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hamsterclaw · 2 years ago

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Hahahhahahahahaa thanks, lovely, yeah irl this Yoongi would be cruisin for a bruisin but in ff it’s fine, they can work it out.

Everything

Yoongi and you are at a wedding, and it seems like he's spending time with everyone but you. Set after the events of Vows - read the rest here.

Pairing: Yoongi x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut, angst, arranged marriage AU

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Sex, as always, Kim Seokjin in a suit

Yoongi enters the kitchen and you freeze in front of the open fridge where you’ve been munching yesterday’s leftover noodles.

He looks every inch the chaebol he is, in his bespoke tuxedo, his perfectly aligned bow tie, his hair styled back. He even has makeup on, just enough to make him look airbrushed.

Your husband looks like he’s stepped out the pages of a magazine, and you —-

Well, you had been feeling pretty good before you decided you needed to eat something before the wedding you’re both going to.

You lift the box and offer it to Yoongi. ‘Noodles?’

He’s looking at you with a bemused expression on his face.

You take that as a ‘no’.

***

You fidget in the passenger seat of Yoongi’s vintage sportscar and examine your reflection in the mirror.

The lipstick you’d reapplied hastily before you left the house looks perfect. You’re checking your teeth when you catch Yoongi staring at you.

‘Just checking there’s no lipstick on my teeth,’ you explain.

His brow rises slightly, but he says nothing.

‘You look very handsome,’ you offer.

‘I know how I look,’ Yoongi says. He sounds disinterested.

‘Like my dress?’ you ask, smoothing out a wrinkle in the silk.

‘It’s pretty,’ Yoongi replies.

You try not to feel hurt that he hasn’t complimented you specifically.

You look out the window.

‘My family are all going to be at this wedding,’ Yoongi says.

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

He glances at you like he’s not quite convinced.

He stops the car, gets out to open your door for you. The flash of cameras, which you weren’t expecting, makes you startle, and Yoongi’s hand tightens on your arm.

‘You ok?’ he murmurs. You look up at him, still unused to him being concerned about you even though your relationship’s much more affectionate now.

‘I’m ok, Yoongi,’ you reply.

Maybe he wasn’t that concerned, because as soon as you step into the hotel he’s approached by his grandfather.

He greets you both and leads Yoongi away. Yoongi glances back at you once, and you’re still standing, watching them go.

You remember what he said about his whole family being at the wedding and put your game face on.

Your husband’s chaebol, but so are you. You straighten your shoulders, raise your head and nearly fall over as someone bumps into you from behind.

‘Ah sorry, I didn’t see you —-‘

You’re apologising too when you realise who it is.

Min Yoonseok.

He realises at the same time as you, and the smile that he gives you is sexy, devastatingly handsome.

Objectively, he’s as beautiful as all the Min family are, but he isn’t a patch on your husband.

You’re smiling back when he says, voice low but missing the gravelliness of your husband’s, ‘you look very beautiful.’

They’re the words you’ve wanted to hear all night, but it’s the wrong man saying them.

Yoongi would melt your heart and reduce you to blushing and stammering if he said that to you, but to Yoonseok, you smile and murmur your thanks.

‘You look handsome,’ you say, ‘that colour’s great on you.’

He holds out his arm for you to take as he leads you further into the ballroom.

You catch a disapproving look from one of Yoongi’s uncles, and you understand why. In the early days of your marriage to Yoongi, you’d chosen to flirt shamelessly with Yoonseok as a way of aggravating Yoongi.

Yoonseok had been more than happy to flirt back, and Yoongi had never let on that it bothered him. Until you’d decided to make amends and Yoongi had wrestled Yoonseok over an ultimate frisbee game.

The memory of your husband, sweaty and panting, expression thunderous as he’d grabbed Yoonseok in a headlock, is still one of the sexiest things you’ve ever seen.

Yoonseok’s staring at you curiously, and you make a valiant effort to temper the dreaminess of your smile.

Finally he laughs. ‘Where’s Yoongi? I can’t leave you alone, you’re way too pretty to be left unattended at a wedding like this.’

You’re indignant. ‘I can handle myself.’

‘You look like you can,’ comes a silvery voice beside you.

You turn to a faintly familiar, very pretty face.

The man who’s spoken holds out a hand. ‘Park Jimin.’

‘Min Y/N,’ you reply, shaking his hand.

‘I can escort you to your husband,’ Park Jimin says, leading you away from Yoonseok so smoothly you’re halfway across the ballroom before you realise it.

‘How do you know my husband?’ you ask, politely.

‘The man who outbid me to buy you at the charity auction?’ Park Jimin offers, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You can’t help your smile as you remember the moment Yoongi told you in bed after the auction that he had never had any intention of letting you be ‘bought’ by anyone else.

‘Everyone knows Min Yoongi,’ Jimin says. ‘Also we went to school together. And I have no idea where he is, apart from that it was foolish of him to leave you unattended tonight.’

You meet his gaze, teasing. ‘Park Jimin, are you kidnapping me?’

‘I would if you’d let me,’ Jimin admits, grinning at you so charmingly you laugh.

‘He’s got family business to attend to,’ you say, loyally.

‘He’s also staring daggers at me, behind you,’ Jimin tells you, leaning close.

You turn so quickly Jimin laughs.

You spot your husband across the room, and automatically change course to head for him.

You’re a few metres away when he’s approached by a beautiful woman in jade green whom you don’t know. You watch as he smiles at her in greeting, leans down to kiss her cheek.

You realise you’ve come to a complete stop.

Yoongi turns your way, and you rearrange your facial expression so quickly you’re not sure you fool him.

Kim Seokjin arrives at your elbow with a glass of champagne.

‘I did say he’s an idiot sometimes,’ he says, coiffed and perfectly groomed as always in his white tux.

‘He’s my idiot,’ you say, accepting the glass and taking a gulp.

Seokjin takes your arm. ‘Come on, let’s feed you.’

‘But Yoongi—-‘ you protest.

‘You have the whole night to stare at him longingly,’ Seokjin replies, firmly.

He grins. ‘Come stare at me for a bit.’

As Seokjin leads you to a quiet table in an alcove, seemingly set up just for him, he says, ‘you look very beautiful.’

You sigh. ‘Do you think Yoongi thinks so?’

Seokjin looks at you thoughtfully. ‘Didn’t he say so?’

You’re not going to be butthurt about the fact every man you’ve spoken to tonight, apart from your beautiful husband, has complimented you.

‘You’re right, he was probably too stunned to even say anything,’ you say, summoning your haughtiest tone, squaring your shoulders.

Seokjin shrugs. ‘Did you know your mouth turns down when you’re lying?’

‘Maybe if you’d realised that sooner I wouldn’t have been able to fool you all those times,’ you tell him sweetly.

Seokjin laughs and nods to a waiter, who advances with a plate of food.

‘Eat, Mrs Min.’

Seokjin is a delightful distraction during your meal, solicitous in offering you morsels from his own plate, refilling your glass generously.

You’ve excused yourself to get some air when you realise you’re not alone on the balcony.

Kim Namjoon straightens up from where he’s been leaning over the railing.

‘Y/N,’ he says, polite as always.

‘Namjoon,’ you return, warmly. ‘Is Nayeon here too?’

‘She had to work,’ he tells you. He tilts his head. ‘You look pretty. That colour suits you.’

You’re grateful for the darkness to hide the expression on your face.

When Namjoon goes inside, you stay, shivering a little at the crispness of the night air.

‘Are you enjoying yourself?’

You close your eyes at the sound of your husband’s voice.

‘Yoongi,’ you say.

It doesn’t matter to you that he hasn’t complimented you. You don’t care now. You’re just happy that he’s finally spending time with you.

Yoongi’s arranging his jacket over your shoulders with care.

‘I saw you eating with Seokjin,’ he says.

‘He wanted me to admire him,’ you say dryly.

‘I’m glad you ate,’ Yoongi says. He leans against the railing next to you.

‘Yoongi,’ you say, touching his arm. ‘Can we go home?’

He looks at you, face half-shadowed, the straight line of his lips the only thing visible in the moonlight.

You wish you could read him better.

He offers you his dress shirt-clad arm. ‘Yes, brat, we can go home.’

***

You’re sitting in Yoongi’s huge bathroom in your finery, watching as he cleanses his skin.

He turns to you. ‘Are you watching me for skincare pointers? Because your skin is better than mine.’

You sigh. At this point, you don’t know what you want, torn between wanting a hug and wanting your husband to call you pretty and fuck you senseless.

Yoongi’s already turned back to finish washing his face. His silver rings gleam in the light as he moves his hands.

You sigh again, and Yoongi raises a brow at you in the mirror.

You search his face for a sign of any emotion, but he’s expressionless.

‘I’m going to get my pyjamas,’ you tell him.

Back in your rooms, you get undressed and take your makeup off despondently.

You’re heading back to what you still think of as Yoongi’s room, even though you sleep together every night these days, when you glimpse the stuffed kitten Yoongi once won you at a funfair.

You clutch it to your chest and get into your bed instead.

***

You wake to total darkness and Yoongi’s arm around you.

His voice is raspy, low.

‘Don’t you want me tonight, jagiya?’ he asks.

You want to turn to face him, but he holds you tight against his chest. His hand strokes a path over your bare skin, and your senses light up under his touch.

‘You spend your night talking to every man but me, and then I find you in your own bed cuddling this damn cat when you should be with me,’ he says, disgruntled.

You’re about to answer when he says, ‘Yoonseok, fucking Park Jimin, Seokjin, Jeonghyeok, Sehun, Namjoon.’

He’s listed all the men you’ve spoken to tonight.

You hadn’t realised he’d been that aware of you.

You’re trying to process what that means when he groans. ‘Let go of that cat so I can hold you.’

You’re so confused all you can think of to say is, ‘You won me this cat.’

Yoongi nudges you flat onto your back and gets on top of you.

He lowers his lips to yours and kisses you gently.

‘I’ll win you anything you like,’ he says as he pulls back. ‘Buy you the whole damn funfair if you want.’

You’re distracted by the weight of him, the press of his length between your legs.

You shift your hips so he’s fully on top of you.

‘And popcorn too?’ you ask.

Yoongi laughs.

‘Everything,’ he promises.

Yoongi lowers his lips to yours again, and his kisses are languid, patient, a slow burn from your insides that steals your breath.

He pauses with a hand under your (his) t-shirt, palm warm over your bare breast.

‘Your tits look so good in my shirts,’ he murmurs.

You’re trying to think of a snappy remark but he grinds his erection between your legs, the press of him against the thin cotton of your panties deliciously hard, and you moan instead.

Yoongi doesn’t seem to be waiting for an answer, thankfully.

He makes quick work of your panties and his boxer briefs, halting with his cock poised hard and heavy at your centre.

You tilt your hips so that he presses against your clit.

Yoongi sounds amused. ‘Stop, brat, I want to talk to you.’

‘Now?’ you burst out, so horny you can’t stop writhing against him.

‘Now,’ Yoongi says, firmly. His hand squeezes your hip.

‘Where did you get that dress?’

‘Uh?’

Yoongi circles his hips, cock nudging against your cunt so tantalisingly you sob with frustration.

‘Nara designed it, it’s her latest collection,’ you tell him.

‘Get ten more just like it,’ Yoongi says.

He enters you in a smooth thrust, and you’re still moaning your pleasure when he pulls out completely, leaving you bereft.

‘You’re so fucking pretty in it I want to rip it off you the next time you wear it, ok?’

You’re still processing his sentence, hazy with pleasure, when he enters you again.

‘Yoongi!’

‘Answer me,’ he says, sternly. ‘Or I’ll pull out.’

You stare at him, but have the presence of mind to say, ‘yes Yoongi, please.’

He laughs again, your fucking husband. ‘You have such good manners in bed, why are you such a brat outside of it?’

You don’t think you’ve been a brat tonight.

Yoongi senses your change of mood. He kisses you again, gentler this time.

‘My baby,’ he murmurs, lips by your ear.

Yoongi starts to move, finally, and you cry out with pleasure as his hard length fills you, sliding into you the way he’s learnt you love.

He lifts your legs to his shoulders, and you gasp as the change in angle lets you take him deeper.

You think he says something as he spills inside you, but you’re already floating on a high, anchored by the weight of him on top of you and the love you feel for him.

Afterward, you’re half asleep, curled in Yoongi’s arms, pressed against his chest, when he says, very quietly, ‘be patient with me, jagiya.’

You look up at him. His gaze is steady.

‘I’m not used to being a jealous man,’ he tells you.

His words send warmth through your chest.

You do your best to keep your face straight as you reply haughtily, ‘better get used to it.’

He laughs and pulls you closer.

‘Go to sleep.’

‘Good night Yoongi,’ you murmur, pressing a kiss into his chest.

‘Good night.’

#in bed #vows au

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