you and me, always, forever - myg
pairing: boyfriend yoongi x female reader (established relationship)
genre: smut, so much fluff
word count: 1.5k (single part)
mdni!
summary: sometimes sadness consumes you, the grief is always there, always waiting to pounce, but you also always have yoongi to fuck it away.
warnings: mentions of grief + loss, yoongi is soft, slight dom yoongi, reader is grieving, missionary, he ignores her boobs, mentions of hand on neck and spanking but its only mentions, kisses, a tiny bit of oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, cockwarming.
authors note: everyone deals with grief and loss differently, if this is triggering for anyone, my dms are open, i know what it's like to lose someone close and i am always here to listen.
Sobs consume your body, every muscle, every fiber, every feeling brings you immense pain. It consumed you, this pain, this loss, and you were alone in feeling it. Yoongi had gone out shopping, and nearly three months after it had happened you were sure you would be perfectly fine being alone for a while. Grief was easier with people around you, they distracted you from the larger scheme of pain, forced you to think of other things, but when you were alone, you had time to think, and that didn’t seem to be good for anyone. You’re curled up on the sofa, scrolling through old pictures on your phone, still sobbing, when Yoongi comes in the door. You instantly sit up, throwing your phone behind you and quickly wiping the tears from your face, as if you could hide this from him.
The thing was, you were so fed up with being a burden on him, you’d been with him for nearly two years, but this was by far the hardest thing you had ever been though, you were scared of depressing him too, and losing him as well.
“Y/N” he says, dropping the shopping and coming over to you, running a hand over your cheek, wiping away the tears you didn’t manage to. “It’s okay, i’m back.”
You pushed your face into his hand harder, you craved his touch, his comforting silence that kept you at bay from your thoughts. “I’m sorry Yoongi” you tell him, eyes wide and bloodshot looking up at him sadly.
“You don’t need to apologise, my love” he frowns, he holds your hand, pulling you from the couch and into his arms, he sways the two of you back and forth for a moment, running one hand through your hair, the other gripped tight around your waist. He steadies your breathing. He grounds you to him. Yoongi wasn’t good with words, this you knew, it was something you had learnt about him more recently. Why he was like this, you weren’t sure, he could write the most breathtaking raps full of emotion and vulnerability, yet he couldn’t find the words to comfort you. It had upset him to begin with, he had wanted to speak all these wise words to you, but nothing he said seemed good enough. You’d told him months ago,
“Yoongi, I don’t need you to be a philosopher, I need you to hold me.”
And that was what he had done since then. A few words “it's okay”, “i love you” and “i’m here.” That's all you needed, all you wanted. The feeling of his hands on you, his lips, his cock. That was all you needed. Then, once you had calmed down again and the world returned to its normal axis, the two of you would talk about your normal things, music, friends, work. No one would struggle, everything would be okay.
Your connection to Yoongi scared you, your reliance upon him when you were like this, you were scared of him leaving you. But he stayed, he will stay, the promise ring on your finger swore that, and you trusted him, more than anyone in this world. “Yoongi” you sigh, the tears now back behind their little mental wall, though the sadness still has you in a grip.
“Mmmh” he hums.
“Make it go away” you say softly, “please.”
He doesn’t reply, just walks the two of you across your flat toward your bedroom. You’re surprised he hasn’t picked you up, thrown you over his shoulder like he normally did when you asked him to do this for you. Normally it was fast and hard, with his hand around your neck or a hand spanking your ass, and it normally started with him man-handling you. Why? Because the fear and pain of sex made the fear and pain of grief go away, but today, he gently placed you onto the bed, kissing your neck and your bare arms as he did. Yoongi pulls your little silk pajama top over your head, leaving your boobs on display to him, but he doesn’t touch them, hardly looks at them as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties and pulls them down over your knees, chucking them behind him without a care as to where they landed. He presses soft kisses to the inside of your thighs, painfully far away from your center. “So beautiful,” he says, looking at you, and you blush, because any compliment he ever gave had this effect on you, sometimes it was like the two of you were in your first weeks of dating again. He watches you blush, knowing that his words had that effect on you. Then, without much of a warning, he licks one stripe up your core, pretty much from your asshole to your clit. Whining, you urge him to do it again, but he seems to still be doing things in his own time, he’s still the one in control here.
“Wait, Y/N.” he frowns, still between his legs. “It will feel better if you wait.”
Before you can complain, he does the same action again, licking up your entrance and over your clit. Trying to urge him on, you thread your hands through his hair and try to push him onto you. He pulls away quickly, still stronger than you, and huffs, probably annoyed.
“Y/N, let me make love to you please” he complains, threading one of his hands through yours.
“But-” you begin, though he cuts you off.
“Don’t be afraid to feel emotions Y/N.” he tells you, rubbing his thumb over your hand. “I just wanna be close to you. Want you to feel me everywhere.”
He’s kissing on your neck again, he feels so close, so much closer than he normally does. It's enough for you to agree. “Please, Yoongi, make love to me”
To the outside world, this may have sounded a little cringy, but to you and Yoongi, in this moment, you were each other's worlds, and what happened outside didn’t matter. You let him kiss you slowly, kiss you everywhere whilst you let out little moans and whines for more, though you know you wont get it. There may be tears in your eyes, but he kisses them away. And as he strips down to his shirt, and pulls off his jeans, all you can do is tell him how much you love him. How much you need him. How thankful you are that you have him.
He quickly silences you when he enters you, slow and sweet and you can feel every gorgeous inch and vein of his glorious cock. He groans and so do you. It was wonderful, you hadn't felt Yoongi like this in so long. Gripping onto his biceps, so hard you were bound to leave marks with your nails, you anchor yourself to him as hips press against your stomach. “I love you” you say, your voice soft, raw from the pleasure.
“I love you” he tells you back, his cock still pressed into the deepest area of your core. He's so close to your cervix in this position, he fits you so well. You want to tell him this, but he’s slowly pulling out, his cock dragging your walls, you feel him in every part of your body, and it leaves you speechless. Gosh, you loved him. You loved this.
You thread a hand through his hair, he’d been growing it out long recently and it suited him so well. You play with his hair as he pushes into you, still slow and deep, his lips brushing yours on every thrust of his smooth hips. His name falls from your mouth like a constant prayer. “Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi” at every thrust, because he's your everything. Consumed by him, filled by his cock and his soft touches, you’re nearing your orgasm, and it's obvious in the way your pussy flutters around him.
“I love you” he tells you, and you don’t know if this is permission to cum, because that's what he normally gives you, but with your heart full of his love, and your brain void of all thoughts but him, you orgasm. Spasming around his cock, which is what makes him cum, ropes of white warming you from the inside, mixing with your wetness as Yoongi continues softly moving though your orgasms.
Instead of collapsing on top of you, and suffocating you with his body, he flips the two of you around, still inside of you, going soft. You’re against his chest, tracing the outline of a heart over his heart, so glad that it keeps him alive, so grateful he's alive. That he’s here with you. With him, you’ll never be alone. As he goes soft, his cock plugs in all the cum he's spent inside of you, and you look up at him wide eyed, one day, the two of you would put that cum to use, you’d get married, have kids, grow old, hold hands. He offered you all of that, he offered you hope.
You fall asleep thinking of him as he runs a hand through your hair, his cock still inside of you. Distantly, you think you hear him say "you and me, always, forever" but you're not sure, and you're asleep before you can think any more of it.
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