#agust d imagine smut

[13lov]

tethered pt. 2 | jjk

✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 10k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, friendship betrayal, mention of drugs/alcohol, smut [ cunnilingus, rough sex, ...idk how else to describe it ] reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.

✰ a/n. long awaited part 2! the amount of love i received from part one was overwhelming and it means to world to meet that so many people instantly fell in love with this couple. another part is already in the works!

✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @ilikekpop-c @busanbby-jjk @xjjk187 @aloverga @kookcobain @mzeji @bxcndd @hoseokteardrop @canyon-lwt @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @jksteponme @parkinglot-nights @chromekingkong @jk97bam [ if i didn't tag u it's because tumblr didn't allow me to! ]

part one | masterlist | ao3 | buy me a coffee?

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” Somi is glaring daggers at you upon opening the front door, arms crossed across her chest as she eyes you. Her lips are twisted into a disgusted snarl, you’ve never seen her this upset before.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Find out about what?”

She cocks her head to the side, squinting her eyes at you. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Fuck, you’re screwed. If there were a list of all the reasons why you shouldn’t have had sex with Jeon Jungkook, the simple fact of  him being your best friend’s brother would be number one.

With closed eyes, you let out a relieved sigh. As much as you wanted to wait to tell Somi about hooking up with Jungkook, it’d be an enormous weight off your shoulders not having to hide it any longer. It’d only been a few days since it happened, but you really hate keeping secrets from her.

“How’d you find out?” You question, chewing on your bottom lip.

“My parents told me, duh.”

Holy crap, Jungkook told his parents the two of you had sex? Why the fuck would he do that?

“They did?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“Well, yeah!” Somi finally uncrosses her arms, demeanor completely changing as her gaze softens, “Why didn’t you tell me your sister got engaged?”

Thank God you didn’t elaborate any further.

“Oh! Because they probably aren’t gonna last.” You respond, stepping into the Jeon household once Somi allows you to enter. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here, mostly due to the fact that you were completely avoiding Jungkook.

The empty condom in his trash bin had been plaguing your mind nonstop, you could barely even sleep from how embarrassed you were. Why did he fake his orgasm? What if he didn't fake an orgasm and just shot a blank? Did you do something wrong? Was he not attracted to you? Why was the condom empty? 

Seeing him in person would’ve only intensified the thoughts roaming in your head, so you avoided him at all costs up until now. You’d promised the Jeon siblings that you’d finally see Twilight with them and their friends despite not being able to function correctly around either of them. 

Somi snickers, following you into the living room. “Ooh, that’s not nice.”

“It’s true, though,” you explain, “she’s still so young, only a few years older than your brother. I mean, can you picture Jungkook getting married in a few years?”

The regret from that question fills you almost immediately.

“Sure,” Somi responds, pausing to greet the eager doberman charging at her. “As long as he finds the right person. He’d get married in a heartbeat.”

You want to ask what Somi’s definition of “the perfect person” would be for Jungkook or the type of girl she’d be willing to set him up with. It’d probably be the unnamed, mysterious redhead you recently dreamed about curb stomping (yikes!).

You don’t respond to this, taking a seat on the sofa when the sudden shout of your name has you flinching. It’s Somi’s parents, excitedly greeting you with open arms as you politely stand to properly hug them. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve seen you! How’s your family? We just heard the news about your sister!” Mrs. Jeon ambushes you with questions, all while cradling your face.

“About how she’s making the biggest mistake of her life?” You half-joke.

Mrs. Jeon playfully waves a hand in your direction as she steps into the kitchen, her husband only a few feet behind. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure the two of them will be very happy together.” She turns to her husband, grabbing his hand, “I just can’t believe Imogen is getting married. I still remember when she first started high school.” 

Mr. Jeon sighs in disbelief. “I know,” he mumbles, nodding at you. “You’re up next soon, huh?”

“Maybe she can marry Jungkook,” Mrs. Jeon comments, opening her fridge, “set him straight.”

“Gross, Mom. Don’t wish that on her.” Somi groans in disgust as she plops down next to you.

Well, that answers your previous question.

“We should probably get going, right? To make it in time for the trailers?” You ask.

“Yeah, we should.” Somi responds, tilting her head up towards the staircase, “Jungkook! Hurry up and come downstairs! We’re ready to go!”

“Gimmie a minute!” He shouts back, and a chill runs down your spine. It’s been too long since you’ve heard his voice. The last time you saw him, he was lying naked in his bed; you’re not sure how you’ll survive being around him all night knowing what your last encounter was like.

As promised, Jungkook is sliding down the staircase a minute later and nails the landing. He’s wearing a black Twilight shirt featuring the leading couple, black cargo pants, and, of course, black sneakers. He looks like his usual self until you take a closer look and notice the reddish-black eyeshadow that decorated his eyes. It wasn’t much, just enough to make his eyes pop, and it complimented him perfectly. A second later, you see the black nail polish neatly coated on his nails. You have to blink a few times to ensure this is real life and you’re not trapped in a wet dream.

He strolls into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from his parents before digging through the fridge. His mom clears her throat, crossing her arms at him.

“What?” He asks, retrieving a two-liter Mountain Dew bottle. 

“Seriously, Jungkook? The makeup? The nail polish?” She questions, clearly frustrated.

Jungkook cocks his head, unscrewing the soda bottle’s lid. “What’s wrong with it? Somi’s wearing the same thing.”

“Son, you know that’s different.” His father interjects.

Jungkook takes a swig of the soda before responding. “Why? Because she’s a girl?”

“It’s not like that, hon. It’s just…we didn’t make a big deal of it when you first started the piercings, and the tattoos, and the hair dye, but this…it’s a little much. Don’t you think?” His mother asks.

You want to step in and remind his parents that Jungkook is old enough to make his own decisions and express himself as he pleases, but it’s not your place. Instead, you cheer silently when Somi surprisingly interrupts the discussion. “Did you guys seriously force him to come back home just to criticize how he presents himself, or would you rather have a peaceful summer?”

“We aren’t trying to criticize him, Somi. We’re just looking out for our child.” Mr. Jeon responds.

“It’s a special occasion, Dad. Is it bad that I wanted to look nice for—” Jungkook abruptly cuts himself short, quickly glancing in your direction before returning his attention to his parents. “...to go see Twilight with my friends?”

What was that about?

Silence passes, and the three stare at each other until Mrs. Jeon sighs defeatedly and says, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. I hope you guys enjoy the movie.”

“We will,” Jungkook responds, closing the soda bottle lid and placing it back in the fridge. He heads for the front door, beckoning you and Somi to follow behind. He’s eager to leave the house, quickly swinging the front door open and jogging towards his car.

You and Somi say goodbye to her parents with a promise to be home by eleven before following in Jungkook’s footsteps, who already has the car running. As you wait for Somi to finish locking the front door, Jungkook rolls down his window and shouts, “Hurry up! Let’s go!”

“Will you calm down?!” Somi throws back, rolling her eyes as she finally removes the house key from the lock.

You follow her towards Jungkook’s car, sliding into the backseat as you pretend not to notice Jungkook watching you through the rearview mirror. He wants you to look at him, but you refuse, busying yourself by buckling your seatbelt and convincing Somi to do the same. Once Jungkook is convinced you’re not going to do so much as glance at him, he puts the car in drive and pulls into the road.

Somi talks your ear off in the backseat about whatever comes to mind while you keep your eyes on the window. It’s hard to not notice Jungkook glancing back at you through the mirror at every red light or stop sign, but you don’t dare meet his gaze.

The movie theater’s parking lot is crowded when you arrive; it takes Jungkook a few minutes to eventually locate a spot. A smile is plastered on his face as he parks the car, eager to see some of his closest friends after being separated for months. He informs you and Somi to disregard anything foolish he friends may say, claiming they arrived early to smoke behind the movie theater, so they’re more than likely too high to function properly.

Jungkook shrugs when Somi asks why people do that, shoving his hands into his pockets as the three of you approach the theater entrance. "Some people say it makes the movie experience better."

You want to ask Jungkook if he's ever been high, but you can barely even bring yourself to look in his direction, let alone ask him a question. So you're silent as the three of you enter the movie theater, instantly spotting Jungkook's bandmates in the far corner.

Well… Jungkook's bandmates and one other guest.

The bubbly redhead greets you guys first, running up to Jungkook with open arms as if they haven't seen each other in a million years. It makes you want to vomit.

You look away as they hug, directing your attention to the concession stand employee who had already been watching you. His name tag reads 'Beomgyu,' and he resembles a younger version of Jungkook, with the same dark hair and similar lip piercings. His eyes stay on you until a customer blocks your path, and you're back to watching Jungkook reunite with his friends.

"Hey, you were the one at that party, right? With Somi?" The redhead asks, squinting her eyes at you.

"Yeah." Is all you respond with, because why in God's name is this girl talking to you right now?

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Scar," she introduces herself, extending a hand for you to shake.

Somi interjects, grabbing ahold of your wrist while glaring at Scar. "Your name is Scarlett."

She drags you along to the ticket booth, mumbling about how she doesn't like nor trust Scar. When you ask for her reasoning, she responds with, "I don't need one. I just don't like her."

At least you're on the same page about that. 

Still, you can't help but wonder why Somi has a distaste for Scar. You have your petty reasoning for disliking her, but Somi (more than likely) has better knowledge of Scar's personality, so whatever reasons she dislikes her could be legitimate. 

You're thinking of this as Jungkook orders the tickets for everyone, asking the employee to give him a minute when the friend you recognize as Yugyeom starts tapping his shoulder. "We should go see Saw instead; it just came out."

Jungkook looks genuinely confused at the suggestion. "What? No, we came here to see Twilight."

"So?!" Jaebeom chimes in, eyes red as the devil, "Come on, dude, you've already seen Twilight. Don't you wanna see something new?"

"Fuck no, we're literally in the middle of buying the tickets." Jungkook reminds everyone.

"I kinda wanna see Saw, too."

"Same."

"Yeah, me too."

"I do, too."

Jungkook whips his head around at his sister, "What? Even you?"

Somi scoffs, "Well, yeah! Twilight just seems boring in comparison."

"Come on, guys," the employee interrupts, "you're holding up the line."

Jungkook turns towards you. "Do you still wanna see Twilight?"

Truthfully, you want to go home; but seeing how excited Jungkook was for the movie made you feel something, so you nod. He lets out a relieved sigh. 

He moves out of the way to allow his friends to buy their tickets first, slipping his sister cash to pay for hers, which she initially rejects. "I don't need your money," she claims.

"Just take it, Somi. I brought it for you." 

From what you can make out, it's enough to cover her ticket and grab something from the concession stand. The pair of siblings may bicker a lot, but it's nice to know Jungkook still looks out for his younger sister whenever he can.

Somi reluctantly accepts the money and purchases her ticket; you watch as Jungkook follows suit, ordering two tickets for Twilight and stopping you from opening your purse. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, it's fine. I have enough." You reassure him.

Jungkook laughs to himself, "Why are the two of you like this?" He questions, fishing out crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and handing them to the cashier, who sighs in annoyance, straightening and inspecting each bill before placing it in his register.

You don't know why Jungkook insists on being so nice to you despite your persistence in not speaking to him. A part of you wonders if he thinks this is some kind of date now that the two of you will be separated from the group. It doesn't matter. You don't know why you're overthinking it.

Once all the tickets have been purchased, the seven of you head towards the concession stand. Somi debates pushing herself to the front of the long line, claiming that the theater should make accommodations for those whose movie is starting sooner. Or something like that, you can't really focus with the way Beomgyu is staring at you. You're used to guys always staring, but they tend to shyly look away upon making eye contact. 

Beomgyu is quite the opposite, staring you down every chance he gets. Your skin feels hot, and you're suddenly anxious under his gaze. 

When the group ahead of you has finished ordering and is heading off into their theater, you're sure to stick close to Jungkook as you approach the counter. Beomgyu eyes him over once before returning his gaze to you. "What can I get for you guys?"

Jungkook takes the liberty of ordering a large popcorn for the two of you to share and doesn't even get mad when you request a slushie instead of a fountain drink. He doesn't let you pay, swatting your hand away when you absentmindedly reach for your purse. "You seriously have to stop doing that." He mumbles, handing Beomgyu the cash.

Beomgyu quickly prepares the popcorn and Jungkook's drink but takes his time making your slushie. He's sure to fill it to the brim, and you're worried it may accidentally overflow and leave a sticky mess. "You didn't want candy or anything?" He questions, handing you your drink. 

You shrug, "Maybe Twizzlers, but—"

Before you can finish, Beomgyu is reaching under the counter and sliding you a pack of Twizzlers. "On me."

"Oh, are you sure?" You ask, hesitant to accept the free candy.

Beomgyu sends Jungkook a cocky smirk before he responds, "Yeah, enjoy the movie."

You thank Beomgyu and pretend to not notice the death glares the two boys are sending one another before walking with Jungkook to your theater. "That guy was weird." He comments.

"Yeah." You agree, but it's definitely not true. Beomgyu was friendly and clearly interested in you, unlike Jungkook, who sent you nonstop, draining mixed signals. If his definition of weird is someone straightforward, then you should start going after weirdos.

Once you're settled in your seats in the back of the theater — per Jungkook's request — he clears his throat and says, "So, I tried messaging you on Facebook. Didn't get anything back."

"Oh, sorry. I haven't been using Facebook that much." You reply, hoping your lame excuse is believable enough.

He nods, eyes bouncing between you and the movie trailers playing in the background. "Yeah, I figured." He says. When you don't respond, he continues, "I would've asked Somi for your number, but I didn't want her to get suspicious or anything."

"That's smart." You admit, nodding in agreement.

"Are you okay?" Jungkook asks suddenly, his full attention to you.

You finally make eye contact, and the expression on his face makes your heart sink. He looks genuinely concerned and confused by your sudden coldness. You hate being so mean to him, but you're too embarrassed to explain the real reason why you've been avoiding him. So you nod and say, "Just a little tired."

It's clear he doesn't believe this; the same expression is still on his face as he refocuses on the movie trailers. 

You hate how awkward it feels to be around him now. Never in a million years would you have guessed the two of you would end up like this. A week ago, you would've been overjoyed at the idea of being on a movie date with Jungkook, and now you're considering leaving early and catching a taxi home.

The two of you remain silent as the rest of the trailers play on, and Jungkook immediately sits up in his seat when the lights finally dim and the curtains are pulled back further. He's reticent throughout the movie, aside from a muffled chuckle occasionally; he even side-eyes anyone making too much noise.

You enjoy Twilight nonetheless, agreeing with Jungkook that you do, in fact, dress like Bella Swan from time to time. When he asks if you liked it as you're exiting the theater, you tell him it was very nice and that you hope there'll be another movie.

Jungkook smiles at this, tossing his empty cup in a nearby trash bin. "I'm sure there will be. Maybe they'll even cast you as Bella's stunt double since you already have the clothes."

"Shut up." You tease, and it feels nice to joke with him as usual. You may finally have the courage to tell Jungkook why you've been so distant these past few days.

Saw doesn't get out for another few minutes, so you're stuck waiting in the lobby for Somi and everyone else. Jungkook gestures towards the nearly empty slushie cup clutched in your hands, "You get free refills on that, I think."

You take his word, strolling over to the concession stand. Beomgyu spots you immediately and gestures for you to skip around the line. You shake your head, but he still beckons for you to come over. You feel bad, but the line has gotten longer since you were first here, and you really don't want to wait in a long line just for a refill. 

"What flavor?" He asks once you've slid him your cup.

You tell him anything is fine and he gets to work, combining the cherry and blue raspberry flavors. "How was the movie?"

"It was good. The vampire stuff was cool."

"Have you seen Saw yet? It just came out."

"No, I haven't."

"It's so good; if you wanna give me your number, maybe we can see it together sometime."

What is it with guys offering to take you out to a movie they've already seen? You're not complaining; it's just odd.

Beomgyu is clearly interested in you and has offered to take you out. You'd be silly to pass up on this guy just because your current relationship with your longtime crush is at a standstill. So you accept, scribbling your phone number down on a napkin with your name underneath. He promises to call you once his shift ends and that he looks forward to seeing you.

When you turn to meet up with Jungkook, he's gone. You catch him storming out of the theater, hauling ass to his car.

You run to catch up to him, calling out his name and begging him to slow down.

When he finally does stop, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. He gets angry all the time, but this was something completely different. "So you were just using me, huh?"

What? What is he talking about?

"Using you for what?"

"To lose your virginity. You just wanted to get it over with, right?" His voice is slightly hushed now but still loud enough for you to feel embarrassed about anyone passing through the parking lot.

"Jungkook, what are you talking about?"

"You used me to lose your virginity, so when you date other guys you can tell them you've had sex before. Is that what this is?"

This accusation hurts, considering that Jungkook was the only guy you've ever been interested in romantically and sexually. You don't know where this theory originated, but you don't like it.

Jungkook continues before you respond, "I tried reaching out and talking to you, and you just blew me off! And yet, here you are, giving your number to random guys! Am I not good enough for you?!"

"It's not like that, Jungkook!" You don't mean to raise your voice at him, but you can't help it. Both of your emotions were at an all-time high.

"Then what is it like?!"

Here goes nothing.

There are already tears forming as you go to explain yourself. "I didn't reach out to you because…because I was embarrassed."

"You were embarrassed to have sex with me?"

"No!" You yell in reassurance, "No, no, no. Of course not. I was embarrassed because I know you didn't finish. I just thought maybe I did something wrong or didn't do enough."

Jungkook quirks a brow at you, "What makes you think I didn't finish?"

You really hate that he's making you explain this. "I saw the condom afterwards; it was empty."

"You went digging in my trash can to find the condom?" Now he looks more disgusted than confused; this is going so horribly.

"No! I saw it when I went to get my phone off the charger."

Jungkook takes a minute to process everything, scratching his chin in deep thought. You can't tell what he's feeling, but he does look hurt. It makes you regret avoiding him in the first place.

"So, you were prepared to never talk to me again over an empty condom?" Despite his stern demeanor, he's clearly shaking as he questions you.

You want to say no, that it wasn't a case, but you can't bring yourself to lie to him again. So you say nothing. Jungkook nods at your lack of response before turning around and walking towards his car. You remain still, frozen in place, watching as he sits on the hood of his car and smokes a cigarette.

If it weren't for Somi finishing her movie within the next few minutes, you would've walked the entire way home.

This bitch is driving you crazy.

Your older sister, Imogen, is home for a few days to start her wedding preparations. The fake bridezilla persona she's putting on bothers you the most, bursting out in tears at the most inconvenient times or having a breakdown about selecting a theme. Deep down, she doesn't care about any of this bullshit; she's like you about parties or big events.

"This is literally the biggest day of my life, and you're being so fucking difficult." Imogen snarls at you, pouring herself a cup of coffee. You're sitting a few feet away on the kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window. Despite Imogen's occasional yelling and snarky comments, all you can think of is Jungkook.

It's been an entire week since the movie theater incident. You haven't stopped by the Jeon household not once, telling Somi you fell ill and don't want to get her sick. It's another lame excuse, but she buys it, opting to talk to you on the phone daily until you recover.

You have yet to speak to Jungkook; it's not like you've tried. The idea of messaging him on Facebook and not receiving a response makes you anxious. It's hard to believe you subjected him to the same torture not long ago. It doesn't help that Scarlett is suddenly all over his page, commenting on nearly every one of his posts, writing on his wall, or tagging him in pictures. Your recurring dream of curb-stomping her is back in full force.

You sigh at your sister, "Whatever you say, Imogen."

She waves dismissively at you, "Please, don't even talk to me right now."

You hop off the counter in annoyance and stomp off towards the staircase, mumbling, "Fucking drama queen."

"Language." Your mom warns you, flipping through one of the several bridal magazines your sister has stacked on the coffee table.

Imogen scoffs, setting her mug on the counter. "I'm the drama queen? Whenever I talk about my wedding, you throw a fucking fit!"

"Why are you pretending to care about this stupid wedding and that stupid boy you barely even know?!" You shout back from the staircase.

"If my wedding is so stupid, then don't come!"

"I don't even want to go to your stupid wedding, with your stupid fiancé and your stupid red velvet cake that no one's going to fucking eat!"

This is probably the dumbest fight you've ever had.

Imogen doesn't respond to this, advised by your mother not to and to let you stomp up the stairs in a furious rage. You make a beeline straight to your desktop, waking up the computer with a mouse shake and entering your password.

Facebook is already open once you've signed in, Jungkook's page staring right back at you. You're ashamed to admit you'd been cyberstalking him, but you had no choice. Seeing him in person would've been too much, but you still want to ensure he's doing okay.

There's a new post up when you refresh the page; you chew on your bottom lip as you anxiously wait for it to finish loading.

It's a picture of his dirty Chuck Taylor's perched upon a wooden stool. You recognize the background immediately; he's in the treehouse in his backyard. You and Somi would spend hours up there as kids, giving each other manicures and exchanging secrets; now, you can barely look her in the eye without bursting out in tears. You hate how complicated things have become.

A light tap against your door has you swiveling around in your chair. It's Imogen, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed. "Who's that?"

"Somi's brother." You respond, scrolling to a photo that actually shows his face.

Imogen steps further into your bedroom, squinting her eyes at the computer screen. "Oh, yeah. Hasn't changed much, has he?" When you remain silent, she asks, "Would it be wrong of me to assume he's the real reason why you're so upset?"

You sigh, letting your shoulders drop. "You'd be very correct, actually."

She nods in understanding, sitting on the edge of your bed. "So, what's going on? You like him?"

"We kind of like each other, I guess." You mumble. Honestly, you're not quite sure how Jungkook feels about you at the moment.

"And Somi doesn't approve of it?"

You snort, "Somi doesn't know. There was nothing to tell her at first, but things have changed."

"Are you guys dating?"

"No. We actually haven't talked in a week. I may have hurt his feelings."

Imogen nods towards your desktop, “Where is he now?”

You shrug, “Home, I guess.”

She stands, stretching out her limbs. She glances around your room, locates a jacket dangling lifelessly from your doorknob, and tosses it to you. “Let’s go.”

Taking an impromptu trip to the Jeon household had you sweating. What if Jungkook doesn’t even want to see you? What if Somi catches you talking and asks what’s going on?

Each concern you raise is instantly shot down by Imogen, claiming you’re creating excuses to avoid seeing him, how you’re only imagining the worst possible scenarios. You appreciate her overwhelming support but can’t help the nervousness creeping through your body as her car approaches the Jeon household.

“Remember, be apologetic but not desperate,” Imogen informs you, putting her car in park in front of the house.

“I am desperate.” You remind her.

“Well, don’t let him see it. You got this.”

You thank your sister one last time for the advice before stepping out of her car. You’re careful to avoid being seen from windows as you make your way into the backyard; not entirely sure what you’d say if Somi were to catch you.

You scale the tree quickly, silently praying the old wooden steps are stable enough to hold your weight. 

You sigh in relief once you’ve reached the top, only to groan at the sight of Scarlett sitting across from you. She looks up from her iPod with a bright smile, quickly pulling out her earbuds as you enter the treehouse. “Hey, stranger! Watcha doing here?”

Her enthusiasm really makes you sick. “Came to see Jungkook,” you pause to glance around the tiny, wooden deathtrap, “but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“He’ll be back soon; went to use the bathroom,” Scarlett informs you, running her hands through her hair. “So, you guys really like each other, huh?”

What? She knows about that?

“Jungkook told you?” You question, trying your best to appear unbothered. You’re unsure where she’s going with this, but you have no reason to trust her.

Scarlett nods, “We tell each other everything. So when he told me you guys weren’t talking, I may have devised a plan to help you come around. You do use Facebook, right?” She smirks

Holy shit, all the posts of them together were to make you feel jealous enough to have a conversation with him; and your sworn enemy was the mastermind behind it. It was all a ploy to get under your skin, and you fell right into the trap. 

“You’re a stubborn little thing, though. Didn’t think it’d take you so long.” She comments, slipping her jacket on.

You shrug, “I didn’t think he’d want to talk to me.”

“Jungkook always wants to talk to you. I don’t mind it, though. You seem good for him.”

Aside from Somi, Scarlett is probably the last person you would’ve expected to be supportive of your relationship with Jungkook. So, to hear she’d been secretly rooting for you behind the scenes nearly gives you whiplash. You almost feel wrong about your dreams of shoving her face into the pavement.

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “So, nothing is going on between you guys?”

Scarlett grimaces as if you deeply offended her, “Of course not! Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute, but not my type. His sister is cute, though.”

Woah.

“Somi? Jeon Somi? You’re into her?” You ask, completely stunned.

“Hell, yes. Hey, do you think you could set us up? Jungkook would never.”

“You do know that Somi can’t stand you, right?”

Scarlett excitedly nods, “I know, it’s kind of a turn-on.”

You hold your hands out to stop her from elaborating any further. Scarlett has surprised you in more ways than one in less than five minutes. You’re sure any new information would’ve made your head explode.

“I’ll…try my best.” You promise; not quite sure how Somi would feel about the idea of Scarlett liking her.

“For what?” A voice interrupts, causing you and Scarlett to direct your attention to the treehouse’s entrance. And there he is, in all his gothic glory. 

“Girl talk, none of your business,” Scarlett responds, making room for Jungkook to crawl in. 

“Fine. You keep your secrets; I’ll keep mine.” Jungkook groans, sitting between the two of you.

“Will do. I’m outta here. Got a hot date with a box of hair dye. See you suckers later.” Scarlett waves goodbye as she exits the treehouse, reminding you of your promise before disappearing down the steps.

Jungkook clears his throat, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "So—"

"I'm sorry," you cut him off, "I should've reached out and talked to you, but I was just too embarrassed and didn't know how to approach you about it. I really like you, and I wasn't using you to lose my virginity. I mean, you're the only person I've ever been interested in. So, again, I'm sorry."

He sighs, "I understand why you were embarrassed, but I promise it had nothing to do with you."

"Then what was it?"

Jungkook anxiously scratches the back of his head before he responds. "It's just that…sometimes…it takes me a little bit longer to, uh…to finish."

Oh.

"Is it because of your…size?" You can't help but wonder.

Jungkook snorts, "What, you think I'm big?"

"I'm out of here." You joke, faking as if you're about to leave.

"Wait, wait, wait." He stops you, "I was only kidding. I never really thought size played a factor in it, but every guy is different. But, still, that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy us having sex. I mean, you had already finished, and I didn't want to tire you out just for my sake."

Knowing he had a perfectly reasonable explanation makes you feel even worse about spending all that time avoiding him. You want to tell him you wouldn't mind him tiring you out, that the idea excites you, but you refrain.

A beat of silence passes, and you ask, "But, I'm sure if there's something that you're really into, then it wouldn't take as long for you to finish. Right?"

Jungkook nods, "I guess."

"Then, what is it? What are you into?"

He coughs, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. "Um…I guess I'm into…roughness?"

Ah. 

"That's not a big deal. A lot of people are probably into that."

"I mean, it's fine either way, but I mostly prefer when girls are kinda rough with me. Fuck, this is embarrassing."

"It's not!" You reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his knee, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me."

Jungkook stares at your hand on his knee before placing his own on top. You twist yours upwards and interlock your fingers, not missing the smile that forms on his face. His bangs have swept into his eyes again, and you use your free hand to move them out of the way. "It was my first time, too, by the way."

You snort, "You don't need to say that just to make me feel better."

"I'm serious," he continues, "I mean, I've gotten pretty handsy in the past, but nothing like what we did."

You shake your head, "I don't buy it. You seemed so experienced like you knew what you were doing."

Jungkook shrugs, "I mean, I'm not completely innocent. I may occasionally watch certain videos and read certain stories from time to time."

Porn and smut. Beautiful combination.

He shakes his head, "You still don't believe me; how come?"

You sigh, memories of the night before he left for college flashing in your mind. How you ran home in tears, how he only responded to Scar's comment on Somi's Facebook post. It almost hurts to think about. "The night before you left for school, there was an opened condom wrapper on your floor. I just figured…you know."

Jungkook nods at the memory. "I wasn't gonna go to the dorms the next day. I was planning on running away, that's why I gave you that bandana. After my parents helped bring my stuff to the dorms, I was gonna put everything in my car then take off."

You're having a hard time processing this information. Why would Jungkook plan on running away? What does this story have to do with the empty condom?

He continues, clutching your hand even tighter. "I only told a few people I was leaving, and there was this one girl who came over to say goodbye. She'd been really into me for a while and was heartbroken that I was leaving. We were about to hook up, hence the condom wrapper, but I couldn't do it."

"Why?" You question.

"Didn't feel right. I wasn't into her the same way she was into me. Just couldn't do it." He explains, eyes staring deep into yours. You believe him; you know he's being truthful.

"What made you decide to stay?" You ask.

"For Somi," he answers, "I couldn't just leave her like that. And for you, too."

Though you've felt it for many years, telling Jungkook you love him is too soon. But you want to, so very badly.

"I'm glad you decided to stay." Your voice is barely a whisper now as you try to stop yourself from tearing up.

He nods, "Me too."

You sit in comfortable silence for a minute, clutching each other's hands. You wish you could stay like this forever. 

"I just realized you never told me if there's anything you're into." He points out.

You shrug, "Just you." And it's true: Jungkook is the only person you've ever been interested in. Everything he says and does is genuinely attractive to you.

He drops your hand gently, using it to tilt your head towards him, and he kisses you. 

You're quick to cradle the back of his head as his hands snake around your waist, deepening the kiss. You move to straddle his lap, slowly pushing him onto his back. He grunts in surprise, breaking away from the kiss. "You—"

"Stop talking." You demand before your lips intertwine with his once again. With one hand on his chest, you reach to grab a fistful of his hair and tug lightly, earning a satisfied moan from him. You're not used to being rough with guys, but you're sure Jungkook enjoys it with the way his erection is already pressing up against your thigh.

Reluctantly, you pull away from him and sit up, staring at him sprawled underneath you in complete awe. "Alright, I'll message you my number so we can text. See you later."

"No! No, no, no. Please don't go." He pleads, holding you in place when you go to stand, "Just stay a little longer, please."

You smile down at him, fighting the urge to stay in the treehouse. "I can't. Imogen is waiting out front. We'll see each other soon, okay?" You promise, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Jungkook nods, fingers drumming against the floor as he watches you crawl out of the treehouse. "Don't be too surprised if I seem extra excited to see you next time." He calls after you.

"Trust me, I won't."

Jungkook is the first boy to ever sneak in through your bedroom window.

He carelessly tosses his backpack in first, cringing when it lands on your carpeted floor with a loud thud. Though you’ve assured him your parents are heavy sleepers, he’s still worried you’ll get in trouble if he makes too much noise and accidentally reveals himself. “Sorry,” he apologizes, wrist gripping your forearm as you help pull him in.

“It’s fine,” you whisper back, “they’re not gonna wake up.”

“Still,” he grunts, using his upper body strength to pull him further into your room. “Don’t want you getting in trouble.”

It’s a day after the treehouse incident; as promised, you sent Jungkook your number and spent all day texting back and forth. Despite not being big on texting, you admire how Jungkook likes to keep you updated on what he’s doing and how he checks up on you to ensure you’re okay. 

“We’ll be fine, but just in case, I did make room for you in my closet in case you have to hide.” You inform him.

Jungkook stifles a laugh, “Good to know.” He settles himself on the edge of your bed, moving over once he realizes he’d sat on a pile of clothing. “Oh, were you about to shower?”

“I was,” you answer, moving the clothing over to your nightstand, “but I’ll wait until after you leave.”

He has to stop himself from making a joke about joining you in the shower. He nods, leaning down to drag his backpack towards him, “Guess what I got today.”

“What?” You question, legs folded underneath you as you sit beside him.

Jungkook slowly unzips his backpack, careful not to make too much noise before rummaging through it and clutching something in his hand. He momentarily turns his back towards you, clips something to his shirt, then turns back around.

There’s a name tag on his chest now with his name scribbled in black ink and a little star next to it. “A job?”

He nods, “At that music store, Spin City. Need to start saving up before classes start. Plus, I wanna take you out somewhere nice before summer’s over.”

You gulp, “Like, a date?”

“Yeah. I mean, unless… I don’t know. I just kinda figured…” He trails off, suddenly worried he may be scaring you off.

You grab ahold of his hand, “I know, and trust me, you’re perfect, and I want us to be together. But, the night we saw you at that party, I did ask Somi if she would be upset if I was into you. Surprisingly, she said she wouldn’t mind as long as I talked to her before making a move on you. And, well…”

“We made a move on each other without telling her,” Jungkook finishes for you.

You nod, “Exactly.”

He sighs, “So, I’m guessing that means you wanna wait before we make things official.”

“Yeah. No matter what, I still want to be with you. But it’d be best for all of us to get her on board with this first. Show her how much we truly care for each other, and make sure she’s okay with it. So she knows my relationship with you won’t affect our friendship, and vice versa.” You explain. Jungkook’s eyes never stray from yours, listening intently and nodding at everything you say.

“That’s fair,” he agrees, “It’s a good idea. Do you want me to talk to her? Or for us to talk to her together?”

You shake your head, “She’ll definitely freak out on you; it’s best if I do it alone first, then you talk to her afterward.”

Jungkook leans back against your bed, resting his head on your pillow. It’s funny how different your aesthetics are; he looks perfectly out of place, sprawled on your baby pink pillow surrounded by teddy bears. “When?”

“I dunno,” you respond, lowering yourself until your head rests comfortably on his bicep. “Doesn’t have to be right away. As long as it’s before we move into the dorms.”

“We shouldn’t wait too long, though. It’ll only make things worse.” Jungkook mumbles, pulling you closer to him.

“I know. I’ll have a talk with her soon, I promise.”

You interlock pinkies to solidify your promise and ease his nerves. You hadn’t realized how anxiety-inducing this was for Jungkook as well. The idea of Somi not approving of your relationship had him genuinely worried. 

“But, you should know that no matter what—” he starts.

You cut him off, “I know.”

The hands that once purposely dumped slime in your hair are now tugging your panties down your legs.

“Can we try something?” Jungkook asks with a mumble against your lips, your soft blue underwear now clutched in the palm of his hand.

“Like what? I actually make you come for once?” You joke, earning a laugh from Jungkook.

“Don’t worry about me.” He presses another kiss against your lips, “You trust me?”

“Of course.” You respond, sitting up in Jungkook’s bed as he moves backward, never breaking eye contact with you. He pushes your skirt up slightly but pats your hand away when you go to remove it altogether.

“Leave it on.” He commands, bringing himself at face level with your cunt.

You’ve never felt this shy in your life, grateful your bunched-up skirt created the tiniest barrier between having Jungkook see you all flustered. Never had you been this intimate with a guy, especially not a guy you technically weren’t even dating.

His thumb is circling your clit before you have the time to protest, to tell him he doesn’t have to do this just for your sake, but the feeling of his fingers pressed against you has you at a loss for words. 

“This okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You respond, tilting your head upwards to stare at the ceiling.

Before you know it, his middle and index fingers are pressed against your opening, eliciting a gasp from your lips. At your reaction, Jungkook slips his finger into your entrance, thumb still playing with your clit. He insists on being teasingly slow today, wanting to draw out every moment and observe your reaction.  

He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slow, consistent motion, an amused smirk on his lips when he hears your breathing become ragged. Abruptly, he slips his fingers out of you, moving your thighs to rest them atop his shoulders. 

“Wait, you don’t have to—oh fuck.” You’re cut off by Jungkook pushing himself forward, placing a sudden kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting in the air. His hand grabs your waist and licks at your slit, keeping you in place as he gently returns your body to his mattress. 

His growing erection is the last of his worries, all too focused on dragging his tongue across your cunt. He flattens his tongue, pulling the wetness upward until he’s circling your clit again. In search of something to grab onto, your hands grip the bed sheets until Jungkook reaches forward, moving your hand over to grip his hair.

His eyes are closed when you look down at him, and you swear you can hear him moan as he eats you out. You try your best to keep the noise down out of fear someone will hear, but you can’t help but yell out when he’s back to fingering you, all while circling your clit with his tongue. 

Your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face further into your pussy, and he lets out a satisfied groan. It’s embarrassing how quickly your orgasm approaches; everything with Jungkook is so intense. He knows this, eyes fluttering open to watch your expressions. Black eyeshadow is smeared across his eyelids as his eyes focus on your own, hands gripping your thighs as he tongue circles your clit.

His fingers are relentlessly pumping into your cunt now, contrasting against how teasingly slow his tongue is moving. He pulls his mouth away, lips glistening with your arousal, and asks, “You close?”

You don’t respond directly, but the grip you have on his hair gives him all the answers he needs before he’s diving back in. It doesn’t take much for you to come after that, a final kiss pressed on your clit, sending you over the edge and coating Jungkook’s fingers.

Jungkook doesn’t stop there, still continuing to lick and suck your clit until you’re begging him to stop from the overstimulation.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “Was that good?”

“That was literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You respond. Jungkook lets out a laugh as he crawls up next to you. “I should be upset with you, though.”

“What?” He questions, peppering your face with kisses, “Why’s that?”

“I came over to talk to your sister about us, and you distracted me.”

“How’d I do that?”

“Because! You came downstairs in your eyeshadow. Then you were all like, ‘Oh, hey. I cleaned my room; wanna check it out?’” You mimic a deep voice that sounds nothing like his. 

“I apologize for putting on eyeshadow, bringing you to my room, and eating you out. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I guess.”

You both laugh at this as you move to pull your skirt down. “Hey, how’d you realize you like it when girls are rough with you?”

Jungkook shakes his head as the memory returns to him, a shy smile on his face as he glances over at you. “A couple years ago, I was picking on Somi for something. I don’t even remember why, but it got to the point where my parents were telling me to stop, and I wouldn’t. Then, you just started yelling at me out of nowhere, and I don’t know why, but it was the hottest thing ever. I was in awe. I really thought you were gonna slap me. Since then, it’s just been a turn-on of mine.”

“Wow. That’s actually kind of pathetic.” You tease.

He groans, “Please don’t say that. You’re gonna make me hard again.”

Laughter is shared between you once again before you lean your head down to rest on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat making you feel calm. A comfortable minute of silence passes before you have to address the unfortunate inevitable, “Somi should be here soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, “within the next ten minutes.”

You sigh, “Next time I come over, I’ll have to tell her about us.”

The next time you stop by the Jeon household, Jungkook has you bent over in the backseat of his car.

His finger digs into your waist as his cock is plunging into you at full force, emptying all the thoughts from your brain. You still haven’t fully adjusted to his size, but you don’t care; the pain of being split open makes you come faster. It feels better.

Jungkook insisted on taking things slow, telling you that you’d need to adjust to his size, but the moment you sunk your dripping cunt onto him, he was under your spell. 

Your body lunges forward with every rough stroke Jungkook gives you, hands buried in your hair as he pulls you up against his chest. His hand moves from your hair down to your neck, tilting your head back while applying the slightest bit of pressure against your throat. Your eyes close out of instinct as tears form in the corner of your eyes before trickling down your cheeks. He kisses them away one by one before settling his lips on your neck. You make a mental note to check yourself for hickeys afterward.

You’re coming around him before you realize it, body spasming as you grip the driver’s seat headrest. Jungkook shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; in fact, he’s sped up even faster since fucking you through your orgasm. He lets go of your neck to push down on your back, left hand gripping your waist while the right intertwines your fingers with his. 

A few strokes later, he’s finally coming and jokes about showing you the used condom as confirmation.

You shake your head, gesturing for him to pass you the shorts he’d tossed in the front seat. “I can’t believe I let you trick me again.”

“What?!” He exclaims in utter shock, reaching in the front seat to grab your discarded clothing, “How exactly did I trick you?”

“I came over to talk to Somi, but then you were all like, ‘Hey, come look at my car; I just got it washed.’” You playfully roll your eyes, searching around the backseat for your underwear.

“Can I keep these?��� He asks suddenly, the most nonchalant expression on his face as your panties dangle from his middle finger.

You scoff, reaching to snatch them from him, confused when he retracts his hand. “I think I will keep them until you talk to Somi. Since it was you who wanted to talk to her first.”

“Then, I guess I’ll get them back tomorrow because I’m definitely talking to her today.”

Except you don’t.

You spent the entire summer sneaking around with Jungkook and procrastinating about having that talk with Somi. It was anxiety-inducing, to say the least, and you had no idea how she’d react. You tell yourself she won’t be upset as long as you assure her your friendship won’t be affected by you dating her brother. 

You’re scheduled to move into the dorms within a few weeks, so it’s best to sort things out now before you all live under the same roof, unable to avoid one another. Jungkook doesn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, he’d given you a pep-talk the day before you showed up at their home.

“She can’t stay mad forever.” He pointed out, eyes sealed shut as you do his eyeliner.

“I know,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap, “but that girl can hold a grudge.”

“Right, but this is you we’re talking about. You mean a lot to her, to both of us, actually.”

His words play in your mind as you enter the Jeon household, following Somi into the kitchen. “Baking something?” You ask, a sweet, decadent scent hitting your nose.

“Brownies for some stupid bake sale my parents are having. Help me clean up?” She asks, pouting her lips at you.

“Sure.” You agree, under the assumption that there wouldn’t be much to even clean up. 

Boy, you were wrong. It’s like Somi used every dish in the house to make one sheet of brownies. There’s no backing out now; you already agreed to help, and it’d be best to stay on her good side for now.

She gets to work rinsing each dish before handing them to you to load the dishwasher, moving quickly to get everything done faster.

“What a beautiful friendship.” A familiar voice comments; you fight back a smile as Somi groans at her brother.

“You wouldn’t know; you don’t have any friends,” Somi responds, laughing at her words.

“Neither will you, soon,” Jungkook whispers back, groaning when you swat him in the chest. “Any brownie batter left?”

“None for you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Somi asks, handing you another dish.

Somi takes a break from rinsing off the dishes to bicker with Jungkook for a minute. You tune out from the conversation, dipping your fingers into the leftover batter bowl and gathering the chocolate on your fingers.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Jungkook says. When Somi finally directs her attention elsewhere, Jungkook takes the opportunity to grab your wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips before sucking the chocolate off them. 

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head, nervously glancing behind you to ensure Somi hadn’t seen anything. You swat at Jungkook’s chest for the second time, and he laughs as if you’re being overly dramatic. It’s odd how surprisingly calm he is about everything. His demeanor would have worried you if you didn’t trust him so much. 

Jungkook wipes the renaming bit of chocolate around his lips before mouthing ‘Good luck.’ You give him a nervous smile, watching as he slips past Somi and leaves out the front door. You get back to work, making small talk with Somi as you help her load the dishwasher.

It’s now or never.

“So,” you start, “we’re gonna be living together soon.”

Somi smiles, “Finally! God, I can’t wait to have some freedom. My stupid curfew is a major cock-block. Right when things are finally getting good on a date, I have to go back home. So fucking frustrating. There’s literally cobwebs in my vagina.”

You snort, loading the final dish into the washer. “Well, you won’t have that problem anymore.”

“I know. And maybe you’ll even find someone worthy even to date you.” Somi jokes, hopping on the kitchen counter.

“Uh, what if I already have found someone…worthy enough?” You question, pressing a few buttons to get the dishwasher going.

“As if.”

“Somi, I’m serious.”

She sighs, still not buying your confession. “Alright then, who is it?”

“...Your brother.”

A beat of silence passes, and then Somi doubles over in laughter, nearly slipping off the counter several times in seconds. It takes her a minute to catch her breath, clutching her collar for support as she regulates her breathing; even tears are forming in her eyes. “Holy fuck, can you imagine? You and my brother? Jesus Christ.”

“Look, there really isn’t an easy way to say this, but we really do like each other. We’ve been…together this whole summer. Well, not officially; I didn’t want to put a label on anything without talking to you about it first.” You finally confess. The weight on your shoulders doesn’t immediately drop as you expected; it’s like the load has gotten heavier.

Somi has a blank expression as she stares at you, eyes darting around the kitchen as she processes the information. “You’re serious?”

You nod.

She shakes her head, “What kind of friend are you?”

Fuck.

“Somi, please, let me—”

She cuts you off, hopping off the counter and inching towards you. “So, what? All this time, you were using me to get close to Jungkook? Out of every fucking guy on the planet?!”

“No! Of course not! Somi, I never even imagined myself in a relationship with him until this summer, I swear!” Your voice trembles as Somi approaches you. The two of you have never been in a physical fight before, but the expression on her face tells you there’s a first time for everything.

“Oh, really? You expect me to believe that, huh? So it’s just a coincidence that you guys suddenly got together right before we’re all gonna be living in the same building?”

“I know it doesn’t sound great, but—”

“I think you should go.” Somi cuts you off calmly, her sudden change in demeanor shocking you. A moment ago, she looked angry enough to hit you, but now, she seems a few seconds away from breaking down in tears. 

You nod understandably, telling Somi to take all the time she needs and to call you when she’s ready to talk. 

She doesn’t say a word as you exit her house, and you wonder if you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had. 

“I’ve never seen her this angry, Jungkook. I thought she was gonna hit me or something.” You groan, ear pressed up against your phone as you rant to Jungkook.

It’d been a few hours since you left Somi’s house; Jungkook had promised to call you during his break to hear how the conversation went. You’re still shaking as the memories flood you, how your best friend in the world accused you of using her. What a fucking joke. 

“She’ll get over it, trust me. Y’know, before I called you, she spent five minutes yelling at me over the phone. Five fucking minutes, and I just took it. She’ll be fine.” He says, following up with a loud slurping noise that suggests Jungkook has chosen to have ramen for lunch.

It’s astonishing how calm he’s managed to stay this entire time.

You flip over on the couch, head resting on the armrest as you stare at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna lose her. She’s a fireball, for sure, but she’s my fireball. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“I just told you you’re not gonna be without her, okay?”

“...Okay.”

There’s a knock at your front door, most likely from the pizza delivery Jungkook had sent to your house.

“I gotta go. The food is here. Are you still stopping by after your shift?”

“Of course. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” you stand, making your way to the front door. “I’ll save you some pizza.”

He chuckles at that, “You better. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

He what?

“You what?” You pause, hand on the doorknob.

“I love you, and I’ll see you later.” He hangs up.

You don’t have time to process his words; the knocking at your front door happens again.

Twisting the knob, you’re met with Somi staring back at you. “Somi? What’re you—”

“I don’t care if you date Jungkook.” She claims, storming through your front door, “If you guys want to be together, then I’m not standing in the way. But I will not be your friend if you date him, so it’s either him or me.”

You follow Somi into your living room, your pulse quickening upon hearing her ultimatum. “Somi, that’s not—”

“Before you choose…as a girl, and as your friend, I have to be completely honest with you.” She sighs, fingers nervously raking through her hair as she sits on your couch. “I called Jungkook after you left, and he talked to me about you guys.”

You nod, taking a seat next to her. “Okay, and…?”

She sighs again, taking your hand in her own. “Everything he’s ever told you was a lie.”

[yooniivrse]

early mornings | myg

summary. when time seems to bend every morning and love speaks through tender touches and quiet reassurances.

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pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, tooth-rotting fluff

word count: 1k

content: yoongi and oc wake up in each others arms / they love each other a bit too much and they make it pretty clear / they kiss a lot :3

warnings: fear of abandonment (kind of? if you squint??), allusions to sex

notes: idk why i'm procrastinating the third part of 'stumble into you' so bad, but this is a result of me still wanting to write something. also, ignore the images at the top if they don’t go well together, i’m too lazy to actually put in effort today 😭 likes, reblogs, comments, and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i love you guys and i hope you enjoy <33333

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Amber rays spill across the room, seeping between the gaps in the curtains and kissing your bare skin with its golden warmth.

Yoongi stirs under the sheets, attempting to untangle his limbs from you, who lay beside him. But your arms only tighten around him, and he quickly gives in to the comforts of your touch.

With your head on his chest and his arm secure under your head, he can't help the lazy smile that draws across his lips.

He's always loved early mornings with you; when neither of you have to think about anything else but each other; when time feels like it ceases to exist; when nothing else mattered, because why would it when you had each other?

You were his home; his universe; his first thought in the morning and the most frequent visitor of his dreams. Everything reminded him of you, and it was maddening. But he welcomed the longing with open arms, because he was a fool.

Because he knew that it was worth being foolish if it meant having you.

Yoongi places a kiss on your forehead, his lips pressing against a few strands of hair that lay messily across your face. The scent of your skin, faintly sweet like the lavender soap you use, lingers in the air as Yoongi buries his nose in your hair, taking in the quiet of the morning, broken only by the soft hum of your breathing. He moves his hand to rest over yours, running the pad of his thumb over your knuckles.

He doesn't expect the gentle action to wake you, but your eyes flutter open. You hum, the sound quiet and laced with exhaustion as you stretch out your body.

Your eyes light up when you meet his gaze and the butterflies in his stomach erupt, fluttering around wildly.

"Morning," you whisper. You peck his lips with a soft kiss.

"Morning," Yoongi echoes. A faint blush paints his features, and a giggle tumbles from your mouth. Yoongi catches the sound with another kiss; then a third one that lingers for a few seconds longer than the others.

It is almost embarrassing to admit the effect you had on him. You've been together for years, and known each other for even more. He knows every dip and curve of your body and you have seen him through all of his highs and lows. Yet, a kiss from you still has him blushing.

"Missed me?" you tease, and he hums in agreement.

"A lot." He kisses corner of your lips and the curve of your jaw. "You're so pretty."

You laugh; a soft sound that rings through the air. It has always been Yoongi's favourite melody-the one sound that made his heart swell and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons to accommodate his growing smile.

He tucks a few strands of your hair behind your ear, letting his hand stay to cup your cheek so that he can bring his lips to yours again. He’s addicted to the way your lips fit perfectly with his, and no matter how often he kisses you, it’s never enough

And you can't stop smiling.

The feeling that courses under your skin is almost overwhelming. It still feels surreal—that kind of love, where just being with him made the world right

The possibility of losing Yoongi terrifies you, but it's a fear that follows you everyday. Sometimes, you expect to wake up one day only to realise that this is all a cruel dream, or to find the house suddenly void of his belongings and his presence.

Sometimes, the fear creeps in before you can stop it, a quiet panic that gripped you in the space between sleep and waking. You’d reach out, half-afraid to find the bed cold and empty. But then, your hand would meet the warmth of his skin, and the fear dissolved into nothing. Because every morning, he's here. Solid, warm, and real, wrapped up in the sheets beside you. His sleepy eyes, the soft curve of his lips, the way he pulls you closer as if you’re his anchor—it’s all so undeniably Yoongi, and it makes your heart flutter with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.

You press your forehead to his, noses brushing, as if the closer you hold him, the more real this will become. Yoongi's fingers trail lightly over your skin, tracing invisible patterns that make you shiver.

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, voice raspy but tender, like he's always known your thoughts even before you speak them.

You let out a soft sigh, trying to find the words, but they dissolve on your tongue when his hand glides over your waist, settling at the small of your back.

“You’re here,” you whisper, more to yourself than him. It's a quiet confession of the relief that washes over you each time you wake up to find him still beside you. He smiles against your skin, a low hum of agreement in his throat. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, his voice carrying the weight of every unspoken assurance. "You know that I'll always be right here-right beside you, whenever you need me."

For a moment, the world falls away. There’s no fear of loss, no dread of waking up alone. It’s just him, his presence grounding you, his breath steady and warm against your neck. The intimacy of the moment swells between you, a shared heartbeat that drowns out the rest of the world.

Your legs tangle beneath the sheets as he pulls you even closer, his hand finding yours under the covers. His touch is gentle, tender, as if he’s memorizing every inch of you, and in the glow of the early morning, you feel more connected to him than ever.

You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his skin seep into yours, feeling utterly safe in his embrace.

And in that moment, you know—this is home.

[hoseoksluna]

TANGERINE | myg (m)

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff — comfort

rating: 18+

summary: yoongi has figured out a way how to make your life easier.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: brief sexual intercourse — controlled riding, anxiety, crying, feelings of fear, provider!yoongi, hoseoksluna's inner child trope, smoking habits as a form of coping.

luna's note: i wasn't planning to post anything as i was just trying to stay alive this week. i tried to write something, but the words felt weird, so i thought i was to abandon writing for the week. that is, until i saw a reel of a guy, a girl and a tangerine (not spoiling it for you). so i ran to my yoongi and allowed him to make me feel better. this took two days to write, and i hope you enjoy. i love you all with all my heart. thank you for all your comforting messages. i read them everyday. mwah. luna loves you so much.

𓂃 ౨ৎ

taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster, 

@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 

@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo

It was the color of the ripest, the sweetest tangerine that unfolded across the pendulous clouds, undulating around their soft, puffy bodies before it entered them, saturating them with its potent tint. You had just finished your cigarette on the darkened street outside of your home with your boyfriend by your side, who had dropped the last hour of his office work and came straight to you—simply because he sensed that you needed him. 

Yoongi knew by your curt, short sentences, which lacked your usual zest and life, that something was wrong. He didn’t suffocate you with useless questions about the evidence of your sadness like anyone in his place would, but instead got inside his car and sped down the road, still wearing his midnight blue military shirt and dress pants that never fit him right. You always thought that detail perfectly illustrated how he doesn’t belong there, how he shouldn’t, in fact, be there at all. 

But the office work does him good, thankfully. He gets the job done and gets to come home right after the fifth hour of the day—into the warmth between his music-strung walls. Sometimes, you wait for him there with dinner ready on the stove. Sometimes, he asks where you would rather spend your night, attuned to your moods and wishes like no one in your life is. They’re as important to him as the fact whether you’ve eaten at all, as you have the tendency to forget. Especially, when you sink inside the wooden cube of your sadness. 

He knows, intimately, the color of the wood that once used to be a tree. Spent time inside that stifling confinement with you on many, many occasions. But something about this occasion is different. 

It seems as though he’s no longer willing to dwell inside that unlit space with you. 

On his way to you, he had called your favorite restaurant and ordered you a big bowl of beef broth with hotteok on the side. It’s the reason why he didn’t come up to your apartment, but instead called you and told you to come down so that you would both wait for the food to be delivered and go back inside. You grabbed your winter jacket, with your pack of Marlboros and your white lighter in your pocket, and, slipping your feet inside your thick-soled, fluffy outside slippers, you went down to him as fast as your legs allowed you. Your muscles were weary, influenced by your mental exhaustion, and they appeared to have loosened upon the sight of him, leaned against the sleekness of his black car, still wearing his military uniform, made discreet by the largeness of his long puffer coat. 

At this point of your three-years long relationship, he doesn’t have to get out of his car, but he does—despite the fact you’d recognize his car even if your vision failed you. He does it out of his unfailing respect for you, and he had told you so, once upon a time. Guys that don’t get out of their cars for their girls are lazy and they don’t give a f—they don’t give a damn about them. 

He never liked to swear around you. Said your ears were too precious to hear something so indelicate. Your heart swelled with a wave of such premature love for him at that time. It had been just the beginning of your relationship when his honesty, which bore such colored words as these, worked into the flesh of your too wounded heart. You knew, right then and there, that he was the one for you—the one you dreamed about having, the one you searched for in your closest and in strangers alike. No one was like him and it cost you welts that he regards as birthmarks, pathways of stars on your body that he likes to kiss. Likes to take care of. Likes to caress.

Husband, he became to you. At the freshness of it all. 

His eyes were glossy as your feet took you to him. You wore your fuzzy, pastel-hued sleep pants with a few sizes too big sweatshirt of the same material that had the resiliency to protect you from winter’s cold alone. Your smoking sweatshirt, your sleep sweatshirt, too. Someone had comfort food or characters; you had a soft, teddy bear sweatshirt that you clung to. Yoongi didn’t reflect any surprise to see you dressed in this outfit. His mouth was lopsided in a firm line as he sprung from his car and swathed you in his arms, cradling your head in his hand, which he then pressed into the crook of his neck. The wind filtered through your unbrushed hair, tousled from your post-work lazing around, and his palm smoothed down those little hairs that have always managed to get on your last nerve. 

He kissed them, too. Tamed them, for the sake of your mental health. 

That hug and that gesture of his unknotted your sadness, giving them airways to breathe through. Naturally, while inhaling the briskness of the winter’s breath, you pulled away, and Yoongi knew what you needed next. He fished a pack of his Raisons and while you smiled at the little elongated, elegant cat drawn on it that resembled him more than anything, he nudged the butt of the cigarette between his lips, lighting it up for you before he placed it between yours, holding it as you took a drag. 

Your heart palpitated—as if he did it for the first time in this lifetime, but he didn’t. 

Acts of service was his love language and him lighting up a cigarette for you was one of the many ways he showed you how much he loved you. You never grew tired of it. Hell, you never got used to it. It invariably flooded your irises with a wetness of tenderness, no matter how many times a month he would do it for you. 

No one could ever love you like he loved you. 

The tangerine tinges cast a certain glow of homely familiarity as you quietly smoked your cigarette, sharing it with him every two puffs. And once he threw it out for you in the makeshift glass jar ashtray you stash in the thickness of the bushes lining the pathway to the apartment complex, the tinges darkened to the midnight blue of his shirt uniform and Yoongi took your hand and hid you away into the heated snugness of his car. 

There he began to talk. 

“Did something happen at work?” 

You could only nod. Could only scoff with hatred for the cursed building and let out an unnecessary remark that felt necessary for your heart, for your mental well-being. 

“Like always.” 

And at times like these, when you emerge from the difficulties of your workplace, he never opens the suggestion of you finding another job. Your family members and friends, they always fling it at you, not aware of the deeper difficulty that would come with your leaving. They don’t understand that you have to push through, but Yoongi does—because he has done so many, many times throughout the eleven years of his idol journey. 

You’re most thankful to him for it. 

“Why didn’t you call me on your lunch break?” he asks, taking your flaccid hand in his, warming it up with gentle squeezes on his lap. His eyes glide over the side of your face, softly demanding your response, and you blink at the sudden pressure. 

Something has changed. Something feels bigger than your vision is able to take in. 

“I—I forgot,” you say, truthfully, inhaling this severity of the shift, and you straighten your spine, prepare yourself for whatever it is. “I’m sorry. I blanked out and then I ate, and then I had to go back to work.” 

Yoongi sighs, lifting your hand to his lips. “I could’ve helped you.” He kisses your knuckles, made rough by the winter’s icy touch. “I could’ve done something that would prevent you from going home like this.” His lips pucker against your upper knuckles, and then he turns your hand and rests the side planes of his face against that little half-cocoon of your palm. “Is that not what I’m here for?” 

Guilt compresses your clavicles, traveling all the way up to your throat. As you thickly swallow, a lump forms inside that column, triggering your tears that haven’t had the chance to pour out just yet.

“I know you don’t like to talk about what happened. I respect you don’t want to relive it, I understand, but it’s my responsibility to help you,” he rasps, his tone so low and woody, mimicking the surface of your sadness and destroying it in the process, for it punctures you in your gut, buzzing your butterflies for him with vigor. “I’ve thought about this for a long time and I came to a conclusion while driving to you.” The same glossiness that you saw filling his eyes liquefies and the extent of it all breaks his voice as he continues to speak. “Do you see your future with me?” 

Something akin to a rock bashes against your heart and your stomach drops. 

The panic doesn’t settle in. Not just yet. Not until you verify that you understood the meaning of his words in the way he was trying to get them across. You need clarity before the principality of it can force your world, your life to collapse over your delicate head.

“Are you breaking up with me?” you ask, whispering—because if you use your full voice, it’ll break just like his, and you’ll break, too. 

Like the tangerine hue unfolded across the clouds, pain permeates his countenance in the same way. Wrinkles dig into his skin as his features pull in, twisting them while he comprehends your question. The breath he lets out is short, coated with a kind of heaviness that you know by heart, that you know is induced by the enemy that carries the name ‘anxiety’. 

And then his phone rings. 

Yoongi wipes off his tears, lifting his head from the premises of the warmth of your touch. Clears his throat. Presses the green button on the screen of his phone. 

“Yeoboseyo?” 

He nods his head as though the other person on the other side of the phone call could see him, hums, talks and apologizes while you stand at the edge of the earth, about to be flung out into the bottomless space by one singular, uninterrupted sentence directed towards you. 

That much power he has over you; that much he means to you. 

Yoongi ends the phone call without saying goodbye, a fatigued huff of air escaping the small hole of his mouth as he stares down the screen of his phone, contemplating something. You can’t think about what it is, you can’t pivot on your feet and run away from the cliff to help him. Not when this is a life or death situation and you can’t breathe. 

“My boss just cursed me off for leaving an hour early without excusing myself,” Yoongi explains without sparing you a glance, his eyes glued still to his phone that he soon rubs with both of his hands whilst he tries to compose himself. “I fu—I hate it here so much.” 

A stab to your gut. You relate to him, relate to him in such heavenly and beyond heavenly measures that the tears that flow out next are for him, too. But this can’t be the matter to flesh out, not right now. You murmur his name, painfully so, bring him back to the airy context of your relationship because you need to know if you still have him. 

Yoongi glances at you, at last. This thumb and forefinger are instantly drawn to your chin and he tilts your head to him, leaning over. He doesn’t kiss you on your lips. No, he kisses the glimmering traces of your tears upon your cheek, which are the only source of light upon this sphere. No sun, no moon in sight. Only your tears, only the remnants of it—the tears that are so very often internal, let out merely on the inside of your body. Never in front of him, never externally. 

His kiss is hard, demanding once again, but this time you don’t know what he’s seeking. 

“Don’t cry,” he purrs against your skin, against the shine of your tears—and because he didn’t ask about the reason behind them, you perceive what he’s truly demanding. 

Mending. 

Solace. 

Mollification. 

There, beyond those wishes, hides his regret. You feel it strongly, as if it were the veins that lined translucently your skin. He’s not the only one who’s attuned to your moods and wishes; you’re connected to him by an invisible string, which lets you in on the different hues of his heart, his emotions, his lacks and his wishes. It’s a team play that works, watering each other like that, and right now you need to overbrim with the essence of his intelligence, dominance and spoken word. 

You need the truth. 

“Are you leaving me?” you ask again, choosing alternative words with more softness, demanding his response with more power than he ever used. There’s no time to give substance to the reasons—perhaps they were already painted on the sunset you both watched together while sharing a cigarette. You simply need to be shown the roads of yes or no. 

Yoongi blinks in this proximity, his wispy eyelashes brushing against your cheeks, and he withdraws, piercing his gaze through yours in a certain pensiveness, pain and poignancy that makes this even worse. 

“I want to marry you.”

You gasp in a soft manner, which is an oxymoron to the firework that begins to pelt against your internal flesh. Your vision blurs in the speed of light, your liquid emotions pouring down and following the trails your past tears left behind without an ounce of care. Yoongi purrs as he witnesses it, his hand coming to pat down your unruly hair, giving heat to your cold fear, but the sound he makes isn’t of endearment. 

It’s one full of ache. 

“For the longest time I thought about how I could make your life easier,” he begins to explain, his thumb rooting at the apple of your cheek to collect all of your ceaseless tears. “I know you can’t quit your job right now just like I can’t quit mine so I had to think of other options.” He wipes the digit on the underside of your bottom lid, catching the blackness of your mascara. “And the only option is that I buy a house in the future, I marry you and I pay for your health insurance.” His mouth cracks into a half-smile that ripples beneath the blurriness of your vision. “You can be at home, focus on your hobbies. Maybe you can get an income from those, too. Whatever you’d like.” 

You can’t hold yourself back from hugging him, and Yoongi can’t hold himself back from manhandling you and placing you on his lap. He rubs your thighs, let your feet rest on your seat, and he goes the extra mile to take off your slippers to be even more comfortable while you cling to his neck. And the way you transform into a little girl taken care of is the ultimate ointment to your stress-induced sadness. Its airways burst into smithereens, dispersing off and away from your system, and you begin to breathe in the aroma of his car and his personal scent as a girl forever changed, forever provided for. 

He kisses your forehead, cradling your jawline. “That’s why I asked you if you see your future with me. I want to do that for you. I want to set you free from your stress and take care of you because I can.” 

You whimper against the column of his neck, your fingers sinking into the length of his hair at the nape. “Of course I see my future with you. I can’t see myself with anyone else, Yoongi. I love you; you’re too important to me.” 

The purr he emits next is different, covered with an overflowing fountain of love and pleasure for you from your words, and the sound penetrates your mind, untwisting all of those bad thoughts and pushing them away. “I love you, too. You want to marry me, baby?” 

He pulls his lips away from your forehead to look down at you, that glossiness once again overwhelming his eyes, and you nod. “I do.” 

And with those words, you perhaps did tie the knot somewhere in the spiritual realm. 

Yoongi pecks your nose. “Are you gonna let me take care of you?” 

You hesitate, shy all of a sudden, thoughts of how it’s not right, how you don’t deserve it, how it makes you less of a woman than you are resurfacing in your mind—and it is as though Yoongi can read them because he smooths out the wrinkles on your forehead with his thumb, fighting them. 

“It’s your decision, think about it,” he says, softly, sweeping the belly of that digit down the slope of your nose. “And in the meantime when it gets bad again at work, I want you to remember it. Use it to distract your mind from the stress, even if you end up declining my offer in the long run. Nothing changes, I’ll still marry you, baby.” 

The thoughts, once again, wither in the overgrown bushes of your mind, and calmness like a tide washes over your folded body on his lap. You nod, tucking that reminder into your heart to remember later in the future, and you rest your head against his chest, his heartbeat the accompaniment to your ultimate peacefulness. 

Yoongi reposes with you for just a minute. He, then, begins to rummage through his glove box and only stumbles across a small tangerine that nearly gets lost in the width of his palm. He peels it for you while you watch—and once he’s done, he takes the ring finger of your left hand and holds the body of the fruit at the long tip of your nail. 

“I, Min Yoongi, promise to take care of you until the day I die,” he proclaims and slides the tangerine down the length of your slender finger until it sits at the base like a true promise ring. 

You hiccup, overloaded with another onrush of tears, and you scramble up to kiss him. And you do—you give him so many kisses until his lips are puffy and until your moment is again interrupted by another phone call. And it’s not his boss, who’s calling him this time around. It’s the food delivery guy, with your hot beef broth and hotteok in his bag, and together you step out of the car with carmine-wash cheeks. 

Inside your apartment, Yoongi watches you eat. Sitting on the sofa beside you with his elbows propped on his knees, his blush deepens with each spoonful of soup you take to your mouth. And when you begin to share your soup with him just like you shared your cigarette with him, Yoongi is so smitten, so endeared that he can’t let out a full sentence without stuttering, without messing up so bad that he hides his face in his hands, his gummy smile prominent and lighting up the living room. 

And then you’re in bed, but the love making isn’t as quick and lust-dripping like it traditionally is. Everything about the snap of his hips into your core is slow, yet meaningful as if he was fucking his promise into you. You’re supposed to be riding him, being on top like that, however Yoongi isn’t letting you. He’s fleshing out his promise of being the provider by having your wrists in a tight grip behind your back while he pounds your future into you with hard, yet controlled thrusts that empty your brain out of every little left-over fragments of your negative thoughts and emotions. His breathing is ragged as he works so hard, breaking a sweat as he changes your life, holding you upwards by your neck, maintaining an authoritative and vigorous eye contact that throws you over the edge. 

But it’s not the edge you feared so much. 

The bottomless space is a sea of his love he’s dipped inside of, ready to catch you with his arms stretched out in your direction—and he does. Together you swim in the afterglow of your orgasms, swim out into the openness of your shared future with you as a stress-free little girl and Yoongi as the provider. 

Yoongi breaks your wooden cube as he feeds you the half-moons of the tangerine he used as a promise ring and you chew them while half-asleep on his chest—because, truth be told, you don’t need it anymore. You have his promise to envelop you from the inside, to keep you safe and to keep you feeling comforted, even when he’s away in the office and even when he’s travelling around the globe, singing for the world and for your tender heart. 

You’re his wife and he’s your husband—and the bitter spirit of life can’t touch it. 

You’re protected, and you’re taken care of. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[melancholy-of-nadia]

infatuation (m) | myg

title: infatuation pairing: yoongi x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; agust d universe (AgustDverse based in Haegeum) ; gang leader / mafia AU summary:  Living with fragmented and blurry memories has lead you to live under the roof of Bangkok's biggest secret crime boss, Agust D, as his bodyguard. Though, being confined to the mansion most of the time has made you feel isolated, craving freedom and answers. When he decides to take you out to dinner for the first time, the atmosphere is charged with tension and suspicion. You're not the only one who's patience is wearing thin, however, instead, it's discovering this man's infatuation with you that will lead you to change your mind. warnings:  weapon mention (katana), reader has minor amnesia, back and forth arguing, murder mention, deep fish imagery/analogy, haegeum!suga mention, dominant haegeum! agust d, making out, penthouse s*x, f*ngering, cl*t stimulation, orgasm denial, choking, power imbalance, bl*w job, bre*st play, spiting, deep throating, pet names, agust d praises you by calling you "good girl", unprotected s*x, lowkey breeding k*nk, choking, possessiveness, multiple orgasms, uh i think that's it!... yandere? haegeum!agust d maybe note: it's been a year since i uploaded my first fic in this universe i call the AgustDverse. Also the first fic that got me into writing bts fics! I've been requested to continue this universe by my dear friend @daegudrama. I don't know if it'll ever become an actual cohesive series, but if you guys like it, let me know! also this is veerrrryyyyy much unedited im sorry i will edit later word count: 6.0k drop date: August 6th, 2024 7:30pm PST mood playlist | ao3 link – –

You never thought you'd find yourself in this situation—nestled within the mansion walls of a mafia boss masquerading as a police detective. 

Known as Agust D. 

How did you get here? It's a question that continuously echoes through your mind like a constant drumbeat. 

It’s not an easy question to answer. It’s actually pretty complicated. Time travel? A quantum jump? You don’t know whatever scientific phenomenon this is. 

But for your own sanity, you decided not to dwell too much on it, especially when the present demands your full attention.

Agust has let you live here under the guise of acting as his bodyguard, which is perhaps the strangest thing you've ever done. You had no prior guarding experience, but the katana sword that hangs by your side now tells otherwise. This item is a constant reminder of your supposed purpose here: to protect the mansion, to protect Agust D. But deep down, you know there's more to this arrangement than meets the eye.

Tonight, however, is different. Agust D, the enigmatic master of this mansion, has extended an invitation—an invitation to dine at an upscale Chinese restaurant. It's a rare opportunity to step beyond the confines of these walls, to breathe in the outside world, if only for a fleeting moment.

As you stand before the full-length mirror in your room, you can't help but feel a surge of apprehension. The maids have stated that Agust D insisted you wear a black satin dress he selected for the occasion—a garment that feels foreign against your skin, yet somehow fitting for the night. You’re too used to wearing a collared white button-up and a plaid skirt for most of the time while you’re at the mansion. You don’t know how long you’d been wearing that, but definitely longer than a young girl who’s in prep school.

Adjusting the delicate fabric, you take in your reflection, the unfamiliarity of the attire almost unnerving. 

A knock at the door interrupts your contemplation, and without waiting for a response, Agust D enters, his presence commanding the room. Dressed in a tailored black suit that exudes power and authority, he regards you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"You look stunning," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you ready to go?"

With a half nod, you follow him down the stairs and out of the mansion, the cool night air wrapping around you like a shroud of secrecy. Then you hop into the black sports car, which Yoongi decides to drive this time instead of his chauffeur.

The journey to the restaurant is silent, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of the piano music playing, which came from connecting Agust D’s phone to the car’s aux.

He really does love Ryuichi Sakamoto’s music, you comment internally to yourself.

When you arrive at the restaurant, you're met with the grandeur of an upscale Chinese eatery perched on the top floor of a hotel building. The space is a harmonious blend of modern elegance and traditional opulence. As you step inside, the ambient chatter of elite people and the soft clinking of cutlery fill the air, creating a lively yet refined atmosphere that contrasts sharply with the muted silence of the mansion.

The restaurant’s interior is a feast for the senses. Rich, dark wood paneling lines the walls, accented by gold and red details that evoke a sense of luxury. Elegant lanterns hang from the ceiling, their warm, golden light casting a gentle glow across the room. The tables are adorned with crisp white linens, polished silverware, and delicate porcelain dishes, each piece carefully chosen to complement the sophisticated ambiance.

The scent of Chinese cuisine mingles with the faint aroma of incense, creating an inviting and tantalizing atmosphere. The restaurant's design features intricate latticework and traditional Chinese artwork, adding a touch of cultural authenticity to the modern setting. Plush, comfortable chairs surround each table, offering a sense of intimacy and relaxation.

As the restaurant host takes note of Agust D standing beside you, there’s a brief moment of panic in his eyes. He quickly ushers you both to a secluded corner of the establishment, a private nook separated from the rest of the dining area by elegant silk drapes. This area, though separated, still enjoys a view of the city skyline through large, floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a breathtaking panorama of the illuminated city below. 

You are seated across from Agust, but there’s still a subtle awkward atmosphere surrounding the both of you when he orders and after the food arrives. 

For a moment, the clinking of silverware against porcelain fills the silence before Agust D finally speaks.

"Do you still not remember anything?" 

You hesitate, uncertainty flickering in the depths of your eyes about how to respond to him. "Bits and pieces," you admit, your gaze lingering on the dimly lit surroundings. "But nothing concrete. It's like trying to grasp at shadows."

His expression remains impassive, but you catch a fleeting glimpse of something else—something akin to regret, perhaps, or even longing. "It will come back to you," he says, his tone softer than before. "With time."

You only nod, going back to eating one of the xiaolongbao at the center of the table.

The air between you and Agust D grows heavier once again with unspoken words. You don’t like the silence. As someone who is very self-aware of their self, you feel compelled to break the silence to not be stuck in your head. 

"Agust D," you begin tentatively, the name feeling foreign on your tongue yet strangely familiar. You don’t refer to him by name often, as you opt for ‘sir’ or the occasional ‘Hyungnim’. "Why did you bring me here tonight? You never do this sort of thing…"

He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Well, you've been cooped up in that mansion for so long," he replies cryptically, his gaze piercing through the facade you've carefully constructed. “Thought it would be good to treat you for your work.”

"But why now?" you press, unable to suppress the curiosity gnawing at your insides. "And wearing this?" You refer to the short piece of black fabric covering you.

Agust D's lips quirk up in a wry smile, though there's no warmth in it. "Maybe I wanted to see how you'd be like out… not on duty," he muses, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or perhaps I simply wanted company for the evening."

Company, huh? From the outside, it looks like you’re on a date. You wouldn’t doubt the restaurant staff is already gossiping from behind the curtains partitioning you from the rest of the world.

You can't help but feel a sense of unease at his words, a nagging suspicion that there's more to his motives than meets the eye. "Is that really all?" you press, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or is there something else you're not telling me?"

For a moment, Agust D's mask slips, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the facade of indifference. "There's always more to say," he murmurs, his gaze turning distant as if lost in memories you can't access. "But some things are better left unsaid."

What does he even mean by that? You feel like every time you speak even a bit casually to this man, you only end up more confused and maybe even a bit more scared.

"Agust D," you venture cautiously, "...are you still looking for Suga?"

At the mention of the name, a shadow passes over Agust D's features, his expression hardening into a mask of resolve. "Suga," he repeats, the name dripping with bitterness and contempt. "Of course I’m looking for him. That man is nothing but trouble. I need to get rid of him."

You can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man whose name hangs between you like a specter, a reminder of the past you can't quite grasp. "But why? Why do you hate him so much?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Agust D's eyes darken with a mix of anger and regret, a storm raging beneath the surface. "He’s got my face and that in itself is a danger to all of us," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "He could also be the answer to everything I've lost, but it’s better if that answer is never revealed."

The words hang heavy in the air from a confession laden with pain. And as you gaze into the depths of Agust D's eyes, you realize that beneath the cold exterior lies a man haunted by his past—a man who, like you, is searching for answers, but afraid to confront them. You want to pry into what he means, but you’re scared that he may act aggressively. So instead you change the topic.

"Don’t you know his whereabouts though?" you inquire softly, your voice laced with concern.

Agust D's gaze meets yours. "I do," he confirms, his voice low and measured. "He’s in Chinatown. Living in an apartment at the end of Weng Nakorn Kasem. But I can’t act on impulse. I’m too heavily involved in the Asia Pacific Police Union, and that already involves too many variables, too many unknowns."

A sense of foreboding settles over you as you listen to his words, the weight of his burdens pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "What do you mean?" you press, your voice barely a whisper.

Agust D sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I can't move against him yet," he admits, his tone laced with resignation. "Not until I know how many people are on my side. There are spies within the organization. If I act too quickly, I could end up getting myself killed…"

The gravity of his words hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the fragile truce that exists between you. And yet, despite the dangers that lurk in the darkness, you can't help but feel a flicker of hope. If you help him in capturing Suga, then maybe you’ll be able to piece your own puzzle together.

But would that even be a good idea?

"Agust D," you say softly, smiling gently at him, "you know you don't have to face this alone. Whatever happens, I'll stand by your side. Not like I have much of a choice anyway." Your words trail off at the end. He doesn’t comment on it though.

For a moment, there's a vulnerability in Agust D's gaze, a fleeting glimpse of the man beneath the mask. He reaches out to take your hand, his expression softening ever so slightly at your words. "Thanks," he murmurs, his voice a whisper in the dimly lit restaurant.

“It’s my job after all.”

––––––

After finishing dinner, the two of you begin to walk out of the restaurant, entering a long hallway that leads to large red sliding doors that exit.  Your eyes drift toward the grand wall aquarium positioned near the exit, its towering glass panels reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lights.

The aquarium is a masterpiece of design, housing a diverse array of aquatic life within its transparent confines. Colorful coral reefs sway gently in the water, their vibrant hues casting mesmerizing patterns of light and shadow across the sandy substrate below.

But amidst the bustling underwater ecosystem, your gaze fixates on a lone goldfish, its sleek form gliding gracefully through the water. Its vibrant orange scales shimmer in the ambient light, a stark contrast to the subdued colors of its surroundings.

A pang of concern tugs at your heart as you watch the solitary fish navigate its artificial habitat. Don't goldfish typically reside in tranquil ponds, surrounded by the soothing sounds of nature? Is it even safe for them to be confined within the confines of this glass enclosure?

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Agust D's departure until you feel a gentle tug on your arm. Startled, you turn to find him regarding you with a curious expression, his gaze flickering between you and the aquarium.

"What's on your mind?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tear your gaze away from the mesmerizing display before you, your thoughts still lingering on the lone koi fish. "I was just...thinking about that fish," you admit, gesturing toward the aquarium.

“The goldfish?”

“Mhm,” As you stand there, watching the solitary koi fish swim about, a wistful sigh escapes your lips. "I wish I were a fish sometimes," you murmur.

As funny as your sentence sounds, you thought the older man would laugh at you for making a comment like that. However, Agust D's gaze flickers at you, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. 

"Why's that?" he asks, his voice soft with intrigue.

You pause, contemplating your answer as you watch the graceful movements of the fish. "Uh, well they seem so free," you explain, your voice tinged with longing. “They get to go wherever they want. move through life with such ease in the water, not burdened by the weight of the world.”

As you continue to watch the fish, a sense of yearning wells up within you—a desire to shed the constraints of your human existence. "Sometimes," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, "I wish I could trade places with that fish just so I could be able to live freely, to live without my own burdens."

Agust D nods in understanding, a silent reassurance amid your musings. "But you know, even fish have their own struggles. I mean, look at it, it���s trapped in this Chinese restaurant’s aquarium as entertainment for guests, fighting to survive in a place it doesn’t belong,”

Sigh.

He’s right. But you hate the fact that he’s right.

“That still doesn’t change what I said. Plus, I don't want to be that fish.” you interject, your voice laced with a hint of sadness. "Slowly destroyed by its surroundings… not belonging there."

Agust D's brow furrows in contemplation, his gaze returning to the small goldfish. "So what are you trying to say?" 

"I don't want to feel like that," you admit. "Trapped in a world that doesn't feel like home, constantly struggling to find where I belong!"

And you hate it because that is exactly how you’ve been feeling right now. You’re living with a man several years older than you, who is probably the most dangerous man in Thailand, maybe even all of Asia. And you have no idea why you stuck here with him, but where could you really go? Where are you actually from? Where is home?

Agust D's expression hardens slightly, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Life isn't always about feeling at home," he counters. "Sometimes it's about surviving where you are and making the best of it."

No! He doesn’t get it.

You feel a flicker of irritation at his words, your emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. "That's easy for you to say," you retort, tone sharp. "You're not the one who's been confined to that mansion, to these guarding duties, waiting for memories to come back."

His eyes narrow slightly, a spark of challenge igniting in them. "You think I don't have my own battles?" he snaps back. "I'm out there every day, dealing with threats you can't even imagine."

"At least you have control over these things. You have the entirety of this city wrapped around your finger," you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. "At least you know who you are and what you're fighting for!”

The tension between you two shifts. Agust D steps closer, his presence looming, but you refuse to back down, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve.

Inside, you're a storm of emotions—anger, confusion, and a touch of desperation. How can he be so dense and unreadable, yet so annoyingly calm? It's like talking to a brick wall sometimes. Every word you say seems to bounce off him while his expression remaining infuriatingly stoic. You want to scream, to make him understand just how much this is tearing you apart, but he stands there, unmoved, as if your turmoil is nothing more than a slight breeze in his world.

“Agust, you–”

"Fuck…you're so hot when you're upset, doll," he murmurs, interrupting you with a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can react, he grabs your arm, pulling you toward the exit.

Huh?

"Hey!" you protest, your frustration mingling with a surge of adrenaline. But Agust D doesn't relent, his grip firm as he guides you out of the restaurant and into the elevator.

As the elevator doors slide shut, sealing you both inside the confined space, the tension between you reaches a boiling point. "What are you doing?" you demand, your voice a mix of anger and confusion.

Instead of answering, Agust D pushes you against the wall, his lips crashing down on yours with a fierce intensity. Your initial resistance melts away as the kiss deepens, the heat between you igniting into a blazing inferno powered by unknown frustrations beneath the surface.

You pull back just enough to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you glare at him. "You can't just—" you start, but he silences you with another kiss, his hands roaming possessively over your body.

"I can and I will," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. "Because right now, all I can think about is you."

Your frustration mingles with a heady mix of desire, the lines between anger and passion blurring as you give in to the moment. As the elevator ascends, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you.

When the elevator dings softly, signaling its arrival on your floor, you find yourselves in a private hallway in the hotel building, the opulent surroundings a stark contrast to the intensity of your kiss. Agust D pulls back, his eyes dark with desire and determination.

"We're not done talking," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a thrill through you. "But right now, I need you."

Your eyes are left wide open, feeling hormones coursing through you.

This can’t be happening. Is this all a dream? Yes, this has to be. And what’s with the scenario? Are you that sexually frustrated? You admit you’ve never done this sort of thing and have only spent your free time reading erotica for entertainment. 

But to dream about fucking the very man keeping you captive within his mansion and living as a bodyguard. There has got to be something wrong with you. Maybe you’re experiencing Stockholm syndrome? But you’ve not once felt emotionally attached to this man.

Though there have been times you’ve looked at him and thought about how beautiful he looked.

Shit.

Maybe you’ll go along with this. Everything else be damned, for now.

“Show me then,” You word out, which only fires him up more.

Agust D’s grip on your arm is firm but not painful as he leads you down the luxurious hallway to a penthouse suite, the plush carpet muffling your footsteps. Your thoughts are a chaotic jumble, torn between the logical part of your brain screaming at you to stop and the primal part urging you to give in.

As soon as the door to a suite clicks shut behind you, he’s on you again, pushed against a wall, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. You respond in kind, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Every touch, every kiss feels electric, igniting a fire within you that you didn’t know existed.

In the back of your mind, you know this is wrong. You know you should be resisting, should be fighting against the pull he has on you. But right now, in this moment, all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your skin, the way his lips move against yours, the way his presence consumes you.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his breath hot against your lips. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, showcasing his possessive nature. “I refuse to let you go.”

His hands start to inch up under your dress until he reaches your core and starts flicking at your clit. You gasp, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. He watches your reaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers, his voice low and teasing. “To feel me, to know that you’re mine?”

You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response. All you can do is nod, your body arching toward his touch, craving more.

“Good,” he says, his fingers moving with a deft precision that has you teetering on the edge. “Because I’m not stopping until you know that you belong to me.”

He continues his ministrations, his touch driving you wild with need. The logical part of your brain has long since surrendered, leaving only the raw, primal desire that burns within you.

His fingers slide below your black lace underwear until he inserts them inside you with a sly grin. You can't help but moan at the invasion, your body trembling with anticipation. He moves them in and out, hitting just the right spot, causing you to writhe beneath him.

"This is what you get," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "For. every. time. you. talked. back. to. me. today." He growls, punctuating every word with a thrust inside your pussy.

“F-Fuck A-Agust!” And holy shit does it feel so good.

As lust starts to fog your mind and the air fills with moans, you don't know what's happening to you. But you don't care. The fire inside you is burning brighter by the second, and you can't get enough of the man who's taken control of your body and mind at this moment

Yoongi places his thumb on your nub and plays with it, squishing it in circular motions, then using his finger to rub it a little faster then slowing down only to fasten the pace again. You felt a very familiar feeling boiling up in your lower belly threatening to unleash itself.

“I’m not gonna let you reach your high yet.” 

Suddenly, he removes all his fingers from you and you whimper immediately, the absence of his touch leaving you desperate for more.

Yoongi bites down against his lips, eyes quickly traveling from your face and down your body, “Huh…W-Wait..P-Please…” You pant heavily, trying to rub your thighs together to pick back up the pace that was headed toward your release

“I thought you wanted to leave me, doll?” He leans in closer, chuckling in your face, and you shake your head. At this moment, you realize that he’s hard under his dress pants. “Are you sure? I don’t give orgasms to people that won’t obey me.”

“I-I’ll prove it to you!” You drop to your knees quickly, placing your hands on both of his sides. “Oh? And how will you do that?” He gives you a curious look, already knowing what to expect from your sudden submissive behavior. While he spoke, you unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pulling it down along with his boxers to reveal his cock.

“Oh fuck…” You let out in the smallest whisper. He wasn’t long per se, but more than average. But the girth… holy shit. Will it even fit in any of your holes? And the way his precum is already pearling on his tip just from what you two did earlier? You swallow nervously, but you’re not one to back away from a challenge. “Like this.” 

You hold his cock gently from the base, proceeding to gather spit from your mouth and letting it drop on it. You proceed to move your hand, spreading his precum and your saliva on his dick, managing to get a good slide and starting to move your hand quicker. You looked up innocently, already noticing a flicker of Agust’s facade fade as he felt himself slipping away in pleasure. In his mind, he was tempted to say fuck it all and let himself fuck against your hand, but he knew better than just to let himself become an animal. After the prep, you part your mouth and slowly take him in, the stretch already starting to hurt your jaw from his wide size. In the meantime, you just suck around his head and use your hand to deliver pleasure to the rest of his shaft, earning deep-sounding curses and moans while your tongue swirled around him. 

His eyes are glued to you, watching you work his cock with your kitten-like licks. Though, this isn’t enough for him. He wants to thrust up down your throat so bad and fuck you until your voice was sore. He wants to see how much you’re willing to take in that small mouth of yours.

And that’s exactly what he does. He places his hand on your head, giving you small pats and rubs disguised as encouragement for your efforts. Then his hand starts inching towards the back of your head until he suddenly grabs a handful of your hair and forcibly pushes his dick further until your smacked against his pelvis.

“Seems like you still need practice. Don’t worry, I’ll train you,” he murmurs, his grip tightening on your hair as he begins to thrust into your mouth. The tip hits the back of your throat and you gag reflexively, but he doesn't let up, pushing deeper with each thrust. Your eyes start to water, now holding onto his sides for dear life, but you force yourself to take it, willing your throat to open up and accommodate his girth. His palm comes up to your cheek to rub your cheek, feeling himself on the other side enter in and out of you.

He grunts with each deep thrust, his hips pistoning in and out of your mouth as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm. You feel like you're choking, but you don't want to disappoint him and prevent you from reaching your orgasm after. However, it doesn’t take long for him to come undone, swallowing saliva and cum down your throat. He removes himself and you begin to cough erratically. You have never deep-throated before, so it’s a miracle you didn’t throw up or die from this. It’s definitely not as easy as porn makes it seem. You’ve been lied to by the media! “Haah… Holy shit…” You groan, trying to catch your breath and stabilize your heart rate.

“You alright?” He questions, voice tinged with slight worry as he fixes his pants and underwear back up and leans down towards your face. “I lost myself for a bit…”

“It’s okay–” You pause, shocked for a moment to hear your voice sound hoarse. Despite that, Agust chuckles, using his palm once again to rub against your cheek to comfort you, smiling softly. “Good girl. Now you’ll get your reward.” With this, he guides you to the master bedroom, his grip on your arms firm yet careful, leading you through the opulent suite. The room is a testament to luxury, with rich, dark wood furniture that you knew Agust requested in the hotels he invests in and soft, ambient lighting that casts a warm glow over everything. The large windows offer a stunning view of the Bangkok city skyline, but your focus is solely on him.

He pushes you gently onto the king-sized bed, the plush mattress sinking beneath your weight. The silk sheets feel cool against your skin, starkly contrasting the heat building between you. Agust D stands over you, his eyes dark with desire, a predator savoring his prey.

He slowly removes his jacket, his movements deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch, your breath hitching as he unbuttons his suit vest, followed by his shirt, revealing his semi-muscular and beefy figure beneath. You’ve never seen him like this before, as he’s a very reserved man when it comes to his body. But each inch of exposed skin sends a fresh wave of anticipation through you.

“You’ve been so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Now, let me take care of you.”

He climbs onto the bed, sitting between your legs where his hands start trailing up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher. His touch is electrifying, each caress igniting a fire in your core. He leans down, his lips ghosting over your skin, leaving a trail of burning kisses from your collarbone to your ear.

His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need.

“Good,” he says, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Because once I start, I won’t be able to get enough of you.”

His hands are everywhere, exploring, teasing, and driving you to the brink of madness. He slips the dress off your shoulders, letting it fall away completely, leaving your body exposed and vulnerable beneath him. His eyes rake over your body, a dark hunger in his gaze.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “My doll.”

He lowers himself, his mouth finding your breast, sucking and nibbling until you’re arching into him, your fingers tangled in his slick black hair. He trails kisses down your stomach, his hands gripping your hips as he positions himself between your legs.

You gasp as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. “Ready for your reward?” he asks, his voice a seductive whisper.

“Mm..” You only make a sound and nod due to the lust clouding your mind. How do you say words? Do words matter?

He pinches your clit slightly which makes you jump and arc your body a little.

“Words, doll.”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to finally speak out, your body wiggling around close to his face eager for him to move. 

He doesn’t hesitate after your verbal consent, his tongue flicking out to taste you from your clit down to your entrance, drawing a cry of pleasure from your lips. He works you expertly, starting with his tongue sucking against your clit, then eating you out in your entrance. 

And holy fuck does he have you wrapped around his finger with these ministrations. You had heard rumors of him being good at oral sex from the women at the events you would accompany him to, but fuck, the actual thing doesn’t compare to their mere descriptions.

His tongue soon returns to nibble and suck at your aching bud, with his fingers replacing his place inside you. And before you know it, you’re lost in the sensation again, body jerking as every nerve ending is set aflame as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

And Agust D knows it, smirking against your pussy as he feels you tighten against his fingers. “Come for me,” he growls against your skin, his voice a command that you can’t resist.

With a final, shuddering gasp, you fall apart, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. He holds you through it, his hands and mouth coaxing every last bit of ecstasy from your body until you’re left trembling and spent beneath him.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watches you recover. “Such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with pride. “But we’re not done.” 

He stands up and swiftly pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his cock, red and eager. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, your mind racing.

Oh? Is he going to put it in?!

“Huh? W-Wait you–”

Before you can finish speaking, he puts your legs on his shoulder and aligns himself to your entrance, his eyes locking with yours. The heat and intensity of his gaze make your heart race.

“You’re on birth control, correct?”

“Yes…”

You’d be surprised that he knows this fact, but he does look over your medical records after all. You’d also question the ethics of this, but not now.

“Then we can go all out,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “And I’ll show you that you’re truly mine.”

He pushes into you, his cock stretching and filling you completely.

“F-Fuck!” You gasp, the sensation is overwhelming, fueled with pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless. He pauses movements for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

Your eyes close as you try to focus on relaxing your body.

“Look at me,” he commands suddenly, his voice low and firm as he holds your chin. “I want to see your face when I take you.”

“Y-Yes, sir!” You meet his gaze, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. There’s a primal hunger in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine.

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to keep up with the intensity of his pace. The feeling of him inside you is overwhelming and does not compare to his or your own fingers pleasuring you.

“Do you feel that?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper. “Do you feel how your pussy is being molded by my cock?”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling. “I feel it!”

“Good,” he says, his thrusts becoming faster, more intense. “Because you won’t ever be able to be pleased by another cock as long as I live,”

His movements are relentless, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the slap of skin against skin, and the ragged gasps and moans that escape your lips. 

As your eyes meet his, he suddenly wraps his hand around your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. His grip is firm but not painful, sending a rush of adrenaline and arousal coursing through your veins.

“Doll, you like being choked while I fuck you? Having you wrapped around my fingers now.”

“F-Feels so mmh good!” You mumble, your breath hitching as his grip tightens slightly, the sensation heightening the pleasure coursing through your body.

You never thought you’d be so turned on by choking. You don’t know if it’s you getting high off the lack of oxygen and feeling pleasure, or giving up your life’s control to this man before you that has your toes curling.

The pleasure builds up to an unbearable peak once more, but this time, you know that he is feeling the same thing too. His thrusts become harder, more forceful, each one sending shockwaves through your body. His hand on your neck adds an edge to the sensation od dominance and possessiveness that leaves you breathless.

“Come for me, doll,” he growls, his voice a command that you can’t ignore. “I want to feel you come around me as I do at the same time.”

With a final, shuddering cry, your orgasm crashes down, your body convulsing in pleasure. He follows you soon after, his grip on your hips tightening as he spills into you, his own release mingling with yours. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless, clinging to each other as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and satisfied as he looks down at you with a smile that exposes his gums. He lays down next to you and pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a tender, possessive kiss. 

“You’re mine,” he whispers against your lips, the words a promise and a declaration.

“You’re mine,” he repeats. “I’ll never let you leave.”

At that moment, as you lie there in his arms, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you don’t want him to. The world outside may be complicated and uncertain, but here, with him, everything feels right.

This is your home.

All you want is for this man to be infatuated with you for the rest of your life.

This is how things should be. Right?

–

– tbc?

✨ let me know ur thoughts! how are you feeling?! ✉️

[urf1lterr]

moonlight | m.yg [1]

next chapter: soon

summary: when it’s finally the week of your big sister's wedding, you’re more than excited for it to be over as responsibilities come flying your way. however, you can’t seem to stop thinking about a particular groomsman with blonde hair.

pairing: groomsman!yoongi x bridesmaid!y/n

genre: wedding!au, strangers to lovers au | awkward, fluff, angst, mature

word count: 7.4k

status: in progress

author’s note: reposting this bc i miss him. i’ve been wanting to do this for sooooo long but never had time- still don’t but oops.

Sleep is what you really needed right now, especially when you already lacked it in your daily life. But no, that wasn’t really an option right now, not when you had to wait for your sister to pick you up from the airport and get dinner afterwards. 

Realistically, you could’ve slept on the plane ride here, but you hated the seat you were in. At first, you sat in the aisle seat because it was always the fastest way to exit afterwards, but you had to give that up when a man probably in his late 50s basically ordered you to move to the middle because older people need "more" room. 

You weren’t happy, but you weren’t about to argue because of this.

All you wanted to do right now was go to your old bedroom and change into some comfy sweats and an oversized t-shirt before pulling your blankets over your head to sleep in peace. You knew it was not going to happen any time soon, but a girl can wish. 

As you finally saw your suitcases at the baggage claim area, you grabbed one, almost falling by how large and heavy it was. You cursed at yourself for overpacking, but you were staying in town for two weeks and could not risk the chance of not having enough clothes. Luckily, your other suitcase was fairly smaller.

Walking to the other side of the terminal, you saw the exit to the pick up area, immediately moving your legs faster because you couldn’t wait to get out of here. There were too many people walking slow, it surprised you how calm you’ve lasted.

Once you reached a bench in front of the area, you noticed that the weather was not that great. It was raining, which you loved- but your sister planned most of her events outside so this is probably going to make her cry for hours.

And you really don't wanna be the shoulder she cries on- she is very dramatic when she sobs.

Pulling out your phone, you noticed you received three texts. One from your sister, mom, and boss. 

[mom] 5:57pm: were you able to land safely? don’t look tired and try not to be introverted, namjoon’s mother is joining us for dinner. put on some makeup, love you!

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. You weren’t surprised in the slightest, you knew how your mother was. She didn’t mean any harm, but she loves to impress others. By looking a bit tidy, she thinks people wouldn’t think lowly of us. However, she fails to understand that we’ve known your future brother-in-law’s family for almost six years now, you don’t believe they will call off the wedding by seeing their future daughter-in-law’s little sister bare faced. 

Plus, his mother is the sweetest. If anything, she always told you how much she loved seeing natural faces compared to the overdose of products people nowadays use in which she refers to “tiktok trends.” 

[jae] 6:01pm: the office is going to miss you! tell ur sister congrats again, and then do it again for me once she’s actually married lol. don’t you dare ask if there’s work for you to do it in the next two weeks! 

Laughing to yourself, you quickly replied with a small “thank you, i will tell her,” along with a “darn, now i cant use work as an excuse to get out of wedding duties. but if there is work needed to be done just text me.”

[violet] 6:13pm: almost there!! look out for a black suv. hope u don’t need to go home, kinda planning to go straight to dinner bc our reservation is at 7 and joonie doesn’t want to be late! he’s scared they’ll judge us, see you soon &lt;3

Of course he would think that, coming from the man who thinks texting and walking is rude- it's debatable!

That’s when you looked at the time, noticing that it was exactly 6:20pm. There was still time to make it by 7, you were sure of it.

As you were about to reply to your mom and sister, you heard the sound of tires screeching with constant honks. You looked up, noticing a very expensive-looking suv pulled near the curb, still beeping.

Was this your sister? I mean, it was black like she stated it would be.

Your question was finally answered when you noticed the passenger window being rolled down, revealing two young looking men with bright smiles eagerly waving, the driver still beeping with his other hand causing many people around to glare as they walked by.

You noticed the man with very shaggy hair, wearing what seems to be a white t-shirt, black slacks, and sneakers as he opened the door. “What’s up, y/n,” he smiled, making his way towards you.

“Taehyung? What are you doing here? I thought Violet was going to pick me up- is she in the backseat?” You questioned as he automatically went to grab your bags. “And what is this moron doing here? I thought he got his license taken away last month?”

Looking back to the SUV, you saw your cousin in the driver’s seat with what seems to be him fighting off a man with a bright yellow and green vest knocking violently on his window side. 

“You cannot park here, you’re holding up traffic!” the man yelled, causing your cousin to roll his eyes before rolling down the window maybe two inches before yelling back.

“You’re the one holding up traffic standing in the middle of the road!”

“Don’t make me call security! Park in the parking lot!” The man dragged on, hitting the side of the car repeatedly and motioning his arms to drive away at the same time. 

"Aren't you security?!" Your cousin honked before glaring at the man. “And you scratch my car, you pay for it!”

You stopped watching their little altercation as Taehyung began rolling your suitcases towards the trunk of the car, making you follow along. “She wasn’t able to come, apparently she had to go pick up some materials she ordered for the centerpieces,” he stated, setting the bags inside before closing the trunk. “And I am not sure why he is driving, I think everybody forgot he shouldn’t be and I am too lazy to do it, I was not able to take my nap today because Namjoon made me paint the photo booth all morning- it was exhausting.” 

Opening the passenger door for you, you quickly jumped in as he shut it before jumping into the seat behind you. Turning to your left, you could still see your cousin arguing with the man before Taehyung told him to drive already.

“No! I hope you have a shitty day, you asshole!” Your cousin screamed before speeding away down the street. After literally two seconds, he looked your way while smiling brightly. “I missed you!”

Giving him a dirty glance, you slap his arm. “Ow! What was that for?” He whined, rubbing his arm with his free hand.

“Jungkook, why the fuck are you driving?” you declared. “You’re not allowed”

“Says who,” he rolled his eyes.

“The state,” Taehyung says from the backseat.

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head. “They can’t do anything, I pay my taxes.”

Groaning, you rub your forehead. “This has nothing to do with your taxes, you imbecile.”

He gives you a confused look for a quick moment before moving his eyes back on the road again. “You don’t need to use big words to attack me, y/n. This isn’t law school.”

You heard Taehyung sighing at how annoying his friend was being. To clear things up, Taehyung was actually a close friend of your side of the family through Jungkook, the two of them being inseparable since kindergarten. 

You just so happened to know him well since he always followed Jungkook everywhere he went, same vice versa, as you saw your cousin basically everyday due to only being one year apart and both your mom’s being sisters. But with Taehyung, you happened to be the same age, same with their other friend in their trilogy, Jimin. In which you were surprised he wasn’t here because Jimin loved going to dinner with them. 

“Why are you driving?”

“I got my license back,” he smiled, nodding heavily when he saw the questionable facial expression you were making. “I swear! I went to the DMV and everything. I got it back after paying like $3,000.”

Choking on your saliva after hearing how much he had to pay, you gasped, “Why so much? What exactly did you do?!”

Jungkook awkwardly moved both his hands on the steering wheel, obviously not wanting to answer your question as you heard his friend chuckling in the backseat. “Yeah, tell her Jungkook, what did you do?”

Throwing a small box of tissues he had left near the middle cup holder to Taehyung, Jungkook began his excuse. “I’m not really sure, apparently it’s illegal to drive through rain puddles,” he shrugged.

You shifted your head a bit, “that’s not illegal.”

“It is when you purposely speed through them to get people wet,” Taehyung giggled as Jungkook groaned in annoyance.

“Dude! You weren’t supposed to tell her that part!” Jungkook whined.

“That is so rude,” you pinched his arm as he tried moving away from you, knowing your first reaction to things were mostly violence. “How would you like it if someone did that to you?”

“I actually wouldn’t mind it,” he stated. “Saves me money from going to a waterpark.”

Sometimes, you wondered what goes on in that big head of your cousin. Not much common sense, that’s for sure.

“Anywho,” you spoke up, trying to change the dumb conversation you just had. “What’s the plan for tonight? I heard something about a dinner, but other than that I have idea what’s going on. No one told me anything.”

Jungkook shrugged, glancing at you a few times as he answered your question. “I know we have dinner with some of Namjoon’s friends, his mom, your parents, and then you sister’s friends. But afterwards, no clue.”

“Why are you and Taehyung going then?” 

He scoffed, looking offended. “I’ll have you know, we are very much indeed Namjoon’s friends,” he proudly said before giving in once he saw how that did nothing. Maybe acquaintances but definitely not friends. “All the groomsmen were invited.”

Ah yes, you almost forgot Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin were appointed groomsmen which was a big shock considering they were not close to Namjoon like that. 

But to be completely honest, your sister did have six bridesmaids while Namjoon only had three real groomsmen he wanted. So, she was able to convince Namjoon to allow the other three to take apart on their special day because they were basically like family.

And because he had no one else to call.

Although, it didn’t take much convincing, Namjoon did love the guys and they all bonded really well whenever they did interact.

“So, Jimin’s going?”

“He should be,” you heard Taehyung answer. “He couldn’t come with us to pick you up because he had to drop his little brother off at baseball practice- but I think their mom is going to pick him up once he’s done.”

You nodded, understanding the situation. To be honest, you were happy the three of them were going. It’s not like you wouldn’t know anyone tonight, maybe only a couple people, but the rest of your family never knew how to make you feel comfortable the same way the boys did.

Maybe its because you basically grew up with them and how you were all close in age, but you felt more open and less forced to act a certain way when they were by your side. 

Throughout the car ride, you had to constantly bicker with Jungkook about slowing down and to avoid potholes as it kept getting in the way of you applying concealer and powder from your seat. You especially yelled when he almost made you smash your mascara wand in your eye, causing Taehyung to hide his laughter as he scrolled through twitter. 

Finally, after small loads of traffic and listening to Jungkook’s ‘go crazy, go stupid’ playlist in which consisted of old Taylor Swift and Hannah Montana songs, you made it to the restaurant. The problem was, the rain was hectic. You’re surprised Jungkook didn’t crash into a pole trying to see through his windshield wipers.

Once you parked, Jungkook sheepishly smiled. “Okay so we have a small problem- nothing serious,” he stated as you gave him a look for him to continue. “We don’t have an umbrella.”

“What-” you and Taehyung said at the same time. “I can’t show up in there all wet, it’s pouring outside!”

“-and I can’t risk getting my shirt wet, I didn’t bring a sweatshirt and I am wearing a white top- my chest will be see through if it gets wet!” Taehyung cried out. “I don’t want people violating me.”

“Calm down, drama queens,” Your cousin rolled his eyes. “Y/n, cover your face with your arms to protect your makeup- that’s the only thing you should save. Taehyung, wrap your arms over your chest, don’t you dare lift them until we are sheltered. We got this guys!”

You scoffed as he cheered you both on. At least you all will be drenched together, you thought. 

Getting ready to jump out of the car, you looked down at your outfit. You were wearing an oversized dark brown crewneck sweater, black thick leggings, and your white platform sneakers. At least you were kind of warm and didn’t have much to damage from the rain. 

Looking back at how far the restaurant was from your parking spot, you three basically had to run the side of the building to get to the front. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it was regularly raining- but as it was lashing down with some now background sounds of thunder and lightening, you knew this was going to be a bad idea. 

Jungkook gave you two a confident nod before aiming towards his door as Taehyung and you gave each other a worried look, eventually doing the same. “On the count of 3!” Jungkook yelled from his side. 

Once we were all ready, hands on the door handle, you heard Taehyung start, “1-”

“-3!” Jungkook screamed and ran out the door, hearing the door lock as he ran his distance. 

Taehyung and you looked at each other in shock before chasing after him. As you took more and more steps, you could tell that this rainstorm was probably one of the worst you have ever encountered.

But to be fair, you should have checked the forecast and remembered to bring your own umbrella. 

After what seemed like minutes, the three of you finally made it to the front of the building in which you were blessed with a roof for your protection. At this moment, you have never been happier. 

Moving your eyes to the two boys standing near you, you noticed how even though Tae’s hair was swamped, he managed to barely get his chest wet. Jungkook’s hair began curling up on the sides, but only that and his shoulders were fairly drenched. 

You tried straightening out your sweater while looking up at Taehyung. “Do I look alright?”

“Yeah, you totally don’t look like you just ran through the rain.” he nodded, even though you could feel your hair soaked. 

“Your makeup still looks intact,” Jungkook added, “but your hair- eh.”

You glared at him as he lifted his hands up in defense. He shouldn’t be talking, his hair was soaked too.

Trying to make yourselves look presentable, you didn’t notice someone rushing near you three, only when you felt a pair of arms wrapping behind you, causing you to squeal.

Moving your head to see the owner of the arms, you immediately hugged them back. “Jimin!”

“Y/n!” he giggled, but suddenly pulled away. “Ew, you’re drenched.” Nodding towards Jungkook, he quickly understood what happened. “Why didn’t you just tell me you guys were here? Jungkook, I texted you that I had an umbrella if you needed one.”

Taehyung and you turned to glare at Jungkook as he turned red and stammered, "I’m sorry, I-I didn’t see the message!”

"Hold on, man. Didn't you just dropped off your brother? It's pouring," Taehyung.

Jimin shrugged, "Do you think the MLB teams stop their games over some rain."

"In some cases, yes."

“Y/n! You’re here!” you heard that familiar voice squeal behind you, followed by a pair of arms once again hugging you. “I would totally not touch you, but I haven’t seen you in three months!”

Smiling, you held your annoying sister until you heard a cough. You let go to see your parents standing near her, your mom pushing her to the side, making your sister almost fall to the ground, before wrapping her arms around you. “Y/n! How was your flight? You never replied to my text, young lady,” she crossed her arms. Oh, how you love when your mother’s mood changes constantly.

She suddenly touched your face lightly, “Your face looks lovely! You’re hair though- uh its alright! The rain is our excuse!” she beamed.

Same old mother, but at least you knew she did not want you to take things seriously. 

You felt your dad lightly wrap an arm around you, giving you a short greeting, probably not wanting to hold up our reservation as well but not because he didn’t want to be rude, he wanted to eat already. 

Noticing no one else was outside, you sister began speaking. “Namjoon, his friends, and mom are inside sitting at the table already. I told them not to wait up on us so we don’t cause much of a disturbance inside.”

Nodding, she then began guiding everyone inside with your parents following directly behind her while Jimin, Tae, and Jungkook walked right along with you. It was a short walk inside, but you noticed that the table must have been all the way in the back, maybe in another room by how far in you all were going.

Being right, you could see that they reserved a private room which was extremely crazy- this must’ve been so expensive for a casual dinner! 

The first person you noticed was your future brother-in-law sitting at the middle of the wide circular table, a seat empty right beside him for your sister you assumed. You identified his mother pretty clearly as she sat on the other side of him.

Your parents quickly sat on the seats right next to where your sister just sat. You moved your eyes to see most of the bridesmaids, who you knew for the longest as they all either went to school or worked with her, sitting right near you parents and across from them. 

There was only one seat next to the last bridesmaid that was opened, so you assumed it was for you as it was across from your sister’s seat. Looking at the boys, you frowned, realizing you would be separated as they only had empty seats on the other side of the table where Namjoon’s mom sat. At least you could look at them from across the table.

Jimin fake pouted before they all walked to the available seats. You finally noticed the three other boys sitting beside them, only recognizing one of them, Hoseok. You were happy to be seated right next to him as you two have met many times in the past, but you couldn’t help but wonder who the other two were and why you weren’t introduced to them earlier. 

Hoseok was actually a close friend of both Namjoon and your sister, in fact, he was the one who introduced them many years ago. He was probably one of the few close male friends your sister even had who she trusted with all her heart who didn’t want to sleep with her.

You also befriended him as he was the only one who wouldn’t complain but encouraged you to hang out with them during their high school days when your sister pulled the ‘hormonal teenager who hates everybody’ phase.

“Nice to see you, y/n. Thanks for coming, I know you must be exhausted from your flight, but it means a lot that you were able to make it,” Namjoon kindly greeted you, in which you smiled in return.

“It’s okay,” you shyly reply, feeling your nerves kick in because you suck at public speaking, even when it’s with people you’ve already met. 

“Now she’s shy,” you heard your cousin stifle in a low laugh before Jimin kicked his leg, in which he groaned in pain, trying not to make any noise as he clutched his knee. 

As you gave Jungkook a dirty look, you began turning, quickly taking a look at the guests you didn’t know. One seemed to look slightly tall, or you assumed he was by how long his torso was. He was very good looking, just not your type.

But the other one was already looking at you, his eyes quickly moving away when he realized he was caught, not seeming to care though. He had very beautiful eyes and bright blonde hair, but he looked very intimidating with his blank- almost cold expression. 

“You look dashing, y/n!” You heard Namjoon’s mom exclaim, making you turn extremely red. God, you hated when people gave you compliments, especially when others were around. You did not like the attention it brought.

“Thank you” you looked down, trying your best to make your face cool down. You wish you were in the rain right now.

“I take full responsibility for her hair not looking the best,” Jungkook spoke up, making you immediately cover your face with your hands, praying he stop talking. “I forgot the umbrella.”

You heard him groan again, maybe from one of the boys kicking him for his irrelevant comments.

“I know the struggle,” You heard one of the unknown guests Namjoon had, the one who looked tall, begin. “I tripped while trying to walk in and landed on a puddle.” This caused you to giggle, happy that he was willing to embarrass himself to deflect the attention off you. “But it’s alright, luckily I had extra pants in my car.”

“Now that you mentioned that uh- fascinating information,” Namjoon awkwardly started. “Y/n, I realized you never met my other groomsmen-”

“Groomsmen? How dare you” You heard the same friend fake gasp, causing Hoseok to groan right beside you. “I am the one and only best man” 

“So, that’s Jin,” Hoseok finally spoke up, rolling his eyes at his friend who you realized probably loved the attention more than you actually knew.

“Oh, hi” you shyly waved as he gave you a cheesy smile. 

“Sorry about him, he’s a little over the top,” Namjoon sweetly mentioned to you, causing Jin to scoff. “-but in a good way!”

Just by observing their attitude towards each other, you can tell Jin was the friend who made Namjoon be more confident and open-minded enough to try new things. He seemed like the hype man of the group.

“And that’s Yoongi,” Hoseok added, pointing to the man on the left of him, the one who looked like he did not want to talk to anybody. You began to realize this Yoongi guy was more reserved than the rest, giving you a small nod as you awkwardly looked away.

“Sorry about him, he seems quiet- but he does talk! Quite a lot actually,” Jin added, causing Yoongi to nudge him. 

“Same with this one,” Violet giggled, looking your way causing you to glare at her. Way to put the spotlight on you. 

Luckily for you, your mother just knew so many topics to talk about that she carried a conversation fairly quickly right after your sister’s comment. 

You would have listened to it all the way, but to be honest, you were mentally exhausted. Work had you up till 10pm last night and with it being such a jammed pack month already, you completely forgot to pack until this morning. Having to check in two bags, you had to arrive at the airport three hours early to make it in time to depart from all the long lines. 

You don’t think anyone beside your dad and Namjoon’s mom were listening to your mom because as you looked around the table, you realized people were either making faces at their friends or just looking anywhere else but the speaker. 

That’s when you noticed Taehyung making a silly face your way, causing you to smile at him. But when you did so, you saw from the corner of your eye the restrained individual placing his eyes on you that didn’t leave until he was about to be caught again.

Yeah, you wished this dinner would be over soon.

-

"That was probably one of the best steaks I have ever digested," Namjoon smiled while wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Did he just say 'digested'?" you heard one of your sister's friend, Mina you believe, whisper to her other friend, Hani, who just shrugged.

After about an hour of awkward conversations that consisted of when Violet and Namjoon would be making babies and who would take custody if they both randomly die, dinner was finally over.

To be honest, you were glad that you were mostly not chosen to speak. That was until your mother thought it would be a brilliant idea to bring up your personality compared to your sisters, in which she made sure to mention the one time in 4th grade when you threw a tantrum and bursted into tears because you didn't want her to leave you alone on the first day of school.

Violet made sure to clarify how immature you were as a fourth grader, in which you thought if it would really be bad punching her in the face right then and there. You were sure makeup could cover the bruises.

"I should probably get going, I think your father is getting off soon from work," you heard Namjoon's mom say, slowly standing up before giving her son a warm hug.

Following the signs, everyone began standing up, getting ready to say their goodbyes. That was until your sister suddenly spoke up, becoming an announcer.

"Wait I forgot to mention, tomorrow is day 1 out of 7!" she cheered as her fiancee placed an arm on her lower back. "Don't forget to bring your shoes!"

"What's tomorrow?" You thought, but apparently out loud as everyone glanced your way, causing you to look back at Violet.

"You don't know?!" she gasped, looking back towards your mom. "Did you not tell her?" Watching as your mother softly gave her a small smile, your sister's eyes made their way back to you in disbelief. "It's our first dance rehearsal."

"Dance rehearsal?" You squinted your eyes, not believing how in the world she planned to make people learn a dance in under a week. "You do understand your wedding is in 6 days right after tomorrow, right?"

"We couldn't plan practices earlier because you and Jin don't live near here and we didn't want you both going out of your way to get here for it," Namjoon commented. "That would've been too expensive."

Realization hit you, you have to dance...in front of people.

Looking up, you tried showing a relaxed expression, but you're sure you only pulled out an uncomfortable one at the thought of having to publicly dance when you are in fact the worse dancer ever.

Truth be told, you wish you can easily agree and go with the flow, but knowing yourself the best you know you cannot pull this off. There is a reason why you dropped dance class in high school and it was because you kept making your partner's toes bleed from stepping on them so much.

But before you could speak up, or as if you were going to, your sister beat you to it. "You're doing it, no exceptions," she pointed a finger at you.

"You can be my partner!" Jimin exclaimed, wrapping an arm over your shoulder, trying to cheer you up. "I'm a great dancer."

"I beg to differ," Taehyung crossed his arms. "Have you seen these hips? Been shaking them since I was eight years-old."

"Just Dance doesn't count," Jimin hissed, making Tae scoff.

"It does when you're undefeated!"

Before the two of them could continue their bickering, your sister intervened. "None of you are dancing with her, I've already assigned partners," and right when they were going to ask who she added, "and you're not finding out until tomorrow. I don't want you trying to ask us to privately change your partners tonight so deal with it."

That definitely made them shut up before she carried on saying farewell to everybody.

You being you, you stood there stiff as everyone hugged each other. Never knowing how to really say 'bye', you often just waved. It was your thing.

You felt large arms wrap around you, causing you to gasp for air from the tight hold. "It was so nice meeting you, y/n!" You heard Jin burst out before pulling away. "Hoping we end up as partners, you seem so chill."

Certain that that was not going to happen, you sheepishly nodded. Not that you did not want him as a partner, to be fair, you probably would have chosen him as one of your top choices if it were up to you only because he seemed friendly and welcoming.

However, he was the best man.

Everybody knows the best man always gets paired with the maid of the honor, in which you believe was Naile.

Once he moved passed you to say his goodbyes with your parents, you noticed Yoongi finishing his farewells with Namjoon's mom before turning in your direction.

Shifting your eyes somewhere else in the room, you felt a weird feeling in your stomach.

For some reason, interacting with someone else who is also quiet but now intimidating made you extra nervous, fearful they might randomly lash out on you.

Just before Yoongi could at least give you a small nod, like he had done earlier, Namjoon announced that we should all be on our ways as the restaurant probably wanted us gone by now.

Running up to Jimin, you followed your friends and cousin out the door. Not noticing the pair of eyes following your every move up until you were out of sight.

Finally, now you can go home and sleep.

-

Waking up this morning was hard for you, especially when you knew how stressful it was going to be.

Maybe it was because you knew what was to come but didn't at the same time. It was safe to say you were panicking the whole drive to the small park your sister booked for the morning.

However, your sister was nothing close to nervous, in fact, she was beaming in joy throughout the car ride, constantly telling you she was excited to be a day closer to her wedding.

"Don't freak out too much about practice, okay?" Violet began as she parked the car. "None of them have experience dancing, except Hobi and maybe like Jimin and whatever Tae thinks is dancing, but other than that we all suck."

"Thanks for the pep talk, I feel so much better," you sarcastically declare before opening the door and getting out.

"I'm serious! I know you well enough to see how anxious you are about this," she argued. "But I made sure to pick an easy dance we all can learn within a few days"

You only sighed. There was nothing you could really do at this point so there was not much convincing she was doing to make you feel better. Plus, it's her day. You kind of have to do whatever she wants whether you like it or not.

Following her to a medium-sized building, you noticed how nice this park really was. There was a huge duck pond on one side with a beautiful garden all around.

Where does she find these places?

As you two opened the doors, she led you down a hallway until you were walking into a pretty large banquet room. You saw mostly everyone was here, besides Jin and Namjoon, but other than that everyone was here.

"Where's my man?" Your sister questioned, setting her bag on one of the side tables as you closely followed behind her.

"Trying to figure out where he put his dancing shoes," Hoseok stated, lying back on the chair he was sitting in. "Hi, y/n."

You softly waved, seeing that Taehyung and Yoongi were sitting right next to him. Tae was too busy playing some game on his phone to notice your presence as Yoongi just gave you a brief glimpse before going on his phone as well.

"What took you forever to get here?" Jungkook asked, pulling up a seat right next to you on one of the empty tables you sat in. You felt Jimin sit next to him, waiting for your answer.

"Violet couldn't leave the house without shaving her face," you whispered, hoping she didn't hear that or else she would come up with something 10x worse to joke about you.

"I did notice something was different about her," Jimin joked, making you all laugh.

After talking for some time as your sister kept trying to call her fiancee, you heard the slam of a door with the sounds of footsteps nearing.

It appeared that Namjoon probably found his shoes with the help of Jin as they both ran in together, breathing a little heavy as your sister put her hand on her hip.

"Ready," he smiled, trying not to provoke your sister anymore.

Knowing your sister, she was probably going to hire some dance teacher to teach you guys proper techniques. What you did not know was that this instructor was going to make you freestyle your own ending steps with your partners.

Or at least that's what the instructor mentioned after they showed up fifteen minutes late due to "traffic."

But now that they have said it, no one knew who their partners were.

"Time for the moment everyone's been waiting for," your sister stomped her feet and motioned everyone to come near her. Once we did so, she asked, "who wants to know first?"

Jungkook raised his hand quickly. "Me!"

"I think we should make this a little fun," Violet smirked. "Let's write the pair's names on paper, randomly mix them in a bowl and then draw."

Namjoon nodded, not really caring too much about how this was going to be done. He just wanted to begin lessons, already knowing that he wasn't quite the best when it came to body movements only for the world to see.

You were despising every second of this. As the clock kept on ticking, you kept thinking about who your partner would be.

It's not like anyone here was truly horrible- or so you thought.

Plus, you had a high chance of getting the three boys you loved to death. However, your sister did say Jimin and Taehyung were out of the picture, so your only hope was your cousin.

But in your opinion, you weren't familiar with Namjoon's friends. Jin seemed like a sweetheart, but maybe the close proximity of dancing with someone who was practically a stranger was getting in your head.

The main person you were worried about was Yoongi.

It's not like you completely disliked him, you never dislike anyone unless you had a reason to. It was that you didn't know him.

You didn't know Jin either, but the difference was Jin made an effort to communicate to others. Yoongi just sits there with a blank expression, making you question if he is judging or ignoring you.

It's quite intimidating, really.

And with you being extremely quiet too, well... two quiet people don't really work well- or in a situation where both have to actively dance.

"Jimin and Leia!" you heard Namjoon announce.

Damn.

"Sorry, y/n," Jimin mouthed, making you swat your hand in reassurance that you were fine. I guess he's known you for so long to understand how frightening this was for you.

But you're a big girl, you'll get through this.

"Taehyung and Yuna!" Your sister roared.

Okay, maybe not.

Finally, after Hoseok and Jin were called, your nerves were getting to you. Now was not the time to overthink, whatever happens- happens.

Jungkook wasn't making this easier as he kept waving his arms around, mouthing the words "we're definitely partners." And for a split second, you began to believe him.

Well, that was until-

"Y/n and Yoongi," Namjoon called out, making your face fall. Violet began clapping her hands while her fiancee proudly smiled.

Feeling your face turn red, you continue staring at Namjoon as he slowly tilted his head to the side for you to go to your new partner, in which you responded with continuing on your stare.

It felt like hours before you felt someone's presence beside you, causing Namjoon to fix his attention back to announcing who's Jungkook's partner was going to be.

Moving your head slightly to the right, you could make out the bright blonde hair immediately. Yoongi was sitting next to you, oh my-

"I guess we're uh- partners?" he lightly squinted his eyes before looking directly at your own.

You felt weak at the knees by this eye contact, how are you going to make it through the week?

"R-right," you began, mentally screaming at yourself for stuttering "I mean right! Yeah, how uhm..cool?"

"Not really," he sighed, making your eyes widen. Was he really not that happy by this decision? "I don't dance much"

Relief hit you by his answer, okay maybe he doesn't hate you. "Don't worry, I'm on the same boat."

"Namjoon knows I don't do any of this," Yoongi cringed to himself. Does he mean dancing? "I'm sure your sister knows you aren't great either, they should have just partnered us up with someone who wasn't going to make us look humiliating."

Ouch, that stung.

You shut your mouth, not sure what to reply. You understood his point, but at the same time you didn't. It was beginning to become clear now that maybe he wasn't happy with this setup.

"Are we ready to begin?" you heard the instructor exclaim, causing you to look past Yoongi in which you were grateful this small conversation would have to be cut. "Please come forward and spread out, only your partners should be near you!"

Rubbing your fingers, you slowly followed after Yoongi who took the lead towards the middle of the spaced out "dance floor," or the only area in this room that did not have folding tables. The two of you ended up on the side while the others placed themselves throughout the middle and front of the teacher.

After listening to him ramble on about the needed chemistry between partners and showing how our hands must be placed on his practice dummy, who was Namjoon- which Violet did not like, it was time for everyone else to follow.

"Remember, the men are the leads! Take your lady's hand with your left and place your right on her hip! I want to feel the sexual tension from here!"

"Or a comfortable tension," Namjoon interfered.

Looking up at Yoongi, you saw him dully take his left hand out to grab your right one. By his lack of emotion, it triggered you to malfunction and embarrass the hell out of yourself.

He could feel how stiff your body was once he grabbed your hand, beginning to place his right hand behind on your mid back.

"Closer!" the instructor popped out of nowhere, causing you to flinch and almost trip over Yoongi's shoes. Yes, you just stepped on his shoes- he probably hates you now. "Hand on hip! You'll get the rhythm faster."

"No thanks, I'd rather not," Yoongi plainly stated, but was pushed inches away from your face when the instructor pushed you both forward.

You tried your best to look anywhere then at him, but it was incredibly hard. You did catch him throwing out a few glances a few times, but he would always divert his attention somewhere else when he noticed how uncomfortable you reacted to it.

"Do y-you think we should do what they are doing?" You asked, referring to steps that were just given to follow. Everybody else were figuring out the new footwork, but your partner just stood there as if he wanted to die already.

He simply just ignored you, only looking at what Jungkook and his partner were doing. In which, your cousin was swinging the poor girl around while she tried to slow him down in fear.

God, you wish this was over already.

-

"So...how did you like it?!" Violet questioned, sitting down on the bed in your old bedroom while you hid under the blankets. "It was fun, huh?"

"You call that fun?" You groaned, sitting up. "I want a new partner."

"What? No way! Yoongi will be hurt you wanted to switch."

"How if he was the one who questioned why we weren't switched in the first place?"

Violet gasped, "He said that?"

Nodding, you wiped some hair away from your face. "He also refused to put his hand on my hip. Is my body too gross for him or what?"

It did hurt your feelings he wouldn't listen to the basic suggestions, but if he didn't want to then there was nothing you could do.

"Maybe it was a respect thing- like to make sure he wasn't crossing any boundaries?"

Thinking about it for a second, she could be right.

"We just don't mix well, he would just ignore me any time I asked questions or spoke up," You sighed. "Please change my partner-"

"-I can't, we already began rehearsals," She cut you off.

"But we only learned basic steps! I can dance with a whole other human being and get it down with them! Please, please-"

"-no-"

"I can tell he despises every minute of this," You whine. "He's not into it and I'm just holding him back! You already know how scary this is to throw myself out there for this dance, at least let me be with someone who seems comfortable with me. It'll make me less anxious."

Your sister gave you a look, taking her time to think hard about this. She wanted you to feel fully comfortable, but it would be so unfair to switch partners the next day after announcing them.

"You know I want you to feel at your best, but the decision has been made and I-"

"If you let me switch I'll clean your room for a year," You rambled.

She rolled her eyes, "nice try, you don't even live nearby!"

"I'll send you money to buy your favorite meals twice a month!"

Violet gave you a stern look. "Y/n, no means no. I-"

"I'll say a speech at your wedding!"

That made her shut up.

This shocked you too because you avoided this topic from the start when she told you she was engaged. You hated talking, better yet- talking in front of people? No way, impossible to do!

"You would never, you can't even order your food without stuttering."

She didn't have to come at you like that..

"I promise!" you begged, jumping in front of her as she rolled her eyes.

Hearing her sigh, you felt weight being lifted off your shoulder. "Fine! You can have Hoseok, he's a quick learner anyway."

Almost making your sister fall off the bed as you tackled her in a hug, you cheered. "Thank you! Thank you! Tha-"

"Shut up already," she scrunched her face, pushing you off harshly. "I'm only doing this because you seem to feel really uncomfortable being near him and my sister instincts are going off."

You nodded quickly, trying to be on your best behavior so she doesn't change her mind.

"It kind of sucks though," she shrugged. "Namjoon and I thought you would be the perfect fit, you two are so alike"

"Being antisocial doesn't automatically mean we'll hit it off."

"Sorry, wouldn't know what that's like," she smiled and stood up from your bed. "I'm gonna go check on mom and the centerpieces, you should text Hobi a heads up for this week."

Once she left the room, you pulled out your phone to text him. You hope you weren't being a total bitch for doing this, but you doubt Yoongi would get offended.

He was the one who suggested it.

[soft-pxachy]

⤷ ❝sex hotline❞ — myg (s.m) pt. 2

➤ Pareja: yoongi x lectora!fem

➤ Recuento de palabras: 17.4k

➤ Género: sexo telefónico! smut y obscenidad!

➤ Resumen: La idea de tener tu primer orgasmo hablando con un extraño atractivo a través del teléfono te asusta muchísimo, pero tal vez no sea tan malo como crees, después de todo, Min Yoongi era el mejor en su trabajo.

➤ Advertencias: 18+ | lenguaje maduro y explícito | sexo telefónico | diferencia de edad (edad legal) | charla sucia | masturbación (ambos) | dom!yoongi sub!lectora | la lectora deja de ser vírgen | elogios y ligera degradación | Yoongi es coqueto y sabe lo que hace y dice | sobreestimulación | semi-exhibicionismo | mucha tensión sexual | muchos besos | sexo oral (r.lectora) | sexo con protección | sexo romántico (solo poquito) | Yoongi tiene un gran pene! | Jungkook hace una pequeña aparición sorpresa. ➤ Si no eres mayor de 18 años, POR FAVOR, no leas. Si lo haces es bajo tu propia responsabilidad, ten en cuenta las advertencias.

♥︎ softpxachy's

⤷ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ instagram

Delight no siempre había sido una empresa reconocida y tolerada por mucha gente. La primera vez que lanzaron su sitio web, la gente se sintió intrigada por esa llamada "línea directa de sexo telefonico", y era esperarse que muchos se mostraran escépticos y disgustados por la idea general de su concepto.

Pero no hasta que una persona, alguien que no había sido bendecido con el premio gordo de la vida, decidió intentarlo y solicitar el trabajo. Y eso cambió todo.

A Yoongi simplemente le importaba un carajo que la gente lo señalara por postularse para ser un operador de sexo telefónico. Estaba ganando dinero desde la distancia sin esforzarse tanto como una persona promedio lo haría en un trabajo mediocre, ¿Quién no querría el tipo de trabajo que él tenía?

Y fue entonces cuando apareció el nombre 'Suga' en la plataforma, convirtiéndose en una demanda popular de los clientes por encima de otros empleados.

Y Yoongi lo había disfrutado, demasiado, sabía de antemano que él había sacado a flote una empresa condenada al fracaso y que ahora era quién la mantenía viva, él y su afilada lengua, muchas veces fue glorificado por su trabajo y su jefe nunca dudaba en decir eso frente a los otros empleados, ganádose solo los celos y la envidia de los demás empleados por ser considerado el favorito del jefe.

— Que se jodan.— Yoongi respondía de forma arrogante cada que escuchaba las quejas de sus compañeros de trabajo sobre la supuesta injusticia laboral que sufrían.— Deberían ser mejores en su trabajo.

Había estado viviendo los mejores momentos de su vida sin duda alguna, disfrutando con el hecho de hacer que las personas se retorcieran de placer a kilómetros de distancia de él con unas simples palabras que lograban desatar todas sus fantasias mas oscuras, había disfrutado de esa sensación de poder, atención y halagos que recibía por su buen trabajo, pero bien dicen que lo que fácil llega, fácil se va.

Ahora sentía como si todo lo que había logrado en Delight hubiera sido un solo momento de euforia que ahora se había acabado, porque ya no se sentía igual que cuando comenzó con este trabajo.

Ya no sentía esa sensación de adrenalina correr por sus venas cada que escuchaba el tono de llamaba de su número de trabajo, era como si esa sensación de satisfacción y poder se hubiera reducido a nada, como si la rutina de cada día lo hubiera consumido por completo, ya sin siquiera hacerlo sentir placer con lo que hacía, y odiaba admitirlo, pero se sentía como si solo fuera combustible de fantasía para los clientes que pagaban por escucharlo.

Era su trabajo, sí, pero mentiría si dijera que ahora se sentía como una tarea que debía cumplir.

Había una distancia entre él y los demás que de alguna manera detestaba ahora.

Antes, Yoongi encontraba esa desconexión como un consuelo, creía que podía ir y venir cuando quisiera. Se divertiría con los demás en una proximidad lo suficientemente segura como para perder el tiempo sin temor a contraer sentimientos serios y poder mantener su trabajo. Era un plan sólido, hasta que dejó de serlo.

Todo lo que Yoongi anhelaba ahora era esa chispa entre él y otra persona, tener alguien con quién hablar de cosas banales sobre su día y no solo tener que escucharlos gemir a través del teléfono. Y cuanto más tiempo pensaba en eso, más se daba cuenta de lo solo que estaba.

Los ruidosos gemidos al otro lado de la línea lo hicieron formar una mueca y alejar considerablemente el teléfono de su oído, eran tan ensordecedores, mucho más exagerados que si estuviera viendo una película porno, y esa simple situación estaba agotando su paciencia poco a poco. Podía haber sido lo que él quería antes, la distancia, la capacidad de mantenerse inalcanzable, pero ahora se está convirtiendo en algo molesto.

— Relájate bebé, no querrás que tus vecinos te escuchen ¿verdad? — Habló por lo bajo en una sutil amenaza cubierta en una voz ronca, agradeciendo internamente que los lamentos de su clienta al otro lado del teléfono se detuvieran casi por completo.

Y lo siguiente que vinieron fueron los mismos halagos de siempre, agradeciendo haberle hecho pasar un buen momento y rogando su atención de nuevo para la próxima llamada, pero todo lo que pudo hacer fue forzar una amplia sonrisa y encogerse de hombros ante sus palabras justo antes de que toda su máscara se desmoronara cuando terminó la primera llamada de la noche.

Su teléfono se deslizó por la mesa en el centro de la sala cuando lo lanzó sin cuidado, elevando ambas de sus manos para frotar su rostro y suspirar con frustración como lo había hecho en los últimos días, su mirada se desvió hacia su entrepierna y bufó aún más molesto. ¡Ni siquiera habia tenido una jodida erección!

Era realmente divertido como las cosas habían cambiado en un mes, hacer la misma rutina agotadora cada vez le costaba más, después de dos años de estar trabajando para Delight estaba considerando seriamente renunciar al trabajo en el que ya no podía volver a encontrar el mismo placer que sentía antes. Y sabía muy bien que el que estuviera considerando esa idea tenía mucho que ver con una persona, específicamente con T/n.

Supo que estaba completamente jodido desde el primer momento en que se dio cuenta que no podía dejar de pensar en ella, en la forma tan inusual en que llamó a su línea de trabajo,y en cómo se escuchaba tan avergonzada después de que lo supo, había sido lindo, demasiado para hacerlo sonreír después de mucho tiempo de no hacerlo.

Pero lo que simplemente no podía olvidar era su suave y dócil voz con la que lo llamaba y el título que había utilizado para él, era como si aún pudiera escuchar su respiración agitada a través del teléfono, sus gemidos, el simple hecho de recordar que él había sido el primer hombre en hacerla sentir bien, y en lo dulce que se escuchó cuando la hizo tener su primer orgasmo.

Sabia que eso simplemente había alimentado por demás su ego, pero habia algo más y él no podia comprenderlo del todo, T/n tenía algo mas que lo hacía quererla sólo para él, lejos de la forma tan adorable en que ella le había preguntado si podian conocerse en persona, lo entusiasmada que se escuchaba con la simple idea lo seguía atormentando por las noches, sintiéndose como un idiota por la forma tan cobarde que huyó de ella y de algo que él tambien quería.

Y ahora aquí estaba, mirando con desdén el sobre grueso y blanco con su paga mensual por su trabajo y con la mente llena con el recuerdo de T/n, sabía que estaba en las mismas circunstancias, porque sí, joder, la quería, la deseaba y necesitaba, pero sabía que había arruinado todo y que tendría que vivir con eso desde la última vez que habló con ella hace un mes.

Volvió a gruñir frustrado mientras se ponía de pie del sofá donde estaba para servirse un poco de Whisky y ponerse de buen humor para sus próximos clientes, sabiendo que incluso el mínimo requería un cierto grado de esfuerzo y él ya se sentía más agotado que otros días.

Pero su línea se reabriría de nuevo en diez minutos y debía cumpir con su trabajo mientras se preguntaba cuáles podrían ser los interés de su próximo cliente, qué podría hacer para complacerlo y qué podría decirle, estando seguro que al final tendría que conformarse con una paja mal hecha que intentara llenar el vacío dentro de él.

T/n se arrepentía de muchas cosas en su vida.

Cómo no haber organizado una grandiosa fiesta de cumpleaños número dieciocho para celebrar su legalidad, cómo no socializar lo suficiente como para tener un gran círculo de amigos que la sacaran de vez en cuando de su encierro en su departamento. y de cómo había tirado el trozo de papel con el número de teléfono de Yoongi hace unas semanas.

Mentiría si dijera que no había estado tan avergonzada después de todo lo que había pasado con él, podía sentir un nivel de humillación que no creía que un ser humano pudiera sentir. Pero ella lo sentía.

Qué estúpido de su parte habia sido pedirle que se concieran en persona. ¿Para qué? ¿Para que la pudiera follar? ¿Estaba tan caliente que permitió que sus sucios deseos tomaran control sobre ella?

Sí, bueno, había sido una completa tonta con sus palabras, pero lo que aún le seguía dando vueltas a su cabeza fue lo que Yoongi dijo justo antes de terminar la llamada.

"Lo pensaré."

¿No era esa una buena forma de decir "no"?

Pero aún así, no había forma de que volviera a hablar con él y pedirle una explicación o aunque sea disculparse por dejarse ver como una urgida. Su teléfono no habia guardado su contacto y queriendo olvidar todo lo que habia pasado, simplemente tiró la tarjeta a la basura.

No sabía si culparse a sí misma por querer escuchar su voz una vez más, por querer revivir los sentimientos que tenía cada vez que Yoongi le hablaba con esa voz tan sensual, incluso si era simplemente para poder disculparse, T/n anhelaba ser cautivada una vez más con su voz.

Se encogió de hombros mientras desconectaba su computadora de su escritorio para pasarse a su cama sin darle muchas vueltas al asunto.

— Soy una perra desesperada, pero está bien.— Habló sarcásticamente mientras abría el navegador, respirando profundo para tomar algo de valor.— Todo lo que tengo que hacer ahora es disculparme. Eso es todo.

Se sentía incluso más nerviosa que esta tarde cuando decidió que debia ponerle fin a todo esto que tuvo con Yoongi y tratar de buscar la empresa en la que trabajaba para disculparse y poder dormir en paz por las noches, sus manos sudaban mientras escribía en el buscador "línea directa de sexo", inmediatamente apareció un sitio llamado Delight como el enlace superior y cuando le dio clic al texto resaltado en azul se sorprendió aún más.

— Dios…— Resopló de forma temblorosa preguntándose cómo era que a las 7 p.m de un domingo se encontraba desplazándose por este sitio web.

En la página principal podía ver una línea directa etiquetada como "perfiles de operador" y cuando dio clic alrededor de 10 perfiles de operadores se desplegaron ante sus ojos, cada uno en orden de acuerdo al puntaje de estrellas que recibían de los clientes, y el primer perfil era el de Suga con una calificación de 5 estrellas y con cientos de opiniones de diferentes clientes; hombres y mujeres por igual.

Le fue imposible no sonrojarse viendo una que otra de las opiniones donde halagaban sus servicios, sorprendiéndose con lo abiertos que eran los usuarios de la página, pero de igual no podía negarlo, Yoongi era realmente bueno en su trabajo, lo había comprobado por sí misma aunque no hubiera sido una clienta como tal, y sintió su corazón latir con fuerza en su pecho mientras marcaba en su teléfono cada número que estaba en la plataforma, sin saber si estaba mental y físicamente preparada para lo que estaba a punto de hacer.

Yoongi ya iba por su segunda copa de Whisky de la noche, y agradecía internamente que fuera demasiado tolerante con el alcohol para decidir seguir trabajando con los clientes que tenía en espera en lugar de mandar todo a la mierda e irse a dormir.

Suspiró pesadamente mientras le daba un último vistazo a la gran vista de la ventana hacia la ciudad nocturna debajo de él, viendo el bullicio de los vehiculos y de la gente vivir sus vidas en paz antes de volverse hacia su sofa y tomar asiento, ya estaba sin camisa y solo vestia un par de pantalones negros, las luces de la sala era tenues y la musica sonaba de fondo, lo que ayudó a construir una buena atmosfera como lo hacia cada noche.

El tono de llamada volvió a resonar en toda la habitación y dejó el vaso de cristal en la mesita frente a él mientras respiraba hondo, como si su cerebro encendiera un interruptor su actitud arrogante y sensual regresó a su cuerpo en un abrir y cerrar de ojos mientras levantaba el teléfono para contestar.

— Buenas noches cariño.— Respondió por lo bajo, haciendo todo lo posible por entrar en personaje, y no pudo evitar fruncir el ceño cuando el otro lado de la línea se quedó en silencio.— ¿Hola? ¿Puedes oírme claramente, querida?

Y aún así, el silencio seguía predominando.

Yoongi no estaba sorprendido por eso, e involuntariamente sonrió al recordar que así fue como conoció a T/n, se rió por lo bajo de eso y cuando estaba a punto de hablar, lo siguiente que escuchó lo tomó por sorpresa antes de que pudiera pronunciar alguna palabra.

— ¿Yoongi?

Y con eso se quedó boquiabierto cuando se dio cuenta de que el cliente sabía su verdadero nombre, entró en pánico, sin saber si alguien se había entrometido en su privacidad o si era un acosador espeluznante.

Ahora, fue su turno de quedarse sin palabras.

— Yoongi... soy T/n.

Y Yoongi sintió una puñalada clavarsele en el pecho. Había estado intentando olvidar lo que pasó entre ustedes dos durante las últimas semanas, sin poder dejar de pensar en ella, y ahora de repente todos esos recuerdos le volvieron a inundar la mente.

Ya había cometido el error de huir de ella cuando le preguntó si podían verse, pero con lo siguiente que dijo fue como si estuviera actuando solo por impulso y con la sorpresa del momento.

— ¿T/n? — Balbuceó de a poco, aun sin poder creer que estaba hablando de nuevo con ella.— T/n, ya te dije...

— ¡Escucha! — T/n respondió de inmediato, sin darle oportunidad de que volviera a alejarse.— Sé que probablemente este no sea el momento adecuado, pero quiero pedirte perdón por...

— Sí, T/n, ahora no es el momento.— Yoongi la cortó de repente, inclinando la cabeza hacia atrás y desplomándose sobre el sofá.— Estoy tratando de trabajar.

Y tan pronto como dijo eso ni siquiera pudo luchar contra el impulso de querer golpearse el rostro, ¿de verdad había dicho eso? Después de estarse quejando de su trabajo durante semanas, ¿lo había vuelto a poner primero antes que ella?

Con eso solo volvió a corroborar que era un idiota, y se sintió así aún más cuando escuchó a T/n murmurar un pequeño y debil “lo siento” a traves del telefono, era como si pudiera imaginarla encogida en su cama y con un puchero en los labios por sus palabras disculpandose por haberlo molestado, cuando él era el que debia disculparse con ella por todo lo que habia pasado.

— Esta bien bebé, lo entiendo…— Comenzó a hablar despacio mientras se pasaba una mano por su cabello negro.— Y yo también lo siento, lo último que dije la otra vez fue un movimiento idiota, solo estaba pensando en mi trabajo.

Y con eso T/n se permitiò escucharlo atentamente, asintiendo a sus palabras como si él pudiera verla, sonriendo al escuchar ese bonito apodo brotar de sus labios y sintiendo como su voz tan calmada y serena viajaba por su cuerpo como si fuera una manta cubriendola y haciéndola entrar en calor, sin poder evitar admitir que había extrañado demasiado esa sensación.

— Pero, dijiste que pensarías sobre eso…— T/n murmuró poco después sintiendo como el entusiasmo volvía a ella y atreviéndose a mencionar eso de nuevo con la pequeña esperanza de que él también lo quisiera tanto como ella.

Y aparentemente estaba en lo correcto, porque una sonrisa felina se dibujó en los labios de Yoongi al escucharla, y decidió llevar la llamada por una ruta diferente, viendo si podía usar esto a su favor para hacerlos pasar un buen rato ahora que se daba cuenta de cuánto había extrañado hablar con ella y queriendo aprovechar esta llamada al máximo.

— ¿Cuánto tiempo has estado pensando en mí, bebé? — Preguntó con su voz volviéndose grave y ronca, ensanchando su sonrisa al escuchar un leve suspiro al otro lado de la línea.— ¿No me digas que ya has dejado de pensar en lo que puedo hacerte?

Y ante eso T/n tuvo que morder su labio para intentar reprimir los pequeños gemidos que amenazaban con salir de su boca, siempre iba a estar sorprendida del increíble poder que tenía su voz en ella, de cómo se derretía ante sus palabras y de cómo su respiración se aceleraba con solo escucharlo.

Yoongi era como ese néctar de placer al que siempre quieres regresar para poder disfrutar un poco más, y por supuesto que no negaría sus preguntas, todas las noches después de sus calientes encuentros por medio del teléfono se encontraba sobre su cama y con la mano entre sus piernas intentando volver a sentir lo que sintió con él hablándole al oído, pero como era de esperarse, ninguna de esas veces lo logro, y eso solo la hacía desearlo aún más.

Yoongi solo sonrió aún más al no recibir una respuesta de ella, solo disfrutando con el sonido de su acelerada respiración, casi pudiendo imaginar que era lo que T/n debía estar sintiendo en este preciso momento

— A decir verdad, T/n, yo no podía dejar de pensar en ti. Si tan solo supieras lo horrible que me sentí cortándote así.— Yoongi volvió a hablar, usando esa voz tan sensual y sabiendo perfectamente el efecto que tenía sobre ella solo para ver hasta dónde podía llegar.

— Supongo que ambos somos culpables de algo, ¿eh? — T/n respondió de igual forma, todavía tratando de acostumbrarse a escucharlo después de tanto tiempo.— Pero eso es todo lo que tengo que decir. Yo... puedo dejarte con tu trabajo ahora, supongo que tienes toda una fila esperando por ti.— Agregó con calma y su voz se desvaneció al final de su oración.

Y esa fue la señal que Yoongi esperaba, una bombilla apareció en la parte superior de su cabeza, con una idea nadando en su mente sobre lo que podía hacer con ella, no podía dejar que esta llamada se desperdiciara, sin saber si esta podría ser la ultima vez que hablaría con ella y que escucharía su dulce voz.

— ¿Crees que voy a dejarte ir así? — Yoongi murmuró roncamente después de escuchar sus palabras y solo para agregar en medio de un gemido ahogado.— ¿Sin hacerte pasar un buen rato? ¿Qué dices, bebé?

Era como si con con cada palabra Yoongi le estuviera hablando como si fuera la primera vez, y T/n pudo sentir como los latidos de su corazón se volvieron más rápidos y acelerados, estaba volviendo a usar esa voz que tanto adoraba en secreto y simplemente dejó que su mente se sometiera a sus deseos y que sus fantasías hicieran lo que quisieran con su cuerpo.

— Aw, sé que quieres, T/n. No seas tímida, sé que ha pasado un tiempo desde que escuchaste mi voz. ¿No quieres que te hable sucio? — Yoongi volvió a provocarla, pero era como si los efectos estuvieran actuando de forma contraproducente en él porque todo su cuerpo se calentó en un santiamén cuando la escucho soltar un rápido y silencioso gemido por lo bajo, haciéndolo sonreír de forma arrogante y sentir como toda la adrenalina volvía a apoderarse de él.— ¿Mhm? ¿Ese pequeño gemido es un sí? ¿Quieres que te hable sucio y te ayude a correrte, bebé?

T/n suspiró temblorosamente mientras se acomodaba mejor sobre la cama, apoyando su cabeza en las almohadas solo para cerrar sus ojos por un breve momento, estaba aquí, ésto estaba ocurriendo de nuevo, y no había un solo nervio en su cuerpo que quisiera detenerse, así que se obligó a cerrar sus piernas juntas por la necesidad de sentir un poco de fricción ahí abajo con lo siguiente que dijo.

— Sí, por favor.

Yoongi chasqueó su lengua al otro lado de la línea al mismo tiempo que inclinaba su cabeza hacia un lado en señal de molestia.— Niña mala. ¿Ya has olvidado cómo llamarme?

— No, lo siento señor.— T/n se corrigió de inmediato, sin poder evitar arrastrar su pijama hasta sus rodillas para poder acariciar la parte interna de sus muslos de a poco, sintiendo su piel caliente y ansiosa.

— Joder, me encanta que me llames asi.— Yoongi soltó un gemido de satisfacción después de escucharla, dejando caer su cabeza hacia atrás sobre el respaldo del sofá y sintiendo como toda la sangre de su cuerpo se concentraba en su entrepierna.— Siempre tan obediente y educada conmigo, creo que necesitas saber cómo tu dulce voz hace que mi polla se ponga dura por ti.— Y con eso volvió a escuchar otro gemido manso brotar de sus labios, instandolo a continuar hablando con una sonrisa arrogante.— Me imagino lo desesperada que debes de estar por sentir mi polla follando tu pequeño y apretado coño, porque eso es lo que quieres ¿verdad?

— Sí, señor…— T/n suspiró esas dos palabras mientras su mano subía por sus piernas, llegando al lugar deseado solo dejar que sus dedos se deslizaran lentamente por encima de su núcleo vestido, sintiendo un escalofrío recorrer su cuerpo cuando escuchó un gemido gutural brotar de él seguido de un profundo suspiro.

¿Él tambien se estaba tocando? Joder, si estaba en lo correcto T/n pudo jurar que sintió como si una oleada de calor la hubiera golpeado de repente, todo su cuerpo se sentia extremadamente caliente y necesitado y le fue imposible no enredar sus dedos en el borde de su blusa para quitarsela, arrepintiendose casi de inmediato cuando escucho a Yoongi chistar molesto.

— ¿Ya te estás desvistiendo sin que yo te lo haya dicho? — Yoongi se burló con un tinte de advertencia en su voz que rápidamente fue remplazado por una neblina de deseo al imaginar todo su cuerpo desnudo, con sus senos al aire libre y sus bragas empapadas mientras lo esperabas tendida en su cama, y fue esa misma imagen mental la que lo hizo comenzar a palmearse su pene medio duro por encima de sus pantalones.— ¿Puedes hacerme un favor y jugar con tus tetas, bebé?

Yoongi pidio en medio de un suspiro tembloroso que hizo que T/n obedeciera de inmediato a su orden, poniendo su teléfono en altavoz para elevar sus manos hacia su pecho, jadeando con fuerza cuando deslizó la punta de sus dedos alrededor de sus duros pezones, amasando cada uno de sus senos con la presión perfecta haciéndola arquear su espalda; prácticamente retorciéndose sobre su cama y apretando sus muslos juntos, sintiendo como el calor en su entrepierna aumentara incontrolablemente, obligándose a morderse el labio inferior para tratar de ocultar sus vergonzosos gemidos y fallando olimpicamnete en el intento.

— ¿Alguna vez te tocaste pensando en mi, bebé? — Yoongi pregunto después de unos segundos queriendo saber si ella había pasado por lo mismo que él; disfrutando en silencio de su respiración laboriosa y sus suaves gemidos, jugando consigo mismo debajo de sus pantalones, con sus largos dedos frotando fácilmente toda la circunferencia de su pene erecto aún atrapado en su boxer.

— Lo intenté…— T/n susurro a medias, con su mente volviendo a esos momentos en los que Yoongi la hacía sentir increíblemente húmeda con solo su voz cuando hablaba con él, aun cuestionandose como era posible que un hombre detrás de un teléfono tuviera tanto efecto en ella.— Lo intenté, pero no era tan bueno…

— ¿En realidad? ¿Prefieres que yo te ayude?— Yoongi sonrió ante tus palabras y ante el bonito gemido que se escuchó al otro lado, haciéndolo sacar su pene de su confinamiento y viendo su erección salir disparada hacia arriba y golpear su abdomen ligeramente, sin poder evitar morderse el labio ante la vista, hacia tanto tiempo que no tenía una buena erección y ahora T/n lo había logrado tan fácilmente.

— Joder, sí…— T/n respondió con su voz temblorosa y mientras arrastraba su mano por toda su entrada, jugando con sus pliegues humedos por encima de la tela; ejerciendo un poco de presión sobre su clítoris solo para que sus caderas se sacudieran con placer y haciendola respirar con dificultad.— Mhm ¿puedo tocarme, señor?

Y Yoongi gruño a través de su labio inferior mordido, con sus cejas fruncidas y con sus dedos moviéndose con más fuerza sobre su dura longitud, eras una chica tan buena para él, y lo ponía duro como una piedra concebir que una chica tan linda como tú pudiera someterse fácilmente a una de sus charlas sucias, solo haciéndolo esparcir el líquido preseminal que brotaba de la punta de su pene por todo lo largo, imaginando que era tu humedad la que lo cubría.

— Ow bebé…— Yoongi bromeó con arrogancia y solo escuchandola quejarse por lo bajo de sus burlas.— ¿Quieres tocarte ahí abajo con mi ayuda?

— Sí, sí…— T/n respondió rápidamente, casi jadeando mientras las puntas de sus dedos se movían entre sus pliegues, chillando por lo bajo sin tener una fricción real donde más lo necesitaba.— Por favor, señor. Por favor…

— ¿Y qué te hace pensar que te mereces mi ayuda, hm? — Yoongi preguntó con su voz áspera, deteniendo los movimientos en su pene y escuchando el susurro confundido brotar de sus labios.

— P-pero…— T/n balbuceó sin entender sus palabras, sintiendo una serie de fuertes escalofríos recorrer su cuerpo una vez más.

— Puedo dejarte aquí, ahora mismo, terminar esta maldita llamada como si hablar contigo nunca hubiera pasado.— Yoongi habló con desdén riendo por lo bajo de la forma en que la escuchó removerse sobre la cama y dejar escapar otro gemido lastimero ante sus palabras.— Eres como una pequeña gatita, siempre lloriqueando en lugar de decir lo que diablos quiere.

¿Cómo se habia vuelto tan degradante de repente?

La mente de T/n estaba haciendo todo lo posible para pensar en una respuesta a su pregunta anterior, y, afortunadamente, Yoongi espero paciente.

— He sido buena, señor…— Respondió poco después, no queriendo hacerlo esperar demasiado y que se molestara por eso antes de sobresaltarse sobre la cama al escucharlo reír burlonamente.

— ¿Buena? Claro, has sido una buena niña.— Yoongi reaccionó arrogante ante su respuesta soltando el agarre en su miembro y viéndolo rebotar levemente sobre su vientre.— Me he encontrado con muchas de ellas en el pasado, cariño. Todas estaban llenas de palabras, pero no podían soportar ser jodidamente obedientes. ¿Cómo puedes ser diferente, eh? ¿Cómo puedo saber que no me estás mintiendo?

T/n quería golpear una pared por la forma en que se estaba burlando de ella, y su espalda se arqueó sin darse cuenta, reprimiendo un grito de frustración al escucharlo reír sutilmente ante su reacción.

— Sabes, escucharte toda ansiosa y necesitada, escuchar las sábanas debajo de ti moverse mientras tu cuerpo se retuerce es música para mis oídos, será mejor que no te toques, T/n. ¿Quieres ser una buena niña? Entonces espera mis instrucciones, ¿entendido?

— Sí, señor.— T/n respondió en un santiamén a sus palabras, alejando sus manos por completo de entre sus piernas.

Oh, Yoongi nunca se cansaria de escuchar la forma en que decias esas dos palabras.

— Más fuerte.— Demandó endureciendo el tono de su voz.

Otro jadeo tembloroso dejó los labios de T/n al escucharlo, sabía muy bien que Yoongi estaba en su estado más dominante y eso solo la hacía querer darle todo lo que pidiera, y le encantaba, jodidamente que le encantaba.

— Sí, señor.— Expresó una vez más, más fuerte que la anterior.

Yoongi no solo estaba cautivado con ella y con su afán de querer complacerlo, sino que se sentía diferente cuando hablaba con ella a comparación de otros clientes y no podía negar que sentía un cariño especial, era como si estuviera hablando con alguien personal para él, y no solo con un extraño, todo era mas intimo con ella.

— Muy bien…— Murmuró poco después, mientras que con uno de sus dedos trazaba la longitud palpitante de su miembro; provocándose desde la base hasta la punta, impaciente por escuchar sus encantadores gemidos, pero aún así se las arregló para seguir hablando.— Sabes, T/n, quiero saber más sobre ti.

— ¿Oh? ¿A qué te refieres? — T/n preguntó un tanto confundida, casi sintiendo como su excitación inicial se iba esfumando de su cuerpo.

— Tienes que decirme lo que te gusta, cariño. Lo que te excita, las fantasías que tienes almacenadas en esa sucia cabecita tuya.— Yoongi habló con una voz tan baja, tan profunda y tan sensual que T/n ni siquiera pudo evitar sentir como una descarga de adrenalina corría por sus venas y como el familiar cosquilleo se acentuaba entre sus piernas una vez más.

Inmediatamente su rostro se sonrojo y su respiración se agitó al darse cuenta de lo que estaba pidiendo, esta era la primera vez que un hombre le preguntaba cuales eran sus deseos y, si era completamente sincera, T/n tenia las fantasías más oscuras y sucias para alguien que nunca antes habia tenido sexo.

— No puedo ayudarte si no me lo dices, bebé. Vamos, dime lo que te gusta y tal vez…— Yoongi volvió a hablar justo antes de hacer una pausa y morderse el labio inferior ante lo que siguiente que dijo.— Tal vez podemos hacer que cobren vida.

Y T/n pudo jurar que casi jadeó al escucharlo, sus cejas se arrugaron dándose cuenta de lo excitada que estaba de nuevo y sus caderas se agitaron sobre la cama necesitando un poco de fricción en su clítoris, la forma en que Yoongi hablaba solo alimentaba aún más su deseo de él, y sabía que si no podía tenerlo pronto se volvería loca.

— ¿Cobren vida? — T/n preguntó retóricamente mientras pasaba la punta de su lengua por sus labios, sonriendo con complicidad queriendo escucharlo decir lo que tanto necesitaba.— ¿Qué está insinuando, señor?

Yoongi podía sentirla sonriendo al otro lado de la línea mientras decía esas palabras, haciéndolo sonreír de la misma forma; contento con la repentina confianza en su tono de voz generalmente manso que tanto adoraba.

— Niña, estoy insinuando que vengas para que finalmente pueda hacer que mi lengua pruebe tu dulce coño.

Y con eso T/n ni siquiera pudo evitar jadear con fuerza, sintiendo como si con esas palabras hubiera activado un botón de deseo duplicado dentro de ella, y haciendo que Yoongi sonriera aún más al escucharla.

Completamente seguro de que él quiso decir cada palabra que dijo.

Él la necesitaba, y ya le importa un carajo todo lo demás.

T/n no podía hacer que sus pies se quedaran quietos mientras rebotaban constantemente bajo el escritorio, sus ojos miraban el reloj sobre la pizarra cada minuto como si pudiera hacer que el tiempo avanzara mas rapido. Quedaban diez minutos antes de que terminara su última clase, irónicamente con la profesora Kim, y con eso ya habría terminado con sus clases del día de hoy, y eso significaba que finalmente conocería a Yoongi.

Nunca pensó que terminaría así, una chica universitaria virgen que anhelaba a un hombre que nunca antes había visto, pero Yoongi lo había logrado, había logrado que se enamorara completamente de él con solo su voz.

T/n no dejaba de pensar en qué aspecto tendría Yoongi, si su voz era tan profunda y erótica en la vida real o solo lo era a través del teléfono, pero en lo que más podía pensar era en cómo se sentirían sus manos en sobre ella, apretándola contra su cuerpo mientras se encargaba de murmurar todas esas palabras lascivas contra su oído, haciéndola temblar con cada sílaba que pronunciara como tantas veces había soñado. Esa simple idea hacía que su cabeza diera mil vueltas, solo haciéndola sentir cada vez más ansiosa y desesperada.

— Oye, no hagas eso.— Una voz al otro lado de ella la hizo salir de su torrente de pensamientos sucios sobre Yoongi, y cuando se giró hacia la izquierda para mirar al dueño de esa voz se encontró con un chico de cabello largo y negro, mirandola con ojos de gacela con sumo cuidado antes de volver a hablar.— ¿Estas bien?

— Si, lo siento.— T/n musitó por lo bajo deteniendo el movimiento de su pierna y encogiéndose en su asiento con vergüenza como si el hombre al lado de ella supiera cada uno de sus pensamientos.— No quise molestarte.

— No, no, no es nada. He leído en alguna parte que mover la pierna continuamente es un signo de ansiedad... o algo así.— El chico sonrió mostrando sus dientes antes de resoplar nerviosamente.— Soy Jungkook.

Esto era tan aleatorio. T/n había estado sentada al lado de este chico durante toda la clase sin haber cruzado ni una sola palabra y ahora se estaba presentando a ella.

— Soy T/n, un gusto conocerte.— Respondió cortésmente al mismo tiempo que la campana de final de clases se escuchaba por toda la escuela, regresando los nervios a su cuerpo y haciéndola ponerse de pie para recoger todas su cosas y salir lo más pronto posible, evitando más interacciones con Jungkook.

— Oye…

Su voz la detuvo de nuevo justo cuando estaba a punto de bajar las escaleras hacía la salida de la escuela, y cuando T/n se dio la vuelta hacía él casi estuvo a punto de suspirar por lo increíblemente guapo que era viéndolo pasar una mano por su cabello espeso; peinandolo hacia atrás antes de hablar.

— ¿Tal vez podríamos conocernos algún día?

Yoongi.

Tenía que ver a Yoongi.

—Uhm bueno…— T/n murmuró evitando el contacto visual con él, recordando que Yoongi la estaba esperando fuera de la escuela.— Lo pensaré, Jungkook.

Y antes de que pudiera decir algo mas T/n prácticamente salió corriendo hacia la puerta, frunciendo lo labios al darse cuenta de que acababa de rechazar a un hombre como Jungkook, pero ahora en todo lo que podía pensar era en Yoongi.

Yoongi le había enviado un mensaje de texto para que se encontraran en la biblioteca justo afuera de su universidad, y ahí estaba, sentando en uno de los bancos fuera del lugar con las piernas cruzadas mientras jugueteaba con su teléfono.

Al igual que T/n, él también se preguntaba cómo se vería ella, y sin embargo, él estaba seguro que sería tan hermosa como lo era su voz, y tenía ese pensamiento mientras escaneaba la multitud de estudiantes que salía de la universidad, tratando de adivinar quién eras en esa masa de personas.

Le envío otro mensaje con un simple "Te llamare”, y en cuestión de segundos, su corazón comenzó a acelerarse mientras caminaba hacia la biblioteca marcando su numero para llamarla, sabría instantáneamente dónde estaría T/n tan pronto como se llevara el teléfono a la oreja, y efectivamente así fue.

— Estoy justo aquí, bebé.— Yoongi habló a través del teléfono centrando su atención y su mirada en T/n quien juró que sintió una ola de mariposas revoloteando en su estómago al escuchar su voz resonando a través de su cuerpo.

Se dirigió de a poco hacia donde estaba sentado, viéndolo todavía con su teléfono contra su oreja y con sus ojos enfocados en ella sin dejar de mirarla con una sonrisa arrogante en todo su rostro, y T/n estaba rezando porque no se diera cuenta de la forma tan vergonzosa que su cuerpo estaba temblando de los nervios.

¿Realmente era él?

Dio unos cuantos pasos más hacia adelante hasta que estuvo prácticamente a medio metro de él, su mirada estaba clavada en ella y parecía que todo lo que la rodeaba la hacía aminorar la marcha.

— Yoongi…— T/n susurró por lo bajo, y él escuchó el suave sonido a través del teléfono.

— Mhm sí, ese soy yo.— Yoongi afirmó formando una sonrisa sin apartar los ojos de ella antes de levantarse bruscamente del asiento.— Acércate.— Demandó con el teléfono todavía presionado a su oreja, y T/n hizo lo que dijo, cerrando la brecha entre ustedes dos lentamente.— Más cerca.

Y mientras la veia acercarse mas a él Yoongi ni siquiera pudo evitar escanear su cuerpo de arriba hacía abajo con sus ojos, observando atentamente la forma en que sus curvas resaltaban bajo su ropa, era solo un poco más pequeña que él, sus ojos de muñeca dejaban de mirarlo con asombro y los de Yoongi se perdieron por completo en sus labios que se veían tan suaves, de repente sintió el deseo abrasador de poder besarlos para poder comprobar su teoría y las palmas de sus manos comenzaron a picar con la necesidad imperiosa de poder tocarla.

— Hermosa.— Yoongi susurró poco después, con su voz ahogada y lo suficientemente alto como para que T/n lo escuchara, haciéndolo ensanchar su sonrisa cuando noto como apartaba su mirada avergonzada de él.

La llamada terminó cuando estuvo finalmente frente a Yoongi y cuando él le extendió su mano para que la tomara, todo era diferente esta vez, esto estaba sucediendo en la vida real y T/n ya no estaba en la comodidad de su habitación hablando con él, Yoongi estaba con ella, físicamente presente, a punto de recibir su toque, como tantas veces había imaginado.

— No me dejes con la mano estirada, bebé.— Yoongi habló divertido y con su voz ronca, ensanchando su sonrisa hacia ella.

Oh, Dios. Su voz sonaba mucho mejor que por teléfono, tenía esa misma profundidad, ese tono que siempre hacía que su cuerpo temblara y se agitara de lujuria, y T/n se obligó a sacudir todo tu nerviosismo antes de tomar su mano y estrecharla con la suya.

Podría haber mentido, pero T/n estaba completamente segura que sintió una descarga eléctrica recorrer todo su cuerpo tan pronto como su mano tocó la de él, y se quedó procesando esa sensación mientras Yoongi la acercaba más hacia él, casi demasiado para poder notar la forma en que su mirada estaba pegada a sus labios, lamiendo lo suyos a cambio, y de alguna manera, era como si los dos se estuvieran tomando su tiempo para sumergirse en la presencia del otro entre las personas que seguían caminando a su alrededor.

— ¿Está bien si envuelvo mis brazos alrededor de ti? — Yoongi ronroneó examinando su rostro en busca de una respuesta, desechando su creciente ego al notar que sus mejillas se ponían más rojas a cada segundo.— ¿Hm? — Instó mientras con su pulgar acariciaba sus nudillos con calidez y, con cada roce, T/n sentía su corazón latir más rápido a cada segundo.

T/n no respondió, más bien tomó su mano y la guío hacia su cintura, como si estuviera pidiendo en silencio que la tocara, y él gustoso lo hizo, envolviendo su mano alrededor de su cintura.— Puedes abrazarme, Yoongi.

Y sin dudarlo Yoongi usó ambas manos para acercarla por completo a él, presionando su cuerpo contra su pecho y eliminando por completo cualquier distancia entre los dos casi con urgencia.

— No sabes cuánto te he imaginado diciendo mi nombre, joder.— Murmuró con su voz baja, mirándola con avidez al mismo tiempo que frotaba sus pulgares en su cintura enviandole pequeñas descargas de placer por su cuerpo.— Eres tan jodidamente impresionante, bebé.

T/n prácticamente tuvo que reprimir un gemido que amenazaba salir de sus labios al escucharlo, sabia que no podia hacerlo en publico, pero era casi imposible no querer derretirse a sus pequeñas atenciones.

— Eres más de lo que esperaba…— Yoongi volvió a hablar mientras apoyaba su frente en la tuya, ajeno al hecho de que ambos están en público, mostrando afecto como si fueran un pareja, la estaba mirando profundamente a los ojos como si se conocieran desde hace mucho tiempo sin detener sus caricias en su piel.

¿Por qué lo haría después de todo cuando se moría por ponerle un dedo encima desde que la conoció?

— Eres un chica jodidamente hermosa.— Arrulló con su voz ronca al mismo tiempo que una de sus manos viajaba hacia arriba para sujetarla por su nuca con dureza, casi a punto de besarla de una buena vez.

— Aquí no, por favor…— T/n sollozó por lo bajo, abrumada con su imponente presencia y apartando su mirada de la de él; completamente sonrojada con sus palabras.

— Esa es la voz que me gusta escuchar.— Yoongi habló en medio de una sonrisa arrogante.— No puedo esperar a escuchar más de eso pronto.— Agregó separándose de a poco de ella para tomar una de sus manos y besarla suavemente bajo la mirada sorprendida de T/n.

Aún no podía comprender que esto realmente estaba sucediendo. Nada de esto hubiera ocurrido si T/n no hubiera recogido la nota de su profesora ese día con el número de teléfono de Yoongi. En cierto modo, sentía que le debía mucho a la profesora Kim, una parte de ti estaba contenta de que fueras tú quien experimentara el toque de Yoongi y muchas más cosas y no ella.

— Hay un bar a un par de cuadras de aquí. ¿Qué dices? — Yoongi habló mientras abría la puerta del pasajero de su auto para que pudiera entrar, pero antes de que pudiera tomar asiento frunció los labios hacia él.

— No estoy vestida para eso…— T/n murmuró por lo bajo, queriendo esconderse de su intensa mirada.

— T/n…— Yoongi chasqueó la lengua, sonando un poco decepcionado.— Eso no es un problema, lo sabes.— Agregó al mismo tiempo que con sus dedos aplicaba la cantidad correcta de presión en su barbilla para elevar su cabeza hacia el.

T/n lo miro con ojos grandes sin saberlo, y eso solo hizo que la mente de Yoongi funcionara con varios pensamientos. Pensamientos que no correspondían en este momento y se mordió el labio inferior por un momento antes de regresar a la realidad.

— No tienes que disfrazarte. Solo tienes que verte bien para mí, y en este momento…— Murmuró bajando el tono de su voz, inclinándose sobre su cuerpo para estar más cerca de ella, tanto que sus rostros casi se tocaban.— Te ves jodidamente deliciosa, especialmente con esta falda corta tuya. ¿Está permitido usar un material tan corto en la escuela?

— Está bien, está bien.— T/n exclamó suspirando mientras sentía como todo su rostro se calentaba una vez más antes de subirse de inmediato a su auto sin pensarlo dos veces y haciendo reír a Yoongi.

Era la primera vez que lo escuchaba reír así, casi aireado y con hipo, lo que le pareció realmente adorable; ese era un contraste total de la personalidad habitual que había visto en él, y creo una nota mental para poder hacerlo reír más a menudo.

Era como si Yoongi encajara perfectamente en el bar como si fuera allí cada vez que podía. Su atuendo era completamente negro y se ajustaba perfectamente a su cuerpo bien formado, y complementaba el aura tenue y sensual del bar.

T/n era todo lo contrario, y era ridículo: la imagen de ustedes dos caminando dentro del edificio y lo diferente que se veía a su lado, pero tan pronto como pensó en eso también lo olvidó cuando sintió la mano de Yoongi en su espalda baja, guiandola con firmeza por el bar cuando entraron y cuando fueron recibidos con música r&b retumbando por todo el lugar, T/n prácticamente tuvo que morder el interior de sus mejillas al sentir como sus dedos rozaban su piel expuesta de su cintura, imaginándose como se sentirian si subieran un poco más, y rápidamente salió de su burbuja de fantasías cuando volvió a hablar.

— ¿Tomas? — Yoongi preguntó tirando hacia atrás el taburete para que pudiera sentarse sin apartar su mirada de ella.

— Algunas veces.— T/n respondió tomando asiento y tirando de su falda hacia abajo cuando subió un poco más por sus piernas, y formó una mueca arrepintiéndose por habérsela puesto hoy, pero cuando elevó su mirada volvió a atrapar a Yoongi observando cada uno de sus movimientos con atención.— Deja de mirarme de esa forma.

— ¿O si no qué, hm? — Yoongi farfulló con arrogancia en su voz y sonriendo al verla suspirar, joder, acababan de entrar al bar y él ya le estaban dando ganas de correr a su casa. 

Antes de que T/n pudiera decir algo más el bartender se acercó a ustedes dos con un brillo particular en sus ojos, e instantáneamente fijó su atención en ella, la comisura de su boca se levantó en una sonrisa sugerente mientras se apoyaba sobre el mostrador donde estaban, y casi por inercia los ojos de T/n se desviaron a sus brazos, viendo la forma en que las curvas de sus bíceps se marcaban aún más gracias a su camisa de vestir blanca y apretada. 

Y por supuesto que Yoongi lo notó, pero opto por no decir nada.

— ¿Qué puedo conseguir para ti…

— Dos latas de cerveza.— Yoongi respondió antes de que pudiera decir algo más y haciendo que el bartender lo mirara solo para poner su mano derecha sobre tu rodilla expuesta.— Para mi niña y para mí.

Dios.

T/n apretó sus labios mientras agachaba su mirada hacia abajo, completamente sonrojada por la forma en que se refirió hacia ella, y solo pudo ver de reojo como el bartender enderezaba su postura mientras tosía incómodamente.

— Entendido, en un momento traeré su pedido.

Y tan pronto como se fue volviendo a dejarlos solos Yoongi acerco su taburete al de T/n, sus rodillas quedaron rozando las de ella mientras T/n seguia mirando hacia abajo.

— Mírame.— Yoongi ordenó poco después tomándola por su mentón para obligarla a mirarlo  cuando se encontró con su rostro su mirada se poso de inmediato en sus labio entreabiertos,, casi a punto de mandar todo a la mierda y besarla ahí mismo.— ¿Nerviosa, bebé? — Preguntó con voz ronca mientras frotaba con su pulgar la suave piel de su mejilla sintiendo de inmediato como el calor se acumulaba en su palma.— No tienes porque estarlo, estamos aquí para divertirnos ¿no es así?

Y cuando finalmente T/n lo miró a los ojos a pesar de su nerviosismo entendió rápidamente que a Yoongi le gustaba tener un contacto visual con ella, seguramente disfrutando mientras la veía esforzarse para mantener su intensa mirada, porque realmente era así, a Yoongi le gustaba ver cómo su respiración se agitaba cada que estaba cerca y se excitaba terriblemente al verla tan perdida en sus iris oscuros.

— Eso es, buena chica.— Yoongi murmuró por lo bajo al mismo tiempo que deslizaba su pulgar hacia sus labios, acariciando sensualmente su labio inferior, haciéndolo sonreír al verla suspirar de forma temblorosa ante sus caricias.— Eres mi buena chica. De nadie más.

— Yoongi…- T/n hablo a medias, sin saber exactamente si fue un susurro o un gemido ahogado.— N-no…

— ¿No qué? — Yoongi demandó saber con aire de suficiencia.— ¿No quieres que te toque en público?

Y T/n simplemente pudo responder con un pequeño asentimiento, ¿pero le importó a Yoongi? Por supuesto que no, porque colocó su mano disponible sobre su pierna; arrastrandola por su piel desnuda de una forma tan lenta, pulgada a pulgada, las puntas de sus dedos rozaban su piel suavemente haciendo que todo su cuerpo se estremeciera y se removiera sobre el asiento al sentir el frío metálico de sus anillos, y Yoongi volvió a maravillarse con lo receptivo que era su cuerpo a él, solo invitándolo a avanzar.

— Odio decírtelo, bebé, pero me gusta verte temblar cuando te toco.— Yoongi farfulló antes de que la mano que estaba sosteniendo su mejilla se moviera hacia atrás para sostenerla por la parte posterior de su cuello.

Los ojos de T/n se abrieron de repente cuando lo sintió tomar un puñado de su cabello y tirar de su cabeza hacía atras lo suficiente para que su cuello quedara expuesto a él, sin poder lograr ocultar el pequeño gemido que amenzaba con salir de sus labios, y en cambio soltó un sonido lascivo reprimido, solo haciendo que los oídos de Yoongi se animaran en cuando lo escuchó.

Él empujó de su taburete para que estuviera más cerca, y lo logró, su rostro quedó peligrosamente a centímetros de la curva del cuello de T/n quién tembló al sentir su caliente respiración abanicando su piel tan sensible, la repentina proximidad y el ambiente sensual del bar estaban nublando la mente de Yoongi, quería tocarla por completo, quería tener sus manos por todo su cuerpo después de tanto tiempo de bromas, arrepintiéndose internamente de haberla llevado a un bar en lugar de conducir directamente a su casa y poder tenerla para él solo.

Su mano comenzó a jugar con el dobladillo de su falda, casi de forma burlona al principio, y solo haciendo que T/n dejara escapar una respiración temblorosa al sentirlo y rápidamente se apresuró a sostener su muñeca, sin aplicar ninguna presión, pero sí lo suficiente para recordarle su presencia, y al sentirlo los labios de Yoongi se curvaron en una sonrisa, acercándose más a ella para burlarse un poco más de su estado con lo siguiente que dijo.

— ¿Qué pasaría si te meto un dedo en el coño, aquí mismo, ahora mismo? — Ronroreó con esa voz rasposa que T/n tanto amaba contra su oído, los bordes de sus labios eran como fantasmas alrededor de su oreja e inconscientemente su interior se apretó alrededor de la nada, teniendo que morderse la lengua para ocultar un gemido vergonzoso ante sus palabras.

T/n tuvo la tentación de cerrar los ojos para poder perderse en sus sucias fantasías, pero su cerebro le recordó que la gente en el bar podría estar mirando, e inmediatamente su mirada escaneó el lugar en busca de posibles ojos al acecho, pero casi todos estaban borrachos o se ocupaban de sus propios asuntos como si hubieran visto cosas peores.

— Mira mi mano, T/n.— Yoongi ordenó refiriéndose a la mano que descansaba sobre su muslo, y su mirada rápidamente se posó en ella, suspirando de forma agitada al ver lo jodidamente sexy y grande que era, las venas se resaltaban sobre su piel y los anillos solo la hacían temblar y desear poder sentirlos un poco más arriba.

Mierda. T/n podía sentir el cosquilleo aumentando cada vez más entre sus piernas, podía sentir a la perfección la incómoda humedad manchando su ropa interior, solo haciéndola removerse en el asiento cuando sintió a Yoongi meter su mano debajo de su falda, la tela cubrió sus dedos casi por completo y con eso ni siquiera pudo evitar no sacudir sus caderas más hacia su mano levemente; rogando silenciosamente que subiera más, y por supuesto que Yoongi se dio cuenta, permitiéndose sonreír arrogante cuando sus ojos se volvieron a encontrar.

— Sé que quieres sentir mis dedos dentro de ti…— Yoongi susurró con su voz ronca sin dejar de frotar sus dedos en el interior de sus muslos, burlándose de ella cuando la escucho gemir suavemente mientras lo miraba con ojos necesitados.— Sé que quieres que te toque mientras estamos rodeados de toda esta gente.

T/n podía jurar que se estaba poniendo más y más húmeda mientras él seguia hablandole de esa forma en publico, donde existía la posibilidad de que la gente escuchara todo, y ahogó una maldición cuando su dedo índice apenas y rozó su clítoris por encima de la tela de sus bragas, mierda, esto era mucho mejor que estar hablando con él por teléfono.

— ¿Te gustaría eso, bebé? — Yoongi volvió a preguntar, sabiendo ya la respuesta.

Volvió a sonreír de forma arrogante cuando la vio asentir frenéticamente incapaz de articular alguna palabra justo antes de hundir su mano por completo entre sus piernas para presionar sus dedos directamente en su clítoris, haciendo que T/n diera un pequeño brinquito en su lugar y soltara un gemido ahogado ante el impacto del placer que viajó por sus nervios, haciéndolo reír mientras se alejaba por completo de ella; dejándola completamente sonrojada, caliente y sin aliento.

— Oh, mira…— Habló agarrando las dos latas de cerveza frente a ustedes dos antes de agregar con falsa inocencia en su voz.— Ese pobre mesero debió haber visto todo mientras no estábamos prestando atención, ¿no lo crees?

Él abrió una lata para ella, mientras T/n solo podía mirarlo boquiabierta, apenas procesando lo que acababa de pasar, ¿Realmente la estaba dejando así como si nada hubiera pasado?

Pero al contrario de sus pensamientos, Yoongi también estaba teniendo dificultades para controlar su creciente erección debajo de sus jeans, sintiendo como se presionaba más y más contra la tela casi de forma dolorosa, pero disimulando bien mientras se aclaraba la garganta.

— Salud, bebé.— Habló divertido chocando su lata con la de ella; haciendo un 'tintineo' silencioso antes de que su mirada volviera a oscurecerse cuando volvió a mirarla.— Cierra esa boca tuya, T/n. Antes de que le ponga algo que la llene.

Y con eso último T/n no pudo evitar volver a sonrojarse, e hizo todo lo posible por tratar de olvidarse de los que acababa de ocurrir mientras Yoongi comenzaba a tener una conversación normal con ella, pero era difícil tan difícil hacerlo cuando aun podía sentir sus manos sobre ella, y por supuesto que Yoong estaba disfrutando de esto, estaba disfrutando de su tiempo con ella, finalmente solo estaba inmerso en todo lo que tuviera que ver con T/n, sus ojos nunca se apartaban de los de ella y no podía evitar sonreír cada que la veía agachar su mirada avergonzada cuando decía algo lascivo.

A cada segundo que pasaba mas le gustaba estar con ella, le gustaba ver como sus ojos se iluminaban con ese brillo de inocencia cada vez que lo miraba y era como si quisiera que este momento no acabara, pero habia algo que lo regresaba de golpe a la realidad, la unica regla que Delight tenia para cada empleado seguia grabada en su mente, podia sentir como su cuerpo se tensaba cada vez que su consciencia pensaba en esa regla que justo ahora estaba rompiendo, y no sabia como decirle que lo que estaban haciendo en este momento estaba prohibido en su trabajo.

Pero de cierta forma, deseaba que alguien de su trabajo lo viera en este preciso momento, de ser posible su mismo jefe, joder, deseaba que lo despidieran ahora mismo para volver a tener una vida normal, no era un secreto que Yoongi no había tenido una relación seria en mucho tiempo, había tenido una que otra aventura de una sola noche, pero no románticas, eso no era lo suyo, pero ahora que estaba con ella era como si quisiera estar con ella de todas las formas posibles, la deseaba, la quería y la necesitaba y aún no podía entender porque, lo unico que sabía era que nunca había anhelado algo tanto como ahora, como a T/n

— ¿Alguna vez, eh, has hecho esto con alguien más? — T/n preguntó por lo bajo mirándolo de reojo y rompiendo un poco su burbuja de pensamientos.

— ¿A qué te refieres? — Yoongi cuestionó de igual forma, inclinando su cabeza hacia un lado con una sonrisa astuta en su rostro.

— No importa…

— ¿Estás preguntando si alguna vez he salido con alguien? Cariño, si querías saber mi número de citas podrías haberme preguntado…

— ¡No! ¡No es así! Bueno, quiero decir, sí, pero no quería preguntar directamente…— T/n respondió rápidamente sin saber donde esconderse de la vergüenza que sentía por sus palabras.

Y Yoongi simplemente sonrió mientras dejaba escapar una risa ronca antes de elevar su mano para pellizcar su mejilla enrojecida por el alcohol de forma divertida.

— Está bien. ¿Quieres saber si puedo hacer las cosas que te prometí por teléfono, eh? — Habló regresando a su sonrisa arrogante que había tenido todo este tiempo.— No te preocupes, T/n. No soy una estafa.

Y con eso T/n solo pudo morder su labio inferior inconscientemente, sabía que la estaba molestando con sus palabras, pero su mente solo podía actuar por sí sola, imaginando como se sentiria estar debajo de él con su calor cubriendola por completo y su cuerpo presionandose contra ella, sujetándola contra la cama y haciéndola gemir su nombre.

— Pero sinceramente…— Yoongi volvió a hablar, con seriedad ahora, y T/n se preguntó cómo era posible que pudiera pasar de su tono burlón a uno tan serio en un abrir y cerrar de ojos.— No tengo muchas relaciones en estos días, solo me enfoco en el trabajo.

— Oh, ¿entonces no tienes sexo? — T/n preguntó como si nada levantando sus cejas hacia él.

Y Yoongi se contuvo increíblemente de soltar un comentario sarcástico. No quería ir allí todavía.

— ¿Es asunto tuyo, querida? — Respondió con un tono bajo, como si fuera una pequeña advertencia hacia ella.

Y T/n se encogió en su asiento no del todo satisfecha con su respuesta, sabía que no estaba en lugar para saber eso, después de todo, ese era su trabajo, excitar a la gente y llevarlos al orgasmo, y tal vez ella solo había sido afortunada.

— Oye, creo que ese tipo te conoce.— Yoongi habló de repente casi con fastidio mientras miraba un área detrás de ella.

— ¿Qué? ¿Qué chico? — T/n preguntó frunciendo su entrecejo antes de darse la vuelta en su asiento, mirando hacia todos lados, mirando más allá de toda la gente bebiendo y charlando tratando de encontrar una cara familiar hasta que con un movimiento su atención se centró en el mismo chico de hace horas, mirándola con sus ojos abiertos cuando se dio cuenta que lo había notado.

— ¿Quién es ese? — Yoongi preguntó con el mismo tono de voz mientras se removía en su asiento.

— Un chico que conocí en clase antes. Dios, espero que no me esté acosando... oh, aquí viene, ¡Oye, Jungkook! — T/n respondió rápidamente y sorprendiendose cuando lo vio caminar hacia los dos.

— ¡T/n! Me sorprendió verte aquí.— Jungkook habló con una sonrisa en su rostro antes de inclinar su lata de cerveza en dirección a Yoongi.— Con un buen compañero, por lo que veo.

— Así es, ella tiene buen gusto, ¿no lo crees? — Yoongi respondió descaradamente formando una mueca de disgusto antes de tomar otro sorbo de su cerveza, y T/n se apresuró a golpear suavemente su rodilla mientras fingía una risa.

— Espero que no me estés siguiendo, Jungkook.— T/n habló lo más alegre y amigable posible.

— ¡Oh, no, no! Todo es solo una coincidencia. Lo siento si te hice sentir incómoda…

— Bueno, a mi sí me hiciste sentir incómodo mirándola durante demasiado tiempo, Jungkook.— Yoongi volvió a hablar con dureza mientras se ponía de pie antes de tomar la mano T/n y hacerla levantarse también mientras Jungkook observaba todo con una mirada atónita en su rostro.— Nos vamos.

Todo pasó demasiado rápido cuando Yoongi comenzó a caminar por el bar directo hacia la salida que T/n apenas y tuvo tiempo de mirar sobre su hombro y murmurar un pequeño “Lo siento” a Jungkook.

— ¡Yoongi! — T/n habló en medio de un chillido mientras salían del bar, el aire frío de la noche golpeó su cuerpo y la hizo temblar detrás de él.— Eso fue muy grosero…

— Oh, no dirías lo mismo si hubieras visto la forma en que te miraba.— Yoongi se burló sin gracia de sus palabras mientras llegaban a su auto

— ¿De qué hablas? No conozco mucho a Jungkook pero no creo que él…— T/n habló confundida antes de sobresaltarse cuando Yoongi se giró hacia ella de repente; acorralandola contra su auto y cubriendo su cuerpo por completo con el suyo.

— No quiero que ningún otro hombre te mire de la misma forma que yo.

Y con eso T/n ni siquiera tuvo tiempo de procesar sus palabras, porque tan pronto como Yoongi las dijo su cuerpo se presionó con el de ella, juntando sus torsos y estrellando sus labios en un beso teñido de desesperación pura.

Pasionales, fluidos, húmedos, ansiosos.

Esos eran los labios de Min Yoongi mientras se movían sobre los de ella.

T/n no supo descifrar si fue ella, o Yoongi, o ambos los que suspiraron aliviados contra los labios ajenos, pero lo hicieron, y era entendible, después de tantas bromas y de tanto tiempo era de esperarse que reaccionaran así, sus manos se apoyaron en sus anchos hombros y las de él se ajustaron en su cintura, pasándolas por su espalda baja para lograr apretar su cuerpo mas con el suyo haciéndola jadear contra su boca y sentir que sus piernas temblaban, casi amenazando con hacerla caer de rodillas ahí mismo de no ser porque Yoongi la apoyó contra su auto mientras su lengua ávida acariciaba su labio inferior en pequeños toques, y cuando T/n entreabrió sus labios Yoongi se apresuró a insertar su lengua en la de ella, haciéndolo gemir roncamente y a ella jadear completamente abrumada, sus grandes manos estaban por todo su cuerpo, acariciando cada porción de piel a su disposición y queriendo abarcar todo de ella en menor tiempo posible; apretó su cintura, acarició sus mejillas, sus brazos, clavó sus dedos en sus muslos y enganchó una mano en el interior de su rodilla, elevando su pierna y haciendo que rodeara su cintura con ella.

El chasquido casi obseno de sus lenguas la hicieron temblar entre sus manos y no supo descrifrar si fue por una rafaga de viento o porque estaba increíblemente excitada a este punto, ahí en medio del estacionamiento los dos eran un lío de manos, saliva, lenguas y respiraciones densas.

Una de las manos de Yoongi se había ajustado a su cuello para no dejarle escapatoria, cuando él sabia muy bien que no iba a huir, las de T/n se trasladaron a la parte trasera de su cabeza donde enredó sus dedos en su cabello negro y rebelde; apretándose más contra él y escuchando un quejido gutural salir de sus labios antes de sentirlo envolver un brazo en su cintura para apretar su pelvis contra la de ella sin desantender sus húmedos besos, y en esta oportunidad, ambos soltaron un quejido al unisono sobre la boca del otro antes de tomarla por sus mejillas y separarse de ella, tirando un poco de su labio inferior en el proceso.

— Dios…— T/n jadeó entrecortado apenas separándose levemente de él, sintiéndose un tanto aturdida por la falta de aire y ahí Yoongi abrió sus ojos mientras suspiraba pesadamente cuando tuvo una vista exclusiva de sus pupilas dilatadas, sus mejillas rojas y de sus labios hinchados y resbaladizos con su saliva.

La mano de Yoongi se elevó para tomarla por el mentón con firmeza y sonreír de lado, inclinándose sobre ella para rozar sus labios de los cuales salían exhalación tras exhalación caliente.

— No, soy Min Yoongi.— Decretó de forma engreída apoyándose sobre la puerta de su auto con la otra mano, buscando presionarse mas contra ella como si eso fuera posible.

T/n negó con su cabeza sin evitar sonreír ante sus palabras dándose cuenta de lo bien que encajaban sus cuerpos juntos y del abrumador calor que la inundaba por completo.— Eres un presumido.

— Tengo cosas para presumir, así que puedo hacerlo bebé…— Yoongi explicó con altanería acompañando sus palabras con un certero empuje de caderas contra ella, presionando su erección en su vientre bajo y haciendo que su espalda chocara contra la puerta; arrancándole un quejido ahogado que emergió de sus labios.

Sin pensarlo mucho los labios de Yoongi volvieron a unirse a los de ella, sabiendo muy bien que tarde o temprano siempre volvería a caer en ellos, eran como una de las peores drogas, de esas que solo te bastaba probarlas una sola vez para querer más y más, y se encargó de devorar su boca con la suya, sus labios se abrieron para darle paso una vez más a que deslizara su lengua y que pudiera explorarla como tanto ansiaba, las manos de T/n se sostuvieron de sus hombros y el rodeó su cintura con su brazo, pegándose a ella por inercia.

La necesitaba tanto, necesitaba descargar todo lo que había contenido por días, necesitaba perderse en ella como había imaginado una y otra vez, en sus sueños, e incluso despierto.

El corazón de T/n latía con desenfreno en su pecho y la temperatura en su cuerpo se elevó con facilidad, pero simplemente no podía luchar contra la forma en que su cuerpo respondía a cada uno de los toques de Yoongi, en cómo sus lenguas se entrelazaban con afán la una con la otra, e internamente agradecía el hecho de que no hubiera gente donde estaban, y se lo hizo saber cuando movió sus caderas hacia él; restregandose suavemente contra su pelvis y contra la dura erección que podía sentir a través de sus ropas, solo ganándose que Yoongi gruñera sobre sus labios mientras apretaba el agarre en su cintura, arrepintiéndose casi al instante de su acto cuando lo sintió deslizar sus labios hambrientos por su mejilla y su mentón, hasta llegar a la curvatura de su cuello donde comenzó a besar y lamer su piel cuanto quiso.

— Yoongi…— T/n musitó con un hilo de voz, sus manos se engancharon en su cabello, disfrutando por completo de la calidez de su aliento y la humedad de su boca, mordiéndose el labio cuando lo sintió encontrar ese punto dulce detrás de su oreja que ni siquiera sabía que tenía, dejando rastros húmedos de besos hacia abajo, para luego volver a subir y dispersarlos por toda su piel, y era plenamente consciente de la forma de la humedad en sus bragas aumentando cada vez más.— ¿Vamos a tu casa o a la mía?

Y por supuesto, Yoongi ignoró su pregunta por completo, cada nervio de su cuerpo estaba monopolizado con un apetito sexual que nunca antes había sentido y que solo era potenciado por la forma en que T/n se escuchaba a sus oídos, tan sensual y dulce al mismo tiempo, y toda su mente se quedó en blanco con lo siguiente que escuchó.

— Señor, por favor… te necesito tanto.— T/n lloriqueo por lo bajo mientras empujaba sus caderas hacia él un poco más fuerte esta vez, haciéndolo consciente de la necesidad latente entre sus piernas, buscando de nueva cuenta sus labios para depositar cortos y repetitivos besos sobre ellos, sintiendo sus mejillas arder aún más al ser consciente de la forma en que lo había llamado.

No sabía si era buena o mala señal que Yoongi se hubiera quedado estático ante sus palabras, pero tampoco podía pensar mucho en eso, no cuando su todo su cuerpo estaba ardiendo en calor, y cuando hizo un nuevo intento por mover sus caderas hacia él una de sus manos se apretó en su cintura, manteniendo su cuerpo quieto cuando sus ojos se encontraron con los de él y ni siquiera pudo evitar no temblar en su lugar cuando notó su mirada oscura antes de sentir como la tomaba por el mentón con fuerza.

— Sube al maldito auto. Ahora.— Ordenó con su voz ronca y con su mandíbula tensa, su pecho subía y bajaba en respiraciones tranquilas, como si estuviera haciendo un inútil intento de controlarse sin dejar de mirarla y solo aumentando la excitación en ella, quería estar tranquilo, pero el bulto en su entrepierna revelaba que no lo estaba y menos pudo ocultarlo cuando la vio relamer sus labios y sonreírle con descaro antes de asentir levemente; como si fuera una niña que acababa de conseguir lo que quería.

Bueno, tal vez debería quitarle esa actitud.

El viaje a la casa de Yoongi estuvo lleno de tensión y T/n simplemente no podía entender cómo era que se había contenido de lanzarsele encima para besar su cuello, pero decidió no hacerlo porque era un peligro para la seguridad, además de que él había tomado alcohol, pero Yoongi le había dicho que tenía una alta tolerancia y que la cerveza no le afectaba en absoluto, aún desconfiaba un poco. 

Y además, todo era mejor cuando había un poco de tensión.

Cuando llegaron a su departamento T/n quedó sorprendida con lo monocromático que era todo, pero lo estuvo aún más cuando se dio cuenta que cada rincón del lugar estaba lleno con el aroma de Yoongi, esa colonia que la había hecho suspirar más de una vez en lo que iba de la noche y que ahora se colaba por su nariz como si se tratara de un afrodisiaco, solo alimentando más su deseo por él, y ahora que estaba en su casa esa sensación se había duplicado diez veces más.  

— No t-tienes…— T/n balbuceó de a poco, queriendo abofetearse por tartamudear cuando lo miró recargado sobre el marco de la puerta; inspeccionando su cuerpo de arriba abajo, y fue suficiente para que su mente se quedara en blanco.

Yoongi dio unos pasos más cerca de ella, llegando hasta donde estaba para quitar su bolso de su hombro y dejarlo car al suelo con un ruido sordo.— ¿Mhm? ¿Estabas diciendo?

Su voz se había vuelto mucho más profunda, más relajada, y era un tono que la hacía querer derretirse frente a él, obligándola a tomar una respiración profunda antes de hablar. 

— ¿No tienes trabajo o algo así? — T/n preguntó por lo bajo, pensando que tal vez su línea estaba abierta y tenía clientes esperándolo. 

 Las manos de Yoongi serpentearon por sus brazos con calma hasta llegar a sus caderas, colando una de sus manos debajo de su blusa, lo suficiente para tener contacto directo con su cintura donde frotó su piel en lentas caricias; enviándole pequeñas ondas de calor por todo su cuerpo y haciéndolo sonreír cuando la vio suspirar suavemente y relajarse de a poco, su otra mano jugó con un mechón suelto de su cabello antes de curvarlo detrás de su oreja y responder con su voz una octava más abajo de lo usual.

— No. Estoy trabajando contigo esta noche.

Y tan pronto como dijo eso, guiado por el frenesí del momento, sus labios volvieron a chocar contra los de ella una y otra vez, su mano mantenía el agarre en su mentón y Yoongi se encargó de devorar su boca como si se tratara de un hombre hambriento de ella y anhelante de su sabor, y T/n apenas y podía seguir su ritmo tan demandante sobre sus labios, dejándose caer sobre una pared detrás de ella que, para empezar, ni siquiera sabía que estaba ahí, pero a la que que Yoongi pareció guiarla desde el principio sin que se diera cuenta. 

Una especie de ronroneo se derritió a través de su boca al sentir su luengua jugando con la de ella y todo el deseo aumentó de sobremanera cuando sus lenguas chocaron entre sí, casi dejandola sin aliento y derritiéndose por completo al escuchar los gruñidos de Yoongi contra su boca, había soñado tanto con esto, había reprimido todo lo que sentía, y ahora todo finalmente estaba cobrando vida y sólo queria hacer todo lo que alguna vez le había prometido por telefono. 

En un arrebato Yoongi guió su agarre a su nuca para mantenerla quieta, y T/n olvidándose de cualquier rastro de pudor enredó una de sus piernas en su cintura sosteniéndose con la otra una vez más, un nuevo gemido ahogado escapó de sus labios cuando Yoongi movió su pelvis contra ella, frotándose en un toque apenas perceptible pero a la vez notorio que le hizo saber de la dureza que estaba encerrada en sus pantalones, sus lenguas se enredaban con afán y todo el cuerpo de T/n tembló cuando sintió a Yoongi tomar su lengua entre sus labios, succionandola con suavidad una y otra vez, haciéndola gemir suavemente y aferrarse a él con más fuerza, moviendo sus caderas de igual forma, frotándose el uno con el otro y sólo aumentando el calor en sus cuerpos casi de forma alarmante. 

Y cuando Yoongi soltó su lengua con lentitud ignoró el hilo de saliva que colgaba entre sus bocas, solo enfocándose en la belleza y el placer en todo su rostro en su máxima expresión. 

— Estás segura, ¿verdad? — Yoongi preguntó poco después, con su voz ronca y su respiración agitada sin dejar de mirar sus labios hinchados y rojizos mientras se encargaba de acariciar su pierna suavemente en movimientos ascendentes y descendentes. 

T/n lo miró con sus ojos muy abiertos mientras respirando por la boca y con la esperanza de que le hiciera saber de su necesidad de manera no verbal cuando movió sus caderas sutilmente hacia él, en una clara invitación. 

Pero Yoongi no quería eso, él quería escuchar sus palabras, quería escucharla pedir por él, y se dio cuenta de eso un poco más tarde. 

— Sí, señor…— Respondió en un murmullo entrecortado mientras deslizaba sus manos por su pecho que bajaba y subía en densas respiraciones hasta llegar a su desordenado cabello, acercándose a él para darle un delicado beso, apenas perceptible antes de continuar.— Lo quiero tanto…

Y con eso Yoongi se permitió sonreír ladinamente, hundiendo su rostro en la curva de su cuello y haciéndose espacio para sumergir sus labios en su piel y comenzar a salpicar besos húmedos por toda la zona, ensanchando su sonrisa cuando la escuchó jadear y estirar su cuello para darle más espacio.

— No te preocupes, seré amable…— Yoongi masculló contra su piel, frotando su la punta de su nariz contra su oreja, vertiendo su aliento agitado y caliente sobre ella antes de subir y encontrarse con sus ojos y pupilas dilatadas una vez más, y sonreír con lo siguiente que dijo.— Por ahora…

Lo único que T/n pudo atinar a hacer fue soltar un quejido cuando sintió a Yoongi agacharse lo suficiente para tomarla por su trasero con seguridad y alzar su cuerpo en el aire de un salto, haciéndola soltar una risita vergonzosa a la vez que envolvía sus piernas en su cintura y sujetarse de sus hombros antes de que despegara su cuerpo de la pared para comenzar a caminar hacia su habitación, y a pesar de saber el destino, se dejó envolver por sus labios suaves y dulces una vez más.

Las manos de Yoongi subieron por su espalda baja, y despegando momentáneamente sus bocas que seguían devorándose como si no hubiera un mañana, depositó su cuerpo con suavidad sobre el colchón de su cama, todo lo estaba haciendo con suma delicadeza, y T/n no sabia si era para disfrutar más el momento o para alargarlo. Las dos opciones le parecían perfectas.

El cuerpo de T/n se hundió en las sabanas y junto sus piernas frotandolas pausadamente la una con la otra, formando una pequeña sonrisa cuando vio a Yoongi deshacerse de la chamarra de cuero y cuando pensó que también se quitara su camisa, su mano grande y caliente separó sus piernas para hacerse su debido espacio entre ellas, hincando sus rodillas en la cama y acarició sus piernas desnudas con calma antes de subir al borde de su blusa, el cual tomó para tirar hacia arriba y T/n le ayudó estirando sus brazos para quitarse la prenda por completo.

La mirada de Yoongi oscureció aún mas cuando le dio un repaso a todo su cuerpo y ni siquiera pudo luchar contra el destello de timidez que la atravesó, e intentó cerrar sus piernas para cubrirse aunque sea un poco, pero antes de que pudiera hacerlo Yoongi la sujeto por su cuello, elevando su cabeza hacia él para volver a besarla.

Dieron inicio a una nueva sesión de besos desesperados por parte de ambos, dejando que sus lenguas volvieran a unirse una vez más, todo su cuerpo ancho y fornido se presionó contra el de ella y T/n dejó que un gemido saliera de su boca mientras sus manos se pasaban por su cabello para demostrarle cuan a gusto estaba, y Yoongi soltó una especie de ronroneo mientras chupaba su labio inferior, dejándolo ir con un chasquido húmedo antes de que una de sus manos se deslizara por su torso, acariciando con calma la piel que tenía a su disposición, sintiendo el cuerpo de T/n temblar y agitarse debajo de él cuando frotó su pulgar contra uno de sus pezones endurecido, aún por encima de su sostén y solo logrando que soltara un débil gimoteo.

— Quiero besarte entera.— Yoongi murmuró con su voz ronca sobre su boca y T/n supo que hablaba realmente en serio cuando sus labios bajaron por su mentón hasta llegar a su cuello para besarlo todas las veces que quiso; marcando un camino de saliva desde la curva hasta sus clavículas repitiendo esa operación una y otra vez mientras el agarre en sus senos se apretaba suavemente, tarareando de gusto mientras masajeaba uno por uno; dándoles la misma atención a ambos y un pequeño gemido salió de los labios de T/n cuando lo sintió atrapar el lóbulo de su oreja para succionarlo con ansia haciéndolo sonreír ladinamente cuando se separó un poco de ella; notando su cuello marcado y mojado por él, y la simple vista lo hizo trasladar sus manos hacia su espalda y soltar el broche de su sostén en un rápido movimiento encontrándose con sus ojos.— Quiero saber cuan dulce sabes.

Y con eso último T/n ni siquiera tuvo tiempo para reprochar porque en un santiamén los bonitos labios de Yoongi se envolvieron alrededor de uno de sus senos, tomando un gran bocado de su piel y comenzando a repartir besos húmedos en toda la zona, su lengua se movía con maestría y jugaba con su pezón tan lenta y dolorosamente que solo hizo que T/n soltara un fuerte gemido al sentirlo, su caliente respiración erizaba su piel y sus manos viajaron a su espeso cabello para tirar de las hebras sin mucha fuerza antes de arquear su espalda hacía su boca, y él gustoso aceptó el ofrecimiento, gruñendo guturalmente sobre su piel antes de elevar sus manos hacia sus senos; acunando ambos con sus palmas y apretandolos suavemente justo antes de su lengua saliera para lamer sus pezones uno por uno, intercalando entre ellos mientras la miraba con su vista nublada por sus dulces expresiones de placer.

— Yoongi…— T/n maullo sin aliento sintiendo sus besos seguir bajando por su vientre, cubriendo cada porción de piel a su alcance y todo su cuerpo se tensó cuando sin darse cuenta sus manos se encontraron con el inicio de su falda tirando de ella hacia abajo por sus piernas, dejándola demasiado embelesada con sus dedos tocando sus muslos para darse cuenta que se había llevado consigo sus bragas, sino que fue hasta que sintió un repentino escalofrío recorrer su cuerpo y su centro húmedo que se dio cuenta que estaba desnuda frente a él.

Cuando quiso hacer amague por cubrirse solo atino a lloriquear por lo bajo cuando Yoongi se alejó de su cuerpo rápidamente, enderezando su espalda y clavando sus rodillas en la cama para quitarse la camisa por su cabeza y los ojos de T/n se perdieron en su piel blanquecina, en las líneas de sus músculos; desde sus bíceps hasta sus pectorales que subían y bajaban en respiraciones acompasadas, todo su cabello caía sobre su rostro y cuando se lo echó hacia atrás, casi tuvo que obligarse a sí misma a no jadear ante la simple imagen, y por supuesto que su mirada no pasó desapercibida por Yoongi, quien formó una sonrisita arrogante mientras sus manos viajaban hacia el botón de su pantalón, desabrochándolo con calma mientras sus ojos seguían cada uno de sus movimientos.

— ¿Estás esperando una invitación? — Yoongi farfulló bajandose de un solo tiron sus pantalones hasta la mitad de sus muslos, quedando sólo en unos boxer color negro que enmarcaban a la perfección el contorno de su dura y tensa erección atrapada en ellos, su mirada subió a su rostro y sonrió con malicia cuando notó su mirada confundida.

Su cuerpo volvió a inclinarse sobre el de ella, la boca de T/n fue sellada una vez más con sus labios, chocandolos de manera repentina en un demandante y posesivo beso, tomando el mando y ladeando su cabeza con vehemencia, succionando su labio inferior y solo ganándose un adorable quejido cuando se alejó de ella dándole un sutil tironcito.

— Tócate, cariño.— Yoongi murmuró sin dejar de mirarla con ojos oscuros, como si se tratara de una fiera; a punto de devorarla por completo.— Tócate como lo hacías cada que vez que escuchabas mi voz. Quiero verte.

Y ante eso T/n ni siquiera pudo luchar contra la bruma de vergüenza que sintió con sus palabras, y cuando elevó su mirada hacia él todo su cuerpo tembló cuando se encontró con sus ojos nublados en lujuria mirándola con atención y que solo la hicieron obedecer sus palabras, su mano se movió precaria por sus muslos hasta llegar a su entrepierna y un suspiro agitado salió de sus labios cuando sus dedos entraron en contacto con su clítoris, tocándose con cuidado y comenzando a estimularse con suavidad recordando todo lo que alguna vez llegaron a hablar por teléfono y solo haciéndola gemir y mover sus dedos más rápido sobre su botón de placer, cerrando los ojos con fuerza un tanto por el placer que sentía recorrer cada rincón de su cuerpo y otro poco para intentar esconderse de su intensa mirada.

— No sabes cuantas veces te imagine así…— Yoongi susurró con voz ronca contra su oído viendo su cuerpo temblar y mover su mano más fuerte sobre su entrepierna haciéndolo sonreír antes de acariciar su mejilla con su mano, viéndola jadear ante otro movimiento y aprovechó eso para meter dos de sus dedos dentro de su boca, sus pestañas se desplegaron hacia él y una sonrisa se formó en su rostro cuando sintió su lengua comenzar a chuparlos una y otra vez.— Te ves tan jodidamente bonita tocándote, bebé.

Y tan pronto como dijo aquello sus dedos dejaron su boca en un chasquido húmedo y obsceno, deslizandolos por su cuerpo y marcando un camino de humedad hasta que llegó al centro de sus piernas, quitando su mano en un rápido movimiento para reemplazarla con la suya propia, y en un abrir y cerrar de ojos, sus dedos se presionaron con fuerza contra su clítoris y el destello de placer la hizo soltar un fuerte gemido; frunciendo sus manos en las sábanas y tirando de ellas mientras sus caderas se movían hacia sus dedos.

— Shh, shh, déjame cuidarte…— Yoongi arrulló apretando su mandíbula al mismo tiempo que movía sus dedos en círculos suaves sobre su pequeño clítoris, escuchándola gemir en cada movimiento, y aún más cuando presionó suavemente la punta de su dedo contra su entrada un par de veces antes de volver a subir lentamente y frotar su punto de placer, sonriendo al verla dejar caer su cabeza sobre la almohada en puro placer junto a un adorable gemido que coreó toda su habitación, haciéndolo sonreír antes de deslizarse por su cuerpo hasta que su respiración abanicó su entrada y que su boca se envolvió alrededor de su clítoris reemplazando sus dedos y haciéndola gemir con fuerza.

Todos los sentidos de T/n estaban al mil, apenas recuperandose de sentir sus dedos en ella cuando de un momento ya tenía su boca entre sus piernas, su cabello negro le cubria ligeramente sus ojos y su lengua se deslizaba entre sus pliegues húmedos de arriba a abajo una y otra vez antes de chupar y succionar su clítoris como un hombre hambriento, sujetando sus piernas con fuerza y gruñendo una maldición contra su piel mientras su sabor llenaba todos sus sentidos sólo haciéndolo tomar todo lo que pudiera de ella, llenando el espacio con sonidos húmedos y lascivos, ahí descubrió que Yoongi no solo sabía usar su boca para hablar sucio, sino que tambien era muy bueno oralmente e imaginó que él estaba orgulloso de lo que su lengua podía hacer, en todas las formas posibles.

Podía sentir el nudo en su vientre apretándose cada vez más; anunciando su pronto orgasmo, los gruñidos de Yoongi contra su entrada sensible solo enviaban ondas de placer por cada nervio empujándola más y más al borde del éxtasis, su nombre comenzó a brotar de sus labios en jadeos entrecortados como si se tratara de un mantra, pero Yoongi no la escuchó, él ignoró por completo la forma en que sus manos tiraban de su cabello y el sonido de su respiración laboriosa, solo se concentró en sus caderas moviéndose contra su boca, haciendo que su lengua jugara con clítoris haciéndola sentir un placer tan abrumador, que cuando sus piernas temblaron a cada lado de su cabeza y cuando orgasmo la inundó de repente solo pudo cerrar los ojos con fuerza y lloriquear por el placer al rojo vivo en cada parte de su cuerpo mientras se removía contra el firme agarre de Yoongi, sintiéndolo lamerla sin querer desperdiciar ni una sola gota de su orgasmo.

— Maldición, hubiera hecho esto mucho antes de saber que sabias tan delicioso.— Yoongi murmuró en una sonrisita y relamiéndose los labios, todavía degustando su sabor en su lengua mientras volvía a subir por su cuerpo, encontrándose con sus ojos entrecerrados y su respiración acelerada.— Oh bebé, ¿Estás cansada? ¿Quieres parar…?

— No, no…— T/n se apresuró a responder apenas saliendo de su bruma de placer, sintiendo todo su cuerpo arder aún más que al principio.— Te necesito…

— ¿Me necesitas? — preguntó con voz ronca, acunando su mejilla con una de sus manos y acariciando suavemente su piel.

— Si, por favor Yoongi, fóllame…— T/n pidió por lo bajo, apoyándose en su toque y mirándolo con ojos necesitados, notando como su rostro se deformaba en una mueca que no supo descifrar del todo.

— Podría lastimarte…— Yoongi murmuró más bajo esta vez, temiendo que realmente pudiera hacer eso.

— Entonces hazme daño, no me importa, solo…— T/n volvió a pedir por él antes de hacer una pausa y elevar su mano para frotarla suavemente contra el bulto en su boxer, sintiendo la longitud y dureza de su miembro palpitar en su mano, elevando su vista hacia el y verlo morderse el labio ante sus movimientos; dándole la última pizca de seguridad.— Por favor…

Y Yoongi simplemente no pudo evitar sonreír al escucharla, suspirando pesadamente al sentirla trasladar sus caricias hacia la punta de su pene e hizo todo lo posible por no mandar todo a la mierda y castigarla ahí mismo por su pequeño y astuto movimiento sobre él, estaba demasiado excitado para que fuera real, eso era cierto, así que verla pedir por él, con ese tono de voz tan dócil que siempre le había encantado solo hacia que su deseo por ella aumentara, casi al punto de ser doloroso y cuando volvió a mirarla algo oscuro comenzó a nadar en sus ojos.

— Hazlo mejor.— Yoongi habló poco después, trasladando su mano hacia abajo para envolver sus dedos alrededor de su cuello con la cantidad perfecta de presión, viéndola parpadear hacia él y respirar agitadamente.— Muéstrame lo buena chica que eres y súplica apropiadamente.

— Señor, por favor fóllame…— T/n respondió en un pequeño jadeo sumiso y necesitado cuando la mano de Yoongi aplicó más presión en su cuello, haciéndola agitarse y mover sus caderas hacia él en una muda invitación, completamente desesperada por sentirlo.— Por favor, lo necesito tanto…

Y antes de que pudiera decir algo más, lo labios de Yoongi volvieron a estamparse con los de ella, esta vez con una voracidad duplicada, T/n reprimió un gemido cuando la lengua contraria no espero ni un segundo en salir en busca de la suya, acariciando con la punta todo lo que estaba a su paso y arrancándole cada uno de sus suspiros en busca de aire, sus grandes manos recorrieron todo su cuerpo con dureza; como si quisiera memorizar cada curva de él, sintiendo su piel estremecerse con anticipación y haciéndola soltar un gemido ahogado cuando sintió la punta de su pene deslizarse entre los pliegues de su entrada y rozar suavemente su clítoris sin saber muy bien en qué momento se había desnudado, pero tampoco pudo pensar demasiado en eso cuando su pelvis comenzó a moverse contra ella, creando una deliciosa fricción entre sus intimidades, sintiéndolo tan grande y pesado presionando contra ella haciéndola acompañar sus movimientos con sus caderas, solo para escucharlo gruñir contra su boca mientras volvía a besarla un par de veces más antes de separarse escuchandola jadear de disgusto.

Yoongi podía sentir sus ojos seguirlo cuando alcanzó el cajón de la mesa de noche, del cual tomó un condón con rapidez, obligándose a respirar para intentar controlarse cuando regresó su vista de nuevo hacia ella, pero era prácticamente imposible hacerlo con la imagen de su cuerpo desnudo y su cabello alborotado que le gritaban que la tomara a como diera lugar, sus constantes jadeos no eran de mucha ayuda tampoco, pero tenía que mantener la cabeza en calma, por ella.

Sus manos se engancharon en el interior de sus rodillas, tirando de su cuerpo hacia él sobre las sábanas, sonriendo al escucharla reír levemente, y se apresuró a rasgar un costado de la envoltura y sacar el condón para deslizarlo por lo largo de su erección, y T/n ni siquiera pudo evitar no relamerse los labios ante la imagen; haciéndola estirar su mano para rodear la base de su miembro duro a lo alto, haciéndolo gruñir guturalmente cuando movió su mano de arriba a abajo, los músculos de Yoongi se endurecieron ante la estimulación y a T/n no pudo gustarle más la imagen de él, le gustaba ver su cabello enloquecido, le gustaba ver sus abdominales marcados por la excitación, le gustaba ver el sudor correr por sus sienes, sus labios hinchados y rojos, le gustaba escuchar su voz ronca y ver su miembro duro por ella.

Su revelación se vio interrumpida cuando de un movimiento, Yoongi se acomodó mejor entre sus piernas, haciendo que soltara el agarre en su erección palpitante, sus manos tomaron sus muñecas y con firmeza a cada lado de su cabeza y sus ojos se conectaron, transmitiendole todo el júbilo y el deseo que parecía sentir y un jadeo tembloroso la abandonó cuando sintió la punta de su pene rozar su abertura; solicitando su debida entrada con cuidado.

La expectativa se acumuló en su estómago cuando Yoongi se acercó a su rostro, tocando su nariz con la de ella suavemente antes de besar el puente de la misma, y T/n no podía entender cómo podía sentirse tanta dulzura y deseo al mismo tiempo, pero Yoongi parecía hacerlo posible con su beso esquimal y su longitud apretándose contra ella al mismo tiempo.

No supo en qué momento soltó sus muñecas pero se dio cuenta cuando comenzó a hundirse dentro de ella con lentitud, las manos de T/n salieron disparadas a su espalda y reprimió un gemido de dolor al sentirlo, todo su cuerpo estaba temblando y trató de concentrarse en los ojos de Yoongi quién estaba estático y que la miraban con atención, como si estuviera estudiando su rostro, se veía preocupado y parecía estar sufriendo en el fondo por controlarse, y otro quejido salió de sus labios al sentirlo volver a presionarse mientras ella luchaba por tomar su circunferencia.

— Ah, Yoongi, d-duele…— T/n lloriqueo por lo bajo, tensando su cuerpo y tirando de las sabanas con fuerza, Yoongi era más grande de lo que esperaba, y la punta de su pene ni siquiera estaba del todo adentro.

— Shh, lo sé, cariño. Pero tienes que ser una buena chica y relajarte para mí o de lo contrario nos detendremos aqui.—Yoongi susurró apretando su mandíbula de la misma forma antes de morder su labio inferior y empujarse un poco más, deslizándose paulatinamente, centímetro a centímetro hasta llenarla por completo y T/n volvió a cerrar sus ojos gimiendo con fuerza; sintiendo como Yoongi volvía a quedarse inmovil, dejando que se amoldara a su longitud ahora más caliente que nunca.

Sus labios fueron rápidos en amortiguar otro nuevo gemido quejumbroso de T/n, tomando su boca con la suya en una nueva oportunidad, una de sus manos se movió hacia su mentón donde acarició suavemente su labio inferior con su pulgar que cuando la vio jadear ante un sutil movimiento dentro de ella; metió su dedo en su boca, haciéndolo suspirar cuando sintió su lengua envolverse alrededor de su dedo y cubrirlo con su saliva.

— Eres muy hermosa, T/n. Muy hermosa..— Yoongi arrulló suavemente y ella abrió sus ojos ante sus palabras, encontrándose con su mandíbula marcada y sus labios entreabiertos; mirándolo sin dejar de chupar su dedo y dejando escapar un gemido amortiguado cuando movió sus caderas hacia él, en un muda invitación a que continuara, el dolor estaba siendo reemplazado por un peculiar ardor y cuando sintió que Yoongi estaba a punto de retirarse por completo de repente volvió a hundirse dentro de ella hasta tocar fondo.

Repitió esa acción una y otra vez, moviéndose dentro de ella con toda la calma del mundo, no entrecortado, sino que se deslizaba con una exquisita facilidad y T/n se dejó relajar debajo de él; intentando acompañar sus movimientos con sus caderas sintiendo como todo el placer comenzaba a consumir todos sus sentidos.

— ¿Se siente bien así? — Yoongi preguntó con su voz ahogada aún conteniendose y comenzando a marcar un ritmo lento y superficial, apretando su mandíbula y luchando por mantener el control.

— Mhm-hu… sigue Yoongi, sigue…— T/n gimió dulcemente esas palabras, rodeando su cintura con sus piernas aferrándose con fuerza a él, todo su cuerpo se agitó cuando sintió a Yoongi deslizarse hacia afuera y antes de salirse por completo la penetró en una firme estocada que la hizo retorcerse debajo de su cuerpo.— Oh, Dios…

— No, soy Min Yoongi.— Repitió socarron esas mismas palabras que había dicho antes ajustando sus manos en su cintura para darle estabilidad a sus nuevas penetraciones que se volvían mas firmes y acompasadas; empujando su cuerpo una y otra vez sobre la cama.

— Deja de decir eso, creo que se te esta subiendo a la cabeza.— T/n quiso amonestarlo pero lo terminó diciendo en medio de una sonrisa delicada que rápidamente se deformó en una mueca de placer al recibir otra rotunda embestida haciéndola arquear su espalda hacia él.

— Eres la única con la que me siento especial, T/n.— Yoongi murmuró acercándose nuevamente hacia su rostro, sosteniendo su mirada y T/n se sintió más que capaz de devolvérsela, los dos estaban igual de sumergidos en lo que sea que fuera esto, sabiendo muy bien que él también se había vuelto la única persona con la cual podía sentirse especial.

Un nuevo gemido brotó de los labios de ambos ante otra profunda penetración, los movimientos de Yoongi eran exactos y precisos, iban tomando cada segundo un ápice más de velocidad y T/n no podía hacer más que gimotear con cada nueva embestida que tocaba aquel punto especial dentro de ella, y es que todo era tan nuevo, tanto placer que no podía sostenerlo ella sola por mucho tiempo mas, todo el juego previo la había consumido, sus manos ansiosas subieron por su pecho hasta llegar a su cabello y jaló de él intentando llegar a sus labios y el mayor se dejó hacer, tomando una vez más el control del beso, mordiendo chupando su labio inferior, sus jadeos combinados con los de él junto a sus repetitivas penetraciones dentro y fuera parecían ser un impedimento para mantener sus labios unidos, pero no les importó.

T/n se sentía drogada, flotando en una nube de placer donde ni siquiera el sudor acumulandose su frente ni el calor abrumador que los envolvía se comparaban al placer latente que sentía en cada parte de su cuerpo, Yoongi se sentía tan bien dentro de ella, su pene la llenaba tan bien y tocaba todos los puntos correctos que solo la hacían gemir entre cada embestida, sus pieles ardían con cada bombeo constante mientras él seguía con sus duras embestidas que sacudían su cuerpo y que hacían que la cabecera de la cama chocara contra la pared una y otra vez, sintió a Yoongi apartar los mechones húmedos de su cabello fuera de su rostro antes de que su boca caliente volviera a devorarla con besos húmedos, comiéndose sus gemidos sin dejar de deslizarse dentro de ella cada vez más fuerte y salvaje, y es que él no estaba mejor que ella.

Estaba cerca, el inminente orgasmo estaba tocando la puerta, pidiendo salir cuando el cosquilleo y las vibraciones de su cuerpo hacían que sus estocadas se volvieran inestables y torpes, no podían culparlo, Yoongi simplemente no podía apartar la mirada de ella, de su cuerpo desnudo y cubierto de sudor debajo de él, de su rostro sonrojado, sus cejas fruncidas y sus labios entreabiertos dando bocanadas de aire entre cada beso hambriento y desesperado que le daba, podía sentir su interior apretándose imponente a su alrededor, podía sentir su cuerpo temblar con cada golpe de su pelvis dentro de ella. Habían estado sedientos durante semanas el uno por el otro, y sabía que se merecía esto y mucho más.

— Yoongi, estoy a punto de…— T/n lloriqueo cerrando sus ojos y apoyando su frente contra su hombro, abrazando su espalda y buscando un punto de apoyo sintiendo como el placer se volvió demasiado para su cuerpo.

— Si, bebé. Yo también. Córrete para mí, vamos…— Yoongi murmuró contra su oreja, dejando un rápido beso mientras aumentaba la velocidad de sus movimientos para alcanzar su placer también.

Y esa luz verde de su voz ronca y ansiosa fue suficiente para empujarla por completo a su orgasmo en medio de un fuerte y agudo gemido; sus piernas temblaron y su interior se apretó con fuerza contra su pene, jadeando ante la sensación tan deliciosa y placentera que llenó sus ojos de lágrimas mientras se aferraba a él con fuerza. A Yoongi solo le basbastaron otras tres penetraciones duras y profundas para derramarse dentro de ella; soltando una maldición entre dientes contra su cuello y un gemido aireado antes de dejarse caer sobre ella llenando el espacio solo con sus respiraciones densas y aceleradas mezclándose entre sí.

Con sus palpitaciones al mil y completamente jadeantes Yoongi trazó un camino de pequeños besos desde el hombro de T/n hacía arriba; pasando por su cuello, mejillas, hasta llegar a su boca, la punta de su lengua delineo sus labios para después soltar una sonrisa que se confundía con dulzura y travesura.

— Buena niña.— Farfulló divertido ensanchando su sonrisa al verla apartar su mirada de él completamente avergonzada, sin perder detalle de lo hermosa que lucía, incluso luego de su orgasmo, toda desalineada, jadeante y sonrojada, se veía preciosa a su ojos, y fue ese mismo descubrimiento el que lo hizo volver a buscar sus labios, más lento y suave esta vez solo para permitirse degustar su sabor una vez más.

El pequeño instante de paz fue abruptamente interrumpido con el sonido repentino y alarmante de un teléfono que se escuchó en la habitación; asustandola y haciéndola separarse de sus labios solo para ver a Yoongi apretar su mandíbula y murmurar una maldición mientras se separaba de ella haciéndola apretar sus labios ante su ausencia, y seguir sus movimientos mientras se recostaba a su lado para quitarse el condón.

— ¿No vas a contestar? — Preguntó por lo bajo removiendose sobre la cama

— No, no voy a contestar.— Yoongi respondió

— Pero, ¿y si es importante, o de tu trabajo…?— T/n volvió a insistir antes de que fuera interrumpida por su voz.

— Me importa una mierda si es del trabajo, no voy a contestar.— Yoongi espeto molesto girandose hacia ella; viendola sobresaltarse y mirarlo sorprendida ahogó un gruñido y se apresuró a subir de nuevo a la cama a su lado.— Escucha, T/n, yo… actúe como un idiota la vez que preguntaste si podíamos conocernos porque no quería perder mi trabajo, tengo esta regla donde no puedo tener ninguna relación con algun cliente y…

— Esa es una regla estupida.— T/n lo interrumpió con esas palabras, haciéndolo reír levemente.

— Sé que lo es, y yo pensé que quería eso, pero cuando no podía dejar de pensar en ti supe que lo que realmente quería era estar contigo, quiero estar contigo, no me importa que me despidan…

— Pero… es tu trabajo, no dejaré que te despidan por mi…

— No me importa, me di cuenta de que tú vales mas que ese trabajo y ese jodido dinero.— Yoongi volvió a asegurar con voz firme y sin dudar mientras acunaba su rostro con sus manos, casi perdiendose en sus ojos.— Quiero que empecemos de nuevo, que nos conozcamos, que vayamos a citas y hagamos todas esas cosas cursis y que no se quede solo como una llamada accidental de sexo telefónico entre nosotros.— agregó sin dejar de mirarla notando su sonrisa avergonzada ante el recuerdo haciéndolo sonreír también.— Estoy hablando enserio, quiero estar contigo T/n.

Y eso una vez mas demostro cuando podían afectarle sus palabras, solo que esta vez no eran vulgares ni lascivas, eran suaves y sinceras, y solo le revelaron algo que ella también sentía, quería estar con él, con nadie más.

— Me habías dicho que no eras romántico…— T/n habló con calma; mirándolo con ilusión y solo ganándose una sonrisa ladina de Yoongi sintiéndolo ajustar sus manos en su cintura para mimar su piel con calma.

— Cariño, te di un beso esquimal mientras estaba duro, por supuesto que puedo ser romantico.— Yoongi farfulló divertido sonriendo genuinamente cuando escuchó a T/n reír ante sus palabras, haciéndolo arrastrar sus manos por su cuerpo hasta llegar a su rostro para poder besarla una vez más.

Se volvió a adueñar de sus labios con puro fervor, ronroneando de gusto al sentirla enredar sus dedos en su cabello mientras se aferraba a él; invitándolo a besarla con más entusiasmo cuando el molesto sonido del teléfono volvió a escucharse, pero tampoco les importó mucho que digamos.

*Unas semanas después*

— Bebé…— La voz de Yoongi se escuchó desde el otro lado de la cocina, haciéndola dejar de hacer lo que sea que estuviera haciendo con lo siguiente que dijo.— ¡Tenemos nuestro primer suscriptor!

T/n rápidamente corrió hacia donde Yoongi estaba sentado en el taburete para mirar por encima de su hombro, con su cabello aún goteando y la toalla apenas envuelta alrededor de su cuerpo.

Después de que Yoongi dejó su trabajo y que decidieron mudarse juntos, ustedes dos habían encontrado una manera de ganar dinero juntos y divertirse mientras lo hacían, así que lo vio abrir la aplicación de OnlyFans en su teléfono y leer el nombre de la primera persona que amablemente se suscribió a su cuenta compartida.

— Jeon... Jungkook.

Ese nombre sonaba familiar.

— Wow, me pregunto cómo se topó con nuestra cuenta.— Yoongi reflexionó mientras la tomaba por sus brazos para acercarla a él y darle un pequeño beso.

T/n apenas y respondió, quedándose inmóvil en puro desconcierto, probablemente luciendo tan ridícula con la boca abierta y con el cuerpo cubierto de gotas de agua. ¿Podría ser él?

— ¿Qué estás pensando, bebé? — Yoongi preguntó mirándola con cuidado

— Nada, nada…— T/n respondió negando con su cabeza y arrojando ese pensamiento al fondo de su mente.— Supongo que será mejor que hagamos más contenido ahora, ¿no lo crees?

Y Yoongi simplemente sonrió ante eso, dejando su teléfono en el mostrador para poder envolver sus brazos en su cintura y abrazarla, sin importarle mucho que su camisa se estuviera humedeciendo con su cabello.— ¿Estás emocionada?

— ¿Por trabajar contigo? — T/n preguntó girándose hacia él y sonriendo de la misma forma antes de inclinarse y volver a besarlo.— Por supuesto, bebé.

————————————————————————

N/A: ¿Alguien más aparte de mi necesitaba que estos dos se comieran de una buena vez? Lo siento pero yo ya no podía con la tensión que se tenían

Espero que hayan disfrutado mucho de esta pequeña historia y que les haya gustado igual o más que la primera vez que la leyeron

Gracias por todo su apoyo titis ♡

taglist: @guvgguk @lessuwu @cometaart @AnnieKCV @darysnowflwr @nunubly @choco-linny @wtffktt7 @minmin-cat @18fernanda @ariggukie @Katherine Murillo @lizxz @onixbae02 @piligt @youtis @tessacereza @aavacaf @holiwui032

[brainddeadd]

Worshiping Him

smut - body worship, praise kink, slight overstimulation, kinda subby yoongi/dom reader

Yoongi is lying down when you come home. He's sleepy, wearing some shorts you bought him and nothing else.

"Hi baby," his smile is dopey, his body relaxed, and you smile when you see him. "How was your day?"

"Better now that I've seen you," your voice is teasing, but you mean it.

"What's that look on your face for?" He knows what you want, he can tell, but he wants to hear you say it. Instead of answering, you pull off your work clothes and sit next to him on the bed, huffing from the effort after a long day. He runs his palm up your back soothingly, he knows you'll answer him when you're ready.

"I want-" you flush bright red.

"Baby, it's me." He's gentle, encouraging. "Nothing you say will be embarrassing or shameful."

"I want to worship you."

He blinks slowly. That's not what he thought you'd say. Fucked dumb? Probably. For him to use your throat? Maybe. Cockwarming? Possibly. But to worship him? That never would have crossed his mind. He could have been given a million guesses, taken years, and he'd still never have guessed that.

"If you don't want me to that's fine-"

"Woship me?" He's confused, voice coming out strained. "Why?"

It's your turn to blink at him stupidly. Why? Why? WHY?

"Min Yoongi, have you seen yourself?"

He splutters, and you roll your eyes, climbing over his lap and settling yourself onto his lap.

"Your lips are so kissable and pouty, I adore them," you press a soft kiss to his lips, and he holds you to him with a hand on your cheek.

"Your cheeks get so round and soft when you're eating, it's so cute." You give them a little pinch, making him swat your hands away before you press a kiss to each of his now blushing cheeks.

"Your nose has this cute lil freckle on it and I really just wanna boop it all the time," so you do.

"I love your hair, even more now that it's growing longer. It suits you, and I can pull on it easier," he shifts his thighs under you, and you can feel his cock slowly growing harder under your weight.

"I love your jawline, it's so sharp and defined." You trace your finger across it. "I'd say it could cut me, but you wouldn't like that."

He nods, and shrugs- you know him well. He never wants you hurt. Even if it is from his own jaw.

"Your neck is so hot, I love the way it looks when you throw it back in pleasure and the sounds that come from deep in your throat - rapping or otherwise." He moves to push his hard cock into your clothed cunt, and you move away. "Nope, no pussy until I'm done worshiping you."

He whines and you shut him up with a kiss before continuing.

"I love your collarbones and the way you're so sensitive there." You kiss each of them before pushing him so he's lying down again. You trace your finger down his chest and ghost over his nipples, causing his hips to buck up into nothing.

You giggle slightly and press slightly onto his nipple, causing him to whine again.

"Fuck baby." He's about to beg, so you remove your hands entirely and let him relax onto the bed again.

When he's somewhat relaxed, you place your hands on his stomach, running your fingers over the hard planes of toned muscle and smooth skin.

You move, so your face is in line with his stomach, and you place kisses over his skin, tracing your tongue along the ridges of his muscles. He squirms, hands moving to your head, wanting to push you down to his hard, leaking cock that's leaking and making a mess on the inside of his shorts. His hips buck up, seeking friction that he fails to get.

You trail kisses down his stomach to the waistband of his shorts, letting him get his hopes up, before you place a kiss directly over the growing patch of precome and you stand up, hearing him whine and watching him shudder.

"Baby, please, need you." Yoongi is begging.

"Patience baby, I'm not done yet." You fake a pout. "You don't want to ruin my fun do you?"

Yoongi shakes his head, and you smile at him, "good boy."

To say Yoongi whines would be too kind. The noise is guttural and deep, and you can tell from the way his stomach is tensing and hips are bucking, that he's cumming, untouched. You decide to be nice, and press your hand to his cock, letting him rut up into it until his orgasm is over.

You let him catch his breath, keeping you hand pressed to his still hard cock, knowing he likes the warmth, and smile softly at him when he opens his eyes.

"M'sorry." He whispers, chest heaving.

"It's ok baby," you kiss the closest patch of skin, his knee. "But we're not done yet."

He sucks in a breath, and you move your hand from his cock.

You place a kiss on his left ankle, trailing your lips up his leg, occasionally bringing your tongue out to trail on his smooth skin. You repeat the process on the other side, kissing up his inner thighs and stopping just before you get to his cock.

Standing, you pull a noise of protest from him before you pull him up to a sitting position and slip into the space behind him. There, you kiss the space between his shoulder blades and each of the scars from his shoulder surgery before you pull him back to lean on your chest.

You reach around in front of him, kissing his cheek and ghosting over his nipples again, before you - finally - slide your hands beneath his shorts, your fingertips meeting the cum from his previous orgasm.

He leans his head back onto your shoulder, already breathing heavily, and you grip his cock, making his breath hitch in his throat.

Slowly, you start to move your hand along his cock, making sure to apply pressure to the veins on the underside and to run your finger along the slit in his tip - something you know drives him wild.

Soon enough, he's panting, his bucking and moans falling from his mouth. You kiss his cheek again before moving on of your hands to his balls, squeezing gently and tugging his cock, which makes him let out another guttural noise, his cum flowing over your hands and making more mess in his shorts.

"Good boy, so good for me." He whines again and bucks his hips one last time before his body goes slack, and he tries to grab your hand through the material of his shorts. You smile and bring your hand out, licking his cum off first, and taking his hand in yours.

"Thank you." His voice is quite, relaxed.

"I love you." You let him rest on you for a few moments before you nudge him gently. "We've got to clean you up, baby."

He groans but moves anyway, knowing you're right and helps you off the bed, his hands coming up to undo your bra and pull it off your body.

You moan as he moves to touch your nipple and pull his free hand up to yours, taking his fingers into your mouth and sucking like they're his cock.

"You're gonna be the death of me."

[breezybangtanbebe]

Give it to me: MYG❤️‍🔥

Tags: YoongixReader(1st person), angry sex, jealous long haired Yoongi🥵, fingering, dirty talk.

A/N: this is from my vault and I meant to put it up on his birthday 😩 but ya girl be busy with life. Oh well.

2.3k words

My back hit the wall and my brow creases slightly from the force of him pushing me. But I soon forget once Yoongi is stepping up, pressing his body firmly against mine to continue devouring my mouth.

We kiss sloppily at first, all teeth and tongue colliding as we fought for dominance. My hands are already reaching for his zipper eagerly and just when I'm able to get it down, he slaps my hand away.

"Uh uhn...You wait." He scolds against my lips, picking up where I left off but on my zipper. The button pops and the zipper gives way as he pushed his deft hand down and under my panties.

God, I hate him.

But fuck....I love him...

Yoongi wedges his foot between mine, forcing me to widen my stance just enough for him to be able to push his hand deeper beneath my panties. The moment it cups my sex, he groans at how wet I already am. He shifts his middle and index finger against each other, chuckling at the slickness collecting between them.

"This shit turns you on? Pissing me off?" He asks. Before I can think of a response, Yoongi begins toying with my clit. Trapping it between those two fingers for a little squeeze then commencing to rub it.

Up and down.

Side to side.

In a circular motion.

"..mmmhmm.." I whimper as Yoongi sucks my bottom lip between his teeth gently. He pulls back, tugging my lip towards him before releasing it.

"Tell me you want it..." he says softly but there's a darkness in the way his voice deepened that makes me tremble. All I can do is moan against his lips as his fingers teased at my clit.

He pulls his hand away from my heat and begins snaking it up my front, cupping my breast through my shirt briefly before clasping it around my neck.

His other hand replaces his touch between my legs but this time his fingers are plunging deep inside of me, making my jaw drop in a silent cry of ecstasy.

Yoongi leans his head back just enough for him to see my face and his tongue rolls over the inside of his cheek with focus as he finger fucked me slowly.

"Look at you...you wanted me to fuck you so bad, you thought you had to be a lil brat to get it..." he snarks, narrowing his gaze at me. His grip tightens around my throat as he leans in to kiss me again, coaxing my tongue out to tangle with his.

He sighs with satisfaction when my lips latch around his tongue to suck it and he overtakes the kiss moving his lips more fervently.

All the while his fingers are stroking my walls, slow and intentional, making my arousal mount with every delicious movement.

He pulls away, causing a thin string of saliva to stretch and break between our mouths.

"..so fucking nasty, baby..." he whispers, resting his forehead against mine as his fingers picked up their pace. By now, my jeans were halfway down my thighs and the crotch of my panties are soaked from Yoongi's fingers.

My breathing is staggered and heavy, panting like I'm in heat from how horny he has me.

"Baby...baby please.." I mumble and Yoongi hums questioningly as he presses against my sweet spot.

"Tell me you want this dick, baby. You want it so fucking bad...Yeah, you want it, I know." He teases and coos with his lips only a breath away from mine, smirking at the way I squirm and whine against the wall.

He was now rubbing against my g-spot feverishly, damn near moaning at the sounds I was making for him.

My walls clench and hug his fingers the closer he pushed me and just as I'm about to explode, he pulls his hands away from my body. My eyes flutter at his absence and I whine at the subsiding sizzle of my impending orgasm.

Just then, Yoongi lowers enough to hook his arms under my thighs to place around his waist. My body is pushed up on the wall and I drape my arms over his shoulders, reaching up to run my fingers through his silky soft hair that he'd be growing out.

Our lips meet again, only pecking softly as Yoongi held me up by cupping my ass cheeks and he walks us over towards his bed carefully.

He then lays me down and undresses me so lovingly that I forget that we were beefing for a moment. His touch is so gentle and there's a softness in his gaze as he looms over me, studying the features of the woman he just couldn't get away from even if he wanted to.

"You're so beautiful.." were his first words in what felt like minutes. It doesn't come off as a compliment. It's declarative. He says it to me as of it were a fact that he wouldn't dare argue to be anything less.

If I weren't so worked up, I would probably be saying the same from the way he was looking at me so deeply.

After a beat, his soft expression goes resentful and he sits back on his knees to pull his shirt over his head.

"But...I'm still mad. Roll over." He commands before hopping off the bed. I lay there naked, watching him move across the room towards his dresser and he opens the top drawer to retrieve what I can only assume is a condom.

I frown at the shift in his demeanor, pushing myself up on my elbows to watch him push down his jeans and underwear with the condom wrapper trapped between his teeth.

He returns to the bed, not even sparing me a glance until he rips the foil wrapper with his teeth casually.

He perks his brow curiously.

"I gotta repeat myself?" Yoongi asks coldly and for the first time since we'd been fighting, I'm taken aback by how irritated he was. My bottom lip pokes out and trembles a little.

"Why are being so mean?" I ask, attempting to sound vulnerable. Yoongi regards me blankly, blinking slowly before rolling his eyes.

"I'm not being mean...I just asked a question." he sighs.

"You are though. Since we left the restaurant. You've been in this pissy ass mood. I didn't ask Tae to peel my shrimp for me! He just did!" I exclaim, not giving a damn about rehashing it.

Yoongi's eyes shoot to the ceiling.

"And here we go...." he sighs, and I fold my arms over my bare chest defiantly.

"Yes! Here we go! All of this could be settled if you'd just use your words like an adult instead of taking your frustrations out on me through sex. If you want to talk then we can just talk..." I shrug and Yoongi's eyes drag from above, down to his dick then back up at me.

"I don't want to talk. I wanna fuck. You wanna talk." He says callously.

"Because you're treating me like I cheated on you or something. All over some damn shrimp! That I didn't even need help peeling! Tae just volunteered..."

"And you let him..." Yoongi deadpans, his response nearly making me snort. I narrow my eyes at him for a moment, trying my hardest not to focus on how good he looked his pristine milky smooth skin, perfect body, and his hard dick pointing at me.

The fact that it hadn't dropped or bowed since we'd been talking was proving that he was just as turned on by arguing as I was.

Lil freaky ass...

"Well you weren't gonna help me so..." I clap back, sounding just as petty as intended and Yoongi sucks his teeth in disgust.

"You can peel your own fucking shrimp! You're not helpless..." he responds and I make the most childish sound of annoyance known to man.

"Oh my god.... that's not the point!" I huff, pushing myself up from leaning on my elbows to leaning on my hands. Yoongi remains at the foot of the bed, gloriously nude and hard. My eyes flit down to his dick and then back up to his face.

"I know what this is all about though...You're jealous." I state boldly and it takes a moment for Yoongi to respond. His jaw tenses.

"Of who? Tae?" He lifts his brow and I nod.

"Tae. Hobi. Jungkook...anyone near me that isn't you." I shrug.

A few seconds pass and a humorless smirk crosses Yoongi's face, the expression not touching his dark and angered eyes.

"Careful.."

"Why? It's true. You might as well just admit it." I challenge him, drawing my legs up and crossing them sultrily. Yoongi doesn't fall into the teasing gesture, keeping his hardened glare on my face.

"No." He says, sounding more irritated than before.

"Admit. It..." I smirk back at him, tilting my head and biting my lip. I lean back just a bit to rest on my elbows again and Yoongi's eyes drop from my face to my breast, traveling down my torso slowly toward the apex of my thick thighs.

Then he looks back up, locking eyes with me sternly.

"You tryna start another argument or you tryna get fucked? Which is it?"

Oop.

The question halts whatever smart assed response I had ready in the chamber and like a good little slut, I dutifully roll onto my stomach. I then push my ass up and arch my back in the way I already knew he wanted me.

Yoongi remains silent behind me and I resist smirking when I feel the mattress give under the weight of him climbing on the bed. The sound of him pushing the latex circle from the foil packaging is followed by the warmth of his hand grazing over the curve of my backside.

His favorite attribute of mine that even when he hated my guts, he could resist touching. Knowing this, I begin swaying my hips so that my ass jiggles beneath his hand and Yoongi grabs a handful of my ass harshly as if to scold me.

But he says nothing, only pressing his pelvis into me, holding me by the waist with one hand and slapping his dick against the face of my pussy with the other. I deepen the arch in my back and moan softly at the weight of his dick smacking against my sensitive wetness, letting Yoongi know I was ready for him.

He keeps his eyes low, watching his length grow shinier as it's coated with my arousal, rocking himself back and forth to rub his thick shaft against me teasingly.

I grind back against him, winding my hips in the way I knew drove him crazy for an added effect. Yoongi squeezes my cheek again, but this time he pulls his hand back to slap it hard to watch it ripple against his hand.

The sudden blow has me crying out and Yoongi scoffs bitterly at the sound.

"Shut up." He snaps, suddenly entering me without any warning.

Yoongi's dick is thick and it's his girth more than his length that always has me running. He pushes himself deep, anchoring me still by the waist and sinking as far as could go. His tip presses against my cervix, making me stutter against the bedsheets but that only encourages him to go harder.

Yoongi fucked me like he hated me.

Hard and merciless. Snapping into me so that my head damn near hits the wall. He alternates between fucking me fast and slow, most likely for his benefit.

Backshots were his strength and his weakness. He loved the power and dominance he gained from this position but he also was a sucker when it came to watching my ass bounce back against him.

Taking him like a champ, stroke for stroke.

"What happened to all that mouth, huh? All that shit you were just talking...." He grits, fucking me harder for emphasis.

My voice had gone hoarse forever ago and it was barely audible now that Yoongi was pushing me down further with his hands at my waist and his leg propped up on the mattress.

Sweat dripped down his chest, dipping between his and into his naval. His neck-length hair was spiking at the ends and sticking to his forehead and nape in some places.

A visual I wished I could have taken in for myself.

But I barely see anything through my tears and blurred vision. Face down on the pillows with my ass up, I let Yoongi take me over the edge over and over again.

It's after cumming for the fourth time that I can tell he's about to explode. I only know because he becomes less inhibited and the sexy grunts and growls turn into deep pleasured groans. I could probably cum from listening to that alone.

"Ugh...Fuckfuckfuck baby fuck..." Yoongi moans, tipping his head back to shake his sweaty hair from his face. He licks his lips before biting down hard on his bottom lip, fucking me fast and hard as he chased his nut. My moans rival his as we both mumble pleasured expletives in harmony until Yoongi slams himself so deep that I nearly choke.

His jaw drops and he releases an elated exhale, his eyes rolling back as he came deep inside of me. I feel him thumping and pulsing against my walls, and I'm suddenly bitter at the fact that he wore a condom.

Though I could commend him for being precautious and safe, at the moment I would have loved feeling his hot seed dripping from my slit as he pulled out.

I remain in the position since I'm too lazy and stunned to move, and the warmth of his presence abandons me for only a minute. I'm welcomed by a different type of warmth as he wipes over my pussy and inner thighs with a damp washcloth.

Even when he hates me, he loves me.

What a catch.

Giving my ass one more gentle slap, Yoongi pushes me over and becomes the big spoon behind me. He pulls the blanket over us and we lay there naked, my back to his front. His head rests over my hair, putting his lips near the shell of my ear.

"Id peel your shrimp for you, you know...for the record.." I remark sleepily with a sly smirk and Yoongi immediately releases me from his embrace to roll over.

"Wow...what a baby. I was joking..." I giggle, chasing him over the sheets.

"Stop talking..." He murmurs sleepily, but he doesn't resist my touch as I wrapped my arms around his waist to make him become the little spoon.

Which he preferred anyway.

[linos-luna]

Can I request a Yoongi smut with a fem reader.Yoongi is so stressed with working on the album one day he comes home from filming the music video still in his agust d outfit and takes it out on the reader 🥵🥵🥵

Agust d is just 🥵

———————————————————————

Louder ❣️

Hard!Dom!Yoongi x Sub!Fem!Reader

Warnings: oral (male recieving), pain kink, crying, filth, slapping, unprotected sex, rough sex, d/s

————————————————————————

Yoongi sat on the couch, running his hand through his hair with a sigh. He just barely got home from a stressful music video shoot and didn’t even bother to change his clothes or clean his face. You didn’t say anything as you watched from the hallway, but he knew you were there.

“Come here, y/n…” he said, not even turning his head.

You slowly walked over to him and he patted his lap, implying that he wanted you to sit.

Yoongi moved your hair from your face and started kissing you. At first it was soft but then got deeper and sloppier. He bit your lip and inserted tongue; you swore you could taste some blood and moaned at the feeling.

After some sloppy making out, he grabs your chin. “Y/n, I’m so tired today, you know?”

“You look really good.” You said meekly.

“Yeah?” He smirked while kissing and sucking at your neck. You like me dressed up and dirty?”

You only whined at the feeling, tracing your fingers down his chest. “Yes, Master. Agust D…” you giggle.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and suck me off, hm?”

You nodded and before getting up, he suddenly slapped you, it wasn’t that hard but still stunned you. He dramatically cleared his throat and you realized your mistake.

“… yes master!” you quickly say before he pushes you off his lap and you stumble to your knees to undo his pants. You struggled a bit but was finally able to lower his pants. He helped you lower his boxers and pulled out his cock, rubbing it in front of your face.

You soon gave little kitten licks to the tip, making Yoongi groan and pull your hair.

“No teasing you dumb bitch!”

You then took his entire length in your mouth. It was huge and you wanted to get used it. But Yoongi was impatient, he needed relief now.

Your boyfriend grabbed your hair tightly and fucked your throat. It was deep and harsh. You could barely breathe but he loved the sound of it.

“What’s wrong baby?” He grunt. “Cant handle it? I know you can, dumb slut!”

You whimpered and moaned before feeling his hips stutter. You gagged at the feeling and he came in your mouth.

You tried sitting back but Yoongi grabbed your jaw, squishing your cheeks to make your lips part and watch a mix of your spit and his cum drip from your mouth.

“Dirty bitch…” he panted with a devious smile. “So fuckin filthy…”

You didn’t say anything, only deeply breathing as you tried swallowing what you could.

“Answer me!” Yoongi yelled suddenly while giving a harsh slap to the cheek. You stumbled back a little and could barely catch yourself before he kicked you to the floor with his foot.

“Y-yes master!” you gasp as he gets on top of you, pinning you down by the wrists.

He chuckled as he yanked down your pants and nearly ripped off your underwear.

You moaned at the feeling of him teasing your wet cunt, spreading your legs wide, and roughly entered you. You screamed and Yoongi grabbed you by the throat.

“Again! Scream again, bitch!” He said while thrusting harder, bending your legs to a painful point.

You screamed again, panting and nearly crying as he rammed into you. It was painful but weirdly you loved it.

“Again!” He grunted while squeezing your throat lightly. “Louder!”

“Master… Yoongi! Master… Agust D!” you choked in a raspy scream.

“Cum on my dick like the dirty girl you are!” He panted as he was close himself.

You came and he did as well.

Yoongi wiped your tears as he pulled out and lifting you from the floor. He picked up your limp form and brought you to the bed. He laid next to you and you got a bit insecure as you realized you were completely naked as he was only missing his pants and boxers.

Before you could cover yourself, Yoongi softly kissed your lips and stroked your hair.

“Sleep now, baby… you’re so good to me.”

[bts-hyperfixation]

Tour Surprise

A yoongi x reader fanfiction

Summer madness 8/31 You surprise your best friend, Yoongi, while he has a few days break on tour. The only issue is you didn't think to check if there was space for you at the hotel... looks like you're sharing a bed.

Yes I'm aware it's no longer summer

“Surprise!” You shout jumping out from behind a pillar in the hotel lobby.

Yoongi stands with his mouth agape as he takes in your sudden appearance while his security guard looks slightly concerned that you were able to just appear. You reach out and close Yoongi’s mouth for him and his brain finally seems to catch up with his eyes.

“Y/N! You’re here.” He grins, enveloping you in a hug. “I didn’t think I would get to see you until we were back in Seoul.”

“I got some time off work, thought I would fly out to see my best friend. Namjoon said you would have a couple days spare this week.”

The older rapper glared across the lobby at the band’s leader, who was doing a terrible job of pretending not to be watching the two of you. Yoongi took your bag from you and lead you through the hotel. You spent the time in the elevator telling him about your awful seatmate on the plane and complaining about how uncomfortable economy could be. He agreed with you, although you suspect he no longer knows what economy feels like.

His room is right at the end of the hall, in between those of the other members. It’s smaller than the suites they’ve had in the past. A single kingbed stands proudly in the middle of the floor, a large TV on the wall across from it, and there is a hot tub right in the far window overlooking a stunning view. Suddenly you regret not bringing a swimsuit.

There is, unfortunately, a evident lack of a sofa. The hotel seems to have opted for overstuffed armchairs around a coffee table instead. In the past when you had visited Yoongi on tour he had always been aware and had ensured a sofa bed or extra room for you, perhaps you should’ve thought ahead to ask Namjoon to book you an extra room, but he is terrible with secrets and adding an extra task would’ve basically been begging for Yoongi to find out you were coming.

He must notice you looking at all of the chairs, judging which would be most comfortable because he laughs at you and nudges his head towards the bed.

“I think this should be big enough for the two of us.”

“I didn’t want to assume you would be okay sharing a bed.” You shrug.

“I’m not sure we would even notice another person in that bed with the size of it.”

He flops on to the side of the bed he prefers, proving his point as the other side remains unperturbed. He stretches his arms across the pillows, his fingertips barely reaching past the middles. You quash the disappointment that appears unwanted in the pit of your stomach. A left over reflex of a years old crush.

You kick off your shoes and mimic his actions, your fingertips brushing against his wrist as you land. His arm recoils back to his own side and you try not to think too much about it. You wriggle, messing up the sheets around you.

“I can’t believe how comfy this thing is.” You say, bouncing a little.

“I should hope so with the cost of this hotel.” Yoongi grumbles.

“Do I even want to know?” You turn on your side to face him.

“Probably not.” He says, facing you too.

You study his features. He looks tired, this is the end of the tours second leg, he probably hasn’t had a moment to himself in two months. It make syou feel a little guilty when you realise you are taking up his only alone time.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” He sighs, stifling a yawn.

He has always had a way of sensing where your thoughts were headed

“Did you have a look at anything you wanted to do while you are here? We could go to a museum? Or get food?” He says excitedly, although it is followed by another yawn.

“How about we take a nap first? I had a long flight and I’m sure you had a long day.”

He opens his mouth like he wants to fight to stay awake but he ultimately abandons his plan and shrugs, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes.

You shake your head as he appears to immediately fall asleep.

Dragging yourself away from comfort, you pull some pyjamas from the top of your bag and go into the bathroom to get changed. When you return Yoongi has shirked off his shirt and wiggled under the duvet. He is snoring softly as you pull the covers around yourself.

The first thing you notice as you awake is the weight on one side of your body. The second thing is the very hard appendge pressed up against your thigh.

It takes a moment for your sleep addled brain to put two and two together to work out that it is a very asleep Yoongi that is attached to you. And that it is his very awake dick that is digging into your leg.

Just as you are about to roll him away, he grinds down, whimpering in his sleep at the pressure. The noise short circuits your brain for a moment causing your thigh to move on its own to make the noise again.

It’s as your name tumbles from his lips it occurs to you what you are doing. One look at his face makes it evident that he is still fast asleep. He must be dreaming... about you.

His hips stutter against you once more and you are spurred into action, rolling him away from you a little too harshly, almost falling out of bed yourself. You cling to him to keep yourself from tipping over the edge, waking him in the process.

He blinks the sleep away from his eyes and assesses the immediate situation. He grips your arms and pulls you back into the bed chuckling to himself.

“Guess the bed wasn’t big enough after all.”

He doesn’t seem to know what woke him up, paying more attention to making sure you are safely back in bed . That is until he pulls you close and you brush up against his crotch once more. He immediately freezes, eyes glancing down between the two of you and back to your blushing face.

“Ah shit... sorry, it’s been a long, lonely couple of weeks...” He scoots back on the bed leaving plenty of room for you both. "I was going to take care of that need this afternoon... but well... you know you’re here. It’ll go away on it’s own soon.”

“I’m really sorry.” You blush...

But then an idea crosses your mind. A potentially very bad idea.

“If it’s my fault you’re stuck like this... maybe I should help you to fix it.” You suggest before you loose your nerve.

His eyebrow goes up, intrigued, before he shakes his head and gets ready to dismiss you.

“It’s not actually your fault, I was joking.”

You take note of how he doesn’t explicitly say no. Overconfidence spurs you forward before you think better of it.

“But you were dreaming about me, so it most be my fault.”

His ears turn a deep shade of red that you didn’t think was an option on the human spectrum.

“How did y...”

“You talk in your sleep. You scoot closer to him. “What was I doing in your dream? Maybe we could continue it in real life? I so rudely cut it short after all”.

In one last daring move you put your leg back between his thighs and press. Time pauses as he thinks about your offer, your brain briefly wanders to whether or not one of the others boys has a sofa available for you to use when this goes terribly south. But that moment never comes. Yoongi is suddenly back to rubbing his clothed cock against your bare leg, pushing your shorts upwards to give himself more space.

“Why do you want to help me?” He asks.

His lips are right by your ear now. He nibbles at your earlobe as he waits for your answer.

“You’re my best friend... and I love you.” You confess.

He whines and his hips move faster along your thigh.

“Let me help you properly.” You say, moving your hand down to his crotch but he pushes you away.

“You are helping.” He groans through gritted teeth.

His mouth falls away from your ear as his head nestles into the crook of your neck. He mouths blindly along you shoulder as his thrusts against your leg become more erratic. As he bites down at the base of your neck he cums hard in his pants.

You can feel the dampness seeping through the fabric of his sweats onto you. Something that would’ve embarrassed you if it was any other man, was so unbelievably sexy when it was Yoongi. You waited until his breathing evened out and he pulled away from you to speak.

“Is that what we were doing in your dream?”

“Almost exactly yeah.” He confirms/

"What was different?"

"I don’t usually cum so quickly in dreams.” He buries his face in his pillow, ashamed.

“Usually? So you dream about me a lot?”

He just nods into the pillow, too embarrassed to keep answering you.

“Always that same dream?”

This time he shakes his head no in to the pillow.

“So there are other things we could try next then.”

That gets him to lift his head up.

“You want to help me masturbate again? Even after you just saw me loose it like an 18 year old virgin?”

“Given the choice? I would prefer it to be more mutual pleasure. Although watching you like that was hot as fuck.”

“Mutual pleasure... right... Pleasing you... because you want me... like that.” He looks over at you to confirm that is what you meant.

“Yeah, I do. Provided you want me... like that.”

“I feel like I’ve proven that I do.” he says.

He pushes the duvet away and gestures to the wet patch on his pants. You take his hand a pull it towards your heat, letting him feel how wet you are yourself. He pulls his hand away and admires the moisture on his fingers.

“Just one question though.”

“shoot.”

“When you said you love me, did you mean as a friend? Or do you really love me?”

“I really love you.”

“Oh thank god.” He smiles.

Then before you get a chance to ask if he feels the same he removes the already limited space between you and covers your lips with his own.

Check out my masterlist for the other summer madness works!

[pennyluna]

Misunderstandings Part 4

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader 18+

Wordcount: 2172

Genre: Working together au. - Cold Player Au - Future something au.

Warning: This story contains strong language and Spicy/sexual scenes. Be aware before reading.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

I freeze. My body starts moving trying to figure out my next move, should I change? nah is too late. Should I justㅡ  Maybe I should just open the door. I make my way to the door and exhale when I notice is just the delivery guy with my food. After closing the door I made my way to the kitchen but to steps in its direction i hear another knock sending a chill down my spine. 

I place the food on the kitchen counter and walk to the door somehow this time I am more relaxed, looking out of the peephole I see Yoongi and suddenly the possible consequences of someone in my building seeing him outside my door at this time of night rushes through my head so my body rushes to open the door grab his hand and bring him inside the house shutting the door behind him in a spam of seconds.

"Missed me much?" he says with a fascinated smirk on his face.

"Huh?" I said confused. Finally looking down to where he was looking I take my hand back fast. Turns out my hand was still on the spot on his shirt where I grabbed him to pull him inside the house and I was still holding him against the wall.  

"What are you doing here Yoongi? How do you even know my address?" I say starting to come back to my senses. He continues to look at me seemingly amused and grabs my hand again interlacing our fingers. I am getting annoyed at his lack of response so I pull my hand away and walk towards my kitchen.  I open a bottle of red wine and pour two glasses silently handing one of them towards Yoongi. 

"I will call your driver and we can get you back to your hotel before anyone notices." I state.

"You want me to leave?" he stares at me then proceeds to rest sip on his wine "Oh.. Is Nate coming over?" he laughs mockingly.

"Stop it. I don't want to continue playing this game with you." I am evidently annoyed. I don't understand him first he ignores me and now he is jealous and showing up at my house. What the hell!!!!!!!!

He scoffs and places his glass on the kitchen island then walking towards where I am standing. He is walking slowly or maybe that is just my silly brain looking at him in slow-motion. He places his hands on my hips "You are cute when you are mad, you know that?"  

My confused expression is gone once his lips reach mine, his hands roaming around my hips pulling me into him.

 "I care. You are mine and the idea of another man touching you is scarier than anything else in my life right now". I don't know if he means that but his tone seems sincere and I cant do nothing but give up into his touch. I start kissing him and push him out of the kitchen and into my couch, we start taking our clothes off in a rush, I needed to touch him I needed him inside of me even if this was the last time we would do this. He seemed to be in the same rush as me and the lust in his eyes was fueling my need, we plop into the couch, making out and touching each others bodies. The room filled with our heavy breathing and moans. I get on top of him and rub his member to my entrance before sliding it in and riding him, his hands are on my boobs and then on my neck pulling me down to kiss him.  Everything is so intense and feels just so good. He tries to move me around and we end up rolling off the couch to my fluffy rug on the floor, not stopping but to laugh a little about the incident before continuing our activities. Having him on top of me with my legs wrapped around him and while he is fucking me and looking at me like I belong to him is making my legs shake and I cant no longer control my building orgasm and  end up exploding around his member in a symphony of moans, him following right after me.

He rolls over and lays next to me,  kissing my shoulder and then pulling the blanket off the couch and covering our bodies with it. I start myself falling asleep and I hear a  whispers "You are mine. I am yours". his words like a promise and the last thing I hear before falling asleep.

.................. The morning after ..................

I rub my eyes waking up, the only signs that what seems like a sleepy dream actually happened is my naked body covered by a blanket in the middle of my living room floor  Looking towards my windows I can see the cloudy rainy day is reflecting my feelings once I notice Yoongi is no longer next to me. I love rainy days but the idea of him leaving without saying goodbye after we spent the night together just rubs me the wrong way but I understand, he probably left very early to avoid being seen. 

I get up wrapping the blanket around my body, move the empty wine glasses to the kitchen and head to my room it takes me a couple of seconds to notice the noise coming from my bathroom and the light coming through the slightly open door. I walk towards it slowly and realize that the noise I was hearing was coming from my shower, when I push the door open a bit only to see Yoongi standing under the steamy shower. I rub my eyes again silently thanking God when I open my eyes again and Yoongi is still there.

"Good morning... Join me?" his words sounded like a question but I know it was more an order.

he stands staring at me with his hand pushing his hair back from his face, this man is a vision, his gorgeous forehead in sight, his body, his slightly erected member, all of him on plane view and surrounded by the steam made it a bit harder for me to be convinced this wasn't a dream.  I drop the blanket from my body and his member jerks up a bit, his eyes scanning my body as I walk into the shower. His hands welcome me under the warm water and his mouth follows planting a soft kiss to my lips before tracing other small kisses around my collar bone, then my boobs and then around my belly button kneeling in front of me and moving my leg over his shoulder. Our eyes connect for a second and I am starting to believe he really is here but when His tongue connects with my clit and he starts working around it with that powerful mouth of his, I am one hundred percent certain he is. I hold onto his wet hair while a powerful orgasm starts to build inside of me and it comes to a satisfying releasing a second after he introduces his fingers inside of me. I don't have time to recover from it because I am now slammed against the wet tiles with his hard member being pushed inside of me with one powerful move, his hand pulling my hair and head backwards so he can kiss my exposed neck while he continues to go in and out of my core. The intensity of all his moves seem to be getting to both of us, because soon we are both panting and I'm begging him to let me come as he is going into me faster and deeper until we both get to an incredible orgasm, His soft grunts in my ear adding to my pleasure and sending shivers through my body.

After washing ourselves and resting in the bedroom for a bit, I watched him put his pants on while I put on a large t-shirt and some shorts, I knew he was going lo leave soon so in my mind I was trying to get used to the idea and bringing back my serious and sometimes bitchy side of my personality out again.

"Do you like brunch?"  he asks casually. His words pulling me out of my thoughts and the idea that he might be wanting to start some chitchat to cover the silence while he waits for his car bother me a bit.

"Yes. Doesn't everyone?" I don't wait for him to answer before I ask another question "Is your driver on the way? I need to check that no one is around before you leave. Tell him to go at the back entrance of the building, that will probably be more discreet." I continue talking about options for him to safely leave my apartment with minor risk of being seen but after a while of talking and not having an answer from him,  I stop to look at him only to find him staring at me, shirtless and phone in hand. He opens his mouth to say something but he stops. "What?" I ask again.

"Are you kicking me out?"

"No. But you should get back to your hotel before people figure out you are not there. This is the responsible thing to do." I say in my formal tone that now has a hint of annoyance in my voice after a couple of seconds of silence. 

He looks at me, silently scanning my face and then suddenly something changes in his eyes. I open my mouth ready to speak again but he put his hand up to stop me from doing so. He drops his phone on the bed and then speaks. 

"Were are not doing this." I look at him confused. "We have one day off work. I asked about brunch because I want us to eat something together. I want to spend the day with you. I want to feed you so you get some strength in you before we spend the rest of the day fucking and talking about anything and everything." he steps closer to me and holds my chin up. "I don't know what this is exactly and I cant promise you anything but I know is more than just sex to me.  So, if you want me to leave say it. Otherwise, I need you to drop the attitude and allow us to enjoy today."

His voice is firm but filled with honesty and his eyes continue to scan me, I can see he is waiting for an answer so I nod in agreement activating a smirk in his face as  he pulls me in for a deep kiss.

After our conversation we spent the rest of the day doing just that. We ate brunch sitting at the kitchen island. Watched a movie and argued about the stupid logic of the girl that hears a noise coming from her dark basement and then goes to check it. Yoongi said he could take whatever it was that was hiding in there while i laughed at him showing me how he would throw punches, then I said I would run so fast that there would be a hole in the wall shaped like me. We had sex in different parts of my apartment, the kitchen, on my bed and on the floor of my bedroom, against the little table where I set my keys and again in the shower talking and taking naps in between each session. We almost never checked our phones because Yoongi had talked to his manager about wanting to not be disturb because he was going to be resting in his room but now his alarm started ringing, waking us up from our nap in the couch after the latest sex session.  He stops his alarm and then starts giving me soft kisses on the neck. 

"I have to go." he says softly against my mouth. I moan a little when we kiss. We get up from the couch and he pulls a t-shirt over my head before putting his clothes on. His phone rings again and we know this time is his driver, we had agreed he would go out alone, since it would be less suspicious. Stopping in front of my door we silently hug and he kisses my forehead before heading outside.

I lock my door and look around my living room noticing every sign of his now missing presence here, the empty box of the pizza we had for dinner, the empty beer cans, a random movie playing on the tv, my blanket on the floor in front of the couch, the small pillows that usually sit on the couch are on the floor and I wrap my hand around my body trying to avoid the sadness and the uncertainty of what could happen tomorrow when we are back at work. I head to my bedroom, closing the door behind me and curling myself up in my bed, smelling his sent in my pillows, then falling asleep. 

.................................................................................

A.N: I hope you guys like part 4. Please feel free to leave any feedback. I would be really thankful if you could leave a like/repost this :)

[yooniivrse]

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

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main masterlist

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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.

[hoseoksluna]

THE BALL OF LIGHT, iv. | myg, jjk

pairing: brother!yoongi x fem!reader (feat. friend!jeongguk)

genre: angst, fluff

rating: 15+

summary: your heart dies and your life changes course.

word count: 5.2k

warnings: fever dream, smoking, sickness — oc has a fever and holly throws up (only mentioned), oc spirals and has bad thoughts, the paranormal, family issues.

luna's note: chapter four is finally here. it's the last one for this year... it's absolutely crazy to think about. this chapter is kind of all over the place only because oc is. her feelings aren't cohesive and her mental issues prevent her from sticking to one good thing in her life. her mind always turns it into a bad thing. keep this in mind as you read. i hope you guys like this chapter. i love you all so much and i missed you. let me know what you think in comments or asks. <3 mwah.

𓂃 ౨ৎ

taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster, 

@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 

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The house is quiet, as if its mouth has been sewn shut. The snowflake-laced wind speaks for it, seeping through the walls with aching groans that you feel nibbling its way beneath your skin. The lights are out—there are only Yoongi’s Jordans perched by the front door, the only pair of shoes he owns. Not your mother’s kitten heels. Not your father’s loafers. Only those black and white sneakers that are the only remnant of them, for they gifted them to him for the last birthday they were present for. 

You had watched Jeongguk drive away with a speed he didn’t dare to trigger with you. For one brief moment of bliss he was there, and for another he wasn’t. You stood like a stone-cold statue upon the place where he embraced you, where he hid you from your brother, cradling his body heat in your hands like it was the potion that contained your humanity. Stood there frozen in time, unwilling to let go of it, of the kindness he gave you, of the life you fleetingly lived with him that didn’t mirror the normalcy you were accustomed to. Unwilling to go back to the curdled milk-like emptiness, to your mind’s imagination, to the tepidness you know from your books that once meant everything to you.

Once… just yesterday. 

The heat you cradled from his heart dissipated on its own too soon, however. Above your head, the ivory flurries thickened, twirling in a dance that you sensed to be too sinister to be in the middle of, and so with a heavy soul that began to tear up and yearn for more of his time, you turned around and walked up the hill towards the castle of doom that you didn’t wish to enter, not so ignorant to the bad feeling that sank in its translucent, dusky flesh. 

And maybe, just maybe, you shouldn’t have entered at all. You should have come up with a reason to stay longer or to stay with him within that bundle of affection he created for you during your brief visit, and not retrace your steps back into the place you no longer belonged to, to the place called ‘home’ that no longer felt like home. But as you turn the key in the lock and step inside the dimness of the hall and no one greets you, you perceive that it had never been your home in the first place. 

Not with your mother’s disliking of you, not with her curses over your life. 

Like a fractured statue now, you wait for Holly to come padding upon the parquet floors like she does every single day, but the frost settled upon your bones and the snowflakes nestled upon your hair strands and the planes of your face melt first before she ever comes. 

Alarm flickers in your chest, mockingly slapping the ends of the velvet ribbon around the tree of life in you. 

Your feet automatically slip out of your winter shoes, but you leave your jacket on—leave it on and drip all over the floors as you frantically go in search of your brother, your fright enkindled not by your worst sin, but by being seemingly all alone. All the doors are shut—to the downstairs bathroom, to the kitchen and the bead curtain that separates the dining room from the living room is unmoving, dust-filled as if no soul ever lived in this house. Your head aches, a dull pain darting back and forth behind your eyes, and you feel your body grow feverishly hot beneath all the layers of your clothes. He’s not in the kitchen and Holly isn’t there either, and in the living room the glassy, crystalline ghosts of your parents sit there. Your father in his armchair with a thick novel in his blue, pellucid hands, and the Bible on his lap for comfort and for his last read of the night as was invariably customary to his nightly routine. Your mother sleeping, half-laid on the couch, snoring softly. The cobalt shape of her long hair, the length that was the symbol of beauty for her, but a symbol of barbarism for you. The TV is on, but the sound is muted.

Her chest doesn’t lift, and your father’s hand doesn’t lift to turn the page. Both of their translucent, lucid and almost wet-like forms have one colorful thing in common. 

A heart. 

You blink, and the delusion drops dead. 

Just like them. 

Your breath shivers, a paralyzing shock coursing through your body. You can’t move, but somehow your jacket hits the floor, the black material soaking the drops of melted snow you left all over it, ostensibly cleaning it up for you in order not to get you in trouble. You can’t move, but your feet seem to know where Yoongi is and they take you to him. Up the stairs that creak under your weight, through the hall lined with rooms, whose doors are shut, profound with their stories, screaming silently if you put your ear close enough to the wood. You can’t move, but your hand tries the antique knob of your parents’ bedroom and it opens wide. 

A familiar, evil energy pulses there in its darkness. 

Yoongi forgot to lock it up. Your feet pull you away. You close the door. 

Within the realm of your shock and panic, a hope blooms in its midst—a hope that you find Holly curled somewhere on your brother’s bed, drowsily secluded in her doggy dreams that are perhaps too effervescent to steal away from for the purpose of greeting you. But as you flounder to his room and turn the knob, your eyes, searching madly through the fog of your fever, detect no light brown, curly canine family member resting on your brother’s bedsheets. 

Yoongi stands at the window, hunched over the windowsill. A white smoke curls over his head. 

Your stomach drops. 

He’s smoking? He smokes? 

It must be your fever, playing tricks on you just like it messed with your brain when you were in the living room. The pounding behind your forehead and eyes intensifies and as you take a step inside the basis of the castle’s doom, the floor creaks under your disintegrating weight, announcing your presence. 

Yoongi turns around. The white fume of the smoke mingles with the falling flurries, but doesn’t drop dead, doesn’t disappear. Beats into your discombobulated state. And once he sees that you’ve come home on two unbroken legs, he discreetly lets the slender body of the snowflake-kissed cigarette plummet to the softness of the snow down below. 

Pretends you didn’t see him smoking. Clothes himself in the role of the put-together, responsible older brother. Sinless, squeaky-clean, pristine. 

You’re reminded of the betrayal all over again. It’s as if he pulled on the already taut strings of it wrapped around your flesh by discarding the cigarette like that upon seeing you. And while your body takes in the pain once more, you’re indifferent to it. It doesn’t hurt anymore; your mind begins to fight against it, against him, in the form of a monologue. Emotion-charged sentences of how it can’t affect you anymore spread down your neurons like forest fire. And maybe this circle of orange-red will keep you safe from all his secrets. Shut him out. So you can remain placid, alive, and well. 

So you can remain molded by Jeongguk’s hands. 

Yoongi closes the window, enveloping the room in a deeper shade of twilight than it was shrouded in before. The last remnant of the breeze brushes past the film of sweat on your hairline before you’re untouched again. You fight on, unmarred by the reappearing lack, lifting your frail, fire-ringed limb to turn on the light, but your vision is subdued, nonetheless. Your bones decay, and you truly think you’re on the cusp of death. 

Jeongguk’s worry uncoiled in reality. You’ve gotten sick, although your affliction points more to homesickness, you suppose. 

“What took you so long?” Yoongi speaks first, and you blink to make your vision clearer. Yoongi is a moonlessly opaque, unfocused figure in front of you, so terribly reminiscent of the helmet-wearing boy who drove away… with your scrunchie on his wrist as you now, at this moment, realize whilst your fingers, self-consciously, envelop around your wrist, the one that is protected by the bracelet Yoongi entwined you. 

Jeongguk had kept it around his wrist after he pulled it away from your bun. The brief memory of the way he slid the satiny material down his limb floods your brain, the beige being the only color adorning him. Soft brown amidst all that black. 

The pressure of your brother’s question washes the recollection away, seemingly ricocheting across the walls, drumming against your ears over and over again as if he asked it a thousand times. Your chest swells with twice as many, with a rising tide more violent than any power he ever disported. 

Why haven’t you told me you visit mom and dad’s bedroom?

Why do you insist we keep the door shut and locked still? 

Why are you so strict to me?

Why don’t you let me live? 

Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy?

You choose the question that stands behind the reason why your feet carried you to his room, however. You swallow them down, hang them over the twigs of your tree. Let them breathe the air of life before you spew them out at him. 

“Where’s Holly?” 

Because that, too, is the reciprocated shooting of an arrow in the middle of this battlefield—a question for a question. It is another step forward because if Jeongguk never laid his hands on you, and had you never drank his cinnamon tea, you would have stooped in your dutifulness and broke your spine bending forward multiple times in apology. 

You have nothing to apologize for. 

Yoongi does—for the incision of his hypocrisy. 

And brother dearest sighs in response to your counterattack. Hangs his head low. The long, thinning strands of his ebony, snowflake-powdered hair covers his sight, concealing the rawness of his emotions from you. You will never see, will you? The jagged, warped surface of his feelings; the reasonings strung to them. You’ll never see and you’ll never know—and that is the fate of the younger sibling. 

Because if he showed you just a little bit of his humanity, you’d be a much happier person, no longer reliant on the emotions described by memorable authors of the past age. Not so fixated, not so needy; a hollow body with hollow organs due to the lack of a caress and a tender word. 

You wouldn’t be forming an attachment to the first male that didn’t break your heart. 

And the one who knows too well of the sensitivity that your delicate flesh is overlaid with sits down at the edge of his bed. The lower angle allows you to see the largening bald spot upon the left side of his head, right above his ear, especially when he looks to the side, seeking his words along the ashen walls of his room. You’ve never seen him so languid. To such an extent that he nibbles his bottom lip, unblinking, static, unsure. 

For the first time in a long while, you wish he would speak. Utter the words in the unfavorable way of his that he’s gotten used to. Your anxiety rises, ingesting you whole, and your throat is so parched, so scratchy that you can’t even swallow. 

Your limb, flaccidly, falls off the light switch, slapping against your side. It is the only sound in the room, one that tugs him away from his desperate pursuit of words, and there he blinks. Up at you with round, puny eyes, like Holly does ever so often.

 There he speaks. 

“I had to take her to the vet,” he begins, a rasp of crumbling words that come to dust between you and him, a fine yet heavy powder that settles over your heart like the snow flurries outside. Winter grows, your fever thumps, and you can’t breathe. “She was shivering and throwing up when I got home. The vet said she ate something bad… probably from the trash.” His eyes narrow as he delivers the information—as if it were your fault that she made this mistake because you weren’t at home. Your anxiety transforms into an overpowering amount of guilt that you tense up against, your mouth parting in dismay, shivering like her, shivering like poor little Holly. “They kept her at the clinic when they heard that none of us were at home. To monitor her.” 

You shrivel up—now smaller than him, no longer the one bigger on this battlefield. Smaller and smaller you become until he rakes his hand through his hair and props his knuckles on his knee. To your absolute surprise, Yoongi changes the narrative. 

“I shouldn’t have left,” he breathes out, skimming his eyes everywhere but you, and something flickers inside you; something tells you that the verb ‘left’ is one of great importance, one that you remember for a reason unknown to you. Your ears stretch, and so does your heart—towards him in outright urgent anguish, wrapped up in the cloth of grief over what happened to your lives. Love is what you detect in the beginning of that sentence. Clear as day; clear as winter. Something you irrationally and unashamedly would die to receive from him, from anyone. “I picked up another shift… only because Christmas is coming around, but I shouldn’t have. If I hadn’t, Holly would still be here with us.”

The arrow that has changed direction and now points at him feels as though a burden has been lifted off your shoulders. By his boyish hands, by those slender fingers of his, smeared with blood by that constant habit of cuticle biting of his. The burden is red, darkly red, sacrificed, and tears prick behind your eyes. 

It isn’t your fault—and Yoongi isn’t blaming you. He’s blaming himself. Smoking out the guilt behind your back. If you had your vape in your hand, you’d squeeze it. Squeeze his shoulder with your other and tell him—it’s okay. 

But you can’t say much. You can’t do much either. With your empty fist, you rub your eyes like a small, sleepy baby, your exhaustion preventing you from entering this strange twist of events even deeper. The moment twists tauter, nonetheless. 

Yoongi sees you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone a lot softer, but the question still aches—only because it contains the word you wished to say to him. Your brother stands up to his feet and crosses the distance to you, all while you still create subduedly colorful stars before your eyes. 

He places a hand on your shoulder—essentially does what you yearned to do to him. The same hand lifts briefly, wraps around your wrist and draws your fist away. Brushes away a damp strand of hair that has messily been sloped across the side of your face. A light touch that nearly brings down your fever. You blink up at him and as you do, he returns the warmth of his hand back down to your bony shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Pinpricks scatter down your limbs. Love. This is love. The love you have lost somewhere along the highs and lows of his adulthood threaded with responsibilities, tactfulness and accountability. The love that had strayed and now has found its way back—because he presses his knuckles against the side column of your neck. 

“You’re burning up.” 

As his love saturates your bones little by little, you nod. Weightless you are, no longer bound by shackles, by negativity, by lacks that were too consuming, gnawing at your flesh until there was nothing left of you. His love refreshes you, a fountain kissed by the snow flurries that have softly blanketed his hair from his lonesome window smoking therapy session. 

You missed him. You love him and you missed him, and there’s nothing you long for more than to embrace him. Finish the ouroboros of today’s unique events by hugging the only two prominent people in your life. Jeongguk first—and now Yoongi. 

And you do. Oh, you do. 

Entwine your arms around his torso, hide your face in his sturdy chest. It takes only but a moment for your brother to do the same, taken aback by the sudden shift of your relationship with him. And it is under the palm of his hand that your hair, at last, dries fully, but it is under the palm of his hand, too, that you begin to uncontrollably tremble.

But those are not the trembles, which are so characteristic to your being. 

They are the shivers of illness that seep over you in waves, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. More violent, more restraining. Your state of weightlessness lessens, and in his embrace you are metamorphosed into a little girl in need to be taken care of. 

Yoongi sees that, too. 

Somehow you’re nestled in your bed, and somehow the scent of cinnamon percolates into the disorderliness of your senses, tickling your nostrils with such tenderness that the ‘no’ that begins to sound down your body is but a faint echo. Yoongi made you the tea that you never wanted to drink, that you instead wanted to keep on your nightstand, fall asleep with it tucked by the planes of your face, breathing it in until Jeongguk meets you in your dreams. But you didn’t have to go the extra mile—because as soon as your brother places two painkillers into your hand and holds your neck upright so you can swallow them with the tea without sputtering all over your sheets, Jeongguk already stands, waiting, at the far edge of your dream, which waits for you, too. Waits for you to fall asleep.

Yoongi pets you one last time before his weight lifts off the mattress. Your mind descends into a state of rest, flicking through your memories as if it were a photobook. The intricate frost pattern on the bus stop. Jeonnguk’s unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. The gust of white smoke of his vape rushing out of his mouth as he looked back at you. The way you almost held his hands by swathing them with yours around the vulgar cup. His arm, quick to reassure you at your abrupt outburst of emotion, but not brave enough—not yet. His eyes never lowering down to your naked body in the shower; those same eyes watching you intently in the mirror as you managed to deceive your brother so well. The joy that came after, the touches, the bravery. 

There Jeongguk stands—at the recollection of your joy. He takes your hand, with the limb that has been extended in the air for too long. How tired it must be, you think to yourself, as you grab a hold of his forearm with your other hand, how real he feels. His blood flow thumps under your palm and he guides you through this vast, treacly darkness to a place only he knows. 

To a meadow in the middle of spring, upon which you’re spread wide. To a meadow of golds, greens and granite blue, where he pins your hands down and hovers above you. To a meadow of fresh dew that soaks your hair damp, where he wants to play a game with you. 

Your hair is long—and it is a protective layer for your back so the blades of grass don't engrave dents into the porcelain skin of your back. Your cream-colored, flower-patterned sundress covers the backs of your thighs, but one of them is suddenly lifted. Not by your own will, but by the masculine yearning of the antihero above you, who folds his fingers into the crook of your knee just to sow a seed of kiss on its top. The clouds draw in, a chilly wind curves along the shine of your sweat upon your décolletage, and everything about his actions feels as though you’ve done it a thousand times before. 

And maybe you have. Who knows but the God of your father above since you must have slept too soundly to remember it the following morning. 

Here, in this flowering, vernal atmosphere, all is possible. There aren’t any lacks of yours that make your life difficult in the other world called reality. Here, you are yourself—and you are brave, beautiful and brimful of affection and touches without any outside forces disrupting this tender moment. 

No Yoongi, no issues. 

Jeongguk leans back, letting go of your hands that he held in his singular grip. Props an elbow on your knee and lopsidedly grins at you. There is the sun in the pearly white of his teeth, in the glimmer of his eyes, in the length of his pretty eyelashes—and there is the Spirit of God within the lines of his outstretched palms that he now shows to you. 

And a piercing on his lip.

“I’m sure you remember this,” he says, and for a split second you envision that he isn’t speaking of a game but of your secret, sleep-tinged memory of living a life with him beyond this parallel wildflower bubble. “We slap hands front-to-front, criss-cross, then front again. We go quicker and quicker each time until one of us fails to catch up and loses.” His grin blossoms like the petals of the primroses as he explains the rules, feeding your starved childhood memory of the game your primary school classmates played with each other but never with you. Of the game you always longed to play with your brother when you sadly went home, but he was never around—not until late at night when you were in bed and your pillow was cold with the way it was moistened with your forlorn tears. You shake that thought away; remind yourself that Yoongi isn’t here. He’s left. You’re alone in this parallel universe, alone with Jeongguk, but you just can’t shake him off. Not until the antihero continues to speak. “You don’t remember?” He chuckles, mimicking your little shakes of head. “I’ll help you remember. Let’s do a try level.” 

The wispy strands of his hair flutter against his eyelashes, the soft huffs of his laughter enveloping you in a cocoon that sinks you deeper into this dream with the comfort it evokes. It is a song, the poems of birds, and it inspirits you through and through. Enough that your mouth cracks into a drowsy smile, your palms lifting and brushing against his. 

The wonderful noises from his throat grow in volume. “No, not like this, bun.” 

Bun. It is a slow-motion movie, the way you blink as you take in that pet name, the way Jeongguk begins to focus on showing you how to play the game right, clothing you into the person of your little you as the smile withers from your mouth. It is a slow-motion movie, the way he splutters into giggles, gives up at the sight of your useless unmoving hands, and falls on top of you, his face in your neck, his mouth peppering kisses, made icy and vibrant with his piercing, at the spot beneath your ear—and the way you notice that the linen fabric of his white shirt has torn claw marks on his back that billow in the wind, the tattered endings flapping vigorously out in the open. 

You trace them, the bare skin, with your fingertip and Jeongguk shivers in the intimate embrace. 

You wake up with a dry, painful throat. To a full blue light beyond your windows and not the dragging dawn’s darkness extending across the sky. To a first that would get you scolded by your mother and looked down upon by your brother. 

You missed school. 

Your hair is matted to your head. Your clothes carry the stench of your sweat owing to your fever and when you glance down, you realize that your brother, at some point during your delirium, had taken off your denim jeans and slipped on your warm pajama pants. It is a small flame against the open fire that is burning quietly behind it, called to creation by your fever dream. The more you summon it up in your memories, the more it burns. Bun, those soft little kisses, the lip ring and how its coldness had a little bit of the winter you lived through with him, the largeness of Jeongguk’s palms and God inside them. God, you have touched. God, you have come to know in another person who might not even know him. Your father colors your mind as you recollect his devotion to him. 

But those lashes on Jeongguk’s back... you wonder what those meant. What the whole dream meant. How you’ll feel once you see him tomorrow on your lunch break. 

You dwell within that warmth until you plentifully come to your senses. Think you must have come a long way, crossed paths you could’ve never crossed before if it weren’t for the events that occurred—if it weren’t for the snow, for the weakness of your mental state, for Yoongi calling you at the wrong place and at the wrong time that was eventually right in all senses. Yoongi. How kind he was to you, how loving after a century of coldness and orders. How quick he was to take care of you and put you to bed, make you Jeongguk’s tea and hold your head upright while you swallowed your pills. 

The small flame flickers because you perceive that you have to get to your worst in order to receive love, and that is a sad revelation that settles like a burden over your shoulders, heaving them down. Another load, another reason to grieve being alive. 

You look over to your bedside table and like one reaches for a loved one, you reach for your copy of Dostoyevsky’s White Nights. Your papery comfort, a non-verbal being of trees that was shredded to construct a story for you to find your solace in. You open it to a random page, careful still to not break the spine, and you bring it to your nose and inhale. 

Grassy tones, melancholy, vanilla and meadows. 

Oh. Meadows. 

The Jeongguk that now lives in your memories faintly kisses that spot on your neck as your eyes skim the pages and they root at a passage that irrevocably impacts you, despite the fact you’ve read it countless times before. You now consume the Russian man’s words as a brand new person, altered by the dream you had and the life you lived with Jeongguk. It is as though you do so for the first time ever. 

A whole minute of silence passed. She did not look at me. I saw that she was in great agitation, that she was waiting for something. She was unable to stand it any longer: she suddenly burst into tears, hid her face in her hands, and ran away. I stood motionless, gazing after her.

The storyteller is a boy dreamily in love with a girl named Nastenka, who stomached a great deal of anguish in her life. She lived in a snare with her grandmother, whose blindness forced her to depend on the girl too violently. Like you are bound to your brother, Nastenka was physically bound by a thread to her grandmother—connected to her hip-to-hip, a thread sewn between their dresses so they could never part. It’s the reason why you adore this book so much. It makes you feel seen, known, understood in the sense that another person went through the same things as you did.

It makes you feel less alone.

In this passage, the storyteller is voicing out his feelings for her, but Nastenka loves someone else—someone who has offered her freedom from the stifling relationship with her grandmother. And because she has tasted this freedom, she does what she deems natural. Unable to stand it any longer … she ran away. 

All throughout the years you kept this book in the crevices of your soul, you found comfort only in the fact you felt understood, but now as you read the paragraph over and over again, you comprehend that it offers you something, too. 

A solution. 

The verb that lodged itself into your mind from Yoongi’s explanation of what happened to Holly comes darting through you at full speed: left. That something flickers in you once again as it did when it fled past your brother’s lips, and your eyes remain glued on the last words that complete the paragraph. 

She ran away. 

You wish you could. You can no longer tolerate bearing these burdens, the going behind backs, the stifling sensations, the act of earning love by being sick, by being in a bad condition, by doing well in school. You wish you could grab this book, Jeongguk’s vape, figs and cinnamon tea and run away to a place where no one knows you—where people are kinder and give you love, even though you did nothing to earn it. Who give you love like they give you food—the last of what they have, good for health, pleasurable for senses. 

Your legs swing over the edge of the bed and, like Nastenka, you hide your face in your hands. And for the last time in the longest while, you weep. Swear to yourself that you shall not again. The tears trickle down your cheeks in thick rivulets, the ones on the left side representing a self-hatred for yearning something so unattainable while the other ones cascade down with the venomous fuel that you simply ask for too much.

That you should get over yourself. 

That life isn’t about love. 

It’s a lie that carves out your heart and that gruesome flesh topples out of your chest and onto the cold floors. Your instincts nearly throw out the book with the same detestation, but your hands gently place it down beside it. Your feet take you out of that room before your heart starts to rot. 

As you walk down the hall, your hand skates across the double doors of your parents’ bedroom. Absorb the ghosts that cling to the wood, the silent echoes of your mother’s arguments thrown at your father. Your fingers wrap around the knob and they would try it to see if Yoongi locked it while you slept, but a strange sound averts you from doing so. 

A sound that the castle of doom hasn’t heard in years. 

A laughter. 

One that doesn’t belong to Yoongi. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[melancholy-of-nadia]

the a(myg)dala (explicit) | myg

title: the a(myg)dala (explicit) - series pairing: mafia leader/detective! agust d x right handman! f. reader ; gang leader! yoongi x right handman! f. reader rating/genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , thriller , smut ; haegeum au , my agustdverse summary: You wake up in a lavish bedroom with no recollection of memories of who you are. The only person who holds the key to this mystery is the owner of the house, Agust D, a mafia boss masquerading as a police detective. He claims you’re his right hand (wo)man and that he needs to protect you from someone who’s after you, as well as a treasure he’s searching for. With danger lurking and your memories a blank slate, can you trust Agust D to uncover the truth, or is there more to his story than meets the eye? note: i have been planning this in my head (like the delusional girly i am) since daechwita came out in 2020, but it wasn't until 2023 with the haegeum mv that it truly solidified me wanting to put together my thoughts to create this. i started out with Distraction and Infatuation as test one shots to gauge at the interest, and now it has lead me to create the first actual chapter of this series. this series is dedicated to my bestie the biggest yoongi smut luvr i know @daegudrama and to my favorite yoongi fic writers @jcoles and @theharrowing. also this is kinda unedited i apologize for any mistakes sndksfjladsafbjka i will edit later on. warnings: the following series is intended for a mature audience and may contain graphic language, graphic violence, weapons (guns/katana swords/chopsticks), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, gambling, murder, gang activity, memory loss/amnesia, sassy and on guard reader, unreliable characters, haegeum!agust d, haegeum!yoongi, tale of two MYGs technically, LMAO, TEAM SUGA! appearances as mafia men, assassins, slow burn, fight sequences, power imbalance, future smut scenes that may contain some bdsm elements, multiverse implications, tattoos, etc. drop date: october 29th, 2024, 9:00pm pst word count: 5.5k crossposted on ao3 – –

The world slowly comes into focus, the haze of unconsciousness lifting like a dissipating fog. You blink, your eyelids heavy as if weighed down by lead. The room around you is unfamiliar, dimly lit by a lamp on a nearby table. The scent of damp wood and something herbal lingers in the air. You try to move, but a sharp, throbbing pain in your head forces you to stay still.

Panic surges through you. Where are you? Why can’t you remember anything?

You glance around, the room’s details gradually becoming clearer. It is small and sparsely furnished, with wooden walls and a single window covered by a thick, faded curtain. But the strangest part is that you can't recall how you got here or what happened before. Your mind is blank, a void where your memories should be.

Well, almost blank.

Two things are certain in your mind: your name—whatever comfort that brings—and the image of a man, his face marked by a prominent scar, entering this very room. Yet, in the memory, the man looks different—his features more vivid, his clothing distinct. He is wearing a green jacket. You cling to that detail as if it were a lifeline in the sea of confusion.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the creaking of the wooden floor. You turn your head—slowly, cautiously—and see him. The man from your memory stands at the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and relief.

“You’re up? You’ve been asleep for a couple of days now.”

His voice is deep, carrying a warmth that contrasts with the sternness of his appearance. The scar on his face is unmistakable, and yet something about him seems off, like a piece of a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit.

“Who are—” you start to ask, but the words catch in your throat as a sudden, stabbing pain shoots through your temples. You wince, pressing a hand to your forehead as you try to steady your breathing.

The man’s eyes narrow, his concern deepening. “Easy, doll, don’t strain yourself. You’ve been through a lot.”

Doll?

His tone is soothing, but it only heightens your unease. Why does he look so familiar? And why does the memory of him in that green jacket feel so significant?

“I... I can’t remember… why can’t I remember?” you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of your fear and confusion. “I can’t remember anything, except your face. But you looked different... the green jacket...”

The man frowns, clearly troubled by your words. He steps closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if trying not to startle you.

“Listen,” he says gently, grasping your cheek. “You’ve been through something traumatic. It’s normal to feel disoriented. But you’re safe now, alright? We’ll figure this out together.”

His reassurance does little to ease the growing tension in your chest. As he speaks, you can’t shake the nagging feeling that there’s something he isn’t telling you—something important that lies just beyond your grasp.

But for now, with your head pounding and your body weak, all you can do is nod and hope that the answers will come soon.

His phone rings, the sound slicing through the uneasy quiet of the room. The man glances at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before pulling the phone from his pocket. He answers it without a word, his face hardening as he listens to the person on the other end. After a tense moment, he turns away, stepping out of the room.

The door creaks shut behind him.

You wait, the minutes stretching into what feels like an eternity. Ten minutes pass, then thirty, and still, there is no sign of his return. Your unease grows. Why hasn’t he come back yet? What was that phone call about?

The room feels smaller, the walls closing in as your anxiety gnaws at you. You try to stay still, but the silence is suffocating. You need to get out of bed.

With some effort, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, wincing as your body protests the movement. Every muscle feels sore, as if you’ve been through something physically draining. Your feet touch the cool floor, and you slowly stand, swaying slightly as the room spins for a moment. Steadying yourself, you look around, eyes settling on the door.

You have to investigate. You need to understand what is happening.

Just as you take a step toward the door, it swings open with a soft creak. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat as a new figure enters the room.

It is a woman, dressed sharply in a tailored black suit that contrasts her bright orange bob cut. She moves with an air of quiet confidence, her eyes locking onto yours with a steady, calm gaze. She seems close to your age, though something about her presence feels more mature, more composed.

“Hello,” she says, her voice smooth and professional. “My name is Adora. Apologies, as Mr. Agust had to step out unexpectedly, but he kept me up to speed with everything going on and told me to help care for you in the meantime.”

You blink, taking in her words, still processing the situation.

Mr. Agust? That’s his name?

Adora approaches the small table by the bed and sets down a neatly folded bundle of clothes. “I’ve brought you some clothes,” she adds, gesturing toward the bundle. “I imagine you’d want to change into something more comfortable.” She glances at you, wearing a white spaghetti-strapped nightgown. Yeah, you need to change out of this.

“Who… who is Mr. Agust?” you ask, your voice hoarse from disuse. The question has been burning in your mind ever since you woke up.

“Oh! The man who was just in here before me. Agust D,” she says happily. “He’s been looking after you since… well, since the incident.”

“The incident?” you repeat, confused. “What happened to me?”

Her smile fades, and a shadow of concern crosses her features. “I’m afraid that’s something only Mr. Agust can explain to you. He’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

She steps back, giving you space, and nods toward the clothes again. “Go ahead and take a shower before changing. I’ll wait outside if you need anything.”

And once again, you are left alone.

You grab the bundle of clothes, the fabric soft under your fingers as you unfold them. A white, long-sleeved collared shirt, a plaid skirt, and knee socks—an odd combination. Your brow furrows. Is this a school uniform? The thought seems out of place, considering everything else, but you push it aside. Right now, getting cleaned up and dressed feels like the first step toward reclaiming some control.

There is a small door beside your bed that leads to a bathroom. You open it and are greeted by a modest, clean space. The tiles are cool beneath your feet as you walk toward the shower. Your mind feels murky, still clouded by the lack of memory, and every detail around you seems both unfamiliar and strangely mundane at the same time.

As the hot water sprays down from the rain showerhead on the ceiling, you stand still for a moment, letting the warmth wash over you. It feels good, the steam wrapping around your sore muscles, loosening the tension that has built up since waking. Slowly, you begin to move, running your hands through your hair, watching the water swirl around your feet. You glance down at your body, your movements still careful, as though you fear something is waiting beneath the surface of your skin.

And then, you notice them—bruises. Small, fading marks dot your legs and arms, some yellowing at the edges, others still dark purple. Scrapes, too, healed over but unmistakable, mar your skin. You gently touch one on your forearm, wincing at the slight sting.

What happened to you? Frustration bubbles up inside you, making your throat tight. Every mark tells a story, a piece of the puzzle that should be obvious. But all you have are fragments, and none of them make sense.

You close your eyes, trying to summon any trace of a memory, something that could explain the bruises, the scrapes, the pain in your muscles. But there is nothing. Just emptiness.

Your hands shake slightly as you rinse off, the water turning from soothing to overwhelming. You finish quickly, the hot steam doing little to quell the storm of confusion and frustration rising within you.

Stepping out of the shower, you catch your reflection in the small, fogged-up mirror. You wipe it with your hand, staring at yourself, but the person staring back looks just as lost. No answers. No clarity.

With a sigh, you turn away and dry off, pulling on the strange outfit—first the crisp white shirt, then the plaid skirt and knee socks. The uniform fits well enough. Did you used to wear this before as well? You're left wondering too many things...

After slipping into a comfortable pair of slippers that you find beside the bed, you step out of the room for the first time. The hallway greets you with a soft, dim glow, revealing that evening has settled in. Shadows dance across the walls as you cautiously make your way forward.

Adora is sitting in a chair by your door, casually scrolling through her phone. At the sound of your footsteps, she looks up, her orange hair catching the light.

“Miss! All done? Do you need anything?” she asks, standing up swiftly with an attentive smile.

“Yeah, all done,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I just... want you to show me around. I’m having a little trouble recalling some things.” You hesitate, wary of revealing too much. If people know about your memory loss, they could use it against you. But surely Adora had been informed by Agust D beforehand, right?

Adora’s eyes softened. “No worries, Mr. Agust did mention this detail to me.”

You’re correct.

“I’ll show you around and get you updated on the things I’m cleared to inform you on,” she adds.

Cleared? The word hangs in the air, making you wonder just how much is being kept from you. Still, you nod. “That’s fine.”

Adora leads the way down the hall, and your tour begins. The mansion is far larger than you anticipate. As you move from room to room, it becomes clear that this place is no ordinary home. The architecture is grand, with high ceilings and long corridors lined with dark wood paneling and expensive-looking art. Every room seems carefully designed, exuding luxury and power.

Your bedroom is relatively simple compared to the rest of the mansion—modest in size with muted tones, though the bed is large and soft. Across the hall, Adora points out Mr. Agust’s room. Unlike yours, it is locked, and she makes no attempt to open it. The door itself is dark wood, with intricate carvings around the frame. You can only imagine what is inside.

Next, she leads you to his office. It’s a spacious room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a grand desk made of polished mahogany, and a large window overlooking a courtyard. Papers and files are neatly stacked on the desk, though Adora makes no comment about what they contain. The room has an air of importance, almost like a command center.

The kitchen and dining area are expansive. The kitchen, spotless and gleaming, is staffed with a few workers who nod politely as you pass. The dining room is more formal, with a long table capable of seating at least a dozen people. Crystal chandeliers hang overhead, casting warm light across the room.

The living room is one of the most impressive spaces—a large, open area with plush leather sofas, a marble fireplace, and a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The windows here are larger, revealing a darkening city skyline.

“Where are we?”

“We’re in Bangkok. Thailand.”

Bangkok? You know what that place is, but it’s not a location you expected to be in.

As you explore, you begin to notice more people moving through the mansion—mostly bodyguards, dressed in black and stationed at various points. Most of them seem to be Korean, their stoic expressions and quiet movements blending into the background. It’s strange to see so many of them here. A mansion in Thailand, filled with Koreans—it doesn’t add up.

Your curiosity gnaws at you, but you know Adora isn’t the right person to ask. Whatever this is, it feels delicate. You’ll have to wait for Mr. Agust.

After what feels like hours of walking through corridors and staircases, Adora finally leads you to the dining room, gesturing for you to sit at the long table.

“I received word that Mr. Agust has just arrived,” she says, offering you a gentle smile. “You’ll meet him here. The staff has set out some tea and desserts for you while you wait.”

You look at the table. A silver tray holds a pot of tea and an assortment of small pastries. The aroma is sweet and comforting, but the anticipation makes your hands tremble slightly as you reach for a cup and serve yourself some tea.

“I’ll come back to join you two, along with some of the other guards,” Adora continues. “Mr. Agust will be here shortly.”

Interesting. You’re not sure what to make of this situation.

The dining room grows quieter as you sit alone with your thoughts, nibbling on a cookie to stave off the nerves.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoes through the hallway outside the dining room. You freeze, your pulse quickening as the door swings open. A group of men enters, all dressed in dark suits, their expressions stern and composed. They move in unison, fanning out to take seats around the table, but one man stands out from the rest.

Agust D

He strides in with a commanding presence, his sharp eyes surveying the room as he walks. There’s an air of authority around him that makes the space feel smaller. His dark hair is slicked back, his expression unreadable as he takes the seat at the head of the table.

The sleeves of his shirt are stained red… You don’t want to know if that’s blood, but it’s the only thing you can assume.

 Adora re-enters the room soon after, gliding in with her usual grace. She takes her seat across from you, her calm demeanor unwavering as she folds her hands in front of her. The tension in the room is thick, though it seems invisible to her.

Agust turns to you, his gaze piercing but calm. "I hope you’re feeling a bit more settled," he says, his voice low and even.

Yeah, sure, settled, you think, fighting the urge to laugh. Settled is the last thing you feel in this... “house.” 

You nod slowly, feeling the weight of the room pressing down on you. “Yeah, I suppose,” you mutter, unsure how to respond. You reach for a cookie from the tray in front of you, more out of nervousness than actual hunger.

“I know this place might be overwhelming,” Agust continues, leaning back in his chair. “This is no ordinary home, as you’ve probably gathered by now.”

You swallow hard, the cookie crumbling slightly in your hands. No ordinary home is an understatement. The size, the guards, the secrecy—it all screams something far beyond the normal.

“To formally introduce myself, my name is Agust D. I’m the chief detective for the Asia-Pacific Police Force here in Bangkok. Comprised of officers from all Asia investigating international crime,” he says, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth as if daring you to believe him.

You nod slowly, though something about it doesn’t sit right with you. “That’s... interesting,” you begin carefully, “but I don’t think that’s all. There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“Smart girl. You’re sharp, I’ll give you that.” Agust’s eyes gleam, and a chuckle rumbles from his chest. “No, that’s not all.”

He leans forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “I am a leader of this mafia family you’ve been seeing.”

Your hand freezes mid-bite, the cookie slipping from your fingers and falling onto the table. Your heart skips a beat. Mafia? Your mind races. Organized crime? How the hell did you get involved in something like this? Fear snakes up your spine as your hands begin to tremble slightly. You can feel your throat tightening, your body responding to the panic rising inside you.

Agust’s eyes soften just a fraction, as if sensing your fear. “Relax,” he says, his voice calm, almost reassuring. “I’m not going to hurt you... you’ve been working for me for quite some time before all of this, after all.”

“Working for you?” you echo, incredulous. None of this makes sense. You shake your head, unable to comprehend. “Me? I... I don’t think so. I mean why would I–”

Agust’s smile returns, and he leans back in his chair, his hand disappearing beneath the table. “It is you,” he says firmly, interrupting you. Without warning, he tosses something across the table.

You flinch, instinctively reaching out to catch it—your hand closing around the handle of a heavy object. What the— A sword? Its weight is oddly familiar in your grip. You stare at it, eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat. The scabbard is intricately decorated with a blossom pattern that triggers something deep within you, something familiar.

You’ve seen this before... You’ve used this before.

Grainy and fragmented memories burst through your mind of a time when you’d used this. “Go ahead,” Agust says, his voice quiet but commanding. “Try it out.”

As if under a trance, your fingers move on their own, sliding the blade free from the scabbard. The polished metal gleams in the low light, its sharp edge whispering of battles fought and blood spilled. Before you realize what is happening, you have gotten onto the dining table, moving with fluid precision toward Agust that startles even you.

The bodyguards around the room react instantly, rising from their chairs and drawing guns, all pointed at you. But you don’t stop. You can’t stop. Your body moves on its own, and within a second, you are standing over Agust, the tip of your blade mere centimeters from his throat.

The room is dead silent. Agust doesn’t flinch. He merely raises a hand, a calm gesture to his men. The bodyguards look at him in hesitation, but slowly lower their weapons, keeping their eyes trained on you.

A chuckle escapes his lips. “Did that jog your memory?” he asks, his eyes gleaming with amusement, as if he has been waiting for this moment.

You stare down at him, your chest heaving, adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I... only a little…?” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the sword in your hand feels so familiar, so right, but your mind is still a blur of confusion.

“So much bloodlust you’ve got hidden in those eyes. Are you going to cut me down this time, doll?” he asks, his voice teasing, yet there’s a glint of seriousness behind his eyes.

This time? What does he mean by “this time”? 

Despite the odd question, your heart skips a beat.

“W-What?!” you stammer, not understanding what he means. You pull the blade away, stepping back and lowering it to your side. Your hands are still shaking.

Agust smirks but says nothing more about it. Instead, he leans back, seemingly unfazed by how close he has come to death. “So, do you want some of the answers I can provide?”

Enough of this cryptic stuff.

You blink, still trying to process what just happened. “Are you actually going to answer me this time?” you ask, your voice sharper than intended.

Agust chuckles, clearly enjoying this more than you are. “That depends on what you want to know.”

“Hmm…” You hesitate for a moment while Agust signals his men to sit back down. They sit down, resume their positions, and the tension in the room seems to dissolve as if nothing happened just moments ago.

“Now tell me, doll,” Agust says, leaning forward, his eyes locked onto yours with a predatory intensity.

“First of all, who am I? Why do you keep calling me ‘Doll’?” you shoot back, your tone sharper than intended.

Agust lets out a deep breath, almost as if your question bores him. “You don’t have a name, as far as I know, so I call you doll. It’s cute, isn’t it?”

You give him an exasperated roll of your eyes, and he chuckles, as if he expects nothing less. “But besides me, everyone else calls you ‘Dove’—your code name.”

“Why am I here?” you press on, hoping for a more substantial answer.

Agust’s grin grows wider. “Great to see you moving on to this point,” he says, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. “I’m protecting you. Your life is at stake, actually.”

You scoff. “Protecting me from…?”

“Someone.” His tone is vague, and your irritation flares at his refusal to offer more.

“Could you be any more vague?” you mutter, rolling your eyes again, daring him to give you something concrete. ���Who is it?”

Agust’s expression shifts, his jaw tightening slightly. He clearly isn’t used to being questioned like this. Just as he opens his mouth to respond, one of the bodyguards at his side, a man with sharp features and an intense gaze, speaks up.

“I don’t think you should ask that right now,” he says firmly. “Just for the sake of your life.”

“Yijeong,” another bodyguard—a much older man with long black locks of hair—warns in a low voice.

Yijeong shrugs, his eyes unwavering. “I’m just looking out for her safety.” It doesn’t sound sincere, to be completely honest.

Agust gives a subtle nod, silencing the exchange with a single glance. Then he turns back to you, his gaze slightly softened. “Anyway, it’s exactly as I said,” he continues, his voice smooth, almost practiced. “As part of my daytime role, I’m a detective. And I’m also an underground mafia boss.”

You stiffen, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a shroud. He isn’t done. “The person after you wants something that you hold the key to—something that we both want.” His tone is steady, a faint glint of ambition in his eyes. “I met you a few years ago and decided to let you live here, by my side, in hopes of finding it.”

You take a shaky breath, your mind reeling as you try to process this. “And I’ve been here ever since… as your right-hand man?”

Agust leans forward, his voice low yet intense. “That’s right. You were essential to our operations. I need you back in action, though. There’s a lot at stake here. We need to find this thing as soon as possible and get rid of this other person trying to kill you.”

You try to wrap your head around the idea that you’ve been living a life entrenched in the shadows of the criminal underworld, working closely with Agust and his organization—yet you can’t remember any of it. The weight of it presses heavily on you, disbelief twisting in your gut.

“So, you’re telling me,” you begin, your voice slightly unsteady but determined, “that I’ve been involved in this… mafia life all this time and now, because of some freak accident that you won’t disclose, I have not a single memory of it?”

“Precisely.” His eyes are fixed on you, unwavering. “Once you start easing into things again, I’ll tell you,” he says, his voice gaining an edge, “but now, I need you to decide.”

The frustration bubbles up within you, and without fully realizing it, you blurt out the most pressing question in your mind. “And what if I refuse?”

“Refuse?”

“Yeah, I mean, this sounds great and all… but I’m not about this mafia life and fighting whatever gang rival you have. Maybe you are mistaken about me.”

“Then…” A dangerous gleam flashes in Agust’s eyes, and before you know it, his hand moves beneath the table. In one swift motion, he pulls out a sleek, polished handgun, the metallic click echoing as he cocks a bullet into the barrel. You flinch, eyes widening as he aims it in your direction, his expression dark but laced with amusement.

“I’ll just kill you right here.” He pauses, letting the threat hang in the air before he lets out a dry laugh.

Holy shit.

What the fuck is that switch-up!?

You knew this man is insane, from the moment he handed you a katana and nearly let you cut him down.

He chuckles softly, an unsettling sound that made your heart race even faster. “Honestly, this could work in my favor anyway.”

Agust tilts his head, eyes narrowing as he keeps the gun trained on you. "Then he will never get his hands on you. Ending it here sounds like a fine choice, doesn’t it?” His tone is almost casual, as if he were discussing nothing more consequential than the weather.

Your throat feels tight, but you hold his gaze, refusing to back down. His words hang in the air, blending with the heavy silence of the room. The other men seated at the table look on, stone-faced, while Adora remains calm, her eyes studying you carefully. You can tell she’s a little worried for you.

“You really think you can just kill me off?” you manage, trying to mask the tremor in your voice. “All this talk about me being your right hand, about me holding the key to something you need. If I’m that important, you can’t just get rid of me. Then you’ll never find what you’re looking for.”

Agust’s lips curl into a smirk. “Oh, doll, I like that fire,” he says, lowering the gun ever so slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. Great, just what you need—a compliment from your potential murderer. “You’re right. I can’t just let you go that easily.”

He leans back, his gaze unwavering as he places the gun on the table, almost within reach yet tantalizingly out of yours. “Let’s make something clear,” he continues, his voice softening yet holding that sharp edge. “You’re right. You’re valuable to me, too valuable to throw away—at least for now.”

For now? That’s comforting. What does ‘for now’ even mean in this context? You thought you were friends for a long time by now. Doesn’t sound like it from this.

The tension in the room lessens slightly, though your pulse is still racing. Agust’s words feel like a reprieve, but only just; you know there’s always another game behind his every sentence, and the stakes are dangerously high.

“Alright,” you reply, forcing a bit of calm into your voice. “Then tell me more. You say I’m the key to something… What is it exactly?”

Agust shrugs, crossing his arms, his expression unreadable. “For now, let’s say it’s a treasure—one that’s extremely valuable to both me and… other interested parties.” He gives a small, almost lazy wave of his hand, brushing off the details as if they’re minor inconveniences.

“Other interested parties?” you press, sensing he’s holding back. “Like the person you’re supposedly protecting me from?”

Agust’s eyes narrow slightly, as though debating just how much he wants to divulge. He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair, and gives a curt nod.

 “Yes, exactly like that person. But don’t worry about…them,” he says, his voice dipping lower, almost like a threat wrapped in reassurance. “With me around, you’re safe. They won’t touch you. Besides, doll, you led them on quite a chase right before the accident that happened to you….And now, they know better than to mess with one of the biggest mafias in Bangkok, especially one that has the police wrapped around its finger.”

The words settle over you like a heavy blanket, the weight of the implications sinking in. You haven’t just ended up here by chance, nor is this some benevolent offer of protection. The people after you aren’t merely rivals—they’re people who chased you, people you evaded in the past. And now, you’re under the protection of not just any organization, but a criminal empire with authority woven tightly into Bangkok’s very fabric.

“Wrapped around your finger?” you echo, incredulous but with a hint of fascination you can’t suppress.

He smirks, leaning back in his chair as though he’s merely recounting a successful business venture. “Yes, Bangkok’s finest wouldn’t dare cross me. I’m a chief detective, after all. It’s all very convenient, don’t you think?”

Right, because every girl dreams of being involved with a chief detective who moonlights as a mafia boss. What’s next? A romantic comedy?

You feel your pulse throb in your temples in disbelief. “So that’s why they won’t come after me here?”

“Exactly,” he replies, his tone almost smug. “To come after you here would be a death sentence for them. And they know it.”

You mean, you can’t argue with that logic. Guess you’ll have to stick around this madness for a while.

You slowly slide off the table, feeling the lingering tension in your limbs as you settle back into your seat at the far end of the dining table. Agust watches you with that familiar smirk, clearly pleased with the subtle shift in your demeanor. Once seated, you exhale, steadying yourself before meeting his gaze again.

“And if you continue to stay here,” he begins, his tone softer but laced with intent, “there’s a chance your memories will eventually come back, piece by piece. Trying to leave and figure it all out on your own would be… risky, to say the least.”

He’s giving you an out, it seems, yet he isn’t. The faintest hint of a choice dangles in front of you, a chance to regain who you are—or escape before you learn too much.

Agust’s gaze never wavers. “If you want answers—if you want to understand what’s locked away in that mind of yours—staying is your best option.”

Adora’s gaze is unwavering as well, as though silently urging you to take Agust’s offer. You glance at the others around the table, all of them still and watchful, a powerful, immovable force surrounding you.

“And if I don’t stay?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs, though his eyes hold the barest glint of amusement. “Then I suppose you’ll be putting all that fire to good use. Running from a lot of people… including me.” His smirk softens, but his words are as sharp as ever. “The most dangerous game. It’s your choice, doll. But remember, what’s waiting for you out there isn’t likely to be as welcoming as here.”

Nice way to put it. A warm welcome with care followed by a bullet?

You lean back, trying to process everything. It’s surreal—being told you’ve been living some double life as the right hand to a mafia boss, that you’ve led people on a chase through Bangkok, and now, because of all this, there are people actively out to get you. Just yesterday… well, whenever “yesterday” is, you have no memory of this life. And now, Agust is offering you a choice. Either stay here and trust him to help you find yourself again, or leave and risk everything on your own.

You look down, hands fidgeting on your lap as you think it over. Realistically? You don’t have a lot of options. Even if you leave, where would you go? How would you survive with no memory of who you are? Just the idea of stumbling around Bangkok, a city you barely even remember, trying to outwit… whoever is after you seems like a suicide mission.

Besides, there’s something oddly reassuring about Agust, even if his methods are a bit terrifying. He doesn’t look like he’s about to pull any punches, and for some reason, that makes you trust him more. He isn’t hiding who he is or what he’s capable of, and he isn’t sugar-coating the risks. The entire mafia thing is insane, sure, but something in you stirs with a strange familiarity when he speaks about it. It’s as if you’ve known all along, buried somewhere deep down.

You steal another glance at him, noting how he’s watching you, calm and expectant. He isn’t pushing you, just waiting for you to come to a conclusion.

Finally, you sigh and look up, meeting his gaze. “Fine,” you say, exhaling as if to release the last bits of resistance. “I’ll stay. You protect me, and I… I’ll do whatever I did before and help you get what you’re looking for. If this is my best chance at getting those memories back, then I’ll take it.”

A satisfied smile curves Agust’s lips. “Good girl. I knew you’d come around.”

Adora, who’s been watching from across the table, gives a small and excited nod, and the other bodyguards exchange glances. The tension in the room eases, like the whole crew has been waiting for your decision.

“All right, then,” you say, half to yourself. “Guess I’m back to… whatever this is.”

Agust chuckles. “Welcome back to the family.”

–

–

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for this series! ➸ a(mygdala) pilot one shot #1 - distraction and one shot #2 - infatuation ➸ all fics masterlist

a/n: thank you so much reading! apologies for the very dialogue heavy first chapter in this series as I needed to set up the vibe and expectation of reader and Agust D. We'll get more into the mafia bitty gritty in the next chapter as well as eventual smut in later chapaters for these two before shit goes down hehehehe im sorry it'll be a bit of a wait since it's slow burn... but there will be a ton of charged up tension leading into it heheheheh

i had planned to release this earlier this month but after a very intensive job hunt for the past year + 7 months, i finally found a new job! yay! cries... so future updates will take some time. but please please feel free to send me your thoughts or suggestions on things you'd like to see in this series in the future and i will make sure to incorporate it. :) until next time!

[katnisspeetaprim]

Best Concert Ever

Min Yoongi/Reader

Summary: Its the first show of the Agust D tour, and you loved every second of it. Can be read as a sequel to happy birthday old man, or as a stand alone.

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, concert crowd, thats it?

Word Count: 964 M.list

Right now you couldn’t be happier. Tonight, April 26th 2023, was the opening night of Yoongi’s solo tour. You had travelled  with him from Korea to the US, so you could support him on the first leg, before flying home.

You had absolutely insisted that you watch the show from the crowd. Even though you had seen his rehearsals, you wanted to experience the show as it should be. In the crowd, jumping up and down, all whilst screaming your support. It took some convincing for Yoongi to feel comfortable with you being in the crowd, but you had to compromise with him, by standing in the v.i.p section right at the front, so his security could keep an eye on you. He really had nothing to worry about in the end. Those around you who recognised you were lovely and eager to talk to you, a few even asked you for pictures, which you happily agreed to.

You watched as Yoongi waved goodbye to the crowd as he quickly walked off stage. You couldn’t move for a second, as you processed everything you just saw. This man was simply amazing, and you were proud to call him yours.

‘Miss L/N?’ A voice suddenly pulled you from your thoughts. There was one of Yoongi’s security team stood before you.

‘I’ve been told to take you backstage.’ He held his hand out to you, motioning you forward.

‘Ah yes, of course!’ You quickly agreed as he helped you to climb, not so gracefully, over the barricade. You blushed in embarrassment when your foot got caught on the top and almost fell flat on your face in front of so many fans.

You followed behind the man until he reached the dressing rooms. He knocked once before pushing open the door. As you walked inside, you saw Yoongi was alone in the room. He was sprawled across the sofa with his shirt off, no doubt trying to cool down after the intense performance. His eyes lit up when he saw you, standing up.

‘Yoongi! Oh my God you were amazing!’ You basically threw yourself into him, arms pulling him into a tight hug, him gladly returning it.

‘You enjoyed the show then?’ He was still full of adrenaline as he embraced you, slightly shaking with excitement.

‘Are you kidding? It’s like the best concert I’ve ever been too!’ You finally pulled back, but kept your arms round his neck.

‘Alright, don’t exaggerate.’ He smirked, slightly shaking his head at you. You just smiled and bought him down for a deep kiss. His lips were slightly chapped from performing, but they were still soft against yours none the less. You parted his lips gently with your tongue and deepened the kiss, feeling him smirk against you.

‘I guess you really did like it huh?’ He chuckled as he rested his forehead against your own.

‘You know it.’ You laughed back.

‘I need to change. Give me a few minutes and we can go back to the hotel.’ He stretched and rolled his neck as he pulled away, groaning slightly as he moved his sore muscles. You sat quietly as you waited for him to freshen up.

‘We should have a mini celebration when we get back. Just us.’ You spoke suddenly, not quite ready for the night to end just yet.

‘What did you have in mind?’ He smiled at you over his shoulder.

‘To a great tour!’

‘A great tour.’ You clinked your glasses together before taking a sip of your vodka lemonade, Yoongi of course had a glass of whiskey.

You and Yoongi were sat on the hotel bed, clad in your comfy pyjamas and alcohol and take out containers scattered around the floor. The two of you could think of no better way to celebrate than this, just the two of you, eating junk food to your hearts content.

You planned on throwing him an actual party when he got back to Korea for his final show. An event with all his close friends and family to celebrate his success. For now though, this was enough.

‘Ok ok. I can’t drink anymore. I have another show tomorrow you know.’ He laughed as he threw his head back, finishing off his last drink.

‘Yeah, I’ll get drunk if I have much more.’ You agreed, rubbing the sleep from your tired eyes. It was quite late now, close to 2am but as you said. You didn’t want the night to end.

‘Yeah, you always were a lightweight.’ He pushed you playfully and you fell back against the bed with a playful thud.

‘We can’t all chug whiskey like it’s apple juice!’ You retorted, stretching out like a star fish.

He gathered up all the empty take out containers and bottles, and placed them outside your door for the hotel staff to pick up.

You turned off your bedside lamp and got under the covers. You reached your arms out to Yoongi, beckoning him over to join you. He got in and lay with his back towards you.

‘Can I be little spoon tonight?’ He asked without looking back at you. Usually he was the one to spoon you, but every so often, he loved to be held by you, especially after a long and tiring day.

‘Of course.’ You smiled softly and shuffled up close behind him. You wrapped your arm firmly round his waist, and placed a feather light kiss on his shoulder.

‘I love you Yoongi.’ You breathed against his shoulder/

‘I love you too.’ He whispered, bringing up your hand to his mouth to kiss the pads of your fingers.

‘Now go to sleep. I need my beauty rest.’ You chuckled lightly and snuggled against his back.

‘Whatever you say Yoongi.’

[soft-pxachy]

⤷  ❝sex hotline❞ — myg (s.m) pt. 1

➤ Pareja: yoongi x lectora!fem

➤ Recuento de palabras: 8.6k 

➤ Género: sexo telefónico! smut y obscenidad!

➤ Resumen:  La idea de tener tu primer orgasmo hablando con un extraño atractivo a través del teléfono te asusta muchísimo, pero tal vez no sea tan malo como crees, después de todo, Min Yoongi era el mejor en su trabajo.

➤ Advertencias: 18+ | lenguaje maduro y explícito | sexo telefónico | diferencia de edad (edad legal) | charla sucia | palabras sucias y picantes obviamente | masturbación (ambos) | dom!yoongi sub!lectora | la lectora es virgen | elogios y  ligera degradación | Yoongi es coqueto y sabe lo que hace y dice | sobreestimulación | semi-exhibicionismo | mucha mucha tensión sexual | la voz de Yoongi (sí es una advertencia) ➤ Si no eres mayor de 18 años, POR FAVOR, no leas. Si lo haces es bajo tu propia responsabilidad, ten en cuenta las advertencias.

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Min Yoongi se había convertido en el operador más solicitado desde que se unió a la empresa Delight, y tenía cientos de clientes esperándolo impacientes.

Yoongi se había demostrado a sí mismo que podía mantener a su boca en un muy buen uso; haciendo que hombres y mujeres se enamoraran de su voz profunda y sensual en una sola llamada telefónica. 

Sus palabras fácilmente podían hacer que cualquiera cayera en sus trampas; pintando escenarios oscuros y sexuales que sus clientes hubieran preferido mil veces experimentar en la vida real.

Y Yoongi no era tonto, él sabía que muchas personas querían escuchar su voz, sabía que tenia un gran ego y lo usaba completamente a su favor. Él sabía que su voz podía derretir a sus clientes, sabía cómo  hacer que la gente se corriera con solo decirles palabras pecaminosas y seductoras a través del teléfono. Y le pagaban ochenta dólares por hora.

Obsceno, frío y con una lengua afilada. Ese era Suga en tres palabras.

Y su personaje no tenía ninguna gran diferencia con su yo real.

Yoongi se sentó cómodamente en el colchón de su cama, levantando las rodillas mientras frotaba su creciente erección a través de sus pantalones de chándal delgados.

—Dime cuánto lo quieres, cariño. —Yoongi murmuró con su voz ronca y áspera a través de su teléfono hacia la persona al otro lado de la línea mientras fijaba su posición sobre el colchón. —Dime cuánto quieres sentir mi polla follando ese pequeño y mojado coño tuyo.

La mujer al otro lado de la línea gimió, fuerte, obviamente tocándose a sí misma. —Sí, sí. Quiero tanto tu polla, Suga…

Y Yoongi tuvo que hacer todo lo posible para evitar que un resoplido cayera de sus labios al escuchar el tono tan ansioso y necesitado de su voz.

—Mmh por supuesto que lo quieres, es una pena que no pueda estar allí contigo. Joder, te follaría tan fuerte y duro hasta que estés llorando. ¿Quieres eso?

—Oh Dios…  sí, sí, quiero que me folles así, por favor, por favor, ya casi llego…

Y ahí estaban, las palabras mágicas que encendían la excitación en su cuerpo, haciendo que Yoongi no pudiera pensar en nada más que en hacer que su cliente se corriera y que se sintiera satisfecha. Porque eso era lo que Yoongi quería. Satisfacción.

—¿Lo haces? Huh, qué pena, no creo que puedas manejar mi gran polla. —Yoongi gruñó sombríamente al escuchar a su clienta gemir de frustración ante sus palabras, y eso sólo alimentó más su ego .—Fóllate más fuerte por mí, ¿sí, cariño? Empuja esos dedos más profundo dentro de ese apretado coño tuyo. Mierda, mi polla está palpitando por ti, bebé. Muéstrame lo hermoso que suenas cuando te corres.

—Joder, Suga, justo así…

Yoongi agarró el teléfono con más fuerza, pudiendo escuchar los sonidos húmedos y lascivos al otro lado de la línea, lo que lo hizo morderse el labio inferior, la imagen que se formó en su mente lo estaba poniendo más duro a cada segundo que pasaba y sólo lo hizo comenzar a frotar su pene de arriba hacia debajo de una forma tan lenta y casi burlona; esparciendo el líquido preseminal que brotó de su punta por toda su longitud, gruñendo un par de ánimos sucios más a su clienta.

—Esa es mi chica, folla más fuerte ese coño, nena. Vamos, córrete para mí, ensucia tus sábanas, quiero escucharte…

—Dios, Suga, voy a correrme….

Y Yoongi sonrió diabólicamente al escucharla, sintiéndose tan complacido y realizado. Era uno de los mejores sentimientos, hacer que alguien se sintiera bien, incluso si él era solo un extraño con quien estaba hablando por teléfono. Su polla se retorció en el apretón de su mano al escuchar los gemidos de placer volviéndose más fuertes cuando por fin su clienta llegó a su orgasmo.

—Eso es todo, déjalo salir, bebé. Joder, te escuchas tan jodidamente deliciosa… —murmuró palmeando con más fuerza su erección sobre su puño; disfrutando con los gemidos ahogados y la respiración agitada de su clienta al otro lado. —Te corriste muy fuerte, ¿verdad, cariño? —preguntó en medio de una risita burlona. 

—G-Gracias, Suga. Eres el mejor.

Yoongi sonrió.— Me alegro de haber podido ayudarte, cariño.

—¿Te puedo llamar de nuevo la próxima semana?

—Por supuesto, pero tienes que esperar en la fila, bebé.

Ahí estaba T/n; contemplando si debería terminar su ensayo que literalmente debía entregar en una hora o llamar al número que estaba escrito en ese el papel que por accidente se le cayó a una de sus profesoras después de decirle lo espantoso que había sido el primer ensayo de su materia.

No la podían culpar, T/n había intentado devolverle el pequeño trozo de papel, pero su profesora ni siquiera le dio tiempo de hablar cuando salió del salón de clases maldiciendo a todo lo que se atravesara en su camino.

Y cuando T/n la inspeccionó de cerca, quedó más que confundida que al principio.

Suga

28 años

698-8876-203

Trato de averiguar de qué o quién podía ser ese número pero seguía sin saberlo, podría ser literalmente cualquiera y cualquier cosa. No era una tarjeta de visita habitual, o una tarjeta de presentación de alguna empresa, era solo la información personal de alguien escrita desordenadamente en una tarjeta blanca. Y eso le hacía sentir una inmensa curiosidad que la atraía como si se tratara de un imán.

—Suga… —T/n se susurró a sí misma y sus cejas se arrugaron con desconcierto.— ¿Quién diablos se llama Suga?

Volvió a repetirse esa pregunta mientras caminaba de un lado a otro en su habitación, pensando seriamente si debía marcar ese número misterioso que estaba escrito en la tarjeta. Eran las tres y media de la tarde, y ciertamente no pensó que su atención estaría cien por ciento es ese número misterioso en lugar de su ensayo.

Sí, podría ser la información privada de alguien y estaba siendo una completa entrometida, pero tal vez este hombre Suga quisiera recuperar su tarjeta, quién sabe.

Con un resoplido, se acercó a su mesita de noche y retiró el cargador de su teléfono, sintiendo instantáneamente como su corazón latía más rápido mientras marcaba lenta y vacilantemente el número extraño en su dispositivo.

—¡Joder, lo que sea!  —suspiró presionando el intimidante botón verde de llamada, escuchando su teléfono resonar el timbre una y otra vez haciendo que las palmas de sus manos sudaran cada vez más.— No debería… —murmuró por lo bajo recostándose en su cama, dándose cuenta de que esto estaba mal, pero cuando quiso colgar, la pantalla de su celular se iluminó anunciando que la llamada había sido contestada.

—¿Hola?

Mierda.

Espera,  ¿Qué mierda?

¡Esa voz! ¡¿Qué diablos era esa maldita voz baja?!

—¿Hola? — Se volvió a escuchar, pero T/n parecía estar en estado de shock.

El hombre al otro lado de la línea tenía una voz tan baja, oscura y áspera que hacía que su corazón diera vueltas y vueltas, y T/n mentiría si dijera que no la hacía sentir escalofríos.  

Yoongi dejó escapar una pequeña risita ante el silencio, rodando los ojos mientras fijaba su posición en la silla y levantando los pies sobre la mesa de madera frente a él.— No me hagas hablar solo, cariño.

Un jadeo repentino salió de los labios secos de T/n cuando el tono de su voz se volvió firme. Había un matiz estricto y dominante en la voz de aquel hombre que la hacía quedarse quieta; estaba demasiado conmocionada para responder mientras su mente intentaba comprender la situación en la que se había metido.

—Yo-yo… —tartamudeó de a poco, queriendo golpearse la cara al no ser capaz de formular una oración entendible.

Yoongi frunció el ceño ante eso, levantando una mano para jugar con su labio inferior antes de formar una sonrisa.— ¿Sí? —bromeó con un tinte de diversión. A pesar de que no podía escuchar su voz claramente como él quería, podía comprender que definitivamente era una mujer, una muy joven.

—T-tú eres uhm… ¿S-Suga? —T/n murmuró con nerviosismo apenas encontrando su voz para preguntar eso.

— El único.— Yoongi respondió ensanchando su sonrisa mientras despeinaba su cabello con la otra mano, comenzando a maquinar su siguiente movimiento para poder comenzar con su trabajo y darle una noche especial de puro placer a una nueva clienta.

—Yo, uh- alguien dejó caer tu... tarjeta con tu n-número en ella, ¿y supongo que la quieres de vuelta? — T/n se las arregló para preguntar aquello a pesar del temblor evidente en su voz.

Y no supo qué hacer cuando no recibió ninguna respuesta.

Hubo un silencio total y absoluto, y T/n quería cavar su tumba allí mismo, pensando que realmente había sido tonta al llamar a aquel número y decir eso. Y por otro lado, Yoongi no podía creer lo que estaba escuchando, intentó procesar cada palabra que dijiste, y una vez que lo hizo, entendió todo.

Kim Yejoon, la caliente profesora a la que le había dado su número la semana pasada, ¿Se le cayó la tarjeta?

Se pasó la mano por la cara con frustración, gruñendo profundamente al caer en cuenta de la situación, pero a pesar de eso, Yoongi sabía que no debería hacer de esto un gran problema, no había nada malo después de todo. Y además, tenía una nueva llamada para que la disfrutara.

Se encogió de hombros rápidamente, sin darle muchas vueltas al asunto antes de hablar.— Bueno, bebé, ¿sabes por qué le di mi tarjeta a ese 'alguien'?

Bebé. Él la había llamado bebé.

T/n casi estuvo a punto de suspirar de nuevo al escucharlo llamarla así, debía de admitir que su voz realmente le estaba haciendo algo a su cuerpo, esa voz monótona y profunda la estaba haciendo agitarse en su lugar y le costaba pensar correctamente.

—Uhm, ¿P-por qué? — T/n susurró, poniéndose cada vez más ansiosa y nerviosa al mismo tiempo.

—Esta es una línea directa de sexo telefónico, querida.

Y ahí T/n juró que su mandíbula casi se cayó al suelo al escuchar eso, joder, no había forma que su profesora supiera que este tipo Suga trabajaba como operador de sexo telefónico, ¿O sí? Dios, estaba segura que nunca volvería a verla igual después de esto.

—L-lo siento mucho... Dios mío, puedo volver, espera... No sé, tal vez pueda devolverle esto a...

—No tienes que estar nerviosa por eso, bebé.— Yoongi habló por lo bajo, casi en medio de un ronroneo que hizo que la respiración de T/n se cortara por el rápido giro de su voz, sonando tan sexy y sensual.

—¿Cómo?

—¿Cuántos años tienes? —Yoongi ignoró su pregunta mientras él mismo hacía una; dándose cuenta de que podría sacar algo divertido de toda esta situación.

—No sé si debería decírtelo… —T/n murmuró por lo bajo, e inconscientemente cerrando sus piernas en un intento de evitar que se excitara si seguía hablando con él.

—Oh, es una pena…— Yoongi habló con falsa inocencia en su voz y T/n juró que pudo sentirlo formar una sonrisa al otro lado de la línea.—Quería... ya sabes... hacerte sentir bien, al menos.

Y sus palabras fueron muy tentadoras. Demasiado.

En algún punto de su desordenada mente T/n se dio cuenta de que quería esto, algo de espontaneidad y adrenalina con algún extraño, no tenía nada que perder y tenía que vivir un poco al final de todo, esta sería probablemente la primera y última vez que experimentaría algo como esto, así que aceptó de inmediato.

—T-tengo diecinueve… —murmuró casi en un susurro esperando que aquel hombre no cortara la llamada tan pronto como escuchara su respuesta, pero no fue así, porque lo que recibió fue un audible gruñido al otro lado de la línea que le puso la piel de gallina.

Yoongi no pudo sorprenderse más de una buena manera, era muy raro para él recibir llamadas de clientes que no tuvieran veinticuatro años o más, y aquella jovencita podría ser su primera vez. Y la idea le gustaba más a cada segundo.

—Oh, nena… —resopló mordiéndose el labio inferior antes de agregar con una sonrisa pintando en todo su rostro.— Creo que eres la primera clienta que tengo que es tan joven.

Y tan pronto como T/n escuchó eso pudo jurar que una ola de calor recorrió todo su cuerpo; haciéndola removerse sobre la cama y respirar de forma densa y pesada.

—¿Eso es algo bueno? —preguntó agarrando con más fuerza su teléfono para evitar frotar sus piernas entre ellas; buscando algún tipo de fricción donde más lo necesitaba.

—Oh, depende, cariño. ¿Todavía quieres continuar? Puedo hacerte sentir realmente...— Yoongi habló con su voz ronca justo antes de hacer una pausa y gemir en voz baja para sí mismo ante lo que estaba imaginando.— Realmente bien…

Él ni siquiera estaba diciendo nada sexual todavía y T/n ya podía sentir sus bragas empapadas pegarse a su piel sensible.  ¡Esto no sucedería si su voz no fuera tan sexy!

—S-sí. —respondió después de pensarlo y en medio de un suspiro tembloroso.

La polla de Yoongi se retorció dentro de sus pantalones, excitándose con la simple idea de guiar a alguien probablemente nuevo en la vida sexual.

—¿Quieres decirme un nombre, cariño? Nombre real, nombre falso, algún apodo favorito, como quieras que te llame. —preguntó con calma ajustando su posición sobre el sofá.

¿Era malo que T/n quisiera escuchar a este extraño decir su nombre con su voz profunda y tan jodidamente sensual?

—¿Me prometes que no me hackearás o algo así? —preguntó por lo bajo aún sintiendo irreal toda esta situación en la que estaba.

Y Yoongi se rio ante eso, encontrando realmente adorable esa pregunta. Su tono oscuro era todo lo contrario de tu tono dulce e inocente, se le hizo realmente lindo hablar con alguien con una voz tan animada y adorable, al menos para él.

—¿Hackearte? Oh, bebé… —comenzó a hablar antes de chasquear su lengua aún divertido. —Estás hablando con el mejor operador que existe, gatita. Otros clientes estarían celosos de que estés recibiendo toda mi atención en este momento, y no ellos. Estás a salvo conmigo, te lo prometo.

El rostro de T/n se enrojeció por completo al escucharlo, dándose cuenta de que si aparentemente era el “mejor” entonces eso significaba que hacía bien su trabajo, ¿verdad?

Bueno, fuera lo que fuera, ya era demasiado tarde para echarse atrás.

—Bueno, uhm... soy T/n.

Yoongi se mordió el labio, cada vez más emocionado. No podía esperar a que experimentaras lo que estaba a punto de darte.

—T/n… —Tu nombre sonaba tan sensual cuando él lo decía, y T/n pudo jurar que la atmósfera en su habitación de repente se volvió cien veces más caliente con sólo escucharlo decir su nombre de esa forma.— T/n, estás de acuerdo con lo que estamos a punto de hacer, ¿verdad? ¿Tengo tu pleno consentimiento?

—Mmh-ju… —T/n musitó sintiendo su corazón bombear rápidamente en su pecho, nerviosa porque realmente se había dado cuenta de lo que estaba a punto de hacer. Sexo telefónico. Un jodido sexo telefónico.

Todo su cuerpo se estremeció de repente y un dio un pequeño brinquito sobre la cama al escucharlo  gruñir inesperadamente y a su voz volverse más dura y firme antes de hablar. —Quiero escuchar palabras, niña.

—S-Sí señor. —T/n respondió de inmediato, no queriendo molestarlo más y que pudiera dejarla con el calor a tope en su cuerpo, sin darse cuenta realmente de lo que había dicho.

Mierda.

Los ojos de Yoongi se agrandaron en estado de shock y su mandíbula se abrió mientras procesaba todo; como operador de sexo telefónico había experimentando múltiples fetiches y roles que le pedían sus clientes y sabia como manejar cada llamada que venía con esas instrucciones para hacer todo lo que su cliente deseara, pero ciertamente no esperaba que esa palabra repentina saliera de tus labios.

Echó su cabeza hacia atrás, cerrando los ojos por un breve momento mientras sentía como su pene se endurecía cada vez más.. Era muy difícil para él contenerse porque todo lo que quería hacer era decirte las cosas más sucias y desagradables contra tu oído. Él quería cumplir todas tus sucias fantasías que no sabías que tenías, pero sabía que necesitaba reducir la velocidad.

—¿Señor? Oh, ¿Qué te hace llamarme así, bebé? —preguntó con un tono arrogante cubriendo su voz mientras palmeaba de a poco su dura erección; haciéndolo sisear ante la sensación.

—N-No lo sé… —T/n murmuró completamente sonrojada, sentía su garganta seca y no sabía qué responder sin sentirse tan avergonzada.

—Oh, sé que jodidamente lo sabes, T/n. Te excita, ¿verdad? ¿Quieres que alguien te domine, cariño? —preguntó con dureza y sin poder evitar sonreír con orgullo al escuchar el pequeño gemido silencioso que ella dejó escapar. —¿Qué haces cuando alguien te hace una pregunta? ¿Mmh?

Yoongi volvió a preguntar y el tono de su voz hizo que T/n se removiera impaciente sobre la cama, sintiendo como la humedad en su entrepierna hacia que sus bragas mojadas se frotaran incómodamente contra sus pliegues, él tenía toda la razón en todos los sentidos posibles. Quería que alguien la dominara, alguien que la controlara en un plano puramente sexual, era una de tus mayores fantasías.

—Sí, s-señor. Yo quiero eso. —T/n respondió tímidamente por lo bajo.

—Oh cariño, no tienes por qué ser tímida conmigo. ¿Estás sola? 

—Sí, señor. —T/n volvió a responder de la misma forma dócil de antes, dirigiendo su atención a la perilla de la puerta como si alguien estuviera a punto de irrumpir en su habitación, sintiendo todo su cuerpo temblar al escucharlo reír.

—Entonces no hay nada de qué preocuparse. Sólo somos tú y yo, nena. Ahora, antes de que podamos pasar al lado más... divertido, quiero ser un poco neutral por ahora, ya que es tu primera vez. Así que dime, ¿cuándo fue la última vez que te follaron?

Neutral. ¿Eso fue neutral?

T/n podía sentir a la perfección su rostro arder en vergüenza ante sus palabras y tuvo que cerrar sus ojos con fuerza mientras trataba de controlarse. Su voz la volvía loca, y hacía tanto calor que si no fuera una tímida virgen ; podría haberse masturbado todo este tiempo hablando con él.

—Uhh… — T/n musitó antes de reírse nerviosamente. —Y-yo... no he... todavía no…

—Oh, Dios mío, cariño… —Yoongi gimió por lo bajo al escucharla; apretando el grosor de su polla con más fuerza aún por encima de sus pantalones.— Lo siento mucho… —agregó soltando una risita mientras movía su cabeza de un lado a otro.— ¿Aún quieres seguir con todo esto?

—Sí, sí señor. Por favor, lo quiero. No me importa, por favor solo… —T/n habló en medio de un suspiro tembloroso, cerrando los ojos con fuerza dándose cuenta de su estado. —Estoy muy excitada en este momento y...

—Oh, cariño, está bien, ¿sí? Sé lo que quieres. —murmuró con calma al otro lado de la línea.— Es mi trabajo hacerte sentir bien nena, no tienes que preocuparte.

—Está bien… —T/n exhaló al mismo tiempo que asentía con su cabeza, como si él la pudiera ver.

—Dime lo mojada que estás para mí, T/n. —Yoongi preguntó con su voz varias octavas abajo, moviendo su mano de arriba abajo por toda la longitud de su erección que se cernía dura entre sus piernas abiertas, pero aún sin liberarla de su confinamiento.

T/n no dudó ni siquiera un segundo en obedecer su orden, llevando su mano libre por debajo de su short para presionar sus dedos ligeramente contra su coño vestido, haciéndola gemir cuando frotó de a poco sobre la mancha de humedad en sus bragas, estimulando de a poco su pequeño y necesitado clítoris, sólo haciéndola sacudir sus caderas hacia arriba en busca de más fricción.

—Estoy muy mojada, s-señor. —habló en un gemido bajo y estrangulado.— Mis bragas están húmedas p-por tu culpa.

Ni siquiera podía creer que en realidad ella estuviera hablando de esa forma tan sucia, hizo todo lo posible por no sonar tímida, pero simplemente no podía evitarlo, toda la situación la estaba sobrepasando, y la voz de aquel hombre al otro lado del teléfono la hacía sentir más caliente a cada segundo que pasaba.

—¿Si? ¿Te estás tocando, bebé? —Yoongi arrulló con voz burlona disfrutando con su respiración agitada; casi pudiendo escuchar los movimientos que hacía.— Joder, las cosas que le haría a tu precioso coño si estuviera allí contigo, T/n… —habló y sus palabras solo la hicieron querer seguir escuchándolo.— ¿Quieres saber?

—Sí, sí señor, por favor… —T/n respondió y su tono desesperado la hizo temblar sobre la cama.

—Mmh, eso es lo que quiero escuchar. —Yoongi murmuró finalmente decidiéndose por deslizar su mano debajo de sus pantalones; agarrando firmemente la gruesa circunferencia de su polla y dejando escapar un gemido gutural ante el contacto.— Comenzaría por comerte el coño, bebé. —admitió y casi tuvo que reprimir una risita al escucharla gemir ante sus palabras. —Imagina mi lengua lamiendo una y otra vez tu bonito y mojado coño, bebé. ¿Puedes sentirlo?

T/n dejó escapar jadeo desesperado cuando sus dedos recorrieron delicadamente de arriba hacia abajo justo por la mitad de su coño, imaginando que él estaba con ella, diciéndole exactamente qué hacer y casi pudiendo sentir su lengua húmeda y caliente arrastrándose entre sus pliegues con fervor, podía sentir la humedad filtrarse a través de la tela de sus bragas mojando sus dedos y eso la hizo quejarse.— Sí, señor.

—Tócate, T/n. Juega con tu coño mientras escuchas mi voz.

—Lo estoy haciendo, pero por favor... ¿Puedes… —T/n sollozó por lo bajo ante su orden, no queriendo hacer nada más que darse un poco de placer con ayuda de su sensual y erótica voz. —¿Puede ayudarme, señor?

—Oh, qué niña tan obediente tengo aquí. —Yoongi sonrió ante eso al mismo tiempo que con sus dedos esparcía el líquido preseminal que escurría de la punta por toda su dureza; usándolo como lubricante, excitado con la simple idea de que aún necesitabas ayuda para tocarte, y por supuesto que él estaba encantado de ayudarte.— Lleva tus dedos a tu clítoris, gatita, comienza a frotar suavemente ese pequeño botón para mí.

T/n siguió sus instrucciones y obediente llevó sus dedos hacia arriba, frotando de a poco sobre su clítoris y gimiendo al sentir un repentino rayo de placer recorrer todo su cuerpo una vez que aplicó presión.— A-ah, s-señor…

—Mmh, se siente bien, ¿no es así, cariño? Solo sigue tocándote bebé, hazte un favor y desvístete por completo. —ordenó segundos antes de escucharla asentir levemente y comenzar a quitarse la ropa lo más rápido que pudo.— ¿Escuchas bien las instrucciones verdad? Eres una buena niña.

—Oh… —T/n musitó al escucharlo, sin poder evitar sonrojarse ante la forma en que sonaba ese apodo cariñoso saliendo de sus labios, haciéndola subir de nuevo a la cama y hundir las manos entre sus piernas, a espera de una nueva orden.

—¿Quieres jugar con tu pequeño coño hasta que te corras, bebé?

¿Cómo podían sus palabras crear un efecto tan grande en ella? T/n podía sentir su rostro calentándose a cien grados mientras se permitía volver a disfrutar del maravilloso placer que le estaban dando sus palabras tan sucias. Cerró los ojos cuando sus caderas se empujaron hacia su mano, y sus dedos fueron rápidos en volver a frotar lentamente círculos delicados en su pequeño punto de placer.

—Señor, ayúdeme, por favor. —T/n pidió inocentemente tratando de mantener a raya los gemidos que amenazaban salir de sus labios.

—Es un placer, gatita. Para eso estoy aquí, ¿verdad? —Yoongi gruñó mientras liberaba su polla de su confinamiento, saliendo disparada hacia arriba entre sus piernas; completamente duro como una roca.— Maldita sea bebé, escucharte me ha puesto tan duro…

Y T/n soltó una respiración áspera ante eso, jugando con su clítoris cada vez más rápido, mojándose más y más cada segundo que pasaba, antes de que su voz la hiciera temblar.— Tu pequeño coño debe estar tan desesperado por una polla, ¿eh? ¿Es eso lo que quieres?

—S-señor… —T/n gimió con los ojos cerrados mientras se concentraba en su voz caliente.

Yoongi gruñó entre dientes cuando comenzó a bombearse a sí mismo, usando el líquido preseminal para humedecer su polla en cada firme movimiento, imaginándose que era tu mano apretando su polla  y con tus ojos mirándolo dulcemente, probablemente nerviosa por tomar una polla por primera vez.— Bebé, quiero escuchar cómo te corres por primera vez, debes sonar tan jodidamente hermosa…

Y eso hizo que T/n jadeara con fuerza, moviendo sus dedos más rápido sobre su clítoris intentando alcanzar su nivel máximo de placer, los gruñidos de Yoongi en su oído la hacían sentir increíblemente mas húmeda, se lo imaginaba sentado en algún lugar, follándose con su mano mientras escuchaba sus pequeños gemidos, todo se sentía tan bien, y deseaba tanto haberlo hecho antes.

—Cariño, joder, me estás volviendo loco. Si yo estuviera ahí contigo te daría tanto placer, T/n. Te haría correrte más rápido y más fuerte de lo que tus pequeños dedos pueden hacerlo. Te encantaría mi lengua en tu lindo coño, y a mí me encantaría tanto probarte…

—Oh, señor… —T/n gimió con fuerza, dejando caer su cabeza hacia atrás sobre la cama retorciéndose de puro placer, sus sucias palabras hicieron que su estómago se revolviera y que su interior se apretara alrededor de la nada, formando un nudo incómodo en su vientre que parecía que se rompería en unos segundos.— Creo que voy a…

—Oh, ¿vas a correrte para mí, cariño? —Yoongi habló soltando una pequeña risita arrogante mientras escucha sus gemidos resonar cada vez más fuerte y desesperados, haciéndolo acariciar su pene más rápido, sintiendo las fuertes oleadas de placer correr por sus venas con cada firme movimiento de su mano en su pene endurecido.— Suenas tan jodidamente adorable. No puedo dejar de pensar en lo bonita que sonarías en la vida real.

—Señor, e-estoy tan cerca… —T/n lloriqueó frotando su clítoris más fuerte y más rápido, con el sudor acumulándose en su frente y con sus mejillas al rojo vivo, deseando que él estuviera con ella para que le hiciera todo lo que le estaba diciendo.— ¿Puedo, ah, puedo correrme por favor?

—Qué buena niña, pidiendo permiso primero… —Yoongi suspiró profundamente ante el tono desesperado en su voz, y dejó escapar un fuerte gruñido cuando frotó el glande enrojecido e hinchado de su pene con su pulgar, imaginando que era tu caliente y húmeda lengua contra su punta queriendo probar todo de él. —¿Quién te está haciendo sentir bien, hm?

—Tú, tú s-señor, por favor… —T/n suplicó tratando de contener su orgasmo tanto como pudiera hasta que él le diera el permiso de hacerlo.

—Así es, cariño. Joder, nunca había tenido un cliente tan obediente como tú, eres una chica tan buena…

—Señor… no puedo contenerme más, por favor, por favor… —T/n volvió a lloriquear por su orgasmo, podía sentir el nudo en su vientre volverse más apretado, podía sentir sus piernas temblando y podía sentir sus dedos mucho más resbaladizos y cubiertos con su humedad mientras seguía tocándose.— P-por favor, solo…

Yoongi se rio por lo bajo de su desesperación, moviendo con más fuerza su mano sobre su pene y sintiendo como el cosquilleo se acentuaba en su pelvis de la misma forma, el simple hecho de que él fuera el primero en ayudarla a darse placer y hacerla sentir bien aumentaba por demás de su excitación y ya podía sentir que él también estaba cerca.

—Córrete para mi bebé, quiero escucharte. —Ordenó en medio de un gruñido y con su voz agitada.

Ni siquiera necesitó decir algo más que cuando escuchó sus gemidos agudos y rotos le fue imposible no formar una sonrisita orgullosa en todo su rostro, podía escuchar los sonidos húmedos de su orgasmo rompiéndose en su cuerpo y podía escuchar su respiración acelerada y errática.

—Joder, s-señor… —T/n lloriqueó apenas siendo consciente de lo bien que se sentía todo este placer acumulado dentro de ella, su cuerpo estaba flotando con la intensidad de su orgasmo, apretó con más fuerza su teléfono mientras intentaba bajar de su nube de placer aunque parecía casi imposible, con su vista borrosa apenas enfocándose en nada más que el dulce éxtasis de su liberación.

El sonido de los gruñidos guturales de Yoongi en su oído la hicieron temblar en su lugar, ahí supo que él también había llegado y todo su rostro se enrojeció al imaginar su semen brotando de su pene; manchando sus dedos y abdomen, y la simple imagen la hizo jadear por lo bajo.

—Esa es mi chica, ¿Te gustó, cariño? —Yoongi preguntó después de unos largos segundos donde solo se escuchaban sus respiraciones agitadas a través de la llamada.— ¿Cómo te sentiste?

—Muy bien, señor… —T/n admitió con su pecho subiendo y bajando buscando relajarse.

—¿Hiciste un desastre en tus sábanas, bebé? —preguntó cerrando los ojos ante la simple imagen antes de recibir un pequeño asentimiento por parte de T/n haciéndolo reír.— ¿Esperabas que tu primer orgasmo sucediera así.

Y al escuchar esa pregunta T/n casi juro que quería que la tierra se tragara viva, no lo había hecho, en absoluto, y tener la revelación de que acababa de tener su primer orgasmo con un extraño a través del teléfono, mientras él le hablaba sucio, mientras él se corría con ella, le hizo sentir una terrible vergüenza.

—L-lo siento, eh... yo no... yo no... —T/n balbuceó moviendo su cabeza de un lado a otro, sin saber qué decir exactamente para dejar de sentirse así.

—¿Por qué te disculpas, gatita? —Yoongi preguntó al notar su cambio y bajando el tono de su voz, sabiendo lo mucho que a la gente le encantaba cuando lo hacía.— ¿Estás avergonzada?

—Yo-yo...

*llamada terminada*

Inmediatamente T/n lanzó su teléfono al borde de la cama, sintiendo sus  manos temblar mientras caía en cuenta de todo lo que había pasado.

¿Por qué diablos había hecho eso? ¿Por qué simplemente no cortó la llamada antes de que las cosas llegaran hasta este punto? ¿Por qué no podía negar que le había encantado tanto escucharlo decirle todas esas cosas y la forma en la que hizo correrse con solo su voz?

Miró su cama hecha un desastre y sus dedos cubiertos con su orgasmo y sus mejillas ardieron ante la vergonzosa vista.

¿Qué se suponía que debía hacer? Ya se sentía lo suficientemente avergonzada y humillada con todo lo que pasó, y solo podía pensar en lo que aquel hombre estuviera pensando de ella, cortando la llamada después de haberla hecho correrse sin siquiera un gracias.  

—¡Por qué! ¡Qué carajo! —gritó con frustración poniéndose de pie mientras caminaba como un pingüino torpemente hacia el baño para limpiarse.

Era imposible mirar a su profesora de la misma manera que antes. T/n ni siquiera pudo concentrarse en todo lo que duro su clase porque sólo estaba pensando que se suponía que su profesora pasaría una noche caliente de sexo telefónico si le hubiera regresado la dichosa tarjeta.

Si se la hubiera devuelto como la buena estudiante responsable que era, ¡Entonces ella podría haber tenido el mejor momento de su vida y no estaría siendo un dolor en el trasero para todos los alumnos justo ahora!

Esto era tan trágico.

Y cuando regresó a su casa la realidad la golpeó como una bofetada en la cara, mirando detenidamente la espantosa tarjeta que estaba colocada en su mesita de noche, encogiéndose al recordar lo que había sucedido el día anterior.

Pero no podía dejar de pensar en él. En Suga.

Durante toda la mañana, él fue lo único que ocupó su mente. Su voz. Su elección de palabras tan lascivas. La forma en que la hizo sentir. La forma en que la hizo correrse.

Demonios, quería volver a sentir eso.

¿Qué pasaría si lo volvía a llamar?

Todo su cuerpo rogaba por volver a sentir esa sensación de euforia, volver a sentir la forma en que sus piernas temblaban cada que escuchaba su profunda voz, guiando sus movimientos para darse placer, o la forma en la que sintió mariposas en el estómago cuando tuvo su primer orgasmo, deseaba sentirlo una vez más.

—No, no… —se dijo a sí misma sacudiendo la cabeza.

Además, él probablemente terminaría la llamada inmediatamente que supiera que era ella de nuevo, ¿verdad?

Estaba tratando de ser inteligente, de pensar con la cabeza fría, pero el calor en todo su cuerpo le hacía las cosas difíciles. Quería volver a escucharlo, escuchar su voz profunda y áspera en lo más profundo de su ser. Quería que le dijera qué hacer, que la controlara, incluso si en realidad no estaba aquí con ella. Su voz era realmente embriagadora, tenía que admitirlo, pero ¿Era la decisión correcta llamarlo de nuevo?

Al carajo, ¿Dónde estaba la diversión entonces? ¿Dónde estaba la adrenalina de hacer algo que no estaba correcto sólo para poder disfrutar un poco?

Así que cuando menos se dió cuenta ya estaba tomando su teléfono y la tarjeta blanca, sus pulgares marcaron rápidamente el número y el timbre de la llamada sonó inmediatamente, y allí estaba de nuevo, las palmas de sus manos sudando, el agarre apretándose alrededor del teléfono mientras esperaba que él respondiera, como la última vez.

Pero esta vez no fue tan rápido en responder. Su teléfono emitió un pitido, lo que indicaba que la pusieron en espera, así que espero lo que le pareció una eternidad, pero la pantalla de su teléfono marcó que solo había sido un minuto y veinticinco segundos.

Tal vez no debería haber hecho esto…

—Hola.

Oh no.

Su voz era absolutamente igual a como la recordaba, y T/n sintió inmediatamente el cosquilleo familiar circulando por todo cuerpo, con la sensación disparándose hasta su centro.

—Hola… —respondió por lo bajo, mordiéndose el labio justo después mientras trataba de evitar que sus rodillas le fallaran. —Soy yo, T/n.

Y el cuerpo de Yoongi se congeló al escucharla, deteniendo sus pasos a mitad de su camino hacia la nevera para tomar un poco de agua, esto era mucho más importante.

No dijo nada mientras se sentaba en su sofá, juntando las cejas. No podía creer que lo hubiera llamado de nuevo después de su abrupto corte la noche anterior.  

—¿T/n? ¿Estás bien? —preguntó a los pocos segundos. —¿Por qué... por qué llamaste?

T/n frunció su entrecejo ante sus palabras, no tenía ese mismo tono seductor y oscuro en su voz, se escuchaba demasiado dulce, hasta preocupado.

—Mmh quiero… —T/n comenzó a hablar aclarándose la garganta de a poco y buscando las palabras adecuadas para decir. —Bueno, quiero hablar contigo de nuevo…

Y Yoongi simplemente no pudo luchar contra la sonrisa que se deslizó en sus labios, mordió su labio al instante de escucharla y desviando su mirada hacia sus pantalones; sintiendo como su pene se endurecía con solo el recuerdo de la noche anterior, no lo entendía, ella no estaba haciendo nada y tenía un gran efecto en él.

—¿Ah, si? —murmuró de forma arrogante y el cuerpo de T/n tembló por la forma en que pronunció esa simple palabra.— No puedes tener suficiente de mi voz, ¿verdad, bebé?

—No… —T/n respondió tímidamente, recostándose sobre la cama y tratando de ponerse cómoda.

—Eso pensé. Disfrutaste la última vez que hablamos juntos, ¿eh? Pero, ¿Por qué terminaste la llamada tan rápido, bebé? Yoongi preguntó fingiendo un tono de decepción en su voz sin borrar su sonrisa antes de agregar. —Quería hablar contigo un poco más.

Y T/n pudo jurar que su corazón casi saltó fuera de su cuerpo con esas palabras, la atmósfera en su habitación rápidamente se volvió más espesa a medida que trataba de pensar en las palabras correctas para decirle, pero a Yoongi le encantaba bromear con ella, sentándose mejor en su sofá con una gran sonrisa en su rostro, imaginando que probablemente ella estaría sonrojada en este preciso momento.

—No es necesario que respondas si te sientes incómoda…

—¡No! No, es eso… —T/n se apresuró a responder saliendo de su trance.— Está bien. Lo hice porque estaba demasiado avergonzada, porque… bueno…

La risita que Yoongi dejó escapar la hizo temblar en su lugar. —Shh, shh. No digas nada más, sé lo que quieres decir y lo entiendo completamente. Además, llamaste para pasar otro buen rato, ¿O me equivoco?

—Sí… —T/n susurró por lo bajo, deslizando una mano entre sus pantalones cortos mientras para comenzar a jugar con el borde de sus bragas. —¿P-Puedo tocarme, señor?

Yoongi soltó un profundo suspiro al escucharla, excitándose de inmediato, el hecho de que le pidieras permiso hizo que se palmeara su polla a través de sus jeans.

—Mmh, que buena niñita tengo aquí, pidiéndome permiso, como la última vez. —habló antes de reír por lo bajo al escucharla jadear ante sus palabras. —Adelante bebé. Toca tu pequeño coño como te enseñé.

Y en el momento en que comenzó a escuchar los pequeños gemidos y maullidos silenciosos lo hicieron morderse el labio y dejar el celular a un lado para poder desabrochar su pantalón, bajándolo junto a su bóxer hasta la mitad de sus muslos; liberando su pene medio duro.

—¿Quieres que te ayude a correrte de nuevo, bebé? ¿Quieres oírme hablarte sucio mientras te tocas? ¿Hum?

—Sí, sí, p-por favor… —T/n respondió rápidamente, asintiendo con su cabeza como si él pudiera verla mientras jadeaba más fuerte; podía sentir lo húmedas que se estaban poniendo sus bragas mientras seguía frotando lentamente su clítoris por encima de la tela.

—Buena niña. —La elogió comenzando a mover su mano de arriba a abajo sobre su ya dura y palpitante erección antes de hablar en medio de un gruñido.— Mierda, todo lo que quiero es sentir tu lengua contra mi polla, T/n… —murmuró echando su cabeza hacia atrás sobre el respaldo, con los ojos cerrados mientras dejaba fluir su imaginación y aumentaba sus movimientos. —¿Quieres eso? ¿Quieres chuparme la polla, bebé?

Y tan pronto como preguntó aquello T/n pudo escuchar a la perfección como Yoongi escupía sobre su palma; usando su saliva como lubricante para poder bombearse más fuerte antes de que un gutural gruñido que dejó escapar ante la fricción la hiciera temblar y a su coño apretarse alrededor de la nada, encontrando increíblemente eróticos los sonidos húmedos que Yoongi le estaba regalando.

—Sí, sí quiero… —T/n respondió al mismo tiempo que deslizaba sus dedos por debajo de sus bragas, haciéndola soltar un gemido lascivo por lo sensible y mojada que ya estaba, sintiendo sus dedos bailar entre sus pliegues resbaladizos de a poco.  

—Oh, ¿lo quieres? Mmh, pero tengo la sensación de que no lo has hecho, ¿estoy en lo cierto? —Yoongi preguntó con arrogancia sin dejar de mover su mano y suspirando de solo pensar en enseñarle cómo darle una buena mamada.

T/n tenía muchas ganas de decir que sí lo había intentado y mentir, pero no tuvo el corazón para no hacerlo.

Frunciendo el ceño, suspiró con tristeza antes de responder.— No, todavía no.

—Está bien, bonita. ¿Quieres que te diga cómo hacerlo?

—Sí, por favor, por favor, señor… —rogó con entusiasmo volviendo a frotar sus dedos contra sus pliegues, imaginando que eran las manos de él las que estaban jugando con su coño en ese momento.

El cuerpo de Yoongi se estremeció por su tono desesperado, murmurando un "mierda" en voz baja antes de continuar.

—Eres una niña tan ansiosa, ¿verdad? Pero probablemente no puedas tomar mi gran polla dentro de tu pequeña boquita. —comenzó a hablar con su voz ronca, los movimientos sobre su pene se volvieron más firmes antes de formar una sonrisa arrogante y agregar. —Tal vez te ahogues con mi polla como una buena zorra.

Su habitación inmediatamente se sintió mucho más caliente que al principio cuando sus sucias palabras nublaron la mente de T/n, su elección de palabras lo único que estaban haciendo eran que alzara sus caderas contra su mano con pura necesidad, podía sentir el sudor cubriendo su cuerpo y se sentía sucia, pero le encantaba sentirse así con solo escuchar su voz.

La voz de Yoongi se volvió más profunda mientras seguía balbuceando palabras lascivas sin contenerse al mismo tiempo que agarraba su polla con más fuerza, atrapando el líquido preseminal que goteaba de la punta para deslizarlo por todo lo largo de su dura erección, estaba tan desordenado, y podía sentir sus testículos más y más tensos a cada segundo.

—Dime qué tan mojada estás… —gruñó con su voz ronca apretando el agarre en su miembro. —¿Qué tan mojada está mi bebé, hm?

—Estoy tan mojada señor… —T/n gimoteó de puro placer mientras pellizcaba cuidadosamente su clítoris.

—¿En realidad? No te creo. —Yoongi murmuró divertido, ralentizando sus movimientos antes de escucharla lloriquear por lo bajo.

—Lo prometo… —T/n respondió por lo bajo haciendo todo lo posible por sonar lo más convincente posible y solo escuchándolo soltar una risita oscura.

—¿Te importaría meter un dedo dentro de ese coño entonces? —pidió con ilusión en su voz y sonriendo al escuchar el silencio que se instaló ante sus palabras.

—No sé si puedo hacerlo… —T/n susurró tímidamente deteniendo sus movimientos, pero sintiéndose emocionada con la simple idea.

—Sabes que puedes, T/n. Puedo guiarte a través de esto, ¿sí? Puedo ayudarte, enseñarte cómo hacerlo. —Yoongi habló con calma, antes de que un gruñido saliera de su garganta. —Mierda, mi polla palpita solo con la idea de que te folle con mis dedos bebé, ¿Quieres eso?

—Sí…— T/n admitió en medio de un jadeo al escucharlo decirle aquello.— Quiero hacerlo…

—Buena niña. —la elogió formando una sonrisa maliciosa, podía sentir ponerse más duro de solo pensarlo. —¿Puedes meter tu dedo medio dentro de tu boca por mí bebé? Chúpalo y ponlo bien húmedo para mí.

T/n podía jurar que todo su rostro ardía de vergüenza mientras hacía lo que Yoongi le había ordenado obedientemente, estaba completamente sola, pero ¿Por qué sentía que había cientos de ojos observando cada uno de sus movimientos?

Decidió provocarlo un poco y ver que podía obtener de él, creando pequeños ruidos de succión con su lengua antes de liberar su dedo con un chasquido húmedo de saliva, estremeciéndose al escuchar la risita oscura que Yoongi dejó escapar.

—Ah, cariño. Quieres jugar así, ¿eh? —Yoongi murmuró mordiéndose el labio ante el sonido, casi imaginando que era polla lo que estabas chupando y no tu dedo. —Ahora dirígete lentamente a tu entrada, y empuja la punta de tu dedo ligeramente, ¿sí?

T/n mantuvo sus ojos fijos en el techo mientras presionaba su dedos contra su entrada, metiendo de a poco solo la punta antes de sentir un repentina rayo de dolor dispararse a través de su centro y por todo su cuerpo, haciéndola gemir y echar la cabeza hacia atrás sobre su almohada, con sus ojos cerrados con fuerza mientras sentía que sus paredes húmedas se apretaban alrededor de su dedo con fuerza.

—Eso es bebé, relaja tu cuerpo y no dolerá tanto, recuerda respirar, ¿de acuerdo? —Yoongi murmuró suavemente, privándose a sí mismo de tocarse sólo para hacer que se sintiera bien. —Quiero que empujes tu dedo suave y lentamente, se sentirá bien, lo prometo.

T/n pudo sentir como su voz inmediatamente ayudó a relajar su cuerpo mientras seguía sus instrucciones, inhalando y exhalando mientras movía su dedo de a poco dentro de ella, aún acostumbrándose a la extraña pero placentera sensación, podía sentir su humedad deslizarse entre sus muslos y a su clítoris palpitar de pura necesidad.

—Eso es, esa es mi niña… —Yoongi gruñó con su pecho subiendo y bajando en densas respiraciones mientras su propio placer abrumaba su cuerpo. —Empieza a meterlo y sacarlo a tu propio ritmo, bebé. Vamos, sé que puedes hacerlo.

Y el adorable gemido que se escuchó a través de la llamada lo hizo sonreír, T/n podía asegurar que nunca había sentido algo así antes, todo se sentía tan delicioso, podía sentir el placer burbujeando en su interior con cada débil movimiento de su dedo dentro y fuera de su coño, su interior estaba ardiendo y los sonidos húmedos no tardaron en escucharse en cada embestida que se daba a sí misma.

—Señor, se siente tan bien… —T/n gimió removiéndose sobre la cama tratando de asimilar la cantidad de placer que estaba sintiendo. —Te deseo tanto…

—¿Oh sí? —Yoongi se burló con una sonrisa pintando en su rostro, casi juró que pudo sentir su polla palpitar con su afirmación. —¿Me deseas? Oh, apuesto a que quieres mis dedos en lugar de los tuyos, ¿eh? Apuesto a que puedo hacer que te corras tan jodidamente duro, te haría hacerte gemir mi nombre hasta que tus vecinos puedan oírlo.

—S-señor, por ​​favor, por favor… —Lloriqueó con fuerza mientras movía su dedo a un ritmo más fuerte dentro de ella, sintiendo que su orgasmo aumentaba a cada segundo, casi a punto de golpearla. —Haz que me corra por favor... quiero tus dedos, quiero tanto tu polla…

—Oh mierda, mierda T/n. ¿Sí? ¿Quieres mi polla en tu pequeño coño? —Yoongi gruñó ante la simple idea, volviendo a bombearse con la misma fuerza de antes, apretando el agarre en su polla y haciendo que sus movimientos fueran más duros y bruscos en su grosor. —Pon tu teléfono en el altavoz y usa la otra mano para jugar con tu clítoris, cariño.

Ordenó y T/n obediente lo hizo, colocando su teléfono sobre su estómago y usando su otra mano para volver a frotar su sensible clítoris, gimoteando ante la sensación de placer duplicado golpeando su cuerpo de repente, todo lo que decían en las redes sociales sobre lo bien que se sentía masturbarte no era absolutamente nada comparado con lo que estaba sintiendo ahora. Era mucho, mucho mejor.

El nudo apretado comenzó a formarse en la parte inferior de su vientre más rápido de lo que esperaba, luchando por mantener las piernas abiertas mientras su mente estaba llena de lujuria. —Dios, sí lo quiero tanto, me voy a correr…

—Gime mi nombre, bebé. —Yoongi pido en un nuevo gemido gutural, su voz inestable y aireada delataron que estaba cerca de romperse también. —Quiero escuchar esa bonita boca decir mi nombre.

—¿S-Suga? —T/n jadeó sin aire y confundida, antes de escucharlo soltar una pequeña risita.

—Yoongi. Llámame Yoongi. —aclaró divertido y negando con su cabeza a pesar del calor en todo su cuerpo.

Y T/n sonrió ante eso, estuvo a punto de decir algo más pero un nuevo destello de placer recorrió su cuerpo, borrando todos sus pensamientos, su espalda se arqueó y sus piernas temblaron cuando su orgasmo se rompió dentro de ella, viajando por cada uno de sus nervios, sintiéndose tan abrumada y con el placer al rojo vivo instalándose en cada parte de su cuerpo y haciéndola jadear su nombre uno y otra vez en respiraciones agitadas y temblorosas.

—Joder, Yoongi… —gimoteó su nombre una y otra vez, volviéndose adicta a la deliciosa sensación y con su mente centrándose únicamente en el placer y nada más, y lo que la dejó fuera de combate fue escuchar aquel ronco gruñido brotar de los labios de Yoongi.

Yoongi rápidamente se apresuró a poner su teléfono en el altavoz para colocarlo en la mesita frente a él, sus dedos se pasaron por su cabello, apartando los mechones sueltos y húmedos por el sudor de su rostro mientras cerraba los ojos, llevando su mano disponible hacia abajo para apretar la piel sensible de sus testículos, gruñendo entre dientes mientras se masturbaba con más fuerza.

Te imaginó arrodillada frente a él como una buena chica, con tus manos descansando en tu espalda mientras lo mirabas dulcemente, esperando ansiosa a que te pintara la cara con su semen, marcándote como su pequeña zorra, pensando en lo jodidamente caliente que sería eso. Y fue esa misma fantasía la que lo hizo derramarse en un gruñido gutural.

—Mierda… —Yoongi gimió viendo como los chorros calientes de semen brotaban de su punta uno tras otro, cayendo sobre el piso con cada movimiento errático de su mano; haciendo un desastre mientras pensaba en ti. —Mereces un premio bebé, nadie había logrado hacer que me corriera así…

Y T/n no pudo sentirse más avergonzada después de escuchar eso, saliendo de su cama para dirigirse al baño y limpiar todo el desastre entre sus piernas. —No voy a terminar la llamada de repente como la última vez. —advirtió por lo bajo y sonrió al escucharlo reír.

—Esto no es tan malo, ¿verdad? —Yoongi habló en medio de un denso suspiro mientras se desplomaba sobre el sofá.

—Sí, es malo.

—¿Por qué? ¿Te hice sentir incómoda? —las cejas de Yoongi se fruncieron con duda, no queriendo que por algo que haya dicho volviera a pasar lo mismo de la noche anterior.

—No, no para nada, déjame terminar… —T/n respondió de inmediato al escucharlo antes de reír nerviosamente por lo que estaba a punto de decir.— Es ... es sólo que creo que necesito más de ti…

No hubo respuesta, así que continúo.

—Yo-yo realmente quiero verte, ¿sabes? Tal vez... eh, ¿continuar esto en la vida real? —preguntó mordiéndose el labio nerviosa, no sabía qué esperar, no sabía si Yoongi quería verla también o tan siquiera saber de ella, pero ya lo había dicho.

El pecho de Yoongi se oprimió con tanta fuerza que el corazón casi se le cayó al suelo, suspiró en silencio mientras bajaba la cabeza. La forma en que tu voz sonaba tan ansiosa y ferviente solo hacía todo más difícil para él.

Desde que entró a trabajar a Delight, había una única regla que todos tenían por igual: ningún operador debía tener una relación privada con un cliente. Estaba estrictamente prohibido. A los trabajadores se les enseñaba a manejar los sentimientos, recordándoles a sí mismos que solo estaban ahí para satisfacer; para alimentar las fantasías y los deseos de cada cliente. Ese era el único objetivo.

¿Pero cómo podía decírtelo? ¿Cómo podía decirte que era absolutamente imposible algo entre ustedes dos? Yoongi no era tonto, a pesar de todo, él sentía algo por ti, desde la vez que tan inocentemente llamaste a su número sin saber que era una línea directa de sexo, y había odiado la forma en que su pecho se retorció con inquietud cuando terminaste la llamada.

Estaba atónito, tan desconcertado con todo lo que tenía que ver contigo, y no podía evitar pensar demasiado.

Él también te deseaba, demasiado.

Pero no se arriesgaría a perder su trabajo.

—Yo… —murmuró apenas encontrando su voz y aclarándose la garganta. —Lo pensaré, T/n.

—Yoongi, espera…

*llamada terminada*

N/A: Por finn uno de los oneshots que tanto me pedían está de regreso! Lo sé les debo una disculpa porque este oneshot es también mi favorito y ya quería volver a publicarlo, so espero que les haya gustado igual que la primera vez y que hayan disfrutado de este pequeño maratón, prometo estar mas seguido por aquí pupis  Gracias infinitas por todos sus comentarios y paciencia, las amo mucho  ♡ prev

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