#favourites!myg
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min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅵ)
she's back bet you didn't think i'd post another list this quick but since they've been building so much i figured why not soooo this week is yoongs and next week with be taehyung i've been reading alot lately so i wanted to share them asap so before my week gets hectic again i thought i'd post it, i honestly loved these ones i am exploring a little bit for with certain genres and i must say it like a whole new world i'm enjoying it and i hope you like them too. remember too always show lots of love and support to these amazing writers they dedicated so much time to writing these fics and they are absolute geniuses and deserve the world for sharing them with us so please follow them and take a look at their masterlists cause i will 100% guarantee that you will find your very own favourites there as well, leave the a little comment i know they will appreciate it so much and send them all the love in the world... i will reblog these through out the week and as usual minors do not interact i will block those who do.... happy reading everyone see you next week with taehyung's list and if you have anything you would like to share with me or you just wanna ramble about a fic you loved my asks are always open i love hearing from you🖤✨
a- angst s- smut f- fluff
series
stalemate by @shina913 f s a
↬"The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."
oh, my darling by @yoongiofmine f s a
↬ starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?
little bit of your heart by @/yoongiofmine f s a ft. jjk
↬You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it?
sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a ft. jjk
↬ in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...
after hours by @archivedkookie f s a
↬ staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.
Vows by @hamsterclaw f s a
↬ You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.
sutures by @farfromsugafanfic f s a
↬ There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?
and so it goes by @prodagustd f s a
↬ You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it.
collateral by @theharrowing f s a ft. jjk & knj
↬ Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.
till death do us part by @colormepurplex2 s a
↬ Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.
grey area by @blushoseoks s a ft. jhs
↬ you spent the days staring at your wrist and tracing the skin where your soulmate’s name would one day appear. the nights were for telling your wrist about your day, as if the person whose name would one day stain itself there, like red wine to a dress, could possibly hear you. for years you thought up countless scenarios, imagined numerous possibilities, formulated conversations and rehearsed them over and over, until your mouth ran dry. outcomes and conclusions performed in your head on a repetitive loop. but out of everything you thought up, out of all of the time spent towards thinking about your soulmate, about what could possibly occur, none of it could ever prepare you for what would actually end up being. none of it ever came close to the way it happened when you finally met him. and now, after it’s all been said and done, you were left asking yourself one thing, and one thing only: “was it really worth all of this in the end?”
isn't it romantic by @jeonqkooks f s a
↬ Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.
Flux by @yoonia f s a ft. jjk
↬ One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. (poly au)
mean yoongi by @jjkpls f s
↬ Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.
pretend by @gimmesumsuga s a
↬ “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” idol au infidelity
naughty little kitten by @jungkooksxo s a ft ksj
↬ Jin figures out that you’re super into the idea of Yoongi listening in on you two having sex. Yoongi is super into listening to you and Jin having sex. Jin invites Yoongi to come play with his naughty little kitten.
babydoll by @jungcock s a
↬ Your childhood crush, now famous and successful, comes to visit you while you’re drunk and have a lot to prove.
eleven months by @bratkook f s a
↬ it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.
pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a
↬ Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.
darksided by @eoieopda f s a
↬ It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.
three squeezes by @nomnomsik s a ft jhs
↬ Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok… and he does too.
one-shot
bad decisions by @jjungkookislife f s
↬ Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?
breakfast in bed by @joonbird f s
↬ “Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”
Tricks of the Trade by @stutterfly f s a
↬ The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.
threads by @yoonia s a ft. knj
↬ Life is full of surprises, just like how people are full of secrets. Just when you had thought you have been lucky enough to have your life figured out, life decides to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. And there is nothing you could do to avoid it, except to hope that you could hold your secrets as tightly as you possibly could before everything blows up into smithereens.
under the willow tree by @orchidyoonkook f a
↬ The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?
mami by kithtaehyung s ft. knj
↬ you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.
the devil wears valentino by @orchidyoonkook f s a
↬ Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.
angel by @sailoryooons f s
↬ Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences
a boy like you by @cinnaminsvga f
↬ 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.}
last nite by @tayegi s a
↬ This is a zombie apocalypse AU based on The Walking Dead, The Stand, World War Z, and elements of Attack of Titan
zombie bites by @luffles424 f s a
↬ Your friends have always been willing to assist you when you need a model to practice makeup on. And with the upcoming zombie film on campus is no difference. But something feels different this time, can a zombie movie be more than just a zombie movie?
heaven's winter by @jksangelic f s a
↬ your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.
heavy sugar by @kinktae s
↬ The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.
all that holly, jolly shit by @daechwitatamic f s
↬You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?
calling the shots by @chans-room f
↬ College basketball captain Yoongi
until death by @kpopfanfictrash s a
↬ Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan. When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.
whatta catch by @aredheadedmess f a
↬ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.
shatter me, embrace me by @95rkives s
↬you longed for him, yearning for love, yet all that awaited you was heartbreak.
you're losing me by @/archivedkookie a
↬ ❝ He’s losing you, and yet, he lets the flower die in front of his eyes instead of doing everything to save it. Alternatively, Yoongi and you are losing your love toward each other. ❞
spotlight by @back2bluesidex f a
↬ No matter how much you run away from Yoongi, Yoongi always comes right back to you.
all the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders f a
↬ After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill – one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back. inspired by 24K Magic by Bruno Mars.
now we reign by @/oddinary4bts f s a
↬ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?
stay by sugarwithtea f s a
↬ what happens when you get stranded in a remote town with no place to live except for a lodge owned by a dangerously handsome but annoying man? yeah, a lot.
when the stars align by @itskimtaehyung f
↬ With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought...
egotstic by @pasteljeon s a ft. knj
↬ The timing was never right. He loved you when you were kids, knees scraped and cheeks red. You loved him when pimples bloomed across his skin, voice cracking and he found solace in the scribbled lines in his notebook. The stars never seemed to align for the two of you, but perhaps it was because you were meant for someone else.
on the court by @centerhaechan f
↬ As captain of your school's winning women's basketball team, it is only understood that you despise the men's basketball team and their captain. Your main rival, Min Yoongi, enjoys testing your patience while he attempts to lead his own team to a championship victory. Your coaches believe you both have problems with teamwork, and insist that working together will produce a promising solution.
sugar by @zehakoo f s
↬ desperately in need of sugar to make coffee in order to ease down your headache, you find yourself knocking on a strangers door who happens to be your best friend’s friend and the finest man you’ve ever encountered.
from the ashes by @fortunexkookie s a
↬ Someone is sobbing ugly, wrecked sounds that shatter the silence in the room. You need them to stop; it’s distracting and you need to focus. You need to clean the ash from his skin. You need to comb the knots from his hair. You need to dress his beautiful body in something befitting the king you know he is… but the sobbing is too loud, and your vision is blurry. It takes Yoongi wiping your tears away for you to realize that the gasping cries echoing off the stone are coming from you.
the dark by @/bratkook s
↬ your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?
Triplicity by @kainks ft. jhs
↬ Distance is a cruel thing, and when you find yourself going astray, they are there to help remind you of just where exactly you belong.
fermata by @jeongi f s
↬ fer·ma·ta: from fermare, it means to stay or to stop. min yoongi teaches you exactly how to let go.
private lessons by @dntaewithluv f s
↬ Your little sister finds it odd how you’ve been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn’t heard you actually play even once…
first love by @geniuslab f s a
↬You learn a lot of new things in your first year of university, including what it feels like to fall in love.
↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library
#kiki!fic!rec#kiki's library#yoongi#yoongi fic recs#bts fic recs#bts yoongi#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi:fluff#yoongi:smut#yoongi:angst#yoongi:oneshot#yoongi:series#bts smut#yoongi series#yoongi smut#min yoongi#min yoongi fanfiction#favourites!myg#yoongi x reader#yoongi scenarios#yoongi x yn#yoongi fic#yoongi bts#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst
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💕
#he’s my favourite actually#min yoongi#suga#yoongiedit#bts#btsgif#dailybts#dailybangtan#userbangtan#cyphernet#yoonkookclub#trackofthesoul#annietrack#heyryen#useryoonqiful#userdinnerthing#userkosmos#*mine#myg#though of doing this moving photocards series BUT I do not have energy for that#which is sad cause I love that idea#and I want to show off how lucky I was with this pull 👀#so here we are
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oh my god i’m going to kiss him
#I STOLE THIS OFF TWT IDK WHOSE IT IS#mom i love him#like. fr.#this is my favourite picture in the world?????#myg
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The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG
Title: The Devil Wears Valentino
Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff
Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 10,488
Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM
A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!
A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much
A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.
Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....
Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.
Intimate. That would be a better choice.
From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.
The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.
You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.
He’ll be back for another soon.
While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.
Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.
Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.
And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.
Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.
Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.
Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.
Most of the time.
You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.
“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”
“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.
Fucking incubi demons…
You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.
You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.
You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”
Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.
Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.
They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.
It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.
You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.
“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.
And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.
“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”
There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.
“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.
It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.
Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.
Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.
Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.
It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.
He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.
“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”
To which you think again, fucking incubi…
Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.
You learned your lesson.
So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!
You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.
From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.
Which can only mean one fucking thing.
You just lost all your tips for the night.
Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.
Fuck.
“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.
“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.
You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.
“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’
You know exactly where it is.
No one else will touch it.
Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.
No one serves him but you.
But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.
You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.
You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.
After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,
“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”
He didn’t take another breath.
A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.
“Thanks,” You’d said.
“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.
Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.
But he was more than pleased.
After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.
He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.
Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.
A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.
Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;
‘One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.’
You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.
‘Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,
Eleven for health,
Twelve for wealth,’
You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.
“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”
He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”
You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.
“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”
He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”
“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”
You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.
No one calls the Devil by his first name.
Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.
And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.
No one except you.
What a funny little exception you are.
Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”
You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.
You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.
“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.
Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.
“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.
He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…
“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.
Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.
You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.
Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…
Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.
You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.
The King of Hell.
He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.
Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.
Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.
He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.
You have to stay away from him.
But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.
As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.
It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.
There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.
“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”
Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.
Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.
The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.
Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.
You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.
All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.
And maybe he is.
But not to you.
The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.
You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.
The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.
And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.
It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.
You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.
Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.
They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.
All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.
Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.
Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.
You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.
You needed this.
A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.
You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.
“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.
“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.
You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”
Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.
In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.
Yoongi.
God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.
Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.
Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.
And he looks like sin incarnate.
Fitting.
Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?
Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.
Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.
When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.
Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.
Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.
They were all you.
Maybe his plan was working after all…
“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.
What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.
“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”
He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.
“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.
A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.
“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”
Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.
Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.
Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.
You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.
“What do you think?”
Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.
“May I touch?”
You don’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.
“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.
This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”
Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.
Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.
The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.
“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..
Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.
Beautiful.
“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.
“My birthstone,” you reply.
“Your birthstone.”
You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.
“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”
“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.
Makes you wonder what he promised.
Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.
Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.
Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.
Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.
What is he doing to you?
“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.
“Mmm?”
“Would you like to dance?”
Fuck would you ever, but wait—
“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.
Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.
“Is that something you’d be interested in?”
“Yes.”
You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.
Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.
Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.
They don’t know about Yoongi.
They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.
You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.
You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.
You’ve decided.
To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.
To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.
You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.
But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.
You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.
“Let’s go to yours.”
“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”
Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.
“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.
Fuck, you don’t want to wait.
And apparently neither does Yoongi.
“Do you trust me?” He asks.
“Yes, but what does tha–”
“Close your eyes for me, Love.”
Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.
So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.
You trust Yoongi.
“That's a good girl.”
One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.
Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?
But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.
What?
“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.
Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.
“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.
Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.
He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.
“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”
You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.
There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.
Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.
Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.
“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.
He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.
Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.
You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”
You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.
“Please what, Love?”
“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”
“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”
“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.
“There she is.”
Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.
They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.
Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.
“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”
His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”
You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.
“I need to hear it.”
“I understand.”
“Understand what?” He pushes.
“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.
“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.
The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.
“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”
Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”
He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.
“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”
Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”
His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.
“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.
Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.
If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.
Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.
“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”
He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.
He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.
“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.
“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.
He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.
“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”
Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.
“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”
“And if I do?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”
Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”
“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.
And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.
Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.
Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.
“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.
Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”
“Whatever you want, Angel.”
Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.
“Fuck—”
Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.
“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”
Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.
“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”
The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.
Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.
“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”
His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.
You’re the most powerful person here.
You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.
And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.
“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.
Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.
“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”
His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.
“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”
“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.
You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.
Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.
This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.
This is about you.
And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.
You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.
You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.
Perfect in every single way.
“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”
He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.
“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”
You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”
“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.
“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.
“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”
The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.
Not yet.
You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.
Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.
Ever.
And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.
He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.
There was only you.
Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.
And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.
It’s time for him to finally claim you back.
“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”
“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”
Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.
“Only for you, Yoongi.”
His thrusts stutter.
“Fuck!”
He’s coming.
He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.
It’s the first time he’s said your name.
And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.
You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.
Whatever you want. Whatever you need.
It’s yours.
He’ll make it so.
At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.
He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.
You got exactly what you wanted.
He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.
And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.
“What changed?”
“Hmm?”
“What about tonight made you change your mind?”
You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”
That seductive smirk makes an appearance.
“Yes.”
“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”
Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.
“Next time,” he says. A promise.
You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.
“What about you?” you ask.
“What about me?”
“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”
He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.
“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”
“My soul?”
“Mhm.”
“You’ve never asked for mine before.”
“Never needed it.”
At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”
“You.”
Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.
You just know it.
“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”
You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.
You never expected anything like that.
You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.
Kindness. Patience.
The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.
Because of you.
“I don't know what to say.”
“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”
You can do that.
“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.
Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.
“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.
“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.
He was yours now.
The Devil was yours.
King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.
“Oh thank fuck.”
“Not thank God?” you tease.
Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”
A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
#yoongi#min yoongi#suga#min suga#agust d#bts yoongi#bts min yoongi#bts min suga#yoongi x oc#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#min yoongi x oc#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x y/n#min yoongi x you#min yoongi fluff#min yoongi smut#min yoongi angst#min yoongi fic#yoongi smut#yoongi fluff#yoongi au#bts fanfic#bts fic#yoongi scenarios#bts imagine#yoongi imagine#bts smut#bts x fem!reader
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My personal favourites😍
Will keep on adding more slowly🤗
Mutual Help || JJK @personasintro
Monachopsis || MYG @personasintro
Taste of a poison paradise || JJK @dollfaceksj
Reminder || JJK @dollfaceksj
The Pink Pill || JJK @dollfaceksj
Blackjack || JJK @kpopfanfictrash
Mirrors || JJK @yoonia
Room 109 || JJK @lavishedinjimin
After Hours || JJK @lovelyglares
Drown in your body || JJK @sparklingchim
Visions || JJK @trivia-yandere
Nefarious || JJK @trivia-yandere
Slave 19990319 || JJK @explicit-tae
Cruel intentions || JJK @explicit-tae
Cozy thief || JJK @bratkook
Second Chances || JJK @parkhabits
Pink Ribbons || JJK @kooeater
Strawberry Kisses || JJK @kimnjss
Castaway || JJK @hamsterclaw
Garden of Red Petals || JJK @helenazbmrskai
Ace || JJK @hijoonie
The Five Year Plan || JJK @jknoah
Try above mentioned authors other books as well they're too good to be ignored😘
You can check my wattpad reading list too @Sugatradamus
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baby, don't go | myg
➥pairing | ex!min yoongi x f!reader, mentioned f!reader x omc
➥word count | 5.1k
➥warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, squirting, hand job, finger fucking, porn w/ plot, angst w/ a happy ending, alcohol, exes to lovers, implied cheating (omc is a fuckboy), implied getting back together (reader & yoongi still low key love each other), idol!yoongi
➥summary | "hii can I request for an exes to lovers trope with yoongi 😭💖 lovee your ficss"
you find out your boyfriend is cheating on you. thankfully your ex Yoongi is more than happy to distract you.
➥notes | hope you enjoy this anon 😘💚 omc & ofc are named after characters from one of my favourite k-dramas (personal taste iykyk)
💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
Standing beside you, your friend Kae-In takes a swig of whatever's in her cup - a sickly sweet concoction of fruity soju and Chilsung, most likely - and coolly surveys the backyard.
Small groups of people dot the manicured lawn, others lounging by the fire as they catch up with one another. It's been far too long since everyone's schedules aligned like this.
Years in fact, and there are several who came in from out of town.
Ordinarily you'd be over the moon, but as it were you can barely drum up enough false excitement for your best friend. Let alone others you haven't seen in forever.
Cocking her hip, Kae-In puckers her mouth. "The alcohol isn't even that good." She sighs, pretty face scrunching in disappointment. "Some party this is turning out to be."
Your hard cider, still more than half-full, hides an awkward, ill-fitting smile.
Having nursed your own drink for the last hour, whatever might've been enjoyable about it is long gone. Any refreshing coolness and bright, punchy taste replaced by amber liquid far past room temperature in your clammy palm.
In fact, the fizzy warmth and tart aftertaste of moldering apples turns your stomach with every half-hearted sip.
"At least there's cute guys here - some of them have really grown up."
Her breath ruffles the fringe of her bangs when she huffs, casting an eye to the glass bottle strangled in your grip.
"Are you sure you don't want something a little stronger?"
You shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine - gotta be the DD just in case, y'know?"
"Girl, you're ALWAYS the DD. C'mon, you gotta live a little sometimes."
The nonchalant scolding stings, even if it's meant almost entirely in jest but it's not Kae-In's fault. She doesn't know. No one does. You couldn't muster up the courage to tell her the truth.
Not yet.
It's still too fresh. The wound too raw to go poking around with clumsy fingers.
"Don't be like that," you say with a faltering smile. "I'm having fun."
LIAR.
In actuality, you're a few frayed threads away from snapping. Stuck clinging to the edge of sanity by the fingernails as you battle back tides of crippling grief and blinding rage.
Have been since the first few messages came rolling in; questions with videos attached. There's a part of you grateful they reached out, while another altogether wishes you hadn't seen.
At least not until morning.
Would one more night spent in ignorant bliss have been too much to ask for?
Now you're riding a corkscrew of emotion, one that roils and chafes as ceaseless images parade past your eyelids with every blink. Each one as crisp and clear as the first time you pressed play.
The swirling lights, the heady thrum of bodies. A darkened corner. Your boyfriend of three years who said he couldn't make it. His hand sneaking beneath the hem of a cheap, glittery skirt. The dip of his head as he tucks into the curve of a neck, mouth open and smiling against bare skin.
You shudder, stomach rebelling. When you swallow, it's like trying to down buckets of sand.
Kae-In, none the wiser, flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Well, that makes one of us. I guess." Shrugging, she turns to you and asks with a furrowed brow, "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... a little off."
Panic grabs you by the throat.
This was supposed to be a night full of fun and laughter. You're not supposed to be suffocating in a crowded backyard. On the brink of tears and trying to act like your life hasn't imploded.
Alone - by your own doing, which is even worse - to deal with the crushing weight of an inevitable breakup. The painful extrication of two lives entwined.
How a relationship three years in the making can be shattered in a minute and forty-five seconds is mind boggling. You had it all, and now...
You thought you were going to marry him.
The whiplash of it all almost makes you laugh but only so you don't break down in great, heaving sobs. A heartbreak you're not sure you'll ever recover from. Not for the loss of him but rather the decimation of your trust.
"I'm okay, promise! No need to worry."
The lie weighs heavy on your tongue. Tastes of ash as the words you really want to say hover in the back of your throat, a breath away. Only they can't make it past your lips, stuck to your teeth like hard candy.
"It's just been one of those days."
Your shoulders shoot towards your ears when she hums in response. Fingernails picking at the corner of the sweating cider label so you don't have to meet Kae-In's piercing gaze. You know she can see right through you, and you hate it.
What started as a fun night of planned mayhem turned into desperate distractions though this party has done very little in terms of brightening your mood.
Instead, watching everyone you know have a good time while you stand on the side lines, a stranger in a sea of people, feels more akin to rubbing salt in an open wound.
Miserable but acting like you’re not; waves of bitter loneliness threatening to pull you under because you don’t want to ruin the night.
“Is this because Chang-ryul couldn’t make it?” Kae-In pats your back sympathetically. “What bullshit excuse did he give you this time? I swear, he always does this. Just wait. I’m gonna hit him next time I see him.”
Oh, you don’t even know, you think. You’ll definitely want to do more than hit him.
Your heart throbs at the sound of his name, and isn’t that funny? Such a simple thing - nothing but syllables and letters strung together - and yet it has the power to unmake you completely.
Your tongue swells as you struggle to swallow. Words burn like bile as you force out a laugh; brittle, scraped up from the depths of your chest
“I’d pay to see that,” you croak. Your knuckles ache from how tightly you’re gripping the bottle. “But - no. C-Chang-ryul has nothing to do with it.”
You hate that you stutter over his name.
And perhaps that’s why you don’t want to tell Kae-In just yet.
She’s always hated him.
Always said he was no good. Just another fuckboy looking for beds to warm and hearts to break. And she’s right.
God, why does she have to be right?
You know she’d never hold it over you, but the thought of admitting it - out loud - makes you want to vomit all over your shoes. You need time to stitch your edges back together. Too raw and ragged.
You only just found out.
Your pride can’t handle any more hits right now.
She thumbs her nose with an inelegant snort. “Whatever you say. I could take him in a fight. That boy ain’t shit.”
Your laugh startles you - the first genuine one of the evening - and you shake your head fondly. A soft smile tugs at your lips.
“Oh, no doubt. But really, I’ve just been in a weird mood.”
The twist of her lips shows she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, but she’s kind enough not to press. Instead, she spends the next while distracting you with tales of her various escapades of the week.
And it helps for a time, truly.
But then you feel a buzz against your thigh, a ding echoing up from your pocket. Your stomach turns to lead, drops to your feet. Without looking at the screen, you pull the cell out of your pocket with shaky hands and quickly flick the ringer off.
Meanwhile, Kae-In watches silently with sharp eyes, and an even sharper frown though she declines to comment on your behavior.
“Anyway,” she continues once she has your attention, “as I was saying, did you see little Ji-Seok? Dude shot up like a tree! Last time I saw him he was as big as a bean sprout.”
You hum, worlds away.
“You could at least act like you’re paying attention,” she sucks her teeth before a smirk starts to slowly tug at her lips, “How about we talk about something - or someone - I know you’ll be interested in?”
Guilt sparks but slowly gives way to dread. You know that expression. Have gotten into trouble more times than you can count because of it.
Heart tattooing a rhythm against your rib cage, you sputter, “Oh no. No! Do not look at me like that.”
“C’mo-on!” she wheedles. “You’re absolutely right. We should be talking about,” she points at someone across the yard with her cup, “Yoongi instead.”
Currently leaning back against a stone wall making up part of the fence, Yoongi nurses a beer. Sticking out like a sore thumb now that he’s making it big as an idol, no longer as mundane as the rest of them.
Hushed whispers follow his every move, his bleached hair and flashy outfit commanding all sorts of covert attention.
The sharp cut of his shirt flatters his lean frame, the black leather jacket over top emphasizing the width of his shoulders. Dark jeans cling to his legs, as tight as a second skin, and causing your attention to stray where it shouldn’t.
And his eyes - oh, how you ever forgot is beyond you.
Dark, hooded, deep, and hungry; intense as they drag over the planes of your face like the caress of his fingers.
Shit.
You shove Kae-In’s hand down with a loud smack before she makes an even bigger fool out of you in front of another ex.
“What the hell are you doing?” You hiss. “That’s so rude!”
Not to mention embarrassing as fuck.
“Y’know,” she pauses to wiggle her brows and shoot you an impish grin, “I bet Yoongi would be more than happy to remind you of how rude he can be.”
You smother a groan in your hands, heartache temporarily forgotten. “I can’t believe you. Seriously. We’re no longer friends.”
“Bitch, you love me. And anyway, you know what I can’t believe?” She asks. “You!”
She gestures towards him again amid your flailing attempts to stop her. “Look at him. Like goddamn, you had it good.”
You take a sip of cider to give your hands something to do, nearly blanching at the warm liquid. Refusing to respond or look up as the topic of conversation watches like a hawk, gaze heavy.
How can he still make you weak-kneed after all this time?
He wasn’t even touching you and you still feel his presence down to your toes, setting your teeth on edge.
You hear your own heartbeat, your breathing shaky, sparks of awareness dancing along your spine. Heat creeps into the apples of your cheeks.
“Knock it off, I’m serious.”
“No, when are you going to get that Chang-ryul isn’t good for you?”
You swallow roughly, all the moisture leaving your mouth.
“Yoongi was the best boyfriend you ever had and treated you the way you deserve. And you know he’s never been interested in anyone but you. Hell, he’s barely looked away from you since he got here and the break-up was years ago.”
You shift, perspiration breaking out on your brow. “Can we please stop talking about this?”
“When will you give it up?” She blows a raspberry, shaking her head. “I know you regret how it went down between you guys. Now that he’s here - when you finally have a chance to make it right you just - just - ugh!”
Shooting her a weak half-smile and a shrug, you turn your attention to the small glowing fire pit.
Other’s are gathered around it, relishing in the glow of warmth that wars against the balmy summer breeze cutting through the air. Focusing on the dance and flicker of the flames is a needed moment of peace in entropy.
Though you know it isn’t going to last - not with a motormouth for a friend.
“So-o, what are you waiting for?”
“Sorry?”
She nods towards Yoongi subtly.
He’s finally busy with his own conversation, his gummy smile a quick flash of brightness. “When are you going to stick it to Chang-ryul and hop on that dick?”
“Oh my god!”
Kae-In shrugs. “What.”
“Don’t 'what' me. Seriously?”
A bony elbow digs between your ribs. You wheeze.
“C’mon,” she says, “You already know it’s good with him, and you deserve someone who’s there for you 110%. Someone who will treat you right. You know I worry about you.”
A wave of emotions threatens to completely drown you in that moment, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Her tender concern - her care - feels altogether too much and not enough.
As overwhelming as a tsunami; your heart a raw, exposed nerve.
All you’ve ever wanted was to be loved.
To feel like someone’s first and only choice.
You used to think Chang-ryul was someone who could provide that. What a fool you’ve been. Men like him don’t fall in love, they only pretend to.
They sneak inside your heart and take what they want from your bed. To him, you’re nothing but a fun little stop; a footnote, read and forgotten.
Your heart squeezes, shuddering from a pain your palm can’t soothe away.
It’s a terrible idea.
But maybe…
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to lick your wounds with someone you know cares about you. Has always cared about you, and probably always will.
Clearing your throat, you consider his profile from beneath your lashes.
Yoongi's always made you feel wanted. Looked after you as though you were something rare and precious.
It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that.
Somehow, some way, he senses you looking because he pauses mid-sentence.
Turns to meet you head-on, tracing your face with what can only be called greed. Stopping short when they catch on the lip trapped between your teeth.
Something akin to hunger cuts across his face.
His brows dip low, a palpable heat flooding the inky depths of his eyes. Shadows deepen the lines of his face, the shifting firelight highlighting the flex of a jawline for days, burning halo gold in his hair.
It’s a look you’re intimately familiar with.
Usually preceding a hand-shaking, mind-numbing fuck session where his cock gets as deep as it can, rutting hard and fast, bringing you over the edge again and again until you’re left a wrecked mess.
Your heart jumps, gallops headlong into a rapid beat.
You feel the rush of blood in your chest, every breath stuttered, stomach lurching. Shaking. Jittery. Tongue tied in a thousand knots and you haven’t even said a word.
It was much easier to pretend you weren’t so magnetically drawn to Yoongi when you weren’t riding the single’s train. When he was away in Seoul chasing after his dreams.
Now that he’s got downtime and your relationship has hit a brick wall? His mere presence sears you to the bone. Drags you in like a black hole.
And that?
So not good.
Swallowing roughly, you tear your attention away. You’d forgotten how intense and blindly bright he can be.
There’s a throb developing in your temple, sharp little darts of pain lancing through your skull. An impending headache if you don’t get some air that doesn’t taste like wood-smoke and cheap alcohol.
“I think I’m gonna head in for a bit. Need to get away.”
You shake your head and toss your bottle into the bin on the way inside, Kae-In shouting her acknowledgement with a thumbs up. Makes you promise to contact her in case of any change in plans.
Nearly everyone’s outside so it should be less crowded, more quiet. Most importantly, away from Yoongi and that penetrating stare which makes you more flustered than you care to admit.
Alas, the kitchen isn’t empty not for long.
You’re lounging against the counter, elbows bent, head rolled back and stinging eyes closed when the back door creaks open. Biting off a groan, you swivel your head to the side.
When you see it’s Yoongi who follows you in, you almost slip and brain yourself on the tile. Mouth dry, palms sweaty, heart beating out of control; scrambling into a more flattering posture while patting down your hair.
He chuckles, his nose scrunched and smile coy.
Seeing him happy always makes you tender, weak.
It seems that hasn’t changed a bit.
No amount of pictures or videos do it justice. Granted, Yoongi looks good any time, any day. But seeing his whole face light up like that in person? Utterly priceless.
It’s a struggle to breathe properly around the lump forming in your throat.
Of course, it has to be him.
Wiping your palms off on your thighs, you greet him with an awkward wave, “Uhhh, hey - hey there, Yoongi.”
Oh my god. Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission.
“Y’know what,” you say, “I was just about to head back outside…”
As you pass by, he catches your arm.
Long fingers curl around your wrist, callouses dragging across your pulse. Your gut clenches, an unexpected bloom of warmth shooting through your core at the sight of his broad palm holding you captive.
His grip is firm but loose enough that you could pull away.
All it serves to do is remind you of nights spent beneath his body, the slide of sweat-slick skin, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, pussy filled to the brim with cock. His rough voice music to your ears, prideful as he gloats about how well you’re taking him.
"Leaving so soon?” He asks silkily.
A hard tug sends you slamming into the wall of his chest.
Air rushes from your lungs, your hands trapped against his collarbones. Firm muscles contract beneath your palms, his body shoving into your touch.
Twisting your fingers in the soft cotton of his shirt, you look at him from beneath your lashes. Your voice whisper soft when you say, “Yoongi…”
His dark eyes, the colour of a rich espresso, track the path of your tongue as you wet your lips. Fingers drag over the soft line of your neck, tracing your fluttering pulse.
Touch feather light as it stops by the corner of your mouth, pressing down on the swell of your lip.
“I haven’t said hello yet.”
Eyes wide, all you do is watch and wait with baited breath. Stunned into silence at his proximity. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close, the smell of his expensive cologne nostalgic.
Your body recognizes his, responding all the same. The connection between you electric, overwhelmingly so.
His head bows, bleached strands brushing your forehead. The tip of his nose rubs yours. You get lost in counting his eyelashes, tracing the bridge of his nose to the carved slope of his cheeks.
Surrounded by him, the urge to resist what’s happening is nearly non-existent. Though you wish it wasn’t so easy to be caught by him.
“One of the guys said something interesting,” he says, his breath ghosting across your face; mint and beer. “It's about you actually.”
He flashes the smile that sends your heart soaring, your stomach flipping.
The slightest peek of a metal chain resting in the crook of his neck, surrounded by a very tempting patch of skin you want to taste, has you a little dumbfounded, absentminded.
“Oh?”
You really hope you don’t sound as frazzled as you feel but the haughty superiority of his slow appraisal of your body, the cocksure smirk on his lips states otherwise.
You really wish you could knock him down a peg but confidence looks amazing on him.
Always has.
“They said you have a boyfriend now. Is that true?”
You manage the slightest shake of your head in the negative - no, not anymore - your heart thundering in your ears.
Your breath catches in anticipation just before Yoongi closes the remaining inches between you with a hum of approval.
His head tilts to the side as he slots your mouths together in a kiss that’s got your toes curling. A filthy wet slide of lips, his the slightest bit chapped, send you under, liquid warmth filling your belly.
You inhale sharply, a moan vibrating against his lips.
Melting into the cage of his arms as his hands clamp down on your hips possessively, tugging you closer. Pressed stem to stern like this there’s no hiding the evidence of his desire.
He’s already half-hard in his jeans, his erection pressing against the zipper.
His eyes are hooded when he pulls away.
“Wanna take this somewhere a little more private, baby?” Yoongi asks, running his nose up the length of your neck and inhaling.
How is this my life, you think, dazed.
His hips grind forward against you so there’s no mistaking what you’re dealing with. “It’ll be just like old times.”
After an awkward fumble and an elbow to the side, you settle on the downstairs bathroom. He follows, quickly pinning you to the door while struggling to toss his leather jacket over the sink.
With a flick of the lock, you’re finally alone without any possible interruption. The door muffles most of the ruckus outside, leaving you hyper aware of every hurried breath, every low-throated murmur.
For a long while it’s nothing but a mess of lips, his body molding to yours. Easy to fall back into the old rhythms of your relationship as though you never left it.
He holds you down.
His fingers in your hair, on your jaw. His tongue gliding over your lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it slide back out through his teeth.
You meet him kiss for kiss, your hands finding their way into his back pockets, tugging, groping, loving how he bucks up into the cradle of your hips in response.
A sweet ache settles low and deep.
“Yoongi,” you sigh. “Fuck, I forgot how much you like to tease.”
His thumb circles your nipple through your shirt, teasing it into a sensitive, stiff peak that shows through the thin fabric.
The caresses send soft pulses straight to your clit, the intensity getting stronger and stronger the rougher he is.
Before long, you’re aware of how achingly empty you are.
Yoongi nips the corner of your jaw.
“Never forgot how fun teasing you is,” he murmurs into the silk of your skin. “How wet you get for me.”
“Shit, you can’t just say something like that.”
“Can’t I?” His laugh, genuine and vibrant, sounds through his chest and into yours. “You can bitch all you want, but I know you love it.”
A smile, all teeth.
“Isn’t that right, baby?”
You glare at him weakly through half lidded eyes.
Two can play that game.
“Fuck!” Yoongi bites out, those impossibly dark eyes sliding shut when you reach down to palm him through his jeans.
His breath whooshes from him in a loud exhale, his jaw working back and forth. “That’s cheating.”
You smirk, feeling him throb in your hand.
”What were you saying, Yoongs?” Humming, you rub your chest against his, using a fingertip to trace the outline of his shaft. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
Spearing you with a weighted look, Yoongi shoves you back into the door harder than before, the wood creaking under the pressure. Fist resting on the frame next to your head, his body cages you in.
Every shuddered inhale has the planes of his firm chest pressing into yours with the expansion of his lungs. His hips buck up into the softness of your palm with a grunt.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, pretty girl,” he cautions.
Competitiveness is a gift and a curse.
Not one to be outdone, you brush away any lingering reservations - which being honest, there weren’t many left. His relieved groan when you tug out his cock reverberates through you.
Shit, that’s so unfair.
Yoongi already sounds wrecked yet you’ve barely touched him. How the fuck are you going to get through this without completely combusting when he actually cums?
Thinking that maybe focusing on what you’re doing will help, you look down.
Big mistake.
Dark designer jeans circle his thighs, low enough for his cock to spring free.
Flushed, curved towards his belly, the head swollen and sticky with pre-cum. The shaft a decent handful that pulses when your palm skims the side.
Feminine appreciation at the sight has velvet heat pooling between your thighs, pussy clenching at the thought of him inside you.
Sex with him was always stupidly good.
All those veiled lyrics about his skill in the bedroom far too accurate for comfort.
Since you broke up, you haven’t been with anyone that comes close to his ability in getting you off.
He’s ruined you.
His face burrows into the crook of your neck with a low groan. His breath puffs across your skin, shivers racing down your spine.
Low voice full of grit, he says, “Shit, baby, that feels…”
Hot palms anchor themselves to your hips.
“Wait a sec,” he says, body twitching with aborted thrusts, strong fingers kneading. “Wanna do you too.”
Heart jumping, you let go of him long enough to yank your shirt over your head and kick off your pants before returning your hand to his cock.
In the meantime, he rucks his shirt up under his armpits. You can’t help but make a noise in the back of your throat as the length of his torso is exposed.
All that soft, smooth skin stretching over his stomach as he flexes. You have to fight down the urge to run your tongue along the outline of his hip.
Mouth slack, Yoongi pushes up the cups of your bra. Watches laser-focused on the bounce of your tits as they drop free, subtly swaying with every jerk of your wrist.
His hips fuck up into the circle of your hand while one of his own inches down to brush the crease of your thigh. Your hips tilt towards his touch, desperate for friction.
“Oh god.” He moans, calloused fingers dipping between your folds. “You’re so wet for me.”
You wiggle, whining against his lips as you meet in a messy kiss. His touch is light, gentle, barely there as he traces the length of your slit.
You’re trembling, skin too tight, body feverish. “Stop teasing, I want you inside me.”
Those seem to be the magic words because Yoongi gives a rumble of approval, using his thumb to spread slick over your swollen clit in tight circles.
Heat coils in your belly, electricity racing down your spine. Your thighs splay as wide as they can, making room for his hand.
His knuckles brush your skin.
Dipping down to your entrance, Yoongi works on spreading you open with shallow thrusts until you take three fingers comfortably.
Your needy sighs and soft moans bounce off the walls.
His low murmurs right in your ear as the pads stroke your walls, his wrist flexing. He’s hitting all the right spots, still remembering how to get you off years after the fact.
You’re quickly turning weak-kneed and wet eyed.
“Fuck, Yoongs, right there,” you keen, baring down on the digits nudging your g-spot, your grip tightening around his shaft.
You grind your palm over the swollen tip, gathering beads of pre-cum.
He hisses, thrusts off beat.
Fingers nudge up suddenly, pressing deep and holding in retaliation. White lightening crackles behind your eyelids, thighs twitching, mouth dropping open.
“Yeah, just like that, pretty girl.”
Your world narrows down to every filthy slide of his cock in your hand, every gush of slick as he stuffs fingers into you over and over again until you’re a writhing mess against the door.
Your nerve endings are alive with pleasure, the stimulation too much and not enough.
“Please, don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, doubling his efforts, wrist working faster.
Dapples of sweat litter his brow, his eyes staring into yours, glazed over and lusting.
Fuck, he’s handsome like this.
It’s a little embarrassing how bad he’s got you but between the blissed-out expression he’s wearing, the weight of him in your hand, and how full you are, you know this orgasm is going to be quick, messy.
The pace of his hips pick up, his breath hitching in his throat, length twitching and thickening in your grip.
He’s getting close, his touch rougher, more force behind the snapping thrusts of his hips, teeth nipping at the side of your neck.
“Come on, baby,” you say, breathless, twisting your hand on the upstroke. He smothers a grunt in your shoulder. “Give it to me.”
It doesn’t take much more to bring him to the edge.
A particular spread of his fingers has you jolting, a sudden, intense spike of pleasure shooting right to your clit.
In turn, you unintentionally massage his cock, knuckles bumping the underside of the swollen head.
He’s a goner.
Cumming with a low, wounded whine and a shuttered thrust, Yoongi smacks the door with his free hand. Thick spurts of jizz make an absolute mess of his stomach and your knuckles.
Sagging forward like a doll with cut strings, all his dead weight bears down on you.
He pants, small tremors wrack his frame. “Baby,” he murmurs, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw, “I missed you s’much.”
“Missed you too,” you reply, using nice, languid strokes to wring the last of his orgasm out of him. “More than I thought I did.”
In lieu of a response, Yoongi wiggles his fingers inside you, rebuilding the rhythm he lost. He flutters them, curls up against your walls, peppering kisses along the length of your jaw with a hum.
Slick drips down his wrist, the sloppy sound of him finger fucking your cunt blending with a surge of desperate moans.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Yoongi says against your chin. “So fucking hot, wanna see you cum.”
Your back arches, your fingers digging into the width of his shoulders, head smacking the door with a dull thud.
“Can you do that for me?”
Nodding frantically, you fall apart with a broken gasp. Clamping down so hard he can’t move, the cramps softened by the throbbing heat washing over you. Blood rushes in your ears as your pussy gushes around his fingers.
“Good girl,” he praises, tone heated. “You did so well for me.”
By the time your brain comes back online, you’ve forgotten all about Chang-ryul and the constant vibration of your phone where it’s shoved - forgotten - into your pocket.
The only thing that matters is Yoongi with his tender kisses and greedy hands.
#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#bts smut#min yoongi x reader#yoongi#min yoongi x you#bts min yoongi#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x you#bts x reader#bts fanfic
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slipping through my fingers [prologue] (myg)
pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst, fluff, smut
summary: you've always thought you had it way too easy. all of a sudden, your life seems to be taking a few unexpected turns. it's time your luck ran out.
word count: 1.4k
warnings: none, you're all good > : )
The soft whirring sound of the radiator echoed through your cozy apartment.
It’s homey and comforting to hear the constant hum in the background. Sometimes, you’d leave the window open for the cold air to enter your space just so you had an excuse to use your radiator.
Still, you ought to get that fixed up before your ex-boyfriend lectures you about getting a new one already.
It was one of those days when time seemed to have slowed down. As you folded your daughter’s fresh laundry, you went over your tasks for the day.
You were in no hurry because for once, you had everything together.
The living room bathed in the sun’s golden hue.
Your daughter sat on her favourite spongy floor mat, completely absorbed in creating her new art piece. Her fingers were covered in pink, purple and white paint.
Momentarily pausing, you take note of what type of paint she used.
Acrylic.
You sigh. That would be a pain to clean off.
After putting away the laundered clothes, you remind your daughter to get into the bath.
You stood in front of her with your hand on your hips, “Nao, do you want mommy to run you a warm bath or would you rather shower?”
She simply hums.
“Mommy needs to shower too. You better get in there…” You walk away after adding, “Before I do.”
At that, Naomi instantaneously stops and rushes into the bath.
Naomi was a lot like you. She hated using wet bathrooms, as do you. But motherhood had changed you. Now, you’d do just about anything for your daughter.
As if you just remembered, you yelp, “Hold on! Let me clean the paint off of you first.”
You didn’t want your pristine white bathroom tiles to stain.
After bathing and dressing your daughter in a sage green cotton dress that you stitched yourself, you decide to let her watch TV even though it isn’t time for that just yet.
“Is daddy coming to get me today?” Naomi’s enthusiastic voice stopped you. It’s a bittersweet moment for you. On one hand, you’re happy that your daughter’s happy, on the other, you’re reminded that Yoongi and you aren’t together anymore.
“Of course, he is. It’s Friday!” You match her tone. She perks up and resumes watching the Barbie movie you put on for her.
Naomi would be distracted for a good thirty minutes now.
That does not leave you a lot of time for your ‘everything’ shower, but you were aiming high either way.
While in the shower, you let your thoughts wander to Yoongi.
He suggested you have dinner together because he had a few things to discuss with you.
You don’t think too much of it. It’s probably something about his upcoming business trip. You’ve got everything covered either way.
Your breakup was… inevitable. It wasn’t mutual at first, but you knew it’s where you were headed to.
After five years of dating, while simultaneously parenting Naomi, you wanted to get married. Yoongi didn’t.
You yearned for the validation and commitment of marriage, while Yoongi held steadfast to his belief against it. He refused to confine himself to a traditional marriage.
When you opened up to him about your insecurities about him leaving you for someone else, he grappled to reassure and console you. It worked for about a month.
Your differences, once manageable, had now grown into impossible divides, creating a rift that stretched beyond mere disagreement.
Self-doubt and a lack of validation destroyed your relationship.
The water had almost run cold by the time you finished your shower routine.
You pick out a sage green dress for yourself, similar to Naomi’s, just longer.
In no hurry, you moisturize and blow-dry your hair.
Even though you’re broken up, you still try to dress up for him. You don’t know why.
Apart from some lingering stares, there hasn’t been any sign of a reconciliation since you broke up. Yet, you always try to look good for him.
Although, that’s just who you are. You’d dress up for anyone. But, it’s still different with Yoongi. You especially enjoy his compliments.
The doorbell rang, forcing you to hurry and spritz on the first perfume bottle you touch.
“Don’t open the door! You don’t know who it is!” You warn Naomi, but to no avail.
He’s early today.
Naomi races you to the door, “It’s daddy!” You let her win. You rush to tidy up the living room as you walk to the door.
“You’re so early!” Your daughter clings to his leg. Yoongi laughs and drags his foot in.
“How are my girls feeling?” He smirks at you. “A little troubled now that you’re here.” You bicker.
Yoongi vocalizes a groan, “Why’s mommy so mean to daddy?” He directs it to Naomi.
You smile and wait by the coat hanger stand to receive his jacket.
The apartment feels a little livelier every time he stops by.
“Why are you here so soon? I haven’t even begun cooking yet.” You walk into your kitchen to quickly gather ingredients to prepare a fresh pasta dough.
“No reason.” Yoongi cleared his throat, “Let me help you cook.” You gladly accept his help.
You assign both Nao and Yoongi to make the sauce and the salad.
Soon, your kitchen was filled with the clatter of pots and pans and laughter.
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
After dinner, Naomi spends time watching TV and working on her masterpiece.
In the serene quiet of your kitchen, the clinking of dishes echoed softly as you and Yoongi worked in unison, a familiar rhythm of cleaning up after a shared meal.
The warmth of the evening meal lingered; the comforting ambiance contrasted with the weight of the impending conversation.
Yoongi sighed for the fifth time that evening before you finally asked him, “What is it you wanted to talk about? Is everything okay?”
As you wiped a bowl dry, you stole a glance at Yoongi, noticing the hint of unease in his demeanour. Your heart fluttered with a sense of foreboding, sensing something amiss.
Yoongi paused for a moment; his hands still submerged in soapy water. "I... I have something I need to tell you."
You laughed uneasily, “I know. Spit it out already. You’re worrying me.”
The air around you felt heavier.
You set down the dishcloth, turning to face him, a sense of apprehension settling in.
Yoongi stared back into your eyes.
"I... I'm getting engaged," Yoongi finally uttered, his words hanging heavily in the air.
WHAT?
The world seemed to pause for a moment as you tried to process his words.
Your chest tightened, emotions swirling within you—a mix of surprise, disbelief, and an (un)expected pang of sorrow.
You searched his eyes for reassurance, for any sign of hesitation or doubt.
"Engaged?" Your voice was barely a whisper.
You’re hoping he misspoke. Maybe he’s getting engraved or encased or embraced.
Yoongi nodded, his expression a blend of remorse and an unspoken plea for understanding. "It's been on my mind for a while."
“Has it, now?” You scoffed.
WOW, really?
You didn’t even know he was seeing someone like that.
Even though you’re broken up, you feel cheated on in some way.
“I don’t know what to say.” You deadpan.
Your conversation was interrupted by the distant sound of Naomi's laughter, a stark reminder of the delicate balance you maintained for your daughter's sake.
"I wanted you to know first," Yoongi added softly, his eyes a mosaic of regret and an unspoken apology. One that you don’t want to acknowledge or accept.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you look down at your floral dishcloth.
You have a lot of questions but you don’t really want answers to all of them.
Yoongi feels ashamed of himself. But he knew he’d have to have this conversation with you someday. The sooner the better. He thoroughly beat himself up for this too.
You excused yourself promptly, “I’ll check on Nao.” Yoongi simply nodded.
Alone in the quiet of the short hallway that connects the kitchen to your living room, you leaned against the wall. A mix of emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself against the ache in your chest.
₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ in my dreams by red velvet ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡
note: this is a self-indulgent drabble series i'm writing, nothing is planned and i'll just write as i go
i hope u guys enjoy it!
find the series masterlist here.
#fic: slipping through my fingers#yoongi x reader#yoongi fic#yoongi smut#yoongi x oc#yoongi fanfic#bts angst#bts x reader#yoongi x you#min yoongi x reader#suga x reader#suga fic#suga angst#min yoongi smut#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x oc#dilf yoongi
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Moving In ~ MYG
WORD COUNT: 1.2K
PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader
GENRE: established relationships, yoongi trying to make himself known in her apartment, making space for each other, cute, fluffy,
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2023
⤜MASTERLIST
When things of Yoongi's started to appear around your apartment you thought nothing of it, that maybe he'd just forgotten a couple of his things and that he would just come and get them the next time he spent the night. But as time went on and the more your relationship with each other developed you began to notice that more things were being left behind in your apartment. It started with a couple pairs of his boxers that he'd left on the weekend and then it slowly escalated into hoodies and t-shirts that you would find in your room after he left.
Not that you ever had a problem with any of it, you got to keep your boyfriend's clothes at your place and have the smell of him around but as time grew on you began to notice the ulterior motive behind his actions and the thought alone was enough to make you smirk about it all. Yoongi and yourself had been in a relationship for almost four years and the two of you hadn't moved in together yet since you'd both been so busy with your own careers you'd never found the time to ask one another or even to just move in. The last few weeks were the final penny-dropping for you though, last weekend when Yoongi had stayed over he'd been dropping hints that his lease was coming to an end and he didn't know what he was going to do. He was struggling to decide whether or not to move into a "new place" or to renew his lease with his current landlord. It didn't take a genius to work out what he was really hinting at with that line of conversation but you'd played dumb and told him that it was all down to him. Though as soon as he'd gone home on the Sunday night you'd already started to make room for him in your place, clearing out some of your wardrobe as well as some of the drawers that you had. You'd put a bunch of stuff into storage and then begin to make more room around the apartment for his other items until you were finally happy enough with how it was looking.
"I've got a surprise," You told Yoongi as he finished eating the meal you'd cooked for the two of you tonight. It was Friday night which meant whenever he finished work he would come over and get ready to spend the entire weekend with you, just the two of you with little to no distractions getting in the way.
"You do? More of a surprise than cooking me my favourite meal?" He rubbed his stomach a little, feeling completely full from what you'd done for him and a little spoiled he was honest. He'd never expected to come to yours after both of you had a long day at work and you have cooked his favourite meal. Come to think of it, most of the night his favourite things had been happening.
Not only had you cooked his favourite meal but you'd had his favourite album playing in the background while you ate, you were wearing his favourite outfit and your hair was even styled the way he adored it on you. It was all starting to make him blush as he thought more about it, you'd done all of this for him and he was beginning to worry he'd missed an anniversary or something.
"Did I forget our anniversary?" His voice cracked a little making you giggle as you slowly got up from the dining table and shook your head at him. Your anniversary wasn't for another four months yet so he had nothing to worry about on that aspect. You just hoped he was going to enjoy this kind of surprise and that you weren't reading the signs wrong,
"No, baby, you're fine." You promised him before taking his hand in yours and slowly pulling him through the double doors and toward your staircase his eyes on yours as you walked backwards. You knew your home like the back of your hand and you knew how to get around even if you were blindfolded but that didn't stop Yoongi from watching everything behind you to make sure you weren't going to trip or bump into anything.
"Did you paint your room?" He chuckled trying to take a guess on what it was you could have to surprise him with. You smirked at him as you reached the bedroom door, pausing as you stared at him and held your hand on the door handle.
"No, but we can if you want to." You suggested, before slowly turning the door knob and opening it up. Yoongi stared around the room in silence for a couple of seconds before frowning, nothing looked different.
"I'm not sure what's different-" He tried to speak but you smirked, you knew he would never be able to guess from just looking inside the bedroom so you let go of his hand and made your way toward your closet.
"Here," You giggled opening the wardrobe doors for him to take a look inside, his heart thumping when he saw there was no room for his stuff with clothes he'd already left behind hanging up.
"I made space for you, you're not as sneaky as you think you are." You winked at him, his cheeks starting to turn bright red as his whole body burnt up. You'd realised what he was doing?
"Yn-" He bit down on his lip as he realised you'd caught onto what he'd been hinting at for a few weeks now and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry about it.
"I also made room in the bathroom and in the kitchen cabinets..." You looked at him, hoping he knew where you were going with this but he was already blushing and staring at you. He didn't want to assume that you were asking him to move in, he wanted to hear the words come straight from your mouth.
"Min Yoongi, will you officially move in with me?" You questioned, your eyes finding his as he suddenly wrapped his arms around your midsection and pulled you into a tight embrace.
"I would be honoured Yn," He whined before kissing you deeply, your hands falling into his black hair as you pulled him closer to you. Your heart racing against your chest as you held onto him, it was the first time you'd have been moving in with someone and it was safe to say you were nervous but excited about it all at the same time.
"So I wasn't slick then?" He questioned as you pulled away from one another, his clothes hanging in the wardrobe with plenty of space for more of his stuff in the future.
"Not at all. I caught on as soon as you started leaving more and more around here." You giggled, your body flaming as he stared at you and whined a little.
"Once you've moved in we can decide on changing things up. If you want to." You suggested for him, his arms wrapping around your waist as he walked you toward the bed gently laying you down before he began peppering you with kisses. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled him closer to you as you made out softly on your - now shared - bed.
Tagline: @chiisaiblog @rjsmochii @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @cherrybubblesandvodka @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @halesandy @jin-from-the-block @aerastus @namjooningelsewhere @psychosupernatural @lyoongx @royallyjjk @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @laylasbunbunny @ratherbfangirling
#bts#bts x reader#bts imagine#bts imagines#min yoongi#yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi imagine#yoongi imagines#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi imagine#min yoongi imagines#suga#suga x reader#suga imagine#suga imagines
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Haegeum - MYG (18+)
Pairing: Gangstar!Yoongi X Bar-owner!Reader
Theme: SMUT, PWP (MDNI)
Summary: Banning Yoongi from your bar has its own consequences.
Word count: 1869
Warning: Strong Language, sexual theme, dub-con, sex on the bar island, creampie, mentions of gun, a little bit of violence, Yoongi is hot OMG!!
**************
“How dare you?” you seethe through your teeth, staring at the man that seemingly has no emotion at all. Your eyes scan the pieces of shattered glass all over the floor of your bar. You wanna cry. Your bar means the world to you. After pressing yourself under the unforgiving wheels of the corporate sector, you finally saved enough money to open your own bar. It has been one of your biggest dreams since forever. All of it was going good, so fucking good until one day Min Yoongi, the infamous delinquent of the city stepped inside.
Nothing has been quiet and peaceful since then. Using your bar for his illegal deals has become one of the common things. You have warned him again and again but you received nothing but a smirk in return.
However, everything has a limit so does your patience with this terribly handsome delinquent. The dam of your cool demanour broke yesterday when he pulled out his gun and pointed it at the man he was supposed to be making the deal with. You threw both of them out of your bar just at once. Thanks to your bulky security guards, the deed has not been tough. But you knew that you were jumping in a pool of fire. You knew it the moment Yoongi turned his head to stare and smirk at you before being pushed out of the entrance.
And just as you thought, he came back today. He came back with his gang of thugs and jerks and destroyed the large mirror that you installed behind your bar counter, it was your favourite decoration. Seems like he knew it.
You miss the way Yoongi’s eyes rake over your body as you continue to stare at the broken glass all over the floor.
“Are you regretting, kitten?” Yoongi cooes in a low voice, taking your attention. You look at him and visibly cringe at the nickname.
“This is what you get for banning me from my favourite bar in the town.” He says again.
“This is my bar, you nutjob! I get to decide who can step in here and who can’t!” you scream at his face. Your fury didn’t let you see the way you are stepping towrads his body.
“And this is my area, Kitten. I get to decide who can start their business here and who can’t.” Yoongi replies calmly, as if he didn’t trespass your property and scared your guests away less than seven minutes ago.
“You don’t own the property, Yoongi” you reply, boring your fiery eyes into his cold ones.
“You bet I do, kitten. And do you know what else I own?” he pauses, taking a step towards you, “you”.
You stand still. You don’t know if you should be scared or thrilled hearing such a handsome delinquent calling you his. But what you do know is that even if you want to oppose it, it will all go in vain. He is Min Yoongi after all and what Yoongi wants, Yoongi gets.
“Have you ever asked yourself how you got to open this bar without facing any trouble?” Yoongi asks, taking another step towards you and this time you take a step back. You indeed have asked yourself. Since your capital was limited you didn’t get to open your bar in a fairly decent area. You decided to settle for a little shadier place instead, promising yourself that you will shift it to somewhere better once you earn enough profit. However, you heard stories about how other pub or club owners in this area had to pass money under the table for opening their businesses. When you faced nothing like this, you indeed asked yourself several questions starting from why and how. You somehow knew it would come with a price. But you didn’t imagine the price to be Min Yoongi himself.
“Because I let you do so.” Yoongi growls, breaking your reverie and taking another step towards you.
“Becuase I wanted you from the day my eyes landed on this pretty face of yours, this inviting body of yours.” his eyes travel down your face to your neck then your chest. The heat of his gaze and his body makes you feel lightheaded. You almost jump when your body comes in contact with the bar top. Yoongi’s body towers over yours and he locks you between those vieny arms of his. You should be angry and furious but the sudden dampness of your panty says something completely different.
“Why do you want me?” your voice is softer than before and you fail to recognize yourself when you say those words. It is as if you want to hear him saying something very specific, you don’t know why.
“I like strong, confident and self-dependent women. I like to see them fly until they find that one place they can’t reach.” he smirks that lethal smirk again, “and in your case, I am that place.”
You are about to protest but then your words get cut as you feel something hard against your stomach. Unfortunately, that object isn’t his bulge but the cold metal of his gun.
Your breath gets stuck on your throat as you feel terror creeping up your spine. But you don’t want to show it, not today.
“Go ahead, kill me if you want. I still am not bending in front of you.” you say and Yoongi chuckles.
“You got some courage, don’t you? But kitten, you gotta bend in front of me if you wanna save your precious bar. If you don’t, next time it will be those expensive bottle of liqours to be shattered here on the floor.” He presses the gun on your stomach even more.
“No!” you mutter.
“Then do as I say. I promise it won’t be painful. Rather you will like it all.” Yoongi’s gaze falls down on your lips and your cunt leaks with anticipation.
“What do you want me to do?” you say, letting your own eyes fall on his lips.
“Strip” the demand in Yoongi’s voice sends you working in auto-pilot and you find yourself shredding each piece of garment one by one.
Yoongi’s eyes darkened the moment you are left only with your emerald lace lingerie. You see him licking his lips as his body still towers you greedily.
“Stop” Yoongi commands when you reach for the hook of your bra. He places his gun in the back pocket of his jeans and places one of his giant palms on your bare thigh.
“Better than my imagination” he says, squeezing your thigh harshly. Within a moment you find yourself being lifted up and sat on the bar top.
“You are already wet? Is this how much you hate me, kitten?” Yoongi says, regarding the wet spot that is visible through the cloth of your lacy underware. You are embarrassed but you’re aroused much more than that.
Yoongi takes out his gun again. He holds you by your waist and he presses the mouth of his gun on your clothed clit. You hiss at the contact. Yoongi’s mouth finds the expanse of your collarbone as he bites down on your skin, “you like it, kitten. You are just as nasty as I thought.”
Moaning out a little, you try to roll your hips for some friction, you are badly in need of that.
“So impatient. Just like a little slut. You are lucky, I have been waiting for a long time to get you like this, which means I am in no mood to tease.” Yoongi mutters in your throat before he pulls his face away from yours and hooks his fingers on the hem of your underware. He snatches that away within a blink. And now you are sitting naked on the bartop with a leaking core waiting to be ruined by Yoongi.
“Fuck” he curses, as he places two of his fingers on your slit gathering some of your juices. Your pussy starts throbbing at the contact. And without your own knowledge you moan out his name.
“Yes, kitten, yes. Moan my name. Let me hear it.” Yoongi says with a dazed expression. He places the gun on the top of the bar just beside you and starts removing his pants. You know he is just as impatient if not more, when he pulls his boxers away along with his jeans. His delicious looking dick frees from confinement to greet you in its full glory.
Your mouth waters at the sight. As much as your pride hurts right now, you can’t really deny the fact that you would love to suck him dry. As if reading your mind, Yoongi says, “I would love to give you a taste but, I need to be inside you now.”
He aligns his dick on your entrance and presses on your clit with the tip of his cock once. You hiss at the contact, yet again.
“Fuck Yoongi!” you moan.
“Yeah kitten. I am gonna fuck you till you can barely walk.” he says, slowly entering you. He pulls out his length once he is midway and then slams into you without any warning. You grasp for a handful of his thick hair. He barely gives you any time to adjust as he starts moving with a good pace already. You don’t even register when his hands reach your back and unhook your bra. You finally get what is happening when he pulls the garment away from your body and throws that away.
Yoongi latches his mouth to one of your perked nipples as one of his hands massage the other tit. He sucks hard and messily, leaving a trail of his drool dropping down the swell of our tits, reaching your naval down to your mound. He bites your nipple and that gets you seeing stars.
“Yoongi” you whine.
Yoongi takes up a much faster pace, this time he shifts his mouth to your other tit and his hand reaches down to draw circles on your clit. The pleasure that you feel is unexplainable. You feel like you could faint from this.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” a string of curses start flying out of your mouth when his cock hit your g-spot twice in a row. As a result your walls start squeezing his shaft and his cock starts twiching.
“Cum on my cock, kitten” as if you obey his command, you cum on his dick. Yoongi follows right behind as he spills his seed in you. He bites on your nipple again and the pain overstimulates you.
Yoongi pulls out his softened dick from your cunt and watches as his semen flows out. He chuckles at the sight. Your breath is heavy and ragged and seeing Yoongi chuckling at your fucked out form makes you angry.
“What’s so funny?” you ask furiously.
“Not funny but definitely amusing how you ended up bending before me.” He smirks again. Your jaw gets tight at his cockiness.
“It’s a one time thing” you say as you start climbing down from the bar top.
“Oh, kitten, you thought so. Cause now, you belong to me.” Yoongi says, grabbing his gun and pointing that to your temple.
**************
Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie
#bts smut#yoongi smut#suga smut#yoongi x reader#yoongi scenarios#bts x reader#bts x you#haegeum#bts suga
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Hihi, Idk if requests are open. But can you do Suga x fem!reader where he fucks her while her hands are behind her back…maybe degrading and dumbifaction. Possibly edging?? If you’re comfortable. ily !
FAVOURITE — M.YG
★Pairing: min yoongi + f!reader
★Genre: smut
★: not proof read, mean dom!myg , office!au , office sex , unprotected sex (practice safe sex!) , bondage , pussy slapping , fingering , dumbification , slight edging , name calling , nicknames — lmk if i missed any! ^^
★W/C: 1,479
A/N: hiii!! Sorry if this took so long 😭 tysm to user for sending me this! I had sm fun writing it! I hope it checks out all that you wanted 😞🥰 enjoy!!!
☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★
The bundle of files came flying at you, hitting you on the chest, The impact made you stumble back a bit. “Are you fucking stupid???” Yoongi spat at you from behind his desk. An angry scowl was plastered on his face. He slammed his hand on the desk. “I ask you one thing, and this is the result?!” You flinch at his words and actions. Your gaze was low, trying to avoid any eye contact with the furious man that stood in front of you.
Being Yoongis assistant was not as easy as you thought. You thought it would be all easygoing and happy because you were literally working for one of the biggest corporations and were hired as the personal assistant for the CEO! Isn't that a dream!!?? You would think. It was far from that. Yoongi was a sadist. He liked torturing you. Giving you the hardest assignments or tasks for you to complete and, on top of that, a very short amount of time to finish them. He made you follow millions of rules because ‘you are new, so you need guidance, right?’. You started getting why his other assistants resigned.
You stared at the ground, on the verge of tears. You were a pretty sensitive person, so him screaming at you, accompanied by the throwing of things, was the perfect recipe for your waterworks to pour. You tried staying strong and tried to put up with his attitude, but today was the last straw.
“Are you that incompetent? Is this how I taught you? You dumb fucking slut! The only thing you are good at is flirting and fucking my employees!” He snapped at you harshly. Your heart sank at his words, and you started sniffing. He noticed it almost immediately and walked towards you, his lean body towering over your small frame as he stared down at you. You stayed silent, as you were not allowed to talk back to him until he said so. You gulped before hot streams of tears started pouring down your face. Yoongi stared at you, amused, A smirk was on his face as he finally broke you. He lifted your chin up and stared into your tear-filled eyes blankly. “Pathetic… Did I really hire a crybaby?” You shook your head. “N-no.. sir… w-whatever you said is not true…” You spoke up. You stutter in fear. “What?” His grip on your chin tightened. He got closer, his other hand creeping behind and groping your plump ass. Your breath hitched at his sudden action. His hand travels down to your neck, wrapping his fingers around them as he brings your face closer to his own. “Gon’ teach you a good lesson, ‘kay? So better shut your stupid fucking mouth and listen t’ me..” he hissed. His hand on your ass went under your short pencil skirt. You gulp and shudder when you feel his long, cold fingers rubbing your wet cunt. “So fucking wet.. you like it when I get angry at you, dont you , pretty?” His other hand found your ass cheeks before spreading and giving them a tight slap. You whine as you feel his fingers prod into your cunny , your head falling onto his chest. Hot tears stained his white button up.
“S-sir.. please .. its embarrassi-“ He cut you off by landing a slap on your wet cunt. You jerk forward at the impact and sob as you watch Yoongi spread your cheeks and admire your pretty pussy. “So pretty… everything about you is perfect…” he praised. You whimpered as you felt his hot breath fanning over your bare pussy. You couldn’t do much as he had you bent over his desk, with his black valentino tie, binding your hands together behind your back. He gently placed a kiss on your slit, sending shivers down your spine. You writhed as he made out with your pussy. You gasped out as he slapped your ass. “Quit moving, bitch.” You gulped and closed your eyes as he licked a long stripe. Your eyes rolled back, and you started drooling as you felt his tongue inside of your warm walls. Yoongi buried his face in your pussy, his nose nudged inside. His tongue moved inside you with precision. A stream of your arousal ran down yoongis chin and your thighs. He moaned as he felt you clench around his tongue. “So wet. You are such a slut..” he mumbled into your pussy. You cried out as yoongis fingers found your neglected clit, slender fingers toying with the sensitive bud to overstimulate you. “S-sir… s’ too much!” Yoongi pulled away, leaving your cunt throbbing. He stood up and hovered over your small frame. You look up at him with glossy eyes, and a fucked out face, barely even being able to comprehend what’s going on. “Too much?” You nod dumbly, your eyes on the verge of tears. Yoongi's hands smoothed over your sweaty forehead, pushing away the stray hairs. “I barely started, princess..” Your mouth falls agape as you feel his fingers circle your entrance. “You disappointed me today… don’t you think i –squelch– deserve compensation..?” Your eyes roll back, and you moan as his fingers curl into your g spot. Your legs were trembling as four of his fingers went in and out off your sex, his hands already getting coated with your juices, almost reaching the cuffs of his suit jacket. Loud, squelching sounds accompanied by your soft moans bounced off the walls of his office. Yoongis other hand, found your perky nipples, playing with them through your thin shirt. “Mmm-ngh- s-sir….” You were too out of it to even speak. His fingers drove into you at an insane pace. Your mind was foggy as you slurred your words. “Gon -ngh- na.. c-cuum…” you almost felt like you were going to black out, but you were quickly brought back to earth as Yoongi pulled his fingers away. You cried out and turned around to look at Yoongi.
Your eyes almost popped out of your skull as Yoongis long cock plunged into you without a warning. Yoongi had a shit eating grin as he watched your reaction. He started moving his hips, sharp thrusts abused your walls. Your eyes crossed, and you started drooling from the sides of your mouth as Yoongi pounded into your squelching pussy. One of his hands was on your hip, keeping your body steady, and the other was on your head, squishing the side of your face. With every driving thrust into your pussy, the desk shook. You were crying and whining. Yoongi's cock was just too good. He pulled your head back, making you look into his eyes. “Look at you… all fucked out, and i barely started… feels good, princess? Does my princess like getting fucked like this? Yeah?” You whine at his words, unable to speak. You looked at him with your big, glossy eyes, lips in a pout, and eyebrows stitched together. Yoongi almost lost it after looking at your state. “Is the dick too good that my princess cant even speak?” He scoffed before wrapping his hand around your neck, bringing you closer to his body. He used his other hand to lift one of your legs up on the desk. The new position hit the right spots. You moaned as his cock continuously bruised your cervix. He would pull back all the way and plunge into you, grazing your sensitive g spot. The hand on your neck was an added stimulation. “Fuuuuuckk…- sirrr.. -hic- its too g-goodd..” “yeah? Does my pretty little slut wanna cum? Does she wanna come all over boss’s dick?” He said it in between hot breaths. You nodded incoherently. “Mhmffm- wan’ more… wanna c-cummm….” Yoongis eyebrows furrowed as he watched your pussy suck him in. A thick ring of your cream was coating his pelvis. “So good… such a pretty whore.. do you see the way your pussy is taking me? ‘m gonna fill you up. Im gonna make sure you walk out with my cum dripping down your thighs. Wan’ everyone to know who this whore belongs too..” you cried out at his words, and a stream of your hot arousal gushed out of your pussy. You fall limply onto the desk and let Yoongi use your cunt. Not long after, his hot cum filled your womb. Rope after rope. He hunched over your small frame, holding you close to his body as he calmed himself down from his intense orgasm.
Yoongi laid your weak body down on his office couch. You were barely conscious. He had cleaned you down and fixed your hair. He untied your hands and smoothed over the red marks. He had your head on his lap, as he ran his fingers through your slightly sweaty hair. He gently placed a kiss on your forehead.
“ My favourite girl. ”
A/N: thank you for reading!! Did it seemed too rushed? I told i will post rqs in march but i couldn’t help but post it 😭 was the office theme okay? Hope you liked it <3 i will be back 🔜 pookies hehe
#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ yun’s silly fics#bts#bts reactions#bts smut#bts x reader#bts army#bts fanfic#bts headcanons#bts scenarios#yoongi scenarios#yoongi smut#min yoongi#yoongi#suga smut#suga scenario#bts suga#suga x reader#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n
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Fic Library: Yoongi (Pt 1)
My ult bias, it makes sense that there were too many to fit into one list. All of these authors capture the essence of my favourite tsundere king, check these stories out and show them some love.
Pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat. Music producer MYG x reader, domestic abuse. The first time I ever slid into an author's DMs was after I read this, to let them know how much I loved this story. It's unexpected, and profoundly beautiful, and re-reading it now takes me back to where I was when I first read it.
Like Butter by @bonvoyagenoona. Photographers MYG x reader, director KNJ x reader. Set in the setting of a magazine production team, and featuring a very sexy scene with our fave maknae and a scheming Park Jimin.
Countermelody by @bonvoyagenoona. Producer MYG x shopgirl/musician reader. A gorgeously rendered enemies to lovers story that's as much about life, love, new starts, self belief as it is about Min Yoongi and his beanie. IYKYK.
Moonlit throne by @hobidreams.Joseon king Yoongi x reader, historical AU. The seminal Joseon dynasty story told in a non-linear timeline with a perfectly characterised Yoongi and incredible attention to detail.
Three Tangerines by @kithtaehyung. Fuckboy Yoongi x f! reader, brother's best friend AU. 3tan makes it onto almost every fic rec list I've seen, and deservedly so - the dialogue slaps, the writing's sharp and this Yoongi's irresistible.
Bet on it by @minisugakoobies. Quizzers Yoongi x reader, featuring a super competitive reader and Yoongi with a blonde undercut. Hot, fun and hilarious.
Perpetual Datejust by @jiminrings. Model Yoongi x manager reader. A very sweet, romantic read, with a devoted reader and a healthy dose of angst.
Sodium Vapor by @miscelunaaa. Yoongi x f! reader. An atmospheric, wistful read about a chance meeting that also has Em's signature raw honesty.
Man of the year by @raplinesmoon. Single dad Yoongi x gn reader. A sweet, heartwarming read, and Yoongi's relationship with his daughter is adorable.
Look down on me like that by @here2bbtstrash. Co-workers Yoongi x reader, enemies to lovers. There's nothing better than Yoongi being an asshole, and he's written so perfectly here, as are reader and cute and endearing babystarcandy JK.
Teardrop by @hesperantha. Yoongi x reader, road trip AU. I read sometimes just for the pleasure of how a writer puts words to paper, and this is one of those stories - there are so many truths woven into the words, subtle and beautiful.
Moving day (Explicit) by @here2bbtstrash. Yoongi x reader, domestic AU. Sweet, sexy smut involving Yoongi tying up his hair. I repeat, Yoongi tying up his hair. The visual still gives me chills.
Proof by @illneverrecover. Yoongi x reader, strangers to lovers. A confident reader approaches an equally confident, sexy Yoongi with the added bonus of Joon and Jin as supportive besties.
Quiet Kitten by @thatlongspringnight. Professor Yoongi x college student reader - a smutty read with a fiercely sexy, stern Professor Min.
Straight Shooter MYG x reader, cyberpunk AU by @snackhobi. A perfectly characterised Yoongi, a dystopian futuristic setting and a subtle and gorgeous love story that I've read and re-read more times than I can say. The story that pulled me into BTS fanfic that I still have so much love for now.
Punch Drunk MYG x reader, boxer AU by @joonbird. From memory there's an open ending but that hasn't stopped me from re-reading. A troubled Yoongi's depicted so beautifully here.
Greedy MYG x reader, mafia AU by @xjoonchildx. Ana knows how much I love this - this Yoongi breaks my heart every time and I love how the relationship develops between him and reader.
Close Call by @xjoonchildx - a follow up to Greedy that's just as stunning as the OG story. I can't tell you how much I love this. Yoongi's a provider, and he takes care of his own, and there's nothing sexier.
All the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders. Yoongi x reader, strangers to lovers, in progress. An intriguingly irritable Yoongi covers the tab for reader at a bar.
Interlude: Sundown by @eoieopda. Part of the Darksided series, featuring Yoongi x reader in an established relationship. Hot, smutty, intimate goodness.
Angel by @sailoryooons. Mafia Yoongi x sex worker reader. I started reading this and couldn't stop - the writing's sharp and riveting and the pacing is perfect. A sexy, smutty, captivating read with a sexy, dangerous Yoongi.
Part 2
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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅸ)
hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them 🥺🖤 also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time ✨🖤
a- angst s- smut f-fluff
series
dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a
↬ DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.
block party by @minlucent f s a
↬ moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l
a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg
↬ you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldn’t. Will jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it?
lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l
secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au
i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a
↬ You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you.
fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth
↬ your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller
pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s
↬ One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l
animal by @cutaepatootie f s a
↬ boxer jungkook au ANGST
things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a
↬ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.
entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth
↬ Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.
when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a
↬ Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?
new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a
↬ after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?
horizon by @/sokooks f s a
↬ The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au
searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a
↬ he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.
twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a
↬ you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.
when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a
↬ what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on
better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a
↬ jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesn’t want you to think anyone else is better than him
our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7
↬ The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au
dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a
↬ Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au
together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm
↬domestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au
hot bot by @/httpjeon f s
↬ purchasing a Hot Bot wasn’t exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.
stardust by @iamtaekooked f
↬ You didn’t believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friend’s husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his
serendipity by @rohobi f s a
↬ After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe it’s about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.
chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a
↬ Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PI’s around.
I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a
↬ In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au
sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a
↬ Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin
↬ When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation… ceo au
sleepwalking by @taexual f s a
↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a
↬ It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasn’t who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions you’d been trying to bury.
OR Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didn’t hate him as much as you do.
as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a
↬ You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”
hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.
J’aime by @baepop f s a
↬ You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.
Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth
↬ You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend
make me forget by @roseannekook f s a
↬ You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your company’s first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things don’t go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stalls…and find it in the arms of no one else but BTS’ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.
one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm
↬ fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song
boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a
↬ just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc
the boy who left by @/gujoonim a
↬ As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-be’s eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au
love sewn by @jvnghxope s a
↬ You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.
not yet by f s @bratkook f s a
↬ jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.
one shot
blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a
↬ when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au
southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a
↬ Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.
house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a
↬ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.
enouement by @littlemisskookie s a
↬ War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au
miss taken by @junghelioseok f s
↬you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l
the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a
↬ The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.
the proposal by @hansolmates f s a
↬Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l
red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s
↬It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money.
burning bright by @snackhobi s
↬there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim
but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a
↬Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.
the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj
↬ after moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need.
illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a
↬ You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.
the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a
↬ After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au
rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a
↬ A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.
lowkey by @joonbird s
↬ Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.
part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a
↬there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.
sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a
↬ a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'
i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj
↬ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man.
white lies by @noteguk f s a
↬ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you.
yes coach by @/taleanewastime s
↬ You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.
spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s
↬ If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.
fifth wish by @jiminrings f a
↬ jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.
blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth
↬after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.
↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library
#kiki!fic!rec#moon's recs#jungkook#jungkook:oneshot#jungkook:series#jungkook:smut#jungkook:angst#jungkook:fluff#favourites!jjk#jungkook fanfiction#bts fanfiction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook fic recs#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook series#moonchild1#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook
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40 Sapphic Movies You Have to Watch or You're NOT Gay
I do make the rules
1. I Care a Lot
2. Fear Street Trilogy
3. Everything Everywhere All at Once
4. Crush
5. The Favourite
6. Carol
7. Fingersmith BBC
8. My First Summer
youtube
9. Girl Picture
10. The Miseducation of Cameron Post
youtube
11. The Prom
youtube
12. Fucking Amal
youtube
13. Booksmart
youtube
14. Happiest Season
youtube
15. Love Classified
youtube
16. Portrait of a Lady on Fire
youtube
17. The Handmaiden
youtube
18. The Half of It
19. The World to Come
20. The Mitchells VS the Machines
21. Thelma
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22. Besties
24. Ammonite
25. Imagine me and You
26. The New Mutants
27. Disobedience
28. Under the Christmas Tree
29. I can't Think Straight
30. Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga (How I felt when I saw that girl)
31. Saving Face
32. Kyss Myg
33. Tell it to The Bees
34. Aimee & Jaguar
35. Summerland
36. Badhaai Do
37. The Perfection
38. The Novice
39. Anais in Love
40. Mulholland Drive
Edit: By popular request, enough movies added to not have to hear any more lectures 😂
#lesbian#gay#lgbt#lgbtq#wlw#bi#girls who like girls#lgbtqia#sapphic#movies#everything Everywhere All at Once#crush#Fear Street#i care a lot#the handmaiden#besties#girl picture#carol#love Classified#the favourite#the half of it#the prom#the world to come#booksmart#the mitchells vs the machines#under the christmas tree lifetime#my first summer#the miseducation of cameron post#thelma#pride
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spider to the fly - myg
pairing: yoongi x female reader
warnings: smut
You were always so obedient to the expectations of your parents, which made up for all of your bratty attitude stemmed from being the only heir of your family.
And this exactly explained why Min Yoongi was standing across you, with his trademark cocky grin, leaning on your bedroom's doorway.
“How did you manage to sneak in?” You asked with a playful smile on your face. Indeed, you weren’t that surprised. He could just greeted by your mom, climb the stairs like it was his place. He was your dad’s favourite, after all.
“Do I look like I’ve just broke into without your parents’ permission?” You rolled your eyes with a quiet snort. You would always open your window just for him, knowing that he would pay a visit like a creature of the night, ready to devour you.
A beautiful breeze coming through your window lingered ever so slowly over your bare legs while you gulped loudly. You patted the spot next to you on your bed and call out for him sweetly. “Just come here, I feel needy since you entered the room.”
Taking his place next to you, he shook his head in a motion showing his disbelief with a beautiful smile on his face. Once you felt his minty breath lingering on your face just centimetres away, his face clouded with sincere concern. “Dove, what happened?” He tilted your chin in order to find any traces of emotions lingered in your eyes. Without giving a proper answer, you brought your hand to his neck and played softly with his raven hair. “Why did you rush out of my parents’ house? Did they say anything to hurt you?” You couldn’t find courage in you to confront with his burning gaze. Instead you fixed your gaze on your bed and mumbled a soft “no” immediately after you felt tears started to adorn your cheeks like diamonds covered your delicate neck.
“My family never misses a chance to make me feel like I’m some sort of property, especially when I’m around you, and your family. I know, we are supposed to get married, and I appreciate that it’s you. However, just imagine I hadn’t fall in love with you since we met when we were in kindergarten? I want this to happen just because we are in love. I feel like everything slips out of my hand including my dreams of becoming a professor-” You felt out of breath when you were interrupted by a pair of soft lips. It made your head dizzy with the feeling of your mind slipping out of your head to wander around somewhere far away likely to be your dreamland.
There was no denying that everytime he looked into your eyes with his intense gaze, you felt you were burning in a hellfire. His affect on you was that immense. “Maybe my parents should adopt you. My dad likes you just fine.”
You didn’t realize when he made you lay on your back as he was towering over you with leaning on his one strong elbow to prevent crushing his weight over you. “No, Yoongi. I’m not settled for being your step sister.” You whispered with your closed eyes. Your dizzy mind refused to calculate passing minutes as you were enjoying sensations rushed through your veins. “I’m going to be your bride, don't you know that?”
"I'll take you as wife-" His breath hitched when he seemed to speak more to himself. "Just the thought of it makes me feel like I am the ruler of this whole fucking universe." You giggled as you leaned to peck his lips. With Yoongi around you, it was that easy for you to feel the happiest woman in the world even if you felt like you freaked out just seconds ago. He was notorious for being a grumpy cat for a reason, yet he was different with you. Definitely much more caring.
"Tell me Professor Min, would you let me attend your classes as a guest?" He whispered just above your ear as his fingers doing their magic below your prim and proper knee-length skirt, stroking your thighs possessively. "You know, I can be very beneficial for your academic research. Reproduction is something still so mysterious, we could find new evidences if we sacrifice ourselves to the science world."
"My mother wouldn't let me be one." Indeed, it was true. Following your dreams would never be on the silver plate that served for you. The only thing that they expected from you was to wrap this handsome man of yours around your finger. Little did they know was that he was already willing to die for you. "She prefers me to become a pretty little housewife."
"It would be a shame if I can't see you with cute glasses and tight formal skirts. I'd pass your classes with excellent grades-" He trailed his fingers on your covered pussy as he shamelessly spoke to your ear. "I'd be a good pet for my professor."
"What an encouraging husband we have here." You erotically whispered between your wet kisses along a way between his cheek to his jawline. Forgetting your parents' existence downstairs, he couldn't hold back a moan when his nostrils filled with sweet patchouli and rose essence lingering on your freshly shampooed hair.
Not that he cared, he would fight hell to hold you.
"You know I'd do anything to make you happy, my beautiful dove." You brought your thumb to his lips and softly stroke his bottom lip, he didn't lose any second to capture your thumb with his lips, slowly sucked it while his heated gaze fixed on your eyes.
"Then would you let me ride you?"
Without waiting for his response, you flipped him over and switched your positions in a heartbeat. He rested his arms under his head as he was anticipating your next move. You got rid of your panties hastily. Your soon-to-be husband boyfriend gave you a cheeky smile while you try to satiate the frustration between your legs onto his growing member covered by his expensive pants. "So this is the night I'm going to deflower you."
You wrapped your delicate hand around Yoongi's neck as you try to give him as pleasure as you could feel.
"Shut up. Just feel." As your mouth hung open from the immense pleasure you feel, Yoongi groped your waist just to make sure if he was still alive and this feeling he felt was not something he would put blame on his dirty imagination when it came to you. "You're saving it for your husband, huh? I see." When you tried to slap his chest with a growl he immediately got a grip of them and encaged between his large hands. He started to thrust up into you when you both feel you're not going to last.
Your whimpers exchanged between "yoongi" and "faster" right before you both reached your high.
"Feeling better?" He asked when he tried to catch his breathing. You giggled sweetly as you placed your figure right beside his body. "Yes."
#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#bts smut#min yoongi smut#min yoongi#yoongi#bts x reader#yoongi angst#yoongi fanfiction
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Sinful Lust | ch 5 (myg & jjk)
☆summary: On a rainy night in May, everything is bound to break. Hearts that once beat as one, now break in time with the tide. What will be left in the end?
☆pairing: bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi x female!reader x Jungkook
☆rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)
☆genre: mostly angst, smut, snippets of life!au
☆warnings: mentions of what happened between Jungkook and OC in ch 4, cheating, cursing, momentary trip to the hospital, mentions of bullying and getting beaten up, mentions of alcoholic parent, mentions of domestic abuse, explicit content: protected sex in a semi-public environment, fingering, squirting, anal sex, car sex
☆word count: 8.3k
☆a/n: This one is really sad. We learn more about Jungkook's past, and we see everything crashing down. Please don't hate me for this :') Annnnd thank you @moonleeai as always for beta-ing this fic <3
☆a/n pt2: I do not own BTS or any of the members. I do not know what they are like irl (I do not claim to know their personalities, sexual orientations, beliefs, etc.). This fic is just a work of fiction, so please keep that in mind while reading
☆series masterpost
☆☆☆☆☆
May is rainy. You watch the world outside – it’s turned grey weeks ago, and the sun has yet to show up. Or at least it feels that way, and you’re slightly annoyed as you once again look out the window, only to be greeted by drops of water racing each other on the glass.
You don’t mind the rain. You never really did. But you don’t like feeling like you’re not doing anything, and the book you’ve been trying to read since you got home from work just isn’t cutting it.
Or maybe it’s the fact that Yoongi is once again going to be home late tonight. You don’t know what project he’s been working on – whenever you’ve asked questions about it, he was super evasive. But like clockwork, every night for three weeks Yoongi got home late after work, claiming that he is too tired to do anything with you.
You don’t blame him. He’s been working crazy hours, but you just miss his presence. Now, whenever you get to actually spend some time together he also invites Jungkook, and you feel like your relationship with Yoongi just isn’t what it used to be.
When you brought it up to him last week, he said that he was too tired to talk about it, and he kissed the side of your head before rolling to the other side of the bed. The dismissal was clear, and it’s been making you feel dreadful, like every breath you take is missing just a little bit of oxygen, making your lungs burn and heart beat harder in your chest as it tries to compensate.
You know what changed everything. You saw it in slow motion – that night you’d woken Yoongi up because of Jungkook. That same night you had fucked Yoongi on Facetime while Jungkook watched and guided the two of you.
Yoongi hasn’t looked at you the same way since then. You hate it, hate the distance that’s wedged itself between you and him, but you don’t know how to fix it.
No amount of cuddling or affection or loving words seem to be enough to bring Yoongi back from the place his mind wandered to when he saw what you and Jungkook had been texting about.
It was a mistake. You know it today, and you wish you could take it back.
Wish you could take the whole ordeal back.
But you can’t, and you’ve been trying to be better. To treat Yoongi better, to make sure you don’t overstep the boundaries, though you reckon that night you went flying over the line at the speed of light.
You sigh, leaning your head back against the couch. You’ve been trying to read your favourite book – the one Yoongi bought for you on your first date, annotated in the margins with all of his thoughts on it. But every time you see his handwriting, every time you read what he left behind, your heart just hurts a little more.
You’ve suggested calling off this whole thing with Jungkook. Yoongi laughed and said that he didn’t want to stop. It was strange to see him like that – like he isn’t the same man you once fell in love with anymore. But then again you reckon you haven’t been the same either.
How could you be the same after experiencing Jeon Jungkook?
Jungkook, too, has changed. He doesn’t smile with you as much as he used to, and sometimes you feel like he’s forcing himself. Like he doesn’t want to be there, but just like you and Yoongi, he doesn’t know how to stop.
It’s a mess. Everything is a mess, and you wish you’d know how to fix it.
But you don’t, and so you force your eyes to skim over the lines of the book, reading words that used to be familiar and now feel like excerpts from a different life.
*****
Yoongi likes the rain. It’s calm, soothing, and he feels like the world stops rushing when it’s under the clouds. Like he can sit back, relax and enjoy the coffee on the table in front of him. He’s ordered it black, and though it’s a little too warm, he still enjoys every single sip he takes of it.
Jimin isn’t here yet. But Yoongi doesn’t mind – he likes watching the droplets of water racing on the window. It keeps his thoughts busy, keeps them from running back to you and Jungkook and the night you fucking sexted with Jungkook while he was sleeping next to you.
His first thought had been to be mad at you, but then he’d figured he could twist this to his advantage. Because he knew you and Jungkook both felt guilty, and it now shows in the way you take care of him.
And maybe he is sick and twisted for enjoying the sex life like this, but he reckons he deserves it after you’ve cheated on him.
He’s aware he should confront you. Should tell you how it made him feel, even though you were quick to make sure Yoongi was involved too. The situation just broke some part of him, and he highly doubts it will ever be fixed. For now, he’s just content as he sits back and enjoys what’s left of the relationship before it goes up in flames.
He never knew he was such a petty person. Or maybe getting involved with Jeon Jungkook just brought out the worst of him. Which, he reckons, he should have expected. Because Jungkook has a tendency to do that to all of the relationships Yoongi has seen him involved in.
It’s no wonder he’s never had a girlfriend.
The bell by the doors of the café rings, and Yoongi knows it’s Jimin before he’s even looked towards the entrance. Maybe because he’s too aware of Jimin now – he’s been searching for the man in every room, every crowd, ever since that night that changed everything.
He has to confront you. He’s aware that lying about staying at work late isn’t all that better than what you did. But Jimin is like the rain – he’s soothing, calming, and maybe it helps with fixing the jagged pieces of Yoongi’s broken heart and trust, and he likes keeping that part of his life to himself.
At least for now.
Jimin’s smile is blinding when he sits in front of Yoongi. He’s got a tote bag, and he pulls two books out before he even says hello.
“I got us some reading for tonight,” Jimin finally says, and he shakes the water from his hair. And then the smile falls into the soft one that renders Yoongi unable to think as he says, “Thank you for the coffee.”
Because Yoongi memorized Jimin’s coffee order the first time they got coffee together. It came far too naturally to him – you’re the one he used to remember everything about so easily. But things have changed. You’ve been slipping down a slope, and he knows the end won’t be positive.
“Thank you for the book,” Yoongi says right as he takes the one Jimin offers him.
His blood turns to ice in his veins. He tries not to let it show on his face, even though he freezes right on the spot, as if he’s been suddenly sent straight to orbit with no atmosphere around him to keep his body warm anymore.
It’s the book he and you read on your first date, five years ago. He’d filled it with notes for you, and he knows you keep it in the first drawer of your night table, as if it’s a Bible you like to read to fall asleep every night.
“Something wrong?” Jimin gently asks, his smile slowly wavering until it disappears entirely.
“Sorry…” Yoongi apologizes, though he doesn’t really know what for.
He’s not entirely sure Jimin is the one he should be apologizing to right now.
“It’s just…” he adds when Jimin doesn’t say anything, looking confused. “That’s my girlfriend’s favourite book.”
Jimin looks alarmed. His eyes widen, and he tries to take the book back, though Yoongi holds onto it.
“I’m so sorry,” Jimin says. “I thought… my granddad said it was a good book, so I figured why not?”
“It really is,” Yoongi quickly replies, hoping it would bring back Jimin’s easy smile.
Jimin gulps, looking down at the copy he saved for himself. “Well…” He chuckles, and it’s a little awkward. “I guess we can say your girlfriend has good taste.”
There’s a deeper meaning behind Jimin’s words. Yoongi hears it right away, and something stirs in his chest. Blush creeps on his cheeks, and he tries to push it away, as far away as he can, but he finds he’s too weak to do so.
“She does.”
At that Jimin looks up to meet his gaze again. “Do you still want to read it, though? I know things haven’t been great with her…”
Yoongi has been confiding in Jimin. He hasn’t been able to speak to anyone from his group of friends, mostly because all of them are friends with Jungkook too. They don’t know about what’s been going on, and Yoongi doesn’t want to tell them either.
Though he thinks Namjoon might know, even if he’s never said anything about it.
So he’s been confiding in Jimin instead. Every night that they meet for coffee, or those that Yoongi goes to help at Seojun’s bookstore. It’s been like therapy for him, though he reckons Jimin might not be the person he should be confiding in.
Not when the crush he has for the man feels a little too real.
Another thought that he pushes away, or tries to. He’s not sure that it works, but it does chase Jungkook and you out of his thoughts.
“We can read it if you want,” he tells Jimin. “I promise it’s worth the read.”
Jimin offers him a careful smile. “Sounds good.” He pauses, cheeks tinting with pink as he looks down at the coffee Yoongi got for him. “Next time I’ll let you choose the book.”
*****
Jungkook shifts, keeping his features cool and composed as the shutter of the camera goes off. He tilts his head to the side for the next picture, then looks away. He’s been at it for what feels like hours now, and he frankly can’t wait to be done.
Though the work has been a well-deserved reprieve from his churning thoughts.
He moves into another pose, staring down the camera with a slight frown on his features, head tilted back. The camera shutter goes off again, and he’s about to move into another position when the director yells, “Cut!”
Jungkook breaks into a smile, though he doesn’t really know why. Maybe because he actually likes this – the posing, the modelling, feeling as if he’s the shit for a moment.
It helps him forget that you are Yoongi’s, and not his.
Jungkook walks away from where they were shooting, and the fashion designer that chose the outfits for the day approaches him, a smile on her lips.
A pretty smile that matches her equally pretty features. Boring though – they’re lacking something that he can’t quite put a finger on.
“You did great,” she compliments him as they near a table with snacks and water bottles for the staff.
Jungkook grabs a water bottle, opening it and taking a long, refreshing sip. “It was all you,” he flirts back, though he wasn’t quite sure she was flirting to begin with.
When he notices her features turning a light shade of pink, he knows he hit his mark.
“Please,” she says, scoffing as she shakes her head in a self-deprecating manner. “I barely did anything.”
He smirks. “Give yourself some credit, you did a good job.”
She wets her lips, the tint on her cheeks darkening. “Well then, thank you.”
There’s a silence as he drinks some more, and she grabs a quarter of an egg sandwich that she bites in with her head turned away from him. He imitates her, grabbing some for himself, only then realizing that he’s famished.
So he eats his fill with her next to him, in a silence that ought to be uncomfortable but isn’t quite so. And maybe it’s the way she eyes him, like he’s the dessert, that leads him to suggest heading somewhere quiet.
He sees the debate, the conflict in her eyes, because clearly this would be unprofessional. And she’s pretty, wearing a fashionable outfit that looks like she belongs in a lawyer office more than on a photoshoot. It hugs her frame right, and when she turns he gets a good look at her ass, at how the fabric stretches on her…
And he feels his dick slowly hardening.
“If we get caught, I’ll lose my job,” she answers, voice low as her gaze falls to the floor as if she’s ashamed.
As if she didn’t approach him for this in the first place.
“Then you’ll have to keep silent, mmh?” Jungkook fires back, voice low and sultry.
He sees the instant she folds. It’s in the way she bites her lips, and somehow the gesture is too familiar, sending a pang through his heart as you take over his thoughts.
Yet he follows the woman, watching her ponytail swing left and right with every step she takes. She leads him to an unused dressing room, and he catches sight of the rainy world outside as she locks the door behind them.
A rainy world, to match the rainy thoughts that have been clouding him.
She takes a step towards him, and though he’s faced away from her, she touches him, hand moving shyly on his back. He’s not sure he likes the shyness – he prefers your confidence, the way you touch him like he’s yours.
And maybe he is. Maybe he’s been for a lot longer than he’ll ever admit to anyone.
He turns around, forcing his lips into what he hopes is a lustful smirk. Eyes slightly narrowed, he looks down at the girl, and he realizes he doesn’t even remember her name.
He doesn’t care. He still crashes his lips on hers, pushing her back until she hits the door. And a moment later they are naked from the waist down, and her legs are around him as he pounds into her, her fingers digging in his shoulders as she lets out breathy sounds.
She feels good. He can’t deny it – her pussy squeezes his dick just right. But once again there’s just something lacking, and frustration slowly takes over him until he carries her to a desk, so that he can put her down and fuck her harder, trying to get rid of the frustration.
But it never goes away. No matter who he fucks, the frustration clings to him like a second skin, like he’s been cursed and will forever be haunted.
So he fucks the girl, holds her waist possessively even though he doesn’t give a shit about her. His eyes trail to the world outside – the raindrops are rolling on the window, partaking in a race he’s never understood.
He doesn’t mind the rain. Prefers cloudy or sunny weather over it, only because it makes riding his bike more fun, but he doesn’t mind the rain. He just feels as if the world goes too slow when it’s raining, as if his thoughts are one second away from catching up to him.
They always are. Always are far too close for comfort, as if he’s about to lose the race. And he knows he is – he feels how everything has been shifting between you and Yoongi. It all changed that night you and he sexted while Yoongi was asleep. Yoongi has been more demanding, colder, and Jungkook can tell that Yoongi’s detaching himself from the situation. Perhaps as a coping mechanism, so that he won’t feel the emotions.
Jungkook envies his friend for being able to do so, as his own emotions have been choking him. Until he can barely breathe, until he doesn’t even feel the girl as she squirms under him.
He doesn’t come. He gets bored before he does, pulling out so that he can finger her instead, mechanically. He does it until she comes, until she squirts all over the floor, and then he tells her he has to go. Tells her thank you, and tells her that he’ll reach out to hang out again soon.
He won’t. It’s just something he found helps with ghosting in general. Which, he knows he’ll ghost her.
He’s ghosted everyone that got close to him after he’s started fucking you and Yoongi. Because no one ever compares to you, and he frankly doesn’t even want to find someone else.
He leaves the girl behind, leaves that dressing room to find his, where he takes a quick shower before changing into his own clothes. He grabs his motorcycle helmet, curses the rain as a few minutes later he’s rolling on the streets.
And when he’s home, he immediately uncorks his whiskey bottle, pouring himself a large glass that he drinks watching the rain outside, wondering why is it that he got attached to the only thing he’ll never have.
*****
It’s almost midnight when you realize that Yoongi might not be coming back home tonight. You texted him twice in the evening, and though your messages were delivered he still hasn’t read them.
You know he never checks his phone when he’s at work, but you highly doubt he’s still at work at this hour. And though you’re wearing one of his shirts, he’s never felt as much of a stranger as he does right now.
You try to forget it by looking at pictures of moments passed, of days and nights with him years ago when you believed he was the love of your life.
And though you still believe he is, you’re realizing that he doesn’t feel the same about you anymore. That somewhere between that first night with Jungkook and today, Yoongi changed.
You’re not stupid. You know exactly what caused the change, and you can’t help but hate yourself for it. To hate Jungkook, to hate Yoongi, for accepting to get involved with Jungkook. You should have known better – should have chosen someone you didn’t know.
Fear takes a hold of your heart, and you sit up in bed.
Is Yoongi with Jungkook, doing to you what you did to him weeks ago?
It hurts. You reckon it hurts and it’s hard to breathe, but then again you could never be mad at him for doing something with Jungkook without you being there. You think it’d be normal that the two friends got closer after having fucked – you yourself got a lot closer to Jungkook. But the thought still makes your blood feel like liquid acid, burning up your insides until you force yourself to grab your phone.
You go to your text messages as you worry at your bottom lip, pulling at the bit of dry skin you find there. Even through the anxiety that’s slowly taking hold of you, you make a mental note to do a lip mask soon, to help with the dryness.
It’s the only normal thought you are bound to have tonight, isn’t it? Because you immediately text Jungkook, asking if he knows where Yoongi is. And through a blurry vision you wait for his reply, your teeth now nibbling at your nails in an anxious manner you thought you’d gotten rid of years ago.
To your surprise, Jungkook replies in under five minutes.
[00:07 am] Jungkook: no clue
[00:08 am] Jungkook: is something wrong
You don’t know how to answer. You think everything went wrong a while ago. You think Yoongi is sand slipping through your fingers, or perhaps he’s turned into the void between the stars where there used to be light. You think that though spring is reigning over the world outside, winter has found the land of your soul, and you’re not sure it’s ever going to leave.
[00:09 am] You: idk…
[00:09 am] You: he said he’d be at work until late tonight but it’s past midnight…
[00:10 am] You: he’s just an accountant, wtf would an accountant do at work so late at night
Jungkook’s reply takes a while to come in. As if he too needed to take a moment to analyze the situation, to face the gravity of it. Or you’re the only one that feels like the ground has slipped beneath your feet, and you’re about to go over the edge of the cliff.
[00:16 am] Jungkook: I can pick you up and we can go see if his car is at his job
Your eyes slide to the world outside. You haven’t pulled the curtains shut before lying in bed, as if you’d see Yoongi coming home this way even though you live on the upper levels of the building. But you do notice that rain seems to have given way to fog, though it isn’t thick enough to make driving in the night dangerous.
But would it be a good idea? To go chasing the night searching for Yoongi?
And then an entire other scenario takes a hold of you. Steals the breath from your lungs, makes your whole body hurt as if you’ve been set on fire.
What if he’s hurt? What if he got in a car crash on his way home, and he never made it?
What if he’s lying somewhere in a ditch, just waiting to be found?
You don’t fight the tears. Don’t fight a single one of them as they come pouring, just like the rain earlier today.
[00:18 am] You: would you mind?
Jungkook’s reply comes right away this time around.
[00:18 am] Jungkook: ofc not, I’ll be there in 20
So you get dressed, putting on a pair of black sweatpants along with a thick long-sleeved sweater. You stand by the door as you wait for Jungkook to arrive, almost hoping that Yoongi will be the one to cross the threshold first.
As you wait, you watch yourself in the mirror. You look distressed – eyes bloodshot from the tears that keep coming and going, dark bags under your gaze from the lack of sleep. Because of course you haven’t been sleeping well.
How could you sleep well when you’ve been feeling the love of your life slipping through your fingers?
Jungkook gets here faster than twenty minutes. You don’t want to ask how fast he was driving, especially not as his first reaction when you open the door is to pull you to his chest, holding you tight against him. Your tears free fall again, and you grab a hold of his jacket in your fists, clenching them on the fabric so hard you think it might rip. If Jungkook cares he doesn’t say it, instead lowering his head to rest his cheek on the top of your head.
“I’m sure he’s okay,” he tells you, voice velvety soft in its reassurance. “He’s okay.”
That second sentence feels like it was uttered more for Jungkook than for you. You reckon Jungkook does care for Yoongi. Probably more than as a friend, now that he’s been sleeping with you both.
“He has to be,” you reply, lips trembling.
Jungkook holds you tighter and he turns until his lips softly land a kiss to the side of your head. In the heaviness of the moment, it grounds you, and you pull away just enough to look at Jungkook.
His big eyes meet yours, and you wish you could read him. Though you think you’re starting to be able to, and you don’t want to see what’s in his eyes. So you take a step back, and he sucks on his piercing, before nodding once.
“I brought an extra helmet for you,” he says, and he hands it to you.
You look at it as if it’s a foreign thing to you. And it is – you’ve never ridden a bike before.
“You came with your bike?” you ask, carefully drying the tears that slipped on your cheeks.
He nods. “I do have a car but it’s at the repair shop right now.”
You let out a noncommittal sound as you grab the helmet, testing the weight in your hands, wondering what it’ll feel like on your head. Jungkook watches as you do so, still toying with his piercing mindlessly.
“Ready?”
You take a deep breath, pushing away the image of Yoongi dead in a ditch from your mind, before nodding your head.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
*****
Yoongi didn’t see the time fly. When the café owner told him and Jimin that they were closing for the night, Yoongi’s gaze had widened. He’d been so into the book, rereading it for the first time in years, that he really hadn’t seen the time fly.
But he doesn’t really mind. He should, he knows he should, but Jimin is great company, so he doesn’t. He walks behind Jimin outside, avoiding puddles left over by the rain earlier. The rain has ceased now, but the world smells of it still, and the pavement reflects the orange glow of the streetlights as if it’s a mirror.
“Good thing it’s not raining anymore,” Jimin comments, looking over his shoulder at Yoongi.
Yoongi cocks an eyebrow. “You don’t like the rain?”
“I do,” Jimin answers as he turns back to look where he’s going. “But I don’t like driving in the rain, you know?”
Yoongi mindlessly walks a little faster until he’s able to walk side by side with Jimin, and his cheeks burn as their hands brush against each other. He pretends nothing happened, and so does Jimin.
And even though his heart is thundering in his chest, Yoongi says, “Yeah, driving in the rain does suck.”
“Don’t take me wrong though,” Jimin adds quickly. “It was all worth it tonight.”
Yoongi gulps. “It was?”
There’s silence, and Yoongi thinks about you for a time. He wonders if you’re waiting for him. He’s seen your texts, and maybe he’s an asshole for not replying, but he feels like something changed today.
Or maybe something broke, he’s not sure. He just knows that he can’t bring himself to answer you, and he also doesn’t want to go home right now. It does make him sad, for a fraction of a second. Because once upon a time you meant the world to him. You just don’t anymore.
“I like spending time with you, Yoongi,” Jimin says, voice soft, as he brushes his hand against Yoongi’s again.
Yoongi instinctively pulls his hand away, yet he still answers, “Me too.”
It’s the truth. He does enjoy every second he spends with Jimin. Perhaps because Jimin is easy, easier than you. Easier than this whole mess that is Jungkook and you and the threesomes.
Jimin stops, and Yoongi follows suit a step ahead. He turns around to look at Jimin, and the slightly pained expression on Jimin’s features feels like his heart has been stabbed, and he almost instinctively rubs at his chest, over the spot that aches.
“Why are you staying with her?” Jimin asks.
Why? Why indeed. Yoongi doesn’t even know – maybe he’s just too bad with confrontation. Maybe he doesn’t want to break your heart – though he knows Jungkook would be quick to fix it. Maybe it’s the familiarity of his life with you that’s keeping him from doing it. Maybe it’s the fear of losing something that was once great.
He really doesn’t know.
And as he stands there, holding Jimin’s gaze, Yoongi realizes something. Something he probably has known for a while, but refused to acknowledge. He’s stopped loving you a long time ago. Because you’re not the one that he loves anymore.
No, that person is Jimin.
Even though it breaks him, Yoongi closes the space between him and Jimin, grabbing the younger man’s cheeks softly as he presses his lips on Jimin’s.
Jimin is quick to kiss him back, to sigh against Yoongi’s mouth as he takes even a step closer. Jimin’s hands grab at the lapels of Yoongi’s coat, pulling him flush against him. Yoongi wonders if Jimin can feel the wild beats of his heart in his chest, where his fists rest against him.
When Jimin sighs again, Yoongi slips his tongue between his plump lips, and this time Jimin lets out a breathy sound that electrifies Yoongi as if he’s been hit by lightning.
He doesn’t think about you then. Doesn’t think about Jungkook either. All there is in the land of his mind is Jimin, and Jimin’s kiss is healing.
Jimin’s presence in his life has been healing since the very first day Yoongi saw him.
“Come home with me tonight,” Jimin breathes when they pull away.
Yoongi rests his forehead against Jimin’s, still gently cupping the man’s cheeks. “I can’t.”
Jimin doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps holding on to Yoongi. And Yoongi wishes the moment could stop – he feels the guilt slowly creeping in on him.
“Why did you kiss me?”
Because he wanted to. Yet Yoongi can’t bring himself to tell Jimin. Not when he thinks of you at home, waiting for him, not knowing that he’s been out at night falling in love with someone else for weeks now.
“I need to go home…”
Jimin bristles, and he steps away from Yoongi. He looks hurt, and rightfully so. Though Yoongi doubts Jimin’s pain even comes close to what you’ll feel when he’ll tell you what happened.
If he tells you.
“Alright then,” Jimin says, and there’s bitterness in his tone. In the way he furrows his brows, features turning harsh, cold. “Go home to her.”
It occurs to Yoongi that Jimin has probably been jealous of you for a while now. Has probably wanted Yoongi for longer than Yoongi has even wanted him.
Would he be a fool to let him slip away?
Would it change anything if he kissed Jimin again?
He tells himself he’s just trying to smooth the lines between Jimin’s brows when he does so. When he pulls Jimin flush against him, and their teeth collide as they kiss languidly. Jimin tastes sweet, even as the taste of coffee lingers in his mouth. It’s not as bitter as it should be – not when Jimin kisses so damn well.
So Yoongi lets himself forget about you for a time. Lets the part of him that’s been aching since that night you and Jungkook sexted take control. Maybe he’s trying to get revenge. Maybe he’s trying to hurt you like you hurt him. He doesn’t know.
Maybe he’s just stupid – he could have broken up with you before getting together with Jimin. But he thinks he’s made his decision weeks ago now, that first time he hung out with Jimin saying that he was staying at work late.
So when Jimin once again asks Yoongi to come home with him, he says yes. He follows Jimin to his car, though they only make it to the backseat. And as Jimin rides his cock, moaning as his fingers dig into Yoongi’s shoulders, rain starts again, drowning out the sounds of their passion.
*****
Yoongi’s car wasn’t in the parking lot of his job. Jungkook refused to tell you what he thought was going on. Not as you started crying again, and asked if he could drive you to the nearest hospital. Because the second Jungkook saw that Yoongi’s car wasn’t there, and you admitted that Yoongi had been coming home later and later every day, Jungkook knew that Yoongi has been cheating on you.
So Jungkook agreed to drive you to the nearest hospital, and you’re halfway there now. Your arms are wrapped around his waist, and you’re a comforting warmth behind him. He wishes he could stop your heart from breaking, wishes he could take the pain away so that you wouldn’t have to experience it at all.
Fuck, even he is hurting. Because Yoongi and you ending means you and him will end too, and he doesn’t think he’s ready to let that go. So when they tell you that they don’t have anyone under the name of Min Yoongi at that first hospital, and you ask to go to another one, Jungkook drives you.
He tries to enjoy your closeness as much as he can, even as rain starts again, though it’s barely even pouring. He drives carefully, slower than he usually does on his bike. And when your arms tighten around him, he hopes you can’t feel his heart breaking in his chest.
You don’t declare yourself defeated until after the fourth hospital. Jungkook waits with you in the lobby as you sit on a bench, head hanging low. You’re not crying, but he can almost hear your thoughts where he’s standing next to you.
They’re even louder when he sits next to you, and you shift infinitesimally closer to him, as if you need his support.
Voice small, you say, “What if he was kidnapped?”
And Jungkook reckons maybe you’re refusing to face the truth. Like a coping mechanism – you’d rather paint Yoongi in a thousand different perspectives instead of one where he’d cheat on you. It shows Jungkook just how much you love your boyfriend, and for a moment he’s struck dumb, wishing that that night five years ago he’d been the one to approach you at the bar.
Even if you had clearly declined giving your number to him. He doesn’t know if you remember, and he’s pretty sure now is not the right time to ask.
“Maybe he’ll answer me,” Jungkook carefully says, and he feels stupid for not texting or calling Yoongi before.
And so he grabs his phone as you watch him, hope etched on your features. He feels like he’s a monster, like he’s about to take your heart and throw it to the rocks at the foot of the metaphorical cliff you’re standing on.
Because he sees it. He sees the pain in your features, sees the way you’re holding onto one last thread. He doesn’t want to be the one to cut it, but then again he’d be there to catch you.
He’s been waiting to catch you. It’s selfish, terribly so, and he looks away from you to call Yoongi.
Yoongi picks up on the third ring.
“Hello?” he lets out, sounding a little breathless.
You freeze. You freeze, unblinking, as if you were on a screen and Jungkook pressed pause.
“Hey, hyung?” Jungkook says.
There’s some mumbling on the other side of the line, all the confirmation that he needs to know Yoongi is indeed cheating on you.
“Why are you calling?” Yoongi asks, and he sounds annoyed.
Jungkook hates himself for what he says next. “Are you okay? Y/n is worried about you.”
There’s a pause on the other side of the line. As if Yoongi is holding his breath, as perhaps he’s faced with the consequences of what he’s doing.
“Yeah, everything is okay. You can tell her I’m heading home.”
Jungkook nods, still not looking at you. He’s not ready to face the destruction head on. “Okay, I’ll let her know.”
And then Yoongi is hanging up, not saying anything else. Jungkook doesn’t move, sitting in silence in the artificial light of that hospital lobby, watching people in scrubs and casual clothing walking around as if the world has not just stopped for you next to him.
“He must have been at work, then,” you murmur. “Maybe we just didn’t see his car.”
Jungkook hears his heart shattering on the tiles of the floor at the innocence in your voice. He says your name like you’re a fragile porcelain, like his hands are too clumsy to ever dare to hold you.
“Please,” is all you say.
He understands. So he asks, “Do you want to head home?”
“No.”
He nods, and he finally looks at you. Finally looks at your pale features, and the utter lack of feeling in your eyes. It hits so hard he thinks he gets a concussion from it, and he watches you, mind spinning in pain and sadness.
And though he wants to apologize, wants to say that it’s all his fault, all he manages to say is, “There’s a place I go to when I need to think. Do you want me to take you there?”
You meet his gaze, and he realizes you weren’t focusing on him before. Because now that you do he feels as if a train just ran into him, and he wishes he wouldn’t be able to feel. Yet he feels – feels for you and your broken heart. For Yoongi, who sacrificed you, and for what?
“Sure,” is all you reply.
So even if it’s raining, Jungkook starts driving you to that place where he went to weeks ago, where the sky meets the ocean and he can just stop thinking for a moment. He makes sure you hold him tight, though when the rain doubles up you’re forced to stop under a bridge, the last one before you’ll exit the city proper.
You climb down from his bike, and Jungkook watches you as you stand to the side. You don’t remove the helmet, as if it’s shelter for your broken eyes, and he doesn’t force you to. He removes his, puts it on the seat and then stands closer to you.
He just now realizes that your clothes aren’t made to ride in the rain. So he removes his jacket, handing it to you.
“Put this on, you’re going to catch a cold.”
You don’t move, and so Jungkook walks behind you, gently draping it over you. He shivers as he moves back in front of you, and he watches the reflections of the streetlights in the visor of your helmet as you just stand there, entirely motionless.
“We’ll keep going as soon as the rain stops,” he tells you. He grabs his phone from his pocket, going to the weather app. “Which should be in about twenty minutes.”
At that you turn towards the pillar of the bridge, and then make your way to it so that you can sit with your back to it. There’s something so defeated in the gesture that convinces Jungkook to make his way to you, sitting next to you even though he reckons it probably is unsanitary.
He can always wash the clothes later. He’s not sure he can afford to wait to keep you from breaking so thoroughly that no amount of fixing would bring you back.
“When I was a kid,” Jungkook starts, not knowing where to go, “I got bullied a lot.”
You don’t react, and he’s not sure if you’re listening. He just needs to fill the silence with truth, and so he decides to give you a piece of himself he’s never given to anyone before.
“Like a lot,” he continues. “It got to a point where older kids would beat me up. And my parents didn’t really want to do anything because they wanted me to fit in. But one day my father told me to punch them back.”
He remembers everything with vivid clarity. He remembers being nine years old, terrified to go to school because he wasn’t sure he’d survive the day. He remembers the stitches he’d needed on his cheek when they’d punch so hard it cut his skin open. He remembers the taste of the blood in his mouth when his lip split with the force of the punches. He remembers everything in such vivid clarity that he feels as if he’s been taken back then.
“And so I did,” he adds. “I punched back, and I quickly realized that I was good at it. So I started boxing.” He pauses, looking towards you. “But I wanted to be an artist. I wanted to paint, or maybe to sing. I’ve always loved singing.”
At that you do move. You take off the helmet, and the sight of your bloodshot eyes as tears roll freely on your cheeks makes him want to reach out, to hold you.
But he doesn’t dare do it, doesn’t want to take advantage of you.
“I’ve never heard you sing,” you say, voice raucous from crying.
He shrugs. “I don’t sing in front of people.”
You nod, and then fall into silence as you just look to the side. Jungkook looks in the same direction, watching the rain fall on and on, endlessly. It doesn’t seem like it’s going to let up anytime soon, so he figures he needs to say something else, to find something that might take the pain away from your eyes. And so he thinks about the rest of the story, thinks about what he left out from what he just told you.
“My dad was an alcoholic,” he admits, and your face turns towards him so fast he wouldn’t be surprised if you got whiplashed. “He beat my mom whenever he got too drunk. Never once touched me or my brother. But when I was old enough, when I finally knew how to fight, I protected her.”
What you do then entirely undoes Jungkook. He feels raw, like everything inside of him opens up, and he’s just left with this downpour of emotions, something that matches the rain beyond the bridge, this safe haven he’s found with you.
You put your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him. To hold him, to keep him from breaking. Or at least that’s what it feels like.
It feels like you’re his salvation, and he knows you’ve always been anyway.
“He beat me so hard I ended up in the hospital,” Jungkook continues. “We fled the day I got out. My mom, my brother and I. We never once looked back.”
“I’m sorry,” you murmur.
He shrugs. “Please don’t be. I’m okay now.”
You don’t answer anything to that, just hold him tighter. And Jungkook watches the rain, listens to the soothing sound of it, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He doesn’t know why he chose this moment to reveal his demons to you – why he chose to make this about him. He feels horrible for it, but when you look at him next, he wonders if maybe you needed to hear something of the sort.
Needed to know that though there are horrors in this world, one can always make it out of it if they keep pushing on.
“You’re a beautiful person, inside,” you tell him. “I should have realized before.”
The lump in his throat grows too big for him to swallow it, and a tear rolls down his cheek. You dry it with infinite softness, and then you share a look. It seems to last an eternity, but you eventually glance away, and he thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe.
“Looks like the rain has stopped,” you say as your gaze stops on the street beyond the bridge.
Jungkook snaps out of the moment, looking in the same direction. “Seems so.”
His voice is rough, raw and filled with emotions he never expected he’d face with you. Yet he did, and he’s not afraid. He just hopes he can bring you comfort tonight, so that you aren’t afraid, too. So that you know that, even though the next few days are going to be hell, you don’t have to face them alone.
“Where is that place you wanted to show me?”
He smiles through the emotions, through the pain and the fear and the memory of what you and Yoongi are – were. Of what he and Yoongi are. Of what they will be when you’ll eventually go home to Yoongi. Though he doesn’t think you’ll really go home to Yoongi. After what Yoongi’s done…
The fear doubles up, freezes up his blood. Because what if he’s the one you leave behind? What if you forgive Yoongi, and Yoongi forgives you? He knows you both love each other. Or at least he knows you love Yoongi.
Will you even break up with Yoongi?
And even if you don’t, does he want to leave you alone tonight?
He chooses not to, getting up and offering you a hand. You take it, and he pulls you to your feet. Holds your gaze as you stand right in front of him, not letting go of his hand. He looks at your lips, remembering kissing you. Remembering every searing kiss, every embrace he’s hoped meant more.
Did they mean anything to you? Only time will tell.
You step back, letting go of his hand, and take off his jacket so that he can put it back on. He wants to refuse, but you’re adamant. So he gives in, puts it back on, and then you’re back on the road, heading to the ocean. Jungkook didn’t realize how much time passed until you get to the spot overlooking the sea, and the horizon is slightly lighter than the sky overhead.
You stand by the ocean, wind whipping at your hair, but the rain is entirely gone now. The air is warmer than one would expect for a late night or early morning of May, though the ocean mist is freezing. You don’t seem like you care: you stand by the water, watching the waves hit the rock as if you’re a queen overlooking her subjects.
And Jungkook watches you, unable to tear his gaze away from you, until you start crying again. But you cry in silence, don’t let the sobs shake you, as you stare at the horizon. As you watch the sun as it slowly rises, painting the clouds in liquid gold. You watch the beauty of nature, while Jungkook watches yours, wondering if this is one of his last moments with you.
He’ll let you go if that’s what you want. If, in the end, you and Yoongi choose each other.
So he watches your features, watches you break, watches you compose yourself until the clouds are no longer gold, and you ask him to go home. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of, only that he feels like the clock is about to hit its last second, and he wants to hold on.
But he’ll let you go.
*****
You watch the sunrise from that cliff over the ocean, listening to the waves crashing against the rocks. You understand why Jungkook brought you here – there’s some sort of serenity in the air, like your life is inconsequential.
Like breaking and healing and breaking again are just part of the cycle of nature, of life. Like the sunrise – it doesn’t stop. Every day it comes back, a promise that no pain can last forever. So you embrace the pain. Let it tear at you. You’d expected to break in screams and yells and sobs and curses, but you break in tears, silently rolling down your cheeks. You break in watching the sunrise, peacefully, just an astral body fully unaware of your woes.
And you also break for the man next to you. Who offered you a piece of his soul tonight, so that you wouldn’t be alone. Though his pain is different, older, there’s some sort of comfort in knowing that you alone don’t hold the weight of the universe.
And as you watch the sunrise, you realize that everyone suffers. That the human experience stems from suffering, as it’s the only way you can also know happiness. The only way you can taste the salt on the wind and think ‘Shit, I’m alive’.
The world is beautiful. And though going home will be hell, though facing Yoongi will be hell, you remind yourself that you’re alive. You prepare yourself for the ride home, breathing in the sun and the wind and the ocean. When you’re ready, you turn towards Jungkook, and ask him to bring you home.
He looks troubled, but perhaps he notices the serenity on your features. Perhaps he’s too felt the soothing balm of the sunrise, of endings and new beginnings. Because he brings you home, his bike purring under you as it eats miles and miles to the city, and then some more to your home.
Jungkook drops you off outside, and you give him back the helmet you’ve been using all night. He takes it, putting it safely under the seat. You watch him do so, and ache fills your heart once he climbs back on his bike.
He looks at you, and your gazes connect through his open visor.
“Thank you for tonight,” you tell him.
You think he gulps, but you’re starting to be a little too tired to interpret him. “Of course,” he says. He adds your name, before continuing, “I didn’t want you to be alone.”
You smile at him, though you reckon it’s etched in sadness. Etched in heaviness. You wonder if his heart shares the burden, if he feels just like you do. And you wonder if he too has been breaking all night.
“Thank you,” you repeat.
He nods, and you watch him blink a few times. You’re fully aware he’s blinking back tears, yet you don’t do anything. Just watch him.
“If you need me, I’m just a call away,” he says.
You can’t say anything. Because you don’t think you’d be able to be with him, to find comfort in him. Not when he might have been the catalyst to this whole shitshow. So all you do is nod, and he looks at you for a moment longer until he finally decides to go.
He pulls down his visor, turning towards the street. And then he’s gone.
As you watch him go, farewells hanging in the air, you tuck him into a corner of your heart. Somewhere safe, somewhere nothing ever happened between you and him. Somewhere untainted, pure, and then you whisper, looking at where he disappeared, “Goodbye, Jungkook.”
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:((((( gosh this one is so sad :') (it might only get worse from here). What did we think? Did we like it? Let me know!
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#sinful lust ch 5#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#yoongi x reader#jungkook x reader#yoonkook x reader#yoongi x you#jungkook x you#yoonkook x you#sinful lust#sinful lust series#btswritersclub#yoongi#jungkook#yoongi fic#jungkook fic
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Under The Willow Tree | MYG
Title: Under The Willow Tree
Pairing: Bad Boy!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (T) | One Shot, Small Town AU, S2F2L, Implied Age Gap, Slow Burn, Angst, Touch of Fluff, Darker Subject Matter, First Kiss, Silce of Life
Summary: The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?
Warnings: PG16, some not necessarily positive non-specific religious discussions, people using religion in a negative may, plot twisty, cursing, kissing, semi-apparent abandonment issues, discussions of dead parents and guardians, mentions of alcoholism in a parent, mentions of illness in a parent, yoongi has tattoos and a motorcycle, motorcycle lessons, longing, mishandled emotions, catharsis.
Word Count: 7401
Release Date: April 10, 2023, 4:05PM
A/N 1: This happened due to a writing prompts post I shared sometime in late march. I’m quite proud of it considering I hadn’t planned anything so the entire story was written as I was writing. Very different than my normal writing process.
A/N 2: Thank you endlessly to @borahae-k, @katykatmeow, @here4btsfics and @phthartic-fox for beta’ing this. I love you all for your help, support and kindness.
It happened under a willow tree. A weeping willow.
Your favourite willow, to be specific. Even though there’s just the one.
It’s by the pond deep in the woods behind your house, where you watch ducks swim through the long, wispy branches that just reach its shore. Where you sit at the base, waiting for the sun to set the sky ablaze with colour as it falls into the horizon for another good night's sleep.
The one under which you had your first kiss.
You’d been waiting. Wanting it to be special, with the right person.
But a brief brush of soft, pink lips with the last person you ever expected had you wanting more, more, more.
It’d been a few months since he started coming to the willow. You’d assumed for the same reason you did.
To get away. From anyone and everything.
There aren’t many places in your hometown that allow for privacy, and you imagined he needed it more than anyone. Somewhere far from the residents' judgmental stares that were always nothing less than smothering.
Hailing from a very small, very rural, religious town where everybody’s known everyone for generations, your community is one where you follow in the footsteps of your parents and grandparents before them.
Where your life is already decided for you at birth, whether you know it or not.
Copy. Paste.
Copy.
Paste.
You’re born there; either at home with a midwife or in the one floor hospital down the main road. Raised there; a hand-me-down wearing, bike riding, creek-playing child.
You go to school there; stuck inside the same four walls from the ages of 4 to 18. Get your driver's licence there; from the sheriff after a road test that a 9 year old could pass.
You graduate there; from the same high school your friends, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents went to. Get a job; in town or on a farm, the only two options there are.
And marry there; before 25, lest you become a spinster, subject to the gossip vultures also known as your neighbours. Then have some kids before growing old and dying, your permanent resting place dug in the same graveyard as everyone else that came before you.
Copy.
Paste.
It’s a suffocating fate that petrified you to your core. And you’ve known you didn’t want it for as long as you can remember.
You never liked their rules. Didn’t want to become one of them, to do as they do, live the way they live.
You’d skillfully escaped making any true friends as you grew older, but kept the people you could tolerate close enough to not be bored on weekends. They’re all temporary placeholders in your life anyway, people who sound like robots stuck in the same settings. People who would hold you back.
What’s worst of all is that you don’t share the religion they claim to be so hallowed and wonderful. The one that’s unwittingly forced them all into this life of monotonous repetition.
You dream of more. Of life outside this dreaded purgatory.
Of leaving.
But no one ever leaves. They’re stuck here, in this downwards spiral of life you’re so desperately trying to dig yourself out of. It makes you feel like a fraud, constantly pretending to be one of them. Always wearing a mask just to make it to the next day alive, unharmed by them and their values.
It makes you feel like there’s always a pair of eyes watching, waiting for you to mess up and reveal your blasphemous self.
You’re terrified they’ll discover the truth. Terrified of the ostracisation that will come the second they know you aren’t one of them.
You’ve seen it in real time. What they do to people who don’t conform.
Seen how they treat him.
Two years older. Bleach blond hair and a sleeve full of tattoos. A leather jacket he wears like armour with all black clothes to match. And last, but certainly not least, a motorcycle.
You daydreamed about that bike. Taking it and riding far, far away.
The busybodied people of your town never had a kind word to be said about him. Instead, choosing to call him any and every horrible name under the sun.
Beast, bastard, demon, monster, criminal.
Unable to understand him, understand anyone different.
They herd their children away from him in the streets; parting like the Red Sea when he walks by.
As if he were acid.
As if he was evil itself, and not just a young man.
You’ve never even heard him speak because no one dares to talk to him, worried any contact could turn them, seduce them into whatever his sick ways were.
And you’re ashamed to admit you’re one of them…sort of.
You aren’t worried about speaking to him, you’re worried about what being seen speaking with him will do to you.
You’re someone whose only salvation from complete and total social isolation relies on fitting in.
And even if it kills you to pretend, you only need to do it for a little while longer.
You just had to make it to college. You’d be the first one in decades to go. Their mindset of ‘you have everything you need here so why bother leaving’ having not once in your life resonated.
You can deal with them and all of their beliefs about what you should do with your life for the short hours of school and occasional shifts at the diner, so long as you can escape to your willow tree, you’ll be okay.
The weeping willow in the middle of the forest behind your house is the only one in the area. You never understood why that is, but it’s your oasis away from everything you hate.
The tips of its branches sway rhythmically in the wind, and moss creeps up its trunk. It’s surrounded by dense, plush grass for you to sit on, and after all the years of sitting in the same spot, a little groove in the shape of your body has formed at its base.
Its canopy protects you from the outside world, creating a space where you don't have to hide. Where you can proudly be yourself without fear. Where you spend as much of your time as you possibly can to keep your sanity intact.
No one bothers you here.
Your mum died years ago from an illness they never diagnosed, her plot in the town’s graveyard long since filled.
And your dad never notices you gone, too drunk in your house up on the hill to care.
So as long as there’s a constant supply of food on the counter and beer in the fridge, you’re free to do as you please.
Under the willow you do your homework and sketch. You take pictures and eat breakfasts and lunches and dinners. You listen to music and dance under the safety of its shade.
Under the willow you read great adventure novels, and dream you’re the protagonists whisked away on grand adventures. Anywhere but here.
Under the willow is your home away from home. Next to the pond, under the stars.
So it’s to your great surprise when an unexpected guest pries open the curtain of flowing foliage one spring afternoon. A bleached blond, leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding, guest.
You don’t see him at first, too focused on the sketchpad in front of you. He steps in, and watches you work quietly, waiting for you to notice him.
You fascinate him. Every other girl in town can be found at one of three places, yet you were never at any of them. Not at the restaurant sipping on a milkshake. Not at the library studying. And not at the church volunteering.
You’re always elsewhere.
And he’s finally figured out where that is.
He was nervous at first. To follow you. You’d never spoken but that wasn’t anything new to him. No one in this town ever did.
Not to him.
But you don’t look down at him like the others do. Or jump out of the way when he walks by. You don’t tear away from his gaze as fast as the others. You hold on, even if for just a second longer.
Unknowingly, you’ve captivated him more than anyone else he’s ever met.
So he followed you to see where you vanish off to, not expecting you to go into the forest behind your house.
For a half second he considered you dangerous, because what on earth could you be getting up to in a forest for hours? But as he trailed the sounds of your footsteps and saw the small clearing with the tree, it began to make sense.
After jumping ten feet from seeing something tall and dark in your periphery, you exhale a large breath when you realise you aren’t in any danger, and shake out the nerves.
You’d normally worry he was there to hurt you, but something in you knew he never would. Never could. Maybe it was the look he gave as he regarded you.
Soft. Wistful even.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, wary. The first words you’ve ever spoken to him.
Barely contained inside the limits of the willows perimeter, he shrugs, and takes a long look around your little sanctuary.
And as he does, you get your first real look at him.
He’s handsome. Stoically so. And for only a moment do you wonder about all the stories hidden behind his eyes.
The ones now focused on you.
“Wanted to see where you disappear to. You’re never in town.”
So what if you were never in town? Why did he care? Wait—How did he know? Does he pay attention to you?
…Why you?
You didn’t think he cared to notice anyone in this town, let alone you enough to know you don’t follow the social expectations of someone your age.
To pick up on the fact that you’re never there at all.
It makes a million things run through your mind—Why does he care about where you go? What about you is so special? Does he even know your name?—before one resounding thought hits you like a ton of bricks.
Can you trust him?
No one else in this town does, but all of their reasons are superficial bullshit.
All you know is you don’t know the first thing about him, and that now he knows about the one place you feel safe.
“That’s intentional,” you say, cautious. Not giving away anything but not saying much either.
“Can’t blame you,” he responds, before checking out the rooftop of bright green and muttering, “Eyes and ears everywhere.”
Those four words alone are all you need.
He gets it.
“Yeah.”
Maybe you can trust him.
Observing each other for a silent minute, there seems to be an unspoken understanding forming between the two of you.
And he shoves his hands in his pockets, asking, “Mind company?”
You think about it for only a second.
No. No you didn’t.
“As long as you’re quiet. I’m trying to focus,” pointing the eraser end of your pencil to the sketchpad on your lap. “The cattail leaves are the hardest to get the lines right.”
He nods, finally breaking free of his position at the branch's edge. Nearing the base of the tree, he crouches down, about a quarter of the trunk's diameter away from you. It’s close enough to still see each other, but far enough to not bump into one another.
And before nestling in fully, he extends a tattooed hand to you.
“Yoongi.”
An introduction.
“Y/N,” you return, putting your pencil down in the crease of your pad and shaking.
His hand is calloused, the ones you get from years of working with your hands. And strong, a firm grip. The kind you’d want to pull you up if you were dangling over a cliff.
So many stories contained in a 3 second touch. Yet you find yourself wanting to know all of them.
Releasing, he settles in.
What surprises you most about the whole encounter isn’t his arrival, or speaking to him for the first time, or even the handshake.
It’s that when he’s comfortable, with one leg up for an elbow to rest upon, he digs a book out from the confines of his jacket.
Jules Verne, The Mysterious Island.
Your favourite.
Spring fades into a wonderful summer of late nights and early mornings. Of beautiful blue skies and vivid sunsets you appreciate a little more now that you have someone to share them with.
Yoongi comes almost, if not, every day to the willow. Always a different book in hand. Always one of the classics.
The Iliad, 1984, Jane Eyre, Moby Dick, Anna Karina, Dracula, Little Women, Frankenstein, Catcher in the Rye, and those are just the ones you can remember because you’ve read them too. Some of them more than once.
You never expected to have anything in common with the boy that sits next to you. But from the little you’ve spoken to one another over the months, you’ve found that you share so much more than just reading habits.
On a warm April afternoon he told you he reads because he loves it but also to escape the daily hell that is your town.
“Mmm, what’s your favourite?” you’d asked.
Yoongi was lying down with an arm behind his head, staring into the treetop. Brave New World sat opened and facedown on his chest, his hand resting atop it.
“Pride and Prejudice.”
That was the last answer you expected.
“Why?”
He lifts his head to look at you.
“I thought the answer would’ve been obvious.”
After a cold drink on a hot June morning he told you his dreams of moving across the country. As far away as he could get.
“Just have to save up enough money first.”
You wondered how he made any. He definitely didn’t work anywhere in town…maybe waiting to inherit?
Who knew?
Both on a blanket you’d brought, Yoongi’s lying opposite and beside you, his feet by your hips. He used his balled up jacket as a pillow while you sat in your usual spot, capturing the way the branches swayed in your sketchpad.
He’d taken to reading to you while you drew, including you in the grand stories he now knew you loved to read too.
That day he had The Great Gatsby, a story you’d read about 20 times.
You often dreamed of attending one of his parties. Of seeing the green light across the way, or having a conversation with Nick, why he stayed.
“Are you anywhere close?” you asked, in reference to his saving goals.
“Getting there,” was all he gave.
And on a miserable, rainy night in the middle of August, is when you learned he’s all on his own.
Sitting beside each other, you both huddled underneath his jacket for what little protection from the rain it could give. Water droplets fell from the tips of his bangs as he spoke.
“My parents died in a car crash when I was 9, and then my grandma who took care of me, when I was 15.”
You grieved for him as he told you his story.
How he had to raise himself.
Just like you did.
“I’m sorry,” you’d replied gently. Softly. Knowing how it felt to have no one support you. No one to help you.
Knowing how it felt to be alone.
You understood.
You did, you did, you did.
Yoongi just stared at the ground, unable to meet your eyes. And you’d wondered if any of the water on his face was salty as he breathed out a quiet and heartbreaking, “Thank you.”
It made you question how many kind words he’d heard since his family passed.
And also incredibly pissed off at the people in your town for how they’d treated him.
How you’d…treated him.
A silent promise was made then and there. Never having felt more embarrassed and furious with yourself than in that moment. You’d learned your lesson, and hoped that offering up your own piece of vulnerability might help him feel not so alone.
Though you watched the rain turn the pond into a canvas of vibration as you did. Words dragged from the deepest parts of your soul, burning the back of your throat as they left.
“My dad hasn’t been sober a day since my mom died. His eyes are turning yellow,” you said, hugging yourself to stop shaking, convinced yourself it was because of the cold.
Even though it was August.
“He doesn’t recognize me most of the time.”
You closed your eyes, a familiar tang washing over your tongue as you licked the water dripping from your lips.
He gave no response, but an arm found its way over your shoulders and squeezed.
He understood.
It’s the beginning of September. The air’s started to nip at your cheeks, and the ground crunches a little more everyday with all of the leaves falling underfoot.
The tips of the willows leaves have begun to turn the colour of the morning sun, and by the time mid October rolls around, it’ll look like golden hour every hour of the day.
Yoongi finally tells you about the job he has at a mechanic's in the next town over. He explains how they don’t pay him nearly what they should, but he doesn’t complain because every cent brings him closer to leaving.
Just him and his bike.
You turn sheepish.
“Can I tell you something?”
He sits closer after all this time, more comfortable around one another. Still not enough to touch, not crossing that invisible boundary line, but enough that you don’t have to turn your head much anymore to see his eyes.
Brown and endless.
“Yeah, sure.”
You take a deep breath.
“I kind of always dreamed of taking your bike to get away from here and never come back.” He gives you a look and you shrug. “Seemed the easiest route to take.”
A smile that starts as a smirk turns into a healthy laugh.
“What’s so funny?” You demand. He has to calm himself down a bit before answering.
“You just uhm…don’t seem the criminal type to me, Cattails.”
There’s a flutter of something in your chest at the stupid nickname. For the drawing you did the day you met.
He continues, unaware of the goings on inside you. “Stealing? You? Nah. Not a chance.”
You open your mouth in mock outrage, scrunching your brow and bringing a hand to your chest.
“I’ll have you know I’d make an excellent criminal,” you lie to his face. He knows it too.
But giving in, you detail the plan you’d always kept in your head for emergencies, heat slowly rising in your cheeks with every word.
“I’d take the key from you when you weren’t looking, duplicate it at the hardware store, and slip it back into your pocket before you ever noticed it was gone. Then go to your place in the middle of the night and be halfway across the country before morning.”
“Oh yeah?” he says with a raised brow you don’t trust.
“Yeah,” you confirm with a little too much faux confidence.
“And where do I keep my key, Y/N? Hmm?”
“Your jacket pocket,” you’d deduced long ago.
“Mmm,” he tsks with a shake of his head. “Nope.”
Oh. Well then it must be,
“Your pants pocket?”
“Nuh uh, try again.”
Damnit!
You’d never thought much about it. How many places can someone keep a key on them without a bag and it not be in their pockets?
“Ummm, in your wallet?” Far-fetched but worth a shot.
“Ooo,” he blows through pursed lips before smirking at you again, but this one was different. It caused something very deep inside of you to turn to lava. “Good guess, but also no.”
Closing his book and setting it down, Yoongi straightens and reaches inside the collar of his shirt, retrieving a necklace you didn’t know he wore.
It’s small, the key, and almost silver. The colouring is tarnished from years of use, with worn teeth and some lettering at its base.
He holds it against a palm to show you.
“Why there?” You ask, wondering if there’s a reason aside from convenience.
With a sad tug of his lips, he answers. “Bike was my dads. I like to keep him close.”
A tender smile meets your own plush as you stare at the little key, appreciating it more after learning the importance it has to him.
And Yoongi watches you, viewing his ticket to freedom with the biggest eyes he’s ever seen, full of that same compassion and understanding you’ve always given him.
An understanding he didn’t think he’d ever see again from this place.
One he doesn’t know if he deserves.
Before you can respond, he’s taking the chain off and sliding it over your head, hand lingering for a second longer than necessary at your nape.
“Yoongi,” you hesitate.
It’s the first time you’ve said his name out loud.
You like the way it feels on your tongue. Warm, sweet. Like honey.
What you don’t know is he loves the way it sounds coming from you.
You falter. “W-what are you doing?”
“What’s it look like I’m doing?”
“But it’s your key! Don’t you need it?”
“Nah, got a spare in the storage compartment of the bike,” he says, gesturing to the one you now hold in your palms. “This way you won’t have to go through the hassle of stealing it.”
“But I—”
“Keep it,” he cuts you off. “In case you need it more than I do.”
It never leaves your neck.
“You want me to what?” You ask as you walk towards the forest edge, Yoongi trailing on your left.
“Take her out for a spin. See if you even can. You’re the one who has all these grand plans but doesn’t even know how to turn it on,” he explains, referring to his motorcycle.
“Those were just daydreamed plans! I never thought I’d actually use them! What if I crash?”
He was kidding right? He must be.
For all the time you two have spent together, you’ve never spoken or been around one another in public. An unspoken agreement.
What happens under the willow tree, stays under the willow tree.
So to be out in the open? On his bike? You don’t know if you can. Or if you should.
But then you remember a promise you made not long ago.
“You won’t crash,” he says, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.
“How do you know? Like you said, I don’t even know how to turn it on,” you hmph.
“Because I’ll be there.”
And maybe it’s the tone of voice he uses, or the fact that you trust him, you find yourself saying,
“Okay, fine.”
Minutes later you’re swinging a leg over the bike, and sinking on to the surprisingly comfortable seat.
“Where do I put the key?” You ask, taking it from your neck and handing it over.
Yoongi puts it in the side of the motorcycle, somewhere close to your knee.
“Here,” he shows as he turns it to the ‘ON’ position.
“Oh.”
What a weird place for an ignition.
“Mhm,” he acknowledges, then points. “Put your hand on the brake, it’s the part that sticks out on the right hand side. Hold it firmly against the handlebar. Don’t roll the handle bar itself back though, okay? That’s the throttle.”
Doing what he says, you hold the brake tight against the handle bar, murmuring an ‘okay’ under your breath.
“Now hit that button there on the right to let the fuel pump start up,” referring to the button beside the brake near your thumb. You do so.
He checks a little gauge on the side near the ignition. Seemingly pleased, he continues. “And now hit the button on the left to start it.”
Following his words once again, the engine roars to life the second the button is pressed, purring powerfully.
You feel exhilarated and a little terrified. But he’s here. You know you’re safe.
Voice a little louder to combat the noise from the motor, he says, “Okay, now on the left handle bar, grab the clutch. I’ll show you how to move into first gear, and look at me,” your eyes meet his, “do not let go of the clutch.”
You nod, but for extra precaution, he clamps his hand over the one you have holding it. You watch as he bends to put your left foot on a pedal and presses it down till you hear a pop, pushing up the kickstand when he rises.
The bike is heavy, now that you’re the only thing keeping it up right, you can feel its weight. And you understand why they’re designed to be able to have your feet on the ground even when sitting. You’d probably fall over otherwise.
“If you’re uncomfortable you let me know, yeah? And if you get scared just do what you’re doing now with this hand,” he squeezes for emphasis, “it’ll take all the power away from the engine and you’ll just coast until you stop, okay?”
“Okay!” You say, more excited by the minute. Your toes and fingertips are starting to tingle.
“I‘m gonna let go and you’re going to very, very slowly let up on the clutch—not all the way. Just enough that you move at about a pedal bike's pace. Let me jog down the road about 50 feet or so, and then you meet me there. Hold tight to the clutch again when you’re about 20 feet from me and I’ll catch you. Sound good?”
Nodding one more time in confirmation, nerves crawl all over your skin. You can’t describe the new feeling fully, but the closest you can find to it is probably the beginnings of an adrenaline rush.
You watch as Yoongi jogs down the road, throws his hands up over his head, and gives you two big thumbs up.
Taking a deep breath, you slowly release some pressure off the clutch and begin to move forwards. You know your feet are supposed to go on the metal foot rests below you, but you're so focused on not falling or crashing that you just stick them out so they don’t touch the ground.
Halting your left hands release at the speed he said to, you cruise along, wind picking up with your increased pace.
Holy shit!
You’re riding a motorcycle!
You never thought you could, it was just a dream for so long. Something you kept in the back of your mind just for fun, but now you’re actually doing it! Your driving down the road on an actual real life motorcycle!? All by yourself!?
Turns out all you needed was a little encouragement and someone you trust to spot you.
Aiming for Yoongi, you clamp down on the clutch once again, cutting power to the engine. You drift right into his awaiting hands braced for the impact, and he slides a little on the gravel road before getting you to a full stop.
He presses one of the buttons you did earlier and the bike shuts down, allowing you to jump off.
You’re positively giddy.
“Oh my god did you see me?! I just did that! I just drove a motorcycle! Can you believe it?! I can’t believe I just did that!” You don’t even register what you're saying, too full of excitement to care.
Yoongi can’t contain his grin as he gets the bike standing on its own. Your joy is too infectious not to take part in, and he walks over for a high five to celebrate.
But to his surprise, you bypass his hand completely and embrace him, throwing your arms around his neck.
It takes only a second before he’s enveloping you with his own, not letting the chance to hold you go by.
“Thank you!” You say, before letting go, not even realising what you did. You’re too busy catching your breath from all the rambling and jumping around, still filled with the remnants of your elation.
Meanwhile, Yoongi can’t get the feeling of your body against him out of his head. How soft you were. How warm. The way you smelled like a mixture of your natural scent and outside.
And he’s asking, “You wanna to go for a ride?” before he can tell himself not too.
The question makes you pause. Was he serious? Because you can’t think of anything you want more.
Staring at him, your answer is far too gentle for someone who was just screeching with joy.
“Really?”
He nods, still untrusting of his mouth, confirming with a ‘mhm.’
You don’t hesitate. You want to feel like that again.
Not a minute later he’s giving you the helmet and securing it tightly. He also makes you wear his leather jacket to protect your torso, leaving him in just an oversized black t-shirt and dark ripped jeans.
Swinging a leg over, he pats the seat behind him.
And you’re glad to have the helmet on because without it he would most definitely see your inability to meet his eye. You can barely focus on anything aside from the sight in front of you and being wrapped in the scent of him. But then he gives a tattooed hand to help you hop on, and says,
“You have to put your arms around me and hold on. Otherwise you might fly off the back when we accelerate,” holding his hands behind him to guide yours.
What? You didn’t think this far. He—you have t—Ummm, well...
“Okay,” you answer, voice small, letting your hands be guided.
Despite the loss of his jacket, he’s still deliciously warm, and the heat in your cheeks increases tenfold with your hands now splayed over his abdomen.
Lightly defined muscles meet your fingertips through the thin material of his shirt and you do your best to memorize them as he turns on the bike and pulls away from the curb.
He starts slower than normal to make sure you’re alright, but when you give him the thumbs up, he speeds up to just over the limit and you hold tight.
You’ve never felt so free, loving the rush of wind that flows over your body from going so fast. It’s pushing a welcomed cold through the fabric of your clothes as your body temperature has only increased since getting on.
You could go anywhere, do anything. Nothing and nobody could stop you.
You want that. You want it so bad. And he gave you the key to be able to.
Literally.
But now when you think about leaving, you think about leaving with him. Yoongi driving and you sitting right here on the back, nothing but each other, the road, and hope for the future.
Growing confident enough to release your grasp after a few minutes, you raise your hands in the air, and let the wind catch your fingertips. A whoop of joy leaves you at this newfound feeling he’s given you.
Then another, and another, before returning them to their place around him.
Yoongi can’t help but smile the biggest he has in years when hearing your squeals of glee.
Because for the first time in a long time, he feels it too.
Yoongi doesn’t come to the willow for almost a week.
He’s never done that since he started coming. Not once.
And you’re worried.
Where is he? Is he okay? You have no idea.
It’s not like you can go looking for him.
And you two aren’t anything anyway, so you shouldn’t even be this worried in the first place. If he’s safe, or in the bottom of a ditch somewhere.
But you can’t help it.
Just like you can’t help the feelings that have blossomed for him over the months. The feelings you didn’t want to admit to yourself for fear of him not returning them.
Yet there they were, and there isn’t anything you can do about them now.
They make you wonder if you’ll ever see him again.
Six days.
It takes him six days to return. Stomping in, and visibly pissed off.
“What’s wrong?” You ask once he’s close enough to hear.
“I’m leaving,” he says flatly, uncaring. Like you asked him what colour the sky was.
And your stupid, silly little unrequited heart shatters.
“What?”
“I’m leaving. Taking off. Getting out of here. I can’t do it anymore.”
Piece by piece it falls from your chest and into the depths of your stomach.
“B-but why? What happened?”
“I got fired.”
“Fired?”
“Yeah, fired. I tried all week to fix this one stupid mistake I made,” he explains, smoothing over his creased brow with two fingers. “But it cost more to fix than to keep me around, so they fired me. I don’t have the amount of cash I planned for, but I have enough to make it work. And I can pick up odd jobs on the road if I need to.” He nears, extending a tattooed hand. “I just came to get my key and say goodbye.”
Your hand reaches for it, clutching it tightly. You don’t want to give it back.
Who the hell is this? Because you barely recognize him. It certainly isn’t the Yoongi you’ve come to know.
The wonderfully kind, classics reading, dream-sharing, motorcycle instructing, freedom key giving man.
The one who told you about his grandmother, and his parents. Who read you stories while you drew and ate meals together. Who taught you how to ride his motorcycle.
The Yoongi you fell for.
Your Yoongi.
The person currently standing in front of you isn’t him at all.
He’s the hard, cold exterior, crafted over years of verbal and societal abuse. The one everyone avoids at all costs when walking through town. The person he had to become in order to survive.
You don’t know this person.
And you hate it.
You hate it so much it decides to exit your body in the form of tears. Ones of sadness, frustration, and heartbreak.
He’s—he’s leaving.
Actually leaving.
This place, it’s people.
You...
The few remaining pieces of your heart plunge to the floor, crumbling to dust as they hit. Nothing but a hollow, empty cavern remaining where it once sat.
“But I–you…,” the lump in your throat only getting bigger when you try to speak. You face away from him.
Don’t let him see you cry.
He’s clearly never felt anything close to what you do for him, so suck it up. Reign it in. You do it everyday. So why can’t you do it now?
You don’t get to feel this way!
Shove it back down, get it down!. Crush it all until it’s nothing.
Make it go away. Far, far away.
Yoongi’s face is falling while you’re taking deep breaths to calm down.
In all of his rage and despair at his terrible week, he’s forgotten who he was speaking to.
His kind hearted, music-sharing, been through hell and back, kickass girl. The one he can call his only true friend.
He’s such an asshole. He hadn’t seen you for almost a week, which killed him in of itself. And then the second he does, all he‘s able to do is spew the frustration and misery he’s been feeling the entire time you were apart.
Nah, he’s worse than an asshole.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ha—”
But he freezes at the sound of a small, wet inhale.
You’re crying.
He made you cry.
And a regret bigger than the ocean drowns him.
“Hey, wait, please,” he says, rushing over, but you hold out a hand to stop him. “Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
He reaches for you again, and again you stop him. You can’t let him comfort you.
Not when he doesn’t realise he’s become the only person in this whole godforsaken, judgemental hellhole of a neighbourhood wasteland you have.
Your grandparents are dead, along with your mum. Your dad’s an abusive drunk, too far gone to remember he has a daughter. You don’t have any aunts or uncles or cousins to rely on, nor do you have any real friends.
You have no one, aside from Yoongi.
And now you won’t even have him.
So you can’t let him comfort you. Can’t let him see you break.
You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.
Because you don’t know if you’ll be able to put yourself back together without him if you do.
But a quiet, “Y/N, please,” imbued with pain you haven’t heard since a rainy August night leaves his lips. A last ditch effort to get you to look at him, to let him help.
And it breaks you completely, bursting into a million tiny pieces to match your heart on the floor.
An unrestrained sob falls from your mouth, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. Yours go to his neck as he drags you onto his lap, gripping tight.
He holds you through every whimper and hiccup and stuttered inhale and shudder. Through every muttered ‘please don’t go’ and ‘please don’t leave me,’ that escapes, stroking a hand along the back of your head and down your spine, soothing.
He whispers, “it’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay,” on repeat with the motion. Over and over and over until only occasional sniffles and deep breaths remain.
You hug him tighter as you start to shiver, the warmth created from your breakdown beginning to wear off. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to slide off his jacket and throw it over your shoulders. An instant cocoon of warm and comfort.
When his hands find their place back around your waist, he dares to speak.
“I got you.”
“I know.” And you do. Your voice is a little wobbly, as you’re unmoving from the embrace, but you most definitely do.
This is your Yoongi. The one you’ve come to know. To trust.
Of course he’s got you.
You use one of your long sleeves to dry your eyes and under your nose. With the nearing autumn weather, you’ve returned to occasionally wearing them.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe into his neck after a long beat of silence.
“What could you possibly be sorry for, Cattails?”
The return of your nickname has a grin threatening to emerge.
“For freaking out. I didn’t know that was going to happen.”
“Don’t be,” he says firmly. “I sprung that on you in such a shit way because I was in an even shittier mood. And you clearly weren’t prepared to hear it. I should’ve known better, so don’t you dare be sorry about anything,” he loosens his hold to pull back and look at you. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
You look down, hiding, not wanting him to see you like this.
“None of that,” he whispers, and brings a finger to your chin, tilting up.
It doesn’t meet much resistance.
Your eyes are still a bit swollen and patchy, but it’s the concern in his that makes you crack the smallest of smiles, if only to see his worry erased.
He already has enough on his plate. No need to add to it.
Not able to offer much more than a quirk of the lip, you’re relieved that it’s enough when he starts to wear one of his own.
It’s then you realise your position. Like the sight of it cleared your brain fog.
You’re kneeling over his lap, sitting on his thighs, face inches from his. One of his hands is holding your chin up while the other rests low on your waist, your own still loose around him.
So close, yet so far away.
Because he’s leaving.
And that thought alone allows you to throw caution to the goddamn window. It’s not going to matter once he’s gone, and you’ve wanted it to be with someone special.
He’s as special as they come.
Leaning forward, you close your eyes and the gap between the two of you.
Eyelids fluttering as your lips brush his. Soft, and gentle.
Like him.
You hold only long enough to make sure it counts before pulling back.
It’s funny, really.
It was just a few seconds, but you already find yourself wanting so much more with him. An unfamiliar but welcomed electric pulse finds itself running through your blood at the thought, and it makes you want his lips everywhere.
Your mouth, your jaw, your neck.
Anywhere he can reach.
Sparks pool inside you. Sparks and butterflies and fast flowing lava.
You let yourself relish in the glorious feeling for a single moment, before the reality of what you just did sinks in.
And then you’re scared.
Terrified, actually.
To open your eyes, see his face. His reaction.
What if he hated it? What if he’s never felt anything but platonic affection towards you and now you’ve gone and done this?
Sure, he’s leaving. But now that you think about it, does him leaving mean you’ll never see him again?
What if you just ruined everything?
Teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip, you take a peek.
For the second time today you feel your heart breaking, this time at the look on his face.
Is it shock? Or worse.
Disgust?
Doesn’t matter.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt. Not knowing what else to say.
“I’m sorry,” you say again, trying to get out of his hold, but he keeps you there. Unyielding. And you start rambling. “I shouldn’t have done that. You clearly don’t—It’s just that you’re leaving and I—“
Lips on yours shut you up.
It’s fervent and needy and passionate as he pulls you closer by the hips, desperately trying to get you as close to him as physically possible. Your nails drag over his scalp as your fingers snake through his blond locks. They elicit a delicious groan from his mouth that you consume with your own.
It’s the most intoxicating sound you’ve ever heard, and you want more of it. So you do it again, and again, and again.
He moves down your jaw and neck, sucking at the tender flesh near your pulse point, and your mouth drops open at the feeling.
You’ve always wondered, but…you didn’t know it could feel like this.
Every touch, every whisper, every press of his lips to yours feels amazing. He’s pulling pleasure out of places you wouldn’t have thought possible before him. And you never want to go back to not knowing.
The sweetest of whimpers leaves your mouth as he gently bites a soft spot, then soothing the glorious pain he created with the kindness of his tongue.
Yoongi swears to any god who will listen that he’ll do whatever they want so long as he gets to hear that sound repeatedly and for the rest of his life.
He returns to your lips and says, “come with me.”
You’re so focused on feeling that it takes a moment for his words to land. “What?”
“Leave with me. Let’s get the fuck outta here, and never look back, the both of us. Together.”
Yoongi looks so serious but..
He—he can’t be serious can he? 15 minutes ago he was going on and on about leaving and needing his key back and saying goodbye.
And now?
Sensing your hesitance, he punctuates each of the next three words with a kiss.
“Come. With. Me.”
It makes your answer arrive without really thinking. You don’t need to think. Not when you know deep in your newly reconstructed heart that it’ll always be the same whether you think about it or not.
So long as you’re with him, you know you’ll be,
“Okay.”
“Yeah?” He questions like he can’t believe it. Can’t believe you'd agree.
You make sure there isn’t a single doubt in his head as you look him dead in the eyes and confirm.
“Yes, Yoongi,” another kiss. “I’ll go with you.”
He pulls you into him for what feels like a million more under your shared willow tree.
Your salvation.
And you know they’re going to be the firsts of many, many more to come.
Three days later, and two bags packed full of all your earthly possessions, you’re on the back of Yoongi’s motorcycle.
In those three days he’s prepared everything else you’ll need. He’s gotten a cute leather jacket and helmet for you, some reading materials for the road, snacks, drinks. A place by his side for the foreseeable future.
In the same span of time, you’ve given him a home in your heart, someone he can rely on other than himself. Talk to, trust, experience life with.
Something he hasn’t had in nearly ten years.
Something he never wants to lose again.
He swings a leg over and you unclip the chain from your neck, handing him the key to the bike, to your now shared future.
Driving out of town—straight down Main Street—you watch as all the people you grew up with, who you almost destroyed yourself to fit in with, gawk.
Watch as they judge you for being with him, your best friend. For leaving, and not doing what they all expected of you.
For not being like one of them.
Because you’re not one of them.
You never have been.
And just like the dust that flies behind the wheels, you feel weightless, not giving a single fuck what they think for the first time in your life.
You don’t have to anymore.
You’re free.
A/N 3: Thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi#min yoongi#yoongi au#yoongi fanfic#yoongi bad boy au#friends to lovers#strangers to lovers#bts#bts imagine#yoongi imagine#bts fic#bts fanfic#yoongi scenario#yoongi scenarios#yoongi smut#bts smut#bts x reader#bts x you#bts au#yoongi x y/n#bts yoongi#bts min yoongi#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#UTWT#yoon writes
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