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jeonssweater · 1 month ago

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This fic has me fucked up. I’ve cried at pretty much every chapter so far. MC is super relatable. I’ve got to stop at this one because I have to get up early for work tomorrow, but I am finishing asap tomorrow!

back-burner | 11

you were the sun; he'd burn to keep himself close

PAIRING. min yoongi x reader

GENRE. sister’s best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, frenemies?to lovers! au, angst, *slow burn*, eventual smut, eventual fluff

WARNINGS. YOONGI'S POV!!!!, angst, internal conflict, emotional cheating (?), kind of soft if u think about it but it's still sad D:, a confession (SORT OF NOT REALLY), hobi being the best tho

WORDS. 5.6k

NOTE. well....it's finally here! yoongi's pov! this is the real slow burn bc .... we'll only get to see yoongi and oc's interaction after ch10 in ch12 so........🤣anticipate it well, loves! and my apologies for the late update 😓

back-burner masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

There’s a weight in his stomach that Yoongi’s only felt a grand total of two times in his life prior to this moment.

One, was when he had dislocated his shoulder after a pay-per-work job. Along with the dread that consumed his entire being, the shadow of the skid marks that have disappeared from his skin but remained clear in his memory—was a socket left empty where it should be whole. The emptiness consumed him, almost as if his arm was all that he was. Surely, being a med student at that time meant that his arm was all that he was or all that he could be.

Two, another monumental day that he’d often look back and laugh at. The second after he took his boards, the anxiety in the pit of one’s stomach that indicated how hard he’d flunked. Back to interning? Delaying his residency? Growing older before he propelled forward? The thoughts of the future defied Yoongi’s sense of calm, and he’d never forget the way his stomach churned when he looked back at each question, wondering how he could’ve not known.

Well, Yoongi passed. He laughs now. But the weight was heavier than what his body could handle, and his body remembers.

Yoongi never thought he’d feel this way again; believed that he was above the unsettling anxiety of the unknown, of the debilitating fear that leaks into every corner of his mind while he attempts to ground himself back to reality.

But he believes that this is worse.

“Where the fuck is she?” Yoongi hisses, already starting the ignition of his car as Hoseok’s voice hurriedly attempts to diffuse the situation, as if Yoongi wasn’t a second away from telling the man to shut the fuck up.

He’s sent numerous texts and called you more than he’s counted before he hastily picked up the phone once more to dial Hoseok, impatient when the other man took a second too long to send him your location.

“At the bar downtown, the one where her dad used to—” Hoseok doesn’t need to finish his sentence before Yoongi feels the weight grow heavier, almost rooting him in position as he aggressively turns on the speaker to his voice before tossing it onto the passenger seat.

“You’re telling me she went there. Alone. And you fucking let her?” Yoongi sneers so lowly that he has half the mind to stop the car and yell obscenities at the receiver.

But he doesn’t.

Because you were somewhere, drunk, and alone. And Yoongi’s never felt this way before.

This terrified.

“I didn’t know! She literally just texted me to ask if I could get her but I’m out of town and you’re the only person I could think of—”

“Fuck,” Yoongi swears, already speeding out of the carpark of his apartment as he digs his foot into the accelerator even harder, the entire car rumbling along with the engine as it takes his faster and faster to where he’s set on going.

“Don’t be mad at her,” Hoseok says over the phone and Yoongi is seriously this close to telling him to shut the fuck up.

“Don’t—? What she’s doing is fucking reckless!” Yoongi practically yells, chest heaving in anger. But he knows that his rage is rooted in fear, and that’s the only thing that plagues his mind when he cuts lanes like nobody’s business.

“She’s … she’s going through a hard time,” Hoseok says quietly, sounding almost unsure.

“And that means I can’t be worried? Hoseok, you try being in my position and get told that the person you—”

Yoongi stops himself before he says anything that his impulsive mind tells him to. But the silence is loud and it tells him more than he needs to. Tells Hoseok what the word unsaid was, and Yoongi knows that he knows.

The person you love.

Because it’s always been true.

“I’m not saying that, hyung.” Yoongi can hear the frown from the other end; almost pictures the way Hoseok’s heart-shaped lips stretch to an unfamiliar territory as Yoongi’s words give both men something to think about. “All I’m saying is that don’t be too hard on her. She’s probably terrified.”

Yoongi scoffs, the sound barely being picked up by the phone.

“Like I’m not scared shitless at the fact that I don’t know how the fuck she’s doing right now,” he snaps, irritated.

He wonders if Hoseok worries as much as he does. Maybe he did; after all, he did call Yoongi. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that you called Hoseok instead of him. When did that change? When did you start seeing Hoseok as someone you could rely on instead of himself?

“I know,” Hoseok says and Yoongi wants to ask him—really? Did he know? Did he know how his heart dropped when the words first left his lips? Yoongi doubts it. “But—just don’t fight her. She just … she just needs support right now.”

“And she calls you,” he says dryly, ��Calls you when I’m right fucking here,” he continues to mutter.

Another beat of silence and Yoongi clenches his jaw when he realises that he was running his mouth.

“You did seem mad the last time you two talked,” Hoseok says after a while.

Yoongi’s jaw hardens even further, remembering every emotion that went through his mind when he recalls that exact moment that Hoseok was referring to.

Not just that moment, the one when he saw Hoseok attached to your side during that brunch with your parents while he laughed and mingled around with them like he belonged.

Like he belonged with you.

But the moment at the gala, too. When his heart searched for a home in a place so foreign, unknowingly bringing him to a place where the answer lays—with another man.

He remembers so vividly, the way he unintentionally memorised the slope of your swollen lips, blotchy cheeks, the slight staccato of your panting breath—everything that was so forbidden to him, and Hoseok was deserving of. He hated it. Hated that when he closed the door with gritted teeth and a pounding heart that he couldn’t un-hear the way your voice gets a little lighter when you’re with Hoseok; the way it loses the natural edge it had whenever you were with him.

Or, the way that he felt sick that he couldn’t walk away after one door closes. Just like every time he’s tried to, he’s failed. Because he couldn’t just walk away from a place he’s called home to seek an adventure elsewhere when there were so many things left unsaid; so many things that were felt all too intensely.

Yoongi remembers, and he hates that Hoseok’s reminding him of it.

“Fuck you, man,” Yoongi says belatedly, hands tightening around the steering wheel when he somehow returns back to the reality on the road.

“You know, you could just be honest with her,” Hoseok offers, voice knowing and as if he weren’t a city away, or as if he had all the time in the world to be discussing whatever the fuck they were discussing over the phone. And as if, Yoongi hadn’t just cursed him out.

“How about you do that first and not string her along?” Yoongi snaps.

Silence.

A sigh.

“Hyung. It’s not like that,” he says slowly.

“Then tell me what the fuck is it then? You fuck every girl you see at her dad’s gala? Go out to brunch dates with her parents? Fuck, Hoseok. I’m not stupid. Don’t fucking toy with her like this if you aren’t—”

“I’m telling you to be honest with your feelings.”

Yoongi just about pulls up to the bar, and it’s a packed night. He’s speechless, baffled at the way that Hoseok returns his rage with nothing but calamity and balance. It’s almost laughable; that the only time he’ll ever lose his cool—is when you were concerned.

“Me—? Excuse me?”

“You asked me to try imagine being in your position when you get told that the person you love could be in potential danger, right?” Hoseok continues, posing the same question left unfinished back to Yoongi as he splutters for a response.

“What—?”

“The thing is, I tried, hyung,” Hoseok chuckles softly, “I tried to and I can’t. Because I don’t love her the way you do. Because no matter how much you want to try to convince yourself that she and I are together so you can avoid acknowledging your own feelings for her, you’re still at that bar at nearly 3 am in the morning because you’re worried sick. You do that when you’re in love.”

Yoongi wants to hang up. Wants to grab the phone from the passenger seat and curse some more at Hoseok. Not because he hated him. He and Hoseok were good friends, but his mind was muddled and nothing made sense right now. He was still terrified because you were somewhere in that bar, yet Hoseok had laid out the truth to him that he was all too afraid of admitting.

Even if it had always been true.

“Hoseok,” Yoongi says calmly, instead of the curses he planned. He picks up the phone and brings it to his ear, letting the hum that Hoseok lets out to settle before he takes a deep breath of his own.

“Fuck you for sleeping with her,” he whispers.

“Never again,” Hoseok replies, and Yoongi can practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face before he hangs up.

Yoongi hasn’t been here in a long time. And the last time he had, he remembered the vile aftertaste it left in his mouth when he was forced to watch the way some of the directors of the hospital ogle the women here like they were commodities and not human. Yoongi was a principled man, he detested men with no morale—but he was selfish, and he was human. His throat would clam up before he could call them out, divert their attention to how disgusting they were being—but he remembers their power, their ability to take his livelihood away from him in the form of his job.

But Yoongi’s tired of being silent, in fact, it’s not so much that he’s tired right now; it’s because he’s fucking livid. And a hair breadth away from bashing someone’s face onto the bar top.

He hates that he recognises the face of the man immediately. Oh Sungyeon. Frankly, he wished he hadn’t because he would’ve had way fewer reservations of beating him to a pulp for what he was forced to witness.

And that’s the second thing he hates: the fact that you were wincing, in pain, because of that man.

Hoseok would bail him out, right?

“Leave me alone!”

Your voice is enough to ground him, to tell himself to be realistic. He couldn’t end up in jail. He wouldn’t be able to give Sungyeon hell for what he was doing to you. His grimy, sick, vile hands wrapped around your hair while you struggled in his grasp.

Yoongi’s nails are digging almost painfully into his palm.

Sungyeon says something but Yoongi can’t hear with how fucking angry he is. At him. At you. At Hoseok. At this situation. At himself.

“Get your hands off her now.”

Yoongi sounds all too composed for a man that’s picturing several different ways to end Sungyeon’s life, in graphic detail, especially when your body locks and Sungyeon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“And who are you, pretty boy?”

It’s no good, that his hands are still wrapped around your hair.

Only when Yoongi talks a threatening step forward does his fingers loosen. And when it does, you immediately stumble into Yoongi’s arms, his hands immediately finding their way around your waist to steady you—to keep you close.

Finally, he thinks, you’re safe with me.

Then he remembers, you weren’t with him. Not like that. Not like how he so desperately wants.

Yoongi says something else, voice menacingly low and he feels you tense in his grasp—but that only makes his grip tighten around you. Yoongi can’t picture himself letting go, not now, when the fear still consumes him and anger drives the venomous glare he was levelling Sungyeon with.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Sungyeon fumes like the piece of shit he was, and Yoongi can only think of how he was going to ruin this man’s life.

“You laid a hand on her. You pay,” Yoongi threatens lowly.

He feels your body shift into him when Sungyeon makes even the slightest of movements and he hates it. He hates how scared you look despite the brave facade you attempt to put on. He knows it’s all an act because your eyes didn’t glimmer in the way you did when you were challenging everyone around you in the way that he’s grown to adore. Or how the sharp tip of your tongue was now left blunt when you attempt to open your mouth to say something to only snap it shut when your eyes drift downwards.

He hates it even more that Sungyeon did this to you—took all the little things that made up everything he’s ever loved about you—and crushed it with just his presence.

Yoongi is running on pure rage at this point. He echoes the scums name as if it burned his tongue, the man shocked that Yoongi was able to identify him; called him out for being a piece of shit and unfaithful to his wife—and the fact that his father was nothing like the sorry excuse of a human that stood before him.

“If I ever see you lay a hand on her or any woman ever again—” Yoongi pushes you behind him, making sure to never let go of your waist even as you stand behind his back—as he lowers his voice when speaking to Sungyeon. “I’ll get you fired.”

Yoongi laid everything out, made it clear that if Sungyeon ever dared to ever so look at you, that he’d pay. Hell.

“You think I give a shit bout’ if I have my job or not, asshole? One call and I’m back in, baby.”

He hears your breath hitch and the way your fingers clutch against his shirt even tighter. That’s enough to make Yoongi take a threatening step forward.

“You better thank your graces out there that I’m only threatening your job, Sungyeon.” And not your life. You better be grateful that I’m not bashing your head into the ground for touching her.

“What power do you have?” he scoffs, all too lighthearted for someone who’s on thin ice with a man who’s only out to make his life hell.

“The power of a very pissed off man,” Yoongi says lowly, tone a warning.

Yoongi betrays himself and you for a split second, the image of your petrified eyes behind his eyelids when he lets go of your waist to step even closer to Sungyeon. His fist raises, and he thinks it’d be so easy to just swing—and feel that sick satisfaction of his busted lip, or nose, or anything—

But he doesn’t.

Because you’re still scared.

And you’d never want him to do this.

So, he rests his hand on Sungyeon’s shoulder with a sense of vigorousness that startles the other man. Yoongi’s jaw is clenched, and he takes a deep breath to level his thoughts out before he did anything that would take away from what he was here to do—to keep you safe.

“Leave before I lose it,” Yoongi says when he leans into Sungyeon’s ear, squeezing his shoulder extra roughly before shoving the man away from him with enough force to have him stumbling ever so slightly.

Only then does he feel your shaky hand on his elbow.

He almost holds it, as if on instinct. Almost turns around and wraps his arms around you as he whispers into your hair how fucking glad you’re safe. Almost kisses you on the lips because that’s all he’s ever wanted to do.

But he doesn’t, because he can’t.

And he’s angry. Not because of anything but this entire fucking situation. And how much he wants to be there for you without all this ambiguity. All this fear. All these thoughts but no action.

“Yoongi …”

Your voice. He wants to tell you that it’s okay. That he’s thankful you’re here, well enough to talk. But he thinks it’s a shitty situation, so instead, he says:

“Don’t fucking talk to me right now.”

Because I might just say something I’ll regret.

His back is turned towards you and that’s all Yoongi can offer for now. It’s a paradox between his innate desire to reach out to you, to tell you that he doesn’t quite know what he’d do if anything happened to you—and the safety net he’s created for himself as he takes a step further away from you.

Yoongi hates that he can feel the way you shrink into yourself, small. Terrified. Nothing like the louder than life character you were and Yoongi’s grown to learn about more and more every single day.

“I’m—”

Your voice is enough to have his eyes flutter shut because it’s only a reminder of how distant the two of you really were even if you were right behind him.

“I said don’t.”

Yoongi turns, and he tries his best to keep his eyes trained straight ahead. But it’s no use, not when your eyes remain trained to the ground as he spots the way you nibble on your lips out of nervousness.

It’s only when he allows himself to really look at you is when he stiffens further.

You were gorgeous. And he felt sick that he still felt this way despite how the night unfolded. Even when you were unsure, when you were happy, when you were angry; when you were irritated; when you were cackling until your lungs gave out—Yoongi’s always found you captivating. A force to be reckoned with, a force that pulls him in.

But he understands the context of your outfit. It’s risqué. Yoongi feels his fists clench then unclench, his mind blanking then going at a hundred miles per minute.

He didn’t have the right to feel this way. You weren’t his. Neither were you an object. You were a human, a woman, an empty canvas painted with all the colours of your life. A beautiful opus of all his deepest desires that was so out of reach but right in front of him. He couldn’t feel this way.

“Or I’ll say something I regret.”

His voice betrays him before he can think twice, and before you can react, or even look up—Yoongi knows—he grabs your wrist, fingers unconsciously tightening when people stare at your bodies while you exit.

The natural warmth of your body radiates from your skin and against his back where you’re pressed relatively tight against. Yoongi isn’t giving you a chance to slip away; he won’t let that happen. Not when he’s seen what he never wanted to—felt a way that he never wants to relive.

His feet are quick, and before he knows it, the two of you were at his car.

“Yoongi, my phone—“

Not unswearing, Yoongi opens the door for you with a clenched jaw and guides you inside. He still can’t look at you because it hurts. It hurts that you’re here, with him—and you weren’t really with him. The realisation returns all at once and he hates it. Hates that you’re rendered silent when he basks in your jibes and retorts even if he’d roll his eyes at them.

He drops your phone onto your lap without another word.

Yoongi climbs into the driver seat like he was programmed to, mutely revving up the engine while you mimic his actions, only by peering down at your phone. He wonders if you’ve seen his texts, and if you did—did you know how terrified he was? Did you know that despite his anger, all he wants to do is hold you?

Did you?

Noticing the way you were shifting uncomfortably, and the way your dress hikes up your thighs, he wordlessly drops a blanket onto your lap in the terse silence. There’s no radio to act as a buffer and he doesn’t make an effort to create one.

Yoongi drives the two of you in silence, but his thoughts run wild.

“Yoongi …”

Yoongi didn’t want to lose his temper. Frankly, it wasn’t so much his temper but the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate this feeling. An uncomfortable sense of inadequacy when his mind managed to relax after a while as he wonders. Why were you there? Why were you drinking? Why were you alone? What happened that prompted you to do something as reckless as that?

It was also the fact that you looked like a kicked puppy, eyes wide in guilt as if you did something wrong. Yoongi knew that the way he was acting implied that you did, but he didn’t know how to verbalise his worry—or manoeuvre the fact that you couldn’t even bear to look at him.

“Drink and eat up,” he repeats calmly, palm digging into his thigh when you shift in your place, the farthest one from where he sits.

“Yoongi, you’re clearly pissed. I’ll just catch a cab home or something—”

He was pissed.

You were right.

But oh, how foolish you were to think that he was pissed at you rather than this situation.

“Are you serious?” Yoongi snaps, feeling all the strings unravel within him when he feels his chest heave. “You think I’m going to let you take a cab at 3 a.m. in the morning when you’re in the state you are?”

And risk that fear of something happening to you? Never.

“I-I just …”

“You think because I’m pissed I’d let you put yourself in danger?” He’s running his mouth but he can’t stop. Even if something comes out of it that he may regret. “You went to a bar where rich men literally go to take advantage of unsuspecting women like you.”

Stop, Yoongi.

“And you do what is possibly the most reckless shit you can do there. You drink—no—you get drunk—without an actual ride back? Alone? What were you thinking?”

Why were you blaming her? Why aren’t you being honest with her? Why can’t you just tell her?

“I know,” you mumble so softly that Yoongi barely catches it. He feels his heart clench when he catches a glimpse of your glassy eyes. “I know, okay? You don’t need to yell at me.”

Yoongi almosts holds you. Almost reaches out for the umpteenth time to tell you that all he wanted was you being safe. That he wanted to hold you until the morning came and until you forget Sungyeon’s face and name.

Instead, he replaces his desires with a safer option.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

You visibly pause.

He calls your name, strict, to mask the ache he’s been trying to ignore the entire night. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Yoongi sees you hesitate, already ready to reach out for real this time—until your lips part.

“I … we—” you stumble over your words while he frowns. “…I thought you were mad at me. About Hoseok.”

What?

Yoongi takes a second to process it, and then the feeling of irrationality returns.

“So I had to find out that you were at a dangerous place getting wasted from Hoseok?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you—”

Yoongi stiffens.

You thought you were a disturbance … to him?

Yoongi almost scoffs, as if he wouldn’t put himself through hell to make sure you were okay.

“Didn’t you consider that it would’ve disturbed me a hell of a lot more if something happened to you and I couldn’t do anything?”

You don’t respond and Yoongi takes a deep breath to collect himself, a million thoughts racing in his mind as he attempts to ground himself.

This isn’t about you, he reminds himself.

“And you decided to take a chance with Hoseok? What if something happened? What if Hoseok didn’t have the sense to call me? What if I didn’t get here on time? What would’ve fucking happened?”

Yoongi knew that there was virtually no point in his questions. They were redundant because you were here, safe, with him. But the irrational part of him still wonders: what if? Not just about tonight, but what if he wasn’t so afraid? What if he had been honest all this while? Could this situation have been prevented? Would it change anything? Would he be able to hold you right now like he wanted to instead of throwing words at you as if they’d change anything?

Would it?

Before he knows it, his hand is reaching out to grab your wrist on instinct. He needed to hold you, however way possible.

“Look at me.”

I want you to be okay.

He calls your name when you don’t.

“I’m sorry,” you respond instead.

Yoongi feels his heart drop once more, and he can never get used to this feeling. He wasn’t unfeeling per se, but he had impeccable self-control. Yoongi was rational, everyone knew that. But there was something about you that made him irrational; that brought out the ugly human in him that he tried to suppress to fulfil this perception that people had of him.

Only you’d evoke this feeling from him.

“I don’t care if you think I’m pissed at you or if you’re pissed at me. You call me if you need me. I’ll get you.” And he would, anywhere, always. If it was you—he’d be there.

You apologise, again. But he barely catches it when his mind runs faster than his mouth.

“No matter how angry I am at you I’d never leave you in danger, you get that? I’d be angrier with myself if anything happened to you.” Yoongi can’t help but squeeze harder around your wrist, shifts a little closer just so he could take an invincible leap of faith that he wished he had the bravery to fully execute.

Immediately, he sees the tears well up in your eyes and he’s already acting before he can think twice.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs softly, hand reaching around your chin so you’d look at him. You’re already fighting against him, and it only makes him want to hold you, even more, to tell you that you didn’t have to fight. That no matter how much you tried to pretend that you were okay, or push him away—he’d be there, waiting until you were ready. “Shh, it’s okay.

Yoongi can tell you were trying to hold back your tears, but he doesn’t comment on it. You try to pull away when he finally gives in; he holds you tight like he’s always wanted to. It could be disguised as a concern but he knew it was more than that. Yoongi hates that it’s a shitty situation but he was human, and he only had so much self-control left when it came to you.

Yoongi knows that this—how it feels so right to have you against him despite the context—was wrong. You weren’t his. You weren’t his to hold. There was a boundary that he recognised and he was overstepping it. He was with someone. Haerin.

Even if she and him both knew where he’d rather be.

Here.

“Stop apologising,” he says firmly when you continue to mumble apologies through your tears. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

With me, is what he wanted to say but he keeps his mouth shut.

When you blubber incoherencies, Yoongi holds you tighter on instinct. You don’t fight him, and your tears stain his t-shirt. It’s damp and hot, but he can’t be bothered by how it feels when he presses you tighter against his chest, fearful that you’d disappear. His own eyes flutter shut for a split second, and even then, when he loses you for that moment—he realises how much he couldn’t live in a world where you weren’t there.

“Thank you.” He hears you say quietly. “For—for…”

“You okay?” he asks softly, brushing over your hair. He wonders if it’s as comforting for you as it is for him.

“My scalp hurts.”

He feels the anger boil again and he’s rethinking a million ways to detach all his limbs from Sungyeon’s body and making sure that he never lives a good life after he crosses the path with Yoongi’s wrath.

“M’ gonna fucking kill him,” he snaps mindlessly.

“You scared him off,” you say softly.

Yoongi laughs, and it’s semi-genuine. Only because it seemed like you thought that was enough. As if Yoongi’s job stopped there just because he managed to scare Sungyeon away. He almost wants to laugh harder; you didn’t know half the things he’d do for you.

“You think that’s enough? He deserves more than me just scaring the shit out of him for laying his grabby hands on you.”

“Don’t do that,” you scold softly, but it’s weak.

“He hurt you,” he returns firmly.

“Yeah, b-but—”

Maybe Yoongi was the drunk one. Maybe he didn’t have that much self-control as he thought. Maybe he had enough. Maybe this was it.

“I’m not going to let anyone get away with hurting you.”

It’s the truth, but it’s not all there is to it. Yoongi knows the absolute truth. The one he’s always known. From the moment you almost crashed his parents’ car when he was teaching you how to drive. From the moment you ate all his ice cream in spite of him not letting you go over a particular speed. From the moment he’s known the one truth he’ll find true for the rest of his life—Yoongi knows this.

Maybe, he’d take the chance.

Then, a beat. Silence; and your eyes drop to his lips. He wasn’t hallucinating, right? Your eyes shifted? Because he was peering into them; he thinks they’re beautiful. Just like the rest of you. Just like you’ve always been.

“Yoongi …” Your voice is breathless, and Yoongi thinks that this is when he loses it. When he decides that he’s waited long enough—even if it’s wrong. That he wasn’t in the position to do anything.

Maybe, he’d finally learn the taste of your lips.

“Hm?” Is all he says, and there’s a hair in your face that he brushes away. He feels you shrink, but not in the way that makes you look small. In the way that makes you look … flustered.

Were you?

Just do it.

His eyes drop to your lips. You’re so close.

This is all you’ve wanted.

He shifts, his hand cupping your jaw as you melt into his touch. It feels … right. Like you belong; as if every part of you was the missing piece to the space he’s always had for someone that was right there all along.

Kiss her.

Yoongi decides fuck it—

And his phone rings.

It’s a horrid reality check because he realises that as much as his impulse tells him to go for it, that he couldn’t. No, he shouldn’t. Even if that was the only thing he can ever think of when he was around you.

Yoongi jumps and you shift backwards. Suddenly the force that once pulled him to you is now reversed; the two of you avert your eyes as Yoongi scrambles for his phone. He already knows who’s calling. The person he selfishly put below his own yearning.

“Hello?”

“Yoongi, oh my God,” she lets out a sigh of relief on the other end and Yoongi immediately feels himself grow guilty. “I was trying to get a hold of you but you weren’t answering. Is she okay? Is she with you right now? How is she?”

“She’s okay,” he clips, “She’s with me.”

“What happened? Are you sure she’s okay? Can you tell her that I hope she’s okay and that I’m always here to talk. You know. As a sister,” Haerin says hesitantly, and Yoongi grows even guiltier because was he really going to be that person that wedged himself in between a sibling relationship?

“Yeah. I’ll deal with it. I’ll tell her,” he says quickly, and Haerin says her goodbyes before the call ends.

The silence is … awkward. And it only reminds Yoongi of what he had almost done; how he almost took this situation and made it about him when it was about you.

“Haerin says she hopes you’re okay, and if you need to talk then you can call her,” he says, hoping that he masks his unease.

“Right,” you say tightly, a stiff smile forming on your face that Yoongi immediately sees through. “I’ll just …”

“Take my bed,” Yoongi says quickly, “The guest room’s a mess.”

He’s glad you don’t fight him, and you retreat into his room without another word as Yoongi’s left to marinate in his thoughts.

What was he doing?

You’re fast asleep, duvet tucked under your chin as your brows furrow. Yoongi almost feels like a creep, but it’s also instinctual how he immediately checks up on you when he couldn’t catch a wink of sleep, the thought of you floating in his mind.

Then, he leans down, his hand brushing the crown of your head soft enough so that it doesn’t wake you—and he brushes his lips against it.

“I—“ he swallows, still not brave enough to utter it out loud even if the night knows the truth as much as he does. He retreats his hand, and his eyes flutter shut as he takes a deep breath before he follows up with a step back.

I love you.

#yoongurt #yoongi x reader

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jeonssweater · 2 years ago

Text

nsfw alphabet - lee know

genre: smut 18+ ! lee know x fem. reader

word count: 1.4k

synopsis: an alphabetical list of smut. enjoy!

A: Aftercare

After your session he will definitely want to catch his breath. Once he has, he would be a sweetheart and get you anything you need and take care of you. After a few minutes he would definitely be back to being a tease. Smirking at you, laughing at how sensitive you are, reminding you how loud you were. He will definitely take care of you, but wouldn't hold back on the teasing and flirting.

B: Body

On him: Definitely his thighs. He is very proud of his legs and how thick they have gotten as a dancer. Plus he knows how much you love them. So they definitely feed his ego now.

On you: Ass and thighs. Have you seen how often he smacks all the boys asses??? He would definitely grab it and slap it no matter the location. He's possessive and loves the fact you're all his.

C: Cum

He is extremely possessive so he loves to cum inside you, with permission of course! Or definitely on your ass.

He loves making you cum first. He still cant believe he's with you so he makes sure you really enjoy yourself before he does.

D: Dirty Secret

He really wants to try BDSM with you. He loves pushing the limits and enjoys being dominant so he thinks this would be perfect to try.

He definitely masturbates to pictures of you when he's traveling and not with you. He would be in bed scrolling through his phone on social media. He would then see a picture you posted, which looks innocent, but his mind wanders to your body and how he knows what you look like out of those clothes.

He would love to have phone sex with you. Or facetime while you touch yourselves. He just doesn't know how to bring it up. He might be dominant but he's still shy at asking you try try new things.

E: Experience

He's definitely experienced, but I feel like he's only been with a couple girls. Him being an idol doesn't leave him with much time. He definitely watched a lot of porn before you which is how he learned how to please his partner well. He learns new things with you each time.

F: Favorite Position

He loves doggy style. He loves seeing your ass clap against his thighs. When things escalate he would grab you by the hair or neck and bring your back against his chest while he pounds into you and his other hand goes past your belly to rub your clit.

G: Goofy

It depends. His complete focus is on making you and him feel good. So I don't think he would be goofy during sex. I think he would be extremely serious. The only exception is morning sex when you're both lazy and tired. He would let out a couple giggles, but besides that he will always have a serious demeanor.

H: Hair

He doesn't really care about hair. If he knows he wont see you for a while he will let it grow out, but once you're back together hell trim it. and keep it tame. I don't think he would shave it off completely.

I: Intimacy

He always has at least one intimate moment with you during sex. He loves to be rough and passionate, but intimacy is a must. He loves to show his love for you though his actions.

J: Jerks Off

He has a high sex drive so if he doesn't have you then he will definitely masturbate. He prefers you, but he's away so often it sometimes cant be helped. Instead of using porn like he used to he just pictures you and what he would do to you if you were there.

K: Kinks

Dirty Talk: ( Giving & Receiving) Dirty talk is his specialty. He's naturally so good at it. If you respond to him it really gets him going.

Choking: (Giving) He loves to wrap his fingers around your throat while he pounds into you and feeling the moans escaping your mouth.

Edging: (Giving) He loves teasing you and making you work for it by begging him . It really turns him on. By doing this repeatedly it also makes your orgasm all the much stronger when he finally lets you which gives him satisfaction at how good he made you feel.

I feel that he has a lot of kinks, but those are the main ones!

L: Location

He does not care where you are as long as he makes you both feel amazing. He will do it anywhere. As long as no one can see your body since you are his and he is very possessive. But best believe he will tease you and be very touchy in public.

M: Motivation

If you tease him or wear revealing clothing he will most definitely punish you later. Also just the view of your ass turns him on.

N: No

He is open to a lot of things but extreme kinks like hurting you, he's definitely not into. He likes being rough but seeing you hurt will hurt him.

He would never share you or do a threesome. This man is super possessive.

O: Oral

He loves both giving and receiving. However he likes receiving a bit more. He loves seeing you look up at him with your pretty eyes while you have him wrapped around your mouth like a lollypop. He loves loves loves face fucking you. Gagging drives him insane.

He loves seeing you squirm under his touch. How aggressive you grab his hair and when you're close how your thighs squish his head. He loves how you taste.

P: Pace

When you haven't seen each other in a long time he loves to start at a slow and teasing pace, but soon enough he will have you screaming his name. This man loves going deep, fast, and rough. If he's pounding you doggy style he will be gripping your waist and hips roughly. He will definitely leave you sore and maybe bruised from his grip.

Q: Quickie

He loves to take his time with you, but he's always busy so he's down to do it. If you're teasing him in public he would find somewhere quiet and private to fuck you there and then.

R: Risk

He is up for a risk, but since he's possessive he would never take it too far to the point you get caught.

S: Stamina

He has lots of stamina and can go all night. He would give you breaks, but you better pray, because this man does not get tired easily.

T: Toys

He isn't the biggest fan of them. He will definitely use a vibrator sometimes to make your orgasm more intense, but he gets way more gratification from knowing he did it with his hands and cock. If you ever tease him or use one on yourself without him he will make you suffer all night.

U: Unfair

He is the biggest tease. One of his kinks is edging. He will stop when you're close and make you beg for it. He gets turned on with how hot and bothered you get when he teases and edges you on.

V: Volume

He's somewhere in the middle. As his orgasm approaches he will let out some moans. He definitely will be breathing heavy. When he reaches his orgasm he lets out the hottest moan a man can muster. It isn't as loud as yours but its so erotic.

W: Wild Card

It doesn't happen all the time, but there have been times that you both came around the same time and those seconds are his favorite. The love he feels for you is so strong during that moment. He cant help but pull you into the most loving, passionate, yet delicate kiss while he's still inside you.

X: X-Ray

A solid 5-6 inches. On the thicker side with a slight curve to it.

Y: Yearning

He has a very high sex drive. As soon as he thinks or even sees you he can go at it. Any time of the day, and anywhere. However he has a lot of self control if you're not in the mood.

Z: Zzz

He makes sure you are cleaned up and have everything you need. He will almost always wait for you to fall asleep first. He loves to rub your back and give you a bunch of intimate pecks and kisses. Sometimes he has fallen asleep before you since he works a long schedule and couldn't help it.

#I liked this!#so often I see Minho written as a mean dom #I can’t see him that way #teasing yes

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