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#bts agust d
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68/638 One Suga a day while he is away :')
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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 5 months
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touch-starved | min yoongi
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we are going to ignore how every single one of my writings has nightmares in them, i personally experience very vivid nightmares on occasion so i guess art imitates life or whatever. also we're gonna ignore that this is the second bodyguard imagine i've written, this one was a request so it's a little less embarrassing but still is a little but not enough that i won't post it on the internet because i know y'all shameless too. here we have bodyguard!yoongi x celebrity fem!reader. warnings: stalking/stalkers (not yoongi this is not a yandere situation sorry), mentions of loneliness, a nightmare (obvs its me writing duh), horror movie mentioned...........idk if there's anything else but please do lmk
There is a soft knock at the hotel room door. You check the peephole to see Yoongi standing there, tapping rhythmically on his leg as he waits for you to let him in.
“Well, as far as I can tell, you’re not being followed,” he says as he enters, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it onto the chair by the sofa.
You sit on the sofa, rubbing your temples. “Well, that’s a relief,” you say tiredly.
“All this trouble for a guy you’re not even dating,” Yoongi says mildly, but he’s looking at you with his curious eyes, trying to gauge your mood.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever even talked to him,” you agree, flopping listlessly onto your side. “Remind me never to smile at anyone in public ever again.”
He smiles. “Or wear similar outfits, or go to the same places,” he adds, his eyes gentle. Then he leans against the sofa, facing the wall. “It’s not your fault, though.”
“I know,” you sigh. “You know, I kind of wish it was real,” you admit.
“Why? You like the guy?” Yoongi asks sharply.
“Not really,” you muse. “I mean, he is handsome. But it’s really that if I were in a relationship, it would mean that someone got close enough to me to like me.”
“I know you,” he responds indignantly. “And I like you.”
“You’re my bodyguard. You are paid to like me, so it doesn’t count,” you protest.
Yoongi shakes his head, annoyed. “On a good day,” he says scathingly, “I’d like you even if you weren’t paying me.”
“That’s the nicest thing you ever said to me,” you say, and the tension in the room dissolves as Yoongi gives you a smirk. “Who knew it would be so lonely to be a celebrity,” you say lightly, unable to escape a twinge of bitterness in your voice.
“It’s not all bad,” Yoongi reminds you, nodding out the massive windows at the spectacular skyline view.
You smile at the setting sun. “True,” you allow. “This part I like.” You watch for a few minutes as the sun sinks almost imperceptibly lower. “You must think I’m so spoiled.”
Yoongi shrugs. “I can see how there would be drawbacks. Personal privacy is a luxury that only poor people can afford.”
You tsk at him. “You’re talking in riddles again,” you scold. “It’s a condition at this point. You should really have it checked.”
He grins. “Just say you aren’t smart enough to understand,” he shoots back.
You chuckle, loving the back-and-forth. “Just say you have to pretend to be smart by using big words,” you retaliate.
He bows, his grin wider, as if to say, “you won this round”. “So,” he says, going to the mini fridge and popping a can of soda open. “What shall it be tonight, madame?”
You crinkle your nose in disgust at his butler-like tone. “Something spooky. In honor of fall,” you tell him, handing him the remote.
When he had become your bodyguard two years ago, at the recommendation of your agency, you had learned that he was required to work long into the night at your side. Feeling bad, you had started to watch movies every night when he came around so that he’d at least have something to do. Your relationship had come a long way — he had started out watching the movies from the back of the room, standing by the door, to now, sitting beside you on the sofa. This was representative of your relationship as well — when you had first met he was cold and professional, but now the two of you bantered back and forth in a way that was comfortable and easy. You really couldn’t remember ever feeling so comfortable with anyone, in fact.
It was hard to know when your less responsible feelings for him had begun. Truthfully, you suspected that you had just developed an unhealthy attachment to the only person you spent time around, but there were nights when you’d watch him writing in a little pocket-sized notebook, his long hair falling in front of his face, and imagine how it might have been if you’d met in a normal way — at a college somewhere, where he’d bring you a juice every day and help you study for exams. Now, there was barely a way to tell if what you felt when you saw him — that accelerated heart rate, that quiet thrum of energy in your mind — was real, or if it came from your own foolishness.
You watch him now — his face in the dying sunlight is so pretty you’re almost jealous, and the feeling in your chest pulses in a way that is almost painful. He turns on the TV and scrolls through shows until he finds a promising title: some horror film about an old woman in a spooky old house with a mysterious secret. As you begin the movie he has his arms folded, watching with veiled interest. But he notices the first time you flinch.
“Scared already?” he teases.
“You don’t miss a trick,” you say ruefully. “Pay attention.” You gesture to the screen.
About fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock at the door that corresponds perfectly to a jump scare in the movie, and you yelp in fright. Yoongi gets up, brow furrowed. “Are you expecting anyone?” he asks.
You shake your head no. He looks through the peephole and curses. “It’s your stalker again,” he grumbles, pulling out his cell phone. “Hey, Harvey,” he says, and his voice is calm, but you can tell he’s angry. “I need you to come up to the room and grab something. I was hoping it had already been taken care of.”
The voice of the hotel security team lead says something unintelligible, and Yoongi thanks them before hanging up. He slides the two chains into their places on the door and takes a door jam from his pocket, wedging it between the door and the floor. He grins at your wide eyes. “Don’t worry, milady,” he says, “he can’t get in even if he figures out how to unlock the door.”
“But what if he did get in?” you whisper, spooked.
He shrugs. “I’d kill him,” he replies.
“For real?!” you squeak,
“No,” he says with an eye roll. “But I would incapacitate him in record time. That dude is a wimp.”
He seems to notice you’re nervous, and his eyes soften. “Don’t worry,” he says quietly. “I’ll take care of you.”
When he sits back down, he sits closer to you than normal. Your legs are touching. You look at him quizzically and he smiles. “It’s a small couch,” he says, throwing an arm up over the back of the couch — not around your shoulders, but close enough that you’re blushing.
You try to focus on the movie, but you find that despite your anxiety, you’re beginning to nod off. Almost automatically, you find yourself leaning toward Yoongi’s warmth, and your head finds his shoulder. Giving in to the exhaustion, you find yourself in dreams.
It’s not long before the dreams turn dark. You have been prone to bad dreams as a result of your overactive imagination, but these are more solid than your usual nightmares — stealing from reality and stretching it so that teeth are too long, smiles are too wide, and the hands that reach for you are too strong. You wake up with a gasp.
You’re in your bed. You flick on the bedside lamp and put a hand to your chest, breathing deeply, still anxious. When a soft voice calls your name, you nearly jump out of your skin. Yoongi has poked his head into your bedroom, and is now looking at you in amusement. “It’s just me,” he says, stepping inside. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you say, trying to recover, although your voice still shakes. “I just had a bad dream.”
He grins. “No more falling asleep to horror movies,” he says in a fake-stern voice. “Do you need anything?”
“I think I’d like if you stayed with me a minute,” you confess, your voice quiet, looking at your hands. You are more nervous he’ll say no than you are about the dreams.
When you finally meet his gaze, his expression is unreadable. He walks silently to the side of your bed and sits down beside you. You can’t help but admire how the lamplight casts an alluring shadow on his face before he does something unexpected.
He reaches out, and without looking at you, slips your hand in his.
You stare at him. He has never done this before — never touched you when he could avoid it. You’d always been grateful and a bit disappointed about this. You knew he should keep his distance and simultaneously wished he wouldn’t. To say you’re startled wouldn’t even begin to cover it.
And yet, holding his hand is soothing. You feel your fear fade away, and in a moment of boldness, give his hand a shy squeeze.
He looks at you, then at your interlocked hands. He takes a deep breath. “Well, I need to quit my job.”
This revelation is shocking. “Why?” you ask, suddenly panicked. “If I did something — I mean, I’m sorry if I crossed a line —“
He puts a finger to your lips. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he says gently.
“Then stay with me,” you say, knocking his hand away from your lips.
“I can’t work for you when I feel the way I do about you,” he explains, almost in a pleading tone.
"What are you talking about?" you ask.
"I love you," he blurts.
You gape at him. "What?"
He blushes. "You heard me."
You look at his hand in your hand, and then back to him. "Are you serious?" you ask him, unable to keep a smile from your voice.
He rolls his eyes. "If you're just gonna make me keep repeating myself, this conversation isn't going to go anywhere." He stands up and places your hand back into your lap. "I'll give you some time to process."
You leap out of bed and follow him. "Wait a minute," you say, grabbing his hand. "How do you know you love me?" you ask him, your eyes searching his.
Yoongi blushes, but he looks a little pleased that you've grabbed his hand. "Well," he says, slowly digesting your question, "I think it's pretty easy to know. Of everyone I've ever met and spent time with, I've never enjoyed being around anyone the way I like being around you. Nobody makes me smile like you do, and nobody makes me crazier."
You blink. "Well, I feel all those things about you."
He raises his eyebrows. "You do?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, I don't have many real friends," you explain, "but I'd rather stay in with you and watch movies than go out, or go anywhere really."
"You would?" he asks.
You give him a pointed look. "Now who's repeating themselves?"
He shakes his head. "I'm just shocked. Are you saying you love me back?"
You look at him, trying to find the answer yourself. Your heart is pounding harder than it did at any scary movie, and the heat of his gaze is making you feel flushed and squirmy. You struggle for words. "I --"
Yoongi throws his jacket and keys onto the couch, and in one swift movement he pulls you into his chest. He places his hand on your cheek. "What do you feel right now?" he whispers, his lips inches from yours.
"It's hard to know," you whisper back. "Completely crazy, but somehow calm. Entirely safe, but terrified. It's like I'm on top of something very high, but wearing a harness."
He gives you a tender smile. "That sounds like love to me." And then he kisses you.
You cling to him as he presses a kiss to your lips, then your cheeks and jaw and nose and forehead. Sighing in relief, you melt into his arms, enjoying the feeling of being adored. After he finishes kissing you, he holds you in his arms for awhile, running his hand down your back in soothing motions.
You carefully monitor your feelings as he holds you, realizing that after all this time alone, you could be a bit out of touch with them. You feel a lot of things -- wild and alive and a little dizzy -- but the undercurrent of your feelings is peace and quiet. It feels right.
"You do need to quit," you say suddenly.
He pulls back. "Why?" he asks, shocked.
"Because I do love you back, and I'm not about to pay my boyfriend to hang out with me," you say. "That's pathetic, even for me."
He laughs, tucking your hair behind your ear. "As you wish, love."
"You can hire your replacement in the morning," you say, kissing him again.
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orchidyoonkook · 20 days
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‘I need him in a way that’s concerning to feminism’
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heeybear · 11 months
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Min Yoongi
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louvys · 10 months
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O c e a n - eyes - C h a o s
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rebeca3 · 4 months
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Army do you have some good fanfic recommendations?
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7wallpapers · 1 year
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Agust D - D-Day : People Pt. 2
Like or reblog if you save :]
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beomsafe · 11 months
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𓄼 이 노래는 해금 𓄹
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◌ ꙳ 올라타 봐 지금    ⭗   ⭘ ୭̥
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icesrgi · 11 months
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︴ ﹒   ☆    (>ᴗ<) 🛹  ◦
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︴ ﹒   ☆    (>ᴗ<) ⛓️  ◦
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s-lutier · 4 days
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ও yoongi ( BTS ) lockscreens .
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studioenjoy · 1 month
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65/638 One Suga a day while he is away
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incquotesx · 3 months
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taehyung : how's the weather down there hyung?
yoongi :
taehyung :
yoongi : I'm sorry i must have misheard you. I thought you just called me short.
taehyung : ...i did
yoongi :
taehyung :
yoongi : *eye twitches*
seokjin : taehyung?
taehyung : yeah?
seokjin : i guess you should probably run.
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orchidyoonkook · 2 months
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It’s all about finding your equal opposite. To balance each other out. To be your calm in the storm. Or the glimpse of sun shining through the clouds that reminds you what’s on the other side.
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cherrysoulth · 1 year
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CRIMINAL SMIRK
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💕Pairing: Yoongi x Reader 
✏️Genre/au: Canon, Smut, Long time relationship AU
✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit
📝Wordcount: 1432
⚠️chapter warnings: Explicit smut
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Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁
Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)
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You were quietly sitting on his sofa as he kept on mixing on his board and computer, cursing low here and there. It still amazes you to see him work, hear the beats and music go through his headphones when he lowers them to tell you something. Always getting your full attention as he does so.
You heard the low and consistent beat, taking you out of your writing on the laptop, focusing your eyes on him. He hadn’t even turned around, just put them over his shoulders and exhaled extendedly. He was tired and frustrated, a combination you knew way too well. He turned, still not looking at you before raising his feline eyes.
“Could you leave me alone for a bit?” he asked, not surprising you. Knowing he wasn’t trying to be harsh or anything but that he really needed to be left alone. You closed your screen and picked up your laptop.
“No problem,” you told him. “Can I kiss you?” you wondered, eyes still on him. He put down his set and stood as a response.
When you got closer, you placed a hand on his nape and kissed him on the cheek at the opposite side before moving away to walk out. He stopped you by the wrist and pulled to peck you on the lips. But when he felt their warm texture, something in him raised and he gave in to a deeper kiss, parting your lips with his. He surprised himself by breathing erratically immediately. The days of isolation and hard work, starting to wreak havoc.
His taste and the way he was kissing you, how you felt his lower body press against yours, making your skin crawl and your stomach tense, had your legs weak at the knees. His passion soon led his lips to your neck and his body to push you in the sofa's direction again, his hands resting at your nape and lower back. His masculine scent filled the air as you took in the sight of his naked throat and clavicle, whilst his teeth nibbled at your throat.
He leaned you both on it. His body rests between your legs and over yours. Skin hungry of his ministrations when his hands moved to different horizons. One pulled the neck of your shirt to expose your shoulder and bite in it, while the other travelled down your knee to the convenience of your skirt.
You heard him huff a chuckle before he raised his face to yours with his gangster smirk, resting his upper weight on his forearm, looking down on you and sliding his other hand further underneath it to the italian lace underwear. He lowered his head, biting his lower lip, before looking at you again.
“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” he said, referring to the skirt. You swallowed and this time it was you who held your lower lip between your teeth and then smirked. As if it was true, as if it hadn’t been because it was new and you just couldn’t wait to put it on. He huffed a single chuckle. “Get ready then…” he said in his deepest tone, eliciting goosebumps from every place on your body.
Pulling down the waistband of your undergarments very slowly, he held his eyes on yours. The vandalic smile doing things to you that couldn't be put into words, but had an immediate bodily response that marked the fabric before he had fully separated it from your core. 
When he stood on his knees to get them completely off and saw the wetness in it, his smirk turned sharper and more lethal. He put the garment inside his pocket before his hands rested on your knees caressing his way to the back of your legs to pull them back up. He then lowered his upper body to lean and kiss one of them, while the other hand lowered to the back of your ass and squeezed it.
His lips trained down your body in soft wet kisses, until he reached the last strip of flesh before your groin. He nibbled, making you gasp.
His mouth was soon over your mound, making your hands close over the side and upper edges of the sofa. He kissed over your clit before pressing his tongue into it, making you whimper. His smirk, obvious against your lips before his tongue took possession of your very being. Flicking it with the right strength to make you moan loudly and send one hand to entangle in his orange hair. 
As he coaxed your orgasm, your moans almost turned into cries. The way he changed his pace suddenly and flicked in a different direction, making you find the edge and fall. Moaning highly, the orgasm hit you unparalleled as he kept his tongue technology going through it and gave a single lick on your entrance to taste what he'd provoked. 
When he stood on his knees again, he put his hands on your thighs and caressed them up and down, letting you catch your breath for a moment. But even with the satisfaction, you craved him deep. You craved the hot and hard shaft you could see drawing through his sweatpants. He chuckled to the way your eyes lingered over his lower body.
He looked at the door for a second, making sure the key was still there, that he had closed it. Then he slowly leaned over you.
"You are glowing," he whispered in your ear before kissing the juncture of your jaw and throat. 
"You make me," you replied, resting your hands on his neck. His, making your arms go around his shoulders as he moved to kiss you. You didn't hesitate to accept it, even when you could taste yourself a little. 
His tongue is your condemnation, no matter where he puts it. He made it dance with yours inside your mouth, until you moaned with the need for more. 
He didn't doubt to oblige, skillfully pulling down his pants while separating his lips just a little. Then retaking your mouth with a slow and careful kiss, while his concentration focused on leading his naked core through your entrance; slow and thoughtful with his movements. The moisture of your slick and how hot his handness felt sliding in, made you squirm. 
It had been too many days without having him. The kisses held between you, had turned into a prickling torture that you couldn't get relief from but you kept it cool for him to be focused on his work. 
He was too needy too. His shaft twitched twice as he penetrated you and he had to hold steady once he reached your end. Nose against nose, he moved while pressing his teeth together, before putting forehead against forehead. A low grunt escaping his throat through his nostrils, making you clench.
"Fuck…" he muttered. 
"It's okay, daddy. I got mine, you get yours. It's fair." you whispered against his mouth. He hesitated but you raised your hips encouraging him. 
Kissing you again, one of his hands took position on your hip, while the other kept holding his weight to not crush you. 
The pace was slow and measured, making love to you at the beginning. Cherishing you while gathering some composure for himself. Kissing your cheeks and nose on his way. 
When he felt his release back off, things took a twist. He allowed his upper body over yours, still slightly holding his weight, your chin resting on his shoulder as he pushed deeper. His hips rocking against yours, allowing zero openings, lethal. He kissed your head on the side, one last reminder of his care for you before his needs took over. 
His pace started quickening to the point of turning your moans into a single melody beheld between thrusts. A wild orgasm hitting you as he moved, making you cry his name and making him lose his pace for a second, feeling your walls pulsate and close around his shaft. Before resuming the pace and spilling white ropes of his essence, coating your walls, with sets of low groans. The twitches of his shaft, making you feel a strange pride.
Spent, you both stayed in that position. He kissed your cheek repeatedly while caressing your thighs and waist. You noticed him lingering on the touches, nuzzling over the skin of your throat, lengthening the moment. 
"I love you too." you whispered and felt his smile against your throat.
"I love you." he then mumbled with that low tone again, erupting your skin in emotional goosebumps.
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© 2021-2022 Cherry Soulth, all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.
I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~
Thank you @abitjess for the beta work 💜
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gilbertnatali-25 · 20 days
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Happy Birthday my love 💓
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