Vows (Part 1)

Vows (Part 1)

aka 10 ways to win your husband's heart: an arranged marriage AU

You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

Pairing: Yoongi x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Arranged marriage, e2l, smut, angst

Word count: 12k

Warnings: Sex, swearing

Ah shit.

You lift the arm curled around your waist off you and commando roll out of the luxurious california king you’ve woken up in.

The beautiful man you woke up with shifts and his face presses into the pillow. 

You tear your admiring eyes away from him guiltily and grab his shirt from the floor, slipping it on, buttoning quickly.

You’re tiptoeing to the door when a grumpy deep voice makes you freeze.

‘That’s my favourite shirt,’ your husband says.

You reach for your patience and don’t find it. 

Min Yoongi has exhausted all your reserves of goodwill towards him.

‘I was trying to be considerate and not wake you up,’ you say through gritted teeth.

He snorts. 

Your blood pressure spikes.

You unbutton the shirt and seriously consider throwing it at his beautiful head.

You’re so annoyed it takes you longer than it should to register the way his gaze is roaming your naked body.

‘Min Yoongi,’ you say, injecting as much ice into your tone as you can, ‘you know we can only tolerate each other when we’re drunk.’

‘My morning wood’s not picky,’ he drawls, like it’s a compliment.

You roll your eyes. You know Yoongi’s always been attracted to you physically.

It’s your personality he can’t stand.

‘I’m sore,’ you tell him briskly, putting your dress back on. 

You’re not lying. You think Yoongi sometimes takes his anger with you out on your cunt.

You love it, really, but he’s got a generous dick and impressive stamina and you really are sore.

Yoongi, unusually, looks concerned. ‘Was it too much?’

You ignore the flutter in your chest as he picks your panties off the floor and passes them to you, smoothing a soothing hand over your lower back.

You step away from his touch as though his hand is burning. 

His sigh of irritation gives you life.

‘You’re deeply annoying,’ he tells you.

You smile, brilliantly, at him.

‘Oh Yoongi, are you this sweet to all the women you sleep with?’

‘Are you this annoying to all the men you fuck?’ he snaps.

Your smile falters for a second before you pull your mask firmly back in place.

You turn away from him and leave his bedroom without a goodbye.

***

Yoongi stares at the mark on his neck, just above the collar of his shirt, and thinks of you as he gets dressed for work.

Of course you’d had to mark him, even after he’d warned you not to. 

Sometimes you’re so fucking exasperating he can’t stand you.

Now he has to meet his entire board, including his father and grandfather, looking like a horny teenager.

He has a flashback to your beautiful thighs wrapped around his hips, ankles crossed behind him, as you begged him not to stop.

Yoongi tries to shut that image out of his head before the erection he’s had all morning returns, but the image is burned into his retinas.

Shit, it’s in living technicolour with fucking surround sound. 

Yoongi finishes getting dressed and stops by the kitchen for a coffee.

Mrs Gye, his housekeeper, smiles politely at him as she hands him his flask.

Yoongi thanks her, and is about to leave when he remembers.

‘Can you make some herbal tea for Mrs Min, please? She’s not feeling too well this morning.’

Mrs Gye nods, ‘of course, Mr Min.’

‘Don’t tell her I asked you to do it, just say you made some,’ Yoongi instructs. 

Mrs Gye looks like she’s about to protest, but Yoongi’s already out the door into his waiting car.

***

You sigh with pleasure as you sip your herbal tea on your way into work. 

Mrs Gye, your housekeeper, is truly a treasure.

She’d assured you that Yoongi hadn’t noticed anything different about his morning flask of coffee.

Yoongi’s a man of habit, so much so that he’s predictable in every way. 

One of the cleaners had dropped his favourite flask and cracked it yesterday. 

She’d been apologetic, but you’d been worried.

You know he’s got a big meeting with the board of his company today and you’d been determined not to let anything detract from his focus.

You’d driven to three places after work before you’d been able to find a replacement. You’d bought five, just to futureproof against any other flask mishaps.

Of course, all that driving around had made you late for dinner and Yoongi had been sure you’d been late on purpose.

You can’t blame him, it’s the sort of stunt you’d have pulled five years ago when you first got married.

You’ve changed but you’re pretty sure Yoongi sees you as still the same spoiled, immature heiress he’d been forced to marry, as the oldest son and heir to his family’s vast business empire.

Anyway, Yoongi’d been seething throughout dinner. 

He’d spanked you until your ass was red raw.

You’d begged for more.

You stifle the delicious shiver that runs through you at the memory.

Your mood drops as you remember him accusing you of fucking other men.

Sure, you’d accused him of the same, but you’ve always been faithful to him.

You just don’t know if he’s been as faithful to you.

You’d heard the rumours about him and his breathtakingly beautiful and terrifyingly talented media director.

Park Gyuri was a model and actress before she went to grad school and earned an MBA. She waltzed into Yoongi’s family company, and she’s been doing a bang up job of everything since then.

She’s also the woman Yoongi was dating before he was forced to marry you.

You stopped seeking out the rumours because it became upsetting.

In your heart of hearts, you don’t think Yoongi’s any more in love with you than he was when you got married.

In truth, you wouldn’t blame him.

You’d spent years being the exact cold hearted bitch he’d eventually accused you of being.

You’re surprised it took him that long to finally snap.

***

Yoongi smiles at Gyuri as she walks into his office.

She’s beautifully put together as always, and she’s wearing green silk today, a shade that complements her colouring well.

‘Free for dinner tonight?’ she asks.

‘What’s the occasion?’ Yoongi asks. 

‘Nothing, I just want to have dinner with my friend,’ Gyuri says, smiling affectionately at him.

There’s a pause before ‘friend’, so brief Yoongi knows anyone else probably wouldn’t have noticed it, but he did.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he’d never considered what his life would be like now if he hadn’t married you. 

He’d probably be less annoyed on a day to day basis.

He’d probably still be a member of the country club you’d got him kicked out of.

He might be married to Gyuri instead.

He’s about to say yes when your face floats into his head. The look in your eyes when he’d accused you of being annoying, which is definitely true, and of fucking other men, which he doesn’t think is true. 

Yoongi says, politely, ‘Rain check? I’d like to have dinner at home today.’ 

He’s been thinking about how you said you were sore, and he wants to check on you.

You’ll probably ignore him like you always do but he wants to see you’re all right for himself.

Also, he’s aware there’s an underlying frisson between him and Gyuri, and he doesn’t want to explore that just yet.

For once, Yoongi doesn’t linger in his office after everyone leaves. He picks up his bag and calls for his car and heads home.

When he reaches home, he walks into the kitchen. Mrs Gye is at the sink whilst something’s simmering on the stovetop. She startles when he sees him.

‘Ah, Mr Min, you’re back early.’

Yoongi murmurs something about working at home and hands her his flask. Then he stops, looking at another identical four flasks sitting to dry on the draining board by the sink.

Mrs Gye sees his line of vision.

‘Mrs Min bought them yesterday.’

Yoongi’s first thought is that you’re plotting something devious.

‘Where is Mrs Min?’ he asks.

‘She went up to her room.’

Yoongi doesn’t often go to your rooms, in fact he doesn’t think he’s visited you there this year at all.

He knocks on the door and there’s a muffled response.

‘I’m in bed, is it important, Mrs Gye?’

Yoongi says, ‘it’s me.’

He senses rather than hears your response. In moments you’re opening the door, pulling a robe tight around your waist.

Your hair is messy, your face devoid of makeup.

You look up at him self consciously. 

Yoongi puts a hand on your arm. ‘Are you ok?’ 

You frown at him. ‘You didn’t kill me with your dick. I’m on my period.’

Yoongi bites back the laugh that threatens to erupt.

You ask, ‘would you like to come in?’

Yoongi follows you through your bedroom to your living area. 

You pour both of you water and sit in your favourite chair, legs curling underneath you.

‘How are you doing, Yoongi?’ you ask, yawning.

‘Do you want to sleep with me?’ Yoongi asks, suddenly.

You choke on your water. 

Yoongi waits until you’ve recovered enough to speak.

‘Right now? Jesus Yoongi I said I was on my period.’

Yoongi looks unperturbed. ‘I didn’t mean fuck, although if you’re down, I am. I meant sleep with me. Do you want to sleep in the same room?’

You stare at him.

‘Are we in danger?’

Yoongi stares at you.‘What? No, don’t be ridiculous.’

‘You can tell me, Yoongi, my family have security contacts everywhere.’

Yoongi massages his forehead. ‘No. Forget it. Just forget it.’

You get up hurriedly as he looks like he’s about to ditch you. ‘Yoongi!’

He stops. 

‘You want to spend more time together?’ You ask, doubtful as to what he really meant.

‘We’re married,’ Yoongi points out, patient. ‘We’ll probably have kids eventually. Shouldn’t we try to get to know each other?’

You have a flashback, vivid, of Yoongi calling you a spoiled, stuck up bitch.

‘Yes. Let’s sleep together.’

Yoongi looks at you for a moment. 

He holds out his hand. 

With a sense of trepidation, you take it.

***

‘It’s weird not to be fucking,’ you say to Yoongi, pulling the covers up to your neck, looking around his room curiously. 

‘It’s also 9pm. Why are you already in bed?’

You hop out and trip over a pair of Yoongi’s slippers, sprawling on the floor.

Yoongi looks at you, shirt half unbuttoned.

‘I’m tired,’ you say, crawling back into bed.

You pull the covers over your head.

A moment later you feel him sitting on the bed.

He pats over where your head is.

‘Come have dinner with me.’

‘Is that an euphemism for a blow job?’ you ask from under the covers.

You sit up suddenly and realise Yoongi’s sitting on the bed in his briefs.

You can feel heat rush to your face. 

It’s not like you haven’t seen your husband naked before, hell, it’s not even been 24 hours since you last fucked.

But this is different.

This is intimacy when you’re more comfortable with fucking.

Yoongi’s watching the way your eyes rove over his thighs.

‘See something you like?’ he asks, coolly.

You scoff. ‘Of course I like the way you look, Min Yoongi.’

You get up. ‘Let’s eat.’

****

Yoongi eyes you over the soup you’re stirring.

‘Why did you buy so many flasks?’ he asks.

Your eyes snap to his. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I saw them.’

You shrug. ‘You like them. I want you to have replacements if one breaks.’

‘That’s thoughtful.’

‘Just being a dutiful wife,’ you chirrup cheerfully.

Yoongi stares at you like you’ve grown another head. ‘You are definitely not that.’

You nod in agreement. ‘You’re right.’

‘Are you feeling ok? You’ve barely touched your soup and you already tried to get into bed.’

‘I’m on my period,’ you tell him, again. You get up. ‘I’m going to go get some of my things and bring them to your room.’

‘It’s our room,’ Yoongi corrects, gently.

‘Our room,’ you repeat. 

By the time you’ve finished gathering your things, Yoongi’s just got to his door.

‘After you,’ he says, strangely formal.

You shoot him a look and head to his huge dressing room.

‘You can use that side,’ he says, pointing.

The entire wall he’s pointing at is made up of bare clothes rails at varying heights. 

You pull open a drawer, intending to deposit your toiletries and underwear in it, and stop when you see the packages inside it.

‘What’s this?’ you ask.

Yoongi walks over from his side of the dressing room.

Together you look at the boxes from a well-known underwear brand. It’s the same brand you tend to wear.

You look up at Yoongi, and to your surprise, the tips of his ears are red.

Your impatient, unsentimental husband actually looks… embarrassed.

You wait him out.

Finally, he mutters, ‘sometimes if I see something I like, I buy it for you.’

You can’t believe your ears. 

‘Did you buy this for — someone else?’ you ask quietly.

Another thought occurs to you. 

‘Did you buy this for yourself?’ you ask. 

Yoongi groans, irritably. 

‘I bought all this shit for you. My wife.’

He opens the top box and rifles through what looks like a beautiful red silk and lace teddy. You glimpse the tags. It’s your size.

‘I got this after that night when you wore that red dress to meet the Hans because you look fucking breathtaking in red.’

‘How do you know my size?’ you ask weakly, stalling to give your brain time to catch up.

‘Your size is the only fucking thing I do know about you,’ Yoongi says, still irritable. ‘How many times have I taken your lingerie off?’

You stare each other into an uneasy stalemate.

‘You really didn’t buy this for anyone else?’ you ask.

‘Believe me or don’t believe me,’ Yoongi says, at the end of his tether. 

He stalks out of his dressing room, and you blink blindly at the stack of boxes in the drawer.

By the time you re-enter Yoongi’s bedroom, the lights are off and he’s a lump under the covers.

You climb in the other side and after a moment, scoot over to be closer to him.

He’s got his back to you, rigid, cold.

You put your hand on his shoulder to warn him, then kiss the back of his neck.

‘Thank you,’ you tell him.

You’re half- asleep by the time he turns onto his back. His hand brushes yours under the covers, not holding it but touching you.

‘You’re welcome,’ he says. 

You curl your pinky finger around his, like a promise, and go to sleep.

***

When you wake up the next morning, Yoongi’s already gone.

His side of the bed is rumpled, and when you run your hand over the sheet it’s cold.

You need to think. 

Even better, you need a third party to do your thinking for you.

You send your best friend Nara a text, then notice the time.

Shit. You need to get to work.

You hop out of bed, trip over Yoongi’s slippers again and scurry to your own room to get dressed.

Your morning is pretty dull, a bunch of meetings with clients, a team brief before your new product launch tonight.

Nara meets you for lunch. 

Kim Nara has been your closest friend since junior tennis club. She has an impressively strong backhand, a competitive streak a mile wide and is the most loyal person you’ve ever met.

She pours you some wine from the bottle she started whilst waiting for you, then sits back in her seat.

‘What was so urgent you had to meet today?’ she asks.

Her eyes narrow. ‘Did Min Yoongi knock you up?’

‘What? No. I’m on my period right now,’ you protest. 

You take a gulp of wine to fortify yourself.

‘But it does involve him.’

Nara takes a matching big sip. ‘Hit me.’

‘I think I should try to get him to forgive me.’

‘For what?’ Nara asks. There’s a mischievous light in her eyes now.

‘For buying Kim Seokjin instead of him at that bullshit charity auction? For sending that chain email to all his employees with his STI testing results? For getting him blacklisted from every golf course in the country?’

You cringe.

You’d been young when you married Yoongi, spoiled and impulsive and naive and terribly, terribly selfish.

Nara sucks in a breath to power what you know is going to be a litany of crimes. You’d write it all down if it wouldn’t kill you to read what an asshole you were to him.

You have no idea why he hasn’t divorced you.

You guess this is why he tries to break you every time you have sex.

Nara’s talking about the time you ran off to Switzerland for three months, but you tune her out.

You need to make all this up to Yoongi, a man who buys you gifts even when you’re barely talking, and who wants to be closer to you despite everything you’ve done to him.

You figure ten is a nice round number.

You’re going to do it. 

You’re going to find the ten worst things you’ve done to Min Yoongi and make up for every single one of them.

***

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Min, Mr Kim says he can’t see you until his bodyguard gets here.’

You gape at the expressionless secretary who’s been dispatched to give you the news. He nods apologetically, then withdraws.

The nerve of Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin is Yoongi’s best friend, and instrumental in your plan to make things right with Yoongi.

It looks like he’s going to make you work for it every step of the way. You’ve been waiting outside his office for ten minutes already, and there’s no end in sight.

The first attack you’d launched on Min Yoongi after you got married was at a charity fundraiser where there had been, to your devious delight, an auction.

Not just any auction. Seokjin and Yoongi had been part of it, and you’d very intentionally bid on Seokjin despite wearing the Min heirloom pendant around your neck.

You’d bid a ridiculous amount and won him, a record that was shattered not long after by the ‘purchase’ of a man with a rakish glint in his eye, Jungkook, you think his name was.

Even worse, you’d paid a horny elderly society lady, Mrs Kang, known for her constant innuendoes and wandering hands, to purchase your then new husband.

He’s never told you what happened on their date. 

On your date with Seokjin you’d dressed so provocatively you were a quick move away from being arrested for public indecency.

To his credit, you hadn’t once caught Seokjin’s eyes wandering below your neck.

He’d spent the whole date scolding you on Yoongi’s behalf.

You’ve had other shenanigans with Seokjin, but the auction is the most scandalous one by far. You’re not surprised he doesn’t want to see you.

You glance at your watch and realise you’ve been waiting for over twenty minutes.

You get up to leave and you hear your name called in a deep voice that’s definitely not Seokjin’s.

It’s a man, around six feet tall, who looks the size of a refrigerator. He looks like he could break you in half and not break a sweat.

You’re escorted into Seokjin’s office.

‘Y/N,’ Seokjin says, formally, from behind his desk. ‘Have a seat.’

You aren’t sure if Seokjin realises that you practically grew up in boardrooms much more intimidating than this. 

You sit behind his desk obediently.

‘I wanted to talk to you about Yoongi,’ you say, rushed, because you don’t know how much time you have.

Seokjin looks at you evenly. ‘I have no interest in discussing my best friend with you.’

‘We don’t have to discuss him. I just want to make up for all of the things I’ve done to him over the years.’

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. You’ve always found him intimidating, if you’re honest. 

‘Anyway, can you convince him to put himself up for auction at the Rose Ball next month?’

‘Why?’ Seokjin snaps. ‘So you can humiliate him again?’

Your hackles rise at his tone, but you remind yourself of your end goal. You’re not sure you can make Yoongi cuddly but you think you might be able to make him like you.

‘I won’t humiliate him,’ you say, humbly.

Seokjin glares at you. ‘I need more assurance than your word, funnily enough.’

You like how loyal Seokjin is to Yoongi, but he’s sure being an ass right now.

‘I’ll pay you.’

Seokjin frowns. ‘Do I look like I need the money?’

‘I’ll cook dinner for Yoongi and you,’ you offer.

He snorts. 

‘Can you even cook?’

‘Jesus what do you want Seokjin?’

You stand, and immediately his bodyguard takes a protective step forward.

You throw your hands up in exasperation.

‘Yoongi really wants to go to watch the Portland Trail Blazers when they’re in town next month. It’s right before the Rose Ball. Take him and I’ll get him to auction himself off at the Rose Ball.’

You put out a hand, forgetting about the bodyguard for a moment.

You pull it back quickly when he steps in front of Seokjin. 

‘Deal,’ you call happily over the bodyguard’s shoulder.

‘Wait.’

Seokjin steps out from behind the human wall and holds out his hand.

You shake it. 

‘Don’t fuck me or Yoongi over,’ Seokjin warns.

‘I won’t,’ you promise.

***

Yoongi’s already home when you get back after work. 

He’s dressed in basketball shorts, a sweatband around his forehead.

‘You look hot,’ you say, absently, as you search through your drawer in his dressing room for a loose tee.

‘Here,’ Yoongi says. He tosses you a plain tee, one of his own. 

You put it to your face and inhale. 

‘It’s fresh,’ Yoongi says, dryly.

‘It smells like you,’ you say. ‘I like it.’

You step out of your work clothes and pull it over your head. 

‘I’m going to bed.’

You pause before you leave the dressing room. ‘Hey, Yoongi. I got tickets to the Portland trail blazers game next month. Wanna go together?’

Yoongi gapes at you. 

‘You didn’t seriously just ask me out to a basketball game with my favourite team whilst wearing my t-shirt and nothing else.’

You hadn’t been thinking about anything naughty but you snap to attention at his words.

‘Are you still on your period?’ Yoongi asks.

He’s already rounding the central island in the middle of his dressing room, where he keeps his watches and jewellery.

He’s heading straight for you.

You squeak and retreat to the bed.

He’s a second behind you, landing right on you before you can even yank up the covers.

‘Let’s make out,’ he says, voice husky.

‘Yeah,’ you agree.

His lips are almost on yours when you stop him.

‘Do you still want to make out even if we don’t—‘ you trail off, and Yoongi looks at you oddly.

‘Fuck?’ he supplies, helpfully.

You nod.

‘Are you serious? What do you think I am? Some sort of brute?’

‘We usually just skip to the fucking,’ you point out.

Yoongi stares at you for so long you think he’s had a stroke.

Then he leans over and kisses your forehead. 

Your eyes closed automatically when his lips touched you, so it takes you a moment to realise he’s pulling away. 

‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ he says. 

He’s out the door before you get a chance to say goodbye.

***

You’re trying to pick something to wear to the game with Yoongi. You’re not really a fan of basketball, not like he is. Your only knowledge of basketball consists of what you’ve gleaned from pictures of celebrities courtside and what you’ve seen in movies.

Once you’re dressed, you run downstairs to where Yoongi’s waiting. 

‘They’re not courtside,’ you say, apologetic, as Yoongi drives.

‘You’ve said that a few times,’ Yoongi says mildly, signalling to turn.

‘I just don’t want you to be disappointed,’ you say.

‘I won’t be,’ Yoongi says. 

‘I don’t know anything about basketball,’ you tell him. 

Yoongi looks at you with such disappointment it feels like you need to seek his forgiveness for yet another thing.

‘I’m calling the best divorce lawyer in town right after this,’ Yoongi says. ‘But first, let’s watch the game.’

‘What? You’re divorcing me over a —- sport?’

‘Not helping the cause,’ Yoongi retorts.

You want to pout but you’re pretty sure he’ll just get annoyed with you. 

Yoongi drives into a multi-storey car park and backs into a space so sexily you get a little wet just watching him. 

He even does that thing where he rests his arm against your seat, as though it’s a habit he can’t break even though his car has a rear camera.

You want to hold hands with him as you walk to the arena, but you rarely ever touch when you’re not fucking. 

Yoongi says, without looking at you, ‘what is it now?’

‘This is kind of like a date,’ you observe.

Yoongi sighs. 

He’s never really indulged your fondness for romantic gestures, you guess he’s always seen them as childish. 

‘It’s a date,’ he confirms. He leads you to your seats as though he knows the arena well. 

You look around curiously. The seats aren’t courtside, but you’re only a couple of rows back, and the view seems fine to you.

‘Is this ok?’ you ask.

‘They’re perfect seats. Stop asking me or I’ll kiss you and ruin your lip gloss.’

‘This is kiss proof, actually,’ you say, seriously. 

Yoongi turns fully to look at you. ‘Is that an invitation for me to test it out?’

‘Let’s just see how the date goes,’ you say, leaning back in your seat.

You can feel his eyes on you. He scoffs, but he doesn’t sound annoyed. 

The game is an exciting one, but you spend it mainly watching Yoongi. He’s pretty even-tempered most of the time, but watching basketball really seems to get his blood going.

He cheers so loudly and enthusiastically you’re almost deafened. Once the game gets going he barely even seems to notice you.

You’re glad he’s enjoying himself. 

At half time, you get him to take a selfie with you to send to Seokjin as proof. 

You’ve just sent it when he leans over and kisses you on the cheek, quickly.

You turn to him, but he’s already turned away.

You think about the feel of his lips on your cheek for the rest of the game, and somehow the second half flies by.

Yoongi’s so hyped by the time the game ends that you keep smiling at how endearing he is. 

‘I feel like you need to talk about this to someone who knows about basketball,’ you remark as you walk back to your car.

He grins at you. ‘I might stop by Seokjin’s place.’

‘Ah sure,’ you say, a little crestfallen that he doesn’t want to go home with you.

You fiddle with your phone, realising you don’t even know where Seokjin lives. ‘Is home on your way?’

‘I’ll drop you off,’ he says. 

You’re quiet on the drive home. Yoongi pulls into your driveway and shuts the engine off. 

‘Hey,’ he says.

You turn to him. 

‘Thanks for getting us tickets. And thanks for coming with me.’

You smile. ‘It was Seokjin’s idea,’ you demur. ‘See you later, Yoongi.’

You get out of the car and are walking to the front entrance of your home when you hear the car door close behind you.

There’s footsteps, and by the time you turn, Yoongi’s standing in front of you, barely two feet away.

‘Hey,’ he says again. ‘Can I get a kiss goodnight?’

You reach into your brain for a snappy remark but come up with nothing.

All you can do is look up at him as he leans over you and kisses you. His tongue flicks at the seam of your lips, once, and then he’s pulling away.

He smooths your hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

The action makes your heart flutter helplessly in your chest. He rarely ever touches you like this. 

Yoongi rubs his thumb over your bottom lip, gently.

‘I’ll see you later. I’ll try not to wake you up when I get in.’

He waits, engine idling, until you’re safely indoors before he drives off.

***

You’re nervous. It’s the night of the Rose Ball, and the charity auction where you’re going to orchestrate the first stage of making up with Yoongi.

You’ve picked a red dress because of what he said about you looking pretty in red.

Yoongi knocks on your bedroom door, because you’d wanted to get ready alone.

You open the door and take in the vision of your husband in a white dinner jacket, hair pushed back from his forehead and styled beautifully.

There are silver earrings glinting in his ears, and his hair is currently silver to match. 

‘You look very handsome,’ you tell him, honest.

He holds out his arm. ‘I think you’re wearing red on purpose to fuck with me, aren’t you? Quick, say something annoying so the universe can tilt back to its normal axis.’

Gamely, you pout at him and whine, ‘why didn’t you get me any new jewellery to wear, Yoongi?’

‘I’ve got some pearls I can put around your neck,’ Yoongi suggests. 

‘I’d rather you put them down my throat,’ you say, suggestively.

‘There’s my spoiled little horny heiress,’ Yoongi says, approvingly.

You roll your eyes. ‘I’m not spoiled.’ 

‘Try saying that in a less whiny tone,’ Yoongi tells you unsympathetically.

‘I’m not whiny.’

‘I hope you saved up some money to buy Kim Seokjin again tonight,’ Yoongi says.

You frown.

‘I’m gonna buy you, not Seokjin.’

He snorts. ‘I hope you’re not expecting me to buy you.’

You pause. This is an angle you hadn’t even considered. 

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

At the ball, you read through the list of names up for auction. To your annoyance, Seokjin, Yoongi and you are all one after another, clustered together.

You think it’s an attempt to capitalise on the scandal of the previous time Seokjin and Yoongi were up for auction.

You’re nervous all throughout dinner, and by the time the auction starts you’re vibrating with nerves.

Seokjin stands when his name is announced, nodding at the emcee. Across the table from you, you can feel Yoongi’s eyes burning into your head. 

The bidding starts at a cool 5 million won, and rapidly escalates.

Seokjin, devastatingly handsome in a beautiful tux that emphasizes the broadness of his chest and shoulders, doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be surprised.

You look at Yoongi and keep your hands perfectly still in your lap.

‘50 million won, do I hear 55?’ 

It’s a relief when the bidding closes at 75 million won. You don’t even see who the highest bidder is, concentrating on your husband sitting across from you.

When Yoongi’s name is announced, he stands and nods. 

You think to yourself again how beautiful your husband looks.

You keep up with the bids easily. To your annoyance, the bidding is fast and furious, and it’s only moments before you’re holding at 90 million won.

‘Do I hear 95?’ 

‘100 million won.’

You turn, aghast, and look into the diabolical and devious eyes of Kim Seokjin. 

Why the hell is Kim Seokjin driving up the bidding war on your husband?

Yoongi just looks amused when you stare at him, accusing.

‘110 million,’ you snap.

You try to stare the evil bastard down between bids.

By the time you get to 150 million won, you’re glaring daggers at Seokjin and Yoongi.

‘Sold to Mrs Min.’ 

There’s barely time to breathe a sigh of relief before you realise Yoongi and Seokjin are now patting each other on the back. 

To your chagrin, they leave the room as your name is announced.

As the bids escalate on you, you pull your phone out and send Yoongi a rapid fire text.

Y/N: Buy me or I won’t fuck you tonight.

Yoongi, the bastard, makes you wait on read.

You’re dialling his number when you realise two things. 

One, that the bidding’s somehow reached a hundred million won.

And two, that the main bidder is a very beautiful man whom you’ve never met.

‘Going once….’

You squirm in your seat as Yoongi and Seokjin walk back into the room.

If there’s any urgency in Yoongi at all that his wife is about to be sold to a random stranger, his face doesn’t show it.

You suppose this is exactly how he felt when you let Mrs Kang buy him.

‘Going twice to Mr Park Jimin.’

Yoongi lifts a brow, and his eyes snap to the beautiful man. 

He nods to the auctioneer, and bidding resumes.

Park Jimin seems pretty determined, but he’s no match for your husband.

Yoongi buys you for a shade under two hundred million won.

***

You’re trying to unfasten your necklace whilst Yoongi gets changed after the ball.

‘Two hundred million won,’ you say, teasingly. ‘Guess I’ll need to put out.’

Yoongi grunts, and a moment later he says, ‘lift your hair.’

You pull your hair away from the back of your neck and he unfastens your necklace for you. 

‘You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to,’ he says. 

Later, in bed, you’re lying awake next to Yoongi, thinking about the night.

‘Yoongi,’ you whisper.

He sounds like he’s stifling a groan. ‘What?’

‘Thanks for buying me.’

It’s so dark you can’t see any of his features.

Eventually, he says, ‘there was never a possibility that I wouldn’t.’

‘What?’ you ask, surprised. ‘Say that again.’

‘Good night, Y/N.’

***

You think that one of the things that irritated Yoongi the most about you when you first got married was your total lack of interest in getting to know his friends.

And so part two of making up with Yoongi involves Kim Namjoon.

He’s an interesting man, from what you know of him.

Like Yoongi and Seokjin, he comes from a privileged background. Unlike Yoongi and Seokjin, though, he’s not in the family business. He runs an art gallery in the city with his partner, Nayeon.

You’re apprehensive about approaching Namjoon at the gallery but you can’t think of any other way to meet him.

Seokjin’s less icy to you since you took Yoongi to watch basketball and since the successful completion of step 1, but there’s no way he’d voluntarily help you. 

You push open the glass door and decide to just walk around.

Unlike Seokjin, Namjoon doesn’t make you wait. 

You’re barely in the cool comfort of the gallery before he’s standing next to you. 

‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ he asks, politely.

You search his expression for hints of sarcasm, but he seems perfectly sincere.

To be fair, you’ve never tried to provoke him like you did Seokjin.

You decide to be as direct as he is.

‘I was hoping to invite you and Nayeon for dinner at ours,’ you say.

He doesn’t answer straight away.

‘I haven’t really tried to get to know Yoongi’s friends, since we’ve been married,’ you say, pointing out the obvious. ‘I’m trying to remedy that.’

Namjoon gives you a long look. 

You wonder what Yoongi’s been saying about you to his friends.

Judging by how wary all his friends are around you, you don’t think he’s been singing your praises.

You’re just about to speak again, when Namjoon says, ‘Yoongi often comes to ours on a Sunday night for dinner. I’m sure Nayeon would be really pleased if you could make it with him this Sunday.’

You smile, grateful. ‘I’d love that.’

Namjoon gives you another long look, then a dimple flashes in his cheek.

It transforms his face, which up until now had been rather stern and intimidating.

‘I’ll see you Sunday.’

***

Yoongi’s watching you polish off the last of the bread at dinner, bemused.

You figure now’s as good a time as any to tell him about how you’ve invited yourself to dinner on Sunday.

He takes it in his stride.

‘I’ll try not to embarrass you,’ you say, jokingly.

‘Like when you sent my sexual health test results to my entire company?’ asks Yoongi.

You look down at your plate. 

Shit, another thing you need to atone for. 

‘Sorry about that,’ you tell him, contrite.

‘It’s fine,’ Yoongi says, rolling his eyes. ‘I became a meme for a few months, I can cope with that.’

You put your hand on his arm. ‘I really am sorry. Want a blow job?’

Yoongi rolls his eyes again. ‘Are we so emotionally stunted we can only communicate through sex?’

His tone is cutting. 

You’ve been so soft for him lately that there’s a pang of hurt in your chest.

‘You’re a lot more tolerable when you’re fucking me,’ you say, coldly.

‘Likewise, princess,’ Yoongi snaps.

You get up from the table and go to watch TV alone in your rooms.

By the time you go in to Yoongi’s bedroom, it’s dark.

You slide in next to him and turn away, back facing him.

You hear a sigh, then his hand pats the sheets, looking for yours. 

You tuck your hands between your legs.

Yoongi’s hand travels down your arm, seeking your hand.

His thumb brushes over your clit, and you let out a surprised ‘oh’.

Yoongi shifts over, spooning you, chest pressing against your back.

‘Can I touch you, princess?’ he asks, voice low. ‘I’ve been thinking about how you pouted at dinner and I’m so fucking hard.’

‘I don’t want to cum for you,’ you tell him, petulant.

Yoongi nibbles at your neck, sharp teeth sending shocks of pain and pleasure through you.

‘I’ll make you cum anyway, princess. Get you grinding against my hand and crying my name. You always sound so pretty for me.’

‘Yoongi,’ you murmur, but your legs are already spreading to make room for him.

‘That’s my girl,’ he says, fingers slipping through your slick heat like he hadn’t expected anything less. ‘Let me fuck the spoilt brat out of you until only my baby’s left, hmm?’

Yoongi talks dirty to you until you’re creaming around his fingers, then his cock.

***

Yoongi looks up from his phone and gives you a quelling look.

‘Stop fidgeting.’

You hug the bottle of wine you’re bringing to Nayeon and Namjoon’s place to your chest.

‘Who else is going to be there?’ you ask.

‘Usually it’s Seokjin and me. Sometimes Gyuri comes.’

You think about that and wish, childishly, that you’d chosen a nicer outfit.

You realise Yoongi’s watching your face.

‘I appreciate you wanting to meet my friends,’ he says, carefully. 

‘Oh it’s about time I made an effort, don’t you think?’

Yoongi gives you a long look and rings the doorbell.

You’re greeted by a relaxed-looking Nayeon.

You don’t know her well, but she’s always struck you as nice. You feel an odd pang as you see the affectionate way Yoongi greets her.

Here’s a whole other aspect of his life you’ve never been involved in.

You volunteer to help Namjoon cook the rice. To your bemusement, he’s frighteningly accident-prone.

Within five minutes, you’ve saved him from putting his hand on a hot pan twice. You shudder when you see him pick up a knife to chop vegetables.

Nayeon nudges you. ‘Don’t worry. He’s not too bad. Someone always keeps an eye on him.’

‘Like a toddler,’ you mutter, then you remember where you are.

Nayeon just laughs. ‘I think of it as he’s still getting used to his size.’

You laugh. ‘Let’s hope he doesn’t get any bigger then.’

You look up as Seokjin enters the kitchen with Yoongi.

Your eyes meet Seokjin’s. He nods coolly at you.

You smile back.

To your surprise, Yoongi claps a hand on Seokjin’s back. 

‘Yah, Jin, greet my wife properly.’

Seokjin pulls Nayeon into a hug, then stops just in front of you. 

You put out a hand for him to shake, and instead, he pulls you into a hug too. 

You look up at him, a little wary.

‘Don’t you need your bodyguard?’ you ask, unable to resist.

Seokjin narrows his eyes at you. ‘I’m watching you, brat,’ he replies, so softly only you can hear.

‘And Yoongi’s watching you,’ you return, snarky.

Seokjin’s eyes darken. ‘Clearly Yoongi’s too soft on you, given your attitude.’

‘Break it up,’ Yoongi’s voice says from behind Seokjin.

You slide around Seokjin and stand next to Yoongi. When Yoongi turns to talk to Nayeon, you flip Seokjin the bird.

He glares daggers at you but has to quickly rearrange his expression when Yoongi and Nayeon ask him a question.

You’re so busy fielding all the interactions that it’s a relief to sit down to dinner.

Ah shit. 

There are prawns in the broth, the one thing in the world you’re allergic to.

It’s your own fault. Early on in your marriage, for reasons known only to you, you’d decided to let Yoongi think you were a snob about seafood rather than just telling him you were allergic. Cue a very uncomfortable dinner when you’d refused to eat anything one of his chef friends had cooked.

Seokjin, next to you, looks at your untouched bowl pointedly. ‘Don’t you like it?’ he asks, voice so velvety it’s not immediately obvious he’s jeering at you. 

You grit your teeth and pray the epi-pen in your bag is in date. 

It’ll probably be fine, unless you have a whole prawn….

As if on cue, Yoongi hands you a prawn he’s just peeled.

You’d always thought Yoongi would be the death of you, but you’d thought the mechanism would be from hate fucking you into oblivion, or irritating you into apoplexy.

Not a fucking prawn that he’s peeled for you because he’s decided to be a solicitous husband for once in his life.

You can feel a few eyes on you.

‘Oh that looks delicious,’ you chirrup brightly. You accept the prawn, swallow it quickly, wait a beat, then excuse yourself.

You grab your bag on the way to the bathroom, fumbling for your epi-pen. 

You jab it into your thigh just as the familiar tingling starts in your throat.

The door opens, and you’re faced with Yoongi, staring at you. 

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he hisses. 

He grabs the epi-pen you’ve just dropped on the floor. 

‘Are you shooting up in my friends’ house?’ he snaps.

You shake your head, voice raspy. 

‘I’m allergic to prawns.’

Yoongi stares at you like he can’t quite believe his ears. 

‘What?’

You want to repeat yourself but your voice is getting hoarser. 

Yoongi seems to click into action then. ‘Fuck. Do you need the hospital?’

You nod. 

Moving faster than you’ve ever seen him, Yoongi grabs your arm and hustles you out of the bathroom.

He scolds you all the way to the hospital.

‘You’re an idiot, you know that? Why would you eat something you know you’re this allergic to?’

Two blocks away. 

‘Why couldn’t you just tell me? Of all the stupid stunts you’ve pulled—‘

At the entrance of the emergency room.

‘If you die from this I’m going to follow you into the afterlife and kill you again.’

You’d snap back if he didn’t sound more worried than angry.

Yoongi sits beside your bed, filling in a form on a tablet with your details. You can see him typing in your name. 

You grab his arm. ‘Not my name,’ you rasp.

Yoongi frowns at you. You fumble in your bag and pass him your driver’s license.

He looks at it for a long moment. 

‘You changed your name? You said —-‘

He cuts himself off with visible effort. You can see a vein throbbing in his forehead.

He fills in the rest of the form, swearing softly under his breath. 

You close your eyes and lose yourself to nightmares about prawns.

When you wake up, Yoongi’s sitting by your bed.

You say his name.

He runs a hand over his face. ‘How are you feeling, princess?’

‘I’m fine. Can we go home?’

‘They want to keep you in a little longer.’

You sigh. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were allergic to prawns?’ Yoongi asks.

He sighs. ‘That time, with Mingyu, when he made us all that food. I thought you were being such a bitch.’

‘I am a bitch,’ you say. ‘I hated you back then. I hated our marriage and I hated that it felt like I didn’t have any choice in anything.’

‘And so you decide to die because I fucking peeled you a prawn?’

‘Why did you do that? You always say if you can’t peel a prawn you don’t deserve to eat it.’

‘Jesus fucking christ. I just wanted to.’

‘What a time to choose to be the doting husband,’ you say, regretfully.

Yoongi snorts with laughter. ‘Are you allergic to anything else I need to know about?’

‘Assholes,’ you mutter. ‘That’s why Seokjin and I don’t get along.’

Yoongi laughs again. ‘You’re such a rude brat. He won’t stop calling me. He wants to apologise for putting pressure on you to have the broth.’

‘Nayeon and Namjoon want to know if you’re ok, too.’

‘Tell them I’m fine.’ 

‘Here,’ Yoongi says. ‘I’ll add you to the group chat and you can tell them yourself.’

You send off a few texts and put your phone down.

‘I need to call my lawyer,’ Yoongi says, running a hand through his hair.

‘You’re divorcing me over a prawn allergy?’

‘No,’ says Yoongi, patient. ‘Now that I know your real name, I need to get it changed in my will and also on all the properties I’ve invested in for you.’

‘Ooh, I’m in your will?’ you ask, intrigued. ‘What do I get?’

‘None of your business,’ Yoongi says.

You wave a hand threateningly. ‘I could kill you right now and find out.’

Yoongi fends you off easily. ‘You should be resting.’

‘We could be arguing about this at home,’ you point out.

By the time you’re discharged from the hospital, it’s the early hours of the morning.

When you get home, you’re greeted by Mrs Gye. 

‘I took care of it,’ she tells Yoongi.

Yoongi nods and thanks her.

‘Took care of what?’

‘Mr Min rang earlier and told us to get rid of all the prawns in the kitchen and pantry,’ Mrs Gye says. She’s apologetic. ‘We didn’t know you were allergic, Mrs Min.’

You glance at Yoongi, who’s slipping off his shoes. 

‘You didn’t have to —‘

He cuts you off. ‘It’s a risk I’d prefer not to take again.’

He starts up the stairs, heading for his bedroom. ‘I’m going to try and get some sleep.’

You hurry after him, because he’s not waiting for you. 

***

You’re coming out of your meeting with the manager of the third country club you got Yoongi blacklisted from when you spot a familiar face.

A familiar, beautiful but unwanted face.

‘Seokjin,’ you say, nodding politely.

He leans down, and automatically you present your cheek to him for a kiss.

‘How are you doing?’ he asks, courteously.

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. ‘I’m fine. And yourself?’

To your astonishment, he actually seems to be a little shamefaced as he says, ‘I’m sorry I urged you to have the broth at Namjoon and Nayeon’s the other day.’

‘It’s fine, you couldn’t have known,’ you say, neutrally.

‘What are you doing here?’

It’s your turn to look repentant. 

‘I got Yoongi blacklisted from all the country clubs. I’m getting him re-invited to all of them.’

Seokjin’s gaze is penetrating. 

‘You seem like you’re really trying to make amends,’ he observes.

‘Yeah well, I was, like you keep pointing out to me, a brat.’

He’s been walking with you to the lobby. 

‘Can I offer you a lift anywhere?’ he asks. 

‘Ah, I’ll just wait for a cab.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘Doesn’t Yoongi have a driver?’ 

‘He does. I don’t.’ 

Seokjin nods to the car waiting for him. ‘Do you have other country clubs to go to?’

‘I have four left,’ you say. 

Seokjin looks at you in firm way he does. ‘Come on. I’ll take you.’

You climb into the back seat with Seokjin. 

‘You’re not taking me somewhere to murder me and dispose of my body, are you?’ you ask, only half-joking.

Seokjin settles back in his seat and loosens his tie. 

‘I’ve got the afternoon off, and I’d prefer not to commit murder during it,’ he says, not reassuringly. 

With Seokjin by your side, the next meeting is almost enjoyable. You even get offered champagne, which you gulp down.

Seokjin looks at you, amused. ‘Stressful day for you?’ 

‘You make me nervous,’ you admit. 

‘I just don’t want Yoongi to be hurt anymore.’

You digest the idea that Yoongi wasn’t just inconvenienced and embarrassed, but actually hurt by your actions of the last few years.

That would imply he cared.

You’re staring out the window, thinking, when Seokjin says. ‘Of course, he didn’t want to marry you either, at the beginning.’

You chew on your lip. 

‘But he was willing to make his best effort to be a good husband to you. He’s decent like that.’

You turn your head so Seokjin can’t see your face.

He’s not wrong. Yoongi’s never once retaliated for anything you’ve done to him. 

Instead he’d grown progressively more cold and impatient and distant.

The wave of guilt surprises you with its depth.

‘I’ll make it up to him,’ you say, quietly. 

Seokjin puts his hand on your arm so you’ll look at him.

‘He has a real soft spot for you,’ he tells you. ‘God knows why, I would have punished you long ago.’

You flick your eyes up at him. ‘Luckily I married a more forgiving man than you,’ you say, summoning your haughtiest tone.

Seokjin just laughs. ‘We both want the best for him,’ he says. ‘Maybe you’re not such a cold hearted bitch after all.’

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself. We aren’t friends,’ you sneer, out of habit.

Seokjin turns away and laughs quietly to himself.

At your next meeting, Seokjin gets whiskey served to you. 

You’re a total lightweight, and with your empty stomach, you know you’re heading to a danger zone.

But damn, it’s also intoxicating having polished, suave Seokjin by your side at these meetings with older men. 

It’s after your final meeting, three drinks later, that Seokjin says, ‘dinner?’

You hold on to his arm to steady yourself. 

‘Maybe we can have dinner at mine,’ you suggest. 

‘Great idea,’ Seokjin beams. ‘I love Mrs Gye’s cooking.’

You never actually make it inside the house. 

Yoongi finds you and Seokjin sprawled on the front steps, arguing about which country club offered the best membership package.

You slap a brochure onto the steps between you. 

‘This was clearly the best deal,’ you announce. You squint but it doesn’t make the words any clearer. 

Seokjin sweeps the brochure away dramatically. 

‘Wasn’t.’

‘Wassss.’

Yoongi says, dryly, ‘why do people who can’t handle their alcohol go drinking?’

Both you and Seokjin glare at each other, then at him.

Yoongi sighs. ‘I can’t carry both of you at once.’

‘Take the asshole first,’ you snap.

Seokjin leans towards you menacingly. ‘What did you call me?’

Yoongi hurriedly lifts you up under the arms, and you curl into his chest. 

‘Take me to bed, Yoongi,’ you say, looking up at him. 

‘You’re heavier than you look,’ Yoongi grunts.

‘It’s my brain,’ you say, trying be helpful. 

Seokjin snorts rudely behind you.

Yoongi says, voice low, rumbling in his chest, ‘ignore him.’

You press a kiss to Yoongi’s chest. ‘Sorry I’m so heavy.’

He smiles at you with that looks like affection. 

‘It’s fine. I’ll just drop you if it’s too much for me.’

Yoongi helps you into bed and unzips your dress. 

‘Can you do the rest so I can get Seokjin?’ he asks.

You nod, convincingly. You’re still trying to tug your arm out of the sleeve when you give up and pass out.

Yoongi helps Seokjin into your bed and returns to his room to find you sprawled exactly where he left you, half undressed.

He slips your dress off you. You crack an eye open.

‘Yoongi,’ you say, whiny.

Yoongi replies, ‘yes?’

‘I just want you to like me,’ you say. For a moment you look completely lucid, and sad.

His heart gives a dangerous jolt then, like somehow, you’ve worked your way into it. Like a household pest.

Yoongi can’t bear the thought of exterminating you.

‘Stop being so annoying then,’ Yoongi says, trying to be stern but it comes out weak. He’s not even convincing himself at this point.

You put your hand over your heart. ‘I’ll try my best,’ you promise.

***

At breakfast, Yoongi frowns at his phone. 

‘Why am I getting invited to become a member of every country club in the vicinity?’

Seokjin, dressed in Yoongi’s clothes, mumbles something unintelligible into his cereal.

You look up from your pancakes and through your sunglasses at your husband.

‘I got you blacklisted from every single country club in the area when we first got married, so I spent yesterday getting you reinvited.’

You point your fork at Seokjin and say, grudgingly, ‘Seokjin helped.’

Seokjin sips his juice. 

‘Why did we drink so much?’ he asks.

‘You’re the one that kept asking for drinks,’ you point out.

Yoongi holds up a hand between you to break you up.

‘Why?’ he asks.

‘I’m making up for being awful to you,’ you tell him.

Yoongi frowns. ‘Is that why you’ve been so erratic lately?’

You’re offended. ‘I’m not erratic.’

‘Taking me to that basketball game? Buying me at the auction? Dinner at Namjoon and Nayeon’s?’ Yoongi asks.

‘Riding you in the shower yesterday,’ you add.

Seokjin covers his ears.

‘I’m being nice,’ you say.

Yoongi says, ‘I appreciate your efforts, but you don’t have to make anything up to me.’

‘She does,’ Seokjin interjects.

You toss a pancake at him. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes.

‘We’ll talk later,’ he says to you.

‘I don’t know why he’s still here,’ you say to Yoongi, like Seokjin’s not in the room.

Yoongi pushes your coffee towards you. ‘Drink. Finish your breakfast. Seokjin and I have a meeting to get to. Let’s talk later.’

‘I have a surprise for you tonight,’ you say, remembering.

Yoongi leans down to kiss your cheek.

‘I don’t like surprises.’

‘You’ll like this one,’ you promise. 

***

You once sent a troupe of strippers to put on a show at an important business meeting Yoongi had organised with a notoriously conservative client.

The deal had fallen through despite months of preparation and expense.

It was then that Yoongi had finally snapped and called you a cold hearted bitch for the first time.

You’d thought long and hard about how to make this up to him, and you don’t know enough about his company to source an equivalent deal.

You’re hoping dancing for him in the red teddy he got you will help.

You’re not a bad dancer, and you’ve been taking lessons for weeks, enough that you’re pretty confident you can pull it off.

You’ve hired a room in an underground sex club, hoping the gritty feel will add to the thrill of it.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows when you lead him through the private entrance off the street, down a flight of stairs, to a darkened corridor.

You lift the keycard out of your thigh-high stockings and unlock the door. 

You’d shared a bottle of wine at dinner, and you’re feeling good.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room, like you’d specified. The lights are off apart from a blue glow. It’s dark enough to lend a sense of intimacy, but light enough that you can see Yoongi’s gorgeous face clearly.

God, your husband looks beautiful tonight, all in black, his lips stained from the wine.

He leans back on the chair, legs spread, watching you.

The one thing you’ve always liked about Yoongi that he knows when to keep his mouth shut.

His lips part as you turn in front of him and unzip your dress. It puddles on the floor in a shimmering heap.

You hit play on the music and start dancing.

Yoongi’s gaze focuses intensely on you as you dance for him. You put your legs on his thighs, pushing them apart to make space for yourself as you shimmy between them.

Your ass brushes his crotch, deliberately, lingering longer and longer with each pass until you’re grinding against him.

Yoongi, like a seasoned strip club connoisseur, keeps his hands to himself, braced on his thighs.

You turn so you’re facing him, leaning forward to encourage him to look down the top of your silky teddy. Your nipples are stiff, pushing against the silk, and you put two fingers in his mouth.

He needs no prompting, sucking on your fingers, tongue delving between them suggestively.

You put a hand on his shoulder and run your wet fingers over your nipples. 

Yoongi grunts, eyes fixed on your tits.

You slide your hand down between your legs and lean over him to whisper in his ear.

‘I’m imagining your fingers here, Yoongi,’ you purr, gratified by how you can see his skin prickling with goosebumps.

Yoongi licks his lips. His voice, when it comes out, is so deep you’re wet just listening to him.

‘You know you really fuck me off sometimes,’ he says. 

For the first time since you started dancing for him, you falter.

You look at him uncertainly. 

His hand comes out, landing on your silk-covered hip, long fingers splaying over your ass.

‘I think it’s your face,’ he muses, almost like he’s talking to himself. ‘Your face is so fucking bratty I want to shove my dick in your mouth just to shut you up.’

He pulls you down so you’re sitting in his lap, straddling him. 

He cups your jaw, pulling your face closer to his. His thumb traces over your bottom lip, teasing at the seam of your lips until your lips part enough for him to slip his thumb in.

Automatically, you suck. 

‘There,’ Yoongi says. ‘You always look so pretty with me in your mouth.’

You can’t help yourself. You whimper around his thumb.

‘I like this even more though,’ he says. 

Eyes on you, he moves his hand down your hip, cupping you between your legs, parted on his lap.

Like this, you’re spread out on top of him.

Yoongi hisses as he feels how slick you are. He teases at your clit, one finger slipping into you.

You say his name. God, he feels good.

He curls his finger, and you whimper again.

‘Your little pussy knows it belongs to me,’ he says, almost conversational, as he strokes your clit.

He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your breast as he fingers you, tongue laving the red silk.

You slip a strap down your shoulder so your breast is exposed, nipple taut for him.

‘Do it properly, Yoongi,’ you whine.

Yoongi laughs darkly. ‘Where’s your manners, baby?’

Your mouth snaps closed, lips thinning into a straight line. Your eyes flash at him.

Yoongi’s looking at you. 

‘There you are,’ he says, but oddly, there’s affection in his voice. 

He tilts his head to slant his mouth over yours in a slow kiss at the same time his fingers start scissoring inside you.

He smells so good. He pulls away and leans his forehead against yours. 

‘I kiss you all the time, brat, how could you say we skip straight to the fucking?’

You’re hazy with pleasure, his fingers haven’t stopped moving inside you, and he always seems to go unerringly to the spot that makes you cry out his name and beg for more.

You’re begging now. 

‘Yoongi,’ you moan. 

‘Who fucks you like this, brat?’ he hisses.

‘You,’ you answer, ‘please, Yoongi.’

‘That’s right,’ he says. ‘That’s fucking right.’

You’re grinding against his hand now, each movement making you flutter around his fingers. You’re so close you can taste it, chasing your high.

Yoongi pulls his fingers out, and you cry out. 

‘Yoongi!’

‘Cum on my cock, let me feel you.’

You fumble with the zipper on his pants, and he hisses as you draw him out. 

He grabs your hips and sinks you down onto his cock.

Fuck, he’s so thick and hot you could cum even if he stayed perfectly still.

Yoongi shudders. ‘Fuck. Fuck. Feel me, baby? You get me so hard for you it hurts.’

Your eyes are squeezed shut, concentrating on the feel of him.

‘So fucking tight for me, shit.’

You’re already starting to tighten around his cock when he slaps your thigh. ‘Go on, this is what you wanted isn’t it? Fucking take it, baby.’

His voice is low, slurred, pupils blown all the way.

He’s rude as fuck, and you’re about to cum your brains out thinking about it.

Only Min Yoongi could do this to you.

He knows it. His breathing is ragged, but he somehow has the presence of mind to say, ‘fuck. Does my baby want tenderness too?’

His lips press against yours, he slides his tongue into your mouth, and he cradles the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

‘Fucking cum for me,’ he murmurs. 

You slam your hips against his again, and finally, finally, you cum.

You curl into his chest, and he’s there, mouth on your hair. 

‘You did so well,’ he tells you. ‘Waving that ass in the air for me, shit. Wearing this. You’re gonna need to do this again.’

‘I want to be good for you,’ you say.

Yoongi tilts your face so you’ll look at him.

‘Why? I’m a cold bastard most of the time.’

‘You have a nice cock,’ you offer.

Yoongi laughs. ‘You can have my cock anytime. It’s all yours.’

‘Oh are we exclusive now?’ you tease.

‘I’m wearing your ring around my finger,’ Yoongi reminds you, showing you his hand. 

You tilt your head, pretending to think about it.

‘I’ll get you another ring to put around your cock.’

Yoongi grins and slaps your ass, gently. ‘Come on, get dressed. I want to get into bed with you. It’s my favourite part of the day.’

You want to ask if he really means that, but he’s already opening the door. 

***

Yoongi looks pretty sexy when he’s concentrating, you decide. 

You’ve graduated from sleeping together to also spending time together in his study sometimes in the evenings.

You’re trying to concentrate on reading a brief your social media manager prepared for you, but really your husband who isn’t doing anything other than frowning at his work, is distracting you.

Yoongi glances at you. ‘Need help with anything?’

You hum. 

He walks around his desk to stand next to you. 

‘What are you working on?’

You show him your brief. ‘Just prepping for a meeting tomorrow.’

Yoongi looks like he’s concentrating again, reading over your shoulder.

‘I’ve got it, Yoongi,’ you tell him.

He glances at you. 

‘I didn’t say you didn’t.’

You try to ignore the flare of irritation as Yoongi walks back to his desk.

You know Yoongi has a sharp intellect and great business instincts. He’s earned every bit of his impressive reputation.

You’d be a fool to turn down his help.

Maybe you are a fool. But you don’t want him to see you as the impulsive devil-may-care hellion he married. You want to show him that you, too, have earned your right for respect in your role.

You chew on that for a bit, and finally, sighing, give up and go to bed.

You guess it’s going to take a bit longer to change Yoongi’s perception of you.

***

You got up to a lot of shenanigans on your honeymoon with Yoongi. 

You were drunk for a lot of it, so you don’t remember much, but the bits you do remember are all bad.

You’d started drinking on the plane and spent the first night throwing up in the hotel bathroom.

And the second. Possibly the third.

You’d straight up disappeared after breakfast one day and had spent a day wandering the city on your own.

You’d also refused to sleep with him, claiming you were being treated for gonorrhoea. You’d accused him of giving it to you, which was how you’d ended up getting your hands on his test results to send to his company.

At least this is an easy thing to make up to Yoongi.

You couldn’t possibly make it a worse experience.

You’ve organised a weekend away with him, in a rustic little cabin by the lakes.

It works on many levels. The cabin’s a fair drive away, which means you get to watch your husband drive sexily. You think Yoongi likes nature, and you envisage doing a bit of paddling, maybe some fishing. 

Also, the isolation of the cabin means you won’t get any noise complaints, important because you intend on fucking Yoongi constantly this weekend.

You’re still congratulating yourself on your genius when Yoongi wakes up the morning you’re due to leave.

You’ve been awake for hours.

The smile you turn on him is so bright he grimaces.

Ah. You keep forgetting he’s not a morning person. Also you have no idea what time he got in last night.

You scurry out of bed to grab him a coffee and promptly trip over his slippers.

Yoongi swears behind you. ‘Why do you keep falling over my slippers? They’re in the same place every time.’

‘Maybe you shouldn’t leave them there,’ you retort, hurt. 

Then you remember you’re on your best behaviour. 

You bite your tongue and go to grab him a coffee. 

When you get back, he’s on his back, staring at the ceiling. 

‘Got you coffee,’ you say, holding out his mug.

He accepts with a gravelly ‘thanks.’

You’re brushing your teeth when he says, ‘there’s been a supply problem with the new line we’re launching. I may need to spend time this weekend on the phone.’ 

‘That’s fine,’ you say, brightly. You’re determined not to let anything mar your new honeymoon weekend.

Yoongi says, gently, ‘is there any way we could reschedule?’

You stare at him. ‘Do you not want to go?’ 

The words are out before you get a chance to think them over. You could kick yourself at the neediness in your tone.

Yoongi says, ‘of course I want to go, I just don’t want you to be disappointed.’

You’re starting to wonder if he’s trying to tell you he doesn’t want to go. 

‘I won’t be disappointed,’ you say, watching his face carefully.

Yoongi smiles at you. ‘Then let’s set off after breakfast.’

Yoongi’s quiet as he’s driving, and you notice how tired he looks. You’re just about to suggest he pulls over to let you drive when he says, ‘something on my face?’

‘You look tired,’ you say. 

‘I am tired,’ he tells you. He smiles at you, faintly. ‘This upcoming collaboration with Novatech will be the biggest, most high-stakes project I’ve started since I took over from my father. I can’t afford for it to fail.’

‘Why would it fail?’ you ask.

‘There are a lot of moving parts,’ Yoongi says, vaguely.

‘I’m sure it’ll be a roaring success,’ you say, faith firmly in your capable, successful husband.

Yoongi says, ‘just don’t try to sabotage me.’

You say, earnestly, ‘those days are behind me.’

‘It’s a shame,’ Yoongi says, ‘I’m going to miss spanking you for misbehaving.’

That reminds you. 

‘You can spank me anytime,’ you tell Yoongi. ‘Also, check out these new panties I bought.’

Yoongi glances at you and nearly swerves off the road.

‘Are you wearing crotchless panties?’ he asks, and he looks intrigued and flustered all at once.

‘It’s called an ouvert,’ you explain. ‘That’s French for open.’

Yoongi mutters something to himself you don’t quite catch.

‘What did you say?’ you ask, sweet as pie.

‘I said, your fucking pussy is going to kill me,’ Yoongi says. 

He gives you a half smile, lazy, devastating. 

‘I can’t think of a better way to go.’

***

Yoongi’s phone rings the moment you step into the cabin.

You wonder if you should have plumped for somewhere more rustic with no cell reception.

You unpack half-heartedly, watching from the window as he paces around outside the cabin.

He rubs a hand over his forehead, looking more stressed and tired than you’ve ever seen him.

Maybe he’s been stressed like this before but you haven’t been paying attention.

You come out to bring him a glass of water.

He smiles at you, still on his phone.  

You flash him your ass and glance back to see if he’s watching. 

He isn’t.

When Yoongi’s done on the phone you grab him. 

‘Want to go for a walk? I’ll protect you from the wolves.’

‘I am the wolf,’ Yoongi says, but it’s half hearted.

‘Hey, why don’t you take a break. I’ll rub your back.’

Yoongi perks up at your suggestion, and it’s the most animated you’ve seen him all day.

You get him to lay on the bed just in his briefs.

You wonder if you’ll ever get used to how beautiful his body is.

You put your hands on his shoulders and knead, and his deep groan makes you feel good in so many ways.

You can feel Yoongi’s muscles relax as you massage over his shoulders and down his back. When you get to his legs he twitches a little like he’s falling asleep.

By the time you get to his feet he’s dead asleep.

You cover him with a blanket and a kiss and head out for a walk.

When you get back he’s still asleep, so you make a space for yourself next to him and join him.

You’re awakened by Yoongi’s hand on your shoulder. 

‘Hey, I made dinner for us.’

You blink, disoriented. ‘What time is it?’

‘It’s late. Come on. We’ll sleep better when we’re full.’

Yoongi’s made ram-don. You sigh happily as you sit down in front of the steaming bowl. Instead of sitting across from you, Yoongi slides in next to you.

His thigh nudges yours. He puts his free hand on your thigh. 

You look at him curiously.

Yoongi says, ‘eat.’

The noodles are delicious, but you find you’re enjoying Yoongi’s hand on your thigh just as much. 

You put your hand on his, and smile at him as he knits your fingers together. 

It’s sweet, and silly, and something you wouldn’t expect from your normally brisk, impatient husband.

Yoongi watches you finish your noodles, enjoying the warmth of your thigh and hand. He shifts a little, because he’s quite sure he shouldn’t have a raging hard-on from doing something as innocent as holding your hand.

You’re smiling at him so happily. If Yoongi’d known that holding your hand would be enough to make you smile like that he’d have tried to hold hands with you this whole time.

You’re finished with your late dinner. Yoongi stops you when you get up to start clearing up.

‘Let me do it. Why don’t we watch a movie? You set it up and I’ll clear up here.’

By the time Yoongi finishes clearing up, you’re ensconced on the couch, so covered in blankets he can barely see you. The lights are low, the TV on playing some movie Yoongi knows he’s not going to get into. 

He’d rather watch you.

He slides in next to you and holds out his arm.

You look at him like you’ve never been invited to snuggle before.

To be fair, Yoongi doesn’t think you’ve ever done this together.

He lowers his arm like he’s changed his mind, and you’re next to him so quickly he has to bite back a smile.

You rest your head in the curve between his neck and shoulder, cheek on his chest.

Your hand flutters over his torso, finally landing on his stomach. You turn in, nose against his chest, breathing him in.

It’s adorable. You’re adorable.

Yoongi wants to fight dragons for you. 

He leans down and sniffs your hair as quietly as he can. 

Your breathing is easy, slow, and Yoongi realises you’ve fallen asleep when you go boneless in his arms. 

He wonders if you know how much he’s prepared to do for you if you ever asked.

Part 2

©hamsterclaw 2022

stand by me

pairing: reader x yoongi

anonymous requested: “could you do some min yoongi fluff with stand by me by ben e king?”

summary: yoongi becomes your knight in black leather.

genre: slight angst; fluff;

soundtrack: stand by me—bene e. king

content/warnings: childhood friends to strangers to friends again; gang!au; biker!yoongi/ cat calling; sexual harassment.  

a/n: I’m sure you weren’t expecting bikergang!yoongi for this request lol but that’s where my brain went I’m sorry lol. I hope it’s still cute for you ♡ 

word count: 1.5k

♪ No, I won’t be afraid. Oh, I won’t be afraid. Just as long as you stand, stand by me ♪

Five minutes into your walk home and you already regretted the decision.

Girls night had started to turn into girls morning, and you weren’t exactly in the mood to stay out. Not wanting to ruin their fun, you bid your friends goodnight and made your way home. At first, you weren’t concerned about walking by yourself; The bar was only a couple blocks from your highrise apartment, and you’d be home in no time—fifteen minutes tops.

But now that you were alone with a cat-caller on your trail, you thought you should never have left in the first place. The man eyeing you from across the street put a shiver down your spine.

“Where you going, baby?”

Keep reading

---

Vows (Part 2)

aka 10 ways to win your husband's heart: an arranged marriage AU

You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

Pairing: Yoongi x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Arranged marriage, e2l, smut, angst

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Sex and swearing

Read part 1 here.

Nara puts a slice of sashimi on your plate.

‘How’s making up with your husband going?’ she asks.

You shrug. ‘I’ve got five things left to do.’

‘Five?’ Nara asks. ‘Surely he’s already soft for you? Why do you even have to do any more things?’

‘It’s not about making him soft for me. It’s making up for all the things I did to him.’

‘Is he even asking you to do any of this?’

‘He never asks for anything,’ you say. 

‘Figures. I’ve always pegged him as the strong silent type.’

You don’t think it’s that, though. Yoongi has no problem being vocal when it comes to telling you off. 

You think Nara has a point.

‘Maybe I’ll just ask him what he wants.’

You can’t believe that Yoongi would ever ask you for anything, but it’s worth a shot.

***

You stare at your husband over the dining table in disbelief. 

‘A month?’

‘You asked,’ Yoongi says, shrugging.

‘No. I never did anything that bad.’

Yoongi just picks up another dumpling and pops it in his mouth, chewing nonchalantly.

‘You asked how you could make things up to me. Do everything I say for a month and we’ll have a clean slate.’

‘I’ll do everything you say for a day,’ you bargain.

‘A week,’ counters Yoongi. 

‘It’ll probably just be sex things,’ you mutter to yourself.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. ‘And you wouldn’t enjoy that?’

You bite your lip. ‘A weekend?’ you offer.

Yoongi considers this. 

He puts out his hand. 

You shake it.

***

It’s your weekend of enforced subservience to Yoongi. You’ve been subtly prying all week, trying to get a hint of what he’s got planned, but your husband’s been a closed book.

Well, as closed off as he normally is.

Although he’s been more open lately. You think of the night in the cabin you fell asleep in his arms and woke up to him stroking your hair.

You think your husband’s starting to warm towards you. 

He even gave you a kiss yesterday morning on his way out.

Beside you, Yoongi turns over. ‘Morning, princess.’

You never thought you’d enjoy being called princess but it’s different when Min Yoongi’s saying it in his gravelly, early morning voice.

‘Morning,’ you say.

Yoongi lays on his back, running a hand through his hair. ‘I was thinking, I call you all sorts of things, but you don’t call me anything.’

‘You mean, like, baby?’ you ask.

Yoongi laughs. ‘Am I a baby?’

You can’t think of anyone less baby-like than your confident, capable husband.

‘You’re more of an oppa,’ you say, honestly. ‘Or a daddy.’

Yoongi props himself up on one arm. ‘Not sure about daddy but I could probably get behind oppa.’

‘Noted,’ you say cheerfully. You sit up, and Yoongi holds you back as you swing your legs onto the floor.

He sweeps his slippers out of the way with his arm.

‘Don’t trip,’ he orders. 

‘Yes oppa,’ you say, half joking.

Yoongi laughs. ‘Maybe we should save it for when we’re in bed together.’

‘I like Yoongi,’ you tell him, heading for his bathroom. ‘Two syllables is nice to wrap my tongue round.’

‘I have something else you can wrap your tongue round,’ Yoongi says. 

You laugh and pull your t-shirt, well, Yoongi’s t-shirt, over your head. 

You pause just before you step into the shower. ‘Wait, was that an order?’

Yoongi’s already brushing his teeth. ‘I won’t order you to do any sex things with me. I’d rather you begged for it.’

‘I have another ouvert,’ you say, turning the shower on.

‘Wear it,’ Yoongi says instantly. 

You both laugh. 

‘Yes, sir,’ you say.

Yoongi cocks his head to one side. ‘Sir,’ he says, considering.

You lather up your hair. 

‘No way.’

***

At breakfast Yoongi says you’re going to visit his grandmother. 

It’s not at all what you were expecting. 

You like Yoongi’s family, and you think they like you too. His grandmother’s always been warm towards you.

‘I like visiting your family,’ you say.

Yoongi glances at you. ‘Did you think I was going to make you do things you don’t want to?’

‘I’ll be honest, I thought anal was on the agenda.’

Yoongi scoffs. ‘Like I said, I won’t make you do anything sexual. You’ll have to beg for it.’

‘I’ll never beg,’ you say, just out of defiance. You’re perfectly aware Yoongi’s brought you to the point to begging in the past.

Yoongi’s expression shows he knows it as well as you do.

‘My grandmother’s having a family get together today. Most of my family will be there.’

‘Sounds lovely,’ you say, enthusiastically. 

You love Yoongi’s nieces and nephews.

Yoongi says, ‘they’re expecting us for lunch.’

‘One dutiful, pliant, obedient wife coming up,’ you reply.

Yoongi shakes his head. ‘Not too pliant, they’ll think you’re being sarcastic.’

‘Yes oppa.’

Yoongi scoffs, but you see the way his lips twitch as he turns away.

***

Ah shit.

You’d forgotten about Yoongi’s cousin. 

Yoonseok and Yoongi have always been competitive, from what you can glean.

They grew up together, but took wildly different paths. 

Yoongi, as the eldest son of the eldest brother, was always set to take over the company.

Yoonseok, with a similar drive and ambition but a different set of talents, became a professional basketball player.

You’ve always had a thing for athletes, the man you dated on and off before you married Yoongi was a football player.

Fresh out of your whirlwind marriage to your aloof, distant husband, you’d turned your attentions to flirting outrageously with Yoonseok in front of Yoongi.

You’d initially wanted to just get a reaction out of Yoongi, but as he’d shown no discernible reaction, your antics, encouraged by Yoonseok, had got progressively more outrageous.

You have a vague memory of cavorting in a tiny bikini in the pool of Min family home with a shirtless Yoonseok. Also of grinding drunkenly with Yoonseok at a family wedding anniversary. 

You cringe at the memory. 

Yoonseok approaches you when Yoongi’s drafted to help with the barbecue.

‘Hey, Y/N,’ he says.

You’re not going to lie, Yoonseok’s stunning, all muscles and height, but for the first time, you’re left cold. 

He’s not a patch on your grumpy husband.

‘Hey, how’ve you been?’ you ask, politely.

‘Great,’ he says, smiling warmly at you. 

He takes the tray you’re holding out of your hands, and you realise there’s another opportunity to make something up to Yoongi. 

You’d planned to do it at his parents’ wedding anniversary next month, but you can do it right now. 

You’ve always been a fan of ruthless efficiency. 

‘Hey, Yoonseok,’ you say, putting your hand on his arm. 

His gaze falls to your hand, and you take it away hurriedly. 

‘I’m trying to make up for all the things I’ve done to Yoongi, and this —’ you gesture between you and him, ‘is right up there.’ 

‘You’re gonna need to be more specific,’ Yoonseok says, the bastard. 

You guess being a gorgeous asshole runs in the family. 

You look up at him. Damn. He’s really going to make you say it. 

You say, voice as flat as possible, ‘flirting with you every chance I got.’ 

Your timing couldn’t be worse. Yoongi walks into the kitchen to see you and Yoonseok, and in time to hear your sentence. 

He looks at both of you carefully. 

‘I was just saying to Yoonseok that I’m trying to make up for all the outrageous things I did in the early days of our marriage,’ you say to Yoongi. 

Yoongi’s face is expressionless. 

‘Like flirting with a bunch of men I really had no interest in,’ you finish, determined. 

‘Ouch,’ says Yoonseok. 

You feel like dumping the entire tray over his gorgeous head. 

‘Ah,’ says Yoongi. 

You stand between the monosyllabic Min men awkwardly, then decide there’s no salvaging this. 

‘I should — ‘ 

You’re out the door without finishing your sentence. 

Yoongi says barely anything to you at the meal, and for once, Yoonseok doesn’t try to sit next to you. 

When Yoongi’s nephew Junho suggests a game of ultimate frisbee you’re the first to volunteer. 

Thankfully you’re dressed appropriately enough to get dirty. 

Ah shit. 

There’s enough of you to play three-a-side, and somehow you end up on Yoongi’s team with Junho. 

You consider protesting over Yoonseok, a professional athlete, being allowed to play, but seeing as he’s paired with twin ten year olds, Sana and Mina, you think you can probably let it slide. 

Yoongi and Junho are discussing strategy, and you pretend to listen. 

‘Got it?’ asks Yoongi, looking at you sternly. 

You think you’re less of a liability than nine year old Junho but you nod meekly anyway. 

The game starts easily enough, you quickly work out that Junho’s quick and Sana’s highly competitive. 

Yoongi snaps the frisbee to you, and you catch it, tossing it to Junho. 

Yoonseok plows into Yoongi for no discernible reason. 

You’re about to run to him when Yoongi jumps up and into him. 

You hadn’t realise Yoongi was so quick. 

No one acknowledges the goal you score when you run into the end zone and Junho tosses the frisbee back to you. 

Sana and Mina score a goal whilst Yoongi and Yoonseok continue to wrestle. 

You consider getting involved as the only other adult present, but Yoongi looks kind of hot like this, teeth gritted, sweaty, panting. 

Also, he hasn’t looked at you once, arms trembling with the effort of holding Yoonseok down.

Mina intercepts a careless pass from Junho, and she scores another goal. 

Junho yells, ‘Come on, we got this!’ 

You’re torn between not letting down your 9 year old teammate and feeling a little worried and a lot horny for your sweaty, intense husband. 

Junho throws another careless pass, and the frisbee thwacks Yoonseok on the head. 

He turns to look at you, incredulous. 

Now you’re torn between selling out your 9 year old teammate and being mown down by a sweaty-ass man built like a brick wall. 

‘RUN!’ you shout. You grab Junho’s hand and, no questions asked, he runs with you. 

You can hear that you’re being pursued, but you don’t dare turn. 

You can hear Yoongi’s low voice. ‘Come back, motherfucker!’ he hisses. 

Ah shit. Ah shit. 

Junho trips and you turn, fully expecting to be mown down by Yoonseok. 

Instead, you see Yoongi starfishing on top of Yoonseok. 

‘Get off!’

‘Make me,’ Yoongi grunts. 

Shit. Again, you think how fucking hot Yoongi is when he’s angry. 

Junho turns over, and at first you think he’s injured, and then you realise he’s laughing. 

‘Motherfucker!’ he yells. 

You, Yoongi and Yoonseok freeze. 

‘Damn,’ Yoonseok says, smug. ‘Good luck explaining that to halmeoni.’ 

***

Yoongi steps out of the shower, towel around his waist.

You’re already showered, lounging on the bed in a silky slip. 

He barely raises an eyebrow at you. 

‘Are you going to give me the silent treatment all weekend?’ you ask. ‘How are you going to get me to do what you want if you won’t talk to me?’ 

Yoongi towels his hair, and you stop him. 

‘Sit, let me dry your hair.’ 

He’s been growing his hair out lately. It suits him. 

You grab a frizz-tamer from the toiletries you’ve been gradually moving into Yoongi’s bedroom and pump some into your hand. 

Yoongi sits, quietly, looking at you in the mirror whilst you dry his hair. 

‘There,’ you say, when you’re finished. 

You’ve styled his hair away from his forehead, it’s a look you love on him. 

‘I’m just going to bed,’ Yoongi says. 

‘Am I going to bed with you?’ you ask. 

Yoongi sighs. ‘I’d never kick you out of bed,’ he tells you. 

‘Not even if I —’ you fall silent as you click through all the things you’ve done to Yoongi over the last five years and realise you’ve done all the worst things you can think of already. 

Yoongi looks at you. It feels a little bit like he’s waiting for something. 

‘I’m sorry for being such a terrible person,’ you offer. 

‘I’m sorry for not being the husband you wanted,’ Yoongi says. 

‘Damn, I should have said that. Can I change my apology?’ 

Yoongi gives you a half-smile. He starts to stand, and you reach out and tug his towel. The two sides come apart, and you kneel between his legs. 

‘Please,’ you say, looking up at him. 

Yoongi strokes your hair away from your face. ‘I’m always thinking about this,’ he says. 

‘Me sucking your cock?’ you ask, kissing your way up his thigh. 

‘You and me,’ he replies. 

He hardens as you lick along his cock. You curl your fingers around him and put him in your mouth.

Soon, he’s hard enough to push against the roof of your mouth. 

You lick a stripe along the underside of his cock, and he hardens even more. 

‘You like this, oppa?’ 

‘I like it, jagiya.’ 

Yoongi’s cock is beautiful when it’s fully hard -- perfectly straight, veiny and thick enough to make you gasp when he first enters you, no matter how many times you’ve had him. 

He seems to know how much you like the stretch as he pushes into you, he’s always slow about it, teasing at your entrance, pushing in slowly until you’re writhing under him. 

He leads you onto the bed now, somehow hitting the lights as he goes because he knows you like it when it’s dark. 

You get on your hands and knees for him, poised at the end of the bed. 

You can hear him approach you. He puts a hand on your bare ass, groans and slides his hand up your naked back.

‘Always so quick to get naked for me, princess,’ he says.

‘I love being naked for you, daddy.’

His hand stops on your hip. 

‘Yeah sorry oppa I was just trying it out.’

Yoongi laughs and slides a finger down your slit, pushing your thighs apart.

‘When you’re wet and naked like this, baby, you can call me anything you want.’

‘I want to call you Yoongi,’ you tell him. 

You can feel the head of his cock against your cunt. 

He slips in, and you moan.

His hand splays across the curve of your spine, angling you for him.

‘You’re always so perfect for me,’ he says. He kisses your back, following the line of your spine. 

His hands come around to cup your breasts, toying with your nipples. You cry out as he pinches.

‘Yoongi!’

He shoves his hips against your ass. ‘I’m here,’ he tells you. 

You put your hand on his, over your breast. Yoongi stops, and then he pulls out, flipping you over on the bed.

‘Look at me,’ he says. You look up at him as he enters you again.

He knits his fingers through yours, holding your hand as he rocks into you. 

His lips meet yours in a slow, tender kiss. He slides all the way into you, until his cock feels so deep you don’t know where he ends and you begin.

He stays still like that, hard and heavy within you, as he kisses your lips, your cheeks, your eyes.

It feels like he’s loving you more than he’s fucking you.

‘Are you ok, baby?’ he asks, and he sounds so tender you feel a surge of emotion. You haven’t got the headspace to unpick it right now.

So you nod and smile up at him. ‘I’m good, Yoongi.’

He smiles back. 

‘You’re so soft, like this.’

You shift your hips. ‘You’re very hard,’ you observe, grinning.

He thrusts, once, and you moan.

‘Don’t stop,’ you say. 

You can feel his cock jerk at the pleading in your voice.

He lifts your leg to his shoulder, and you both moan at the change in position.

Yoongi turns his head to kiss your calf as he starts moving again. 

You’re so wet now you can hear yourself over the slap of his skin on yours.

His lips seek yours again, swallowing your cries as you pulse around his cock. He shudders and you feel his warmth fill you.

You pull him down on top of you in a tangle of limbs and sweaty skin, and you’ve never felt so complete.

***

You’ve planned out the final three stages of your plan to make things up to Yoongi with laser precision.

Well, as precise as you’re capable of being.

You meet Yoongi for lunch sometimes these days, and today you’ve taken the afternoon off because you know he’s playing tennis with Seokjin after lunch.

In the first couple of years after you got married, Yoongi had forgone his driver and driven you around in his car, a vintage sports car he’d seemed to like. 

You’d had it sold to a classic car collector and used the money to buy him a completely different car, the antithesis of the car he’d had. It was flashy, and brand new, and soulless. 

You still remember the way his jaw clenched when you presented it to him. 

You hope today goes better. You’d tracked down the collector you’d sold Yoongi’s original car to and repurchased it from him.

Thankfully, it still seems to be in perfect condition. Namjoon had a friend check it over for you.

You can’t wait to see Yoongi’s face when he sees it.

Yoongi smiles at you as he parks up in your driveway. ‘Why are you so excited?’

‘I have a surprise for you,’ you tell him. ‘It’s —-‘

His phone rings and he murmurs a quick ‘sorry’ before answering.

You fidget impatiently in your seat as he talks. You pick up that he sounds tense, irritated.

Yoongi hangs up and turns to you. ‘I need to go back to the office, baby.’

‘Sure, of course. Want me to drive you?’ 

‘You should probably just get lunch. I might be back late.’

‘Sure.’ You lean over and give Yoongi a kiss and hop out of the car.

You wave at him as he drives off, but you’re not sure he sees you.

***

Yoongi ended up coming home after you fell asleep, and he was gone by the time you woke up, so you’re not sure if he saw his new car.

You’re in your office replying to emails when Mr Jee, your boss and one of the directors, a good friend of your father’s, knocks at the door.

‘Congratulations,’ he says.

For one wild moment you wonder if he’s congratulating you on reaching the last two stages of your plan to atone for your past sins with Yoongi.

‘For what?’ you ask.

‘For reaching all the milestones on the Juno launch,’ he says.

Juno is a new service you’d launched a few months ago, a food delivery service with a USP of being able to order from multiple places at once.

It’s doing better than all projections, you’re pretty proud of it and your team for seeing it through.

‘You’re getting an award at the company dinner next week,’ Mr Jee says, smiling kindly at you. 

‘Does it come with a raise?’ you ask, because you aren’t your father’s daughter for nothing.

Mr Jee nods, serious. ‘Come see me in my office in the morning and we’ll talk about it.’

As soon as he leaves you pick up the phone to call Nara and tell her, and it occurs to you for the first time that Yoongi might be interested too.

Impulsively, you call him. 

He answers on the second ring. ‘Are you ok?’ He asks.

He sounds worried.

‘I’m fine,’ you say. ‘I just —‘

‘Before I forget, I saw the car.’

You forget your own news temporarily.

‘Do you like it?’

‘I love it. Thank you, baby. Maybe we can take it for a spin once this Novatech thing is over.’

‘Love to,’ you say, immediately.

Yoongi says, ‘ah, sorry. I need to go. I’ll be back late, hopefully see you at breakfast tomorrow?’

‘Yeah, see you, Yoongi.’

You’ve hung up before you remember you didn’t tell him your news.

***

Nara’s pulled some strings at her publishing company to help you with your penultimate task.

To make up for sending Yoongi’s STI screen to his entire company, you’ve managed to get him to be featured in one of those lists of hot up and coming tech multi-millionnaires. 

You hadn’t really had to do much more once you got in the door to meet the editor than to wave a picture of your gorgeous husband at her.

Yoongi’s got enough of a reputation that he had made their shortlist anyway.

The picture had just been the icing on the cake.

Thinking about it, you aren’t sure that sending Yoongi’s STI screen was that bad a thing to do. At least his employees knew their boss was responsible for his sexual health. 

You remember Yoongi’s thunderous face as he’d pointed out that half his staff were his parents’ age, his parents’ friends and deeply conservative. 

Anyway you’ve been sent an early copy, and Yoongi’s feature is so hot you feel like running around and showing him off.

Yoongi’s aware, of course, he’d had to consent to the feature, but it’s come out even better than you could have wished for.

You’re lying in bed, still awake, when he comes home. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, putting his hand on your thigh. 

‘Still awake, baby?’

‘I’m glad I got to see you before I fell asleep,’ you tell him.

He loosens his tie, tugging it off. 

‘Want me to rub your back?’ you ask.

‘Nah. I just want to sit here with you for a bit.’

‘Hey,’ you say, remembering. ‘Are you free this Friday?’

‘Ah, I have dinner plans. Why?’

‘Just I have this company dinner to go to and I was hoping for some company.’

You giggle at your inadvertent pun and you can sense Yoongi rolling his eyes.

‘I promised I’d take my team for dinner to thank them for their hard work with the Novatech deal.’

‘Ah, ok.’

You roll over to hide your disappointment. 

‘Good night, Yoongi.’

‘Good night, my love.’

‘Say that again,’ you say.

‘Demanding little brat. I said good night.’

‘What did you say at the end?’

‘Nothing.’

You huff in annoyance. 

You’re falling asleep when he finally gets into bed with you.

‘I said you’re my love,’ he tells you.

‘Thought so,’ you murmur. 

Yoongi reaches around you to hold your hand and you fall asleep in his arms.

***

You don’t normally invite Yoongi to events at your company, well you haven’t prior to this.

Nara sometimes comes with you, and she’s with you tonight.

She cheers the loudest when you’re presented with your award, and you can’t help laughing when you get back to your table.

‘How’s your voice?’ you ask, teasing.

‘Always here to scream on your behalf,’ Nara says, loyal friend that she is.

You hug her tightly. 

‘Come on now that I have my raise and my award, let’s go celebrate. Drinks on me.’

You wake up in Nara’s bed with fifty missed calls and messages from your husband.

Ah shit.

You call Yoongi to assure him that you’re fine and say you’ll meet him for breakfast. 

Nara’s already up, looking disconcertingly healthy in her gym clothes.

You hug her goodbye, pull on some sweats and dark glasses and go to meet Yoongi.

He’s at a coffee shop you both go to sometimes because the pastries are good.

Seokjin’s with him. 

They both look frighteningly bright and chirpy in your hungover state.

Yoongi passes you a coffee. 

‘You should let me know if you’re going out,’ he says. ‘I was worried.’

‘I’m sorry, I will next time. We were just celebrating.’

You fish your award out of your bag and put it on the table in front of him. 

‘I got an award at the company dinner last night for Juno.’

For the first time ever since you’ve met him, Seokjin actually looks impressed. 

‘You were involved with that? I use Juno all the time.’

You nod proudly.

Yoongi frowns. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come —-‘

‘You had plans, anyway,’ you say. 

You break off as Park Gyuri approaches your table. 

Like everyone else in your life, she looks bright, chipper, fresh.

You resist the urge to pull your hoodie over your head and tie the strings, taut.

‘Thanks for dinner last night, Yoongi,’ she says. ‘We probably should have rescheduled considering it was just two of us, but it was great, anyway.’

Her words make you glad you’ve got sunglasses on that hide half your face.

Ah shit. 

You’re tired, and emotional, and too fucking hungover for this. 

You think you’re going to cry. 

You get up, quickly, mumbling something about forgetting something in your car.

As soon as you’re out of the line of sight of the coffee shop, you speed up. 

‘Hey,’ a voice says. ‘Hey stop.’

Kim Seokjin is beautiful, but he’s not the asshole you want right now.

You press your lips together so they don’t tremble. 

You turn your face up to his, hoping he can’t see how teary you are.

Seokjin says, ‘Min Yoongi’s my best friend, but he’s a goddamned idiot half the time.’

He waits until he’s sure you’re looking at him.

‘Say the word and I’ll get my bodyguard Sungho to fuck him up right now.’

You can’t do anything but stare at him in astonishment. 

He holds out his arms. ‘They say I’ve got a good chest to cry on. Broad shoulders, and all that.’

You’re half-crying, half-laughing as he hugs you. ‘Who says that?’ you ask.

‘Shut up, brat,’ he advises. ‘Just enjoy the Seokjin shoulders to cry on.’

‘Not a thing,’ you say, snarkily, but you let him hold you anyway.

***

Seokjin drops you off at home.

Yoongi’s waiting by the door.

‘Are you ok?’ he asks.

‘Yeah, just a little tired,’ you reply.

Yoongi says, ‘I’ve never been unfaithful to you, Y/N.’

You’re worried you’re going to start crying again. 

‘If I’d known I’d have rescheduled the team dinner,’ he tells you. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there.’

His words soothe your sore heart like a balm.

He reaches out to slip your sunglasses off, your last flimsy layer of protection.

You know now that you’re firmly, irrevocably in love with your husband.

You melt into his arms.

***

It’s the evening of your final task to make things up with Yoongi.

You’re not even sure what the real world significance of ten tasks means.

It’s arbitrary.

Your relationship with Yoongi has been mending itself purely through getting to know each other.

You know Yoongi cares for you. He’s been showing it with his actions even if he can’t bring himself to say the words.

But you, you love words. You love romance and dreaming and all those other things people get ridiculed for loving.

You check in your bag to make sure you have the ring you picked out for Yoongi.

You’re going to ask him to marry you tonight.

He’s meeting you at the tallest building in the city because you wanted the gorgeous view when you propose.

You’ve just arrived at the front steps when Yoongi pulls up in the car you bought him.

He gets out, and you walk over to him.

He greets you with a kiss, and it’s so sweet it gives you butterflies.

‘Hey, I want to tell you something before we go up there,’ he says.

‘I know you have this idea that you want to make things up to me for things you’ve done in the past, but you should know I don’t think you need to do any of that. You were young, and hurting, and I wasn’t your choice. I don’t blame you for any of that.’

You go to speak, but he stops you. 

He reaches out to hold your hand. 

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t the husband you wanted,’ he says, ‘because you’ve always been exactly the wife I wanted.’

Yoongi’s lips curve in that half smile you’ve grown to know so well. ‘I’ll always choose you, my love.’

You lean into his arms. ‘Damn. Why do you always say everything better than me?’ you ask. 

You reach into your bag. ‘Since we’re doing this here on the road.’

You drop to one knee elegantly. ‘Will you marry me, Min Yoongi?’

Yoongi looks down at your face, at the ring you’re holding out to him.

‘Come up here, brat.’ 

He pulls you in his arms again. 

‘Is that a yes?’ you ask, between kisses.

‘I hate to break it to you, but we’re already married,’ Yoongi says, dryly.

‘I wanted to propose to you up there, with the world at our feet,’ you complain.

Yoongi ushers you into the car, closing the door and sliding in after you.

‘The world’s already at our feet,’ he tells you. ‘Can I take you home?’

You put your hand on his. ‘Yes.’ 

©hamsterclaw 2022

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"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

Yoongi X Reader

Warnings: None!

Genre: Fluff

a/n: for reference, "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" is another way to say i love you :) This fic fits perfectly with Taylor Swift's King of My Heart! I suggest you listen as you read.

♥︎ ~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎~ ♥︎

The effervescent feel of the cold bath of pink lavender salted water you rested in had to be the highlight of your morning. It was some Monday morning. Typically, you'd be out and about by daybreak hunched by the darkened cubicle at work, but today, it was different. It was your birthday, the one day you allow yourself to slack, but this year, somehow, your boyfriend convinced you to give it a week or two.

The soft glow of the morning sun was enough to reflect the beauty of the room you were in. Yoongi had booked a classy hotel far from home. Yes, you were across the world, and it seemed too much for you, but he was insistent. The beautiful blue ocean waves hit the shore softly, but it was enough for you to hear the soothing sounds. You close your eyes, relaxing your body against the cold ceramic bathtub wall as you take a moment to get to know yourself as you grow older this year.

Not long after, you hear the doorknob click open, sending your focus upon it. It was Yoongi. After fixing the bath for you, he was home from the short food hunt he'd assigned himself to. "How's your little tub session, baby?" He says, peaking from the door. You reach your arms out to him, wanting to be closer. "C'mere," You say, and soon after he was unclothed. Taking a dip into the tub, he sits behind you, wrapping his arms around your bare torso.

Moments like these come in spurs of moments. Yoongi was never showy of his love, but you knew it. You felt it too; but when he wants it to be seen, he goes all out. Above and beyond your imagination. The first month you'd been together, he took you out on a sweet road trip where he played the song he wrote for you on the radio. During your first anniversary, he rented out the local cinema and watched all your favorite movies with you, (with unlimited snacks too!). He was everything you wanted and more. He was perfect.

It was soon nightfall. You'd spent the day together in bed, talking and other stuff, (but mostly other stuff). It was magical, to say the least. Now, you sat quietly by the bay window, crossed-legged. You wore a yellow dress, a dress he particularly hand-picked from the boutique he had been to the day you both arrived in Greece. He said it reminded him of you, bright as the sunshine, his sunshine.

He had planned an amazing dinner on a yacht around Milos where you'd both would stargaze. "Ready to go, my love?" He says, all suited up. You smiled, taking a stand from where you are and walking over to him. "You look amazing baby" You whisper, looping your arm around his before kissing his cheek. "And you look stunning as ever" He replies.

Dinner progresses quickly but perfectly. Food had been prepared well and the bottle of wine wasn't even enough to satisfy the two of you, it was just that good. The whole night his eyes were on you. The way he looked at you would be of something from a romance novel you wouldn't be able to get over. The love in his orbs was evident and even the densest person would see. "Everything was wonderful tonight, love" You whisper as you leaned back onto his chest. You were both seated by the edge of the yacht as you both eyed the clear twinkling sky. "I'm glad I made you happy today" He replies, tightening his hug around you. Your hands travel slowly from his cheek to his hair. "You make me happy every day," You tell him.

Loving silence filled the air as you both admired how the stars had shined for you at that moment. With occasional head kisses and hand rubs, you smiled to yourself, thinking about how lucky you'd been to hook, line, and sinker your dream man. "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" Yoongi whispers into your ear before pressing a soft kiss. You smile lovingly, turning halfway to face him. "It really is". You reply, sealing the space in between.

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a mirror of long nights | myg

pairing ; yoongi x reader

genre ; fluff

tags ; idol!yoongi, established relationship!au, domestic!au

warnings ; unhealthy habits (overworking, sleep deprivation), yoongi calls reader ‘dummy’ but lovingly

summary ; yoongi sees too much of himself in you and resolves to put this to an end.

word count ; 632

a/n ; a soft little reminder to be kind to yourselves and remember to rest. if you enjoy my work, please consider supporting me ☕

.・゜-: ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　✧　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

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Pairing: Yoongi x Lawyer!Reader

Genre: Fluff (literally nothing but domestic fluff) + dad!Yoongi + married au + one teensy tiny little suggestive/flirtatious comment, but nothing crazy

Word Count: 1.0K

*This was entirely self-indulgent, and I’m not even sorry*

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You turned the key in your ignition, the engine on your car finally quieting, headlights turning off automatically. The few remaining rays of the late summer sun were setting, basking you in a blue-pink dusk. You tilted your head forward onto your hands placed on the steering wheel in front of you, taking a deep breath to relieve the stress of the day before gathering your files and work bag and heading inside the house.

It was your fifth night in a row coming home late from work–there was an upcoming trial requiring you and your team to work practically around the clock to make sure everything was ready for your client. You loved your job, but your heart ached this week for a family dinner and more time to snuggle with your child. The main part of the house was already dark, the light in the entry hallway left on since Yoongi knew you would be home late again from the office. Your husband was likely locked away in his home studio while your six-month-old daughter slept in her crib in the nursery.

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