#suga smut
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A New Rhythm | suga x f!reader x woozi
Yoongi has a soft spot for his protege, Jihoon, but you never thought it would extend to sharing you. Not until he tells you Jihoon is a virgin and asks if you'd like the be the one to change that.
You can't say you're opposed to the idea.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~7.8k | Pairing: myg x f!reader x ljh | Genre: smut
Warnings: dom!yoongi, virgin!jihoon, mentor!yoongi, yoongi tells jihoon what to do and jihoon listens like the good boy he is (most of the time), mentions of f. masturbation, oral f. rec., spitting, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, piv sex with a condom, restraining, throat holding, piv sex without a condom, oral m. rec., deepthroating, cum swallowing, creampie, plsplspls inbox if i missed anything!
Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, same age as yoongi, referred to with fem pronouns/descriptors (she/her, girlfriend), has an iud, wap
You think you’re losing your mind.
That’s the only possible explanation as to why you’re hovering outside of Yoongi’s home studio at four in the morning, arguing with yourself about whether or not you should knock on the door.
He’s been in there for hours, didn’t even come to bed last night, which might explain the plethora of dreams you had. They’re what woke you up, and the absence of Yoongi is what brought you out from under the warm covers and into the chilly night air.
Yoongi’s studio is a small building in your backyard, with no windows and perfect acoustics. He had it built last year, when he finally got tired of going in and out of the city at all hours to work, and he even gave you free reign of the exterior. Now that the garden is blooming and the stones leading to the door have settled into the ground, it really feels like part of your home.
Or it does in the daylight, anyway.
You’ve never come out here at night before, because you’ve never had a need to. You know Yoongi will come inside when he’s finished working so you usually leave him to it, usually try not to interrupt him, but tonight, something is different.
Tonight, you need him.
Desperately.
It’s not like he’s neglecting you, it’s just that he’s been working on a personal project so a lot of his time is spent in the studio, and when he finally calls it a day, all he wants to do is eat and collapse into your arms. You can take care of yourself, quite well, in fact, but nothing beats Yoongi’s touch, nothing.
Every dream you had in your fitful five hours of rest was filled with him; his hands on your body, his mouth between your legs, his cock deep inside of you. It all felt hazy and rose-colored but somehow so real, and when you woke to an empty bed, it was almost heartbreaking.
And it doesn’t help that it’s been ten days since he last fucked you, not that you’ve been counting…
You’d go back to bed if you could, but you already tried to satisfy your craving for him and all that did was leave you wet and wanting him even more, which is why you only feel a little bit guilty when your hand raises and raps twice on the wood in front of you.
It takes a few seconds for the door to open, and when it does, your eyes grow wide and your fingers fly to the hem of your nightie, your suddenly freezing legs reminding you just how short it is.
If it were Yoongi, you wouldn’t care, you’d probably even hike it up a little bit more, but it’s not Yoongi.
It’s Jihoon, your boyfriend’s protege.
“Um,” Jihoon starts, his eyes trailing over your exposed body before snapping back up to your face, a flush reddening the skin of his neck and ears. “Yoongi’s in the middle of a recording session so he didn’t hear the door. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, yeah, um, everything’s fine,” you stammer, because what the hell else can you do?
It’s not like you can admit to someone who’s not your boyfriend that you’re dizzy with desire, especially not when that someone is your boyfriend’s adorable mentee.
Jihoon is barely 27, but he’s been producing since he was in his teens. Yoongi kept an eye on his career for a while and eventually decided to take him under his wing when he noticed he wasn’t advancing in the field like he deserved to be. They’ve been working together for a little under a year now, and Jihoon has become a regular fixture at your house.
You include him in your meals, in your game nights, and even in your karaoke, though he effortlessly outsings you both every single time.
But that doesn’t mean you can tell him you’re here because you need to get fucked.
If Yoongi were the one to answer the door, you wouldn’t have needed to speak, he would have seen that shine to your eyes and known immediately what you needed. You didn’t even know Jihoon was here or you wouldn’t have knocked at all.
Now here you are staring at each other, Jihoon’s blush traveling down under his collar as you shiver in your nightdress, unable to think of even one viable explanation as to why you’re up at four in the morning.
“Babe? What are you doing out there? It’s cold as fuck,” Yoongi appears behind Jihoon, his brows furrowed and his gaze bewildered.
He takes one good look at you and that’s it. He knows.
You can tell by the smirk that’s quirking one side of his mouth up and the heat that flashes in his tired eyes, the sight of both making you bite your lip and twist your fingers in the hem of your nightie.
“We’re gonna take a break, Jihoon. Let’s all go up to the house for a bit, yeah?” Yoongi proposes, though you know it was more of an order than an offer.
You turn mechanically and force one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore the fact that you can feel two sets of eyes on you instead of one.
That’s the theme of the night, apparently, as you find yourself making tea for three, still clad in your pajamas. You would have gone to get a robe but Yoongi caught your hand before you left and asked for some oolong, saying that it’s never as good when he makes it.
While the tea is steeping, you sit on Yoongi’s right side, Jihoon on his left, and try to keep from squirming at the feeling of the cold wooden chair against your hot center. You didn’t bother to put on underwear, sure that Yoongi would just fuck you right there in his studio, and you’re positive he would have, if Jihoon wasn’t there.
But he was, he is, and you have no idea what Yoongi’s game is but you know it’s starting to make you feel a bit crazy, like your skin is too tight for your bones and your heart is too big for your chest.
Then he speaks, and all the blood in your body reaches its boiling point.
“Jihoon was just telling me that he feels like he can’t write sex into his songs because he’s never had it before. Why don’t we help him out with that?”
Jihoon collapses into himself, groaning and cursing, his face buried in his arms where they rest on the table, his muscles strained with tension and his skin bright red.
Yoongi just smiles serenely and looks over to you, raising an eyebrow and lifting his chin like he’s challenging you.
You can’t respond yet, not with the ringing in your ears and the images in your mind, flashbulb memories of how long Jihoon’s fingers are and how voraciously he eats and, worst of all, how he looks when he comes over straight from the gym, his hair still damp from the shower and his veins still popping from the workout.
All things you’ve thought about innocuously, no real intention behind them, now given life, meaning, by Yoongi’s words.
You tilt your head at him, trying to figure out if this is a test, but you don’t see any hint of deception in his eyes. All you see is your boyfriend of four years, wanting to bring someone into the bed you share, wanting to teach someone what it means to give and take pleasure.
No, not just someone, but Jihoon, specifically.
He has a soft spot for the kid and that’s obvious, but you never expected it to extend to sharing you.
However, you’re not… opposed… to the idea.
If anything, you feel yourself get just a bit hotter, just a bit wetter, imagining the both of them in your bedroom.
You know Yoongi can tell how you’re feeling, you’ve never been able to hide a thing from him, and when that satisfied smile stretches his lips, you give up and give in.
“What are your rules?” You ask softly, your eyes darting to Jihoon when he snaps his head up and stares at you, wide eyed and open mouthed.
“He has to wear a condom,” Yoongi says matter-of-factly, before continuing, “Other than that, I have none. What about you?”
You didn’t expect him to turn the question around on you, but you’re grateful he did.
“Same as you,” you respond, before looking to Jihoon. “What are your thoughts?”
He stares at you for a moment, his eyes flicking between you and Yoongi, before he answers, “I - I don’t know. I’m embarrassed, and a little bit annoyed,” he levels a glare at Yoongi. “But I’m… I mean if you’re okay with it, then… then yes, I want this. I’ll wear a condom, I’ll do whatever.”
Yoongi doesn’t even pretend to care about the tea.
He just rises from his chair and extends a hand toward you, waiting for you to take it before nodding at Jihoon, expecting you to reach out to him. You hold your hand out and he grasps it, your fingers intertwining as Yoongi pulls you to the stairs. In between them, you carefully move up the steps, feeling somewhat like you’re on your way to the place of no return.
You know you can stop this at any time, but you fear you won’t want to.
You fear that once you get a taste of Jihoon, of both of them together, that’s all you’ll want.
Yoongi must know, he knows everything about you, and if he wasn’t okay with it, he wouldn’t have offered. So when you cross over the threshold and he lets go of your hand to sit in the chair occupying the corner of your room, you know that he must be anticipating that outcome, and you know that he must be alright with it.
Which makes it easier to turn to Jihoon and cup his cheeks to draw him into a kiss, one that makes him gasp against your lips before he drops a hand to your hip and starts to kiss you back.
He seems experienced enough at this, you think, his plush mouth soft against yours and his tongue tentative where it brushes along the seam of your lips. You open up for him with ease, swallowing his sounds and responding with your own soft hums to show him you’re comfortable.
Your tongue glides against his and he moans, sucking at it with gentle pulses that make your core throb, before you pull away and press a hand to his chest to stop him from following you.
“Let’s move to the bed?” You suggest, perhaps because your knees feel the slightest bit weak but mainly because you’ve been desperate to get Yoongi’s body on top of yours all night. Jihoon isn’t Yoongi, but you think he’ll feel almost as good.
Jihoon nods, his chest rising and falling as he tries to regulate his breathing, waiting for you to climb up and get comfortable before setting a knee on the covers.
“Take your clothes off,” Yoongi calls out from the corner. “She probably wants to see you.”
Jihoon glances over and then looks at you, raising a brow. You shrug shyly and nod, your eyes lowering to his chest as he starts to pull his sweater up. More and more pale skin is revealed, and by the time the fabric clears his head, your gaze is locked on the defining lines of his abdominals. He unties his sweats and pushes them down, stepping out of the cotton and standing before you in just his boxer briefs.
His dick is hard, pressing against the fabric, but you don’t have long to look before he settles on top of you, his elbows bracketing your head and his knees straddling your thighs. His lips find yours again and soon enough, you’re lost in him. He kisses you so attentively, adjusting to your every move, your every breath. It’s not long before you’re squirming beneath him, wanting for more.
“You’re gonna eat her out next,” Yoongi instructs, his voice distant but consuming, echoing in your mind like a looped track.
Jihoon breaks away from you, his eyes heavy lidded and his lips kiss-swollen. He sits back on his knees when you shift up onto your elbows, giving you room to pull your nightie up and off, leaving you bare from head to toe.
His eyes traverse the whole of your body, lingering on your breasts before they land between your thighs, his stare weighty, nearly tangible on you. The thought that you might be the first woman he’s seen naked in person is a heady one, enough to give you the confidence to slide your legs out from between his and spread them on the bed, showing him exactly what he’ll be working with.
His breaths come faster as he gazes at you, slowly moving down to lay on his stomach between your legs, his mouth just inches from your pussy when Yoongi says, “Spit on it.”
“What?” Jihoon questions, turning back to stare at Yoongi in confusion, missing the way you squirm at Yoongi’s instruction.
“You heard me, spit on it. She’s into it.”
“I- No, I’m not gonna fuckin- I’m not spitting on her, that’s ru-”
“Fine, if you won’t, I will,” Yoongi rolls his eyes and rises from his seat, taking a few steps to the bed and pushing at Jihoon’s shoulder when he doesn’t move out of the way.
Yoongi braces his hands on your knees and shoves them further apart, his eyes coasting up your body before they land on yours, a wry smile stretching his lips before he purses them and spits on your pussy. His saliva trails over your clit and down to your entrance, making you gasp and making your cunt clench, your hand shooting down to weave into his hair when he starts to pull back.
“See? Told you,” he murmurs to Jihoon, grasping your wrist and waiting for you to release his hair before stepping away and returning to his chair in the corner.
Your eyes find Jihoon, who looks like he’s been struck. He shakes it off and fills the space between your legs again, flat on his belly with a determined glint to his eye. You can feel his breaths as his mouth gets closer and closer to you, before finally, his tongue drags over you from cunt to clit.
He takes his time learning you, sucking at your folds and dipping into your entrance, never staying in one place for long. He’s making little sounds like he loves the taste of you, the vibrations traveling through your pussy straight to your buzzing brain, straight to the part of you that yearns to be set free.
You long to sink your fingers into his hair and drag him where you want him, take your pleasure from him like he’s a toy, but you know this is a precarious situation, and you’re not going to be the one that tips it out of balance.
So you let him explore, let him figure it out on his own, setting aside the fact that you’ve been aching for hours already. This is Jihoon’s first time, you can stand to not be greedy for once in your life.
Yoongi seems to disagree, telling Jihoon, “Find her clit and suck it, or she’ll never cum.”
You would glare at him for rushing Jihoon, you really would, but then Jihoon listens, his mouth searching until he discovers that bundle of nerves and wraps his lips around it, giving experimental sucks that quickly have your back arching and your toes curling.
“Y-you can, um, put a fing-,” You try to speak but can’t seem to get the words out, not when Jihoon’s mouth is so soft and wet and his tongue is so agile from years of playing the clarinet, the tip lapping at your clit in between pulses of his lips.
“Baby, I’ll tell him what to do, you just lay back and enjoy, okay?” Yoongi says in a soothing tone, making your eyes flicker open so you can see him. You know he wants you to answer him so you force your head to move up and down in a nod, melting into the bed when he sends you that indulgent, proud little smile.
“Jihoon, start with two fingers, she likes to feel full. Palm up,” Yoongi instructs Jihoon, his voice more distant, less affectionate now that he’s not talking to you.
Jihoon’s fingertips glide through your arousal, dipping into your entrance and starting to push inside. You’re still a bit stretched out from taking care of yourself earlier so there’s barely any resistance, his fingers sinking in slowly but surely.
His tongue stutters against you, a weak groan escaping him as your cunt molds to his digits. You squeeze around them just to hear that sound again, biting back a grin when the next groan is louder.
“Feels good, doesn’t she? Now imagine that around your cock,” Yoongi smirks smugly, his eyes caught on the blush rising up the back of Jihoon’s neck. “Gotta make her cum first.”
With renewed fervor, Jihoon sucks at your throbbing clit, his fingers twitching inside of you but not moving yet.
“Now you’re gonna find her g-spot. Curl your fingers and tap until you feel a different texture, you’ll know you’ve got it when she gets wetter.”
Ever the quick study, Jihoon puts Yoongi’s words to action, his fingers crooking and rubbing along your front wall in search of the patch that can make you gush. He encounters it soon enough, grazing the erogenous zone with his fingertips and tapping into it when you gasp and clench down.
You do get wetter, just like Yoongi said, and you can’t help but move with Jihoon’s fingers as he starts to slide them in and out, the tips hooking into your sweet spot on every thrust. You should have expected him to have perfect rhythm and lithe, talented fingers just like Yoongi does, because maybe then it wouldn’t be a surprise when you feel the stirrings of heat deep in your belly.
Would it be embarrassing to cum so soon? Yoongi can get you there in five minutes flat but this is Jihoon, should you try to hold out for longer so he has more time to practice? What if he’s disappointed that you-
“Baby, stop worrying. Just cum when you want to,” Yoongi says softly, and not for the first time, you feel blessed to have a partner who knows you inside and out.
You don’t need his permission to cum but now that you have it, you can feel your climax building even faster, feel it growing, glowing inside of you as Jihoon moans into your pussy, as if he’s echoing Yoongi’s words.
That and the flawless grind of his fingertips into your g-spot are what throw you over the edge, darkness eclipsing your vision as you tumble into a pleasure so deep, you can feel it in your bones.
It races through your bloodstream, electric and razor sharp, setting all of your nerves on edge and stealing every molecule of air in your lungs. You gasp through it, clenching your fingers in the pillow beneath your head so you don’t reach down, tangle them in his hair, and hold him to you until he’s as breathless as you are.
You think you could cum again if he just keeps his tongue curled around your clit and his fingers digging into your g-spot like this. Hell, you’d probably cum even harder, get even wetter for him, even hotter.
It’s so close you can almost taste it, but he starts to pull away and you swallow down the cry of protest that rises in your throat, fighting off disappointment that you fear you don’t have a right to. Yoongi likes to go for more than one but Jihoon isn’t Yoongi, and you can’t expect him to behave the same way.
Yoongi does, evidently, because he says as if it should be obvious, “Keep going.”
“What? She already-”
“She can cum again, keep going.”
When Jihoon looks up at you for confirmation, Yoongi heaves a beleaguered sigh and ambles to the bed, placing a knee on the mattress for stability before leaning over Jihoon’s shoulder and gripping the back of his neck, pushing and holding him down.
Jihoon is more than strong enough to break free if he wants to, which makes it even sweeter when he closes his eyes and dives back into you, one of his hands scooping under your thigh to pull it up onto his shoulder. Now you’re the one holding him down, and Yoongi’s lips stretch in a satisfied smile, like Jihoon has finally done something to be proud of, before he loosens his grasp and returns to his chair.
You’ve lost some momentum in the seconds without stimulation, but you can’t escape the image of your boyfriend shoving his protege’s face into your cunt and that’s almost enough to get you right back where you were.
It helps that Jihoon seems to be insatiable now, though whether he’s desperate for you or desperate to prove himself to Yoongi, you don’t know. It doesn’t really matter either way, not with his lips wrapped around your clit and his tongue digging up under the hood to lap directly at the nerves. His fingers join in too, fucking into you harder and faster, beckoning out enough arousal that you can feel it dripping down your perineum.
The sounds are obscene, the wet suction of his mouth and the squelching of his fingers bringing heat to your cheeks. You wonder if Jihoon can hear or if your thighs are muffling the noises, part of you hoping they are and most of you hoping they aren’t.
You want him to hear what he’s doing to you, want him to know that he’s pleasing you, that his efforts are appreciated, which is why you finally decide to stop holding back.
Your hands skate down your body and delve into his hair, pulling his face even deeper into your pussy as you whimper long and loud. “There she is,” Yoongi murmurs, barely audible with your voice ringing in the air.
Jihoon groans earnestly in response, his hips twitching against the bed and his fingers spasming inside of you before they stop fucking in and out and instead start prodding your g-spot, rubbing and tapping and grinding until you lock down around them, cumming with a gush and a shout.
He doesn’t stop this time, relentless in the pursuit of pulling every last bit of bliss out of you as if he’s learned his lesson. Yoongi always says that Jihoon takes direction well, and you’re honored to experience the evidence of it yourself.
Honored and dizzy, if you’re being truthful.
Your head spins, your pussy growing sensitive and your pleasure growing sharp, almost stinging as he continues to batter your front wall with his fingertips and stab his tongue into your overworked clit.
“Jihoon,” you whine brokenly, drawing out his name and gripping his hair tighter, unsure of whether you want to push him away or pull him closer.
“Don’t stop,” Yoongi calls out, but it sounds like he’s underwater, or maybe you are, every noise in the room muted and dull compared to the roaring in your ears, the rushing of your blood in your veins as your heart races in your chest.
“Maybe you’ll make her-”
Time slows down when Jihoon grunts his assent into you, the vibration just enough to send you spiraling into a euphoria so acute, it brings tears to your eyes. Your vision whites out and you think you scream, and then you’re levitating, no longer on the bed, perhaps not even on the planet anymore.
When your soul returns to your body and you blink your watery eyes open, the first thing you see is Jihoon. He’s still between your legs but now he’s bright red, his chest heaving as he fights to breathe, your arousal covering him from his cheeks down to his sternum.
You would feel nervous about his reaction but as soon as your eyes meet his, he’s climbing up over you and pressing his swollen lips to yours, his kiss ravenous and his tongue soaked with you.
When he pulls away, you’ve got your own essence smeared all over your mouth, and you’re not even startled to feel a familiar hand in your hair. The hand tugs your head to the side and you let your eyes flutter closed, anticipating the swipe of Yoongi’s tongue over your bottom lip. He loves how you taste, even if it’s not directly from the source.
You can feel Jihoon’s eyes on you as Yoongi licks your face clean, and you wonder if he thinks he’s going to get the same treatment.
He might, honestly.
But not tonight, it seems, as Yoongi smacks a kiss onto your lips and lets go of your hair, reaching in the bedside table for the condoms you haven’t used since you got your IUD placed a few months ago.
“You didn’t blow your load, right?” Yoongi glances at Jihoon, raising an eyebrow teasingly and laughing at the way Jihoon glares and says, “No, I’m still fucking hard, thanks for asking.”
Out of loyalty to your boyfriend, you won’t point out that Yoongi actually did blow his load the first time he ever made you squirt.
“You still up for it, baby? Not too sore or sleepy?” Yoongi crouches next to you and cups your face, brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone and gazing at you with gentle, patient eyes.
“I’m still up for it,” you smile peacefully, watching as he hands Jihoon the condom and taking the opportunity to stretch, reaching your arms up above your head and pointing your toes, a soft keening sound leaving you as you relax into the bed again.
When your eyes find Jihoon and Yoongi, both of them are staring at your tits, a dazed look on their faces that makes them appear even more alike.
Yoongi snaps out of it first, blinking rapidly and readjusting in the chair, making you notice for the first time just how hard he is.
You knew he’d have to be into the idea of watching you fuck someone else to propose this in the first place, but you didn’t expect him to be so wrought with desire. You can see it on his face now that you’re really looking at him, the passion in his shadowed eyes and the lustful clench of his jaw giving him away.
You bite back a smile and turn your gaze to Jihoon just in time to watch as he slides off the bed and pushes his underwear down. His cock pops up then hangs heavily, the head blushed red and the length wrapped in veins. He’s similar in size to Yoongi, maybe a bit thicker and slightly shorter, and you’re relieved to know both that the condom will fit and that he won’t stretch you beyond your limits.
Finally, you look at his face again, only to find him staring at you, his eyes staying locked with yours as he brings the condom packet up to his mouth and tears it open with his teeth. At first, you think he’s trying (and succeeding) to be sexy, but then you realize his hands are trembling, just a little, just enough to relay the nerves he’s kept hidden.
“I’ll put it on,” you tell him as you extend a hand and wait for him to drop the condom in your palm, beckoning him forward with your other hand until he climbs back up on the bed and settles on his knees in front of you.
Slowly, you reach out and take hold of his cock, not reacting to the stilted gasp and muted swear that escapes Jihoon though you want to coo and kiss his cheek, he’s so adorable. You pinch the tip and roll the condom on with ease, ensuring it’s snug at the base before giving his hip a squeeze and laying back.
He follows you and braces his hands on either side of your head, his eyes heavy lidded and his cheeks flushed as he leans down to kiss you. His cock drags over your thigh before you spread your legs and hitch them up on his hips, one of your hands snaking between your bodies to position him at your entrance.
Jihoon takes in a deep, shuddering breath before beginning to push forward, his eyelids fluttering and his mouth dropping open as he feels the heat of you around his cock for the first time. The condom is a foreign sensation after all these weeks of taking Yoongi bare, and the fact that it’s Jihoon inside you instead of him is even more odd, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good.
Because it does, he does, especially when you remember that it’s been ten days since you had anything but a vibrator. Jihoon is warm, and thick, and real, and best of all, he’s holding back whimpers, his eyes closed and his face screwed up in pleasure, his hips jerking into yours in little thrusts like he can’t bear to keep still.
When he bottoms out, he collapses to his elbows, leaving his chest pressed against yours and his face just inches away, every microscopic change in his expression obvious to you with him so close.
You can tell he’s steeling himself to pull out, his jaw clenching and his brow furrowing as he draws his hips back slowly, his cock leaving the warm clutch of your pussy until only the head remains. You don’t even think he’s breathing, his cheeks turning red and his face growing pained, like it feels so good, it hurts.
He slides back in and you make the mistake of squeezing down, and that’s when he stutters, “F-fuck, I can’t- ‘m sorry, I’m gonna fucking-”
His cock jerks and twitches and there’s a muted burst of warmth inside of you, one that’s contained in rubber as he tips into the abyss, his forehead dropping down to rest on your collarbone and his body shaking on top of yours.
His gasps sound more like sobs, his beautiful, diminutive cries of pleasure making you flutter around him, prolonging his orgasm until he’s hissing through clenched teeth and digging his hips into yours as if in retribution.
He starts to soften inside of you and you’re content to let him rest and recuperate, but Yoongi has other ideas.
“Get up,” he commands, making your eyes flick over to him, a glower overtaking your face when he repeats himself. “Jihoon, get up.”
Jihoon reaches down and grips the base of his cock as he withdraws from you, holding the condom in place and cringing when he fully leaves your pussy. He slips the condom off and ties a clumsy knot, tossing it in the waste basket that sits under Yoongi’s bedside table before shuffling off the bed.
He doesn’t look at you, and you wonder if he’s too embarrassed or if he thinks he’ll be met with disappointment. Maybe both, and Yoongi certainly isn’t helping the situation. You don’t know what he’s playing at, rushing Jihoon like this, being so harsh when Jihoon’s at his most vulnerable, but you don’t care for it.
“Yoongi,” you murmur lowly, a warning in your voice.
“Baby, I’m not doing this to be mean. I just want him to learn,” Yoongi placates you, rising from the chair and pointing at it. He waits for Jihoon to take a seat before making his way toward you, gripping the back of his shirt to haul it off as he walks. He sheds his sweats next, his boxers dropping with them, and when you set your eyes on his cock, they almost bulge out of your head.
You think this is the hardest you’ve ever seen him, his dick a purplish rose and his balls heavy, full. You’re speechless, wide eyed, as he climbs onto the bed and reaches for your legs. He arranges you how he wants, planting his hands on the underside of your thighs and pushing them up against your body until he can get his shoulders under your knees.
One hand settles next to your head for balance and the other grips his cock, lightly smacking your pussy with it, the weeping head landing right on your swollen clit. You squirm and gasp at the feeling, your entrance clenching around nothing, pushing out more of your arousal to drip down your ass onto the bed.
He does it again, and again, and again, until you’re whimpering and clawing at him, ready to beg him to just fucking put it in already, and that’s when he guides his cock into place and slides home.
You and Yoongi moan in unison, yours more high pitched than his though both ring with relief.
Him and Jihoon don’t feel all that different but Yoongi is familiar, Yoongi is loved, Yoongi is yours, and that heightens every sensation. He stays buried in you, his gaze locked with yours, possession burning in his eyes like a wildfire.
You’re sure it’s because he gets to feel you bare and Jihoon doesn’t, and you wonder if he’s staying still for so long because he wants you to remember who you belong with. Then you feel him twitch inside of you and notice the tension on his face, and you know that’s not the case at all.
It’s that he’s inches away from doing exactly what Jihoon did, except he doesn’t have the excuse of being a virgin.
Yoongi hasn’t cum early in years, has practically become a paragon of self-control and patience, lasting long enough to get you there twice even when you first did away with the condoms. You’re almost gleeful to discover he’s so close to the edge right now, and you’re about to clamp down around him and push him even closer when his eyes harden and he mutters, “Don’t you fucking dare.”
And you try to listen, you really, really do, but you just can’t help the way your pussy responds to him, especially when he uses that voice on you.
So truly, it’s not even your fault when your walls swallow around his cock and suck him in deeper, the ragged groan he lets out only making you clench down more.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” you whisper faintly, taking a deep breath and attempting to relax your inner muscles as he starts to pull out. “Don’t go,” you whimper, clinging to whatever skin you can reach, one hand wrapping around the wrist next to your head and the other flying down to grasp his hip.
You’re not strong enough to hold him in place, so you know it’s of his own volition when he stops moving, your cunt squeezing around what’s still inside, your whole body begging him not to leave.
He leans in close and narrows his eyes at you, probably trying to see if you’re playing some kind of trick on him, but you know there’s nothing in your gaze but a frantic wish to keep him inside, to finally feel him fuck you like you’ve needed for the last ten days.
His face softens into something fond and he murmurs, “Gonna give you what you need, baby.”
Then, with his eyes still on yours, he calls out, “Jihoon, c’mere.”
You hear him padding over to the bed, and you’re sure he’s just as confused as you are at his sudden involvement. Yoongi straightens up, breaking free of your hold and sitting back on his knees before gripping your hips tightly and pulling your ass into his lap, filling you with his cock and making space at the head of the bed in one rough move.
“Get on the bed, grab her hands,” Yoongi tells Jihoon, his stern voice leaving no room for questioning.
It seems Jihoon has learned his lesson by now, obeying Yoongi quickly and carefully, sliding into place behind you with his legs spread under your shoulders. His hands reach for yours and you offer them with only a little apprehension, gasping when he lifts your upper body enough for your head to rest on his thigh, your hands held against his toned stomach.
“Comfy, babe?” Yoongi asks you, waiting for you to nod before drawing his hips back until only the tip rests inside of you. He shoves forward, his pelvis smacking into your ass, a slick squelch sounding when he bottoms out.
He doesn’t give you any time to get used to it, every thrust that follows just as deep, just as vicious.
The rhythm of his cock slamming into you overtakes your heartbeat, your cunt throbbing and drooling around him as he rams into you, forcing your wetness out of your pussy and your thoughts out of your head.
Soon enough, you’re mindless with pleasure and writhing in their laps, arching into and away from the wicked bucking of Yoongi’s hips, his cock plunging into you so fast and so hard, you aren’t sure you’ll survive.
You can’t stop crying either, whining and blubbering nonsense words intercut with your boyfriend’s name, pleading for him to keep going because you’ll die if he stops but also he might kill you if he doesn’t.
“You can take it, baby,” Yoongi breathlessly assures you, his eyes lighting up with a devilish idea. “Maybe you just need something to focus on. Turn your head.”
Maybe he’s right, maybe you do just need to devote what little brain power you have left to something, so you turn your head and there it is, Jihoon’s bright red, rock hard cock.
With a desirous moan, you lean forward and drag your tongue up the side of his shaft, following one of the veins that winds around his dick like a vine. He chokes out a groan, his hands holding yours tighter when you tilt your head back and whimper, “Jihoon, please, put it in my mouth.”
There are tears streaming down your cheeks as you part your lips, laying your tongue out to entice him more. Yoongi is still fucking you, hasn’t let up for even a second, and you can feel his eyes on you as Jihoon transfers your hands to one of his and grips the base of his dick, pointing it in your direction and slowly feeding it into your mouth.
The angle is awkward but you can work with it, letting out a garbled ‘thank you’ and consciously relaxing your throat so he can slide deeper inside.
“That’s my girl, such nice manners,” Yoongi coos with a slight tone of condescension, watching as you swallow around Jihoon’s cock and fight not to choke.
“Wanna feel something amazing?” Yoongi asks Jihoon, who mutters doubtfully, “Something better than this?” and then he must nod because Yoongi says, “Put your hand on her throat. You can squeeze a little.”
Both of your hands are still gathered up in one of Jihoon’s, and you feel his free hand tentatively wrap around your neck, making you whine around him and clench around Yoongi.
“Fuck, is that my-” An avid groan cuts him off, his fingers spasming on your throat, though they don’t tighten to the point of pain.
A trickle of precum slides down your esophagus and you swallow again, your throat working around his thick cock, taking in another inch. You’re almost at the root now, close enough for your chin to brush his balls, and you’re about to get the last little bit inside when Yoongi scoops his hips on a stroke out and grinds right over your g-spot.
You squeak and jerk between them, your back arching as he starts to aim every single thrust there, battering the patch of nerves until you think you’ll cum just from this, just from his dick inside of you.
Then you feel his hand work itself between your thighs, his fingers cruel and exacting on your clit, and you have to pull off of Jihoon to gasp for air as an orgasm tears through you like a tornado, your pleasure wild, furious, devastating.
He doesn’t let up for even a minute, fucking you through it and leaning down over you to sink a hand into your hair, guiding your mouth back to Jihoon’s cock.
“Make him cum, baby.”
You bury him in your mouth again, nuzzling down until your nose brushes his skin and his cock fills your throat. He twitches and leaks, and you just know he’s close, but you don’t have the right angle to bob your head up and down, to give him any friction. All you can do is swallow and moan plaintively and hope it’ll be enough to carry him over the edge.
Your teary eyes flicker up and lock with his, and that’s what does it. His face crumples and a strangled moan forces its way out of his mouth as his cum shoots down your throat, his cock twitching, pulsing, throbbing between your lips. His grasp on your hands is so tight, it almost hurts, but the fingers on your neck never grip harder, never constrict to the point of suffocation.
Your throat convulses around him and he pulls out with a wounded sound, probably too sensitive to stay in the wet heat of your mouth any longer. His hand pets your neck and glides up to your face, wiping your tears away and cupping your cheek as Yoongi’s fingers start to swirl between your legs again.
You don’t know if you have another release left in you, but if you do, Yoongi will draw it out, and he’ll do it with a smile on his face. He’s mean that way, but so nice too, and now that all you have to focus on is the feeling of him surging in and out of you, the spark of painful bliss is familiar.
It reminds you that you’ve survived him before, and that this time won’t be any different even if you don’t feel like the same person after.
Yoongi fucks you like he’s remaking you in the shape of him, like he wants to take you down to your nuts and bolts then build you back up in a new form, one that bears his signature. It’s raw and rough and filthy, but beautiful too, which is always how he leaves you feeling when he’s had his way with you.
That’s the last thought you have before he sweeps all of them up and away with one final circle of his fingers on your sensitive, swollen clit.
Euphoria and agony battle within you, your climax excruciating but rapturous, sending you into a spiral of warring sensations that have you near delirious until finally, finally, finally, Yoongi lets himself break.
You whimper at the feeling of his cock hardening and twitching in your spent pussy but his cum flowing into you is a balm, soaking your delicate, tender walls with a warm wash of white. You breathe through the sting of overstimulation, your eyes watering again and your body shuddering between Jihoon and Yoongi.
Sometimes Yoongi stays inside after but you think he can tell you’re too wrung out, so he carefully slides out of you and lowers your legs from his shoulders, his palms gliding up and down your thighs in a soothing manner.
“Jihoon,” he says softly, his eyes still on you. “Go through that door and grab a washcloth from the closet, the softest one you can find. Get it wet with some warm water and bring it here.”
Jihoon is quick to follow Yoongi’s instruction, supporting your neck as he slips out from under you and brushing a thumb over your cheekbone before he leaves.
You hear the opening and closing of a door, then running water, then the quiet padding of feet on hardwoods. Your eyes have fluttered closed but you’re not surprised when you feel gentle hands cleaning you up, dabbing the washcloth between your legs, mindful of your sensitivity.
They fly open when you hear Yoongi say, “You can stay in the guestroom, if you want. It’s clean and ready for you.”
“You can stay in the guestroom, Jihoon is staying right here,” you assert, reaching blindly for him and clinging to his hand when you find it.
The time after losing your virginity can be fraught with emotion, and you’re not going to make Jihoon go through that alone. You also happen to feel unbearably fond of him now, and you’re itching to give him the affection he deserves after listening to Yoongi so well.
Yoongi just holds his hands up in surrender, muttering, “You’re middle spoon, then.”
As if that’s some kind of hardship.
Yoongi pulls two pairs of pajamas and a big t-shirt out of his drawer, passing one set over to Jihoon before walking over to you and carefully pulling the t-shirt over your head. He reaches into the arm holes and pulls your arms through like you can’t do it yourself, and you’d tease him if you didn’t feel so exhausted, you could pass out.
You have to get up so Yoongi can strip the comforter off the bed, and instead of putting it in the wash like he should, he just tosses it to the floor and grabs the backup from the closet. He waits for you to get under the sheets before throwing it over you, letting it float down to cover the bed and climbing in behind you.
Clothed in his borrowed pajamas, Jihoon awkwardly hovers by the side of the bed, looking unsure. You turn down his side of the comforter and reach a tired hand out, sighing contentedly when he blushes, smiles, and slides in, snuggling up against you.
Yoongi’s arm wraps around your waist and yours wraps around Jihoon’s, and the three of you sink into sleep easily, comfortably, warmly, even as the sun rises and seeps through the edges of your blackout curtains.
They’re making breakfast together and chatting about music when you limp downstairs, fresh out of the shower and starving out of your mind. You wonder if it will be awkward, but then Yoongi presses a kiss to your cheek and raises a brow at Jihoon, clapping him on the shoulder when he does the same, and that's how you know things will be just fine.
AN: would not exist without @bbychocolat jokingly saying "woozi yoongi threesome" and the help of @highvern @whipped-for-kpop-fics @wooahaeproductions and @daechwitatamic! thank you all for sharing your yoongi expertise and holding my hand throughout this journey (and it was a journey)
i've never written yoongi before!! pls tell me your thoughts i am desperate to know 💖
#k vanity#svthub#woozi x reader#woozi smut#woozi imagines#woozi scenarios#woozi x you#suga x reader#suga smut#suga x you#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#yoongi fanfic#bts fanfic#bts smut#seventeen fic#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt smut#svt fanfic#svt imagines#svt x reader#bangtan smut#bangtan oneshot#✨emily writes✨
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dilemma
being single and broke on valentine's day is not what you expected - especially when your dealer is waiting for his payment.
@momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63
word count: 4.063
warning: drug dealer yoongi, oral (m receiving), kissing, smut, praising, weed smoking, unprotected sex, dirty talking, cumshot,
valentine's day masterlist
“Suga…” you murmur to the phone pressed to your ear. The sound of the shower is loud in the background as you wait for the water to turn hot.
“Y/N.” the voice on the other side murmurs, voice deep and a little raspy. “You know you don’t have to call me that. I’ve known you for years now.”
You touch the water and hum. “I know. I like saying it, though.” you respond to the man on the other side. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you from anything. It is Valentine’s Day afterall.”
You hear a chuckle on the other side. “Nothing at all. I was just dozing off when you called.”
You lick your lips. You texted first, asking if he had your usual - nothing but an eighth of weed to hold you off. When he didn’t respond, you called.
You knew Yoongi way back from your High School years that then rolled into college and even now, as you worked at your big girl job. His product was good, affordable and he always threw deals for clientele such as yourself - loyal, as he calls them. There’s been times in which Yoongi would add extra to the bag he sold you just because.
“That’s sad. Figured a guy like you had someone to spend the day with him." The shower water is now hot. “I guess we’re both lonely on this holiday.”
You hear a grunt come from Yoongi. “I guess we are.” There’s silence for a moment from the both of you. “What do you suggest we do about that then?”
You lick your lips, your heart pumping at his sudden choice of words.
Another reason why you liked Yoongi - he always flirted back, no matter how subtle. You ponder if he was like this with all his clientele - but you understood that with you, he was. It never went past light flirting and lingering eyes, but it’s fun to engage with, nonetheless.
“How about I drop off your usual and then we can smoke together?” Yoongi questions, a coolness in his voice. “I have a new strain you can try.”
“A new strain?” you open the shower door and get inside. The water hits your back and you lowly moan at the nice sensation of it. “That would be nice, Yoongi. How long do you think you’d be?”
“Not long. Are you in a rush?”
“No. I’m just showering.”
Yoongi is silent for a moment and you lick your lips in anticipation.
“Getting pretty for our smoke session, I see. How nice.” there’s shuffling in the background as you laugh at his response. “I’ll be there in around 20.”
“See you.”
You scrubbed your skin furiously as if it was covered in the most dirt and grime ever. Your showers lasted longer than 10 minutes - especially when it was an everything shower. How you managed to do everything in 10 minutes was beyond you, but you managed. You still had to get out and make yourself look good without appearing as if you were trying too hard.
You tilt your head in the mirror, mind wandering.
What if Yoongi was just a natural flirt? You were probably thinking far too into the flirtings - here you stood in front of a mirror pondering on what lingerie to wear for a man that sold you weed. Could you get any more pathetic than that?
Then again, what exactly did you have to lose?
You sigh. Your dignity was one - and so was good weed for the low if Yoongi decided to deny you.
“Fuck it.” you shrug away your nerves, deciding that even if Yoongi denied you, that wouldn’t stop you from at least attempting.
You knew Yoongi likes black - it’s all you ever truly see him in. You decided on a lacy black one you only ever wore once - for pictures - and covered it with a long t-shirt that stops at your thighs.
Your phone sounds and you exhale a breath. You place the phone upon your ear and murmur a soft hello. “YN…” you feel the goosebumps of hearing your name come from Yoongi’s lips. “...I’m outside.”
“Coming.” you sing-song.
It’s evening in February and that meant it was a bit chilly out, but you’d choose to ignore the piercing feeling of the cold breeze against your legs.
Yoongi’s car matched him, you thought. It was a black sedan with the darkest tint of windows you’ve ever seen. It stands out in the driveway of your way - your own car wasn’t as new as his nor was the surrounding ones belonging to your neighbors.
The car is still on, but Yoongi assures that the lights aren’t. You got into his car swiftly, admiring how clean it was and how him it felt.
“You look nice.” Yoongi comments, flickering on the light.
“In a big ass t-shirt?” you snort, but even your heart is pounding from the compliment. If he thought you looked nice now, you wondered just how he’d like your lingerie.
Yoongi chuckles. “Yeah.” he nods. “You smell nice, too.”
You bite your lip, glancing at Yoongi's way.
“This is a nice car.” you had to change the subject. Yoongi was such a smooth talker and everything he said had a tone of seriousness to it. It was hard not to be tongue tied around him. “You can’t get all your money just selling weed.”
Yoongi knits his brows. “Sounds like you’re fishing for information.” he murmurs.
“Just an observation.”
Yoongi grasps a small rectangular box. He opens it, revealing pre-rolled blunts wrapped in paper. “You’re correct. It isn’t all I sell.” he says. “But, Y/N…ignorance is bliss.” Yoongi lights one of the blunts and hands it to you. “Ladies first.”
You gently grab the blunt, trying to ignore the way Yoongi’s eyes watch you. You feel nervous underneath his intense stare, contemplating how you would make your move upon him.
Yoongi licks his lips, eyes trailing down to your exposed legs. They appeared soft and smooth and he wanted to test the theory, but he held himself back.
Yoongi blinks when your hand comes into his line of vision. Yoongi shakes his head. “You can keep that one. I’ll light another.” he says, opening the box once more and grabbing yet another blunt.
You giggle. “That seems excessive.” But you take Yoongi’s word for it and continue to smoke as Yoongi lights his own. “Isn’t there a rule for using your own supply?”
Yoongi chuckles, taking a drag of his blunt. “My supply would be fine, trust me.”
“I feel bad though.” you murmur, glancing out the window. It’s hard to see with the tint and you just thought that was perfect. “I made you come all the way here for nothing.”
Yoongi is intrigued. He watches as you slowly turn towards him, body facing his way now in the large seat. He wants to tear his eyes away from the way the oversized shirt rises up your thigh, but it takes him a whole ten seconds to do so - and yes, he did count.
“How so?” Yoongi swallows, finally lifting his eyes to reach yours. He continues to smoke as he awaits your response.
“I don’t have any money.” your blunt was smaller than his now as you take a few puffs before continuing. “I should have told you once I realized. You know, bills, rent and all.”
Your throat feels dry. Yoongi slowly nods his head before releasing a laugh.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to pay me.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders. “You’ve been a loyal customer for years.”
Your eyes watch Yoongi inhale the smoke and exhale it through his nose. Your legs clench, finishing the blunt that has grown small.
“That would be taking advantage of you. I don’t want to do that.” you shake your head.
“I consider you a friend of mine, Y/N.” You feel the jolt in your heart that tells you that your plan was going to fail. “You’re the only one that I would give such luxuries to.”
The jolt is back, but this time your plan was back in action. “Oh?” you ask, opening the window and flickering the small bud out of it. “I consider you a friend of mine, as well. But still…”
Yoongi blinks, tilting his head.
“...I don’t just want to leave without offering you something.”
Yoongi’s unsure if he’s completely understanding what you’re speaking but he doesn’t have a moment to digest, either. You’re fast and swift, swinging your leg around and sitting completely onto his lap. Yoongi gasps when he feels you directly on him, the oversize shirt riding up your thighs once more.
There’s an open water bottle in the cup holder and Yoongi is quick to drop the rest of his blunt inside of it, not caring if he has wasted the rest entirely because you were in his lap. Yoongi is hesitant to touch you - he wants to feel the softness of your thighs. But he allows himself to slowly, telling himself that if you didn’t want him to, you wouldn’t be in his lap now.
“You don’t have to offer me anything.” Yoongi murmurs, leaning back into his seat and looking up at you.
Yoongi’s hands are big and they feel nice on you. You’d recall often staring at them whenever you and he were together - usually when he was bagging your weed.
“I want to.” your hands send electric shocks through him when he feels them onto his neck. “You’ve been good to me after all these years. Always giving me deals, supplying more than what I ask for.”
Yoongi grunts when he feels you begin to grind against him and he is but a man, and within seconds he’s painfully (and embarrassingly) hard.
“You even used to listen to my drunk ramblings when I’d call for weed.”
Yoongi snorts. “They were entertaining.” he admits, recalling the time you’d call him in all hours of the night back during your college days, ask for your usual, then completely change the topic of conversation. He never told you to shut up like you would have in his position.
Your hands slide down from his neck to his chest. You then grip the hem of your shirt and begin to lift. Yoongi watches in a trance, eyes slightly widening. In his eyes, you move in slow motion, taking off the oversize shirt.
Yoongi feels a lump in his throat and he tries his hardest to swallow it. His eyes are fixed on you - the black lingerie you wore that hugs you perfectly. It leaves little to the imagination, a lacy material covering your skin. He can see the outlines of your nipples - aroused and hardened for him.
“Cat got your tongue?”
Yoongi manages to swallow, eyes glancing up to look at you. You’re smirking down at him, satisfied that he was tongue tied.
“You knew you were going to come out here and do this to me.” Yoongi presse you firmly against him, hands roaming up your sides. “That’s why you smell so good and your skin is so soft.”
Yoongi doesn’t intend to hold anything back now - not as you sit in his lap and allow him to touch you freely. He leans into your neck and inhales the sweet scent of your natural aroma mixed with perfume, a scent he’s sure he smelled before. He doesn’t want to think too much into it (or admit that he has smelled you when he’s given you your usual because he wasn’t a creep).
“Guilty.” you mumble, lowering yourself so you’re a few inches from his face.
Yoongi places his lips against yours, moaning into the kiss. It catches you by surprise for a moment, but then you melt into him. His hands roam your body, palms feeling what skin you have exposed.
Your teeth sink into Yoongi’s bottom lip, lightly tugging it. Your palms slide into the back of his neck just as Yoongi’s begin to cup your ass.
“You want to do this here?” questions Yoongi, a dark look in his eyes. He isn’t opposed to it, however, the way he wants to have you would be quite difficult in his car.
“We can go inside.” you murmur, lips kissing down his jawline.
Licking his lips, Yoongi nods. “You know you don’t have to do this if you think you need to pay me.” he has to be sure that it’s something you truly want to do - ignoring that you did come out here in lingerie and willingly sat in his lap after he stated you didn’t have to pay him.
“Maybe I just want to fuck you.” was your response and now, Yoongi is sure that tonight you’d get exactly what you were asking for.
The next is a blur. You managed to put your shirt back on while Yoongi gathered his own belongings and getting out the car. He keeps his hands on you as he follows you back inside your home and once the door is closed, you’re on him once more.
There had to be an attraction prior to this - between the both of you. You’d notice oftentimes that Yoongi’s eyes would wander when he thought you weren’t looking, and he also noticed how you’d become so giddy or flushed when he was around. This was bound to happen sooner or later - but never Yoongi leading it.
So you had to.
“Do you have a condom?” you ask Yoongi, possibly far too late. “I’m not on any birth control.”
Yoongi nods his head, glad that he left condoms in his wallet with him.
“I’m clean.” Yoongi mentions, a dust of crimson on his cheeks.
You smile. “So am I.”
You then fall to your knees, lifting the oversize shirt over your head. You then place them on the belt of his jeans, eyes glancing up at him.
Goosebumps run through Yoongi’s skin at what you’re trying to do and he’s quick to help you. He loosens his belt and you do the rest.
Yoongi’s already hard from seeing you on your knees and the thought of what's about to come next. He watches with his mouth agape as you take his cock out of his underwear, licking your lips.
It’s a rush going through you right now and for an odd reason, you feel yourself clenching around nothing just at the sight of Yoongi above you - and the thought of pleasuring him.
“Shit…” Yoongi murmurs to himself, swallowing once his mouth becomes dry. You’re pumping his cock gently, eyes admiring at how pretty it looked. He was cleanly trimmed, cock erect and twitching in your hands.
You place a kiss on the tip of Yoongi’s cock before your tongue dips out and licks a single stripe upon it as if it was a lollipop. You can hear Yoongi’s breath hitching, and it’s what motivates you to continue.
Your tongue twirls around the tip, sucking it completely into your mouth. Your eyes glance up at the man, satisfied when his eyelids are closed and he’s beginning to pant.
Yoongi tries his hardest to remain upright, but then he feels your mouth more. So wet and warm and inviting - you take him into your mouth fully, continuing to suck as if your life depended on it. Yoongi leans against your front door, the back of his head pressed against it.
Deeper and deeper, you take Yoongi in your mouth. You rarely found your own pleasure when it came to pleasuring men - but this is different.Yoongi is hot, you’d admit, and even hotter when he’s moaning and panting because of you. You find yourself cleaning your own legs for any friction.
Managing to open his eyes, Yoongi looks down at you. Your cheeks are sucked in due to all the sucking you’re doing and wet slurping could be heard. Yoongi groans again because, damn - “You’re so pretty.” he grumbles, embarrassed because he didn’t mean to say it aloud and sound so damn whipped.
Your heart jolts at Yoongi’s compliment and it only causes you to suck harder, your jaw beginning to hurt but you refuse to stop because Yoongi (your weed dealer at that) called you pretty.
Yoongi pushes himself out of you - he’s unsure how he managed. His hand grasps your chin as he pants out a pathetic, “I don’t want to cum yet.”
There’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to Yoongi’s cock and it breaks when you slide your tongue over your lips.
“Okay.” you nod at Yoongi. “Maybe next time.”
Yoongi swallows and for a moment closes his eyes. You were a vixen - someone sent by the universe to fuck up his life. And most important, he was willing for you to do so.
“Y-yeah.” Yoongi mentally screams at himself for stuttering. “Next time.” He was known for his cool demeanor, a complete nonchalant person. You were breaking down walls he was certain wouldn’t bulge.
You grin, small and cute, and nod back at him. “Next time you can return the favor, too.” you suggest. “Now I just want to ride you.”
Yoongi shudders. He’s certain now. The universe sent you indeed. It sent you to humble him, telling him that there was someone out there who could break down the walls he placed.
Your bedroom is far while the living room is a few feet away. You lift to your feet, waving at Yoongi to follow you. He does, awkwardly, lifting his pants just so they aren’t dragging across the ground.
You push Yoongi onto your couch, enjoying the sight of the man. “Condom?” you knit your brows.
“Right.” Yoongi mumbles, cheeks tinted red. He goes through his pockets and gets out his wallet. The condom falls out smoothly, a small, square black package.
You watch as Yoongi places the condom onto his cock and soon, you’re hovering above him.
“Crotchless.” you giggle to Yoongi, who appears confused when you don’t remove the lingerie.
Yoongi gulps, nodding his head. You don’t allow him a chance to process, you’re already centering yourself and slowly engulfing him fully.
Yoongi shudders at your warmth, even through the condom, of your pussy. He bites his lip, hands immediately on your hips as you begin to rise and fall. You’re so beautiful, his hands slide up your sides and then cup your breasts. With the lingerie you’re wearing, your breasts are seconds from falling out and he decides to speed up the process.
“I’ve wanted you for so long.” Yoongi muffles himself between your breasts, large hands squeezing them. He kisses them, his tongue poking out to lick a nipple.
“Me, too.” you huff, your nails digging into the shirt of his shoulders. You imagined far too many times what Yoongi’s cock looked like and what it would look like inside of you.
Yoongi begins to thrust with you, his left holding the flesh of your ass. His tongue continues to twirl on your nipple in utter boyish bliss. He ponders while fucking you what you’d feel like raw - he imagines how tight you’d be around him, how wet and even warmer than you are now
“Shit…you’re so tight.” Yoongi kisses up your neck. “All for me.”
There’s a change in Yoongi’s tone of voice, no longer a stutter or a tint of uneasiness. You feel it in the way he begins to thrust harder, no longer allowing you to take control. So this was the Yoongi you knew (now know sexually) - cool, nonchalant and dominant.
With each thrust Yoongi hits a sweet spot and you moan with pleasure. His eyes continue to watch you contort with different emotions at what he’s doing. “You’re moaning like you’re in love, baby.”
You suck in a breath at the pet name. Fuck Yoongi, seriously, because you probably did look that way. But it wasn’t your fault - you don’t get fucked this good often and when you do well…
“You haven’t stopped moaning either.” you retort, somehow managing to find your words. You wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, your lips close to his ears. “Almost like you’re in love.”
Yoongi feels it - your tongue. It swipes at his ear teasingly and that’s all he needed to flip you onto your back, hitting the couch rapidly. He throws your legs over his shoulders and lifts his shirt a bit so he can continue to fuck into you. The position allows him to go even deeper, hitting that spot so sweet that you’re wailing.
“So wet. Wish I could feel you.” Yoongi says more to himself than you. There’s a creamy wetness wrapped around the condom, your pussy leaking with pleasure.
You begin to pant, eyes snapping shut. You were beginning to think that maybe you were becoming dick drunk, because your next words surprise you just as it does him. “If you can pull out, you can take off the condom. Cum on me, too.”
“Shit, baby, really?” Yoongi halts his thrusts. Did he hear you correctly? “You can’t be that high.” he jokes.
“Fuck you.” you hiss low. “Just take it off and fuck me, Yoongi.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Yoongi does as he’s told, quickly getting up to undress his bottom half. He removes the condom and looks around.
“Just throw it-”
“I’m not throwing it on the ground.” Yoongi raises a brow. “I’m not a caveman.” He was far too respectful and sanitary for that,even if it was just for a moment.
You huff and nod, pointing behind you to the direction of the bathroom.
Yoongi dashes down the hall, discards the condom, and rushes back. He kisses your cheek quickly, centering himself back at your whole.
Yoongi winces, then shudders.
You felt better than he’d imagined - warm, wet and still tight. He’s slow at first, trying to collect himself. Your legs are over his shoulder again, and he reaches inside of you deeper and deeper.
“You look in love.” you joke, mocking him. Yoongi hasn’t looked away from your pussy since he started.
“Maybe I am.” Yoongi’s nails dig into your thighs, his thrusts picking up the pace. The sweet sounds of your moans mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy hit his ears. “You’re clenching around me so tight.” his eyes flicker to you, and he smirks. “Like you want me to cum in you.”
Yoongi pounds inside of you, each thrust aggressively deep. You don’t mean to say it - but Yoongi was playing a dangerous game as if you weren’t already high and horny.
“Maybe I do.”
Yoongi grumbles something inaudible. Indeed you were sent from the universe - he’s read about nymphs and you’re beginning to fit the description.
“You do, huh?” Yoongi opens your legs and marvels at the sight of your pussy, his cock being milked with your essence lovingly. His thumbs place itself onto your clit and he rubs. “You’re just talking. Good weed and dick would do that to you.”
Cocky Yoongi is back and damn was it hot.
You opened your eyes to see Yoongi in the act.
A mistake.
Yoongi’s looks completely feral, eyes dark with lust. His hair sticks to his forehead and his mouth is slightly agape, panting to himself. His eyes are fixed to your pussy and you decided to see just what he saw.
You were cumming now - Yoongi circling your clit just as rough as he was fucking you. His cock fits perfectly inside of you and watching the way he fucks you just sends you completely over the edge.
“There you go, baby.” chuckles Yoongl raspily, witnessing you cum for him. “You look pretty cumming on my cock.”
A few more sloppy thrusts and Yoongi’s certain he’s near. He bites his lip, pulling out of you abruptly. His cum spills on your clit, warm and slippery.
You huff, shaking your head. “You managed to pull out.” you murmur.
Yoongi falls back against the couch to catch your breath. “Almost didn’t.” he admits with a laugh. “You hungry?”
You nod your lazily, the side effects of the weed coming to you.
“I can get us something to eat.” Yoongi offers. “Free of charge. You don’t have to fuck me-”
You kick Yoongi, a rush of hot embarrassment running through you, but all the man does is laugh, gummy smile on full display.
#btswritersclub#bangtan smut#bangtanwriters net#btswriterscollective#btswritingcafe#bts smut#trivia-yandere#bangtanwritershq#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#suga smut#suga x reader#Dilemma#trivia-yandere’s valentine’s day masterlist
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One of Your Girls - MYG (18+)
Pairing: Gangster!Yoongi X Chaebol!Reader
Theme: PWP, SMUT
Wordcount: 1.2k
Summary: Min Yoongi has been threatening your father. But that's not the problem. The problem is that you wanna get fucked by him.
Warnings: Explicit sex, doggy style, unprotected sex (wrap it up), creampie, spanking, domish-yoongi, overstimulation, one night stand, mentions of smoking and drinking. NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: Another smut, because why not.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” No Eul nudges you with her elbow, reminding you how questionable are the things you are doing right now.
“Yes. The best idea I have ever come up with.” your pride spills through your voice as you reply without shifting your eyes from him.
“But girl! He is a gangster! Do you know what that means?” your friend is now starting to be annoying.
You shut your eyes, resisting yourself from lashing out on her.
“Do I look like a seven year old to you? Of course I know what a gangster is, Eul!” You emphasize your point as much as you can. But you know your ‘idea’ would sound absurd to anyone.
“Then why are you even doing this? What if he gets offended and he just… he just kills you?” No eul’s eyes are full of fear but you know it’s pointless. Rumors have it that Min Yoongi doesn’t kill women and children unless there is a very good reason.
And killing you just because you asked him to fuck you? Seems like a far fetched thought. But you are not going to explain that to your friend, not right now, standing in the middle of a dingy nightclub.
When you place your eyes on Yoongi again, his meeting has already ended and he is walking towards the bar island.
“Omg omg! He is finally free. I am gonna go. Eul, just take a cab home and make sure Mr. Go doesn’t see you.” you speak hastily, already trying to beeline to Yoongi.
“But Y/N..”
“Eul.. Go! Don’t just stand here. This is not the place for people like us. Just go home.. I will call you as soon as I am free.” waving Eul off, you start walking towards Yoongi.
He looks karismatic as he sips on his drink, eyes focusing on nothing in particular. His dark long hair reaches to his nape, his pale skin glistening under the dim light of the bar counter, veins pop out on his arms and you wonder how those hands would feel on your body.
Your heels click on the floor as you walk towards the man but you can’t hear the sound because of the loud music in the background.
What you can hear is the loud beating of your heart, which gradually increases as you reach close to him.
“Is that seat taken?” you voice, making sure you sound confident enough.
And then he looks at you with those dark eyes, you feel your soul leaving your body slowly. Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He only regards you for a few moments and you wait patiently for his answer.
“What are you doing here?” His voice is sharp but you don’t understand if he is upset with you for being at this place.
“You know me?” placing your question, you take a step towards him.
Yoongi scoffs at your dumb question.
“Do you think I went to threaten your father without doing any research on your familyline?” he cocks one of his eyebrows.
You don’t say anything, rather you sit down on the empty seat beside him. There is no point in waiting for his answer anymore.
But your mind briefly goes back to the day when he broke into your mansion, injuring all of the guards on duty and threatening your father by taking him aside. You were enamored by this mysterious, scary man and all you wanted was to be under his authority for once.
“Did your daddy send his little daughter to deal with me? So that a bigshot businessman like him doesn’t have to be seen with a thug like me, huh?” Man! Yoongi really hates your dad for whatever reason you are not aware of.
“No. I came here alone, all by myself” you reply, sucking in a deep breath.
“Alone?” Yoongi mocks you, as if he knows you are lying.
“I mean alone with Mr. Go, my driver.” you answer and Yoongi scoffs.
“And why did you do that? Why did you come here?” the fine hairs of your neck stand up at the low, husky voice of the man. Especially because he has scooted closer to your body without your knowledge.
“I came here to see you.”
“The reason?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Yoongi’s eyes turn darker at your proposal. And your heart starts beating even faster.
“Do you know what you are asking for?”
“I do. We don’t have to be in love or something. Just make me one of your girls for the night.”
Yoongi’s tongue darts out of his mouth and wets his lips but he doesn’t say a thing.
Your cries get muffled on the pillow, your wrists sting due to the tight hold of Yoongi’s rough calloused hand. But you feel euphoric.
Yoongi’s fat cock hits your g-spot each time he thrusts into you. The lewd sound of wet squelching and skin slapping fill your ears.
“Your rich cock-hungry whore! You really got the nerves of asking me for a fuck huh? You brat!” Yoongi’s voice is breathless and you want to admire it but before you could, a sharp slap lands on your bare ass. You scream on the pillow.
“Fuck! So tight! Your pretty little rich boyfriends never really fucked you this good, huh?” he pulls his dick out of your entrance, leaves on the tip inside and then enters you again with full force. Your world starts swinging because of the sensession.
“N-no- Nobody ever fucked me this good, yoo-Yonngi.”
Nother slap lands on your ass.
“Did I give you the permission to call me by my name?” Yoongi pinches your clit with his free hand.
“No-fuck- I am so-ahhh” before you could apologize, he starts rubbing rough circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“G-gonna cum.” you inform him while drooling messily on the pillow.
“Cum.” Yoongi commands. And you let yourself go.
Honestly you thought he was going to deny your orgasm and you were a little shocked when he permitted you.
But your confusions soon go away, when he flips you, lays you on your back all while still being inside you and starts thrusting into you again.
Your mind goes numb due to overstimulation. You barely can make out what’s happening.
Your senses finally start coming out of the clouds when you feel hotness flood in your hole.
Fuck! Yoongi just came inside you!
“Get your clothes and leave.” he says as he pulls out his dick.
Even though his harshness hurts you a bit, you know he is right. You should leave as soon as possible.
So you sit up, grab your panty from the floor, slip into it and walk towards Yoongi for one last time.
Yoongi has lit up a cigarette and the smoke makes it tough to make out his expression under the fluorescent lights of the motel. But you know he is staring at you.
Reaching on your tiptoes, you place a kiss on his cheek and maybe that catches him off guard.
“It was nice knowing you, Yoongi.” you say in his ears before taking your heels and walking out of the door.
Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie
#bts smut#yoongi smut#suga smut#bts x reader#yoongi x reader#suga x reader#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi smut#bts x you#yoongi x you#bts x y/n#yoongi x y/n#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#yoongi fanfic#bts yoongi#bts
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Carnal Desire (1/3)
The last person you expected to see was an ‘old friend’ from nearly a decade ago, but you’re determined to show the man that you’re no longer the little girl he use to know.
@bloodline1632 @seokjinkismet @babycandy111
Word Count: 2.070
Warning: smut, stripper reader, mafia/gangster yoongi, haegeum type vibes fr fr, grinding, finger sucking, the reader is down bad, but so is yoongi, kissing, sucking,
“You’ll do amazing, really!” Bunny - your co-worker - says as she pats the highlighter upon your cheekbones. “You’re already on your way to becoming a favorite.”
You take a deep breath and nod.
“Please stay focused. We have very important people tonight.”
And there it was, your nerves kicking back in once more.
You only been here for a week - the high end strip club is more than you imagined. You often thought it would be littered with creeps and smelt of cheap booze and cigarettes - but maybe you just chose the right one.
Your name is being called now and from behind the curtains, you notice the lights dim, and the red spotlight appears. You clicked your heels, rounding the curtain and made your way towards the middle of the stage. It’s amazing how you were able to turn your nerves off when needed be - you were highly grateful that you didn’t need any liquid courage to do so.
Bunny was correct when she said it would be a busy night - and the important people she spoke of had to be front and center. You sway your hips to the pole, hooking a leg around it and swinging as you do - a routine you practiced for the past two days.
You often don’t look into the crowd while performing - you were a natural overthinker and the last thing you needed was to mess up in front of a group of men. However, this was different. You had important people here tonight and your boss informed each dancer tonight to “appear” available and interested.
You regret taking her advice.
You drop to your knees slow and sultry, crawling towards the edge of the stage. Smoking typically wasn't allowed, but important guests always got their way. Your eyes focus on the man smoking and you froze.
Those eyes - such cold and feline-like eyes. They flash in your mind and you were brought back to your childhood; specifically your teenage years. As the smoke clears, as does your vision on the man - pale, porcelain-like skin, hard eyes and a low smirk on his lips.
Yoongi.
Min Yoongi was before you. He was the important guest tonight - he looked it. Even in the sea of people, you can smell the expensive cologne mixed with the nicotine smell. He appeared clean shaven and had not aged since you last saw him a decade prior.
Yoongi brings the cigarette back into his lips, his fingers curling as he does so. Your eyes glance to his hands, large and veiny and full of shining diamonds.
Your eyes begin to grow dry and you blink. You finally inhale to not have your head go any more lightheaded than necessary.
You hear a hiss of your name and your body immediately reacts. You begin to crawl once more, your eyes on nobody but Yoongi now. He furrows a brow and appears amused and curious.
Min Yoongi was before you.
Your Min Yoongi.
The same Min Yoongi that your father despised - called him a thug and everything but a decent human being. Father’s never approved of their little girls being hooked on an older man - but he was only two years older; if that. The same Min Yoongi who you had once admitted to loving during too many drinks and even when you insisted on showing him you weren’t a little girl, he never took advantage of your advances.
Min Yoongi was before you now - and you weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a woman that grew into her curves and appearance, and you were determined to show him just that.
It’s crazy to think that just one look at him made you feel as you did as a teenager - shy, but willing, giddy and wanting to prove yourself to him.
Yoongi leans closer to the stage just as you lean forward. Your manicured hand grasps his large ones and grasps the cigarette. You were never a smoker - he knows this. But he only smirks as you take a puff of it and blow it at him.
Your time was up, but your eyes linger onto Yoongi’s longer as you exit the stage. You feel it all fall on you at once - the nerves and nausea. Yoongi was here. He had seen you like this - what was he thinking? Has he remembered you?
“What was that?” Bunny heels slam against the floor as she rushes to you. “Do you know who that is?”
Yes. “No.”
Bunny’s eyes widened. “You don’t know who Suga is?”
Suga. Yoongi must have made another name for himself. He was once someone your father considered bad news and you can only guess what he was into back then - but Yoongi is a man now. He surrounded himself with men, him directly in the middle. He was an important member of whatever society he ran with; you didn’t really care much to ask.
“I was told to entertain the guests.” you shrug your shoulders. “Suga seems to be a very important person.”
Bunny nods with wide eyes. “Extremely. He dabbles in organized crime and is one of our biggest spenders here. You-”
“Y/N.”
You freeze, as does Bunny.
“I’m dead.” you murmur to Bunny who slowly nods.
Your boss’ eyes are upon you when you turn. Her arms are crossed as she motions you to follow her.
“I-I didn’t mean-”
“You aren’t in trouble.” your boss murmurs as you saunter towards her. “Seems like your little stunt caught Suga’s eye. He never pays for a dance.”
Yoongi did remember you.
Your heart races as your boss points to the back rooms, the further room in the back. The only room without a camera.
You look yourself over in the mirror. Your hair appeared to be in place still, as did your makeup. Your lingerie hugs you nicely and your heels were just an added bonus.
It grows hotter and quieter as you make your way down the hall to the back room - a V.I.P section. You slide the door open and make your way in. Yoongi is seated upon the round, leather section. The room is surrounded with mirrors and low lights. On the table forward him is a large bottle of champagne - the most expensive there was at the club - and two glasses.
“Sit.” Yoongi says as you close the door behind you. He goes to pour both glasses of champagne, handing you one as you round the table.
“Thank you.” you murmur. It takes everything in you not to melt - but you are grown now and no longer the shy teenage girl.
You sit on his lap, legs swinging to trap him between your thighs. Your eyes meet his as you drink the champagne.
Yoongi’s pink tongue coats his lips as he leans back into the couch. He doesn’t go to move you from your laps, and even if you did, you wouldn’t leave without a fight. After all, he paid for your services - private dances weren’t cheap and especially not in the V.I.P backroom.
You discard your glass beside you without a care, licking your own lips.
“Y/N…Y/N…”
Your arms are fresh with goosebumps when you hear his voice say your name. He down the champagne, free hand rubbing against your thigh to your waist.
“How much you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.” Yoongi finally says as he finishes the champagne, discarding his own glass to the side.
“I can say the same for you…” you begin to roll your hips. “...Suga.” All the girls are informed to not be so close to a client. They paid for a certain amount of time - and in that time you were told to stall, only sitting upon them at the last few minutes of the dance.
Yoongi’s hands are as large as you know them to be, both now cupping your waist.
“How is it that when my name comes from your lips it sounds sweeter than ever before?”
Yoongi’s eyes rack over your figure.
You were no longer the little girl who followed him around against her father’s wishes. No, you were now a woman - a full grown woman who grew into her chest and hips. He recalls the amount of times he (against your own knowledge) would have to assure no creep used your naivety to their advantage.
Yoongi’s girl is what they called you - even back then. No matter how much he told anyone that you were nothing but a close friend to him; someone he would protect because he had a heart.
“Where have you been?” Yoongi allows his curiosity to get the best of him. He was no fool in knowing the pure hatred your father had for him - even if Yoongi never took advantage of your feelings for him. When you were old enough to consider making your own decision, you were shipped far away from Daegu - and that was ten years ago.
You continued your lap dance, your hands placing themselves on his shoulders. Yoongi is but a man and his eyes rack your figure in the tight lingerie, large hands rubbing up your side with a lick of his lips once more.
“My dad sent me to live with my aunt and continue school there.” you respond. “I came back when he got sick.”
Yoongi furrows a brow. Your father was sick. He hasn’t seen the man since he last saw you.
“Dropped out of school to take care of him. Now I’m here.” you roll your hips against the bulge forming in his pants. “With you.”
Yoongi feels your hands rub from his shoulders to his torso.
“What about you, Suga? You seem to have made a name for yourself.”
Yoongi was being far too modest for your liking. You grasp his hands in yours, eyes staring right into his. You allow his hands to roam your body, setting them right onto your breasts.
“I have.” Yoongi murmurs, voice deeper. “I own this city now, baby.”
You swallow at the pet name, leaning closer. You want to capture his lips with your own - they were so rosy and soft.
“I bet you do.” you murmur, warm breath against his lips. “Does someone run it with you?”
Yoongi tilts his head. He gives you a snicker. “You still got that crush, huh?” he teases. He squeezes your breast lightly before his right hand cups your check.
You grow hot at his words, swallowing thickly. You wouldn’t allow him to treat you like the same little girl you once were. You were an adult - you were in control of your own desires.
“It’s more than a crush now. I’m not a little girl.”
Yoongi knows this - he wants to tell you just how much you’ve grown since the last time he saw you.
“I can show you how much it’s grown.”
Yoongi can’t take his eyes from you. Your tongue peeks out and wraps around his thumb. You suck on it, eyes boring into his own. His cock twitches at the sultry act.
“Y/N…”
You moved fast. From sucking onto his thumb to your lips upon his. Your thighs clenched him beneath you tightly, never wanting to let go.
Yoongi loses himself in your touch, arms wrapping around your bare body, touching skin he never knew he would ever long to touch.
Your tongue dances with him, his hands cupping your ass, guiding you to continue to grind against his bulge.
“I want you, Yoongi.” you murmur against his lips.
“I know, baby.” Yoongi grunts. “I know…”
Your teeth clasps down onto his bottom lips, fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Then take me.”
Yoongi shudders, holding onto you even tighter.
“You can have me. All of me.”
Yoongi shakes his head, breathing quickening. Your words ring in his ears non-stop.
“I want to be your girl.” you continue - you refused to hear anything other than approval. “You can have all of me right now and forever.”
Yoongi lips are against the skin of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses. Your words are getting to him, his cock begging to take you.
But you weren’t a common whore - not just some pussy to wet his cock. You were someone he cared for deeply.
“You are my girl.”
Your lips meet his once more and your heart feels satisfied - it’s the same words you wanted to hear for years now.
Part 2 | Part 3
#yoongi x reader#mafia bts#bts mafia#yoongi mafia#suga x reader#bts smut#bangtanwritershq#btsmasterlist2022#btswritersclub#bangtan smut#min yoongi#bts suga#bts yandere#yoongi yandere#bangtanwriters net#btswriterscollective#btswritingcafe#yoongi smut#carnal desire#suga smut#explicit-tae#haegeum
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Yoongi Fic Recommendations
a - angst
f - fluff
s - smut
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Series
In the Margins (a s f)
⊹₊⋆ You weren’t sure what he would look like. His writing made you think of a cabin nestled among tall pines, a well-worn cardigan, a scotch neat, and a wistful wisp of smoke seeping into the air from the bowl of an unattended tobacco pipe. What stands before you now is a studio apartment in the city, cigarette butts, coffee stains, and a scowl. There’s definitely been a mistake.
Fix You (f a)
⊹₊⋆ When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?
desolate (a f s)
⊹₊⋆ you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.
One Shots
Set Me Free (a f)
⊹₊⋆ Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to?
back-burner (a f s)
⊹₊⋆ sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?
Love Language (a s f)
⊹₊⋆ Your boyfriend obviously loves you, but his silence has you questioning if he *wants* you. If you could only get past your damn insecurities maybe you could appreciate what you have.
27 Phone Numbers (f)
⊹₊⋆ Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school.
sweetner (f s)
⊹₊⋆ You used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn't reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.
One Chance (f)
⊹₊⋆ A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project. And the last thing you ever would have expected.
Seasons Change (a s)
⊹₊⋆ Min Yoongi and you, through the seasons, break up and come back together. Nobody said love was easy.
All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t (a 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?
Now We Reign (a s f)
⊹₊⋆ 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?
take five (a f)
⊹₊⋆ you're min yoongi's nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out - he never said anything about accepting though.
The Final - Day 02 (s)
⊹₊⋆ You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?
hello soulmate (f)
⊹₊⋆ your first day on the job doesn't turn out the exact way you envisioned
Sugar Rush Ride (s)
⊹₊⋆ You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.
fuck being friends (a f s)
⊹₊⋆ as if watching the guy you were hopelessly in love with hook up with another girl each weekend wasn’t enough, he also happened to be your best friend, making things extra complicated. and it only gets worse and worse once he finds you crying in the bathroom at a party one night.
Take One (s f)
⊹₊⋆ There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word.
Illicit Favors (f s)
⊹₊⋆ When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.
Bet On It (s)
⊹₊⋆ What's a little wager between enemies? How about if it's your body on the line?
subscribed (s f)
⊹₊⋆ you find out that youtube isn’t the only site he uses to satisfy his subscribers. what do you do with that information?
#bts#bts x reader#bts fic recs#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#yoongi#min yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi fic recs#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi smut#min yoongi fic recs#min yoongi fluff#min yoongi angst#suga#suga x reader#suga smut#suga fic recs#suga fluff#suga angst
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Angel | myg (m)
☾ Pairing: Mafia!Yoongi x Sex worker! F. reader
☾ Summary: Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences.
☾ Word Count: 15,551
☾ Genre: Semi-established relationship, mafia, smut, surprising amount of fluff
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
☾ Warnings: Sex work and mentions of sex work, Yoongi and the reader are very confident in their relationship but also don’t want to ask for more, uses of the word whore negatively in some parts, vague references to dismemberment in an offhand conversation, intense action sequences, depictions of violence, reader is smacked around and kidnapped, depictions of injuries and pain, two sequences of detailed anxiety attacks, graphic depictions of blood, violent scene in which reader fights for her life and gores someone, depictions of murder/panicking while committing murder? Idk how to describe that one, mentions of nightmares/light reference to PTSD post-murder, explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (m. and f. receiving) light throat fucking, nipple play, ass play (f. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, Yoongi… almost doing a strip tease but it’s not as goofy as that it’s more sensual?? Yoongi is a little bit possessive at the end.
☾ Published: September 3, 2023
☾ A/N: You voted for it, you got it! Introducing the fic that came out on top for the Hali’s Happy Agust Bracket Challenge! Thank you to everyone who voted during the entire month of August, I had such an amazing time seeing everyone yelling and voting and sharing and having fun with it. It means the world to me that you guys have fun and enjoy doing these kinds of things! Here is mafia Yoongi in all of his glory - I did try to keep it tame with the murder/violence/criminal side of it because there are things in this genre I’d like to table in later (most likely on Hali’s After Dark) but I hope that you enjoy this! Somehow it really turned into two people who are just !!! eternally confident in one another, despite their strange trades. Shout out to the hurricane and covid for FAILING TO STOP ME FROM WRITING THIS I’M A GOD (not really I am very tired but I did it osifjdoigj). This is mostly edited.
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
Masterlist | Ask | Angel Playlist
Yoongi would rather be anywhere else but the low lit, smoky club. The production team on the dancefloor below uses way too much cryogenic smoke for Yoongi’s taste, fogging the dancing bodies with thick clouds, the lasers reflecting off the smoke in dizzying patterns. From the VIP section, he isn’t choked by the haze, but he is choking on the cloying perfume of the woman in his lap.
She’s pretty enough, one of Kwan’s finest. No doubt trained from a very young age to please her employer’s most prestigious guests. Yoongi doesn’t touch her though, save for letting her sit on his lap, her hand cradling the back of his neck. She leans into his chest, her breath close to his ear as he watches Kwan consider Yoongi’s deal.
Yoongi doesn’t have to make the deal at all. Offering to become a minority owner of the club is a mercy, really. Yoongi could go after the investors who fronted the money when Kwan opened his business in the middle of the entertainment district, and he could wipe out the petty criminals pushing drugs in shadowy alcoves near the bathroom, damaging the cut that Kwan takes from them at the end of each night.
Yoongi could even go as far as to sow chaos every night, sending in his followers to pick fights with the elite clientele, make it a nightmare for the celebrity clients and cities government officials who use the back rooms for more nefarious matters, exposing the underbelly of La Vie if he felt like it.
Investments, Hoseok always insists. Investments, not enemies. They already hate that you’re taking a chunk of what they built - especially the seaside property. Let’s try to play nice and show face.
Forcing hands is exactly how Yoongi got to this position, sitting in a club and offering Kwan a rather generous deal: Kwan retains eighty percent of ownership, Yoongi becomes a twenty percent owner, the only person allowed to supply the club’s drugs, is paid for security services, and has access to the information funneled through those that work the private client rooms. He could just take it like he always has, and he still has half a mind to do.
Men like Kwan who think they’re savvy in business and the nuances of the criminal enterprises that run the city make Yoongi’s lip curl.
“These terms are bullshit, and I don’t have control of the back rooms.” Kwan looks up from the contract, glasses sliding down his nose. He’s a little bit older than Yoongi, and good looking. He has a traditionally handsome face that idols and actors like to get moderated to look like. He looks like new money though, with designer pieces that don’t quite match and a Patek watch that is flashy, but not coveted. “While it is under my jurisdiction, it is a handshake deal with Anya that she runs them the way she wants. They are her clients, not mine.”
“Then Anya will have a handshake deal with me.” Kwan’s face darkens. Yoongi is tired of this. Is tired of the feeling of the girl’s hand stroking the hair at the base of his neck, is tired of the way she presses up against him, and is tired of Kwan’s dawdling.
“Take the weekend to think about it,” Yoongi insists and stands. The girl falls off him, letting out a surprised sound as she hits the booth. Yoongi adjusts his suit and frowns when he sees there is body glitter on it. He casts a harsh look at the girl who stares up at him with big eyes before turning back to Kwan. “There are no terms for negotiating. Thank you for the drinks and the entertainment. You’ll hear from me.”
Kwan’s face is red like the neon of Yoongi’s favorite motel when he walks out of the booth. Synth and base rattle the metal catwalk that makes up the VIP section, overlooking the dancefloor. Seokjin slides into step with Yoongi as he goes, an imposing shadow as they circumnavigate the walkway.
It’s loud and raucous when they get to the dance floor. Members of the security team watch Yoongi as he goes, their eyes alert. He pays them little attention, just like the gazes of the people dancing in the ground when they catch sight of him.
Sometimes, Yoongi feels a little bit like a myth in moments like this. Out in public, Yoongi is an astutely dressed man who speaks quietly and says very few words. He wears nice but not gaudy jewelry, and he always styles his long hair slicked back, showing off the faded, red scar over his eye. What Yoongi lacks in height, he makes up for in omnipresent stares and quick reactions.
Everyone in the city knows exactly who Min Yoongi is, and they know that he doesn’t make threats. He simply acts.
Outside, rain falls from the inky sky. Hoseok leans against the brick wall under the awning, clove-tinged smoke drifting from the cigarette jammed between his lips. When he sees Yoongi, Hoseok pushes off the wall and adjusts his suit jacket. Where Seokjin looks tall, dark and imposing, Hoseok is wiry and sharp, dressed in all white, looking pristine as he raises his eyebrows at Yoongi in question. Yoongi nods towards the idling SUV as an answer.
They don’t bother with an umbrella. Yoongi ducks his head down as he quickly walks across the pavement and into the car. The interior is moderately cool in the SUV. He takes a seat in the middle, Seokjin sitting alone in the row behind him and Hoseok to his right.
Outside of the rainy window, the world turns into a smear of wet neon. Checking his watch, Yoongi notes that it’s just past midnight. If he hurries, he can stop by the Red before he goes home for the evening. If he goes home for the evening, at that point. The thought of sinking into sheets that smell like almond and cinnamon ease him.
“So?” Hoseok flicks through his phone, face lit up blue by the screen. He looks hauntingly beautiful, all edges and sharp lines. “Deal or no deal?”
“Giving him the weekend to think about it.” Hoseok sighs. “He thinks it’s a bad deal for him because it it is, and he’s stuck on the operation Anya runs in the back rooms. He doesn’t want to lose that connection to her. She feeds him information for his extortion of city officials.”
“How else would he have cleared that permit near the docks to build,” Seokjin mutters. Yoongi casts a glance into the back seat where Seokjin sullenly stares out of the window. “Fucker is sticking his nose in a district he has no rights to. At least we had the means to get that operation cancelled.”
“Yeah, and it’s part of why he doesn’t want to deal with us,” Hoseok says. “Even so, offering the deal is the right move. If he doesn’t take it, crush him like a fucking bug. He’s an intelligent businessman, it’s no surprise that he’s going to try and find a way around you. He might sniff around or try and fuck up some assets.”
“Hobi, you better fucking hope he doesn’t go to that fucker Seo.”
“He doesn’t have the balls. Seo Changbin is unhinged and volatile. He’s more likely to send Kwan to his family in chainsawed pieces.”
Yoongi grunts, amused. “Bang has kept him under control as of late. Seokjin, have Jungkook look into getting some people in there. I’m not interested in them linking up as permanent partners.”
A headache presses against Yoongi’s temples. He doesn’t care to debate politics and machinations with Hoseok and Seokjin. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the headrest, letting their discussion fall to a dull sound.
Yoongi feels like he’s bleeding at the edges, the color of him spilling out of neat lines and all over the pages. His empire is growing faster than he can keep up with, he’s playing politics more than he’s playing the savvy gangster, and the more capital he gains, the more of himself he loses.
When Yoongi had started to climb the ladder of crime and chaos, he didn’t know where it would lead him. An early grave, perhaps. But Yoongi has always been smart and knows how to pick his battles, knows how to innovate. He is not the most inspiring man to lead people in the underbelly of the city, but he does know what he’s talking about and he’s good at guessing what people want most.
People, he’s discovered, all want the same thing, whether they’re at the bottom rung or the top.
The boy he once was wouldn’t recognize him. The new Yoongi wears designer suits, the carefully curated art collections in the opulent halls of his home, the shaking hands with political figures to help install certain assurances within the city. There are more officials that line Yoongi’s pocket than there are gangs in the city, but it’s a weapon he wields well.
Old Yoongi might not be so impressed.
Yoongi feels the phantom ache of the scar on his eye. It doesn’t matter what old Yoongi wants, though. This new version of him is doing whatever he needs to live another day and to install another brick in his kingdom.
The driver drops Yoongi off at home. Tall gates with security cameras and guard house at the entrance keeps almost everyone away from the Min estate. There’s been a few idiots here or there who have climbed the walls and met the three lovely dobermans that roam the property freely.
Erebus catches Yoongi’s eyes as he walks to the large garage. The eldest of Yoongi’s canines sits and watches Yoongi approach with keen, dark eyes. He grins at the dog, whistling lowly. Erebus stands and joins Yoongi on his way to the side door, jamming in a code to the garage.
Inside, the automatic lights flip on. Yoongi squints from the harsh lighting, closing the door behind him. Rows of vehicles gleam under the fluorescents. Sports cars, old collectibles, sturdy SUVs. Yoongi has an armada at his disposal, though he so rarely drives himself anywhere these days. Not after Seo put a hit on him a few months ago, the insane fuck.
Yoongi pulls the tie loose from his neck and begins to change. He presses his finger on a thumb-print lock to a wardrobe and pops it open. Inside are casual clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, a riding jacket, boots and a gleaming black helmet. Nondescript clothes that can belong to anyone.
Every movement feels heavy. He should go upstairs and swallow down something to help him knockout, but he doesn’t. Instead, he finishes going through the motions and tosses the worn clothes in the wardrobe and walks over to the parked H2R in, all sleek, black metal.
Erebus sniffs Yoongi’s knee once, a sort of send off. Yoongi bends down and kisses the doberman on the head before shooing him, sending the dog through the garage and up the stairs that lead to the main house.
Instead of starting the bike in the garage and peeling out the front of the home, Yoongi pops the kickstand up and walks it out of the side door, careful not to bang the tailpipe on the door or scrape the shiny black paint. Once outside, he walks it through the entire yard, arms aching a little as he keeps the bike balanced.
Gravel crunches beneath his boots and the tires of the motorcycle. Crickets chirp in the yard until he makes it to the back gate in his home that opens up to a government only street. Being back-to-back with the minister has its perks, like an extra security measure that he doesn’t have to monitor constantly.
Swinging his leg over the bike, Yoongi slides the helmet on, turns the key, and presses the on switch. It roars to life, vibrating underneath him. He revs it a few times before he pulls back on the throttle and shoots down the street like a bullet from a gun.
Iron gates, walls and security houses blur past him. He lives among the gods of the city, high up over the glittering lights and those who pay pilgrimage to the political, criminal and tech giants who loom over them. Yoongi was one of them not that long ago, rising faster than he could have thought possible.
Still, he descends often. Nightly, even. Like even the most powerful gods, Yoongi’s weakness is a vice he can’t - doesn’t want to - rid himself from. While he doesn’t think of himself as impervious, Yoongi doesn’t have many weaknesses.
His biggest one, though, spends most days at the Red with a private suite in the luxury pleasure house disguised as a motel.
Yoongi parks his bike in a secured garage that he has a paid spot in. The payment for it is discrete and in all cash, one of Yoongi’s several attempts at covering his tracks when he visits.
The garage is still a few blocks away from the Red. He tucks his hands into his pocket, enjoying the balmy evening, rain still clinging to the air though not falling now. This late at night, there aren’t many people out. Cars drive by, tires hissing on the wet road. Neon lights burn above fluorescent-lit windows of small food shops.
At the end of a dead end street, a red motel sign buzzes against the night sky. The non-descript brick building doesn’t look like much, but Yoongi knows better than most. Instead of approaching the front door, he leans against the wall a few shops down, tucked underneath the shadow of an awning.
Pulling his phone out, he dials and brings it up to his ear. As the phone rings, he looks up at the four-story building. There are windows with dark curtains pulled shut and never opened. Yoongi knows that the glass looks ordinary, but is bullet proof grade to protect the most private of clients.
It doesn’t look like much. The brick is old, it’s bracketed by a laundromat and a hardware store, and across the street is a noodle shop and boarded up general store.
“It’s late,” you answer, voice scratchy. Yoongi nearly shivers at the sound of your voice, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in the rain-tinged night. “What’s a girl to do when a boy calls her this late, hmm?”
“Let said boy upstairs and out of the rain.”
“Hmm.” You don’t say yes, but Yoongi can hear the rustle of sheets and the soft creak of the bed when you get up. He waits in silence, though he imagines you’re walking across the bedroom to head to the main part of the state room. “It’s not even raining anymore, I bet.”
“It is. I’m soaked to the bone. Freezing. I might catch a cold.”
“Whatever shall we do?”
He grins, ducking his head. He can feel the warmth climb up his neck to his face, shaking his head. Only you can get him like this, heart skipping like he’s in grade school making out with someone behind the bleachers for the first time.
“Come on,” you tease on the other line. “Your door will be open.”
“Thanks, Angel.”
“Mhmm.”
His door isn’t really his. But it is a private access door in the back of the alley that requires a keycard and has an armed guard sitting in a security room next to the entry way on the inside. Yoongi hangs up the phone and heads to the special door, avoiding the puddles dripping from fire escapes.
Just as Yoongi reaches the heavy door, he hears the beep of the auto-lock and it swings open with you leaning on the frame. He wants to eat you whole. You’re not in work clothes, meaning you either wrapped up a while ago or didn’t work tonight. He doesn’t want to know so he doesn’t ask, instead walking up to you as you step to the side and let him in.
Glowing light flickers underneath the security door to the left. You close the door behind you and pass him, letting your fingers grab his hand and link fingers. There are security cameras here, but it’ll look normal, with you pulling him through the halls and to the elevator. Touching is very much permitted here. Encouraged. Required.
In the elevator, you stand by Yoongi. He leans into you, silent. You squeeze his hand, very small in his, but warm enough to soothe him. You smell faintly almond and cinnamon, making him go wild as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You giggle, leaning into him fully, arm pressed to arm.
Perhaps it’s stupid to be so open like this. When Yoongi first started coming here, he was still and awkward, never coming too close, never letting himself be too familiar. Now, the need for you is too strong. He doesn’t care if there’s a camera on him watching him melt into you. He doesn’t care if maybe it shows that this is a little more than money, a little more than just a quick fix.
Yoongi has been coming to you for almost three years. He doesn’t remember when it stopped being about sex, but it hasn’t been that way for a while. At first, he thought it was so silly. Mafia man in love with a woman he pays to have sex with him. Except it wasn’t so silly. You’d long stopped considering him a client and insisting he doesn’t pay you.
He doesn’t dare. He doesn’t know what money you make from clients. He knows that it has to be good to be at the Red, which specializes in top clientele. He knows it has to be great, even, because you always meet on your terms. In this space.
He also doesn’t dare to ask you to stop. He doesn’t know how many clients you take, or who. He doesn’t know when, he doesn’t know how often. He knows nothing about your work except that he doesn’t ask you to stop and you don’t ask him if he wants you too.
It’s an unspoken rule between you. Yoongi is too afraid to ask you to come live with him, and perhaps you’re too afraid to ask him to take you. Whatever the reasons, neither one of you is brave enough to cross the line first. So instead, you dance along it, making whatever this is work.
Inside the stateroom is clean and smells like expensive candles. The room is luxurious and is exclusively yours. A cut of your earnings go to holding the room, just like the rest of the workers in the other rooms.
With the door firmly locked behind the two of you, Yoongi heads to the open kitchen and leans against the counter, facing you. You kick off your slippers and turn to face him, half shadowed by the darkness of the hall, half lit by the warm salt lamp in the living room.
Yoongi drags his eyes up and down your frame. Soft curves, gentle lips, kind eyes. He was gone the first time he saw you, and he’s gone now. Even after all this time.
“What?” you ask, fingers fidgeting with your t-shirt. He thinks it might be one of his, but he might be imagining it.
“Come here,” he instructs, patting his thigh.
You grin and approach him. He opens his arms for you and he sighs as you press against him. Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing him tight. Slotting your head between his shoulder and neck, you hide your face against him, breath warm against his throat. He envelops you in his arms, wrapped around your shoulders and draped down your back.
Almond fills his senses. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing you in. You don’t say anything, content to sag against him in the low light of the room. This is what he comes here for more than anything. Everything else you offer is secondary. His foremost desire is this - you.
“Everything okay?” you finally ask, because of course you do.
“Mhmm. Just a long night.”
“You smell like perfume.”
“Hmm?”
“Like peaches.”
He opens his eyes and looks down at you. You crane your head so that you’re peering up at him with one eye, brow arched. His mouth twitches. “Jealous?”
“Maybe.”
“Interesting.”
“Not particularly.”
He lowers his arms, letting them drape around your waist. He smacks the round of your ass a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to make you pout. “We really going to get into the mechanics of this right now?”
Your smile is all he needs to know you’re not serious. At least, not enough to do something about it. “No, but it’s fun to tease you.”
“Perhaps I should tease you back, then.”
Hand in hand, you lead him to your room. Yoongi sees the white sheets and grins. White sheets are for him. Grey sheets are for clients, something you’d established in the infancy of whatever this relationship is. He appreciates the little layers of how you make things different for him. You make him feel special - and not the kind that he pays for.
Falling backward into the bed, you look up at him with those fucking eyes that make him week in the knees. It’s dark in the room but he knows it well, standing at the foot of your bed and reaching down to snatch an ankle and pull you a bit closer. You squeal as he does, making a jolt of joy go through him, grinning.
“How was your day?” he asks, lifting your foot to rest on his shoulder. He presses an innocent kiss to your ankle and he watches your brows furrow. “What?”
“Are you a foot person?”
“What if I was?”
You shrug a shoulder, watch him trail kisses down your calf. He nips the meat of your leg, an innocent bite but one that makes your leg twitch. “I’d say I’m surprised to learn something new about you after three years.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi lowers himself so that he’s on his knees, the carpet pressing into his slacks. The back of your knee fits perfectly over his shoulder, your leg resting along his back. You lean up on your elbows and look down at him, watching him settle between your legs. “Think you know everything about me, huh?”
Yoongi’s hands feel your warm skin. He marvels at the softness of your thighs, stroking his hands back and forth. Looking at you, he raises his brow in question. You’re too distracted by the feeling of his hands. It stirs something in him, and he cruves his fingers, dragging his blunt nails softly against your skin.
“Feels good,” you mumble, half-lidded. “I do know everything about you, Min Yoongi.”
“That so?”
“Yes. I could eat your heart if I wanted to.”
Yoongi’s stomach flips at how right you are, at how much you know it. Your confidence in his feelings never fails to make him feel like he is cut open and laid bare at your feet, waiting for you to step on him. To make him regret that vulnerability.
You never do. At every turn, you’ve shown him that you won’t take advantage. That you have no desire to use the fact that one of the most powerful men in the city is in the palm of your hand. Power for the taking. You could wield him like a weapon, he thinks, and yet you don’t. All you want from him is for him to speak freely, to kiss you often, and to hold you tightly.
So he does.
Yoongi presses kisses up the softness of your thighs. You drop from your elbows to lay flat on your back again, your breath catching. He watches raptly at the rise and fall of your chest as you gasp a little. He knows exactly what you like, reaching for your sleep shorts to pull them off slowly.
Tonight, he has nowhere else to go. Neither do you, letting him lean further up between your legs to press wet, open-mouthed kisses against your hips. You squirm a little, sensitive in the hip area. He loves it - would die for it - letting his tongue slip between his teeth to lave over your hot skin to soothe stinging flesh where he’s nipped you.
His hands are familiar with every dimple in your skin and every curve. He traces them as he pulls your shorts down, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear as he does. He throws them on the floor, hands settling on the inside of your knees as he presses you open, dropping his eyes to your wet folds.
Yoongi groans. You’re always so eager for him. That’s never been an illusion, the way your cunt drips slowly down to the curve of your ass at the most innocent of touches from him. It fuels Yoongi’s ego, knowing he has this effect on you. Knowing he’s the only one who can get you trembling in anticipation just by kissing the inside of your knees.
He made the mistake only once asking if you ever get off with your other clients. The flash of anger and irritation had never made him ask again, but you at least gave him an answer: no.
Thinking back on it now, Yoongi doesn’t know why he asked. He doesn’t care who you have before or between. All he cares about is being in the darkness of this room, your scent heady, his head shadowed between your legs.
Leaning forward, Yoongi drags the flat of his tongue up your cunt slowly. You let out a moan and he hums, closing his eyes. He’s been craving your sweet tang all day, the tip of his tongue lingering just under your clit before he drags around it, missing your bundle of nerves on purpose. You let out a sound but he grins, removing his tongue to return to tracing sloppy kisses on your legs instead.
Already lightheaded, he grounds himself by sliding his hands along the outside of your thighs, gripping you here and there as he lavishes you with attention. He knows he’s tired, but he at least wants this. Wants to taste you before bed, to have you melt in his mouth, fingers in his hair. He needs it.
Yoongi doesn’t dip into the drugs that his operation injects into the streets. He doesn’t need to. There’s nothing that makes him forget who and where he is the way you do. Nothing that amounts to feeling your soft skin beneath his palms, smelling the barest hint of sweat beneath your vanilla perfume.
When Yoongi gets a taste of you, it’s an instant high. He feels lost, hands skimming up your thighs to hold your hips to the bed. Your hands seek his, linking your fingers and pressing your joined hands to your hips as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh.
This is why he keeps coming back. The intimacy. The reassurance that this is something more than an accident that Yoongi stumbled on a few years ago. That this is more than the roll of bills he will leave on the nightstand tonight, even when you say not to.
There is nothing else he needs in these stolen moments with you.
“Yoongi,” you murmur, voice soft. He hums in response. “Please, I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Good,” he shoots back, biting your knee. You twitch and curse at him, making him laugh. Your glossy cunt is a sure sign that you’re not lying, though. Clit swollen, hole clenching. “Fuck, you have such a wet pussy.”
“Then put your fucking mouth on it, Yoongi.”
He laughs. “As you wish, Angel.”
A breathy whine in the shape of Yoongi’s name leaves your mouth when he starts to eat you out properly. He takes his time, eyes closed as he indulges, tongue rolling up and down your slick pussy. You turn liquid in his mouth, your hips canting as he flicks his tongue across your clit. You shiver in his hands and he grins, gently sucking your clit into his mouth.
“Yeah,” you pant. “Fuck, like that.”
Alternating between fastening his mouth on your pussy to suck gently and sliding his tongue into your hole, Yoongi goes with what he knows makes you a mess. Holds out his tongue and lets you fuck yourself against his face, your hand coming to grip his long hair.
The wet slide of you against his face makes him ache in his pants. He ignores it, determined to hold you still as he buries his face in deeper, picking up the firmness and pace of his mouth and tongue. He feels your essence drip down his chin and his neck. Hears the squelch when he thrusts his tongues into your pussy. Can’t get enough of the way your thighs close around his head, muffling the sound of you whining and saying his name.
Yoongi’s scalp stings when you pull his hair. He doesn’t care. He whips his head back and forth between your legs, tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. You’re shaking underneath him and he pushes you further, dipping low to slurp at your pussy bottom to top, not letting an ounce of you spill out.
“Holy fuck,” you squeak, voice high-pitched as you arch off the bed. He looks up at you, mouth attached. “Your fucking mouth.”
He grins, and leans into you further, pushes your thighs higher. Your legs bend easily under his weight. His hips are pressed against the foot of the bed now, hips rolling slightly, seeking for friction. His eyes close as he gets the barest bit of friction against his cock, more focused on making you come into his mouth than getting himself off.
When you come, your whole body goes taut. Yoongi holds you tight in his hands, mouth moving against you messily as he licks you through your orgasm. You dissolve in his mouth, making him hum against your heat. You twist in the sheets, body twitching, muscles flexing. He avoids your clit, thrusting his tongue into your entrance until you’re gasping for air, hands pressing against his head to get him to stop.
Yoongi removes his mouth with one, lascivious lick. He sits backwards on his feet, panting as he looks at you melt into the bed. Your limbs are lifeless and tangled in the blankets, your hand over your eyes as you catch your breath. You look fucking beautiful.
“Come here,” you rasp, voice rough.
The bed creaks under Yoongi’s weight. He walks over on his knees, drinking you in. Your cum slicks your thighs, shining in the barest shaft of light escaping the bathroom from a nightlight. You turn to face him, face balmy with sweat. You reach up and work the zipper on his pants, making his stomach flip.
“You don’t-”
“Shut up,” you growl, tugging the metal down hard. He smirks as you press your fingers into his hard shaft through the cotton of his briefs. “Wanna feel your cock in my throat. Can you fuck my mouth?”
“Fuck yeah, Angel.”
Yoongi nearly falls getting out of his pants. You laugh, the sound so sweet that he feels himself blush. He’s hot all over, coming alive in the darkness of your room as he strokes his cock. You look innocent, splayed on the bed and blinking up at him.
Precum drips from his dark tip and you open your mouth, tongue catching it. He curses under his breath, entranced by the way your tongue disappears between your lips. You hum, a glint in your eye as you smirk at him.
“Vixen,” he says, shaking his head.
“Give it to me.”
One day he thinks he’s going to die of loving you. He knows that this is what it is. It’s more than you opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for him. It’s more than him letting you suckle on the tip of his cock playfully, his eyes fluttering shut and his thigh muscles twitching.
Yoongi loves you. It is an incredibly simple fact in his over-complicated world. Among all of the shit and the moves and countermoves he deals with every day, coming here to simply be in love with you is a relief. A home.
A shiver crawls up his back as he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth is wet and warm, your tongue rough on the sensitive underside of his shaft. He keeps one hand on the base of his cock and the other on your jaw, keeping your mouth open to make the slide easier.
Everything fades away again. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath as you open up for him. When he touches the back of your throat, he’s careful at first. He knows you can take it. You’ve taken so much more from him, gone so much harder. He doesn’t want to go hard tonight though. He feels soft at the edges, your taste lingering in his mouth.
The wet sound of your throat convulsing around him making him stroke faster. He knows you’re okay, breathing heavily through your nose as you gurgle around him, spit and precum slicking his shaft as he pulls in and out, marveling at the way you look at him, eyes watering.
Your eyes fix on him. Yoongi clenches his teeth, trying not to burst in your mouth. It’s hard when you look at him like that, gaze so dark and hungry and fathomless. You’ve never said you love him. You don’t have to. He knows. He knows in the same way he is aware you know he loves you. He knows enough to trust you with him. With everything.
There’s not a single doubt with you. It is a rare gift to share this open trust with someone, especially in his position. It is an added bonus that you know he loves it when you swallow around his cock as he presses into the back of your throat. The tight heat of your throat constricting around him does him in, and Yoongi comes with a growl.
You take it in stride, gulping. Taking it down. His eyes roll back in his head and he thinks that if he didn’t love you already, this alone would make him fall in love.
Pulling out his softening cock, he falls backward on the bed. He’s still in the top half of his clothes, but he is exhausted, lashes fluttering. Your hands are delicate as you begin to pull the jacket from his body. He rolls to the side and lets you, lost in the daze of a much needed orgasm. He feels at ease now, more than he has all day.
“Come on,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the spot under his ear. “Take a quick shower while I change the sheets, they’re sweaty. And I came on them.”
“I’d sleep in them anyway.”
“Hmm, too bad. Shower.”
“Meh.”
“Yoongi, you smell like a whore.” That makes him crack an eye and look at you. Your gaze is pointed. “And not like me. I don’t like it.”
“Huh. So you are jealous.”
“Get in the shower.” Your mouth twitches as you try to fight a smile. “Or else.”
-
Getting up before the sun is your favorite thing. Even now, when you’re tired from being woken up in the middle of the night, you make an effort to crawl out of bed to make coffee. Your steps are heavy and you shiver in the freezing air of the kitchen as you open a drawer and pull out a coffee pod. You hold it up close to make sure you’ve got Yoongi’s favorite brand before sticking it in the machine and popping the lid down, punching the button to brew.
Yoongi is a sleeping mound in your bed. Leaning against the counter, you admire him from afar. He’ll be up soon, your body clock tuned to the hours of his operation. It’s been that way for over a year now, your circadian rhythm trained to be the most functional during the hours in which Yoongi is awake.
When you were younger, you would have hated to admit that. Would have detested the thought of ever adjusting a single part of yourself for a man. Your entire job was to be moldable. To put on whatever face your client needed, to shape yourself into whatever person that you needed to be.
You have been so many things. A wife. A mistress. A temptress. A lost loved one. And darker things still, sliding on the skin of client’s fantasies over-and-over again until you lost the substance that made up whoever you were for hours at a time.
Back then, it would take hours and days to regain who you were. It wasn’t until you were more advanced that you were able to separate who you are from who you pretended to be. Now, it’s not necessarily. There is no other, no mask. Just you and Yoongi, the single client you decided was worth being moldable for.
The smell of coffee wakes him up before his alarm. You watch him sit up in bed, eyes not yet open. His hand spreads to where he expects to find you, only to discover open space. He swivels back and forth then, looking for you. Maybe a little panicked.
A pang aches your heart. It is so easy to forget that even after years of getting up before him first, Yoongi will never be trained out of the instinct that something of his has been taken. The day he doesn’t worry is the day he’ll lose everything and you know it.
“I’m over here,” you call gently. He relaxes and pulls himself together before getting out of bed and trudging out of the room.
Yoongi is pretty in the morning. His face is swollen with sleep, making him look so much younger. Like a dumpling, even. His mouth is fixed in a pout as he rubs at his eyes, steps uneven and dark hair sticking up all over the place. He looks at you, eyes glassy. The faded pink scar over his eye is less intimidating in the morning. You grin and open your arms. His reaction is automatic, sliding between them and sinking into your embrace, head thudding to your shoulder.
“Hi,” you purr, your hands squeezing around his middle. His shirt is soft in your fingers as you play with the hem. He grunts back, not much of a morning person. You don’t mind. Instead, you let him lay his weight on you, unwilling to move even as the coffee finishes brewing. He smells like sage shampoo and something more unique to him. “You okay, sleepyhead?”
“Mhmm.”
“Can’t talk yet?” he shakes his head against you and you laugh. “Come on, coffee.”
With Yoongi latched on to you, you walk over to the coffee maker. You giggle, elated as he clings to your front, letting you move him backwards. With his butt pressed against the counter and arms wrapped around you, you lean around him to grab the steaming mug and bring it in front of him.
Pouting, he drops his hands from you and takes it.
Years of mornings and carefully pulling back layers of Yoongi has earned this rare silliness between you. You’re acutely aware of the fact that the sleepy man in front of you, no matter how soft and blushing he is in the mornings, is a murderer. He’s extorted people, has threatened them, sits at the top of drug trade, and has pushed people into political office with dirty money and blood. Your eyes linger on his scar, a memento of his violent youth.
You don’t care. It doesn’t matter what Yoongi is and is not. All that matters to you is that he is Yoongi and that he is yours. At least, yours in the way it matters. You don’t dare ask him for more than what you have. It is the one thing you’re afraid of, because even though you know that he loves you, that you know he trusts you, asking for more is something you don’t want to do. Too many people want more of him. You just want whatever you can have.
As he sips his coffee, careful not to let it spill over and burn you while you bury yourself in snuggling him, you close your eyes. A couple of years ago, you didn’t think a life like this was possible. Getting in at the Red was the first step in the right direction. Though still for sex workers, it was an upper level platform in the industry you clawed your way to.
Both of you are similar in that regard. Yoongi started from nothing. A poor boy who dropped out of school to work a job and help pay rent at his apartment, too uneducated with not enough resources to make a dent in the world. It was the same story for you, though perhaps a little bloody around the edges, a hand that started selling you before you could make the choice yourself.
At the thought of your mother, you feel your jaw clench. The bite of the memory is only soothed by the knowledge of Yoongi putting her down himself. Perhaps it makes you a monster, but you’ve accepted that long ago you were what the world crafted you to be, and you wouldn’t apologize.
If you were Yoongi’s shield, he was your sword. You protected him from the weight of his atrocities, and he slayed your monsters.
It’s what drew Yoongi to you in the first place, the unapologetic approach to life. You appreciate it in him too. He doesn’t try to pretend that he is more or less than what he is, and you never try to hide the ugly parts of yourself.
And here he is anyway, coffee-warm lips pressed against your forehead. It almost makes you ask for more, but you don’t. This is enough for now.
The room at the Red isn’t where you live, but it’s yours in everything except lease. You long stopped using it for its intended purposes, now pleased to use it as a neutral ground to meet Yoongi and to stay where you know he is safe. His sprawling estate under guard and gun is surely safe enough, but you like having Yoongi where you can see him.
After a mostly innocent shower together, Yoongi gets dressed and kisses you goodbye after you walk him down. It’s still dark outside when you swipe your security key. He puts on his biker helmet and gives you a little salute before jogging down the alleyway, splashing into the morning and vanishing around a corner.
You linger for a moment, watching the empty space where he vanished. It would be nicer to be somewhere you didn’t have to escort him out. Somewhere you could be together all the time. You don’t think Yoongi would say no if you invited him over to your apartment, but you don’t have the security and the heavy protection that the Red offers.
Collecting your things, you scribble a note for the cleaner before heading out. You’ll only return to the room if Yoongi intends on swinging by again. Though it is more than a suitable place to spend all your time, you like your small apartment tucked downtown above a coffee shop. It has a hominess that feels more like you. That is a little less sterile.
Sun cracks over the city, spilling light like yolk over the buildings. You shield your eyes as you make your way down the sidewalk, shafts of light falling between buildings. The subway is full of people heading to work. Everyone shuffles without speaking, some buttoning collars of uniforms while others close their eyes in seats, headphones snug over their head.
The lull of the train as it starts makes you drowsy, but you fight to stay awake. Now that you don’t spend hours sleeping in and recovering from servicing clients late into the night, you value your mornings. Want to be the kind of person whose business hours are during the day, to feel the sun on your skin.
At your stop, you disappear in the flow of people going up the steps. The concrete above is still wet from the rain the night before, your steps tapping wetly as you go. It’s still summer, but the wind in the shade is cool as you enter the parking garage of your building, heading toward the elevator.
It’s mostly empty, people having left for work already. There’s a single black SUV by the elevator that you don’t recognize, the windows too dark to see inside. As you approach the car, you realize that it’s on, idling quietly.
Years of living in the wrong part of town have you slowing your steps. Your eyes flicker to the plate to see a metal shield over it, hiding the numbers on the vehicle. The back of your neck tingles. You come to a full stop, staring at the running vehicle. No one makes a move to get out and there’s no indication that someone is inside.
While you don’t live in the luxurious part of town, your neighborhood is relatively safe. It’s not without instances, but you live deep into Yoongi’s territory, his foothold on this block strong. You’ve never had to worry about walking down the road by yourself at night or making it to your apartment when drunk.
Now, you’re worried. Instinct needles you sharply. There is no reason to think the SUV means you any harm, but something is screaming at you to walk away.
Then the elevator opens and a normal looking man and woman exit. They don’t pay you any mind as they get into the vehicle, shutting the back door. Your nerves ease and you laugh at yourself for being so ridiculous. There’s no reason for anyone to be doing something nefarious this early in the morning.
Shaking yourself out of it, you walk the rest of the way to the elevator. As you reach your hand to press the button to call the elevator car, you hear the sound of the car doors opening. You whip your head to look over your shoulder as men get out of the passenger seat and the back seat.
Instinct kicks in. You turn and run, screaming shrilly for anyone that can hear you. They take off after you, steps thundering against the pavement as the SUV squeals its tires to back out of the spot and peel after you. There’s nowhere to go but out into the street. You head for the sidewalk only to be snatched from behind and lifted off your feet.
You react immediately. You throw your elbow back, connecting to one of the men’s faces. He screams and you hear bones crunch. He drops you but your knees buckle, a mix of fear and lack of coordination making you fall to the ground. The other man is on top of you, pressing you into the ground as you scream savagely, kicking your limbs to wiggle out of his grip.
He grabs your hair and pulls. You yell out, eyes smarting from the sting in your scalp as he then shoves your face into the ground. It hurts. Pain blooms in the side of your face. You’re aware of tiny pieces of gravel digging into soft skin, cutting up your face. The sting is small in comparison to the throb that pulses through your cheekbone as he grinds your face into the pavement.
Screams echo in the garage as you’re yanked backwards. There are several hands on you, grip like iron. You snarl and yank your limbs to no avail. Just as you’re pulled into the interior of the car, a piece of cloth is slapped hard against your face. You gasp in surprise, a pungent smell filling your nose before you feel a swift fog take over, your mind fading until there is nothing left.
-
Pain. It’s the first thing you feel when you come to. It’s a slow sort of drift toward awareness, like sluggishly swimming to the surface of a deep lake. You manage to drag yourself there, but immediately want to sink back into the nothingness again once you feel how much you hurt.
Your face perhaps hurts the most. Not only does your skin burn, but it feels like you’ve been rocked with a cinderblock on the left side of your face. You dully recall having your head pressed into the concrete with near bone-breaking force. It explains why when you open your eyes, the left feels a little swollen.
The room you’re in is empty. Your shoulder muscles are on fire, hands tied behind your back in the chair you’re sitting in. It’s hard to pinpoint what hurts worse, body littered with bruises and injuries. Still, you’re alive and that has to count for something.
A man leans against the wall across from you. He watches you curiously. When you become aware of him, you straighten a little in the seat. Your ass tingles with the numbness of sitting there for who knows how long, and your biceps strain with the movement, making you hiss.
“I’d like to untie you,” the man offers. “But I need a guarantee that you’ll behave.”
You want out of the ropes, so you nod your head. He nods once and pushes off the wall, walking over to you. You use the nearness of his proximity to gather as many details as you can: Patek watch, a basic model. He smells like mandarin and something spicy like pepper - maybe an Arabian fragrance. The suit he’s in is well-tailored and when he pulls a knife out of his pocket to cut the ropes around your wrist, you see a mother-of-pearl handle.
Money. This man has money.
Relief makes you sigh, melting into the chair when the pressure in your shoulder blades releases. You immediately lift your hands and place them into your lap, rubbing your trembling fingers across your palms, pressing firmly to encourage blood flow. Your handles tingle as the circulation begins to return to normal, though you can’t make a fist or move all of your appendages immediately.
The man backs away and leans against the wall once more. He’s incredibly handsome, the kind of guy who might be an actor or in the movie industry, perhaps. You continue to assess him, placing him a few years older than yourself. His hands are linked in front of him. No marriage ring, no tan to indicate there was once a band there either.
The expensive cologne matched with the watch leads you to believe someone else picked them out, which leaves you with two options: a lover or a sales associate. Judging the make of the watch, you know it doesn’t look like a limited edition series, so not a very personal gift, if a gift at all. And while the cologne smells expensive, it’s too spicy for a day scent, indicating that he doesn’t have someone to tell him the difference between night and daytime colognes.
If you have to guess, they’re things he’s purchased himself on the advice of a sales associate or because of the amount of numbers on the price tag. It’s a habit that comes with new money.
“I apologize for the roughness,” he offers. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”
“Intent matters little. Results matter a lot.”
“Well said.”
Feeling starts to come back to your hands as you flex them. You’re in some sort of construction building. It looks like maybe an apartment building in the making, with plastic tarps covering the windows and metal scaffolding exposing unfinished concrete. Outside, you think you faintly hear the sound of docks and workers.
“Do you know where we are?”
You look him up and down. “We’re in a building. You’re against a wall, and I’m in a chair.”
He scoffs. “Smart mouth.”
“You asked a question.”
“So I did. We’re in a building that was supposed to be my next venture. Someone, however, got in the way and created a bunch of red tape with the city. Now my funding has been slashed and this building has been sitting unfinished for a year, draining me of my property taxes.”
“Well,” you deadpan. “I’m a whore, not a lender. I can’t get you a loan.”
He grins, but you can’t tell if he’s amused. “You’re not just any whore though, are you? I have on good authority you service high profile clients. One of your clients is the reason this building is stuck in paperwork, and now he wants to take even more from me. I can’t let that happen.”
Yoongi. He’s talking about Yoongi and you know it. You try not to squirm in your seat, meeting his dark eyes head on. Your mind is trying to make decisions and keep up as much as possible, funneling through the list of names Yoongi has mentioned, anything at all that can give you a leg up.
“High profile clients are where the money is,” you admit. You think perhaps this man is Kwan Daehyun, whom Yoongi has been playing chess with for the better part of a year. “I don’t like to sell information on my clients, but I suppose you know that since you kidnapped me.”
“Consider the sales price on this particular client’s information to be your life. I just need a little bit of information, and you’re free.”
You shrug. “You’ve got me there. What do you want to know?”
“Min Yoongi.” You continue to stare at him, giving away nothing. Your heart is racing in your chest and you try to keep your hands from shaking. When you continue not to answer, he clicks his tongue, annoyed. “What can you tell me about his weaknesses?”
You can’t help it, you laugh. Kwan frowns as you giggle. It hurts to laugh, face bursting with pain as you catch your breath and shake your head. “What a cheesy fucking questions. What, you think I just have a list of things that can hurt Min Yoongi?”
“I know how pillow talk goes. He must talk about his stress. Brag about his assets. What else do men go to whores for?”
“To get their cock sucked, usually.”
Kwan pushes off the wall and storms toward you. You sneer up at him, a little less afraid of him now. He appears small and gutless to you, kidnapping a sex worker to ask for pillow talk secrets to gain a fucking advantage. It means he has nothing on Yoongi and has resorted to pisspoor tactics to get anything usable against Yoongi.
Though how he managed to get to you is unsettling. You’re unsure how he made the connection, or how long he has been watching Yoongi. You find that to be the most irritating, to know that Yoongi has been under surveillance for any period of time. Not that you’ve been smacked around and put in an abandoned building on threat of murder.
“I will fucking kill you.”
There is truth in his words. Questioning you is a desperate attempt, but perhaps not his only. It occurs to you that he doesn’t thin you hold any value beyond questioning you, and though he’s said he’ll spare you life, you don’t think that’s true. He only sees you as a vacuum for information, and if you don’t have it or you give it to him, he’ll kill you.
You need to be valuable. And fast.
“Kill me and you ruin any chance of that deal with him.” Kwan hesitates, eyes darkening as the words spill out of your mouth, “In fact, that was probably already off the table as soon as you had me physically harmed and dragged into a car here. So now, you should stop asking me about what Yoongi’s weaknesses are and start asking, what will Min Yoongi do if you call him and tell him who you kidnapped and tied to a fucking chair.”
Kwan narrows his eyes. You see him assessing the weight of your words. You fight the urge to leap at him and reach for the folding knife in his pocket. Just because you can’t see a gun doesn’t mean there’s not one, and just because you can’t see or hear anyone else in the building doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
Outside you can hear the cry of a seagull. When you breathe in, you smell ocean water and salt. Definitely keeping you in a building by the docks. You think you know the one. Kwan takes a few steps back from you and crosses his arms over his chest.
“You think he gives a shit if I have you?”
“You asked for Yoongi’s weakness. You’re looking at it.”
“I think you’re bullshiting me. I think you’re a whore he won’t deal for.”
“One way to find out, right?”
Instead of answering, Kwan turns on his heel and walks towards the opaque tarp. He walks through it and two men replace him at the entrance. Both of them are armed, staring down at you. Ignoring them, you roll your neck in slow circles, trying to ease the soreness.
Tentatively, you reach a hand up to your face, pressing your fingers into your cheek. You hiss, the pain still raw and present underneath your fingers. You can feel small scabs from where the gravel broke skin, but thankfully it doesn’t feel like your eyes are too swollen.
Time passes. You remain in the chair, fidgeting now that you’re awake. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth and your lips begin to burn from wetting them constantly, only to be dried out by the salty air. You feel itchy and irritable, trying not to squirm too much in the chair lest you disturb the guards.
Most of all, without having to put on a brave performance, you feel afraid. Afraid of being here by yourself in this warehouse, afraid that you’ve made a mistake trying to make yourself valuable, afraid that Kwan isn’t going to give you a chance to talk to Yoongi as proof of life.
You’re not versed in this part of Yoongi’s life. So much of his business has been held separate from you. The violence and the extortion and the sketchy deals have always been something he did outside of that room at the Red. You’re not afraid of this life, though. Just unprepared and trying to guess what to do next, fueled by poorly written crime movies and stories that Yoongi has told you in the warmth of your bed.
It feels like hours have gone by when Kwan comes back into the room. You sit up straight when you see the phone in his hand and see the fire in his eyes. He looks like a man who has had something go right - which means you have him right where you want him, if he’s doing what you think he is.
Kwan holds out the phone to you. “You have five minutes to talk to him as an act of good faith on my proposal.”
You see Yoongi’s name on the caller idea and try not to start crying. Swallowing thickly, you lick your lips again and bring the phone up to your ear. The tremble in your hand and your voice isn’t a performance when you say, “Hello?”
“Where are you? He hasn’t told me.”
“Yeah, I’m alive.” You sniff a little. “Agh, don’t make me cry. My face will get saltier than it already is.”
“I need more than that, Angel. He’s trying to make deals with me, but I need to know where you are to come get you. He won’t tell me where you’re at unless I wire over money and legally sign over assets.”
“No, he hasn’t hurt me. He’s been polite, though I’ve been kind of a beach- bitch. I’ve been a bitch. Sorry, I’m very tired.”
“Is it the building in the warehouse district at the docks? That apartment shell?”
“Yes, I can do that. Just… please agree to whatever he says, I feel tired and loaded. Bloated. Sorry, I’m confusing words again.”
“Yeah, well I’ve got fucking guns too. We’re going to come get you okay?”
This time when you sniff, you feel actual tears. Of relief that he understands your weird turns of phrase, of the terror at knowing he’s going to have to come get you. To risk his life for you. You knew he would, and yet you almost hate to ask him.
“Thank you.”
“You’ll be okay, Angel, but I need you to listen.”
“Okay.”
His voice is firm as he says, “I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. Don’t think twice about it. It is you or them, do you understand me? There is almost a certainty you are going to have to kill someone when we come get you. Start thinking about it now. Try to get used to it so that when the time comes, you’re not afraid anymore.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“See you soon.”
-
Yoongi likes to think that he is an expert in control. His compartmentalization is unmatched, and though he is incredibly proud, his pride is not easily wounded. Foolish slights and insults don’t rile him the way they might have in his youth, and physical threats of harm are amusing, especially when no very few people carry through on their threat.
When Yoongi hangs up the phone, he loses every ounce of control he’s ever felt. Never has his urge to destroy been so sharp. He sees red, slamming his hands across his desk and swiping everything off. He tastes metal in his mouth as he bites through his cheek, screaming as he hammers his fists on top of the desk hard enough that he thinks he might split the wood.
Hoseok and Seokjin hear the commotion, crashing into the office with Namjoon and Jungkook behind them, weapons drawn. Yoongi is shaking when he looks up at them, the phone screen cracked in his hand. He cannot stop shaking, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like a dose of heroin.
All of their voices sound like a mess of sounds. The ringing in his ears overpowers everything they’re saying as he stands there, hands at his side, mind racing and chest heaving as he pants. Why is he panting? Yoongi feels like he’s suddenly not getting enough air, dropping his phone to loosen the tie around his neck, trying to give himself more room to breathe. Why do his clothes feel so fucking tight?
Suddenly it’s like there isn’t enough air in the room. Yoongi feels the tunnel vision come up on him fast. Chills spread through his body as he wavers, hands held out as he tries to catch his breath. He feels hands on him trying to steady him, but he yanks away from them. They feel too close, too much in his space and he needs more room. Room to get this blazer off and breathe. Breathe, why can’t he breathe?
Yoongi stumbles into a wall. His vision pulses on the edges and he can vaguely make out Hoseok’s voice. He looks up at him and sees his friend, his advisor. Hoseok isn’t touching him, but his head is cocked as he tries to keep and maintain eye contact with Yoongi.
“Inhale for seven seconds,” Hoseok says. “Then exhale for seven. I’ll count.”
“What?” Yoongi demands.
“You’re having an anxiety attack.” Hoseok states it as if it’s the most common thing in the world. “You have to regulate your breathing or you’re going to pass out. If you pass out, we can’t help.”
It’s the only thing that gets him to listen. He counts with Hoseok, drawing in long breaths.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
Yoongi has to shake this. Has to get ready and call his people, needs to make plans to come get you. He knows exactly where you are - wants to fucking kiss you for how clever you mange to be even while terrified.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
He knows you’re afraid. Yoongi has never heard your voice tremble like that since he’s known you. He knows every tone of your voice, every color to the spectrum of your sounds, able to pick them apart to know how you feel. And while you spoke in a clear tone, it was all wrong. Colored with terror. Voice soft and rough and wavering.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
The ringing in his ears fade. Yoongi continues to take slow, deep breaths. His hands are still shaking and he feels a little light headed, but when he blinks a few times and looks around, he sees his closest men and confidants standing around him, waiting.
“Talk to us,” Hoseok urges. “What’s going on?”
“Kwan has my girl. They’re in that apartment project we froze in the docks.”
“He told you where they were?”
“No, she did.”
Hoseok looks weary. “That sounds like a trap - did he already offer you a deal?”
“He said several things. He didn’t tell me where they were, she did.”
“In front of-”
“Hoseok, stop asking stupid questions or I swear to fucking god I’ll hit you first. She’s not used to any of this, but she isn’t fucking stupid. She used the words salt, beach and loaded. They’re in that building and they’re armed.”
“Poetic,” Seokjin grunts. Yoongi cuts his gaze to his head of security and the man pales. “Sorry, bad timing.”
“Get every fucking person we know on the fucking ground and here. We’re going to get her.”
“They’ll see us coming from a mile away.”
Yoongi stares at Seokjin. “I don’t give a fuck. Kwan wanted to find a weakness, well he found one. And now I’m going to paint that shitty little development with his blood.”
An hour later is when it hits Yoongi. He stops in the middle of tying a shoe and he stands. He’s replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, looking for any other details he could have missed. He was so fucking proud of you for getting your point across even while scared, but now it’s something else he thinks of.
I love you. He had almost not realized you said it at all at the end of the call. He can’t remember if he said it back, but he’s suddenly sick over the what if of it all. What if he doesn’t get to say it back? What if he gets there and swarms in, only to find you dead?
In a moment of panic, he texts Hoseok to request proof of life on the hour every hour from Kwan under the guise of considering his horrendous deal. Kwan, of course, thinks he’s got Yoongi. He doesn’t, naturally. They haven’t agreed on a time or place to meet, and Kwan does not seem to understand just how poorly he’s miscalculated.
None of it matters. All that matters is that Yoongi is going to come get you like he promised, and he is never letting you out of his sight again.
-
Surprisingly, your living conditions change a little upon Kwan learning that you’re more valuable kept alive and in decent condition than beat up or dead. He has a cot and a fan brought in, along with an ice back for your cheek and a thermos of water.
You crush the thermos almost immediately. Though you’re kept under armed guards now, you’re relieved to be able to lay down and stretch your sore limbs. When the ice pack finally grows hot and melts on your aching cheekbone, one of the guards gets you a new one without question.
It almost makes you feel bad for what is to come. Almost.
You know Yoongi. It’s why you gambled with a hostage play in the first place. He won’t let them have you and it doesn’t matter what Kwan offers him, Yoongi is far too powerful to accept deals from the likes of Kwan. It isn’t so much a matter of pride as it is a matter of power. You know Yoongi has the power to pull you out of this without further harm.
At least, you have put every ounce of trust and confidence in him that you have.
Time moves slowly. It’s hard to know how fast Yoongi will mobilize or what his plan is. It would make sense for him to perhaps cause a distraction elsewhere to get Kwan’s eyes off of you, but it’s also a dangerous game to play with a hostage.
It doesn’t matter. Yoongi has his job and you have yours, which is to work the screw out of one of the cots joints. You’ve picked one that isn’t imperative to the overall structure of the cot. It can bear your weight without the screw as long as you don’t lean on the joint too much. It takes you a while to unscrew it with your bare fingers, all while lying on your back trying to look uninterested in anything.
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.
Finally, you pull the cool metal free. You slide it into the pocket of your sweatpants. The weight of it feels better than nothing. It won’t do much damage, but a well placed punch to the face with the screw between your knuckles will do what you need, even if you damage your hand to do it.
You’ve never killed someone. Thought about it a few times, maybe. Had some people try to sway you to slip something into a client’s drink, but you never accepted. Killing isn’t your business. It’s Yoongi’s, but you know that if he’s telling you to take the chance, it’s because he wants you to live.
The thought is chilling. You rest your hand on the pocket, feeling the shape of the screw. You don’t know how to kill. You’re not even entirely sure that you have it in you. You’ve seen people die and you’ve seen people murder. It seems easy.
You’re not sure if it’s that simple.
It’s late into the night when a commotion draws you from your half-slumber. You lift your head as someone comes in and mutters something to the guards. They nod and one of them leaves, the other turning to face you with a glare, hand resting just inside his jacket where you assume there’s a gun.
Outside, you hear the sound of peeling tires as a car takes off.
Nerves take over. You feel your heartbeat pickup as you continue to lay on the cot, one hand under your pillow. It’s hard to think of what might be happening over the sound of your own pulse, but you try to regulate your breathing. There’s nothing happening right that second that you can control, so there’s no reason to panic.
A few minutes go by. It’s agony, waiting with bated breath. It’s quiet outside except for the sounds of the ocean and the mostly empty warehouses and docks. Plastic snaps in the breeze, loud in the silence of your waiting. You think that this is the worst part, the anticipation for what’s to come. You can’t sleep now even if you tried.
When the first round of gunfire comes, you almost lose control of your bowels. It’s a shameful sort of fear that takes you by surprise, making you freeze up. You have been waiting for it, and yet now that you can hear the sound of automatic weapons somewhere below, it feels worse than you imagined.
Looking up at the guard at the door, you reel in surprise to see him rushing toward you. Time seems to slow down. The sound of guns and yelling fade to the background everything suddenly becomes hyper focused.
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.
As the guard leans to pick you up, you strike like a snake, pulling the screw from your pocket and jabbing upward with a savage scream.
His guttural cry splits the night. You feel hot blood spray your hand and dot your face as you plunge the blunt screw into his eye socket. Blood makes your fingers slippery and as he falls onto his back, hands clutching his face, you lose your grip.
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.
No hesitation. You dive for him, stained hands searching for the weapon. The metal of the gun slides in your slick fingers. Through the blinding pain, the guard realizes what you’re doing and grabs your forearms. You pull back against him but can’t shake his grip, your hand stuck in his jacket on the gun. You finger the trigger and squeeze, but it doesn’t budge. The fucking safety.
Sliding a knee down, you crush the cap of your knee between his legs, pressing his balls with your full weight. He screams and his grip goes slack. You yank on the gun, almost dropping it as it slides free from the holster. Your grip is clumsy and shaking, your heart pounding so hard you think you might die of fright before you manage to find the safety on the hammer and pull it back.
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.
Click. Squeeze. Bang.
You don’t aim. Don’t have the sense to at that moment. This close, you don’t have to aim at all. You hit your target and his yelling turns to shrieks. You can’t tell where you’ve shot him, all you know is that you have. You scramble away, hands slipping on the floor, gun clutched clumsily in your hand.
A hand goes around your ankle and you scream as he drags you backward. You roll onto your back, bringing the gun up again, trying to aim in the general direction of his chest.
Squeeze. Bang.
It’s so loud. Your ears are ringing and you’re unable to hear anything as the grip on your ankle immediately goes slack. The guard goes limp, the fight leaving him immediately. You don’t look - can’t look. Can’t focus on anything but the way your vision tunnels.
Dizziness sweeps over you as you crawl away from him again. Your knees and palms might hurt if you could feel anything at all, but numbness starts to take over as you manage to press yourself against a wall near the doorway. You don’t dare move toward it, too untrained to handle a gun while terrified.
“Angel!” you hear Yoongi’s voice screaming somewhere in the building. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Your lips tremble. You try to find your voice, willing the words to come. Mouth open, his name on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find a response. “Angel, come on, baby! Where are you?”
“Yoongi,” you whisper. It’s not nearly loud enough and your voice cracks on the name. You close your eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath as you muster strength behind your voice. “Yoongi!”
“That’s it, keep talking to me.”
It sounds like he is yelling somewhere down a stairwell, voice echoing up concrete walls. “Up!” You start to curl into yourself. “Yoongi, up!”
Steps thunder in the stairwell. You drop the gun next to you and look at your hands. They’re slick and wet. In a panic, you start wiping them on your sweatpants, smearing red as you do. You viciously wipe your hands. You want the blood off, you don’t want it all over you, it’s hot and stick and it’s not yours and it belongs to the dead man who was trying to take you-
Warm hands grab your face and tilt you upward. You blink through blurry tears. Yoongi looks back at you, his forehead sweaty and his slicked back hair a little messy. He turns your face from side to side as more of his men flood into the room, guns raised.
Yoongi’s mouth moves but you can’t hear him. You shake your head, looking up at him. His grip softens and the gentle brush of his thumb back and forth across your face eases the rising panic inside of you. You sniff, taking a few slow, trembling breaths.
“Are you seriously injured?” Yoongi asks again, voice rough. Cracking. “Do you need medical attention?”
“No.”
“The blood-” You shake your head violently, closing your eyes. “Okay. It’s okay. You did what you needed to do, Angel. I’m going to get you on your feet and take you home, okay?”
“I don’t-”
“My home. Not yours. You’re coming home.”
Yoongi doesn’t need to explain what he means. As he slowly pulls you to your feet, you know what he’s telling you. You’re going to his estate, because it’s yours too now. The agreement is unspoken but mutual. You don’t want to go back to your apartment. You don’t want to go back to the Red. Right now, all you want is to wash the blood from your hands and get away from this place.
Seokjin is at the door with a blanket. He wraps it around you as Yoongi keeps his hands around your waist, steadying you as you walk. You get down two levels of stairs before he tucks you into him and presses his lips against your temple.
“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, mouth moving against your skin. “I won’t let you trip.”
You do as you’re told. His steps are confident and careful as he leads you through the bottom floor. You hear the murmur of voices, the flapping of plastic tarp, and the humming engines of vehicles. Yoongi lifts you lightly and helps you get into the cool interior of a car that smells like leather.
When the door shuts, you flinch and open your eyes, staring straight forward. Yoongi is next to you, arm going around your shoulders as he pulls you into his side again. You realize for the first time as you glance at him that there’s blood on his face and in his hair. His knee bounces up and down, his hand resting against it, still gripping a gun with the safety off.
“Are we safe?” you whisper, staring at his gun.
“Yes.”
“Then why-”
“It makes me feel better,” he admits. “I just need to come down.”
“Okay.”
“Look at me.”
You do. His eyes are dark and though his mouth is pinched at the corners and the vein throbs in his forehead, his eyes are soft for you. “I love you,” he murmurs. “We’re safe.”
-
A week makes the pain in your cheekbone fade away. A week does not make the memory of squeezing the trigger fade. At night, the memory is worse. What your mind had been unable to remember at first comes back in full-clarity at night, gripping you in your sleep and dragging you down into an endless terror until Yoongi pries you from the clutches of your nightmares and wakes you.
It’s easier with him by your side, though. You’re at least able to fall asleep, if not stay asleep through the night. When he wakes you from screaming and thrashing in the sheets, you’re able to settle against him, his hold on you firm. Comforting.
Yoongi takes this in stride. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t lose his patience. He simply murmurs that he gets it and holds you, his skin warm and smelling like home.
Home.
The estate is a sprawling mass of elegance that stuns you each day. Beyond the opulence of the home and the luxury that it offers, what matters most is the security. The personnel at every entrance, the high gate with cameras and alarms, the three lurking dobermans that still terrify you when you see them standing in a dark hall at night or watching you in the kitchen when you get a glass of water after a nightmare.
Nox has come around to liking you, at least. She’s become your shadow in the house, which had made you a little unsure at first. Now, she trails you up the stairs and to the master bedroom. You’ve grown used to her - prefer it, even, when Yoongi is not home like right now.
Erebus and Khonsu are on the floor of the master bedroom. Both watch you as you enter, unbothered but aware. Where their younger sister has adopted you as an owner and a thing to protect, they still seem set on Yoongi only.
The three dogs remain in the bedroom as you end the bathroom. It makes you feel safe to know that even if someone managed to get through the gates, up the driveway, through the secured doors and the dozen people that Yoongi has stationed at the estate since your kidnapping, the dogs are another line of defense.
So is the gun under the bathroom cabinet and in the nightstand, but you don’t want to touch a gun ever again. Not if the nightmares it gives are like this.
Steam fills the room accompanied by the scent of eucalyptus. Carefully, you peel the clothes from your body and toss them into a corner. The stone shower is warm with heated floors and a digital panel both inside and outside for control of the fifteen different water settings. There’s even steam options, but you simply turn on the rain feature, slipping under the dripping ceiling.
The hot, wet taps of the water lull you into a trance. You stand with your head tilted down, letting the rivulets of water run the full length of your body.
“Angel, I’m home,” Yoongi calls from the bedroom. You smile, appreciating that he announces his presence instead of sneaking up on you. He’s always careful to make noise when he enters rooms now and announces his arrival. “You just get in?”
“Yeah,” you call back. “Join me?”
“Give me five.”
When he finally enters the bathroom, you turn around to look at him. He’s already pulling the tie around his neck loose, dropping it to the ground. You catch sight of the red across his knuckles. Though he is free of blood - an effort on his part now to bring it home to you - you notice the days where he comes home and his knuckles are split or bruised, hands aching.
Watching Yoongi undress captures your full attention. His movements are slow and methodical. His back is to you, shirt dripping off his broad shoulders to join the tie on the floor. He looks up in the mirror and pauses, dark eyes catching yours. You raise a brow and gesture for him to continue. When he does, it’s with his tongue poking his cheek and a smirk.
Knowing that you’re watching, Yoongi turns it into an art. His fingers trace the top of his slacks before he slowly undoes the belt, pulling it with a satisfying hiss through the loops before holding it out to the side and letting it clatter to the floor. Your eyes are zeroed in on his reflection in the mirror as he works the button open, peeling the top of his pants apart to reveal the logo of his briefs.
Yoongi pauses. Your eyes dart up to his in the mirror to find him watching you, eyes dark. The scar looks menacing today. You squeeze your thighs together, chewing on your bottom lip. He notices, smirk growing as he rolls the slacks down his thighs and kicks them aside. You see the imprint of his half-hard cock in his briefs, your attention on him alone enough to get his blood pumping.
You’ll never get over having that effect on him. Knowing that even after the nightmares and becoming an inconvenience - in your eyes, at least - the chemistry between you isn’t gone. It’s still there, a burning candle.
Slowly, Yoongi peels off his briefs. His heavy cock bobs as he steps out of them and you feel your pussy clench around nothing, just thinking about him stretching you open. He says nothing about the small bead of precum at the tip as he turns and walks over to the shower.
He’s built beautifully. Broad shoulders with a slim, tapered waist. Strong arms and large hands, firm chest and soft but muscular stomach. Yoongi is the perfect blend of pretty and rugged, a combination that you didn’t know existed until him.
When he steps into the shower, you step further into the water, making room for him. He shuts the door and frowns at the distance between you, holding out his hand. You take it immediately and he pulls you forward, careful not to let you slip on the tile.
He doesn’t waste a moment. Yoongi’s mouth captures yours, wet from the shower water as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly. You hum, bringing your arms to loop around his neck, fingers combing through his wet hair. His cock presses against your lower stomach, and you shiver.
Yoongi’s kisses are addicting. Slow, like he has all the time in the world, but hungry, like he can’t get enough. His tongue brushes the roof of your mouth, his teeth pulling at your lip again when he pulls his mouth away to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw.
Tilting your head back, you let him pepper kisses along your throat. You close your eyes, letting him hold you to him. The room tilts as you sway in his arms, the feeling of him licking the hollow of your throat entrancing. It’s so simple yet it feels so good.
One arm loops around your waist to keep you pressed to Yoongi, his other slides up your wet skin to cup your breast. You let out a breathy moan when you feel his thumb circle your stiff nipple, the stimulation so bare but so good.
Yoongi keeps you cradled against him, mouth working your neck and shoulder and back up to your mouth while his thumb lazily plays with your nipple. You're pliant in his arms, letting him do whatever he wants with you.
His mouth starts to descend and when he finally takes your nipple into his mouth, you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. He hums as he sucks gently, tongue flicking back and forth over the peak. You can’t help but twitch in his arms, a ripple of pleasure sliding through you.
Heat pulses between your legs and you feel the slick gathering in your folds. Your legs squeeze together again as Yoongi drags his teeth over your sensitive nipple before letting go and switching to the other. This time, he looks up at you through dark, wet lashes, sticking out his devilish tongue as he uses the tip to trace your skin.
“Show off,” you mutter, voice shaking.
He laughs and runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple before giving a sharp suck that has you arching into him. “You love having your tits in my mouth,” he shoots back. He bites the top of your breast softly, teeth scraping your soft skin. “Don’t deny it.”
“I plead the fifth.”
“Hmmm.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he teases. The hand around your back slides down to your ass. He grabs a handful, squeezing generously. “Can you turn around for me? Legs spread so I can see that pretty pussy.”
“Fuck.”
He drops his arms so you can turn around. You press your palms against the wall, shivering as the cold tile leeches the warmth from you. The temperature difference makes the room tilt. You slide your legs apart and stick your ass out toward him, lifting a little.
“Fuck yeah.”
You can’t see him, but you feel him as he slides down to his knees. His palms grip your ass, spreading your cheeks open. You close your eyes and let your head hang between your arms when it feels too heavy to hold up yourself.
“Just want a quick taste,” Yoongi mutters.
“Shiiiit,” you hiss, feeling his tongue dance up and down your cunt. He licks you in broad, slow stripes before he puts his entire mouth on you and sucks sharply. “Just like that.”
“Fuck.” The smack of his lips against your wet heat are bracketed by the slick sound of him stroking his cock, the filthy sounds echoing in the shower. “I could eat you out every day.”
“You do.”
“Fine.” His tongue zigzags back and forth, reaching to swirl around your click. He kisses your cunt and stands up. “I’ll make it twice a day, then.”
The blunt head of his cock slides between your folds. You press back toward him, eager to have him push in and split you open. He tuts at you, giving you a gentle smack on your ass. “Eager.”
“I’ve been waiting all fucking day for it, Yoongi. Give it to me.”
“Mmm.”
The feeling of Yoongi sinking his cock into you slowly drives you mad. You feel like you can’t breathe, every inch of his thick length stretching your walls to the max. It feels like he’s in your guts when he bottoms out, the pressure immense and good and dizzying.
He starts slow, giving a few shallow thrusts as you adjust to be pried open. You relax around him, falling into the pleasure as he begins to fuck you in earnest. Hands on your waist, he pulls your ass backwards, meeting every one of his strokes in a loud, wet smack of hips on ass.
A shiver ripples down your spine and you moan when he adjusts the angle, prodding your g-spot. “Yeah?” he asks through gritted teeth. “That the spot?”
“Yes, please fuck me just like that.”
Nothing else exists beyond this. The steam makes your skin even hotter, cloying the air and making it hard to breathe. It makes everything fuzzy, like you’re drifting in and out of reality, pleasure unfolding in you as you squeeze around his cock.
Each snap of his hips is punctuated with stilted breath. You’re gasping, thighs burning as you take every inch of him, fingers curling against the wall, eyes rolling back as you fall into a mute space. You make sound but no words come out, the pressure against that spot inside of you driving you mad.
Yoongi slides a hand from your waist over the curve of your ass and between your cheeks, thumb pressing gently on the rim of your ass. You let out a loud moan, fingers trying to grab the wall to no avail. The new stimulation feels delicious, Yoongi’s thumb pressing against your asshole in time with his strokes. He doesn’t push past the ring of muscles, but it doesn’t matter - it’s enough to send you careening closer to your orgasm, toeing the line of insanity.
“Fuck, Angel,” he pants, fucking into you harder. “Just like that, make it fucking creamy. You gonna come?”
“Fuuuuck yeah.”
His thumb presses harder against your rim. “Come on, give it to me.”
“Shit shit shit shit.”
You lose the ability to say anything. Your body folds forward, only held up by Yoongi and the press of the freezing cold wall as he fucks you with precision. It sends you over the edge, your knees knocking as you come, fists pressing into the wall as you yell through it.
The sound of the shower is drowned out by your babbling. Yoongi thrusts hard a few more times, hand slipping away from your ass to grip your waist hard, chasing his high. He comes with a loud curse, fingers digging into your skin.
For a moment, he leans into you, pressing his cock as far in as he can go. Your pussy throbs around him, every pulse ebbing around him. He presses kisses up your spine, hands sliding up your ribs to pull you upright until your back is against his chest.
“Fuck,” he pants, voice rough. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”
“I’ve always been yours.”
“I mean entirely. Without sharing.”
You pause, looking up at him with a frown. “You know I haven’t been… taking clients for two years, right?”
He pauses. “What?”
“You stupid boy,” you laugh, laying your head against his shoulder. “Of course I wasn’t. I just wanted you.”
“Then why stay there?”
You shrug a shoulder, letting your eyes fall closed. The warmth of the orgasm blooms through you, Yoongi’s skin hot against your back and the shower hotter still. “It was a place I knew you’d be safe when you visited. And I didn’t want to ask you for more. Everyone always wants more from you. I just wanted you.”
“All that time, I could have just… asked you to come home?”
“Yes. But it’s okay. I’m home now.”
He kisses your neck. “You are home, Angel.”
#yoongi smut#suga smut#min yoongi smut#bts smut#yoongi fic#yoongi fanfic#suga fic#suga fanfic#bts fanfic#bts fic#yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#mafia yoongi#mafia bts#minors dni#minors do not interact#halis happy agust
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A little show
Pairing: Min Yoongi x f!reader
Genre: uni au, pure smut with a dash of plot, some fluff, strangers to lovers
Word count: 9.6k
Summary: Who knew that getting off in the uni bathroom to get away from the world's most boring lecture could lead to getting absolutely railed by a cute postgrad student... but third time's the charm, right?
Warnings: slight exhibitionism, masturbation in a public bathroom, sex in a public bathroom (for once they're even using condoms lol), yoongi is a little shit but he'll rock your world, dirty talk, slight choking kink, dom-ish yoongi, who am i kidding he's a fucking beast, fingering, backshots, rough sex, some begging, biting and marking, they literally don't talk to each once before fucking
A/N: oof this was totally unplanned but i cannot be held responsible for anything after seeing the d-day concert movie, this is all yoongi's fault. also it ends surprisingly fluffy for the filth that's contained within
credit for the divider to @saradika-graphics, thank you so much <3
I blinked rapidly, trying to keep myself awake while the lecturer droned on, his nervous slightly stuttering voice carrying through the classroom and lulling everyone into a half-asleep haze. Every Tuesday I had to sit through 90 minutes of this man stumbling through every topic, trying to connect with the classroom full of people while anxiously stepping around the whiteboard projecting his presentation.
I was fully understanding, this was his first year teaching and he still hasn’t shaken off the stage fright, but that didn’t stop me from wishing I had never enrolled into this class and rather spent the time doing literally anything else. It didn’t help that it was an afternoon lecture, dragging on until 5PM, which was usually the time I was already completely fried.
I looked around, noting the other students similarly fighting off sleep or browsing internet on their notebooks, some valiantly still trying to keep their attention on the lecturer and failing miserably. I watched the girl in the row in front of me order a cute sweater, deliberating between two colours for about ten minutes before choosing strawberry pink. I approved.
My body was screaming from being bent over the desk in my boredom, back bent so crooked when I straightened out it cracked vertebra after vertebra like a xylophone from nightmares. I sighed, squirmed around, checked the time. Only 5 minutes have passed since I last looked. I barely suppressed a groan. I couldn’t sit still for longer than a minute, leaning back then pressing forward, folding and unfolding my legs, just trying to find a comfortable position to spend the next 40 minutes in and failing.
After 5 more minutes I reached a boiling point, playing with the thought of just booking it halfway through, but instead my unoccupied brain started entertaining itself by slipping into a territory that it deemed more fun. I started thinking about what I’d rather be doing, where I’d rather be, flushing slightly from embarrassment but surrendering to these thoughts as they presented at least some form of entertainment.
I made it barely 10 minutes before I was so painfully wet and aroused I definitely couldn’t make it through the lecture anymore. I had to do something about it, now.
I wasn’t shy about the fact that I occasionally enjoyed wanking in some more public spaces like bathrooms, the thrill of someone possibly coming in and having to keep quiet was getting to me. I didn’t indulge in it often, just when I got really bored and my brain immediately went to “let’s get off to entertain ourselves” instead of doing something normal like other people, just when I was sure there was only a slight chance of someone actually coming across me.
But thinking all that, I realised I’d never taken such liberty while I was in the uni building, probably just thinking about getting out of there as quickly as possible, but fuck, this lecture was getting to me. Somehow it felt more morally wrong than some other random ass places, but I deliberated on it. We were in a secluded corner of the building, it was really high and there was no elevator, the classrooms were smaller and above there was construction going on, which resulted in this place usually being totally deserted except for those unlucky souls that still had lectures here. I was pretty sure there was no other class going on here right now and the chance of someone from here going to the bathroom at the same time was slim.
On a whim I decided to take the risk, my body heating up knowing I was about to give in to the need. I quickly stood up, grabbed my phone and made my way outside. The hall was empty except for a single guy sitting by a table directly across from the bathroom door, but I figured it would be fine. He was wearing headphones anyway, head bobbing to a beat I couldn’t hear and fingers nimbly clicking something on his laptop and toying with the mouse. I slipped past him quietly and went straight for the bathroom door.
Inside was quiet, as if cut off from the outside world, the only two toilets both empty and door wide open. I went to the further one, not that it made much difference with how small the room was, but it still made me feel a little better.
With the door closed and locked for better feeling of security, the excitement finally got the better of me and I rushed to stick my hand into my skirt to pull down my tights and panties, fingers immediately finding the slick folds.
I bent over, the stall small enough to allow me to lean on my elbow on one wall while my ass pressed into the other, fingers going straight for my clit and wasting no time in pressing on it and circling it desperately. Quiet sighs of pleasure spilled from my lips, body trembling with pleasure heightened by the fact I was in a public space.
I barely even touched myself and I could already feel how fucked out I was getting, knees shaking and the pleasure mounting dangerously fast. In my mind I imagined myself bent over the toilet and a warm presence behind me, getting fucked good, strong hands gripping my waist hard, pulling me back on the cock like a toy while telling me to shut up, laughing at me while I bit my fist trying not to let the whole university know how good I was feeling.
My orgasm was approaching embarrassingly quickly, the pad of my finger furiously toying with my clit while my knees were shaking with the mounting pressure waiting to snap. I was so wet I felt my juices dripping down my thighs, dripping onto my hand and making my finger slip all the time as I tried to get myself to cum as fast as possible.
That didn’t seem to be that hard as I could already feel myself hurling towards the edge, cunt spasming around nothing, desperately wishing to be filled, as my ass pressed harder into the wall and my back arched. I could feel a little cramp starting up in my wrist, but I didn’t let up, keeping the pace on my clit as I felt the start of an intense orgasm, the sensation bursting through me like a tornado and I let out a moan muffled into the crook of my elbow. My knees buckled with the force of it and thank god that I was still leaning on the wall otherwise I would have for sure fallen down.
My whole body relaxed, thighs and knees still shaking as I tried to get my breathing back under control. The bathroom was suddenly eerily quiet now that there wasn’t blood rushing through my ears and I wasn’t blinded by my own ecstasy, and I flushed in embarrassment but still couldn’t stop myself from a little joyful giggle leaving my lips in breathless wonder.
I took my time getting myself back into order, cleaning myself up and righting my clothes again. I was in there for only about 15 minutes, so there was no reason to rush. I did notice that my legs had a little boneless swagger to them as I suddenly went from high strung in boredom to perhaps a little too relaxed, a stupid little grin pulling at my lips as I swayed my hips leisurely.
But that changed the moment I walked back out onto the hall. The second I was out of the bathroom I immediately found myself in direct eye contact with the sole student sitting out there. I only had a second to note he was very attractive before I realised he was watching me with the air of amusement, eyes darkening and a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned back and gave me a once over.
I flushed under his heavy gaze, freezing like a deer in headlights. It was obvious he knew what I’d been doing in there, something in my demeanour must have given me away. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his eyes lingering on my hands clutched together before amused grin set onto his face.
I broke out from the daze suddenly and set into motion again, escaping his hungry eyes and entertained aura, hurriedly scurrying back into the classroom where I sat stewing in my own shame for the rest of the lecture.
When I walked back out after we were dismissed, the hall was empty, to my great relief.
“Come on, you should come tomorrow at least for a little bit,” Jungkook whined, pouting at me and hands tugging at the sleeve of my shirt. I gave him an unimpressed look, firmly resistant to his charms, which probably made me the only person in the world that was capable of that.
“I told you Kookie, I’m not feeling it this week,” I said for the fifteenth time that day, “Maybe next time.” The dance major cutely stomped his foot and tugged on my sleeve again. His wild hair flailed around with the wind, probably getting into his eyes, but he ignored it in favour of annoying me.
“But the next party won’t be for god knows how long,” he whined, giving me his ultimate puppy eyes and blinking cutely, “Come on Y/N, you need to let go a little.” Now, I would lie if I wasn’t swayed a little bit, but the exhaustion was weighing on me and I was looking forward to just having a quiet evening in ignoring all of my responsibilities and pretending I have no essays due and there aren’t any deadlines I was missing.
“I’m sorry Kook,” I softened my tone a little to convey I truly was apologetic, smiling at him gently, “I promise I will definitely go to the next party.” The man brightened and straightened out, letting go of me and setting out on the sidewalk leading out of the campus.
“I have your word! No takebacks!” he shouted excitedly and I ran after him laughing. I knew he wouldn’t let me forget it, so I just resigned myself to going to the next party even though I quite disliked them. I had nothing against partying, but I just preferred to go clubbing and dancing, not spend my evening sitting on a stained couch in someone’s living room listening to total strangers get zoinked out of their minds and talk about assignments. But I would go for Kookie. Just once though.
We walked side by side for a moment, just enjoying the awakening spring. It was still pretty cold outside, but the sun shone more often and the temperatures were enough to wear just a light jacket instead of coats with shawls, so I soaked in the atmosphere. People were beginning to filter outside, sitting around on the green grass, talking and studying, and it was nice to see.
Looking around I suddenly froze, standing still in the middle of the path while Kook continued for a few more strides before he realised I wasn’t following. He gave me a confused look, but I was already fighting an embarrassed blush and didn’t pay him much mind.
On the grass by a big tree was quite a familiar looking student, his long wavy dark hair similarly pushed around by the wind as he bobbed his head to music presumably playing in his headphones. He was wearing all black, standing out as a sore thumb in contrast with the green lit up by sun, but he was fully engrossed in his laptop and paid no attention to anything going on around him.
“Hey Kookie,” I called out to my friend, finally looking at him, “Do you know who that guy is?” I discreetly pointed in the man’s direction, hoping I wouldn’t draw anybody’s attention by being a fucking weirdo. Jungkook was a social butterfly despite his shyness and he seemed to know half the university (probably a side effect of hanging out with Jimin all the time), even people from majors that had nothing in common with his, so I was pretty confident he would be able to correctly identify the menace of my life.
“Who?” he started confusedly looking around, eyes jumping around the students just living their lives. I tried pointing again, hoping he would see where I meant without having to outstretch my arm fully. “There, that guy in the black sitting under that tree.”
Jungkook’s eyes finally locked onto his figure and a recognition immediately lit up his face. I chuckled. Of course he did know him.
“Oh sure!” he exclaimed, “that’s Yoongi hyung. He’s a little bit university famous.” I looked at him in shock and then glanced back to the expressionless man sitting on the lawn.
“Famous? Famous how?” I pressed for more info, this time it was me who way playing up the cute act, hanging onto Jungkook’s arm and batting my eyelashes at him. He gave me an amused smile, seeing right through me.
“Well, he’s handsome and yet cool and mysterious, girls love that shit,” Kook played it up, flipping his hair sassily and fluttering his lashes, making me scoff at him amusedly, “Plus he’s a rapper and sometimes performs in the local clubs and bars, so he’s pretty popular.” I turned us away from the black-clad student who was still unaware of anything going on around him and pulled us back onto the path.
“I see,” I hummed noncommittally, not giving him any indication of why I would suddenly ask about Yoongi, but based on the amused looks Kookie was giving me, he must have had an inkling why the sudden interest.
“He’s actually in the same year as Joonie hyung, they’re interning together at the same studio,” Jungkook continued, keeping his eyes on me to gauge my reaction. I hummed again, not saying anything anymore and just sending him teasing looks.
“If you come to the party tomorrow, Yoongi’s for sure gonna be there,” Kookie mentioned seemingly casually, watching me out of the corner of his eyes as he pretended he didn’t care mischievously.
I only shot him a glare and pulled on his arm, leading us out of the campus towards the café where we were supposed to meet Jimin and Tae, Kookie’s friends who graciously adopted me into the group after I got befriended by the shy giant.
For the rest of the afternoon I could feel Jungkook’s eyes on me, his lips pulled into a barely concealed smile as he fought the impulse to tease me in front of the boys about what he must have thought was an embarrassing crush on the school’s resident heartthrob. I ostentatiously ignored him, only shooting him warning glares here and there to which he always responded with shit-eating grins. Jimin and Tae kept giving us confused and entertained glances but ultimately decided against asking what was going on, much to my relief.
God, if they only knew the truth about why Yoongi even was on my radar in the first place.
The next Tuesday I walked into the classroom again, fully determined to sit through the whole lecture and not move even an inch from my seat. This time I chose a chair in the back, where I could comfortably be on my phone and distract myself from the thoughts of last week, from the attractive man and his smirks. I wondered whether he was sitting there again today, listening to what I now assumed was his own music, laid-back and effortlessly hot. I began to squirm in my seat again, but I quickly tempered it down, scolding myself gently for having such a one-track mind.
Once again I made it through an hour and with 30 minutes left, I began to face a crisis. The boredom was getting to me and I needed to use the toilet, my bladder screaming for help and making me shift around on my chair in discomfort. I thought that I couldn’t really face the bathroom without getting extremely embarrassed, but in the end I lost the battle to nature and got up.
Only, stepping onto the hall, I looked up and lo and behold, there he was – Yoongi sitting peacefully by the window and clicking away on his computer, his big black headphones firmly on as always. The movement by the door must have registered at the corner of his field of vision and he eagerly looked up.
The moment his eyes laid on my figure, frozen once again in the hallway and heating up under his stare, he smirked widely like he won the lottery, leaning back and making himself comfortable on the chair. With his gaze following my every movement I hurried into the bathroom, cheeks blushing and knees turning into jelly.
On instinct I went to the furthest stall and locked the door behind me shakily. Having taken care of my business I paced the stall nervously, already feeling myself bend under the tension. I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, knowing Yoongi was sitting outside fully aware of the nature of my little trip last week, but his demeanour, the winning smirk and dark eyes made me want to break that promise.
Embarrassingly enough, I could already feel myself getting wet again and I begun to lose the conviction to just walk away and go sit back into the classroom for another terrible 30 minutes. The thoughts of Yoongi waiting in the hallway, hungrily watching the bathroom door and thinking about me with my hand up my skirt were getting to me and I finally broke.
Swiftly pulling down my tights and underwear I didn’t waste anymore time in sticking my fingers between my folds, gathering the wetness and rubbing the swollen bud begging for attention. I couldn’t hold back the little sighs and moans of pleasure, my body hyper-sensitive and the lust coursing through my body more intense than I could remember ever feeling.
It didn’t take long before I was choking on the moans I desperately tried to stifle on my arm, knees shaking and close to buckling and pussy clenching on nothing, feeling so empty and so desperate for anything I was losing my mind.
And if I was deliriously cumming on my fingers only a moment later while imagining Yoongi fucking me roughly in the uni bathroom, that was only my business.
With trembling fingers I quickly cleaned myself up, blushing when I realised I was so wet the whole top of my thighs was covered in my sticky juices. Putting myself back together I rushed to scrub my hands clean and soon I was standing behind the door, taking a few deep breaths but the excitement still getting the better of me and I eagerly walked out, expectantly looking for Yoongi’s reaction with a little sly smile on my face.
And I was not disappointed.
The second I stepped out, his head snapped in my direction, confirming that he really was waiting for me to come out. His cheeks were also lightly dusted with pink from excitement, his eyes as dark as midnight with his pupils blown wide with lust. He immediately licked his lips, eyes raking over my form and taking in the shaky knees and trembling hips, the blush on my face, both from recovering from an orgasm and shyness, hair a mess and lips bitten red.
Yoongi suddenly stood up and I realised that he packed up his laptop and headphones, all his stuff probably stuffed into his neat backpack that hung off of his shoulder. He side-stepped from the table and leisurely made his way towards me, black dress pants nicely hugging his form, white tee tucked into them accentuating his slim waist and a thick black oversized shirt hanging off him in a way that made me slightly feral.
But there was something else he wanted me to see, and I clocked it as soon as he got close enough, cheeks absolutely blazing red and my pussy valiantly clenching again even after such an orgasm.
He was hard. When my eyes slid down again to appreciate how the pants fit him so perfectly they landed on an unmistakable bulge, the front of his pants tenting in a tell-tale sign of how much he enjoyed my little show. I gasped and suddenly all confidence sapped from my body and I was left aroused and aching, willing to do anything. He watched me with a mix of condescension and arousal, knowing how easily he won over me and loving how receptive I was to just a light teasing, how the blush spread down to my collarbones and my mouth opened subconsciously, eyes glazing over and brain no doubt filled only with the thoughts of his cock.
But with an arrogant smirk he passed right by me, heading for the door of the men’s bathroom. Only when he was halfway through the door, he threw me a look over his shoulder, winking at me and his grin turned wild and rough. Then he disappeared inside.
I was left in the hall gasping for air, body ravaged by tension and lust and head full of images of Yoongi standing in the bathroom stall and hurriedly yanking at his cock, the red tip wet with pre-cum, the liquid getting smeared all over his length by his eager hands trying to get himself to completion as fast as possible. I imagined him grunting, head thrown back and mouth open but still curled into that annoying smirk.
A door opened somewhere a little down the hall and a mess of voices flowed out, startling me out of my reverie and I realised I had been just standing in the middle of an empty hallway staring dumbly at the bathroom door. I felt the bashfulness catch up to me and it sprung me into movement. With one last look at the door I scurried back into the class and spent the last 15 minutes staring into the wall with flaming red cheeks.
When I walked out after the class ended, Yoongi was back to his place, sitting completely relaxed into his chair and grinning lazily when his eyes caught mine. I felt my whole body jerk with a bolt of lust, but I ducked my head and quickly ran down the stairs, rushing out of the building and towards the café where the boys were already waiting for me. Jungkook stared at my flustered face with an unreadable expression, and I let him think whatever he wanted, too preoccupied with fighting the image of Yoongi cumming all over himself just twenty minutes ago thinking of me masturbating just a wall over.
Later that week, after many orgasms, much deliberating and a whole lot of shame I decided I needed to hear his voice. I kept thinking back to how Jungkook mentioned he was in the same year and major as Namjoon and that he was a performing rapper, and I knew Namjoon put his stuff online. And if Yoongi really was a known name in the bar scene around the area, he must have too.
Asking Jungkook about his stage name would be too humiliating, so instead I decided to rake through Namjoon’s insta because he must have his friend’s account there somewhere, hoping Yoongi would forgive me a little social media stalking. Firstly I scrolled through Namjoon’s posted pictures, but he rarely tagged other people. Most of his pictures were of artworks or Joonie doing something silly and living his best life.
So I switched to the pictures that others tagged you in. It took a while, but I was able to see that most of them were from this guy Hoseok that I had seen around but haven’t really spoken to. I knew he was a double major because he did dance like Jungkook and Jimin, but I had never realised he was also in the same major and year as Namjoon. He seemed to post a lot from the studio, often with Joon hunched over his computer in the background, but after some digging I was able to find one that had them all in it.
It was also from the studio, it must have been the one the boys were interning in, presumably all of them together. Hoseok’s face was grinning in one corner as he was taking the selfie and even though it was dark, you could clearly see two men sitting at a table together and discussing something with serious looks on their faces. A laptop sat between them and one of them had his hand lying on the pause button. It was Yoongi and Joon. Only their side-profile could be seen in the photo, but it was unmistakably them. The description only said “hyung is scolding joonie again” but tapping on the photo it showed that both of them had been tagged. Bingo.
Yoongi’s account was full of mostly dark pictures, some from the same studio and some were of him on stage mid performance, but there weren’t as many as Namjoon and Hoseok had on theirs. I scanned some of them quickly, but even though he looked super hot and the photos were extremely well done, it wasn’t the reason of my searching.
I checked the name of the account again – it was Agust D. And there was a link in the bio. Without thinking I clicked it and was transported to Spotify, Yoongi’s entire career laid out clearly in front of my eyes in the form of three albums.
I spent the evening listening to them, letting his music wash over me and losing myself in the beat and the lyrics. No matter what I was looking for when I wanted to listen to it, I got everything and more. I suddenly understood all those star-struck students that according to Kookie trailed hopelessly after Yoongi, the man had a real talent and an aura that just sucked you right in, like a fly getting trapped in a very smug spider’s web.
His voice was surprisingly lower and rougher than I anticipated, the songs had no shortage of him growling or screaming, emotions pouring off of his voice in waves that just swept me along.
And I couldn’t wait to find out what he sounded like when he was getting his rocks off.
The next Tuesday I climbed those 4 floors of stairs confidently, wearing a short skirt and cute heels, gingerly picking a spot in the class that would allow me to slink off in the middle of the lecture again. Yoongi wasn’t sitting in the hallway yet, but I believed he’d show up soon enough.
The anticipation was coursing through my veins, making me jittery and giggly. From the corner of my eye I could see a classmate giving me a strange look, mouthing at me if I was okay and I nodded hurriedly, giving her a smile, hoping she wouldn’t pay any attention to me when I had to leave.
If the two lectures before were unbearable, this one took the cake. I could barely contain myself, squirming in my seat, trying to make myself comfortable while I checked the time every 2 minutes, wishing half the lecture had already gone by and always getting disappointed at how early it still was.
My mind was going into overdrive, feeding me ideas and fantasies, replaying last week’s encounter on loop. I couldn’t see anything except for Yoongi’s lopsided smirk planted firmly on his face as he made his way into the bathroom to jerk off, his face as he came thinking of me.
The minutes ticked by slowly, and I was absolutely losing my mind, thighs pressing together and hands tangled into the fabric of my skirt, bunching up the material. I made it 40 minutes before I grabbed my phone and sneaked out onto the hall.
Yoongi’s head shot up immediately, already sitting by the window waiting for something. This time I didn’t freeze up, instead I was the one who smirked at him and confidently walked up straight to the bathroom. He watched me raptly, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he leaned forward on the table. Couldn’t help but notice that today he didn’t have his laptop out, he just sat there and watched me, but I moved forward not giving it much thought.
I raised my eyebrow at him and winked right as I disappeared into the bathroom, the door falling shut behind me and sealing me inside in the calm and quietness. I rushed to the furthest stall, shutting the door behind me but not bothering to lock, too horny to think clearly.
I couldn’t believe this was getting to me so much, but the moment I managed to slide my tights low enough and ran my hand through my folds, I was already so wet it was astonishing. I laughed at myself in disbelief as my finger found my clit and circled it. Who would have thought this would become my weekly routine, jerking off in the bathroom while a guy I’ve never even talked to sat outside smirking.
But not today it turned out.
Just as pleasure began coursing through me at the ministrations, pleasured sighs leaving me freely as I got cocky not getting caught until now and the squelching of my wet pussy getting played with rang through the quiet space. Then, I heard the door open.
Immediately I froze, hand stopping but still stuck between my thighs. Slow silent footsteps made their way towards the stalls and I hoped whoever this person was, they would take care of their business quickly and leave right afterwards, but they seemed to be taking this in a really leisurely manner. I was holding my breath, counting the seconds, ears straining to catch any kind of sound coming from them.
“Don’t stop on my account, kitten,” a gruff voice suddenly piped up, the footsteps stopping right outside my stall. Relief and lust rushed through me at his appearance and I couldn’t hold back a desperate whimper, the fingers on my clit going back to work. There was a chuckle behind the door and then he was pushing it open.
I must have been a sight, underwear and tights pushed under my ass, skirt bunched up around my hips, bent over with my back arched leaning on the wall as I desperately played with myself, mouth open and eyes glazed over.
Yoongi’s eyes raked over me and he hummed lowly in appreciation. He made his way in lazily, shutting and locking the door behind him before leaning on it and just watching for a moment. I tried to put on a show for him but I was truly gone, the three weeks of built up arousal carrying me high and my body racing towards the edge in record speed.
I watched him back, watched his dark hungry eyes, his tongue peeking out to wet his upper lip, the way his hands flexed by his hips, twitching with the need to grab himself. I could see his bulge clearly, the tight black jeans barely able to contain it, and I was going crazy for it. When my eyes jumped back to Yoongi’s face, he was smirking at me knowing where I’d been staring at. What I wanted.
Suddenly he pushed himself away from the door and stepped towards me. Startled I straightened out, fingers stopping once more. He descended on me hurriedly, pushing me into the wall with his body, caging me in. Our faces were suddenly only breaths apart and Yoongi took his sweet time, teasing me by getting closer and pulling away with a laugh. I whined, my clean hand coming up to tangle in his hair and he let me, watching me from above as I writhed against him, wordlessly begging for any touch from him.
Finally, he took pity on me and with a cocky grin smashed our mouths together, immediately prying my lips open and licking inside, claiming me roughly and thoroughly. I moaned into him, body arching into his and he pressed closer, pressing me into the wall again and our bodies touched from our heads to our toes. His hand went to my neck, wrapping around it lightly and grabbing my jaw to keep me still as he kissed me with all his might.
Now with both hands I grabbed onto him, one going around his neck and one around the waist, and he broke the kiss to laugh at me quietly, turning my face with his hand so he could kiss around my ear.
“You’re such a little tease, you know that kitten?” he whispered, voice gravelly with arousal, “Coming in here every week… playing with your pussy… making yourself cum… and then coming out and giving me those eyes, cheeks still flushed from your orgasm and yet playing so coy and shy… you’re such a minx.” I tensed, eyes rolling back as he started nipping at my neck, laying wet kisses and bites all over any skin he could get to.
I didn’t even notice when Yoongi’s other hand found its way between my legs, fingers roughly pressing onto my clit. I choked on a moan, head falling back and hitting the tiled wall, hands flexing into his clothes. He bit my shoulder enough to leave a mark, chuckling at my loud keening before pressing his lips to the shell of my ear again.
“Last week I thought I would go crazy sitting there,” Yoongi continued, almost growling into my skin as his fingers twisted meanly around my sensitive nub making me tremble, “I couldn’t focus on anything, not when I knew how much you wanted to give me a show. Almost went to jerk off at least five times but I held off until you came out to repay the favour.” He chuckled again, hand tightening a little on my neck as he leaned back to look at me.
I tried to get my breathing under control but I was stuck with my mouth hanging open, noises flowing out freely as if this wasn’t a public bathroom. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind though, quite happy to watch me come undone just from a little teasing.
“It was the same for me,” I whispered, looking into his eyes and this time playing coy very much on purpose, licking my lips and batting my lashes to play it up, “Had to sit through the rest of the lecture while thinking about you in here. Was hell.” He snickered darkly, immediately catching onto my act.
He hummed, finger dragging across my lower lip, fascinated for a moment before he snapped back to himself, mouth pulling back into a smirk.
Without a warning his other hand moved lower, fingers tracing my entrance before two of them plunged inside. I moaned out, body seizing up at the sensation. I was wet enough that they went easy but there was still the pleasurable sting of being stretched out on two digits.
Yoongi certainly wasn’t the type to waste time. He hummed satisfied, watching me with those dark eyes, testing the waters with a few shallow pumps before he started finger-fucking me earnestly. Just like everything else, even now he wasn’t gentle, flicking his wrist up and pushing his fingers as far as they could go, curling them to scratch at that one magic spot that had me seeing white.
I whimpered loudly, hips gyrating to ride the motions, already feeling the stirrings of a powerful orgasm lurking on the horizon. Like a shark sensing blood Yoongi chuckled and twisted his fingers on the next thrust. I keened, hands flying up to tangle into his clothes and hair, hips jerking and chasing after the feeling.
“So selfish, kitten,” he tsked at me, still keeping his cool even though I could see his erection attempting to burst through his pants, “only thinking about your own pleasure. No respect for others, huh?”
My first instinct was to apologise, but I got choked up on the words when he started up his pace again, so instead I decided to be a woman of action. Slowly trailing my hand down his torso, feeling him up on the way, grabbing onto his chest, his slim waist, until I finally reached his crotch.
With the first touch he let out a light groan, fingers stuttering and eyes falling shut for a moment, then he was suddenly back onto me, kissing me wildly while his hips fucked into my hand, letting out gruff groans and sighs into my mouth, which I accepted gladly.
For a moment we were just lost in each other, not caring about the noise or the place, just pleasuring each other, touching, feeling. Then Yoongi was tearing away, hand flying from my pussy and stepping back. I couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that left me, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his amused face.
Instead he grabbed me and turned me around until I was leaning on my arms on the wall behind the toilet, one leg up on the closed lid for support. I shivered in anticipation, knowing what would come next. Yoongi was moving about behind me, clothes shuffling and rustling. Then his sweater hit the floor. I turned my head to watch just as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver packet. He grinned at me and winked when catching my eye, then reached out to me, condom in hand.
“Can you hold this for me for a second, darling?” he asked as sweet as honey, but there was something devilish twinkling in his eye.
“Of course,” I answered him. I meant for it to be sassy, but it came out on a breathless whisper as I took the packet and watched Yoongi’s hand run through his hair before setting on his belt. He unbuckled slowly, attentively watching my eyes soaking in every second as he pulled the belt through the buckle and out of his pants. Fingers toyed with the button before popping it open, tongue wetting his lips and hungry eyes eating me up. I trembled under his attention but held still, not even breathing as his fingers grasped at the zipper and pulled it down.
Tired of playing, he pulled his tee out and put the hem between his teeth, revealing his taunt stomach and pretty waist. Winking at my obvious gawking, he finally pulled his jeans and underwear down, his erection springing free. The sight of him shocked me to my core, standing there with his t-shirt in his mouth and a smug glint his eye while he leisurely fisted his flushed red cock. I could feel my pussy gushing and clenching around nothing, desperately calling to be filled up.
Yoongi plucked the condom packet from my limp hand and made a quick work of putting it on. He lined up behind me, hands finding my waist to pull my tee from the skirt, making contact with bare skin.
I gasped when I felt his cock slide through my wet folds, but quickly keened and arched into it. One of Yoongi’s hands tightened on my waist while the other disappeared to grab his length.
“Easy now,” he chuckled at my trembling body, my hips chasing after his cock and trying to entice him into fucking me.
“Please,” was all I could get out of my mouth, “please Yoongi, just fuck me.” His hand tightened again and there was a beat of silence before he snickered.
“So you naughty girl do know my name,” he teased and I froze for a moment, embarrassment flooding me. I turned to him again to see him smirking at me, tee hanging off of his form. “I heard it around,” I whispered sheepishly. He hummed, raising his eyebrows at me.
“Not really fair, is it?” he teased some more, a mischievous expression taking over his face, “Is it, Y/N?” I narrowed my eyes at him jokingly and he grinned.
“Now, what’s your excuse, mister?” I asked him sassily, “Not like I’m a campus celebrity… unlike someone here.”
“May or may not have asked Jungkook cause I saw you two hanging out,” Yoongi admitted easily, laughing at me when I paled.
“God,” I groaned, “No wonder he was getting so cheeky whenever you came up in a conversation.” At that Yoongi raised his eyebrow again, amusement dancing on his features.
“That happen often?” he asked impishly, leaning against me and once again letting me feel his cock sliding through my folds. I gasped a little and blushed even darker. “You’re Namjoon’s friend, so occasionally,” I bold-faced lied straight through my teeth and from the look on Yoongi’s face, he was aware but let me get away with it.
There was a moment of silence where we just stared at each other, mischievous little smiles on our faces, and then Yoongi hummed, pulling his tee back up to his lips and biting down on it. I shuddered, the lust once again taking the fore-front seat in my mind. This time he didn’t stop for anything, grabbing himself with one hand and the other going to my waist to hold me in place.
The tip of his cock circled my entrance and I subconsciously clenched, a gush of wetness leaving me. I whined and wriggled in his hold and he tsked at me again before sliding inside in a single thrust with a light condescending giggle. I groaned, pussy immediately squeezing around the intrusion, feeling every inch and ridge. There was a hitch in Yoongi’s breaths, both hands migrating to my waist and grabbing so tightly I felt his nails digging into my skin.
He barely gave me a second before pulling out and thrusting in again, setting a rough pace from the get-go. All I could do was bury my head into the crook of my elbow, biting into the soft flesh there to keep myself from moaning loud enough for the whole school to hear.
The stretch of his cock was exquisite, the slight burn heating up my already sensitive body to a near boiling point. With every thrust there was a tiny twinge of pain that left me breathless, desperate to muffle any noise that could cut our meeting short.
Yoongi didn’t seem to care much about noise, hands on my waist mercilessly pulling me back onto his cock and fucking me with so much force I felt my whole body twitching with the overdrive of sensation, the slapping of our sweaty bodies against each other and the wet squelch of my weeping pussy getting filled to the brim loud enough to substitute for our own sounds. He was grunting gruffly, the noise seemingly leaving his mouth involuntarily and getting muffled by the tee.
I turned my head slightly to look at him, and god, he was a vision with his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and face the picture of ecstasy, body rippling with the motion of his pumping hips and strong veiny arms and hands gripping onto me hard enough to go red with the force. I couldn’t hold back the moan and he toppled his head forward to look at me, a tired self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips at seeing my fucked out expression.
“Take your fucking shirt off,” I gasped out breathlessly, chuckling at his teasingly narrowed eyes, “You have such a dirty fucking mouth, can’t stand for it being shut.” Yoongi laughed, throwing his head back in delight. Within seconds the piece of fabric joined his sweater on the floor and he leaned forward, hands picking on my own shirt with a mischievous expression.
“Shouldn’t you even the score?” I loved how deep and gravelly his voice became with arousal, even when he was being mischievous I could hear the growl in it and it drove me crazy. I scrambled to listen to him, tearing the shirt off and flinging it behind us. Yoongi’s hands immediately travelled up, playing with the edge of my bra before swiftly undoing the clasp and dragging it off. I gasped lightly at his skilled handiwork and giggled, but Yoongi was already preoccupied with kissing along my shoulders and shoulder blades.
His hips angled better and then jerked them into me again, cock sliding even deeper now. I groaned and arched into him and that was his que to start fucking in earnest again. In this position I could hear the strained sighs and grunts every time he slid back inside, the rough deep pace taking a toll on us both.
The back of my thighs was burning from standing bent over and straining my hips for this long and it added to the mix of feelings running through me. I could feel my orgasm catching up with me, Yoongi’s cock now hitting a spot on every thrust that made me want to scream with pleasure, sliding in so deep I swore I could feel him in my belly and it was so good my head was spinning, and all that came out of me were raspy moans. Yoongi bit into my shoulder, grunts raising in octave, hands pulling at my body to meet his thrusts.
I prayed to god that the walls were thick enough to keep the sounds from escaping onto the hall. I knew that if someone stepped inside now, there would be no masking what was going on, we were both too gone for that, just chasing our pleasure.
I was so close, the weeks of build up and the foreplay and teasing making me delirious. There in that moment I just wished I could stay like this forever, to feel this delicious ecstasy for the rest of my life, but I was so close to snapping I just needed a little extra push even though my head was so high in the clouds wishing to be never brought down.
“Please Yoongi, god,” I choked out, “please, I’m so close.” That seemed to snap Yoongi back into his attitude again, but he couldn’t hide how affected he was too.
“What do you want, kitten, mm?” even he couldn’t talk properly through the gasps and grunts, but still tried to sound as cocky as possible. Instead of talking I grabbed his hand and brought it down between my legs.
Yoongi pressed himself to me closer to make the reach more comfortable, his chest glued to my back as he nibbled on my neck and shoulder, giggling breathlessly when his naughty fingers started drawing tight quick circles on my clit.
My moans got louder, the pumping of his cock, hitting so deep inside of me, combined with the stimulation on my clit made me seize up, whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook me. Yoongi groaned every time my pussy clenched around him, drawing him deeper and closer to his own end. Both of us were so sweaty we stuck to each other, the temperature in the stall rising so high it was almost unbearable.
“Yoongi,” I gasped out, just repeating his name breathlessly as I barrelled to the climax, feeling the beginning of the tingling washing over me, pussy seizing up. Yoongi’s hands were like vice on my body, my waist littered with red indents of his nails, some already purpling slightly.
“I know, kitten,” he whispered into my neck, “Me too, you can let go.” The moment those words left his mouth my orgasm exploded over me, enough to blind me and send my ears ringing for a few moments. I let out a raspy groan, hands scrambling to find purchase on the wall and if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s hold on me, my buckling knees would have sent me crashing to the floor, but all I could focus on was the euphoria blooming through my body, flooding all my senses with so much pleasure I could barely fully register anything that was going on. Yoongi fucked me through the peak, hips losing rhythm and all decorum until finally he gave last few hard pumps and stilled too, coming with a drawn-out moan, hands pushing our hips as close together as they could go.
We clung onto each other as we attempted to catch our breaths again. I felt my arms slipping on the tiles as the pleasant ache started setting into my hips and lower tummy, legs screaming for a reprieve as my brain slowly came back into function. I blinked my eyes open, not even realising I had closed them at some point. Yoongi was basically hugging me from the behind, draped over me just breathing deep, faced smushed into my shoulder blade. Then he chuckled.
“You think we’re still in the clear?” he laughed, “How thick do you think these walls are?” A giggle tumbled out of me and before I knew it we were both laughing breathlessly, bodies still pressed close.
“This is officially the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” I told him, shaky knees trying to keep my weight as I started to gather my wits. Yoongi let me go easily and helped me find my balance as my whole body ached, back killing me after Yoongi railed me like a madman.
“And here I was, thinking this was just regular Tuesday for you.”
I slapped his shoulder lightly, but the blush on my cheeks revealed that I couldn’t really say anything to that. His amused snickers told me he was well aware, so I just stood there and watched him slip the condom off, tie it up and then just awkwardly stand there not knowing what to do with it.
“Guess I can’t just casually drop a used condom into a bin in the girl’s bathroom,” he stated nonchalantly, and I giggled at him. In the end he grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and hid it inside, putting in on the closed bin lid for the moment.
Next Yoongi swiftly cleaned himself up and pulled his jeans back on, but when I reached for the paper to do the same, he swatted my hand away. With a much gentler smile he got it himself, kneeled in front of me and started cleaning me up, gently wiping away the mess left on my centre and thighs. I watched him attentively, the soft look on his face making him look boyish, only the naughty glint in his eyes reminiscent of the man he was just a few minutes ago.
When our eyes met, I returned the smile, hand instinctively going to tangle into his hair. I meant to just card it through the dark wavy locks, but the heated look he gave me had me shuddering again, fingers tightening. Yoongi smirked, tongue licking at his lips sensually just inches away from my exposed pussy.
“Still thinking about naughty things, kitten?” he said, voice dark and deep, “Like the sight of me on my knees for you?” I hesitated for a moment before untangling my hand and gently pushing him with a blush.
“I see,” Yoongi hummed thoughtfully, “maybe next time then.” With a wink he stood up and when I didn’t move he motioned for me to start dressing up with a smirk, handing me my bra and t-shirt. We slowly clambered out of the stall, stretching and trying to get all the body parts to working order again.
“How about,” Yoongi drawled out, self-assured and with the attitude of someone who just got their rocks off, “you ditch the lecture you never really go to anyway and we grab something to eat?” I stopped in my tracks, shocked but pleasantly surprised at his offer. I checked the time quickly.
“There’s only like 10 minutes of class left, I can sit that out and then we can go,” I answered, smiling softly, but Yoongi smirked with all his might, something devilish glinting over his face. He leaned towards me, grabbing me lightly by my shoulders.
“Not looking like that, you can’t,” he whispered meanly and spun me around. The moment I laid my eyes on myself in the mirror, I gasped. Yoongi was standing behind me grinning like the devil admiring his handiwork. My neck was littered in little bites and spots ranging from dark pink across red all the way to purple. Yoongi let out a satisfied hum, almost sounding like a purr, his hands going across my waist to pull at the tee tucked into my skirt to reveal more reddish purplish bruises from his fingers.
I turned in his arms and slapped his shoulder lightly, completely flustered by his antics. “How can I walk out of here now? Everyone will know what I’d been doing instead of sitting at the lecture,” I whined, more embarrassed than angry, but Yoongi’s laughing face was totally free of any remorse, “I look like someone beat me up.”
The man said nothing, just pulled me closer to kiss me gently. I looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before I whined again: “I don’t even have a scarf with me today.” He burst out laughing and patted my hip softly.
“I’ll get your stuff, you wait here,” he whispered conspiratorially and with one last wink he was gone. It took him only three minutes to stick his head back into the bathroom, looking a little ruffled and a lot amused.
“I suggest we get going fast, I’m afraid a guy leaving the ladies restroom isn’t as inconspicuous as I wished it was,” he got out quickly, smirking impishly and handing me my coat. I tried to wear it in a way that covered most of the marks, but it was futile, more than half of my neck still on full display.
I walked out of the bathroom the same moment the door to my classroom opened and students started filing out. Yoongi exchanged a single glance with me before we both took off, running down the stairs like we were being chased, only stopping once the building doors slammed shut behind us.
“Jimin’s café?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, still trying to get his strength back and leaning on his knees. I grinned at him and grabbed his hand, already pulling him in the right direction.
“Sure, let’s go!”
Bonus:
“Holy shit! The fuck happened to you?” Jimin exclaimed loudly enough for the whole café to hear the moment he saw me walk through the door. Jungkook and Tae, who were sitting at a small table near the counter to keep Jimin company while he had his shift, turned to look at me only for Kookie to promptly spit out whatever he was drinking.
“Holy shit!” I gave him an unimpressed look and walked up to Jimin to order.
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” I side-eyed him sassily, but Jungkook was grinning mischievously, a knowing glint in his eye. I flushed under his gaze and looked away at which he started laughing loudly.
“Oh my god! I can’t believe you actually did it,” he giggled, properly entertained by the situation and by my embarrassment. Tae was watching it all unfold, confused look on his face.
“Did what?” Jimin asked, similarly confused.
As if on cue the door opened again and Yoongi stepped in, ignoring everyone currently staring at him and walking straight to me, arm curling around my waist to pull me closer to him. He bent down slightly to whisper in my ear: “Got rid of the evidence successfully.”
“Holy shit!” This time it was Tae who screamed, coming full circle. I gave their smug smiling faces an annoyed glare and turned to Jimin to order again, but he was trying to conceal his grin behind his hand. Even more vexed I turned to Yoongi who was smirking smugly like a cat who got all the cream, hand possessively squeezing at my bruised waist.
“On second thoughts, we shouldn’t have come here,” I said to no one in particular, then turning my narrowed eyes at the man of the hour himself, “and wipe that smirk off your face, mister.” There were giggles from the boys all around us, but Yoongi just swooped down and kissed me softly, then pushed us closer towards the counter.
Jimin cleared his throat and tried to put on a professional expression, but there was mirth in his eyes that I just knew I was going to get all the teasing later. Tae and Kookie cleared out the mess at the table and made space for us to sit down, one looking more amused than the other.
I gave them both the stink eye and ignored them, checking my phone instead, trying to reply to all the messages I’ve missed in the last hour. Around me there was silence, everyone just sitting there looking at each other grinning, before Jungkook cleaned his throat and exclaimed:
“God, fucking finally! Thought Yoongi-hyung was gonna talk my ear off about you!”
“Kookie!” There was a pretty blush spreading on Yoongi’s cheeks, a polar opposite to the cocksure man that was railing my brains out 20 minutes ago. I giggled and squeezed his arm. He gave in easily, leaning towards me.
Then he set his eyes on Jungkook and narrowed them teasingly. “We’re gonna settle that later you brat.”
#kpop fic#kpop smut#kpop fluff#bts fic#bts smut#bts fluff#bts x reader#yoongi smut#yoongi fluff#yoongi x reader#suga fic#yoongi fic#suga smut#suga fluff#suga x reader
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CUM INSIDE! ⌇BTS REACTIONS ࿐
— PROMPT: bts member’s reaction to hearing “cum inside!” for the first time.
— PAIRING: members x f!reader
— GENRE: smut. 18+ minors dni.
— WARNINGS: creampies (duh), rough sex, baby talk (joon and tae), overstimulation, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t do this), mentions of birth control, forced (?) creampie in jimin’s, mean dom!hobi, heavy degradation (use of slut & bitch), spanking (1), tae w/ breeding kink (he’s crazy), slight mention of insecurity in koo’s, peer pressure (?), whiny jk <3 heavy praise & use of pet names (if i missed any let me know :0)
— A. NOTE: hellooooo this is my first time writing for bts so please be kind, but also let me know what u think :D !! xx
KIM NAMJOON ࿐
namjoon doesn’t want kids (at least not right now), you know that, but the way he fucks you makes you believe otherwise. you almost think he’s crazy the way he fucks you stupid without fail every. single. time. it’s only worse when you utter the words he’s wanted to hear for so long.
“cum in me, joonie!” you cry out, hands gripping the sheets.
his pace is already brutal, but there’s something so taboo about hearing your desperate voice that makes him snap. his eyes nearly roll and any coherent thought about safety leaves his mind.
“yeah? you want me to fill up this cute cunt?” he grunts as the blunt head of his cock bruises your cervix. “want me to give you a fuckin’ baby? s’ that it?”
you know he doesn’t know what he’s saying. he knows you’re on birth control. he knows he doesn’t want a kid, yet he’s going to fill you up to his heart’s content.
“joon!“ you squeal as you clench tightly around his cock, eyes threatening to roll back at his dirty words. the only thing you know now is his name.
he moans at how your cunt envelops his fat cock in the most perfect manner. “you like that idea? fuck, m’ gonna give it all to you, okay? just cream my fuckin’ cock, baby,” he babbles, his grip on your waist tightening as he throbs inside of your spasming pussy.
you cum without warning, a silent scream fleeing your mouth, and the feeling of you wrapping even tighter around him makes him cry loudly. his toes curl as his orgasm washes over him and he shoots long ribbons of cum inside of you.
“oh, fuck yeah, baby,” he moans loudly as he rides out his orgasm rutting into you as his cum fills you up. “y-you did so fuckin’ well,” he stutters as he collapses on top of you, softening length slipping out of your creamy cunt.
“you,” you pant out, trying to regain full consciousness. “are insane.”
“all for you, baby.” he smiles, pressing his lips to yours. “now what do you say we do that again in the shower?”
KIM SEOKJIN ࿐
seokjin would quite literally do anything you asked of him. you’re his girl, his princess, his angel. if you wanted him to, he’d walk to the ends of the earth. he’s never been opposed to anything you’ve asked of him. but when you ask him to fill you up with his cum, he’s taken aback.
“are you… sure?” he questions worriedly, yet his cock hardens at the mere thought of his cum dressing your insides.
you nod, a sweet smile on your face, “yeah, only if you wanna… just wanna try it, yunno? see what the hype is about!” you reason. “if we don’t like it, you can keep making a mess on my face, i love that too,”
he clears his throat, nodding his head—anything for his girl.
and that’s how you ended up here.
“jinnie!” you cry feeling him move deeper inside with every stroke.
“fuck,” he groans, hands tightly gripping your waist as he works his cock into your sloppy pussy. “gonna cum, princess, are you ready?”
you gasp, nodding vigorously, excited to feel the warmth of his cum. “yeah— hah! cum in me, please!”
he feels the way you clench around him and lets out a soft moan as he buries himself deep inside your gummy walls. he empties his load inside painting your walls and leaving the both of you shaking and withering.
he pants, pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of your ruined cunt. it’s almost as if he’s entranced by it, fingers moving to push it back into you before his mind could stop him.
you whine his name loudly at the sudden contact, “b-baby! s’ too much!” your hand wraps around his wrist, but he simply shakes you off.
“uh-uh, can’t waste what you asked for, princess,” he mumbles, continuing to finger fuck his cum into your overstimulated pussy. he’s never cumming anywhere else.
MIN YOONGI ࿐
you were horny. so unbelievably horny. with yoongi spending so much time in the studio, there wasn’t much you could do with yourself. sure, you could use your fingers or the magic wand you’d bought before the two of you got together, but you knew it wasn’t going to be enough. you need to feel every inch of him stretching you out.
that’s when you end up at his studio, typing in the code on the keypad. when you walk in, he turns to look at you, a small grin appearing on his face. “hi, baby,” he stands to kiss you. “what are you doin’ here?”
you hum softly, thinking of something enticing to say to provoke him. you bite back a smirk as your hand runs over his cotton-covered chest, “missed you, yoongi…” you start, a pout forming on your face. “missed your hands… your lips… your cock,”
his breath hitches, “babe, i- i have to–”
“need you to cum inside, yoongi, please? need it– crave it, fuck,” you paw at the elastic band of his sweats. “m’ so wet, baby… can’t you spare–”
he cuts you off with a groan, pushing you onto the couch in the corner of his studio. “can’t go a day without cock, huh?” as you shake your head vigorously at the question, he simply chuckles. “well, i’ll help you out, sweet girl, and how about this– i fuck you and bust a fuckin’ load so deep inside, you’ll feel me for days? you want that, pretty baby?”
you let out a gaspy whine, arching your back off the plush sofa for even the slightest touch. “pleasepleaseplease, wan’ it,”
he smirks before complying with your every need, making you cum countless times within the time you spent impaled on his thick cock. he called you every name in the book from his good girl to his needy bitch, all the while, you were a drooling, overstimulated mess agreeing to everything slipping from his mouth. and when he came, his cock nestled deep inside your pussy, angry red tip kissing your cervix, he swore he’d never spend a day without you again.
JUNG HOSEOK ࿐
“my baby is such a fucking needy cumslut,” hoseok laughs condescendingly, hand moving to strike your wiggling ass.
you had asked him to cum in you as soon as he’d walked into the door of your home. little did you know, hoseok had a not-so-good day and that bright smile you were used to was replaced with a pent-up scowl.
now you’re letting him use you, and god, does it feel good.
you yelp at the feeling of his hand, moaning out, “yours! your cumslut!” you arch your back, raising your ass up for him and making his cock move deeper into you. every rigid vein feels delicious and you can’t help but feel close to cumming.
he coos, “that’s right, doll, all mine to fucking use and dump my cum in, hmm?’ his hand squeezes the flesh of your ass and he groans loudly. “so perfect, pussy’s all mine,”
“god, yes hoseok! use me!” you cry desperately both at his words and the tightening knot you feel deep in your tummy. “‘m g-gonna cummm!”
your arms fail you and you fall into your pillow, soaking it with your tears and drool as you cry and scream over the powerful orgasm.
“that’s it, doll, gonna give you what you want,” he gasps, stilling at the hilt and letting himself go. his cock twitches and spurts thick ropes of cum over your velvet walls. “fuckkk,”
the feeling of his hot cum flooding your insides makes you gasp and weakly clamp around him, “feels so good, baby!” you whine, lifting your head from the ruined pillow.
he hums, rubbing your red ass with a big smile on his face. he’s quick to pull out and clean you up just to pepper kisses all over your face and whisper soft praises in your ear for the rest of the night.
PARK JIMIN ࿐
jimin is terrified. no matter how many times you reassure him that you’re on birth control and can’t get pregnant, there’s still a voice in the back of his mind that yells ‘no!’ when you ask him to cum in you.
you moan as jimin grunts into your neck. “baby, please!” you beg, “wanna feel it, wanna feel your cum! pleaseeee!” you’re crying now, desperate tears slipping from your eyes.
he moans at the sound of your cries, cock twitching uncontrollably inside of you. “y-you know i-i can’t, angel,” he stutters, growing weaker with your begs.
you whine, a mantra of pleads slipping past your kiss-swollen lips as he thrusts into you. you card your fingers through your hair, gripping it tightly and tugging on it to pull him out of your neck. he looks at you with eyes filled with lust, yours filled with pure need.
“m’ gonna pull out–” he starts but is cut off by your protest.
“no!” you cry, wrapping your legs around his waist. you hold him against you tightly, forcing him to stay nestled inside of you. jimin’s eyes lose their darkness, instead filling with panic.
“let go, love,” he pants out. “c-can’t hold it,”
you shake your head vigorously, practically fucking yourself onto his cock. “let go f’me, minnie. fill me up, wanna feel you close to me. wanna feel your hot cum, baby, please!”
“Y/N–”
you gasp when it happens. jimin’s hot cum filling you to the brim as he twitches and gasps and moans over your body. the mere feeling has you cumming all over him, coating him with your sticky arousal.
jimin’s head fogs when he finally slips out, watching your mixed cum drip ooze out of your cunt. he can’t help but shiver watching the scene unfold– you look so sexy covered in sweat and spilling the cum you begged for with that fucked out expression. suddenly, he feels addicted to the sight, feeling the need to fuck his cum into you again and again and again.
“i’m sorry…” you whimper out.
he shakes his head, still breathless. “maybe you can make it up to me?”
“how?”
“lemme fill you up again,”
KIM TAEHYUNG ࿐
taehyung’s carnal desire to breed you is almost scary. you’re fully aware of his intense baby fever, but you’ve had to beg him not to cum in you. you use the same excuse, “we’re not ready,” or “just a bit longer,” and taehyung respects that, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still crave it.
but when you are ready on one random day, you whisper aloud while his arm is wrapped around your waist and his hand playing with the elastic band of your panties. “tae… think m’ ready…”
taehyung knows exactly what that means, so he’s quick to move and it isn’t until he’s made you cum countless times that you realize you’ve made a mistake.
“fuckfuckfuck, gonna make you the prettiest mama, swear to god,” he moans, thrusting into your sloppy pussy. a white ring of your arousal coloring the base of his cock. “angel, m’ gonna fill you up, cums gonna take, promise,” he babbles and you can’t help the overstimulated whines and cries that slip from your mouth.
“tae!” is all you can say through broken moans, but he needs more— craves more.
“t-tell me you wan’ it,” he slurs, thumb moving to your clit. “tell me you wanna have my fuckin’ baby, tell me you wanna be cute n’ round for me,”
“please! fuck, please tae, need it,” you beg, arching your back into his touch. “need you to fuck a baby into me— oh!”
you’re cut off by the feeling of his hot cum flooding your womb and taehyung’s broken moans. as both of you shake and cry together, tae can’t help but let out a breathy laugh at the idea of finally starting a family.
“fuck, i love you…” he mumbles against your swollen lip. “gonna take good care of you and our baby, my love, i promise.”
JEON JUNGKOOK ࿐
you and jungkook are experimentalists. the two of you loved and trusted one another more than anything else. you’ve almost tried everything, from orgasm denial to fucking in a public park, but you’ve always been safe. always wearing a condom, and if you’re out, he’s opting to fuck your mouth or tits, staying as far away as he can from your illicit pussy.
your best friend had scared you, though. “Y/N, you know it feels better for guys without the condom? he’ll leave you if you keep making him wear one,” she told you.
you know jungkook, though, and he’d never do that… right? If you were so sure, the thoughts wouldn’t be swirling around in your head while you’re right under him.
“been needing to fuck you so bad all day,” he moans into your neck, hungrily nipping at the sensitive skin, cock thrusting in and out of you. you hum, mindlessly, and jungkook stops, noticing your lack of response. “is something wrong?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows.
you sigh, “do you wanna fuck me raw?”
his cock twitches inside you and you have your answer. he chokes, breath caught in his throat, “w-what?! i-is this a trick question?”
“no, it’s a yes or no question: do you or do you not wanna fuck me raw?”
“i-i mean, i do eventu–”
you cut him off, “okay, fuck me raw then, koo,” you say, reaching between your legs to pull his cock out of you, peeling the flimsy rubber off and tossing it to the side. you watch as he gawks, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “c’mon, baby, fuck me. wanna feel you,”
he groans at your words, taking hold of his member and aligning it with your sticky hole. he takes a breath, looking up for reassurance before pushing into you.
And holy fuck, you understand why guys love this. you can feel every single rigid vein on his cock deliciously as you trap him in your heat.
jungkook cries a high-pitched string of curse words as he bottoms out, “b-baby, oh fuck! baby, you feel so– oh, god… i won’t last lo-oong,” he moans as you tighten around him.
you realize how addicting the feeling is, whimpering out, “cum inside my pussy, koo,” without thinking. you’ll worry about it later as you do your other issues. “please, baby, s’ gonna feel so good, just let go inside,”
something in him snaps, grabbing you by the hips and fucking into you like an animal. his speed is quick and uncoordinated. it makes you feel like a flailing rag doll, but fuck, you feel so good.
“c-cumming!” he cries, gritting the word through his teeth as you feel your velvet walls being sprayed with his thick, hot cum. “oh, baby, fuck. you’re so fucking dirty… so hot,” he whines.
you mewl, basking in the feeling of his cum, “no more condoms,” you pant, flipping him over for a round two. “let’s go again,”
© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
#bts smut#bts x reader#bts reaction#bts reactions#namjoon smut#seokjin smut#yoongi smut#hoseok smut#hobi smut#jimin smut#taehyung smut#jungkook smut#rm smut#suga smut
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cw: virgin/inexperienced!reader + based on irl experiences
sucking him off for the first time and after finishing in your mouth, breathily asking, "are you sure this is your first time?"
- sakusa, ATSUMU, bokuto, KAGEYAMA, KUROO, kenma, akaashi, oikawa, daichi, suga, tendo
#haikyuu smut#atsumu smut#akaashi smut#sakusa smut#bokuto smut#kageyama smut#tendo smut#kenma smut#kuroo smut#oikawa smut#daichi smut#suga smut#sugawara smut#fr my bf said this to me the first time i gave head and god it was so hot
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slipping through my fingers (myg) {series masterlist}
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.
[prologue]
1. will i ever see you again?
2. and the hits just keep coming 1.0.
3. the calm before the storm.
4. and the hits just keep coming 2.0.
5. a one time thing.
6. ...tba.
#fic: slipping through my fingers#yoongi x reader#min yoongi smut#yoongi fanfic#yoongi smut#yoongi fic#suga smut#suga fic#suga x reader#suga angst#min yoongi x oc#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x oc#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#dilf yoongi#yoongi dilf au
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Crazy over you x Min Yoongi
[HYBRID AU]
FINAL
18+
The last bite
Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger, Jungkook/Bunny Hybrid, Hoseok/assistant.
Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior.
Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut.
SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.
Authors Note: okay that’s a lot to unpack here!! First of all, I’m sorry for any grammatical errors, second I hope you guys like the last bite of this story, truly I cannot thank you guys enough for waiting and being here with me in this journey!! Let me know what you all think in the comments and see you guys!! 💖
🩸My master list 🩸
< Previously
……………………………………………………………………………….
Everything felt so unreal ever since we left the clinic. I had went through all the documents already, Jin and me signed all the forms for Yoongis adoption and we had already meet before taking our leave.
I couldn’t believe it even tho me and Jin were heading to my new apartment, taking the snake hybrid to my home where he would live for the rest of his life from now on. With Jin being his brother he wanted to be in charge of the entire process - and he wanted to see Yoongi finally free and in a comfortable home. I was glad Jin was there the whole time, i felt like i could lean on him if i felt nervous and i was only able to carry on with this process because of him.
We exchanged many smiles on the way, both of us shared the same fellings of excitement right now. Yoongi was in a different car behind us to accommodate him better, the white van was spacious and was safer for him to be transported to his destination.
It has been two weeks since i finished setting my knew apartment and making new adjustments to ensure it would be a comfortable environment for a hybrid Snake to live in, things i never once considered for myself i was now buying for him. I felt so nervous about the whole situation i made the decision to get a new place entirely for him, i feared my old small apartment would feel like a cage for him and immediately stared looking for a new place for us. This time he would have his own room, the apartment was simple but spacious i made very clear that a bigger place was a must when I meet with the agent.
I took some time off my work so I could be there for the first few weeks with Yoongi and help him adapt, I knew that with drastic changes he would be at his most sensitive moment for him and I was glad to have Jin by my side. He was so polite with everything, I couldn’t ask for a better friend and on top of that Yoongi was his brother. I could trust him and so could Yoongi.
When we had started the adopting process, Jin finally decided to talk things out with Yoongi and come clean about being his brother. It was a lot to unpack for Yoongi and unfortunately he didn’t liked the facts that much but, they’ve been trying. It wasn’t going to be an easy or quick thing to fix, I can’t blame Yoongi too. He has been living his whole life alone without family and now Jin appears to be his brother, both males were mature enough to know better then push a relationship they never had.
So far I knew they’ve been doing their best at being friends with each other, but they still need time.
When the car stopped in front of the building, my heart was almost coming out of my chest I felt an immense pressure the entire drive but even now it was like I was about to burst in all directions.
I shared one look with Jin before the both of us got out of the car, the van parked right behind his. I made my way around it towards the back as the staff opened the back doors to get Yoongi out.
For safety reasons he had to be on his collar but other than that he was completely free.
The weather today was nice, I felt great knowing it.
I watched as Yoongi came out of the car on his own, eyes wide open watching every little thing around him in complete awe, the sun shined over him making his scales noticeably lighter. I reached my hand out for him, his eyes immediately turning to mine as he walked towards me.
I geve him a small nervous smile, he looked me up and down before closing his hand around mine. This was the first time we were seeing each other outside the clinic, the first time he saw me as just me. Not his doctor.
I couldn’t decipher what was going on in his mind in that moment, he had a neutral expression. But he kept looking at every corner of my face, maybe wondering if this was truly real. That he was here.
Jin walked right behind with us as we entered the building, no one said anything but the silence was comforting in a way.
As the elevator begin to go up Yoongi stood closer to me, hand sneaking around my waist making me turn to him to give him a smile. This time he shyly smiled back, looking down at our hands still intertwined. I have been thinking about how our lives would be from now, what we would do together and how it would feel to be so close to him everyday. At first i was nervous, it is something the two of us never experienced before and i kept thinking: this is much different then being with him as his doctor. That thought made me nervous, but now, as we stand so close to each other i don’t feel nervous anymore. I don’t have to be someone else with him and i can just be myself. Not long after the doors opened and we all left at the same time, a few feet away in that long corridor was my new apartment, I was excited for everything that would come after we cross that door.
Yoongi must’ve notice, because I felt his hold in my hand slightly tightened. Immediately feeling his presence putting my nervousness at ease as I looked up into his eyes, his thumb caressing over the back of my hand the whole time.
The door had a smart digital lock, it was fancy and i wasn’t used with that knowing how forgetful I could be at times I made sure to have the pass code writing inside my wallet and after pressing the password in it feeling the snake hybrid eyes fallowing my every move, the door opened.
I let both Jin and Yoongi get in first standing behind to close the door, while i put my things on the small table beside the shoe rack stealing glances at the two. I watch as the brothers look around the entrance room.
The living room was the biggest part of the apartment and as soon as I entered i’m welcomed by simple but modern atmosphere of the living room, the apartment had a glass wall and we could see the entire city from the living room. I catch Jin looking around amazed as Yoongi looks around the white couch running his hands over the fabric.
- this view is incredible - Jin said, turning to face me.
- please, Jin we both know your house is much bigger than mine - i said, walking up to him.
- yeah…. But i don’t have this view. Is almost like a 3D movie screen.
- I know right, I fell in love with it and I knew I had to get it - I tell him - at night is even more beautiful.
- I can imagine… - he says - you gotta invite me sometime for dinner sometime.
- oh yeah… besides Yoongi could use a friend- I said, pointing out were the hybrid has been this whole time.
My eyes instantly turning back to Yoongi, he seemed to be lost in thought looking around the room and touching everything. Anything i learned about snake hybrids is their sensitivity towards certain fabrics, their dopamine levels rise up around comfortable fabrics. Yoongi looked the happiest naked in a nest of velvet covers at the clinic, i still remember the day i wore a pencil black skirt with said fabric and he couldn’t stop touching it. With his words: it scratched a part of his brain he never knew. It was like giving catnip to a cat for the first time, for that reason i had to pick all the house furnitures very carefully. I can’t have a overstimulated snake hybrid walking around the apartment.
- what do you think? - I ask him, walking towards him - I change some things around for you and I also did some research for your room.
He didn’t answer at first, eyes shined brighter taking in every part of the room before focusing on me. He still wore the clinic uniform and it was hard to believe he was mine like that, i was eager to see him in the clothes I bought for him. I wanted for him to experience all of the world, things he was never able to before.
He was still probably processing everything that was going on in that moment, i knew for a fact that it would take some time for him to adapt fully to this new environment. He has a lot to learn.
- this all is just for us? - he softly asked, as if not believing - just us?
- yes, just you and me - I assured him, taking his hand in mine running my thumb over his knuckles - is our home.
He smiled, looking down to hide the soft shade of pink on his checks. Not being able to hold much longer I close my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug which he immediately fell into. Holding into me just as tight and almost tripping us over.
A sight of relief left my lips, he was finally free and he trusted me enough to be here with me. One thing about our clinic adoption process is mutuality, it has so many layers but the most important one is how both the hybrid and potential owners feel about each other. Once you apply for adoption, two meetings are required. One with the director and doctors of the hybrid and one with the hybrid, that way both parts get to know each other better. Not every clinic works this way, but now that Jin was fully in control of the clinic he made sure all the procedures regarding the hybrid’s adoption were done correctly and with much care.
Letting go of Yoongi slowly I pull him by the hand to the other side of the room, towards the kitchen.
- let’s continue the tour.. - I said, as the two fallow me.
I show him and Jin around the house properly, starting with the kitchen on the right side of the apartment, the dining table was what separated the living room from it, highlighted by the chandelier above the round dining table.
The laundry room was close to the kitchen, everything here was simple and neat. I didn’t try to get any extravagant items or forniture it hasn’t been long since I moved here anyway, and i wasn’t really a fan of colorful and expensive things. The apartment was minimalist but comfortable, although the apartment did came with a billiard table from the last owner.
On the left side of the apartment was where our rooms were in a small corridor after the space where the billiard table had been placed, in a place like this usually people would put a piano there but i was sure the last owner was a men. Who would leave a billiard table behind and put it in there?
- don’t tell me you got that? - Jin asked pointing out the said table, a tone of mischief on his voice as he stared at me with a grin.
- it came with the apartment… those things are expensive and as much as I’m the best when it comes to this game, I wouldn’t buy a pool table Jinnie - i said, the three of us stopped in front of the table.
- yeah, you wouldn’t…. But now you definitely need to envite me for dinner - he said, walking around the table.
- said the guy that literally has his own play ground at home - i tease.
- but i dont have you to lose to me there - he teased back.
- don’t go there… you know i never lose - i said.
We would continue on arguing jokingly, but i felt Yoongi pulling on my hand turning me fully towards him.
- what’s this game thing? - he asked, almost innocently but i saw how he would look behind me at Jin earning a chuckle from him.
They are brothers. And i was here thinking - more like hoping, praying for the gods - that his jealousy would disappear once he finds that out, but now both males keep getting on my nerves with that. Jin knows how possessive Yoongi gets and he teases his brother in every chance he gets, using that against him and then Yoongi does the same thing and so on i have to stand between the two as they carry on arguing about who’s the best and the list goes on. To think they both are adults.
- is a fun game… i’ll teach you when we are alone - i tell him, which earned me a smirk from the hybrid. I feared the game was his least priority once we’re alone.
With that i carry on the little tour on the last rooms of the house, first showing Yoongis room which was in front of mine. I made sure to get him a spacious bed with his favorite covers, the silk and velvet were a dream to sleep on he wasn’t wrong about that. So much i got those for my room as well.
- this is your room - I tell him, opening the door for him to enter - I made sure to make is as comfortable as possible but if there is anything you would like to add or change you can just tell me.
He stood in front of the king size bed, eyes roaming around every corner of the room attentively. I didn’t add much decoration for his room, not knowing what he would like i thought it would be better if he choose what he wants.
I watched him carefully wanting to catch all of his expressions, sharing a look with Jin who seemed to be just as excited as i was in that moment i could swear i saw tears under his eyes.
And i understand him, he was watching as his brother finally got a home of his own. Despite everything he got his brother the freedom he always deserved.
- I like it… - Yoongi said sitting over the bed.
I exchanged a smile with Jin, chuckling as the he turned to wipe the tears off his face and so on I continued with the last part of the tour.
[…]
…. 3 days later ….
I had made the decision to take a few weeks off from work to focus fully on accommodating Yoongi at home, it was something new for the both of us and I was so nervous at the beginning i didn’t get any sleep the first night but now that three days have gone by I felt like my nervousness was all for nothing.
Yoongi was adapting so well it was almost as if he had lived here his whole life, he learned so fast and without even asking for help. It was like watching a drama unfold right in front of me, I was there insisting on helping him at every second but all it took was one glance and he managed everything by himself, I thought the first days with him being in the same space as me would be the hardest ones but it was truly so peaceful. I was worried over nothing when it came to Yoongi, three days out of the clinic and he already learned how to cook.
Three days again before Jin left ha and i had made the decision to stop giving Yoongi suppressants, now that he’s in a safer space having his own space helps ease the situation for his heat. It would take some time for it to come back so i would have enough time to prepare myself for it, the two of us haven’t really talked about it yet. None of us mentioned what happened at the clinic and i was too nervous to say anything now, busying myself with his adaptation here trying to get away with it. We needed to talk about that, i knew that, but things weren’t as easy. We were so different from each other deep down i was just afraid I wouldn’t be able to give him what needed.
Before anything three days ago Jin and I had a talk with Yoongi about all his protocols from now, he agreed on the stop of the suppressants and for the future exams and check ups it would only be needed to take twice a year every six months, to ensure his health is good.
Everything aside, I couldn’t lie even if I wanted to.
For the first time in my life I was waking up in the morning every day for more then just doing my duties, I had reason to wake up with a smile on my face every morning knowing I would see him there.
The past days Yoongi created a routine of his own, he would usually wake up before me and make us coffee. Stand behind the kitchen counter while he stared at the window wall as the sunlight shined through, making the entire room look like a golden dream.
Every morning my heart was filled with so much happiness, just the sight of him made any worries disappear completely and today it wasn’t any different.
I made my way to the kitchen while closing my sleeping robe, fallowing the sweet scent of hot coffee.
- morning… - I said, gaining his attention as i entered the kitchen.
I walked around the counter where he stood, eyes locked on his as he put the mug down closing his arms around my body in a tight hug. The smell of coffee filled the entire apartment deliciously.
- morning… - he mumbled raspy over my ear, moving just enough to plant a kiss over my lips. Quick and soft.
- how did you sleep last night? - I ask him.
I watched as his features immediately changed into a bitter one as soon as the words left my lips, I knew exactly what was coming after that but the way he scrunched his nose was so cute I couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped my lips, which I immediately tried to hide the moment he tried to move away from me. Immediately holding his waist tighter pushing him against the counter.
- awfully…. So terribly uncomfortable I nearly had any sleep and is all your fault - he said, hands falling over mines.
- I know, I know… - i blinked cutely, fallowing his face at every turn he made to avoid my gaze.
- no, im not taking it anymore… - he said, a pout forming on his lips and I had bit my own lip to hold back another mischievous giggle.
He’s been acting so cute lately it was making so hard for me to resist, it was like the old grumpy snake hybrid I once knew was gone and was replaced by a cute pouty snake hybrid.
- i’m so sorry my pookie… - i watched as his ears immediately turned red over the nickname i gave him, even the slightest and most innocent nickname was enough to make him turn red and hide his face shyly. I was at the point of bursting watching him.
- no… i’m not your… whatever that is you said - he turned away to the side, his scales shined like golden petals over the sunrise coming through the window.
- all of this because I didn’t let you sleep with me? I thought you liked your own room.
- I do… but I thought that now that we are both alone here, you wouldn’t be away from me - he turned back, staring down at my eyes.
- we’ve been through this already…
The truth is that ever since we’ve been here, we only went as far as a few kisses on the couch while we cuddled. Our nights just as our morning were spent completely stick together on the couch, the tv would play some aleatory movie the we never payed much attention to honestly.
He would usually fall asleep over me while I run my fingers through his hair not so long after i would fall asleep, until one of us wakes up hungry and the kitchen becomes a playground for the curious snake hybrid.
- I just want you to have some space to figure things out, especially now that you’re clean from suppressants it could be a bit overwhelming and I don’t want you to have a hard time - I tell him, running my hands over his waist down his hips.
- you care too much for me - he says, finally giving in and smiling softly.
- always - I said, leaning towards his chest to plant a quick kiss the the exposed skin.
- don’t think you’re free from this discussion… - he said, voice sounding much lower this time.
I looked up at his eyes our faces bearly centimeters away, noses brushing softly against each other.
- what discussion? - I pushed innocently, making him scoff over my lips.
- you’re gonna make me lose scales, y/n.
I felt his smile grow the moment i closed the distance between our lips, warmth rising up all over my body the second his hands traveled over my back up and down, softly scratching over the fabric of my robe.
Until the growling of my stomach interrupted us.
- what are hiding in there? - He teased poking my belly and my cheeks burned shyly like wild fire.
- funny… - I dry laughed makings the snake chuckle even more.
- well let’s give it some food before you eat me for breakfast - he teased.
I hit his shoulder playfully and we begin with our morning routine, making some breakfast for the both of us while he seats there watching me.
… 6pm …
We’ve been entangled on the couch the past two hours, binge watching a new drama. Earlier Yoongi decided to spent almost two hours in the bathtub, he used three bottles of bubble bath and made a mess all over his bathroom saying it was my fault for not letting him shower with me. But in the end he cleaned up his mess so i wasn’t mad about it anymore, craving popcorn i was ready to make some butter popcorn when Yoongi said he would made them for me and I shouldn’t have left him alone in the kitchen to pick a movie. He managed to burn it and almost set the fire alarm of the apartment, i was speechless. But i just couldn’t get angry at him, he looked so devastated after burning the popcorn he had the biggest pout on his lips.
I took the charge of making the popcorn again and told him to wait in the living room but he stayed and said he would watch me so he could learn, I thought nothing of it and just continue my business to focus to notice the snake hybrid sliding closer the moment i turned to place the now done popcorn into a bowl.
A gasp leaving my lips in instant surprise the moment the snake holds me from behind, i giggle feeling he sink his face a the curve of my neck. He’s been doing that a lot lately finding amusement on catching me off guard just to tease on my weak spot, i held on his arms turning my face toward his kissing the tip of his nose. He smiled holding me tighter.
Yoongi has been gaining some weight since he left the clinic and i was trying to keep my composure at how fast he was getting stronger, he wasn’t the small snake hybrid left to die at the clinic anymore. Yoongi was growing muscles and eating better then he was before, he looked much healthier now and i was happy for him.
I leaned against his chest, feeling the woody scent surrounding us. After three bottles of bubble bath he at least gonna smell nice for days now. I chuckled at the thought turning to face him, never letting his touch slide off my body he smirked at me.
- is this… - i leaned closer to his face, smelling alcohol on his lips - is this whiskey?
- is that what it is? - he asked, innocently.
In that moment i was hit by a wave of shock, i was completely at loss for words, looking closer at him i realized he was fully drunk. Cheeks red and eyes bearly open not to forget the smell of whiskey on his breath. Just when did he drink so much? I turned my back for three seconds?
I wanted to curse myself for being such an alcoholic in that moment, maybe i should’ve hidden my supply of alcohol in my room and not right beside the pool table. What was i even thinking? Yoongi is free now and just like a kid, of course he’s gonna take a taste of everything new to him.
- how much did you drink? - i asked, worried. This was the first time I heard of a hybrid drinking alcohol, god knows what kind of side effects that could have on him.
- a cup? I dont really know - he mumble.
- a cup? Shit… how did you drink that? - i was so utterly worried.
- with my mouth? - he said, sarcasm dripping down his lips like the whiskey in his breath.
- no way Sherlock…. - i held my temples leaning away from him. Just what am i gonna do with a drunken snake hybrid now?
- why? Was i suppose to drink from yours….? - he chuckled drunkenly, making me look up at him with red cheeks.
This kind of side effects is what i was trying to avoid.
- you… - i didn’t even knew what to say, he just stood there laughing as if this was the funniest thing to him.
And for that small moment i laughed with him, i don’t think ive ever seen him this happy. Gummies out at how big he was smiling, chest moving up and down faster he could bearly hold himself up while laughing. Jin is gonna love this.
- okay dunk boy, eat - i shove some popcorn on his mouth - i need you less drunk now.
He nodded while eating. I took the bowl of popcorn with me in one hand and the snake hybrid with the other to the living room, the movie was playing on the TV but failed to catch my attention. As i put the popcorn on the coffee table i made a small run for the bar beside the pool table, looking over the bottles i found one still opened and in that moment i wanted to kill Yoongi - he drunk half a bottle of jack.
- you drunk half a bottle! - i gasped, turning to him.
He sat on the couch legs crossed with my bowl of popcorn watching me as if i was the crazy one.
- you have so many…. - he mumbled, throwing one popcorn on his mouth - also i wasn’t gonna drink much… but it was so weak, i had few more gulps.
Weak.
Half a bottle of jack was weak for him.
- this movie sucks… - he said, getting up.
- what?
My mind was failing to comprehend anything that was happening right now. Maybe i should call Jin.
- I’m calling your brother… - i said, making a turn to go on my room get my phone.
Before i could take even a single step towards my room i was pulled by the hand and turned towards the snake hybrid, he had a drunken smile on his lips while he looked down at me. Mischief shined through his dark eyes like never before - note to self: hide all the alcohol under my bed.
- lets play instead… - he suggested looking over the billiard table - if you win against me, you call Jin.
I scoffed.
- and supposedly if i don’t? - i said, closing my arms over my chest.
- i get to decide that later…. - he said.
- careful Yoongi…. - i warned - you learned this only yesterday.
- but i learned from you - he teased back.
- and i never lose…. - i said taking one cue stick, smothing the tip with the chalk.
This was going to be quick.
- who starts? - i asked, watching Yoongi fallow my moves getting a cue stick and smothing the tip with chalk.
- you start… pookie - he said.
I chuckled at the nickname. This snake hybrid has no idea was coming.
I position myself over the table aiming at the white ball, striking it quick at the color balls i put two whites on the wholes. A confident smirk rising up to my lips.
- sorry… looks like I’m wining already - i tease, walking around the table eyes looking straight into his.
If he was nervous or not i didn’t know he seemed to be focused on me only, but I couldn’t blame him. I was gonna win this in no time.
I position myself once again aiming for a ball closer to a corner whole and in the corner of my eye i notice Yoongi moving to the other side, now focusing back at my aim the cue stick slides between my fingers and just as I’m about to strike Yoongi corners me from behind hands over my hips making me lose completely my chance.
I scoffed turning to look at the sly snake behind me.
- ops… you missed that one - he smirked, pointing at my missed move.
- i wonder why?
- maybe you’re not that good after all…. - he mumbles, walking around the table to strike his move.
I wasn’t expecting him to get it on the first try and that was my mistake, he did learned from me after all.
He gets four balls in without missing after that, I swallowed hard feeling my pride hurt bit by bit. He just learned that how is he doing it as if he was born in a billiard table, i couldn’t believe it..
When he strikes another one I’m already moving towards the mini bar besides the tale, filling myself a cup and drinking all in one gulp. When I turn back Yoongi is watching me with a cunning smirk.
This sly snake was getting on my nerves - i never lose.
- is hot out of a sudden, don’t you think? - i say, playful. He stared the game going dirty and so will i.
Opening the bottoms of my blouse one by one I quickly take it off, keeping on the white crop top i wore to sleep. Putting my hair to the side to expose more of my shoulders.
- aren’t you gonna play? - i press, smiling innocently.
There was another minute he didn’t move, eyes staring me up and down while he licked over his bottom lip. He cleared his throat before positioning himself to strike, but just as i expected he missed.
- ops… - it was my turn to tease, positioning myself right beside him in strike my move.
Once i get my hands on to strike i never miss a single ball, i grew up playing this no one can beat me at my game. Right now i was almost finish, glancing up at Yoongi every now and then i notice he was starting to grow nervous. I wasn’t gonna call Jin anymore, after the first cup i drank another and another cup. I wasn’t weak for drinks, but i was having so much fun with Yoongi now i had long forgotten why i was even going to call Jin.
Two more balls in and i would win, so I position myself to strike the last colorful ball of mines.
- i could mate with you over this table…. - Yoongi mumbled more to himself but i heard exactly what he said.
It made me lose completely my chance to strike.
- maybe i should do that when i win this game - he looked up at me, smirk dancing in the corners of his lip placing the cue stick over the table.
He walked around the table towards me, like i was his prey in that moment and he was ready to take me as his victim. Yoongis words were like his poison, infiltrating my mind with thoughts I wouldn’t ever consider myself.
Like him bending me over this billiard table right now and doing everything he wants. Maybe I should let him win this time.
Once he was right there in front of me, he took the cue stick of my hand and placed over the table. Pushing me against the table with his body he rested his forehead over mine, hands falling over my hips he drew small circles with his thumbs.
- you win… - he whispered - but don’t call my brother, i feel like throwing up.
- that’s not because of Jin - i chuckled - you drank too much, come on… lets get you some meds pookie.
I caressed his face softly before taking his hand in mine to guide him back to the kitchen, my guess was that hybrids were much weaker for alcohol and it affected them much faster then for us humans. So i was quick to him some medicine before taking him with me to the couch and let him rest some more till he sober up.
It didn’t took him much longer before he was back at being his usual cute self and i finally found a movie to pass time, the popcorn was cold now but i still ate half of it.
The bowl of popcorn half empty sat on the small table in front of the couch, Yoongi was half asleep between my legs while I run my fingers thought his hair caressing the back of his neck every now and then.
I had a mind full of thoughts about today, i was sure that his het would start soon and after tonight that thought was rotted inside my head. Maybe the mention of mating tonight set that alarm in my head and I remember all what i was preparing myself for.
- you should tell me when you feel your heat coming - I tell him, quietly.
- what if I don’t? - he teased, lifting his head from my belly watching me attentively with a tired smirk over his pink lips.
- I’ll just found out on my own then - i shrugged.
- like you did before? - he chuckled.
- hey!
- for someone who knows so much about us it took you so long to find out i was in heat - he said.
- only because you were the first snake hybrid on my care - I explained - and you lied to me about it, remember?
- yeah… but I didn’t lied about yours - he says, eyes suddenly turning darker.
- well, I’m not… I mean, now… - I stumbled on my words, it felt so weird trying to explain him how different it happens for humans especially since is different from woman to men.
- I know, I can smell on your skin… - he said, making the curiosity go wild on my head.
- how? What does it smell like? - I ask - I truly can’t tell.
- humm… - he purrs lowly, supporting his hands at both sides of my head to pull himself up.
He leans down burring his face on my neck, taking a deep breath in.
- when your in heat, you smell like… lust - he whispers - and when you’re not, you smell like…
He moves away slowly, looking into my eyes eyebrows furred in concentration as if looking for the right words, lips half open over mine, the more seconds that went by the more he seemed to get lost in a maze.
- warmth… - he whispered - it makes me want to be completely stuck around your arms and never leave.
[…]
… 2 days later …
I could tell his heat was getting closer to a start after the two days that went by. Yoongi became insanely clingy the last couple days and It wouldn’t be a problem of course, but the snake hybrid simply decided to steal the keys of the apartment just so i wouldn’t leave and so far I wasn’t even able to step one foot out in the past days.
I searched the entire apartment already and I couldn’t find the damn keys, if only his behavior had stuck with the clingy part but he also became annoyingly a tease. In every sense.
His heat had already started and he could’ve taken me as his so many times, but i wasn’t ready and i kept pushing him away and not letting him sleep in my room. For that reason he’s been acting out on me ever since.
The mornings we used to share with innocent kisses and a light delicious breakfast, turned into make out sessions over the kitchen counter and nonstop teasing while i try to cook, our afternoons of binge watching dramas turned into marking and scenting sessions for him. But it was just the beginning, Yoongi could still control his rut pretty well and he used that against me every morning.
The first time he started to scent me was when everything went down hill and i knew it would only get harder for him to control it.
I trusted him to tell me when his heat begin to show so i could help him and I was confident it would take at least a few more days, that was my mistake. And again I didn’t notice the signs.
A few days ago when the weather had changed so drastically, it had been raining since late that morning. So the two of us decided to just cuddle on the couch for the rest of the day, i was usually the bigger spoon when we cuddle but the cold weather made me seek warmth on Yoongi. Not knowing what was going on with his sudden quietness i just brushed off as him being tired and held him tighter, every minute that passed I grew more sleepy from his soft caress on my back, hugging him and burning my face on the curve of his neck.
My body was just seconds before completely falling asleep when he moved, i groan against his chest in disagreement while he pulled me down with him between his legs.
He stared to softly place kisses over my cheek, down my jawline and brushing my hair away with his fingers to expose the skin of my neck. Kisses slowly fading into more needy touches while the second passes and I was complete unaware of it, until soft kisses turned into deep and wet ones.
I was fully alert and ready to lean away from him, my wrist was closed to his neck placed beside his head to support me up but he was quick to stop me as if predicting what I was going to do, he held my hand towards him to pull me back.
- just a little more…. - he murmured over my ear, voice soft but low and raspy as if he was drunk - I won’t do anything… just, stay a bit more like this….
He didn’t move until every part of my body fully gave in, he took his chance in that moment and bit into the curve of my neck. Not enough to sink his poison on me, just enough to leave a red mark on my skin for days.
After that he did let me go, but things were different now that his heat has stared. I wasn’t one to complain, i loved every minute i spent under his touch. He wanted to torture me for not letting him sleep beside me, but his ways of torturing consisted only on teasing me till I can’t take it and then leaving me all flustered.
It was late a night and i was getting ready to sleep already when i decided to questioned him about his heat. The door to his room was always open, i watched him from the corridor moving side to side before entering his room.
- are you okay with you heat? Do you think is gonna get bad any time soon?
- no… I can control it right now - he said, while picking a change of clothes to shower.
- okay… - I murmured looking around his room seeing as how neat everything looked - you didn’t make a nest?
He scoffed before turning around to fully look at me.
- i would… but someone doesn’t wanna let me sleep with her - he said, making my cheeks run hot.
Before I could even let another word leave my lips he was pulling his silky shirt off, making a mess of his hair and exposing all his torso to my eyes.
It was not something new to me but it always made me go insane how beautiful he looked, every time it felt like i was seeing him for the first time. His scales looked much healthier and shiny now, i notice how they seemed to have grown even more towards his v line. Shiny lines almost unnoticeable at how delicate they were on his milky skin, making he look like a diamond.
- wanna watch me undress? - he teased.
- is my house - I said back, eyes rooming every centimeter of his body shamelessly making him chuckle.
He walked towards me quickly closing the distance between us two, using his own body to push me against the wall.
Just like that all the air was gone from my lungs, the heat radiating from his body so intensely it felt like a warm blanket surrounded me. And again those dark glossy eyes were focus on mine like they used to at the clinic, making chills run wild down my spine.
Every part of my skin knew his touch so well and urged for him.
- I need my keys - I blurted nervously, finally remembering the reason why I came here.
- no… - he said.
- please Yoongi, I can’t be stuck here anymore… - I plead, finding the courage to look up into his intense eyes filled with darkness.
He didn’t say anything at first, the snake switched looks between my eyes and lips in that moment. Maybe calculating his options? Or just thinking about how he’ll tease me later for it.
- let me sleep with you from now on and I’ll tell you where they are - he said, a smirk filling his lips teasingly.
I took a deep breath before deciding on what to do, it had to happen sooner or later. I knew that. I just wished I could’ve prepared myself more for what was to come the moment i decided to let him in, the two of us kept saying it was all just for sleep but deep down it was obvious. The moment we are alone over that bed we wont be sleeping anymore.
- okay.
I needed the keys and in that moment I had no idea where that would even lead me, he said he had his heat under control and o trusted that. But far way in my mind something keeps telling me he was far away from any control.
- keys? - I asked, making his smile grow even more.
- my back pocket - he said, as if it wasn’t anything.
- no way… - i was not believing but he just shrugged at me still smirking - it was with you this whole time?
- put your hands inside it if you don’t believe me - he dared.
I swallowed hard blinking a hundred times - his back pocket, he meant his ass my keys were in his ass this whole time - before slowly moving my left hand towards his back pocket, face burning like a damn volcano about to explode. I couldn’t even look at his face in that moment, he knew exactly what he was doing.
I bit my bottom lip the second my hand slide down his ass, feeling the skin over the thin layer of his silky pants. Sucking in a breath as my eyes looked anywhere but the snake hybrid in front of me.
- oh… - i exale, looking straight back at him. It was empty.
He smirk grew wider, leaning even closer to me.
- wrong pocket.. - he whispered over my lips.
I swallowed hard again, looking down between us too nervous to stare into his dark glossy eyes but inhaling fast at the sight of his deep v line covered in scales so close to me.
No, i used to treat his wounds. I shouldn’t be nervous right now. This is nothing.
Body burning in nerves I reach for the other pocket with my right hand, feeling his minty breath brush against my face teasingly. Sliding my hand one more time down his ass, reaching inside his pocket.
He leaned closer making my attention go back to his face, this time he looked as nervous as I was. Eyes bearly open, bottom lip caged between his teeth.
The more my hand moved down his bum the harder he bit into the flash and just then I felt the cold metal of the keys and quickly grabbed them.
His expression changed fast after that, leaning away from me as quick as he could.
- we’ll sleep in your room… - he said, before turning away to leave for the bathroom.
[…]
After a long bath I went to check on Yoongi to see if he was still in his room but i didn’t find him there, going straight back to my own room while i tried to massage away the pain on my neck only to find the snake hybrid shirtless all spread over my bed.
- where your clothes? - I asked.
- don’t look at me like that…. - he said sitting up - everything felt itchy on my scales.
- oh…. Should I take a look at them for you? - I said making my way towards him, when my thumb pressed a painful spot on my neck i groan out in discomfort.
- no is fine… - he slides towards the end of the bed were I stood - what’s with your neck?
- I don’t know, i think I’ve slept in a bad position last night it’s hurting a lot now…. - I say - are you sure you’re fine? I can….
- I’m fine, come here - he interrupted me, pulling me by the hand making me straddle his waist.
- Yoongi….
- shh… - he smiled softly, pulling the hair away from my neck - let me take care of you, hum?
I blink nodding, watching his attention drift to my shoulder as he pulls the shirt slightly down to expose more of my neck. He begins to carefully press at the curve of my neck with his fingers, my body was immediately filled by relief as he worked his way around my neck and shoulder.
- I can feel some tension here… - he murmured pressing a bit harder at the curve, and my eyes rolled back in relief.
He chuckled lowly at my reaction, holding my hair away with his free hand to continue his work.
- if you had been sleeping with me you wouldn’t be sore like this… - he teased.
It was my turn to chuckle.
- lies… - I said, staring into his eyes.
He looked back with the same amount of dirtiness on his mind and I decided it was my turn to make him red.
- where’s my nest? - I asked, holding myself from bursting out laughing the second he catch what i said.
He looked extremely worried and embarrassed, almost chocking at his own words.
- oh my god…. - I laughed out, closing my arms around his neck - sorry pookie… I was just teasing.
I kissed his forehead.
- I’ll wait for you to make one for us… - I whispered to him.
- I thought you didn’t like them… - he confessed.
- what do you mean? I like it - I assure him, caressing the back of his neck. Resting my forehead on his.
In just seconds he had me pulled against him and turned us over the bed, hovering over me between my legs. A gasp had left my lips at the sudden movement, holding into him tighter until his eyes opened again staring down at mine in complete lust.
I didn’t expected him to act so quickly after asking for a nest jokingly, it was stupid of me.
He got up lazily eyes still glued in mine, I watch as he made his way towards the closet getting back with three more covers.
He was going to make a nest for me.
He dropped them at my feet before taking one at the time and laying them around me until he was satisfied with it, he had a focused expression on his soft features and then when he was finally done he looked me up before saying anything.
- I wanted this ever since I first saw you at the clinic… - he said, hovering over my body slowly - I want you for the rest of my life, y/n.
Staring into his glossy dark eyes once again, I’ve never felt more out of breath. Every moment with him had been so intense lately, as if all the cells in my body were anticipating this moment knowing what would happen, urging it to happen.
- bite me… - he whispered over my lips - like you did last time.
It was different than last time, at that time us being together was completely forbidden but now we are free, we have each other.
Pulling him closer I kissed his lips, not taking any more seconds. Groaning into his mouth every time his skin came in touch with mine, feeling shivers burning down my body never failing to drive me insane.
I was so high already and we had just stared, trailing my fingers down his back and earning a few groans from him. He bit into my bottom lip, leaning away just enough to stare into my eyes.
There was a different glow around him this time, something I haven’t seen before.
His chest moved against mine, hands sliding up and down my sides each time heavier and sometimes scratching over the layers of my clothes, teasing us both by dragging his own need to touch my skin.
The cold tip of his nose delicately moving against the side of my face, his hot breath slowly seeping through his lips over mine. The minty scent from his tongue danced over my lips deliciously but he didn’t do anything. He continued his soft tease, waiting for me to make his wish come true.
I slowly started to feel his back muscles, softly touching over the scales on his body. They felt so soft to touch just like the velvet we were surrounded by, each time I caressed them softly I would feel Yoongi swift over me slightly. His scales were one of his very sweet spots and he continued to squirm and sigh over me at every little touch, making me grow confident and needier.
He was starting to pant against my neck, groaning lowly making the need in me to tease and play him grow more and more. Remembering his little trick with my keys earlier, I let my hands travel down his spine and past his hips. The moment my hands slipped down his ass he squirmed harder, body falling completely over mine and a groan escaped his lips.
In that moment I bit into his shoulder, my teeth and tongue sliding over his skin sinking into his flesh harder just to licking over it. Carving a mark of my own on him.
- mine… - I whisper breathlessly over his ear.
- fuck… - he moaned over my neck, lifting himself enough to stare at my face.
He was biting his own lip, bruising himself enough to draw blood out of it. If it wasn’t now I would be worried for him but, he looked so handsome in such state of lust. I was completely lost in him, capturing his lips in a lustful kiss.
This time his hands had no mercy over my skin and i was completely sure I would find a few bruises here and there but I couldn’t care any less for it, I wanted them and I wanted him.
- mate with me… - he whispered over my lips completely out of breath - be mine y/n… I wanna do this with you, y/n.
I softly caressed his cheeks before nodding, he smiled before leaning down again leaving a long peck on my lips trailing down my jawline and towards my ear, bitting softly at my neck.
I knew what would come for me in that moment, it was a one way trip with no way back.
- make me yours… - I whispered in his ear.
Feeling the harsh bite over the skin under my ear, he sank his poison into it. The feeling was immediate, the first time the snake hybrid had bitten me was so painful and his poison was sickening but tonight it was completely different, I’ve never felt so high before like this before. Completely drunk on him so much even the smallest touch was enough to make me squirm and moan, just looking at him made me drool and needy.
He smirked knowingly traveling his kisses down my chest, hands sliding past my waist and stoping on my hips to grip into the flesh before sliding up inside my shirt.
Ripping off the fabric of my body with his hands, I breathed out lost in his arms. At the same time he was rough his touch was full of love on my skin, every part of me he gripped into he left a kiss over it.
He stares into my eyes with fondness, fingers running along my face pulling my up by the waist with his other hand, that way I’m sitting up with him on his knees between my legs.
I take the chance to run my fingers over his sides, feeling the scales under the tips of my fingers.
He cups my face kissing my lips hungrier, growling over my tongue. His raven hair is mess now, sweat drips down his neck and my fingers as I grip at his locks.
Bringing him closer I bite into his neck again, Yoongi gasp holding waist tighter and probably bruising the skin. But I couldn’t feel any pain, only the burning sensation all over my body driving my out of sense.
He stops the kiss, eyes locked over mine, seem to slightly go out of focus, a pool of stars all for me to stare into.
I push him down against the bed forcing him to lay down, slipping off my last piece of clothing before doing the same to his pants.
Crawling on all fours back to him, I watch as he stares at me in complete awe, Yoongi gulps down biting his on lip while he savor me with his eyes.
- you’re so fucking beautiful… - he murmurs. Eyes glued on me.
I chuckled at his reaction, running my fingers over his tights seeing how his dick twitches at the slightest touch before finally claiming his lips in a kiss.
He moans deeply pulling me closer.
- Mine… - he moans.
- all yours.
He pulls me by the thighs making me straddle his waist, feeling his hard dick press against my pussy deliciousy, sending us both into an overheated state.
I watch as Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut biting his lip as a groan escapes his chest, finger tips rubbing over my thighs leaving marks.
The burning sensation of the pain makes me move my hips against his instinctive, Yoongi’s eyelids flutter and his head tilt back as gasps make his chest heave up and down quickly. Another growl comes out of his chest and he moves his hips forward, the waves of pleasure seeping through my whole body making me shiver and lose control over my upper body, using my hands to keep me up against his chest, feeling how he breaths deep.
My eyes fluttered open to watch his lustful eyes in complete bliss, he squirms underneath me moaning out my name.
The sound of his voice sending shiver down my body, the feeling sends butterflies through my stomach. I let out a deep moan, grinding my hips into his. He growls, digging his nails into my thighs. Then sliding them upwards gripping my boobs, my own hands covering his for support as a continue to move against him.
Yoongi pulls me back against his chest, claiming my lips into a messy kiss. Stopping my hips from moving so he could slide inside me more easily, the feeling of his cock filling me up so good was making my head pound in arousal.
Yoongi moans loudly, trembling under my hands, lips searching for mine desperately, biting into the flesh of my shoulders sinking his poison into me while he moves his hips against mine, I pull the back of his hair biting my own lip in arousal moving my hips with his.
The pleasure is almost unbearable, so good every time I close my eyes I see stars, running my fingers through his raven hair holding him tight against me.
- breathe y/n…. - he whispers against my neck, sitting up in bed with me over him.
His hands grip my hips harder, his poison on my system was sending me into a frenzy of pleasure, each time, more.
- breathe… - he continued to whisper - just like that…
Not so long into that I feel my whole body shaking on top of him, knees starting to hurt from being like that for to long, but even the pain felt insanely good in that moment. Making me crawl into him more and more, he held me tighter before turning us around once again.
Hovering over my shaky body, Yoongi gripped into my hands as he pounded into me harder, throwing my head back while my knees are shaking in weakness, I moan out his name. Felling the dizziness claiming my body as he continued to pound at an animalistic force inside me.
- yoongi…. Fuck - I moan out, as he slides one hand between our bodies working his fingers over my clit.
- Y/n… fuck cum for me - he groans over my ear, circling over my clit with his fingers ripping a deep orgasm out of me.
- Yoongi…
But he doesn’t stop, even after he fills me so deep, I feel his cum dripping down my pussy. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, claiming my lips into a messy kiss he trails down my neck, leaving marks down my chest, sucking on a nipple.
- Yoongi… too much - I moaned out breathlessly.
I couldn’t make a single thought in my head and I loved it, my legs were shaking from his fingers circling over my clit nonstop, body aches tiredly but it felt so insanely good.
Yoongi growls, forces you closer pulling my thigh with his free hand as he he worked his way down my body with his tongue, leaving wet kisses everywhere.
- fuck… - it escapes my lips once I figure out what he was planning.
How he wasn’t tired after almost fucking me into oblivion, I didn’t know, but I was so grateful.
Ending his trail over my pussy he leaves a long lick down to the bottom of it, making me instantly arch my back.
Yoongi forcibly pulls on my thighs against his shoulders, locking me completely down and starts his feast on my pussy.
- fuck, Yoongi… - I cry out name, fingers gripping his hair.
The feelings is so insanely good, I moan and mutter words uncontrollably, words that make no sense to me, but feel so good, screaming his name out loud, shit, the neighbors will definitely file a complaint against me.
The sounds he was making driving me to the absolute bottom of the hill, gripping into his hair, myself and digging my nails over my skin.
- too much… fuck - my knees were shaking again and he didn’t stop, holding me closer.
Yoongi is sucking on my clit so harshly I started to fear he might bruise it down there as well. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it my body started to convulse, the delicious sensation began again to fill me up and I’m cursing and squirting all over him.
Yoongi sits up with a groan, he touches his own face, picking up the remains of my orgasm of his face, licking his fingers as I watched him completely fucked out.
Chest rising up and down tiredly, he hovers over me, hooking his fingers behind my neck just to pull me closer resting his forehead over mine.
- fuck me… - he moaned out, making me look up at him.
- You’re crazy - I tell him breathlessly, we both chuckled.
- Please… - he plead, pulling me in to claim my lips in a desperate kiss.
Yoongi grips my waist pulling me to the side as he lays down on his, he whimpers against my lips in a sloppy kiss, hands gripping every inch of skin.
He tugs me closer to his aching cock, holding my hips firmly to move against him. The friction is insanely good.
- you smell so fucking good…. - he mumbles - please, y/n, fuck me…
He buries his face between my boobs planting kisses over them.
- fuck you’re insane, Yoongi - I moan, gripping his hair.
Yoongi whimpers pulling me tighter against him, holding my hips to make me rut against his cock. I pushed him down while fixing myself between his legs, hovering over his body a begin to plant kisses over his neck, leaving sloppy licks over his scales.
His chest started to move up and down rapidly, he purrs deeply when I wrap my hand around his cock, feeling how he throbs under my touch.
He squeezes my hips, sweet whimpers leave his lips and I watch with pleasant eyes the snake hybrid squirm in front of me as I start jerking him off quickly, making he growl my name before returning to the slow peace of before.
He whines, throwing his head back.
- is this good my Yoongi? - I tease, watching he squirms as a reaction.
- So good… oh, so good y/n - he groans, barely keeping his eyes open - please, fuck..
- What is it baby? What do you want? - I taunt moving my hand terribly slow over his cock.
- Wanna… fuck, wanna cum… - he moans, trembling when I start jerking him off quickly.
His pretty cock spits pre cum, the sounds of my hand moving around his throbbing head driving us both insane, the moment he started squirming I knew he was getting closer.
- yes, yes… y/n you’re so good - he moans, hands gripping the covers.
- Cum baby, make a mess for me.
He starts to moan my name repeatedly, bitting his own lip until his legs are shaking, cock throbbing under my fingers while leaking his cum all over himself.
I run my hand over his belly covered on his milk, spreading it on his abs before moving closer, pressing my lips against the curve of his neck.
- such a good boy… my Yoongi - I praise, leaving kisses alone his jawline.
- - that was so good… - he mumbles, closing his arms around my body in a hug.
- Humm… you are insane - I said against his chest, running my fingers over his shoulder.
- I’m yours - he state, making me look up into his eyes.
- I’m yours too - I whisper over his lips, softly claiming his between mine.
He pulled me over his chest and we cuddled together, finally letting the tiredness begin to kick and let us get some sleep.
And tomorrow I would wake up happy, knowing it would be in his arms. Forever.
Taglist: @yoongiwantsme @effielumiere @danielle143 @dragons-flare e @awanderingangel @blue-and-grey-army @crystallizedtime @fairywriter-oracle @rosquilleta @m4gg13-g @unadulteratedlyunique e @kpopmultistantrashsstuff f @anaspectoflife @younhakim29 @yoongislatinagff @kimsonlyluv @slut-4-yourmom @illnevertrustmyselfagain @bangchanbabygirlx @itsskyvoltage @welcometomyworld13 @momnomnom @honsoolgloss @kimtaehussy @amariemoore @starrlo0ver r @whipwhoops s @glosstwn @i-have-no-life-charlie @kooslilhoe e @catlove83 @tarahardcore e @liveyun @4ukiyo4 @sukonsukuna a @passionandsuga @missroro @btspurplesky @watermelon2319 @mukeovernetflix @lopprhe e @acquiescence804 @locket-hrt @myspi2010 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @armydgirl l l @jaxyy219 @viankiss @shycreationdreamland @the-reas0n-is-y0u @nothingsreal420 @sckalykoko @lucis-noctiana
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the lingerie era | myg
🦋pairing: neighbor!yoongi x reader (f)
🦋genre: smut, fluff, f2l, neighbor!au, childhoodfriend!au, best friend’s older brother, lingeriemodel!reader
🦋summary: Sending Min Yoongi, aka your ridiculously hot neighbor/childhood friend, a photo of yourself in lingerie might be the best or stupidest mistake you’ve ever made.
🦋word count: 10.1k
🦋warnings: fingering, oral (m receiving), corruption kink, gagging, deepthroating...? rough sex w/protection, implied masturbation (m), light degradation, the way oc becomes a slut for his cock so quick, yoongi touches boobies, nipple play, dirty talk, yoongi teasing reader for 4263 years straight bc he's mean
a/n: this is the extended version of the airdrop incident! if you haven't read that drabble already, it's fine bc that scene is included in this one!💖
An onlooker might be wondering why you’re standing outside your neighbor’s door at ass o’clock in nothing but an oversized tee, but the answer is simple. Mistakes were made. You’re an idiot.
Approximately five minutes ago, you thought it’d be cute to send your best friend Mo a photo from your first day at your new job. But it wasn’t just any photo. It was a photo of you in strappy black lingerie, lying on beige silk sheets all glowy and oiled up. You’re gazing up into the camera lens like it’s the dark eyes of a man about to rail you.
As weird as it sounds to be sending that kind of photo to your best friend, you’ve known her your entire life and she’s always been the number one supporter of your modeling career. In fact, she’s the one who bugged you for the pics in the first place.
You have no regrets for wanting to share the photo with your best friend. You just hate yourself for thinking it’d be fine to AirDrop it since she lives right next door. In your defense, your company is paying for your work phone—the new iPhone—and you were eager to play around with all the random features you won’t otherwise be using. Besides, AirDrop has a small range and Mo is your neighbor, so it was the perfect opportunity to test it out. In theory, she would’ve received the photo no problem—if she were actually home.
But Mo wasn’t home. You’d realized that too late after the AirDrop had gone through to someone else. Mortified is an understatement of how you felt when she sent a text saying, “GIRL;;;; I’m at Namjoon’s place rn;;;; I am NOT in AirDrop range🥲”
For a good two minutes, you were convinced it must’ve been some creepy stalker who’d accepted your AirDrop… or the sweet elderly lady who lives across the street and occasionally drops off a tray of baked goods. You could totally see her accidentally accepting the AirDrop, only to be blindsided and violated by that photo of you. There’s no way in hell you’ll be able to return her sparkly red reindeer platter from her last cookie delivery. Not after she’s seen you like that.
But then an even darker thought came to mind. And you’d take creepy stalker or innocent granny over that any day.
That’s how you ended up on your neighbor’s doorstep at ass o’clock.
After letting you stand out in the cold for a whole ass minute, he finally answers the door. “He” as in Min Yoongi, your childhood friend slash nemesis, the older brother of your best friend, or, in the simplest terms, your hot neighbor.
And when you say “hot,” you mean really hot. Your innocent little crush on him was cute when you were ten, but the admiration has since evolved into pure lust. You’ve admittedly thought about him in ways you should not be thinking about a childhood friend let alone your best friend’s brother.
Whenever you catch a glimpse of his big hands, you wish they were on your body, you wish his long veiny fingers would curl inside you, and the tiniest part of you wishes he wasn’t someone you had a long history with. You always feel like you have to be on your toes around him because of that history. Because you know it can all fall apart with one wrong move—like accidentally sending him a suggestive lingerie photo. Oops.
“Yes?” he raises a brow, staring at the way you’re shivering outside his door, the way your perky nipples are most definitely poking through your shirt. You’re sure he sees it all. But given the fact that he’s practically seen you naked, you don’t even bother covering up. What’s the point?
“Did you, by chance, get an AirDrop like five minutes ago?” you get straight to the point. It’s fucking freezing, after all. He could’ve at least asked you to come inside for a sec. You would’ve declined to avoid the risk of temptation, but still.
“Depends,” he hums, eyes still very much on your chest. The boy has no shame apparently. You’re pretty sure he’s dating that pretty brunette you’ve seen sneaking in and out of his house lately, so why’s he looking at you like that? “What was the AirDrop?”
“A picture of me,” you mumble. It was freezing a minute ago, but now your face feels hot. That’s weird.
“Hmm, not sure if the one I’m thinking of is you or not.” The bastard puts on his most exaggerated thinking face—like that emoji with the hand on his chin. You hate him. “What were you wearing?”
“Nothing!” you squeak at him. Both of you know no one fucking uses AirDrop except old people. He’s obviously playing dumb and knows what’s going on. He just wants to hear it from your mouth to make his ego bigger than it already is. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Pretty sure you were wearing something…” he furrows his brow, unlocking his phone to “confirm” what he saw. You snatch the phone out of his hand, but he seems to remember the contents of the photo just fine. “Ah, yes. Black strappy lingerie, right? I didn’t know you were like that, Y/N.”
“Fuck you,” you hiss as you scroll through and search for the picture in question. AirDrop must have its own stupid section on the phone because you can’t find it anywhere.
“Relax, I already deleted it,” he chuckles at how determined you are. You’re not falling for it. Surely he’s already leaked the photo on OnlyFans. You don’t have a whole lot of faith in Min Yoongi. He’s never been The Nice Guy. “Who were you trying to send it to?”
“None of your business.” He has a girlfriend, after all. Why should he care about who you’re sending those kinds of pictures to?
“My sister?”
“Fine. Yes, her.”
“You’re sneaking around sending nudes to my sister? On AirDrop?” he narrows his eyes. Why does he seem more disgusted at the AirDrop part? You’d laugh if you weren’t so stressed. “She’s in a very committed relationship, you know.”
“I’m aware.” You don’t know what’s worse—him thinking you’re hitting on his sister aka your best friend, or admitting the pic was from a photoshoot for your new job. There are no winners here. Might as well come clean. “She’s the one who asked for pics so she could fangirl over her lingerie model best friend.”
“My little Y/N grew up and became a lingerie model?” He tilts his head, intrigued. He might’ve deleted the pic from his phone, but you bet the image is forever ingrained in that fuckboy head of his. You wonder how his girlfriend feels about him thinking of other girls in that context. You’d feel shitty. He’s a horrible boyfriend. “In that case, I’d also like to show support. Mind if you send the pic ag—”
You cut him off with a growl. His eyes slowly work their way up your bare legs to your chest to your death glare.
“I kid, I kid.” He waves his hands like a white flag so you don’t pounce on him. But then something occurs to him. His smug look turns into a frown. “Wait, so AirDropping it to me wasn’t ‘an accident’?” he asks with air quotes.
“No, it was a real accident, Yoongi,” you scoff. You can’t believe he thought you’d intentionally sent that pic to him. He’s so full of himself. He’s the last person you’d ever want to see those pics.
“Well that’s no fun.”
“Elaborate.”
“It would’ve been kinda cute if you did it to get my attention,” he shrugs, leaning his head against the doorframe. “Just like when we were younger. Remember how you’d always tug on my arm and pout until I acknowledged you?”
“No, but it’s kinda weird that you remember it.” You finally cross your arms in front of your chest. “It’s also kinda weird that you want my attention when that’s what your girlfriend is there for.”
“It’s kinda weird that you keep up with my love life and know I have a girlfriend,” he fires back at you in his usual arrogant tone. “I’m breaking up with her, by the way. Just in case you wanted to know.”
You pause the petty war for a second. Min Yoongi is breaking up with his girlfriend because you accidentally sent him one (1) risqué photo of yourself? To be fair, you do look pretty hot in that photo. But still! You’ve known the guy your whole life, and all it’s ever amounted to was banter with a hint of feelings and dirty thoughts on your end. You’d always assumed Yoongi thought of you as nothing more than his little sister’s friend. Surely he’s just toying with you right now. Because that’s what fuckboys do.
That’s what Min Yoongis do.
“Good to know,” you nod, the cold breeze coming back. You better leave now before you do something stupid again. Stupid AirDrop. “Well, I’m gonna go now. It’s fucking cold.”
You drop his phone into his palm, your fingers grazing his in the process. They’re so warm. But your fluffy blanket is warmer. And it’d never betray you.
“Thanks for only being a slight dick about the pic,” you say, scurrying off to your doorstep.
“Anytime,” he smirks. Asshole. “I’ll AirDrop you later.”
“I don’t want your dick pics, sir.” You hear his laugh before closing the door.
A minute later, you get an AirDrop of what you hope is not in fact a dick pic. You accept it immediately. It’s a blurry selfie of him on his bed, flipping you off with an emphasis on how much extra mattress space he has. That has to be the quickest breakup of all time. They don’t call him a fuckboy for nothing.
He accompanies the selfie with a simple text:
Yoongi🗿 [2:03AM] “Your loss”
The rest of the night is spent staring at the extra space next to him on his bed. He’s taunting you. Teasing you. Tempting you to do something you’ll surely regret. Well, you’re not taking the bait. The accidental AirDrop was an honest mistake, but this one would be all on you. Because you understand the risks.
It’s best to keep things how they are between you two.
After a night of tossing and turning, your week somehow gets worse. Your car decides to malfunction fifteen minutes before you’re supposed to be at work. You swear it was working perfectly yesterday. Then again, you don’t know shit about cars.
Your first instinct is to call Mo. You like to think of yourself as a prepared person, but shit happens. And when shit happens, Mo is your person—your one phone-a-friend. But you know she’s with Namjoon, and you know she’d drop everything including him for you—you’d do the same for her. You’d rather not be a cockblock when things are going so well for them.
Alternatively, you would’ve borrowed your parents’ car, but they moved into a nicer place a few years ago and reluctantly left you behind after a lot of convincing on your end. You can handle yourself, you told them. And it was going great—until The AirDrop Incident happened and your car refused to start up for no fucking reason.
Uber and public transportation are other options, but you don’t have time to wait for those rides to arrive. You need to leave in the next 30 seconds or risk being late. Your new job is on the line here.
And that’s why you find yourself, once again, at Min Yoongi’s doorstep. You hate it here.
He opens the door and blinks his heavy lids at you several times before saying anything. Poor boy. The morning sun is too bright for him, like a cat waking up from its first nap of the day. And yet, he still manages to look so attractive with that messy hair and furrowed brow. You bet the raspiness in his voice is even more seductive in the morning. It is.
“Are we really doing this again?” he asks, pointing his finger back and forth between you and him. At least he’s awake enough to realize shit like this shouldn’t be happening two days in a row. You’re sick of it too.
“I need to be at a shoot in like ten minutes, and my car is fucked up right now, so…” You wish the boy would finish the sentence for you, but he’s just standing there like a smug ass. You’d shove him over, but you’re going to be late and he’s your only option. So you swallow your pride, just this once. “Do you think you can give me a ride?”
He makes some sort of grunt and says, “I’ll be out in a sec,” before shutting the door in your face. You’ll take that over the teasing you were expecting. Must be too early for the banter.
As soon as you get into his car, you realize you were horribly wrong. The false sense of security got you good. Apparently, it’s never too early for banter.
“What would you do without me, hm?” he asks, looking more awake and alive than ever before. Glowing, even. You knew it. He gets a kick out of you needing his help. He’s always been like this. One time when you were seven, your dumb ass climbed up a tree and got stuck up there like a cat. He’d only helped you down after you begged him for ten minutes straight. And although he stood right below you to break your fall in the unlikely event that you slipped, he also had a big fat smile on his face the entire time. He’s the worst.
“I’d manage.”
“I’m sure you would, Y/N.” He doesn’t sound very convinced. Kind of like your parents before they agreed to trust you on your own. “So, what’s this about lingerie and modeling?”
“Got a problem with it?” you challenge him. The very reason you haven’t told anyone else about your job aside from your best friend is that fear of judgment. As far as your parents know, you do modeling for a trendy clothing brand (you do). They just don’t know about your side hustle. You’re sure a guy like Yoongi has no problem with it, though. In fact, last night he sounded awfully eager to support your new job because it just so happens to center around two of his favorite things—tits and ass.
“Not at all,” he hums. “Just curious how it happened.”
“My ex had connections to the company,” you say.
“And you dumped him after he got you a job?” He raises his brow and laughs. What’s he so amused about? “Kind of savage, Y/N.”
“Actually, he broke up with me,” you correct him. How dare he assume you’re the savage one.
“Why would he do that?” he asks, as if it’s not normal for people to break up. Maybe it’s just his protective gene kicking in. He was the same way when he heard about your first breakup years ago.
“He said I wasn’t giving him enough,” you shrug. You’re honestly not too upset about it. It’s not like you had enough time to get attached to him anyway.
“Giving him enough what? Head?”
You glare at the boy even though you really want to laugh. He’s not entirely wrong.
“Sorry.” He does a quick glance at you as he turns the corner. Still smiling, though. “Well, if I had to guess, it had something to do with you playing hard to get.”
“I do not play hard to get,” you say with a firm hmph.
“You’re certainly not making it easy now,” he frowns. Okay, maybe he has a point. But in your defense, the trait rubbed off on you from Yoongi himself. You spent your entire childhood chasing after him and wound up with nothing. You worked your ass off for any sort of reciprocated feelings from him, only for him to continue to treat you like an annoying child as you both grew older.
By the time college came around, you were tired of doing all the chasing and thought you’d finally outgrown that neediness for him. You told yourself it was better that way, to keep him as nothing more than a bittersweet childhood memory. And you moved on. For once, you just wanted to be desired and admired by someone as deeply as you’d felt for Yoongi.
And when you think about it, all of your past relationships might have relied too much on the thrill of the chase. You never thought about what came after. You never envisioned a future beyond the chase. That’s why those relationships were so quick to fizzle out. You didn’t give them a reason to stick around.
You didn’t give them enough.
Yoongi unlocks the doors as he pulls up in front of the building for the shoot. You unbuckle your seatbelt and thank him on the way out like he’s your Uber driver.
But then he goes off script. “When should I pick you up?”
You weren’t expecting a ride home. After your car died on you, you’d immediately changed from your cute ankle boots into sneakers in preparation for the long walk home after work. In fact, you would’ve opted to walk to work too if you had enough time. Like you said before, you can handle yourself just fine. Ever since you found your footing as a model and started living alone, you’ve stopped relying on anyone else.
“No need. I’ll walk home,” you gently decline, kicking your white sneakers up for him to see.
Still, you can’t pretend like it doesn’t feel nice that the boy offered you another ride. It’s a subtle gesture, but it lets you know he’s watching out for you. There’s at least one person you can count on, even when your best friend and family aren’t around. And that’s already more than you could ever ask for.
“We can grab dinner after,” he suggests, leaning his arms against the steering wheel. You know exactly what he’s doing—playing to your weakness and bribing you with food. Because that’s the one thing you rarely ever say no to. You’ve always been that way.
“Okay, sure. I’ll be done around six.”
It’s fine. You’ll pay for his meal as thanks for the rides. Then you’re even.
The first half of the shoot goes well. The lingerie they’ve picked out for you is super pretty, and the assistant said you get to keep your favorite set after the day wraps up. Right now, you’re feeling pretty fucking good despite the stressful night and morning you had.
During your lunch break, you find some shameless texts waiting for you.
Yoongi🗿 [10:34AM] “My friend would like you to send pics of your wardrobe😌”
Yoongi🗿 [10:34AM] “For science”
For science. Your smile flattens just a little. You get that he’s just teasing you, but part of you really wonders if he’s only paying this much attention to you because of your job and the picture you’d AirDropped to him. All you are to him is a hot body to look at. That’s the only reason he broke up with his girlfriend, isn’t it?
If you hadn’t been a dumbass and sent him that photo, he would’ve simply dropped you off at work like the silent Uber driver he was supposed to be. And that would’ve been the end of it. There wouldn’t have been a “let’s get dinner after” or a “send pics of your skimpy lingerie.”
And yet, this is exactly what you’d been yearning for since age five—his attention.
If you really wanted to, you could play along and send him a teaser of the lingerie you decided to take home—a polka-dot mesh set that is very seethrough. You could even drop it in his lap when he picks you up later and tell him it’s a souvenir. That’d get his attention for sure.
But you’re not going to do that. Obviously. Instead, you send him a boring pic of a rack with empty hangers. Because that’s playing it safe.
Yoongi🗿 [12:58PM] “Going nude today?”
Yoongi🗿 [12:58PM] “Or are those micro thongs getting smaller?🧐”
Yoongi🗿 [12:59PM] “Hello”
You wheeze. He’s lucky you’ve known him since birth. If it were any other guy, you’d ghost him for saying shit like that. Then again, he’s only saying it because he knows he can get away with it with you.
Y/N🐣 [1:00PM] “i have to get back to work now🫡”
When you finally reach the homestretch of the shoot, you’re tired and more than a little hungry. It’s been a long day, but you want to finish strong before indulging in a nice dinner with you-know-who. You decided you want to take him to your favorite new sushi spot. Not because you know he loves sushi but because it’s what you happen to be craving today.
While sitting down on the fluffiest rug your ass has ever felt, you model a pretty white set with lots of ties like a bikini. Just a few more photos to go, and then you can get your sushi with your Uber driver. But then your starved brain starts to fuck with you.
Just off to the side behind the camera, you see a shadow that looks a lot like Yoongi. You know it’s not actually him, though. It’s just a hallucination spawning from your cravings. Your cravings for sushi, you clarify to yourself.
Then the shadow crosses his arms and smirks as you get on your knees and press an innocent finger to your bottom lip like you’re just asking for your mouth to be filled. As soon as the camera captures a few shots, your eyes dart back to check on the shadow. He gives you a thumbs up.
That’s not a shadow.
Suddenly, your cheeks are hot and your chest is pounding. He’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to focus when you know your childhood friend is watching? You have all these eyes on your body as it is, but he’s the only one that really gets you flustered. More flustered than your first day on the job here.
“Can we redo that shot one more time, please?” the photographer asks. “Relax your shoulders a bit, honey.”
You drop your shoulders, but that’s not going to hide the way your heart is practically pounding out of your chest that you know he’s got his eyes glued to.
“Actually, can I take a quick water break?” You shoot up from the rug, take a long sip of water, grab your thin little robe, and drag your unwanted visitor off to the side.
“Hi to you, too,” he says, glancing down at the way your fingers wrap around his wrist.
“What are you doing here?” Your shaky tone screams of unease. When he said he’d pick you up, you weren’t expecting him to actually go in like a parent picking up their kid from school. He was supposed to stay put in his car where you’d meet him after work. That was the plan. Not this.
He studies your face as if he’s debating whether or not you’re being serious right now, as if he expected you to be happy to see him. After building up the anticipation for several seconds more, he has the audacity to say, “Just here to show my support for my lingerie model neighbor.”
Why did you even bother asking? You should’ve known. He just confirmed what you’d hoped wasn’t true. He’s only paying any attention to you because of that dirty image you ingrained in his head with that dumb AirDrop.
And to be honest, you’re kind of over it. Maybe it’s just your empty stomach raging, but he should know that this is crossing the line. He’s your neighbor for crying out loud. He’d seen you lose your two front teeth, gone trick-or-treating with you, witnessed your awkward teen phase, and all that other wholesome childhood shit. Sure, he gave you a hard time every step of the way, but his presence in your life and the memories you made together were all you ever wanted to protect.
That’s why you chose to stay behind when your parents moved away. You were fine with being away from your own family, and you were even fine when Mo started spending more time with Namjoon. But Yoongi has always been a different case.
You gave up on seeing him in a romantic way after realizing it just wasn’t realistic. If you’d let yourself feel that way any longer, he’d eventually have to reject you, and then that would be the end of it. And you’d much rather keep him in your life than risk it all with a dumb confession of unrequited love. He doesn’t love you, and you’re okay with that.
You just wish he wouldn’t make it so painfully obvious that it’s only your body that he’s after. Because that’s when it might be easier on your heart to cut ties with him.
“I work better when you’re not here.” You let go of his wrist and don’t look up from the red mark your tight grip left on his pale skin. You’re not going to let his charm sway you. He needs to leave. Nothing good can come out of him being here.
So he backs away and leaves.
As you tie your sneakers and refill your water bottle in preparation for the long walk home, you let out a big sigh. Looks like you won’t be getting your sushi fix tonight. Stupid AirDrop.
You wave bye to the crew and claim your free lingerie before stepping outside. To your surprise, it’s already dark out even though you thought the sun wasn’t supposed to set until seven. If you squint hard enough, you swear you can see Yoongi’s car parked in the lot.
So you try not to squint.
But as soon as you walk past the car, your feet make a u-turn until you can see the boy leaning back in his seat, eyes closed and arms folded against his chest. You might still be upset, but you can’t deny how good-looking he is. It’s not fair. The only reason you stop staring is to avoid judgment from anyone passing by. And because you kind of need to talk to him.
You knock on the window on the passenger side.
He doesn’t even flinch.
You knock again. Still nothing. Either he’s dead, or he’s just fucking with you. He better not be fucking with you when you’re mad. Read the room, asshole.
Trying your best not to throw your phone at his window, you instead use it to call him. His phone screen blinds you as it flashes on in the darkness and vibrates against his thigh.
This time you catch the slightest twitch of his pretty pink lips. They’re glowing in the light of his phone screen.
You walk around to the driver’s side and get a better look at his glowy handsome face. “I know you’re awake.”
Now he has a full smile to accompany his closed eyelids, cosplaying as a happy corpse.
You roll your eyes at him and start walking in the opposite direction. “All good, I’ll just walk home.”
The doors unlock real quick. The corpse snaps out of his eternal slumber. “Hey, I was kidding,” he calls out the window. “Come back here.”
For the second time in the past three minutes, you make a u-turn toward his car. But this time, you hop in, hesitant to look him in the eye.
“I didn’t think you’d still be waiting here…” You bite your lip. You wish he weren’t still here. Then you wouldn’t be forced to talk about what happened earlier. It’d be much easier to not talk about your feelings.
“You agreed to grab dinner with me afterward, didn’t you?” He’s acting like you didn’t banish him from the building twenty minutes ago. He’s acting like you could’ve told him to never speak to you again and he’d still be waiting here because of some promise you’d both made earlier in the day. He would’ve been waiting here for you no matter what.
Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten that upset. Time to go in over-two-decades-of-history-preservation mode.
“Yeah but… I kind of overreacted earlier. Then again, I don’t know how else I’m supposed to react when my neighbor sees me half-naked,” you say, shrinking in your seat. “I still meant what I said, though. I work a lot better when you’re not around because you make it hard to focus.”
You immediately regret admitting that last bit.
“It’s understandable that you get so flustered around me. Kind of cute, too,” he hums like he just won the lottery. Mother fucker. “But I should’ve just been honest with you earlier.”
“What do you mean?” You tilt your head like a lost puppy.
“Someone obviously hasn’t checked their phone in a while,” he chuckles, pointing to the pink phone resting atop the mesh lingerie in your bag. You grab your phone and shove the lingerie deeper into your bag until it’s out of his view. Hopefully, he didn’t notice.
Sure enough, you have more unread texts waiting for you beneath the thirsty ones from lunch.
Yoongi🗿 [6:29PM] “Is the shoot running late?”
Yoongi🗿 [6:29PM] “No rush btw. Just want to make sure you didn’t die in the bathroom or something haha”
Yoongi🗿 [7:01PM] “So should I be concerned or”
Yoongi🗿 [7:02PM] “Just to clarify, I don’t believe you’re deceased in the bathroom”
Yoongi🗿 [7:02PM] “But I am gonna go in and check lol”
Then you realize how late it is. It’s over an hour past the time you told Yoongi you’d be done. No wonder it’s fucking dark out.
Your whole mind is spinning, and you have a lot of questions. You turn to him, and the first thing you ask is, “You thought I died in the bathroom?”
“You were running late, not responding, and, well… I had to check,” he shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t know the lady at the front desk was going to bring me right to the shoot.” So he had good intentions after all. He wasn’t just after your body—far from it, in fact. He was genuinely worried about you.
Well, shit. Now you look like the asshole for telling him to fuck off after he thought to check up on you like a guardian angel. He should’ve just said so in the first place. But maybe it’s hard for him to admit that sort of thing, too. You can relate.
You still feel bad, though. Doubt had clouded your better judgment because of your own insecurities. You didn’t believe what he was doing for you was unconditional. But the truth is, he cares about you more than you know. He always has.
Was Yoongi completely and utterly crushed after you’d asked him to leave your photoshoot? Yes. But he wasn’t going to show that to you. After all, as far as you knew, he’d only dropped by to check you out in that pretty lingerie. That’s always been his biggest downfall. He’s never been fully honest with you. It’s understandable that you’d be frustrated with him.
You had every right to be mad at him for interfering with your work. You had every right to walk away right past his car after the shoot. And yet, you still chose to sit down beside him to salvage whatever it is between you and him. It’s always been complicated like this, but it’s worth all the petty bickering you guys do on a daily basis. Seeing you so flustered and cute makes it all worth it.
The last thing he wants is for you to slip through his fingers. Because a world without you would just be weird. And boring. And lonely.
And now you’re rambling on about sushi—his favorite food. You claim you’ve been craving it all day, but it’s not very convincing.
“Hey, the sushi place is the other way,” you frown as he turns left instead of right. “You’re the worst Uber driver ever. I’m leaving you a one-star review.”
“I thought you didn’t like sushi,” he points out, completely ignoring your Karen threat.
“Yeah, when I was like ten. I’m allowed to change what I like, aren’t I?” You make a good point. Maybe your taste buds have changed and you aren’t just catering to his preferences. But it’s in his nature to keep pushing your buttons, to keep getting a reaction out of you. That’s the one thing he knows will never change between you and him.
“You were cuter when you didn’t like sushi.”
“Fuck you.” You turn your head away from him and toward the window to hide your face. He can still see your reflection, though. For such harsh words, your expression is soft.
It’s funny because that’s what Yoongi has always liked most about you. You’re a tough cookie—you know it, he knows it, everyone knows it—but the best cookies are the ones with soft centers. And he loves to devour and savor that soft side you only seem to show him.
About ten minutes later, he pulls up to a drive-thru you’ll surely recognize. He doesn’t go there often himself, but whenever he does, he’s reminded of those Halloween nights spent scaring the shit out of you before spending his allowance to buy you a kid’s meal with a dumb light-up pumpkin toy. He’s reminded of the time you broke up with your first boyfriend and needed someone to rant to over vanilla milkshakes and fries. He’s reminded of the past two decades the two of you shared together, no matter how silly or short-lived the moments were. He’s cherished all of it.
It might not be the sushi you’d hoped for, but your eyes light up when you see the fast food sign. You lean in closer to him to get a better look at the menu. Today you smell like fruit and—he goes in for another sniff by your neck, purely to identify the intoxicating scent you’re wearing—something floral.
“Ooh, order me the nugget combo with an iced coffee,” you finally glance at him, mid-sniff, with the eyes of an angel. He knew you’d appreciate the fast food.
“You and your nuggets. What are you? A baby?” he chuckles before being greeted and prompted to order over the speaker. “Can we get a burger combo with iced coffee, one kid’s meal with nuggets and milk—”
You give his shoulder a small shove.
He smirks but otherwise continues on as if nothing happened, “—and a nugget combo with iced coffee.”
“So a total of two combos and one kid’s meal?” the employee double-checks.
“Actually—”
“Yeah,” he cuts you off and drives to the pick-up window before you could protest and cancel the kid’s meal order.
“Why do you need a kid’s meal?” you mumble as the employee hands off the big bag of food to Yoongi. You’re so cute when you’re pouty.
“It’s for you, obviously.” He pulls into a spot in the empty lot and takes a sip of his coffee.
“Why do you always treat me like a baby?” That’s the question you ask as you take the kid’s meal box from his hand and start snacking on the few nuggets it comes with.
Because you’re tiny and cute and need to be protected at all costs, he wants to say. Instead he goes with the safer option. “Because you’re my little sister’s friend.”
“But Mo’s rarely ever around anymore. I feel like I’m spending more time with you than her at this point.” That’s true. Her and Namjoon have basically become inseparable. That must suck at least a little for you.
“I personally wouldn’t let that slide.” As much as Yoongi loves his sister and knows she’d do anything for you if you asked, he also knows you’re not the type to reach out unless you really need to. If Mo understood you the way he understands you, she’d know to check in with you, to send you the occasional random meme in case you’re having a bad day, and to remind you that you aren’t alone.
But that’s where he comes in.
“It’s fine, I’m happy for her and Namjoon. Last I heard, she’s waiting for the proposal.” You set down the empty kid’s meal box and move on to your actually dinner. He has to resist the urge to pick the little nugget crumb off the corner of your lips.
“You don’t feel left behind?” he asks. It’s crazy to think his little sister could be getting married soon. Meanwhile, he’s watched you cycle through several boyfriends without much luck. His own love situation isn’t much different, but that’s what happens when no relationship has inspired him to do the things he does for you. Your presence in his life is more than just love and lust.
Everything you are to him is unconditional.
You shake your head at his question as you glance up at the stars through the windshield. “There’s only one person I’d ever feel left behind by.”
If it’s not Mo or your family, then surely it’s the guy you’ve been chasing after all these years, the guy who teases you because you have a cute pout, the guy who’s been with you every step of the way. The one guy you didn’t want to see your lingerie photos in fear of ruining everything. Surely it’s him you’d be hurt by most if you lost him.
“He’s not going anywhere, Y/N,” he assures you.
You continue to study the stars in silence. There are no shooting stars out tonight, but what you’re looking for isn’t a wish. “Is that a promise?”
He nods. The easiest nod of his life. “That’s how it’s always been, right?”
You nod back. It’s always been you and him. Nothing could ever erase that history you’ve both been trying so hard to protect. There’s no need to play it safe anymore. The history between you and him is stronger than that.
As a way to transition out of the sappy stuff, you reach down and grab the toy from the kid’s meal—a tiny soft cat, probably from a baby cartoon or whatever. You have an awfully big smile on your face for someone who complained about ordering the kid’s meal in the first place.
Without thinking, Yoongi snatches the cat out of your grasp and dangles it by the tail in front of your eyes. “I’ll be keeping this.”
“I thought you said it was my kid’s meal.” You swing your little paw at him to reclaim your prize, but he’s too quick, holding the cat captive just out of your reach. It’s incredible how easy you are to taunt, especially over something as silly as a toddler toy. Maybe he’s just become a pro at it with over two decades of experience.
After unbuckling your seatbelt, you practically lunge over the center console and lean your weight on the edge of his seat with one hand while the other reaches for the cat, now pressed against the window on Yoongi’s side. He can smell your pretty perfume again, and he’s going to make it last as long as possible.
He brings the cat forward until it’s an inch away from your hand to encourage you to stretch just a tad closer to him. It apparently works, because the hand supporting your body has moved onto his thigh to give you the extra bit of reach.
If you’re both not careful, you might fall into his lap. He wouldn’t mind it of course, but then you’d feel how hard he’s getting just from having your hand on his thigh like that. Your sweet scent isn’t helping his situation either.
“Say please and it’s all yours.” He lets out an awkward half-cough after inhaling a large dose of your perfume. Very smooth, Yoongi.
You narrow your eyes at him before backing off. His thigh can finally breathe, not that it wanted to. “I don’t need it that bad.”
Aww, you’re acting all tough again. Yoongi slips the cat plush into his pocket with a smirk. “See? Playing hard to get.”
“I swear I’m only like this with you. You drive me mad,” you let out a dramatic sigh.
That’s right. He affects you in a way no one else does. “Good.”
“No, not good.” You wiggle a finger at him as you scan the receipt and pull out your phone. Several seconds later, he gets a notification of you sending him money for all the food.
“You could’ve at least let me pay for the kid’s meal.” Especially after he pocketed the cat.
“I’m just paying you back for all the rides so far.” So far? Interesting choice of words.
“Does that mean you’re going to need another one tomorrow?” He takes another sip of his coffee.
“I don’t know, maybe. I’m getting my car looked at tomorrow morning before work, but…” You have that ashamed look on your face again for having to ask for another ride. You’re not a burden to him. Ever.
“Got it. I’ll be on standby. Just AirDrop me if—”
“Enough with the AirDrop.” You give him another feisty shove and almost knock his coffee out of his hand. Even if the coffee had stained his whole car, he would’ve forgiven you immediately because your smile is so pretty. He’s just happy you’re back to being playful with him. “If I need anything, I’ll let you know. Thank you, Yoongi.”
On the drive home, you tell him more about your job with such a glow. The days might be long sometimes, but the crew has been so sweet, and the photographer “knows how to make you look good.” The photographer could be terrible and you’d still look amazing. There’s no doubt in Yoongi’s mind about that.
You also mention something about special little perks, too.
“Special little perks like what?” he asks, more curious than he’d like to be.
“Guess.” Why are you tempting him like this?
“Does it have something to do with the lingerie in your bag?”
You blink at him like a deer in headlights. Uh oh. “You were supposed to pretend like you didn’t see that.”
“See what?” he plays along. Good save, Yoongi.
You give him a thumbs-up and smile the rest of the way home.
After parking in the space in front of his house, Yoongi takes a five-second look at your car right behind his. It looks perfectly fine. Whatever the issue is, it’s not visible from the outside, but hopefully it stays broken for a while.
“Is it actually broken or did you just say that to score a ride from the handsome guy next door?” he teases.
“The latter, obviously,” you deadpan before switching over to the most precious giggle ever. You’re so fucking cute. “Thanks for the ride, Handsome Guy Next Door.”
“No problem.” He watches, amused, as you dig through the lingerie in your bag to find your keys. He’d turn on the flashlight on his phone to help you see better, but he’s supposed to be ignoring that mesh polka-dotted lingerie. That’s what a good and respectful neighbor would do.
Fuck it. He immediately breaks down and shines a light on the sheer bralette and g-string (and your keys). It’d look so pretty on you.
You grab your keys and shoo away his shameless horny eyes. That’s his cue to leave things as they are, just as he had the night before. If you wanted something more, you’d let him know. He’s already assured you everything will be fine between you and him no matter what.
Just as he unlocks his door, you stop him in his tracks.
“Yoongi, wait.”
He turns around, a little too eager some might say. You haven’t even said anything else, but he’s already ready to say yes to whatever it is.
You dig around in your bag again. He catches a glimpse of the mesh fabric between your fingers. He’ll take a souvenir any day.
But then you toss it back in your bag and hum an innocent, “Never mind, it’s nothing.”
You’re such a tease. Oh how the tables have turned.
As soon as you close the door behind you, you kick off your white sneakers, and take the teeny tiny lingerie with you to your room.
You saw how quick he was to turn around when you called out to him. You saw how he practically drooled at the lingerie in your bag. He wasn’t ready for the night to end either.
Piece by piece, you toss your clothes aside and replace them with the mesh polka-dotted triangles. Your little nipples are so visible through the thin pieces of cloth. Good.
Then you take a quick bed selfie, just like Yoongi had one night ago. And you lay it all out there. You’re done hiding and suppressing your feelings for him. Because no matter what happens between the two of you, even if the night doesn’t go the way you hope, you’re not going to lose him. That’s what was promised in his car.
So, one last time, you AirDrop him a photo of yourself in lingerie. He accepts it immediately.
Then you text him.
Y/N🐣 [8:18PM] “you asked for a pic of my wardrobe earlier didnt you?”
Y/N🐣 [8:18PM] “btw knock on my door rn or youre a coward😡”
You’re really doing it. There’s no going back now.
You throw a hoodie over your shoulders and leave it unzipped as you pace back and forth in the hall. You always wondered why you get so antsy when it’s just Min Yoongi. It’s literally just the guy you’ve lived next to your entire life. But that’s the hold he has on you. The mere thought of being with him never fails to excite you. Those are the kind of butterflies you get with him.
Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you hear his knock. You swing the door open before you can chicken out.
Of course his eyes immediately fall on your chest. He almost forgets to speak.
“What pic were you talking about? Did you send something?” he asks, still very much concentrated on your nipples.
Wait.
“You didn’t get the AirDrop?” Not this again. The granny across the street probably did get it this time. You want to wrap yourself up in your fluffy warm blanket and permanently disable that stupid phone feature once and for all. No, it’s not a stupid feature. You’re just stupid for using it.
“You’re so fun to fuck with, Y/N,” he laughs right in your face. “Yes, I got your cute little photo.”
“Stop teasing me,” you pout. Here you are, trying to look all hot for him, and he’s still finding ways to fuck with you. He’s so mean.
“I could ask the same of you.” Yoongi slips his index finger into your bralette between your breasts. He tugs on the stretchy band until it snaps back against your skin. “Or maybe you don’t realize what you do to me when I see you like this.”
“I don’t,” you play innocent as you pull him inside and shut the door behind him. You’d love to be enlightened about what your body does to him just by existing. A demonstration would be much appreciated. The more detail, the better.
He pushes you back against the wall in the narrow hallway and pins you there. You try to distract yourself by staring at the tiny speck of coffee on his white sweater but a strong hand cups your chin and lifts it so you can’t run from his gaze. His eyes are dark.“It's so fucked up how many times I’ve gotten off at the thought of my little sister’s friend in nothing but lingerie.”
Funny, you’ve always thought it was fucked up of you to lust over him given how close you’d been throughout your childhood. You cringe at the thought of Mo learning about all the unholy fantasies you’ve had of her brother—him fucking you against the wet walls of his shower, him shoving his cock down your throat until you cry, and even him tying you up on the bed and doing whatever he wants with your body. Your delusional self has thought about it all with him.
But now you know he’s felt the same way all along.
You slide your hands up his chest to his neck as your eyes hone in on his glossy lips. For as long as you could remember, you’ve always wondered what Min Yoongi tastes like. In your dreams, he tasted of creamy vanilla milkshakes. But now, in this moment…?
You lean in and press your breasts into his chest, but he pulls back just before you can get a taste of those lips.
“I always knew you had a thing for me,” he smirks. The teasing never stops. But that’s what you’ve signed your life away for. “If you want to kiss me so bad, say it.”
The stubborn you who “plays hard to get” would never admit that. The you right now, on the other hand, is yearning, desperate, and painfully horny. In this state, you’d get down on your hands and knees so quick.
“I want to kiss you, you ass—” Your mumble is cut off by his lips. They taste like the iced coffee from earlier with a hint of salt. You want more of it.
Your tongue gets tangled with his. It’s sloppy, but you’ve had enough of keeping it clean with him. You’ve played it safe for far too long.
His hands grab your breasts as he lets out a low moan inside your throat. Funny how perfectly your chest fits in his large hands. When he gives them a squeeze, you lean into him more. Anything to get more of his touch.
But then he slides a hand down your belly and works a few fingers around the fabric between your legs. They glide between your folds so smoothly.
“Did you get this wet just from a little kiss and touch? Poor thing.” He holds up the proof of your lust before licking it off his fingers with that tongue. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”
The next thing you know, your hoodie is gone and he’s carrying you off to your room. As soon as your back hits the mattress, he climbs on top of you, bombarding you with more kisses until you’re out of breath.
Your hands fidget with the hem of his sweater until he gets the memo that you want it off. Seeing him shirtless is nothing new—you’ve seen him casually walk out of the shower in nothing more towel on multiple occasions while hanging out with Mo next door, hence all your the shower fantasies. But in this context, with him on top of you on your bed, the butterflies just keep coming.
As the two of you continue to makeout, you unzip him. It’s your turn to slip your hand into his pants. He’s huge, just like your fantasies. You’re not sure your inexperienced throat can handle it.
“You haven’t even seen it yet, and you’re drooling,” he purrs when he leans back to get a good look at your current status—starved for his cock. “Does my cute little neighbor love having her mouth filled with cock?”
“I haven’t…” Your words trail off when you see his erection in full. Your hands latch back on to it like gravity. There’s no way this’ll fit down your throat without making you gag. You lick your lips.
“Wait, this isn’t the first time you’re—”
“I’ve had sex,” you clarify. “Just haven’t given a blowjob…”
It still feels weird to admit these kinds of things to your neighbor. You’ve always been more careful and closed off about your sex life than him. Meanwhile, you swear you’ve heard the whimpers and moans of all the girls he’s pleasured on the other side of your wall. You’ve never heard the sounds he makes during sex, though.
“How innocent. Depriving yourself of tasting it for this long.” Now he’s got a big ol’ smile on his face as you lie on your stomach and kiss along his length. “You won’t be so innocent by the time I’m done with you.”
You don’t want to be innocent with him anymore.
When you finally take him into your mouth, it’s easy. You swirl your tongue around as you bob your head up and down him. The taste isn’t nearly as bad as you’d thought. In fact, you kind of like it. Or maybe you’re just too horny to care.
But then you decide you want to gag. So you push your mouth further down his length. The slightest tickle against the back of your throat practically has your whole body jerk in protest. You pull back and let yourself breathe before wrapping your lips back around him.
“Hey, easy,” he chuckles, holding your hair back. “Deepthroating is too advanced for you. You’re still a baby.”
You’ll let the baby comment slide only because you’re too focused on sucking his cock. You wouldn’t mind doing this all night. It could easily become your new addiction.
“Mm,” you moan as flick your eyes up at him. His mouth is open, panting, still trying to fight off the feral instincts you so easily gave in to. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. Not bad for a first-time blowjob.
“So good,” he praises as he watches your mouth working so hard along his length. You’ve finally earned some praise from him. After all these fucking years. “Fuck, you’re so good.”
The next time you come up for air, he wipes his thumb along your lip to clean you up before flipping you over onto your back. You’d love to suck the glaze off his thumb, but the selfish bastard does it for you right in front of your face.
“I know you’ve grown quite attached to sucking my cock, but I’d like to know how your other hole feels, if that’s alright with you.”
You nod, knowing just how soaked your g-string got while sucking him off. After wiggling out of it and tossing it aside, you spread your legs out for him like a well-trained slut.
He uses his fingers again to make sure you’re coated enough. You feel two curl inside you. Then a third. His thumb brushes gently over your clit exactly one time.
“Fuck,” you whimper from the jolt of pleasure. He needs to do it again.
But he doesn’t.
So you run your own two fingers around your clit as his slip in and out of you. He watches the rhythm of your fingers going around and around like a hypnotic spiral. That smirk is creeping back up again.
“So that’s how my neighbor touches herrself,” he nods like the enthusiastic spectator he is. “That’s how you touch yourself for me.”
You continue to tease your little bud as he grabs a condom from the ass pocket of his jeans and slides it down his length. Finally. Fucking finally.
Your horny little body pounces on top of him, your thighs straddling him beneath you. His cock presses against your ass as you strip off your bralette and lean over to kiss him some more. You’d leave him a nice hickey, but you hate the thought of Mo bringing it up as “a byproduct of another one of his meaningless flings.”
Instead of thinking about that, you grab his cock from behind and ease yourself onto him. You’re sure his ego just got a boost from the amount of time it took you to adjust to his size.
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna be That Guy who comments on your tight little pussy.” Asshole.
Then you start sliding yourself up and down his cock. You gasp immediately. It feels so fucking good to finally have him inside you.
The boy doesn’t waste any time, either. His hands work their way up your waist back to your breasts. He gives your nipples a few pinches and is delighted to learn just how sensitive you are over there. You toss your head back with each little pinch.
As the pleasure builds, you feel him thrusting back beneath you. Your ass is practically bouncing off his thighs with each thrust. If you don’t hold onto his shoulders, you might fall off of him, which would be quite the tragedy because you happen to like the feeling of his cock pounding inside of you.
“More…” you huff against his neck. “Harder…”
At your request, he gets back on top and takes the lead, ramming himself in and out of you. You knew Yoongi was a strong guy, but you’ve never been fucked this hard before. Perhaps this is what years of all that sexual tension have amounted to.
You let out another loud moan, this time crying out his name. You should be afraid of Mo coming back from Namjoon’s and hearing the way you cry her brother’s name with such lust. You shouldn’t show what a dirty little slut you’ve become for him. But you’re mind isn’t functioning anymore. Not with him fucking you silly like that.
“I’m gonna—” you yelp.
He speeds up and pounds harder into you until you’re overcome by your orgasm. The wave of pleasure washes over you as you feel your walls tightening around him.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, feeling just how tight you can go. He should be grateful for your tight little pussy. Especially if his high was as good as yours.
As you catch your breath, your thoughts start to come back to you. You’re certainly not looking forward to the conversation you’re gonna have to have with Mo later. But you know it was worth it. And you know you don’t regret anything that happened tonight. It was long overdue, anyway.
Yoongi, on the otherhand, might still have his head in the clouds because he’s just lying down on your pillow with the goofiest smile. He’s been smiling a lot more lately.
“Do you remember that time you invited me to your little tea party in here?” he asks out of nowhere.
“No,” you lie.
Of course you remember it. You were probably five or six and you’d just watched some teen show where the main girl asked her love interest out on a lunch date. Your naive self was inspired to do the same, but with your love interest—your Yoongi. And initially he said no because he’s mean like that. That was your first heartbreak.
But then he turned around later and crashed the tea party you’d set up for your sobbing self and your teddy bear. He claimed he’d only stick around for the shortbread cookies, but you’re starting to think there was more to it.
“Well I do,” he admits. “That was the first time I thought you were kinda cute.”
“Kinda?”
“Yeah, kinda cute. Because you were also an annoying little brat, you know that?” This is just slander.
“Well I appreciate you putting up with this kinda cute annoying brat for all these years,” you mutter. “No one was forcing you to.”
“I know, that’s my point.” He pinches your cheek. “Even if I tried to run, you always somehow found a way to cling onto me. Like a leech.”
“Okay, buddy, I’ve had enough of this slander,” you hiss in his arms under the blankets. “If you’re going to say something nice, just say it already. No more of your dumb leech metaphors.”
“You’ve always had a hold on me, Y/N.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead—the first of many, you hope. “And I feel like a lot happened in the past day, but that’s only one small part of what this is.”
“This” as in you and him.
“Like one page in a history book,” you chime in. “Or like a chapter in a memoir, or the chorus of a song, or—”
He chuckles at your rambling because it’s apparently “so fucking cute” to him. What else would you expect? If one page in the history book is dedicated to the past 24 hours, 10,000 pages are filled with him teasing you, you chasing him, and everything in between.
Today simply marks the start of a new era.
#bts smut#yoongi smut#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts imagines#suga smut#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x reader#bts x reader#yoongi fluff#bts fluff#bts f2l
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OBSESSION — m.yg
★pairing : min yoongi + fem!reader
★genre : smut
★: perv!myg , neighbour!au , drabble , panty sniffing , masturbation — lmk if i missed any! ^^
★W/C: 965
A/N : hiiii! I made this a drabble cus i be going through that writers block fever 🤒 its kinda rusty and eh imo but LOLLL hope you enjoyed it! I will try writing more!
☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★
Perv neighbor Yoongi, who has been dying to have a taste of you since the day you moved into the apartment opposite his. He has been crushing on you ever since you walked up to his door to introduce yourself as his new neighbor. You had baked him cookies as a sign of friendship, but he wasn’t interested in them.
Yoongi thought you were absolutely beautiful. The moment you started talking to him with your soft, sultry voice, he fumbled internally. He didn’t even pay attention to what you were saying and was just staring at you in awe. His eyes scanned your body. That little crop tee and those Hello Kitty PJ pants fitted you perfectly. Your midriff was out, and he noticed the pink twinkling belly piercing. You looked so gentle and kind. He admired everything about you. And from then on, it was his mission to make you his.
But he was shy and reserved. He would see you occasionally whenever you accidentally bumped into him or something like that. But he wanted more. And so he began talking to you more often. He had analyzed your schedule and timetable by now. At around 6:30 a.m., you wake up and head to the gym. Yoongi wasn’t a gym freak at all. But when he found out you were going? He immediately joined your gym. It was a headache to wake up every day at 6 a.m. and go, but it did make yours and his relationship stronger than before. After you found out he was now going to your gym, you started talking to him more. Asking him about his workout plans, his diets, and his schedule, which Yoongi had no idea about, so of course he lied to you about them. Yoongi's eyes never left your presence. The sole reason he even joined this stupid gym was for him to get more of your beautiful body. He would stare at you shamelessly as you did your set of squats. His eyes are on your plump ass at all times. He would get hard at just seeing your ass and would rush into the gym lockers to rub one out real quick, his pale hands gripping onto his long dick. He imagined you doing it for him, but of course it wasn’t enough. You both would walk home together, which gave him the opportunity to learn about you more. He liked how dainty you were. You had this hard, tough girl exterior, but in reality, you were the complete opposite.
After your workouts, he would accompany you to the laundromat. But as time went by, he would offer to take your set of laundry whenever he went. You appreciated that and were very grateful to him. You were getting busy with college anyway, so your time was limited. Little did you know, he was stealing your panties. The only reason he offered to take your load was so he could be a sick weirdo and steal your used panties. He would rummage through the piles of clothes and carefully pick out one of your pink lace panties and stuff them into his pocket. He had the urge to take them all, but he wasn’t going to let you find out that he had been stealing them, right?
He would drop off the clean load at your doorstep before rushing into his own home. He wouldn't even have the patience to go into his room. Your scent was in his grasps, and he couldn’t waste anytime! He would spread his legs out as he sat on his couch, pulling out his aching cock. He would be as hard as a rock. His pink tip now an angry red with precum oozing out. With his shaky hands, he brought the undergarment to his nose, and as soon as his nose got a slight sniff of your panties, he was in heaven. He pressed the undergarment to his nose with great force, taking huge sniffs of your arousal. He loved it. He had no shame about it. It was intoxicating. He moaned into the piece of fabric as his other hand was gliding up and down his shaft with speed. Now that he knew how you smelled, he was able to imagine you bouncing on his dick. Your name left his mouth in audible moans. He was humping his own hand, not being able to control himself. He stuffed the garment into his mouth, now getting a taste of your arousal. His eyes shut tight, his eyebrows furrowed, and sweat dripped down his black locks. His now-free hand crept up his shirt, tugging and pulling on his erect nipples for more stimulation. His breathing was heavy, and his body was writhing uncontrollably. He envisioned your fucked-out face moaning and being a pretty little mess for him. His cum all over your pussy and your ass. His hips jerked up at the thought, and he was whining like a bitch. Muffled moans of your name escaped his pretty lips every second. Tears were forming in his eyes as he was getting closer and closer to his goal. His hands continued moving up and down, increasing the speed and grip.
He let out a final, choked-out gasp as he came all over his lower belly and hands. He was cumming a lot. All that pent-up desire , finally spilling out. He laid completely still, stabilizing his breath. He finally came down from his high, taking your now-drool-stained panties out of his mouth. He heard a faint knock on his apartment door, which prompted him to quickly clean himself up and put his composure back on. He opened the door to see you. Standing in front of his door. In utter shock. It seemed like you heard everything.
A/N: hihihi hello thank you 4 readingg! <33 i might write another part if i have the time lol my inbox is open rn! I might take time to respond or write so please be patient w me! 💀🤌😭 i did some tweaking to my blogs hehe new year new me fr
#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ yun’s silly fics#bts#bts reactions#bts smut#bts x reader#taehyung smut#bts army#bts fanfic#bts headcanons#bts scenarios#jeon jungkook#yoongi#min yoongi#bts suga#suga smut#suga scenario#yoongi smut#yoongi scenarios#kpop hard hours#kpop headcanons#kpop smut
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Give Me A Taste - MYG (18+)
Pairing: Idol!Yoongi X Fem!Reader
Theme: PWP, SMUT, established relationship au
Wordcount: 1.3k+
Summary: Yoongi is down bad for you, he has been missing your taste crazily. Thanks to unexpected turns of events and a cancelled show, he can finally satiate his hunger for you.
Warnings: Titty fucking, yes, he fucks her tits, tit play (a bit), fingering, he cums on her chest, a heated make out, Unprotected sex (don't try this at home), NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: It's been a minute since I have written anything for Mr. Min. so... here it is. also, this is an apology because I won't be able to update WDBHG this week. I'm so sorry.:(
You are trying your best to scrub off the burnt patch of your frying pan when you hear the door lock chiming its jovial sound.
“What the –” muttering to yourself, you start peeling off the washing gloves from your hands. It’s only you and Yoongi who know the passcode of your shared home. You are inside the condo and Yoongi is out on a world tour still having three more weeks to come back home. So it’s definitely a trespasser, or worse, a burglar or a robber trying to break into your house.
Your blood runs cold at the thought as you walk towards the door for taking a look at the doorbell screen. Your steps halt when you see your boyfriend putting off his shoes and slipping into home slippers.
“Yoongi?” you whisper, your eyes fill with moisture at an instant. It’s been nearly three months since you last saw him, smelled his calming scent, traced his skin with your fingertips. You have been missing him crazily and a brief phone or video call a day does absolutely nothing to quench your thirst.
“One of the shows got canceled due to extreme weather conditions, we have a week till the next one. So, we decided to rest for a bit.” Yoongi reasons in his usual calm voice, before you get to ask him. He comes to stand right in front of you as you keep on staring at him.
“Oh. Have you-”
“Are you just going to stare at me?” Yoongi cuts you off. His face is unreadable but his eyes are dark, which makes it hard for you to assume anything.
“No, I-”
You get cut off again but this time because Yoongi slams his lips onto yours, pinning you to the nearest wall.
Your boyfriend is usually calm and collected but he becomes a beast when lust takes over his senses.
He grabs your wrists with both of his hands, pinning those above your head as he presses his body on yours.
He kisses you hungrily, as if trying to lavish your lips for all the times he was away from you. You kiss him back with just as much urgency. The make out session is so heated that it spreads heat all over your body, including your pussy that just started wetting your cotton panties.
You realize Yoongi is on the same page when his semi hard bulge presses on your stomach.
He bites down on your lower lip, pulling it with his teeth before leaving you fucked up with only kisses.
Yoongi loves you. Oh hell! It will be underestimated to say that he just loves you. He is obsessed with you! He craves for you like a lunatic. He starves for you.
This prolonged period of staying away from you has been taking a toll on him, that’s why he came rushing back to you as soon as he got the chance.
He looks at you with hooded eyes, stares down at your swollen lips then at your perked nipples. Fuck! You look heavenly like this. He can’t wait to feel your warmth wrapped around his length.
“I’ve missed you,Y/N. I can barely control myself anymore.” Yoongi whispers as he latches his lips to your throat, placing soft and lingering kisses wherever he could reach.
“You don’t need to control yourself, Yoongi. I am all yours. Do whatever you want. I am all yours.” You breathe out. Yoongi’s tight grip on your wrists arouses you by an impossible amount.
“Yes baby. I am going to fuck you so good now. But before that.. Give me a taste? Will you?” Yoongi’s low voice sends a trail of goosebumps all over your body. You suddenly find an urge to shy away from him and his eyes which are currently boring in your chest, more precisely, your nipples.
Yoongi finds it adorable the way you get a little shy whenever he asks for a taste of your tits. He loves your tits, he can never get enough of those and fucking your tits is one of his most favourite ways of ruining you.
He leaves your hands and clutches at the rim of your oversized tshirt to pull it off of your body. His eyes turn even darker as soon as you are topless in front of him.
He palms your tits for a few moments. You push your tits out to enjoy more of his touch by arching your back. Yoongi chuckles at your eagerness.
“Guess you missed me too, darling?” he squeezes both of your tits at the same time to erect a soft contained sigh from your lips.
“You have no idea how much.” you murmur while enjoying Yoongi’s rough hands on your soft supple flesh.
His fingers find your nipples and he twists those to satisfy himself, “then you will let me fuck your titties today, won’t you?”
“I will…” you voice somehow.
Yoongi bends down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.
As soon as the bud is inside his mouth, he starts lapping it up with his saliva before sucking it hard. All of your breath is knocked out when he worries your nipple between his teeth, not quite biting it rather playing with it with practiced skills.
One of your hands finds its way to his long dark hair, nails raking through his scalp, earning a moan from your boyfriend. Your other hand travels down to south, brushing through the rough material of his jeans, grabbing his bulge and rubbing it to satiate your burning need that has developed for him.
Yoongi repeats his actions with your other nipple, arousing you more and more.
You are far too gone with the pleasure to notice that Yoongi has smeared your chest with his saliva, seemingly preparing you tits to take his cock.
“Should we head to the couch now?” he asks with his gentle yet low voice. You nod eagerly.
He lifts you up effortlessly, carries you to the couch and lays you down. Swiftly removing the rest of your clothes and leaving you lying naked on the couch, he reaches for his own clothes.
His cock springs out of his boxers, tall and proud and ready to fuck you. He smirks, feeling you eyeing him like the horny, hungry girl that you are.
Yoongi climbs on top of you, places his knees on either side of you, and lines his cock in the middle of your tits. You squeeze your tits tightly to make a tight passage for your boyfriend’s greedy cock.
His first thrust is a little messy, the head of his cock nudges you on your chin, painting your chin with his precum.
The next thrusts are more stable and steady and soon you hear Yoongi groaning in pleasure. He is such a goner when it comes to your tits. You tighten your tits even more to rile him up.
“B-Baby, ugh, Y/N! I will c-cum at this rate.” Yoongi whines. Your eyes roll back at the sensation of his cock being squeezed by your big tits.
But you start seeing stars when you feel Yoongi’s fingers parting your folds and drawing tight circles on your clit.
“Oh my– Yoongi” you fumble to make any coherent sentence.
Arousal pools out of your hole and creates a mess down there.
Apparently, it’s too much for Yoongi to take in your fucked up state, your wetness on his fingers and your tits squeezing the hell out of his cock, all together. His dick starts twitching and before he could warn you, he is cumming all over your face, throat and chest.
Your grip on your tits loosen as you bring your hand to wipe your face off. When your vision returns to you, you find Yoongi licking your juices off of his fingers while maintaining a steady eye contact with you. He definitely doesn’t look like someone who just cummed all over you.
Repositioning himself, Yoongi lowers his head to the level of your cunt and chuckles in his breathy voice, “Next up is your pussy. Give me a taste, yeah?”
And you know you are going to have a long day ahead.
Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae
#bts smut#yoongi smut#suga smut#bts x reader#yoongi x reader#suga x reader#bts fanfiction#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#suga fanfic#suga x you#bts oneshot#bts fanfic#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi#bts
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in the darkest little paradise.
A 'DARKEST LITTLE PARADISE' DRABBLE.
pairing: min yoongi x reader
warnings: smut (minors do not interact), unprotected sex (bc it's fun to fantasize about in fictional situations but please use protection irl), small mentions of mafia shit (again), sex work
masterlist + disclaimers.
note: yet another smut drabble that's actually just a buildup for a whole ass wip! enjoy
— prev: (none) | next: and all the pieces fall
You're not much of a crybaby, not when life has a way of toughening you up.
But right now, with your legs high up in the sky as you lay on your back, your skin reveling in the soft velvet of the sheets, you blubber incoherently with uncontrollable tears streaming down your face.
The reason for your tears is wearing a smug look as he looks down at your pitiful, crying form.
"Why are you crying, princess?"
His thumb never leaves your clit just as his cock never leaves your warm, wet heat. But he doesn't move.
"Yoongi—"
"Yeah? What do you want?"
He's ruthless, rubbing circles on your sensitive nub but remaining otherwise motionless while he's balls deep inside you.
You hate crying. You hate pleading, as well. But Yoongi singlehandedly makes you do both.
After all, Min Yoongi owns the streets of Daegu. It should be a no-brainer that he owns your body, too.
He loves you like this, loves when your tough facade breaks just for him, loves when you whine and beg and plead to him, loves when you fall apart because of him.
"Yoongi," you whimper when he twitches inside you, "move."
If someone else tries ordering him around, they'd lose a limb.
But here you are, your pleas commanding him to fold to your every whim, your moans and lewd sounds spurring him to give you what you want.
And he does.
Yoongi starts off slow, knowing just how much you love the buildup despite your whining. He gathers a generous amount of spit in his mouth and lets it drop on your waiting cunt, groaning when he observes the mix of juices pooling between your spread legs where the two of you are joined.
"I've spoiled you too much," he teases, his hips starting to pick up a faster pace. "Bossing me around. Never saying please."
You're too fucked out to respond and it's not like he expects you to, anyway. Not when he starts jackhammering into you just the way you like it, and he begins to feel the fluttering of your walls.
"Yoongi," you sob, and as if to appease him, you chant, "please, please, please—"
And then you fall.
Yoongi loves it when you climax. You thrash around, hands gripping anything you can reach – the sheets, the bed posts, your hair, your tits. There's a beautiful vulnerability to the sight, a stark contrast to the tough, closed-off act you normally put on.
In truth, the both of you are closed-off people. But right here, with your cunt squeezing the life out of his dick, with your naked bodies connected in the most intimate of ways, he allows himself the same moment of vulnerability.
He falls. He reaches his peak and spills inside you, leaning down and groaning into your neck as you wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace.
Anyone looking at the two of you right now would think you're two lovers basking in the afterglow.
In another world, maybe. But in this dark little paradise, you can only wish.
Because he's Min Yoongi, the ruthless mob boss, the topdog of Daegu. And you're just a no-named prostitute, a whore, a nobody.
You know better than to dwell on it. So you suck it up, put on a face for him, and try to make the rest of his visit worth his while and worth his money.
After all, he's paying for you.
"Hey," he calls out just as the two of you are getting dressed. "Are you available tomorrow?"
"Oh, it's my day off tomor—"
"Not to work," he clarifies. "I mean, to go out."
Your eyebrows furrow.
"Out?" you repeat. "Out where?"
"To dinner."
You blink. "You want to take me out to dinner? Why?"
"Don't people usually go out for dinner to celebrate their birthdays?"
"My... birthday...? Wait, what?"
Yoongi just smirks. He then kisses your cheek before walking out the room with a quick, "I'll pick you up at seven," thrown over his shoulder.
You're dumbfounded. You're flustered. And truthfully, you're a bit excited. But most of all, you're confused.
Because how did Yoongi know tomorrow's your birthday?
COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
#bts x reader#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x reader#suga x reader#bts smut#min yoongi smut#yoongi smut#suga smut#bts x you#min yoongi x you#yoongi x you#suga x you#bts fic#yoongi fic#suga fic#min yoongi fic#cat.writes
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Gods of the Dark | Two | myg (m)
☾ Pairing: Dream god!Yoongi x f. human!reader
☾ Summary: Don’t ask for help in the dark. It’s an old tale you always heard whispered among the people of your village. But when you find yourself dragged kicking by the man you’re to marry, you have little choice but to beg for help long after the sun has set. The god who answers your pleas promises to save you, but every deal comes with a price.
☾ Word Count: 21,443
☾ Genre: Fantasy, angst, strangers to lovers, smut
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
☾ Warnings: Sexist and patriarchal society inspired by medieval europe, a lot of world building and discussion about theories/concept of dreams, discussions of morals and ethics, world building, angst, mentions/light depictions of an abusive family, discussions of gender roles and forced marriages, attempted murder via arson, sexual dream sequences, depictions of oral (f. receiving), exposed bodies (in a brothel), pining, townsfolk essentially bullying reader, intense nightmare sequences, light depictions of PTSD (including memories of almost drowning/being physically attacked), explicit language, idiots who are obviously into one another being idiots, recreational drinking, topics of desire, feelings of shame, depictions of anxiety and fear, slight voyeurism, attempted murder
☾ Published: December 2, 2023
☾ A/N: It's finally here! This chapter took so long to write and I want to apologize for how long it took. The creative process can be so difficult sometimes, and I have been having a very hard year, which reflects in my writing. Thank you for sticking with me - I really hope this chapter is okay. This originally wasn't going to be as slow of a burn as it is, but this is where the story took me naturally, so I hope that's okay with everyone. I am going to be adding an extra chapter to this now to tell the story the way I want, so we will have five total chapters to this. I am already working on chapter three, and my goal is to write just this series until the next three chapters are done! Note: The sections of italics are used to indicate dream sequences for this fic - the way I use these are very specific and with intent... that's the only hint I will give you.
A huge thank you to @here2bbtstrash for being my beta reader - I give them huge beta projects with very little time to do them, and this story would not be nearly as polished or tuned as it is now without them. Also thank you to everyone who has been so encouraging and patient with me - your kind words are not lost on me and I'm thankful for you all!
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
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Eyes in the sky crying geysers
How dare I have private desires
-
First is your mother’s screaming. It’s loud enough to make you clap your hands over your ears, wincing as she drops all of the things in her hands. Second is your father storming into the house like a hurricane, an axe clutched in his hand from cutting wood in the yard. When he sees you, he blanches and takes a few steps back, raising the axe.
“Demon,” he whispers. He reaches for your mother and pulls her behind him. “You are a demon.”
“No, I-”
Without a warning, your father launches the axe at you. You scream, arms going up to block your face, unable to dodge the attack. There’s a loud crack as the axe hits an invisible barrier. You feel your hand fly to your open mouth, staring at the axe that’s now hewn in two on the floor.
Silence follows the destruction of the weapon. In that silence, it occurs to you that your father has attempted to kill you, and was only stopped by whatever protection Yoongi promised you. The realization is dizzying and you stumble away from your parents a little, bumping into the wall that separates the kitchen and the entryway.
No one says anything at first. Your mother clings to your father, trembling violently. Her hair is greyer than you remember and it looks like the last few days haven’t been kind to her. But she has always been soft and weak.
It’s your father who no longer looks the same. Always such an imposing figure in your life, he looks aged. His face is wrinkled, his hair is grey. His presence is so much smaller than you remember, once full of rage and ferocity, now just a terrified man in a doorway.
You cannot believe this is the man you’ve spent most of your life afraid of. Where once stood a great fear of yours now stands nothing more than a shadow of a man. Weak. Afraid. Vulnerable.
“You can’t hurt me anymore,” you say in a voice much steadier than you feel. “You can’t marry me off, you can’t make me burn my books, and you can’t hurt me anymore.”
“What kind of demon are you?”
It occurs to you that you could tell him you’re not a demon. You’re just you, with a little added protection. But the realization that they are afraid of you wakes up something ugly inside of you. Something oily, that slithers, something wicked and sharp.
You don’t have to tell them you’re not a demon. You don’t have to tell them that you are. They have come to that conclusion themselves, and it has put them beneath you. Afraid of you. You’re more powerful than you’ve ever been in this home.
So you let them think you are. “The kind that survived Nathaniel Laudermill beating me in the woods and trying to drown me.”
Your father straightens. “That wasn’t supposed to happen! You weren’t supposed to run and he- he wasn’t supposed to hurt you.”
“Well, he did. And he paid for it, didn’t he?”
When you say it, you have a sneaking suspicion that Nathaniel Laudermill is dead. When your father nods feebly at your question, the knowledge slides into place. You don’t feel bad. It almost horrifies you that you don’t, but you think of the burning in your lungs, his nails against your skin, the roaring of the water.
You’re glad Nathaniel is dead.
“What do you want from us? Money? Our lives?”
“Nothing.” You realize it’s true, suddenly stricken with wondering why you came back at all. “I want you to go about your lives, and let me do what I will.”
Pushing off the wall, you turn around and head out the front door. You feel their eyes on you as you go, but you don’t look back.
For now, you walk out into the woods. Crickets chirp happily, growing quiet as you walk by and starting once again when you’re a distance from them. Under the shade of the trees, it’s cold. The river isn’t flooded up into the woods anymore, but the ground is soft beneath your feet, mud giving way to your steps.
It feels different when you walk through the woods this time. They aren’t as vibrant. No Tiera is lurking in the boughs of the wisteria. There’s no lake with merfolk peering at you with large, alien eyes. A world that was once so full of life and peace feels unsaturated now. Devoid of color.
A nasty feeling creeps up on you as you walk. You look for the creatures of the wood, hoping to see their bright colors and little lives. A snake slithers away from you, but it’s just that. A snake with normal scales, in a normal bush. A rabbit rushes by, quick as lightning, a blur of fur.
None of the birds have plumes of purple feathers. There’s no trilling song that sounds like dreams spun into notes, no smell of drifting sweetness on the wind. The air is damp and cold, and it smells like fresh earth and water. But there’s nothing about it that seems as vibrant as before.
By the river, the water rushes as fast as your thoughts. You weren’t sure what to expect when you came home, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t your parents thinking you were a demon, but that isn’t the worst part.
The worst part is that only after two weeks, your world has lost its magic. It pales in comparison to Yoongi’s world or even your imagination. You stare at the water you used to think rushed with so much promise, the waxy leaves that used to contain so many shades of green. Now they’re just leaves and the river is just water.
A tingle presses at your neck. You turn, expecting Yoongi to be looming behind you. There’s no one there, but the feeling of awareness doesn’t go away. Frowning, you lean against the tree and stare out into the woods unseeing.
Clove and cinnamon hang in the air. You close your eyes, inhaling. The tingle at the back of your neck feels familiar. In your mind, you feel it like a phantom touch, sliding from your neck across your shoulder, dragging down the length of your arms until there is a soft twitch in your palm.
It’s easy to imagine Yoongi this way. But when you open your eyes, Yoongi isn’t there. The feeling doesn’t go away. But you always have that feeling out here, the something of other. Your heart flutters at the thought of the god lurking somewhere that you can’t see.
A silly thought. You brush it away, trying not to delude yourself into fantasies that Yoongi has any interest in you beyond your deal and beyond that night in the woods where you asked for help. Yoongi’s kindness is just that, and though you dream of him often, you know the difference between your dreams and reality.
Instead of leaving to go back to the house, you sit down on the ground. Closing your eyes, you imagine a brighter world. A more magical world. It’s easier to do this than to contend with the fact that the woods you loved so dearly are not as you remember them.
This, at least, is familiar. Sitting in the woods for hours and imagining worlds away from yours. Now, you imagine a specific world, made up of twilight and mountains in the distance. With a wonderful castle full of rooms saturated with candlelight and books you’re learning how to read.
When your stomach growls, you’re forced to stop your imagination and get up. You feel a bit better, knowing that you can at least remember what Yoongi’s dream realm looks like. Two weeks. You have two weeks until you can go back, and until then, Yoongi expects you to study.
Back at the house, your parents stare in silence when you enter. You hardly look at them, walking to the kitchen as though they are merely ghosts harboring the same space as you. Your movements are methodical as you make yourself lunch. When you reach for the knife to cut cheese, you feel the pointed look of your parents.
Part of you wants to turn around and scream at them to scare them. Another part of you has divorced the idea of them as your parents already. Yet you do nothing, biting a piece of cheese as you finish plating your meal and go to your room. They say nothing.
Sitting on your bed, you eat your meal. The world is quiet for the most part, though the muted sound of nature hums beyond your closed window. You realize there is a desk in your room stacked with books, parchment, and inkwells.
Heart racing, you get up from your bed and cross the room. You wipe your fingers on your shirt as you pick up a note written in Yoongi’s neat scrawl. You chew your lip as you look at the swirls and dips of letters on paper, immediately intimidated at the prospect of making sense of the writing.
You take the note with you to the bed and begin to parse the letters and sentences apart. It takes all of your concentration, going over the sounds each letter makes in your head to build a word. It’s not fast work and it isn’t easy, but after a while, you work out the first sentence.
Do not forget to practice every day.
A smile makes your mouth twitch, both in pride that you managed to work out the sentence and at the thought of Yoongi hunched over his desk writing you a note.
The second sentence is trickier. Afternoon light pours through your window as you spend another fifteen minutes sounding out the letters, quietly muttering them to yourself until you’ve got full words to build the sentence.
I will be watching, so you better practice as often as you can.
You bite your lip. It sounds like a playful threat, quietly muttered in one of Yoongi’s teasing moments. You can almost hear the soft rasp of his voice and picture the smirk that would accompany his words. You shiver before reading the final sentence.
Sleep well, and dream as often as you can.
The desk is a nice touch. You don’t remember seeing it this morning and you wonder how it got there. Remembering Yoongi’s magic is overwhelming. You’re still unsure what the limits of his power are, if there are any at all.
Hunched over the papers, you begin to trace letters again. It feels good to have the quill in your hand. You’re careful not to spill the ink all over the paper like you do when you’re practicing in the library - you have a limited amount of parchment here, compared to Yoongi’s endless amounts in the House of Dreams.
It does beg the question whether he’ll drop you off more magical paper if you run out, though.
By the time your hand is cramping too much to practice more and your head hurts, it’s evening. Your parents are locked away in their room when you come out. You can hear the soft voice of your mother go silent when they hear you enter the kitchen for food before heading out to the porch.
Twilight skies stretch above you. Sitting on the edge of the porch, you watch the world fade from purple to black. The stars begin to dot the sky, the moon making her climb upward. You grin, feeling relieved that maybe not all of your world has lost its magic.
Perhaps it’s just the light of day you’re no longer interested in. The night is far more mysterious and alluring, calling to you as you finish your last bite of dinner. You set your plate down on the porch and hop down, feeling the soft grass beneath your bare feet.
The last time you entered the woods in the dark, you were almost killed. That memory alone makes you pause at the edge of the woods. Your mouth dries a little bit and though the urge to step into the shadow of the night is strong, the memory of Nathaniel’s hands on your hair is stronger.
You turn around quickly and walk back to the house, picking up the plate along the way. It feels shameful to be afraid of the dark woods, a sour taste in your mouth as you lock yourself in your room and crawl onto the bed.
Closing your eyes, you try not to think about Nathaniel. His yelling haunts you, the phantom grip of his fingers pulling your hair, the way your mouth filled with water- a hooting owl disturbs your spiraling thoughts.
You open your eyes, straining your ears, only to find silence. Just as you begin to close your eyes again, you hear the hoot once more. Turning toward the window next to your bed, you sit up and pop the latch, casting open one of the shutters.
Above the house, the moon is a glowing coin in the sky. Everything her light touches is awash in grey. Sticking your head out of the window, you sweep your gaze back and forth, trying to look for the sound of the hooting.
As though it senses your gaze, the owl hoots again. You see it this time. A great horned owl stares at you from its perch on top of a pile of chopped wood. Its eyes are burnished gold, like two burning beacons in the night. It’s a stunning owl, all browns and whites, feathers luminous under the sheen of the moon. It moves its head in a circle, opening and closing its beak.
Then, the owl surprises you. You flinch and sit backward on your haunches as it takes flight, great wings flapping as it flies to your window and lands on the ledge. You gasp in delight. The creature is far bigger up close, its ochre eyes warm and intelligent.
The back of your neck tingles familiarly and you smile.
“Are you supposed to watch over me?” The owl chirps, a much higher-pitched noise than the hoot. “Hmm. I see. Do you have a name?”
The owl bobs its head from side to side in an uncanny movement. Though you’re not sure, you think it means to tell you no. “Well, what if I give you one?” The owl chirps again. “What about… Moony?”
Fluffing its feathers, the owl shifts back and forth and lets out a hiss. You giggle, covering your mouth as the bird settles, looking at you in a way that certainly feels haughty and bothered. “Alright. What about… Dream?” Another hiss and a bob no. “Okay, well you’re making this quite difficult. What about…”
A dozen names run through your mind. You think of the owl as Yoongi’s way to watch over you at night. It makes you feel warm and far less alone than you were before. It’s nice knowing that you have a protector, someone to warn Yoongi if you’re ever in danger. Or to steer you away from your bad thoughts.
“How about Guardian?” you offer. It blinks two large eyes before chirping and bobbing its head in a circle, pleased at the name. You grin and slowly reach your hand forward. “I like it. Guardian, then.”
Gently, the owl leans forward and lets you brush its feathers. They are silky under your touch, each plume delicate and wonderful. You can’t help but smile, stroking the owl's chest until it shuffles back and forth and gives a short hoot.
“Go on,” you urge. “Do whatever you need to do. I’ll leave the window open?”
Guardian hoots in affirmation before shuffling its wings and flying off into the night.
Laying in your back, you stare up through the open window, watching the stars go past. Slowly, you feel sleep pull at your edges, beckoning you to give in. You finally do, drifting asleep under the silver light of the moon and a blanket of stars.
-
Yoongi sits in front of the fireplace in the library. You blink a few times, a little dazed. You don’t remember how you got here, but you know the smell of this library and you know that shadowy frame better than anything. It suddenly makes you ache to realize how much you miss it already.
As if sensing your presence, Yoongi turns to look at you. He smirks, showing no sign of surprise at seeing you standing behind him. He gestures to the armchair next to him and you grin, quick to join him.
Warmth leaps from the fireplace, the logs popping and crackling under the hungry, orange flames. Yoongi is dressed in a simple linen shirt and pants, his necklaces reflecting the burning light. He watches you sit down and fold your feet onto the chair.
“Am I here? Or am I dreaming?” you ask.
“Are both not possible?”
You think about it. “Well yes, I suppose they are. I’m dreaming but I can come here because I’m dreaming.”
“Clever girl.” Yoongi’s eyes dance as he looks you up and down. “How was your first day back?”
“Strange. I…” You chew on your lip, wrapping your arms around your legs. Suddenly, you feel more at home than you did earlier that day in the place you were raised. You think about the woods out behind your house, the alien way you felt among trees that should be familiar. “It feels as though the world doesn’t hold as much magic anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like here. It is so vibrant and beyond imagining that now that I’ve gone back… nothing compares.”
Yoongi hums. “I promise you that there is so much magic in your world. There is real magic in living that cannot be found among the imaginary.”
You rest your chin on your knees and sigh heavily. “If only I could find it.”
“You will.”
Silence passes between you. It’s comfortable. You watch the dancing fire, the world fading away. Though you are acutely aware that Yoongi is staring at your side profile, you don’t squirm or feel anxiety. You simply feel peace, happy to be here. Happy to be with him.
That makes your stomach flutter. At least you’re not dreaming of him in ways you shouldn’t tonight. As soon as you think about it, you feel your cheeks heat up hotter than the flames from the fireplace.
After a little while Yoongi sighs, drawing your attention back to him. “You should sleep.”
“I thought I was.”
“Sort of. You’re more… dreamwalking right now. You’re not really resting.”
“Do I have to stay here?” The question is small. You don’t meet his eyes when you ask, suddenly filled with shame that you can’t even last a day in the world you’ve known for over twenty years. “There’s nothing for me here.”
“There is. You just have to find it again.”
“I don’t know how.”
Yoongi stands up. You look up at him and see that his expression is soft. Kind. Your heart speeds up, tongue heavy in your mouth as he slowly reaches out to you. His hand hesitates for a second, pauses in mid-air like he’s unsure, and then he touches your cheek lightly. “Trust me.”
Before you can respond, Yoongi is walking away. The skin on your cheek tingles where his fingers were a moment before, a shiver racing up your spine. You lift your hands to touch your cheek where his fingers were moments ago. You can’t help but smile, fondness for him growing. Blooming.
Leaning back in the chair, you close your eyes and settle into real sleep.
-
Tap tap tap.
You twitch your nose and roll your head to the side, sniffing. For a moment, it felt like something had been tapping your nose, almost waking you from sleep. You start to sink back into it, pulling your covers tighter as your thoughts drift… further…
Tap tap tap.
You frown. Now you’re awake, your thoughts clawing their way to break the surface of sleep. When you finally collect yourself and register that you’re waking up, you open your eyes to reveal a face hovering inches from yours, so close that you cannot make out the features.
A shriek rips through your room as you scramble away from the face, clutching your blanket. You slam into the wall near the window, heart hammering as you press yourself flat, trying to make yourself small.
Taehyung falls backwards on his ass, covering his ears and giving you a ghastly expression, as though horrified to be screamed at in such a manner. Your hand clutches your chest as you realize it’s him sitting on your floor and him who had been inches from your face - tapping your nose.
“What are you doing?” you holler at him, fisting your blankets. You suddenly feel sick, the adrenaline making your stomach turn and your head spin. Groaning, you lay on your side, squeezing your eyes shut. Colors coalesce behind your eyelids as you take deep breaths, hoping it will pass. “Are you insane?”
“Well, that is up for debate.”
You open your eyes and glare at him.
Taehyung sits with his long legs out in front of him, leaning back on his palms. His dark hair hangs in his eyes as he grins at you, giddy. He’s dressed in a flowing white shirt with laces at the front that he’s kept open, revealing a tanned chest. His shirt is tucked into brown trousers and you spot a small chain with a charm tied through one of his belt loops.
You think you recognize the charm from one of Yoongi’s necklaces.
“What are you doing here?”
“Visiting, obviously.”
“You can just… visit?”
“I do what I want.”
As the adrenaline rush fades, you slowly sit up, glaring at the man on your floor. “I doubt that. How did you get in here, anyway?”
“Your window is open.”
The window in question is still wide open from last night, only now, morning light streams through. The air is cool and smells of rain, the wind rushing through the trees and making them bend and dance under its guidance. A robin flits from bough to bough, singing.
“So you came through the window?”
“No, I came through the front door. No one else is home.”
“Then why did you say you came through the window?”
“I didn’t. I said the window was open.” Taehyung gives you a white, square grin. You clench your teeth and resist the urge to throw a pillow at him. Though you’re pleased to see him, you’re equally as vexed by his teasing. “Anyway, I want you to show me around.”
“Show you around what?”
He gets up from the floor, clapping his hands together to get rid of the dirt and dust before doing the same to his pants. He shrugs, giving you a cheery smile. “I don’t know. Anything. Everything. I want to see what your life here was like.”
“It wasn’t very good.”
“That’s okay. I want to see it anyway.”
Slowly, you get out of bed. He makes room for you, walking over toward the desk where your writing practice sheets are. He flips through them, examining your work as you eye him, stretching. Your joints pop and you groan, eyes fluttering at the release of tension.
“Why?” you ask. He looks up at you, brows raised in a question. “Why do you want to see?”
Taehyung contemplates his answer. He taps one long finger on top of your tracing. “You’re getting better.” He leans against the desk and crosses his arms, regarding you steadily. “I’ll make you a deal. Show me about your life here. Teach me about you. And I’ll tell you about me.”
That sparks your interest. You know so little about Taehyung, even in the two weeks that you’ve lived in the House of Dreams. He is a charming mystery, someone who speaks in riddles and likes to goad you and talk about so much that you realize he talks about nothing at all. At least, not anything substantial.
For the amount of things you know about Taehyung, like how he enjoys cinnamon in his tea or that his favorite color is green like the bottom of the lake, or how his favorite snacks are honey cakes or that music makes him cry, you also know… nothing about him. Where he comes from. Who he was before he was Yoongi’s companion in a big, lonely castle.
Sighing, you walk up to him and extend your arm. “Deal.”
Taehyung’s hand is warm and tingles when you shake it. He grins at you, happier than ever before he drops your hand and gestures at your clothes. “Well go on,” he says. “Change out of your nighties. Unless of course, you’d like to stay in them.”
“Get out of my room and I will!”
He raises his brows. “Don’t want me to watch? How boring.”
You don’t take his teasing to heart. You’ve already adapted to Taehyung’s jesting and prodding, learning that it’s a key part to the way that he shows his affections. For the first few days, you’d thought perhaps he didn’t like you much, but after seeing him rib Yoongi for two hours straight in the library, you realized it was good that he was teasing you.
You open the small trunk of clothes and slide on pants and a loose shirt. When you enter the main house, you find Taehyung standing on the porch with his arms crossed over his chest, looking into the woods with a frown. Tucking in your shirt, you step out onto the porch, the wood creaking underneath your weight.
“What is it?” you ask when Taehyung doesn’t turn to greet you. His eyes are dark and there’s an expression on his face that makes you nervous. “Is there something out there?”
Instead of answering directly, he asks, “Is that where Yoongi found you?”
Oh. Oh. Taehyung is looking at the woods where you ran off the night that your parents tried to make you marry Nathaniel. You nod and hum, trying not to think much about it as you finish tucking in the shirt and adjusting the material.
“There’s a bad energy there,” Taehyung observes. He turns away from the woods finally and drops his hands at his side. “You should stay away from that place moving forward.”
“I didn’t exactly go in there on purpose.”
“I know.” Something flashes in his eyes. “Best not to do it again, if you can help it. You can go into the woods, just not there.”
“Okay…”
You wait for Taehyung to elaborate, but he doesn’t. A chill settles over your skin, the wind picking up to rustle the trees. He shrugs and grins, the dark expression gone in a flash as he gestures for you to enter back through the house and leave by way of the front door.
Taheyung follows you, a bounce to his step as he hurries to walk next to you. You say nothing as you lead him out of the yard and toward the main road by your home that leads into town, your stomach fluttering with nervousness as you go.
If Taehyung is confused as to why you’re not starting the story of your life at home, he doesn’t let on. He tucks his hands into his pockets and walks next to you, his feet crunching the gravel beneath his boots and the wind lifting his hair.
Studying Taehyung’s side profile, you think he looks like something from a dream. He has the kind of beauty that seems purposeful and handcrafted, each one of his features carefully designed to be the wonderful, glowing being that he is.
You don’t know what he is, really. But you’ve made a deal and you have to deliver on your end first.
“We live a bit away from town,” you say eventually. “My father inherited the house after his father, who was a very talented wood carver. He used to cut the trees here himself and decide which tree was perfect for what project, which is why we live almost thirty minutes from town.”
“A wood carver is a nice talent to have.”
You nod. “He was very good. It made a good income. My father had no talent for it, though, and opened up a store instead. He sold my grandfather’s wares and then eventually added items from other folks in town, including my mother's clothes. She’s a seamstress.”
“You were wearing a dress the night Yoongi brought you home.”
Home. Taehyung says it so easily, like he’s already accepted that the House of Dreams is yours as much as it’s his. A warm feeling blooms through you, and you look up at Taehyung and smile at him despite the looming subject of the doomed wedding dress. He returns your smile just as broadly, even if he doesn’t know the reason for your sudden turn of happiness.
“Yeah. That was one she made,” you sigh, turning back to the road. “A wedding dress.”
“It was beautiful, but I did burn it in the fire.” You look at him with your brows raised and he gives you a sheepish shrug. “You were assaulted in that dress. We wanted nothing to do with it.”
“I’m glad that you did. I never want to remember that night again.”
“Good. Memories have a way of haunting us, even when we don’t know it.”
Taehyung’s tone is ominous. Instead of asking him what he means, you let his weighted silence fall around you, propelling the both of you toward the town.
As you get closer, houses and other roads begin to pop up. You see the pathways leading up to the homes of your neighbors, pointing out each one to Taehyung along with filling him in on summaries of their family histories and gossip. He listens with a conspiratorial smirk, gasping and asking you scandalous questions as you whisper rumors you’ve long heard from eavesdropping on your parents.
Gossiping with Taehyung is nice. You feel lighter than you had the day before, nearly skipping as you near the town proper. You start passing people on the road. Normally, you’d greet the ones you know. Now, you hear gasps as people flinch when they see you, making signs with their hands to ward off evil.
You blink in surprise, glancing at Taehyung for his reaction. He frowns when he sees the second group of people do it. By the third, he pulls a snarling face at them, making a child cry. You jam your finger in his ribs and he hisses in pain, shoving lightly back.
“What?” he demands. “You’re not evil. That sign doesn’t do anything, either. If one of the more malevolent deities wanted to snatch them, they would.”
“Really?”
Taehyung rubs his ribs where you poked him. You pass the bakery owned by the Yen family, heavenly smells wafting out the door. “Of course they would,” he huffs. “Most deities aren’t bound by the rules and logic the mortals try to make to create a sense of safety from them. Many can simply do what they want.”
“Then why don’t they?”
“Because of Eternals, like Yoongi. The gods who are always here, never changing. That’s why they’re called Eternals.”
“I see. There’s seven of them, right?” Taehyung hums the affirmative. As you pass a music shop, Taehyung slows. His hands are linked behind his back as he eyes the instruments through the window and gestures at them. You nod and follow him indoors, the bell on the door above chiming. “So other deities are afraid of them?”
“Of course they are,” Taehyung muses. He stops to admire a mandolin. “Yoongi, for example, is a being that creates dreams themselves. He manipulates reality. He can create things on a whim. He’s almost as powerful as life.”
“Really?”
“What are dreams if not creation? The difference isn’t all that big, though it drives Seokjin mad to admit it.”
“Who?”
Taehyung plucks the string of another instrument. You don’t know what it is, but the note is sharp, making you cringe. “Life, of course.”
“You know Life? What are you?”
He glances at you sidelong. “We’re supposed to learn about you first. I’m doing a lot of talking.”
“Not like it’s hard to get you going,” you mutter.
Taeyung shoots you a scowl, but is interrupted by the shop owner coming around the corner. He’s a man in his late thirties, greeting Taehyung politely and wiping his hands on his trousers. He asks Taehyung if he’s looking for anything and just as Taehyung leans out of the way to reveal you standing behind him, the shop owner’s eyes go to you and he gasps, stumbling backward.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” he whispers, his back bumping into a shelf of items. You feel a shiver slip down your spine as you stare at him, arms tingling. He makes the symbol to ward off evil, the whites of his eyes wild. “Evil. Evil creature, you are a demon. You do not-”
“Another word,” Taehyung cuts in, his voice dark in a tone you’ve never heard. “And I’ll show you what evil is, sir.”
“G-god of Light spare me.”
“Your God of Light won’t answer.” Taehyung spins on his heel, facing you. His expression is thunder, his gaze dark and eyes wild as he hisses, “Speak their name all you wish. It's not daytime in here, sir.”
For the two weeks you’ve known Taehyung, you’ve never seen him like this. The room feels oppressive and dark, and you swear the lights have dimmed, shadows pressing up against the wall as Taehyung strides forward and passes you, taking your arm firmly in his hand.
Taehyung escorts you out of the store, walking swiftly. When you hit daylight, the oppressive dark sheds itself immediately. Taehyung’s presence dims with the sun beating down on him and turning his skin copper, black hair shining almost blue in the light.
He lets go of your arm and shoots you a troubled gaze. “Don’t listen to him,” he grunts. “You’re not a demon, nor are you evil.”
“My parents called me the same thing.” He scowls and begins pacing. To keep him moving, you start walking toward the other side of town where the old cemetery and abandoned church is. You don’t know why you go there, but you’re drawn to it. “They called me a demon.”
“Demons are much nastier. You might be annoying, but certainly not a demon.”
You scowl and he shrugs. “I didn’t realize everyone here thought I died. I thought I would come back and it would be…”
“Normal?” You shrug a shoulder.
The houses on the edge of town are shabbier than the rest. People hesitate in their doorways, staring at you and the tall, handsome man next to you. You see them do the warding sign as you go, and you squeeze your hands into fists as they do.
Weeds crawl up the side of the old church. The structure leans heavily to the left, the stairs unusable and the ceiling fallen in. Instead of walking up the hazardous steps and inside the dilapidated building, you lead Taehyung around it, where the grass grows higher than your knees and the sound of grasshoppers buzzing by you follows.
A dry-rotted fence surrounds what was once a graveyard. You walk toward it, leading Taehyung until he starts slowing down a few paces behind you. You stop and turn over your shoulder to look at him, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun.
Taehyung looks thoughtful, dark eyes scanning the area. He’s stopped walking entirely, head cocked to the side. “Why’d you bring me here?”
“I don’t know. I just… walked in this direction. I used to come here for the silence, sometimes.”
Taehyung has a strange look on his face. “Is that so?”
“Why do you look like that?”
“How long has this place been here?”
“The church closed before I could remember. Honestly, they said it was haunted by this graveyard, which has been here a lot longer than the church. Even the oldest families in town don’t have their dead buried here. Rumor has it that it was built long before the town was.”
Taehyung starts walking normally again. Side by side, you begin to navigate around the graveyard. “And you come here? Why?”
“It’s quiet. When I was too young to stay at the house alone, my mom would bring me to town while she ran errands. I was allowed to explore, but I liked to come here.”
“Most kids are afraid of places of the dead.”
You shrug. “It was quiet, and it gave me time to imagine things. I liked to make up fantasies about the old gods here or… what I imagined they might be. Of heroes descended from them, maybe.”
“And you felt drawn here?”
You startle when a grasshopper shoots across the grass in front of you. You laugh as it vanishes into the foliage. “Yeah, it just felt… safe.”
“Strange.”
“Am I allowed to ask why or are you going to complain you’re talking too much again?” He snorts and gestures for you to continue. “Why is that strange? Beyond the fact that it’s, you know, a graveyard.”
Sighing, Taehyung squints up at the line of trees nearby. His hand hovers along the tops of the grass as he runs it over each blade, letting the tips tickle his hands. You’re almost waist high in grass, glancing down to make sure you don’t step into any holes.
“This place is old. The people of the church felt haunted because they were. Death owns this land.”
You frown. “Well, the dead are here. The other graveyard doesn’t feel the same.”
“You misunderstand me. Death - the Eternal. His presence is all over. Someone important to him must be buried here.”
“Oh.”
You stop and think about that. Turning to look at the unmarked and lime washed tombstones, you scan for any sign of Death. You have no idea what you’re looking for. Ivy and time have taken over most of the concrete slabs, and none of the names or dates are legible by now. They’re just hewn stone, buried in green and grime.
But you feel something here, a tingling on the back of your neck like the one you felt in the woods by your house. A chill wind blows over the land, sweeping the grass and rattling the trees. You feel the breeze against your neck, cool as fingers trailing down your spine.
Suddenly, you feel a buzz on your skin. It’s not so different from Yoongi’s presence, and it chills you.
You look up at Taehyung with wide, fearful eyes. He smiles and shakes his head. “You don’t need to be afraid of Death. Death is neither good nor bad, he just is. He only takes those who are ready.”
“Have you met - um - Death?”
Taehyung nods. “He is a man of few words, but Namjoon is unwaveringly kind and wise.”
“Strange that I was drawn to coming here.” You head back toward the town. The sun passes its zenith and makes its way into the early afternoon. “Is this whole place filled with Eternals or what?”
“No, it’s actually a rather unremarkable location. Namjoon lingers in many places. Yoongi was simply drawn here.”
“By what?”
Instead of answering the question, Taehyung sticks his hands in his pockets. “Show me more of your town.”
So you do. Taehyung is a good companion. Where Yoongi would quietly observe and make sounds to indicate that he’s listening and admires the things you’re talking about, Taehyung asks questions. You realize he’s a tactile person as well. He touches things as he walks by them, brushing his fingers on fabric, touching jewelry at vendor stands.
Everywhere you go is a similar reaction to the instrument store. People seem happy to see Taehyung at first before they see you, fear making them lean away and ward you off. You realize you don’t know how much time has passed since you vanished from the woods and returned.
When you ask Taehyung, he shrugs and explains that time moves differently and inconsistently. It could have been a day, it could have been a week, it could have been five months. By the looks on the faces of those you pass, you think perhaps it’s been a little longer than you anticipated.
Part of you wonders what lie your parents must have told them about your death. You almost want to ask, but you don’t, anxiety stilling your tongue. You probably wouldn’t be able to get close enough to anyone to ask anyway.
By the time the sun has sunk beyond the horizon and the moon has begun its climb, you and Taehyung stop at the tavern to eat. Your stomach rumbles as you step into the warmth of the room behind Taehyung, and you notice that the place goes quiet.
It’s subtle at first, something you don’t notice as you kick dirt off your shoes, but the hush becomes so intense that you can’t help but look up, gaze sweeping the room as everyone turns to stare at you.
Behind the counter, the barkeep straightens. His name is Sloan - you’ve known him since you were a little girl - and he looks less than happy at your arrival.
“I know I’m pretty,” Taehyung announces loudly, tossing the hair out his eyes. “But you don’t need to stare.”
“You aren’t welcome here,” Sloan says, voice wavering like he’s unsure if he means it. “Begone, demon. We are men and women of life and light!”
You swallow thickly and look around, feeling prickly heat crawl up your neck.
Like at the music shop, something happens to Taehyung, except this time, it’s stronger than before. The candles in the chandelier and on the tables flicker in a phantom wind and darkness pulses in the room. You feel energy rolling off of him and you swear Taehyung gets darker as he steps forward, his presence oppressive and threatening.
There is crying and gasping in the room as he seethes. “We are not demons, and you will not disallow this woman to enter your shops, your homes, or anywhere else she wishes.”
“Taehyung,” you whisper, throat dry.
He doesn’t seem to hear you. You swear there is thunder in the distance. Whatever power belonging to Taehyung is tenfold now that the night sky stretches over the tavern. “Refuse her service, and there will be consequences.”
“Taehyung,” you hiss, snatching his sleeve. You pull his attention to you. His eyes are like two obsidian coins. There is something sharp and lupine about his face, sending your heart hammering. “Stop. This is making it worse.”
“They should not insult you.”
“It’s fine.”
He softens a touch. “It isn’t. You are not… they do not understand you.”
“They never have. Come on, let’s just go.”
For a second, you think he might not. You don’t know what Taehyung is or what he can do. It doesn’t frighten you, though. Because whatever Taehyung is and whatever his intentions are, he’s linked to Yoongi. Yoongi would never put you in harm's way or let Taehyung near you if he was a threat.
Even after such a short period of time, you know this in your heart of hearts.
Taehyung relents and the light returns to the room. No one makes a sound, all eyes on Taehyung as he lets you pull him out of the door and into the night. You immediately feel better outside, the moon washing your skin in light and the stars watching you march into the street.
“You can’t just threaten everyone who insults me,” you snap, though you’re not really mad at him. “They’re only going to hate me more. And they will think you’re a demon when you do that.”
“I’m far more powerful than a demon,” he sniffs primly. “And they should not insult you. You have the favor of Dream. You are -” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Well, you’re far above their station. They know nothing.”
“Far above their station,” you snort, crushing a rock under the toe of your boot. “I’m a girl who was strange when they knew me before they thought I was dead, and now they think I’m a demon walking around with her scary demon husband. Or perhaps they think you are an evil entity.”
“Don’t make that joke around Yoongi,” Taehyung mutters, putting his hands on his hips. Before you can ask what that means, he says, “What if I took you somewhere instead, then?”
You raise your brows and look around. “Where?”
“Well not here. Somewhere familiar to me, where they won’t ostracize you.”
“We’re going to travel in the middle of the night.”
Taehyung gives you a square grin that lights up the world. “Time to learn about how we travel.”
-
You almost vomit on Taehyung’s shoes. He squeals and steps out of the way as you bend over, holding your middle as bile burns its way up your throat and splatters onto the gravel beneath you. It feels like your world is spinning and you’ve lost your center of gravity, having been pulled by something sharp in your stomach into a vortex of what felt like twisting and spinning.
It could only have lasted a second, but Taehyung has to hold you up for a moment as you gasp for air, the taste in your mouth sour and gross. You crane your face to look at him, glaring as he winces. He had given you no warning of what his travel was like or how it would feel.
You’re not looking forward to it again.
“What,” you pant, “was that?”
“Teleportation, mostly. I kind of forgot what it feels like when you’re… human. You get a little scrambled.”
The nausea makes your throat clench and unclench again. You dig your fingers into his arm as you dry heave but nothing comes up. “A little?” you rasp. The world slows its spinning and the watering feeling in your mouth that preludes puking fades. “That was awful.”
“Sorry, it’s different than portaling. That’s more stepping through the door while teleportation is like... Jumping.”
“Don’t jump me again any time soon.”
Taehyung pats your back heartily as you stand up straight. The stars swim above you in a spiraling cosmos. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, waiting as the nausea fades away and the world around you bleeds into the forefront of your attention span.
Noise hums from in front of you. You’re standing in an alleyway, looking up at the side of a building. It looks a bit like an inn, but you can hear the clamor of a crowd and loud voices coming from inside. Each window is curtained, keeping wandering eyes and the moonlight outside.
Taehyung leads you around to the front of the building. It’s two stories and on the first floor there’s a porch filled with chairs and gambling tables. There are men and women draped over the furniture, smoking sweet-smelling cigars and laughing loudly as they throw dice on the table.
Women and men in various states of undress sit on the laps of the others. You feel heat crawl up your neck as you avert your eyes, looking up at the sign hanging over the building that says Desert Rose. Nervousness tingles at the back of your neck as Taehyung strolls up the steps to what you’re sure is a brothel and a gambling den, greeting people as he goes.
You’re shocked that Taehyung knows people here. You’re sure that you’re still in… your dimension, as Yoongi calls it. The people here talk with an accent that is different from what you’re used to, but you still understand the language, even while struggling to keep up with the lilt.
Eyes follow you as Taehyung leads you inside. The air is thick with perfume, smoke, and loud voices. Tables are pressed closely together, filled with people. There’s a bar at the back of the room and a small bard and band in a corner, singing a raucous song with the crowd about Lady Trown who gets around and will go down.
“Where did you bring me?” you ask Taehyung as he guides you through the rowdy room. A woman falls over a card game laughing, her breasts spilling out of her shirt while another woman plants a kiss right on her mouth. “This place is - is -”
There are no words for it. You’ve never been somewhere that is so openly indecent and carnal in your life and yet… the colors and the sounds and the overflowing joy hit you like an arrow to the chest. You can’t help but be drawn to look at the exposed bodies before darting your gaze away, only to be drawn somewhere else out of insatiable curiosity.
“A haven!” Taehyung offers as he leans on the bar. “Two pints of whatever!”
You press close against him, hands shooting to his shirt as someone pushes by you. It’s a little overwhelming and you feel hot all over. Taehyung shoves a wooden tankard of amber liquid into your hands and grins, raising another to his lips before taking several swigs, liquid running down his chin and neck.
He comes away and smacks his lips, giving you a delighted grin. “It’s awful, just the way I like it!”
You take a sip and make a face. The watered-down ale is certainly nothing like the sweet wine Yoongi likes to treat you to over dinner. Taehyung seems to know this, laughing loudly as he leads you through the crowd toward an empty table in the corner.
Back against the wall, you take a moment to look around the room. There are card and dice games being held at multiple tables, alongside other games with rune-marked stones, cups and trinkets that you don’t recognize.
It’s wildly different from anything back home. You’ve never been to a brothel - at least, you think this place qualifies for one, based on the various states of undress and a few couples doing something that makes you avert your eyes - but this is nice. In its own loud and carnal way.
Taehyung people-watches with you. He feeds you information on the faces that he recognizes, lips curling as he gossips. He looks alive and happy, his golden skin glowing with a radiance that seems a little magical.
“So is it my turn to ask questions?” you ask, sipping the awful beer as you look over at Taehyung. His gaze reluctantly strays away from watching a card game where you’re pretty sure the woman who is winning is cheating. “Or do I still have to talk about myself?”
He smirks. “You can ask questions, a deal is a deal.”
“What is this place?”
“The Desert Rose.”
You glare. “What is this place to you?”
Taehyung takes a sip of his ale and grins, winking at you. “A better question. This place is somewhere I used to visit when I wanted to feel alive. When I wanted to feel humanity for its raw intensity.”
“So you’re not human.” He shakes his head. His face grows a little hesitant, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. “What are you?”
“I’m a dream.”
You blink once. Twice. You expect Taehyung to start laughing and indicate that he was teasing you, but he doesn’t. He leans back in his chair, watching you evenly with his dark eyes.
“What?” you finally ask.
“I’m a dream. The second ever, actually.”
You think about what you’ve observed of Taehyung. The way that he seems to draw people in, the animated manner in which he speaks. He seems to contain so many multitudes of the things you know that Yoongi enjoys, and yet so many things that press Yoongi’s buttons and rattle him.
Taehyung is… beautiful. Enchanting. Both to look at, and to talk to. He has a carefree personality and you know he’s magical, having witnessed it in the House of Dreams in snippets but also today, when he became angry and the darkness seemed to swell around him. Not to mention his awful teleportation to wherever you are in the world now.
He is exactly the kind of person you always imagined being the lead in your fantasies. Brave and charming, handsome and adventurous. He looks like he belongs here, melding to the energy around him, fitting in perfectly.
Suddenly, the thought of Taehyung being a dream makes more sense than anything else. A being of infinite possibilities, one who can shape themselves to anyone and anything, who can sense what people want and become that very thing.
You’re not sure what the complexities of dreams are, but you understand the very basics from Yoongi: most dreams are flexible and full of infinite possibilities. It’s what makes them so real, so strong.
“That makes a lot of sense,” you murmur. “So you’re old.”
“Very.”
“If you’re the second dream…” you trail off, thinking about how Yoongi explained how he came to existence. How life dreamed and so he was born. “Yoongi is the first. That’s why you say he is Dream - he is the first and the essence of dreams.”
“Very clever.”
“When you said you came here to feel alive, what did you mean by that?”
He sighs heavily. “Yoongi was born because Life dreamed of - well, making life. And when Yoongi was born, he was the very concept of dreaming itself. Imagination, creation, wonder, hope. It’s why creation and dreaming are so close in their nature. But still, there is a difference between lifeforms and dreams.”
“You wanted to know what it was like to feel life?”
He nods. “Yoongi made me as his first companion. He couldn’t help it, really. He didn’t make me on purpose so much as he thought of someone to spend time with, someone to offset him. To balance him. And then there I was.”
You chew on your lip. There is a distant look in Taehyung’s gaze. He stares at his ale, not drinking anymore. He picks at splinters in the tankard handle, the noise around the two of you a dull roar.
“But?” you offer, sensing his hesitance.
“But,” he agrees, nodding. “When Life created humans, I wondered what the difference was between us. I sort of looked like them and I talked like them, but I wanted to know what it was like to be them. And dreams… They are wonderful. Beautiful. But I was afraid they weren’t real, so I started to visit here. To go places. To see if life was the same as dreams.”
“Is it?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not better, it’s not worse. It’s just different. But I did learn that dreams are as real as life. Perhaps you cannot always see them and feel them depending on where you are, but anything someone dreams here is real there.”
“That’s sort of comforting.”
Taehyung smiles. “It is. Plus, I really enjoy people. They have an edge to them that dreams don’t.”
Someone catches Taehyung’s attention. He turns in his seat, head craning as though he senses something. You follow his line of sight to where a young man descends the stairs leading up to the second floor. He is unlike anything you’ve ever seen, with dark, silky hair tucked behind his ears, full lips that pull into a smile as someone greets him, and sharp, dark eyes that crinkle when he laughs.
He’s beautiful. Suddenly you think that this might be what a dream truly looks like. Taehyung is all dark and shadows, but the man Taehyung watches is lightness and magic, his face so perfect that you cannot help but imagine it must be the result of someone carefully painting every feature.
Your eyes flicker back to Taehyung when the man leans on the bar, talking to the barmaid behind the counter. Taehyung doesn’t move. You don’t even think he’s breathing. He sits in his chair, knuckles paling under the grip he has on the back of his seat, his eyes filled with such sudden longing that you have to look away.
“Who is that?” you ask gently. Taehyung doesn’t seem to hear you. He watches and watches, wanting to look nowhere else but at the bar. “Taehyung?”
“His name is Jimin.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
Taehyung nods. “He’s like you.”
“Like me?”
“He dreams loud enough for us to hear it. For me to hear it. I’ve been coming to this place long before he existed. A silly coincidence that he exists here, too.”
“Fate, perhaps?”
That makes Taehyung turn around. His expression is dark and he’s frowning. “Don’t start talking about Hoseok,” Taehyung mutters. “Lest he show up.”
You didn’t mean Yoongi’s sibling Fate, but you realize that’s who Taehyung is talking about. Your eyes drift back to where Jimin is at the bar, sipping a glass of amber liquid. As though he senses eyes on him, his gaze sweeps the bar until it lands on Taehyung, who straightens immediately.
Jimin smiles and it’s like watching the first ray of sun break over the horizon. You can’t help but blink at his radiant beauty, completely taken aback by it as Jimin pushes off of the bar and begins heading your direction.
Taehyung swivels in his chair, taking in a few calming breaths. You giggle and he looks up at you, giving you a pitiful smile. You reach across the table and squeeze his hand quickly. “Don’t be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous!”
“You definitely are.”
Before Taehyung can hiss a rebuttal at you, Jimin sidesteps a woman and grins at Taehyung. He drags his gaze to you and startles, as though he had not realized you were there, eyes going round and mouth forming an ‘o’.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with anyone,” Jimin says. His voice is soft and smooth, immediately comforting. “I wanted to come say hello.”
“Hi,” Taehyung breathes, blinking up at Jimin as though he is lost in starlight. Perhaps he is, you think. “Your hair is longer than the last time I saw you.”
Jimin flushes, a hand coming up to touch the ends of his hair gently. “Yeah, I thought I would grow it out.”
“It looks great.”
For a moment, they stare at one another, Taehyung grinning with his eyes gleaming, and Jimin soft with his eyes scrunched. You look at the table, trying not to disrupt whatever spell they’re under as they peer at one another, but it seems Jimin senses your presence still. His eyes flicker to you and he raises a brow, questioning.
Taehyung fumbles to introduce you, turning and giving you a sheepish grin. You smile and stretch your hand over to shake Jimin’s. His hands are small and delicate but his grip is firm. “It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung wanted to show me this place because he enjoys the people so much - I believe that includes you.”
Jimin smirks and shrugs a shoulder while Taehyung looks for a chair, yanking it away from someone to give Jimin a place to sit. He does, throwing Taehyung a grateful smile. “Hmm, is that so? Has he said nice things about me?”
“The nicest. In fact, the whole reason we came here is because he wanted to introduce me to the amazing Jimin.”
Taehyung shoots you a look that tells you to shut up, but you hide your grin in your tankard as Jimin raises a brow, glancing at Taehyung.
Watching Taehyung and Jimin is comedic and sweet. Taehyung isn’t an entirely different person around Jimin, but he becomes softer at the edges, his smiles gentler and his laughs louder. The longing in Taehyung’s gaze when he thinks Jimin isn’t looking is palpable, and even as a bystander and a friend, you feel a pang watching the two of them dance around one another.
For his part, Jimin seems equally enthralled. He watches Taehyung with rapt attention, asking questions and touching Taehyung gently everywhere he can - the tops of Taehyung’s hands, his arm, his elbow. When Taehyung turns around to watch the table next to you topple over, you realize he’s unaware that Jimin is looking at him as though begging for Taehyung to see.
You see. And you want.
Never before had your parents inspired much desire for love in you. While they worked well together, you still can’t call what they had happy or loving. Functional, sure. Successful, even. But they did not look at one another the way Taehyung and Jimin seem to, and you can’t help but suddenly feel like that is something you want.
Someone to look at you when they think you’re not looking in a way that implies you are their sun and moon. Someone who smiles with such mirth at something you do or say that you can feel the heat of it.
Jimin gets up to refill the drinks, scooping yours with a grin before vanishing in the crowd. Taehyung watches him go, craning his neck to ensure he has eyes on Jimin as he makes his way to the bar.
“Have you told him you’re in love with him?”
Taehyung shakes his head, eyes never leaving where Jimin is leaning over the bar to order. “There’s no point.”
“What? Why not?”
“I’m a dream. He’s a human. We could never be something.”
“Oh. Surely there’s a way?”
Taehyung turns to look at you, the joy on his face slipping to be replaced with a soft sadness. He shakes his head again, picking at the splinters on the table. “I would be no good for him. We live in two different worlds… I come and go… He deserves a normal, human life. We could never be something.”
Jimin starts to head back toward the table. Taehyung shakes off the melancholy and smiles just as bright when Jimin returns, as though he wasn’t sad only a moment ago. You accept the refilled drink from Jimin with a weak smile.
Taehyung’s words cycle through your mind as the two men fall into giggling conversation, and all you can think about is a pair of dark cat eyes, a soft raspy voice, and a man who is made of dreams.
We could never be something.
-
“I was starting to worry, you know?”
Yoongi’s voice makes you blink. You realize you’re standing among the wisteria, the breeze carrying their sweet scent over your warm skin. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. He’s leaning against a tree, his long hair down and dancing in the breeze. The thin white shirt he wears does little to hide the lines of his stomach and chest today, making you avert your eyes.
“Why?” you ask, voice steadier than you feel.
You walk toward a low-hanging vine, bringing your hands up to brush along the purple petals. You feel the tree shiver under your touch. You sense it, like it purrs, a response that is hard to explain but you innately know.
“It took you longer than usual to fall asleep.”
“Can you not see me when I’m not asleep?”
“I could, but prying is rude. I only see you when you come to me.”
You turn to look at him sharply. He seems a little smug at that, the corners of his full lips twitching like he’s fighting a smirk. Your heart skips a beat for a moment before Taehyung’s words from that night play in your mind. We could never be something.
And yet Yoongi is implying it’s you who visits him.
You scowl and turn away from him suddenly. Yoongi makes a sound like a sigh and pushes off of the tree, his footsteps quiet as a whisper. “Have I upset you?”
“I want to go to sleep.”
He hesitates. You cannot see his expression, but you can picture it perfectly: brows drawn together, mouth pouted slightly, head cocked. His confusion is evident when he says, “You are asleep.”
“You know what I mean.”
Silence, for a moment. Then, in that soft, rasping voice that you know so well, he murmurs, “Goodnight, then.”
-
Silence greets you when you wake up the next morning. Your home is still empty - you have not seen either of your parents since you arrived the night before. Either you’re coming and going at hours they’re not around or they’re avoiding you. The latter is most likely, and you certainly don’t mind.
Your day goes similarly to the day before. This time, when you walk through the woods, you feel a little more of a spark. You’re sure it has to do with your conversation with Taehyung, his words about dreams and reality being different but equally powerful pouring a little bit of magic back into the woods you loved so dearly.
Still, you miss the other realm and the House of Dreams, even if you’re a little embarrassed by your dream last night, recalling the way you dismissed Yoongi.
Sitting on the ground with your back pressed against a cypress tree, you let out a heavy sigh and close your eyes, your arms hugging around your middle. You try not to think too hard about the way Yoongi looked leaning against the tree, dark eyes drinking you in.
Yoongi occupies more than his fair share of thoughts. You hate it, the way your mind strays to him, thinking this is something Yoongi would like or Yoongi would find this funny. Only two weeks and he and Taehyung are suddenly all you know, your experiences with them painting most of your thoughts.
Thoughts of Taehyung don’t plague you, though.
The fluttering feeling every time you think of Yoongi has not faded with time or distance. It might be easier if he didn’t visit your dreams every night - or if you didn’t visit him in your dreams, which you don’t know how to do.
But Taehyung’s forlorn words come drifting back to you, reminding you that there is some distinction between humans and dreams. That even for Taehyung, it cannot work.
When you return home, your parents still aren’t there. You busy yourself with lunch and then begin practicing your letters, tracing them until your hand is cramping and your head is starting to hurt. You manage to take up most of the afternoon that way, focused solely on your studies and trying to read through your work.
Just as evening falls, Taehyung appears in the yard, hands on his hips as he looks up at your window, whistling to catch your attention. You grin when you see him, happy to have a friend, even if it’s just Taehyung. You don’t ask why Yoongi doesn’t come with him - the Eternal is busy, you’re sure - but you’re pleased to just have Taehyung.
It becomes a routine. It’s not as thrilling as your life in the House of Dreams, but it isn’t as terrible as you thought it would be. The few times that you do see your parents, they glare at you as though you have become something evil in their house, lurking and stealing their joy.
You say nothing to them and they stay away from you.
It’s the same in town. You only visit with Taehyung, otherwise you are too afraid to go on your own. The villagers say nothing when they see the two of you walking around and visiting the old church, but they glare and you catch them doing the signs to ward off evil as you pass by.
Still, Taehyung makes it worth it. He visits you nightly, whisking you away to the Desert Rose, which has become a refuge for you. You’re no better at teleporting, but you manage not to vomit on his shoes each time you do it.
Tonight, the energy is thrumming at the Desert Rose. Your gaze lingers longer on those around you and you even introduce yourself to the people that Taehyung is familiar with. Though Taehyung opts to play a game of dice, you do not. You’re content to watch, standing over his shoulder with your arms crossed over your chest.
You feel… alive. Just like Taehyung described when he started coming here. It’s so different from your life before, and after over a week of being around people who seem to spill over with joy without restraint, you feel yourself loosening up. Becoming something a little different. Someone who wants. Someone who wants openly.
You think about Yoongi. Once he’d told you that he wasn’t just Eternal of dreams. He also has power over desire, and he believes in indulgence. He wants to teach you to indulge more. It suddenly makes all the more sense that Taehyung likes it here. He’s someone who dives in head first to things, taking any bet someone throws his way and snatching drinks off of passing trays.
Even his desire for Jimin is open and obvious, though you’re sure Taehyung doesn’t know that.
It’s a lovely night. You feel warm all over, the drink getting to you as you guzzle down the remainder of your cider, which you favor far more than the ale. Jimin clambors onto the table, a cup in hand as he starts yelling the words to the song the band is playing in the corner.
Taehyung begins to slam his wooden cup on the table in time with the beat, yelling the words and standing up as the room joins in, stamping their feet and slamming on tables. You don’t know the words but you laugh loudly, slamming your palms against the top of the table. They sting with the force of your slap, but it feels good.
You feel good. Happy. Drunk. A little dizzy as the table wobbles and you dive out of the way as Jimin comes tumbling down. It doesn’t stop you from taking a shower of beer from Jimin’s cup, dousing you in warm liquid as you shriek and laugh.
Taehyung catches Jimin, of course. They’re a tangled mess of limbs and wet with beer all the same, pointing at you and laughing as you blink through the drink dripping down your face. You flick beer at them with the liquid on your hands, making them howl.
“Gross! Jimin!”
“I’m so sorry,” he gasps through the laughter, his arms slung tight around Taehyung’s neck as Jimin leans into him. “I slipped!”
“You owe me a new shirt!”
Jimin nods, grinning so broadly his eyes are crescents as he stands properly and beckons you. “Come on, both of you. I’ll get you new shirts that aren’t soaked.
Upstairs is a series of private rooms. The hall is lit with flickering sconces and the plush carpet mutes your footsteps. Jimin leads you and Taehyung, giggling, to a door. He thrusts it open and the three of you tip inside, stopping short at the scene in front of you.
Your hands fly to your mouth to mute your gasp, but Taehyung and Jimin collapse into another fit of laughter. If the two people in the bed are bothered by the interruption, they don’t show it. They are a tableau of pleasure, a woman laying back on the bed, arching upward as she lets out a moan. Her skin is slick with sweat, nipples hard as she teases them with one hand, another hand slipping between her legs to cradle the head of someone there.
The shock roots you to the spot. You can’t look away, completely hypnotized by the way the person between the woman’s legs moans, pressing their mouth further into her, the wet smack of their mouth loud over the woman’s trembling moans.
You’ve never seen such a raw, carnal exchange. As Taehyung apologizes and grabs you and Jimin, pulling you back out into the hallway, you know you’ll never forget that momentary vision. Even as Jimin directs you to the right room to change your shirt in, you replay the scene over and over in your head, thinking of a different detail every single time: the pleasure on the woman’s face, the delicate bow of her back, the soft swells of her breasts, the wet sounds of the mouth between her legs.
It haunts you. You swallow thickly when you’re done changing, skin still smelling like beer. Your mind wanders to Yoongi, wondering if this is what he was talking about when he spoke of desire. If he also meant physical desire, the indulgence of the erotic variety.
The thought shames you so thoroughly you’re silent the rest of the night. You’re embarrassed by your immediate curiosity - angry that you even entertained the thought of being in that position with Yoongi, no matter how fleeting the idea was.
Yoongi certainly did not mean he was going to teach you that - did he?
You shake the thoughts from your head and focus on reality. Of course he didn’t mean that. Taehyung was right when he spoke about the relationships between humans and dreams - it could never be something.
-
Sweat trickles down your neck slowly. You feel every inch of it, your skin sensitive and over-warm. Your stomach clenches and your hands twist in your sheets as a hot mouth presses against your throat, teeth scraping, tongue licking.
An inferno grows inside of you as the mouth sinks lower. You hear your heaving breaths, loud and ragged. Your heart beats in your ears, the staccato almost louder than the whimper that leaves your mouth when a wet, messy kiss is placed on your collarbone.
It’s madness. It’s tortuous. It’s glorious, this feeling thrumming through you, making you twist your head to the side, muscles clenching and letting loose over and over again, your body completely at war with itself.
But it feels so good.
One of your hands shoots to the silky, dark hair of the person kissing your chest. You card your fingers through soft strands, tugging a little. A deep, throaty moan escapes the lips pressed to your skin, breath hot and warm.
Dark eyes meet yours, lips parted and swollen, Yoongi’s pupils blown and -
Panic explodes. You realize it’s Yoongi kissing you this way. Yoongi’s hands skimming up your sides, Yoongi’s mouth pressing searing kisses to your flesh, Yoongi’s moan that is falling from his lips, honey sweet.
“We can’t,” you whisper, though dream-Yoongi just stares at you, eyes fathomless. “We could never be something.”
“Of course we can,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. “You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”
The weight of his gaze is blazing. You feel your skin burn under the heat of it, you feel like it’s harder to breathe, you feel the sweat run down your spine, your arms, you feel like you’re overheating, it’s hot it’s too-
-
You wake up to something screeching. For a moment, daylight blinds you. You hold your hands in front of your face, shielding your eyes from the light. But the light is an inferno of heat against your hand, making you gasp and choke on thick air as you blink sleep away, trying to make sense of where you are.
Fire. It isn’t daylight you’ve woken up to, it’s fire.
Leaping up from bed, you throw your sheets off, scrambling to push yourself against the wall. The flames are already high, licking toward the ceiling and filling your room with thick, grey smoke as the fire eats at the old wood of your house.
The screech comes again, the shutters on your window rattling. Heart pounding, you slide your hand along the wall, fingers trembling as you press them into the wood, trying to find the metal latch to open them. You cover the lower half of your face with your opposite arm, coughing into it.
Your fingers slip on the latch, sweaty and shaking. You inch closer to the window, getting a solid grip on the metal and flipping it upward. The latch clacks and the windows swing open, a gust of wind entering the room. It makes matters worse, the oxygen fueling the fire into a rage as it climbs higher and jumps towards your bed.
You look frantically around your room, realizing you can’t take anything. The writing desk in the corner is aflame, all of the sheets of paper and your hard-earned practice curling into smoke as they’re consumed, your letters from Yoongi turning to ash.
“No!” you sob, realizing those things are lost forever.
Again, there’s a wild screech. You turn to look out the window to see a large, brown owl - Guardian, you realize - screeching, flapping its great wings, gold eyes fixated on the fire. It yells at you again, as though imploring you to move.
You take a breath and dive out the window. For a moment as you fall toward the ground, you’re reminded that this is the second time you’re having to use it to escape danger. That thought sinks like a stone in your stomach, going down, down, down until it rests weighty in your gut.
The smack of the ground rattles you. Every part of you hurts, bones jolting as you roll until you’re flat on your back, gasping as the air leaves your lungs momentarily, knocked out of you. Scrambling up despite your limbs protesting in pain, you look up at the fire crawling over your house.
That’s when you notice it - the noise and the yelling of voices. Inside your home, with the roaring and crackling of the fire, you couldn’t hear the crowd outside. Now, you see them in full. They carry torches and farm tools, some of them with axes and hoes, others with scythes.
They don’t see you yet, giving you a long moment to stare open-mouthed as the pieces of the puzzle slide together. They’ve set your home on fire because of you - they’ve tried to kill you. Because they think you’re a demon and because they think you’re an evil creature.
Heart in your throat, you scan the lines of the faces. Toward the edge, you see your parents. A group of women consoles your mother, holding her by the shoulders gently as she stares into the orange flame. Your father stands a few feet away, almost by himself, watching and watching and watching.
They knew you were asleep. And your window had not been closed before bed - you’d been leaving it open at night so Guardian could come and go as he pleased.
You sit there on the ground, staring in shock, for too long. Someone notices you and points, screaming something that you cannot hear over the blood rushing in your ears. Panic seizes you and you scramble to your feet, sliding a few times as the crowd runs at you.
There’s no time to see what your parents do. The image of them watching their home burn with the thought of you inside is fresh in your memory, a razor-sharp cut that flays you open as you turn and run. Run toward the woods where Nathaniel chased you on that fateful night.
Run to the woods you almost died in. Run to the woods where Yoongi swooped in and made a promise to protect you.
Darkness descends. You think for a moment as you enter the woods that you won’t get lucky a second time, that your luck has run out. It’s the panic that scrambles your thoughts, and the memories of Nathaniel chasing you through these woods make you stumble and fall.
You don’t make it far. You trip over a tree root and tumble into strong arms. The smell of clove and cinnamon is overpowering as you look up at Yoongi, who pulls you into his chest. You let him, sliding your arms around his middle and pressing your face into his neck as you squeeze your eyes shut.
“I’ve got you, little lamb.” His voice is dark as the shadows that wrap around you, cool and soothing to the touch. “They cannot hurt you.”
As Yoongi whisks you away like that fateful night, you hear the echoing voice scream behind you. Devil! Demon King! The Dark God!
-
“It’s my fault,” Yoongi murmurs, cradling your face to inspect it for the tenth time. He’s crouching in front of you, dark eyes wild as he inspects your face for any damage. You pull your jaw from his grasp - even if his touch tingles pleasantly - and look in the other direction. “I should have known.”
“Yes,” Taehyung snaps behind Yoongi, arms crossed and presence thundering. “You should have.”
There is no fire going in the library tonight. You have a feeling Yoongi has extinguished it for obvious reasons, but you say nothing. You look over Yoongi’s dark head to where Taehyung is raging, his face pinched with anger. You give him a look and he tosses his hands in the air.
“What?” he demands. “It’s true.”
“Taehyung.”
“I’m not going to lie to him. He should have known sending you back was an idiotic idea. Thinking anyone would have accepted you was an oversight.”
Yoongi grits his teeth and stands. You watch as he visibly tries to control his frustration, taking a step back from you. Tonight, he’s dressed in all black. His cloak is still on and his necklaces pool at his throat, the silver cold in the dark of the library. His hair is pulled back out of his face and you think he looks like the real Eternal, tonight.
He turns to Taehyung. “You know why I sent her back.”
“Yes, your fucked up sense of morality and-”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not sitting right here,” you snap. You ball your fists in your lap. You’re still dressed in night clothes and the scent of ash and sweat is heavy on your skin. You stare at your hands. “I want to go to bed.”
“Alright.” Yoongi’s extended hand appears in front of you. You drag your eyes up to meet his. Gone is the anger and severity, replaced only with a soft, almost fond expression. “I’ll walk you.”
Putting your hand in Yoongi's, you let him pull you out of the chair.
You could be mad at him if you tried. Perhaps it would be easy to blame Yoongi for sending you back to keep some semblance of normalcy in your life. Maybe you would feel lighter if you got angry with him for promising to protect you, but only being able to physically do so, unable to shield you from the hatred of your community.
If you tried, perhaps you could blame him for not letting you drown in the first place. For bringing you here with the fantasy that you could exist with one foot in each world.
You’re not mad at him, though. Unlike Taehyung, you don’t need to wonder why Yoongi wanted you to spend two weeks in the real world. The real world is yours. It’s where you belong. To want some sort of normalcy for you or hope that you’d be able to pick up your life there anew was perhaps shortsighted, but rooted in the desire to do good for you.
So you’re not angry with Yoongi, though you’re not sure you’re pleased either.
The walk to your room is silent. Yoongi has let go of your hand but he walks close enough that your arms brush, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing, and he seems content to let you keep your thoughts to yourself.
This isn’t how you wanted to see him for the first time since your two weeks spent in your realm.
The inside of your room is warm, but there’s no fire. You almost ask if he’s doused every flame in the house, and protest that you’re not afraid, but you don’t. He follows you into your room and shuts the door behind him. You walk toward the chaise and sit on it, looking up at where he hovers by the door.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes finding yours. The emotions there are deep, but unreadable. “It was foolish of me to think they’d accept you as you were. Foolish to think that maybe the relationship with your parents might mend.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I am thousands of years old. Humankind has not changed so much in their ability to fear the unknown and react violently. I do know better, but I…” You wait for him to explain further, but he doesn’t. Yoongi lets the sentence drift off into the night. Instead of finishing it, he ventures, “Are you sure you’re unharmed?”
“Yeah, Guardian was screeching at the window.”
“Guardian?”
“Yeah, the owl. I assumed you sent it to watch over me.”
Yoongi frowns. “No, that’s what Taehyung was for. I did not…”
“What?” You see the look on his face change, shifting from confused to steel calm. “What is it?”
“Hoseok,” Yoongi mutters, turning to exit your room. “Try to get some sleep. I have a meddling owl to deal with.”
As he moves to close the door, you lean forward. “Yoongi?” He looks up, eyes wide, expression soft. He looks like a dark star, just then. The light from the window makes him glow from within, his eyes endless pools, his power ebbing in the room, a constant energy. “Thank you.”
His mouth turns downward. “For what?”
“Saving me. Again.”
His eyes darken. “Your safety will always be paramount to me. I’ll do better.”
“I think you’re doing the best you are able.”
“Thank you for saying so.”
Silence hangs between the two of you. It’s heavy, filled with friction that wasn’t there before. You squirm where you sit, suddenly unable to meet the set of eyes pinned to you. You’d forgotten what his gaze could do to you in person, and now the full force of it is dizzying.
“Goodnight, little lamb.”
-
A gentle scratch sounds on the other side of the window. You look up from your writing desk to the windows facing the mountains. Beyond the first sprawling peaks, you see the tallest of them all, the dark mountain wreathed in shadow and lightning.
The thunder rolls, vibrating your bones. You stare at the mountain, feeling the hair at the back of your neck stand on end. You grip the quill tight.
Beneath the hum of thunder, you hear a scratching on the glass again. You squint, but you see nothing there. Just open air and those ominous mountains in the back, watching you as you scrawl your letters.
Carefully, you set the quill down and get up. The floor is cold as you walk toward the window, which is strange. The floor is always warm in your room, as are the walls and most of the House of Dreams, fueled by whatever magic lives through Yoongi.
Near the glass, you almost feel how cold the window is. You frown and lift a hand, pressing a single finger against a pane. It’s freezing to the touch and you yank your hand back, perplexed as you stare at the single fingerprint left by your warm skin.
The fingerprint fades but the scratching sound does not. A gentle scritch scritch scritch, like a nail on the window.
“My betrothed,” someone whispers. Your blood runs cold and you whirl around, expecting to find someone standing in your bathroom. “Won’t you open the window for me? It’s so cold outside.”
Fear turns your stomach into acid. Your hands begin to shake as you stare into the emptiness of your room, suddenly feeling like it’s darker. Did the ceilings get taller? Is your room blurry at the edges? The scratching on the window intensifies, and with trembling lips, you turn to look over your shoulder.
There’s nothing outside, but there’s a shadowy reflection on the glass. A little taller than you. A little wider.
“Betrothed,” Nathaniel whispers again. “Won’t you let me in to reunite?”
For a moment, there is silence. The shadow doesn’t move. You don’t dare breathe. The shadow leaps at you and a scream tears through you -
Hands press you into something soft. You kick and scream, lashing out. Sheets tangle your legs and stick to your sweaty skin. Suddenly it feels like you can’t breathe and you thrash wildly, screaming at the top of your lungs as you claw at whatever’s holding you down.
Panic like never before seizes you. Your head smacks into something hard and it knocks you backward, suddenly dizzy as a hand comes up to your head automatically. It hurts where your fingers press into the skin, and you’re momentarily subdued by the way the room spins; the pain morphs your panic into confusion.
Breathing heavily, you blink your eyes rapidly, tears streaming down your face and vision a little blurry as you try and put the pieces together. Finally, you realize Taehyung is sitting on the floor next to your bed with his hand pressed against his forehead, in a similar fashion to your current state. Yoongi stands next to him, hands held up tentatively, as though he is about to grab you or has just let you go.
Silence hangs in the air, your breathing ragged. Your head - which you can surmise you’ve smacked against Taehyung’s - throbs wildly. As though sensing your discomfort and sticky thoughts, Yoongi’s eyes flicker away from your gaze to your head.
“May I fix that?” he asks slowly, voice gentle. “You smacked heads quite hard. I’m concerned you may be concussed.”
“Concussed,” you repeat back slowly. The word feels heavy on your tongue. “Right.”
Yoongi’s face colors with concern and he gestures toward you, asking permission again. It takes you another minute to put it together, but you nod dumbly, watching as he steps forward very slowly, dark eyes looking for any sign of protest or panic from you.
When you don’t bolt or swing at him, he takes another step toward you, hands reaching up toward your skull. You flinch when he reaches near and he stops, hands hovering. You can feel the heat of his skin a hair's breadth away, feel the magic skimming along him where he hesitates.
You look up at Yoongi. His eyes are wide and full of concern, his brows pulled up. His tongue darts out to lick his lips nervously as his eyes shift from your head to your eyes, trying to assess what to do. You smell cinnamon and clove and it calms you a little.
This is Yoongi. Not Nathaniel. Yoongi, who saved you from the grips of that hateful man and who brought you here. Somewhere that made you happy.
“It’s okay,” you whisper. You feel tired suddenly, like your adrenaline is waning and the aftereffects are bleeding you out. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, pressing his hands gently to your head. You wince, the lump there giving a painful throb as he does.
“Maybe apologize,” Taehyung mutters from his spot on the floor. “Are you going to give me magic hand, too?”
“Silence, Taehyung.” Yoongi’s voice is cutting. It’s a voice you’ve never heard him use with Taehyung, your eyes shooting up to his in shock. He pays you no mind, focused on his hands.
Warmth emanates from his palms. Immediately you feel the tingle of magic. It’s soothing, making your eyes flutter as you become dizzy again. You let the warmth wash over you, accompanied by a peculiar array of senses: dark spicy smells; the feeling of velvet against your skin; the taste of cherry wine; a warm breath against your lips.
You shiver, head rolling back a little as it grows heavy and you grow drowsy suddenly, limbs weighted, mind fading.
“I didn’t… I didn’t know that was a dream.” Yoongi grimaces and says nothing. “Why didn’t that feel like a dream, Yoongi?”
“Sleep,” Yoongi murmurs, and his voice feels very far away. “You’ll be fine, now. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“Thank you.”
“An easy fix.”
Yoongi removes his hand and you catch his wrist gently, eyes opening for a moment. “No,” you slur, speech heavy as the exhaustion pulls at you. “Thank you for saving me.”
You don’t know if you mean before, or when your neighbors came for you, or now. Maybe you mean all of it. Maybe you mean saving you from a life that you hated and bringing you here. You mean it nonetheless, though you’re unsure from where the bravery came to say it.
Dropping Yoongi’s wrist, you fall backward unceremoniously onto your bed. There is no fear of Nathaniel scratching at the glass anymore, your mind mostly empty, save for the smell of cinnamon and clove.
Yoongi and Taehyung gather to leave your room, and as you fade, you catch the tiniest bit of conversation from Taehyung. “... need to teach her. It’s only going to get worse… spinner.”
Sleep takes you.
-
Being back in the House of Dreams feels like home. Though the lingering feeling of hot flame and the look on your parents’ faces as they watch their home burn still haunts you, you feel safer than you have in the last week.
In the House of Dreams, there's no one to mutter prayers and sign wards against evil as you pass by. There’s no one glaring at you - except Taehyung, who pouts when you steal the last of the honey for your toast at breakfast. It’s just Yoongi and Taehyung, who talk more chipper than usual at breakfast.
You eye Yoongi carefully. He sits at the head of the table, dressed in a beautiful, jade-colored silk shirt. His hair is pulled back in a bun, earrings dangling as he leads forward and plucks melon from the bowl in front of him.
Yoongi lifts the fruit to his mouth. You pause chewing your toast, eyes focused on the way he bites into the fruit, lips plush around it, a bead of juice running down his chin. Suddenly you’re thinking about the night at The Desert Rose, a head between legs, a back that’s arched, skin sweaty-
Taehyung clears his throat from across the table and draws your attention. He’s staring at you with thinly veiled amusement, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. You scowl and take a large bite of your toast before swallowing what's in your mouth, feeling heat bloom in your cheeks and neck.
Yoongi is none the wiser, chewing happily on his fruit as he scratches Tiara under her chin. She chirps like a bird and purrs like a cat, letting out small curls of smoke everytime she puffs happily.
Your mouth twitches in a smile as you look at your plate, happy to be back with them.
“I want you to come to the Dream Tower with me today,” Yoongi ventures lightly. You snap your gaze up in surprise. He looks casual, as though he’s not offering you to come to the place he works, filled with magic and dreams. “I think you could help me.”
“Me?”
His mouth quirks. “Is there another human prone to trouble around here that I’m not aware of?”
“I thought you blamed yourself?”
“So I do. But yes - you.”
“How do you want me to help?”
Yoongi grins as he pops another piece of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You’ll see.”
Despite your excitement and the promise of a look inside Yoongi’s lair, even him asking for your help doesn’t earn you a break from daily reading and writing lessons. When Yoongi gestures to the assigned work on your desk, you throw him a severe look followed by a pout. As endeared as he seems, he is unwavering, patting your desk chair as he walks by.
You’re not really mad. You fall into an easy calm as you sit down and scoot up toward the desk. The fire is low and crackling in the fireplace today and the library smells faintly of cardamom as you work. Tiara flights around the second story of the room, chittering and following Yoongi - who seems to be organizing the shelves.
Taehyung vanishes to do whatever it is he does during the day. You’re not even sure if it’s day in your world. You hope he will take you to The Desert Rose again to see Jimin and to drink cider. You love the warmth of the crowd and the loud bustle.
The House of Dreams is quiet.
Time slips as you work. You lose yourself in swirling letters and short reading passages, so much so that when there is a tingling presence near your shoulder, you flinch, ripping your quill across the page and splattering ink.
Yoongi tsks and apologizes, grabbing an ink stained cloth to wipe the spilled liquid from the desk. His proximity makes your head spin, the edge of his hips grazing your shoulder as he leans over you to clean the mess you’ve made.
Mouth drying, you drop the quill and flex your hand, coughing out an apology as you try to organize your thoughts that spill like the ink on the desk at his nearness.
Being away from him almost made you forget how dizzying his presence could be. Yoongi regards your work in silence, but all you can focus on is the measured sound of his breathing, the warmth radiating from him, the curve of his mouth, the juice running down his-
“Ready?”
“What?” you ask, blinking and looking up at him owlishly. He gazes down at you, cocking a brow. It’s obvious he had asked you a question. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening?”
“What were you doing?”
“... Staring.”
“At?”
“The wall?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?” he questions, his voice laced with teasing.
You scowl and shove your chair backward into his stomach, knocking him back. He lets out a loud oof and a bit of laughter as you stand and stretch, hyperaware that he’s been in a rather cheeky mood since breakfast.
Together, you begin your walk to the tower. Tiara comes along, jumping up on Yoongi’s shoulder and curling herself around him like a scarf, her tail wrapped gently around his neck. She regards you with distaste and her tongue flickers out to taste the air, a curl of smoke escaping her nose as she huffs.
Fighting the urge to stick your tongue out at a dragon, you opt to walk in comfortable silence.
As you do, your thoughts inevitably drift to the night before and the dream that didn’t feel like a dream. For the most part, you feel like you can tell when you’re dreaming. There’s always an opaque feeling to your dreams, something a little off.
Now, you’re worried that perhaps you can’t tell the difference. You think that maybe you should ask Yoongi if he can help you tell the difference between being awake and dreaming, but your desire to ask is stopped as you reach the foot of stairs you’ve never climbed before.
Yoongi looks down at you as he begins ascending, giving you a gummy smile that sends your pulse galloping after him. You curse your traitor heart, trying to remember what Taehyung said to you about the relationship between dreams and humans. It could never work. But… you’re here. In Yoongi’s home, and you don’t know how long you’re allowed to stay - if you’re ever supposed to go back again.
Both of you seem to completely ignore that you were brought back to the dream realm ahead of schedule, that maybe going back is no longer an option.
There are doors leading to rooms as you ascend the stairs. Yoongi ignores all of them in favor of climbing up, up, and up. Your calves burn by the time you make it to the top, pausing to catch your breath and sweep your eyes across the large, circular room.
It’s stunning. Glancing up, your mouth falls open in surprise when you see that there is no ceiling, but a mass of writhing cosmos and something like a night sky. The nebulous display casts a lavender and blue glow on the room below, the two-tone light shifting and moving.
There are all manner of things in the room. Tables covered in papers, rich rugs with different designs, chairs and bookshelves and curiosity cabinets and glass cases full of glowing things that you cannot identify. Tiara hops off of Yoongi’s shoulder and floats on small wings toward a pile of blankets, twigs, and leaves that looks like a nest.
What demands your attention most, though, is the massive stone dais in the room, with a stone column about waist high with something that looks like a bowl carved into the top. From where you stand, you can see there’s liquid in the bowl that moves and shimmers with its own glow. Occasionally, a sparkle or wisp of color drifts from the cool surface.
Energy vibrates in the air. You can feel it like a static on your skin and taste it like a buzz on your tongue. You’re drawn to the dais, taking a step forward and halting. It feels like a hum shivers through you. You look at Yoongi, questioning.
“The dream pool,” he answers, as though you have any idea what that is.
He walks toward it and looks back at you, hesitating before he offers a hand. Excitement shoots through you as you take his hand and he pulls you toward it. Your hand tingles where you hold his. Even when you reach the dais and he lets go, there’s pins and needles left behind.
“This is where I help create dreams for those who can’t do it on their own.”
The liquid in the basin brightens as Yoongi steps up close. You watch as a watercolor of lights splashes across his face. He looks down into the bowl lovingly, a soft smile on his face, and so much adoration in his eyes that you find yourself watching him instead of the magical water in the bowl.
“This room is full of things that help inspire dreams. I make everything myself but Taehyung likes to help - he likes to decorate and fill the room with items that inspire creativity.”
“Somehow I think dream personified doesn’t need it.”
He shoots you a grin. “You’d be surprised. Come look.”
Tentatively, you step up next to him. You’re aware of how close you stand, his sleeves brushing yours as he places a hand on the basin. It comes up to your stomach and is two feet in diameter. The water looks so much deeper than you thought. You’re unable to see the bottom, an illusion that makes you dizzy.
Like the sky above, the water shimmers and moves with its own set of stars and colors. It feels alive, like whatever power is in the dream pool recognizes you and wakes up, spinning as you look into the glittering surface.
“I can feel and hear people dream,” Yoongi explains. “It’s like a frequency that I can tap into. I can turn it on and off at a whim. Those who don’t struggle to dream are so much quieter than those who cannot dream. I listen for those who cannot, and I come here and focus on them in my mind’s eye before creating them a dream. I pour in thoughts, feelings, scents, sounds, memories and the like into this bowl. I think it, and so it appears.”
“How?”
“What you’d call magic. Really it’s just divine power. This is a part of me,” he says, tapping the rim of the basin. “Just like dreams are.”
“How can I help you do… this?” you ask, gesturing wildly to the water.
Yoongi’s smile is angelic. “You have the raw capability of a dreamer. Someone who dreams so powerfully and loudly that it can’t help but catch my attention.”
“What does that mean?”
“Your imagination and your ability to come up with things is more innate than most people. You’re an innovator, a great conjurer of stories and fantasies. It’s a rare gift in humans. Some call you Spinners - you can spin dreams up just as easily as I can, with practice, but you cannot do so without a tool like this basin.”
“A spinner.” You remember the night before, hearing the word on Taehyung’s lips. “Are there others?”
He nods. “Under fifty in the entire world. I believe you’ve met another one. He’s the one Taehyung visits.”
“Jimin?”
“Mhmm. He’s like you. You have no power though, not in your world. Just raw ability.”
“So if I were to use this… pool of dreams, I could give people dreams.”
He nods, smiling. You smile back at him, his happiness infectious. You like the way his eyes crinkle when he grins broadly at you, the way his cheeks tint pink. It is strange to think that this soft man in front of you is also the same dark, powerful god who has swept in to save you, whose voice haunts your dreams and whose phantom touch lingers in all of the places that it shouldn’t.
Licking his lips and rolling his shoulders, Yoongi takes his stance at the basin. You watch, fascinated as he sweeps a hand over the surface, not touching the water. It ripples an entire rainbow of colors, casting shadows on his face when he peers down into the water as the surface smoothes out like a mirror.
An opaque image materializes on the surface. You watch as Yoongi concentrates. Slowly, things begin appearing. A cerulean ocean, waves rolling gently against a sandy beach. Foam clings to the sand. Starfish of every color - blue, green, red - begin to dot the beach. A gull cries above, so clear it feels like you’re there. Then you smell it - the salt, the brine. The subtle scent of driftwood. A breeze blows against your face, carrying the cool ocean mist.
You let out a laugh as Yoongi smiles, his eyes never leaving the images unfolding in the basin. You watch as a dolphin crests a wave, earning a gasp from you. You’ve never seen a dolphin, only heard about them in passing from fishermen from the coast. They spray water high into the air as they break the waves, moving smoothly through glittering waters.
It feels so real and warm, the dream bright and full of hope. Happiness. Excitement. You feel what Yoongi pours into the basin, your toes curling as though you can feel hot sand beneath your feet.
“The trick,” Yoongi explains carefully, “Is imagining everything that would make it feel real. It can’t be just what you see. It has to be what you hear, what you feel, what you smell, what emotions you evoke. You have to do all of these things at once - you have to believe in them all at once. Dreams about real things are the easiest. More complex dreams can include anything you can imagine that humans believe to be fake: dragons, brownies, griffons.”
“How do you know what to give?”
“You feel it. Place your hand on the side.”
Carefully, you lift your hand to the side of the dream pool. You hesitate and look up at Yoongi, eyes wide. He gives you an encouraging nod. You place your hand on the bowl, feeling the warm stone.
A pulse of energy flows through you. You gasp, flinching a little as you feel the basin come alive under your touch. You close your eyes as sensations flood you: hopelessness, stress, exhaustion. Suddenly, Yoongi’s dream makes sense. He instills a sense of peace and serenity at the beach, of hope and wonder with the dolphins, of rest with the cool wind and warm sand.
“Amazing,” you breathe, eyes still closed. “This is wonderful.”
“I’ll do some more. Keep your hand where it is. You’ll feel what it is they feel. Try not to think too hard about anything while you’re connected - let me do the work.”
Watching Yoongi work can happen with your eyes closed, you realize. You lose yourself in time and space. No longer are you in the Dream Tower. Now, Yoongi walks you through the world.
You enter through dreams, feeling sudden sadness or loss, even heartache. Every dream you encounter, there is profound suffering at the beginning. Yoongi gently sends the pain on its way, observes what each dreamer needs, and begins spinning up images. Sounds. Feelings.
Rain falls on your face as you stand over the tops of a misty forest. It’s gentle and cool to the touch, soothing. You smell pine and damp earth, giving you energy. Your toes feel the wet grass beneath you, grounding you and making you feel more centered than you ever have.
Wheat brushes the tips of your fingers. You look out into a sea of gold, healthy crops bending with the wind. An azure sky stretches mile after mile, not a cloud in sight as the sun heats your skin. You smell fresh air and hear the grasshoppers buzz among the fresh stalks of wheat, feeling the reward of growing healthy grain.
A dog runs after a ball. The hills are the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen, the dog dashing up the hill and barking loudly. You feel laughter bubble up your throat and unfettered joy as thick clouds float by. The dog grabs the ball and runs back, its tail wagging and coat shiny. You feel nostalgic and happy to be reunited with a friend.
Fireflies flicker to life in a forest at night. They alight on the tree branches and your arms, casting gold luminescence on your skin. You marvel at them, spinning in a circle as you look at the dark trees. You smell the maple sap and the bark, you hear the crickets.
It’s just like the woods near your house -
Your house.
A slice of fear goes through you. You remember the darkness of the woods as Nathaniel tried to drown you, the press of his fingers into your skull. The roaring of the flooding water and the burning of your lungs. The fireflies flicker out one by one and the darkness begins to grow. You’re suddenly terrified. Curiosity vanishes and is replaced with deep fear.
You taste stale water in your mouth. You smell the smoke of your burning house. You feel water rushing up to your ankles and inching higher, you hear the screams of Nathaniel’s vitriol, you feel your lungs start to fill, the air stars to leave, the roots of the trees grab at your feet-
A sharp yank pulls you out of the forest. You gasp for air, falling backward off of the dais and onto the floor. Gentle hands cradle your face and you hear a deep voice calling out to you, speaking your name through the dull roar in your ears.
Blinking, you look upward to see Yoongi inches away from your face. His eyes are round and gentle, his hands steady. Warm. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your lips as he leans over you. A strand of dark hair escapes his bun, falling across his forehead and eye. You don’t know why, but you think it looks dashing.
“Hey,” he murmurs, searching your face. “Are you with me?”
“Yeah,” you rasp, lungs heaving. “What happened?”
His thumb brushes back and forth across your cheek as he sighs, but he doesn’t let go of your face. “You thought of the night that I saved you. Your fear was powerful. Raw. As you started to remember things you grew more afraid and you took over the dream.”
You blink once. Twice. Remember the way that the fireflies suddenly flickered out and how the water started to rush in from nowhere. “I did that?”
“I didn’t expect you to be such a natural. I had a feeling but… you caught me by surprise and shoved me out.”
“I can do that?”
“When I’m caught off guard, yes. You took control of creating the dream and turned it into…”
“A nightmare.”
He nods. “It’s my fault. I didn’t think you would think that forest looked the same, but I was wrong. I keep… having oversights. I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“Being human.”
Silence suspends between you. You’re sprawled on the floor of the Dream Tower with Yoongi hovering over you. His knees are pressed against your hips and his shirt collar is hanging low as he leans, revealing more skin than you’ve ever seen from him. You don’t dare drop your eyes from his, staring at their dark depths.
The space between you is minimal and neither of you move. You hope he cannot hear the way your heart hammers in your chest or sense the way your body crackles like lightning, sparking at his proximity. The nightmare you made is long forgotten, replaced with his touch, his smell, his closeness.
Yoongi holds your face delicately, like a treasured item. You cannot imagine that he means to hold you so, but the sudden want that licks through you is powerful, your desire for him to hold you like you’re something precious surprising you in its strength.
“You make me want to get better at it.” His voice is soft, barely even a whisper.
“At what?”
A gentle laugh. “Being human. It is unfamiliar, but I wish to know more of what it's like. To have more of the instinct.”
“Why?”
He pauses. “Because I’ve lived for thousands of years, and never really had the chance to try.”
It is a similar sentiment that Taehyung had shared. The thought of Taehyung makes you smile, sitting up suddenly. Yoongi leans back on his haunches quickly, careful not to knock heads. “What?” he asks, noting your sudden excitement.
“Has Taehyung ever taken you to the Desert Rose?”
“No, I can’t say I’ve been interested. Why?”
You grab his hand. You notice the way he seems surprised, but he doesn’t pull away as you scramble to your feet. “You want to see what it’s like to be human. I know a place.”
-
Yoongi makes a face as he sips the beer Taehyung has thrust into his hands. You and Taehyung laugh, tossing your heads back with it. Yoongi looks unimpressed but continues to drink nonetheless, his dark eyes scanning the crowded bar.
He sticks out like a sore thumb. Eyes are immediately drawn to Yoongi wherever he goes. You think everyone must feel the divinity as he walks by them, his power a magnet for attention. Even sitting at the table with you and Taehyung, tucked near the door, people turn in their seats to get a good look at him or pause when they enter the Desert Rose.
It doesn’t help that he looks beautiful. Air had gotten stuck in your throat when he arrived at the library at the appointed time to meet you and Taehyung to come here. His hair hangs in soft waves around his face, earrings peaking between inky strands when he moves his head. His dark shirt is long-sleeved but unbuttoned at the throat, revealing a strip of pale, smooth skin and his layered necklaces. His eyes are glittering tonight, almost like constellations are held within.
Yoongi is the night. The black pants and black boots paired with the shirt make him look like a dark prince. Perhaps the son of the moon, even. You notice the way the stares turn from curious to hungry, Yoongi lighting a fire among those around him.
Jealousy sours your stomach. You hate that it does, but it’s like a second instinct, some sort of possessive monster rearing its head as you avert your gaze when a beautiful man asks Yoongi if he wants to dance. Yoongi shakes his head, giving a polite smile in return before turning away and chugging more of his drink.
If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was nervous.
“Thousands of years old and a room full of people scares you,” Taehyung teases, confirming your suspicions. Yoongi’s gaze is thin as a razor. “You should get out more. I’ve been telling you that.”
“Eternals don’t make a habit of walking around the human realm. Our presence disturbs the natural chemistry of the world.”
“Then why did you spend so many days in the wood-”
Yoongi kicks Taehyung under the table. He hollers in pain as Yoongi glowers, making you giggle. Though he’s no natural among the crowd, you can see that he’s trying to fit in. He watches the way people slouch in their chair and he imitates it. Drinks more of his beer, not because of the taste but because it's what people do here.
Music thrums in the room. There is a crowd of people clapping their hands and dancing, stomping their feet along to the music. You nervously look at Yoongi throughout the night, trying to see if he’s enjoying himself, wondering what he thinks of the place.
A couple near your table knocks over a pitcher of mead as the man presses the woman into the table in an arduous kiss. You can’t help but watch for a moment, entranced by the way he kisses her as though he’ll die if he doesn’t, as if her lips are the last thing he wants to remember.
Sensing Yoongi’s gaze on you, you glance at him. He stares at you, drinking you in before his eyes drift to the couple you’d been studying. Embarrassment heats your face as you bring your cup to your lips, hiding behind the tankard as you take large gulps of cider.
The cider takes the edge off. It makes you feel warm and loose, though you’re still a little nervous with Yoongi’s quiet countenance sitting beside you.
“Jimin’s here!” you announce excitedly, clapping your hands together when he appears downstairs. Taehyung’s knee bumps into the bottom of the table as he jerks to turn around. “Jimin should meet Yoongi!”
“I would love to.”
Taehyung groans. “No, please.”
“Why not?” Yoongi demands. “Should I not meet the human that brings my friend here most evenings? Should I not meet the friend of my -” Yoongi looks at you and stumbles over his words. “- my friend?”
Friend. You’re not sure if the word fits, exactly. But you don’t know what else it is that Yoongi would call you. Friend implies something beyond acquaintances, which you are sure you are. But it fits like an ill-sized dress, hanging crooked on your frame.
“I don’t want you to scare him off!” Taehyung protests.
Yoongi looks dubious. “Why would I do that?”
“Shut up,” you hiss as Jimin notices you. You lift your hand in an eager wave, beckoning him over. “Yoongi, be nice.”
“I am nice. Do you think I’m not nice?”
Instead of answering him, you get up to greet Jimin warmly with a chaste kiss on the cheek and a brief hug. When you step back, you see Yoongi’s burning gaze, a tick in his jaw as he stares Jimin down, tonguing his cheek. You hiss at Yoongi and snap your finger to signal for him to drop the severe expression.
He looks at you and his features smooth out as he rises to his feet lithely, reaching an arm around you. Yoongi startles you when he places his hand on your mid-back as he leans forward to shake Jimin’s, introducing himself.
The contact is so brief that you wonder if he had done it at all as he sits down. For a moment, you’re the only one standing, staring at Yoongi in confusion as the three men sit. They all look at you expectantly and you plop down suddenly.
“Are you alright?” Jimin asks, mirth evident in his voice.
“Yes,” you answer quickly, still recovering. It felt like a deliberate touch. Firm, but gentle. Polite, but… something. “How are you?”
To your pleasure - and Taehyung’s evident relief - Yoongi and Jimin get along fine. If Jimin is put off by Yoongi’s peculiarity, he doesn’t show it. You wonder if he’s used to being around Taehyung, who has his own strange charm and inhuman energy vibrating around him.
Yoongi says little, but seems comfortable. You watch him as he watches Taehyung, who has stars in his eyes every time he looks at Jimin. He leans closer to Jimin as they mutter about something conspiratorially, giggling behind their hands. Jimin brushes a strand of hair out of Taehyung’s face and the love that blooms in Taehyung’s expression is so evident that you wonder if Jimin knows. He has to know. And he looks like he feels the same.
When Jimin drags Taehyung up to dance, you encourage them, shooing them off toward the growing crowd of people spinning around the room. Tables are shoved out of the way, chairs scraping to make room for the revelers. You move your chair some as your table is pushed, making the beers tilt dangerously.
Yoongi grabs the leg of your chair and pulls it roughly toward him. Before you can say something, someone stumbles where your chair just was, toppling into the table next to you. You look at Yoongi with shock and he winks before returning to lounging in his seat, watching the crowd.
Now that you’re sitting much closer to him, you can smell him. Still, you try to relax, watching as Jimin teaches Taehyung the steps to the dance the crowd is doing.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Yoongi says over the loud voices. “This is nice. I see why Taehyung likes it.”
“You don’t hate it?” He makes a face and you laugh. “Yoongi, you hate it.”
“It’s a bit loud, but I don’t hate it. I like the quiet. I like… solitude. But not always. This is a good break.”
“So you never just… stroll among the people sometimes?”
“Never had a reason to.”
“But how can you make dreams if you don’t know people?”
“Dreams are inherent to me. They are an instinct. They aren’t born from people. They’re born from something rawer than that. People just happen to dream.”
You hum, not sure that you follow. Silence lulls between you as the song changes. “This place is so different from anywhere I’ve been,” you tell him. “My mother and father would have hated a place like this where people want so freely and people are so… provocative.”
“Life is provocative. So is nature, and magic. And dreams.”
“Is that why you’re a god of desire, too?” He nods once, his eyes on you. “Can you… sense what people innately desire? All the time?”
You don’t ask the real question, which is: Can you tell what I desire when I’m with you? Still, Yoongi shrugs a shoulder. “Snippets. LIke I said, I try not to pry. I don’t think that anyone here needs to be inspired by me to delve into what they want here, that’s for sure.” His eyes darken. “Though perhaps there is one.”
It is not your imagination when he says it. You know that he means you. This you are sure of. You stare at Yoongi, the rest of the room fading away. He stares right back at you, as though willing you to agree, or to deny his claim. Your heart speeds up and you feel the sweat on your neck, the slick on your palms.
“You said you’d help me indulge.” Your voice shakes when you say it. “How… do I do that?”
Yoongi’s mouth kicks up at the side. He leans forward and offers you a hand. When you just stare at it, he laughs. “Dance with me.”
“Dancing? That is indulging?”
“You might be surprised.”
Tension goes taught between you. You feel it sizzling in the air as you stare one another down. Yoongi’s hand remains outstretched, beckoning. Slowly, you put the cup of cider down and slide your hand into his. You’ve done this so many times, letting him lead you somewhere or help you up.
When Yoongi grips your hand and pulls you to your feet, it feels different than all the times before. The soft, gentle Eternal of dreams has melted away and left something sharper. Darker. Edgier. Your heart flutters butterfly-fast as he leads you to where there are people spinning in tight circles on the floor.
Yoongi yanks you toward him, pulling you into his chest. One hand loops over his shoulder, your palm cradling the back of his neck, while the other grips his. His hand goes snuggling around your waist, pulling you firmly to him as he ducks his head toward your ear, voice deep and soft as he whispers, “Follow me.”
You would follow him anywhere, you think. Anywhere at all.
Dancing is not something you ever recall doing. It wasn’t necessary where you grew up. Most of your festivals in town were a reserved affair and you’d never been to any parties or celebrations. Most weddings were stiff and formal, and not for merriment as much as respect.
Now, your world turns into a kaleidoscope of color and laughter. Yoongi spins you around the room, his feet smooth and fast. You stumble to keep up at first, but Yoongi is a confident lead, his steps instructing yours, his hands pulling and guiding you as you go.
Laughter rushes out of you. You cannot help the glee that glitters in your veins. Yoongi’s laughter is like spilled moonlight. You look up at him with a grin, seeing his gummy smile as he dips you suddenly, making you squeal. Your fingers tangle in his shirt. You know he won’t drop you but the exhilaration is in your veins as he lifts you back up, crushing you to him.
Your arms and legs burn with effort as you continue. The song changes and Yoongi lets go and spins you. You go crashing into Taehyung’s arms. He’s a far worse dancer than Yoongi, and the two of you are a mess of tripped feet, trilling laughter and elbows into ribs. He pushes you back to Yoongi’s waiting arms.
It terrifies you how much it feels like home, like a key sliding into a lock. Your arms go around him as his hands squeeze your waist. You come alive where you touch, looking up at him. He watches you, the shadow of his lashes framing delicate eyes. His mouth is red and soft.
Yoongi’s eyes dart down to your mouth. Your breath catches and he moves a little closer, pressing his head to yours, noses brushing. The entire world vanishes and it’s just Yoongi, his lips so close you can almost taste them, his fingers digging into your hips.
Your eyes flutter shut just as someone crashes into you. You scream as you’re knocked hard into Yoongi, the two of you stumbling as he catches you from falling over completely. The crowd goes wild with laughter as a man is sprawled on the ground, laughing and drunk, having lost his balance.
A breathless laugh escapes you as you and Yoongi straighten, separating a little. The moment between you is shattered, clattering away like pieces of broken glass as you catch your breath and gather your wits. You look around, searching for Taehyung only to see him alone at your table, eyes heavy and gaze lingering across the room. You turn to see Jimin leaning on the bar, smiling at something a woman is whispering in his ear.
Glancing back at Taehyung, you see him shove away from the table and storm out the door. Yoongi notices this too, but he’s slow on the uptake, his hand still on your hip. You shake off his hold on you and go after Taehyung, shouting his name.
Taehyung is just outside the Desert Rose, head tilted down and shoulders pulled up tight around his ears. When you touch the small of his back, he flinches, gazing at you with tear-stained eyes and a look so crestfallen you feel your heart crack.
He sniffs. “This is why,” he whispers. “This is why I told you we can never be. Humans and dreams - we aren’t. We don’t match.”
“Taehyung,” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say. You open your arms and he leans into you, folding in half as he sobs, breaking down into your shoulder. You hush him gently, holding him tight and squeezing him, trying to pour your love into him.
Over Taehyung’s shoulder, your gaze settles on Yoongi. He watches the two of you in silence, face impassive. And your heart breaks a little more, realizing the truth of Taehyung’s words.
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