Yoongi X Oc - Tumblr Posts

Guide:

💕= Fluff

✨️= Smut

🥀= Angst

⚡️= Suggestive

💌 = Readers favorite

🩵 = My favorites

Nothing yet...

To Get To You 💕⚡️🩵

-> Request: Hii, i just found your blog and saw that you are accepting requests, could i ask for a fic where the maknaes set you up with yoongi? Kind like frenemies to lovers? Like you and yoongi are constantly bickering and the rest of the guys cannot take it anymore of how much chemistry you guys have. Rom/com kind of vibe.

Pool Party✨️

-> Request: They are playing truth or dare with some friends at this pool party. Their friends know they like each other so they dare Yoongi to kiss her inner thighs, and yn to kiss his happy trail. Next round they ask him to kiss her tits and her to put her hands inside his swim trunks and stroke his dick.

She gets very horny by it so she excuses herself to one of the rooms and Yoongi follows her, they have a bit of a talk about what happened back there and he tells her that he was left wishing he could finish what he started and she tells that she can finish it now. He uses some of that technology tongue with her and then fucks her silly (Yoongi is kind of obsessed with readers big tits. When they are done, their friends are waiting for them outside laughing and saying that their plan worked

The New And The Ex ✨️🩵

-> Request: Reader has a crush with jk since they were young (they were neighbors growing up). Now they are 26 yo. Taehyung throws this party and they both attend.

She hears him talking with his friends about how he never liked her and was just close to her because he helped him study and their parents were friends. But in reality he likes her, he was trying to play it cool.When oc hears that she runs off.

A few days later she meets with Yoongi (an old friend, they had a fling a while ago) at her house and he holds her in his arms.

One thing leads to another and they fuck and while they are doing it, Jungkook barges in (he has her house keys and was worried because she doesn't reply to his texts) and sees them, but they don't stop.

Work Night ✨️

-> Request: They could be former classmates, always fighting for being the class #1. Been rivals through college, and now ended up working for the same company. They get teemed up for the same project and end up working late at the company building. Yn and him start bikering about some dumb shit, tension builds up and they fuck on top of his work desk

First Time ✨️🩵💌

-> Request: yoongi fucking his girlfriend raw for the first time and her telling him to cum inside because she wants his babies

Numb To The Feeling ✨️

-> Request: Yoongi and song numb to the feeling by chase atlantic.

Punishment ✨️

-> Request: yoongi being a brat tamer. Basically just the reader or y/n having an attitude on purpose and just being a brat and yoongi punishing her with sex and spanking? Also preferably rough sex.

Hoodie ✨️🩵

-> Request: Yoongi fucking his gf in his hoodie. first he will cuddle with her in the kitchen while leaving kisses on her neck and then he will slowly become horny and at one point he will say 'I want to fuck you while you are wearing my hoodie'.

Nothing yet...

Namjoon Headcanons (Chubby!gf) 💕🩵

-> Request: Namjoon HC as bf to a chubby girl.

Just a taste ✨️🩵

-> Request: Jimin and yn being exes and meeting again at their best friends wedding (the groom is jimin's best friend and the bride is yn's). Their friends know that they still love eachother, so they make them sit together, but they bicker for the whole celebration.

When it's time to leave, she doesn't have a ride home, and jimin offers himself to take her to her place. Once they get there, she asks him if she wants to go upstairs, to have a final drink. They talk about their break up, and when he's about to leave, he kisses yn and have make up sex against the kitchen counter.

Just Another Bad Day 💕🩵

-> Request: Reader has had a bad day and is feeling a bit down, Tae realizing this, does a lot of things to comfort her, like cuddling.

Taehyung's headcanons (BF who's in love with you). 💕🩵

-> Request: A hc of Tae in love with reader, being just friends.

5:30 A.M. ✨️💌

-> Request: Jungkook and YN laying in bed cockwarming while watching a movie and they fall asleep. Jungkook wakes up in the middle of the night and is still inside YN so he wakes her up by sucking her tits and asks her if it's ok to fuck because he is hard.

The Best Way To Shut Someone Up ✨️

-> Request: yn and jk have been in the same friend group since highschool, but they could never stand eachother (he always pranked her, would't say bully, but hasn't been exactly nice to her either). She always stood silent, until one day she just gets fed up and starts arguing back, he might tell her 'oh shut up!' and she could say 'make me'

Friend-to-friend support ✨️

-> Request: He gets home after a stressful day at work and goes to her bedroom. While she's laying in bed just scrolling through TikTok he lifts her shirt up, no bra, and starts sucking on her big tits while she keeps scrolling like it's nothing. Just no explanation, she understands he had a rough day at work and lets him have his way sucking and playing with her tits and fucking her, because he would let her do the same with him. They might be talking about what went wrong at work, how was her day... just casual conversations! After sucking - and playing with her nipples for a while, he fucks her (raw) doggy style and cums inside.

Summer Days ✨️💌

-> Request: Jungkook eating her gf out by the pool while she's laying on the lounger and enjoying the sun because he's so pussy whipped he just can't control himself.

Back To Main Masterlist ->

When The Lights Go Out [Horror!Au/Yoongi]

-> Summary: The Han family has always been one of the most powerful and influential families in South Korea. They owned three of the most important companies in the country, in addition to the many others with which they had agreements and investments.

They were always known for their impeccable image, one that, in all the years they had been in the market, had never been tarnished.

Or at least it was until, on his 57th birthday, Mr. Han's body was found in his office. A gunshot to the head had caused his instant death.

A total of seven officers were assigned to handle the case, and absolutely none of them expected to encounter a family with such a dark and depraved background as the Han's.

The Han Family [Non-idol!Au/OT7]

-> Summary: Your boss -with whom you had been working for more than seven years- had given you the job of going to check out one of his most recent projects, a large house on the outskirts of a rather quiet town that was quite far from the city.

It wasn't until you spent the first week staying at the house that you realized something important. From dead animals, to the shadow of a badly wounded young woman screaming at your window in the early morning hours, every single thing that happened during your stay there was screaming at you to leave, warning you about what your future would be.

It had taken you a long time to realize that, much to your disgrace, you had no escape. You were trapped in that place, and it was no longer just your job that was at stake, after all, how could you work when you were dead?

Bring On The Night [Band!Au/OT7]

-> Summary: Get to know the life of the members of Bring On The Night! The pop/rock band of the moment that has a whole generation addicted to their music, lyrics and performers.

Back To Main Masterlist ->

->Request Status (currently 8 are pending):

One shots: Closed

Character asks: Open

Drabbles (no-smut): Open

-> I will receive request if:

The request is made with respect.

They are angst, fluff, smut, I'm pretty flexible on the subject.

Request comes with detailed/specific description.

-> I will not receive request if:

The request has Daddy Kink, Non-con, smut with two or more members, freeuse [non-con], BDSM, rough sex or any mistreatment of the character to the reader.

Pairings between members.

The request was against a community, there may be slight mentions in the shot, but never any kind of disrespect that could hurt someone.

-> Things to keep in mind:

If I take too long to make a request, it's not because I'm not going to do it, but because I'm very slow at starting to write.

I do not respond to hateful comments towards me or any anon who has made a request, if you send an ask insulting me or any of the anons I will block the account to avoid further discomfort.

If I don't feel comfortable with the request or I feel it is something I can't/want to write, I will respond to it as soon as possible so as not to leave the person waiting for the request.

-> Taglist.

-> Send feedback!

-> Request Masterlist.

-> Reactions Masterlist.

-> Series Masterlist.

-> One-shots/Drabbles Masterlist.

-> Future Works.

-> WIP Masterlist.

Header by @kayentokk dividers by @thecutestgrotto

༺♥༻ THE ABSENCE OF YOU ༺♥༻

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: no strings attached right? It’s just a sex. He’s your enemy. You can’t love him. He has a crush on some else, and so do you. Right?

Genre: 18+, enemies to lovers, uh sad?, jealousy, arguing, cursing.

Word count: 3.1k

\\Unedited//

Min Yoongi was a lot to figure out. He was secretive, cold and not at all an affectionate person. So what has drawn you to him? Why are you so mad and obsessed with him, constantly biting back whenever he makes a comment, constantly dedicating your time to him. Why?

He knew you because he’s been at your back for the past two years. He knows you don’t spare time to people like him, so why are you standing in front of his apartment right now, eyes fiery and gaze hard. If he was anyone else he’d be scared, but he reads you so well. He knows exactly when you are just a few seconds away from tears. He knows by the way your lip just slightly quivers, the way your eyes are more bright and glossy than usual, he knows by the way you swallow more thickly, pushing past him and into his space.

You stand in front of him now, his back to the door and you are just slightly illuminated by the small light coming from his kitchen. He knows there’s something biting at you, and he knows why you’re here, he knows. Yet he still asks.

“Why are you here y/n?” He asks with a stoic look.

You scoff, the tears already wetting your cheeks as you wipe them away furiously, “he said he loved me”

His heart sank, yet his face remained hard and calm “so what’s the issue?”

“He loved me” you whisper.

Oh.. it’s shitty of him how his heart slightly jitters, waking up from its sulk just by the slightest bit.

“He’s in love with her” you meet his gaze. Somber eyes looking into his confused ones.

He loves her?

“And she loves him yoongi…”

He scoffs, pushing himself off the door and walks towards you, grabbing at your hips, looking down into your eyes “and why would I believe you?”

“Because I have nothing left to lie for” your eyebrows pinch into a frown, eyes settling on his lips as he pulls you in closer, watching as you bite your lip despite the pain and tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Help me Yoongi” you swallow thickly, holding onto his broad shoulders.

His lips ghosted yours, breathes mixing as the air became heavy. His parted lips enveloped yours, kissing you harshly. Parting just to take a breath. He looked you up and down, loving that you’re wearing black head to toe. Pulling your black vest over your head he pulled you back into his body, kissing you with more determination. Your own hands clenching into fists around his black shirt, your lips detaching again to remove his shirt. He wasted no time into leading you to his room, never giving up on your soft lips.

The door closed behind you, and you wasted no time in shrugging your black leggings off, your shoes next. He walked you back, your knees hitting the edge of the bed, hair pooling around your face as he placed kissed from the top of your spine, past your bra and to your black panties. He fiddled with them, before helping you out of them.

His heart was racing, the woman he believes he loves is in love with another man, and the woman he hates and uses as a pawn to draw the other one in is currently underneath him, moaning out his name while he fucks her with deep determined thrusts, marking her neck with his bruises, and sure, you use him as a pawn too, to get the man you were in love with back.

“Yoongi” you arched your back, your tits squished against his chest as he groaned, hiding his face in your neck, you’re so close, you can feel it, the blooming ache tying its knot in your stomach “fuck”

“I hate you” you moaned.

“I hate you too” he groaned, grabbing onto your jaw and kissing you harshly.

You came down hard, your legs tightening around his waist as he fucks you through it, continuing his abuse down your neck, biting nipping and marking every inch he could. Fuck he’s gonna get a mouthful about it. He doesn’t care.

His hips stutter, your body becoming overstimulated as he chased his high, he looked into your eyes, noticing that your mascara is still a mess under your eyes and for some reason that did it for him, he came inside you, spilling himself all in you. He pants, falling on top of you. Your breathes heavy and hard, accommodating the air in his bedroom. He supports his weight on his elbows, flicking some of your hair away from your face.

“Let’s go out and eat?” He asks, voice soft.

You nod back, “they’re in the diner” you scurry from underneath him, placing your clothes back on before you cringe.

“You can shower here, I’ll give you some fresh clothes” he offers and you don’t deny the way you usually would. That concerns him. The way you just go to the bathroom without another word, no snarky remark thrown his way.

For a minute his heart freaks out, goes into full panic mode. He’s not sure wether he should check on you or leave you alone, but he knows you’re better off alone, yet for some reason his feet bring him to his bathroom, and seeing you under the running shower in the bathtub, knees to your chest and sobbing into your arms. His heart breaks. He puts the clothes he brought out for you on the heater, sitting beside the bathtub he takes the shampoo and starts to lather your hair in it.

“It’s gonna work,” he mumbled quietly “I promise”

You don’t say anything, you just stare into the void, his heart breaking into pieces all over again. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, he shouldn’t be so worried and hurt for you. He should hate you. So why is his heart squeezing with concern and pity for you?

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Yoongi watches as you pick at your food, staring at the happy couple that over his shoulder. He sighs, taking your hands into his he grabs your attention, looking at you with slightly warning eyes, “stop staring at them, remember ? We are a happy couple”

Happy couple my ass, the only thing happy about y’all is when you’re fucking each other like energiser bunnies, other than that everything is fake. The Instagram posts, the public affection, the millions of photos of him and you on your camera rolls. It’s all fake. The only reason you guys are even talking more than a few snarky sentence is because you agreed to this… whatever this is.

Fake couple? Fake dating to get your ex and his crushes attention. That’s all it is, yet somehow your heart manages to jump just at the slightest of his touches, something you didn’t experience with your ex, and he hasn’t with the girl he believes he loves. The only person who can ignite the fire on his skin like gasoline is you, the only person his breathing and control is all gone out the window the second your lips are with his.

Must be the hate you have for each other. That’s the only reasonable explanation for the way his heart does a little happy dance when you smile at him and squeeze his hand back… all fake he reminds himself.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

He doesn’t love her. He’s sure of it now. Now that he watches as they fight across the hall, tears rolling down her cheeks. He should feel sad for her, she should run after her and take what’s his… he should be taking his chance right now. So why isn’t he? Why is he standing there, watching him close his door right in her face.

He opens the door to his apartment, watching as she walks past him. Not exactly caring about her, the only thing his eyes are focusing on is the note underneath his feet he accidentally stepped on.

He takes the note in his hands, reading the familiar writing.

If he loved me the way I want him to, he’d be in bed with me right now. Hugging me to his body tightly, the way you used to do. If I loved him the way I thought I did, I’d be so happy that he sent me a text, telling me he’s breaking up with her. So why am I not happy? Why am I so angry? So mad. Yoongi… I’m in love with someone else. Someone I shouldn’t be in love with. Someone who’ll never see me that way. I decided I need some time away from this mess, I need to breathe. By myself. The deal is off anyway right? We got what we wanted… they broke up… you can go get her now. Good luck- Y/N.

He blinked a few times, setting the grocery bag onto the counter. Why did you write this to him? Why not text him? Why is his heart dropping. He hates how you make him feel. So angry with himself constantly. Because he knows you are the one. The one he can’t have. Maybe he’s naive, but he wants to believe that someone else is him.

Setting the note aside, he pulls his phone out. Rummaging through his contacts to find yours, once he finds the rose emoticon in his contacts he clicks it, watching as a picture of you and him in bed pops up on his screen, the tone dialling for a few minutes before your voicemail comes on.

He sighs, grabbing at his hair as he puts his keys on the counter and tries ringing you again… no answer. Frustrated he sends the phone flying into his couch. He has no clue when you’ll come back.. and if you do will you still hate him? Will you be the same person he knows?

~~~

THREE WEEKS

Three complete weeks passed since that stupid note you have left him. He hasn’t seen you for three weeks. He hasn’t kissed you, touched you or even just looked at you for three weeks and his entire world was starting to fall apart. He was starting to see the world in grey again.. not the colors he’d usually see the sky in. Not without you.

Lighting the cherry candle again, he wipes his tears. Wishing he hasn’t fallen so deeply for you, wishing you haven’t left him with such void in his soul. He watched as the candle blowed, emitting the scent he loved, the scent that would usually linger after you had sex.

He missed you, even your snarky comments and your constant abusing lips on his neck. He missed everything. He misses the arguments, the tension, the adrenaline in his veins when you’d work him up on purpose just so he could fuck you hard. He misses you.

Desperate to at least hear your voice, he puts his phone to his ear. Expecting your voicemail.

“Why’d you leave?” He slurs.

On the other end of the line you blink your tears away, “yoongi?”

His body freezes, not expecting your sweet voice to call his name out, “y/n?”

“Are you drinking?” He stares at the whiskey, shaking his head.

“No” he lies. You can hear it in his voice.

“Are you with her?” Your voice was quiet, small almost like a whisper.

“No”

“Why?” You questioned.

“Because I don’t love her” he replies, your heart racing as stare out of your apartment window.

The line goes silent for a few minutes, a few long minutes. You can hear his breathing through the phone, and you wish you were there right now. You end the call, closing your eyes before you curse yourself out.

Within a few minutes, you arrive at his place. Knocking obnoxiously as you wait for him to answer.

The door swings open, a tired yoongi just out of the shower appears before you. Staring at you with wide eyes, you purse your lips, pushing past him and into the familiar space.

He turns around, In nothing more than his black sweats.

“I thought you were away”

“I was”

He nods. Staring at you as he leans against the counter, gulping the remains of whiskey in his glass, trying to decipher the look on your face right now.

“Drinking Yoongi?” You sigh, hands on your hips “Before a work day”

He scoffs, putting the glass back down before pouring himself another shot. You grumble something under your breath, stomping your way over to him and grabbing the glass out of his hands.

“Stop it!” You raise your voice.

“Stop acting like you care” he matches your tone.

“Who said I don’t care!”

“You never gave a crap to show if you do” he huffs.

You chuckle bitterly, “don’t act like you have, you’ve always been so cold towards me.. unless of course it was for show”

“You weren’t much better were you”

You quint your eyes, shaking your head at him, “at least I showed you some affection, some type of will to be civil with you! You only ever did when I was crying or In a bad mood, you hate me don’t you”

“Y/n…” he groans rubbing his face furiously.

“You really do hate me huh” you scoff.

“And if I do?” He yells.

You shake your head. Turning on your heel and walking towards the door. He panics, following you, watching as you stop right before the door.

“I at least hoped you would have seen me as a friend” tears glosses your eyes and his heart ached.

“Goodbye yoongi” you shake your head leaving once again.

He laughs bitterly, spewing anger and hate from his mouth like a snake shooting venom of its tongue “yeah run! Because that’s the only thing you’re good at Y-“

“Excuse me?” You turn around, face falling.

“Let’s not lie to ourselves baby, you can’t handle pain. The only pain you love is when I’m fucking you don’t you?”

“As far as I remember you never had a problem with me leaving, matter of fact you used to throw me out after sex” you scoff. Dropping your hands of off the door handle.

“You were an easy fuck,” he shrugs “what can I say”

You frown, face pinching in true pain and he wishes he could take it all back. All the stupid words he just said, all the pain and anger he was projecting on to you because he loved you and couldn’t admit it out loud. Fuck. The look on your face broke something so deep inside of him. He hates himself right now.

“Fuck you Yoongi” you shake your head scoffing, leaving the house in a rush.

It seemed as if the tears running down your face were never ending. Running for what seemed like miles as you hit the soft pillows of your bed, ignoring the multiple phone calls and messages yoongi left.

You hated how much he hated you. But didn’t they say not to fall for something you can’t have? Haven’t they warned you of the disaster of loving someone so close yet so far from your reach? Silly girl, you never learn do you? With a heavy heart, you close your eyes and fall into a deep slumber, were you can pretend Yoongi and you are in a perfect relationship, with perfect kids in a perfect home, in a perfect life.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Slamming your head of your door you groan, the obnoxious knocking on your door doing your head in as you clenched your eyes, wishing you haven’t gone to the grocery store today. Why today out of all days?

After a full week of ignoring Yoongi, you have ran into in the grocery story. Where he was adamant in making it up to you, but the only thing going through your head was how much he hates you. So you ignored him, like you have learned to do with most of your complications in life.

Except Yoongi is determined for your forgiveness, in fact so determined he followed you all the way to your apartment, knocking so loudly you are sure your neighbours probably hate you even more.

“Y/n” his voice called, exasperated.

“Come on,” knock “baby please” knock “ y/n open the door baby”

You banged your head of the door a couple of more times, knowing that when Yoongi is this stubborn he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants. Sighing you turned, leaning your forehead against the cold wood and praying to god for patience as you reached for the handle.

“Finally” he sighed, dropping his arm by his side.

You stepped aside, letting him in.

“Came to see your whore?” Your voice was calm, way too calm and your stare was void.

“Y/N…” he closes his eyes pinching the bridge of his nose “I am so sorry, believe me.”

“It hurt”

A lump formed in his throat, hating the fact he was the cause of your hurt, “I am so fucking sorry”

You blinked nodding as you inspected the roses in your vase, your fingers tracing the delicate red petals, “why do you hate me Yoongi?”

His brows furrowed, heart racing as he watched your stoic face, wondering why he couldn’t understand what you were feeling. He’s not used to not being able to read your body language. He’s not used to having to struggle to figure you out. He hated it. All of it.

“I don’t hate you”

“I beg to differ” you chuckle bitterly.

He sighed, hoping that some type of high heaven will help him, “I - I think I love you?”

Your brows pinched together, confusion written on your pretty face “you think or you know?”

He closed his eyes, licking his lips and letting his mind run for a minute “I know”

With a heavy heart you walked towards him, gently tugging his chin and running your finger across his lips, watching his eyes twinkle and you wish you met him under different circumstances. Where loving him was as easy as in your dreams, where it wasn’t painful.

You smiled heartily, blinking lazily as pecked his lips, his own chasing after them for more “loving you was the most exquisite form of self destruction Yoongi”.

His eyes turned sympathetic, holding nothing but love for you.

“someday We’ll find each other and when we do.. we’ll find faith in things like we love each other, but maybe next time, it’ll hurt less”

He nods, kissing you feverishly, and for a second you let yourself believe it wasn’t as hard as it is, letting yourself believe your lives are a fairytale. Believing naively that the hold he has on you right now will return shortly.

“Goodbye yoongi”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: short Drabble while y’all wait for a new one shot I have on the way! Hope y’all enjoyed please don’t be afraid to interact!

MASTERLIST

NO REPOSTING, EDITING, TRANSLATION OR COPYING OF ANY OF MY WORKS!

ʚ✟⃛ɞ Mercy Me ʚ✟⃛ɞ M.Y.G

PAIRING: min yoongi x FEM!reader

SUMMARY: yoongi and you might have been a lost case in terms of love right now, but if you there was one thing both of you were sure of, is that when it comes to sex, no one… no one, can fuck yoongi like you, and no one can fuck you like yoongi.

WARNINGS: penetrative sex, unprotected sex (use protection and I’ll give you a cookie pookie), oral sex f! & M! Receiving. Idol! Yoongi, switch reader, switched yoongi. Mirror sex. Exes. That’s all I think???????

An: unedited but honestly did you expect any better?

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

There was only a few things Yoongi was sure of, his career, his members and you. He could always depend on you, just like you could always depend on him. It wasn’t necessarily like both of you couldn’t find someone else. God he knew you could find someone who’d treat you like the little spoiled brat you are. A Princess in his eyes nonetheless.

He wasn’t sure of just one thing. Is he ever going to love anyone other than you?

Because by the way you are standing in front of him right now, with a gaze that of a very seductive feline, soft pale skin and pink lips. Eyes as bright as the moon outside the very window you leaned against. Slim arms spread out on each side of you, the little black satin dress doing a poor job of covering your perky nipples. God did he love your breasts, so round and thick. He was in love with everything about you.

He never pegged himself for a guy to be into women who are taller than him, but fuck, you knew exactly how to use it to your advantage. It wasn’t like you were much taller than him, not at all, but Christ did he find it sexy. Your red lips pulled into a smirk as he slowly strolled towards you, hands in the pockets of his black slacks, black button up half way unbuttoned. He looked ravishing as always.

“Can’t live without me?” He asks, voice as deep as the neckline hugging your breasts.

“I’m just a girl Yoongi” you practically whispered, hair as red as a flame as it covered your covered your face slightly.

“Just a girl,” he chuckled, standing in front of you now, long, rough, fingers gripping onto your chin softly, “just a girl who loves me?”.

You smiled softly, icy eyes staring right into his, “just a girl who loves your cock”.

Licking his lips and biting his bottom lip as he looks at your own he mutters, “that’s basically being in love with me.”

His lips caught yours in a kiss so lewd from the start it could leave anyone breathless and faltering as quickly as you right now. It wasn’t your fault. His hands now pressed against your neck, applying some pressure for the right amount of tension. It burnt, the kiss. It was hot, his tongue fighting with yours as you finally regained your balance. As much as you loved yoongi being all dominant, you also loved taking control over him.

And it was so easy. Oh so easy to have him submitting.

With just the softest push from your palm, he detached from the sloppy kiss. Though your lipstick was slightly smudged now, you didn’t really care. Instead, you propped yourself up on top of the piano, the dress bunching up around your hips, bare ass sticking to the surface of the black tile.

Looking I’m as deeply in his eyes as possible, you smirked once again, leaning against the back of your palms, your feet planted themselves against the surface. Spreading your legs slowly, you revealed to him your bare pussy. He scoffed in amusement. Both hands now back in his pockets as his head tipped to the side. Cat like smirk on his face.

“Easy access hm?”

“Less talking yoongi,” you whispered back, “more eating”.

Eyes shining with something dangerous, you immediately knew this wasn’t going to be an easy night. He stood between your legs now, palms baring his weight against the piano he looks at you one last time, before pulling you further up on the piano, dropping his lower half more onto it, his eyes shone darkly. Then as you were about to scold him for taking so long, you noticed the saliva dropping onto your pussy. And you had to bite down on your lip as he disappeared between your legs.

The first contact the tip of his tongue made with your clit is what made you catch your breathe. Immediately dropping onto the piano flat. It was subtle at first, just small flicks with the tip of his tongue on your clit. He was teasing, not as easily submitting as you thought he would. But it all just makes it so much more exciting.

As you started to lift your hips up, trying to push yourself further on his tongue, he chuckled. Finally opening his mouth wide enough to kiss your entire pussy in one go. Licking from the bottom to the top. God he was so fucking good at this. His wet muscles continued to do that for a few strokes, before eventually he got bored of it. He finally suctioned onto your clit, earning his first audible moan. His tongue peaked out again, softly rubbing circles against it as you became wetter and wetter, your breathing becoming more ragged as you pussy clenched around nothing. Whimpering a little when it wasn’t enough. God you wanted him so deep inside you right now.

His middle finger circled your entrance, dancing around it before he entered just the beginning of it. You felt stimulated now. His tongue circling your clit in medium pace as his lips suctioned around it. Finger now dipping in and out of you, he continued like that for a few minutes, watching your slow build up. The way your stomach would rise and fall as quickly as your breathing. The way your hands moulded your breasts, pretty fingers rubbing your nipples in stimulation with his tongue. He drew your first orgasm pretty quickly and without much effort.

But he wasn’t done. No this was his warm up, this was what he called the first stretch. He rode your high out, and without letting you catch your breath, he added his ring finger inside you. Making you hiss out of overstimulation. They were soft at first, in and out. Steady. His lips kissing around your pussy, sucking on one lip before moving onto the other. Then, his tongue flattened against your clit, shaking his head side to side as the small screech that left you fuelled him on. His mouth went back to sucking onto your clit, tongue now flicking up and down vigorously. Fingers picking up their pace and curling upwards inside you. With your moan getting stuck inside your throat and your head picking up of the flat surface, your free palm slammed down into the piano, other hand grabbing onto his hair tighter. Pulling him off you as your first squirt drilled onto the shiny tile. It was small but it was there, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs closed.

“Isn’t this what you wanted Y/N?”

Hopping off the piano on wobbly legs, you pushed him with such intent onto the chair in-front of it. Quickly dropping to your knees as you worked on his belt, pulling him out like your life depend on it.

Smirking at how hard he was you chuckled softly, “always so ready for me aren’t you Yoongi?”

Not letting him answer, you wrap your pretty little lips around the tip of his cock. Sucking gently before swirling your tongue. He immediately sucked a sharp hiss in, his hand splaying down on the piano as your lips continued to travel further down his dick. Your tongue flat underneath him. He looked so pretty like this, hunched over you with his eyes shut close and his lips wide open, cheeks blushing.

Taking him further down your throat, you didn’t waste time before you started bobbing your head up and down, slowly at first, building the tension in his stomach. His other hand around the back of your hand, forcing you to go faster, and you did, immediately hollowing your cheeks even tighter. Making him groan as you looked right up at him, eye to eye. Your last move almost killed him, lips suckling on the tip as your tongue applied pressure right underneath it, right on the bottom of the slit were his soft spot was. That’s when he harshly pulled you off, practically ripping the black dress off of you.

Leaving you bare in front of him, he pulled his slacks further down his legs, beckoning you to come forward and straddle him as he helped you sink down onto him slowly. Your jaw hung low as you gazed into each others eyes, feeling him everywhere. So deep inside your stomach and so deep inside your head. Fuck you hated and loved him at the same time.

“Promise you one thing Y/N” he mutters in your ear, both hands on your neck softly, resting right under your jaw, “no one will ever fuck you the way I do.”

“I’m glad you still love me” you reply, just as hazily and quietly.

He doesn’t deny it, he shakes his head with a soft chuckle, and instead he says, “I never will stop loving you. Even if we can never work this out”.

Scared you might end up wounded right after this, you shut him up with your lips, kissing him deeply and harshly as he feels everything both of you are too afraid to say.

Starting your slow movements, you watched in the mirror opposite you. The way you rose up and sank down back on him. The way his face nuzzled inside your neck and the way your cheek rested on-top of the mop on his head. Rolling your hips into his, you moaned. Digging your nails into his shoulders, before you could feel the fire buzzing off him. Within seconds he had you on the floor. Knees digging into the hard panel.

He didn’t beat around the bush, kneeling in the same position as you but behind, he entered you again. This time the moan leaving your lips was loud. His hand wrapped around your waist, flushing you against him as he began moving at an animalistic pace. Having you in a mess on the floor. His dick was reaching places you know only he knew of. He had you panting with him, his hand forcing your head to looking the mirror.

“Look how pretty you look getting destroyed by my cock hm?”

You were far too gone to respond, watching in the mirror through hooded eyes. Fuck he was good, your pussy was begging to for relief. Begging to cum. You could feel it down your legs and in your toes. The coil in your stomach ready to snap any second and you were done for when his hand reached for your clit, rubbing circles as you moaned his name like a chant, sounds of skin on skin and wetness so lewd anyone who’d pass by would know of the sinful scenes behind the locked doors.

“Fuck, cum for me slut”.

And within a few more sloppy thrusts of his own, you came right with him for the first time. Both of you panting messy and hot. Your orgasm so good you forgot your name for a second.

“Hobi is going to hate us.”

——————————

AN: poor hobi :’) hope y’all enjoyed.

MASTERLIST

No rewriting, copying, translation or reposting on any other platform other than sharing on tumblr permitted!!!

╰┈➤ Pretty when you cry | M.Y.G

・❥・PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!reader

・❥・SUMMARY: Yoongi thinks you’re one of the prettiest women alive.

・❥・WARNINGS: character death due to child birth / hints - talks of suicide. The length of this is more poem wise than story wise, so please don’t hate me for it being so short I’m sorryyyyy

******LISTEN TO PRETTY WHEN I CRY BY LANA DEL REY ******!!!!

Many have dreamt of a girl like you. Yoongi knows that. You were like the kiss of Aphrodite, the touch of an inside of a rose and the warmth of the summer sun. In a sense, you reminded him that of when the flowers begin to bloom during spring, the fresh crispy wave of reminiscent winter air in the morning and the dusky sky on a summer evening, right when it turns to the shade of pink, when the sun begins to timid away to your beauty. You were the it girl.

He knew that there were other ways to describe you, so many other ways. But for the life of him, your beauty and grace was indescribable. You were just like a pretty buttery daffodil, the sweetness of chocolate covered strawberries and the icy taste of a mango sorbet. So fucking, good.

He knew he was absolutely right when he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him on the docks of the summer lake during your camping days. The skies were exactly pink, orange and lilac. It was the the most memorable day to Yoongi, when he saw the way your smile lit up the lake as if tons of shimmering glitter was poured into it, the way the flowers perked up when you sniffled a little and your eyes shined brighter than any stupid star in the galaxy. He could swear your tears were dusted with some type of shimmer when they rolled down your rosey cheeks. Your siren gaze smiling with your bowed blushed lips, skin pale aside from the blush in your cheeks.

That day, that day his heart blossomed with the flowers. His heart expanded and felt that of pure cotton, soft, squishy and warm. So fucking warm, that day, when you said yes, he swears his blood seemed to flow a little more smoothly to his heart, reddening it as if it was crying the tears his eyes couldn’t seem to make out. That was the happiest day in his life, that day, he remembers every moment, every time he wakes up his brain somehow wires the chilly air to the way it was that morning, and the dusty sky, he now believes it carries your name with it every time summer comes around. He swears it does.

The clouds that day could have spelled your name out with the way the earth misted with your warm aura, it was as if everywhere you went, you bled your softness and kindness, your pureness into the earth beneath your feet. It would seep into the ground and rise above, blooming and captivating everything and everyone around you.

Summer, summer was the best way to describe you.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.” He murmured into your ear that day, your arms wrapping around him even tighter.

“Yoongi, you gave me a ring.”

He could give you so much more, he could give you the galaxy on the finest silver platter he could find. He would go around the world and pick every single flower around it for you. He would drain the ocean to save your life, and he would set this earth on fire if anyone hurt you.

Yoongi, would give his life for you.

Yoongi before you thought he would never bloom this beauty in his life. He refused to believe there was anyone in this world who would ever make him feel something again. He would roam the halls of your college campus in all black, noise cancelling headphones on his ears and he never, never spoke to anyone unless it was for an assignment. He thought back then he’d die alone.

Then you appeared on the roof of the building, grabbing him in a life sucking hug and begging him to give you just 24 hours. Twenty fucking four stupid hours to change his mind about living his life. Now he would spend eternity to spend it with you. He would bargain with the devil if it meant he could live forever with you.

If it meant, he got to see your face every, single, damned time.

You changed everything about him, in twenty four hours, you changed his view on this world. From forcing him to drive in your car while blasting some girly music in your run down Corolla with all the windows down, to eating frozen yogurt at the dead of night. Then, he saw you cry for the first time, when he told you just how sad he was while drinking wine, and he thought to himself how pretty you were when you cried.

He loved you more than life itself, you were the reason he was breathing, the reason he wanted to continue his life. The reason why the sound of children never sounded bad anymore. So he gave you your one wish. A baby. And then he found himself in the delivery room, staring with tears in his eyes, looking at his precious little girl, at the doctors who held her, and then his eyes landed on you, on the blood dripping from the bed, the doctors arms pushing vigorously against your chest, desperately trying to get your heart to beat again. He just stood there, for the first time crying. In his white cozy sweater and white turtle neck. The room was bizarrely quiet in his ears.

all he saw was the lifeless body of his life.

A/N: moral of the story? Don’t have ki…

Im only kidding please don’t kill me.

I can write a happier ending? If y’all want that… I’m sorry? Please forgive me?

NO COPYING, TRANSLATION OR RECREATION OF ANY KIND OF MY WORK IS PERMITTED.

MASTERLIST

~ Midnight ~

Pairing: [ Idol!reader x rapper!namjoon; Make up artist!OC x rapper!yoongi; Taekook ]

genre: sm au, fluff, humour, angst 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

🌌 Part 1 - y/n and her friends

🌌 Part 2 - Namjoon and his friends 

🌌 Part 3 - not to be rude or anything 

🌌 Part 4 - my newest bestest friend 

part one - y/n and her friends 

~ Midnight ~

[ Idol!reader x rapper!namjoon , rapper!yoongi x make up artist!OC , Taekook ]

next> 

[ Idol!reader x rapper!namjoon , make up artist!OC x rapper!yoongi , Taekook ]

Part two - namjoon and his friends 

~ midnight ~ 

<prev x next>

[ Idol!reader x rapper!namjoon , make up artist!OC x rapper!yoongi , Taekook ]

part three - not to be rude or anything 

~ midnight ~

<prev x next> 

The Wall(s) Between Us

Chapter 1 → Yoongi hooks up with a girl from the club.

pairing: sope (endgame), yoongi/original female character genre: smut, modern au, roommates, mutual pining tags and warnings: explicit 🔞 bttm!yoongi, top!oc, hook-ups with strangers, light dom/sub, cunnilingus, blowjobs, pegging, anal sex, light voyeurism word count: 3,579

Read on AO3 ♡

Read under the cut ⬎

•

Yoongi's hands ran over her soft, supple thighs as he devoured her. Hungry lick after lick and swirl of his tongue on her pretty pink lips and nub, tongue dipping down every now and then to tease her entrance. She moaned low in her throat, licking her lips as she peered down at him with hazy, yet sharp brown eyes.

She called herself Mel, either short for Milly, or Melany, Yoongi couldn't remember.

Hoseok had insisted for them to go clubbing despite his many complaints, claiming Yoongi had been closed off in their flat for a little too long to be healthy. He would have never agreed to such a ridiculous idea, but Hoseok looked amazing, colourful silk shirt open at the top with his chest in view and light makeup around his eyes that made him look incredibly appetising.

However, when they finally got in and had drinks in their hands, Hoseok drifted toward the dancefloor and began grinding against flirty strangers, leaving him alone at their booth and feeling a little rejected (or a lot, maybe. Definitely).

That's when Mel approached him. And honestly? He couldn't have been more thankful.

Her taste was soft, yet tangy on his tongue as he rut down on his bedsheets. He closed his eyes and greedily sucked the sweetness out of her, the feeling her her hips quivering arousing him as much as the taste itself. He swiped his tongue flat against her sex, hearing her sigh softly above him, and he groped her thighs tight between his fingers in an attempt to tease her further.

"Careful with the hands, baby" she spoke up, voice breathy, but domineering. He looked up at her and felt his breath stutter in his chest at the way she eyed him. Dark and predatory, a small smirk in warning.

It reminded Yoongi of Hoseok.

She'd been very straightforward from the beginning, her pretty dark hair shining as it fell over her shoulders in waves. She'd told him how pretty he was, how much of a pity it was he was alone. He'd looked at her a little shocked, cheeks going pink at the unusual compliment, and she'd chuckled in response.

"I'm sorry, you looked so cute I couldn't help myself."

Yoongi had shook his head, attempting to grin back at her, but finding himself too dumbfounded. Women had never approached him that way before.

"That's quite alright," he'd said sheepishly, brushing a stray lock away from his face.

She had looked as though she wanted to devour him.

"Sorry," he said before lapping his tongue over her pussy a couple more times. Then, he flicked her nub fast, but softly, simply trying to rile her up further.

Her moans grew louder, hands carding through his hair and gripping it loosely as she spread her legs. He kept running his hands over them, her skin appearing almost copper under the dim lighting of his bedroom. His fingers were calloused, some of his hookups adoring the feeling of them over their skin, so he dragged them up and down, savouring her every movement as he licked and licked and licked.

He was so hard, probably already leaking through his boxers as he kept grinding down on the bed. He let his desperation seep through his ministrations, tongue digging a little harder into her flesh and rubbing little, wet circles over her clit. Her breath hitched before letting a long moan escape her lips, hips bucking further into his mouth in response.

"God, you're good," she groaned, fingers tightening in his hair just enough to make their presence known. "I bet you suck dick just as well."

Yoongi laughed, tilting his head up with a fucked-out smile. He probably looked a mess, lips and chin dripping wet, face hot and red from arousal.

"Wanna bet?"

The tongue in his mouth was commanding as the hand on his jaw slid to the back of his head, scratching his scalp pleasantly before tugging hard at his hair.

"Ngk- Wha-"

"That too much for you baby?"

Yoongi let out a shaky exhale.

"N-no."

She licked her lips and smiled sweetly.

"Great."

Her free hand slid between his legs and gripped high on his thigh, nails digging into the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. He shivered and groaned something needy, blush high on his cheeks at the way she slowly took him apart.

"God I knew you were perfect when I saw you across the bar," she dipped down to mouth at his neck.

"Usually people get the opposite impression from me," he muttered with a playful smile she couldn't see as he enjoyed the feeling of her teeth scraping over his pulse.

"You? No," she scoffed. "You looked so lost and small next to your friend. So pretty," another hard kiss that had his breath hitching in surprise. "Almost thought you were his from the way he moved around you, before he took to the dancefloor."

Yoongi stilled for a moment before sighing sadly.

Yeah, if only that were true.

Her fingers tightened around his hair and Yoongi couldn't help but shudder at the pain. It stung so badly, and he cried out desperately, hips pressing hard into the mattress.

"Look at you," she chuckled. "So cute."

He pouted, eyes screwing shut in embarrassment.

"Fuck," he grunted, hips rolling down on the bed, head starting to swim from both the pain and praise.

She didn't seem to approve though, tutting at Yoongi and telling him to look at her. He bit his lip but opened his eyes again, looking up at her through his lashes.

"There you go," she smiled, free hand coming down to touch herself. "You really are so pretty. You gonna let me fuck your mouth with your toys after I cum on your tongue?" He nodded desperately, rolling his hips faster over his sheets. "Gonna let me fuck you with them, too?"

Yoongi moaned louder at her words, head dipping down to lick her once more. She used her fingers to spread herself for him and he lapped her like his life depended on it. He sucked on her sensitive flesh, licked and teased and pressed hard against her clit, and felt the way she trembled and sighed the closer he brought her to her climax.

"Oh I bet you're gonna look so pretty with a cock in your mouth," she moaned. "You love a nice cock stretching your throat as much as a wet pussy, don't you, baby?"

Yoongi couldn't take it anymore, tongue rubbing hard against her as his hips moved fast and desperate. His orgasm hit him like an avalanche, making him shake like a leaf as he moaned desperately onto her heated flesh. Under him, she came just as hard, soft sighs growing heavier and deeper as she closed her thighs around his head, fingers tightening in his hair as she bucked her hips into him hard. Yoongi kept rutting as he rode his climax, the pain in his hair and suffocating heat from her body driving him further and further, seeing stars behind his eyes as he whimpered.

They lay panting on his bed for a while, Yoongi's face resting on her thigh as he caught his breath and rested his tired muscles. She pet his hair and stroked his cheek absentmindedly, fucked out and blissful as she enjoyed his warmth.

It was in the midst of this respite that they noticed they weren't alone anymore.

"Your place or mine, baby boy?" She asked with a cheeky smile.

He swallowed hard, face burning as her hand kept drifting over his crotch despite the very public setting they were in. For reasons he'd rather not contemplate, the way anyone could see him being touched only aroused him further.

"My hum, my apartment is close," he spoke, voice gravely, almost weak. "But my friend, the guy you saw with me, he lives with me too and might come back with a partner of his own. Does that bother you?"

She shrugged.

"Only if it bothers him," she said.

Yoongi heard someone moan. It sounded nothing like Hoseok, but it was long and drawn-out, like he had just started getting touched and it felt satisfying, like an itch being scratched.

He froze, heart beating faster and stomach dropping as it really hit him that Hoseok was the one touching that man, making him react that way. It felt so wrong to hear it, but worst of all he felt incredibly petty for feeling that way to begin with.

"Mel," Yoongi said as he sat up, reaching over to comb her hair over her shoulder, watching it fan over his bedsheets in the process. He smiled at her, a little forced but mischievous nonetheless. "Wanna make more noise than them?"

She grinned wide, a smile that promised nothing good.

She kissed him deeply one last time, tongue tasting him deeply, gooseflesh rippling across his skin as she dug her palm onto the front of his jeans shamelessly. He gasped into her mouth, eyes opening in surprise. She hummed and kept rubbing her tongue deep in his mouth, drawing a moan from him as he held onto her waist.

In his daze, he locked eyes with him across the club.

Hoseok was staring directly at him, the man he was with dancing close to his body. His gaze was focused, expression dead serious as he took Yoongi in. The hand between his legs dug harder into his crotch and he squirmed, whimpering into her mouth. It felt so good, to be touched, and worst (read: best) of all, to have Hoseok's sharp, hungry eyes on him as he drowned in sensation. It stung in a way, being looked at that way while knowing he didn't feel what Yoongi wished he felt, but for that moment, he let himself be lulled by that fantasy.

He let his eyes flutter closed as he let himself be consumed, that overwhelming pleasure coursing through him as though he were dazed.

When he opened them once more, almost like a spell being broken, Hoseok was no longer there.

"Let's see your stash, baby."

He walked over to his closet, readjusting himself in his pants and wincing as he felt the mess he made in them. He bit his bottom lip, that dirty feeling stirring him to his core and making his spent cock twitch.

He reached the box he kept hidden, obscured by shoe boxes and long coats. He promptly brought it to Mel, opened it and presented his toys to her. His collection wasn't anything special, but it contained the essentials-- a dildo, a vibrator, a couple of butt plugs, and a strap-on.

"Oh, how nice! Thank you." She said with mirth, absentmindedly biting on her thumb, as she touched the various items with interest. Finally, she took out the strap and the plug and looked up at him with a proud smile. "Now strip for me."

He stood up from the bed and took his shirt off. Opposite him, she crossed her legs and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She was already naked from their previous activities, but her hair fell over her chest in a way that made her look more modest than she actually was. She really was beautiful, all tan skin, full hips and dark, voluminous hair. Yoongi quickly discarded himself of his jeans and socks, as well as his soiled underwear, arms wrapping themselves around his body shyly.

"So messy," she cooed, ushering him closer and rubbing his hip bone. "Where do you keep the lube? Didn't see any in the box."

He reached for his bedside table and opened the first drawer. The lube bottle was more than half-used, making her chuckle as she gave him a look that bordered on mocking. If she'd thought of a remark, she didn't voice it, opting instead on asking him how he preferred to take it. Yoongi quickly climbed on his bed to get on all fours, face buried in his pillow with his ass propped up. His face burned with shame, feeling small and pathetic for presenting himself in such an undignified manner, but it was those very things that made it feel so, so good.

She playfully groped his ass before slipping one, then two fingers in, rubbing against his walls carefully and pistoning them in and out slowly. He didn't offer much resistance, body swallowing her up greedily as he trembled and whined under her. He groaned long and deep as she grew more confident, movements becoming rough and quick as he took everything she gave him.

By the time she added a third finger, Yoongi was panting. His forehead was buried in his inner elbow as his jaw hung open, a whimper escaping for every deep stroke he made.

On the other side of the wall, he could hear moaning as well. It wasn't very often yet, but every pleasured sound startled Yoongi and made the poison of his jealousy spread a little deeper. He wondered if Hoseok had heard his hook-up moan, if he'd heard the things she told Yoongi. He wondered what he thought, of him submitting so diligently to a beautiful girl and getting aroused by the filthy things she told him.

He wondered if Hoseok would soon hear him moan as he got fucked. He wondered if it would maybe make Hoseok feel something, anything.

The thought, as sad as it was, thrilled and spurred him on.

Mel withdrew his fingers, satisfied with her work, and substituted them with one of his plugs. Yoongi hummed, wiggling his hips and taking in the filling sensation. Then, she stood back up and began to strap the harness against her body.

"If you want, you can use my vibrator while you fuck me," he suggested as he slowly sat down, a little out of breath. "At least you'll get something out of it."

She laughed.

"If you seriously think I'm not gonna get a massive kick out of this, you're out of your mind." She stood at the edge of the bed and urged Yoongi closer, cupping his jaw and lifting it so he was facing her. "Now if you don't mind I'm going to fuck your mouth, okay baby?"

Yoongi breathed in deeply, worrying his lip between his teeth as he nodded, excitement tingling his skin. She brushed her thumb over his lip and prodded it open. He peeked his tongue out as well, wanting to show her how good he could be as she slowly thrust in his mouth experimentally.

"If I'm going too far just tap out, okay?"

Yoongi moaned around the silicone in response, eyes fluttering closed as he revelled in the weight pressing against his tongue. It really had been too long since he'd last hooked up.

She slid in and out, testing out Yoongi's limits before grabbing onto his hair and rolling her hips faster, deeper, making his breath stutter as she nearly reached his reflex.

He opened his eyes in surprise, fists clenching over his thighs as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

"So far so good, baby," she cooed. "You're taking it so well... You really like doing it with your mouth, huh? Always biting or touching your lips, getting off as you ate me, and now this..."

Yoongi could only moan in response, feeling himself grow hard once again.

She picked up the face once more, going deeper for longer, trying to gauge Yoongi's limit without hurting him, but soon enough she was reaching the back of his throat.

He gagged loudly on the silicone and she quickly withdrew from him so he could breathe.

"No," he moaned weakly, tears gathering in his eyes. "I didn't tap out..."

Mel laughed, something dark at the edges of her voice.

"If that's what my baby wants..."

She thrust all the way in, hitting his gag reflex once more. He reached out for her hips, grabbing her for support as she kept a steady but brutal rhythm in and out of his throat, constantly reaching that sensitive spot and drawing obscene noises that echoed throughout the room. Tears were falling down his face, the intrusion going too far for what his body could take but the strain feeling too good to deny.

Yoongi felt a bit guilty for it, but he imagined the one fucking his mouth so roughly was Hoseok instead. He imagined the hips he held onto were his friend's, the cock in his mouth real and leaking precum over his tongue, that the filthy things Mel told him came from Hoseok's playful voice.

On the other side of the wall the moans were growing louder. He tried paying attention but he couldn't hear Hoseok's voice, only the man he was with. He found himself hoping for his friend's voice to come through, for any sign of him truly being there, right there on the other side of that wall.

Mel retracted the strap from Yoongi's mouth and ran a hand through his hair, then down to his cheek. She leaned down to kiss his forehead and mumbled a "good job" that made him grin a silly smile, feeling the remaining tears fall down his cheeks as he did so. His throat felt raw, eyes stinging, but it felt so good.

She moved him on the bed so he was once more on all fours, ass up for her as she rubbed his cheeks. She removed his plug slowly, drawing it back in and out experimentally and watching him squirm under her.

He was completely hard at that point, the blowjob having done more than enough to awaken his body's interest, but the teasing around his hole was making him leak filthily down onto his bedsheets.

Behind him, he heard her opening his lubricant once more, as well as the wet sounds of her spreading it over the spit-slick strap. She drew herself closer and rubbed the tip against his hole before slowly pushing in. It wasn't too difficult of a stretch, especially with all the prep they'd done before, but Yoongi still felt winded by it. It hadn't been too long since he'd been filled up like that, but he'd been alone. Having it done by someone other than yourself, that felt completely different. This way, he felt powerless, completely at her mercy, like she could control his every move from their position -- which she probably could.

Her trusts were slow at first, but with Yoongi's needy whining and shivering body, she quickly increased the pace into a brutal one. She rolled her rips in ways that hit him in all the right spots and made him moan out loud and unashamed, clawing at his bedsheets and pleading for something, anything.

"You should see yourself, Yoongi-ah," she mused, a smile evident in her voice. "So wet and sloppy, taking me in like you were made for taking it."

Yoongi choked on a moan, thrusting back against her in search for more and more of that feeling. His climax was building up faster than he could have anticipated, the deep filling sensation of the strap, Mel's soothing voice, the feeling of vulnerability, and, as depraved as it might be, the notion that Hoseok could hear him come undone at every passing moment.

On the other side of the wall he faced was the man he was in madly love with, his best friend and roommate and partner in crime. Said friend who was currently fucking someone other than himself, while he himself got fucked, making enough noise for their neighbours to hear because of how far gone he was in pleasure.

He whined and moaned, his deep voice growing impatient and higher in pitch as he came closer and closer to being undone.

"Yeah, you like that?" Hoseok groaned from the other side of the wall, voice rough and and heated.

Yoongi's heart hammered against his chest, excitement crawling under his skin as he heard his friend speak so darkly. He didn't think when he mewled out a loud "yes", mouth hanging open as he came over his bedsheets. His body trembled as he ground down over Mel's hips, trying to take more of the dildo as he his thighs and arms burned from carrying his weight, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through him.

Once spent, he stilled, waiting for her to thrust out so he could lay down, small aftershocks running down his spine and tingling his weary limbs. Once she pulled out, she gathered his covers and wrapped them both up, huddling close to him and petting his heated skin. It was soothing, feeling his heartbeat slow down over time as their bodies warmed each other up.

On the other side of the wall things seemed to have calmed down as well, the room silent if not for Yoongi's laboured breathing.

His eyes felt heavy as he struggled to keep them open, feeling his body becoming heavier as he was slowly lulled into sleep.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "That felt really good."

"No problem," she smiled into the back of his neck and pressed a gentle kiss into his hair.

As he drifted off, he wondered if Hoseok, too, was cuddling his lover in his bed. He also briefly wondered if he would ever consider Yoongi for a partner instead.

He quickly shoved such a fantasy into the back of his mind, hoping it would fall into obscurity.

TBC

•

I hope you enjoyed! 💗

Tip jar 💟 Commission sheet

Okay, I'm saving this for later 👀

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 

Intimate. That would be a better choice. 

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty. 

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing. 

You just lost all your tips for the night. 

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 

Fuck. 

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it. 

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 

No one serves him but you. 

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath. 

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased. 

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 

No one calls the Devil by his first name. 

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 

No one except you. 

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 

The King of Hell. 

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 

And maybe he is. 

But not to you. 

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 

Yoongi. 

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 

And he looks like sin incarnate. 

Fitting. 

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you. 

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”  

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” 

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 

Beautiful. 

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait— 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 

You’ve decided. 

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 

And apparently neither does Yoongi. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 

You trust Yoongi. 

“That's a good girl.” 

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?” 

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 

You’re the most powerful person here. 

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you. 

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 

Perfect in every single way. 

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 

Not yet. 

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 

Ever.  

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 

There was only you. 

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming. 

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 

It’s yours. 

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?” 

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.” 

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 

You just know it. 

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 

You never expected anything like that. 

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 

Because of you.  

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that. 

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 

He was yours now. 

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

melted kisses | myg

summary. yoongi's kisses are always sickly sweet. but the taste of melted sugar on his lips makes you crave him more than the plate of sugar coated fruits.

────

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship au

word count: 1.9k

summary: yoongi and reader makes tanghulu together / yoongi very midly burns himself / makeout session ensues after their cooking / reader is elementary school teacher

warnings: making out, allusions to sex

a/n: yay im finally finished with exams!!! this was supposed to be posted next week but it's bts' 11th anniversary so 😋 also im very sorry that the drabbes are jumping around in the timeline, i will eventually put them in chronological order

main masterlist

────

"I'm an amazing cook, I don't know what you're on about," Yoongi grumbled as he pulled your back closer against his bare chest. You whined as the cool metal of the silver necklace he wore pressed against your back which caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

“I’m just saying. I’m not the one who blended chicken and other shit into a smoothie so I didn’t have to cook for the rest of the day.”

“That was one time. I’m a changed person now, love.”

"Whatever you say, babe."

You giggled softly and Yoongi huffed into your shoulder before he placed a soft kiss against your naked skin.

"You just can't admit that I'm a better cook than you."

You rolled your eyes at his words and turned your head slightly in an attempt to look at him. You could just about see his tired eyes that were closed shut.

"Fine. Next time we're both free, we're making tanghulu."

A lazy smile tugged at the corners of Yoongi's lips as his eyes scrunched into crescent moons.

"You were just waiting for an excuse to make tanghulu, weren't you?"

You hummed in response. You had mentioned the sweet snacks to him frequently, sending him numerous videos with recipes on how to make them.

"Yep. And you fell right into my trap," you giggled. You felt as Yoongi's body shook with airy laughter behind you.

"Ah, you're so annoying."

"You love me anyway," you said with a grin.

"I know," he whispered. He brushed aside your hair to press a kiss onto your temple and drifted off into a peaceful slumber within a few minutes.

────

In all honesty, Yoongi had completely forgotten about your agreement. He had thought you would too, as you were both too giddy and drunk on sex.

But when you arrived home after work the next day with a bag full of ingredients, the only words that stumbled from Yoongi’s mouth were to ask you why you hadn’t used his card to buy everything.

“It’s fine, I had cash on me,” you say, swatting away his words as you place the bag onto the marble countertops.

“Still.” Yoongi’s eyes watch your movements as you begin arranging all of the ingredients into different plates and bowls. 

“Babe, it’s not like I’m poor or something. Plus, I’m the one forcing you to do this.”

A sly smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you look back at him, and he playfully rolls his eyes before making his way over to you.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest or something? You just came back from work," he says as you start cutting the leaves of the strawberries off.

"Mhm, I’m sure. Can you get the small pot for me? The one we used for ramen yesterday."

Yoongi obliges and places the pot on the stove. You take the bowl of strawberries and bring it under the sink to rinse them. 

It wasn’t often that you would eat strawberries, always complaining about the millions of bugs within them. So when you did decide to have them, you made sure that they were squeaky clean even though it took more time. Yoongi thought they tasted the same either way, but never complained about your antics. 

During the early stages of your relationship, you both rarely got to spend time with each other, whether it was due to his work life or your college classes. Your preferences and quirks meant that a few extra minutes could be spent in your presence, so it didn't bother him in the least.

He moves to the rest of the ingredients and spots three tangerines lying together in a glass bowl.

"You got tangerines?" he asks, taking one into his hands. He throws it into the air like a tennis ball and catches it with ease.

You nod eagerly, a smile plastered onto your face as you look up at him.

"You love them so I wanted to try them out along with the strawberries and grapes. If we end up not liking it, you can have the rest."

Yoongi simply smiles as you bring the freshly cleaned strawberries back to the counter, a familiar, warm feeling tugging at his heartstrings.

He listens to the recipe you read off from your phone and places half a cup of sugar into the pot of water to melt before making his way behind you. He wraps his arms around you and lightly squeezes your body.

He had missed the warmth of your skin against his, and the light smell of your signature perfume. He had even missed the way your voice melodically bounced off the walls of his usually silent home.

Was he being dramatic about you being gone for nine hours? Yes. Was he going to stop? No.

"How was work?"

He places a kiss against your neck before moving his head down to rest on your shoulder, his narrow eyes watching you work carefully. 

"Good. A kid called me mom today and it was literally the cutest thing!"

He laughs softly as you place the knife down and bring your hands to your heart to emphasise your point.

"Mhm, that is cute."

A beat of silence passes before he whispers into your ear.

"I missed you."

It's embarrassing how fast the heat rises to your cheeks at his words, even after this many years of being together.

"I missed you too."

By the time you finish peeling the tangerines, cutting the strawberries and plucking the grapes off their stems, the sugar has fully melted. It would've taken half the time if you had an extra pair of helping hands, but you didn't want Yoongi's arms to move from where they rested around your waist.

Unfortunately, he's forced to peel away from your body as you lower the heat of the thick syrup and begin pushing the pieces of fruit onto skewers.

You playfully scold Yoongi whenever you catch him plopping one into his mouth before asking him to feed you one too.

"We need to stop, or there's gonna be none left by the end," Yoongi says, and you sigh in agreement.

Still, you sneak a slice of tangerine into your mouth, simply placing a peck on Yoongi's lips when he catches you.

In a few minutes, you have two plates filled with multicoloured fruits on skewers ready to be dipped.

You work carefully with the sugar syrup, and you’re surprised at how well the first few pieces turn out. 

"See, I told you! I'm just such an amazing cook," you say, waving the freshly coated skewer in front of him.

"This isn’t even that hard. Here, let me try."

Yoongi moves you to the side and takes a skewer. He tilts the pot to the side and rolls the fruits into the syrup, thickly coating it. He then puts it into a bowl of ice water for it to cool and begins working on the next one.

This time, however, he happens to reach too far into the pot and manages to dip the tip of his finger straight into the melted sugar. 

The hot substance takes a few seconds to do damage, giving Yoongi enough time to place the skewer into the water before swiftly pulling back his hand.

"Shit."

He wipes off the hardening liquid onto a small towel, but it leaves his skin red and angry.

"Babe, I told you to be careful! Are you OK?"

You step towards him and take his hand into yours. It wasn't serious, but there was now a tiny bump forming on the pad of his index finger.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It isn't even that big, see?"

"And? You still burned yourself," you huff.

Without another word, you look through the cabinets to find the burn ointment you had bought months ago as Yoongi protests.

"Seriously, love, it's fine. It doesn't hurt or anything."

"Still."

You successfully locate the ointment within your medicine box. You never really knew why Yoongi kept it in the kitchen, but his actions had proved useful.

You unscrew the cap and apply the tiniest amount onto his finger. He winces as you rub it into his skin, and you whisper an apology.

"There. Now, you've been fired as my co-chef and this also clarifies that I am clearly the better cook."

"That's not fair!"

"Sucks," you say with a shrug of your shoulders as you place the burn ointment back where you had found it.

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a playful scowl and moves to sit on the counter as you work on finishing the rest of the fruits.

Soon enough, the two plates are filled with fruits on skewers with a glassy finish to them. You watch a video to make sure you clean the pot of melted sugar properly and Yoongi offers to clean the rest of the kitchen up as you do so.

You reluctantly agree after seeing that his burn was starting to look less angry. After cleaning the pot and leaving it in the sink with a few other dishes from earlier in the day, you prop yourself onto the counter.

Yoongi finds himself standing between your legs not even a minute later, and you watch eagerly as you give him the first taste test.

His eyebrows scrunch together as he evaluates the taste, clearly taking his job very seriously.

"So?"

"Damn. That's really good. Have a bite."

You smile widely, proud of your work. He points the rest of the skewer at you, but you bring your lips to his and use your tongue to swipe the sugar from his lips. 

"You're right, it is good!"

You smile at the blush that creeps across his pale skin as he takes another bite, failing to hide his timid smile.

You both manage to eat around four skewers worth of fruit, sharing each one between you. Yoongi sneaks kisses against your cheeks and jaw after every few bites, enjoying how he left you a little flustered after each one.

"You're gonna get my face sticky with the sugar," you complain, though you both know you don't want him to stop.

"I'll just lick the stickiness off," he says with a shrug.

"Ew, you're disgusting."

He laughs at the whine in your voice, placing another kiss on the corner of your lips.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, moving his mouth down onto your neck.

You tilt your neck to give him better access, stealing another skewer as you do so.

"Don't leave any marks, I have school tomorrow."

"The kids won't even know what they are," he mumbles, moving his tongue to gently graze your skin.

"Yeah they will! Kids are very modern nowadays, and there's only so many times I can say I burned myself with my curling iron."

Yoongi smiles against your neck and you leave the skewer in your hand to be forgotten on the counter. Your hands find their way into his grown-out locks, and you gently tug at the roots.

You bring his head back to meet your lips again, and the taste of melted sugar on his tongue drives you insane. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in even closer.

You find yourself smiling against him as his hands move up to cup your cheeks.

Yoongi doesn’t mind being called a bad cook as much if this is how every cooking session was going to end with you.

Melted Kisses

Yoongi's kisses are always sickly sweet. But the taste of melted sugar on his lips makes you crave him more than the plate of sugar coated fruits.

────

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship au

word count: 1.9k

summary: yoongi and reader makes tanghulu together / yoongi very midly burns himself / makeout session ensues after their cooking / reader is elementary school teacher

warnings: making out, allusions to sex

notes: yay im finally finished with exams!!! this was supposed to be posted next week but it's bts' 11th anniversary so 😋 also im very sorry that the drabbes are jumping around in the timeline, i will eventually put them in chronological order

────

"I'm an amazing cook, I don't know what you're on about," Yoongi grumbled as he pulled your back closer against his bare chest. You whined as the cool metal of the silver necklace he wore pressed against your back which caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

“I’m just saying. I’m not the one who blended chicken and other shit into a smoothie so I didn’t have to cook for the rest of the day.”

“That was one time! I’m a changed person now, love.”

"Whatever you say, babe."

You giggled softly and Yoongi huffed into your shoulder before he placed a soft kiss against your naked skin.

"You just can't admit that I'm a better cook than you."

You rolled your eyes at his words and turned your head slightly in an attempt to look at him. You could just about see his tired eyes that were closed shut.

"Fine. Next time we're both free, we're making tanghulu."

A lazy smile tugged at the corners of Yoongi's lips as his eyes scrunched into crescent moons.

"You were just waiting for an excuse to make tanghulu, weren't you?"

You hummed in response. You had mentioned the sweet snacks to him frequently, sending him numerous videos with recipes on how to make them.

"Yep. And you fell right into my trap," you giggled. You felt as Yoongi's body shook with airy laughter behind you.

"Ah, you're so annoying."

"You love me anyway," you said with a grin.

"I know," he whispered. He brushed aside your hair to press a kiss onto your temple and drifted off into a peaceful slumber within a few minutes.

────

In all honesty, Yoongi had completely forgotten about your agreement. He had thought you would too, as you were both too giddy and drunk on sex.

But when you arrived home after work the next day with a bag full of ingredients, the only words that stumbled from Yoongi’s mouth were to ask you why you hadn’t used his card to buy everything.

“It’s fine, I had cash on me,” you say, swatting away his words as you place the bag onto the marble countertops.

“Still.” Yoongi’s eyes watch your movements as you begin arranging all of the ingredients into different plates and bowls. 

“Babe, it’s not like I’m poor or something. Plus, I’m the one forcing you to do this.”

A sly smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you look back at him, and he playfully rolls his eyes before making his way over to you.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest or something? You just came back from work," he says as you start cutting the leaves of the strawberries off.

"Mhm, I’m sure. Can you get the small pot for me? The one we used for ramen yesterday."

Yoongi obliges and places the pot on the stove. You take the bowl of strawberries and bring it under the sink to rinse them. 

It wasn’t often that you would eat strawberries, always complaining about the millions of bugs within them. So when you did decide to have them, you made sure that they were squeaky clean even though it took more time. Yoongi thought they tasted the same either way, but never complained about your antics. 

During the early stages of your relationship, you both rarely got to spend time with each other, whether it was due to his work life or your college classes. Your preferences and quirks meant that a few extra minutes could be spent in your presence, so it didn't bother him in the least.

He moves to the rest of the ingredients and spots three tangerines lying together in a glass bowl.

"You got tangerines?" he asks, taking one into his hands. He throws it into the air like a tennis ball and catches it with ease.

You nod eagerly, a smile plastered onto your face as you look up at him.

"You love them so I wanted to try them out along with the strawberries and grapes. If we end up not liking it, you can have the rest."

Yoongi simply smiles as you bring the freshly cleaned strawberries back to the counter, a familiar, warm feeling tugging at his heartstrings.

He listens to the recipe you read off from your phone and places half a cup of sugar into the pot of water to melt before making his way behind you. He wraps his arms around you and lightly squeezes your body.

He had missed the warmth of your skin against his, and the light smell of your signature perfume. He had even missed the way your voice melodically bounced off the walls of his usually silent home.

Was he being dramatic about you being gone for nine hours? Yes. Was he going to stop? No.

"How was work?"

He places a kiss against your neck before moving his head down to rest on your shoulder, his narrow eyes watching you work carefully. 

"Good. A kid called me mom today and it was literally the cutest thing!"

He laughs softly as you place the knife down and bring your hands to your heart to emphasise your point.

"Mhm, that is cute."

A beat of silence passes before he whispers into your ear.

"I missed you."

It's embarrassing how fast the heat rises to your cheeks at his words, even after this many years of being together.

"I missed you too."

By the time you finish peeling the tangerines, cutting the strawberries and plucking the grapes off their stems, the sugar has fully melted. It would've taken half the time if you had an extra pair of helping hands, but you didn't want Yoongi's arms to move from where they rested around your waist.

Unfortunately, he's forced to peel away from your body as you lower the heat of the thick syrup and begin pushing the pieces of fruit onto skewers.

You playfully scold Yoongi whenever you catch him plopping one into his mouth before asking him to feed you one too.

"We need to stop, or there's gonna be none left by the end," Yoongi says, and you sigh in agreement.

Still, you sneak a slice of tangerine into your mouth, simply placing a peck on Yoongi's lips when he catches you.

In a few minutes, you have two plates filled with multicoloured fruits on skewers ready to be dipped.

You work carefully with the sugar syrup, and you’re surprised at how well the first few pieces turn out. 

"See, I told you! I'm just such an amazing cook," you say, waving the freshly coated skewer in front of him.

"This isn’t even that hard. Here, let me try."

Yoongi moves you to the side and takes a skewer. He tilts the pot to the side and rolls the fruits into the syrup, thickly coating it. He then puts it into a bowl of ice water for it to cool and begins working on the next one.

This time, however? he happens to reach too far into the pot and manages to dip the tip of his finger straight into the melted sugar. 

The hot substance takes a few seconds to do damage, giving Yoongi enough time to place the skewer into the water before swiftly pulling back his hand.

"Shit."

He wipes off the hardening liquid onto a small towel, but it leaves his skin red and angry.

"Babe, I told you to be careful! Are you OK?"

You step towards him and take his hand into yours. It wasn't serious, but there was now a tiny bump forming on the pad of his index finger.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It isn't even that big, see?"

"And? You still burned yourself," you huff.

Without another word, you look through the cabinets to find the burn ointment you had bought months ago as Yoongi protests.

"Seriously, love, it's fine. It doesn't hurt or anything."

"Still."

You successfully locate the ointment within your medicine box. You never really knew why Yoongi kept it in the kitchen, but his actions had proved useful.

You unscrew the cap and apply the tiniest amount onto his finger. He winces as you rub it into his skin, and you whisper an apology.

"There. Now, you've been fired as my co-chef and this also clarifies that I am clearly the better cook."

"That's not fair!"

"Sucks," you say with a shrug of your shoulders as you place the burn ointment back where you had found it.

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a playful scowl and moves to sit on the counter as you work on finishing the rest of the fruits.

Soon enough, the two plates are filled with fruits on skewers with a glassy finish to them. You watch a video to make sure you clean the pot of melted sugar properly and Yoongi offers to clean the rest of the kitchen up as you do so.

You reluctantly agree after seeing that his burn was starting to look less angry. After cleaning the pot and leaving it in the sink with a few other dishes from earlier in the day, you prop yourself onto the counter.

Yoongi finds himself standing between your legs not even a minute later, and you watch eagerly as you give him the first taste test.

His eyebrows scrunch together as he evaluates the taste, clearly taking his job very seriously.

"So?"

"Damn. That's really good. Have a bite."

You smile widely, proud of your work. He points the rest of the skewer at you, but you bring your lips to his and use your tongue to swipe the sugar from his lips. 

"You're right, it is good!"

You smile at the blush that creeps across his pale skin as he takes another bite, failing to hide his timid smile.

You both manage to eat around four skewers worth of fruit, sharing each one between you. Yoongi sneaks kisses against your cheeks and jaw after every few bites, enjoying how he left you a little flustered after each one.

"You're gonna get my face sticky with the sugar," you complain, though you both know you don't want him to stop.

"I'll just lick the stickiness off," he says with a shrug.

"Ew, you're disgusting."

He laughs at the whine in your voice, placing another kiss on the corner of your lips.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, moving his mouth down onto your neck.

You tilt your neck to give him better access, stealing another skewer as you do so.

"Don't leave any marks, I have school tomorrow."

"The kids won't even know what they are," he mumbles, moving his tongue to gently graze your skin.

"Yeah they will! Kids are very modern nowadays, and there's only so many times I can say I burned myself with my curling iron."

Yoongi smiles against your neck and you leave the skewer in your hand to be forgotten on the counter. Your hands find their way into his grown-out locks, and you gently tug at the roots.

You bring his head back to meet your lips again, and the taste of melted sugar on his tongue drives you insane. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in even closer.

You find yourself smiling against him as his hands move up to cup your cheeks.

If this was how every cooking session ended between you, Yoongi wouldn't mind being called a bad cook as much.

healing touches | myg

summary. sometimes, your boyfriend's tender touches and caring actions help heal your fragile state faster than any medication.

────

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship au

word count: 2.2k

content: yoongi comes home to find you sick / he makes you food / reader can't help but fall asleep literally everywhere / yoongi loves you too much 😪😪

warnings: very brief mentions of passing out

a/n: im a slut for sick fics and i couldn't find many yoongi ones so i decided to just write one 😋 if anyone has any ideas for fluffy or suggestive yoongi drabbles feel free to drop them in my asks 🙏🙏

main masterlist

────

"I'm home!"

Yoongi's voice echoes through the house and he furrows his eyebrows at the lack of response to his words.

Usually, he would meet you at the lobby of your shared apartment on weekdays, as you would often stay back to grade a few assignments or prepare for the next day. On the days he didn't meet you, he would hear your footsteps as you made your way to greet him, or some sort of noise to prove that you were busy doing something.

But today, there was nothing but silence. Yoongi shrugs it off. You probably just lost track of time.

He makes his way into the living room and places the keys onto the small key holder on the wall.

He begins to remove his jacket but his actions still when he finds you sitting on the couch, a large blanket completely wrapped around you. The TV in front of you was on, but the sound was barely audible and your head was turned away from whatever you had put on to rest against the leather sofa.

Yoongi folds his jacket over his arm as he makes his way over to you.

"Did you get back from work early today?" He asks, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You groan softly as you stir, slowly moving your head up to look at him through squinted eyes. You were going to whine about how he had disturbed your sleep, but decide against it. Complaining needed energy, energy that you currently lacked.

"Didn't go today. Called in sick."

A bead of sweat rolls down your temple and you begin to move out of the warm confinements of your blanket. Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you, reaching out his hand to place it against your forehead.

You didn't have a fever, but your words came out dry and broken and there was a clear flush to your cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me? Are you still feeling sick?"

You nod softly and move the blanket to the opposite end of the couch. You cringe at how your top sticks to your body from the sweat coating your skin.

"I just had a headache in the morning so I didn't think much of it. But after you left, I was like cold all of a sudden so I used the thermometer and it said I had a fever."

You leave out the part where you almost fainted in the bathroom as you changed back into your pyjamas after calling in sick, not wanting to worry your already worried boyfriend.

"You should've called me, I would've left work in a heartbeat," he says as he presses his lips against your forehead.

You ignore the way your heart flutters at his words, failing to bite back a smile.

"It wasn't even that bad, don't worry. Plus, I'm pretty sure the fever pretty soon after. I just fell asleep on the couch."

"Still. Did you take any medicine?"

"Yeah, I took some painkillers for the headache."

You notice how dry your voice is in your throat, wincing at the pain when you try to swallow.

"Did it help?"

"Not really, but I'm fine now so."

Yoongi places his jacket on the couch and makes his way to the medicine box he had placed in one of the kitchen cabinets, having to look through each one before finding it. He takes two tablets and brings them over to you along with a glass of water.

"I'm fine now, babe, seriously," you mumble, reluctantly taking the tablets and the glass from his hands.

"I don't wanna take any chances, love. Drink up."

He watches you as you tip the glass over your mouth and gulp down its contents. You hand it back over to him with a small sigh, and he places it down on the coffee table.

Your eyes scan over Yoongi's body. He's wearing a simple black hoodie, the one you steal from him the most because of how comfy the fabric is.

You reach out your arms invitingly, wanting nothing more than to melt in his arms after not seeing him the entire day.

"I don't wanna get you more sick though," he says, tilting his head as he runs his hands through his grown-out hair.

A small pout forms on your lips and you throw him a scowl.

"I'll get more sick and die right now if you don't cuddle me."

Yoongi laughs at your words. His gums are on display and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons.

"So dramatic," he mumbles.

The leather beside you sinks beneath his weight as he sits down and you instantly wrap yourself around him. His body radiates warmth and you throw one leg over his lap, snuggling your head closer into his chest.

────

You don't quite remember falling asleep, but when your eyes flutter open, the sunlight in the room is replaced by blue rays emitting from the TV.

Goosebumps erupt across your back and you slightly shiver. The space beside you is empty, Yoongi is no longer there to provide you with any heat.

You blame the moody weather for the chills you feel across your body. You were starting to regret throwing away the patterned blanket a few hours earlier, desperately craving the warmth it had enveloped you with.

A few minutes go by and the only thing on your mind is how you were going to die of hypothermia any minute now. You had closed your eyes in hopes of falling asleep again, but your actions went in vain.

You let out a small groan as you turn your head to try to spot the blanket, trickles of pain erupting from your neck.

The fabric sat just out of your reach, and it seemed to mock your weak attempts at attempting to grab it.

You give up fairly quickly and resort to sitting completely still, trying to dull the ache that pulses through your limbs.

You hadn't been this sick in months and you felt as if this was the universe's way of reminding you how miserable it was.

"You OK?"

Yoongi's voice is deep and you look up to see him standing at the doorway to the living room carrying a plastic bag in one hand.

He throws his keys onto the counter and they hit the marble loudly.

His eyes squint against the harsh light of the TV as he sets down the bag and moves towards you.

"Yeah, I was just tryna get the blanket. Where were you?"

He brushes away a few strands of your hair before resting his hand against your forehead.

"Shit, you're burning up. I don't think a blanket is a good idea, love," he says.

"But it's freezinggg."

Your words come out as a small whine. Yoongi's eyes shift between you and the blanket, weighing out both options.

"How about you go to the bedroom and I can put a wet towel on your head, so you cool down while also being under the duvet?"

You practically shiver at the idea of a cold towel against your skin.

"Fine."

Yoongi reaches out his hand and you hold onto it as you stand up. It takes more energy than anticipated and you wince at the throb of pain in your legs.

"Where were you?" You repeat.

"Oh right. I was gonna make you rice porridge so I needed to get some stuff. Apparently it's great for when you're feeling sick."

You smile at your boyfriend and place a small kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks, baby."

"Mhm, no problem." Yoongi's grateful for the dim lighting of the room so that you don't have the satisfaction of seeing the blush that taints his cheeks.

"I'll bring it to the bedroom, you go lie down."

You nod before slowly making your way to the bedroom as Yoongi moves into the kitchen.

────

By the time Yoongi comes into the room with a bowl in his hand, you're fast asleep again.

You lie completely curled up and covered by the blankets. Your cheeks are flushed from the incredible warmth you are putting your body through.

Yoongi sits down on the mattress carefully, not wanting to disrupt your peace.

"Wake up, love. Your food's ready."

"Not hungry," you mumble, bringing your knees closer to your body.

"You're not gonna get any better if you stay hungry."

You huff and reluctantly stretch out your limbs. With great effort, you lazily sit up against the headboard of the bed.

Yoongi takes a spoonful of the rice porridge and brings it to your lips. You take a mouthful and swallow it down eagerly.

"Not hungry my ass," Yoongi says with an accusing stare and you laugh.

You can't shake off the warm feeling that fills your heart at the domestics of the entire scene at hand as you take another large bite.

You end up eating the entire bowl but decide against asking for seconds. The need to sleep was stronger than anything else right now.

Yoongi leaves the room to put the bowl back and bring you a wet towel. He returns to find you sleeping again.

Your body must be exhausted from fighting whatever sickness had overtaken you for you to be sleeping this much.

He gently places the towel over your forehead, pressing it down so that it doesn't slip off onto the mattress.

Your brows furrow at his actions but you don't wake up. His hand reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, mumbling under his breath.

"Pretty."

Yoongi never thought he would find the one. He believed in love, but the idea of finding someone he could think of as home always seemed too unrealistic, a mere fantasy he would sometimes use for inspiration in his lyrics.

He never thought that the simple thought of someone could brighten his day. Until he met you.

You were chaotic and quiet and everything in between. Someone people could talk to comfortably and freely, someone open-minded and thoughtful.

Everyone seemed to love you, which is why it confused Yoongi whenever you would get flustered at the compliments that fell from his lips.

He thought you would have been used to it. He didn't know how someone could talk to you without showering you with compliments.

When he had told you this one night during the first few months of your friendship—before you started dating—you had laughed, confessing how you rarely ever got compliments. Yoongi still remembers how he had stood there dumbfounded.

Ever since that night, he had made a vow to shower you with compliments.

However, the words soon turned into a habit. They weren't any less truthful, but he found himself whispering them to you even while you were out of earshot or while you slept, like now.

Yoongi stays by your side for a minute longer, simply admiring the way the lamp on your nightstand illuminates your features with its faint glow.

Eventually, he stands up, only to feel your hand grab his before he can take a step.

Your grip is loose and your eyes are still closed, but you lightly tug at the sleeve of his hoodie and he finds himself returning to your side.

"Can you get me the blanket from the living room?"

Exhaustion laces your words despite the numerous naps you had taken throughout the day.

"Aren't you warm enough? I dont want you to have a heatstroke or something."

"I won't, I swear. Please?"

How can Yoongi say no when your voice comes out so fragile and your grip is so gentle. Fuck, you truly did have him wrapped around your finger.

"Fine."

You smile and Yoongi feels his heart skip multiple beats.

Your hand drops from his top and Yoongi retrieves your treasured blanket in less than a minute.

He drapes it over your figure, placing a kiss on your nose as he does so. He fights the urge to immediately slip into the bed beside you, not wanting your sickness to worsen from whatever his clothes may have contracted over the day.

He lazily strips himself and changes into the first pair of sweatpants he sees. He also takes off the wet towel from your forehead, wiping down your face and neck with it before folding it and placing it onto the nightstand.

Finally, he climbs under the duvet beside you. Your body instinctively turns to face his.

Yoongi doesn't expect to feel your lips on his cheek.

"Thank you. I really don't deserve you," you whisper. You drape an arm across his chest and roll onto your stomach, letting out a small moan of pain as you do so.

"You do, baby."

You deserve a lot more than just him taking care of you. You deserve the world itself in your hands and Yoongi knows that if you were to ever ask, he would give it to you in a heartbeat. He would give you the world and so much more.

He leans over your body to switch off the lamp.

"I love you," you whisper, a small yet content smile drawn on your face.

"I love you too."

Healing Touches

Sometimes, your boyfriend's tender touches and caring actions help heal your fragile state faster than any medication.

────

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship au

word count: 2.2k

summary: yoongi comes home to find you sick / he makes you food / reader can't help but fall asleep literally everywhere / yoongi loves you too much 😪😪

warning: very brief mentions of passing out

notes: im a slut for sick fics and i couldn't find many yoongi ones so i decided to just write one 😋 if anyone has any ideas for fluffy or suggestive yoongi drabbles feel free to drop them in my asks 🙏🙏

────

"I'm home!"

Yoongi's voice echoes through the house and he furrows his eyebrows at the lack of response to his words.

Usually, he would meet you at the lobby of your shared apartment on weekdays, as you would often stay back to grade a few assignments or prepare for the next day. On the days he didn't meet you, he would hear your footsteps as you made your way to greet him, or some sort of noise to prove that you were busy doing something.

But today, there was nothing but silence. Yoongi shrugs it off. You probably just lost track of time.

He makes his way into the living room and places the keys onto the small key holder on the wall.

He begins to remove his jacket but his actions still when he finds you sitting on the couch, a large blanket completely wrapped around you. The TV in front of you was on, but the sound was barely audible and your head was turned away from whatever you had put on to rest against the leather sofa.

Yoongi folds his jacket over his arm as he makes his way over to you.

"Did you get back from work early today?" He asks, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You groan softly as you stir, slowly moving your head up to look at him through squinted eyes. You were going to whine about how he had disturbed your sleep, but decide against it. Complaining needed energy, energy that you currently lacked.

"Didn't go today. Called in sick."

A bead of sweat rolls down your temple and you begin to move out of the warm confinements of your blanket. Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you, reaching out his hand to place it against your forehead.

You didn't have a fever, but your words came out dry and broken and there was a clear flush to your cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me? Are you still feeling sick?"

You nod softly and move the blanket to the opposite end of the couch. You cringe at how your top sticks to your body from the sweat coating your skin.

"I just had a headache in the morning so I didn't think much of it. But after you left, I was like cold all of a sudden so I used the thermometer and it said I had a fever."

You leave out the part where you almost fainted in the bathroom as you changed back into your pyjamas after calling in sick, not wanting to worry your already worried boyfriend.

"You should've called me, I would've left work in a heartbeat," he says as he presses his lips against your forehead.

You ignore the way your heart flutters at his words, failing to bite back a smile.

"It wasn't even that bad, don't worry. Plus, I'm pretty sure the fever pretty soon after. I just fell asleep on the couch."

"Still. Did you take any medicine?"

"Yeah, I took some painkillers for the headache."

You notice how dry your voice is in your throat, wincing at the pain when you try to swallow.

"Did it help?"

"Not really, but I'm fine now so."

Yoongi places his jacket on the couch and makes his way to the medicine box he had placed in one of the kitchen cabinets, having to look through each one before finding it. He takes two tablets and brings them over to you along with a glass of water.

"I'm fine now, babe, seriously," you mumble, reluctantly taking the tablets and the glass from his hands.

"I don't wanna take any chances, love. Drink up."

He watches you as you tip the glass over your mouth and gulp down its contents. You hand it back over to him with a small sigh, and he places it down on the coffee table.

Your eyes scan over Yoongi's body. He's wearing a simple black hoodie, the one you steal from him the most because of how comfy the fabric is.

You reach out your arms invitingly, wanting nothing more than to melt in his arms after not seeing him the entire day.

"I don't wanna get you more sick though," he says, tilting his head as he runs his hands through his grown-out hair.

A small pout forms on your lips and you throw him a scowl.

"I'll get more sick and die right now if you don't cuddle me."

Yoongi laughs at your words. His gums are on display and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons.

"So dramatic," he mumbles.

The leather beside you sinks beneath his weight as he sits down and you instantly wrap yourself around him. His body radiates warmth and you throw one leg over his lap, snuggling your head closer into his chest.

────

You don't quite remember falling asleep, but when your eyes flutter open, the sunlight in the room is replaced by blue rays emitting from the TV.

Goosebumps erupt across your back and you slightly shiver. The space beside you is empty, Yoongi is no longer there to provide you with any heat.

You blame the moody weather for the chills you feel across your body. You were starting to regret throwing away the patterned blanket a few hours earlier, desperately craving the warmth it had enveloped you with.

A few minutes go by and the only thing on your mind is how you were going to die of hyperthermia any minute now. You had closed your eyes in hopes of falling asleep again, but your actions went in vain.

You let out a small groan as you turn your head to try to spot the blanket, trickles of pain erupting from your neck.

The fabric sat just out of your reach, and it seemed to mock your weak attempts at attempting to grab it.

You give up fairly quickly and resort to sitting completely still, trying to dull the ache that pulses through your limbs.

You hadn't been this sick in months and you felt as if this was the universe's way of reminding you how miserable it was.

"You OK?"

Yoongi's voice is deep and you look up to see him standing at the doorway to the living room carrying a plastic bag in one hand.

He throws his keys onto the counter and they hit the marble loudly.

His eyes squint against the harsh light of the TV as he sets down the bag and moves towards you.

"Yeah, I was just tryna get the blanket. Where were you?"

He brushes away a few strands of your hair before resting his hand against your forehead.

"Shit, you're burning up. I don't think a blanket is a good idea, love," he says.

"But it's freezinggg."

Your words come out as a small whine. Yoongi's eyes shift between you and the blanket, weighing out both options.

"How about you go to the bedroom and I can put a wet towel on your head, so you cool down while also being under the duvet?"

You practically shiver at the idea of a cold towel against your skin.

"Fine."

Yoongi reaches out his hand and you hold onto it as you stand up. It takes more energy than anticipated and you wince at the throb of pain in your legs.

"Where were you?" You repeat.

"Oh right. I was gonna make you rice porridge so I needed to get some stuff. Apparently it's great for when you're feeling sick."

You smile at your boyfriend and place a small kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks, baby."

"Mhm, no problem." Yoongi's grateful for the dim lighting of the room so that you don't have the satisfaction of seeing the blush that taints his cheeks.

"I'll bring it to the bedroom, you go lie down."

You nod before slowly making your way to the bedroom as Yoongi moves into the kitchen.

────

By the time Yoongi comes into the room with a bowl in his hand, you're fast asleep again.

You lie completely curled up and covered by the blankets. Your cheeks are flushed from the incredible warmth you are putting your body through.

Yoongi sits down on the mattress carefully, not wanting to disrupt your peace.

"Wake up, love. Your food's ready."

"Not hungry," you mumble, bringing your knees closer to your body.

"You're not gonna get any better if you stay hungry."

You huff and reluctantly stretch out your limbs. With great effort, you lazily sit up against the headboard of the bed.

Yoongi takes a spoonful of the rice porridge and brings it to your lips. You take a mouthful and swallow it down eagerly.

"Not hungry my ass," Yoongi says with an accusing stare and you laugh.

You can't shake off the warm feeling that fills your heart at the domestics of the entire scene at hand as you take another large bite.

You end up eating the entire bowl but decide against asking for seconds. The need to sleep was stronger than anything else right now.

Yoongi leaves the room to put the bowl back and bring you a wet towel. He returns to find you sleeping again.

Your body must be exhausted from fighting whatever sickness had overtaken you for you to be sleeping this much.

He gently places the towel over your forehead, pressing it down so that it doesn't slip off onto the mattress.

Your brows furrow at his actions but you don't wake up. His hand reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, mumbling under his breath.

"Pretty."

Yoongi never thought he would find the one. He believed in love, but the idea of finding someone he could think of as home always seemed too unrealistic, a mere fantasy he would sometimes use for inspiration in his lyrics.

He never thought that the simple thought of someone could brighten his day. Until he met you.

You were chaotic and quiet and everything in between. Someone people could talk to comfortably and freely, someone open-minded and thoughtful.

Everyone seemed to love you, which is why it confused Yoongi whenever you would get flustered at the compliments that fell from his lips.

He thought you would have been used to it. He didn't know how someone could talk to you without showering you with compliments.

When he had told you this one night during the first few months of your friendship—before you started dating—you had laughed, confessing how you rarely ever got compliments. Yoongi still remembers how he had stood there dumbfounded.

Ever since that night, he had made a vow to shower you with compliments.

However, the words soon turned into a habit. They weren't any less truthful, but he found himself whispering them to you even while you were out of earshot or while you slept, like now.

Yoongi stays by your side for a minute longer, simply admiring the way the lamp on your nightstand illuminates your features with its faint glow.

Eventually, he stands up, only to feel your hand grab his before he can take a step.

Your grip is loose and your eyes are still closed, but you lightly tug at the sleeve of his hoodie and he finds himself returning to your side.

"Can you get me the blanket from the living room?"

Exhaustion laces your words despite the numerous naps you had taken throughout the day.

"Aren't you warm enough? I dont want you to have a heatstroke or something."

"I won't, I swear. Please?"

How can Yoongi say no when your voice comes out so fragile and your grip is so gentle. Fuck, you truly did have him wrapped around your finger.

"Fine."

You smile and Yoongi feels his heart skip multiple beats.

Your hand drops from his top and Yoongi retrieves your treasured blanket in less than a minute.

He drapes it over your figure, placing a kiss on your nose as he does so. He fights the urge to immediately slip into the bed beside you, not wanting your sickness to worsen from whatever his clothes may have contracted over the day.

He lazily strips himself and changes into the first pair of sweatpants he sees. He also takes off the wet towel from your forehead, wiping down your face and neck with it before folding it and placing it onto the nightstand.

Finally, he climbs under the duvet beside you. Your body instinctively turns to face his.

Yoongi doesn't expect to feel your lips on his cheek.

"Thank you. I really don't deserve you," you whisper. You drape an arm across his chest and roll onto your stomach, letting out a small moan of pain as you do so.

"You do, baby."

You deserve a lot more than just him taking care of you. You deserve the world itself in your hands and Yoongi knows that if you were to ever ask, he would give it to you in a heartbeat. He would give you the world and so much more.

He leans over your body to switch off the lamp.

"I love you," you whisper, a small yet content smile drawn on your face.

"I love you too."

accidental meetings | myg

summary. navigating through awkward apologies and shared meals with your cute neighbour may promise more than just an unlikely friendship.

────

pairing: yoongi x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: (this note has been edited) this was supposed to be oneshot and it ended up being apart of a mini-series…idk how we got here, but here we are :> hope you guys enjoy reading!!

────

< prev • next > | series masterlist | main masterlist

────

Your knuckles rapped against the door rhythmically for the second time.

Your eyes were unfocused and blurry and you could barely stand properly, having to hold onto the wall to prevent yourself from stumbling.

Everyone knew that going out to drink on an empty stomach was a bad idea. The lack of food had let the alcohol take its effect on you much sooner than you had anticipated, and your stomach lowly grumbled at the lack of food.

But when Maya—your roommate—had eagerly dragged you out of your dorm as soon as you returned from dropping all of your study materials back at the library, you didn't have the heart to say no.

A part of you also wanted to celebrate the end of your exams differently. Usually, the end of exam season meant catching up on all the shows you sacrificed watching to study. But going out for drinking also seemed fun.

You regretted your decision the moment Maya abruptly left the club with a random tatted-up guy, leaving you alone amidst the sea of drunk strangers and sweaty bodies. You too, left soon after, not wanting to deal with any creeps that could sour your happy mood.

How you managed to get home in one piece, you weren't sure. You were sure, however, that you had paid the taxi driver double the amount that was due. The overwhelming need to fall into the comforts of your bed seemed to have dulled your thinking, which is why your only annoyance grew with every second that you spent outside your dorm, waiting for Ari—your other roommate—to let you inside.

"Yah, Ari! Let me in you freak!"

You brought your hand up to knock again when the door swung open.

"Fuck's sake, Ari, thought you—hic—thought you were gonna lock me out forev-."

Your slurred words are cut short when your gaze is lifted from the ground to the man who stood in front of you.

His hand rubbed at his eye while his other roughly ran through his hair in an attempt to tame the dark, tousled locks. He stared at you with furrowed brows.

You tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes.

"Did you shape-shift or something? What's up with yo—hic—your hair?"

You stepped closer to the stranger and reached out your hand when it dawned on you, hands freezing a few centimetres in front of his hair.

"Shit. You're not Ari, are you?"

The stranger shook his head.

"No, sorry. I think you got the wrong apartment."

His voice was deep and hoarse, still laced with sleep. You felt a pang of guilt in your stomach for waking him up in the middle of the night.

"But the door says seventeen though?"

You blinked blankly at him and another small hiccup escaped you as he looked up at the door. You followed his gaze to the bronze numbering which read seven and not seventeen.

"Shit, 'm so sorry for waking you up, I swear that it said seventeen, I'm really sorry."

Your hands came together in front of you as more apologies tumbled last your lips. Honestly, you barely knew what you were saying, but you felt your embarrassment taint your cheeks with a familiar warmth.

"It's fine, don't worry."

The man's words were awkward and you mumbled a final apology before you moved away. Your apartment was only ten doors down, but the carpeted hallway seemed to stretch out for an eternity. You couldn't deny the eerie feeling that clung to the cold lights and caused small goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

Fuck, you had seriously lost it.

You took a few steps with your hands dragging across the pale walls.

"Actually, do you want me to bring you down to your door?"

You look back to see the boy who had already closed his door behind him as he made his way to you. His skin was pale and it almost seemed to glow now that he had emerged from the shadows of his apartment.

Or maybe he was your guardian angel, and a ring of light was going to appear above his head. You were seriously considering the possibility. Why else would a random stranger be so kind to you?

"You really don't—hic—have, I've already disturbed you enough."

"I don't want to worry about you passing out in the hallway. I'm not sleepy anymore anyway, so it's fine."

You gave him an apologetic, timid smile.

"Thank you, uh-."

"Yoongi."

"Yoongi," you repeated. The words bounced off your tongue with ease.

You moved closer to him and ended up clinging to his arm instead of the walls. He lightly froze at your sudden touch but you don't notice.

Your steps are weak but you managed to get to your apartment with the help of his body that guided you.

Yoongi knocked on the door for you and Ari opened it within a few seconds.

"Ariiii!"

You tumbled into her hands and wrapped your arms around her in an uncomfortable embrace.

"Oh my God, ___?" Ari's eyes moved from you to the brunette who stood outside.

"Thank you so much! I'm very sorry if they said something," Ari said, offering the man an apologetic smile.

"No worries, it's fine." His hands rubbed against the back of his neck softly. "Have a good night."

"You too."

She closed the door sharply and Yoongi heard her voice scolding you as you simply giggled. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back to his apartment, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

He knew that he had seen you before—you were too memorable for him to forget. But to his frustration, he couldn’t exactly place when and where.

A small sigh left his lips as he knocked on his door. Leaving his keys inside wasn't ideal and he hoped that Jungkook would wake up to his knocks and let him in. However, he couldn't bring himself to regret walking you down the hallway or blame you for possibly being stuck outside for the rest of the night.

Instead, he found himself wishing to meet you again.

────

The elevator doors opened smoothly and you stepped outside, heaving a heavy bag of groceries in your arms. You supported the bottom of the thin plastic, begging the universe to not curse you and cause the plastic to rip a few doors away from your apartment. 

It had happened before and you still remembered the awkwardness in the air as you scrambled to grab a pack of pads as a group of boys walked past.

You scrunched up your nose and squeezed your eyes as the memory brought waves of embarrassment to course through you. You shook off the feeling as you began to walk along the empty hallway.

Except, it wasn’t exactly empty. Your eyes fell on a boy who sat crouched on the floor with his back against the wall. His dark hair fell in loose waves over his forehead and you noticed a silver earring that lightly glistened on one of his ears. You were sure that if it weren’t for the plaid, red shirt he wore, you would have missed his presence completely.

You unknowingly tilted your head to the side. His features were oddly familiar, from the curve of his nose to the shape of his narrow eyes and his plump bottom lip. 

He was pretty, you wouldn’t deny that. Even with the defeated look on his face.

As you got closer to his figure, realisation dawned on you. This was the guy who helped you to your apartment less than a few days ago.

You felt your cheeks turn warm.

You would’ve speed-walked to your apartment to avoid another possibly embarrassing encounter if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes had already met yours.

His eyebrows rose slightly in recognition and he immediately pushed himself to his feet and cleared his throat awkwardly.

You lick your lips before giving him a small smile. It was already too late to try and pretend you hadn’t seen him, so you went with the only option you had left; to walk over to him.

“Hi,” you said, keeping a smile on your face.

“Uh- hi.”

You had never wished for the ground to swallow you up more than you did at that moment. You were usually good with making awkward atmospheres comfortable, and you had no idea why your brain seemed to be malfunctioning.

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I ever got a chance to apologise to you properly for waking you up that night. I genuinely am sorry, I usually know my limits with alcohol and I don’t know what happened that day,” you said with a dry chuckle. 

Yoongi’s eyes crinkle into a soft smile and you swore that you felt your heart skip a beat. 

“And thank you so so much for bringing me to my apartment, I swear I would’ve ended up sleeping in the middle of the hallway if it weren’t for you!”

“It was nothing, don’t worry.” Yoongi waved his arm in the air as if he were swatting away your words. “I’m glad that I was able to prevent you from sleeping in the hallway.”

You both laughed and you noticed the way his smile stretched out to reveal his gums.

“Oh, I don’t think I got a chance to introduce myself. I’m ___.”

You shifted your groceries to one arm as you outstretched your other. Yoongi took it, his grip soft as he shook your hand. The touch lingered for a few seconds longer than it should have and even as you pulled back, you felt the ghost of his skin on yours.

“So, uh- what are you doing sitting outside your apartment?”

“Ah, that-.” He brought his hand to rest against the back of his neck sheepishly. “-I kinda got locked out. I don’t bother taking the keys since my roommates are usually home, but they’re out today and none of them are picking up their phone.”

As he spoke, his eyes glanced down at his phone. You noticed the array of cracks that spread across the black screen, mimicking the intricate pattern of a cobweb.

“Oh, I think know how you can get in.”

You had learned the hack from an action book you had read a few years ago. As you placed down your bag of groceries against the wall and fished out your wallet, you hoped that the hack wasn’t something that only worked in movies and books.

You looked through your cards and picked out the first unimportant-looking one you found, which happened to be a voucher for the new restaurant that had opened a few blocks down from your apartment complex.

You stepped forward and slid the card into the crack of the door where the handle was as Yoongi watched in curiosity.

You pressed down the card. It took more strength than you anticipated, as the lock didn’t move an inch. You tried again and you felt Yoongi take a step closer to you.

You begged the universe to be on your side. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of the only cute guy who had made an effort to talk to you.

“It’s fine, I can just wai-.”

The card slid down and a small click was heard as it pushed the lock back into the door.

“I can’t believe that worked,” you said, disbelief laced in your voice. However, the joy from your success was short-lived as the door opened up and your plastic card fell to the floor in small pieces.

“Oh my god, thank you so much, seriously.”

The excitement in Yoongi’s voice died down as soon as you turned back to look up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“No problem.”

“I’m sorry about the card,” he said and it was your turn to swat away his apologies.

“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I owed you anyway. I guess we’re even now.”

Yoongi nodded and stepped inside. He picked up the pieces of plastic from the ground and handed it to you, noticing the broken lettering which he worked out to spell the name of the new restaurant that had opened up nearby.

You picked up your bag of groceries from the floor.

“Again, thank you. See you around,” he said with a small wave of his hand.

“Bye!” You mimicked the wave.

Yoongi couldn’t ignore the pang of guilt that twisted in his stomach as he watched you walk away. The restaurant wasn’t exactly fancy, but it was expensive enough for a college student. He softly shut the door and brought his bottom lip between his teeth in thought.

Maybe he could make it up to you.

────

Yoongi was the last person you expected to be greeted by outside your door on a Tuesday evening. But there he stood, sporting a plain, white t-shirt under a denim jacket.

“Oh, hi! Was not expecting you,” you said. You didn’t realise how unwelcoming the words sounded until they tumbled from your lips, but Yoongi didn’t seem to catch on.

“Yeah, uh- Look, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that you broke your voucher tryna help me so I got you this as an apology.”

He held out a brown, paper bag in front of him and you realise that the lettering printed on it read the name of the restaurant. You caught a glimpse of the plastic packaging of takeaway which confirmed your suspicions.

“Yoongi, I couldn’t possibly take this. I helped you out because you helped me out, and the voucher wasn’t even that big of a deal, genuinely!”

You reached out your hand to push the bag towards him again, but his grip persisted.

“Please?”

The word fell from his lips softly, almost a whisper, and you felt your heart skip a few beats. His eyes fell on yours for a split second before he broke his gaze. You didn’t have it in you to reject his kind gesture, but at the same time, you felt guilty if you did accept it.

“What about we share it? That makes it fair, right?”

“I- I don’t know-.”

“Please?” You’re voice mimicked his tone from when he had spoked the exact same word. “I’ll feel too guilty if I just take it. My roommates are both out for the night, so we can eat it together if you want.”

Yoongi hesitated, but the idea of spending time with you felt nice.

“Okay.”

Your lips curled into a bright smile as you invited him inside. Yoongi waited for you to close and lock the door, and followed you as you led him to your kitchen. He placed the paper bag onto the smooth, marble countertop as you pulled out two plates from the white cabinets that stretched up to the ceiling.

You began to take out all the containers and spread them out over the counter.

“There’s so much bro, I would not have been able to finish this,” you said with a smile that Yoongi returned.

“I mean, you could’ve shared it with your roommates.”

“Mhm, I guess. I rather share it with you though.”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned pink as he let out a timid chuckle. Honestly, you didn’t know what gave you the confidence, but you enjoyed the reactions you garnered from the brunet boy.

He helped you as both of you filled your plates with food. The aroma that easily spread across the kitchen made your mouths water, and you dug in as soon as you brought over chopsticks and spoons for the two of you.

“Damnn, this is good,” you said with a moan of satisfaction. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you spoke and Yoongi hummed in agreement. His own eyes fluttered shut as he savoured the taste.

“So, what do you do?” You asked before putting another spoonful of food into your mouth.

“I’m in a band. That’s why I moved here, actually. The other members thought we’d be more productive if we all lived together but I’m starting to doubt that."

You chuckle. “A band? Damn, that’s so cool."

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders. “I mean it is and I love all the members and all but...it can get tiring sometimes, y’know.”

Even though you couldn’t exactly relate to him, you nodded understandingly with a hum.

“You should play me one of your songs!”

“Uh- no.”

You shot him a scowl at his immediate rejection of the idea.

“Whyy? I won’t judge, I swear.”

Yoongi closed his eyes with a playfully pained expression on his face as you practically begged him for a chance to listen to one of his songs.

“I’ll show it to you eventually. Maybe.”

“Yah! No maybes, you’re definitely showing it to me next time!”

Next time. Yoongi couldn’t wait for the next time he could see you again.

A smooth conversation ensued after you both had taken a few more bites of the food. You felt oddly comfortable in front of him. You didn’t feel the need to cover your mouth when you laughed or hold back on your words, didn’t feel the need to hide away any part of yourself.

You felt like you could be yourself, and the feeling was strange. It caused a tug of warmth in your heart.

Soon enough, both of you had scoffed most of the food. You began to store the rest of the takeaway in sealed bowls and Yoongi moved to the dishes in the sink.

“Ah, you can just leave them, I’ll do them later,” you said, but Yoongi washed them anyway. A part of you was grateful that he did, as washing the dishes was one of your least favourite chores.

You took the plates he had rinsed and placed them into the dishwasher. Silence filled the air, only broken by the quiet ticking of the clock that hung on your wall, but the atmosphere was far from tense or awkward. Neither of you felt the need to try to start a random conversation and simply focused on the tasks at hand.

“Thanks so much, for the food and the cleaning up. I really do appreciate it!” You said as you wiped your hands dry on a small cloth.

“It’s no problem, really.”

You opened the door for him as he slipped into his shoes.

“We need to actually go to the restaurant someday, get the full experience y’know?”

Yoongi smiled with a nod.

“We can arrange a day over the phone if you want?”

“I’d love that!”

Yoongi fished out his phone from the back pocket of his darkly coloured jeans in an instant and typed in your number as you called it out to him.

“See you soon, ___.”

“Byee.”

You gave a quick wave of your hand which he returned before he began walking back down to his apartment. You couldn’t hide the content smile on your face as closed the door, eagerly grabbing your phone from the counter.

Yoongi sent you a text less than a minute later, and you added his number to your contacts.

You too couldn’t wait for the next time.

Accidental Meetings

Navigating through awkward apologies and shared meals with your cute neighbour may promise more than just an unlikely friendship.

────

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: strangers to friends to lovers (??), ig this could count as fluff

word count: 3.2k

summary: you knock on the wrong door after being drunk / yoongi helps you to your apartment / you help yoongi from being stuck outside a few days later / yoongi apologises for the trouble by getting you food

warnings: alcohol consumption

notes: i originally planned to write how yoongi and the reader met when my writing improved but i ran out of ideas on what to write and didn't want to keep you guys waiting for too long. this is another piece apart of my drabble collection. i hope you enjoy :)

────

Your knuckles rapped against the door rhythmically for the second time.

Your eyes were unfocused and blurry and you could barely stand properly, having to hold onto the wall to prevent yourself from stumbling.

Everyone knew that going out to drink on an empty stomach was a bad idea. The lack of food had let the alcohol take its effect on you much sooner than you had anticipated, and your stomach lowly grumbled at the lack of food.

But when Maya—your roommate—had eagerly dragged you out of your dorm as soon as you returned from dropping all of your study materials back at the library, you didn't have the heart to say no.

A part of you also wanted to celebrate the end of your exams differently. Usually, the end of exam season meant catching up on all the shows you sacrificed watching to study. But going out for drinking also seemed fun.

You had regretted your decision the moment Maya had abruptly left the club with a random tatted-up guy, leaving you alone amidst the sea of drunk strangers and sweaty bodies. You had left soon after, not wanting to deal with any creeps that could sour your happy mood.

How you managed to get home in one piece, you weren't sure. You were sure, however, that you had paid the taxi driver double the amount that was due. The overwhelming need to fall into the comforts of your bed seemed to have dulled your thinking, which is why your only annoyance grew with every second that you spent outside your dorm, waiting for Ari—your other roommate—to let you inside.

"Yah, Ari! Let me in you freak!"

You brought your hand up to knock again when the door swung open.

"Fuck's sake, Ari, thought you—hic—thought you were gonna lock me out forev-."

Your slurred words are cut short when your gaze is lifted from the ground to the man who stood in front of you.

His hand rubbed at his eye while his other roughly ran through his hair in an attempt to tame the dark, tousled locks. He stared at you with furrowed brows.

You tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes.

"Did you shape-shift or something? What's up with yo—hic—your hair?"

You stepped closer to the stranger and reached out your hand when it dawned on you, hands freezing a few centimetres in front of his hair.

"Shit. You're not Ari, are you?"

The stranger shook his head.

"No, sorry. I think you got the wrong apartment."

His voice was deep and hoarse, still laced with sleep. You felt a pang of guilt in your stomach for waking him up in the middle of the night.

"But the door says seventeen though?"

You blinked blankly at him and another small hiccup escaped you as he looked up at the door. You followed his gaze to the bronze numbering which read seven and not seventeen.

"Shit, 'm so sorry for waking you up, I swear that it said seventeen, I'm really sorry."

Your hands came together in front of you as more apologies tumbled last your lips. Honestly, you barely knew what you were saying, but you felt your embarrassment taint your cheeks with a familiar warmth.

"It's fine, don't worry."

The man's words are awkward and you mumbled a final apology before you moved away. Your apartment was only ten doors down, but the carpeted hallway seemed to stretch out for an eternity. You couldn't deny the eerie feeling that clung to the cold lights and caused small goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

Fuck, you had seriously lost it.

You took a few steps with your hands dragging across the pale walls.

"Actually, do you want me to bring you down to your door?"

You look back to see the boy who had already closed his door behind him as he made his way to you. His skin was pale and it almost seemed to glow now that he had emerged from the shadows of his apartment.

Or maybe he was your guardian angel, and a ring of light was going to appear above his head. You were seriously considering the possibility. Why else would a random stranger be so kind to you?

"You really don't—hic—have, I've already disturbed you enough."

"I don't want to worry about you passing out in the hallway. I'm not sleepy anymore anyway, so it's fine."

You gave him an apologetic, timid smile.

"Thank you, uh-."

"Yoongi."

"Yoongi," you repeat. The words bounced off your tongue with ease.

You moved closer to him and ended up clinging to his arm instead of the walls. He lightly froze at your sudden touch but you don't notice.

Your steps are weak but you managed to get to your apartment with the help of his body that guided you.

Yoongi knocked on the door for you and Ari opened it within a few seconds.

"Ariiii!"

You tumbled into her hands and wrapped your arms around her in an uncomfortable embrace.

"Oh my God, ___?" Ari's eyes moved from you to the brunette who stood outside.

"Thank you so much! I'm very sorry if they said something," Ari said, offering the man an apologetic smile.

"No worries, it's fine." His hands rubbed against the back of his neck softly. "Have a good night."

"You too."

She closed the door sharply and Yoongi heard her voice scolding you as you simply giggled. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back to his apartment, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

He knew that he had seen you before—you were too memorable for him to forget. But to his frustration, he couldn’t exactly place when and where.

A small sigh left his lips as he knocked on his door. Leaving his keys inside wasn't ideal and he hoped that Jungkook would wake up to his knocks and let him in. However, he couldn't bring himself to regret walking you down the hallway or blame you for possibly being stuck outside for the rest of the night.

Instead, he found himself wishing to meet you again.

────

The elevator doors opened smoothly and you stepped outside, heaving a heavy bag of groceries in your arms. You supported the bottom of the thin plastic, begging the universe to not curse you and cause the plastic to rip a few doors away from your apartment. 

It had happened before and you still remembered the awkwardness in the air as you scrambled to grab a pack of pads as a group of boys had walked past.

You scrunched up your nose and squeezed your eyes as the memory brought waves of embarrassment to course through you. You shook off the feeling as you began to walk along the empty hallway.

Except, it wasn’t exactly empty. Your eyes fell on a boy who sat crouched on the floor with his back against the wall. His dark hair fell in loose waves over his forehead and you noticed a silver earring that lightly glistened on one of his ears. You were sure that if it weren’t for the plaid, red shirt he wore, you would have missed his presence completely.

You unknowingly tilted your head to the side. His features were oddly familiar, from the curve of his nose to the shape of his narrow eyes and his plump bottom lip. 

He was pretty, you wouldn’t deny that. Even with the defeated look on his face.

As you got closer to his figure, realisation dawned on you. This was the guy who helped you to your apartment less than a few days ago.

You felt your cheeks turn warm.

You would’ve speed-walked to your apartment to avoid another possibly embarrassing encounter if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes had already met yours.

His eyebrows rose slightly in recognition and he immediately pushed himself to his feet and cleared his throat awkwardly.

You lick your lips before giving him a small smile. It was already too late to try and pretend you hadn’t seen him, so you went with the only option you had left; to walk over to him.

“Hi,” you said, keeping a smile on your face.

“Uh- hi.”

You had never wished for the ground to swallow you up more than you did at that moment. You were usually good with making awkward atmospheres comfortable, and you had no idea why your brain seemed to be malfunctioning.

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I ever got a chance to apologise to you properly for waking you up that night. I genuinely am sorry, I usually know my limits with alcohol and I don’t know what happened that day,” you said with a dry chuckle. 

Yoongi’s eyes crinkle into a soft smile and you swore that you felt your heart skip a beat. 

“And thank you so so much for bringing me to my apartment, I swear I would’ve ended up sleeping in the middle of the hallway if it weren’t for you!”

“It was nothing, don’t worry.” Yoongi waved his arm in the air as if he were swatting away your words. “I’m glad that I was able to prevent you from sleeping in the hallway.”

You both laughed and you noticed the way his smile stretched out to reveal his gums.

“Oh, I don’t think I got a chance to introduce myself. I’m ___.”

You shifted your groceries to one arm as you outstretched your other. Yoongi took it, his grip soft as he shook your hand. The touch lingered for a few seconds longer than it should have and even as you pulled back, you felt the ghost of his skin on yours.

“So, uh- what are you doing sitting outside your apartment?”

“Ah, that-.” He brought his hand to rest against the back of his neck sheepishly. “-I kinda got locked out. I don’t bother taking the keys since my roommates are usually home, but they’re out today and none of them are picking up their phone.”

As he spoke, his eyes glanced down at his phone. You noticed the array of cracks that spread across the black screen, mimicking the intricate pattern of a cobweb.

“Oh, I think know how you can get in.”

You had learned the hack from an action book you had read a few years ago. As you placed down your bag of groceries against the wall and fished out your wallet, you hoped that the hack wasn’t something that only worked in movies and books.

You looked through your cards and picked out the first unimportant-looking one you found, which happened to be a voucher for the new restaurant that had opened a few blocks down from your apartment complex.

You stepped forward and slid the card into the crack of the door where the handle was as Yoongi watched in curiosity.

You pressed down the card. It took more strength than you anticipated, as the lock didn’t move an inch. You tried again and you felt Yoongi take a step closer to you.

You begged the universe to be on your side. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of the only cute guy who had made an effort to talk to you.

“It’s fine, I can just wai-.”

The card slid down and a small click was heard as it pushed the lock back into the door.

“I can’t believe that worked,” you said, disbelief laced in your voice. However, the joy from your success was short-lived as the door opened up and your plastic card fell to the floor in small pieces.

“Oh my god, thank you so much, seriously!”

The excitement in Yoongi’s voice died down as soon as you turned back to look up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“No problem.”

“I’m sorry about the card,” he said and it was your turn to swat away his apologies.

“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I owed you anyway. I guess we’re even now.”

Yoongi nodded and stepped inside. He picked up the pieces of plastic from the ground and handed it to you, noticing the broken lettering which he worked out to spell the name of the new restaurant that had opened up nearby.

You picked up your bag of groceries from the floor.

“Again, thank you. See you around,” he said with a small wave of his hand.

“Bye!” You mimicked the wave.

Yoongi couldn’t ignore the pang of guilt that twisted in his stomach as he watched you walk away. The restaurant wasn’t exactly fancy, but it was expensive enough for a college student. He softly shut the door and brought his bottom lip between his teeth in thought.

Maybe he could make it up to you.

────

Yoongi was the last person you expected to be greeted by outside your door on a Tuesday evening. But there he stood, sporting a plain, white t-shirt under a denim jacket.

“Oh, hi! Was not expecting you,” you said. You didn’t realise how unwelcoming the words sounded until they tumbled from your lips, but Yoongi didn’t seem to catch on.

“Yeah, uh- Look, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that you broke your voucher tryna help me so I got you this as an apology.”

He held out a brown, paper bag in front of him and you realise that the lettering printed on it read the name of the restaurant. You caught a glimpse of the plastic packaging of takeaway which confirmed your suspicions.

“Yoongi, I couldn’t possibly take this. I helped you out because you helped me out, and the voucher wasn’t even that big of a deal, genuinely!”

You reached out your hand to push the bag towards him again, but his grip persisted.

“Please?”

The word fell from his lips softly, almost a whisper, and you felt your heart skip a few beats. His eyes fell on yours for a split second before he broke his gaze. You didn’t have it in you to reject his kind gesture, but at the same time, you felt guilty if you did accept it.

“What about we share it? That makes it fair, right?”

“I- I don’t know-.”

“Please?” You’re voice mimicked his tone from when he had spoked the exact same word. “I’ll feel too guilty if I just take it. My roommates are both out for the night, so we can eat it together if you want.”

Yoongi hesitated, but the idea of spending time with you felt nice.

“Okay.”

Your lips curled into a bright smile as you invited him inside. Yoongi waited for you to close and lock the door, and followed you as you led him to your kitchen. He placed the paper bag onto the smooth, marble countertop as you pulled out two plates from the white cabinets that stretched up to the ceiling.

You began to take out all the containers and spread them out over the counter.

“There’s so much bro, I would not have been able to finish this,” you said with a smile that Yoongi returned.

“I mean, you could’ve shared it with your roommates.”

“Mhm, I guess. I rather share it with you though.”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned pink as he let out a timid chuckle. Honestly, you didn’t know what gave you the confidence, but you enjoyed the reactions you garnered from the blond boy.

He helped you as both of you filled your plates with food. The aroma that easily spread across the kitchen made your mouths water, and you dug in as soon as you brought over chopsticks and spoons for the two of you.

“Damnn, this is good,” you said with a moan of satisfaction. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you spoke and Yoongi hummed in agreement. His own eyes fluttered shut as he savoured the taste.

“So, what do you do?” You asked before putting another spoonful of food into your mouth.

“I’m in a band. That’s why I moved here, actually. The other members thought we’d be more productive if we all lived together but I’m starting to doubt that."

“A band? Damn, that’s so cool."

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders. “I mean it is and I love all the members and all but...it can get tiring sometimes, y’know.”

Even though you couldn’t exactly relate to him, you nodded understandingly with a hum.

“You should play me one of your songs!”

“Uh- no.”

You shot him a scowl at his immediate rejection of the idea.

“Whyy? I won’t judge, I swear.”

Yoongi closed his eyes with a playfully pained expression on his face as you practically begged him for a chance to listen to one of his songs.

“I’ll show it to you eventually. Maybe.”

“Yah! No maybes, you’re definitely showing it to me next time!”

Next time. Yoongi couldn’t wait for the next time he could see you again.

A smooth conversation ensued after you both had taken a few more bites of the food. You felt oddly comfortable in front of him. You didn’t feel the need to cover your mouth when you laughed or hold back on your words, didn’t feel the need to hide away any part of yourself.

You felt like you could be yourself, and the feeling was strange. It caused a tug of warmth in your heart.

Soon enough, both of you had scoffed most of the food. You began to store the rest of the takeaway in sealed bowls and Yoongi moved to the dishes in the sink.

“Ah, you can just leave them, I’ll do them later,” you said, but Yoongi washed them anyway. A part of you was grateful that he did, as washing the dishes was one of your least favourite chores.

You took the plates he had rinsed and placed them into the dishwasher. Silence filled the air, only broken by the quiet ticking of the clock that hung on your wall, but the atmosphere was far from tense or awkward. Neither of you felt the need to try to start a random conversation and simply focused on the tasks at hand.

“Thanks so much, for the food and the cleaning up. I really do appreciate it!” You said as you wiped your hands dry on a small cloth.

“It’s no problem, really.”

You opened the door for him as he slipped into his shoes.

“We need to actually go to the restaurant someday, get the full experience y’know?”

Yoongi smiled with a nod.

“We can arrange a day over the phone if you want?”

“I’d love that!”

Yoongi fished out his phone from the back pocket of his darkly coloured jeans in an instant and typed in your number as you called it out to him.

“See you soon, ___.”

“Byee.”

You gave a quick wave of your hand which he returned before he began walking back down to his apartment. You couldn’t hide the content smile on your face as closed the door, eagerly grabbing your phone from the counter.

Yoongi sent you a text less than a minute later, and you added his number to your contacts.

You too couldn’t wait for the next time.

pottery date | myg

summary. you never expected to find pottery so difficult, so it's a good thing that your boyfriend is right there, ready to help guide you with his gentle hands.

────

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, fluff

word count: 1.1k

content: yoongi and oc goes on a pottery date / yoongi helps oc with pottery / yoongi realises how much he loves oc 🤧

warnings: they’re both very much in love, thats all 😭

a/n: this was inspired by a random tiktok. i have no idea how pottery works so i apologise if any of this is inaccurate. this ended up being shorter than my usual drabbles lol. feedback, likes, reblogs, comments and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i hope you enjoyy <33

main masterlist

────

Pottery is a lot harder than people make it out to be.

You were convinced you’d be a natural at this. After all, how hard could it be to mould some clay into a simple bowl or vase? But now, as you sit at the pottery wheel with a lopsided, uncooperative lump of clay before you, the task seems almost Herculean.

The pottery studio was a hidden gem, tucked away on a quiet street. It was a warm, relaxing place filled with the earthy smell of clay and the constant hum of pottery wheels. This place was Yoongi's idea, after revealing that he had been attending classes for the past month and had completely forgotten to tell you. You had been annoyed with him at first, but your mood instantly changed when he invited you to attend a couple’s class with him.

Now you understand why he had such a smug smile on his face when he suggested it.

You glance over at Yoongi, who sits beside your wheel. His eyes are focused, his long fingers carefully shaping the clay into a perfect cylinder. He wears a simple beige top and dark jeans under an apron tied loosely around his waist. His grown-out hair falls across his eyes in small waves, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“How are you so good at this?” you ask. He looks up, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m just lucky,” he says with a small shrug. "I've also attended more classes than you, so."

"Yeah, which is totally unfair."

Yoongi chuckles. “Want some help?”

You sigh, glancing down at your creation. “Please. This thing looks like it belongs in a horror movie.”

He chuckles, wiping his hands on a damp towel before approaching your wheel. “Alright, let’s see what we can do.”

He pulls his stool closer to you and wraps his arms around yours. Your fingers intertwine on the clay, and his breath fans across the side of your face. His touch is warm and reassuring, his presence somehow making the task seem less daunting. He shifts your fingers slightly, guiding your movements with gentle precision.

“Okay, press down a little more here,” he instructs, his voice low and soothing. “And use your other hand to steady it. See? It’s all about balance.”

You follow his guidance, feeling the clay start to yield under your touch, smoothing into a proper shape. The wheel hums softly beneath your feet as you find a rhythm, the clay cool and malleable against your palms.

“There you go,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. “You’ve got it.”

You relax into his embrace and Yoongi rests his chin on your shoulder. The pleasant, citrusy scent of his perfume overtakes your senses, and for a moment, everything else seems to fade away.

It’s just the two of you, your head resting against his shoulder as you let him control most of your moves. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back and his calloused hands that gently move over yours as you mould the clay together.

“You make it look so easy,” you say, glancing sideways at him. His focus is intent, but there’s a gentle smile on his lips. You ignore the urge to place a peck on the mole that lies just beside his nose.

“It’s all about having the right teacher,” he replies, and you playfully roll your eyes.

Yoongi leans back slightly, letting you take control. You can feel his watchful eyes on you, his presence a comforting weight at your side. He remains close, offering guidance with small nudges or murmured suggestions when you falter.

Occasionally, he whispers words of praise and encouragement in that stupidly attractive voice of his and smirks to himself when he notices the flush on your skin.

As the minutes pass, you find yourself becoming more comfortable, the awkwardness melting away. The clay responds to your touch, smoothing into an even form that vaguely resembles a bowl. It’s far from perfect, of course, but it’s yours.

“Look at that,” Yoongi says, admiration in his voice. “You’re a natural.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Hardly. But it’s better than what I started with, thanks to you.”

“We make a good team,” he says with a grin, that gummy smile lighting up his face.

────

Before leaving, you drag Yoongi along to the pale, wooden shelves that line the walls, displaying an array of colourful mugs and vases with unique shapes and intricate designs. You inspect them all in awe, marvelling at the ones you find pretty and keeping them in mind as inspiration for your next piece.

A small mug catches your eye. It’s coloured in a light shade of cream, with baby pink bows painted across the exterior.

“Would it be taking inspo if I just copy this design?”

Yoongi chuckles softly, stepping closer to you to take a closer look at the mug himself. “Mhm, probably.”

You let out a disappointed sigh. “It’s so pretty though.”

He watches you stare at the mug like it holds the answers to the universe, unable to help the smile that draws across his face. The butterflies in his stomach flutter around at the sight of you looking so fondly at something so mundane.

The urge to kiss you is suddenly overwhelming. He’s so close to you that he can see the few moles dotted across your face and neck, and the faint pigment of your favourite lip gloss shining on your parted lips. In fact, he’s so close that it would take little to no effort to press his mouth to yours.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he squeezes your hand for a few seconds—a secret message that you originally came up with after sensing his hesitance to PDA.

I love you.

The action pulls your gaze from the mug to Yoongi’s face, eyes slightly wide with surprise but clouded with affection, lips curling from a smile into a grin as you mimic the action.

It’s stupid how you still manage to make him feel like this after all these years of dating. He’s embarrassed by the faint warmth that envelops his cheeks, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

God, he just fell in love with you all over again.

pottery date | myg

summary. you never expected to find pottery so difficult, so it's a good thing that your boyfriend is right there, ready to help guide you with his gentle hands.

────

pairing: yoongi x f!reader

genre: established relationship au, fluff

word count: 1.1k

content: yoongi and oc goes on a pottery date / yoongi helps oc with pottery / yoongi realises how much he loves oc 🤧

warnings: they’re both very much in love, thats all 😭

a/n: this was inspired by a random tiktok. i have no idea how pottery works so i apologise if any of this is inaccurate. this ended up being shorter than my usual drabbles lol. feedback, likes, reblogs, comments and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i hope you enjoyy <33

────

Pottery is a lot harder than people make it out to be.

You were convinced you’d be a natural at this. After all, how hard could it be to mould some clay into a simple bowl or vase? But now, as you sit at the pottery wheel with a lopsided, uncooperative lump of clay before you, the task seems almost Herculean.

The pottery studio was a hidden gem, tucked away on a quiet street. It was a warm, relaxing place filled with the earthy smell of clay and the constant hum of pottery wheels. This place was Yoongi's idea, after revealing that he had been attending classes for the past month and had completely forgotten to tell you. You had been annoyed with him at first, but your mood instantly changed when he invited you to attend a couple’s class with him.

Now you understand why he had such a smug smile on his face when he suggested it.

You glance over at Yoongi, who sits beside your wheel. His eyes are focused, his long fingers carefully shaping the clay into a perfect cylinder. He wears a simple beige top and dark jeans under an apron tied loosely around his waist. His grown-out hair falls across his eyes in small waves, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“How are you so good at this?” you ask. He looks up, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m just lucky,” he says with a small shrug. "I've also attended more classes than you, so."

"Yeah, which is totally unfair."

Yoongi chuckles. “Want some help?”

You sigh, glancing down at your creation. “Please. This thing looks like it belongs in a horror movie.”

He chuckles, wiping his hands on a damp towel before approaching your wheel. “Alright, let’s see what we can do.”

He pulls his stool closer to you and wraps his arms around yours. Your fingers intertwine on the clay, and his breath fans across the side of your face. His touch is warm and reassuring, his presence somehow making the task seem less daunting. He shifts your fingers slightly, guiding your movements with gentle precision.

“Okay, press down a little more here,” he instructs, his voice low and soothing. “And use your other hand to steady it. See? It’s all about balance.”

You follow his guidance, feeling the clay start to yield under your touch, smoothing into a proper shape. The wheel hums softly beneath your feet as you find a rhythm, the clay cool and malleable against your palms.

“There you go,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. “You’ve got it.”

You relax into his embrace and Yoongi rests his chin on your shoulder. The pleasant, citrusy scent of his perfume overtakes your senses, and for a moment, everything else seems to fade away.

It’s just the two of you, your head resting against his shoulder as you let him control most of your moves. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back and his calloused hands that gently move over yours as you mould the clay together.

“You make it look so easy,” you say, glancing sideways at him. His focus is intent, but there’s a gentle smile on his lips. You ignore the urge to place a peck on the mole that lies just beside his nose.

“It’s all about having the right teacher,” he replies, and you playfully roll your eyes.

Yoongi leans back slightly, letting you take control. You can feel his watchful eyes on you, his presence a comforting weight at your side. He remains close, offering guidance with small nudges or murmured suggestions when you falter.

Occasionally, he whispers words of praise and encouragement in that stupidly attractive voice of his and smirks to himself when he notices the flush on your skin.

As the minutes pass, you find yourself becoming more comfortable, the awkwardness melting away. The clay responds to your touch, smoothing into an even form that vaguely resembles a bowl. It’s far from perfect, of course, but it’s yours.

“Look at that,” Yoongi says, admiration in his voice. “You’re a natural.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Hardly. But it’s better than what I started with, thanks to you.”

“We make a good team,” he says with a grin, that gummy smile lighting up his face.

────

Before leaving, you drag Yoongi along to the pale, wooden shelves that line the walls, displaying an array of colourful mugs and vases with unique shapes and intricate designs. You inspect them all in awe, marvelling at the ones you find pretty and keeping them in mind as inspiration for your next piece.

A small mug catches your eye. It’s coloured in a light shade of cream, with baby pink bows painted across the exterior.

“Would it be taking inspo if I just copy this design?”

Yoongi chuckles softly, stepping closer to you to take a closer look at the mug himself. “Mhm, probably.”

You let out a disappointed sigh. “It’s so pretty though.”

He watches you stare at the mug like it holds the answers to the universe, unable to help the smile that draws across his face. The butterflies in his stomach flutter around at the sight of you looking so fondly at something so mundane.

The urge to kiss you is suddenly overwhelming. He’s so close to you that he can see the few moles dotted across your face and neck, and the faint pigment of your favourite lip gloss shining on your parted lips. In fact, he’s so close that it would take little to no effort to press his mouth to yours.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he squeezes your hand for a few seconds—a secret message that you originally came up with after sensing his hesitance to PDA.

I love you.

The action pulls your gaze from the mug to Yoongi’s face, eyes slightly wide with surprise but clouded with affection, lips curling from a smile into a grin as you mimic the action.

It’s stupid how you still manage to make him feel like this after all these years of dating. He’s embarrassed by the faint warmth that envelops his cheeks, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

God, he just fell in love with you all over again.