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#yoongi scenarios
httpjeon · a year ago
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— club ardor masterlist
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ot7/reader | smut, fluff, angst | fake dating!au, date-for-hire!au
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ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ: a new dating service opened up in seoul. it’s rumored to be exclusive to the rich and elite. the most enticing part of the agency is its seven dreamy bachelors. for a small price, you get to be with the man of your dreams. only for a night.
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ᴄʟᴜʙ ᴀʀᴅᴏʀ: 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ: 𝟐/𝟏𝟒/𝟐𝟎
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— date for hire: the boyfriend type
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GOOD TO ME
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kim namjoon/reader | fluff, smut
synopsis: club ardor holds a special raffle for a free night with a man who will supposedly be the boyfriend of your dreams. you definitely don’t expect to win.
what to expect: the boyfriend service offers an ideal boyfriend companion. namjoon will take you on a date in a believable boyfriend scene.
*perfect for beginners just starting out in the dating-for-hire service!
— read here
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— date for hire: the romantic
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MINE FOR TODAY — coming february 16, 2020
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kim seokjin/reader | fluff, smut, angst
synopsis: deciding to snag a date with a bachelor while an incredible deal is going on, you wind up with every waking moment being plagued with the thought of seokjin. there’s just something about him that you can’t let go.
what to expect: if you’re a hopeless romantic, Seokjin is perfect for you! expect the ideal love and romance it seems only girls in fiction get to experience! it’s hard not to fall in love with this handsome man.
— read here
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— date for hire: the cold type
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HIGH HOPES — coming soon
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min yoongi/reader | fluff, smut, angst
synopsis: you meet a kind man at the cafe you work at and he leaves a card for a “free date” with yoongi from club ardor.
what to expect: sometimes a man just has a way of making you feel small, like you want to open his shell and make him love you. yoongi’s a hard case to crack. his sharp gaze will leave your cheeks burning.
— read here
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— date for hire: the playboy
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ONLY ONCE — coming soon
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jeon jungkook/reader | fluff, smut, angst | college!au
synopsis: jungkook’s scenes are legendary for being hard — some women can’t even get through it. you’re convinced to take the date with him, completely unaware of what you’re getting yourself into.
what to expect: if you like the chase, jungkook is perfect for you. in a perfectly cultivated scene, you’ll feel the competition of trying to win the heart of a seemingly unattainable man.
* recommended for a girl with thick skin.
— read here
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— date for hire: the soft type
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SOFT LAUGHTER — coming soon
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jung hoseok/reader | fluff, smut | neighbor!au
synopsis: after an ugly breakup with your (ex) boyfriend, who leaves you insecure and hurt, you find a free voucher for a night with “the soft type” from club ardor.
what to expect: hoseok has a way of bringing brightness and happiness to those around him. if you find yourself in need of a man who will make you feel like the center of the universe, call on him!
— read here
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— date for hire: the bad boy
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SEOUL RUSH — coming soon
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park jimin/reader | smut, angst | street racer!au
synopsis: wanting to spice up your suffocating lifestyle, you decide to try a night with jimin of club ardor — a man notorious for his adrenaline-run life.
what to expect: if you have a need for excitement, jimin will certainly give you a rush. scenes with him are exhilarating and wild. he’ll have your heart racing and leave your body wanting more.
— read here
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— date for hire: the alpha male
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YOU MAKE ME WANNA — coming soon
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kim taehyung/reader | fluff, smut | rich!au
synopsis: you meet the most exquisite man you’d ever seen in your life. he leaves you breathless and wanting more. when you gather the courage to ask for his number, he gives you a strange card with instructions instead.
what to expect: scenes with taehyung are intense. his controlling hands and deep voice leave you bending to his will. don’t let your eyes wander, he’s more than willing to show everyone you’re his.
* best suited for experienced clients
— read here
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©  httpjeon 2019. do not repost, modify, or translate.
10K notes · View notes
gamerguk · 2 years ago
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too hot to sleep. (m)
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# pairing. fiancé!yoongi x reader
# genre. established relationship au, humor, fluff, smut.
# word count. 2.4k
# warning(s). fluff, reader doesn’t like cats yoongi’s cat, smut [marriage kink(?), unprotected kitchen sex, small hint of yoongi having a possession kink]. \\ will be edited at a later time so my apologizes for any mistakes
# a/n. this was originally supposed to be a drabble but i liked the prompt a lot...so this is the cute fluffy version but i’m also MAYBE gonna write a uh...rougher version. i tried to write an impreg kink since that shit is mad hot but it wasn’t working out for me :(
↳ summary. “ Umm can’t wait to get rawed in our kitchen when I’m living with the love of my life ” *soft ver.*
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“You never listen to me,” you whisper to your fiancé’s sleeping figure, “I ask you to pick up the air conditioner on your way home from work,” you shove his shoulder in an attempt to wake him up, “but instead, you buy a new bed for your demon cat.”
Yoongi stirs in his sleep, turning himself to face the bedroom window. You can’t help but get annoyed at the fact even when he’s sleeping, your fiancé barely istens to you. Every ounce of annoyance fades away the moment you hear the soft sound of Yoongi smacking his lips together, a habit he developed whenever he was in the midst of a deep sleep. Even unconscious, he was still the cutest thing you had ever seen.
But, nevertheless, it was too hot for you to sleep. Your growling stomach also proves you’re otherwise too hungry to sleep as well.
Slowly and quietly, you retreat to the apartment’s tiny kitchen, striding past the various wedding decor that consumed your home in hopes Yoongi bought enough food for you to prepare a late-night snack. 
He didn’t, of course, so you’re left to scrape up anything you’re able to find within the fridge and kitchen cabinets. Your struggle meal consists of bread, butter, and what you can only hope isn’t a few expired slice of American cheese. The only reasonable meal you’re able to make with these few ingredients is a grilled cheese sandwich, not that you’re complaining.
The only thing you do complain about is Yoongi’s cat, Pearl, hopping on the counter and knocking the loaf of bread to the marble floor. Watching the bread fall to the floor startles you, speaking that you hadn’t even known Pearl had woken up and followed you out of the bedroom.
You wave your hand at Pearl, as if you were swatting away a nuisance fly, “Get off of my counter, lazy.”
Pearl ignores you, getting more comfortable on the counter before closing her eyes. As silly as it may sound, you sometimes you feel as though you’re at a constant war with the feline; like she was competing for the role of being the number one woman in Yoongi’s life. You really can’t blame her much. Though, her attendance at your wedding (per Yoongi’s request) shall tell her who the true winner is.
“Fine. If you’re not gonna move then I’m gonna...” you’re careful to grab Pearl’s torso, not wanting to startle her enough to accidentally break something. You aren’t surprised when she makes no effort in making herself lighter to carry and instead drifts off to sleep. “...then I’m gonna let you just stay here.”
Everyone in this apartment loved to ignore you.
Still, there are other things more important than arguing with a sleeping cat at two in the morning.
Drawing your attention back to the task at hand, you put the stove on low heat before grabbing a pan from the cupboard and setting it on one of the burners. Grabbing a knife from the wooden block, you slice off a piece of butter and stir it in the pan, watching it dissolve and make the pan slippery.
Pearl meows as a way to tell you you’re being too loud and she’s trying to sleep, you blow a raspberry and tell her to get a job.
The literal cat-fighting has your bedroom door opening, Yoongi had finally woken up. 
You’re facing the stove with your back facing him, so he takes the opportunity to rest his chin on your shoulder, raking his hands up your shirt and giving your breasts a small squeeze. “Guess who.”
You take the slices of white bread and carefully lay them side by side on the sizzling frying pan, “The ghost that haunts this apartment.”
With closed eyes, Yoongi chuckles, his laugh causing your shoulders to vibrate. “I sure hope he or she doesn’t like you that much. By the way, were you just telling Pearl to get a job?”
You aren’t even the slightest bit embarrassed that he heard your dispute with the animal, he was used to it by now. “If Pearl thinks she can live here rent-free and tell me to shut up while being job-less, she has another thing coming.”
“Ah, go easy on her,” Yoongi brings one had down to your waist, the other reaches over to scratch Pearl’s chin, “she’s my good girl — you both are.” He sighs through his nose, moving hair out of the way to plant a kiss on your neck.
“You both are,” you mock in a voice that sounds nothing like his own, “the worst days of her life were when you met me and when you proposed; please get her off of the counter.”
“You heard her,” Yoongi gently pats Pearl’s bottom, coaxing her to hop off, “up, up, up.” She does as told, of course; you roll your eyes.
“Why’re you up?”
“I can’t sleep, it feels like hell in this apartment,” you answer, using a metal spatula to flip both slices of bread on the pan.
“Oh, I’ll pick up the a.c. tomorrow, I promise.”
“Uh-huh, sure.”
It falls silent, but not awkward. You assume Yoongi is still somewhat tired; the boner pressing into your ass tells you otherwise. It’s early, both of you are still weak after having such a long day. You don’t want any teasing to lead to something that can’t be finished. “Yoongi, don’t—”
“I’m not doing anything,” he interrupts in a mumble, “just wanna talk. What’re you making?”
“Grilled cheese,” you try your best to focus on the food in front of you. Yoongi presses against your backside harder than before. You convince yourself it’s unintentional, but Yoongi knows exactly what he was doing.
“Why do you cook the bread longer?”
“Because I like the edges burnt.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“Good thing this isn’t for you then, yeah?” You turn your head slightly, enough to press a kiss on his forehead.
Yoongi grunts like an ungrateful child who doesn’t get their way, burying his face in the crook of your neck and using his teeth to nip at a sensitive area. You unwillingly toss your head to the side, giving him more access to your bare skin before coming to your senses and re-focusing on your food. “Make me one?” he questions.
“Maybe if you picked up the air conditioner like I asked you to...” 
Yoongi hums, a hint of laughter laced with his tone. “Maybe there’s something else I can offer you in return.” The sudden husk in his voice as you raising a brow, intrigued at what he was planning on offering. 
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hm,” he hums, moving his hands to your front, lifting your shirt up slightly as his index finger settles between the waistband of your panties and the area right below your belly button. “Yoongi, I’m trying to cook.”
“Okay...and...?” his finger continues its path downwards, you find yourself turning the stove down to an even lower heat than before. “What, I’m not allowed to touch you while you cook?”
He slips is finger in between your folds, moving around in teasingly slow circles. His boner is still pressed right up against your ass, seemingly get harder as seconds pass. “Not down there, Yoongi.”
“Why shouldn’t I? This,” he suddenly slides his index finger into your entrance, giving you no warning or seconds to prepare. The action had caused the metal spatula you once held drop to the floor, your fingers now gripping onto the marble counter, Yoongi chuckles at how quickly he managed to get a reaction out of you. 
“...is mine anyway, you said so yourself” he continues. Yoongi’s breath was hot against your neck, his deep and lustful voice and the things they were saying only making you crave him more than you already did.
Yoongi’s words slip into the back of your mind once you’re starting to feel the pleasure caused by his finger alone. He notices how silent you are, barely letting out a moan as he slips in a second finger, making no effort to slow down the increasing pace he was thrusting them at. “Why’re you quiet now? Cat got your tongue?”
“Don’t mention that fucking cat.”
“Sorry,” he really isn’t, though. He loved to work you up like this, especially considering how easy it was. It was selfish in his case, seeing you even the slightest but frustrated was such a big turn on for him. In all honestly, he could name all the times he started pointless arguments just to end it with angry, passionate sex.
Yoongi rubs the pad of his thumb against your clit, all while his two fingers are still pumping. You’re so slick and wet around him, making it easier for him to quicken his pace; your eyes shut, mouth falling slightly open and a lustful gasp leaving you when he does. He curls his fingers, in that way where they hit your g-spot perfectly. You gasp at the feeling, and whine when Yoongi ruts his cock against your ass.
“Oh, fuck,” you mewl.
“God, I can’t get enough of you. I swear, we’re gonna fuck everyday once we get married.”
The moan you let out causes Yoongi to grin, moving his left hand up and under your shirt to grab one of your breast; squeezing a lot harder than before, this time rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. “Mm-hm,” he hums, “gonna put a ring on that finger, then put my fingers inside of you.”
You really could come right now, then Yoongi would put his cock in you and you’d come again; but, you don’t want to come twice in a row. It’d only make you tried and weak, and, truth be told, you’re still hungry.
“Yoongi.”
“Hm?”
“Fuck me.”
“You have such a bad mouth,” he teases, “just talk nice and I’ll give you whatever you want, _____.”
You sigh, “Please, fuck me. Want you to fill me up,” you sound so desperate, neither you or Yoongi seem to mind. He responds to your words, pulling his fingers out of you immediately, you nearly groan at the feeling of sudden emptiness.
Yoongi raises his hand to your sight of view, separating his fingers to make a V shape, completely in awe of how soaked you’ve made his fingers. “Open,” he says, and you do as told. He inserts them quickly, thumb underneath your jaw as if he was holding your head in place. Your tongue laps around his middle and index until you’ve successfully rid them of your juices. 
Yoongi releases his fingers from your mouth, using his own to tug down his pajama pants and boxers enough to free his cock. The two of already know he won’t last long, but he’s way too hard to not even give it a chance.
He pushes your cotton underwear down a bit, grinning when you bend over slightly to give him a better view of your ass. He takes his cock in his hand, pumping himself a few times, watching pre-cum ooze from his practicality swollen tip. “Ready?” he asks, teasingly rubbing his head against your folds. It takes everything in you power to not back yourself onto him.
“Y—oh, fuck,” you moan. Barely giving you time to answer, Yoongi can’t help his impatient tendencies and was already easing his tip into your pussy. He swears at the feeling of you already starting to clench around him. It takes a few moments until he’s fully inside of you, not daring to move because of how wrapped around him. Truly, he could stay in the position forever.
But, he wasn’t in the mood to do cock warming. And he lets you know that with a sudden thrust that has you bent over the counter. You can’t say it doesn’t feel good, but it was surely unexpected considering how tired you assumed Yoongi would be.
A few more slow thrusts later and Yoongi’s finally moving at his desired pace, his large hands firmly gripping your waist. He presses his forehead against your shoulder, already feeling his orgasm approaching — he just knows he won’t be able to hold on longer.
“Baby, I’m—”
“Shit, Yoongi, I’m gonna come,” you interrupt. He’s glad you’re on the same page.
“Hold on just a little bit longer,” he says. Though it’s a demand, it comes out as a question you don’t mind saying yes to.
He’s groaning into your neck now, pressing harsh kisses against it and definitely leaving marks. When he closes his eyes shut, he feels completely wrapped up with pleasure and feels bad for neglecting your clit. He decides he’ll make it up to you later by going down on you. Right now, he feels way to good and won’t be able to focus on anything else.
His high is approaching and he knows yours is too just by the way your moans have increased in volume. “Oh fuckfuckfuck...fuck,” seems to be the warning that he’s going to come, and he does, filling you up completely. Your own orgasm happens seconds later and has you seeing stars.
The two of you are stood panting in silence for a minute, Yoongi still buried deep inside of you. He places a sloppy, open-mouth kiss alongside your neck, giving you various praises of how good you are to him.
“I love you,” he says, readjusting your panties before fixing himself properly. 
“And I love you,” you turn around to kiss him, to which he groans into and pulls you in closer. “Now go pee,” he pulls away, giving your ass a small tap, “I’ll watch the food.”
Yoongi does as promised as you walk towards your bathroom. “You got a text!” you yell on the way there.
Confused as to who would be texting him at such an hour, Yoongi strides into the bedroom and snatches his phone from the nightstand.
hobi [ 2:44 am ]: u know the walls in this building are thin, why would u subject me to your porn re-enactments 
“It’s just Hobi,” Yoongi informs you, smiling away at the text as he replies.
yoongi [ 2:44 am ]: oops
yoongi [ 2:44 am ]: lol
yoongi [ 2:45 am ]: we’ll try to be more quiet next time
“Is he RSVP-ing for the wedding?”
“I’ll ask.”
yoongi [ 2:46 am ]: are u coming to the wedding btw?
hobi [ 2:50 am ]: pull another stunt like this and i won’t even show up to ur funeral
hobi [ 2:51 am ]: on a completely unrelated note, put me down for the chicken
hobi [ 2:51 am ]: also, what kind of toasters do u guys like?
8K notes · View notes
cinnaminsvga · a year ago
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A Boy Like You | Yoongi
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→ summary: for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you.
{or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}
→ genre: coworker!au, f2l, fluff → warnings: an overabundance of shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to squish his cheeks; kinda ooc but it is what it is → words: 11.5K → a/n: whaddup kids it’s ya girl... back from the dead after months of not writing shit, and what’s this owo... it’s a fluff fic?? miracles do happen... anyway i wrote this bc i just thot “man, wouldn’t it be super epic if i wrote a super self-indulgent fic where yoongi fulfills every single one of my deepest desires?” well... here is THIS!! pls feel free to scream into a pillow bc i certainly did!! enjoy!!
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There is a boy you know who likes to show his kindness quietly. It would go something like this:
The air is thick with static; your hair stands up on end: a warning. The scent of raindrops hitting hot pavement graces your nostrils as a waterfall drops from the sky. You see the sea of heads begin to disappear under a canopy of multi-colored umbrellas. You, the lone ranger, rush back into the building from whence you came, dragging puddles and annoyance with you.
You should have anticipated it, should have thought to check the weather app before scrolling through dull social media posts when you left your house that morning. Instead, your fingers are left cold and umbrella-less.
You tilt your head upwards, watching as gallon upon gallon fell from the sky in an endless cycle. The watch on your wrist reads 5 PM, but the sky says it is 9 PM. The dark, swirling mass of clouds above you will continue on its thunderous parade, pausing for no one, especially not for you.
Your work bag is practically weightless, devoid of anything that might protect you from the onslaught of rain. The only thing inside is a small wallet that holds nothing more than dust and a loose promise of a paycheck. There is no way you can call a taxi like this, and the nearest bus stop is at least two blocks away. You are starting to think that your childhood dreams of becoming a mermaid hadn’t been so ridiculous after all.
Then comes the hand of God. It touches your shoulder gently, hesitantly. You turn around to face a stranger, a boy with shaggy black hair and pale moonlight skin. It is not God, but he comes close.
In his other hand is your salvation wrapped in Kumamon print nylon. It is proffered to you with a silent nod, his gaze fixed somewhere behind you as he waits for you to take it. The tips of his ears begin to redden the longer it takes for you to respond. Eventually, your brain connects with your muscles as you robotically pluck the umbrella from his grasp, a stuttered “thanks” leaving your lips.
He nods stiffly once more, removing his palm from your shoulder as though he had been burned. He shuffles for a moment, mouth opening and closing as he struggles to find the words to say. You wait, patience never waning for the strange boy that you have come to know as your salvation.
He doesn’t find the words after all. You aren’t too offended by his silence, but he appears to be mortified. And so, he leaves just as quickly as he had appeared, like a whirlwind dressed in an oversized blazer flapping behind him like wings. He runs through the rain without another thought, an arm raised above his head in a futile attempt to avoid getting wet.
You try calling out to him, wanting to thank him once more and maybe to ask how you can return his umbrella, but he is long gone. A speck of black dashing through the gray.
You clutch the umbrella closer to you, a feeling of something new growing inside of you. It is too small to call anything, but it is warm.
x x x x x
Umbrella boy has a name, and he happens to work on the same floor as you. You know this because he is standing right in front of you in all his bespectacled glory.
He ducks out of view the moment your eyes meet his. There is a stack of folders in his arms, and he bows his head until his nose touches manila. It’s too late––he knows you caught him staring. He scurries behind walls of filing cabinets and desk cubicles, desperate to get back to his desk where he hopes you’ll never find him.
The office floor is large, but it is not large enough to hide in. It takes only a few minutes until you find him hunched over his desk, every inch of space taken by enough towers of paper to cover a forest. It is no wonder that you never encountered your mysterious umbrella boy; he does a wonderful job of blending in.
Your eyes trail his form, not out of any perverse intent, but just out of curiosity. You never would have guessed from his unassuming and meek nature, but the boy is devastatingly beautiful. The devil is in the details: you admire the soft slope of his nose to the adorable pout of his lips. His eyelids are charmingly mismatched and his cheeks are begging to be pinched. It takes a year’s worth of self-restraint to keep your hands at your sides, if only so you don’t scare him away before you can even introduce yourself.
(You can already imagine your HR department contacting you about nonconsensual manhandling… You admit that you tend to get overzealous with your affection, especially when confronted with cute things. This boy would definitely need to watch out for you if he knows what’s best for him.)
((Also note to self: Stop having these psychopathic conversations with yourself. Being stuck inside the cage which is your brain is torture enough, so let’s not encourage it to get worse.))
There is a lanyard laced around his neck, the gaudy orange color of your company’s logo emblazoned across the thin material. And just out of your line of sight, you catch a glimpse of his ID. His name is––
“Y-Y/N?” He stutters out–no–he squeaks. Ah, so he’s noticed you. The folder in his hand slips out of his grasp, an avalanche of white tumbling all over his lap. He curses loudly, frantically sweeping away the mess under his desk, as if he could somehow magically make them disappear if he just kicked them hard enough. Unfortunately, the papers stay stubbornly tangible, and he is left with a halo of accounting reports around his workspace as a result.
“Are you… umm…” You hesitate with your words, fearing that any sudden movement on your part might cause umbrella boy to combust on the spot. “Do you need help… picking those up?”
“I–Well, no–Yes, but–” His sentences are stilted, his brain struggling to catch up with his tongue. He clamps his mouth shut, then shakes his head like he’s trying to reboot himself. Finally, after a few more deep breaths, he goes, “No. I’m fine. Thank you for offering.” He says that, but he appears awfully content with staring holes into the keyboard of his laptop when he is speaking to you though.
“Still… I’m terribly sorry for startling you,” you say, lips tugging downwards into a frown. You should have guessed he was skittish from how he had acted yesterday, but it’s quite a surprise to see one man so… disastrous, for lack of a better term. It’s awfully cute. “I just wanted to properly introduce myself and thank you for lending me your umbrella yesterday, but it seems like you already knew who I was.”
His face does a weird thing then and there. It almost appears like he was caught in a time loop, like someone was manually reversing and replaying his facial expressions like a video. It takes a few minutes for his little stroke to settle down, but even then, his cheeks remain a rosy pink. “I–I just… remembered your name during the company retreat the other month. I’m not weird or anything, I swear!”
“Well luckily, I was never going to accuse you of being weird anyway!” You laugh, trying to ease the perpetual look of anxiety on his face. However, it only seems to worsen his nerves with how quickly his skin starts to redden. “In fact, I should be apologizing for not remembering your name, Mister..?”
“Min Yoongi,” he replies, pausing for a second too long. He must have realized his delay because he coughs awkwardly into his forearm, averting his gaze away from you in a futile attempt to become nothing more than an abstract thought.
He must be equipped with some sort of superpower, because you’re starting to feel his secondhand embarrassment flood through you like a tsunami. Are you that difficult to converse with? Does he want to be left alone so badly that he’s trying to subtlely tell you to fuck off?
You’re about to start apologizing and scurry off back to your desk in barely concealed mortification when Yoongi clears his throat, his gaze fixed somewhere to your right. Whatever caught his attention must have been revolutionary with how large his eyes are, although last you remember is that the wall behind you is the same dull jailcell gray that you have come to know and hate.
“I just… I’m sorry if I’m acting odd right now. I just wasn’t expecting you to come to my cubicle and I would’ve… I don’t know, tidied up? If I knew you were coming,” he mutters, propping his glasses back up when they start sliding down his nose. They make their slow descent back down immediately after, forever on an endless cycle of up and down his face.
“You don’t have to clean up just for me! I’m not your manager or anything,” you say, surveying the absolute disaster zone that is his workspace. For his benefit, you sure hope that he has a map of his desk and filing cabinets, as it would have been a miracle otherwise if he memorized where anything was located in his personal office sty. “Though, it would be nice if you could see the bottom of your desk every once in a while.”
To your immense surprise, Yoongi lets out a resounding laugh at your quip. Though Yoongi isn’t a mute by any means, it isn’t like he spoke with much volume either. You hadn’t even thought your joke was funny enough to deserve a strained Caucasian™️ smile, so you appreciate that he had considered that you were even slightly funny. You love the pleasant tinkling of his laughter, so genuinely joyous that you can’t help but want to make a fool of yourself just so you can hear it again and again.
When Yoongi stops, the familiar reddish hue that has made a home on his cheeks resurfaces, though it’s less from embarrassment now. His shoulders are more relaxed, and he doesn’t look like he wants to crawl out of his skin as much. He still has eyes averted away from you, however. “Sorry. I don’t know why I laughed too hard at that. I’m normally not this weird… I think it’s just the nerves.”
You cock your head to the side. “Nerves? From what?”
Yoongi freezes, mouth gaping open slightly. “I, umm…” He coughs into his white button-up sleeve, pupils shaking as he formulates a response. “Just from… work. Yeah, I just have a lot of paperwork to do this week and I’ve been, er, having difficulty relaxing.”
Yoongi visibly breathes a sigh of relief when you accept his flimsy excuse, not really lingering on the validity of his statement. “Oh, sure! Don’t overwork yourself too much, okay?” you say, smiling sweetly back at him. He stares, wide-eyed, not really sure how to go on with his life after he’d been blasted by the full force of your grin.
God, you hope you remembered to use a toothpick during lunch. Was there spinach in your teeth? Oh fuck.
“Gah,” he intones, his brain not fully cooperating with his mouth just yet. If you were any more socially inept, you’d probably be doing the same. Eventually, he clears his throat and tries again. “Uh. Yes. I’ll try to do better next time.”
Feeling like you’ve overstayed your visit, you decide that it might be best for you to leave him be before either of you do or say anything more awkward and stupid. Before you turn to leave however, you decide to extend your hand forward, hoping to erase all the previous awkwardness between the both of you and hopefully start afresh. Even though you’ve only just met, you can’t help but feel drawn to him, wanting to see him again and somehow gain his friendship. “Hey, no sweat. It was really nice meeting you, Yoongi-ssi.”
“Just Yoongi is fine,” he says, almost like an afterthought. He’s so busy staring at your proffered hand that you are afraid that you might have offended him unknowingly or something. Does he think you don’t wash your hands? Given by the fact that your office’s manager refuses to restock the soap dispensers at the washrooms, that isn’t that much of a stretch. Or maybe he was weirded out by your random handshake? Have handshakes become antiquated these days? Are the kids no longer doing it? Are you supposed to do those awful brohugs like the fresh-out-of-college interns do in the breakroom? Oh God, does Yoongi think you’re old?!
While you were in the midst of your mental breakdown, you soon begin to realize why Yoongi had contemplated returning your handshake for so long. Instead of taking your hand immediately, Yoongi rubs his own two palms together first, much like how one would when warming their hands in front of a fire. He takes care to blow on them slightly before grasping your hand firmly in his, finally bestowing you with your much awaited handshake.
“Umm..?” You stare at your intertwined hands, a little confused about the previous series of events that just happened five seconds ago. Yoongi, in all his adorable and flustered glory, releases your hand much too quickly like he’s been shocked, most likely realizing (belatedly) that what he had done might not be as clear to an observer as it is to himself.
“Oh, I – I’m so sorry about that, again.” Yoongi stutters, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s just – my hands are really cold so I was trying to warm them up before I held your hands. I’m – I only just realized how odd that must have looked. Sorry.”
A rush of endearment and warmth surges through you as you behold this high strung boy, your heart flooded with a mix of emotions that make you feel gooey and blissful in one perfect package. No, this boy is the perfect package, all soft edges and blushy cheeks. It’s going to take a mountain and a room of vengeful deities to stop you from walking past his desk to catch a glimpse of him at this rate.
Oh God, you’re whipped already and it’s only been a few minutes since you said hello. He warmed his hand for you for heaven’s sake! Surely your enthusiasm can be excused in this one instance.
“That’s, uhh…” Now it seems that it is your turn to be at a loss of words, your throat clogged with a clump of newly discovered feelings that you don’t have enough time to sort through at the moment. The hamster running circles inside your brain has long since ground to a halt, and if Yoongi is going to keep staring at you with those charming cat eyes for any longer, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to convince the little vermin inside your skull to puppet your body again. “That’s… really sweet. Thank you.”
Thank you? Really, Y/N?
“It’s, uh, no problem. Really.” And with that, Yoongi presents to you his most deadly smile to date: blinding whites coupled his prominent pink gums, with his cheeks stretched like proofed dough that make his dark eyes disappear. Is there a pencil wedged inside your chest cavity, or were you just spontaneously having a heart attack? It’s hard to say; all you know is that your organs have turned to slush, and you make a mental note to send the imminent hospital bill to a certain Min Yoongi.
Cause of hemorrhage: being too fucking cute.
With your daily dose of embarrassment fulfilled, you turn to leave with short stilted steps, as if you have to force yourself away from him like those stubborn souvenir shop magnets that never come off the fridge. “I guess I’ll see you around?” you say more like a question, unsure if he’ll even want to ever see you after that disaster of an interaction. Kim Namjoon from Accounting would be entirely too delighted if he ever found out that he wasn’t the most awkward human being in the office.
“Sure? I’ll just be here. As always,” Yoongi replies kindly, same gummy grin on his face, albeit a little more hesitant. “It was nice speaking to you, Y/N.”
When he returns his attention to his workspace, it serves as a signal to you that you really should be going. Before you leave, you take note of the subtle red tint of his ears that reaches the back of his neck, the gentle tremor of his hands as he reorganizes the files that he had previously dropped. It makes you feel odd for relishing in the fact that you hadn’t been the only one feeling the tension between the two of you, though that doesn’t help lessen the confusion that soon follows anyway.
Why are you so drawn to him? You have never felt so strongly for someone this quickly, and frankly it sort of frightened you. You’re too afraid to confront that blossoming curiosity inside of you. No, it’s much too soon for that. For now, however…
“Oh shit. I totally forgot to give him back his umbrella,” you curse yourself once you return to your desk. The smiling face of Kumamon looks at you knowingly, as if this had been planned all along.
Well. Now you have an excuse to see him again tomorrow, at least.
x x x x x
There is a boy you know who likes to show his tenderness quietly. It would go something like this:
Company dinners shouldn’t feel like as much as a punishment as it does, but that’s just how social gatherings with semi-professional coworkers are like. No one here really wants to be there, but the carefully worded e-mail sent to the entire company clearly suggests that this was more of a “go to the party or risk getting fired” type of deal than anything remotely enjoyable. As much as free food and booze are often harbingers of a good time, it hardly makes any difference when your inebriated boss spends the entire time chatting you up in front of the presence of a dozen or so indifferent associates.
“Oh, Y/N! Good job securing that deal with Mister Park the other day. It’s all thanks to my valuable tutelage, is it not?” your manager guffaws, slapping your back with misplaced camaraderie. He leaves his warm, sweaty palm there, feeling it slide an inch lower than you were comfortable with anyone being. The smell of cheap wine on his breath is making you feel nauseous, and the tacky black and white tiled flooring isn’t doing anything to lessen the incoming migraine.
“Right,” you say with a tight-lipped smile, unable to say anything else lest you lose your job over something silly like establishing boundaries. It’s no wonder that the number of female employees on your floor has significantly dropped over the years, especially with rumors attaching themselves like maggots all over your stupid manager’s name. You wouldn’t be surprised if his stomach exploded ala Alien (1979) style with how much bullshit resides in his body and soul.
You’ve long since given up on anyone saving you, not when everyone was either too busy taking advantage of the free food or too scared to confront your shitty boss. You resign to your fate, ready to scrub yourself clean with a brick once you get home in a futile attempt to rid yourself of the feeling of his hands on you.
That is, until someone clears their throat from behind you.
Salvation comes to you wrapped in a crisp white button-up, thick-rimmed glasses, and cat-like eyes. You almost want to start breaking into Gregorian chant just then to fully express your gratitude to the deities of above for sending an angel in your time of tribulation.
“Excuse me,” the (welcome) intruder says, voice quiet but clear even amidst the cacophonous music and chatter. Min Yoongi steps forward until he is to your right, and you don’t miss the way his shoulder “accidentally” bumps your manager hard enough for him to drop his hand from your back. When Yoongi smiles at your manager, it is all teeth and no mirth, his eyes carefully blank.
Thankfully, your manager isn’t quite as fortunate in his brains department as he is in his stomach. “Oh, Yoongi! It is so nice to finally see you attend one of our social functions. You are enjoying yourself, I hope?” your manager asks, guffawing loudly despite no joke being said. You never did quite understand how some men think they are the most hilarious thing to ever exist since clowns, though you suppose your manager was only missing the red nose to complete the look.
“Thrilled, Mister Lee. Absolutely thrilled,” Yoongi says in a dead monotone voice. You can’t help but giggle at his sarcasm, and Yoongi points a wicked grin back at you before returning to his neutral and passive “work” face.
The sarcasm flies over your managers head like you expected, though you can hardly blame the alcohol for his lack of cognizance. You wouldn’t be half surprised if you knocked lightly on his head, only to hear a resounding echo following thereafter.
“I have never seen you at any of our parties before, Yoongi. What’s with the sudden change of heart?” your manager asks.
“Sir, I’ve attended every single social gathering since I was hired,” Yoongi says plainly, his composure never faltering. He must have better control than you, because you’re sure you would’ve barely held yourself back from smacking your manager had it been you. Though in fairness, you aren’t sure if you’ve ever noticed Yoongi at any of the other parties before this one either.
“Oh really? Well then, you mustn’t have said hello before then!” your manager laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder. “Always so enigmatic, our dear Yoongi! Well, keep up the good work.” When your manager turns his attention to speak to another one of your poor coworkers, Yoongi visibly gags from behind your manager’s back, grimacing as he pats away all traces of that foul man’s hand germs away from his dress shirt.
“Gross. Now my sleeve is damp,” he mutters, just audible enough so that only you could hear. You laugh out loud at that, nodding in understanding.
“Same here. There’s probably a gross sweaty handprint on my back now,” you say, wincing when you do feel a noticeable damp spot near the small of your back. “Ugh, what a pig.”
“Tell me about it,” Yoongi shakes his head, making a move to get away from your awful manager. He gestures for you to follow him, and you are more than happy to oblige.
“Thanks for saving me, by the way,” you add, keeping in step with him. He leads you out of the disorienting ballroom, though he doesn’t head towards the exit like you had expected. He appears to know the building much more than you do, given by how assuredly he walks. Either that, or he could be leading you to a deadend, but confidently.
“No problem. You honestly looked like you were about to punt him across the room, though I doubt anyone would be opposed to that magnificent spectacle,” Yoongi jokes, same mischievous grin from before decorating his face. He is so different from the taciturn man you had met two weeks ago, back when he had half-hidden behind his desk like an animal being cornered. Though, that might not be the best analogy to think of, as it only painted you as some sort of predator who came after meek and soft-looking men. Which you aren’t. Hopefully.
“Oh, I would’ve done more than just that, so really he should be thanking you for saving him,” you snort, and Yoongi chuckles lightly in response. Like before, his laughter is just as pleasant as you remember. Your greedy heart yearns to elicit the same sound from him once more, for as many times as you can muster before the night ends.
You had been so immersed in trying to keep up with his quick strides that you don’t notice where exactly he has taken you. The two of you haven’t gone too far away from the ballroom before he stops right in front of a metal double door, the neon green exit sign about it glowing conspicuously in the otherwise dimly lit corridor. He pushes it open, allowing the cool evening air to blow across you and your hand-me-down dress.
“Are we… at the balcony?” you ask, though the view that greets you is answer enough. How Yoongi could have known where the balcony is, you can’t say for certain. But any sort of question dies on your lips when you see how beautiful the skyline is: the stars and city lights twinkling indiscriminately, the sound of nightlife and traffic sounding loud despite the streets being so far away, the smell of ozone signalling an oncoming storm.
This, of course, is what you imagine the view to be like. You know, if the ever reliable Seoul smog wasn’t there to obstruct any sort of magical, romantic view that you should have been privy to.
“Oh damn. I forgot the smog forecast today was especially bad,” Yoongi groans from beside you, quickly shuffling through his pant pockets for a face mask. He procurs two black masks, still in their plastic packaging, and hands one of them to you. “Jesus. Sorry about this. Didn’t expect the smog to be so bad… We can just go back inside, if you want?”
Then, you are reminded of your manager, who is basically pollution incarnate with how terrible his breath is. So, you accept Yoongi’s proffered mask and promptly put it on. “Yeah, no thanks,” you say, voice muffled slightly by the fabric. The implication of your acceptance makes Yoongi grin cheekily back at you (or so you think, guessing by how his eyes crinkle cutely above his mask.)
Now properly equipped to not inhale disgusting air matter into your lungs, you step out farther across the balcony, enjoying the way the cool night breeze feels against your alcohol flushed face. (Though, if you were being honest, the heat on your cheeks has less to do with the meager flute of champagne you had earlier and more to do with the company you currently find yourself with.)
“I fucking hate these company dinners,” you whine a little bit too petulantly, complete with the jutted lip of a child who has been forced to wait as her mother engages in an eternity long conversation with an acquaintance. You lean against the railings near the edge of the building, watching idly as Yoongi does the same. “Don’t you think that if they wanted us to get ‘closer’ with one another, they’d first want to address the fact that some of our coworkers happen to be pigs dressed in white collared shirts?”
Yoongi snorts at that, his right hand immediately coming up to his mouth to silence the unflattering sound. Not that it wasn’t completely charming to you, but you do enjoy the slight abashment that blooms across his face shortly thereafter. “Sorry, didn’t mean to laugh like that. But, I do agree with you… I can’t say that anyone in our department is especially fond of that Habsburg motherfucker.”
Maybe it was the little bit of alcohol in your system, or perhaps it was the sudden rush of realizing that Yoongi is strangely attractive when he swears, but the laugh that exits your mouth sounds a touch too crazed for your liking. Either that, or perhaps you’re finally dying from the pollution.
Luckily for the both of you, it seems that Yoongi likes your weird laugh just as much as you like his. He tries to hide a smile before continuing, “Like, come on! I’m sorry for saying that because attacks on physical appearance is always a low blow, but why the fuck does that dude look like he’s been compressed and flattened on Photoshop? He’s got perpetual flat-face syndrome. You could -  you could land a damn plane on his face or some shit.”
The cork inside of your bursts, and you let out the most ungodly guffaw in your life. You don’t even have the time to be embarrassed by how loud your howls are, not when every word he says hits the mark a little bit too close to home. There’s nothing quite as pleasing than sharing mutual dislike for the same person, and it fills you with the utmost glee that Yoongi is no exception to that rule.
“Oh god… You’re right. You are absolutely right. I seriously can’t believe anyone can put up with him. I mean, the damned bastard couldn’t even remember my name until two weeks ago,” you say, shaking your head in disgust. The first few times he had forgotten, you had been gracious enough to laugh away his mistakes as little more than that: mistakes. But when five years pass and peanuts-for-a-brain still hasn’t deemed that remembering your name to be as important as when the “next big Game™” is, then it’s easy to understand the depth of your resentment towards your manager.
“Are you for real?” Yoongi asks, brows raised in shock. “How could anyone ever forget you – I mean, shit, uh,” Yoongi coughs suddenly, red-faced. You tilt your head in confusion, waiting for him to finish. He’s still kind of spluttering when he continues, “What I meant to say is… H-how could anyone forget their employees name after working here for so long?”
You shrug your shoulders. “I have no idea. Honestly, I think he’s trying to purposefully forget everything I tell him. One time, he had asked me what plans I had for Christmas, and I mentioned to him how I was going to be visiting my parents back home, and he has the gall to ask what country I’m from. Like???” Your face contorts as if you had eaten an entire lemon, so wracked with disbelief that Yoongi can see the hypothetical question marks floating above your head. “Bitch, do I look foreign to that bastard? I’ve lived here all my life!”
Yoongi hums, thoughtful. “Your parents live just an hour away from here, right?”
“I… Yeah, they do,” you reply. You eye Yoongi curiously, watching his all-too familiar flush resurfacing on his neck once more. “Wait… How do you know that?”
“You… You were talking about them, once. To Seulgi? Yea, you were, um…” Yoongi coughs unassuredly, rubbing the back of his neck. A nervous tick of his, you suppose. “It was a year ago? Something about visiting them during the weekend… Not that I was eavesdropping on purpose! I would never, er, do that…”
You don’t even register his embarrassment as you are mostly shell shocked that he had even remembered that little tidbit from over a year ago. Hell, you didn’t even remember going to your parent’s house until he mentioned it. “No it’s fine, I get it. I’m just surprised that you even bothered to remember that.”
Now it’s his turn to look at you strangely. “Of course I remember. Why wouldn’t I?”
You stare at him in disbelief. Fluttering of wings begin to erupt in your stomach, but you hardly have the peace of mind to fully grasp why you were even feeling so flustered in the first place. It was just that he had said it so… matter-of-fact, like there was no possible way he could’ve forgotten even if he tried. It was kind of disconcerting, but flattering all the same. But more importantly--
“Wait, you’ve been working at the company since last year? How have I never seen you before this month?!”
“Oh,” Yoongi coughs out a laugh, scratching the end of his nose. He turns his gaze away, looking anywhere but you. “I was just, umm… Really quiet? I don’t really talk to anyone unless I need to. I’m more of a listener.”
“Oh my God, now I feel even more terrible for not knowing your name! I must look like an egotistic bitch to you,” you despair lowly, cupping your face into your hands in shame. You feel another pair of cold hands clasp your wrists, and you watch in shock as he pulls your palms away with a determined expression.
“What? Of course not. You are definitely not an egotistic bitch, Y/N. In fact, you’re the complete opposite,” Yoongi whispers, so quiet that you might have imagined it. He grasps your hands tightly, like he’s desperate for you to believe him.
You stammer in embarrassment, staring wide-eyed at Yoongi as you try to regrasp your comprehension skills. It’s especially hard to concentrate with how close Yoongi is to you, the latter unaware of his own proximity. He had stepped closer towards you to hold your hand, and normally you hated it when people touched you without permission, but somehow… This was alright.
(Unbeknownst to you, this will not be the first time that Yoongi becomes your secret little exception. It’s only the first of many.)
“I-I don’t really know what to say?” Your gaze is locked on his firm grip on your hands, the only thing flitting through your mind: damn, this dude’s hands really are fucking freezing!
It takes another few seconds for Yoongi to calm down, and you know when it happens because the realization of what he had said makes itself apparent on his expression. He turns beet red in a second, stepping away from you with his arms flying off of you like those inflatable tube men outside car dealerships.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, taking two steps away from you. You almost take two steps forward to keep the distance closer, but you have a feeling that he would keep walking away from you until you both inevitably fall off the balcony, so you smartly choose to stay away (even if it pains you to do so). You wait for his breathing to settle, all the while still reeling from his blatant confession just moments ago.
Could you even consider it a confession? Were you being delulu, or is there some sort of connection that you and Yoongi were both feeling?
“Yoongi, it’s fine! Really,” you smile wryly, raising your hands towards him open-faced, much like how you would do when approaching an agitated animal. Like a nervous kitty, you think privately to yourself. “I’m really flattered that you feel so… strongly?”
“I’m… I’m really not like this normally. Honest,” Yoongi says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I… I never… do that. Whatever that was. Umm.”
Because you’re a freak of nature and enjoy exacerbating awkward social interactions, you decide to respond to him like this: “No worries, I’m flattered, honest! But hey, maybe next time you try to give me a compliment, you could look me in the eye?” You know, like an asshole. Who points out people’s social anxieties like that? You bitch!
On cue, Yoongi’s cheeks bloom into cherry blossoms once more. “I––I, I didn’t mean to––uh!” he stammers.
“No, no, I’m sorry for even saying that!” You apologize profusely, bowing so low that he could probably see the top of your spine. “I didn’t mean to tease you like that! I’m sorry! That was seriously out of line!”
What a pair the two of you were… Like two trains crashing into each other at mach speed, continuously and eternally. A constant and ongoing catastrophe!
(The little gremlin living inside your brain is knocking at your empty skull, whispering deviously, “But doesn’t that make the two of you the perfect pair?”)
When he doesn’t respond back immediately, you have to wrack up enough courage to look back at him. You gasp audibly when you do, and you have to forcibly grip the insides of your bicep to keep yourself from squealing in pure anguish.
Because there, right before your very eyes, is a blushing Min Yoongi looking you straight in the eye with his face squished between his hands, as if he’s forcibly keeping his head locked in place. His pupils are noticeably shaking and his brows are furrowed in concentration, but he’s looking at you. Like you asked.
He’s… He’s too…
“Okay, let me try this again.” Yoongi takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what may be the most embarrassing thing he has ever done in his life. “Y… You’re a great person, Y/N. I hope you know that,” he whispers, voice trailing off by the end of his sentence.
He’s dry heaving like he’s just finished a marathon, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You’re worried if he even remembers how to blink with how intensely he’s staring you down, but you can’t bring yourself to ask him when your heart is quite literally beating out of your chest like a cartoon character from the 80’s.
“I…” You’re at a loss of words. If Min Yoongi can capture you like this with just a look, then think of how much more powerful he would be if he just learned how to use it. You’re slipping into real dangerous waters, and you don’t know if you’re just a frog in boiling water or if this is where you were meant to be all along.
“Yoongi, I didn’t mean for you to… force yourself like that, really…”
The moment breaks, finally, when Yoongi begins to cry.
“Shit!” you both exclaim, but for two different reasons. “Are you okay? Oh my god!” you reach out for him, not even thinking when you cup his cheeks in your hands. He gently pushes you away with one hand, while the other goes to scrub at his tears.
“Yes, I’m fine! A piece of dust got caught in my eye and I was too slow to blink it away,” he explains, still wiping at his cheeks. He pulls his mask down to his chin, pouting cutely at you. “Sorry. I’m not used to looking people in the eye yet. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Oh my god. At this point, you’d be surprised if your heart was located anywhere near your body. You were running purely on autopilot, so enamored by the boy in front of you that you could almost faint. He was entirely too unreal, unbelievably so. Perhaps, if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to find your heart again, and you know the first place where you’d look.
“Give it back,” you mumble, and Yoongi tilts his head at you in confusion.
“Sorry? Did you say something?”
“Nothing,” you reply, reaching over him and snapping his mask back on his face. You laugh as he splutters in surprise, floundering about overdramatically as if the elastic on the mask had done any damage to him at all. “Oh, stop it. You’re just being silly now.”
“Hey, I have delicate skin! You never know,” he jokes, but stops when you give him an unimpressed look.
“Sorry,” he laughs again. “And well, since I keep saying sorry today, and you look like you could use a little warming up, do you wanna leave this place and get some coffee? My treat.”
And really, who were you to say no to that?
And really, who were you to say no to Min Yoongi?
x x x x x
There is a boy you know who likes to show his thoughtfulness quietly. It would go something like this:
A steaming hot coffee cup from the nearby cafe manifests itself on your desk one Monday morning. In your sleep-deprived haze, you had originally failed to realize that there was a hand connected to that cup and that it hadn’t actually just materialized from thin air like you had thought. After much blinking and staring, you crane your head up to see Jesus standing in front of you, his glasses still fogged from the outside chill.
“I got you a drink. I hope I remembered your order right,” Yoongi says in lieu of a greeting, a small smile gracing his lips as he watches you lethargically reach over for the cup to lift the lid open. His grin widens when he sees your eyes light up at the sight of little marshmallows bobbing up and down in your hot chocolate, bits of whipped cream already melting away from the heat. When you take a sip, you breathe a content sigh, your eyelids fluttering shut.
“Yoongi, I’m going to kiss your feet right now and you can’t stop me,” you say, upper lip lined with cream and sugar. Yoongi’s hand twitches by his side, but he doesn’t move.
“Even if I have toe fungus?”
“Especially if you have toe fungus,” you say, downing as much hot chocolate down your throat without choking and barfing all over him.
From the rim of your cup, you can see that Yoongi still has his parka on, his signature black mask pulled down his chin indicating that he’s only just arrived at the office. It makes your heart jump a little, knowing that he went straight to you first before anyone else that day.
“I still don’t understand how you hate coffee. Like, I don’t think I’d be able to be conversing with you right now if I didn’t have caffeine running through my veins,” he says, staring at you(r lips) as you chew a marshmallow thoughtfully.
You want to tell him that Yoongi doesn’t talk a lot anyway in the first place, though you have begun to notice that he’s becoming more talkative the more you hang out with him. However, you aren’t quite sure if you’re imagining it, but it seems like Yoongi’s change in personality doesn’t really apply when he’s with anyone else. On the days where you’d pass by his cubicle on the way to the water coolers, he’d still have his usual stoic expression on his face as he goes through his paperwork with the grace of a robot. When he’s with you, however…
“Says the guy who’s started drinking frappes after I suggested them to you. Don’t lie to me, Min Yoongi.” You’re giggling softly, and you can tell Yoongi’s seams are already breaking. Pink gums and straight teeth are seconds away from peaking through. You wink cheekily at him.  “You’re just as sweet as your personality is.”
“Stop, that’s so embarrassing!” he exclaims, hiding behind his hands. He’s already smiling. “I’m not as sweet as you think! I’m a mean guy!”
“Yoongi, you literally just bought me hot chocolate with marshmallows because you remembered what I like. I don’t think there’s a mean bone in your body,” you retort, rolling your eyes at the prominent pout on his face.
“Not true! I stole an extra coupon booklet when I was at the grocery store the other day.”
“Ooooh, I do love a bad boy,” you say, but the two of you are already laughing hysterically. “Seriously, thanks. I really needed this today.”
“Dang, bad morning already?” he winces, having noticed the purple moons under your eyes when he had approached you. He didn’t want to mention it without you bringing it up first, but he had been worried about you since last Friday when you had left the workplace with a slammed door.
“Try bad weekend. Mr. Lee has been pushing my buttons for months now, but I seriously didn’t think he thought it was a challenge. He’s been giving me shitty filing jobs to complete like I’m some overworked intern!”
Yoongi cocks his head, confused. “Aren’t you, like… In the advertising department? Why would he make you file things?”
“Exactly!” You’re all but roaring now, but Yoongi can’t help smirking at the stray dollop of whipped cream that had somehow found its way on your nose. He pulls his sleeve over his wrist, swiping it away with the fabric as nonchalantly as possible (which is to say, he’s as red as a spanked ass when he does it.)
You don’t even notice his actions, still deep in the abyss of your rage. “And also! My shitty phone ran out of storage space the other day so I’ve had to delete all the songs on my library and I can’t find any good playlists on Spotify to help me dissociate on the train!”
“Wow, that’s a mood,” Yoongi says, chuckling. He clears his throat, an idea popping into his head. He turns bashful all of a sudden, gaze diverting upwards as he musters the courage to say, “I-I mean, I think I can help you with that last problem, if you want…”
You stop huffing and puffing long enough to appear intrigued. “Oh? Are you gonna send me a playlist?”
Yoongi splutters. “I mean! If you want it, I do have some songs that I like listening to.”
Yoongi squeaks when you smile at that, radiant and all-encompassing. He wonders how he’s not dead right now.
“Oh god, that would be great actually! Text me the link, would you?” you say, already making grabby hands for his phone. “Here, lemme put my phone number in your phone.”
Yoongi almost drops his phone as he takes it out of his pocket, staring in awe as he watches you type in your number into his phone. He has to keep himself from outright howling when he sees you place a sunflower emoji beside your name. How fitting, he thinks to himself.
When you return the phone back to him, he immediately texts you the link to his playlist. You have to keep yourself from screaming to the heavens when you see the very Yoongi-esque title, “Songs for the Sleepless,” complete with the grainy-noir-film-type playlist art to complete the look. It was just so… personal, so Yoongi, and it’s making you clench organs that you didn’t know were clenchable.
You whistle at the sheer number of songs on the playlist, with the first song being—“Didn’t peg you as a Lana Del Rey fan,” you pipe up, scrolling through his playlist with acute interest. “Kendrick Lamar and Epik High, I understand. But Lana?”
To his credit, the playlist did seem like it had a narrative of sorts, despite the eclectic range of artists and genres. You only recognize maybe ten of the songs from his five hundred song playlist, and you’re very curious to see what type of songs he connects to.
“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he shrugs his shoulders, though a little bit embarrassed. “Lana Del Rey could sing my obituary and I’d jump out of my grave in an instant.”
“Bit morbid but okay,” you laugh, finger ready to close your music player app when you catch sight of a song with an artist you didn’t expect to see. You reach over to tug on his sleeve, your sly smile already causing Yoongi to break out in hives. “Hey… I didn’t know you shared your name with a singer, unless, of course…”
Yoongi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when he yelps in surprise, snatching your phone out of your grip as his eyes bug out of his sockets. His ears redden, words tumbling out of his mouth like a waterfall as he tries to explain himself despite your raucous giggling.
“I––You weren’t supposed to––I forgot about! That was––I was just––Ugh,” he groans despairingly, smacking himself in the forehead with your phone. You’re still giggling madly, enjoying the spectacle before you as Yoongi’s ears are practically shooting out steam.
“You’re so cute.” It slips out of your mouth with such ease that you almost don’t notice saying it at all; you’re still smiling dreamily at Yoongi as he stares at you in shock, mouth still agape from his earlier rambling. You gasp loudly when your brain cells finally catch up, but by then it’s already too late. Now, the two of you were a matching pair, with your fire engine red ears standing at attention.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe I just said that,” you mutter into your hands. You wish the earth would swallow you whole right now.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you just said that,” Yoongi wails beside you, but you don’t notice the small satisfied smile he’s sporting on his reddened face. “Y-You can’t just say things and not expect me to…”
You look up, wondering why he’d suddenly trailed off at the end. “Expect you to what?”
Yoongi, once again, defies the laws of the universe by somehow turning even redder than humanly possible. “N-nothing. Ignore me. Let’s just admit we’re both embarrassing and carry on, can we?”
“Sure,” you agree, nodding enthusiastically. “But, does that mean I can listen to your songs, Mister Min ‘I’m-a-superstar-singer-in-my-spare-time’ Yoongi?”
“I’m not a superstar! I just record songs in my free time, that’s all,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Says the guy who apparently raps as a hobby! Seriously, I can tell I’m gonna love it already.”
His gaze is turned upwards, cheeks puffed up in embarrassment. He looks like he wants to say something else, however, and you wait for him as he tries to gather the courage to say what else is on his mind. “S-say, I was wondering… Since I’m already here and all, do you want to maybe go out wi—”
“Yo! Hyung!”
A deep voice from across the office floor snaps the two of you out of your little bubble in an instant. It doesn’t take a genius to tell who it is, not when there’s only one person in the entire company who would dare wear a sushi-print tie to work at one of the most lucrative companies in the country.
Kim Namjoon hobbles over to your little cubicle space in all his sushi-print tie glory, knocking over a coworker’s potted plant in the process. Between you and Yoongi, you had been more surprised by Namjoon’s sudden exclamation, mostly because you’d never been particularly close with the eccentric man. Yoongi probably can’t say the same since he had briefly mentioned that he and Namjoon go way back, though you’re starting to have some doubts about that due to the dirty glare Yoongi was currently pointing at the sentient noodles-for-legs.
Namjoon waves cheerily at you before cutting to the chase as he envelops Yoongi in a not-too-gentle hug. “Hyung! I’ve been looking for you. You weren’t at your desk this morning so I was wondering where you’d wandered off, but of course I’d find you here at Y/N’s de––”
Yoongi promptly stomps on Namjoon’s feet, causing the younger to yelp out in pain. “Namjoon. I told you I’d talk to you later.” Yoongi smiles sweetly, but you can see the aura of danger radiating off of him in waves. “Emphasis on later.”
Namjoon pouts petulantly, but he doesn’t look all that offended. “I was just gonna remind you to ask Y/N if she wanted to join us for lunch la––OUCH! WILL YOU STOP STEPPING ON MY FEET!”
Yoongi appears unbothered, not even looking back at Namjoon’s shouts of betrayal. All the while, he still has his gaze trained on you, never wavering for one second.
“Please ignore my colleague. He can a bit… Unnecessarily loud,” Yoongi says, accompanied by Namjoon’s splutters of indignation.
“Umm?? I’m right here?? Your actual best friend?? Geez!” Namjoon huffs, looking at the both of you incredulously. You just shrug your shoulders, completely dumbfounded by the last five minutes of human interaction.
“As Namjoon was saying before we were so rudely interrupted… I was going to ask if you wanted to have lunch with me? Namjoon can join too, but only if he behaves,” Yoongi jokes, smirking at Namjoon’s ireful glares.
You giggle quietly at the unlikely pair, amused beyond belief at this new side of Yoongi that you hadn’t been aware of. So this is how he is with his friends… Cocky Yoongi is definitely someone you wouldn’t mind talking to occasionally, you admit.
“Sure, I’d love to. Just let me finish all this filing crap for Mr. Lee, then I’ll head over to your desk at around 12?” If you work at a breakneck pace, then you could probably finish sooner if you didn’t let anything else distract you. “Oh! And I should probably return your umbrella before you leave. I keep forgetting to give it back to you.”
“No worries,” Yoongi says. “You should keep the umbrella. I’ve got a spare anyway.”
Namjoon’s head whips toward Yoongi at that, staring at him skeptically. “Dude. Ain’t that your favorite Kumamon umbrella though? Didn’t you almost murder me that one time I forgot it at the McDonald’s last mo––WILL YOU STOP STEPPING ON MY FEET! I’M GONNA GET FLATFOOT SYNDROME!”
“Not my problem,” Yoongi replies, pinching Namjoon’s nose for good measure. He turns to you, waving goodbye. “See you in a few?”
You stretch your back, psyching yourself up to get back to work. “Right. I’ll text you when I’m done okay? See you at 12-ish!”
The boys make their leave, bickering all the while. You catch wind of a bit of their conversation as they turn the corner, their voices echoing down the hall.
“Hey, I noticed that you were looking Y/N in the eye when you were speaking. Why don’t you ever look me in the eye when we talk!”
Yoongi snorts, flipping him off. “It’s because you’re not as nice to look at. Simple as that.”
In your seat, you smile secretly to yourself, butterflies erupting in your chest. Filled with newly found fervor, you chip away at the pile of work on your desk until it starts to vanish from view.
Before you know it, you’re off to see Yoongi once more.
x x x x x 
There is a boy you know who likes to show his vulnerability quietly. It would go something like this:
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x x x x x 
There is a boy you know who likes to show his love quietly. It would go something like this:
Your day begins with a phone call: a warning. Your boss tells you to come into work as soon as possible, not a note of enthusiasm or friendliness in his tone. He ends the call just as abruptly as it had come, the silence following soon after deafening your ears. Your heart races marathons in your chest, and your brain goes to the worst place it can go.
Your hands are sweating gallons upon gallons as you shrug your coat on, fumbling with your keys as you struggle to place them in your pocket. For a brief moment, you think about calling Yoongi for moral support, but think better of it. You don’t want to bother anyone, especially not him.
You, the lone ranger, walk out of your apartment and into the murky urban outdoors, the first pitter-patters of rain making their descent the moment your foot meets the pavement. You don’t have quite the energy to go back inside to grab your umbrella, not when you’re unsure if you’ll be courageous enough to leave your bedroom once more if you did.
You’d always been a coward, a soft-hearted fool. Content with shouldering the consequences of your actions without another word: a sufferer in silence. For the past few weeks, you thought you might have changed. You’d been smiling a lot more, laughing a lot more. Your cheeks were often more red than any other color these days, and it was all thanks to a boy you know.
He was shy, but brave. Quiet, but talkative. Mysterious, but vulnerable.
He made you realize that there was no need to settle for one side of a coin, not when you could have both. The longer you stuck around him, the stronger your desire was to become… more.
You wanted to be open; you wanted to be known. You wanted to be able to ask for what you want, and never feel the crushing sense of guilt that usually came afterwards. You wanted to be unapologetic, wanted to keep your hands open, waiting for good things to come your way. To never cower in the face of a gift being handed to you. You wanted to have all that life has to offer––
(Him. Him. Him.)
But there is something pitiful about being unable to keep your own promises. The embarrassment of returning to the state where you once were, of turning meek at the first sign of adversity. The dreams of a happier life drifts away from you like mist under the morning sun, and the pressing weight of the world once again makes its home on your shoulders.
And so, you do not cry when your boss tells you to pack up your things within the hour.
You do not cry when you cut your finger on the corner of your desk that had never been replaced during your five-year stay at this company.
You do not cry when one of your potted plants smash to the floor when you try to carry too many things at once.
You do not cry when co-workers you’d only barely spoken to come over to your desk with showers of condolences, as if you’d already died.
You do not cry when Kim Namjoon walks over to you, quietly bending down to help you carry your boxes down to the lobby.
And when all is said and done, you most especially do not cry when Min Yoongi runs to you with his lungs burning in his chest, glasses still fogged up from the morning cold outside. His hair is in disarray and his shirt is on backwards, as if he’d jumped out of bed the moment he knew something was wrong. When he skids to a halt right in front of you, the pain etched on his face is as plain as day.
Wordlessly, he takes the last box out of your hands, placing his car keys on top when he can’t hold onto them both. His eyes flit towards your clenched fists for a second, but looks away the moment you notice. Instead, he walks out to the elevator, and you follow soon after.
You do not cry when Min Yoongi helps you load his car with your things. You do not cry when he takes a first-aid kit out of his glovebox and puts a band-aid on your finger. You do not cry when he offers to pass by the local home depot to pick up a new plant when he notices yours is gone. You do not cry when he doesn’t treat you like your life has ended.
(But you feel it. Pricking along your eyes like a dam about to break. He is doing this to you. He’s making you feel again, and it fucking hurts.)
And so, he drives you home.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Yoongi starts after a while, tapping a rhythm away on his steering wheel as he waits for the morning rush traffic to subside. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, worried when you don’t respond. You keep your head pressed against the cool car window, staring blankly at the gray skyline.
“I… I hope you don’t mind if I play you something. Just… Just listen to it, okay?”
You don’t see him, but you hear his fingers switch their tapping to his phone as he unlocks it, searching for the song he wants you to hear. It takes a moment or two for him to find it, soft curses tumbling from his lips as he goes through his Google Drive for the unfinished draft that he hadn’t meant to show you until it was complete, but well––
You were always an exception to him, weren’t you?
The first notes come creeping up from behind you, and it reminds you of the way Yoongi would speak to you. All soft whispers and gummy smiles, like he’s restraining himself. Slowly but surely, the music grows louder, more confident with its sound. You can picture Yoongi standing upright, hand outstretched towards you as he asks you to follow him.
The song is unfamiliar, but there’s something about it that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention. You’re trying to go through your memories, sorting through the hundreds of songs that Yoongi has made you listen to but none of them seem to ring a bell. You’re still trying to figure out if you’d heard this before when the lyrics finally start.
“Lost in the sea of my regrets, you became my polaris.”
Yoongi’s voice comes from the radio speaker, jolting you from your seat. Your spine straightens, and you stare bullets at Yoongi’s phone as the song continues to play. When you look towards him, Yoongi’s face is a statue; the only thing giving away the fact that he was with you at all was the steady rise and fall of his chest.
“The shadows, which had been my haven, no longer feel as good as they once did. You, my light, have changed all of that.”
You gasp, and Yoongi’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. It seems like the two of you stop moving at that moment, neither of you daring to breathe. Even the outside traffic sounds muted compared to the sound of your hearts hammering inside your chests.
“I’ve long since forgotten to pray, but I will remember for you. I only dream of happiness for you, my morning light, my northern star. And I’d give it all up for you.”
Yoongi notices your tears fall before you even do; he’s quick to fluster, scrambling through his car side door for a tissue to hand to you, but he stops the moment he feels your hand fist the elbow of his sleeve. He turns to look at you, all blotchy and tear-stained, but beautiful all the same. And even through your tears, you smile just as radiantly as when he had first seen you.
“Thank you,” you mouth, fingers trembling as you fight to keep more tears from falling, but nothing can stop a dam from breaking. Not when you’re sitting beside the hurricane who broke it in the first place; it was the boy with feelings that never did quite fit in his body the way other people’s did.
Luckily, they fit right in with you.
When the song comes to the end, you’re sniffling up a storm, but you still haven’t let go of him. When you’re only a few minutes away from your apartment, Yoongi parks a little bit far off from your doorstep, so you have to walk the rest of the way home. But you’re still unwilling to let go, not yet.
Gently, Yoongi pries your hand away from his sleeve and you’re about to protest, but the words die on your lips the moment they form when Yoongi rubs his hands along the side of his slacks before placing them in yours. His hands are still cold, but comforting all the same.
“Let me walk you home?” he whispers.
You nod. Of course, you want to say. But he knows what you mean, anyway.
When he goes to unpack your things from the trunk, you shake your head, stopping him from moving any further. “I… I don’t feel like sorting through those things right now. Is it fine with you if I just… Go home for now? Please?” Your brain feels like lead in your skull after all the bottled up tears had finally escaped from years of constant pressure, and you don’t think you’re quite ready to go through all those emotions again. You feel deflated, but better. He always makes you feel better.
Yoongi closes the trunk, locking his car before stretching out his hands for you. You stare at the proffered hand for a moment.
“Oh, right.” Yoongi goes to rub his hands to warm them, but you stop him once more in his ministrations. He looks at you, confused, as you grab his hand from him. You rub circles into his palm, staring at the ground in embarrassment.
“You’re always warming your hands for me… So this time, I’ll warm them for you, okay?”
Yoongi doesn’t say anything in response to that. Instead, he tugs you along towards the sidewalk and keeps you close to him. As he walks with you, you notice the way he leans slightly to the left, like he’s drawn to you––like he can’t help be more than an inch further from you.
You keep glancing back down at your linked hands; he’s shaking, but then again, that could also be you.
You arrive at the gate of your apartment quicker than you would have liked. Neither of you move to separate; when you look back at Yoongi, you see that his eyes are trained on you. He doesn’t even flinch away like he used to. His lips are pursed, like he wants to say something but he’s still too afraid to.
So you say it for him instead.
“Do you have… somewhere to be?” Unlike you, he still has a job. He still has commitments. He still has a life outside of you. You’re hit with fear, once again, at the sudden change in your circumstances.
You might never get to see him again. Is this where your paths cross, never to intersect again? Your stomach drops at the thought, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.
“No, I don’t. I could…” Yoongi trails off, glancing at your apartment with soft hesitance. “If… If you want me to…”
Yes. Please. I’d love it. I love yo–– ”Yes. Stay with me?” you mumble.
“Always,” he promises.
The pair of you trudge up to your apartment, passing by the prying eyes of housewives with your heads bowed in embarrassment. They don’t miss your pinkies linked behind your backs, nor the subtle blushes on the apples of your cheeks. Thankfully, they don’t comment when Yoongi enters your apartment after you, but they do giggle when his coat gets caught on the door handle in his rush.
When the two of you are finally alone, the air isn’t as awkward as you had feared. You work like two cogs in a machine; he readies your TV and scrolls through your Netflix for a movie, while you go to your kitchen and have a small mental breakdown (while also microwaving some popcorn). Soon, the two of you are snuggled into your small couch, elbows barely brushing against each other.
You’re only half paying attention to the generic action movie that Yoongi had put on; you were still deep in your thoughts. You’re picking away at your hangnail, worrying your lip as you try to enjoy what might be the last time you’ll ever get to hang out with Yoongi again. You’re so deep in your musings that you don’t immediately feel when Yoongi wraps his arms around your shoulder, nestling your head into his chest.
“W… What?” You crane your head and stare at Yoongi in shock, but he’s already returned his attention back to the movie. His cheeks are burning.
You’re still stiff with tension despite his comforting caresses against your hair, so he changes tactics and brings your hand up to his.
You think he’s just going to hold your hand, but he keeps bringing your hand up until it gently caresses his face. Just as you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, he curls your fingers until only your pointer is left unfurled, and casually uses it to poke himself in the cheek.
He leaves it there for a second or two, and when you finally turn to face him, he’s smiling so sweetly at you that you almost feel compelled to cry again. His eyes and nose are all scrunched up, rose petal gums on full display. Your finger is still pressed gently into his soft cheeks.
“You said you liked to dream about poking my bread cheeks. Well, here’s your chance,” he says, like it’s nothing at all. As if what he has done was as simple as breathing.
Yoongi’s smile brightens when he feels your form relax against him, giggling softly when you go to pinch his cheek for good measure.
“Bread cheekies,” you say, like you’re in a trance.
Yoongi nods. “Bread cheekies,” he repeats. “And it’s all yours.”
There’s a promise in there, you know. Somehow, he had sensed your worry and had thought of the perfect way to calm you. Like always, he never has to say it. He’s never needed words, anyway.
The two of you stay like that for hours. The sun sets as surely as the moon rises, and Min Yoongi stays with you through the night. When your mind drifts off and only your steady breathing fills the room, Min Yoongi brushes a small kiss against your forehead.
“Dream of happiness, my love,” he whispers into your skin, just when he thinks you’re asleep, “I’ll dream of you, too.”
It’s a promise that he keeps.
There is a boy you know who never learned how to say he loves you, but it never mattered all that much to you––not when he’s willing to show you over and over again. It goes something like this––
6K notes · View notes
httpjeon · 2 years ago
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❝keep the change❞ myg ― m.            
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― summary: typically an old man works the night shift at Greg’s Place. however, it seems there’s a new cute guy working the register at night now. and it just so happens it’s finals week...
yoongi/reader | cashier!yoongi | light humor, fluff, smut | 5.3k ↬ content warnings: unprotected sex, squirting, blow job, cunnilingus, dirty talk
a/n: this fic is based off of the yoongi from my fic 1-800-Music-Street, although it can be read stand alone!
→ blog masterlist     → sister fic
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Your whole life was an instance of mental breakdowns and running on caffeine induced autopilot. Your eyes were burning, probably bloodshot as you stared blankly at your laptop. Sitting in a dark room with the screen on full brightness, 'that's how you'll go blind' -- you can hear your best friend ranting about it now.
As you reached into the Cheetos bag that sat on your table, you dreadfully realized that you were completely out of them. You sighed, laying your head on the cool desk to think. You wouldn't be able to continue without feeding your addiction; but it was late.
Glancing at the clock on your laptop, the little numbers read 3:52am.
The only place that was open was the little convenience store located a couple blocks away. It was a privately owned shop named Greg's Place -- sounded more like a weird frat club to you. You'd go there frequently during finals week, it was kind of a sign that the stress to maintain your 4.0GPA had arrived.
You pushed yourself away from your desk and stood up. You were dressed in loose sweats and a black t-shirt that was much too big for your frame and quite frankly you looked like a slob but -- who cares? It's finals season, you had an excuse.
You slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed a fuzzy jacket that was hung up beside your door. It was getting chilly, especially at night and since you were walking, you'd get much colder.
By the time you reached the little shop, you were regretting exiting your house. This was the most you'd been out of your house in the past week and it'd only been 10 minutes.
The little ring of the bell alerted the worker inside, which you assumed to be Youngho -- a middle aged man who you'd had the pleasure to know over the course of his 2 years working. He was a terribly boring fellow and you were positive he was going senile, not that you minded -- he didn't judge you and that's what was important.
You made a beeline for the aisle you knew contained what you were looking for; Cheetos. Just for kicks, you decided to grab the Flamin' Hot kind along with the original -- spice things up a little. You grabbed an extra monster and coffe since you were here. You were well stocked at home but more definitely wouldn't hurt.
As you made your way to the counter, you blew a stray strand of of hair that fell out of your bun from your face. You placed your things on the counter and that's when you noticed. You noticed the fact that Youngho was not the worker that was behind the counter.
No.
You wouldn't be that lucky!
While you were standing at 4am looking like the devil had drug you to hell himself, there was an incredibly good looking man about your age sitting on a stool. His eyes were glued to his phone screen and he hadn't even acknowledged the fact you were standing there.
Usually, you would have held your tongue and perhaps it was sleep deprivation, the caffeine, or maybe both mixed with your sudden racing heart -- but you spoke to him.
"Shouldn't you not be on your phone with customers in the store?"
And then, without missing a beat or even looking up from his phone...he spoke.
"File a customer service complaint, Cheeto-Girl," You nearly bristled at the name he called you before you realized the fact that his voice was fucking hot. It was deep and melodic, holding a calm and slow tempo to it. Then, he finally looked up, placing his phone on the counter and you got a look at his face; dark bangs hanging in sharp cat-like eyes and incredibly soft, pink lips. You licked your lips subconsciously at the sight, watching how he scanned your items and god, his hands! They were the kind of hands that were meant to be wrapped around your thigh in the car or wrapped around your
throat
while he --
"₩16,000.00," He spoke, sounding unbelievably bored. With trembling hands, you pulled out your wallet. You felt impossibly small underneath his intense gaze and you couldn't help but think he found you a complete idiot. This idea was solidified by your final moments of interaction with the hot guy.
You thought you had handed him the correct amount, naturally. Then, as he handed you your receipt, you made
physical contact
with his hand and you felt like you were going to throw up -- he was so warm and he smelled so good. So, you quickly scrambled to grab your bag and haul ass out of the shop but he called after you.
"Wait--"
"Keep the change!" You whined, chancing a glance back at him to see him shrugging and shoving the extra bills in his pocket. You were pretty sure that was illegal but you didn't care as you tucked tail and booked it back home.
-----You wanted to spend a nice lunch with your best friend and try to forget the fact you had embarrassed yourself and that the hot guy probably called up his friends to make fun of you after his shift.
But as you relayed your story to Junkook, his wide doe-eyes fixed on you as you spoke. You felt your cheeks heating up as you revealed the way you actually ran away from him and Jungkook had the audacity to burst out laughing.
It took him far too long to pull his shit together and look at you with clear eyes again. It took him even longer to be able to respond to your story of pure shame;
“So, what you’re saying is,” Jungkook took a liberal sip of his bubble tea, obnoxiously gulping the liquid as you glared at him from across the grated table. “You made a fool of yourself?”
“You’re such a jerk!” You cried, resting your head on your arms as you folded them beneath you, trying to block out his giggles that erupted again.
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The moon was full, casting light over the outside world along with the normal glow of the city. You felt the lull of sleep biting at you and you stared at your empty can of Java Monster sighing. You needed to go get some more before you ended passing out before you could complete your self made study-guide.
Giving in, you pushed yourself off the chair and made your way to the front door.
The walk to Greg’s felt disgustingly short and sure enough, just like you feared, Mr. Hot Guy was behind the counter. Maybe you’d at least get his name today, you thought.
You placed your items on the counter, having thrown an extra bag of Cheetos in the mix.
“Hi,” You ventured, standing awkwardly as Mr. Hot Guy stared at his phone screen still.
“Hey there, Cheeto-Girl,” He replied, once again not veering from the device.
“My name is _____,” You offered and this time, he looked up.
“Min Yoongi,”
You mentally did a little happy dance -- you got his name!
However, your excitement was cut short when he scanned your items and it was time to hand him the money. Anxiety kicked in and before you knew it, you were overpaying him...again.As much as you would have loved to not make a fool of yourself again, naturally you couldn't even do that.Attempting to take the change resulted in physical contact with him, making you jump and before you knew it change was scattered along the counter making deafening noises in the otherwise silent shop. The look in his eyes was almost dead, staring blankly at the coins on the counter.“K-Keep the change!” You squeaked and, once again, tucked tail and booked it.
You were such a coward!
You’d dated guys before -- plenty in fact! But there was something about Min Yoongi that had your heart racing and you were pretty sure he saw you as nothing more than a weird girl who shows up at 3am to get Cheetos and coffee; just a wreck.Then again you were positive you'd never even seen a guy as hot as him in your entire life.
What was a girl to do?
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One thing was for certain in your life; and that was finals sucked. You felt the mounting strain of stress on your shoulders and you could barely get through a practice question without tearing up in frustration. You had bottled it up and now it was ready to burst.
Perhaps a break would help.
The second you stepped outside, you felt the relief wash over you as the cool night air touched your flushed skin.
You took your time walking to Greg’s Place, wanting to extend your break from studying for as long as possible.
The shock of seeing Min Yoongi working had long since passed and faded from your system. However, the heart palpitations his stupidly good looking face and careless aura gave you were still very much alive. You collected the things you usually got but also added a nice little bag of M&Ms to your list.
When you get to the counter, Yoongi is for once actually ready at attention behind it, eyes burning holes into you as you placed your items down. You, however, couldn't be bothered to even form a smile, just watching blankly as he rang up your items.
You pulled out your wallet, ready to pay when he suddenly slammed his palms down on the counter, leaning close to you.
"Alright," He sighed, shaking his head to get his bangs out of his eyes, looking straight at you with sharp eyes. "What's the matter?"
"W-What?" Your wide, startled gaze met his stern one.
"Something's bothering you," He stated, leaning onto his elbows now.
"How do you know?" You asked, poking your bottom lip out in a pout -- trying to make yourself seem more cheerful than you felt. He seemed to see right through it, however.
"Usually you're a stuttering, cute little mess," He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Now you're dead-eyed and...sad. It's gross."
You completely missed the fact he called you cute as you found yourself in a crying fit. Yoongi's eyes widened as he watched the tears travel down your cheeks, at a loss of what to do.
"Wh-Hey, no...don't cry, come on," He rounded the counter, heaving a sigh and awkwardly patting your back. It was almost laughable how bad he was at comforting you.
"I'm s-sorry," You sniffled, wiping your tears away; it was futile as more simply took their place. "I always make such an idiot of myself!"
"Huh?" Yoongi leaned down to look at your face, moving some of your hair out of the way to get a look at you.
"Y-You're cute and you make me nervous and every time I come in here I end up doing something silly like overpaying, dropping the change, running away, and now I'm crying in a convenience store at 3 in the morning!"
"We'll come back to the fact you called me cute," He chuckled, making your face heat up at your own slip up. "Don't worry, I know finals suck."
"How did you know it was finals?"
"I have a friend in college, he's been grinding like hell to prepare," Yoongi shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. The mention of finals had your eyes tearing up again, which made him flounder once again. "Alright, look, how about I take you out and we can stuff ourselves silly, huh?"
"What about the store?" You asked, straightening yourself up now that you'd stopped sobbing.
"Ah, I don't give a fuck. I hate working the night shift anyway," He leaned over the counter and grabbed the keys to the store. "I know a place that's open at this time."
The place Yoongi took you to was just down the street from the store. He opened the door for you, the inside of the building smelling deliciously of bacon and syrup.
"Choose a seat," Yoongi commanded, waving his hand around the small restaurant.
You decided on a booth that was situated in the corner of the place, free from prying eyes and away from windows. To your surprise, there were a few more people inside, enjoying some late-night breakfast food; the scent of this place had you stomach grumbling eagerly.
"There's a menu," You mumbled, realizing there was already one sitting on the table. However, Yoongi didn't make any move to try and look over the menus, making you raise your brow at him in question.
"I'm here pretty much every night, I know what I want," He explained with a shrug.
"Night shift is pretty brutal, huh?" You chuckled, eyeing the breakfast platter on the menu; your mouth practically watering at the idea of that delicious bacon.
"Oh yeah, I used to just work the day shift," He fought down a smirk as he began to tell the tale. "I may have made a post on Twitter about him when Greg came to inspect and he put me on the night shift as punishment."
"Something tells me, this isn't going to make you stop posting on Twitter," Your words drew a laugh from him, giving you a glimpse of a cute gummy smile and you swear your heart stopped.
"Absolutely not,"
"Hey, Yoongi," A deep voice brought your attention to a tall bespectacled man wearing a red apron. "The usual?"
"Yeah, thanks Seokjin,"
"And for the lady?" Seokjin flashed you a charming smile as he waited for your order.
"I'll just take the House Special Breakfast, please," Seokjin nodded, smiling softly as he wrote down your order. "And orange juice to drink, please,"
"You got it," He tucked away his pad and patted Yoongi on the shoulder. "It'll just be a minute."
"Thanks," Yoongi mumbled, giving Seokjin a small smile before he walked away.
"Do you know him from your nights here or..?"
"Actually, we run in the same friend group," He replied with another casual shrug.
"Here you go, you two," Seokjin returned quickly with the prepared food, placing your plates down in front of you.
The two of you ate, making small talk. You were surprised how absolutely not-intimidating he was; from his sharp gaze and sharp tongue when you met him shortly behind the counter, you had the impression he would be terrifying. But now that you witnessed him laughing and joking, you could see the spark of life in his eyes.
"So beside eating Cheetos and studying until you cry, what other things do you do?" He asked, chuckling when you rolled your eyes.
"I go to convenience stores at 3am frequently," You responded cheekily, making him squint playfully at you. "What's your hobby?"
"Well, I like to make music," He seemed almost sheepish as he replied, ducking his head down. "It's a kind of expensive hobby so I work at the convenience store to make money. Producing underground only pays a few bucks...only enough for a package of noodles."
"I think that's really cool," Your words seemed to surprise him, his head shooting up to look at you. "I'm so absorbed in schoolwork I can't even enjoy my major anymore. It's really nice that you're following what you like even though you don't get much money for it."
You could swear his cheeks were dusted pink up to his ears at your words. But before you could really get a look, he was standing up, tossing a few bills on the table as tip.
"I'll pay, you go wait outside," He turned his back to you, shoving his hands in his pockets again. You didn't bother arguing, your college student ass needed to save any money you could.
"Let me walk you home," Yoongi said once he joined you outside. "You can't live far, right?"
"Correct," You folded your arms over your chest, tucking your hands under your jacket to keep them warm as you walked.
"It was really cool that you agreed to come out with me," He said, once you two stopped in front of your home.
"Thank you for taking me out," You could feel your face heating up at her met your gaze. "Even though I consistently make a fool of myself."
"I think it's endearing," He grinned, showing his gummy smile again.
"I think you called me cute earlier,"
"Hey," He turned his head away to hide what you assumed was a blush. "You called me cute too."
"Me and my loud mouth," You mumbled. "But...do you...want to come inside?"
"Sure," He replied quickly before he realized how fast he was. "I mean...I already closed the shop so...I'll need a place to hide when Greg comes hunting for me."
You laughed, the way he said 'Greg' sounding particularly hostile. You opened your door, allowing him inside first. When you stepped in, he was already shedding his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack as if he owned the place. He seemed oddly comfortable, not that you minded. You watched him as you shed your own coat, he peeked into your kitchen and living room, giving a small nod of approval.
"So, what do you want to do now that you have me vulnerable and alone in your apartment?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Wh--" You squinted, rolling your eyes but cut yourself off from engaging. From the look on his face, he was probably jumping at the opportunity to make fun of you. So you gracefully turned on your heels and began to sprint up the stairs, knowing he was hot on your tail.
"Oh, so this is your hermit hole?" Yoongi tucked his hands in his pockets, looking at the mess that was your desk; textbook, laptop and notebook open with pens and highlighters scattered around.
"Don't call it a hermit hole," You whined, flopping back onto your bed with a huff. "It makes me feel like a loser,"
"Hey, don't feel like that," You felt the weight shift as he sat beside you on the edge of the bed. "It's really great that you're tryin' so hard. You're gonna get far in life, better than me anyway,"
"Yoongi," You sat up and placed a hand on his back, comforting. "You're doing what you love. I'm just studying when in the end my degree won't mean shit and I'll end up having a shitty office job in corporate,"
"Why do you do it then? Why don't you do what you want?" He asked, looking at you face to face now.
"Mostly to make my parents happy, to be honest," You admitted, shrugging one of your shoulders halfheartedly.
"Hmm," He leaned back on his hands and looked up at the ceiling. "My parents...threw me out after finding out I wanted to pursue music. I could barely afford to live properly let alone actually try to get an education, I spent a couple years living on the streets. I managed to get a few gigs to produce a track and got some money; I used it to buy clothes and get an interview at Gregs."
"Holy crap," You mumbled, shaking your head in surprise. "You're doing well now though?"
"Well enough," He mumbled. "Things are a lot better than they used to be, that's for sure. I had a couple friends who lived on the street and I kind of had to take care of them...Taehyung and Hoseok. They managed to get jobs and better they lives and so I did the same. I'm certainly not rolling in the cash but I got a little apartment, clothes on my back, and food to eat. That's about all I could ask for,"
"What if Greg fires you!?" You cried, suddenly remembering the fact he shut the store down to take you out.
"Honestly," A small smile played on his lips as he looked at you. "Greg likes me more than he lets on, he won't fire me. I've charmed my way into his bitter little heart,"
His words had you laughing, tossing your head back while he smiles.
"Can I kiss you?" The abruptness of his word cut your laughing short to stare at him wide-eyed. He was staring at you as if he hadn't just asked to kiss you, instead looking like he had just asked what you had for breakfast. Quite the bold man.
"Y-Yes?" Your response came out choked, still not fully over the shock of his sudden proposal.
His fingers were warm and a little rough as he cupped you cheek, angling your head so he could easily slot his lips against yours. His lips were incredibly soft and the few guys you had kissed in the past were nothing compared to the skillful way he pulled you into the passion. You allowed him to ease you onto your back, laying beside you as he continued to kiss you, lightly nipping your bottom lip before he laved over it with his tongue. You clenched your thighs together, feeling a pressure settling in your core the longer he kissed you.
"You're so pretty," He whispered as he pulled away, licking his lips as he gazed down at you; his pupils were blown wide and you could feel the faint hardness of his member against your hip.
He was getting turned on too.
"Yoongi," You whispered, leaning up to brush your lips against his as he hummed in response."Can I...suck you off?"
"Holy shit," He choked, flopping onto his back beside you, covering his face with his hands. "Fuck yeah,"
You felt excitement flow through you and you forced yourself to not fist pump the air in victory. You shuffled your way between his thighs, the both of you scooting up the bed to get comfortable. You reached up, holding your breath as you unbuttoned his jeans, already feeling the way he was steadily hardening beneath the fabric of his jeans.
He spread his legs to make more room for you as you tugged the waistband of his boxer-briefs down enough so his cock popped out, slapping against his stomach.
He wasn't completely hard yet but the sight of him already had your mouth watering. The tip was a pretty pink and a vein on the underside; when you wrapped your hand around the base of him, he let out a soft sigh of pleasure. Giving him a few experimental squeezes, you could feel him harden the rest of the way, his thighs trembling at the pleasure. You couldn't hold yourself back anymore, you needed to taste him.
The tip of his cock was like velvet on your tongue, warm and a slightly bitter taste of his precum melting on your taste buds. As you swirled your tongue around his tip, his fingers tangled in you hair with a groan.
"F-Fuck, sensitive there, baby," He nearly whined and you could have creamed your panties right then and there at the sound. You didn't torture him with over stimulation, instead taking the head of him into your mouth, sucking him generously to hear his moans. At the urging of fingering in your hair, you took him deeper into your mouth. He wasn't incredibly long but the thickness of him was causing your jaw to ache already. The thought of having him stretch you out, coating him in your cum had your cunt clenching painfully around nothing.
You whined around his cock, making him stiffen and groan, biting his lip to keep himself a little quieter. You could feel how his hips twitched faintly, as if he wanted to thrust into your mouth but was holding himself back. Relaxing your throat, you allowed him to slip deeper -- your gag reflex fought a bit but you managed to sink down to the base. Tears trickled down your cheeks but Yoongi was in bliss, tugging at your hair and groaning as you swallowed thrice around him before pulling off.
"Fuck!" He growled, sitting up suddenly, fist wrapped in your hair before he pressed his lips to yours to share a sloppy kiss. "One day, I'll fuck your throat,"
The idea and tone of his voice had you gushing into your panties; the promise of a next time making you squirm.
"Will you let me return the favor?" He asked, voice deep and dark in his words. "Will you let me eat your little cunt?"
"F-Fuck," You whined, his hand that was in your hair traveling to your neck to push you onto the bed.
As he took his position between your thighs, he reached behind himself to tug his shirt up and off his body. Your eyes soaked in the sight of his lean body with pebbled pink nipples that you longed to wrap your lips around to test the sensitivity. You lifted your hips when he tucked his fingers into the waistband of your sweats, pulling them down along with your panties.
"God, so fucking pretty," He growled, dropping onto his stomach and hissing when his cock was trapped between him and the bed. You spread your legs for him, tucking your hands beneath your thighs to expose your soaked slit to him. He groaned, using both of his thumb to spread the glossy lips of your cunt, hissing when you gushed. Any self control he was trying to exhibit snapped his tongue was suddenly sliding into your entrance to taste you. You cried out, tangling your fingers in his raven locks; his hair was incredibly soft you noted through your haze.
Yoongi was way too fucking good with his mouth, swirling his tongue around your clit and sucking the little bud into his mouth. You were trembling, your back arching in pure pleasure as he very abruptly introduced two fingers; sliding them into your clenching hole, making your nearly scream at the feeling of
finally
being filled. He seemed to know exactly what to do to find your g-spot, crooking his fingers up, making your hips arch as you whined.
"Ah, right there?" He cooed, lips detaching from your clit for a moment to watch his fingers fuck you. He spread his fingers, making you groan as he stretched you out.
"Yoongi, please," You whimpered, tugging his hair. He took the hint and kissed his way up your body to meet your lips; making you taste yourself as he slid his tongue into your mouth. His fingers didn't stop abusing your sweet spot, making you whimper into his mouth.
"Fuck," He groaned as he pulled away from you. "Can I fuck you, babygirl?"
You nodded, eyes rolling back in your head as he gave your spot one last stroke before pulling his fingers out.
"Use your words, sweetheart," He cooed, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers, making your lips pout.
"Y-Yes, please fuck me,"
"Good girl,"
He slid off the bed to shed his jeans and underwear; you took the hint and sat up to rip off your shirt, leaving your completely nude on your bed.
"Such pretty tits," He groaned, cupping one in his hand and pinching the nipple generously, taking the moment to indulge himself.
He climbed back onto the bed, grinning when you immediately spread yourself for him. Slowly pumping his cock, he got himself comfortable on his knees. Once he was situated, you sat up on your elbows to watch the way he spread your folds with his cockhead. You sighed in pleasure as he brushed against your clit, lightly slapping the bud to watch your thighs jump.
Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and reached down to wrap your fingers around him, directing him to finally sink into your entrance. He didn't stop you, following your lead and sinking into you until your hips were flush together. The girth of him stretched you to the point it burned, making you whine and moan. You clenched around him, arching your hips to fuck yourself on him.
"Fuck," Yoongi cursed, leaning over you to support himself on hands beside your head. He watched the way you ground up against him, your eyes rolling back into your head at the pleasure. "Dirty girl,"
Finally, he took over, pulling back and slamming himself back in, barely grazing your cervix in the process. His pelvic bone abused your clit every time he sheathed himself inside you. The way he caught your g-spot with every move had you tumbling incredibly fast to what you knew would be a mind blowing orgasm. Your thighs were threatening to close to save yourself from the overstimulation you were beginning to feel.
Yoongi, however, was having none of it. Strong hands gripped the backs of your knees and forcefully spread your legs, leaving your soaking cunt vulnerable to the torture his cock put on it. Your eyes filled with tears, your mouth falling open; you were teetering on an edge that you'd never felt before; he was going to make you cum without having to touch your clit.
It was becoming too much, the coil inside you winding tighter and tighter but not releasing. Your hands pressed against Yoongi's chest to slow him down, but he only grinned and grabbed your wrists with one hand and pinned them above your head.
"Fucking take it," He growled, leaning closer to you to make you look directly into his eyes. "You're gonna cum all over this cock, babygirl, go ahead. Give it to me,"
With him staring into your eyes, watching you, you finally came undone. You tossed your head back but Yoongi tangled his fingers into your hair to force you to look at him again; his hips never stopping as he fucked the forced orgasm out of you. Your walls spasmed and gushed, covering him with cum that he'd love to taste one day. The sight of you cumming so hard for him sent him off of his own end and suddenly, he was pulling out of you before he came inside.
However, having him pull out so suddenly had your orgasm flying to new heights and before you even realized what was going on, the both of you were being drenched in more of your cum as you squirted. Yoongi cursed, using the head of his cock against your clit to keep your squirting as he came messily all over your cunt. You couldn't take anymore and reached down desperately to stop him, trembling all over from the pure force of pleasure you had experienced.
As you were coming down, Yoongi leaned over your exhausted body and kissed you lazily. Neither of you really moved your lips, just enjoyed the feeling.
"You wanna shower?" He asked, voice breathy from his own panting. You peeked out of one eyes and saw the tiny smile on his lips as he regarded you.
"L-Let me...rest for a minute..."
"Damn, fucked you that good, huh?" He asked, growing visibly cocky.
As much as you didn't want to boost his already apparently inflated ego, you couldn't help but admit it with a nod.
"I don't think anyone's ever made me cum like that," You admitted, looking down at your body at the complete mess that covered your skin; both his and your cum.
"The first of many, babygirl," He promised, making you shiver.
If he could fuck you like that every time then you would be a very happy girl.
"Seriously, this cum is starting to dry so let's shower," He grumbled, rolling off the bed to stand naked before you.
"Geez, you're so pushy," You mumbled, letting him pull you to your feet no matter how much like literal jelly you felt like.
"I think you like me being pushy,"
"Don't hold yourself so highly,"
"I knew the second you looked at me, you'd be smitten with me, babe,"
"H-Hey! Me smitten with you?!"
"Don't worry," He cooed, wrapping his arms around your waist to kiss your nose. "I'm pretty smitten with you too,"
"Aw," You giggled, looking up at him through your lashes.
"...Cheeto-Girl,"
"Hey!"
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© httpjeon 2019. do not repost or modify.
6K notes · View notes
icyhobi · 3 years ago
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Milk (M)
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Summary: When trying to deal with your hybrid’s sudden obssesion with milk, you would have never guessed that things would turn out so differently. 
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Smut, hybrid!au, fluff
Word Count: 3k
A/N: This is a two-shot! So please keep in mind that there will be a second part to this story! Any who, this fic contains heavy dom/sub undertones, graphic descriptions of sex, degrading names, slight milk/lactation kink… urmm if you don’t know what that is, maybe this fic isn’t for you :’) Also breeding/mating kink. The majority of the smut will be in the second part! Thus, you have been warned!
“Yoongi.”
“What?”
“If you’re looking for the milk, you’re not allowed to have any.”
“Excuse me?” the hybrid questioned, almost sounding like he was mocking you.
You sighed as you looked up from your spot on the couch, to see Yoongi standing still at the refrigerator, with his head craned towards you, waiting for your replying.
You knew by the way his long black tail snapping up and down behind him in harsh movements, was an indication of how annoyed he was. You couldn’t even see his dark eyes properly since his black fringe was covering them partially, but you could already just imagine the intimidating glare upon them.
You could easily read his emotions because you’ve been living with him since you were only 7 years old. At the time, you were mindlessly on the carpet playing with your stuffed animals, when your parents came home with your mother holding the hand of a young boy. He looked close to your age, maybe a couple of years older. He had porcelain like skin, which contracted his dark black hair. And you remembered the look of excitement that graced your chubby face when you saw two furry white ears atop of his head, and a long furry tail that swayed slowly behind him.
“Kitty!!” you squealed in joy, as the young boy suddenly saw you, and cringed at your loud voice.
You hastily stood up and stumbled your way towards the boy who tried to hide behind your mother. It didn’t work though since you were determined to touch his soft cat-like ears. So with a harsh dash, you finally reached upon to touch his ears in excitement, only to have him hiss back at you. Your eyes widened as saw the sharpened canines of his teeth, and it was your father who pulled you back away from the boy.
His actions angered you, all you wanted was to touch his soft ears! Why was he so mean?
“Bad kitty! Mean kitty!” you suddenly shouted at him, with your chubby small hands pointing towards him.
You saw his pupils momentarily turn into slits, as he glared at you.
“Y/n!” your mother exclaimed, trying to ease the tension between you two. “You can’t talk to him like that!”
You cowered under your mother’s scolding tone, starting to feel your anger slip away.
She then turned to look at the boy and knelt down to his height to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry about that Yoongi… this is our daughter Y/n, she can be a little bratty at times.”
“Hey!!!” you whined at your mother’s insult, only to see the boy smirk at your upset tone.
Your father then held you gently by your shoulders, to lead you towards the boy named “Yoongi”. He stood you half a metre in front of him, to introduce you two properly. “And Y/n, this is Yoongi. He’s a hybrid and he’ll be living with us from now on.”
“What?! You’ll be living with us? Why?!” you blurted out in shock. Why would your parents bring home some random kid to live with you guys?
“Because Y/n, he needs a proper home to stay. And besides, remember your friend Taehyung? He and his family have a hybrid as well, so it’ll kinda be like that,” your mother reasoned with you, trying to make sure you would understand.
You recalled how your schoolmate Taehyung had mentioned he had a hybrid named Jimin at home. You didn’t really know what a hybrid was, but the way he mentioned it, made it sound like he had a pet.
“Ohh! So he’s our pet!”
“No!” your parents said in unison, worried that you would offend the boy.
“He’s not our pet Y/n, he’s… a friend. He can sort of be like a big brother to you.”
“Big brother!?!” you sputtered. You didn’t want a big brother! You liked having all the attention on you, since you were an only child.
“Well yea, how old are you Yoongi?” your mother questioned the boy with a soft gaze.
“I… I’m almost 10,” the boy said quietly, with his eyes on the floor.
“Oh really?” your mother smiled, then pointed towards you. “Y/n is only 7, so I think you can be the cool older leader here.”
What!?! Why couldn’t you be leader!? You were just about to voice your disdain until you saw Yoongi smile for the first time. You stared at him with mesmerized eyes as your complaints died down your throat.  
“Would you like that, Yoongi?” your mother asked.
He looked up around at your family’s home, then towards your mother and father, then lastly at you with a small smile gracing his porcelain features, before he spoke:
“Yea… I would.”
 Ever since that moment, Yoongi has lived with you and your family. It wasn’t till a couple of years later that you learned that Yoongi was a stray abandoned hybrid, that your mother and father saw sitting by himself in the rain, from one of their nights out. They immediately took him in as they couldn’t bare letting something bad happen to him.
In the society that you lived in, hybrids were looked down upon as an inferior species to humans. However, many people did own them for various reasons; for company, labour work, and even intimacy. But if a hybrid was a stray… there would be a good chance that the hybrid would be kidnapped and forced into sex trafficking or slavery. That’s why your parents took in Yoongi, because he was just a small child like you at the time. Any hybrid without a collar, would be considered a stray, so the next day when they brought him home, they went to fill out the registration forms and buy him a collar to officially become the ‘owners’ of him. They never treated him badly though, they treated him more like a family member, and sometimes you even felt as if they would give him special treatment… which irritated you greatly.
Living with Yoongi for all these years wasn’t necessarily bad, it was just that… he found great pleasure in ignoring you and purposely trying to make you annoyed. Like honestly, what was his problem? You always tried to be nice with him, but he would just ignore it or retort with a rude side comment. You wondered why he couldn’t be more like Taehyung’s hybrid, Jimin. Jimin was also a cat hybrid, but he was so cute and friendly unlike Yoongi, who looked as if he would claw your eyes out if you bothered him too much.
To make matters even worse, when you finally decided to move out and get your own apartment for school and a job, your parents signed over Yoongi’s adoption forms to you. Thus, he also moved in with you. Yoongi himself complained about it, but your parents didn’t want you to move all the way into a brand new city by yourself.
The first couple of months living with just Yoongi was horrible. He could be such a dick at times, much like when he was when he was younger. Till this day you still don’t even know why. He was nice to your parents, but when it came to you, it was as if he found you irritating. And all though you would never admit this to anyone, but it did sort of hurt you. You’ve been living with him for almost 16 years now, and you couldn’t help but notice that he grew into be one very attractive hybrid. A very annoying, but handsome hybrid.
“What’s with the stupid look on your face?” Yoongi said, breaking your thoughts.
“What?”
“You completely zoned out.”
“Oh sorry,” you said with a slightly embarrassed tone. You looked at his annoyed glare while he was still holding the refrigerator door open.
Oh right, the milk!
“You can’t have anymore milk, Yoongs.”
You saw his hands form fists at the nickname you gave him to purposely bother him.
“And why not?” he asked, getting tired of even speaking with you.
You sighed in irritation, did he really not know? “Yoongi, you already drank two full bags of milk this morning! There’s only one bag left, and you aren’t allowed to touch it until I go grocery shopping tomorrow.”
“Well its not my fault for being thirsty,” he scoffed.
Really? Was that all he had to say in his defense? He was drinking an unusual amount lately, and it was honestly doing a huge number on your grocery shopping bill.
“Uhh yea it is! If you’re really that parched, just go and drink water!” you reasoned.
“I don’t like the taste of water.”
“Water doesn’t have a taste!”
“Exactly. Glad you agree with me.”
“Ughh!” you groaned, finding him to be extremely difficult to deal with today. Why couldn’t he just ever listen to you like a normal hybrid?
You glance over to see that he has completely ignored your request and continues to stick his head in the fridge to find the last bag of milk you hid. He reaches in the far back to move half of a watermelon, only to find the last bag.
“Here it is,” he said with a little victory smirk.
You saw that he was really going to cut the plastic open, and drink straight from the bag, ignoring your pleas.
“Yoongi!” you screeched, rushing over to stand by him to snatch the bag out of his hands. Except as soon as you had touched it, his grip tightened while you tried to pull it away.
“C’mon now Yoongs, I think you’re a big kitty now that can handle a day without milk.”
You were expecting him to get mad and sneer a sassy retort at you, but you saw his nose start to twitch intensely and his pupils turn into slits for a few seconds.
“Uhh, Y/n can you please go…” Yoongi groaned as he shook his head while still trying to keep the milk to himself.
Why is he acting like that? Does he smell something bad? I don’t smell anything… you mentally questioned in your head since it looked like there was a scent that was affecting him.
“No. I said you can’t have anymore,” you spoke with a stern voice.
“Oh please Y/n like I’d listen to that.”
Ughh! Rude! Why does he have to act like this?!
“Why must you always have to act like a dick? I promise I’ll buy more for you tomorrow, just please leave this one, so I can at least have some.”
“I act like a dick because you’re overly annoying me.”
That was it. You were getting mad at this point. How were you annoying him, when he was the one acting like a stubborn child? It was such a simple request and you can’t even fathom why he always wanted to disagree with you.
“Just be a good little obedient hybrid, and listen to your owner!” you shouted, without thinking.
You saw him stiffen at your harsh words, and then took that as your opportunity to snatch the milk away. Except… you gripped the bag a little too tightly and pulled with all your strength – only to have it rip and all the milk splatter over Yoongi and the floor.
Oh no… what have I done…
The air was filled with complete silence as you watched Yoongi’s hands form into fists and look up with venomous eyes.
Even though Yoongi himself wasn’t that much taller than you, the looks and aura he gave you, was enough to make you wish to dig yourself a hole and never come out. His white fluffy ears were pulled back, a sign of great stress.  You’d imagine that his cat-like ears and tail would make him seem a bit less intimidating, but it was the complete opposite. Since you knew he didn’t have no indoor housecat in his DNA, but that he was mixed with the genes of a strong and fierce white tiger. Thus, you were a bit nervous as to how he would react.
“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t me-”
“You did this on purpose.” he seethed, interrupting your apology.
Just the way he spoke, gave you goosebumps – you knew you were so fucked.
“N-no I didn’t!” you stuttered, trying to ease his anger. “Here, I’ll go and set up a bath for you!” you suddenly blurted, then ran for your life towards the washroom, to avoid his uproar.
You knew he was beyond pissed. He didn’t get to have any milk, and now he had to go wash himself, which he despised. Naturally, him being part feline made him not so fond of getting wet – so the fact that he had to bathe again because of you, most likely made him furious.
You quickly arrived in the bathroom, then turned on the tub to fill with warm water. You plug in the drain to make sure the water stays, then grab the soap to make bubbles. You were so focused on trying to make a perfect bath for him as an apology, that you didn’t even notice when he slowly walked in behind you, locking the door.
Just looking at you, kneeling and bent over the tub, was making Yoongi go insane. This was all your fault. You were the reason he couldn’t quench his immense thirst – because his thirst was for you. Even though you two have been living together for so long, he was surprised and annoyed about how little you actually knew about hybrids, more specifically about him. The reason his been especially thirsty and avoidant of you this week was because you began your ovulation cycle. Ever single time you were menstruating was pure torture for him. Why? Because he could smell how ready you were to be bred. How eager your body would be to bare his cubs. How nice it would be to drink your milk instead of the stupid store-bought ones.  That’s why he would try his best to keep his distance away from you, whenever it was close to your time of the month. And the fact that you were spending a lot of time with Taehyung, and his hybrid Jimin, drove him nuts. You’d always have that cat hybrids scent all over you, which he hated.
You were his.
He knew that you had to be his mate, he wanted no one else.
But he just didn’t know how to express it. He was abandoned one time, all those years ago, and he didn’t want that to happen again. He didn’t want to be so close with his owner, only to be thrown on the street again. But he knew that you and your family weren’t like that. He was just… scared. He was just so bad at expressing himself, so that’s why he chose to always act a bit cold towards you. But he also did it to get a rile out of you. To get you hot tempered and flushed face. He knew you so well. He knew how you loved to act like you were in control, that you can lead. But he saw all through that, because in reality… you were a little brat who was always eager to please.
You were just a sub in disguise.
And as he walked quietly behind your unknowing form, a small smirk played on his lips, knowing exactly how to make you realize what you were.
You jumped a little when you suddenly felt cold hands wrap a piece of fabric around your neck. You touched the article and looked down slightly to see the little bell in the middle of it.
Isn’t this… Yoongi’s collar?!?
You whip your head back only to see Yoongi staring down at you with a hooded look in his eyes. Your eyes travelled to his neck, and you realized that your suspicion was right – he removed his collar and put it on you.
“What the hell Yoongi?!”
He ignored you, and went to turn the tap off, stopping the water from overflowing. He then crouched down to your kneeling height and tapped your shoulder.
“Turn around.”
You felt your voice get caught in your throat from his demanding tone. And for some odd reason, you hesitantly listened to him, shuffling around till you faced his dark eyes.
“You know,” he spoke with a deep voice, while toying with the humiliating bell on the black collar that was around your neck. “You’re such a little brat.”
What?!
“E-Excuse me!?!”
At your shocked expression, Yoongi’s smirk only grows wider. “You like people to think that you can lead, that you have control, that you are superior. But I see right through you Y/n.”
What… is he talking about?
“I can see that you like to pretend that you have some sort of dominance over me, but oh how wrong you are. You’re just a kitten who loves to mess around and be put into her place.”
Where is he going with this… you freaked mentally, since his close proximity was starting to make you feel nervous. Nervous that he could sense how your heart beat increased dramatically when his hand would gently glide over your neck. And most of all, you were nervous that he could sense the slight tingle you felt down there, the more he played with the leather restraint on you.
He then gripped your collar, bringing your face closer to his before he finally spoke his thoughts with a bite on his lip;
“Why don’t you be a good little pet, and let your owner take care of you?”
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httpjeon · 2 years ago
Text
— show | yoongi (m.)
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min yoongi/reader | smut | boyfriend!yoongi
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wordcount: 2.1k
contents: pure PWP, voyeurism, cunnilingus, dirty talk, daddy kink, light praise kink
― synopsis: yoongi decides to show the boys how he makes his girl cum with his mouth alone
note: this is a repost from my old blog byleo. it has been edited.
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blog masterlist
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©  httpjeon 2019. do not repost, modify, or translate.
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His lips were soft and warm against yours, sweet with the taste of Bacardi on his tongue. His fingers were tangled in your hair as you straddled his lap, desperate to pull you closer to his body. You were dressed in just a pair of shorts and a sports bra to fight the heat your almost-drunk stupor had caused over your body. Yoongi’s shirt was crumpled on the couch beside you two, forgotten in a desperate haste, paired with a pair of loose gray sweats on his hips, giving a subtle tease to what was beneath.
He was a vision of fucked out with a light sheen of sweat on his body and his hair a mess from you tugging on it constantly. His lips were swollen, red and pretty and he had several hickies already blossoming on his smooth skin.
He was rock hard beneath you, occasionally groaning into your kiss when you would grind down on him as you were desperate for some friction on your aching clit. Your blood was pounding in your ears, blocking out all other sounds in the room. Whimpering, Yoongi’s teeth caught your bottom lip, pulling it away before it popped back in place causing you to shiver in pleasure.
“You two sure know how to put on show,” You could barely register the voice through your haze, but you assumed it was Jimin.
Yoongi grunted in response, his hand not in your hair travelled down to cup your ass to hold your more against his cock. Whining, the soaked fabric of your shorts providing sinful friction against your pussy. You dipped your head down to trail yout tongue down Yoongi’s neck, nipping at the spot below his ear that made him hiss.
“Get your bra off, baby,” Yoongi growled, desperate to get his mouth on you.
You quickly discarded to fabric, barely having time to drop it off before Yoongi was cupping your breasts in his hands with his mouth attached to a pert nipple. His fingers pinched the other one, rolling it as to not leave it neglected while his mouth gave pleasurable friction to your other one. You pushed your chest closer to him, your head falling back as you moan his name as a shiver travelled down your spine.
Yoongi was gifted with his tongue, that was something you could not deny -- it was even better between your thighs.
“She sounds so sexy when she moans,” Namjoon’s whisper floats through your fog, making you smirk.
“When’s hyung gonna make her feel good?” Jungkook mumbled, tone almost having a biting edge to it, desperate to see some action.
“I think…she’s feeling pretty good already Jungkook…” Jin whispered, licking his lips as he watched Yoongi slip his hand into the back of your shorts to cup your ass directly.
“Filthy girl,” Yoongi growled when he pulled away from your breast. “You’re not wearing fucking panties.”
You heard various sounds of surprise and approval from the audience in the room. You bit your lip, gripping Yoongi’s hair to direct him to the nipple his mouth hadn’t given attention to yet. Adding a snarky, “Just for you, baby.”
With a smirk, his lips immediately wrapped the pert bud, his tongue lashing at it and his teeth scraped deliciously, sending shivers down your spine. He gave a firm suck, relishing in the low whimper you let out in response. His hand in your shorts slid further down until his fingers met your wet entrance. He pushed his fingers through your folds, enjoying the feeling of you soaking yourself and him. You whimpered, grinding down against his fingers as you eyes rolled back in your head at the teasing he was giving.
“Take your shorts off for me, babygirl,” Yoongi commanded, tone leaving no room to argue, so you quickly obeyed.
You stood up, the room spinning slightly from your intoxication. Yoongi sat on the couch, his legs spread, and his hands holding your waist to steady you. You could clearly see his cock hard in his sweats, causing your cunt to clench pathetically in your shorts. You hooked your thumbs into your shorts, tugging them down until they pooled around your feet with a string of arousal following and clinging to your inner thigh. The action gave the boys in the room a view of your ass and a peek at your cunt; you could hear their intakes of breath and a few groans.
Before you could crawl back into Yoongi’s lap to continue where you left off, a deep voice interrupted.
“You know, Yoongi-hyung, you talk all that shit about your ‘tongue technology’…but you haven’t…shown us,” Taehyung muttered, faint teasing in his tone. “Why don’t you uh…’take her to Hong Kong’.”
Jungkook made a soft noise reminiscent of a grumble before adding, “It can’t be that easy to make her cum with your tongue…”
“I’ve never been able to,” Jin muttered, earning a nod of agreement from Hoseok.
“I’ve been able to if I use my fingers,” Namjoon said.
“I’ve never even tried eating my girl out,” Jimin whispered, his cheeks a little pink.
Before the conversation could ruin the mood by turning into some long-winded story session, Yoongi spoke.
“Well, boys, enjoy the show. Maybe you’ll learn something,” Yoongi got close to you, his lips brushing your ear. “What do you say, baby? Wanna give them something to jerk off to for the rest of their lives?”
Whether it was the alcohol in your system or just being desperate to feel Yoongi’s tongue on you, you nod either way. You could feel your juice dripping down your thigh, so needy already.
“Lay down for me then, baby,” He whispered, giving a light slap to your ass which made you squeal and giggle.
You dropped onto the sofa, immediately sitting with your back against the back of the couch and spreading your legs with your feet on either side of you on the couch. All the men in the room zeroed their gaze to your cunt, dripping wet; your entire cunt was glossy with your juice. Yoongi licked his lips and dropped onto the floor between your legs, pupils blown wide in lust.
His hands gripped your inner thighs, forcing your legs to stay open -- not that you had any intentions of closing them. You could sense the boys were getting closer to you to watch what Yoongi was doing better. Without missing a beat, Yoongi licked up the creaming wetness that gathered at your entrance, moaning softly at your taste. His cock was throbbing in his sweats, precum wetting the fabric.
“Fuck, please Yoongi…” You whimpered. “Make me cum.”
Yoongi cursed softly, “Yeah baby? Want Daddy to make you cum?”
You nodded frantically, tangling both hands in his soft locks and tugging. He chuckled softly, dark eyes glancing up at you through his messy bangs. “Tell Daddy, baby,”
“Puh-Please Daddy…make me cum.” You whined, arching your hips towards him to entice him. “Make me cum in your mouth…”
“Shit baby, so pretty when you beg for me,” Yoongi whispered. All the other members in the room were tuned out, it became just you and Yoongi.
He held your cunt open with his thumbs, taking another lick up your entrance. He moaned again, your taste one of the most delicious things he’s ever experienced on his taste buds. His tongue quickly found its way to your clit, his lips capturing the sensitive bud and sucking. You whined, trembling beneath his tongue work. He released your nub from his mouth, using his tongue to begin licking slowly around your clit.
“Fuck baby, your little clit is so swollen. You’ve been wanting this this whole time huh? Wanting me to eat your fucking cunt in front of everyone?”
You couldn’t respond because he was already swirling his tongue around your bud over and over again. His tempo was slow, he was taking his time. He was building your pleasure up to new heights, making your body tense, trembling underneath every move he made.
He nipped your clit with his lips, licking your entrance again to get a taste of your juices. Suddenly, he sunk his teeth into your thigh making you cry out, yanking his hair so hard you were sure he lost some of it. Yoongi didn’t mind, the pain making his cock twitch in his sweats.
He was sure he would cum in his pants by the end of this, wouldn’t even need to touch his cock, he’d make a mess without ever being touched. Just your taste, along with being watched by his best friends was incredibly hot.
“This is…the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Taehyung whispered, voice raw with arousal.
All of them were shamelessly palming themselves either over their pants or had their hands stuffed inside to jerk themselves off. Yoongi smirked at that fact, knowing this was all they’d ever get to see of you in this way. Yoongi also knew they’d jerk themselves off for months using this as material.
Yoongi heard to rise of your cries, knowing that sound so very well; he alternated between hot swirls of his tongue, nips and sucks with his lips. Your back was arching off the couch and your fingers had found your breasts where you were pinching and rolling your nipples between your fingers. Usually Yoongi would punish you for touching yourself like that, but it was giving the guys one hell of a show so he let it slide.
“Daddy…it feels so good…” You whined, tears stinging the back of your eyes at the pleasure.
He pulled back slightly, licking his lips as he did to gather the lingering juices. “Fuck baby, Daddy’s gonna make you cum now,” He turned back to the boys, with a smirk, who were watching with lustful eyes. “Watch this, boys.”
He pinned your thighs open, leaving you unable to move them at all while also leaving you incredibly exposed. Then his tongue was on you again.,except this time, his pace was completely different since last time. His mouth was punishing, intent on pushing you to your orgasm terrifyingly fast.
It was going to be an intense one, you could feel it. Your body was instinctually locking up, fighting the orgasm. Yoongi always liked to give you the command to cum. But he didn’t take a second to pull away from you. He continued to lash your clit with his tongue, making disgustingly lewd slurping sounds as he sucked your juice from your dripping hole.
His lips wrapped around your clit, isolating it in his mouth so his tongue could swirl around it.
Then you were cumming-- hard.
Lights exploded behind your eyes as you squeezed them shut tight. His lips stayed wrapped around your bud as it throbbed in his mouth though your release.
“God, look at that,” Jin mumbled,bewildered as he watched, biting his lip.
“That’s so fucking hot,” Namjoon added, voice breaking off in a moan.
“I’ve never seen a girl cum so hard from being eaten out,” Hoseok commented, surprise obvious in his voice.
Your body was trembling, fingers tugging at Yoongi’s soft locks. His mouth released your bud, using his tongue to lick up the cum that leaked out of you to ease you through the ecstasy. You were whimpering and crying out, his name mixed with curses and pleads. When your orgasm finally began to subside, your eyes fluttered open, greeted with the sight of Yoongi slowly lick you, cleaning up every drop of cum off your sensitive cunt, which sent another wave of heat through you.
Finally, he placed a soft kiss against your clit, making you jump slightly and whine at the sensitivity you felt. You released his hair, petting it softly. He nuzzled his face into your stomach, smiling softly up at you.
There was someone clearing their throat in the room helping you zoned back into the fact that there were 6 other men in the room. Some had an obvious hard-on that they were trying to cover and others had clearly cum to the sight of your orgasm.
“Well uh…thanks for the…uh…how to…” Jimin mumbled, scurrying down the hall to his room.
“That was a sexy show, maybe we can have a rerun sometime,” Namjoon added, much less embarrassed than Jimin, before he and the rest filed out of the room.
You made eye contact with Yoongi and smiled slyly. “Want me to suck you off, babe?”
Yoongi chuckled at your crass way of asking and shook his head.
“It was so hot that…uh…I came in my pants to be honest babe,”
Fuck.
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5K notes · View notes
floralseokjin · 3 years ago
Text
;boy.girl (m)
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pairing— min yoongi x reader genre/warnings— smut, slight angst, romance, friends with benefits au, roommate! yoongi words— 14,139
summary— Boy. Girl. It’s as simple as that. Girl can’t get a good date—scrap that—girl can’t get a good lay, and boy is willing to help out with that... Friends with benefits seems the perfect solution, except for the fact, it’s not. It never is. Not when boy already has feelings for girl...
Listen to— boy | offonoff
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“What the fuck,” Yoongi astounds. “That’s some insane shit if I ever did read some.”
“Shut up,” you groan, attempting to grab your phone from him.
“No, come on!” He exclaims, holding it away from you before turning his back, beginning to read the message once more.
“I feel like my hand or leg has been cut off and I keep thinking maybe I can get it re-attached or maybe I’m going to bleed out.”
You wince as he repeats it, wishing you’d never shown him the damn thing now, not if he was going to rub it in…and in…
“That’s the wackiest shit ever—how many dates did you guys go on?” Yoongi continues, turning back to you, and after another little reach, you successfully have your phone back in your hands.
“Three,” you answer begrudgingly.
Yoongi bursts out laughing. “Fucking three and he said that to you. I’d be scared, stalker alert,” he tells you, wide eyed, and you push at his shoulder.
“You need to stop looking for men on Tinder,” he continues, as if he’s some kind of expert.
“Yoongi, it’s not funny,” you whine. “I broke the guy’s heart.”
You feel guilty, while Yoongi just finds it even more amusing, snorting so loud it hurts your ears.
“The funniest thing is that you only ever kissed the dude, like what the fuck,” he continues, and you’re sure there’s tears in his eyes. “How can he be so whipped already?”
“Yoongi,” you warn, voice annoyingly high pitched.
He stops laughing for a moment, as if he’s finally realising how serious you are about this and holds up his hands in apology. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats.
You sigh dramatically, letting your back fall to the couch you’re both sitting on, eyes staring at the ceiling. “Honestly, is it that hard to get someone to have sex with me?”
“Well, Mr. No hand would have jumped at the offer, clearly,” Yoongi states, and you can sense that he’s trying to hold back a smirk.
“Stop,” you roll your eyes, turning to look at him again. “That’s offensive.”
“To who?” He asks, pulling a face. “The guy only lost his hand hypothetically.”
You ignore him, because if there’s one thing to know about Min Yoongi, he always has to be clever about something.
“Besides,” you sigh, you know what I mean. Why can’t a normal person have sex with me?”
“Now who’s being offensive,” he quips, and you pout, folding your arms across your chest.
He shifts in his seat, facing you as he nudges your shoulder. “But okay, answer me this,” he begins, and you look at him from the corner of your eyes, feeling a little nervous.
“What was wrong with that one guy? I can’t remember his name—Jack, was it?” He asks, and you inwardly groan. “Y’know, the one with that hippy look and smelt like he was carrying about two tonne of weed on him.”
“You know what was wrong with him,” you snap, and no, it wasn’t the drug habit surprisingly.
“Oh yeah,” Yoongi glees, face brightening up, “he was balding.”
You groan loudly, hands coming out in the air like a child having a tantrum. “How was I supposed to know? He wore a beanie on every single date!”
The memory still made you shudder a little, how you found out…and it wasn’t even like going bald was a problem, you knew it happened, it was just a terrible surprise, one you couldn’t get past. Kissing him one night, beanie finally off (all your dreams come true,) you’d run your hands through his hair only to feel the cool, bare sensation of his scalp. The texture was enough to make you scarper, and you hadn’t seen the guy since. He was probably glad he’d had a lucky escape from such a superficial bitch.
“There is nothing wrong with being bald,” you can hear Yoongi emphasising—rubbing it in more like. “I would date a balding person.”
“Good for you,” you mutter, having done with this conversion, but Yoongi continues.
“You could’ve just fucked him anyway,” he shrugs, “ignored the bald patch.”
“Stop being an idiot,” you say, unable to add expression to your tone. “Really though,” you groan, dramatic as ever as you drop your head into your hands. “I guess now’s the time to accept I’m going to be alone forever and live with a shit ton of cats.”
“—and a housemate called Min Yoongi,” you hear him glee, nudging your shoulder.
“Oh great,” you say sarcastically, lifting your head back up. “I’m stuck with you too?”
“Hey, don’t be like that,” he grouches, and you giggle, your gaze lingering for a moment.
Despite how annoying, and sometimes incredibly unhelpful Yoongi was, it was nice to have him around for the most part. You’d only been living together for six months, a blessing for him because his old roommate had bailed on him two months into their year long lease. You’d recently moved back into the area and knew of Yoongi in passing, never this close though, these months together had changed that… You should probably start calling him a friend by now, instead of just thinking it…
Unless he now wants to chance it all…
“Come on, no, tell me this,” he begins, a grin on his face, as if he’s excited, maybe a little apprehensive when you catch the glint in his eye, and you’re instantly curious, waiting for him to continue.
“Am I a “normal” guy?”
You pull a face, confused by his strange question, but he’s looking at you so…hopefully, you feel the need to answer him.
“Er, yeah…”
“So given the choice, you’d fuck me?”
“YOONG!” You are well aware you’re shouting, but it’s your first reaction. You can’t help it, the shock flying up your body like a lightning bolt. “What the hell,” you manage next, voice now weaker as the surprise settles in.
He shrugs. As if he just asked the world’s most normal question.
“Well you just said you want a normal guy to have sex with you, and correct me if I’m wrong, but you just said I’m normal, so…”
He can’t be getting at what you think he is. He’s crazy, or drunk… But you haven’t even had much, a bottle of rosé between you… He’s also seriously looking for a response, gaze unwavering from your face. You’re careful to make each word as clear as you can, just to knock some sense back into him.
“Yeah, but I live with you, you’re my roommate! It would just be super weird.”
“Oh? So I’m not your friend? Just someone you live with?” He asks, and you instantly panic.
“I didn’t mean it like that—
“Because that’s great, it won’t be weird at all,” he carries on with a grin.
You’re frazzled, eyes flickering across the coffee table just to make sure you were of sound mind. You are. There’s just one empty bottle of wine. Why is this happening? How is this happening?
“I’m not having sex with you,” you insist. Not really a refusal, just a statement, because he must be crazy.
“What? Because we’re friends, or because you don’t find me attractive?”
“Yoongi!” You exclaim. His tone is light, and Yoongi is known for being sarcastic at the best of times, so you can’t tell what’s serious and what’s not. Is he joking around, or is he actually offering himself right now?
“I’m just wondering,” he shrugs, head dipping down as he mumbles, “my feelings are kinda hurt, that’s all.”
“I-I—no!” You’re flustered now, not making sense. “You are good looking,” you insist, and he perks up, a smirk on his face, but you’re not done. “I just, I know you too well—you’re my friend.”
He ignores you, of course he does.  
“Okay so, if we didn’t know each other? Met in a different setting, how about then?”
You’re too confused to contemplate why he’s so adamant, feeling propelled to think this through and give him an answer. Because yes, probably if you didn’t know him, you’d sleep with him. Why wouldn’t you? He was good looking, charming, funny… If you didn’t know him as well as you did right now maybe there would be no holding you back…or maybe this dry spell had turned you deluded.
“Well, sure, I guess… If we met at the club, or I don’t know, the library—
“—the library?” He interrupts, looking confused, but he has a smirk on his face that makes you feel kind of funny, nervous…because you’re looking at him differently.  
“Yeah, I don’t know,” you shake your head, feeling flustered. Your cheeks are probably red, and if so, he’ll definitely notice. That makes you panic even more.
“Quit putting me on the spot—what are you doing now?”
You’re distracted when you notice him reaching for the coffee table, your forehead scrunched in confusion when he picks up one of the books you keep on there. He opens it up on a random page, pretending to read it before he glances at you, taking a double take before grinning, and then he’s holding his hand out to you, grabbing yours when you don’t take it, opening his mouth to spiel absolute crap.
“Hi, I’m Min Yoongi, and I was just reading, er,” he pauses, closing the hardback to read the title. He pulls a face. “How to be more cat.”
You and he both know he’s more of a dog lover. Min Yoongi would never want to awaken his inner cat, no matter how much alike they already are.
“What brings you to the library?”
“Yoongi, quit it!” You explode, finally realising what he’s up to. “How much have you had to drink?”
He must’ve had more before you came home, that’s the only logical reason as to why he would be role playing fake meetings right now.
“The same as you,” he shrugs, before getting back into character, one eyebrow cocked. “So, what’s your name? Do you think I’m normal?”
You roll your eyes, unable to see the funny side. He’s just making things uncomfortable now.
“You’re being as weird as Mr. No hand,” you tell him.
“Uh, uh, uh,” he scolds playfully, wagging his finger in the air. Your breath hitches when he bops your nose, his breath breezing across your face as he whispers, “offensive,” but you’re not paying any attention to that.
You’re caught up in his face, the mood that’s filled its way into the room. You feel uncomfortable because you’re effected by this, and it’s not fair, because if he’s joking around, you’re going to end up getting hurt.
“Yoongi,” you whine lowly, silently begging him to be out rightly serious.
“When’s the last time you got some?” He asks instead, and for some reason you find yourself answering him.
“Eight months ago”
“That’s a long ass time, you must be feeling a little desperate,” he grins.
It’s not that long. You and he both know it, but he seems adamant on riling you up.
“All I’m saying is, I’m here—I can help you. No strings attached.”
“You’re out of your mind,” you shake your head. What is he, some kind of service? You don’t need help, just sex.
“Maybe so,” he shrugs, “but what’s the worst thing that you can do, turn me down?”
He wants to have sex with me, you tell yourself, watching his face carefully. He’s not joking anymore, expression as serious as you’re going to get. He’s here, he’s offering, and it would just be some fun…but you can’t—
“I can’t have sex with you,” you whisper, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself it’s a bad idea. “It’ll be like having sex with a brother, or something.”
“A brother?!” He exclaims, and for the first time tonight he looks genuinely offended.
You fluster. “Well, maybe, I don’t know,” you backtrack, because if truth be told, that wasn’t the case.
You saw Yoongi as a roommate, a friend, and someone who was out of bounds for just those reasons… But maybe it wouldn’t matter after all…  
“Since when have I ever acted like a brother towards you?” He asks, and you shake him off, because truth was, he’d never.
However, you’re too busy thinking things through to reply, your mind racing ninety to the dozen. It’s just sex. If you’d wanted to have sex with all those men you’d gone on dates with, you could have sex with Yoongi. Thinking about it, Yoongi was definitely the most normal, and seeing as all those other men had failed, what did you have to lose?
“You want to have sex with me?”
The question comes out a bit more forward than you’d have liked, and you feel a little mortified at yourself, but he’s nodding along unfazed.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks you. “You fail to realise that a lot of men—women too, would gladly bed you.”
You go to open your mouth, touched by his sentiment, but then—
“You’re just too fussy to see…”
“I am not fussy,” you exclaim, instantly offended when Yoongi rolls his eyes and pulls a face. He doesn’t believe you? What the fuck.
“I’m not, really!” You insist. “How should I prove it?”
He still won’t listen to you, and you’re desperate. You don’t know why, because you know it’s all those other guys’ fault, not yours. But you’re not fussy, especially when it comes to Yoongi, because he’s alright, he’s okay, and maybe having sex with him wouldn’t be so bad…
You launch at him. It’s now or never, but you only have a second to feel his lips against yours before he’s pushing you away at arm’s length, looking shocked.
“Woahwoahwoah—
“You just said you wanted to have sex with me,” you half-shout, immediately scared that you’d read it all wrong and he had in fact been messing around.
“I know I did,” he smiles, eyes darting to your mouth, and you’re suddenly nervous. “I just need to be the one in charge here.”
“Why?” You ask, your mind beginning to jumble up, especially when he grips your waist and pulls you closer, excitement bubbling away in the pit of your stomach.
“Because you haven’t gotten a good lay in eight months and you deserve it,” he tells you absentmindedly, as if he’s helping you with a work project, and then he continues and you’re a puddle of mush in his hands.
“You deserve for me to fuck you senseless.”
Kissing Yoongi is nothing like you imagined.  Not that you had imagined such a thing—well, not kissing anyway… His lips are much softer than they look, his movements rugged but somehow gentle at the same time. His hands grip your waist as he lies over your body, the pressure budding the first signs of arousal between your legs. It’s almost impossible to be unaffected. It’s been so long since you’ve even kissed anyone like this, and surprisingly, even though it’s Yoongi, you don’t bat an eyelid. It feels way more natural than it did with limb analogy guy anyway…
“Bedroom,” he grunts, when he just about can’t take it anymore, your hands in his hair, tugging at his dark roots.
By now the question of morality is out the door, you’re just there for the moment, aimlessly stumbling to his room (because his is closest,) still connected to one another, hands and mouths too busy to notice you’re bumping into furniture and door frames.
Well he finally gets you to his bed, the back of your knees hitting the mattress, you fall down with a tumble, him following suit. It’s amazing how his mouth never leaves yours, hands reaching for your shirt buttons as he fights to release your body. You could swear he hasn’t been lucky in months and months with the way he’s acting. You guess that’s just the way men are, but you don’t mind, not when his hands are on your breasts and he’s grinding his crotch into yours.
Getting you naked takes seconds, him not so much. He’s only shirtless when he gets distracted between your legs. He’s like a man possessed, and you’re too dazed with pleasure to reach for him again, especially if he’s putting his plan to good use.
He strokes a finger down your core, and that’s it, he has you. His breath against you is enough, sending a shiver up your body, but then he speaks and it’s game over.
“Let me get you nice and wet first,” he murmurs, spreading your legs further apart.
“Fuck,” you groan quietly, head falling back against the pillows, unable to think clearly because why was that the hottest thing ever?
“What?” He wonders out loud, and you try to look forward to see him but you’re too strung out to gain the energy.
“Nothing,” you shake your head slightly. “It’s just I wasn’t expecting you to be like this.”
There’s something about Yoongi that makes you comfortable in this situation, having a conversation like normal when you’re naked under him, your vagina in his line of eye sight. You just weren’t expecting him to be so forward.
“Oh,” he begins to smirk, rubbing his palms up and your thighs, making you keen into him. “So you’ve been imagining having sex with me?”
“No!” You exclaim, head shooting up before you groan and drop it back down again, hands running through your hair. “Fuck, I don’t know, my head’s a mess right now.”
You wouldn’t admit to it (well, watch this space because you seem a little lax on the self-humiliation right now,) but there had been a couple of instances where Yoongi had brought a girl back to the house and you’d…heard some things. It hadn’t happened in a long time though, but you had found yourself wondering what he’d be like in bed, maybe wishing it was even you for a spilt second… Life with no sex was confusing, and it made you have zero self-control. Hence this moment right now…
“Relax,” he tells you softly, it almost takes you by surprise, and you keen into him once again when he runs his hand down your stomach before his palm is lying flat on your pelvis, even pressure applied which has you squirming a bit.
“Lie back and enjoy yourself,” he continues, and you nod to yourself, trying to calm the impatience that’s formed.
You jump a little when you feel his fingers rub at your entrance, hearing the tell-tale sticky noises of your arousal. He’s too slow, probably purposely teasing you, but one look down and you’re surprised to see he’s watching your face, studying your reaction.
He smiles slightly when he sees you watching and you can’t help but return it, almost as if you’re sharing the most obscure moment.
“I don’t think I have to try too hard,” he says, smile morphing into a grin.
“I’m horny, what do you expect,” you pout, because you are, and you just want him to do something, just to elevate the pressure.
“I’m horny, too,” he agrees with a jerk of his hips, and you’re stomach does a flip.
It’s hard to process this moment, but you know one thing for sure, it’s not awkward at all—quite the opposite actually.
You lift a leg up, nudging his shoulder with your foot. “Just get on with it,” you giggle, and so he does.
You honestly can’t remember the last time you got eaten out… Definitely more than eight months ago that was for sure, seeing as your ex hated doing it. Yoongi seems the exact opposite. He’s enthusiastic, precise, and most of all, diligent. He watches for your reactions eagerly, repeating actions that get you moaning. Each flick of his tongue, each pop of his lips as he sucks at your clit, and each curl of his fingers gets you riled up, and it’s not long before you’re biting down on your bottom lip, inhaling sharply as you try to brace yourself for your impending orgasm.
However, it seems like Yoongi has other ideas…
“Yoongi? What the fuck,” you exclaim when he stops.
At first you think he’s just coming up for air, but before you can blink he’s crawling his way back up your body, face directly above yours, mouth open, panting, glistening with your arousal. He looks hot, but you’re mad.
“I was about to cum,” you bark, feeling the disappoint heavily in your chest as the sensation begins to ebb away. “Get back down there and finish what you started,” you press, pushing at his shoulders.
“No,” he refuses simply, and you can’t believe your ears.
“No?” You repeat, flabbergasted. “Yoongi, you were supposed to be giving me the night of my life.”
The last word is muffled because he begins kissing you again. You want to push him away and have it out with him—you’re due a good orgasm and he’s just ruined it, but you’re keening, his lips feel so good against yours it’s hard not to. Soft, sticky, warm. He tastes like you, and you find it surprising how much that turns you on.
“No,” he continues in between kisses, voice deep, gravelly, rumbling through your body. “I was supposed to fuck you senseless.
Shit. You wish he’d stop saying such a thing. You’re hot and sweaty underneath him, desperate, and he keeps on teasing you like it’s his fucking hobby—it is, most probably.
You kiss him a little more aggressively, fingers pulling at his roots again. “Come on then,” you almost goad. “Fuck me.”
He grunts, immediately pulling away to grip the waistband of his sweats.
“I fucking can’t wait,” he grins widely, and you watch, hearing your heart pound in your ears as he gets just as naked too.
Your unable to take your eyes off his dick, in the back of your mind wondering how this situation came to be, but mostly just really imagining what it’s going to feel like when he’s finally inside of you.
“Like what you see, huh?” He asks, sounding pleased with himself.
You smirk, letting your hands rest on the top of his thighs as he grips his hard—surprisingly thick—member.
“I’ll like it better once I know what it can do,” you tell him.
He laughs at that, amused by your rebuff, but you’re soon distracted when he leans over to open up a drawer on his nightstand, one hand rummaging around for something you can only guess correctly, the other wrapped around his cock.
“Oh shit,” he intones suddenly, looking back at you with devastation.
“What?” You ask, although you already know.
“I don’t have any condoms.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, running your hands through your hair. “Yoongi!”
“Sorry,” he apologies, a slight whine in his tone as he removes the fist from around his dick. “What about you?”
You pull a face, getting more annoyed by the second. “Clearly I don’t.”
“Relax,” he soothes, rubbing your shoulder, but you have good enough hearing to not miss the tiny groan that left him a moment after your answer.
You can’t let this be the end now. You’re in Yoongi’s room, both naked, you’re fucking arousal dried around his lips, his now limp (great) dick in your line of sight. If you give up now, you’re both never getting over this. That’s it, roommates cancelled, friendship over. You know it doesn’t make sense, but the only way to cancel this out is to have sex. It needs to happen, and not just because of your dry spell.
“When’s the last time you had sex?”
He looks dumb at your question, but when you raise your eyebrows he understands your serious and stumbles a little, trying to answer quickly.
“About two months ago, something like that.”
“And you haven’t experienced any weird symptoms since? Irritated skin? Burning sensation when you pee? Discharge?”
If he was confused before, now everything’s perfectly clear, (and if he wasn’t soft before, now he definitely is).
“Ew, shut the fuck up,” he bursts in disgust. “I’m clean.”
That’s like music to your ears.
“Well, fuck me then,” you shrug.
His eyes go wide, unsure on his gauge the situation. His mouth opens to speak a couple of times before he has to swallow, and then he tries again.
“Sure?”
You nod. “I’m clean too, and I’m on the pill.”
He swallows again, gaze shifting down between your legs, almost apprehensively, but not because he’s worried or nervous, maybe something else…because his dick’s stiffening again right in front of your eyes.
“You want me to fuck you bare?” He asks, but his voice doesn’t sound like him. It’s gruff, croaky, and it makes you so desperate for him it almost hurts.
“I want you to fuck me, period,” you tell him simply.
This time he doesn’t even balk, and before you know it he’s kissing you again, hasty and hard. Your hands slide down his thighs and your fingers glide along his cock, your belly twisting in more pleasure as you take him in your palm, working him until he’s at his full and bursting in your fist. It’s not that difficult, and before long he’s buried deep inside of you, stretching you out.
“You good?” He asks, panting above you slightly, hands either side of your head.
“Yeah, I’m really good—shit,” you end up gasping when he thrusts a little. “I feel so full.”
You thought you’d never feel like this ever again the way your dry spell and shitty dates had been going, but now, woah, you were practically vibrating in pleasure.
“Yeah, full with my dick,” he returns smugly, and you can’t even roll your eyes, not now, not ever—well, not when he’s correct.
“Mhm,” you moan, hands travelling down his back to grab his ass, pushing him further into you, wanting more. He’s going too slow.  
“What?” He grins, leaning back, out of your reach. “Want me to go faster? Harder?”
“Both,” you moan, not even realising how compliant you’re being right now.
“Reckon you can take it?” He shoots cockily, languidly beginning to rock his hips into yours, eyes raking up and down your naked body. “Wouldn’t want to break you.”  
“In your dreams,” you fight back, to which he chuckles, finally beginning to move harder.
By now it doesn’t even register that you’re having sex with your roommate—your friend. It doesn’t feel like it at all. The jump you’ve taken doesn’t seem to be a big one, it doesn’t feel abnormal, but you tell yourself it must be because you’re so needy. It must be.
He fucks with intent, watching for each reaction you give him, speeding up and slowing down in patterns, having fun as he tries to work out what gets you going. It’s not hard right now, he realises that and you hear him chuckling to himself quietly when you lie your head back dramatically, covering your face with your hands as you whine.
“Don’t be like that,” he says playfully, dipping down to pull them away. “I want to see your face.”
Your belly brings to flip in excitement, his words having some strange effect on you, and before you know it you’re kissing him again, hands in his hair, because he seems to like that as much as you, his thrusts speeding up, his grunts getting louder, and then your name is falling from his mouth.
“Fuck,” he groans, breaking away from you one final time, his eyes dropping to your breasts as he watches them jiggle up and down as he fucks you. “Say my name for me.”
“Is this some ego thing?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow.
“No,” he insists, before smirking slightly. “It’ll just help when I’m jerking off to memories of this in the future.”
“Yoongi,” you scold with a whine, bashing his arm a little with your fist.
“Ah, kinda like that,” he winces, slowing down each jerk of his hips. “But more like a moan.”
You want to answer him back, to chide him more, but each thrust he gives you gains deeper, and the pleasure makes your toes curl, your body heat up, and you space out, giving him what he wants.
“Fuck, Yoongi,” you moan loudly, digging your nails into his shoulders, and then you’re begging. “Shit—more—give me more.”
He likes that, a glint in his eyes that wasn’t there before, and he’s moving faster, chasing your reaction.
“Fuck me harder,” you add, pushing down on his lower back, wanting to feel the burn you’ve missed greatly.
He complies, but he has a questioning look on his face, as if he’s bemused. “You’re nothing like I imagined either,” he explains.
“What? Think I’m gonna lie back and take your dick silently?”
“True,” he shrugs, and then his infuriating smirk’s back. “It’s impossible to take my dick silently.”
You want to shut him up now, definitely, but he has other ideas…
“I didn’t mean it like th—argh, fuck! Holy shit.”
Each sound of the slap of skin that fills your ears after that tells you he’s going harder than before, grunting as he bottoms out over and over again, and you welcome the burn that travels up your pelvis, your body getting hotter than ever, veins feeling like they’re going to burst.  
“Fucking you bare is so fucking good,” he grunts, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “I can feel everything.”
“So good,” you agree, because yes, the friction is like nothing, the heat of his skin, the sound of each thrust.
“You like it, huh?” He grits out, but something tells you he doesn’t want an answer. He already knows, and by the sound of it he’s getting off on it.
“Feeling my cock stretch you out?” He continues, and you moan loudly.
If he keeps going like this you’ll probably come—fuck, you really want to come. You can’t remember the last time someone made you come…
“You’re so hot around me, tight—it’s so long since you last got some,” he murmurs in your ear, but there’s an edge to his voice, as if he’s holding his breath.
His hips move messily now, but it doesn’t matter, the pressure of his pelvis against your clit is enough, the heat and sweatiness of his body against yours just adding to the sensation that’s building up inside of you, and the sounds, oh, the sounds are what make it the best, the sticky wet squelches that coat his dick as he enters in and out of you—like music to your ears.
“Don’t you want to cum?”
“Uh huh,” you groan, twisting under him, feeling your orgasm reach breaking point.
“You gonna?” He grunts.
You can’t even form a coherent sentence anymore, all you can do is moan loudly, fingers sliding up and down his back pathetically.
“All over my cock, yeah? Yeah?”
Shit, that’s it. That’s the finishing blow.
“Ah, Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoon—”
His name chokes in your throat as the pleasure blitzes through your body, back arching, and you’re so overcome it takes you a moment to realise he’s reached his end too. The second spurt of his come bringing you to as it fills you up. With the third spurt you notice how hot it is, and with the last he’s already fallen out of you, panting over your body as he tries to catch his breath.
“Holy shit,” is the first thing you can say, and you’re sure that’s a good five minutes later when Yoongi’s rolled on his back next to you.
“You good?” He chuckles.
You nod manically, looking over at him, “you?”
“I’m great,” he agrees, rubbing a hand through his sweaty fringe.
It’s not the only thing that’s sweaty, and your eyes glaze over his chest, glistening in
perspiration.
Your mind tells you, you like that sight, and just like that you’re speaking without thinking. It’s so much easier to make a fool of yourself when you’re still on a high from an orgasm.
“You should’ve asked me to do that ages ago.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to care, laughing loudly as he pushes at your shoulder fondly.
He thinks you’re joking, but the funny thing is, you’re not.
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After that things go back to normal. A week passes and you and Yoongi don’t see each other that much anyway, work is busy for you both and most of your interactions are done in the morning at breakfast time, or before one of you is coming home after a long day, running straight to your room to pass out. However, surprisingly things aren’t awkward.
You can make eye contact with him no problem, whine at him when he hasn’t washed the dishes from the night before, not even bat an eyelid when he walks around shirtless—because he likes to do that a lot. Nothing’s awkward aside from fact you think about that night most days—scrap that, every day.
One night doesn’t relieve eight months of pent up sexual frustration. It doesn’t just magic it all away, and it definitely doesn’t cure it. That night was just that, one night, and you quickly realise you probably have another eight months ahead of you without sex. That’s the awkward situation you find yourself in now…and you don’t know what to do about it.
.
.
“I thought it would be more awkward.”
You really like speaking before you think lately, you don’t know what’s up with you.  
“Hm?” Yoongi hums, looking over at you slightly as he tries to keep one eye on the TV.
This, exactly. This is what you mean. Things have just gotten back to how they were, like nothing’s changed. Well, you guess they haven’t.
You and Yoongi have finally found time to hang out, if you can call it that. You’re usually just sat next to each other on the sofa as you read a book and he watches whatever he can find as he switches channels. Only tonight you can’t seem to switch your mind off.
“Me and you, hanging out like usual, after, y’know…” you trail off with a small shrug.
No awkwardness in sight for nearly ten days. Not even when you’d made your way out of his room that night into the shower to rinse his come from between your legs. It was truly astounding and made little to no sense.
“Is someone blushing?” He teases, making you jump a little because you’d dazed out for a moment…thinking back to that night again…
“No,” you shoot defensively, grabbing whatever you can find (a cushion,) and throwing it at him. “It’s just…” you fall short again, shrugging once more. If was like you didn’t know how to explain it.
“It shouldn’t be awkward anyway,” he tells you, clutching the cushion to his lap now, arms crossed over it. “I helped you out, and to be honest, you helped me out,” he watches you seriously, and you raise your eyebrows, intrigued.
“I was getting a serious case of blue balls.”
Elegant as ever, huh.
You ignore his confession and change position on the sofa, hugging your legs to your body, and it makes you remember something.
“I kinda forgot how sore you can get after sex.”
Probably too much information, but it’s Yoongi, it feels like it doesn’t matter with him.
“Same,” he agrees, leaving you a little quizzical. “I think I did my back in a little trying to fuck you as hard as you were begging for.”
You gasp, maybe a little too melodramatically, but you can’t stop yourself. “I was not!”
“Were to,” he smirks. “But it helped, right?” He asks, turning semi-serious for a moment. “Your dry spell’s finally over.”
“Well, yeah, but…” you stop yourself, unsure if you should say it. There’s no harm in it, but you don’t want to come across as ungrateful… However Yoongi’s waiting patiently for your reply.
Just what’s not to say another eight months won’t pass by again,” you begin. “I mean, it was a great idea on your part, but well, I should’ve realised once wouldn’t be enough to end my misery.”
He scoffs loudly, taking you aback. “Quit being so dramatic.”
It’s true, you guess, but before you can whine about it some more he’s carrying on, leaving you mortified.
“Look, are you trying to say you want to fuck me again?”
“No,” you exclaim, eyes wide. Shit, can he sense that all you’ve been thinking about is that night? You feel like a pervert.
Yoongi shrugs. “Want to have sex again, want to have sex with me again—same thing really.”
You frown softly, getting a strong sense of déjà vu, and all this talk of sex is making you het up again.
“I’m not opposed to the idea if you really want to,” he smiles. “A no strings attached basis, friends with benefits—or better yet, roommates with benefits, even less awkward!”
“Really?”
Why are you so intrigued? Roommates with benefits, it sounds like some lame movie that failed at the box office, but…it’s real life, your real life, and it’s pretty shitty if you do say so yourself, so you may as well try and brighten it up a little.
“It’s a win-win situation,” Yoongi nods.
“I guess…” you agree slowly.
“No guessing, facts only.”
“But no funny business, okay?”
You don’t even know what you’re trying to say right now, maybe something along the lines of, let’s keep this strictly sexual, make sure no feelings get in the way… but you’re too awkward for that.
He looks at you pointedly. “My dick’s already been in your vagina, we can’t get more whack than that.”
“That’s not what I meant…” you begin but cut yourself off. “Nevermind.”
It’s you and Yoongi after all, why would it ever come to that? Imagining Yoongi catching feelings—especially for you, is laughable. You haven’t known him to be interested in anymore since you’ve lived with him. A date here and there, a couple of hook ups, and that’s all. You’re safe, you can almost bet on it.
“Fine, it’s a deal,” you nod, holding out your hand like it’s one of the business kind.
“Deal,” he smirks, gripping it with his own as he gives it two hefty shakes.
There’s silence for a moment as you get comfy on the sofa again, but now you’re curious, needing things to be explained a bit more.
“So how does this work?”
Yoongi shrugs, taking no less than two seconds to come up with an answer. “When you’re horny tell me, and I can see what I can do.”
“Isn’t that a bit one sided?” You frown. It doesn’t seem fair? What about him?
Yoongi’s eyes go wide for a moment, but he quickly shakes himself. “If you want, when I’m horny I can let you know too.”
You nod slowly, staring at him a little too long. “That sounds…good.”
You weren’t lying, it did. It was just kind of funny how casual you were both taking this.
You were talking about exchanging sex for favours…other sexual favours—almost like you both were human sex toys… Well, actually, you’d take Yoongi over your vibrator any day, but you wouldn’t admit that to him of course.
“Good,” he agrees, looking back at the TV, and you look down at the abounded book on your lap, you hadn’t even read a page yet. You begin again.
You’re on the last line, ready to flip the page when Yoongi speaks once more.
“I’m horny.”
“What?” You ask him to repeat, looking over at him again.
“I’m horny,” he whines slightly.  “I had a pretty stressful day at work and I just need some kind of relief.”
Shit. This soon? You’re suddenly coming over all hot and bothered.
“My hand was going to suffice but…well…”
You take a deep breath, trying to calm your pounding heart, nudging a little closer to him, your knee sitting on top of his.
“So, do you want me to help you out with that?” You ask, purposely innocent.
You notice Yoongi let out a shaky exhale, eyes watching your mouth carefully. “If you’re free,” he just about murmurs, and then you’re kissing him.
This time you feel a little more in charge, seeing as he’s the one who’s horny tonight, and before long you’re in his lap, his hands on your ass as he massages your hips into his dick under his sweats, your lips never leaving one another, until you’ve subconsciously made the decision to slide off him and crawl between his open legs.
“What you doing?” He asks, semi-dazed, lips kiss bitten and wet.
“I wanna suck your dick,” you murmur, fingers already digging under his waistband to pull him free.
“Fuck, o-kay,” he groans, lifting his hips up so you can pull his sweats over the curve of his ass.
“It’s been ages since I last did it,” you tell him, taking his member in your hand to jerk him a couple of times, moving closer. “Tell me if I’m doing okay, yeah?”
He goes to reply but you’re impatient and before he can blink again, he’s in the warmth of your mouth. You notice his hands grip the edge of the sofa, knuckles white, and it feels good to have this kind of effect on him.
“Your mouth is wrapped around my cock—you’re doing okay,” he chuckles breathlessly, his hands automatically reaching for the hair that’s fallen in your face, pinning it out the way.
“Mhm,” you hum around him, enjoying yourself a little too much.
It had been so long, you’re enjoying getting familiar with the almost foreign body part. You bob your head, you suckle, you slurp, almost acting as if it’s some kind of delicacy, not that Yoongi minds at all.
“You taste good,” you murmur, pulling away to lick a line up the underside of his length, before popping him back into your mouth.
“Thanks,” he chuckles throatily.  “Ah—fuck,” he gasps when take him deeper, and his grip tightens around your head.
You innocently look up at him, soaking in the way his mouth’s open in a silent moan, hips jerking a little into you as you suckle.
“I could honestly cum from the view right now,” he admits, relaxing his head back against the sofa, but you have other ideas.
“Wait, what are you doing?” He asks when you stop and begin to straddle him.
“You can’t cum,” you tease. “I want to get some too.”
His face instantly lights up. “Yeah?” He murmurs, watching you fiddle a leg from your shorts, and you nod, hovering over his dick. “Shit, like this?”
“Hm,” you hum, grabbing him by the base quickly. You’re wet already, of course you are, and slowly you push down on him. “Shii-ittt,” you gasp, swallowing him inch by inch.
“Be my guest,” he smirks, grabbing your ass as he pushes you forward, his cock pressing against your walls. “Take me for a ride.”
With a jerk of his hips you squeal, mouth landing on his before you’re moaning, beginning to rock your hips…
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And that’s how it continues for a while. It’s surprisingly easy to fall back into a routine where sex is concerned, and just knowing that it’s so easy with Yoongi makes everything so much better. Sex is like another language for the two of you now, it’s done as easily as fingering you while you watch a movie or jerking him off in the hallway before work. It just seems to happen as easy as that. When you’re bored, he’s there, when you’re joking around, it always leads to something a little more serious, and when you’re arguing it’s always resolved with sex. You feel like a horny teenager again, or a couple of lovers that have just moved in together. It’s like a habit, but a good one, so far…
That is until your bestfriend finds out.
Maybe you both should have been more inconspicuous. It makes sense, because everyone else in the world knows friends with benefits is a bad idea, except for the fools who try it out. It was all fine until you and Yoongi decided to both go clubbing together with your respective friends...
“Who was that?”
You shrug, feeling Yoongi’s presence behind you at the bar, watching the guy you’d had a brief conversion with walk back to his group of friends.
“I don’t know, just some dude.”
“He was kinda ugly,” Yoongi comments.
“Yoongi!” You turn around, but can’t help but laugh, and before you know it he’s dragging you onto the dance floor with him.
Yoongi is hardly the dancing type, at least you haven’t seen him like this before, but he doesn’t leave you alone, hands on your hips as he moves behind you, circling his crotch into your ass. You’re not one to miss an opportunity, taking great pleasure when you feel him begin to grow hard as you tease him.
“Are you horny, Mr. Min?” You ask, your hand creeping behind you to squeeze his dick.
“You’re grinding your ass into my crotch, of course I’m horny,” he whispers in your ear, and you giggle, purposely doing it some more.  
He groans, catching ahold of your hips. “C’mon, let’s get out of here before I do something really gross, like fuck you in a bathroom stall.”
Your belly begins to do somersaults, his vulgar words stirring something up inside you, and it isn’t long before you’re agreeing.
He’s impatient tonight, restless almost, as he tears at your clothes practically a second after you enter the apartment. You just about make it to his bed when he’s entering you, each thrust a little bit rougher than the next, a determined look on his face, as if he’s adamant to pleasure you. He doesn’t need to try this hard, and you try to slow him down, but he pushes his hand between your legs, thumb finding your clit, and then it’s game over.
“Sorry that was so quick,” he apologises afterwards, spread out on his back, chest heaving.
“Hm, don’t be,” you murmur, still a little dazed from your orgasm.  “You still made me cum,” you say with a smile as you turn on your side to face him.
He looks a little pensive in thought, and you frown a little. “You okay?”
He shakes his head, almost as if he’s coming to, noticing you’re staring at him and he slowly smiles, nodding as he moves closer, flipping you over so that he’s spooning you.
“Stay the night?” He asks.
“This is my house too,” you wonder slowly, confused to what he means.
“No, I mean, here with me.”
He chooses his words carefully, almost as if he’s unsure. You’ve never spent the night in the same bed like this, no matter how comfortable you both are with each other now. However, the idea doesn’t seem like a bad one, so you agree…
.
.
Waking up to Yoongi spread eagled on the bed is a change. He had no bad sleeping habits but you’d prefer to have a bit more space while you slept, that was for sure, but it’s kind of nice to wake up next to someone, to feel someone else’s body heat warm you in the night… It takes him an extra half hour to wake up fully, and in the midst of making breakfast for you (his apology,) your phone buzzes, and it’s not good news at all.
Sanah: what the hell was with you and yoongi last night???
Oh shit, you think to yourself.
.
.
“It’s a bad idea.”
“No it’s not,” you insist with a shake of your head.
Sanah had organised an emergency meeting at Starbucks, not the type of place you’d want to discuss your personal life at, but you didn’t have a choice. She was adamant and telling her the full details had made it even worse.
Your name falls from her lips disapprovingly, her stare trying to burn into you it seemed, knock some sense into you. “This kind of stuff never works out because someone always catches feelings.”
You go to shake your head, ready to disagree, but then she’s adding something that makes you gasp.
“—and by someone I mean you.”
“Why me?!”
“Well, no offence to Yoongi, but…I just don’t see him as the…caring type—
“That’s not true,” you interrupted.
Sure, maybe to other people upon first glance he could seem unfazed by a lot of things, but actually, Yoongi was one of the most caring people you knew. After all, you had confided in him regarding all those failed dates you’d had. In fact, maybe he was too caring if he’d agreed to have sex with you on the regular—or maybe you were reaching with that one…
“Okay, maybe wrong word,” she backtracks, “but I can’t see him wanting any more than just sex.”
You frown, whispering a little furiously. “I want just sex too.”
“Do you though?” She asks, looking at you pointedly. “If that was the case you would’ve slept with all those other guys—” you go to cut in but she stops you. “Yeah, okay, maybe you didn’t like their personality or their looks or whatever, but you don’t need to like the guy to bang him, you can just close your eyes if you don’t want to see a bald patch or whatever,” she shrugs, and you’re a little offended—mostly because maybe it’s a little true.
If what you’d been after was just sex, those guys’ you’d dated were perfectly acceptable… So what was it that you did want?
“You obviously want something more, otherwise you wouldn’t keep going back to Yoongi.”
You feel a little sick, hating how a second opinion made so much more sense than yours. Your mind instantly goes back to this morning when you’d woken up next to Yoongi, how nice it had felt, and how you’d realised how much you’d missed such a thing…
Shaking your head, you snap out of your thoughts. “Me and Yoongi are just friends.”
“For now,” Sanah emphasises. “I give it another month before you start feeling things for him.”
That most definitely can’t be correct at all. You’ve known Yoongi for a while now, there would be nothing that could happen to change your mind that he’s anything more than a friend. Even having sex with him… Sure, it feels good, and you’re comfortable, and yeah, sometimes you think wow, why haven’t we done this before now, but that’s just because it’s good… You groan inwardly, like you’ve already said…and now you’re just going around in circles…
Sensing your dilemma, your silence not a good sign, Sanah reaches across the small table to clasp one of your hands.  
“C’mon, you’re already shutting down any chances you have with other guys—that one last night was perfectly alright but no, you ended up going home with Yoongi.”
That’s true, right? The guy at the bar was polite, funny, hell, if you wanted to be shallow, he was good looking too, even if Yoongi called him ugly for no reason…
“Gah, I don’t know,” you groan, dropping your head into your other hand.
Now you’re more confused than anything. What if you do start falling for Yoongi? Or, what if you already have? You had no interest in other people anymore because you knew back at home you had Yoongi. What did that mean? Since when had it become so hard to decipher your emotions?
“Just calm down,” your bestfriend tells you, her tone a little worried, and you look up at her with a pout on your face. Woe is you, and yes, you’re that dramatic.
“Look, how about this?” She suggests, looking excited for a moment, and you perk up. “I know a guy, we work together…”
Oh god, where’s this going, you think to yourself.
“…he’s sweet, you’ll like him.”
Define ‘like’ because you have no clue anymore, not after this conversation.
“I’ll give him your number and get him to message you,” she finishes with a nod, like she’s happy she’s becoming matchmaker extraordinaire.
“I don’t know…” you mumble, pulling a face.
It was probably a bad idea, and you didn’t need any more stress right now. Not when you had to try and work out your feelings towards Yoongi.
“It’ll be good for you,” she insists.
You fricking hope so…
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Four days later you find yourself getting ready for a date. You’re more apprehensive than excited though, nerves filling your body, especially when you find Yoongi sitting in the living room just as you’re about to leave. It’s stupid really, to feel like this, you and Yoongi are only having sex. Well, were having sex. You haven’t since the night at the club. You know you shouldn’t take Sanah’s words seriously, after all she’s just mostly worried for you, but after your talk you just can’t seem to shake away the looming doubt hanging over your head. There’s no way you could be falling for Yoongi, it’s impossible, laughable…you think… You’re tired of thinking too much, which is why you should be thankful for this date… Only you didn’t imagine having to let Yoongi know like this…
He looks up from his phone as you walk past the sofa, eyes widening when he notices you in a dress and not your usual pyjamas that grace your body on a Thursday night. Your heart flutters for a second as you look at him, his beanie on indoors for no reason at all, blonde fringe parted against his forehead. It’s moments like these you remember how good looking he actually is. Since sleeping with him repeatedly the realisations keep happening more frequently. You wonder if he feels the same towards you—nope, on second thoughts, bad idea, you shouldn’t be wondering that at all. This is probably exactly what Sanah meant…
“Where you going?” He asks, and you wince a little, unsure why you’re so nervous to say such two little words.
“A date?” He repeats, once you finally pluck up the courage.  “Why?”
That’s something you weren’t expecting. He looks puzzled, his brows furrowed together.
“What do you mean why?” You giggle awkwardly, fidgeting with the skirt of your dress.
“Well, our…arrangement,” he says slowly, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “I just thought…nevermind,” he shakes his head, looking back at his phone and mumbling, “enjoy your date.”
You leave the apartment wondering if that could’ve gone better or worse…
.
.
You arrive back at the apartment a little more chirpier, a little more lighter. Sanah was right, Jungwoo is sweet, and funny, a little dorky, but you like that. He’s handsome too, tall and dresses smart, and you wonder why couldn’t Sanah have set you up a month or two back…because despite all that, Yoongi still played in the back of your mind throughout the entire dinner. His face kept popping into your mind, thoughts creeping in, wondering if he was mad at you…even though he shouldn’t be, right? You hadn’t done anything wrong, he probably didn’t even care you’d gone out with another guy. You were the one overthinking things once again…
Surprisingly, Yoongi’s still in the living room when you let yourself in, only now he’s watching the TV, looking up at the door when he hears your key.
“Hey,” you greet him, “you still up?”
He ignores your question to ask one of his own. “How was your date?”  
You watch as he stands up from the sofa, yawning and stretching his arms behind his head, but before you can reply, he’s talking again.
“Was he normal?”
You chuckle a little, amused by his stupid question, even though you guess he’s using your own words against you…
“Yeah, he was normal,” you nod. “It was nice.”
“That’s good then.” Yoongi’s stare is little more intense than you’d like, as if he’s judging you, and when he speaks he doesn’t sound happy for you at all, despite what he’s saying.
“Mmm hm,” you hum, feeling a little awkward. It’s like he wants to say more but he isn’t, and you’re too confused and chicken to ask him what his problem is, so you take a step forward, wanting your bedroom. “Okay, I’m going to change, I may actually go to bed…” you trail off, waiting for him to say something. He doesn’t, so you begin moving, calling goodnight over your shoulder.
You’re in the middle of pulling the zipper down on your dress when he appears in your doorway.
“So, will you be seeing him again? Another date on the horizon?”
You pause, trying to read the situation. Is that jealousy you read in his tone? Why’s he acting like this, but also, why do you feel a spark of excitement rush through your body? You’ve never seen him like this, for obvious reasons, and you hate that it’s having such an effect on you.
“I don’t know, maybe,” you shrug, stretching one last time to break free the zip all the way, and you turn your back to him, revealing the expanse of your back as you push the dress around your shoulders. “Why the sudden questions?”
“Was just wondering what would happen to our arrangement, that’s all,” you hear him say matter of factly.
You’re surprised he’s so outright, glad your back is turned to him so he can’t see your expression. Delaying your reply you shimmy out of your dress.
“Well, me and this guy aren’t about to get married or anything so I think we’re okay for now.”
You only speak when the garment is pooled at your feet. There’s a silence, and you turn around slowly, noticing immediately how Yoongi’s gaze casts over your body, jaw taunt, as if he’s holding his breath. He’s checking you out so blatantly, but it’s as if he’s on edge, a fire burning in his eyes, and suddenly you want him. You’re done teasing, because that’s exactly what you were doing, even if you would never admit it.
“Are you just going to stand there or?” You smirk, cocking an eyebrow.
He’s in front of you in four long strides, a man on a mission it seems, no need to ask him twice. He grips your hips, mouth on yours roughly before he’s pawing at your body. It feels so long since you’ve kissed him, but in reality it’s only been a few days. It’s almost surprising how well he knows your body by now, and you make a mental note to tally how many times you’ve had sex since the agreement was formed. But maybe that’s a bad idea, you’re already acting strange, sure that he’s jealous right now and loving it.
He pulls away from you with a chuckle, and you clasp one hand around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. He’s pulled his beanie off since you went on your date, and his fringe lies flat to his forehead. You take your other hand to fluff it up with your fingers, staring into his eyes that twinkle a little with mischief.
“What’s so funny?” You ask curiously.
“Nothing,” he shakes his head with a smirk. “You just went on a date with a guy but you’ve ended up back home, with me.”
He looks like the cat that got the cream, smug as he grins, and you roll your eyes, playfully, stealing another kiss. “I do live here,” you inform him.
“What’s his name?” He asks with another kiss.
“Why do you want to know?” You retort playfully but tell him anyway.
“Did you kiss him?”
Your belly does a little jump, his jealousy having an adverse effect on you, but you can’t seem to shake away how excited it makes you, even more so when you shake your head and notice the mild relief that flashes over his face.
His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the flesh harshly, pushing you into his body. “Did you want to?”
You can feel how hard his dick is already inside his pants, your body heating up a little, just knowing he’s as turned on as you, and you take a deep breath, smirking as you move millimetres from his mouth. “Maybe,” you murmur. “I didn’t really think about it.”
He purses his lips together instantly, eyes studying your face, before he’s suddenly groaning, torso tensing as you grab his cock through his sweats.  
“Will you fuck me now?” You whine, and then he’s kissing you again, as if he can’t help it, low moans leaving him.
With his hands moving to grip your shoulders, he pushes you to the bed, crawling over you as his tongue explores your mouth.
“Mhm, like this,” he grunts, pulling away to flip you over, your knees pressing into the mattress.
He tugs at the lace of your underwear, something he’s rarely seen you in, managing to piss him off even more as he growls, and then he’s circling his crotch into your ass, spanking the flesh lightly with one hand causing you to squeal playfully, your arousal growing between your legs.
“I really want to like this,” he mutters.
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Soon, jealously doesn’t seem so exciting anymore. Well, at least you think it’s jealousy, you can’t even tell a lot of the time. Over the weeks you realise Yoongi’s becoming a little disinterested with you, these days he’s hardly initiating sex with you, and now you’ve grown bored of trying to do the same…
If he was jealous wouldn’t he say something more outright? Or maybe you’re just wrong. Maybe he’s a different kind of jealous, one that includes wanting you all to himself, just for sex, nothing else, and that’s where your confusion lies. Why do you feel so miserable and unwanted now you’re not hooking up together? Even when you continue to date Jungwoo, it’s not the same. He’s a nice guy don’t get you wrong, but after four dates it still hasn’t gotten past kissing, and you’re pretty sure a large part of that is down to you.
There’s something holding you back. Yoongi, and you can’t let yourself think why, because deep down you know, Sanah’s right, you’ve probably fallen for him, or at least have crossed wires somewhere. You forget, so long without sex, that the act is never that simple. Especially if you’re fooling around with your roommate. The only option is to push on through and try to forget the mess that is your thoughts right now…
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On your fifth date with Jungwoo you’re kissing him on the doorstep, toying with the idea of asking him in. It’s petty, because you know Yoongi’s home, you’d seen enough of him before you’d left tonight, and had enough of his passive-aggressive attitude. His actions aren’t making any sense, and you want to piss him off purposely, but you know you’re not that petty—or at least, you shouldn’t be that petty.
Yoongi on the other hand…
“What’s going on?” Jungwoo chuckles, looking a little confused as the porch light repeatedly switches on and off above your heads.
At first you’d both tried to ignore it, but it was getting harder now, and you knew exactly who was responsible.
“Ugh,” you groan lightly to yourself before forcing a grin on your face. “Faulty light maybe.”
Jungwoo frowns to himself, “sounds like someone’s clicking it on and off…”
With that the light turns off completely, surrounding you both in semi-darkness, just the glow from the streetlights illuminating your faces.
“I should probably go inside anyway,” you sigh, unable to hide the anger from your voice, and as if Jungwoo senses something he nods, agreeing with you. “Thanks, Jungwoo, tonight was really nice.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed,” he smiles. “I’ll message you tomorrow, okay?”
Once again you’re left wishing things were simple. Wishing you could forget about Yoongi, and just try to have fun with Jungwoo. But, that wasn’t going to happen until you’ve sorted things out once and for all.
.
.
However, maybe you shouldn’t try sorting things out when you’re this mad, the anger seeping through your body, unable to control it.
“What the fuck was that?” You half-shout as you slam the front door behind you, spotting Yoongi sat on the sofa, ‘watching’ the TV.
“What?” He asks, playing dumb.
“You!” You yell, throwing your purse to the floor in frustration. “Flicking the light on and off!”
“I have no idea what you mean,” he shrugs, standing up. “Maybe it’s faulty or something,” but you’re not blind, you can see the slight smirk on his face.
“Pull the other one, Yoongi!” You bite. “What the fuck is your problem?”
You need to have it out with one another, right now. No beating around the bush, just being straight up and honest, because he obviously does have a problem and it’s frustrating you, confusing you.
He frowns. “Me? I don’t have one.”
You scoff immediately, ready to explode. Why is he being like this? So closed off, so hard to talk to. He’s never acted like this before.
“You do though,” he shoots back, and you pull a face, taken back. “Why haven’t you brought Jungwoo inside for me to meet him?”
You stare at him, unable to believe he’s being so childish right now.
“Or would it be too awkward, don’t want to introduce him to the guy you’re fucking?”
Yoongi’s words repeat inside your head like a broken record, and suddenly everything makes sense. How stupid you’ve been, you’re an idiot.
“I knew this would happen,” you whisper, before raising your voice again. “Why are you such a dickhead?”
“Me?” He scoffs, laughing bitterly.
“Yes, you,” you snap. “Is this some kind of ego thing, huh?”
It has to be.
“You don’t want anyone else to have me? So you’re ruining things?” You demand.
He never liked you, he’ll never like you, and now you’ve probably fallen for him, just like Sanah said you would, messing up everything in the process.
Catching you off guard, Yoongi closes his eyes, hanging his head for a moment as silence falls around you both. When he finally looks up, he stares you down, sneering as he speaks.
“You really have no clue, do you?”
And then he’s storming off to his bedroom, you hear the door slam behind him, the loud bang ringing in your ears. You’re confused for a moment, maybe even feeling a little guilty, but that doesn’t last long. He doesn’t have the right to do this, manipulate you like this. It’s all on him, he’s the one with the problem, the one who’s almost led you on, and for what? To keep his ego in touch?
“What don’t I have a clue about?”
You can’t help yourself, you’re storming into his room before you can stop, too past it to care that you’re yelling.
You find him sitting in his desk chair, head in his hands. He groans when he hears you, sighing your name quietly, as if he’s exhausted. “Just go away, I can’t do this right now.”
You’re a little taken back by his demeanour, but stand your ground, needing answers. It was now or never.
“I’m not going anyway until you tell me what the hell your problem is,” you hiss.
He scoffs, lifting his head up to look at you.  “My problem? Do you really want to know?”
You nod quickly, jaw clenched.
“My problem is you.”
What? Nothing can prepare you for that answer, and you reel back, feeling hurt and upset. “So why have you been sleeping with me then?” You whisper, unable to look him in the eyes long enough.
“Oh my god,” he groans neck falling back in frustration. “I like you!” He exclaims suddenly, loudly too, making you jump.
You listen in confusion, nothing making sense. He has to be playing with you.
“This whole time I’ve fucking liked you, well, more fool me,” he half-shouts, making you jump. “I’m just sat at home waiting like a fucking loser while you go on dates with some ‘perfect’ guy.”
Shit. This can’t be happening. You were sure that wasn’t the case. You were sure he was just jealous because he wanted you all to himself, but not like this… It was you. You were the one who’d been hurting someone, not the other way around, and you’d carried on seeing Jungwoo, oblivious to Yoongi’s feelings.
No. Yoongi couldn’t like you. You would’ve known… You would’ve—
“See?” He yells, interrupting your thoughts. “You don’t even have anything to say! I’ve told you my problem—you’re my problem! I was hoping I was making it painstakingly obvious I like you, but you really don’t care, do you? Either that or you’re a dumb bitch—
“A dumb bitch?” You interrupt, eyes flashing with anger.
“Fuck, I didn’t mean that,” he panics instantly, realising what he’s said and he goes to stand up, hands out. “Wait—I’m sorry, shit—
“Well fuck you Min Yoongi,” you snap, “that’s not how you talk to someone you supposedly like.”
He’s lying. He’s trying to make you feel guilty for whatever reason. If he truly liked you why would he want to hurt you like that? Say such a mean thing? You’re the one who likes him, because this hurts too much, hearing him say such venomous words.
“Don’t be like this, wait—
“I’m leaving,” you rush, taking a step backwards. You don’t want to be around him anymore.
“To where?” He asks.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, and in that moment you want to hurt him, just like he’s hurt you. “Maybe I can drive to Jungwoo’s—
“Well that’s just great, so fucking romantic,” he erupts suddenly, Jungwoo’s name setting him off. “I’m so glad I could help you run into the arms of another man!”
You’re so mad your chest’s heaving uncontrollably, and you sneer, rushing out of his room quickly, yelling a childish bye over your shoulder. That’s when you hear him kick something that sounds suspiciously like his chair, curse words spilling from his mouth.
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You didn’t end up at Jungwoo’s. You toyed with the idea, out of pettiness and anger. Imagined arriving at his and having sex with him, just to spite Yoongi, but the truth was you couldn’t do it. If you did, you’d regret it forever. You were mad at him, yes, but you were also worried to ruin things, well, ruin them more than they already were.
You spent the night in your car, not getting a wink of sleep, but at least you had valuable time to think things through, to see how maybe you’d overreacted a little too much. The truth was, you were mad at Yoongi for keeping his feelings for you a secret for so long. You were mad at him for agreeing to this arrangement—no, proposing the stupid roommates with benefits idea if he liked you. Why would he do that? Why couldn’t he just confess like a normal person? You were mad because of all the confusion, but most of all you were mad at yourself. You were mad at yourself for not just asking him why he was acting so weird once you started seeing Jungwoo. You were mad at yourself for goading him that first time, knowing he was jealous. You were mad at yourself for enjoying it, when deep down it was probably ruining Yoongi.
You were mad at both of you. You were mad at Sanah too, and she’d heard all about it the next day, when you’d arrived at her home fresh from breaking things off with Jungwoo—the only person innocent in all of this. Sanah apologised of course, said her judgement was always iffy and that you shouldn’t have listened to her, (you mean, is that even an apology?) but what’s done is done. You accepted that you’d messed up all on your own, it’s not like she made you go on a date with Jungwoo holding a gun to your head…
You and Yoongi don’t speak for two weeks. It’s awkward, really awkward. You can’t tell if he’s still mad at you, or if he thinks you’re still mad at him, and you’re too nervous to ask, so that’s how things stay. It’s fine when you both have work, but in the evenings it’s a game of avoiding one another, most of the time Yoongi decides to stay in his room. On the weekends it’s a little more difficult, and tonight you’ve chosen to stay out until pretty late, Sanah attempting to buy your apology with snacks and cocktails at the bar… It’s 1am when you creep through the front door, praying to god Yoongi’s already asleep, or at the most, hiding in his room.
The stars aren’t that kind though…
“Oh my god,” you gasp when you turn the overhead light on just to see Yoongi kissing a girl on the sofa. “Shit, fuck,” you mutter under your breath, eyes wide in shock, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in your chest.
The light interrupts them obviously, as do you standing in the middle of the room, and Yoongi looks up, looking confused for a second, to see you standing there. He’s drunk. You can tell by the way his gaze is unfocused, cheeks rosy, and if that wasn’t enough to tell you, he stumbles as he crawls off the sofa, slurring your name.  
“I’m sorry,” he apologises for absolutely no reason, walking towards you, the girl spread out on the sofa sitting up and tidying her hair.
“Yoongi,” you reach for him. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Sorry,” the girls apologies too, standing up now. “You’re not his girlfriend, are you?”
You scoff and shake your head, that question hurting you more than you thought it would. “I’m his roommate,” you explain.
She looks relieved instantly, shoving her heels on. “I think I should go home,” she tells you. “He’s had a lot to drink,” she adds, side-eyeing him. “Er, bye Yoongi, bye,” she nods at you, before letting herself out.
You’re left standing there, holding onto Yoongi’s arm, the image of finding him and the girl still fresh in your mind, and you feel a little sick.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t get what happened,” he tries to tell you, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t owe you anything. “I just wanted to get drunk and forget about this mess,” he mumbles.
The stabbing sensation in your chest is back, your emotions out of control. Does he mean forget about you…?
“It’s okay, let’s just get you to bed,” you murmur.
He listens, and you help him to his room, getting him a glass of water once you’ve sat him down, just to make him drink it. As an afterthought you grab his trash can too, just in case he needs to chuck up in the middle of the night. You turn of his lamp, turning to leave, but he grabs your wrist.
“Stay with me,” he asks.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you pull a face.
“Please,” he begs quietly, and of course you give in.
“Fine, but just until you get to sleep,” you say, rounding his bed to lie down on the other side.
He settles down beside you, lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You copy him, feeling a little awkward, but it does feel nice to be beside him again. It’s been a long two weeks, and this isn’t something you imagined doing for some time, if ever.
“I’m sorry for calling you a dumb bitch, I didn’t mean it,” he says into the darkness.
“It’s okay,” you whisper.
Truth is you’re not even hurt by it anymore. Things are said in the heat of the moment, you get it. You’ve hurt him too.
“No, it’s really not,” he insists, turning to face you. He’s drowsy, you can tell so by the way his words blur together. “—and I’m sorry for inviting that girl back and I’m sorry that you caught us, even if you don’t like me the way I like you, I’m sorry,” he continues, hurting your heart a little. “I’m also sorry that I acted like a jealous idiot and that I made you feel maybe guilty.”
He’s speaking so simply, it flows from him, as if he’s been thinking about it nonstop. It’s cute, you think to yourself, your chest blooming.
“...and I’m sorry that you have to see me like this, and hear me…”
“Yoongi?” You call, and he hums, eyes trying to focus on your face. “Shut up,” you tell him gently, trying to hold in a giggle. “Just go to sleep and we can talk about it in the morning.”
“Okay,” he agrees simply, closing his eyes immediately.
“No, like this,” you chuckle, using your arm to flip him on his side, the recovery position always a good bet. “Just in case,” you whisper, going to pull your hand back.
“Can you keep your arm around me?” He asks, his fingers clutching your own, and you pause, watching him for a moment. His eyes are still closed, as if he’s adamant to obey you, and you nod to yourself, settling beside him again.
“Sure,” you smile, curling your body to his, and without thinking too much you end up falling asleep, just like a baby, having missed everything about him. It’s simple to be relaxed in his company, even if he is rolling drunk and stinks.
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“Morning, sleepyhead,” you greet him the next morning as he groans. You’d already woken up half an hour previous, showering and brushing your teeth, because no one likes sleeping in their clothes from the night before.
Now you’re stood over him with another glass of water, two aspirins in your palm.
“How’s the hangover?” You ask, watching him wince as he finally opens his eyes, groaning again as he clutches his forehead.
“I feel like I have a hundred of those little orange men stampeding against my brain right now,” he finally speaks, voice hoarse.
“Little orange men?” You repeat, worried he’s delirious.
“Y’know,” he whines, “what do you call them? Oompa Loompas!” He exclaims, finally remembering, but regretting the loudness instantly.
“You’re such a weirdo,” you chuckle, forgetting any awkwardness from the past two weeks. “Here, take these,” you order, pushing the pills towards him.
He swallows them silently, leaning his back against the headboard when he’s done. “Shit,” he utters, staring ahead. “All of last night is coming back to me in broken memories.”
You awkwardly stay silent, unsure of what to say back, so instead you sit on the edge of his bed gingerly, waiting for him to continue, if he will.
“That fucking girl,” he mutters, dropping his head into his hands.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” you apologise awkwardly, looking down at your lap. “I interrupted you both.”
“Thank god,” he chuckles. “I would’ve regretted it forever.”
“You would?” You frown, looking up again, just to see him give you a lopsided smile.
“I’m kinda hung up on someone else…”
You can feel yourself blushing, but unable to break eye contact. He does first. “Look, er,” he begins awkwardly, picking at his t-shirt. “I’m sorry for calling you, y’know…”
“A dumb bitch?” You finish for him, but more amused than anything. It’s funny how sober, he’s like ten times more awkward.
“Ah, yeah, that,” he says slowly.
“You already apologised last night, don’t worry about it,” you laugh.
“I did?” He asks, looking surprised.  “I’m sorry, that part can’t have come back to me yet.”
“You apologised quite a lot last night,” you inform him.
“God,” he groans, looking embarrassed. “Well, depending on what I actually said, I meant all of it—unless it was bad, and then I meant done of it.”
You laugh again, feeling more comfortable, and sit back, hugging your legs to your body. Silence washes over you both for a moment, but it’s fine now, it’s not awkward.
“How did we get ourselves into this mess?” You finally ask, thinking back to the past few weeks, and how things would’ve been much simpler if you’d just been truthful with one another from the beginning.
“I’m probably to blame,” he admits, leaning forward to be closer to you.  “I should’ve never asked you to, y’know…”
“Yoongi, we both agreed to this like adults, I wanted to as well,” you tell him, because it’s the truth. It wasn’t like he had been concocting some mastermind plan all this time.
“Yeah, but my intentions were different…” he winces, looking apologetic, and he reaches for your hand, holding it loosely. “I’m sorry if I fucked things up with you and Jungwoo. I promise I’ll work on my own shit in silence.” He insists, gaze determined. “It might be awkward for a while but I won’t let you deal with it, it’s all on me…and if I can’t deal, I’ll just move out or something.”
“Don’t do that,” you say, hating the thought. “I ended things with Jungwoo,” you finally tell him, because you’ve been wanting to for days now. “Well, if they’d even started to begin with.”
Yoongi looks a little shocked, and you can tell he’s holding his breath, waiting for you to continue.
“I began dating him because I was trying to distract myself. I thought it was the best thing to do, find someone who could potentially like me…back…” you explain slowly, feeling weird now this was all coming out. You’d thought about this moment constantly since your argument.
“—but then I had to like him first, and while yeah, he was sweet, and cute and kinda perfect,” you chuckle with a wrinkle of your nose before carrying on. “He wasn’t you.”
“Wait,” is all he says, looking perplexed, and you’re too impatient to wait until he finally gets it.
“I like you back, you dumb bitch,” you exclaim, whacking his arm gently.
He gasps, mouth open. “Did you just call me a dumb bitch?”
“Well—
“Wait, my mistake, that doesn’t matter right now,” he interrupts almost immediately. “You like me?”
It’s like he needs to make sure, and you nod quickly, a small “mm hm,” leaving your mouth. “I don’t know how, or when—well actually, I do know when, it was probably when you stuck your dick in me that first time…”
He scoffs in amusement at your crude choice of explanation, shoulders relaxing with every other word that comes from you.
“These feelings have been building, and I tried to run away from them because I didn’t think you would ever like me back that way…”
“I already did though,” he says simply.
“I know that now,” you smile coyly, gaze lingering on his.
“So? Where does this leave everything…?” He asks carefully, and you shuffle up the bed, plonking yourself next to him, shoulders rubbing up against one another.
“Well, I was thinking maybe we could try something a little more serious…?” You suggest, excitement bubbling up at the future possibilities between you both.
“Yeah,” Yoongi grins, nodding his head, “I’d like that a lot.”
You lean forward, kissing his temple because you can’t control yourself, but when he tries to reach for your lips with his, you avoid him playfully.
“I like you, but not enough yet to kiss you on the mouth after you’ve just woken up,” you giggle.
“But I like you enough,” he whines, trying to reach for your waist, and you squeal as he pulls you to him, trying to hide your head in his t-shirt.
“Of course you would say that, you’re the one with the morning breath,” you tease, feeling his mouth on your hair as he places kisses on your head, the only place he can reach.
“Fine,” he gives in finally, letting you go, and you watch as he jumps out of bed. “I’ll brush my teeth then.”
“Oh, has your hangover miraculously been cured?” You ask, surprised.
“That’s what a forehead kiss from a beautiful lady will do to a man,” he brags, stretching his arms over his head.
“Ew, please shut the fuck up,” you pull a face, grabbing one of his pillows to throw it at him. It bounces off his ass as he walks away, laughing all the way to the bathroom.
The sound is like music to your ears, and you lie back against his headboard, a grin on your face, your heart beating happily in your chest.
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bangtanprincesss · 3 years ago
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piercings |poly bts|
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pairing: bts x reader (poly)
words: 2.5k
genre: pure soft fluff, suggestive themes, dick piercings, author’s excessively soft feelings for baby boy jungkook
summary: you and the boys had been stuck in the house for a few weeks, and decided to do something a little... spontaneous. 
if anyone would like a sequel to this, with some wink wink nudge nudge with the new piercings, please like/reblog and lemme know!! set in the same universe as my other poly fic: home
→ masterlist → commissions & donations
“are you sure about this?” you eyed taehyung from the corner of your eye as he pointed his finger to the screen enthusiastically. 
nodding frantically, taehyung yelled out, “hyungs! come here!”
taehyung’s voice carried across the large house with a sense of urgency that the rest of the boys maybe took a little too seriously; six sets of feet frantically running through the hallway to try and reach the living room.
“what? what’s going on?” namjoon was the first to arrive, eyes searching the room for anything out of the ordinary. 
a small laugh bubbled in your throat, “babe don’t worry, tae’s just excited.” taehyung’s bouncing legs which bumped against yours every so often proved your point.
“hyung, come look,” taehyung pointed to the screen and namjoon walked over with squinted eyes, taking in the contents of the page. 
“piercings?” a soft voice said from behind you, jungkook’s soft hair appearing next to you, prompting you to lean over and kiss his cheek making his skin turn a light shade of pink. 
“i want a dick piercing,” a choking sound escaped your throat as you looked up, wide eyed, at yoongi who was staring blankly at the screen. 
“what?”
“you heard me,” yoongi shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, “i’ve wanted one for awhile.”
the incredulous look on your face made the rest of your boys break out into laughter, “i think you broke her,” jin chuckled and nudged yoongi who shrugged. 
taehyung pulled the laptop entirely onto his lap and scrolled down the page a little, “yep they do those here. i might get one as well,” he said with a smirk.
“jesus fuck,” you swore and dragged your hands down your face, “you guys will be the death of me.” 
arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you into a soft lap, one you immediately recognized as hoseok. “you’re not gonna pierce your dick right, hobi?” you asked with wide eyes. 
shaking his head hoseok pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “not my cup of tea, i was thinking nipples.” 
“THAT’S NOT ANY BETTER!”
the room erupted in laughter again and you couldn’t help the smile that spread over your face. taking a deep breath you looked up at the rest of the boys, “anyone else getting anything crazy?” 
“i think baby boy should get his nipples pierced as well,” jimin teased wrapped his arm around jungkook’s shoulders. 
kook’s cheeks turned a deep red as he tried to sputter out a retort, “jimin! n-no!” he wrapped his arms around his torso and tried to avoid direct eye contact with everyone around him. 
“baby, i think that’s a great idea. we all know how sensitive you are,” tae said with a sing-songy tone.
“you all are insane,” you huffed and grabbed the computer from tae’s grip, “i’m just gonna get a double helix.” 
the room filled with sounds of disappointment at your words, “but babeeee,” hoseok wined and looked at you with puppy eyes.
shaking your head you pressed your forehead against his, “i think we’ll have enough fun with all the other boys’ piercings, don’t you think?” the sultry tone of your voice had an immediate effect on hoseok, his eyes closing slightly and his hips moving forward against yours, “damn right we will.”
“no sex until after the piercings yeah?” namjoon tried to reason, trying to hide his own arousal. 
“you won’t be able to use your dicks for months, hyung.” jimin giggled, bringing his hand to cover his mouth, cute, you thought.
“might as well get one good one in yeah?” no one could argue with that.
an hour or so later you and the boys were dressed in baggy clothing as you walked inside the tattoo parlor where you were getting your piercings done. 
“the dude is gonna be like, ‘what the fuck?’ when he sees those hickeys,” taehyung said while poking a hickey had a left on your neck.
“you’re the one who left it, dumbass.” you swatted his hand away and walked up to the front desk, “hello! the seven dwarfs and i are here to get some piercings.” you ignored the shouts of hey! coming from behind you and smiled at the lady at the front desk.
the receptionist had a huge smile on her face, “sure thing sweets, all seven of you?” you nodded and proceeded to have you and the boys fill out the rest of the paperwork she had given you.
“who’s first?” the lady asked stepping out from behind the counter, “xiao is busy in the back, so i’ll be doing your piercings today.” she pulled a glove over her hands after pulling out all the necessary bagged needles and disinfectant. 
you turned around to find the boys already deep into a game of rock paper scissors, “dumbasses,” you rolled your eyes, “i’ll go first.” 
nodding, the woman lightly patted the chair to which you sat down, a sheen of sweat starting to form on your brow from the sudden onset of anxiety you felt. she cleaned the area of your ear before pulling out a brand new needle, “b-boys!” you said a little louder than intended and they were at your side in a second.
yoongi grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “it’ll be over before you know it. it’s quick baby.” another pair of hands passed through your hair as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.
“1... 2...” before saying three the lady had pressed the needle through your ear, pushing a tiny mewl from your throat. the process repeated again and your second helix was done. 
“fuck,” you swore when you got out of the seat, “which one of you assholes is next.” 
“me,” yoongi raised his hand, “i’ll go.”
“alright,” the woman said throwing away the supplies and grabbing the new stuff for yoongi’s piercing, “we’ll have to lie you down for this one. do you want your friends here?” she asked with a small smirk.
“nothing they haven’t seen before,” yoongi drawled while taking off his bottoms and getting comfortable on the couch. cleaning the area, the lady pulled out the needle again. 
“just go for it,” yoongi said, to which she did, immediately pushing the needle through the skin of his cock, a strangled hiss leaving his lips. 
you moved forward and smoothed the hair out of his face and kissed his nose, “all done babe.” involuntary tears left yoongi’s cheeks and you immediately wiped them away, “it’s all done.” the lady told yoongi to sit there for a few minutes before moving again. 
after that taehyung got his piercings, jin, jimin and namjoon had gotten more ear piercings and hoseok had gotten his nipples done, now it was time for the baby maknae to go. 
“i d-don’t know it i...” jungkook trailed off while wringing his fingers, looking incredibly nervous. 
a frown tugged at your lips as the anxiety radiated off of jungkook in waves. 
“oh baby,” you frowned and pulled him into a hug and whispered into his ear, “if you really don’t wanna do it baby you know your hyungs and i will never make you do it. but if you do, it’s quick baby i promise.” 
jungkook let out a sigh and nodded, “i’ll do it.” 
“such a good boy, kookie,” jin praised, “hyungs are so proud of you.” jungkook’s cheeks turned red for what seemed like the tenth time that day as he took a seat on the chair. 
“will you hold my hand?” jungkook asked in a low voice while grabbing the hem of your shirt with his fist. 
“of course i will, bunny,” you tangled your fingers together and beckoned hoseok forward, “hold his other hand.” hoseok smiled down at jungkook and took his hand in his, running his thumb over the younger’s knuckles. 
the lady once again went through cleaning procedure and brought the needle close to jungkook’s chest, “one... two...” and pushed the needle through, similar to what she had done to me. 
a yelp was heard throughout the room and jungkook’s face contorted into one of pain, unable to hold back his tears as a tiny sob left his mouth. 
“oh baby,” you cooed and kissed every inch of his skin as the worker finished her job. 
you keep your hand intertwined with jungkook’s as everything was finished and namjoon paid the bill. 
“can we get ice cream?” taehyung asked excitedly as the eight of you walked past an ice cream parlor on the way back to the house, “pleaseeee,” he begged. 
you know there was no point in trying to convince tae otherwise, so without a word you turned your course to the parlor across the street.
you walked up to the front window, immediately rattling off the boys’ practiced ice cream orders, we get ice cream too much, you thought in your head with a chuckle. 
jimin found a nice shaded area next to the parlor where the eight of you could sit and enjoy your frosted treat. some of the boys immediately flopping to the ground while yoongi and taehyung looked at you both with incredulous eyes.
“if you think i’m about to bend down to the fucking dirty ass ground after what i just had done, you’ve got another thing coming.” yoongi said while shoveling ice cream into his mouth. 
after what seemed like an hour or two later, you all were finally settled down in the living room, ice packs making their rounds through the room. 
“anyone need anything?” you asked as you stood up to go to the kitchen to grab some drinks. 
“a new dick,” taehyung groaned and hissed when he accidentally moved his leg a little too quickly. 
“but i like your dick,” jimin stated matter of factly, shrugging when jin slapped his shoulder at his dirty words, “yours isn’t that bad either, hyung.”
“yah!”
you shook your head, grabbing a drink for everyone and headed back into the living room. 
“come here,” namjoon said while grabbing your hips, making you plop down onto his lap.
“joonie!” you yelped while dropping two of the soda cans in your hand. namjoon merely shrugged and cuddled into your back, rubbing your waist softly with his thumbs. 
a hiss could be heard from behind you, “fuck gimme that.” yoongi practically tore the can from your hand and pressed it to the front of his pants.
your mouth dropped open in disgust, “yoongi! that was to drink! no one wants your dick all over their drink!” 
“well it’s mine now,” he settled back against the couch, finally feeling some relief from the burning of the piercing. 
unwrapping namjoon’s hands from your waist, you reached towards jin, “jinnie, come here, you’re the only normal one in this relationship.” 
jin chuckled and placed you in-between him and namjoon, to which you all resumed to watch the movie on the tv. 
without realizing, the noises from the tv and the slight bickering from around you lulled you to sleep, comfortable in the presence of your boys.  
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rmverse · 2 years ago
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Upgrade || myg
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⇢ pairing: yoongi x reader (slight taehyung x reader) ⇢ genre: smut literally just smut ⇢ word count: 4.1k ⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, spitting if ur not into that, choking, rough sex ⇢ summary: Your longtime fuckbuddy, Kim Taehyung, has always been the best you’ve ever had. You two always relied on each other when you were looking for some fun. However, one night with Min Yoongi was enough to ruin you for absolutely anyone else, including your (previously) reliable, designated fuckbuddy. A/N: kim taehyung i am SO sorry
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You know, you never would’ve thought sex with Kim Taehyung would actually become, dare you say it, stale to you. How could anyone find sex with this man unenjoyable? Handsome and tall with a lot packed down there. He was packing down there, and the first time you slept with him, you were actually scared it wouldn’t fit. He was adventurous, he was a giver, and he could last a decent amount of time.
He’s been your reliable fuckbuddy for the longest time now. Every once in a while, you both found yourselves partner-less, bored, looking for sex but not looking forward to having a one night stand and have it be very mediocre. Single and free, you both agreed that you were down to fuck whenever you both felt like it, and it worked great for the longest time. The sex was great, sometimes amazing even. On more than one occasion did Taehyung have you shaking after several orgasms during your nights together, and you definitely never failed to give the same treatment back.
It was strictly casual though. No feelings were involved whatsoever. This wasn’t some movie plot that had one of the two falling for the other; no, you two weren’t that stupid. So yes, you were both aware that you two slept around and explored whenever you felt like it because nothing was actually tying you down.
And to make it even clearer, you never mentioned a certain rule that forbade you from sleeping with each other’s friends…
Oh god, you knew it was wrong. It wasn’t too far on the wrong side though because you weren’t even dating. You agreed this was very casual and you could sleep with anyone you wanted, right? However, the inklings of guilt started to build when that one hookup happened and, for a lack of better words, ruined you for anyone else, even Taehyung. It was slightly frustrating to you how no one had managed to top Taehyung’s performance in bed for years now, not even some of the best guys you’ve dated, always opting to sleep with Taehyung and spend the night with someone who knew how your body worked rather than sleep with some random stranger who was only looking for his pleasure.
Min Yoongi. Min Yoongi claimed you and it was scaring you more than it should have. It scared you partly because for the first time ever, your designated fuckbuddy didn’t manage to get you off the other night, and partly because he was said fuckbuddy’s close friend. You dug yourself into a hole and you weren’t sure if you could get out of it. You kept telling yourself you were just having an off night and that maybe you weren’t feeling too well. It couldn’t have been neither Taehyung nor Yoongi’s fault. You were just overthinking it and Yoongi was just another one night stand that you would soon forget about.
However, that proved wrong tonight when Taehyung was on his knees between your spread thighs, giving you what you used to think was the best oral you’ve ever received, up until recently that is. He was doing the usual, fast and sloppy, wiggling his tongue and pushing deeper into you. On usual nights, you would’ve been fighting your screams back by now, pushing his head harder against you and losing your breath, but tonight seemed like another replay of the previous one. Overanalyzing everything. Thinking. Comparing. It was wrong but you couldn’t help it.
You couldn’t help but remember the way Yoongi had used his mouth on you. What Taehyung was giving you now seemed barely average; it felt rushed, messy, sloppy (and not in a good way). It seemed unpracticed and stale in comparison to what you were craving to experience. The slow but steady build that Yoongi gave you. He was an expert with his mouth and tongue, the age difference between the two very clearly apparent in this aspect. Yoongi gauged your every move and reaction, studied your body carefully for every sound you would make, committed everything to memory, and used that information to pull more reactions right of you. He had you falling apart from just his mouth, something no one had ever managed to do before, and the thought of that alone turned you on more than anything—
“You okay?”
You’re pulled back to current reality when Taehyung pulls his mouth off, opting for rubbing your clit instead as he stares up at you with questioning eyes. Shit. You couldn’t fuck him, not tonight. You’re sure you weren’t gonna cum and you don’t think your muddled brain can manage to conjure up the focus to fake an orgasm that convinces Taehyung he was, in fact, making you see stars. God, how you wished those days would be back.
“Yeah,” you breathe out, pulling your hips back from him and sitting up. He sits up as well, confused with why you were pulling away when you push him back against the mattress and settle yourself on your knees between his spread thighs. You smirk up at him and grip his more than hard cock, swiftly licking the head as he rests back on his palms, watching you with glazed eyes. “Just wanna suck you off.”
You manage to get yourself off the hook this night, sucking him and letting him cum in your mouth before telling him that you were gonna head home for the night because you had an early class tomorrow. He protested, reminding you that you hadn’t cum, but you faked a yawn and told him that you were tired already and that it was fine. And you drove home, dissatisfied and frustrated once again.
+
This was the sixth or seventh orgasm you’ve had to fake with Taehyung and your patience was running thin. You thought he’d know you like the back of his hand after several years of sleeping together, and that he’d at least be able to tell when you were faking it and trying to mimic the pornstars in all of their exaggerated glory. Clearly, you couldn’t have been more wrong because Taehyung was having the time of your life while you were just waiting for this to be over so you can go home and get yourself off for the nth time in the past month.
The whole situation frustrated you because the sole purpose of having a fuckbuddy was the fact that the sex was supposed to be good for both of you. However, this thing you had with Taehyung was unfortunately morphing into your previous relationships and one night stands with guys that couldn’t seem to give you an orgasm for the life of them.
And it was all Min Yoongi’s fault.
You thought size did give an advantage, especially in Taehyung’s case, but your views have long changed because Yoongi was definitely smaller than Taehyung but his cock managed to bring you to highs you’ve never experienced before. He knew how to work his cock, reaching places inside that Taehyung had somehow missed, moving his hips and angling your own in ways that had your eyes tearing up at how heavenly it all felt.
You’ve finally reached your end. You couldn’t take faking another orgasm. You couldn’t keep lying to Taehyung like this because even though your relationship was mostly physical, you still consider him a friend. You didn’t know what you would say to him though. Hey, sorry I can’t fuck you anymore because your friend fucked my brains out a month ago and you can’t get me off because he was way better.
Yeah, that seems about right, but you’re not gonna say that. However, you would figure out what you were gonna say later because at the moment, you were figuring out what you were gonna say now after having knocked at Yoongi’s door without previous announcement.
“Oh god, what am I doing?” You murmur to yourself. “I can’t. He’s his friend, this is gonna be—oh.” You cut yourself off the moment the door swings open to reveal Min Yoongi in all his casual glory.
This is unbelievable to you. Most of your close friends were always gushing to you about Taehyung, how you managed to land someone like him as a casual fuckbuddy because he was incredibly easy on the eyes. It’s not that Yoongi’s not handsome, but he was a stark contrast to Taehyung. Built smaller, face much softer than Taehyung’s sharp features, thinner, always dressed casually and comfortably while Taehyung was constantly adorned in flashy combinations of clothing.
Taehyung – energetic, lively, plays pranks on other, shouts too much for his own good, resembles an actual puppy at certain times.
Yoongi – relaxed, calm and collected, hates pranks, could be perceived as cold at times but that’s only if you don’t know him that well, eyes that resemble feline features.
You supposed it was the slight laziness in his attitude that attracted you to him so much. How mature he seemed at times, so put together in the sexiest way and how that was actually reflected how he was in bed. How he was a bit on the quieter side, focusing solely on you and working your body like an instrument he was well versed with. Manhandling you and maneuvering you how he pleased to give you the most pleasure he could. God, you were fucked.
“__? Hey,” he greets casually, opening the door wider. You haven’t heard his voice in a while. Shivers go down your spine because the last time you heard his deep voice, you remember him telling you to cum on his cock.
“Hi,” you greet back, shifting on your feet and clearing your throat. You’re about to open your mouth and speak, unsure what exactly you were going to say, but he beats you to it.
“Don’t keep standing there, come in.”
He moves back and makes room for you to step in, and you move forward to take off your shoes and you think you’re about to go dizzy at the smell of his cologne that is still very vividly engrained somewhere in your memory.
“Is Taehyung coming?” he asks and you’re glad you’re not facing him as you take a seat on his couch so that he doesn’t see the grimace your face forms into at the mention of his name. The living room is quiet save for the low volume of the TV, and Yoongi reaches for the remote to mute it before he sits next to you, making himself comfortable.
“Oh, erm, no…” you trail off. Fuck, you really haven’t thought this through at all. You have absolutely no idea what you’re gonna say next. How could you come here so impulsively? A month ago, you both had a little bit of liquor in your systems, you were out, atmosphere setting the right mood for you two and allowing everything to fall into place perfectly without any need for you to form the right words.
But now, now things were different.
“Hmm,” he hums, nodding his head. You swallow thickly and clear your throat, as if that’s gonna help get rid of the large lump stuck in your throat.
“I—er, I just wanted to…” Your words trail off once again, and your eyes are much more intrigued by the loose thread coming out of the couch cushion rather than looking up at the man sat comfortable in front of you.
“__,” he says once.
You don’t look up.
“__,” he chuckles this time. The couch dips and he’s shifting closer. “Is this about last time?”
The mention of it has your eyes snapping up and he’s staring back at you with a knowing look on his face.
“I—“
“Does Taehyung know you’re here?” He asks all of a sudden. He’s even closer now.
“Wha—no, h-he doesn’t.” Stop stuttering, goddammit. “Why would he know? We’re not dating or anything…” Great, make it sound like you’re explaining yourself now, dumbass.
“Oh,” he looks amused now. His tongue flickers out to wet his bottom lip and you can’t stop your eyes from flitting down to catch the movement. “So, you wouldn’t mind if he found out that you’re here? At my place? After he just got done fucking you?”
Your gasp is loud, almost sounding like those of movies that were a tad bit exaggerated, but you promise it wasn’t.
“Yoongi I—“
His hand is coming up to your face and your words die in your throat, and you can’t even remember what you were planning on saying because he’s so close now. His warm, minty breath is hitting your face and his thumb is gently nudging your chin to tilt your head back a bit. Sharp eyes lock with yours in a heated gaze that tells you he knows exactly what’s going on.
“Tell me, __,” his tone is as calm as ever. “Is little Tae not treating you well?”
Your heart is racing and you shift a bit but his forefinger and thumb hold your chin just a bit tightly to keep your gaze locked on his. You swallow and keep quiet.
“It’s a bit funny, you know,” he murmurs. Your skin heats at the way his eyes trail over your form, and you think your cheeks are about to melt off any second now because of the way he’s swallowing you with his gaze. “He’s always bragging about this and that.” His thumb brushes against your bottom lip and your gasp is much softer this time but it hits differently than the last one, awakening something in Yoongi, similar to what he felt that other night a month ago. “But I don’t think he’s been taking care of you.”
You shake your head as a confirmation to his words, unable to speak because you were sure your voice would waver and you would sound pathetic because fuck you wanted him so bad.
“Need me to take care of you?” He asks a question he already knows the answer to, his hand leaving your chin to travel to the back of your head to tangle his fingers into your messy strands of hair and pushing your face closer to his.
“Yes,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed as you wait for him to fucking kiss you already.
“Want a real man to fuck you, huh?”
You whimper and nod vigorously.
“Yes, Yoongi. I want you to fuck m—hmph.”
You don’t get to finish your crude request because his mouth is devouring yours and you all but melt into his arms as he pulls you on top of him, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he helps you straddle his slim thighs, allowing you to situate yourself properly as he slithers his tongue into your mouth.
This is it. This is when you completely lose your composure. Grinding your hips down against his desperately, digging your hands into his hair, moaning into his mouth – you’re already so overwhelmed at the knowledge that you’re about to reach release tonight from the man you’ve been fantasizing about and craving for a month now. And fuck if you weren’t absolutely desperate for it.
He takes you to his bedroom because the couch doesn’t have nearly enough room for what he’s got planned for you. Spread out on his sheets, cheeks flushed and hair fanned out, he gazes down at you hungrily before you plead with him to join you already, and he does.
He doesn’t kiss you though. He gets to work, he knows what you’re craving for right now and he’s more than ready to provide it. Kisses are littered down your body before your shorts are being ripped off and your panties are joining very soon after. You sigh out his name when you feel him beginning to place wet kisses all around your mound, some on your inner thighs, some on your abdomen, eventually landing on your already soaked pussy.
“Pretty pussy,” he murmurs, bringing a hand up and spreading your lips apart with his forefinger and middle finger. You’re watching him with dazed eyes and he looks up at you with a similar expression as he takes a languid stripe across your lips and your bottom lip is taken beneath your teeth. “Can’t wait to fuck it full of my cum.”
“Fuck.”
Your whimper is small and frail both because of his words; a crude promise, and the sensation of his tongue beginning to lap at you. Slowly building you up with his mouth, he delves his tongue deeper into you and gathers your taste, humming lowly in delight against you. Your breathing grows heavier, fingers threading into the soft strands of his dark hair as he wraps his arms around thighs and spreads them further apart for him.
“Yoongi,” you breathe out, feeling more of your wetness seeping out and he’s quick to lap it up, a large, veiny hand slithering up your body to fondle your breasts through your shirt. You gasp, back arching when his lips purse around your clit and suck harshly. Eyes fluttering closed for a second because they were starting to roll back into your head, his name escapes your lips in another whimper when he covers the expanse of your pussy with his mouth and sucks greedily.
Then he’s pulling away for a second and your eyes immediately flicker back open as you look down to watch what he’s doing and fuck his chin is shiny with your own slick and you can’t hold back a whimper at the sight. And in the next second, he’s pursing his lips above your pussy, a string of spit falling from his mouth and landing on your already spit-soaked center and fuck if you weren’t dripping down his sheets at that.
“Fuck,” you whisper when he does it again, the sight unbelievably hot and erotic to you as he rubs two fingers against you to spread the wetness across your mound. And he goes back to tonguing you down, head bobbing back and forth, left and right, doing whatever he can to push you to the edge. The muscle of his tongue stiffens as he pushes it inside you.
“Hnngh—“
Your hips buckle and he lets you, flattening his tongue to allow you to get off on his tongue, and in the next few seconds, with a few sucks on your clit and some encouraging words, you’re gushing over his tongue.
The high you just experienced had you craving more. You weren’t completely satisfied. You wanted more of him and let him know.
“Fuck me. Please Yoongi, fuck me,” you plead.
You’re both bare of clothes in a matter of seconds and he’s tugging on his hardened cock as he positions himself at your entrance, barely giving you a look of warning before he finally pushes in.
“Fuck,” he breathes, pushing in all the way until he’s fully sheathed inside your warmth. Your moan is loud, relieved at feeling full of him and immediately grinding your hips up against his because you were more than ready for him to move. He doesn’t bother to set a slow pace and opts for a fast one, snapping his hips into yours and fucking you into the mattress.
“Y-yoongi!” You cry out, mouth dropping open as he fucks you open with his cock, nudging deeper into you with every thrust. Hair sticking to his forehead with sweat dripping down his temples, he looks sexier than any man you’ve ever laid your eyes on, pale skin flushed red and pouty lips parted to let out the most beautiful, erotic sounds.
“Fuck! Oh—god yes,” your back arches when he slows down just a bit and rolls his hips just right a few times, the pleasure blinding you as your eyes roll back. He does this a few times, giving you quick and harsh thrusts that jostle your body up the mattress and causes your breasts to jiggle just how he likes then switches back to grinding his hips incredibly hard into yours, managing to push even deeper into your pussy.
“Fuck, your cunt feels amazing,” he grunts. “That kid doesn’t deserve it.”
Fuck. Fuck. You were about to lose your mind any second now at his words. His words shouldn’t have turned you on so much but you found yourself leaking around his cock, walls tightening around him as you sucked him deeper into you. His smirk is sinister because he feels it, he knows it.
“Missed my cock this much, huh?” He chuckles breathily and brings a hand to your throat, gently placing it there to gauge your reaction. Your whine is more than enough approval for him to tighten his grip as he fucks into you harder.
“Fuckfuckfuck—“ You’re mewling and wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him harder against you. The sounds you’re making are absurd, the wet sound of his balls hitting your skin with every nudge of his hips doesn’t even compare to the slick sound of his cock fucking you open.
He squeezes your throat just the right amount and you’re cumming, shaking and writhing beneath but he’s not stopping. Oh, far from it. You’re drenched in sweat and your wetness is leaking down to your ass, most definitely ruining the sheets but that’s the furthest of your concerns because he’s rolling his hips again and his abdomen is nudging your clit—
“Hngh—Yoongi! Ahh, fuck.”
“Shh,” he shushes you, not slowing his hips for even a second, going back to his fast pace and your eyes are tearing up because it’s painful pleasure and you love it so much. “You can give me one more, right?”
“Yes. Yesyesyes.” You’re delirious with pleasure, nodding vigorously.
His hand moves up from your throat and your chest heaves as you suck in several deep breaths but he’s quick to grip your face harshly, and you see his eyes flicker dangerously.
“You love my cock, don’t you?” You choke out a weak, pitiful yes. “Such a slut.”
You whine for the nth time and do something you never thought you’d do. You part your lips and stick your tongue out, and for a second, Yoongi doesn’t fathom what you’re actually asking from him, slowing his hips down just a bit.
“Spit in my mouth. Fuck, please Yoongi, I—“
His grip once again tightens around your cheeks and your tongue sticks out once again as Yoongi lets out a sound near a growl at how submissive you seem right now. He’s leaning closer and pursing his lips to land a glob of sweat perfectly on your tongue that you immediately swallow without request, eyes rolling back at the new sensation. And as soon as you do, you’re parting your lips once again, asking for more. He groans loud and clear this time.
“Fuck, you’re filthy,” he almost chuckles before he spits into your mouth once again, doing it every time you requested it because you could ask him to do anything right now and he’d do it in a heartbeat.
When you’ve had enough, his hand is back at your throat and he’s pounding you into the mattress, headboard banging noisily against the wall as you squeal out your pleasure. His other hand is reaching for your clit and he’s rubbing furiously before you cum around his cock for the second time that night.
He releases your throat and grabs both your thighs, throwing them over his shoulder and looking down at where his cock is drilling into you, watching your creamy wetness soak his skin as he pistons his hips faster and faster, grunting and huffing as he focuses on getting himself there, and it’s only with your pleas and desperate cries that he manages to pump you full of his cum. Balls deep inside you, length twitching as his cum coats your abused pussy in warm spurts that have you mewling in satisfaction.
“Fuck,” he groans one last time before he slips out of you, lazily dropping his body on the mattress as you both stare up at the ceiling in amazement, trying to catch your breaths.
Then you’re both turning onto your sides and staring at each other for a few seconds before you both start chuckling. It goes on for a bit, and then you shuffle closer to him as he lifts his arm for you to cuddle up to.
“That was…”
“Yeah.”
It’s quiet for a bit, until he finally breaks the silence with a phrase that has your heart beating just a tad bit faster.
“So, um, do you think you can stop sleeping with Taehyung now…?”
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taetaespeaches · a year ago
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“I never would’ve thought Agust D would be so soft after sex.”
yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: smut; fluff word count: 3.1K
a/n: ok, so, Kid is ready to give Yoon that good good just after hearing like half the mixtape, our girl hasn’t even seen the damn mv yet guys, like, she’s ready to pounce after just seven songs from her man. And honestly, mood. I hope you lovelies enjoy this, I hope it lives up to your expectations lmao, and thank you for reading :))
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YOU paced back and forth from one end of your kitchen to the other as you waited for Yoongi to answer his damn phone. I mean, seriously, how long does it take to pick up the-
“Hello?” Yoongi’s low voice interrupted your thoughts through the phone’s speaker.
Gasping, you eagerly asked, “Can I start listening?” omitting a proper greeting.
“Oh hey, I’m fine, how are you?” He teased.
You rolled your eyes, fully aware he couldn’t see you. “You’re expecting a lot of self-control from me right now, Min,” you complained.
Yoongi allowed himself to chuckle before responding with a humored, “if you want, you can listen, Kid.”
You squealed in excitement, bouncing around in front of the oven. “You’re sure? I don’t have to wait for you or anything?”
“Nah, I’m almost there anyway,” he told you, and you could tell by the tone of his voice he was grinning. “Just no music video yet,” he said in a whiny tone which you knew must be accompanied with a pout. He enjoyed watching your reaction to his music videos.
“No music video, I promise,” you smiled, absolutely fond of the man. “Oh my god, I’m not ready for this am I?” You yelled out, Yoongi scoffing in response.
“Jesus, you’re ridiculous,” he groaned.
“Shush, I’m hanging up, I have a long-awaited mixtape to listen to, thank you very much.”
“Ok fine, fine,” he laughed, but before you could hang up, Yoongi added, “Hey, Kid?” You hummed in response. “Love you.”
You’ve heard the words a million times, but it never failed to make your heart pound. However, that didn’t stop you from teasing him a bit. “Yeah, yeah, love you, I gotta go, priorities, baby. I don’t know if you’ve heard but the Agust D just made a comeback.”
He chuckled into the phone once more before giving you a, “See you in a bit,” and then hung up.
Immediately, you were pressing play on the mixtape on Spotify, already having had it pulled up for five minutes.
The first song, ‘Moonlight’, started off soft before scratching records came in, and then your boyfriend’s voice. When he gave his iconic laugh with an “August D” you smiled in pride. That’s my honey boy.
You turned your attention to the meal you were preparing for you and Yoongi, one of his favorites, stirring the contents in a big pot on the stovetop. Bopping along to the music, you listened to the lyrics that talked about his story, starting in Daegu to flying high with his group, how he goes through feelings of confidence in his work to feeling untalented, the struggles of writing this exact mixtape due to the pressure from a larger audience, expectations, and self-doubt. You knew those struggles all too well. You were with him throughout it all.
You’d been given glimpses of the songs throughout the writing process, some tracks in full while others you only saw lyric scribblings on those yellow notepads he leaves around his studio and that littered your apartment. You first saw the chorus to ‘Moonlight’ written on one of those notepads that sat on your bedside table.
“I like this,” you told your boyfriend, holding the notepad in one hand as the other found its way in his dampened hair, his face resting against your bare chest.
“Huh?” He looked up at you, his hand gripping your waist as his eyelids fluttered. The sheets were in disarray around your still nude forms. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, is it for D-2?”
“Maybe,” he told you with a yawn. “Not sure.”
“I think you should use it,” you told him, your finger outlining the shell of his ear as his lips curved into a lazy smile. “It’s beautiful.”
“You really think so?” He asked, uncertain and a bit more awake.
“Yeah, definitely.”
He kissed the center of your chest before nuzzling his face further against your breasts. “You always know best, Kid.”
You felt your eyes prick with tears as you listened to the song, feeling immensely proud of your boyfriend. Of how hard he worked, of overcoming the doubt and fear, and just simply for the talent, passion, and artistry he shared with so many people.
As the mixtape played, you went through phases of dancing around, squealing in excitement, gasping at lyrics and phrasing, and more bouncing and dancing. You tried your best to focus on the lyrics, though you knew it would take a few listens to catch them all as you were too excited to comprehend everything just then.
Completely invested in the music, you didn’t hear your front door open, unaware of your boyfriend’s presence until he appeared in your peripheral, catching you doing a little strut that resembled Yoongi’s swagger walk he did on stage. Your head snapping to him, you were met with his gummy grin, his shoulders shaking in laughter as ‘Burn It’ continued to play throughout the kitchen.
“Are you leaving me for Agust D yet?” He teased, walking toward you.
“Do you realize how sexy you are? Like do you have any idea?” You asked accusatorily. “Like what the fuck, dude?”
“Jesus,” he huffed, a smile still plastered on his face. “You’re actually ridiculous.”
“Yeah, and you’re ridiculously talented, Min. You’re not told that enough,” you told him seriously. Reaching you, he placed his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, stepping further into his arms.
“I’m told that plenty,” he dismissed with a bashful grin.
“No, you’re not,” you told him as ‘Burn It’ continued to play. Instead of responding to you, he kissed you which you immediately deepened, Yoongi stepping back a bit by the unexpected force behind your actions, though his arms wrapped tighter around your waist so your body was flush with his.
Pulling away, he chased your lips, making you smile. “I don’t even have the words right now to tell you how proud I am of you,” you told him seriously, tears forming in your eyes. You watched as Yoongi took a deep breath, keeping his own emotions under control at your sincere confession. “Just know I’m really proud,” you said as tears threatened to fall.
He quickly nodded just before bringing a hand to your jaw as he caught your lips again, giving you several quick pecks as he composed himself.
Letting out a breath that sounded to be one of relief, Yoongi peered around your frame, inspecting the food cooking on the stove, as well as the food that had spilled outside of the pot, with a grin. “That looks good.”
“Hopefully,” you said with a smile as Yoongi nuzzled his face against your neck, refusing to let you go. With the overwhelming pride and love you felt, mixed with the fact that the man on the mixtape was all yours, and he was standing in your kitchen, in your arms, pressing sweet kisses to your neck, you had a sudden desire for him.
As ‘People’ started playing, you were instantly struck with the memory of coming to his studio as he was working on that very track. It was just the instrumental then, but it was interesting and different from the other stuff he had been working on. Yoongi must have been thinking upon the same memory as he lifted his head, a gummy grin directed to you as his eyes found yours.
“I remember the night you wrote this,” you smiled, biting your lower lip. That night, you had spent about an hour of it sitting on his desk as Yoongi sat in his chair in front of you, his chin resting on your knees as you both discussed your ideas of life, and people, and changes, and what it all meant, if it even meant anything.  
You had already been dating for well over a year, but it was a moment where you and Yoongi felt a closeness between you both that hadn’t really been there before, becoming more mentally and emotionally attune with each other.
The conversation eventually faded out, the intense feeling of understanding between you both leading to you having sex on his studio couch.
“Trust me, I remember it very well,” he chuckled, his mind running through every moment of that night, from the feeling of closeness, to the warmth of your body underneath his as he pressed you against the couch cushions, the way you moaned his name and whispered ‘I love you’s’.
As the chorus of ‘People’ sounded from your laptop, your eyes widened at the sultry soothe of your boyfriend’s vocals.
“Since when do you sing like that, Min?” You teased with a smile, your eyes bouncing around his soft features. As he let out a breathy chuckle, you slid your your hands down his neck to rest overtop his collarbones as you leaned toward him and kissed him deeply.
The action took him by surprise though he easily found his rhythm, his hands slipping underneath your shirt, feeling at the bare skin of your waist.
As you began backing up, he quickly felt around to shut the stove off before following you toward the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Your hands found his waist as his moved to your face, taking control. You began lifting his shirt up, you both separating just long enough for you to pull it over his head and discard it somewhere in the hallway outside your room.
Eagerly, you unbuttoned his jeans, Yoongi helping you get the clothing off him as he released his hold on you to step out of them. Backing up, your legs hit the edge of the bed and you locked your eyes with your boyfriend’s. Smirking at him, you pulled your own shirt off before unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor at your feet.
Yoongi bit his lip, his eyes settling on your chest before slowly dragging them back up to meet your darkened gaze. Tilting his head at you, you quipped, “What are you waiting for?” Yoongi scoffed before approaching you and pushing your body so you fell against the mattress. He reached for the waist of your jeans, taking no time in unzipping them and tugging them down your legs, you lifting your hips to help him. Your panties were removed next, Yoongi dropping them to floor as he allowed his eyes to rake over your body, taking in every inch of you.
You sat up on your elbows, watching the man as he looked over your nude form. “For a man who brags an awful lot about being a king and a boss, you seem a bit timid, baby,” you teased in a sultry tone.
Your boyfriend scoffed again, a smirk forming on his lips. “Be patient,” he scolded, though he stepped toward you, nudging your inner knee with his leg, making you widen the gap between your thighs as he stared down at your center.
“My patience disappeared the moment I clicked play on that mixtape,” you smiled. “I want you.” With that, you sat up, your hands slipping underneath the waistband of his underwear, lowering them until they easily slid down his legs, pooling at his feet. You kept eye contact with him as you left a sweet kiss to his lower abdomen, just above his pelvic area.
He let out a quick breath as he smiled, lowering his body on top of yours, your back meeting the mattress. “If I had known Agust D would get you this worked up I would have released a mixtape two years ago,” he joked, your hands grabbing onto his sides as his lips found yours, kissing you passionately.
One of his arms was being used to prop himself up overtop you as his opposite hand slid down to your core, his fingers feeling between your legs. He groaned into your mouth at feeling how wet you’d become, and you smiled against his lips.
Not wanting to wait any longer, you used your strength to push against his body, rolling him over and straddling his hips. Yoongi’s breath was heavy and shallow as he anticipated being inside you, his large hands gripping your hips, his eyes eagerly taking in the sight of your form on top of him. He always did love you on top.
Placing one of your hands to his chest, your other found his hardened length. You stroked him a few times, Yoongi letting out a soft moan at the feeling, his hand sliding up your abdomen to your breast as he squeezed the supple flesh in his palm. At his touch, you guided him to your entrance, sharply intaking breath at the feeling of him slipping inside, letting the air out in a throaty moan.
“Fuck, Kid,” Yoongi breathed out, pinching your nipple between his fingers as you moved your hand from his dick to his chest, bracing yourself against him as you began slowly grinding atop him. Yoongi’s hand left your breast to your thigh, clutching the muscle as he bit his lip, watching your body move. “You’re so fucking hot.”
You held back a moan as you increased your pace, looking up to the ceiling before squeezing your eyes shut as he hit particularly deep. “Fuck,” you breathed out, lowering your gaze to Yoongi’s face, meeting his hooded eyes as he looked up at you in bliss.
His chest was like velvet underneath your hands and you wanted to feel more of his skin on yours. As if reading your mind, Yoongi moved his hands to your lower back, pulling you toward him so your chest was flush with his. He kissed you messily as he lifted his hips off the bed to move in and out of you as he held you to his body.
“I love you so much,” he confessed shakily against your lips, his breathing erratic due to the pleasure you were giving him.
“Oh my god, Yoongi, I love you,” you moaned, moving your face to his neck where you kissed and nibbled his skin lightly.
Wanting to treat him, you reluctantly pulled yourself away from him, sitting back up as you rocked back and forth on him, arching your back and placing a hand to his thigh to support yourself. Yoongi’s hands grabbed onto the sides of your legs as he watched you, looking more and more fucked out the longer you rode him.
Eyeing his thin but toned body, his smooth skin, and the flex of his abdomen as he took sharp breaths, you groaned. “You look so good,” you told him, admiring the man beneath you. Your man. All yours. “Feel so good,” you moaned.
One of Yoongi’s hands left your leg to find your hand that was pressed against his lower abdomen. He took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours before bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly as he locked his gaze on yours.
The intimate action had your lower abdomen tightening. Sitting up straight, you brought your hand toward him which he grabbed with his other hand, helping you to support yourself as your motions atop him became hastier, approaching your high.
“Yoon, I’m gonna-”
“I know, baby,” he nodded, squeezing your hands as you neared your climax. “Me too.”
You let out a whimper, lowering your body to Yoongi’s again, your dewy chest meeting his, Yoongi wrapping his arms around your lower back as you both worked each other into your finishes. Yoongi buried his face in your neck as he let out small muffled grunts, you breathing out a moan in his ear. As he came, he hugged your body to his tightly, letting go inside you. The feeling of him releasing had you crashing into your own high, biting your lip as you moaned breathily, Yoongi kissing your neck sweetly as you came down.
You relaxed atop Yoongi, breathing heavy as his fingers toyed with the small of your back, soothing back and forth along the curve of your ass. You had a hand on his neck, slipping your fingers into his damp strands, your other hand on his chest, dragging your fingers along his pectoral.
“The mixtape is really good,” you assured him in a whisper, kissing his jaw. “Well, what I’ve heard so far.”
Yoongi let out a breathy chuckle, flattening a palm on your lower back. “Thank you, Kid.”
“No need to thank me, I’m just being honest.”
“No, thank you for always supporting me. In everything,” he clarified, emotion thick in his voice.
You lifted your head to peer at his face, catching the glassy shine in his eyes. “Always,” you assured him.
He nodded, looking at you with a soft smile. “I know,” he whispered, barely audible, giving away that he didn’t trust his voice, knowing it would break if he spoke louder. “It means- you mean the world.”
You lowered your lips to his face, giving his plush cheek a small kiss. “I never would’ve thought Agust D would be so soft after sex,” you teased with a big smile, Yoongi scoffing, though he couldn’t hold back his gummy grin.
He groaned loudly, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m starving,” he changed the topic, making you giggle.
“Well, lucky for you, your girlfriend made you a delicious nearly cooked meal that is probably very cold at this point,” you smirked.  
“Oh, lucky for me?” He questioned with a small smile.
“Mhmm,” you confirmed with a small chuckle.
Yoongi sucked air between his teeth, ticking his head to the side. “Remind me to wife you up later.”
You scoffed playfully, rolling off his body as you prepared to stand up and find some clothes. “In your dreams, Min.”
Scooping your t-shirt off the floor, you slipped it over your head before grabbing a pair of panties from your dresser drawer, all while Yoongi’s eyes followed your every move. Sending your boyfriend an air kiss from where he sat at the edge of the bed watching you, you walked toward the bedroom door. “Hurry up and get dressed, Gramps, I need your album commentary.”
You exited the room, turning toward the bathroom to clean yourself up. Yoongi shook his head with a chuckle. “Yeah, in my dreams,” he mumbled as he stood up to get dressed. Taking his sweet ass time, you walked back past the bedroom toward the kitchen, noticing him still stumbling around for a shirt.
“Hey, hustle, Min! I still have a music video to watch, my dude!” You called out to him as he looked to you with widened eyes. “Your shirt is out here, by the way.”
“Ah, what did I tell you about patience,” he whined out, a pout on his lips as he walked through the hallway, grabbing his shirt on his way, feeling full of appreciation and adoration for you.  
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army-author · 3 years ago
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yoongi scenario | garden in my heart
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❝ Yoongi likes to destroy, and you like to create. But love blooms in unusual places, and between unlikely hearts. ❞
➸ prompt: I accidentally grabbed your sketchbook in art class, and it’s filled with amazing doodles… wait is that supposed to be you and me… and are we…???
➸ pairing: bad boy yoongi x reader
➸ requested by anon | 2.1k words | fluff
➸ author’s note: I strayed a little far from the prompt with this one, but... this is what felt right for the story... so here you go, fluff and bad boy Yoongi! A wonderful concoction I never knew I needed ‘till just now! Also, this was kind of inspired by ‘secret garden’ by oh my girl!
Floriography. Or the language of flowers. It’s another way to talk outside of the words you always find yourself struggling with, giving clumsy constructions and hesitating answers every time you open your mouth.
You’d much rather communicate with flowers. And drawings. Giving a sketchbook’s worth of your feelings, captured better than words ever could, is so much easier.
The flowers you draw represent the garden growing in your heart, and the flowers in that garden represent your dreams. In one corner are almond blossoms, which are your desire to share your art with the world.
Almond blossoms. Translation – hope.
In another corner are dandelions, with your wish to live happily, yearning to grow and improve, learning more about yourself as you do.
Dandelions. Translation – happiness.
And tucked away in a hidden corner, almost overgrown with bushes, where you can deny its existence, is your unwavering crush on Yoongi. He makes you feel like you’re experiencing life for the first time, air fresher, colours brighter, and with these emotions come free growing flowers in the untended reaches of your chest – all camellias, and carnations, and acacia blossoms.
Camellias – admiration
Carnations – fascination.
Acacia blossoms – concealed love.
These flowers fill your chest, your mind, your sketch book - a secret code for you.
But sometimes drawing the flowers isn’t enough. Sometimes, as you sit with a pencil in your grasp, and your mind fogging over, your hand will absently fall to sketching Yoongi’s gentle features - his soft eyes, pouting lips, and dewy cheeks, all disguised behind the dyed hair, the multiple piercings, the bright tattoos, and the perpetual scowl that has set him apart as the bad boy of your school with his punk airs, and devil-may-care attitude.
That doesn’t stop you from being drawn to him, or from drawing him, surrounded by your flowers – all red chrysanthemums.
Red chrysanthemums – ‘I love’.
But Yoongi will never notice your flowers, or your wayward glances when your eyes strike out to find him across classrooms and corridors. He’s too different from you – he’s brash, while you’re patient, he’s rebellious, while you self-consciously stick to the rules, and he crumbles down while you build up.
You think you’ll never have a chance with him. But the universe has other plans.
And so you find yourself paired up with him on the history trip, as fate stretches out your roots, twining them towards Yoongi, to catch hold of him, and pull him closer.
You find yourself by his side, at the train station outside the nineteenth century gardens you’re meant to be investigating for your history class, watching him carefully, while the other students drain off towards the gate leading to the flower beds and blossom trees.
Yoongi shows no sign of moving, just standing, wrinkling his nose at the grey of a cloudy spring morning, pulling his coat closer over his studded leather jacket.
You hug your clip board (given courtesy of the school) to your chest, aware of the twenty questions printed on it that you don’t really want to fill in, although the school gives them to you anyway, to make it feel as if you’re learning something rather than just staring at flowers and old statues. “Yoongi, we should go into the gardens and see if we can get the answers,” you say, although your voice lacks the enthusiasm you should have for school work – and also lacks the steadiness you were hoping for, losing your nerve around Yoongi, with gardenias blooming in your chest
Gardenias - ‘you’re lovely,’ not that Yoongi will ever know that.
Yoongi gives a sniff, mouth working around some gum (you know he only chews the strawberry-smelling stuff because it’s against school rules), and with a kick at some stones lying on the ground, gives a grunt which you interpret as “Sure.”
With a nod, not sure what else to say to him, you turn on your heel, and head towards the gate into the gardens, a small seed planting self-hatred at your lame lack of conversation, struck dumb around your crush. Now anemones grow.
Anemones - forsaken.
You can’t hear footsteps behind you, and casting a quick glance over your shoulder, you see Yoongi still in place, in front of the train tracks, scuffing the toe of his boot along the ground as he drags a sharp stone with his sole to leave scratchings on the pavement.
Part of you knows you should call him over. Part of you is too scared to.
You head on, biting down on your lip, and check the first point on your clipboard questionnaire. ‘When was this garden established?’
The answer is emblazoned across the gate in gold. Not too difficult. 1845.
Next question. ‘In floriography, what flower was used to symbolise a declaration of love?’
This one is easy for you. With your fascination with flowers, and your love for drawing them, you already know the answer. But you want to find the red tulips yourself, rather than simply writing down the answer. After all, that’s the whole point of this trip. To see the flowers that were arranged so long ago, planted, maintained, and replanted for so many years.
Now where to find them.
“Seriously… how are we meant to know the answer to that?” A rough voice by your shoulder makes you jump, and you snap your head around to find Yoongi only a few inches away, his nose so close that he blurs out of focus. He stares at you, almost as surprised to have scared you, as you are scared to find him close.
“Yoongi!” is all you can get past lips that seem to be sticking together, “I… thought you weren’t going to help me!”
He steps back, and gives a shrug, eyes falling to the gravel path. “Yeah… well… you made me feel bad walking off alone. You looked all sad and sorry by yourself...”
You bite down on a smile, seeing him embarrassed to be showing anything but a jagged exterior around you. But this softer side is exactly why you fell in love with him – because you know that even though he seems to like destroying wherever he goes, whether it’s smearing graffiti on abandoned alley walls, or staining his own skin with black tattoo ink, or that one time he burned the grass on your school’s front pitch to write some rather rude words about the school principle (although no one could ever prove it was him), there’s more to him that that. Because all this is his way of expressing himself, the way you do with your sketchbook – and while others might see it as destruction, you see it as another kind of creation. After all, this is the boy that you’ve caught helping stray cats out of trees, defending younger kids from bullies, and picking up rubbish that people were too busy to put in the bin only a few feet away. Yoongi isn’t bad. Just an artist – like you. But while your canvas is the pages in your sketch book, his canvas is the world around him.
“So…” he sniffs again, and scratches the bridge of his nose, “Where are we meant to go… what symbolises a declaration of love, or whatever?”
“I’ll show you,” you smile, and with a glance at the signposts in the garden, you turn and lead Yoongi down the twisting paths, past hedges and planted bushes, checking behind you every so often, just to make sure he’s following. Or course he is, always there, with an awkward smile back your way when you lock eyes.
At last you reach the tulip bed, seeing the bright flowers spreading out in front of you, a rainbow array of petals reaching up to the grey clouds, with drops from the earlier rain shower clumping in diamond clusters on the soft petals.
“Red tulips,” you tell Yoongi.
A declaration of love.
Yoongi looks to the flowers, and then back to you, squinting in the harsh sunlight that breaks past angry looking clouds. “How do you know which flowers mean what?”
You shrug. “I just like drawing flowers.”
“So you know what they mean? You don’t just… draw them?”
You wrinkle your eyebrows at him. “Well, what about you? Don’t all your tattoos mean something?”
His hand falls absent-mindedly to his wrist, where you see the colourful butterfly he has inked there. “Yeah… they do.”
“My drawings are like your tattoos, then,” you say.
He smiles, “I suppose that makes sense.”
You both look to the flowers, watching as their petals twist in the bracing breeze. Then, before you can stop yourself, the words come tumbling out: “So what does the tattoo on your wrist mean?”
“Hmm…?” he looks back, dragged away from his thoughts, and his fingers trace out the butterfly’s wing on his porcelain skin. “Oh… it’s…”
“Sorry,” you blush, “You don’t need to tell me if it’s too personal.”
“It’s for growth,” Yoongi says, before you can keep backtracking with your mumbled words, “I guess it’s like, my desire to grow into something I can admire. Metamorphosis, you know? It’s... cheesy, huh? You better not tell anyone... or my reputation at school will be ruined.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” You smile at Yoongi, relieved that he doesn’t mind your pressing, and he smiles back. For one moment, you feel that maybe he isn’t as far from you as you worried. That his heart isn’t impossible for you to reach after all.
With that conversation over and done, Yoongi turns his attention to the flowers, and you take a few steps back to the bench. Sitting with your coat tucked around you, you pull your sketch book from your pocket, and stealing up glances every so often, you draw Yoongi yet again, surrounded by the red tulips, just as he appears in front of you – half smile, clear skinned, eyes watchful.
It’s been a while since you’ve drawn in such calm, sketching in the sounds of a spring breeze that promises more warmth than it gives, working with your pencil to keep your cold fingers warm.
Yoongi turns his attention back to you, as you add in the last details of the tulips with your red pen. “What are you drawing?”
You blush, caught in the act. You can’t hide it from him, so wordlessly, you hold out the notebook to him.
He takes it his hands, holding your creation with delicacy, like it’s made of glass; he scans his black eyes over the picture. After a few ticks of silence, with you fidgeting on the bench, pulling on the strings of your coat hood, he nods: “It’s good. You’re really talented.”
He passes your work back to you, and as you take it in your hands again, he points to the flowers spread out in a red ocean around your drawing of him. “That’s a declaration of love, right?’
You glance up to him, eyes locking together, in a bind you can’t get yourself out of, and you realise, with your heart rising, that he understands everything. You can’t hide the meaning from him, and the flowers in your chest well up, red roses, red chrysanthemums, red tulips.
Translation - Love. Love. Love.
With your words snatched from your throat, you can only nod, and Yoongi chuckles, taking the spot on the bench beside you, and you stare out at the space of red tulips in front of you, bobbing on waves in a crimson ocean, like the blood roaring in your bursting heart.
♡♡♡
[One year, and one graduation later]
“I got a new tattoo,” Yoongi announces, as he crashes into your dorm at university. You glance up from your sketch book, where you’ve been working on your next portfolio, lips automatically rising to a smile when you see your boyfriend, despite the surprise of him bursting through your door in a rush.
“Let me see,” you swing around on your chair, arms stretching out for him.
He steps forward, catching your hands in his own, intertwining the fingers, and reaching over to plant a kiss on your nose, leaving a blush blooming, no matter how accustomed you are to his affection. Releasing you again, he pulls up his sleeve to show the butterfly he has, where below it, is a newly added tattoo: a red tulip.
“It’s a declaration of love,” he tells you.
You can only blush all the more furiously. “You’re ridiculous. We’ve been dating for almost a year, and you’re only now declaring your love?”
author’s note: sorry that I posted this later than normal! I’ve been trying to get into a better sleep schedule, so I went to bed early, rather than forcing myself to stay up and post this. I hope you don’t mind, and that you enjoyed it! 💖
also - side note - but I hope that I got the flowers’ meanings right! I was relying on this one website, so I don’t know if they’re all accurate... it was fun to research though!
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