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#yoongi imagines
aaagustd · 2 months
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for the night | min yoongi
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title: for the night
pairing: drug lord!min yoongi x waitress!(f)reader
genre/rating: angst, childhood best friends to strangers to friends??, unrequited love, valentine’s day au, smut, romance, 18+
summary: Yoongi lives a dangerous life. So why is he so afraid of you? 
warnings: idk what to say about these two, just a bunch of feelings (spoken & unspoken), light pining, pov switches,  mentions d*ath & grieving,  mentions dr*gs and violence, swearing, bl**d & injuries, p*stol wh*pping/ mild description of t*rture, crooked justice systems (it’s the wild wild west out there), mentions a robbery & a**ault (nothing involving the main story), mentions illnesses & health related topics, alcohol/drinking but no intoxication unless you count staring at yoongi for too long, black hair with the undercut yoongi, chains, rings, TATTOOS…. oh my !!!, yoongi has a gl*ck (a piece, that iron… whatever you wanna call it), everybody’s shipping these two but they’re just…yeah, eye f*cking from both parties, explicit content, the friend version of kiss & makeup??, dry h*mping, Dom!yoongi, yoongi getting head is a warning, protected s*x, gagging/deep throating, throat/face f*cking, hair pulling, crying, i’m sure yoongi has Sir kink hiding in there somewhere, manhandling, face slapping, yoongi’s fingers down your throat, missionary with your leg over yoongi’s shoulder, big d*ck!yoongi, his jewelry stays on bc why would it not?, cl*t stimulation, teasing, spitting, org*sm control, c*m shots, body worship, p*ssy eating, throat grabbing, i think that's all...
wc: 11.6k
release date: february 16, 2024; 10:15pm est
note: sorry i took forever. this is my first oneshot in a while so i apologize for mistakes. i'm just finding my footing in this writing thing again. thanks to @itaeewon for my banner and @cafekitsune who makes these pretty dividers. please follow both of them for cool graphics. anyway, happy late valentine's day. i love you guys.
masterlist | playlist | ao3 version
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“Enjoy the rest of your night… and be safe!”
As you wave goodbye to the last lovely couple dining at your restaurant tonight, you express how thrilled you are of their return. 
You stand in front of your father’s little restaurant and watch the lovebirds bundle up as they make their way to their vehicle, embracing each other and protecting themselves from the same frigid temperatures that threatened to ruin their Valentine’s day plans.
It’s nights like these that make the sacrifice of putting your nursing career on hold well worth it. This neighborhood doesn’t have a lot to offer as far as entertainment goes, so keeping this place in business is your top priority. This is your home, and the people you love put their all into this establishment. 
You’ll make sure it thrives and continues to be a source of comfort to the community.
You’re excited to tell your father about tonight’s turn out. You know he will be pleased. It’s been busy all day with dine-ins and take outs; everyone looking for the perfect date night meal. 
“The food is made with love,” is what your dad always says.
He always looks forward to this time of year, and he’s always talked about seeing you sitting in one of his booths with a special someone of your own some day. 
You only nod when he brings up your dating life; sometimes his love for you blinds him from reality. You’ve never brought anyone home, or ever mentioned being involved with someone to him. Even if you came out and said it, he’d never believe you’re the problem.
A chilly breeze in the mid-February air snaps you out of your thoughts—so as soon as the couple’s sedan departs from the parking lot—you slip back inside. 
The warmth instantly envelopes your trembling figure, and draws a small exhale from your lips.
Looking at your watch, you notice that it’s almost midnight. You switch the sign from open to close, but don’t bother locking the door because there’s one more visitor that should be arriving shortly.
You keep that in mind as you begin to clean the front of the house. 
One by one, your father’s employees complete their duties in a haste, then clock out so they can go home to whoever is waiting for them. Their eagerness only brings a smile to your face.
As you’re sanitizing a table, you catch a glimpse of one of the waitresses dashing towards the door.
“Well, see you tomorrow, Kaci!”
She halts, then turns around to say her goodbyes—and to gossip. 
“Night, boss lady,” she chirps.
Why she calls you “boss lady” is a mystery to you; your dad only left you in charge, but you’re just a manager. You still get on the floor and serve tables like everyone else.
You’re curious about the bit of mischief hidden in her tone. It’s not long before she reveals her true intentions.
“Did he stop by yet?”
And of course…she’s talking about Yoongi.
Usually, someone stops by on his behalf to collect the rent. His family allows your father and a few others to occupy the buildings on this lot for business. Payment is always to be paid in cash, so you make sure you visit the bank the morning of collections. 
Your family has had a close relationship with the Mins for years, so they’ve been working with you while your father recovers.
You met Yoongi right in this restaurant at the young age of four, and from there, your friendship blossomed. You were inseparable throughout grade school, but senior year is when everything shifted.
It had to be the first time you both realized that you were on different paths after graduation. While you prepped for college, he was being introduced to the hustle that built his family’s empire.
If that didn’t tear a rift in your relationship, the underlying tension and unspoken feelings surely did. People used to always say at least one of you would eventually want something different, and you used to always laugh at them…until it became a fact.
You’ve always wondered if he ever felt the same as you did—or if he ever thought about exploring something more.
Unfortunately, you’ll never know what he was feeling. After graduation, he shut you out and never looked back. That was so long ago, though. You’ve grown, and the pain of losing someone you cared about eventually went away.
…So you thought.
Being home again brings back so many memories and forgotten feelings. Things you wish you still had, and things you wish you could have had. After experiencing so much throughout college, and learning more about yourself, you’d kill to go back in time so you can handle things differently. 
You can’t help but think your friendship was torn apart by nothing more than a curious mind and raging hormones.
Yoongi’s so different now, though. However, you still see glimpses of the boy who would sneak into your window just to watch reruns of 90s cartoons with you. You smile just thinking about all the fun times you’ve shared, and all the trouble you got into.
“Look at you getting wet just thinking about him! I knew it. You’re whipped!”
“Can you keep your damn voice down,” you hiss. “Last thing I need is gossip right now.”
You’re so fed up with her teasing. If you two hadn’t just clicked when you took over the restaurant, you’d probably just kick her ass out in the cold.
“And, no. He has not. So, you can leave now, ma’am.”
“Oh, for sure,” she sighs dramatically. “Hell only knows what you two do when you are alone.”
Your jaw drops. 
Sometimes this bond you share is a blessing; but other times, it’s a curse.
Kaci’s a sweetheart, but her mouth… Well, let’s just say these comments are normal for her. 
And just like your father, she loves to play Cupid. No wonder he hired her.
“Just get your ass out of here.”
You can barely keep your laugh from bursting through your lips as you send a rag flying towards her. She dodges it, then proceeds to give you a middle finger. She has another shady comment ready to roll off the tip of her tongue, but then she glances out of the glass door and smirks instead. 
You scoff. “Bitch, what is it now?”
Kaci then shakes her head. 
“Nothing, babe. I’m out,” she winks. Kaci then points towards the parking lot and whispers, “Daddy’s here.”
“Huh? What are you talking about—”
Crawling into one of the booths, you partially open the blinds with your fingers and peek out of the window.
About seven sets of headlights stare back at you, all belonging to vehicles that are as dark as the midnight hour. A BMW sits in the center, blacked out with tinted windows and black custom rims. However, you don’t need a look inside to know who it is. No one else would pull up like they own the lot.
All the businesses are closed, which means these aren’t customers. It’s the boss.
Your heart rate builds up when the door opens and his sneakers touch the concrete. He stands there for a moment fixing his jacket and discreetly observing his surroundings. 
Your eyes follow his movements. You can only hear the bass from his music and the noises coming from your throat as you try to gulp down the saliva building up in your mouth. 
All you needed to see was the top of his head to confirm what you already knew. 
Yoongi’s here, and he’s the one coming to collect payment tonight.
You don’t know why your heart is about to pound out of your chest like you’re hexed by some teenage crush. Maybe you are still hung up on him a little bit. You can’t deny how attractive he still is. He definitely wears age well.
The dark hair suits him perfectly. You can remember the horror stories about the color experiments gone wrong when you were teenagers. It’s a surprise that it’s still luscious and healthy as it is.
However, that isn’t the only thing that has changed in his appearance.
They’re hard to spot under his jacket, but his torso, back, and arms are covered in tattoos. You only know about this because another waitress working here loves to share the story of how she was on her knees in a bathroom giving a shirtless Yoongi a blowjob. 
You would never admit jealousy, but damn; that lucky bitch.
Yoongi starts to make his way across the parking lot, pushing back his hair with his ringed-fingers to grant better vision out of his peripherals. You know he’s always watching his back; he can never be too careful when he’s making moves.
His haircut allows you to get a glimpse of the ink crawling up his neck, disappearing behind his ear. His earring dangles in the wind as he strides in your direction.
Each step is confident and dominant;  his aura dark and mysterious. 
A man who is about his business, it’s no shock that heads turn when he steps into the room. He’s reserved, but not afraid to enforce his authority when he deems necessary. You heard stories, and crossing Yoongi is considered a death wish. 
He’s like the hot badass described in movies or books, but he actually is that guy. Handsome, street-wise, tattoos and scars; paired with money, jewelry, and you’d be stupid to think he isn’t packing. 
You can smell the power and Dior emitting from his body all the way from where you are. 
Each step he takes towards the entrance of the restaurant gives you a better view without being noticed. It’s a sin how good he looks and he’s just wearing a simple outfit with some sneakers. You have no business feeling these kinds of things, but it’s impossible to not.
“Can he just bend us over already?”
You hear Kaci whisper the same words you were just thinking. But she can’t know that, so you swat her again for good measure.
“Fine…I’m leaving,” she whines, walking to the door.
You back out of the booth and move over to the host stand so you can roll silverware and act like you weren’t watching him.
Kaci opens the door just as he’s about to reach for the handle, and of course, she gives him a warm welcome.
“Hi, Yoongi,” she beams. You roll your eyes the second you hear that annoying high-pitched voice she uses when she’s being coy.
“Hey, can you hang back for a bit? It won’t be long.”
“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”
The look he gives her sends your radar up, so you set down the utensils in your hand and join them in the lobby.
“Hey,” you greet him when he notices you. “What’s going on?”
Yoongi sighs before he answers, shaking his head as he gathers his words.
“You know the alterations shop over there?” 
His head nods in the direction of the Leonard’s shop a few stores down. Both of you nod because they take lunch breaks here everyday.
“Somebody hit them up about an hour ago. Left their daughter in bad shape before they stripped the registers,” he informs.
“Are you serious? That’s awful.”
“Yeah, they’re good people. Who would do something that disgusting?” Kaci asks.
Yoongi only shrugs. “Don’t know, but as soon as I find out…”
He doesn’t even need to continue. It’ll be bad; probably worse than you can imagine. One thing the Min’s don’t tolerate is disrespect. You mess with one of their people, you get handled. In this case, you can’t even feel bad for the bastard. That family doesn’t bother anyone. It’s a shame they were targeted.
“Anyway, I don’t want either of you lingering around here at night anymore. Stick together during opening and closing until we catch this motherfucker understand?”
“Yeah, got it,” you reply, and Kaci also agrees.
“Sure, not a problem.”
With everyone on the same page, you make a note in your mind to update the security system in the restaurant and think of some safety tips for employees. No one can ever be too careful, especially after what just occurred so close to home.
“And Kaci?” he calls, just as she’s getting ready to depart. 
“Yeah?”
“Don’t walk home. Your pepper spray is expired. Ask one of the guys to drive you.”
“Is Hoseok out there?” 
You and Yoongi share a look. He’s probably wondering what it’s about, but then again, who doesn’t know they’re fucking?
“Yeah…he is—”
“Kay, bye!”
Before the door slams in your face, you call out to her. 
“Text me when you’re home!... Or when you’re able to use your hands.”
Yoongi chuckles as the both of you watch her dash across the lot. You aren’t sure how she’s able to spot the right SUV, but she does within seconds.
“This has been going on for a while, huh?” Yoongi inquires.
“Mhm. Fight, fuck, repeat.”
After a moment goes by, you realize you forgot to bring the money you owe Yoongi. You snap your fingers when you remember why he’s there in the first place.
“Oh, yeah. Come on, it’s back here,” you tell him.
Yoongi follows you toward the back of the restaurant until you reach the small manager’s office tucked in a corner of the kitchen. While you dig in your apron for the key, Yoongi checks in with you to see how everything’s going.
“How’s your dad?”
You pause to look at him and answer with a proud smile. Your father’s been working really hard on his road to recovery; it’s nice to talk about his accomplishments without someone looking at you with pity, which Yoongi never does.
“He’s been doing better. Lots of physical therapy, but he walked on his own yesterday.”
With a nod, Yoongi’s expression softens.  “That’s the shit I like to hear.”
“Me too.”
Once you find the keys, you unlock the door and the both of you step inside the dark room.
“Thanks,” you whisper when he flips the lightswitch for you. 
You can feel him watching you as you walk around the desk, and when you squat down to open the safe underneath, you hear his footsteps approaching. 
You start entering the combination while he whistles and looks around your office. 
You’re curious about what he’s looking at, but right now you can't even take a peek without him noticing. Instead, you focus on gathering the cash you owe him for last month and this month while he’s busy snooping around.
After a while, you figure he’s found something interesting because the room becomes quiet. You grab the stack you set aside and close the safe, making sure it’s locked before you do anything else.
“So how was your day?”
Yoongi’s deep voice tears a giant rift in the silence, startling you and causing you to bump your head on the edge of the desk. Thankfully, his back is turned and he didn’t hear the small thud because you’d be beyond embarrassed.
“It was okay,” you reply as you regain your footing. 
Yoongi turns in your direction when he hears your words become clearer, indicating you’re no longer digging around in the safe. He meets you halfway and you extend your hand with the stack of money resting between your fingers. 
“This is all of it.”
Yoongi looks at the stack before he responds. Most of the time, it’s so hard to know what he’s thinking because his expression is always so stoic.
“Just okay?” he quizzes. 
“Yeah, pretty much. It was busy so I was stuck in autopilot most of the day.”
He still hasn’t made a move to accept the money. You feel kind of awkward being so close to him as is, and his lack of response makes you feel even more anxious. 
Finally, he speaks. “Do you even have this to give me?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Please, take it.”
You gesture for him to take the money, and he reaches for it, making you believe he’s going to grab it.
“It’s all here. If you want me to count it, I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” he shrugs.
“Yoongi, no. We haven’t paid in a month. My dad would already be mad at me for being behind.”
“Does he have to know?” The look Yoongi gives you reminds you of all the times he’s talked you into doing something wild. He’d always take the blame if you got caught, but the thrill always made getting grounded irrelevant to you. “Keep it. We’re good until he gets back, okay?”
“Yoongi, I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“I won’t,” you declare confidently.
“So you’re arguing with me?”
Your eyes widen, realizing that he wasn’t giving you an option.
“I-I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Don’t worry about it, alright? Just keep doing what you’re doing. I only hear good things about this place,” he concludes.
“Okay, ok. Thanks, Yoongi.”
“Don’t mention it.”
As you’re returning the money to the safe, Yoongi brings something to your attention.
“I don’t see your car outside.”
“Ah, shit. It needed to be serviced. I was supposed to pick it up on my lunch, but I forgot.”
After visiting the bank this morning, you dropped your vehicle off at the dealership for maintenance, but the breakfast rush swarmed in as soon as you arrived at work. By the time you thought about picking it up, it was well after business hours.
“Um, do you mind—”
“Wanna ride?” Yoongi offers.
“Please.” Relieved, you exhale a needed sigh. “If it’s not an inconvenience.”
“Not at all, love.”
You quickly grab your purse and switch off the light in your office, ignoring that feeling you got from the little pet name. 
Yoongi leads the way this time. As you’re following him through the restaurant, you’re sure to double check everything before you leave. Even Yoongi turns to ask you if you’ve secured everything.
“Good?”
“Yeah, everything’s turned off and we’re locked up tight.”
“Cool.”
Walking into the dining area, you give everything a quick once-over before following Yoongi to the exit. Everything looks tidy and neat how you like it so you step out into the cold night with your chauffeur. 
He waits with you while you lock the front doors, looking around for any curious eyes. After you’ve finished turning the lock and key, you give the handle a tug to make sure it doesn’t open.
Growing up in this neighborhood will teach you a thing or two about being cautious and aware of your surroundings.
“It’s freezing tonight,” you comment.
Sometimes you like to make small talk with Yoongi, see where the conversation goes. Depending on the mood he’s in, he’ll either have one sentence responses or he’ll engage in light conversation.
You don’t mention the past much. It seems like pretending it never happened is easier for both of you. However, sometimes you have an impulse to bring up the subject, or at least try to mend what’s broken. 
If that’s possible.
“Cold? This is perfect weather.”
You roll your eyes. He’s definitely fucking with you.
“Oh, whatever. You know it’s freezing out here.”
You don’t care how ridiculous you look speeding towards his car. You’re shivering and Yoongi takes forever to unlock the door.
You shuffle from foot to foot, wiggling to build up some body heat. You can hear the fabric of your jeans rubbing together due to the friction.
“You know it’s already unlocked, right?”
Oh.
You climb inside and relief washes over you. The heat is blowing warm and strong, making the leather seats even more comfortable. The seat warmers keep your butt cozy, and the vents are aiming towards your upper body. It’s perfect; you could fall asleep right here.
When Yoongi gets in the driver seat, your head lolls in his direction.
“Thank you.”
“For?” he asks.
“Your car feels like heaven right now.”
Yoongi scoffs softly.
“It isn’t always this warm. Trust me,” he replies.
“Well regardless, thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem, love.”
Fuck.
Yoongi’s engine revs as he pulls out of the parking lot. A thought comes into your mind as the vibrations travel up your body.
“Does it ever make your balls tingle?”
He coughs, clearing his throat while checking to see if he heard right.
“Uh, what?”
“The car,” you elaborate. “When you’re driving it…You don’t feel anything?”
Honestly, you’re just chatting to keep yourself from falling asleep. You don’t even expect him to answer as you stare out of the window, watching the SUVs fade in the distance.
“I guess I never really thought about it,” he responds.
You nod, vibing to the music. He’s turned the volume down since you’ve joined him, so you can actually hear each other speak.
“Hm. Sure does make your pussy tingle.”
You don’t think he heard that part. It was barely a whisper. If he did, he chose to ignore it.
“You alright?”
“Yup,” you answer. “Just ready to unwind.”
“Any plans tonight?”
You sit up in your seat, and turn to him.
“You bet.”
Yoongi laughs. “Oh, yeah?”
“I have a date with my bed, and I’m gonna let my blanket top me.”
“Gotcha. So you’re locked down, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Well, it sure sounds like it. I never see you having any fun.”
You give him a look. 
“Well, look who’s talking. Besides, you know I’m dealing with a lot right now.”
“Fair enough, but you’re still allowed to do something for yourself for a change. Some of us don’t have that privilege,” he replies.
“I think everyone has the privilege to do something for themselves. You just have to be selfish enough to go for it, I guess.”
“That is true.”
Yoongi then turns the music up a few notches. You already know what that means. He’s over conversation and wants to get lost in his thoughts. 
As you cruise through the streets, people may look on the surface and think this is some young bachelor taking his car for a late night drive—maybe heading to one of the city’s hot spots. 
But Yoongi is all work, and no play. If it’s not about moving product, it’s placed on the backburner.
You can relate, but tonight you’re switching it up. Self care is calling your name and you aren’t hanging up this time.
“What happened to the garden?”
You’re pulled from your thoughts by Yoongi’s voice. 
As he pulls up to the curve in front of your childhood home, he can’t stop himself from teasing you about your dying plants. You really tried your best with them, but unfortunately, you weren’t gifted with nurturing hands.
“You’re not funny,” you mutter, acting ignorant.
You know you’ve destroyed your dad’s flower bed, but he doesn’t have to make fun of you.
“I’m just saying, shouldn't you cover them?”
“I forgot!”
“You always do,” he mumbles.
You giggle as you’re opening the door; finally having a carefree conversation with your old friend again feels nice. As soon as you step out into the elements again, the winter air nips at your cheeks and you know you’ll be trembling by the time you get to your doorstep.
“Well, thanks for the ride.”
Yoongi just nods and tells you that he’d do it anytime you needed him to.
As you stand outside of the car, you start to get that feeling in your gut. That urge you know you shouldn’t have, but the temptation is stronger than ever.
Yoongi tilts his head, wondering why you’re standing in the cold. You’re frozen, silently debating on what you should do.
Ultimately, you go for it, knowing the risk you’re taking without being prepared for the aftermath. 
You’re even sure why you’re asking, or where you expect things to go. But tonight made you realize something. You miss having a best friend. 
Your best friend.
“Hey, it's late. You wanna come inside?... If you don’t have any plans.”
Regret washes over you as soon as the words leave your mouth. You weren’t ready, neither was he. You curse yourself for rushing it. The silence goes on for ages, but you’re so numb, the cold doesn’t faze you.
Finally, he gives you an answer. “You know I can’t do that.”
Well, now you know you’re the only one still holding on. By can’t, he means he won’t. 
Nodding, you lie and pretend that you understand where he’s coming from. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry about that.”
You were sure he’d be more open now that time has passed. However, you’re still stuck where you left off. He still won’t hear you out.
“There’s no need,” he assures. 
Still, you feel guilty. Selfish.
Foolish.
“Well look, I'll see you around, yeah?” He checks his phone and tosses it on the passenger seat. "I have to go deal with something."
“Okay, thanks again for the ride. Stay safe.”
You try not to look disappointed, but it’s probably no good. You’re sure he hears it in your voice. Or maybe you sound more tired than anything. You are exhausted. Maybe it’s your restless mind that's causing you to get ahead of yourself and open old wounds. It’s best you go inside before you can dig yourself a bigger hole. 
“You'll call me if you need me, right?”
If you need him… 
You always need him. He’s your rock. Well, probably not anymore. How do you learn to forget someone who’s always been there for you?
You swallow the bitterness coating your tongue before you reply. You’ll get over it. You always do. 
Just not right now.
“Yeah, I’ve tried that already. Goodnight, Yoongi.”
You shut his car door and retreat to the safety of your home. You’re unsure if he says it back or not. You walk away before he can respond. 
Everything in your sight becomes blurry as your vision is blocked by a wave of pending tears. You urgently open your front door in case he’s following you. 
A part of you wishes that he did. 
But the longer you stand there, back pressed against your front door, secluded from the same world you’ve just finished servicing—you realize that the chances of that happening are too slim to hold onto. 
Minutes go by, and you start calming down. You find your strength again, and you realize that your vulnerability made you panic. You got too comfortable, and that’s your fault. 
Tonight will just be another solo night; nothing you aren’t used to. 
You wipe your face and rid yourself of all the negative energy. Tomorrow you’ll be fine and the blow of rejection will start to fade away. Shaking your head, you clear your mind and start taking off your clothes.
You put it in your mind that you won’t hold this against Yoongi, and whenever he’s ready to talk—if ever—you’ll tell your side of the story if he wants to hear it.
Until then, you’ll just focus on you because he was right about one thing.
You should treat yourself; you deserve it.
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“Get your sorry ass up.”
Yoongi stares at his hand as he walks away from the battered man lying on the ground. His knuckles are bruised and covered in the thief’s blood. The sight would bring shame to his father. He shouldn’t be out here behaving like a street thug when he’s got power moves to make.
But when he found out there was danger lurking so close to you, he had to deliver the message himself. He’s sure it was heard loud and clear.
Possibilities played through his mind with every blow that rained down on the guy. What if it was your father’s restaurant that had been hit up? What if you had been inside?
He’s furious, enraged; but mostly at himself for how he keeps letting you down. You wanted to forgive him tonight, put everything that happened behind you and maybe try again. But what did he do?
He ruined it.
He always figured that he would, but it’s what you needed to hear. He’s not a good guy or some bad boy you can turn good. Yoongi’s in this too deep to be pulled out. There’s no way he could ever look your father in the eye and tell him that he’s put your life in danger. 
That’s why he refuses to address those feelings he has for you. He’d either end up breaking your heart, or getting you into a nasty situation.
If the wrong person were to know that he has a thing for you, you’d become a weapon for an opp to use against him. Yoongi’s respected by many, but there are some who want everything he has; you’d be added to the top of that list if they knew he’d died for you. 
He can’t lose what his family’s worked hard for, but he can’t lose you either. 
There’s only two options if that line’s ever crossed. Either you’re with him, and you’ll have to step into his world; or you’re not; and the streets deem you fair game. 
The latter infuriates him. He’d kill anyone who would ever think of laying a finger on you. That’s why he has to make examples out of motherfuckers like the one behind him.
“You need to find you something safe to do, my friend.”
Yoongi turns around just as the man rises to his feet, staggering and weak from the beating he’s received. One of his arms cradles his torso while the other wipes blood from his lips. He’d receive pity from anyone without the context, but if they knew what he did to that seamstress—they’d be wondering why he’s still alive.
This is far less than what this scum deserves. His apologies fall on deaf ears. Yoongi’s men don’t give a shit about his apology, and neither does he.
“I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know this was your block too. I was just—”
Yoongi pulls out his glock and fires a shot near the guy’s foot, barely missing him. He doesn’t recall asking him to speak.
“You better assume every block is mine, motherfucker. I own this fucking city. Have you forgotten?”
“I—”
Another shot nearly blows his head off because once again, Yoongi never asked him to talk.
“Who told you to open your mouth?...” he seethes. “Speak again and I won’t miss.”
The man nods, lifting his shaky hands as a surrender. 
Yoongi’s jaw clenches as he contemplates his next move. A few minutes ago, he was set on ending him right in this spot, but after thinking about you he’s calmed down a lot. 
That’s the only reason this man’s life will be spared. His mind is somewhere else now; all he can think about is his own mistakes. This guy’s learned his lesson; no need to waste anymore of his time here.
“Look, don’t ever put me in this situation again. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Sir. I won’t. I promise.”
Yoongi knocks the guy out cold with his gun. He looks over at the officer who was escorting the guy to jail and gives him a nod, giving him the clear to take him in. 
“This was a citizen’s arrest,” he insists, handing the cop a wad of cash.
“You got that.”
He dismisses his men, and goes to have a cigarette while he thinks.
After the criminal is placed in the back of the squad car, the cop rejoins Yoongi as he sits on the hood of his vehicle, having a smoke before he goes on with his night.
“Never thought I’d see you get dirty, especially tonight.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, me either.”
Yoongi looks at his personal phone, looking to see if you’ve texted him, or called. He doesn’t know why he’s checking. He shouldn’t expect you to reach out after how he left you tonight. It’d be a miracle if you ever wanted to see him again.
“It’s not too late, you know.”
“The fuck are you talking about, Shark?”
Shark is one of his longtime friends. He comes from a long line of crooked cops. 
He’s been present through the ups and downs of his friendship with you. Shark’s always been rooting on your side, always telling him to reach out when you left for college.
Yoongi has never taken his advice, though.
“I’m just saying. Maybe you should just call her,” he explains.
“Who?”
“You want me to say her name out here?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
Both of them share a laugh at Yoongi’s reaction, but then silence falls over the night. 
Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Yoongi’s hands are beginning to throb with pain. He tries focusing on something other than that awful feeling, but he can only think about you.
Why couldn’t he just hear you out? That would have been fair. He’s regretting more and more as time goes by, wondering if the opportunity has slipped away.
He notices the way you look at him, the way you perk up when you see him. He knows there are a lot of unspoken words because honestly, he’s always had deeper feelings for you. It was way before you realized you like him as well. He bottled that shit up throughout high school, and when he had the chance to tell you how he felt, he fumbled.
You even gave him a second chance to come clean, and he still couldn’t get it together.
“Seriously, what happened tonight? I see it all over your face.”
Yoongi sighs. “I took her home, and she invited me inside.”
“And you said no? Dude, no way.”
Yoongi looks over and finds his friend’s face stuck in a grimace. He feels shame creeping up his neck, so he quickly shifts his focus somewhere else. 
“What was I supposed to say? You know I can’t let anyone see me walking in her place,” he argues.
“You could have invited her to yours, explained things a bit more. I’m sure she’s capable of making decisions for herself.”
Yoongi’s at a crossroads, but every way he turns leaves him with doubt. It’s like he’s damn regardless. 
“What if it doesn’t change her mind? What should I tell her dad, huh?” Yoongi rants. “He asked me to keep her safe, man.”
“And what do you think he meant by that?”
Shark looks at his watch and turns to Yoongi as he prepares to leave. 
“Look, my shift ends soon, so I gotta go. But I think you know as well as I do that you have the old man’s blessings. Just stop overthinking it. You’ll screw yourself.”
With that, Shark walks to his vehicle, and puts it in drive.Before he pulls from underneath the overpass, he rolls his window down and yells out.
“It’ll be alright, brother. Trust me!”
When Shark leaves, he switches cars with his right hand, not wanting to double back to your part of town in the same ride. As he starts driving away from the secluded area, he thinks back on how tonight has gone so far. That’s when something you said hits him…and it hits him hard.
“You said you needed me,” he whispers.
All day you’ve been surrounded by people, loving each other; only to go home to an empty house. You just wanted some company, a distraction. You wanted a friend.
It’s then he realizes that he’s hurt your feelings more than a little. You weren’t hung up on a crush you had over five years ago. He’s so stupid. How did his brain not perceive what you said as an invitation to hang out?
Just like you used to.
Yoongi does a U-turn and heads straight for your house. He has no idea what you’ll say to him, or if you’ll speak to him at all. But he needs you to know one thing; he gets it now. And he won’t ever let you down again.
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No matter how many times you watch it, the horror classic Thirteen Ghosts never gets old. Your dad laughs whenever you call it your comfort flick, but he’s also not a horror fan so he just wouldn’t understand. 
That bath worked more magic than you could ever imagine. It’s super late, and you should be in bed, but you’ve been thinking about the bottle of wine you bought the other day since earlier.
You aren’t really a drinker, but the bottle was cute. You figured tonight would be the perfect chance to eat some snacks, watch a movie, and give it a try. But as soon as the glass touches your lips, your doorbell rings. 
You’re not expecting anyone this late. When you don’t answer, they pound on the door, startling you. Wine spills all over your hands. Quickly, you use your shirt to dry them off before making a bigger mess. You drink what’s left in the glass in one gulp before checking your Ring camera, letting out a gasp when you discover who’s standing at your doorstep.
“Yoongi?” you whisper.
Placing your phone and empty glass on the coffee table, you go to see what he wants. If you’re honest, you’re a bit worried. Did someone break into the restaurant? 
Your dad would be devastated. 
Without a second thought, you open the door, and interrogate Yoongi before he can even open his mouth.
“Is everything okay? Did something happen to my dad’s—”
“Oh, fuck. No! No, that’s not why I’m here,” he interrupts. 
You breathe a sigh of relief, clutching your chest as the panic slowly leaves your body. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay. What’s up? Are you okay?”
Now that you’re not shaken with worry, you notice how disheveled he looks. His hair is messy; his expression seems anxious, his knuckles bruised.
“Were you fighting?” you quiz.
“Huh?” Yoongi looks confused but then suddenly seems to remember his injury. “Oh, this is nothing. I’m good. I just came to uhh… To see you.”
Your eyebrow raises curiously. “To see me?”
“Yeah,” he confirms. 
“Okay, well… that’s nice of you, but I was planning on going to bed in a bit. I have to get up early.”
You aren’t sure why he’s acting weird. Is he in trouble? Surely, he’d tell you if he was. If so, why would he come here?
“Um, okay. Sorry,” he answers.
You tell him goodnight and attempt to shut the door, but Yoongi lodges his arm into the opening.
“What are you doing—”
“I’m listening.”
“What?”
You open the door once again, fully believing this man has lost his mind. It’s freezing out there, and he’s just standing there babbling.
“I said I’m listening,” he repeats. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what, Yoongi?”
You’ve never been more confused. First, he drops you off and hauls ass across town. Now he’s pacing at your doorstep, fumbling all over his words. Something’s going on.
“You wanted to talk, but I ghosted you, remember?”
Oh. So he remembers that.
“That’s water under the bridge. Just forget it,” you insist.
“So now I’m water under the bridge?”
“What?! No! That’s not what I said.”
“Well, explain,” he pleads. “Or just tell me it’s too late.”
“Yoongi…”
“I just wanna be friends again, but this haunts me. If you have feelings for me, I can’t—”
“I don’t,” you admit.
This is the first time Yoongi has stood completely still since he got here. He stares at you with wide eyes, not uttering a single word. 
It took you a long time to understand your feelings for Yoongi. You had to experience a few unnecessary hook ups and break ups to realize you weren’t in love. You just wanted to fuck him like everyone else.
Who knows where things would have gone? But it would have been nice to let things happen naturally than to bottle up feelings.
You open the door again, and step to the side. 
“Come in. It’s cold.”
This time he doesn’t reject your invitation. 
Yoongi follows you into your living room, looking around and probably reminiscing over the past. Nothing’s really changed other than the furniture. However, the memories of the days you two used to run around while your mom scolded you for messing up the floors are still present.
You point to the couch and offer him a seat while you stand there gathering your words.
“You can sit here.”
“Thanks,” he replies.
Yoongi sits and does that thing he does with his hands when he’s nervous. His fingers intertwine and he just watches his thumbs chase each other in a loop. He used to do it all the time whenever he’d stay too late at your house and his dad would come looking for him.
Your parents always were able to calm Mr. Min down before he could reprimand Yoongi. It took him a while but he finally understood that you and his son were best friends, and your place was Yoongi’s second home.
There are so many evenings he’d miss basketball practice to hold you while you cried after your mom died. Yoongi never left your side. Even when you were unrightfully resentful and angry with him for still having his mom in his life; he understood every stage of your grief.
So no, he’s not just water under the bridge to you. He could never be. He may be wrong for shutting you out, but everyone has their breaking point. 
“I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you. That I wanted you to go with me to college,” you confess.
Yoongi’s jaw nearly hits the floor. You can tell he’s shocked because he starts tripping over his words.
“I-I… I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. You—”
“...Was confused,” you add. 
You can’t help but laugh at yourself and at the situation. All this time you’ve been scared to rip the bandaid off, and the wound’s already healed.
“I didn’t have anyone to talk with about dating and stuff; not from a young woman’s perspective, at least. I would watch rom-coms and thought I had butterflies whenever I saw you. Whole time…”
You fold your arms and lean against the wall, watching the television with a blank stare. Already, it feels like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. So much tension has built up over time, so many unspoken words and unresolved feelings that it’s a relief to get it all out.
“...My pussy was throbbing.”
Yoongi picks his mouth up off the floor, and straightens in his seat. Once again, he’s caught off guard.
“Huh-What?”
You snort. “I was horny, curious… I just wanted you to bend me over and deflower me.”
“Deflower you? The fuck?”
Yoongi’s laughter erupts from his chest, lightening the vibes in the room. It’s nice to hear him laugh, like genuinely grin and reveal his cute smile. You didn’t realize how much you missed seeing the image until it’s presented to you at that moment.
“Well, it’s true!”
“I see you are still an over-sharer,” Yoongi chuckles.
“And you’re still stubborn.”
Both of you look at each, shaking your heads and sharing a fond smile. You can tell this has been weighing on him as much as it did you. He’s regretful of how he handled the situation, and you’re sorry for staying away so long.
You should have tried harder. Yoongi always did whenever it got tough. 
Regardless, it’s in the past. It’s time to move on.
You walk across the room with your arms open, inviting your friend into an embrace.
“Seriously? No way,” he grimaces, trying to get up before you can close him in.
Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough.
“You know you want to. Come here.”
Wrapping your arms around Yoongi, you giggle when he acts like he’s all tense. He always pretends he doesn’t want to hug you at first, but then, he gives in.
“Fuck it,” he groans, pulling you closer.
You melt in his arm almost immediately. You don’t even care if you slide to the floor. All of your weight rests on him, but he still holds you up while complaining about you smothering him.
“I wish I could breathe,” he gripes.
“Fine…”
Yoongi expects you to back away; but instead, you climb on his lap.
“What are you doing?” 
You shrug. “My bad. I thought we were cool.”
Maybe you did move a little too quickly, but it’s nothing you haven’t done hundreds of times. You’ve shared beds, seen each other naked… accidentally found each other’s Pornhub accounts. You were just acting on instinct. 
You’re about to stand, but Yoongi stops you. “We are, but aren’t you mad at me?... From earlier?”
“A little, but…”
“But what?”
“Can’t friends kiss and make up?” you propose.
His hands rest on your bare thighs, fingers gently nudging at your big t-shirt. The room seems warmer now that there’s no distance between you. Or maybe it’s just the fires building in your belly that’s making you hot?
“Maybe…”
You trace his lips with your finger tips while looking in his eyes. You could spend the night like this if it were up to you. He’s beautiful; inside and out.
“Wanna try and find out?” he whispers.
You respond by softly connecting your lips, moaning instantly as your entire body begins to tingle. 
Yoongi pulls you closer, holds you tighter, and encourages you to deepen the kiss you share by parting your lips with his tongue. You don’t deny him, and he invades your mouth—taking over and leaving you dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, he pulls away, and you’re quick to whine.
“I smell wine,” he comments. “Are you—”
“I had a sip, and the rest spilled all over my hands.”
You show him the stains on your hands and shirt, and he just stares in disbelief. “Only you.”
“Whatever,” you dismiss, trying to steal another kiss from his wet lips. “I need you.”
You drag your crotch across his lap, seeking friction. You’re shocked when he grabs your waist, thinking you’re overstepped once again.
“Hold on.”
Yoongi reaches under his shirt and grabs his gun from his waistband. He shoves it in the folds of your couch, and throws you a wink.
“We’ve kissed. Now let's make up.”
With a smile, you get up and grab his hand.
“Follow me…”
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“Get on the bed,” he moans against your lips, pulling away to take off his shirt. 
You begin to move, but a thought pops up in your mind. 
Instead of climbing on the bed, you watch him remove his t-shirt and reveal his ink covered body. You bite your lip in awe at the masterpiece standing in front of you. He has no idea how hot he looks while simply undressing. You’re ready to pounce on him right now, but you pace yourself.
You have all night.
When Yoongi notices you’re still standing in the same spot, he tilts his head with a puzzled expression.
“Change your mind?” he quizzes.
You shake your head, and close the small space between you. Before he can say anything else, you drop to your knees. With skilled hands, you pull on his belt until it's free from the buckle. You flash Yoongi a smirk when you discover he’s watching you with those dark eyes. 
As you pop open the button on his pants, your other hand flattens over his denim covered dick, noting the way it begs to be freed.
“I can’t wait,” you murmur, stroking it over his jeans. 
Once you’re finally able to access his underwear, you reach inside and retrieve his thick, warm cock. You don’t care if you moaned before your lips even touched it. Shame is long gone, and you aren’t afraid to show Yoongi how long you’ve been waiting for this.
“I can tell,” he scoffs.
You let his smart remarks slide for the sake of your impatience, and move in to run the tip of your tongue up and down his slit. His precum oozes out and coats your taste buds, giving you a tiny sample of what he’ll taste like when he dumps his load on your tongue. 
Yoongi hisses, probably reacting to sensitivity. You keep going, giving him a moment to ground himself before you give him the real deal.
While you tease him, you admire his girth. He’s heavy in your hand, but his dick is the perfect size to wrap your hand around it. It’s smooth, but textured and veiny—just like his hands.
No longer able to wait any longer, you part your lips and let your saliva cover the tip. You use your fingers and palm to lubricate the rest of his shaft so that it slides into your mouth with ease. Only when he’s dripping wet with spit do you take him in, and his reaction is golden.
“Ahh, fuck.”
If you could smile, you would right now. Knowing you have him on his tiptoes almost feels as good as the blunt head of his dick touching the back of your throat. 
You can feel his muscles tenses up once your head begins to bob up and down, purposefully slurping loudly to create sinful noises.
“Fuck,” Yoongi curses. 
His voice is rough as he pants through his words, attempting to keep his composure, but failing. 
When Yoongi’s hand finds the back of your head, you look up to see what he’s doing. You keep going as you watch him whisper profanities into the air, running his ringed fingers through his dark strands.
He gathers your hair in his palm, making your scalp tingle and sting due to his strong grip. He starts controlling your movements, managing how much of him you take in at once. It’s not long before you’re choking and gagging on his cock. 
Drops of your spit and tears fall to the floor. Your head starts to spin from the vigorous motions, but the feeling doesn’t prevent you from allowing Yoongi to fuck your throat until it’s raw. 
Craving more, he thrusts into your mouth. The look on his face and the desperation of his movements lets you know he’s almost near his peak. However, once he realizes what’s happening, he swiftly pulls out, leaving you coughing due to the sudden intake of air.
“Look at me,” he commands after you catch your breath. “You’re fucking hot for that.”
“Thank you—”
Yoongi’s hand smacks the smirk off your face. You’re caught off guard, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from gushing at the change in his tone.
“But is that what I told you to do?”
You try to shake your head, but he’s still holding your hair.
“No, use your fucking mouth.”
When you try to speak, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushing them deep enough to gag you.
“You like using your mouth, don’t you?” he asks, but you know he isn’t looking for an answer. “So speak.”
“I do,” you croak around his digits.
“Now get the fuck on the bed like I told you to the first time.”
Yoongi snatches you up, and you scramble to the bed. You sit and wait for him to take off the rest of his clothes, trying to remain patient as you see he’s not in the mood for disobedience. You weren’t bothered the slightest by his lack of respect.
In fact, you crave more; and if you have to beg for it, you will.
“Second thoughts?” he asks randomly.
You notice that his wallet’s in his hand and after a few seconds he pulls out a condom. You get butterflies the moment he places a knee on the bed. For you, it’s not even happening fast enough.
“No way.”
“Good,” he winks. “Because I’m not gentle.”
“And I’m not glass.”
Yoongi growls when he hears that response, crawling over to you at lightning speed.
“Come here.”
He grabs your thigh and pulls you closer, pushing your legs apart so he can access your center. His fingers trace over your lace panties until he ultimately decides to rip them off of you. 
You squeak in surprise when you hear the fabric tearing.
“Yoongi!”
“Shh,” he coos. “They’re ruined anyway.”
With a face burning with embarrassment, you turn away and stare at the wall while Yoongi puts the condom on. You can feel his eyes on you, observing the way he makes you fidget and squirm.
You get too comfortable lying there in your own thoughts. The sensation between your thighs catches you off guard. 
“Ooh, shit Yoongi!”
Your body reacts the instant his dick rubs against your clit. You’re already worked up and ready to be filled, but Yoongi doesn’t want to skip the foreplay.
“Damn, it’s wet.”
He rubs the tip over your crevice, taunting you each time he passes your entrance. Just when you think he’ll slide in, he moves up to your throbbing clit and repeats.
“Please stop teasing,” you beg.
Yoongi laughs. “Why should I?”
“Because—”
You begin to whine and complain, but your words get stuck in your throat when Yoongi suddenly enters your pussy.
“Oh my god.”
Your wetness allows him to slide in easily, but your body wasn’t prepared to take him all at once. 
You grip your sheets for support, but the initial shock of him moving so quickly takes almost a minute to subside. 
Yoongi’s patient, giving your body time to adjust before he worries about pleasure. His thumb slowly massages your clit, getting you to relax under his touch. When your grip on the sheets finally loosen, he makes tiny strokes to test the waters.
“Good now?” he asks.
“Mhm.”
With your approval, he positions himself over you and fucks you a little deeper. Once he finds the perfect rhythm, he moves your right leg and places it on his shoulder. 
You’re already moaning loudly, not caring who hears. You cry out everytime his dick digs into your cervix, exploring places you never knew could be reached. 
You’ve begged guys to go deep, but they’ve always been scared to test their limits. Not Yoongi; he’s giving you everything he has, and even though you’re barely holding onto your sanity, you’d probably cry if he stopped.
“Take that damn shirt off,” he growls, gripping the giant t-shirt draped over your body.
You almost can’t figure out how to get it off, but by a miracle you manage. Now completely naked, you toss the clothing aside and start groping your tits while you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. You thought Yoongi would enjoy watching you, but he’s not impressed.
“Who told you to touch yourself?” he presses.
You don’t answer quickly enough for him. Honestly, you weren’t going to reply because your mind is so far away that his words just drift through your ears.
A hand around your throat snatches you back to real time. He’s pissed, biting his lip and trying not to spill his load before he’s ready.
“Answer me.”
This time you speak up immediately. “No one.”
“Hm. So you just do what you want?”
The sound of his deep voice mixed with the sound of your slapping skin and squelching juices turns you on beyond explanation. That familiar tension starts to build in the pit of your stomach, informing you of what’s soon to follow.
“I don’t like rules, Yoongi.”
“Oh, you will,” he promises.
Yoongi’s thrusts get stronger, making your body shift towards the top of the bed. He somehow keeps you in place using the hand he has wrapped around your neck, but you’re still being bounced around like a ragdoll.
“Since you don’t like it, I’ll finish up and leave.”  His movements suddenly become faster, and it doesn’t take you long to figure out what he’s implying. “You can make yourself cum, right?”
“What?” you shriek. “No!”
His laughter resonates through your bedroom as he mocks your desperation. You try reaching between your legs, attempting to induce an orgasm yourself but he forbids.
“Uh-uh.” 
He pushes your hand away and pins your wrist to the mattress, leaving you with no other resort.
“Yoongi, I wanna cum. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Better watch what comes out of your mouth then.”
You groan, realizing he’s too stubborn to give in. He’s not bluffing; he’d actually leave you stuck. 
You can taste the pleasure on your tongue. You’re so close, but Yoongi’s thrusts are starting to become wild. If you don’t give him what he wants, you won’t get what you crave.
“Tell me now…” he grunts, lust oozing from his lips. He leans forward, pushing your leg to your chest as he tries to come closer. The coolness of his chains pressed against your feverish skin brings you a little relief, but it’s not nearly enough. “You sorry?”
Fuck.
“I am.”
He chuckles. “I know.”
Yoongi’s thumb then wipes the single tear rolling down your cheek. Your body’s restless and seeking some relief from all the tension building inside your core. 
He finally slows down, pacing himself so he’s no longer ahead of you in the race to ecstasy. His finger gently tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking you to relax your jaw.
“You’re mine, right?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“Good... Now open.”
Gauging your reaction, he smirks when you don’t oblige. You stick out your tongue, waiting for what you already expected.
Yoongi spits directly into your mouth, and you don’t even flinch. You look into his eyes as you close and swallow. He’s pleased when you reveal that nothing’s left when you open again.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he moans, repositoning himself.
Whatever he says after that is lost between his swearing and muffled cries as he presses his lips against your leg. He slowly picks up his speed this time, allowing the heat to fill up inside of you before he drills you like before.
“Fuck, you feel so good.”
“You too, Yoongi.”
You’re desperate for more tension, but you’re afraid you’ll be punished if you chase it yourself.
“More, please.”
“More?”
“Please…”
“I got you,” he assures.
Without another word, his thumb finds your clit. His name rolls off your lips over and over, surely traveling far outside your bedroom. Your body tenses aside from your fist pounding the bed. 
“Cumming!”
You can hardly breathe, air getting trapped in your lungs as his hips snap violently into yours. Your back arches as a wave of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your cries begin to fade away and all you can hear is your rapid heartbeat erupting through your ears.
Yoongi doesn’t let up, giving you his all until your body slowly falls back on you. He then pulls out and peels the condom off of his pulsing cock. As soon as it’s freed, he releases his hot seed onto your skin—painting your stomach and breasts white and sticky.
Both of you stay where you are, panting and struggling to catch your breaths.
You can see Yoongi through your heavy eyelids, slumped over and exhausted from everything he’s given in the past few minutes. His hair hangs over his eyes, but you know he’s just staring at your pussy, replaying everything that just happened in his mind.
“Yoongi?”
“Hm?” He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice, gently lowering your leg before he crawls toward you.
You feel like you’re melting when he kisses your lips. It's almost like a dream being this close to him again. Even after so long you remember the way he smells, the way he breathes… You remember everything like it was yesterday.
“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against your skin.  lips make one final journey over your body, kissing every inch of you and not caring about the taste of his cum staining your flesh. He gives you endless compliments and praises, making you bury your face in your pillows. “I can’t forget to taste you.”
“Wait!” you gasp when he spreads your pussy and devours you.
Your sensitive clit throbs in his mouth as he slurps up all your juices. Your body is limp by the time he’s done, eyes nearly shut and your mind shut down for the rest of the night.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he mumbles into the darkness.
Whatever he says next is a mystery because your tiredness ultimately puts you into a deep slumber.
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“I’m so fucking stupid.”
You groan as the sun pierces your eyes. Throughout the craziness of last night, you forgot to bring your phone to bed with you. Now, you’ll have to walk and—
Or you can ask Yoongi.
With that in mind, you roll over and unfortunately find an empty bed.
Of course, he left last night. He was probably out of the door as soon as you shut your eyes. You can only hope it’s because he has work to do and he’s not avoiding you after everything you talked about. You won’t even let your mind go there.
Instead, you get out of bed and stumble to the living room—finding your phone on the coffee table right where you left it. You’re still getting notifications as you pick it up; most from Kaci, one from another employee, but nothing from Yoongi.
Before you make your daily morning phone call to your dad, you text back that server regarding time off, and see what Kaci’s fussing about.
6:58am Kaci: BITCH YOU’RE STILL AT HOME!? 
7:10am Kaci: you so got fucked last night. i want all the detail STAT heaux
You roll your eyes. She won’t be getting anything other than the usual shoulder shrug. Last thing you need is for her to make a scene every time Yoongi’s in the room. 
7:23am You: omw. please cover for me.
7:23am Kaci: already am. get some ‘good morning’ dick sis
“I swear I wanna kill this girl sometimes,” you sigh.
Before you can leave the messaging app, your phone rings. The number isn’t saved so you answer it with caution.
“Hello?”
It’s Yoongi.
“Hey, what’s up?”
You hope he doesn’t hear the puff of air you let out as relief washes over you. You were sure you’d lost him again after the things you did and said to each other during the heat of the moment. Not like you didn’t mean everything you said, but you aren’t sure if he did.
“Nothing, just late for work. What’s up with you?”
“Not much right now. I might go home and catch some sleep,” he replies. “Your car’s outside, by the way.”
“Really?” You walk over to the window and open the blind, shocked when you see your car parked in front of your house. “How did you…”
“I told them I was taking it as collateral.”
“What?!”
Yoongi laughs. “I’m kidding.”
If he was standing next to you, you’d punch him. You don’t know how you fall for it every single time.
“I have my ways. Just um… do me a favor?” he asks.
“Yeah, anything.”
“I think my phone’s somewhere in your house. Can you check later?” 
You look around to see if maybe you can spot it but it’s nowhere in plain view. 
“I know you’re already late so…”
“Oh, yeah. For sure,” you respond. “If you want, you can stop by and look. The spare key is in the same spot it’s always been.”
“It’s cool. I’ll wait until you’re off work.”
“That works.”
Both of you stay silent, waiting on the other to speak. You realize you should be getting ready for work so you decide to end the call.
“Well, I have to get ready so… I’ll text this number later?”
Yoongi clears his throat before he answers. “Yeah, it’s a burner but I’ll get the message.”
“Kay. Bye then.”
“Hey,” he calls out before you can hang up.
“Yeah?”
“Still mine?”
A smile grows on your face, and you don’t try to stop it. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you were definitely still thinking about last night, wondering what it would mean today.
But you can’t let him have what he wants so easily, can you?
“Maybe,” you tease.
There’s a pause, but when Yoongi does speak his tone grows dark.
“You still haven’t learned, have you?”
You smirk. “I suppose I haven’t.”
“Well, then. I guess I’m coming over later.”
Shit.
If you didn’t think the restaurant would burn to the ground without your presence, you’d tell him to get his ass over here now. The mere thought of a repeat of last night has you clenching your thighs together.
No working late tonight. You’re sure it’ll be slow anyway.
“I guess you are.”
“I’m not being nice this time either,” he warns.
You bite your lip, trying to conceal your excitement, but you’re really bursting at the seams. You’re sure you’ll be anticipating his visit all day, letting your mind flood with scenarios. You decide to go ahead and taunt him some more, adding fuel to the already roaring fire.
“Good. Neither am I.”
He begins to speak but you end the call before he can get it out. 
As you stand in your living room giggling, a wave of nostalgia hits you. You remember he’d do the same to you after you’d complain about something silly. You’d be pissed, so the thought of him tasting his own medicine puts you in the lead on your imaginary scoreboard.
You’ve probably done a lot more that got on his nerves in the past, but who’s counting? It’s your job to push each other’s buttons and make up.
Isn’t that what friends are for?
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hope everyone enjoyed !!! let me know what you think !
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dreamescapeswriting · 4 months
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Stress Relief ~ MYG [M]
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WORD COUNT: 1.1K
GENRE: SMUT MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED! Established relationships, soft Yoongi having a bad day (This was supposed to go out back in October but I'd gotten this mixed with another member)
WARNINGS: smut, cursing, unprotected sex, free use kink (all consensual between partners!) small praise, “pretty little slut”
PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
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You woke up to the feel of the bed shifting behind you before your neck was pampered with soft kisses, Yoongi’s hands ran over your body gently as he pulled you closer to him. You could tell just from the energy in the room that he was a little stressed out about something but before you could ask if everything was already Yoongi had already started speaking,
“Want you,” Yoongi grunted like a caveman as he began rolling up the nightshirt that you were sporting, your whole body burning as you let out a tiny giggle. The two of you had spoken a few weeks ago about a kink you wanted to explore and Yoongi was more than happy to indulge in it. 
In fact, it had been something the two of you took great joy in and Yoongi took full advantage of the opportunity whenever he could and each of you enjoyed it more than the other. You had no idea why but being "free use" for Yoongi made you giddy with excitement, not knowing when it was going to happen but being ready for him made it all exciting. Not to mention you were doing it with someone you trusted more than anyone else in the world, you had safe words and actions implemented in case either of you ever needed an out.
"Bad day?" You quizzed, it was already morning which meant Yoongi had more than likely been struggling at work all night long and was coming to use you to let his frustration out and the thought of that had you dripping for him.
"Don't want to talk about that," He mumbled as he began to pull himself free of his boxers, needily grinding himself against your ass like a dog in heat. 
"Need you," He whined out, not caring about how he sounded at that moment in time, all he cared about was getting to feel his girlfriend around him something he'd been craving for hours.
"You're so whiney baby, you want me to take control?" You teased before he pushed you forward slightly, bending you down while you were laid on your side.
"I want you to shut up and take my cock like the good little slut you are," Yoongi hooks his fingers on the waistband of your panties and pushes them down before throwing them behind him,
"God, you're so fucking hot." He groaned, a small and gentle slap landing on your left asscheek making you squeal out in surprise. Yoongi smirked to himself he'd been thinking of this all night, coming home and getting to use his pretty girlfriend to his heart's content. 
Yoongi pumped his length in his hand, grunting a little as he twitched he'd been needing you for hours now and he wasn't going to waste any more time so he pushed the head of his cock into you. Your whimper cut through the silence of your bedroom as Yoongi smirked. God, he always loved hearing you whimper like that for him, all for him too. You were his dream girl and he was lucky he got you when he did and he wasn't going to be a fool to let you go ever.
"Always so ready for me aren't you, baby girl?" He asked, reaching down and rubbing your clit with his thumb a curse word falling from your lips as you began bobbing your head up and down currently doing your best to buck your hips back to him. Desperate for more of him than just the tip that he was giving to you, but he tutted at you slapping your left asscheek gently once again,
"Now who's the needy one?" He grunts, pushing into you at an agonisingly slow pace as you let out a whine of his name, your pussy clenching around him as he let out a moan. It didn't matter how many times the two of you had sex it was always the perfect fit for him, he let himself revel in the feel of you as he let his hands roam over your breasts rubbing them softly.
"You always feel so good around me," He hummed in your ear before gently placing a kiss on your temple. As much as you adored when Yoongi was gentle and sweet with you, you needed an orgasm as much as he did and you needed him to move,
"F-Faster," You hissed out, even though Yoongi was supposed to be the one in control he wasn't going to ignore an order from his girl,
"Fcuk, Yoongi, feels so fucking good," You moaned out as he began to move in and out of you at an erratic pace, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head,
"You like my cock baby?" He groans, thrusting harder into you as he holds onto your hips, skin slapping and filling the air as you cry his name out.
"You take it so fucking well don't you, my dirty little slut." He grunts as he looks down at you, his cock twitching as he tried to fight off the orgasm that was welling up inside of him but he could feel you. He could feel just how close you were from the way you tightened around him and the way your moans got quieter.
"Please...Please let me cum," You cried out, begging for your own release as he let out a growl. His hips slammed harder into you as he heard you begging for your own release.
"Cum on my cock," His fingers find your clit as he begins to rub small circles against it, your head rolling back against his chest rocking your hips in time with his.
"S-Shit! Shit!" You screamed out, your legs feeling like jelly as the tightness inside of your stomach snapped and you came around him. Hips bucking back as your whole body twitched, sending Yoongi over the edge right after you.
"I love you," He panted, pulling his cock free from you and looking down between your legs smirking proudly of himself.
"You're so pretty when you're stuffed full of my cum," He grunted, getting up from the bed and going to find a wet cloth to clean you up with.
"Want me to make some coffee and we can talk about work?" You quizzed as Yoongi sat between your legs, taking his time to gently clean you up as he shook his head at you.
"No, but stay in bed a little longer with me? I just want to cuddle you," He begged as you nodded, quickly making your way to the toilet before heading back to bed with him.
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Tagline: @chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @tinyoonsblog @whitefoxgirl @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @wolfgurl2600 @choisoorin @heyjiminnie @btsiguess-kpop @alicejustwakeup @halesandy @gothic4under4lord @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lenfilms @elizaschuyler18 @whitefoxgirl
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jeonjcngkook · 1 year
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clandestine | myg (m) teaser
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pairing: gangleader!yoongi x f!reader
genre(s)&au(s): gang au, bitch better have my money or i'll fuck ur girl au, angst, pwp, smut
rating: 18+
word count: teaser - 405
warning(s)&smut warning(s): strong language, mentions of weapons, threats of murder
summary: bloodthirsty and dangerous, yoongi wont stop until he gets what he is rightful owed. and if you're on offer, then he just cant say no to that.
banner: @kth1 | @kth1fics
note: hehehe...
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“Sir, over here,” you overhear someone whisper — probably having heard the snoring from above you.
The sound of heavy duty combat boots picking up pace and heading straight in your direction makes you still. You don’t move an inch in fear of getting caught, placing a hand over your mouth to keep your breathing at bay.
From underneath the bed, you count five pairs of boots. They move slowly around the bed surrounding you in a circle. Two of them make their way to the side of the bed where Hee-won lies and another two direct themselves to your side of the bed, vanishing behind the comforter that you had pulled down earlier.
The remaining body doesn’t move from the bottom of the bed. Instead, you watch on as he pulls out the chair from underneath the vanity; the scraping of the chair legs against the floor is like nails on a chalkboard causing you to hiss at the sound.
He sits down in the chair and spreads his legs too casually for someone who is breaking into an apartment which can only mean he has done this many times in the past. He’s calculated and smart — knows how to play the game.
The room is silent.
Nobody talks and nobody moves.
Your eyes frantically dart back and forth between their legs, watching for any movement…but nothing. The sound of a large heavy bag being dropped to the floor makes you jump in terror, your body hitting the framing of the bed.
Someone had to have heard that…
Your body chills at the thought of being caught; who knows what awaits you outside of your hiding spot. Who knows what these men are capable of.
You’re able to make out someone shushing those around him and you watch as the man who is sitting in the chair eventually gets up and walks over to the side of the bed to join the other two where Hee-won lays.
One of the men bends down in your peripheral vision as his leather gloves starts to unzip the bag, emptying the contents all over the floor. The sound of metal on metal hitting against each other is deafening in the small bedroom. You watch as guns, knives and an array of other weaponry is scattered in a small pile on the floor.
“Where is she?” You hear who you presume to be the leader of the home invasion ask. “She’s supposed to be here. I swear if this fucker has touched her, I’ll bury him myself.”
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sunnebeam · 9 months
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"i was hoping i wouldn't have to resort to this."
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A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.
pairing: min yoongi x reader
plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.
warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi unintentionally scares people
masterlist + disclaimers.
note: go on tell me d-day!yoongi isn't tatsu I DARE YOU 😤 btw u don't need to watch the way of the househusband before reading this, but i swear u won't regret it if u do lol it's so funny (and it gives great visuals for this fic!). anyways, enjoy!! i'd love to hear ur thoughts so drop by my askbox and let's chat :)
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Water drips down his neck as he washes his face. Droplets fall down his tattooed back, tracing the meticulous lines and bold colors that contrast his pale skin.
After rinsing and drying off, he dons on his outfit for the day – a fitted, white, short-sleeved shirt that shows off the intricate tattoos on both his arms and some black sweatpants – and puts on his signature apron – a beige, cotton apron with a drawing of his brown poodle on the front. Said poodle is staring at him from the bathroom door as he takes one last look at the mirror.
An old, bumpy scar runs down his right eye.
"Perfect," he says to himself before heading to the kitchen with his dog following right behind.
Min Yoongi never used to wake up this early. But these days, he wakes up bright and early at six o'clock because he has an important assignment.
"What do you think, Holly? Too big?"
The poodle barks in response, and taking its opinion into consideration, Yoongi adjusts his gimbap slices accordingly, making them a tad bit smaller and just the perfect size for your lunchbox.
"Shit!"
The door to your shared bedroom opens and you run out, already dressed in your corporate attire. You run to the kitchen where your husband is and get a huge glass of water.
"I'm late!" you screech, all while gulping down the whole glass.
"But you still have a few hours," he points out in confusion.
"I forgot I have an early meeting!" you explain in a hurry, putting on your heels before giving your husband a big smooch on the lips and blowing Holly a kiss. "Sorry, Yoonie! I'll see you later!"
And you're out the door.
Yoongi blinks for a few moments before shaking his head. He's chuckling in amusement at your mishap, but if any outsider hears his laughter, it just sounds a bit manic.
"Well, looks like it's just you and me, Holly."
Holly barks.
"Huh? What was that?"
Holly barks.
Yoongi stares at the poodle, then at your Hello Kitty lunchbox he meticulously prepared, then back at the poodle.
"She forgot her lunchbox?"
Holly barks.
"Fuck."
Yoongi snaps into action, securing the lunchbox and putting it inside a Hello Kitty cloth bag before running out the door with his cute apron still on. He mounts his bicycle and speeds towards your office – which, if he was driving a car, would have broken numerous traffic regulations but luckily he isn't a stranger to breaking a law or two.
He's almost to your office. He's halfway there.
But unfortunately, there's a bit of a situation.
"What's your occupation, sir?"
The two police officers stare at him hesitantly after flagging him down for pedalling too fast with his bicycle. They're debating on giving him a ticket but then Yoongi answers.
"Househusband."
They stare at him.
"What?"
Yoongi sighs. At this rate, he won't be able to catch you before you clock in.
"Wait a second," one of the officers says, eyeing the tattoos peeking out from Yoongi's shirt and the big scar on his eye. "Are you..."
They stare at the name on the ticket. Min Yoongi.
"...Agust D?"
No way, the other officer thinks. There's a rumor about an infamous gangster called Agust D who used to slaughter his enemies with his own two hands. This guy can't be him. Right? Right?!
They hold a breath when Yoongi reaches into his pocket.
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this," he murmurs.
"Wait, sir. There's no need for violence—"
"Here," Yoongi shuts them up by thrusting one of his most precious possessions.
A gift card for discounts at the local grocery store.
The police officers stare at the gift card, bewildered.
"As much as it pains me to let go of this," Yoongi continues, "take it. Now, I have to go."
And he pedals away, leaving behind one gift card and two very confused cops.
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COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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jjkwifestyle · 2 months
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Silk Touch | Min Yoongi
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warning(s): mentions of sex. not proof read. mentions of female body parts.
a/n: just a liiittle drabble, woke up thinking about this *sob* enjoy! ♡
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god his silk touch...every fingertip that he brushes against your skin is like velvet. the way he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, while nodding at whatever words that were just coming out of your pretty mouth.
how...how does he do it? with every nonchalant face, shrug or sigh as he links his pinkie with yours, plays with your hands under the table, squeezing your thigh in the car. it's all just second nature to him. the way he grips your waist a little tighter as a man walks by makes your head spin...the suave just oozes from him and engulfs you.
not to mention back at home too...caressing the small of your back as you guys cuddle, each touch like a shot of espresso. the very occasional squeeze and grab of your hips as he glances at the tv. Is he that oblivious to how he drives you mad? or is he completely aware? maybe that's why he does it so much.
even when he's fucking you he can't keep his hands to himself, as if literally being inside you isn't enough. squeezing your tits, caressing your ass, groping it, kissing and touching your legs with his head between your thighs. slinking a hand around your waist as he's pound-
"love?" he mumbles, snapping you out of the day dream. he's taken his attention away from the tv. cute. "hmn?" you blink at him, he's now scanning your face to see what's wrong. before he can even ask,
"why do you touch me so much?" you blurt out, not even taking a moment to think how it sounds. he raises a single brow. "not that it's a bad thing! just...it's...nice" you look around trying to find your words before meeting his gaze again. he gives a soft breath, almost a laugh. he's used to your questions now. he plants a kiss on your forehead and sighs. "you're irresistible".
satisfied with his answer, you lay your head back down on his chest and you both continue watching the show. his silk fingertips never once stopping their pacing on your back.
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colormepurplex2 · 4 months
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Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop | MYG
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▻ Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop ↳ ArtProfessor!Yoongi x Artist/CoffeeShopOwner!f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Cozy Romance ⤜ Coffee Shop/Art AU | fluff, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 8,028 ⤜ Summary: It’s like clockwork; you receive the same online order every weekday morning at eight o’clock: large decaf iced Americano, picked up promptly shortly after. His face has become familiar, as a part of your routine as the hiss of the espresso machine. Until, one day, that routine takes an unexpected turn, and you find yourself getting familiar with more than just his face. ⚠️ Very mild language, panic over student/teacher potential date (reader is a student, but she's the same age as Yoongi, just taking classes later in life than most), oral m receiving, fingering, kissing, mild dirty talk, cum swallowing, confessions of the heart
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A/N: This is part of my 'Heartbeat Melodies' mini-series, where I write fics that are inspired by songs. If you'd like to hear the song that inspired this, you can find it here! A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @moonleeai for their amazing beta services!
Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad
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“Large decaf iced Americano,” you call out, barely glancing up from behind the counter.
A deep, familiar drawl pulls your attention, “That would be mine.” It’s only familiar for the fact you’ve heard that voice nearly every day for the last six months.
Your eyes snap up from the tablet, where the next online order has come through, to meet warm brown ones. “I should have known,” you reply before you can think better to bite your tongue. Heat suffuses your cheeks. You pull your lips between your teeth to stifle the groan of embarrassment that begs to be released.
The man chuckles, absently using a knuckle to push up the hornrimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I should be offended or honored by that comment. But, I guess I do come here a lot.”
Nearly every day for the last six months, at least. That’s how often he comes here—to your coffee shop. It’s tiny, barely big enough for a handful of small tables and chairs. But it’s yours, and you’re proud of it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to seem…” you trail off. Not sure how to finish that thought because you’re not entirely sure how you meant it or why you said it other than the fact you’re a bit frazzled this morning and apparently forgot your mouth filter at home. It was a late night last night for you. It's not an excuse, but still.
He waves a large hand in the air, dismissing your apology. “Please, it’s quite alright. I’ll take it as flattery; could use a little boost to my confidence anyhow.”
That almost makes you sputter in disbelief. There’s absolutely no way this man needs any flattery. Surely, he comes by it in droves. Because, well, he’s honestly so gorgeous it should be criminal.
His hair is fluffy, somewhere between charcoal grey and black, though the warm lighting of your cafe gives it a golden honey halo effect. The eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses are dark swirls of espresso that match his coffee order—a straight nose sitting above soft, pink lips that have a light glossy sheen to them.
As usual, he’s wearing a pressed slack and jacket combo, a cream-colored collared shirt underneath with a bold print tie. His choice of ties is what drew you to him in the first place, and made you pay a little closer attention to the mysterious man behind the large decaf iced Americano.
You clear your throat, daring to be bold, while it seems you’ve no filter to stop you. “Well, if you ever need further flattery, you know where to find me.” It’s clear that you give him an assessing once over, his eyes locked onto yours as you do so.
“Do you paint?”
The question throws you off, nearly making you drop the tablet in your hands. Your fingers flex against the case, your thumb brushing along the glass screen. Busying yourself with reviewing the next order on the screen, you turn, giving him your back as you decide how to answer his random question. You’ve never actually had a conversation with him; this man that you feel like you know yet is a complete stranger.
“Why do you ask?” you deflect as you go through the motions of scooping grinds and swapping out the portafilter for a freshly filled one. However, you know it’s not always polite to answer a question with a question; you’re just not sure how to decipher his curiosity or where it came from to begin with.
The bell above the door rings, and you wince as the espresso machine gurgles and hisses loudly as you mechanically pop a cup in the machine and hit the brew button. The noise fills the quiet space of the coffee shop. It’s not until the cup is filled, you’ve added two lumps of sugar, and you’re grabbing a lid that the man responds.
“There’s paint under your fingernails. Or, at least, what I would guess is paint.”
Glancing down at the cup in your hand, you take in the colorful myriad of flecks coating your skin. The colors fill the grooves of your knuckles and hug around the bed of your nails.
“Double espresso with two sugars,” you announce, ripping your gaze from your hand to the interior space of your cafe. A woman steps around the man, giving you a hurried smile as she holds out her hand to receive the cup. You hand it off. “Have a good day.”
Giving the cafe's inside a quick glance, you ensure all the customers within are taken care of. A college student is busy pounding away at their laptop keyboard in the corner, utilizing your free wifi. A half-empty cup of hot cocoa sits cold and abandoned beside them. A trio of friends sit at your only table big enough to seat more than two people, laughing softly and sipping hot lattes and teas. No one seems to need your attention; except the man still standing there, large decaf iced Americano in hand.
You lick your lips, a nervous habit you picked up after endless stressful nights pouring your heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into opening the small cafe. Most believed it would flop; others rallied to your side and helped your dream come true.
“Look, sorry if I’ve overstepped somehow,” he begins, but you shake your head, letting him know he’s not.
Gesturing at the wall behind the man, you finally answer, “In my spare time.”
He glances over his shoulder, eyes zigzagging across the giant unfinished mural covering the windowless back wall of the cafe.
“That?” he asks. “You’re painting that?”
It’s hard to decipher if that’s disbelief or awe coloring his voice.
“I am,” you answer a bit hesitantly.
“Wow!” he exclaims, a giant grin spreading across his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. “I’ve been meaning to ask after the artist every time I come in and see something new added, I just uh,” he brings his free hand up and rubs it across the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor under his feet, “well, could never bring myself to.” It’s pretty, the way his cheeks take on a flush of color as his eyes cut to you from over the frame of his glasses. “It’s wonderful work.”
“Thank you.” You can’t help your own flush of shyness at his praise.
“So, uh,” he lifts his cup and gives it a swirl, the ice sloshing around inside, before taking a small sip through the straw, “I know you probably see it on the order, but for the sake of propriety, my name’s Yoongi.”
Min Yoongi, to be more precise, you know. It’s a name you’ve read so many times it’s ingrained in your mind. However, it’s still nice for him to offer it to you. Willingly establishing your connection one step further than his coffee order.
You feel so silly tapping the name tag on the front of your apron, but you do it before you can think better of it, mumbling your name as if he can’t read it for himself after you brought direct attention to it. “Sorry, I’m not normally so weird,” you give a shaky laugh, willing yourself to shut up before you chase him off from how awkward you’re being.
Something changes in his demeanor, his eyes taking on a light twinkle that sits somewhere between mischief and wonder. “I like weird,” he offers casually as if that doesn’t make your stomach swoop and your heart beat a little harder. “Maybe we can talk more about your art sometime. Maybe over dinner? Or lunch if dinner is too forward.”
If you were a cartoon, you’re confident your tongue would actually be tied into a jumbled knot right now with you frantically trying to talk around it, a comical scene for sure. Yet, there is no knot, just a thick feeling that you have to swallow past. “Um, yeah, sure. That would be great. Dinner…or uh, lunch. Both. Either one. Though, dinner might be better considering my hours.”
Yoongi glances at the vinyl hours printed on the front window by the door. They’re backward from his vantage point, but you assume he has no issue reading them, considering he turns back to you and asks, “How does seven work for you?”
“Tonight?” The beating of your heart lurches again, and you can barely hear him over the rushing in your ears.
“Yeah, if that’s not too soon. Perhaps next week, if that’s better? I don’t want to come on too strong. Or well, rather, what I mean to say is, don’t feel pressured.” You can tell he’s feeling hesitant now, trying to backtrack and offer you a way to politely decline his offer for dinner tonight. You didn’t mean to come off sounding so put out. You just weren’t expecting his request to be for tonight.
Mentally, you dig through your schedule. You’re not closing today. Marvin comes in at noon to help with the lunch rush, and then you leave at four to make it to your five o’clock class. It would be today of all days that your new art class starts. It’s the beginning of the fall semester at the local university, and you just so happened to decide to take a few art classes they were offering, the first of which starts tonight.
The class should only be around an hour long, with plenty of time to get home and change before the date. Is it a date? Or just strangers getting together to talk about art? Isn’t that what a date is anyway, though?
“Seven. Tonight. That would be great.”
“Okay, perfect. Can I pick you up? Or we can meet here if that works better.”
It’s endearing he’d offer, both picking you up and meeting in a familiar place. Considering you live above the coffee shop, though, it makes no difference. Though, he doesn’t necessarily know that.
“Here is fine.”
“Wonderful. Have you tried that steak house on the corner yet?”
“The new one that opened last week?” He nods. “I haven’t, no.”
“Perfect.” Yoongi smiles. “Here, at seven. Consider it a date.” His smile falters, and his brows pinch, forming a line between them. “Not that I…well, it’s not that…it doesn’t have to be…if you don’t want this to be a date, that’s—”
“It’s a date,” you confirm, giving him what you hope to be a warm smile to ease his mild panic. “I’ll see you then, Yoongi.”
“See you then,” he responds, tacking your name on at the end in his deep drawl. The way it sounds coming from his mouth should be added to one of those spicy erotica audiobooks you may or may not have downloaded on your phone.
Just as Yoongi is leaving, it’s like the world finally takes a breath, and the exhalation that follows brings with it a rush of early morning commuters seeking their morning fix. The everyday bustle and hubbub of the day filter back in, and you’re soon lost to the sway of the shop, coffee, tea, and cocoa. It all comes alive beneath your nimble fingers, much reminiscent of the way holding a brush makes you feel: a thrill of the soul with each pour.
☕☕☕
Yoongi
In all Yoongi’s years of teaching, he’s never been late to a class, especially on the first day of the semester. Yet, he’s nearly fifteen minutes late getting into his classroom this morning. Students are already filled in and scattered around the theatre-style seating. No one says anything. It’s far too early in the morning for smart mouths and snarky remarks about his tardiness. Not that he would expect that from any of the students anyway.
“Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min.” He drops his bag and coffee off on his podium at the front of the classroom. Turning to the large chalkboard behind it, he scrawls his name to the side and then begins to write directions. “We will begin with Chapter 1, ‘Mediums and Forms’, in your textbook. Please read quietly, and I’ll be with you all in a moment.”
The day goes on, class after class, and the familiar monotony of it brings Yoongi a sense of peace. This is familiar territory; he’s in his element, not like this morning in the coffee shop. He felt totally out of control and swept up in the swirl of uncertainties and possibilities.
To say he’s relieved you agreed to go to dinner with him would be an understatement. From the moment he decided to change up his routine to check out the cafe Namjoon wouldn’t shut up about, he’s been hooked not only on the impeccable decaf iced Americano, nor the beautifully decorated and painted interior but on the smiling face behind the counter.
Yoongi feels a bit self-conscious thinking about how much he thinks about you. He’s always been too intimidated by the idea of speaking more than a few passing words to you. It’s like every time he gathered up the courage, it would abandon him at the last moment. Namjoon calls it a crush, Yoongi calls it frustrating.
The whole conversation this morning is a bit of a blur to him. Yoongi swears once he opened his mouth it was nearly impossible to stop the word vomit from gushing out…and the next thing he knew, you were agreeing to a date with him tonight.
The day's last class rolls around, and Yoongi feels much lighter as he steps out of his adjoining office and into the classroom to welcome the new students. A few offer him quiet hello’s, some he’s seen from other art classes he’s monitored across the entire department and fine arts program. 
Turning his back as the last few students filter in, he makes the same spiel he has at the beginning of every class. “Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min…”
And so it begins, the beautiful dance of teaching and introducing fresh minds to the concept of forms and mediums. Yoongi is sure he could recite the entirety of Chapter 1 from memory now, with as many times as he’s gone over it today.
“What if you decide you don’t like your form or medium halfway through the project?” a student from the front row asks after Yoongi explains the medium and forms requisite for the final project for this class.
“We’re going to spend plenty of time during the first part of the semester testing out different mediums to know which best suits each of your individual tastes and needs. Regarding the form, I recommend choosing something you most likely won’t tire of. Something that means something to you but also isn’t so complex that you frustrate yourself and burn out before you can complete the project. You’re welcome to, at any time, bring me an idea of the form you’re considering, and we can talk about the intricacies and any potential issues that might arise with using it.”
Another question comes from somewhere in the middle, “Can we choose people, too?”
“A form can be anything that inspires you. If that happens to be a person, then of course. However, note that portraiture isn’t covered until Art 322, but I’ll do my best to help if that’s what you choose.” Yoongi glances at the clock, noticing there are only a few minutes left of class. “Let’s take the last few minutes to wind down, pack your things. If you have any further questions concerning your final project forms and mediums, please don’t hesitate to email me. Also, my office hours are open Tuesdays and Thursdays from two to six.”
As Yoongi turns to begin putting his things away from his podium, his eyes slide across the faces of his last class students, trying to cram them into his mind for the sake of remembering. He always likes to be as personable and approachable to his students as possible; knowing names and faces is always a good place to start.
He has to do a double take as his eyes flick over the very top row. The shock is felt throughout his entire body. It’s not that he’s surprised to see a face he already knows. It’s just that he wasn’t expecting it…wasn’t expecting to see you. Mild panic makes him jerk around, hands gripping at the papers on his podium, shuffling them mechanically.
The first thought that crosses his mind is he can’t possibly be going on a date with one of his students. Surely you’re just here to…to what? He turns over one of the papers, quickly scanning his roster that he hadn’t bothered to check yet. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to snag on your name.
Unease settles across his shoulders. He hates to cancel the date, as he was really looking forward to it, but it’s just…not right, right? There’s a line he shouldn’t cross with his students, even one who he is sure is his age and not the typical college freshman. Yoongi knows this because maybe, perhaps, he might have spent his lunch hour googling you and the cafe. You’re in your early thirties, given the birth year that was viewable on one of your social media pages, and own the coffee shop, have for several years now…a full-ass grown adult—the perfect person to date.
Except now you’re his student. There’s some moral code there somewhere, something about the skewed power dynamic. The thought of going on this date should have red flags flashing in his mind. Yet…yet, no matter how much he tells himself to cancel, he honestly doesn’t want to. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? A harmless date.
That’s what he’s still telling himself as he dismisses the class a few minutes later. He intentionally avoided looking in your direction, unsure if you’d be comfortable with him acknowledging you as one of his students or not.
Much to his surprise, as the bubble of sound dissipates, a soft voice reaches his ears from a few feet behind him, “Fancy meeting you here.”
Yoongi has been so consumed with his own feelings about going on a date with a student that he hasn’t even thought about how you might feel. Are you about to cancel on him? Does he try to convince you not to?
He slowly turns, the stack of papers clutched in his hands, glasses slipping down his nose, yet he doesn’t want to pry his fingers from the bundle to fix them. “Look, I understand if you’d rather not—”
“I’m fine as long as you are.”
He’s relieved for your interruption, for keeping him from saying those words out loud. “Are you sure? If I had known this morning that you’d be one of my students…” he trails off, because he’s not so sure that would have stopped him after all. Considering he’s wanted to ask you out for at least the last four months.
“I’m glad you asked me. Student or not. I promise not to make it weird if you don’t.” You give him a brilliant smile, coy and full of mirth but light enough to make his heart jerk inside his chest.
“No weirdness, got it,” he agrees, unable to help his own teasing smile.
“So, I’ll see you then?” you ask, hefting your canvas bag on your shoulder. His eyes flick to it, noting the splashes and swirls of fabric paint that cover the outside. Yoongi wonders if you painted it yourself.
He nods, letting his eyes drink you in one last time before you turn to go. You’re still wearing the same jeans and thin cable knit sweater from the coffee shop this morning. Even in such casual clothes, you are stunning. A work of art all your own. He doesn’t stop staring until the door to his classroom shuts behind you.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. It’s not out of irritation or anger, just an acknowledgement of how truly and utterly he’s got it down bad for you.
☕☕☕
Seven can’t come soon enough. It only took you thirty minutes to get ready, putting on a simple black dress and flats. It’s not too fancy, but it makes you feel far more put together than just jeans and a t-shirt.
At five til, you make your way down into the coffee shop from your upstairs apartment. All of the main overhead lights are off, leaving only the warm accent lights that line the menu board and the display case lights on. Even now, the space smells delightedly of coffee.
It’s kind of funny, the fact that you’re not a coffee drinker. Everyone finds it odd that someone who doesn’t drink coffee would aspire to open a coffee shop. What they fail to realize is you love the smell of coffee. The warm, roasted, mildly sweet notes are what you thrive on, better than any shot of espresso in your mind.
There is a street lamp right outside your shop, flooding the sidewalk with a pool of yellow light. Standing just within the glow is Yoongi, his back to the shop door. You watch as his head swivels, looking down both directions of the sidewalk, completely unaware that you’ll be coming from behind him instead.
The sound of the lock turning over startles him. He jerks around and laughs softly, taking a step back, hand to his chest, as you pull the door open. “Can’t say I expected you to come from inside the cafe.”
“I would have been down sooner had I known you would be a bit early,” you say, locking the door behind you. “I probably should have given you my number or something.”
Yoongi eyes you, his gaze sliding up and down your body like he’s drinking you in. You hope he likes what he sees. “I think I was so excited about the date that I forgot even to ask,” he admits, giving you a sheepish smile when his eyes finally land back on yours. “You look,” —he gives you another quick once over, shaking his head and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip— “gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you preen under his praise. “You look quite handsome, yourself.”
You’re not just saying that to return the compliment, either. Yoongi is wearing the same thing he was this morning, except the tie is loosened, and the top button of his shirt is undone, giving you the slightest peek at his prominent jugular notch.
“Shall we?” he asks, offering you his arm.
You slip your hand into the bend of his elbow, falling into step beside him. The walk to the steak house is short, just enough for pleasant exchanges. He asks how your day at the coffee shop went, and you ask after his first day of classes. Neither of you bring up the fact that you were part of one of those classes.
“I’ve been meaning to check this place out. I’ve heard excellent things.”
Yoongi hums, nodding his head at your words. “I’ve also heard good things, though it might perhaps be biased considering all the praise I’ve heard has come from the owner himself.”
“You’ve spoken with the owner?”
“He’s one of my best friends, actually. This will be the first time I try it out. I kept telling him I’d stop by, but it always got away from me.”
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “I can’t believe you know Seokjin.”
“Wait, you know Seokjin?” Yoongi asks, surprised.
“I’d say know is a relative term. We get deliveries from the same produce truck. He tried to take my apples one time. I had to set him straight.” That makes Yoongi laugh along with you. “We chat sometimes, mostly about the quality of produce and the best places to get ingredients. I had no idea he was your friend.”
“Small world,” Yoongi says. His smile is warm and inviting. You’re sure you could get lost in it if he’d let you. It makes you wonder what his lips taste like. They have a slight sheen to them like they did this morning. Cherry chapstick? Maybe mint? A nice subtle vanilla?
You’re not sure the last time you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes. But Yoongi has your sides in stitches and your cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much during dinner.
“Oh gosh,” you wheeze between fits of giggling, clutching your stomach. “Ow, ow. Don’t make me laugh again. I can’t take it.” It just makes you laugh even more, the huffs trailing off as Yoongi reaches across the table toward you.
You pry your hands from your abdomen and slide them into his. His fingers are warm against yours, his thumbs rubbing across the backs of your knuckles. It’s a gesture he’s done several times tonight, silently asking for your hands any chance he could.
“Sorry, you just have such a beautiful laugh,” he says. “I could listen to it all day.”
His flattery hasn’t stopped. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two glasses of wine he had with dinner were going to his head. But, he speaks so assuredly and looks in your eyes like you’re truly something special.
Feeling so intimately connected with someone you barely know might be absurd. Yet, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. If you’re being honest, the attraction started long ago, and tonight has just made it blossom into something so much more.
Yoongi has been the perfect gentleman. He’s not tried to railroad the conversation or make decisions for you like other guys you’ve gone on dates with. Whenever a server approached the table, he would defer to you and your needs before his.
“You’ve been so wonderful to me tonight. Please let me repay you with coffee and dessert. If you’re up for it.”
Yoongi squeezes both your hands before letting them go and sitting back in his chair. “There is no need to ‘repay’ me,” he says, emphasizing the word repay. “But, I wouldn’t say no to a date after this date, say in fifteen minutes, coffee and dessert?”
“Fifteen minutes? Coffee and dessert?” You give him a thoughtful look, tapping your fingers against your chin. “Hmm. I think I’m available.” You both break into more fits of soft laughter, contrasting so highly to the high energy from before; it’s intimate, if laughing can be such a thing.
It’s easy being with Yoongi; he’s attentive and curious. “What made you want to open a coffee shop?” he asks as you unlock the door to the cafe.
“I liked the idea of having a space that could cater to people from all walks of life. Businessmen in a hurry? Get it to go. Students needing a place to study? I have a quiet corner for that. College professor looking for his daily decaf Americao fix? Would you look at that? I got that covered, too.” You usher him inside, closing and locking the door behind you. “It also doubles as a great place to have a private coffee and dessert date after a lovely dinner date.”
You watch as Yoongi looks around the cozy space, his attention ending on the mural wall. “What’s your favorite kind of coffee?”
“Would it be weird if I said I don’t like coffee?” you ask.
He glances at you from over his shoulder. “Really?”
You shrug. “I love the way it smells, though.”
“Acrylic?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward the mural.
“Good eye,” you assess, stepping behind the counter to start making the coffee. You grab two pecan cinnamon twirls from the dry storage where you keep extra treats to take up to your apartment at the end of each shift and pop them into the small convection oven along the back wall. “You teach art, but it might be presumptuous of me to assume you also create. So, do you?”
“Not nearly as much as I’d like to. Pastels and charcoal are my favorites to work with. I like the mildly messy, chaotic feel of them. There are few things better than the feeling of taking something so uncontrolled and turning it into a thing of beauty.”
“Charcoal, huh?” Your mind instantly goes to the framed collection of pieces you have in your apartment upstairs. “I can appreciate that.”
“Maybe I can show you sometime.” Yoongi turns from his appreciation of your mural to watch you work behind the counter. He gestures to a few frames hung up on either side of the giant menu on the wall. “Arfé, right?”
You glance up, moving with automated motions to load the portafilter into the espresso machine. “Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah. An experiment. I wanted to try something new and needed some new decor. I thought it was appropriately on theme.”
The half-dozen pieces are all made with swirls of various shades in brown and tan and depict a mix of cups, mugs, bags of grinds, lumps of sugar, and piles of roasted coffee beans.
“Very appropriate. They’re lovely. You’re an exceptional artist.” You’ve lost count of the amount of compliments Yoongi has paid you tonight. You might have been the one flattering him this morning, but it seems he’s making up for that now.
“Thank you. Truly. That means a lot coming from you.” The hiss of the brew machine fills the air, and the soft gurgle of espresso trickling into the small mug follows. “One decaf Americano for one of my best customers,” you say, carefully carrying the steaming cup over to a table beside Yoongi. “Please, sit.”
Yoongi settles at the table, bringing the cup of coffee up to his nose and giving it an appreciative sniff. “Wonderful,” he murmurs before taking a tentative sip. “Thank you, that hits the spot.”
“If you think the Americano is good, wait until you try this,” you say, scooping the twirls out of the oven and onto a plate. They’re perfectly warm and gooey. “You’ve never tried any of our pastries, have you?”
You sit across from him. The table is small enough that you could reach out and cup his cheek if you wanted, and set the plate on the table before Yoongi. He whistles low, “Wow, these do look amazing. Maybe I’ll become a pecan twirl and coffee guy every morning instead.”
Your eyes track his movements, watching as his fingers pinch and slightly sink into the edges of one of the twirls. Some of the warm glaze and cinnamon sugar filling squishes from between the layers.
Yoongi’s lips part and the tip of his tongue peaks over his bottom teeth as he brings the pastry up to take a bite. The moan he lets out surprises you both. His eyes flutter before landing on you and going wide. He chews methodically, his gaze not leaving yours. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips before he swallows.
“Well?” you ask, settling your elbows on the table and leaning into him, expectant.
The smile that tugs at his lips is coy. “Might be one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.” There is a heat in his gaze as his eyes search yours. “What other surprises do you have up your proverbial sleeve for me?”
“Now, if I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises anymore, would they?”
That makes him laugh. “Fair point. You know,” he glances around the coffee shop, “I never knew just what it was about this coffee shop I loved so much, but I think I’ve figured it out.”
“Yeah?” you say, feeling positively giddy.
“Mhm. So,” he mirrors your pose across the table, his elbows nearly touching your own, fingers toying with yours where they’re folded in the air in front of your face, “is it too soon to ask you on a second date?”
“I thought this was our second date.” You raise a teasing eyebrow, a smile quirking on your lips.
“A third then,” he offers, eyes hopeful.
Of course, you want to say yes. And in the spirit of trying to be coy and playful, you lean in with the full intent of showing him instead of telling him how much you want to go on another date.
Yoongi’s eyes flicker to your lips, watching as you deliberately lick them as you lean in a bit closer. Acceptance lies within their dark depths, a flash of hunger at the impending response that’s only a breath away.
As you advance, your elbows slide on the table, accidentally knocking the coffee cup. Liquid goes everywhere; it floods over the table and pours off the side…right into Yoongi’s lap.
“Oh fuck!” you yell, jumping up from the table and rushing around to his side. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance? Does it burn?”
Yoongi pushes back from the table, holding his arms up off his lap as he assesses the mess. “No harm done. It was already cooled off. It's just a bit of a mess, that’s all. I’m fine,” he laughs. “Truly, I promise. Do you have any towels or anything?”
“Oh god, your shirt, it’s going to stain,” you lament, staring at the dark splotch soaking through above his trousers. “Towels? Yes. Yes. Okay. And some baking soda. Come on, let’s hurry. Again, I’m so sorry!”
“Should we clean this up first?” he asks, motioning at the coffee-covered floor.
“I can mop in the morning. Please,” you fret, guilt making you a bit frantic and flustered.
Yoongi lets you lead him up the stairs in the back that go to your apartment. “You live here?” he questions. “No wonder you were coming out of the coffee shop earlier. That’s very cool.”
You make a noncommittal sound. “It’s cool if you like the smell of coffee and don’t mind rising early every day to open shop.”
It’s so hard to think right now, your mind solely focused on cleaning up the mess you’ve made of Yoongi’s clothes. That’s what you get for trying to be sly and answer his date question with a kiss. You’ll be lucky if he still wants that date now, surely.
The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of you. You insist Yoongi sit on the lip of the tub while you dig under the sink for the baking soda that you use for cleaning and removing your own coffee stains.
“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, grabbing your attention. You glance at him over your shoulder, bottom lip clamped between your teeth in an effort not to fall apart entirely. “I promise it’s okay, alright? You don’t have to stress over it. It’s just an accident. It's a pretty funny one if you ask me. If I’d have known we were getting wet on the first—I mean, second date, I would have planned accordingly.”
His words hang between you, full of static and charged with intention. He’s trying to lighten the mood…and it’s working. It’s also making you feel a certain kind of way. Words shouldn’t have the power to do that. Yet, here you are, flustered for a whole different reason now.
“Date’s not over yet,” you respond, unsure where the bold attitude came from, but you’ll take it. His eyes flicker with something like surprise mixed with desire, though it’s gone before you can really be sure. “Do you mind?” You gesture to his shirt. “It’ll be easier if I can soak it in the sink.”
Slowly, Yoongi undoes the buttons on his shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. Somehow, you weren’t expecting him to be naked underneath, but every open button reveals another swath of flesh. He shrugs out of the shirt, revealing a toned chest and taut belly. His nipples are hard, dark chips, standing out in contrast to his smooth, creamy skin. Yoongi is absolutely breathtaking.
In fact, you have to remind yourself to breathe, taking in a large lungful of air that’s so much it makes your chest ache. He holds the shirt out to you in offering. Your fingers tremble lightly as you take it, quickly turning back to the sink and the distraction of scrubbing at the stain.
Reading over the garment tag quickly, you make sure what you’re about to do is okay. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on your back, like heated dagger points pricking beneath your skin. You turn on the water, letting the tap run until it’s hot, before quickly swishing the area of the shirt covered in coffee under it. The hot water alone makes a world of difference, the dark liquid swirling away down the drain.
“Do you want my pants, too?” Yoongi asks, startling you.
Your eyes flick up to the mirror, looking at him through the reflection. He’s talking to you, but his attention is zeroed in on your backside. Suddenly, you’re intimately aware that your dress has ridden up dangerously high. You can feel the cool air of the bathroom kissing the crease between your thigh and asscheek.
Turning off the water, you slowly turn to face him. Your chest rises and falls as you try to take deep, even breaths, but with the way your heart is revving inside, it’s impossible to do so. “Let’s see the damage,” you say lightly, raising an eyebrow in question, giving him a chance to call you off.
When he doesn’t comment further, you close the distance to where he’s sitting and ease down onto your knees. You mentally tell yourself it’s so you can get a better look at the coffee that’s saturating the dark fabric, but you know better than that.
Being so close to him, you can feel the heat of his body. His chest rises and falls as rapidly as yours, and when you look up and meet his gaze, there is no mistaking the fire that you see blazing there. “Don’t think I forgot you still haven’t answered my question,” he murmurs, lips barely moving as he watches you.
You lift a hand, hooking your index finger under his chin and using it to angle his face toward yours. “I’d love that,” you respond, your lips brushing over his with every syllable.
He kisses you. Or maybe you kiss him. It’ll be something you tease each other over for many years to come. You open yourself to him, welcoming the glide of his tongue against yours. The kiss tastes mildly of coffee, yet for the first time in your life, you don’t mind the flavor.
“For me to take my pants off, or the date?” he teases, alternating between nipping and consuming kisses. Yoongi’s hands frame your face, holding you to him as he continues to ravage your mouth.
“Mm, both,” you manage to get out. “Definitely both.” Sliding your hands down his torso, you marvel at the softness of his skin and the already very prominent bulge that your fingers dance over as you try to get a grip on the button to his slacks.
Yoongi breaks away from the kiss long enough to help you with his pants, standing up from the edge of the tub and bringing you up with him. He toes off his shoes, leaving his pants puddled on top of them. “Good answer,” he chuckles.
You let out a tiny squeal as he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and hauls you up, your legs automatically winding around his waist. Thick erection pressed right against your panty-covered pussy, he slowly walks you out of the bathroom and into your adjoining room. You land on the bed with a soft oomph, Yoongi following you down. His weight is a comfort, settled over your body in a warm, hedonistic embrace.
“I’ll change classes,” you pant, flexing your hips against his. “As long as our next date is to an art gallery.”
“Is it weird for that to turn me on?” he responds, groaning as you roll your hips against him again. “The art part, not the dropping classes part. You don’t have to do that if it’s too much trouble. I know your schedule must be pretty set with the cafe.”
You press your hands against his chest, giving him a gentle push until he’s rolling over and you’re hovering over him. “I’ll make it work. I want to make it work. Everything tonight,” you pause and sit back on your heels, dragging your hands along his torso as you do, “I want more. You’re driving me crazy in the best of ways.”
“Says the woman who’s been running through my thoughts for the last several months now.” Yoongi’s lips part in a gasp, turning his last word into a breathly plea as you trace the tips of your fingers over his straining erection. The fabric of his grey boxer briefs is slightly sticky when you brush your thumb over the head.
“It reminds me of making art,” you casually say, curling your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and tugging until he lifts his hips and lets you drag them down. You toss them to the side, marveling at the glory now resting against his belly. Yoongi’s cock is a gentle upward curve, all smooth steel and thick veins. It throbs, bouncing against his stomach, leaving behind a thick smear of precum. “The way you make me feel.”
“Art?” he asks, breathless. His eyes flutter behind his glasses, his chest hollowing as he sucks in ragged breaths.
“Being with you gives me the same feeling as viewing a Duncanson or a Matisse, calm and full of joy. Though, you can also make me feel the chaos of a Kandinsky when you touch me.” To emphasize your words, you wrap your fingers around his girth, angling it up, watching the emotions on his face. The tip of his tongue works at the corner of his mouth, lips parted with every pant and soft moan. “Is this okay?” you ask, leaning down and gently blowing over the leaking tip before tentatively giving it a kitten lick.
“More than,” Yoongi moans. His eye slide closed as you wrap your lips around the head and suck. The flavor of him bursts across your tongue. You can’t help but moan yourself at the idea you’ve made him like this, hard and leaking.
Working as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, you delight in the shuddering convulses you can feel from his body as he loses himself in the sensations you’re bringing him. Yoongi always seems like such a collected individual. He still appeared so well-kept even when he stuttered over his words asking you on the date this morning. Now, though, he’s unraveling into a puddle of debauchery.
It’s a satisfying feeling, similar to when you get into a perfect rhythm when working on a project, bringing him to the edge. You work your mouth and hand in tandem, never leaving an inch of his cock free of your touch.
“Mmm,” you moan, the head of his cock resting in the back of your throat. Yoongi jerks under you, half raising onto his elbows, his eyes zeroing in on where you’re wrapped around him.
His fingers twist into the duvet, bottom lip puffy and flushed as he worries it with his teeth. “I’m going to cum,” he grunts, throwing his head back and moaning his pleasures, deep and throaty.
You quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you suck in earnest. Yoongi cries out a second before liquid warmth floods your mouth. It’s greedy, the way you swallow and continue to lave your tongue over him, eliciting tiny tremors and more moans.
“Just like art,” you whisper, finally letting his cock slip from between your lips. You’re riding your own high, wet and throbbing between your thighs. You can feel the ache in your clit, begging to be touched. All it would take is a few seconds, a few well-placed swirls of your fingers, and you know you’d be floating in orgasmic bliss.
Before you can even think of bringing your hand between your thighs to find relief, Yoongi is sitting up and urging you backward. Your back hits the mattress, and he settles on his side beside you. Somewhere between there and here, he pulled off his glasses. Despite having just found his release, his eyes are still so full of hunger and desire.
“May I?” he asks, pressing a hand against your inner thigh. You nod, eyes locked with his as he slowly trails his hand upward until his fingers brush over the soaked fabric of your panties. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your mouth in a languid kiss. Your lids flutter closed, consumed as you are by his touch.
Yoongi takes his time, toying with the edge of your panties before tugging them down past your knees. They pool around your ankles as he pushes your thighs apart, exposing your weeping pussy to the air of the bedroom.
“Yoongi.” His name is half moan, half curse as he brings his hand back up and cups your heat. The meat of his palm rests against your clit, right where you need to be touched, but the pressure isn’t enough to satisfy.
“An exquisite work of art.” His lips strum against yours, plucking and teasing just the way his fingers do through your wetness. The tips of his fingers briefly kiss your clit, dancing away before returning; a slow build of decadent pleasure.
It’s not above you to beg. “Please. Yoongi, please!”
“Open your eyes, look at me. Let me watch you fall apart so I can brand it into my memory.”
You snap open your eyes the exact moment he slides two slender fingers into your pussy, thumb finally giving the needed pressure to your clit. You’re so worked up that your body pulses around the intrusion, a tiny fluttering orgasm rippling through you.
“Fuck,” you whimper.
Yoongi gives you a wicked, knowing smile. “It’s not over yet, beautiful,” he assures you in a whispered promise.
His fingers are long, able to reach the perfect, special place inside you. As he strokes his fingertips, moving them in an undulating wave, his thumb swirls in a circle around your clit.
The next orgasm is less surprising, building to a heightened peak that has you crying out as you careen over the edge, entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. “Yoongi, fuck!” you babble, your whole body alive with sensations of pleasure.
“That’s it,” he coaxes. “So beautiful.”
Your body shudders around his hand, his fingers slowing down their rhythm until you finally recover. The slide of his fingers along your walls as he withdraws makes you wish he’d put them back in…or maybe something else. The bereft feeling lasts only a moment before Yoongi gathers you into his arms. He’s completely naked, and you’re still wearing your dress, but you feel just as exposed as he is…only, it’s your soul on display for him instead of your body.
You wait for the feeling of vulnerability to filter in, that broken feeling of uncertainty. But, it doesn’t come. The only thing you feel is complete and utter content. It’s not even the post-orgasmic bliss that’s clouding it, either. No, there’s plenty of that, but it feels different; he feels different.
“Yoongi,” you begin, resting your cheek on his chest. You want to confess to him, but the words get choked in your throat. Is it too soon? Are you completely crazy? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Fuck. Here goes nothing. “This feels good, really good. Is it too soon to say…?”
“Too soon to say?” he prompts.
You absently trace haphazard swirls and lines across his chest, trying to think of how to word it. “I, well…”
“Too soon to say that I think possibly, maybe, I’m falling for you?” You look up at him, surprised by his words. Yoongi looks at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. “Because that’s exactly how I feel, too.”
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◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2023-12-30 ColorMePurplex2
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bonny-kookoo · 10 months
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Jungkook
𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Jungkook ✅️
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Wrong place, wrong time, right person.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, eventual smut
There is no Taglist for this fic.
This storyline is considered finished, but will receive minor drabbles on occasion.
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■: Full Chapters | □: Drabbles | ◇: Other sidecontent
■ Part 1: Hide me
□ Drabble 1
■ Part 2: Leave Me
■ Part 3: Helping Hand
■ Part 4: Not The Same
□ Drabble 2
□ Drabble 3 [slightly NSFW]
□ Drabble 3.5
□ Drabble 4
■ Part 5: Crossed Lines
■ Part 6: Acceptance
□ Drabble 5
□ Drabble 6
□ Drabble 7
□ Drabble 8
■ Part 7: Wake Up Call
□ Drabble 9
□ Drabble 10
□ Drabble 11
■ Part 8: Wild Love
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𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Yoongi
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The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Yoongi, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, strangers to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, eventual smut
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■: Full Chapters | □: Drabbles | ◇: Other sidecontent
■ Part 1: Business Decisions
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flowerwrites06 · 6 months
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forest bride — myg
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FOREST BRIDE | Min Yoongi | Oneshot | Requested by Anon
Original Request: hii i would like to request an arranged marriage au that turned out as a healthy relationship, unlike where oc came from y'know family full of mistreatment and favoritism. any member is fine! thank u! Plot: The business transaction of a marriage between two previous warring clans takes an unexpected turn. Pairing: Yoongi x OC (Name: Kiku) Genre: Historical Inspired | Arranged Marriage Rating: 18+ Word Count: 8.9k Warnings: emotionally distanced family dynamics, emotional abuse and bullying from family members, minor character death (mentioned), angst, explicit sexual content (unprotected, gentle). Author's Note: This was soo much fun to do! I hope you like reading it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you to the anon who requested this <3
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Kiku was a quiet daughter amongst children of four in the Moon Clan. She was in the middle of the line of birth, often keeping to herself while her father doted on her brothers and her mother babied Hanaka, her sister. Kaito, the oldest son of their family, was the only person who ever paid attention Kiku.
He taught her how to play the Koto when they were younger. The soft plucking of strings were the only sounds she made in her household. Her mother, Keiko complimented the sound with the assumption that it was Hanaka. When Kaito explained that it was Kiku, their mother pointed the lack of precision at the ends of each verse.
Kiku felt safe and comforted under the wing of Kaito.
But fate had other plans.
Kaito grew sick after a hunting wound turned gangrenous and the winter only worsened his condition. When he passed, Kiku felt the searing and back-breaking weight of her family's scrutiny.
Suddenly she was no longer Kaito's companion. She was a mouth they didn't want to feed.
On the fresh cusp of spring, her parents unceremoniously announced her arrangement to marry the chief of the Onyx clan. Their rival.
"Kaito said they were dangerous," Kiku said as she knelt on the ground of their main living area. Her parents stared down at her while Hanaka and their younger brother Haruki sat on the cushioned mat.
"Kaito isn't here. Don't name him when we haven't finished mourning, stupid girl," Keiko spoke through gritted teeth.
"You will marry Chief Min Yoongi and give this family an important alliance," Daiki said with a finality to his tone.
The Onyx Clan was notorious for raiding other clans, enslaving their high-born families and treating any foreign spouses like dirt. Preventing them from causing any problems in the Moon Clan was to keep them at bay with something that they didn't think was a risk.
Keiko would never send Hanaka to a place like that. Perhaps Kiku was prepared specifically for this very alliance, forcing themselves not to love her so they could make a difficult decision. Perhaps that was just her own heart trying to find a glimpse of love in a place that had none for her since the beginning.
Kiku lowered her head in a solemn acceptance, her dress still black and her heart still raw from mourning the only family member who loved her. "I will do as you wish."
-
The wedding flourished during a misty, cold morning just at the skirts of dawn where purple kissed the edges of the mountains. Kiku wore a white dress of pretty silk, embroidered in both ivory and crimson thread as if the cloth bled. A white veil laid over her head giving the world around her more of a misty vision.
They held the wedding in the central border between the Moon and Onyx Clan. There was a gentle plain where it was decorated with flowers, divided with wood and a tea set prepared on a small wooden table. Her father walked her over to the table.
Kiku forced herself not to look at her groom just yet. Instead staring at the teapot in front of them, spouting a plume of steam with the faint hint of jasmine and honey in her nose. Tea ceremonies during weddings were a common tradition amongst both clans. Thankfully, it was a tea that Kiku enjoyed but the symbol of it dawned on her like a heavy weight on her back.
Sharing tea with a man outside her family was a sign that she was now connected to him. Bonded to him. A man that Kiku hadn't even looked at yet. So she gained some bravery within herself and stared up.
Min Yoongi wasn't a large man but he was taller than her. In this vulnerable state, he looked like a looming statue. It wasn't necessarily his stature but his presence that created weight. His black eyes pierced deeply into her as if peeling off layers of every protective sense she had of herself.
A deep scar ran down his eye, making it a little greyer than the left eye. His lips were pursed and a little pink while his pitch black hair was long to the nape. Short hair was often a sign of a deadly warrior. Someone who killed many without mercy and had little honour. At least that was what her parents told her.
The esteemed monk stepped to the front of the altar and began to recite ancient chants of a bonding ritual. Kiku tried to focus on the words but she couldn't stop keeping Yoongi's gaze. His eyes softened just then when she wasn't loosening her gaze either. As if he was waiting for her to look at him.
For a brief moment, Kiku noticed something gentle behind that demeanour. Or perhaps it was yet again her mind tricking her into feeling something positive when her world was turning upside down and she couldn't do anything about it. Yoongi glanced briefly over to the monk as they stepped to the table.
He waved his hands as he spoke his chants before gesturing to a young boy.
It was the father's duty to pour the tea. So Daiki poured it with a solemn face, almost bored. The waft of jasmine and honey coated her nose, giving her some comfort.
The groom shared his tea with the bride first. Yoongi's hands were veined heavily as if he were training in the dark hours of the morning before coming here. He reached out carefully, slow enough so Kiku didn't feel shocked. He pulled at the fabric and revealed her face, the cold morning breeze kissing her heated up skin.
Yoongi picked the tea cup, softly placing the brim of the cup to her lips.
Kiku kept her eyes on him right until she felt the warm honey touch of the tea on her tongue. She slowly pressed her lips together as he pulled the cup away. Just as Yoongi's cup clinked down, she picked up her own cup.
Yoongi lowered his head a little, making it easy to her to gently tip the cup. He took a sip, his throat bobbed up and down before she placed it back on the table.
The ceremony had been sealed. Even as Kiku foolishly tried to look back and say goodbye to her family, her mother was already fixing Hanaka's hair and her father continued speaking to Haruki. Niether of them gave any indication that they wished for a goodbye so Kiku turned back without a word.
Yoongi held her hand, just barely brushing at first to ensure Kiku would respond.
Kiku curled her fingers around his, allowing him to fully intertwine together before making way to the horses.
Yoongi clasped her waist, pushing her up to sit on the horse. Then he sat behind her, grabbing the reins as the scent of rain wafted in Kiku's nose.
The air turned wet to the touch and she noticed the darkened splotches on the tree bark of a soft drizzle slowly turning to gentle rain.
"Are you sure you don't want to speak to them?" Yoongi uttered his first question as her husband and Kiku wasn't sure how to respond or feel.
Kiku glanced briefly at her family, seeing Haruki rubbing his brow in boredom while her mother was still having a conversation with Hanaka, touching her chin. Still none of them tried to look her away. "It's alright."
Yoongi didn't order the horse to move for a few minutes before a small hum vibrated through his chest, tingling her back. "Very well," he said. He made a clicking noise and the horse began to gallop at a steady pace.
The forest that was considered Moon Clan's territory was an identical stream of teal leaved trees and small wildflowers, clustered amongst light brown mushrooms and wet lands. Kiku enjoyed walking through them purely because it was peace outside of her household.
However, Onyx Clan's territory harboured something so different that it almost felt magical. There were still those collections of teal leaved trees that wafted a sweet scent. Other than that, she saw patches of yellow and pink flowers, flat mushrooms that blushed at the edges and pretty deep green vines that wrapped around dark tree bark.
The sun began peeking a sharp light at the edge of the mountains, making the distant rivers look like melted gold.
The Onyx Clan itself was a beautiful village, with calmly sleeping cows and horses in their stables. Night food stalls open for business as families were out to eat chilli noodles and honeycomb candy. Moon Clan was so used to clean diets and fresh fish that the deep, spiced notes of the stalls overwhelmed Kiku, reminding her even more than she wasn't in her old household anymore.
People of the Onyx Clan gave way when they noticed Yoongi riding into the village. Their faces filled with smiles and excited whispers as they noticed her white dress. A little girl waved shyly at her.
Kiku hesitated but waved back with a faint smile.
As they arrived to the main cluster of houses for the high-born Min family, Kiku saw a group of people waiting for them.
Yoongi jumped off the house with a thud before gently holding onto Kiku again and helping her onto the ground as well. A small set of stairs led up to the cluster of houses.
When they reached, the older woman in centre gave a kind smile. By the way she was dressed in a beautiful silk kimono and the way Yoongi bowed low when seeing her, Kiku knew she was the matriarch of the family. Seeing so much kindness after her grief was something Kiku hadn't prepared herself to expect. So for a moment, she felt lost and unable to respond. She managed to give a wide enough smile.
"Bloody hell, Yoongi, you scared the shit out of her," a young woman from the side chuckled. Not in mockery but just jovial nature.
"Yun," the older woman reprimanded with a serious expression. "Manners." She turned back to Kiku with a smile. "Sorry, my dear, I understand you're in a new place. And our clans haven't had the best relationship but you are family now." She reached out and touched her hand.
Kiku could've been moved to tears at a warm mother's touch but she kept herself strong.
"My name is Hwayoung," she said. "These are my daughters Nari and Yun. I have a son named Yeong but he's away on a trip and will return tomorrow."
Kiku nodded. "It's lovely to meet you."
Hwayoung's flickered to Yoongi. "Let's have dinner and then you both can go rest."
After their dinner concluded and Kiku's belly was warm, they convened back to their bed chambers.
Kiku was given night dresses and also new clothes for the next few days. Especially since her family didn't give her any dress to take except for one.
For a while, the room was left empty with just Kiku watching the fire flicker before skimming through the books laid upon the mantle. It was mostly war and history stories along with some manuals on mastering the sword. Kiku wished she had some books on the Koto to play and fill her days that didn't have to do with having Yoongi's children. But she wasn't sure.
Hwayoung and Yoongi's sisters seemed nice enough but there was no way of telling whether it was a momentary ruse. After all, they couldn't be rude to her in front of everyone. Although a part of Kiku wanted to believe that their kind faces were genuine.
The door then clicked open. Yoongi walked through, wearing a relaxed black silk shirt and his hair tousled as if he had just taken a bath. He closed the door behind him, expression taken aback for a moment as if he hadn't expected someone in his bed chambers before softening.
"Do you have everything you need?" Yoongi asked.
"Yes, thank you." Kiku walked forward to him as he sat at the edge of the bed. She didn't say anything yet but Yoongi's throat bobbed up and down.
Stammering, he said. "We can just sleep."
Kiku blinked curiously. Of all the things she expected, this wasn't one of them. It was relieving that he was kind but to completely let her adjust to the new place was not on the list of expectation. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," Yoongi said, keeping his eyes on her. "It's been a long day. We should both rest."
Kiku intertwined her fingers together and nodded, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. "Alright. Good night."
-
In the morning, Kiku awoke to an empty space in her bed. When one of the maidservants entered to serve her, she explained that Yoongi went out to train early in the morning just before breakfast to keep him awake.
Kiku hoped she didn't look scared to deter him into performing any marital duties. Perhaps throughout the day, she could try to comfort him. She knew what she was getting into.
After taking a warm bath with the maidservant being surprisingly gentle and kind, Kiku was called into breakfast by Hwayoung.
The Min family gathered under a gazebo structure made from black wood. It was round and the food laid out smelled like home in a place that hadn't been her home for a full day yet. Baked fish, soups, rice, fruits for sweetness. It was a spread for something that usually rushed in her family. Or at least Kiku would have to eat quickly.
Kiku sat down next to Yoongi while Yun and Nari continued on their conversation. Yoongi's brother, Yeong came in from his trip and he looked a softer compared to his older brother and smiled often. Usually making jokes with his mother.
Yoongi ate fish and seemed to prefer the soups over rice.
While the others were deep in their conversation, Kiku leaned in slightly. "How was training?" she asked.
Yoongi looked up, again a little shocked but quickly softened. "It was good."
"Yoongi gets quite sore after his training, Kiku," Yun said with a small smirk. "Maybe later in the afternoon, you should give him a massage. Lord knows he needs a good one."
Yoongi glared for a moment but Kiku found it endearing.
"Yun," Hwayoung reprimanded but with a playful air this time rather than the disciplinary one of last night. "Kiku should not be forced to do anything she doesn't want to."
Kiku stammered. "I'm alright with it. I used to give shoulder massages to my brother all the time."
Yoongi cleared his throat. "It's really alright." He nodded.
Kiku smiled politely, lowering her head.
"Perhaps Kiku should come spend the day with us since brother insists on being boring," Yun said.
"I am new here," Kiku said.
"A tour then," Nari said.
Hwayoung perked up. "You can take her down to the markets and get some silks or jewellery. There's lots of music playing there too."
Kiku blinked curiously. "Would there be any Koto players?"
"You like the Koto?" Hwayoung asked.
"My brother taught me how to play." Kiku's heart clenched at the mention of him again. It had been so lovely to be in a place like this. How nice would it have been if their family all spoke so easily to one another.
"That's sweet. How is your brother now?"
"He's passed away," Kiku said.
"I'm sorry, my dear." Hwayoung's eyes turned sad. Both of empathy for her but something else. "I lost my husband a while ago as well. I understand it can feel empty." The table turned quiet for a few moments to remember their father
"Thank you." Kiku's words were simple but Hwayoung didn't fully realise just how much comforting words directed at her. Like a warm, tight hug that she could cry into.
-
Kiku spent her time walking around with Yun and Nari as they explained all the ins and outs of the clan's main village. They had three smaller towns that used the same supplies and answered to Yoongi as Chief but this was the clan that Yoongi's ancestors had built and it was beautiful.
Nari took her to the bookshop and silk store. Kiku bought herself a pretty purple silk dress while also getting books on poetry that she used to enjoy listening to. A poetess would visit their clan when they were younger and Kaito would work in the shadow puppet shows to re-enact them.
It was one of the few things Kiku was allowed to watch with the family while helping Kaito work with the puppets.
Then they went to the food stalls. Kiku ate spicy dumpling noodles with mushrooms foraged from the forest. Apparently they helped with childbearing as the old woman stated, clearly knowing that it was going to be her who bears the next Chief. Kiku hadn't quite let that sink in but even when she did think about it, it wasn't a horrible thought.
Kiku, Yun and Nari then made their way to the training grounds once their bellies were full and their cheeks hurt from laughing. Kiku hadn't laughed or smiled like this since Kaito made jokes to cheer her up. While they did bicker, Yun and Nari seemed like they were close and loving to one another.
Kiku wondered if Hanaka and her would have ever been like that if their mother didn't get involved so much.
At the centre of the training grounds, Kiku saw Yoongi training with his younger brother Yeong. He spoke instructions for Yeong to follow, keeping one hand behind his back as if to hinder himself from making any strong moves. Yeong kept his hands tight on the hilt of the sword, swinging right against Yoongi's parries as the clang of steel whistled in the air.
Kiku found herself seeing the concentrated scrunch of his dark brows, sharp jawline a little clenched as he parried another attack. His black hair was tied back with chunks of it falling over the frame of his face. "He does this every morning."
Yun hummed. "You like what you see?"
Kiku cleared her throat. "It's nice he's teaching his brother."
"Yeong should focus on his studies too but he keeps running to brother for more training," Nari said. "Yoongi never refuses. He likes training for no reason."
"Ever since father died, brother trains constantly. There's no war but he always says there might be danger," Yun said. "Even with your alliance, he's still weary." Nari quickly nudged her arm and for the first time, Yun felt a little uncomfortable.
Kiku pursed her lips together. She wondered if Yoongi was suspicious that her father would run an attack on them regardless of their alliance. While Kiku was a small risk to lose in the family, her father still may break the deal. She had little trust in her father and wouldn't be surprised if he wishes to prove some kind of point.
As she shifted in and out of her thoughts, Kiku saw Yoongi turn to notice them watching. Notice her watching. Kiku tried to look down at the wrapped silk dress in her arms, hoping it wouldn't look too suspicious. Yoongi turned to tell Yeong to take a break before making his way over to Kiku.
"Looks like your husband wishes to speak to you." Yun smirked, returning to her demeanour as if nothing happened. She pushed Nari towards Yeong to speak to him instead.
Yoongi raised his brow as his sisters rushed away. Beads of sweat had formed on his hairline as he met Kiku's gaze. "They didn't bother you too much?"
Kiku was shocked by what sounded like a genuine question. "No. They were lovely. They showed me around the main town."
"I can see that," Yoongi said before giving his sword away to a servant. "Come with me."
Kiku nodded and followed him out of the training grounds.
They moved from the training grounds back into the cluster of houses where the Min family resided. Yoongi escorted her to their personal house and Kiku wondered whether Yoongi wanted to pursue their marital duties now that he was given time.
It was strange but Kiku's heart pounded not quite out of fear or worry. It was simply curiosity and perhaps even a little excitement. Everything Yoongi had done so far was give her comfort.
As they entered the main house, a beautiful polished Koto stood in the living area.
Kiku's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the Koto which had beautiful ivory finishes and a soft chair to sit on while playing. "Is this for me?" she asked in a low tone.
"You said you used to play Koto. I figured you'd like to play in your free time," Yoongi said. "Your parents didn't pack much for your trip." He shrugged.
Kiku's lips parted as she reached out and touched the Koto. Memories of playing with her brother and learning every note with him burst in her like sweetness. Tears formed a thin gloss on her eyes, as she took a deep breath.
"Is it alright?" Yoongi asked.
"It's perfect," Kiku said. She turned and smiled. "Thank you. You didn't need to do that."
"It was nothing," Yoongi said. "It's your home now too."
Kiku nodded as her heart swelled.
"Also if my mother starts giving you too many lessons, I can get you a secret room."
Kiku let out a small chuckle. "It's okay. I'd like a lesson."
Yoongi pressed his lips together, a hint of a soft smile forming on his features which only made Kiku's heart warm.
-
Kiku's time in the Onyx Clan was far more pleasant and loving than she ever expected. Before she even realised, four months had passed. Kiku spent days with Yun and Nari, had meals with Hwayoung and then spent a quiet night with Yoongi. It was still innocent between the two of them but she enjoyed those quiet moments sharing things about their day. Yoongi still didn't speak on any personal things and Kiku didn't want to pry on how he got the scar on his eye or about his father's death. But it was still nice.
Kiku nearly forgot that she had another life prior to these few months. It was only when her younger brother, Haruki came to visit the clan. Discomfort returned to her chest, aching and making her twitch. She barely spoke to Haruki and every time they had a conversation, it was malicious. Haruki found joy in insulting her and demanding her to do things as a way to mimic their father.
Kiku reminded herself that she wasn't in that place anymore. This was her home too. She wore her new purple silk dress and pinned her hair up while the servants prepared a tea set on the floor table.
Haruki entered the private house as escorted by the servants. A childish grimace on his face as always but his chest puffed to look like father.
Kiku kept sited at the table.
Haruki stood over her for a few moments as if waiting for her to stand. "You wouldn't bother to see your brother at the border."
"You've come at a busy hour," Kiku said. Truthfully, she wanted to be in the warm comfort of her home to breathe easy and hide her shaking fingers. "What did you need?"
Haruki scoffed and sat down, tapping the side of the teacup. "Father's dead."
Kiku had little love for her father but she still sit in a moment of silence, unable to know what do with the news. "What happened?"
"We need more supplies," Haruki said, ignoring her question.
It was courtesy anyway so she didn't ask again. "The Moon clan has spare granaries for those occasions."
"We have an alliance." Haruki eyed her up and down. "I'd expect you to tend to it since you're clearly not tending to any children."
"What happened to the granaries, Haruki?" Kiku asked, emphasising his name.
Haruki pursed her lips, keeping his eyes on her gaze and waiting for her to look down. When she didn't, Haruki's face twitched. "We'd been using it."
"For what?"
"That's none of your concern," Haruki said.
"So not emergencies then," Kiku said.
"You can't speak to me that way." Haruki chuckled bitterly.
"I'm the Lady of this territory and your older sister, I can speak to you in whatever tone is necessary." Kiku narrowed her gaze. "What happened?"
Haruki tightened his jaw like a stubborn child. "We'd been taking from it for the banquets. Father and mother celebrated a lot because you were gone."
"And after brother's death," Kiku said.
"Don't talk about brother."
"He was my brother too. More a brother than you ever were."
Poison laced in his voice. "Kaito spent time with you because he felt bad for you. You were this pathetic thing crouching around everywhere. The only time people said anything nice about you was in order to fuck you. Don't pretend you were someone special to him or Yoongi." Haruki gestured to the door. "He's not even willing to put a baby in you." He chuckled.
"I don't appreciate being spoken for, Chief Min," Yoongi's deep voice shook through the room.
Haruki turned his head, expression turning sour.
Yoongi walked into the house, shadows forming harsh lines on his face as something dark flashes across his expression. For a moment, he looked like the exact nightmarish image of what the Moon clan thought of the Min family. Even barefooted steps added a heavy echo in the air that it sent chills down her own spine despite the fact she knew this demeanour wasn't for her intimidation. "You can have your supplies at the border."
Haruki deflated as if letting out a sigh of relief. "I should've gone to you first then, Chief. It seems I expected too much of my silly sister." He gave a triumphant smile to her.
"Of course, she made the mistake of thinking you were far too competent." Yoongi intertwined his fingers together, veined and hardened from training.
Haruki's expression turned again, cheeks reddening. "Excuse me?"
"Don't worry, I won't make that mistake." The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Perhaps we'll have a charity basket at the border."
Haruki stood to his feet quickly, shaking and trembling like a little boy. "You go too far."
"Do I? Because it seems as if you've come here asking for more than the agreed alliance and proceeding to disrespect my wife," Yoongi said. "The way I see it, giving you a charity basket is more mercy than you deserve currently. I suggest you take it quietly."
Haruki had all the inflated confidence their parents bloated into him from childhood. If he was even the slightest bit stupider, he would speak and in a brief second of that stupidity, he almost did. But then he glared at Kiku. "You'd let him talk to your family like that?"
Anger spread through her chest. Now he wanted to be family, when it benefited him. "If only you were true family then perhaps not."
Haruki grimaced, giving a softer glare to Yoongi before turning on his heel and stomping out of the house.
Kiku let out a deep, shaky breath as her spine began to ache from the tension. She closed her eyes and tried to catch her calm again, taking the scent of wood and warmth in her comfortable home. She heard Yoongi moving until she heard his hum right at her ear.
"Quite the unpleasant family you have," Yoongi mused.
Kiku couldn't help but let out a small, saddened chuckle. "Kaito was the only good one."
Yoongi turned and sat down next to her, shoulders pressed.
The heaviness gave Kiku a wave of comfort like the way his breath hit the back of his neck when they slept.
"If he comes again, I'll ask the guards to delegate him to me or my mother," Yoongi said. "There's no need for you to speak to them if you don't want to."
"You won't be burdened by them?" Kiku asked, turning her head and finding his face incredibly close.
"No one should speak like that to you especially not in our own house." Yoongi waved his hand.
Kiku smiled as her heart burst into little butterflies, creating a lump in her throat. She leaned in and pressed a small kiss on his cheek.
Yoongi turned his head just as Kiku was pulling away, their noses brushed against each other. Dark eyes pierced into her, keeping her still in her position even though her body ached for how close they were. Yoongi kissed her lips, shyly at first to help her adjust to the action.
The tantalizing warmth that passed through Kiku pushed her to lean into the kiss, cupping his cheek. Yoongi's hands held onto her lower back pulling her close until she was pressed flush against his chest.
His lips were hot against hers, keeping his grip on her firm but so soft and gentle. Yoongi only broke the kiss for a moment as Kiku caught a deep breath before pressing her lips again. She gripped onto the fabric of his shirt until Yoongi pulled her enough for her to straddle him completely.
Yoongi held her face in his hand, pausing their kiss again to move his lips down to her neck and jawline. Every ache that she felt from her encounter with Haruki melted away at his touch. He pulled at the pins of her hair, letting it fall down the trail of her back. His fingers traced the length of her spine, making her shiver. Tongue grazed over the soft spot on her neck as her hips began to sway against his own.
Yoongi let out a small groan, lifting his head up. His chest heaved in desperation, gripping onto her hair and keeping their foreheads pressed together.
Kiku reached in again but Yoongi kept her in place.
"Are you sure?" Yoongi asked in a rasped voice that made her tremble.
Kiku nodded. "I'm sure." She reached in and kissed him again, deeper and pleading to ensure he knew this was what she wanted.
But a knock on the door startled them.
Yoongi let out a small, frustrated sigh. "What is it?" he asked.
Kiku got off his lap slowly with a clear of her throat, trying to fix her hair as the door opened to a servant.
"Sorry, sire. Your mother needs your audience for something." The servant kept their head bowed as if already knowing the position he could've caught them in.
Yoongi turned and gave Kiku a soft look.
Kiku gave a reassuring smile, patting his arm before he got to his feet and walked away. Leaving her heart pounding manically.
-
Another week passed since their kiss. Yoongi wasn't distant necessarily but it did feel like nothing changed. Kiku wondered perhaps he didn't enjoy it. He was the Chief and had many choices of his own. Kiku was an alliance marriage. Any affection that they developed may have just been a spur of the moment as they lived under the same roof. Despite all the explanations she's made in her head, it still twinged something in Kiku. With the kindness received from Yoongis family, she imagined that something would be wrong. She traded a kinder family for a husband that didn't quite enjoy her affection. She'd take it though.
This morning, the family sat around the table for breakfast. Yoongi gave her a glance here and there but it was still distant. Kiku tried to smile back but he immediately looked away.
"So Kiku has been immensely calm these past few days," Yun said, a smirk playing on her lips. "Ma says it's often a sign of...something on the way." Her eyes flickered down to gesture to her stomach.
Kiku's cheeks burned, stammering. "No, it's not that." She shook her head. "I had my bleeding." She couldn't quite hide the slight disappointment in her tone. Kiku never thought about children especially with the experiences she had with her own family. But something about the silence from Yoongi made grasp at unnecessary desires of children or anything to melt off the ice between them.
Yun hummed, pouting. "That's a shame, I wanted nieces and nephews." She poked at her food, the light breeze making strands of her dark hair dance.
"Don't pressure them," Nari said, her tone serious. "They need to be relaxed when they do it."
"Girls, quiet." Hwayoung narrowed her gaze, letting out a defeated sigh. "Don't listen to them." She smiled. "These things take time."
Yoongi stayed silent and Kiku herself couldn't find anything to say but give a reassuring smile. Even though she worried Yoongi won't come near her a second time.
-
Kiku played her Koto in the afternoon while Yoongi was out supervising the patrol. Usually it would take him till evening to come back. But today he came in early, stomping and breathing out with frustration. A strange sight from someone who was so calm. Raven black hair glistened from sweat, patches of dust latched onto his skin and his jaw terribly tightened as if it might make break his teeth.
Strangely enough, it was relieving to see some emotion in Yoongi after all the distance. Kiku stood from the Koto. "What's wrong?" She asked gently.
"Your damn brother," he seethed. "His men attacked one of my scouts." Yoongi poured water into a goblet and chugged it.
Kiku's heart dropped. "What?"
"Apparently they'd been disturbing the peace. But they didn't plan for me to come." His scar looked deeper and darker when he was angry. "Mother was weary about them for a while but I didn't think they'd stoop to petty little violence."
Kiku lowered her head, almost in shame. Even though she felt more connected to Yoongi's family, her name and identity was still attached to the people she grew up with. It was embarrassing seeing others witness the pettiness that she endured her whole life. The same pettiness that Kaito hated. "I'm sorry," she said.
Yoongi stilled for a moment, dark brows furrowed as he turned to Kiku. "Why're you apologizing?"
Kiku stammered. "It's my family. They're like this, our parents made you all seem like monsters and Haruki would do anything to make himself feel like father would be proud." She shook her head.
"Well, that's their mistake, not yours." Yoongi spoke under her breath but Kiku clung to every word and kept it close to her chest.
She reached out and touched his arm. "Is there anything I can do?"
Yoongi stared at her deeply and so long that Kiku felt like layers of her soul were being peeled. Then he broke the gaze and tried to walk back to their bedroom. "No, it's okay."
Kiku's stomach clenched as once again, the ice began to form. But this time she wasn't going relent quietly. "Yoongi, you don't have to protect my feelings. If this is too much of a burden to you then I can leave."
Yoongi stopped, looking over his shoulder to her. The expression on his face, harsh. "What?"
Kiku dug her nails into her palms to give herself some form of strength. "I can handle my family, I've lived with them my whole life. But...I don't want you to be married to someone you don't truly want."
Yoongi's throat bobbed up and down. "Is that what you think?"
"I don't know," she spoke honestly. "I just know that you became distant after what happened and I—I'm unsure."
Yoongi fully turned his body around, stepping closer. "If you're unsure, then you talk to me."
"I can't speak my wishes so easily." Kiku's voice lowered as he moved closer until she could catch wafts of the forest from him. "It's not something I'm used to."
Yoongi's expression softened. He rubbed in between his brows. "I'm a little too used to my family just saying what they think." He looked up to her. "I'm sorry. I should've checked on you."
Kiki's stomach felt warm. staying silent for a moment just to ensure what she heard was right. Then she spoke in a small voice. "It's okay."
Yoongi took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers together turning her world into a burst of stars. "I will not make you go back to that place again." He muttered. "I want you here."
"You want me here?" She asked again, just to hear him say it so it could echo inside her whenever darker voices grew too loud.
"Right here. With me." Yoongi tightened his hold. "Will you do that?"
Kiku nodded, a burning behind her eyes. "I will, I promise." She smiled, touching his chest to make herself feel grounded again.
"We still need to deal with your stupid brother," Yoongi said. "He's quickly turning into a pest than an ally."
Kiku could spend years imagining Haruki as this invincible monster, similar to when they were children. But this was real now. Haruki wasn't Kaito. He was stupid and petty even when he tried to hurt her. There were a million ways to get rid of people like that. "I might have an idea."
-
As Kiku requested, Yoongi organized a meeting at the border between Onyx and Moon territory. A canopy was erected with a floor table where they all sat together. The edge of dawn painted the mountains and tree in a burnished gold and the scent of morning dew was the only comfort in Kiku's pool of anxiety.
She was prepared for this meeting and the decisions entailed but rarely had she spoken up to Haruki before. When Kiku tried, her mother or father would reprimand and punish her.
Even as Haruki walked to the canopy, she felt a prickle of being scolded in a few minutes. But she had push it down. She wasn't Haruki's sister here, she was a Lady of the Onyx Clan. The Chief's wife.
"This pompous meeting surely isn't about the little scuffle between scouts," Haruki said. "It's a bit of harmless fun."
Yoongi stayed silent.
"You brought your wife here too," Haruki looked Kiku up and down, making sure that he used a moniker disconnected to him.
"In regards to your previous demands, we're suggesting some changes in the alliance." Yoongi kept a calm tone even though Kiku saw the tightened grip of his hands.
Haruki chuckled. "If you don't want her anymore, just kick her out." He waved his hand. "One of your servants can have her."
Yoongi narrowed his gaze but kept his neutral expression. "As you commented on our child before, we had an idea on how to strength the bond between clans."
"And how is that?" he asked.
"Since you require our food supplies which we give to you out of kindness, we have a compromise," Yoongi said. "In exchange for our food, any child born from my wife will take the Chiefs title of the Moon clan."
Haruki's brows furrowed as his chest heaved. His glare turned to Kiku. "You put him up to this, didn't you, you bitch?"
"It was a joint decision," Kiku said, maintaining her calm demeanour. She was used to his insults. She wouldn't let it hurt her again.
"I won't agree to this, it's stupid." Haruki winced.
"Very well," Yoongi said. "Then I suggest you get your defences ready."
"What?"
"Your father must've told you how the Onyx Clan works." Yoongi began to muse and there was something... oddly satisfying about the tone. "My wolves haven't been out for a feed in a while."
"You'd attack your ally?" Haruki asked.
"Attacking my scout and disrespecting the Chiefs wife constitutes that you are breaking every rule in the alliance," Yoongi said and Haruki stayed quiet. "Giving you an alternate compromise is a mercy. I suggest you consider it. My soldiers won't care if you're a spoiled Chief who can't carry a sword properly."
Haruki grimaced, chin quivering in frustration. He looked over at Kiku, as if trying to get ready for another insult but he knew it was too late. Kiku was no longer the target to point insults at. One wrong move and Haruki loses his head along with the Moon Clan. This way they can keep their lives. Haruki was stupid but he was still too scared to die. "Fine. I accept your terms."
Yoongi hummed. "Thank you." He stood up and held onto Kiku's hand, helping her to her feet.
"What would've Kaito said about you turning your back on family?" Haruki asked, cutting into her in a place that ached like a thousand knives.
Kiku paused in place, gripping onto Yoongi's hand like her life depended on it as her heart panged in pain. Haruki knew nothing about what Kaito was like. It took her every strength and hope in her body not to throw scalding tea in his face for even insinuating that Kiku would do something to disappoint Kaito. Because Kaito wasn't like that. Kaito understood and listened. Haruki was a fool. Kiku straightened her posture, turned and looked Haruki straight in the eye. "Kaito wouldn't have caused a food shortage in the clan."
Haruki scoffed, pursing his lips together.
"Kaito did his duty, as I am. From where I'm looking, I'm not the one who made father die from disappointment." Kiku felt like a dam burst inside her as she let the words flow but seeing the Haruki's sour and pouty expression made it all worth it.
-
Kiku was able to breathe easy when they returned to their tent for the night. She walked over to her vanity and her maid immediately began taking pins out of her hair. She watched from the mirror as Yoongi unlatched his sword sheathe of his waist and began to pour himself a drink. The dark furrow of his brows prominent. Kiku raised a hand and smiled at the maid. "A moment, please."
The maid bowed and did as she asked, stepping out of the tent to give them privacy. Kiku took out the rest of the pins so her hair was fully open and relaxed. A dull throb formed on her scalp. She stood and made her way to Yoongi as he leaned forward on the table.
"He can be a lot to tolerate," Kiku said.
Yoongi took in a deep breath to calm himself down. "The way he talks to you, it's like you're complete strangers. Enemies, even."
Kiku swallowed the small lump in her throat. It was always normal to her, seeing the way family treated the one they didn't want with the exception of Kaito. But Yoongi valued family with his life. She could only imagine the kind of shock thrumming through him. "You have a good family. Some don't." She touched his arm. "But sometimes you find a better one."
Yoongi turned his head, his once sharp eyes now softened and sad. "If I've ever made you feel—"
"Not once." Kiku knew it like the breath she took. Yoongi and his family had been nothing but comforting and kind. She reached and pressed her forehead against his. It was almost involuntary but feeling him lean into it was the only answer she needed to keep still.
Yoongi turned his body slowly, letting their chest flush against one another before he leaned and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. His warm hand cupped her cheek softly like she was precious. He pulled away only to press kisses on her cheek and jawline, taking her into an embrace. He buried his face into the crook of her neck where the scent of jasmines wafted in his nose.
Kiku could fall asleep in this embrace. Her body and mind and every bruise in her heart soothed from the loving touch. She traced her fingers across the strands of his hair as if lulling the both of them to dreams. It was difficult to admit it in the past few months with the new changes and confusion. But today for the first time, she could surely say it.
Kiku felt loved.
-
The meeting had left Kiku and Yoongi tired for the evening. They rested their heads, nestled close as they tried to sleep. Tried was an effort Kiku persisted on as the hours went by. It wasn't quite a terrible night of troubling thoughts but an eagerness. She opened her eyes to see Yoongi with his eyes calmly closed, his lips a little puckered.
Kiku took a moment to watch him, reaching out a little to touch his cheek. He stirred slightly at her touch, but his eyes remained closed, his breathing steady and rhythmic. She pulled away with a defeated sigh, not wanting to wake him up. So she turned around and tried to drift off to sleep again.
It was only a few minutes later then she felt Yoongi shift, moving closer until his chest was pressed right against her back. His arm laid over her body, embracing her from behind. Kiku felt a wave of warmth and comfort wash over her as Yoongi tightened his hold.
"Can't sleep?" Yoongi asked.
Kiku hummed. "A little. It's okay, go back to sleep."
"I can be awake," Yoongis voice rasped as his face buried into the crook of her neck again. He began pressing kissing down the length of her shoulder. "Do you want me to be awake?"
Kiku smiled to herself, swaying her hips against him. "A little."
Yoongi chuckled lightly, the vibrations made her quiver in delight. He made Kiku lay on her back, climbing on top of her and sneaking between her legs. "Are you sure?" He whispered.
Kiku nodded. "I'm sure." She smiled against his lips before pressing a kiss on his bottom lip.
Yoongi kissed down the length of her neck, unravelling his night clothes and pushing up Kikus soft dress. He entered her gently, her snug walls hugging his tip before he kept pushing.
Kiku gripped onto his clothing as the sensation made her tremble under him. She swayed her hips with his movements, encouraging him to move faster. The ache was slight but the tingle of pleasure sent her into a slight dizziness. She wrapped her legs around his waist.
Yoongi brushed his fingers across her hairline, full of affection as he moved deeper inside her. He pressed sweet kisses at the corner of her lips.
Kiku smiled feverishly as the pleasure sent heat through her body, radiating like steam and intoxication.
Yoongi made sure he was slow, not just to be careful but to draw out this intimacy for as long as he could. The feeling of embrace brought back every slight desire he had in the past few months to hold or touch her. "Feel good?"
Kiku nodded, letting out a slight whimper as he continued to move at that tantalizing pace. "Good." She traced her thumb across his cheek. Strands of his hair falling over his face, curtaining over hers. Her core became slick with arousal, creating light squelch sounds as he thrusted into her with a new desperation.
His release clouded him, flooding him with an unbearable warmth until he grind himself into her. He muffled his moan against her neck.
Kiku felt his lower belly press on her sensitive spot, making her clench around him, pushing him further into his climax.
Yoongi lifted himself up, foreheads layered with sweat as they pressed against each other.
Kiku took his lips into a kiss, surging him to thrust into a steady pattern that made her lose breath. She gripped onto the side of his neck as moans broke through any form of whisper.
Yoongi quickened his pace following the pattern of her moans and the rolling of his own release. Then the sweet burst into a ricochet of pleasure and heat.
Kiku smiled, breathless as she relished in the warmth filling her. As Yoongi kept moving, he snuck his head in between her legs, targeting her sensitive spot and pushing her to the edge. Kiku's brows furrowed, aching to reach her own climax as she was full of him. Her breathing turned to quickened whimpers as she squirmed under his touch. Her back arched, head thrown back giving Yoongi the chance to kiss her neck and jawline.
Her climax bloomed, the heat of it shaking her limbs and forcing her legs to shut around him. Yoongi kissed her forehead, still rubbing on that spot until she twitched against it.
Kiku whimpered, pushing his hand away. A small laugh left his lips fuelling her with more delight. It was the most wonderful feeling she had to be embraced like this so warmly and the bliss of pleasure melting her body until she was meshed with the bed itself.
"You feel sleepier now?" Yoongi watched her with his own half-lidded, blissed eyes.
Kiku smiled as her breathing turned slow and calm. "Mhm." She traced her fingers down his cheek. "I think I've officially become your wife."
"Oh?" Yoongi's brow raised. "You weren't before?"
Kiku chuckled, slapping his chest playfully. "I mean we don't have anything to hide anymore."
Yoongi caged her in with his arms, making her feel safe and secure. "No, we don't."
Kiku blinked slowly, her finger moved gently to his scar. "Like this?"
Yoongi's expression softened into a mix of ruminating vulnerability and an old sadness that had been repeatedly reminisced. He lay down next to her, shoulders pressed flush. "My father and I go on small trips every now and then. He used to do it with every child, just to. . .talk, connect with nature and spend time." He waved his hand. "It was strange for Chiefs to do it but he said it was because he never got to speak to his own father. So, he wanted to make sure we weren't. . .without one." He let out a long breath.
"He sounds like a good father," Kiku said.
"He was." Yoongi's dark eyes melted and glossed from emotion. "One day though, bandits were prowling in the place my father and I camped. They attacked us. I got this from one of the bandits." He pointed to the scar. "Before my father told me to run while he fended them off. I called my mother and some guards to help but we were too late."
Kiku shifted and rubbed his chest. "Is that why you train so much?"
Yoongi nodded. "I want to make sure Yeong and the girls know how to defend themselves or others should the need arise." He took a deep breath, playing with Kiku's hair. "But I had a good family. We took care of each other, just like we'll take care of you."
Kiku smiled, resting her chin on his chest. "I'll take care of you all too. I still owe you a massage."
"You gave me a pretty good one a minute ago." Yoongi smirked.
Kiku chuckled. "A proper massage."
-
Kiku and Yoongi returned to the main houses early in the morning as the soft gold of dawn painted the forest. Hwayoung had lunch prepared with the rest of the family to welcome them home. Fresh steamed fish with tofu, rice porridge and some fresh fruits newly picked from the farms. Kiku ate happily, her appetite had grown in the months she was with this family but it made her all the more energetic and vibrant along with her excitement from the past night's events.
Something the family noticed more than Kiku realised.
Yun, in particular, stared the two of them a little too closely with a smirk. "So how was the trip, brother?" She asked in a sing-song voice.
Yoongi's eyes flickered up as he paused mid-bite. "As most political talks go with a spoiled brat of a Chief. He gave into the deal quickly," he spoke in a slightly formal tone.
Kiku quietly sipped on the last drops of her tea before he gently poured her another cup. She gave him a shy smile.
"I haven't heard much about the prospects of the Chiefs of the Moon clan but the younger son is usually unprepared," Hwayoung said thankfully to distract from what Yun actually wanted to ask.
Yeong stammered just as he took a bite of his food, looking at Hwayoung with a pout. "What'd I do?"
Hwayoung raised her hand. "I mean, generally. Not you."
Yoongi let out a small chuckle under his breath. "She means you."
Yeong sighed, pointing at him with his chopsticks. "I've beaten you in sword training before, I'll do it again."
"Did you do anything else in the trip?" Yun asked, with a wide grin, leaning forward in excitement. "You were both alone for the night. And Kiku's been. . .glowing."
Kiku's cheeks burned, clearing her throat. "I—I don't—"
"You need to stop obsessing over your brother's marriage, sweetheart, it's getting strange." Hwayoung patted the back of Yun's hand.
"It's only because you don't let me get married." Yun leaned back on her chair, folding her arms over her chest.
"Mother's protecting the men of the clan," Nari said, raising a brow.
Yun slapped Nari's arm as Yeong snorted.
"See how they bully me?" Yun asked Kiku.
Kiku chuckled, biting down her bottom lip and glancing at Yoongi. Often when she had terrible encounters with Haruki, she would get scolded by her family and live with the suffocating feeling of frustration in her chest.
Today was the first time, Kiku could cling to the happy moments and forget about Haruki or any of this harsh words. Her family threw her to the Onyx clan like a bait at the end of a fishing line but in their hatred for her, Kiku found love for her own. 
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sailoryooons · 6 months
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hali my love, for your halloween drabbles, i am in NEED of a grumpy vampire boyfriend yoongi who’s mean to everyone but u (it’s my fav trope ever, i’m a basic bitch lmfaoooo) 😭🙏 maybe add some fluff and smut ? do whatever u desire with it babe, just know i love u so so much !! 💌🦋
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❀ Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x f. reader
❀ Summary: Yoongi is none too pleased about the movie that Seokjin has selected for the weekly movie night. You know just how to cheer him up. 
❀ Word Count: 2,459
❀ Genre: Supernatural, Establish Relationship, Fluff, 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: Seokjin & Co. are making Yoongi’s life hell in the kitchen, mild teasing/ganging up on Yoongi as the vampire, general chaos, gruff Yoongi, explicit language, explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, blood drinking and biting, sort of voyeurism because people are in the next room over, Yoongi is a little needy, depictions of blood, brief cum eating, and this is largely unedited besides spell check. 
❀ Published: October 14, 2023
❀ A/N: MARI MARI MARI! My love I have been waiting to do this request all week. I am literally so down bad for Yoongi who is a little cranky and yelling at everyone, only to turn to an absolute puddle who just wants to bite his baby’s neck when she walks in and kicks everyone out and  yells at them for being mean to him. This was the perfect request ever - I love you so much and thank you thank you thank you! I hope you enjoy our boyfriend. 
❀ 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 | Haliween Requests |
“Can I have some-”
“No,” Yoongi tuts, cracking the top of Seokjin’s knuckles with the wooden spoon in his hand. Seokjin howls and yanks his hand away, skin reddening under the quick assault of Yoongi’s reflexes. “You can have it when it’s ready.”
“I’m the host!”
Yoongi looks around the spacious kitchen where his friends are carrying on. Taehyung is wrestling Jimin over the Bluetooth speaker while Hoseok swings his legs back and forth from where he sits on the counter, delighted as he flips through songs to orchestrate their fight. Jungkook giggles with his phone out, filming the bickering pair while Namjoon stands in the doorway, trying to decide if he wants to break them up or risk walking by them with the two bottles of wine in his hand.
Namjoon risks the wine and regrets it. Taehyung bumps into Namjoon immediately, causing the bottles to slip from his hand and shatter on the ground. Hoseok yells in fright and Yoongi’s hand grips the wooden spoon hard enough that it immediately splinters in his hand. 
Seokjin immediately begins yelling and throwing his hand in the air, Taehyung starts accusing Jimin of pushing him into Namjoon on purpose, and Jungkook frantically opens and closes cabinets and drawers to look for towels. 
Each sound of the chaos grates against Yoongi’s sensitive hearing. The smell of sweat on their skin, the pumping adrenaline and fright from Hoseok’s momentarily startle. It becomes too much and he feels the instinct to lash out curl up inside of him like a whip.
“Everyone out!” Yoongi hisses, hackles rising. 
The sound of his voice cuts through the kitchen, stopping everyone in silence. Six pairs of eyes turn to look at where he stands at the stove, steam hitting his face. His gums ache where his fangs threaten to slip through, a sign of his irritation. 
“But I’m the host!” Seokjin protests again.
Yoongi points the now-ruined spoon at him. “You, are doing fuck all as host.”
“You told me you’d cook!”
“I always cook!”
“Well, you’re the best at it! You’ve been doing it for like three hundred years!”
Yoongi hears you before he sees you. Immediately he picks up the shutting of the car door, the additional heartbeat as you walk up the drive. Even from the kitchen with the wine and the smell of his friends and the cooking food, Yoongi can smell your lavender scent from where he stands.
Immediately tension bleeds out of him. You let yourself into the house and find them in the kitchen, calling out for them as you step in and freeze, scanning the room. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ at the chaos and he watches you as your eyes drag to his, taking in the ruined cooking utensil, the wine of the floor, and his twitching lip. 
You clap your hands together then. “Everyone out!” you order. “Out, out, out!”
Unlike when Yoongi orders everyone to do something, they all listen to you. Hoseok scrambles off the counter and bolts toward the living room, hot on Jimin and Taehyung’s heels who both give you sheepish laughs. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and spins on his heel to leave, Seokjin and Jungkook on his trail. 
Once they’re gone, it’s just you and Yoongi in the kitchen, pasta nearly boiling over. You point to the pot, brows raised. “You focus on that, I’ll clean all this, okay?”
Fuck Yoongi loves you. Something as simple as giving directions and just addressing the mess with a plane soothes his irritated nerves. He nods, not taking his eyes off of you as he continues the meal. Yoongi is good at multi-tasking, and his favorite thing is to watch you even when you’re not looking. 
Just being in the same room as you brings him peace. Hundreds of years of existence, and Yoongi has never known balance like this. Has never found someone who steadies his too-loud world, who brings him the silence that he needs.
Until you. 
Even though Yoongi can hear the boys being rowdy in the living room, it’s silent in the kitchen. You begin sweeping glass, oh so careful not to cut your fingers, and put Yoongi on edge. He’s not worried - you’ve always taken extra steps to avoid bloodletting around him and unlike Namjoon, you’re good at it. 
Yoongi wants you to come over to him. He chews on his lip as he works on sauce for the pasta. His eyes dart to you often, fingers flexing as if to reach out and beckon you over to him. You’ve only been in the house for ten minutes, but he wants to feel your warm skin beneath his fingertips. The heat of you is just a moment away. 
When you finish, you come around the counter to greet him properly. His heart skips in his chest - for it does still beat - and Yoongi feels his mouth twitch upward and his edges soften out as you lean up to him, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. 
Your mouth is warm against his, lips soft. He sighs and melts into you, pressing his mouth against yours a little harder. He feels you smile against him before you nibble his bottom lip and pull away, looking up at him. “How’s it going?” 
“Hm.”
You snake an arm around his waist and pull your hips flush together. He likes the closeness, the way your skin makes his buzz. His nose fills with the scent of lavender and the undercurrent of your blood, a smell so uniquely you that he could never forget it. 
“Can I taste,” you as, pointing to the steaming veggies. Yoongi nods, finding a fork and stabbing a seasoned green bean from the pan. He offers it to you. He watches, hypnotized as your mouth works over it. You hum, brightening. “Ugh, unreal.” 
He leans forward and steals a kiss, taking you by surprise. He licks into your mouth, tongue tasting the butter and salt, the sweetest of your lips. When he pulls away, you’re giving him a cursory glance. “Needy, huh?”
He feels himself flush. “Maybe.” 
Your fingers squeeze his hips, making his heart flip. 
“Why does she get to taste?” Seokjin’s voice shatters the moment. Yoongi looks over your head and bares his fangs, his eyes flashing from black to crimson, muscles rippling. Seokjin squeals and runs out of the kitchen, screaming. “He is hissing at me!”
Slowly, Yoongi’s fangs recede. He feels the feral instinct to tear out Seokjin’s throat recede, and looks down at you, where you watch him with mild amusement, arm still snug around his hips.
“They’re annoying me,” Yoongi says, as if to answer the silent question. “He picked Dracula to watch tonight.”
You arch a brow. “Is that so?” Yoongi pouts. You press a kiss to his shoulder and pat his waist. “Finish up in here and I’ll make sure they’re all set out there.”
Hunger rolls through him, uncontrolled. He feels it swift, a dam breaking. He watches you wipe your hands on your jeans and walk toward the living room, his eyes pinned to the empty door as you vanish. He hears you when you raise your voice, immediately laying into Seokjin. 
Yoongi smirks and looks back down as he starts turning off the stove. Listening to you lay into Seokjin for his funny little joke for movie night makes Yoongi preen, lifting his chin a little as Seokjin whines and throws himself on the couch, letting you lash him. 
By the time Yoongi is calling everyone to make a plate, Seokjin comes in with his ears red and eyes on the floor. You return to the kitchen, nonplussed and pointing to the back of the line forming to plate food. Seokjin grumbles about him being the host again but listens. 
Yoongi leans against the counter, throwing a rag over his shoulder. You make yourself a plate and set it aside before going over to the bottles of wine, pouring two glasses before coming over to him and handing him one. He thanks you quietly taking a sip. 
As everyone filters back out into the living room to start the movie. Yoongi pushes off the counter to join them. You catch his wrist, signaling him to stay back. Once alone, you pull him toward you, making him cage you in against the counter. 
“Hungry?” you ask, gaze darkening. His stomach flips and he nods, looking down his nose at you. You tilt your neck to the side. “Want?”
He shakes his head. “You should eat and watch the movie first.”
“You’re a little on edge. Maybe a snack first?” Yoongi goes back and forth on it. He feels his gums ache, feels the burn set into his throat. His eyes drift to the soft spot on your neck where your pulse beats, his favorite song. “Come on, baby,” you coo. “Just small bites.”
That voice. That voice. Yoongi feels his knees weaken. He leans further into you and you slide your hands around his waist, pulling him flush against you. His cock twitches and he groans, lids fluttering as you lean your head back, baring your neck for him.
Fuck fuck fuck. 
Slowly, Yoongi lowers his face to your throat. He brushes his nose along the slender slope of your neck, inhaling. A shiver ripples through him and he feels the pinch of his fangs slide through. Your pulse quickens and he smells the change in you - feels the way your thighs press together. 
He salivates. He can’t help it, his mouth pooling slowly with water as he brushes his open lips against your warm skin in the ghost of a kiss. Your breathing is faint and fluttering, your heart hammering in your chest. You’re not afraid, though. He’d be able to tell.
You’re excited and turned on, your fingers twisting in Yoongi’s shirt as his tongue slips gently between his fangs to taste your skin. You suck in a sharp breath and he whines a little, so in tune with your sounds. Every sound. 
So, so carefully, Yoongi scraps his fangs against your skin and presses his tongue against your beating pulse, right where he wants to bite. He gives in, slowly sinking his teeth into tender flesh, his mouth filling with sweet nectar immediately. 
The reaction is immediate. His eyes roll back into his head and he grinds against you, seeking friction as his mouth suckles gently, pulling warm fluid into his mouth. You’re lax in his arms, letting the endorphins of the bite wash over you. 
Yoongi can smell what it does to you, one of his hands dropping from holding your side to pressing between your legs, rubbing you through your jeans. Your head knocks loudly against the counter, making him open his eyes and look up at you through his lashes, mouth still attached to your throat. 
Eyes shut, mouth open, you sag against the counter. He can see every flicker of your eyes behind your lids, drifting in his bite. In him. Yoongi’s tongue presses over the wound, staying there as he swallows his last fill. He’s more interested in the way he works to open your jeans, now, uncaring that they’ve started the movie in the living room. 
Yoongi is intimately focused on your reactions as he pulls down your zipper. You press your cunt toward him, asking. Seeking. Wanting. So quickly this has turned into more than small bites, and Yoongi doesn’t care. He’ll give you whatever you want, and he can sense the vibration in you, his predator senses tuned in to your desire. 
Your folds are damp as he slides his fingers in, seeking your heat. The fit is tight in your jeans but you lean back for him, pulling them down a little, giving Yoongi access to pull your panties to the side and slide the pads of his fingers up and down your slit.
“Oh,” you sigh, nails digging into his hips. “Please,” you ask. “Please please please, Yoongi.”
He gives in, sliding a finger down the wet, hot seam of you and pressing in. Your walls clutch around him, sucking him in as he moans against your throat. His tongue laps back and forth over the wound on your neck, not drinking more but healing the skin, tasting your sweat. 
“Just like that, baby,” you encourage. You roll your hips into his hand, grinding your swollen clit against his palm. He’s fully hard now, cock throbbing as he works his fingers into your cunt, the wet sound muted by the loud moving blaring in the living room. “Fuck. Do you want more?”
Yoongi shakes his head and hides his face between your neck and shoulder, panting as he works you. You squeeze around him wetly, your entire body shaking against him. He can tell your close, the very fibers stitching you together shaking loose as he angles his fingers, pressing against that soft spot inside of you.
He will never get tired of this. The way you walk into his life when he’s having a less-than-ideal day and put everything right again. How you pick up the pieces and put them where they need to be, how you chastise his friends when they want to pick on his vampirism, and how you just give him what he wants but won’t ask for. 
So ready to give in to him. 
When you come around his fingers, Yoongi makes a needy sound at the back of his throat. He loves the way you squeeze him, the way you go silent and soft. Sagging against the counter. He sucks at your neck - not for blood, but for the intimacy. Just the taste of your skin. 
Slowly, you peel apart. Yoongi pulls his hands from your jeans, watching you open your eyes as he grins - perhaps the first real smile all day - and pops them into his mouth. He moans around them, the taste of you sticky on his tongue, making him ripple in pleasure again. 
When he retracts his fingers, you surge forward, giving him a single, wet kiss, tasting back. 
“Better?” you ask gently, kissing the corner of his mouth. His chin. His nose. He nods his head. “Do you need me to -”
He shakes his head, feeling your hand move toward his cock. “Just need ten.” 
“You sure?” 
“Mhmm.” He leans forward, licking a soft stripe up your neck. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Knowing what I need. Being a momentary lapse of peace in a world that is sometimes too loud. For giving me what I need.” 
Your grin is blinding. “I love you.” 
“You too.” His kiss against your neck is soft and sweet. “And that was much more than just small bites.” 
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jeonqkooks · 1 month
Note
to the loml, my beloved, may i play in the event game? hehe ;u; i would like your take on yoongi + "did i say that out loud?" + "stop looking at me like that!" ♡
i love you and congratulations again, jen oi ♡ muah~
sunlit sunday. (myg)
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pairing: yoongi x reader prompts: "did i say that out loud?" + "stop looking at me like that!" genre/warnings: best friends to lovers (?), college au, fluff; mentions of drinking, barely edited word count: 1.1k note: i do not know what this is, nor why it took me over half a year to finish this drabble. cee my love you sent this ask in august 2022 and it took me literally forever to post i'm sorry 😭
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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The sun is already rising, but poor Yoongi hasn’t slept a wink. Partly because he can’t feel his left arm from where it’s being used as your makeshift pillow, partly because last night you told him you were in love with him and proceeded to pass the fuck out.
There was a party - there’s always a party every weekend when you’re in college - that Yoongi didn’t even want to go to. He just wanted to spend his Saturday night holed up in his apartment with you, pizzas and a movie. It gives him something to look forward to at the end of every week, partly because he's nothing if not a creature of habit, but mostly because he gets to spend time with you alone.
But tonight, you wanted to attend, and it didn’t take a whole lot of convincing for Yoongi to (begrudgingly) accompany you to a frat house on campus to spruce up your weekly routine. He would always complain, but you both know that he’d do anything you ask.
That's why he didn't really have anybody else to blame when he found himself having to tuck a very intoxicated you into an unfamiliar bed at 2:30AM in this greasy frat house. It wasn't exactly the best idea, but it was the only one he had. Yoongi wasn't exactly sober, and you were too drunk for him to haul you home.
You babbled nonsense the whole time he was peeling off your shoes and outer layers so you could sleep more comfortably. It was difficult - you're a squirmy drunk - but he managed in the end. When it comes to you, Yoongi has had years of experience, having known you from your early high school days together and being inseparable ever since.
He had gotten under the covers with you, about to try and coax you to sleep when you sighed dreamily at the ceiling, looking so content with whatever thoughts in your head that it felt like you could float away.
"I'm in love with Yoongi," you said, so softly that Yoongi wasn't sure if he heard you right. But even in the midst of tipsy uncertainty, his heart went berserk like it was going to run away from his body. Then you popped the ringing bubble in his head with a sharp giggle, uncaring, so oblivious. "Stop looking at me like that! Did I say that out loud?"
He didn't know what to say, even though it didn't really matter anyway. You weren't in a state of mind to comprehend everything he wanted to ask, everything he wanted to say to you. Yoongi kept his eyes on you while you kept yours on the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
"You did," he muttered, averting his eyes, and you tittered again.
"Don't tell him." You turned to look at him with a finger pressed against your lips. He wasn't sure who you thought you were talking to but he didn't correct you; there was no point in doing so anyway. "It's supposed to be a secret."
He doesn't remember what he said next, if he even said anything at all. Though it doesn't matter because you promptly passed out afterward, and it's unlikely that you'll remember any of it when you wake up.
Everything from then until now is just a jumbled mess to Yoongi, his thoughts full of what the fuck's and his chest full of borderline painful palpitations every time you snuggle further into his warmth, seeking comfort in your sleep.
The thing is, he knows that you were being honest. You meant it, because you're nothing if not an honest drunk; you've disclosed your fair share of embarrassing secrets whilst under the influence before. But never would Yoongi expect to hear those very specific words coming from your mouth, words that reflect the same sentiment that he's been trying to profess to you for years now.
They rolled off your tongue, just like that.
If he's being honest, it wounds him a little bit. He's spent hundreds and hundreds of days thinking about the perfect way to phrase his affection for you and yet, you managed to spill your feelings out without a single care in the world.
Granted, you were drunk out of your mind, but still.
Eventually, you stir from your slumber when blinding sunlight slips through the cracks between the curtains. Yoongi watches you frown before your eyes are even open, then you try to stretch for a brief moment as you look around the strange bedroom, partly alarmed, partly confused.
When your gaze finally lands on him, he catches the way your eyes soften, the edges of your confusion melting away even though he doubts that the sight of him answered any of the questions in your head.
"Morning," you say, your voice heavy with sleep.
"Morning," Yoongi replies quietly.
You share a look, one that means completely different things for the both of you. You're probably hungover, and Yoongi is in love.
So in love that he doesn't even care to berate you for making him spend the night in a random bedroom in a disgusting frat house, where a pair of (likely dirty) boxers is casually chilling draped over a chair. So in love that it expels all sense of fatigue from his body until the only thing coursing through his veins is unfiltered fondness for you and the way your eyes crinkle when you smile.
So in love that he would wait until you're awake enough to ask him to walk you home, ask him to make you your favorite hangover breakfast while you take a long, hot shower to feel like a human being again. He'd wait until you're fed and caffeinated before joining you on the couch, prepared to kill the remaining hours of the day together. So in love that he'd only wait until that moment to tell you the things he's always wanted to say, the things that have always been on the tip of his tongue but he's never been brave enough to utter them to you.
He'd tell you what you need to hear, albeit with a bruised ego that you beat him to the punch but he'd pretend that you didn't. It's a secret shared between only Yoongi and the four walls of this bedroom.
He's so in love that he would endure staying up all night in this dump when he could've been in his own bed, comfortable and clean and cozy. But it's okay because it's Sunday and the sun is out, and you were the one sleeping peacefully next to him, despite how your head made his arm go numb. It's okay because love has a tendency to make awful things feel better, even if love is only stored in a set of sleepy eyes staring at Yoongi and a whiny voice asking to go home.
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all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 10.03.2024]
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darkelixirr · 2 months
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Just a Little bit Older. - Min Yoongi & Kim Namjoon
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Maybe I need some older...
♡pairing: dancer!namjoon x reader, dancer!yoongi x reader ♡rating: explicit!mature 18+ ♡genre: SMUT ♡wc: 1.8k
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You couldn't help but stare at them whenever they were around. The sweat dripping down their slightly tan skin. The up and down heaving of their chest from all the dancing. You just couldn't bare to tear your eyes away from them.
"Princess can you get me some water? Please." You nodded your head quickly, walking over to the mini fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.
You walked back over to them, handing Namjoon the water. You didn't know if he did it on purpose. You didn't know if he felt it but you felt it. The tips of his fingers brushing against your hand, the electric feeling flowing through your body from the mere touch.
You knew it was wrong. To drool and dream over men you couldn't have. To touch yourself to the thought of them completely wrecking you. You wanted it.. No. You needed it. Your thighs clenched whenever they were around. Every time you heard their names, voices, hell even their footsteps.
They were like a drug and they didn't even know it. You walked back over to your seat, pressing your legs together to give yourself just the little bit of relief. Yoongi walked over to you, his shirt raised since he was using it to wipe his face.
Your eyes widen. You just wanted a little touch, to feel how his stomach flexed under your finger tips.
"Can you tie my hair up for me?" He panted lightly, taking deep breaths through his nose. You nodded your head. Taking a rubber band from your wrist and standing up. He leaned down, his hands placed on your waist and you couldn't help the breath you took.
You tied his hair back, patting his shoulder once you were finished. He gave you his gummy smile, squeezing your hip gently.
"Thank you." He gave you a wink before going back over to Namjoon and Hoseok.
You let out a deep sigh, falling back into your seat. You leaned your head back, rubbing your hands down your face.
If only you were a bit older…
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aaagustd · 2 months
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maid for you | min yoongi
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title: maid for you
pairing: painter/vamp!yoongi x maid/vamp!(f)reader
genre/rating: smut, supernatural, 18+
summary: you can’t deny it; you’re f*cked. 
wc: 1.6k
warnings: mentions bl**d and m*rder, bl**d consumption, pet names, f*ngering, squ*rting, teasing, begging, swearing, errors maybe because i didn't look over this, let me know if i missed something
release date: march 10th, 2024; 12:09am est
note: so i was watching death’s game and got a little inspired lol. i’ve been trying to dabble in writing vampire fics so this might be a little cringe. anyway happy birthday to the loml. i’m still writing like 3 other fics for him this month, but until then… you all enjoy. divider by cafekitune.
my masterlist | join my taglist | read on ao3 | inbox
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“Son of a bitch.”
You nearly slip and fall right on your ass when you enter the studio. Once again, he’s brought home some innocent sack of flesh and carved them into a masterpiece. 
The fear still lingers in the scent of the scarlet liquid smeared across the floor. You push your own impulses to the back of your mind as you begin to clean up Yoongi’s mess like the “loyal” servant you are.
Not like you have a choice; it’s either this—or death.
Unlike the other creatures who have survived for eons in this world, your thirst for human blood has never been fulfilled. Though it calls your name as you drag the heavy mop across the porcelain tile, you can’t imagine indulging when you’re surrounded by humans everyday outside of this place.
You still have to live the life of someone who isn’t a freak. You aren’t some legacy put here to extend bloodlines. You’re just the product of a drunken night between strangers whose life should have ended in your twenties.
You’re just the one who didn’t die.
Every second you spend in this room makes you want to leave and never come back, but you know it is impossible. You made a deal with the devil for your life; there is no backing out.
After an hour or so, the room is spotless again. 
As you’re cleaning the last section of the floor, you notice some of Yoongi’s artwork on the wall. Your face contorts into a grimace, knowing that there are people out there purchasing these. Somebody’s family member’s bodily fluids is splashed onto a canvas and is hanging on display in some billionaire’s home. It makes you angry knowing that it should have been you. 
“Fucking asshole… I’m not cleaning this shit up anymore—Oh!”
You bump into something hard while you’re walking backwards. Thinking you’ve hit a wall, you don’t expect to see anyone when you turn around. 
“Oh, you aren’t?”
Yoongi just stands there, watching you scramble for words.
“I-I didn’t know you were here. I…That was—”
“Save it,” he interrupts.
Once you are silenced, you lower your head. You feel a bit of shame burning in your cheeks, but it’s the least of your worries if he heard everything you’ve been saying while you thought you were alone.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to snap your neck if I felt like it.”
Shit. What the hell were you thinking? 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean any of that.”
“Don’t lie,” he snaps. 
He takes a step forward, and you take one back. You try to keep a safe distance between you as if you have a chance to escape. He’d catch you before you could leave the room.
“You’re an ungrateful little bitch, you know that?”
Unfortunately, you don’t know the room as well as you thought you did because your lower back hits a table, leaving you with nowhere else to go.
“I was just venting. Tell me you aren’t that old!”
He approaches you with his arms folded, leaving only a few inches to spare. 
“Baby, you won’t live to see this age,” he boasts. “You don’t even feed yourself properly.”
“Who cares?”
He dips his fingers in a tiny drop of blood next to his tools. You scold yourself for missing something in plain sight, but you have to admit that your mind has been a little fuzzy lately.
“I used to care… But since you don't, why should I?”
You turn away when he tries to touch you with his crimson painted fingertip. The smell makes your nostrils flare, but you continue to fight the temptation. When you don’t accept his bloody digit, he places it on his tongue and savors the salty liquid coating his skin.
“Fuck you.”
“Point proven,” he concludes.
You still won’t look at him, but that doesn’t stop Yoongi from staring directly at you, observing reactions. “If you hate it so bad, why don’t you just end it?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
The couple of inches that stood between you are now gone as he steps closer. He’s so close that you’re afraid he’ll hear your thoughts if you aren’t careful. 
“What are you afraid of?... Going to hell?”
You scoff. “This is hell.”
Suddenly, he grabs your face, forcing you to look into his dark orbs. You remember them being just as hypnotizing when you met him; if only you’d known them what you know now. You would have ran in the opposite direction.
“But you love it here. Don’t you?”
You aren’t sure if your body craves his attention, or if you’re just desperate to feel something—anything to feel the emptiness inside of you.
“I do,” you utter. “Why can’t I hate you?”
Yoongi leans in, his soft lips gently grazing yours to see if you’ll flinch. You don’t move an inch, and his smirk begins to spread across his face.
“Because you want me just as bad as I want you.”
You’re still within his grasp, but too drunk with what seems like lust to pull away. You don’t want to. Every part of you wants to be his; only he understands the type of hunger you’re experiencing.
He’s the only one who’s capable of satisfying your appetite. 
“All you have to do is admit it.”
His cold touch makes you weak in your knees. You have to grip his biceps when you suddenly lose your balance, and with quickness he releases his hold and wraps an arm around your waist.
“I’m waiting,” he reminds you, and you don’t hesitate to give him your response.
“Please, just touch me.”
When you kiss him, he’s the one who melts in your arms. You hold him tightly as both of you stand there kissing and tugging at each other’s clothes. Your lips smack as they crash together, causing a sound that resonates through the room. 
You feel Yoongi’s cold hand move underneath your dress, slowly making its way to your underwear. A moan escapes your swollen lips when he finds your center, exposing your eagerness to feel him inside of you.
“Damn,” he whispers, discovering that you’re already dripping. 
His fingers tease your entrance, making you squirm with need. You beg him for more, and he doesn’t deny you.
“Please.”
“I got you,” he assures.
Your body shudders as two of his digits slip into your pussy. You can barely hold yourself because the intrusion is so overwhelming.
“Fuck, Yoongi.”
“Good?”
“Mhm.”
His thumb caresses your throbbing clit, causing more of your wetness to drip down your thighs. Your hips move in a circular motion, silently begging Yoongi for more.
It is then that he slowly begins to fuck you with his fingers, burying them up to the knuckles in your heat. You grip the table as he speeds up, knowing it won’t take much to get you off. 
Yoongi attacks your neck with his fangs; biting gently into your flesh and moaning from the taste of you.
“Feels so good,” you pant into his ear.
He curves his fingers while they’re deep inside your core, and targets your most sensitive areas. The pads of his digits rub against the rough patch of your walls with precision, and within seconds your juices are gushing everywhere.
“Shit, I’m going to cum…”
You cry out in pleasure, holding onto Yoongi with all your might as your body trembles and shakes. 
Yoongi keeps going, admiring the waterfall flowing from underneath your dress. Your eyes roll back, drool forming at the corners of your lips as you babble and whine from sensitivity. 
“Look who’s making a mess now,” Yoongi teases.
You can’t even feel embarrassed because your body is still coming down from its peak. You’re weak, too spent to defend yourself. You aren’t even sure what you’d say. What could you say?
There’s a puddle where you stand.
When Yoongi finally removes his fingers, he leaves you empty and still wanting more. Your head rests on his chest as you regain your strength.
“I didn’t kill you, did I?”
You laugh. “No.”
After the high wears off, you’re left drowning in your thoughts. They’re all over the place, but you’re certain about one thing. You’re far from satisfied, but you aren’t sure what it is that you want.
“I guess you’re leaving now,” Yoongi says, breaking the silence.
You clear your throat, thinking before you speak so your answer isn’t driven by lust. You know once you step into this world, there’s no going back. The only question on your mind is, what’s really waiting for you outside of here?
“I don’t have to.”
“Hm, is that right?”
Yoongi pulls away so he can look into your restless eyes. He can probably see the internal war going on inside of you from where he stands. You’re long past what’s right and what’s wrong. It makes no sense to keep denying the truth when it’s right in your face.
“This is driving me crazy.”
“Oh, really?” he quizzes. “...Or maybe you can’t get enough of me now?”
“A little bit of both, honestly.”
“I just don’t want you to think you don’t have any options.”
You nod. “You think I’m afraid of you?”
“Are you?”
“A little, but I’m still curious,” you answer truthfully. “What’s the worst that can happen? You turn me into a painting?”
“I might.”
You smirk. “That’s hot.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet, sweetheart. We should go for a ride.”
“I’d like that.”
The look he gives you could undress a nun. Hell, you struggle to keep your panties on after he winks. You smile as he kisses your forehead and your cheek before he whispers in your ear.
“Good. Now clean up my fucking floor, and meet me downstairs.”
381 notes · View notes
dreamescapeswriting · 1 month
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Contracted Love ~ MYG
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WORD COUNT: 7.1K
GENRE: CEO AU, marriage contracts, blackmailing, fake dating, fake marriage, falling love and realising you’re scared, (might actually be my fav piece)
PAIRING: Yoongi X Fem!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
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As Yoongi began to walk through the bustling heart of the city he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back from the meeting he had just left and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry at what had happened.
It had been his grandfather's will reading, something that heartbreaking in and of itself but what was getting to Yoongi more was the stipulation that came along with his portion of the will. 
"It is not my wish for you to end up like me, old, alone and afraid of love."
Was that the piece of paper read, his grandfather was giving him strict orders to follow if he had any chance of getting his grandfather's portion of the company he owned and he needed it.
There was no way it could go to his father's side of the family, the vultures as his grandfather called them. They only hung around him long enough to know that they were going to be put into the will and didn't want to know his grandfather any other time. But it was all stupid. In order to collect his portion he had to be married and have a child all within a year.
A man who had hardly dated before was supposed to married and have a child within twelve months if he wanted any chance of keeping his company alive. Now Yoongi could have sworn he heard the ticking of a clock in the back of his mind as a constant reminder that he hadn't got much time.
"Please, I promise I can get it for you by the end of the week if you just give me some more time!" A voice pleaded, interrupting his thoughts and making him freeze on the sidewalk wondering what was unfolding in front of him.
"I've heard this a million times, Yn, I'm sick of hearing it." A male said, angrily staring down at you as you whimpered a little. He was your landlord Richard and he had just served you with an eviction notice for your business.
"Pages & Aromoa's will be a hit in no time and you'll have all the money I owe you." You sniffled but Richard handed you the piece of red paper and walked away, ignoring your begging and driving off.
"Fucking cunt," You hissed before heading inside of the door.
Yoongi stared up at the cafe sign it was basically falling apart but it was easily readable. The brick walls of the cafe had patches of Ivy clinging to the surface as if trying to breathe life into the ageing structure. The windows were slightly grim but offered a glimpse into the warmth inside that awaited anyone walking by. 
The cafe was nestled between two giant skyscrapers, one of which belonged to Yoongi but he'd never even noticed the cafe before. Sighing to himself he wondered if this was the cafe his grandfather had been boasting about before he had died and he found himself walking inside. The bell above the door sounded as he did so but you were nowhere to be seen.
"I'll be just a minute," Your voice called out. Despite the outside appearance of the building, Yoongi was pleasantly surprised when he walked inside. The interior was a sanctuary of tranquillity and refinement. Polished hardwood floors gleamed under the soft glow of vintage bulbs that were casting a warm ambience in the cafe. The perfect place to hide away and work or even read which was something that clearly happened here.
There were shelves lining the walls, stretched from floor to ceiling, the books all looked used and loved. Plush armchairs and cosy reading nooks were all over the place, offering a place for someone to lose themselves in the pages of a good book or work in silence. It was obvious why his grandfather had loved this place and had been talking about it for months.
"Stupid, machine." Yoongi heard you grumbling as you finally came up from behind a counter and smiled warmly in his direction. The smile that sent a warmth throughout his chest he suddenly felt guilty about having.
"What can I get you? And please, don't say coffee because the press is broken and the machine won't work," You pleaded with him, Yoongi's mouth opened to say something but he found himself unable to speak, struck by something he didn't understand. His chest was fluttering and his stomach was in knots, he didn't know what was happening. 
"Oh! Are you deaf? I know some sign language but I can write stuff down if it's easier." Before Yoongi had a chance to protest you were beginning to sign to him, something he didn't even understand himself but he was pretty sure you'd gotten it wrong.
"Can I get some tea?" He didn't know what was going on with his stomach but his grandfather always told him that tea solved most issues. Something warm to settle a raging stomach.
"Sure! I have a whole selction-" You were about to list off the extensive list you had when Yoongi shook his head,
"Early grey would be fine, with Milk."
"To go?" You arched a brow at him, most people that came in dressed the way he was got all of their orders to go. You knew the type he was, a businessman, too busy to learn the name of the place they were in but were loyal to it, it was nice.
"Erm," Yoongi glanced around and then down at his watch. He wasn't due back at work for another hour or so,
"I'll stay," He smiled at you and you nodded, pointing around the shop for him to sit anywhere he wanted. It wasn't like it was going to get busy anytime soon and your regular customer you'd had for a few months had suddenly stopped coming recently.
"Sure, make yourself comfortable." You gestured around the room and Yoongi stayed frozen in place,
"Don't you need my name for the order?" Yoongi countered you smirked a little at him.
"Because it'll get lost in the sea of customers?" You asked sarcastically, laughing nervously at the end,
"I guess that's true." He chuckles a little, and for the first time in a long time it feels like a genuine laugh from him, something he hadn't done for a long time
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"He died?" Your voice was so sympathetic as soon as Yoongi told you about his grandfather, Rath, who had been your most loyal and regular customer. The two of you had been discussing your business for a while and you'd mentioned to Yoongi about having to close down soon if you weren't picking up in business.
"I wondered why he stopped coming by," You slowly sank down in the armchair opposite Yoongi and he smiled sadly down at the cup of tea in his hands. 
"Were you close to my grandfather?" You weren't close with the man but he'd been coming in every day it felt like you were friends.
"I wouldn't say close but we did talk a lot whenever he was here, he loved you." You smiled, Rath had spoken so much about Yoongi that you felt as though you knew him but he hadn't been at all what you were expecting. 
You'd expected some small, nerdy-looking guy but Yoongi was the opposite, he was built well, dressed in the finest of suits and looked as though he could be in the pages of magazines.
"I have a proposition for you." He suddenly said. Yoongi wasn't blind, he could see the business was going under and he knew you needed him as much as he needed you.
"Which is?" You laughed a little, looking up at the time and then back to Yoongi. The two of you had been sat talking for almost two hours now and still not a single other person had come in, which hadn't gone unnoticed by Yoongi, who was already concocting a plan in his mind.
"I need to get married." He said bluntly.
"And I need your help to do it." You held back the urge to laugh as you stared at him, you weren't sure what his grandfather had told him but you didn't know anyone in the market at the minute.
"Unfortunately I'm not sure I'm your girl, I can't help."
"But you can. You see, I have a lot of money and you need a lot of money." You knew that already, the Min family were richer than rich, one of the richest families in the world.
"What makes you think I NEED money?" You were trying to play it close to your chest, but it was true. You were desperate for money, your coffee machines were broken and you were behind on four months worth of rent.
"Yn, let's be real, your business is going under and I can help. I can keep you afloat or make you a huge success, whatever you want I can do that." As amazing as that sounded you still didn't know anyone that would be willing to just randomly get married to him,
"But I don't know anyone that wants to be married." You shook your head but Yoongi smirked at you,
"You can marry me," The words registered in your brain and you bit back the urge to laugh in his face.
"Are you insane?" You added a nervous laugh at the end and stood up, moving away from where he was sitting but he was quick to follow you.
"I have a lot of influence, I can easily make this place well known." He told you with a giant smile, your hands nervously tugged at the cleaning rag in your hand and you stared at him. 
"Just for marrying you?" 
"Just marrying me. All fake, no one would have to know we're not really together," Shit like this didn't happen in real life, only in books and really bad film adaptations, there had to be a catch. 
"What do you get out of this? Why do you need a wife so badly?" Was this something he did on a regular? Ask random women to marry him and then never follow through with all of his promises.
"If I get married, I can collect my grandfather's part of the company but I need a wife." He was going to ignore the child part until absolutely necessary, he was sure there was a way out of that.
"Why wouldn't he leave it to you?" You frowned, Rath had seemed so sure of Yoongi, you were positive he would have left his Grandson something. 
"He doesn't want me to end up alone," Yoongi admitted, your heart breaking a little as you remembered Rath mentioning he wished he'd never divorced Yoongi's grandmother,
"Oh."
"You'd get your business up and running, booming, I'd get half of the company away from my vultures of a family and everyone will be happy." You'd heard stories of the other side of Yoongi's family, stories from Rath and things you'd read about in the media.
"Okay...But there have to be some rules in place...A contract?"
"Agreed," Yoongi glanced down at his watch and bit his lip, he was already late for a meeting but that didn't matter.
"Come up to my office tonight, give your name to security and they'll bring you up. We'll work out a contract and hash out all of the details." He smiled warmly at you and you somehow believed him that all of this was going to work.
"My business will be fixed if I do this, right?"
"I promise." He breathed out before rushing out of the door, your heart racing at the thought of all of this becoming true. You glanced down at your outfit before cursing yourself, you were dressed in clothes with holes and your apron was torn to pieces.
"New outfit," You mumbled, heading to the door and locking it up. If you were going to go into business with Yoongi then you wanted to look the part. 
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"Come in," Yoongi called as he heard a small tapping at his office door, the day had gone on for longer than he'd liked and he was looking forward to writing out the contract and heading home for the night. 
"Mr Min, Yn is here." His assistant announced before shutting the door, Yoongi slowly glanced up from his desk and his eyes almost popped out of his head.
He had been expecting you in the same scraps of clothes you had worn this morning but instead, you were dressed in a black pencil skirt and a red silk top that was unbuttoned to show just enough cleavage.
"Is this okay? It's the only thing I had left from my office days," You laughed nervously when you noticed him staring at you a little longer than he had done that morning.
"It's-It's erm, perfect." His voice stuttered and cracked as he stared at you. He had no idea that you could look this way and now he suddenly felt as though he was out of his depth. 
"Please sit," He gestured to the seat in front of his desk before grabbing two bottles of water and sitting back down. By now you'd gotten out a worn leather-bond book from your bag and smiled.
"Let's get straight to it," You said, your tone businesslike yet hidden with a little humour. Yoongi smiled to himself, preparing his own notepad.
"We need some rules in place, so nothing is blurred along the way." He stated simply.
"Your business will be my number one priority during all of this. We'll sit down with a bookkeeper and organise your bills as well as figure out anything that's owed." You suddenly felt your chest tighten, you were in a massive amount of debt. Yoongi had already gone into research mode when he got home and knew everything you needed to pay off.
"T-That might be a lot. Are you sure you're up for it?" You hated that you were in so much debt, when you'd ventured out alone to own your own place you'd been so sure it would be great you could pay it back in no time.
"No issue, I assure you, I didn't become the CEO Of Min Media but shying away from challenges." Your debt wouldn't even cause a dent in his savings but he wasn't going to tell you that and make you feel bad about it.
"That means a lot...Thank you," You smiled warmly, the smile sent his stomach into knots once again, he really wanted to see someone about that.
"We need to keep everything strictly professional." You finally stated, looking up from your notepad and back at Yoongi who was, once again, staring at you.
"Agreed." He jotted it down on the notepad.
"Secondly, we can't tell anyone it's not real. It's imperative to me we keep everything hidden. We keep up a genuine illusion to appease my family and the shareholders." He told you, if anyone found out this was all fake he'd most likely lose his shareholdings as well as be the laughingstock of the media world.
"Agreed." You wrote it down, and Yoongi eyed you up. You'd been quiet about your family finding out and it worried him a little. He didn't want you to go around telling anyone it was fake, it would only take one slip-up for the world to know.
"What about your family?"
"What about them?" You asked, staring up at him with a blank expression on your face, Yoongi frowned.
"You can't tell them the truth." He reminded you and you nodded, your lips in a line as you shrugged your shoulders a little.
"Not a problem, I haven't spoken to them in almost four years since I went out on my own to own a cafe."
"Understood. We must present as a united front," He stared at you. His heart felt heavy at the thought of your family ignoring you for following your dreams. 
"We will have to attend social events together, support each other publicly and appear as a happy married couple at all times." You nodded at him.
"I can handle that." It was no big deal, you'd get to dress fancy for a while and it would be fun,
"Living arrangements?" Yoongi wrote down and then stared at you,
"Well, I currently have a place in the lower part of Seoul, you're more than welcome to come and live with me," You teased only to be met with widened eyes.
"That was a joke Yoongi," You clarified with a small laugh,
"You can move in with me." He stated plainly, you frowned at him. As much as you hated your place you weren't sure moving in with him was the best idea.
"Is it necessary though?"
"Yn, once we're seen together you'll never get peace...People will want to know why a soon-to-be-married couple are living separately." You knew he was right, there would be too many questions and you didn't want to have to deal with them,
"Okay."
"I'll arrange a moving van for you tomorrow." He smiled, writing down on a sticky note to remind himself once the two of you were done.
"Can I suggest one more?"
"Sure." He looked up at you, expecting something about asking to be paid, or for more than you were getting out of it. All of which he was willing to do if it meant getting what he needed out of you.
"No falling in love. It's a business arrangement and any romantic feelings that may develop should be ignored." Yoongi was taken back but nodded his head at you. 
"Of course. We have a deal." He smiled shaking your hand across the table.
With a sense of determination, you added a final clause to your contract: Yoongi would take over the financial management of Pages & Aromas, ensuring its stability and prosperity while also shouldering the burden of its debts.
"We will be announcing our marriage this weekend, it'll be held here. In the meantime, I'll pay your rent for the cafe," He stated as you both signed along the pieces of paper, Yoongi took them both into his grasp and filed them in his drawer his eyes lingering over the clause about not falling in love.
"I'd like it if you didn't work for a few months if that's okay?" He suggested, staring at you as you frowned.
"We can fix up the shop a little, have it redone to your specifications and then announce it as a grand opening." 
"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"
"You can do whatever you want, money is no issue."
"It is for me."
"We'll be married, what's mine...is yours," He stated before laying down a black card in front of you.
"Yoongi, it's already enough you're helping my business I can't take your money too." The statement was shocking, everyone Yoongi knew was always after his money, it was why he'd never dated in the past.
"Fine. But please keep it, you can use it as an emergency card, or if you need an outfit for an event...it's yours," He told you as you flipped the card over, already finding your name inscribed on it, had he been so sure about all of it since this morning?
"Okay. Fine."
"I'll have Alan drive you home and I'll see you tomorrow at my place." He smiled warmly at you as you got up from the chair, feeling a little overwhelmed with everything but nodding your head.
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With a sense of nervousness mingled with excitement, you stepped into Yoongi's luxurious penthouse apartment. Your final box had been taken up by a group of men and you were unsure of what you were supposed to do now. You walked through the door, slipping off your shoes before your eyes widened at the opulence that surrounded you. The spacious living area was adorned with sleek modern furniture and tasteful artwork while floor-to-ceiling windows offered sweeping views of the city skyline below. You could practically see all of Seoul from up here, how did he get anything done? You knew you'd find yourself people-watching more than you should.
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you set about unpacking your belongings, your mind racing with thoughts of the new chapter that lay ahead. As you sorted through boxes and arranged your stuff in their designated places, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place in such a lavish environment.
"Mr Min will be late this evening, he said to make yourself at home," Alan, who had driven you home the night previous, said with a warm smile on his face. But how were you supposed to do that? You didn't know what you were and weren't allowed to do or even where to go. Did he have rooms off-limits to you? More questions flooded your mind but as the afternoon waned into evening, you found solace in the familiar routine of preparing dinner, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the sizzle of food cooking on the stove grounding you in the present moment.
You'd always loved cooking, you were hungry and determined to make a good impression on Yoongi. Even going as far as to make your famous cake no one could say no to it.
By the time Yoongi arrived home, the apartment was filled with the tantalizing scent of home-cooked food and freshly baked treats. Stepping through the door, he was greeted by the sight of you bustling about the kitchen, a warm smile gracing your lips.
"Welcome home," You said, your voice infused with genuine warmth, something Yoongi hadn't had the pleasure of hearing in years. His eyes lit up with surprise and appreciation as he took in the scene before him. 
"You've been busy," he remarked, a note of amusement in his voice as he watched you carefully. You shrugged modestly, a warm feeling spreading onto your cheeks. 
"I wanted to do something nice for you. Dinner will be ready soon, and I made cake." Yoongi's smile widened as he crossed the room to envelop you in a grateful hug.
"Thank you, Yn. You didn't have to do all this." You were in shock at the hug at first, your heart thumping as you tried not to overthink it. He was just grateful for the food. You smiled a little, returning the embrace, a sense of contentment settling over you. 
"I know. But I wanted to." You admit before going to set everything down on the table ready to eat. 
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It had been almost a week since the news had broke that you and Yoongi were going to be married and he'd been right. People followed you EVERYWHERE. You'd gone grocery shopping two nights after the news was released and you'd been followed by men with cameras, all of them screaming questions at you. Luckily you and Yoongi had already come up with a story for you both, something easy to remember. You'd met because of his grandfather and it had almost been love at first sight. 
Tonight though you were at a restaurant together, your hands linked on the table as you stared lovingly at one another. All of it feels a little too real for you. 
"Tell me something about you that I wouldn't find in a magazine or news article." You begged Yoongi. Since moving in with him you'd done extensive research on him, wanting to be prepared in case any of his crazy family members tried to doubt the two of you. 
Yoongi stared at you, hesitating for a moment as he thought about it. He was torn between the desire to open up to you and betraying your agreement but the look in your eyes made it hard to resist. 
"Well, I've always loved astronomy," He confessed, his eye staring down at the glass feeling suddenly vulnerable.
"There's something about the vastness of the universe that puts everything into perspective." Your eyes lit up with interest, finally, something about him that wasn't run-of-the-mill CEO shit.
"That's beautiful," You whispered, 
"I've always been drawn to the stars as well." You admit, the two of you getting lost in conversation and completely forgetting about the many people snapping photos of you together. Yoongi let himself open up to you more, finding himself falling in a freefall for you. His head reminded him of the agreement you'd made together, no falling in love and he couldn't risk jeopardizing everything. 
"Why haven't you spoken to your family?" He suddenly found himself asking over dessert, your fork freezing midway to your mouth as your throat suddenly ran dry.
"They decided they didn't want me to ruin their family name,"
"But you were following your dreams, shouldn't that be something they were proud of you for doing?" He didn't understand how someone couldn't support the person they loved in everything that they did. 
"The Score family don't follow dreams, they crush them," Your voice was flat and dry as you placed your fork down.
"Score? As in-"
"Lawyers, the best in the business." You hissed out, you hated that all of this was being bought up but you owed it to Yoongi to tell him the truth.
"I don't speak to them, biologically I'm their daughter but legally I'm not."
"You were emancipated?" He watched you closely and you nodded your head,
"As soon as I left the company I did it myself," You admit with a smile on your face, you were proud of what you'd done. Being a lawyer had never been your dream and if the people that had raised you had it their way you'd still be another cog in the inner workings of their awful company.
"Believe me Yoongi, they have nothing to do with me-" His hand was on top of yours, rubbing over your skin in a soothing motion.
"It wouldn't bother me if they were still in your life." He promises, a weight being lifted from your chest as you let out a happy sigh.
The two of you continued to talk all night long, discovering things each other you hadn't known before and it was starting to feel like a true friendship was forming.
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Months began to fly by as you and Yoongi worked on your fake relationship and countless parties you attended together, business and personal, but tonight was the one you were most nervous about. You were pacing around in the living room of the apartment waiting for Yoongi to come down and meet you. Your hands nervously played with the purse you were holding, the prospect of meeting his family tonight looming over your head like a dark cloud. 
The door to the living room opened and Yoongi stepped inside, freezing when he saw you pacing around but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were in a stunning floor-length gown, crimson colour to match his tie but it clung to your body perfectly, seeing you turned his blood to fire. You paced away from him giving him the perfect view of the back of the gown, which had a crisscrossing strap at the back, the fabric shimmering and glowing with every step you took.
"I don't know if I can do this." You admit to Yoongi once you notice him there. You'd been faking it with everyone and everyone believed you so far but were his family going to be so easy to convince?
"Your family...they're going to see right through me." Your voice trembled with uncertainty and Yoongi smiled weakly walking over to you. He was nervous himself but he wasn't going to admit it to you.
"Yn, you're stronger than you think." He told you, his hand gently reaching out and rubbing your arm.
"We'll get through tonight, together." He had no doubt the two of you could convince his family you were together, to be honest, he had a hard time convincing himself it wasn't real. 
"What if they ask about our relationship and I cock the story up? What if they see through me?" He smiled down at you, running his hand over your cheek.
"We'll handle it, Yn. I won't let anything happen to you," And he meant it, if anything were to ever happen to you he knew he'd never survive it. 
After months of spending every second by your side, he felt himself falling harder and harder in love with you until the point where everything was blurred except for you. All he cared about was a future with you. His words were like a lifeline pulling you back from the edge of panic, you took in a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on everything again. 
"And if they don't believe us? What happens to me?" You asked, your voice tinged with apprehension.
"I'll make sure your business is taken care of, I'll not let anything happen to you but for now, let's focus on getting through tonight together." He whispers, kissing your hand softly as you feel a spark running through your veins. No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that as long as you faced them together, you could conquer anything that stood in your way. And with that realization, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a glimmer of hope.
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As the two of you made your way through the entrance, all eyes turned to greet you, your presence as a couple commanding attention amidst the sea of glamorous attendees. 
"They're staring." You uttered to Yoongi as he smirked, his arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you walked together, your steps synchronized in harmony. Heads turned, smiles were exchanged and greetings were offered as you passed by people. 
"How could they not? You look like you stepped out of a magazine, you look beautiful." It wasn't the first compliment that Yoongi had ever paid you, in fact, you'd grown used to the compliments he'd give to you all the time. Including the small hugs and kisses the two of you would share even if you were in public, it was clear lines were starting to blur but you weren't entirely sure you minded anymore.
"Look, it's Min Yoongi and his fiancée," Someone whispered, their voice tinged with awe. 
"They're a stunning couple." Her date said back to her, their eyes trailing over you both as you moved through the crowd. 
"Let's give them something to talk about," Yoongi whispered but before you had a chance to ask what he was talking about he was taking you over to the dance floor. 
His hand rested gently on your waist, guiding you with a tender pull as you began to move around the dance floor together, the rest of the world fading into the background. 
Your movements were slow and deliberate, each steps a silent conversation between you as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. Your heart raced with every beat, your breath catching in your throat as you allowed yourself to be swept up by the magic of the moment.
"You look beautiful," Yoongi whispered, your eyes locking as you stared at one another.
"You said that already," You mumbled nervously as he smirked to himself, moving in time with you as you fell back into a comfortable silence. Not a single word needed to be uttered as you knew what was happening to you, you were falling in love with him too fast and everything was falling apart around you. You continued to dance together, neither of you daring to speak the words that lingered in the back of your head. Knowing that acknowledging your love would shatter the delicate illusion you'd worked so hard to maintain.
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"So this is the lovely Yn." You turned your head to face Juliain, Yoongi's father and Yoongi wrapped his arm tighter around your waist.
"Lovely dance the two of you did, your mother made me dance shortly after." He chuckles softly but Yoongi remains deadpan and unreadable, his grip on you tightening. You'd heard about Julilan from both Rath and Yoongi and you knew the man was bad news, a slimeball only after money.
"Julilan. Lovely to see you, shame you didn't make it to grandfather's funeral, it was a lovely service." Yoongi said coldly, your eyes staring up at him. Julian had refused to go to the funeral but had gone to the reading of the will, only to see what he was entitled to. 
"I have no doubt, you always knew how to throw a party." Julian laughed but your heart shattered, Rath had been an amazing man and to insinuate that a party was held for his dying instead of a grand funeral boiled your blood.
"Party? A man died-"
"Hush. You don't speak unless spoken to." Julian said in a dismissive tone, your mouth dropping open as you couldn't believe the man in front of you. 
"With all due respect, sir, I am not a decoration on Yoongi's arm I am his Fiancée," You spoke clearly but Julian turned to look at his son who was now red in the face,
"I see she has no manners or concept of brains. Where did you pick her up? A brothel?" Your stomach dropped as you looked down at yourself, was he implying you looked like a whore? The woman who had dressed you tonight told you that you'd looked elegant.
"Don't." Yoongi seethed through gritted teeth,
"Women should be seen and not heard. Act like the trophy wife you are meant to be." Julian was in your face but within seconds he was shoved away by Yoongi, a smirk playing on his father's lips as he realised he was getting under his skin.
"Don't speak to my wife like that." He ordered but you pulled at his arm, you could already see people starting to stare and Yoongi didn't need the bad press.
"You're not married yet. Are you really going to cause a scene over a woman? Behave." He hissed at him, you stared at him as you waited for him to insult him one last time.
"Still just a child." He muttered, about to walk away when you finally found your voice once more.
"A child who has done more than you'll ever accomplish in your life." You hissed out at him, earning a smirk from Yoongi, he had to admit he was proud of you for not backing down from him.
"Why you little-" A hand was raised in the air but Yoongi caught it, shoving his father away from you.
"I see why you hate the man." You mumbled as Yoongi checked on you, his eyes softening once he saw you were okay.
"If he'd hurt you just then." It didn't bear to think about, he was angry, blood-curdling as he thought about the way his father had gone to strike you. 
"He didn't." You whispered to him, your hand rubbing his back softly but it did nothing to calm him down right now.
"I'd kill him."
"Yoongi." You pleaded with him, but he was lost in his own anger.
"He's a disgusting piece of shit and I would have killed him." You stepped in front of him, your eyes finding his as he stared down at you in shock,
"But then I'd have no one to watch the stars with," You whispered only for his whole body to relax and he nodded slowly at you.
"Let's get some food and go out on the balcony, we can go and look at the stars and pretend Julian isn't even here," You offered to him.
Yoongi ventured off to fetch some food and you found yourself alone in the gala, looking around at everyone who was dancing together or mingling. This world was something you'd never thought you'd fit into before but after spending so much time in it, it almost felt like home.
"Ah, Yn dear, there you are." You slowly turned around to see Mia, Rath's ex-wife making her way to you with a giant smile on her face.
"I've been meaning to have a word with you," She said as she reached you, her voice gentle and a welcoming contrast compared to her son.
"Of course, Mrs Min. Is everything alright?" You eyed her up as she smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 
"No one's called me that in years, call me Mia." She begged, you nodded at her and slowly made your way out onto the balcony to talk better together.
"I wanted to first tell you how happy I am that Evan has found someone like you." Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart fluttering at the unexpected praise.
"T-Thank you, Mia. That means a lot to me." Mia reached out to pat your hand affectionately.
"You know, I've seen the way he looks at you. It reminds me of the way Rath used to look at me." Your breath caught in your throat at the implication of her words.
"I...I'm not sure what you mean." She chuckled softly at you,
"Oh, my dear, don't be so modest. It's written all over his face- He loves you, and I couldn't be happier for the both of you, even if you were faking it at first." You smiled weakly, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to process everything you'd just heard. Yoongi loved you - truly, deeply and unequivocally and that sent a surge of panic through you.
"Rath would have adored seeing you both together," Mia added before giving you an envelope.
"In my side of the will I was to give this to the beautiful girl from the cafe, now I assume that's you." You stared down at the envelope and nodded, quickly placing it into your bag to look at another time, when you weren't so stressed. 
"I-I have to go," You rushed out, panic taking over you as you began to hurry through the crowded hall. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, you loved him too but there was no way you could do this. You raced around a corner when you collided with Yoongi, sending you both sprawling to the floor.
"Yn, what's wrong?" Concern was etched in his features as he reached out to steady you. Your breathing turned tagged as you struggled to compose yourself, slowly standing up.
"I...I need to talk to you," Your voice barely came out above a whisper but Yoongi nodded, leading you to a nearby alcove away from prying eyes.
"What is it, Yn? You're shaking." He reached out to touch you and you took in a deep breath, words tumbling out in a rush as you fought to make sense of everything.
"I just spoke to your grandmother, and she...she said that you love me, Yoongi. And...I...I don't know what to do." Yoongi's expression softened as he reached out to cup your trembling hands in his, his touch sending a shiver of warmth coursing through you.
"Yn, listen to me. I know this is overwhelming but you need to understand something...you belong here with me," You stared up at him as he didn't deny falling for you, tears welling up in your eyes as you shook your head.
"I ran away from this world."
"And now you're back but I promise it'll be nothing like your family's world." He breathed out as you stared at him, his eyes boring into you,
"You belong here, with me."
` "What if you suddenly decide I'm not good enough for you? What if I can't give you everything you deserve?" Yoongi brushed a gentle thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear.
"You're everything I need, Yn. Your love, your strength, your unwavering support - it's more than I could ever hope for. And as long as we have each other, we can face whatever comes our way." Tears began to melt away as you stared at him.
"I love you, Yoongi." You whispered, the words feeling like a weight was taken right off our chest.
"I love you, Yn, Always." He whispered. 
With a soft sigh, he closed the distance between you and you leaned in slowly to him. It felt like an eternity until your lips met in a tender kiss, time seemed to stand still as you savoured the sweetness of the moment, your hearts beating in harmony as you finally surrendered to the pull of love. It was a kiss so full of tenderness and longing, of hope and promise. 
When you pulled away your foreheads touched and you giggled a little.
"Let's go home, I wanna show you how much I really love you," He winks, as you squeal a little taking his hand and practically dragging him out of the party.
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Months Later 
"CEO'S Expecting: Min Yoongi and Min Yn Announce Pregnancy, Anticipate The New Heir To The Legacy?" You read out the title of the "Webber Files" newspaper and stared over at Yoongi with a blank expression.
"I see why their paper sucks," You grumbled, folding it up and staring at your husband who hadn't been able to take his eyes off you.
"Don't look at me like that, the last time you looked at me like that, this happened!" You stated, pointing down at your baby bump and whining at him.
"But we had fun," He wiggled his eyebrows at you and sat down beside you on the sofa, the two of you curling up together on a lazy Saturday morning.
"We did," You giggled as he ran his hand over your bump, smiling happily to himself. Not long after you found out you were expecting Yoongi told you the other stipulation about getting his grandfather's portion of the company and that was a child but you couldn't have been happier it was happening.
"Julian will flip a lid." You laughed at the thought of his father finding out about his son having a child but more importantly, you couldn't wait for him to figure out he was getting nothing in the will besides a small shop in the middle of nowhere.
"Oh, I meant to say. Gran asked if you'd looked into the envelope yet. Whatever that means," He frowns and you reach out for your bag, opening it up to find the envelope still sitting there.
As you took it out and opened it you couldn't believe what you were reading.
"By now I assume Yoongi and yourself are together and knowing My Mia she would have given this to you at the appropriate time, but enclosed are the deeds to your cafe. All yours, all paid for, as well as the number to my lawyer who will arrange for you to inherit some money as an investment to you and your dream.
Best Wishes,
Rath,"
You and Yoongi stared at one another, laughing a little as you realised Rath had been planning your get-together for a very long time.
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cybsoo2 · 3 months
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heated red
╰┈➤ synopsis — Min Yoongi is a man of duality. Familiar with the sugary sweet side, you can’t help but be shocked at what hides behind closed doors.
╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!suga x reader
╰┈➤ word count — 3.5k
╰┈➤ content warning — murder, … DETAILED murder, gore, violence, strong language, yandere behavior, angst
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Everything about Yoongi is sugary sweet. From head to toe, Min Yoongi is the sun of your universe. Every action and every gesture proves that he’s the world’s best boyfriend. 
You two have been dating for just over 2 years now, and it’s nothing short of perfection. At the beginning of your relationship, Yoongi could be mistaken as cold and uncaring; but his shy and thoughtful feelings are what brought you two together. It took some time for you both to become familiar with each other. Yet, Yoongi was determined in his attempts to get to know you. A rough relationship, still fresh and sensitive, bloomed into one of trust and time. Each touch that whispers against your skin says, “I know you, I understand you, I love you.” What Yoongi can't convey with the words that tongue-tie him, he settles to portray in his body language. 
His hands always feel so solid from the way they sink into your skin, assuring you of his presence and affection for you. Candy-coated words slide down your throat while he kisses you, mumbling confessions between breaths; “God, I’m so in love with you,” a breathless kiss in between, “I’d do anything for you.” No word he speaks is dishonest and each letter weighs with the seriousness of his admission. His eyes blind you in a heated red with how much fire burns beneath them. Burnt brown eyes, almost burdensome, frequently border on urgent. As if no matter how many times he says the words, it’ll never be enough for you to understand his devotion to you. 
Yoongi is loyal, kind, sweet, and everything else in between. You have no doubt that Yoongi will always continue to remain a constant comfort in your life. Although, no matter what way your brain has interpreted his presence, everyone else seems to think otherwise.
Regardless of who you cross paths with, friends, family, or foe, they plant seeds of doubt into your pretty little head. These troubling thoughts fester with wicked intentions and ideas. In Yoongi’s words, “The filth these people spit at you are just lies. Twisting themselves into your opinions and trying to cut me out. They’re just jealous. Don’t talk about them again.” When Yoongi speaks about the people that spill the blood that corrupts your mind, his face turns sour and his eyes shadow dark slits. This harsh look has played on your mind enough for you to stop bringing up the subject completely.
Yet these off comments and anxious looks continue to devour your mind. Whispers pick up in the wind about how Yoongi is a liar. They talk about the dead eyes that contradict the expressive cat-like ones that follow your motions. His heavy hands on your hips don’t match up to the tight grip he takes to the back of your friend’s necks. A warning, or a friendly gesture; you and those around you seem to have two very different ways of deciphering the deeper design of Yoongi’s actions. 
Today you felt like you were living life in a maze. Chasing demands from not only your boss, but Yoongi too. You spent the day running around the city until the sun set. 
You vividly remember how this morning had gone. Walking in through the elevator, shots of minimalistic grey meet your eye. Stale flowers and sweet perfume waft into the wind. You can’t help but feel small in the presence of such expensive luxury. Girls and guys decorated like dolls in diamonds. Even the blood on their hands shines like rubies. A strike upon the back of your head interrupts your staring.
“What are you doing standing there doing nothing? I’ve got things for you to do.” 
You’ve run yourself down running around like a headless chicken. Searching across town for the products and tasks you’ve been sent to complete. Vain efforts that are impractical and impossible. 
Once the hand hits 5 and your work is done for the day, Yoongi had texted you asking a few favours. No matter how drained you were, you could never refuse a request from him. You dragged your drowsy self into the driver’s seat and prayed the time would go by fast.
It did not. It seemed as if Yoongi was persistent that you stay running into endless walls and dead-ends. Too many things out of stock, nonexistent, or a million miles away. The stars start to shine in the sky, mirroring the way your eyes glisten with galaxies of exhaustion. 
The drive home is a blue blur. Your head mixes up time with tiredness, and your sore eyes paint watercolour tears over your surroundings. This bleary fog blinds you, and once it lifts the slightest bit, you find yourself standing at the front door. 
When you walk through the door, you wish you hadn’t. Yoongi’s kneeled over someone, it would look intimate if it wasn’t for the muffled screams and rageful roars that harmonize in the air. He’s shouting at her, choking and stumbling through laughter that never seizes. She’s trying to scream, but his hand holds a rag that’s shoved halfway down her throat. A dirted knife is held in his other.
You can barely recognize the women beneath her own blood and carnage, but you manage. You’re able to distinguish the bleached blonde hair that he rips from her scalp. The array of hair sprawled out around the two bodies guides your eyes to the bejeweled earrings you set your sights upon only hours earlier. This gore has glossed over the diamonds, leaving them dull and lifeless.
You remember the face that matched the gems, young and confident. That pearly white smile that once had you feeling envious has been knocked off her cocky grin. You’re able to pinpoint her place above you. Her, the idolized icon and you as her dirty dog. 
She’s your manager, or maybe she won’t be when Yoongi’s finished with her. She adopted you to be her pet. A plaything to possess in her position of power. Always replaceable and inevitably desperate, you played along with her game to keep your job. It paid well and the benefits were more than anyone could ever hope for. In a game of pain and promise, you chose the former in order to receive the latter. This tiresome torture laid an ache in your heart, yet Yoongi was there to stitch back the pieces. Giving yourself up to be teased and toyed with by a tyrant allowed you to have a peaceful life with Yoongi, separate from the harm.
Yet sometimes, in the blue afternoon when the world is set to silence, the stinging sadness slips through the cracks. You’ve never been good at keeping things hidden from Yoongi, and you’d like to assume the same for him too. You strained your sore throat through the crying and told Yoongi about everything that happens daily at work. Her taunts that leave you tense and the impossible tasks she’d give only to punish you after you failed to complete them. 
Your rampant rant had left you tired and you leaned up against his chest. The only sound that made sense in your mind was the rushing red flowing through his heart. A serene song that serenades you to sleep. You counted the beats as you drifted off into dreamland. 1, a heart that keeps Yoongi alive. 2, a heartbeat that means he’s here. 3, a heartache that tears him apart.
You couldn’t see it then, off in euphoria while Yoongi laid wide awake. But a bloodshot look with black pupils bled misery down his features. Hot and steady, sorrow fell off his face and the teardrops kissed your skin. Yoongi’s head and heart had been set ablaze into a state of chaos. Hot fury and cold desperation confused him. He’s angry and sad all at once. Although, much like any other time, his rage outweighed the anguish and fiery eyes ignited. 
This was 3 days ago. Yet now you stand amidst an annihilation. The bloodbath soaks every surface of your home. Lost pieces of hair, skin, and claret carnage find their way upon tabletops and splattered across the walls. The sight steals your breath, making you a mute statue in this red revelation. After minutes of struggling with a swollen tongue and stolen speech, you squeak out his name in surprise.
“Yo-Yoongi,” the words leave your lips tainted in tragedy. You can barely make out a single syllable from the flood of nausea that rushes through you. You sound so betrayed, it sends a hot hell-fire burning through Yoongi. The knife clatters to the floor when he whips his head up to face you.
“Y/n!” His gasp is laced with feverish panic that leaves his heart racing. Liquid white agony tangles itself through his veins. 
Once Yoongi directs all his attention to this distraction, the victim on the ground struggles against the dark burden of death. Her shrill scream pierces the silence as she whips her head back and forth in hysteria. Her own mindless panic causes her to smack her head against the wooden floorboards 10 times over. Blood sprays every which way as she mindlessly flails her lost limbs. It’s pathetic to watch her squirm under the inevitable circumstances. Severed stumps replace what was once her arms. Her legs fare no better; mutilated beyond repair, the joints cause their appendages to stick up in an unflattering way. 
The girl’s ear splitting shrieks muddled together with her own blood continue on without stopping. The inhumane noises are both maddening and horrifying to two different people. 
Yoongi feels his irritation rise to a breaking point. The fucked up bitch lying desperate on the floor is trying to ruin his chances of explanation. 
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He roughly grabs her head and bashes it into the floor until she stops screaming. She’s left a mangled mess upon the ground. Skin slit in every direction, and cuts ripped apart from the force of his anger. Brain matter spills out the back of her dented cranium. Her whole body twitches before falling into a limp pile amongst the bloodshed. 
Yoongi stands back up from his place knelt over her corpse. He frantically attempts to wipe off the scarlet sins that stain his hands. With a wild fever, Yoongi rubs his hands raw onto his pants and shakes his head in stress. You can see the way the stress sinks into his eyes as well, red-rimmed and tearing up as they stare into you.
“Y/n, y/n please. Please listen.” Each word is slurred together from the tears and terror that take hold of him. He rushes toward you in desperation and you watch as his eyes widen when you step back. “Please, this doesn’t mean anything. I still love you, I LOVE YOU!” His hopelessness destroys his composure as he begins yelling in order to get his message across. Seeing you flinch and fail to hide the fear in your watery eyes leads Yoongi to take a different approach. “I love you, I love you. This is just proving how much you mean to me.” He’s reached you now. Standing six inches away and tugging your figure to fall into him. “I’d do anything for you.” He mumbles his declaration in a low tone. He matches your misty eyes and stares into you. 
He holds half your weight, keeping your knees from giving in and dropping you downwards. He keeps you pushed gently against the wall and pressed into his chest. His hands keep your head cradled gently as he moves to hug you close. 
He lays kisses along your jawline and makes his way up, hoping that if he tries hard enough, he’ll be able to subdue the sadness. He’s counting the crystals as they fall and making sure they don’t double. 
Yoongi hates seeing you cry. His hands shake along with yours as the remorse for his actions flows through him. Although don’t be mistaken, his repentance should not be confused with regret. No, Yoongi doesn’t regret killing that filthy bitch at all. Pride swells in his chest and he chokes back a smile from reminiscing on her screams. Yoongi instead is regretful of not being more careful. He should’ve hidden this better. Shouldn’t have gotten caught up in the rush and been careless with his decisions. He wishes you never would’ve seen that.
Your tears leave tracks in the bloodshed he’s spilled upon you. Your cries have been shushed into small sniffles, but you feel all the same. Shock has taken over your limbs, leaving them heavy for him to carry. All thoughts have been blown out of your head at the drop of this bombshell. 
What were once lipstick marks are now bloodstains. He continues to kiss the pain away. Dragging his lips slowly up your neck and back down lower. These ruby smudges leave raised marks when his caressing begins to hold back an anger. If you could get your mouth to mutter easy words, then you would tell him that his lips sting. His kisses feel like bleach to bare skin. The trails he traces down your body leave shadows of his sins. Each peck he places on your pink cheeks holds the memories of the shouts he yelled only moments prior. 
“Let me get you cleaned up.” His husky whisper is placed at the base of your jaw. He pulls himself away far enough to look in your eyes. Your foreheads almost touching and your warm breath being shared between you. When you don’t resist he places a final kiss to your lips before steadying you against him once more. 
He’s patient and careful in the way he puppeteers your movements. Taking control of each limb as if it’s his own. He towers over you with the way he holds you. Your feet placed atop his, he walks you two, slow and steady, to the bedroom. Placing you down on the bed, he keeps you safe with your head nestled into his neck. He kisses the top of your head and lingers. Grabbing the hem of your shirt, he asks a question that only stills in the quiet.
“Good?” There’s no response. He bends down a tad bit further to try and look into your drowsy eyes. Your head hung so heavy against his collarbone only lets him move so far. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” He takes off your top, moving to your pants, and then follows with your underwear. Empathetic emotions sway his movements as every action is taken bit-by-bit. Taking your body’s behavior as a guiding force on what causes your anxiety to jump. Strong, sharp movements cause you to recoil and a voice that resembles even a hint of a shout or gravely tone sends shivers up your spine. Your goosebumps travel across Yoongi’s skin too. 
Now you’re left bare and sensitive under his skin. Yoongi works to avoid your empty eyes. Instead, he makes sure to support your vulnerable soul. You’ll remain in his arms where he’ll keep you warm and safe. He clings to your fading existence as he takes you into the bathroom. He holds a patient pace, wary of the wind that might steal away more pieces of you. 
He tears his clothes off in a blur, focused on attending to you. Sitting you on the edge of the bathtub, he reaches over to turn on the shower. Each minute is counted in Yoongi’s head as he waits for the water to warm up. One hand extended out to feel the heat, and the other rested on the crown of your head. You rest against his stomach, forehead sticking to his stress induced sweat. So limpid and lazy, you don’t even take the chance to outstretch yourself and grasp onto him. His waist is cold without your arms wrapped around it. Your brittle breath against his belly-button only startles the man instead of teasing a lustful heat that such a position would usually bring. You just lay like a dead doll against him. So silent and still you can almost hear the snakes that stir up a storm in his stomach. 
When the water is a tender temperature, Yoongi picks you up from the meat of your thighs and slides you two into the steam. You stay standing under the water for a while; waiting and watching as time continues its cascade. Yoongi tries to take away all the blood smeared across both of you. Slender hands slide across your skin, rubbing at the red until it washes away. 
His actions soon become more aimless as he grows selfishly desperate to feel your soul. His hands laid heavy upon your hips. His grip tightens and he places meaningless pecks anywhere he can find. His fingernails press a little too deep into your pink flesh, yet there’s no reaction to the pain. His hands work in a flurry to fist any piece of skin he can latch onto. Your wet bodies are so close you’re on the verge of blurring into one. So close, yet Yoongi still can’t feel you. There’s no life beneath his fingertips.
Your despondency startles him. Usually your energetic nature is what he relies on most. A permanent piece of his life that never changes and never falters. Just looking at you now, feeling the cold statue in his arms, he wants to cut himself to shreds attempting to bleed out this displeasure. Even if it is his own doing, he’ll make sure he’s also the one to fix you. 
Yoongi starts by shifting you both so you can sit in the base of the bathtub. He reaches to the shelf above your head and grabs the shampoo. His hands work their way through your hair. He detangles the knots from both your curls, and hopefully your mind. Yoongi has always been so meticulous in everything he does. He takes long, languid movements to assure no soap gets in your eyes. And when a droplet slips past his grasp, he’ll kiss away the escapee while grimacing at the suds his tongue tastes. 
His caring efforts are used to calm himself just as much as they are meant for you. He’s trying to distract himself from his uneven breathing that edges the line of a mental breakdown. His rasping continues as he now reaches for the second bottle above you. 
Once again, Yoongi works to lather the conditioner in his hands before smoothing it through your hair. He’s petting you how someone would comfort a dog, or console a crying child. Each easy touch he makes in order to not startle you any further. When he grabs the soap, he’s diligent with his motions. Efficient at scrubbing you clean, but tender in the way he maneuvers you. 
An hour washes itself down the drain. The water has run cold and the stream has cooled away. Yoongi takes your hands and wraps them around his neck before picking you up. He places you on the bathmat and reaches to grab a towel. You're patted dry before being wrapped in the dirty towel. Lifted up again, the man in front of you takes another dry towel off the rack. Yoongi is shaking from the frigid temperature that creeps around him. This feeling could be the least of his worries and he only pays attention to scaring away the icy droplets from your hair. He smooths your hair in one stroke with the towel then follows up by softening your strands with a brush. This two step process continues until Yoongi has been completely air-dried by the bitter cold. Random but repeated chills bite along his bare back and stir up shivers. 
Atrophy sets in when Yoongi begins to dress you. You're shock-still and there are no signs of it stopping. Unstirring and motionless, set to fall unless Yoongi was there to hold you. It’s significantly more difficult to dress you, so Yoongi only settles for underwear and one of his shirts. He decides to only wear boxers, opting to show you the most humane and vulnerable parts of himself. He leaves himself defenseless, ready to accept anything you give him. You’re pulled and pushed until you settle into the sheets. Both Yoongi and the bed wrap around you. Clinging to every empty space of you, they work to make you warm and soft for sleep. 
Yoongi pushes himself closer against you and tugs at the covers to bring them up higher. His bitten lips lay resting on the nape of your neck. He navigates his hands through the blankets to find your own. He noses the back of your neck and wishes pretty pleas for you to wake up like none of this ever happened
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” His melody of the sincerest apologies sings you to sleep. His hymn echoes off the shadowed walls of the bedroom and settles into background noise. The soft words vibrate against your back, almost resembling a purr. Saccharine sorrys and repeats of “Don’t be afraid, I’d never hurt you,” are mumbled until Yoongi loses his voice. His sore throat stings with a metallic taste. 
Feverish determination ends up sedating his sorrows. He’ll guide you into his good graces once again. He’s patient and gentle. As time tumbles onwards, he’ll be the best boyfriend once again, because everything about Yoongi is sugary sweet.
© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved
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sunnebeam · 9 months
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perks of being a househusband.
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SERIES.
pairing: min yoongi x reader
plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.
warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi in his stay-at-home hubs era
masterlist + disclaimers.
note: finally, a masterlist! :> no concrete story here btw!! just a bunch of mismatched scenarios that will be written and posted with no particular schedule. enjoy!!!
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INDEX.
I WAS HOPING I WOULDN'T HAVE TO RESORT TO THIS.
I ALWAYS GET THE JOB DONE.
THIS IS OUR TERRITORY.
MY BOSS JUST GAVE ME ORDERS.
FLASHBACK: WHEN YOU FIRST MET.
BONUS: HOLLY'S WALK.
I'M PROTECTING MY TURF IN MY OWN WAY.
[MORE TO BE ADDED]
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COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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cinnaminsvga · 3 months
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🥀 | yoongi
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the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired
→ vampire!yoongi ft. lots of miscommunication (all because newly-turned yoongi doesn't know how to talk to women lol) | 2.6K words → a/n: SURPRISE i am miraculously alive and well (?) back at it again with some weird monsterfucker propaganda... it's been months since i've written a fic so pardon the lacking quality but i Am Trying... also i added ghost!maknaeline bc i think they'd be cute... umm this might become a series if anyone is interested but i think it works as a standalone... enjoy!!!
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When Yoongi first agreed to being turned, he never imagined being so tired all the time. Even as a mortal, Yoongi had never been the most energetic soul. He preferred loafing around at home or reading a nice book by the fire. He rarely left his drafty villa, always isolated despite the nearby town. The most cardio he would ever do was when he’d take the few steps needed to get to his piano and play a few soft songs for the ghosts wandering down his halls.
He knew the neighbors liked to whisper about him, liked to refer to him as a local boogeyman to scare naughty children. “Beware the man who sold his soul to the devil,” they warned, though Yoongi supposes their silly rumors weren’t so far from the truth. Although, it was only a month ago that he did “sell his soul,” just not for the reasons that people might have expected.
Still, being a vampire was still very strange and new to Yoongi. He’d known about spirits and ghosts for as long as he can remember, but even he thought that creatures of the night were nothing more than an urban legend. All it took was one high-stakes game of cards and an empty promise to pay back a debt for Yoongi to realize that it probably isn’t smart to make deals with ghoulish-looking men in strange clothing in the first place.
It wasn’t all bad, save for the never-ending fatigue and deathly pallor to his skin. He was still Yoongi, just… worse, if you will.
For safety’s sake, he hadn’t told anyone about it. He was a bit embarrassed, to be honest. If his brother found out, he’d surely get an earful (or a stake through his heart, though Yoongi hopes his Seokjin hyung would remember all the good times they had together). Most importantly, he could absolutely NEVER tell you about his turning. That would be absolutely humiliating.
You were a witch doctor he had met just a few weeks prior to his turning. You had just moved into his sleepy town as a “pharmacist” who could “magically” make any ailment disappear. You had decided to move there on a whim after being exhausted from the high-paced nature of the big city.
You had spotted a small line of ghosts trailing after him on the night you had moved in. He had been on the way to the convenience store for a caffeine fix, and you had been on the way there to grab a couple of toiletries you had forgotten to pack.
You were so sweet, shyly approaching him under the guise of asking him if he could reach for a snack on a high shelf. But he could see your worried gaze fixed on the three spectral children climbing on his back, though he did nothing to shoo them away. After all, they had no mass, so as long as they didn’t lick his neck or something weird, he was fine with letting them be menaces.
When he had his back turned away from you to grab your snack, he could hear you quietly telling the ghosts to get off of him. They only laughed in response, their giggles always sounding a little muffled and distorted.
Yoongi plucked the bag of chips from the shelf and turned back to you, catching a glimpse of your annoyed expression before you could school it back into something more neutral.
“Is something the matter?” Yoongi asked smoothly, handing you the bag. He amusedly watched as your brows furrowed, not even hiding that you were glaring pointedly at the little gremlins making faces at you from his shoulder.
Jungkook, the youngest of the three ghosts, climbed on Yoongi’s head before proceeding to pull down his pants, mooning you with his spectral ass.
“Uh, nothing,” you eventually said, huffing indignantly as you stomped away. Yoongi caught you discreetly poking your tongue out in annoyance before you turned to another aisle.
Thus began your cautious attempts at exorcising him without trying to “alert” him to it. It was amusing to watch you try to “save” him from the three little ghosts that decided to cling onto him, and it was even more amusing to watch you fail repeatedly every time.
Yoongi made no comment when you were suddenly bumping into him everywhere he went. There was always a terse grin on your face as you performed as many anti-ghost spells as you could, but none of them ever seemed to work. The truth was, ghosts could only be exorcised if the haunted person in question wanted them to leave, but Yoongi had found himself a little fond of these stupid little kids. They might be slowly sucking the life force out of him, but Yoongi didn’t really care. They were just kids, and he’s always been too soft for his own good.
Your many encounters with him created a subtle friendship of sorts, one that Yoongi found himself enjoying. He was never been one to foster friendships with living beings, but perhaps your sweet attempts to save his soul might have defrosted his little grinch heart. But he wouldn’t ever tell you that, of course.
Plus, it didn’t hurt that you were very pretty, for that matter. He certainly would NEVER tell you that as well.
Was he feeling guilty for not telling you about his ability to see ghosts? Slightly. But was it cute watching you trying to outsmart three little ghost babies to no avail? Very much so.
So, Yoongi stayed quiet and enjoyed your company, even if you had no idea who he was or what type of things he was capable of.
That was until he got into that damn bet with the stupid bloodsucker.
Probably shouldn’t call him that, given that I’ve become one myself, Yoongi groaned internally. He’d been hiding in his house for a month now, and your “random” visits were surely on the horizon. He wasn’t sure if you’d immediately clock that he’d turned into a vampire, but he wasn’t going to risk it. If you found out, then you’d find out about everything, and that wouldn’t be a good impression.
Yoongi knew he wasn’t great at interacting with people, let alone people he had a crush on. But at least he knew that lying to someone for extended periods of time was probably not in his favor.
Little Jungkook fluttered close to him, his smoky form twinkling from the moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “When is the pretty witch coming to visit?” he asked, a little forlorn. Among the three ghosts, Jungkook was the one who’d grown attached to you the most. “I miss playing with her…”
Yoongi sighed, rubbing his face. “Hopefully never,” he responded, voice muffled by his hands. He peered through his fingers and saw the two other kids floating by his doorway.
Jimin, the older twin, nudged Taehyung forward to speak. “Y-Yoongi… I think she’s coming soon,” Taehyung whispered, a tinge of excitement evident in his tone.
“You can’t keep hiding from her forever… She's sure to find out anyway,” Jimin warned, uncharacteristically stern.
Yoongi stretched his tired limbs, his aching back cracking as he pushed himself off his sofa. Time moved weirdly ever since he turned into a vampire. This month had felt like a day, so it was hard to tell how long he'd been sitting so still. His creaking bones gave him an idea though, that's for sure. “I know… how much do I have to bribe you three to scare her away?”
Jungkook giggled, floating over to sit on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Nothing. We do that all the time for free,” he snickered.
Taehyung nodded in agreement. “It’s true… but she never seems to go away even when we do.”
“In fact, I know she thinks we’re cute,” Jimin said, and Yoongi couldn’t help but agree. Your cat and mouse game with the three idiots was probably past the point of annoyance and more towards the territory of playfulness. You likely noticed how they weren’t exactly the malicious ghosts that people feared, so you humored their antics.
(Yoongi hoped that you stuck around for him, too.)
“How much longer ’til she gets here?” Yoongi asked, walking to his bedroom. The air was stale inside the room, not having to use the bed as much as he once did. He opened his closet, trying to find some better-looking clothes than the threadbare robe he had decided to live in. He plucked a nice button-up shirt, before thinking better of it.
Am I really going to look like a stereotypical vampire when I meet her? What’s next, a cape?
“She’s a few blocks away,” Taehyung responded. The ghost paused, looking at the shirt Yoongi had put back. “No, wear that. She likes it when you wear that shirt.”
“She thinks you look regal in it,” Jimin agreed, grabbing his only pair of slacks. “These, too. She likes your butt in them.”
If Yoongi were still human, he’d probably blush. “I told you boys it’s rude to eavesdrop on her thoughts,” he scolded.
“You like the reassurance, though…” Jungkook muttered, but Yoongi ignored him.
“Two minutes away…!” Taehyung reminded him before disappearing. The two others followed suit, likely going to meet you before you arrived. Yoongi sighed, a headache slowly forming by his temple.
As promised, after two minutes, there was a knock from his front door. As Yoongi reluctantly approached and reached for the doorknob, he could hear you arguing playfully with his little friends.
“Taehyung, no pulling! I just got my hair fixed,” you whined. Despite your words, Yoongi could hear the affection in your voice, plain as day.
“You look really pretty today, noona…” Jungkook giggled, and Yoongi could imagine Jungkook placing a chaste kiss on your cheek in greeting. “Are you finally gonna tell hyung about your crush on him?”
“What are you talking about?!” you yelped. Yoongi heard something fall, then a string of curses from you. “Oh gosh, the food! I hope nothing spilled…”
“Don’t worry, noona. I doubt Yoongi hyung is hungry,” Jimin giggled slyly. “Unless you count how he’s hungry for you…”
Before you could reply to Jimin’s out-of-pocket comment, Yoongi swung open the door, an alarmed expression on his face. “H-hey, Y/N,” he began, a little awkwardly. He cleared his throat, trying to appear as if he hadn’t heard anything at all. “What do I owe this pleasure?”
You froze when Yoongi suddenly appeared. You were in the midst of rearranging the plastic bags of take-out food with your jaw agape, likely about to chastise Jimin for his rudeness. You floundered for a second before straightening up quickly. Your cheeks were a cute shade of red.
(Yeah, maybe he was a little hungry…)
“Yoongi! Oh god, sorry, I was just…” you stumbled for a moment, trying to figure out a way to explain yourself. Behind you, the three stooges grinned evilly, full of satisfaction.
“Do you need help?” Yoongi asked instead, bending down to gather your bags. The smell of take-out Chinese wafted into his nose, and he had to hide his growing smile. His favorite food, you had remembered. If he could eat, he’d be salivating.
“Yoongi hyung is salivating for a different reason…” Taehyung muttered, reading his thoughts. Yoongi and your eyes widened in alarm, causing the three kids to guffaw in response.
“Sorry, I was on the phone with somebody and the bags slipped,” you coughed, quickly grabbing the rest of the bags. In your haste, your hands accidentally touched, making you gasp in surprise.
“Gosh, Yoongi! Your hands are terribly cold! Are you alright…?” you asked, trailing off. When you tore your gaze away from his pale hand, you slowly turned to face him fully. Due to the uproar caused by the kids earlier, you hadn't been able to look at Yoongi properly since you arrived.
Yoongi braced himself, a terse smile on his lips.
You observed him silently, a mysterious emotion flitting through your face. Yoongi saw the way your gaze shifted to the injury on his neck, which he had recklessly forgotten to at least try to cover up. The dots were connecting, and Yoongi waited for you to make the first move.
To his surprise, you started by staring inquisitively at the kids. “Did you guys…?” you asked, suspicious. This was the first time you had openly addressed them in front of him, and Yoongi was shocked. Not only for that, but for also potentially thinking that they were to blame, somehow. Didn’t you trust them by now?
Jimin looked affronted, scoffing at your train of thought. “Us? Of course not! Why on earth would we do that to hyung?”
Jungkook huffed, wrapping an arm around your waist with a sad pout. “Yeah! Why would we hurt hyung on purpose? You don’t think we’d do that, right?” he asked, eyes watering with hurt tears.
Immediately, your expression softened. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” you trailed off, sighing. As if remembering where you were, you snapped back to reality, staring incredulously at Yoongi as if he’d grown three heads. Well, or turned into a vampire, he supposed.
“Yoongi! What on earth happened?” you asked, terrified for him. Or perhaps, terrified of him? Yoongi knew he should be feeling guilty, or embarrassed, or maybe a little ashamed, but all he could see was your worry for him, and his dead little heart would have skipped a beat if it still could. God, he was pathetic.
Instead of answering you truthfully, Yoongi chose to run away from his problems, like he always did. “It’s just a mosquito bite,” he explained lamely. He rubbed the very conspicuous marks in question, wincing slightly. It might have been a month since he turned, but it still felt as tender as it did the day it happened.
You stared at him, unimpressed. “In the middle of winter? When you rarely step out of your house?” you asked sarcastically. You gave him a steely glare. “Be serious with me for a second, Yoongi.”
But Yoongi couldn’t. He couldn’t tell you, or else he’d literally die a second death, from embarrassment or heartbreak, he couldn’t tell.
“I… I don’t actually know,” Yoongi lied. It was sort of true. He didn’t know that the stupid bet would actually mean he’d give up his soul to pay for an impossible debt. He had been swindled, that was it. He still didn’t understand how he could’ve been so stupid.
“He didn’t know he was stupid… what a joke,” Jimin murmured, causing the others to giggle in turn. You and Yoongi ignored them.
When he didn’t explain further, your shoulders slumped, defeated. You likely didn’t believe him one bit, but you were never the type to push. You were probably as shy as he was, which had caused its fair share of misunderstandings in the past. Most of the time, those misunderstandings helped Yoongi, though he often wished that he didn’t need them. One day, he’d be honest with you, but for now…
“May I come in, Yoongi? There’s something I have to tell you…” you started, eyes shifting behind you. The kids hovered closer, watching you with curiosity.
Yoongi felt the air turn colder, though he wasn’t sure if it was just him, the wind, or the ghosts doing it. Or maybe it was you.
Yoongi opened the door wider, gesturing for you to come in. “Please, make yourself at home…” he whispered before closing the door gently.
Outside, the three boys didn’t make a move to come in.
“Now… we wait,” Jimin whispered. The other two nodded, faces determined. They floated to the second floor of Yoongi’s villa, still keeping their ears to the floor. As much as they wanted to interrupt, they knew this was an important development for the two of you. They wanted to give you a false sense of privacy, but they could never stop themselves from hearing the gossip. God knows that these rascals would be bored without their daily dose of real telenovela romance.
In the living room, Yoongi took a seat as far away from you on the couch as possible. He laced his hands with an iron grip, forcing himself to stop any fidgeting.
Breaking the silence, you sighed tiredly. “So… where do I begin?”
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