#suga

[jung-koook]

DOUBLE ATTACK 😩 (cr. @taee)

[yoongikook]

my cuteness aggression has reached max levels

[seokbite]

PROCEED WITH CARE ﹒❀ m.yg

─── HANDLE ME WITH CARE ꕤ⠀ՙ When Yoongi stays quiet every time you’re together, never letting a sound or reaction slip, doubt slowly takes root in your mind, leaving you wondering if he even enjoys being with you at all. The insecurity builds until, the next time, you force yourself into something more performative, but Yoongi notices immediately, and what starts as confusion turns into an honest conversation neither of you expected. ✶﹑

🥣 min yoongi x f ! reader ﹐☆ established relationship  ﹐ꕀ miscommunication trope slight angst slight arguing faking an orgasm smut rough sex missionary hickeys grinding hair pulling riding doggystyle ➜﹒minors do not interact

▹ word count ✶﹐11.6k

The room is dim, lit only by the thin sliver of moonlight cutting through the half-drawn curtains. The air feels thick, heavy with the scent of sex and Yoongi’s cologne, something woodsy and cool that always clings to his skin. Your back is pressed into the mattress, sheets already twisted beneath you from how long he’s been moving above you.

Yoongi is buried deep inside you, hips rolling in that slow, deliberate rhythm he always uses when he wants to take his time. Every thrust is precise, angled just right to brush against that spot that usually makes your toes curl and your breath hitch. His hands grip your hips firmly, fingers digging into your skin with just enough pressure to ground you, but never enough to bruise. He knows your body so well— better than anyone ever has.

It feels good. Of course it feels good. It always does with him.

His cock stretches you perfectly, sliding in and out with a wet, obscene sound that fills the quiet bedroom. Each time he pushes forward, the head drags along your walls, sending sparks of pleasure radiating through your core. You can feel the slight tremor in his thighs where they press against the backs of yours, the way his abs tighten against your stomach with every controlled roll of his hips. He’s sweating lightly, a faint sheen glistening on his collarbones and the sharp line of his jaw, but his face… his face stays almost serene.

That’s the part that’s been haunting you lately.

Yoongi is quiet.

Painfully, unnervingly quiet.

While you’re trying to lose yourself in the feeling of him— his thickness, the way he fills you so completely, the heat of his body pressed to yours, you keep getting pulled out of it by the silence. There are no desperate moans spilling from his lips, no broken curses, no rough growls of your name. Just the occasional low grunt when he sinks in particularly deep, or a barely-there groan that vibrates through his chest when his pace picks up for a few strokes. Even his breathing stays measured, controlled, like he’s meditating instead of fucking you senseless.

You bite your lip as another slow thrust drags a real spark of pleasure from you. For a moment, you let your eyes flutter shut and try to focus only on the sensation: the drag, the fullness, the way his pubic bone grinds lightly against your clit with every forward motion. It’s good. So good. Your walls flutter around him involuntarily, and you feel yourself getting wetter, slick sounds growing louder between your bodies.

But then your mind drifts again.

Why doesn’t he make noise? Does it not feel as intense for him as it does for you? Is he holding back because he’s not actually enjoying it that much? Or worse… is he bored?

The thoughts creep in like smoke, curling around the edges of your pleasure and slowly choking it out. Your orgasm, which had been steadily building, starts to slip away. The heat in your belly dulls, turning from a roaring fire into something distant and lukewarm. You clench around him on purpose, trying to chase the feeling back, but it’s already fading.

Yoongi doesn’t falter. His rhythm stays steady, deep, unhurried strokes that should be driving you crazy. One of his hands slides up your side, palm rough and warm as it cups your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple in slow circles. It sends a shiver through you, but it’s not enough to pull you fully back into your body. Your mind is louder than the pleasure now.

You don’t want him to know.

You don’t want him to stop or pull away or ask what’s wrong. So you do the only thing you can think of in the moment.

You start faking it.

A soft, breathy moan slips past your lips— higher and more theatrical than the ones that usually come naturally. You tilt your head back into the pillow, letting your mouth fall open as you force another moan out, longer this time, letting it tremble at the end like you’re right on the edge. Your hands slide up his back, nails digging in just a little harder than before, and you rock your hips up to meet his thrusts with more exaggerated movements, making sure your body moves like you’re lost in it.

“Oh… fuck, Yoongi,” you whimper, voice pitched just a touch too sweet, too performative. You clench around him again, purposefully this time, and add a little gasp at the end for good measure. “Feels so good…”

Your heart is pounding for an entirely different reason now. The lie tastes bitter on your tongue, but you keep going, layering on more moans and whines, letting your breathing come faster and more ragged than it actually is. You arch your back dramatically, pushing your chest up toward him, and let your eyes squeeze shut as if you’re overwhelmed with pleasure.

Inside, the real pleasure has almost completely slipped away, replaced by a tight knot of anxiety in your stomach. But you keep the act going, hips rolling, moans spilling out one after another, all while Yoongi continues to fuck you in that same devastatingly silent, controlled way.

His skin is hot against yours. His cock still feels perfect inside you. But your mind won’t shut up, and now your body is performing instead of feeling.

You just hope he doesn’t notice. You keep the act going, layering moan after moan as Yoongi’s pace stays steady and deep. Your voice sounds foreign to your own ears— too breathy, too eager, too loud in the quiet room. You tighten around him deliberately with every thrust, rolling your hips up to meet him with exaggerated movements, letting your nails rake down his back a little harder than usual.

“Yoongi… oh god, right there,” you gasp, forcing the words out like they’re being torn from you. Your back arches off the bed in a dramatic curve, breasts pressing against his chest as you whimper and whine, building the performance higher and higher. The real pleasure has long since faded into the background, drowned out by the loud buzzing of insecurity in your head, but you push through, faking the climb with everything you have.

Inside, your stomach twists. You hate this. You hate lying to him like this, but the fear of him realizing how disconnected you feel is worse.

You feel his rhythm falter just slightly— only for a fraction of a second, before he drives in deeper, hips snapping forward one last time. A low, guttural grunt escapes his throat, the sound vibrating against your neck as he buries himself to the hilt. His cock pulses inside you, hot and thick, spilling deep as he cums with that single, restrained sound. His body tenses above you, muscles locking up, fingers digging harder into your hips for a moment before he slowly relaxes.

You fake your own release right after him, letting out a long, trembling moan that peaks sharply and then dissolves into shaky little whimpers. Your walls clench around him rhythmically, body shuddering beneath him as if you’re riding out wave after wave. You even let your thighs tremble and your breath hitch dramatically, clutching at his shoulders like you can’t handle how good it feels.

When it’s over, Yoongi stays buried inside you for a few long seconds, breathing steady against your skin. Then he slowly pulls out, the wet slide of his cock leaving you feeling empty and strangely hollow. He presses a soft, almost absent kiss to your collarbone before rolling off you and sitting up on the edge of the bed.

The room feels colder without his weight pressing you down. You stay exactly where you are, flat on your back, staring up at the ceiling. The fan above spins lazily, casting faint shifting shadows across the white paint. Your chest rises and falls with breaths that are still too fast, but not from pleasure anymore. Cum slowly leaks out of you, warm and sticky against your inner thighs, a reminder of what just happened. Your body feels used in the best physical way and yet emotionally distant, like you watched the whole thing from somewhere outside yourself.

Yoongi stands, the mattress dipping and then rising as his weight leaves. You hear the rustle of fabric as he picks up his discarded boxers and sweatpants from the floor, the soft sound of him stepping into them. He doesn’t say anything. He never really does after sex. The silence that felt intimate before now feels like a weight pressing on your chest.

He pads out of the bedroom barefoot, footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor, heading toward the kitchen. You remain motionless, eyes fixed on that spinning fan, the aftershocks of your faked orgasm leaving a sour taste in your mouth. The sheets beneath you are damp with sweat and slick, clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Your heart is still racing, but it’s anxiety now, not desire.

A few minutes later, you hear the faint clink of a glass and the sound of the faucet running. Yoongi returns, the soft glow from the hallway light outlining his silhouette as he steps back into the room. He’s shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his narrow hips, black hair slightly messy from your fingers earlier. In his hand is a glass of water, condensation already beading on the outside.

He sits on the edge of the bed beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. The glass is cool as he gently presses it into your hand. “Here,” he murmurs, voice low and a little rough from disuse. His dark eyes search your face in the dim light. “Drink.”

You push yourself up onto your elbows, taking the glass with fingers that feel slightly shaky. The water is cold and refreshing as it slides down your throat, but it does nothing to ease the knot in your stomach. Yoongi watches you quietly, one hand resting on your bare thigh, thumb brushing absentmindedly over your skin.

When you lower the glass, he asks, voice tentative and softer than usual, “You okay?”

You force a small smile, nodding quickly. “Yeah… of course. It felt really good. You always fuck me so good, Yoongi.”

The lie slips out easily enough, but your voice sounds a little too bright, a little too rehearsed. For a split second, you swear something flickers across his face— those sharp eyes narrowing just a fraction, lips parting like he might say more. Your heart stutters. He knows. He has to know.

But he doesn’t push.

Instead, Yoongi lets out a slow, quiet sigh, running his fingers through his damp black hair, pushing it back from his forehead. The motion makes the muscles in his arm flex subtly in the low light. He nods once, almost to himself, then swings his legs onto the bed and lies down beside you.

“Come here,” he says gently, reaching for you. You let him pull you against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, one of his arms wrapping securely around your waist. His skin is still warm, heart beating steady and slow beneath your cheek. He smells like sex and sweat and that familiar cologne, and for a moment the closeness makes the ache in your chest ease just a little.

“I love you,” he whispers into the darkness, lips brushing the top of your head.

Your throat tightens. “I love you too.”

He reaches over with his free hand and clicks off the bedside lamp. The room plunges into complete darkness, broken only by the faint moonlight seeping through the curtains. Yoongi’s breathing gradually slows, becoming deep and even as sleep claims him. His body relaxes completely against yours, arm heavy and comforting around you.

But sleep doesn’t come for you.

You lie there wide awake, eyes open in the dark, listening to the quiet rhythm of his breaths. The fan continues its lazy spin overhead. Every time you close your eyes, you replay the scene: your fake moans, the way you performed for him, the single low grunt he gave when he came. The insecurity gnaws at you, sharper now in the silence. You feel raw and exposed, even though he’s holding you so tenderly.

Hours seem to pass. The glass of water sits forgotten on the nightstand, condensation pooling beneath it. Your mind races in circles— wondering if he really bought the lie, if he’s truly satisfied, if something is wrong with the way you make him feel. Yoongi sleeps soundly beside you, completely unaware, while you stare at the ceiling again, the weight of your doubts pressing heavier with every passing minute.

The next afternoon, sunlight filters through the large café windows, casting warm golden patches across the wooden table. The scent of fresh coffee and sweet pastries hangs in the air, mingling with the low hum of conversations and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. You’re seated across from Wonyoung in a cozy corner booth, both of you cradling warm lattes in your hands. She looks effortlessly pretty as always, long hair cascading over one shoulder, a soft pink sweater making her glow in the natural light.

You’ve been stirring your drink absentmindedly for the past ten minutes, the spoon clinking softly against the ceramic mug. The conversation started light, but you finally let it spill, the thing that’s been weighing on your chest since last night.

“So… things with Yoongi have been good, really good,” you say, voice quieter than usual. “But… during sex… he’s just so quiet. Like, almost completely silent. I mean, he’ll give a little grunt here and there, or this low groan when he pushes in deeper, and that’s basically it. Even when he cums, it’s just one low sound. Nothing more.”

You take a small sip of your latte, the warmth doing little to ease the knot in your stomach. “It feels amazing physically, he always makes sure I cum, he knows exactly what he’s doing. But I keep getting stuck in my head about it. Last night… I actually started faking it. The moans, the way I moved, everything. I felt so stupid afterward, lying there while he held me and told me he loved me. I couldn’t even sleep.”

Wonyoung’s eyes widen slightly, her perfectly shaped brows furrowing in concern. She sets her mug down and leans forward, elbows resting on the table. “Oh, honey… that sounds really tough. Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You shake your head quickly, fingers tightening around the handle of your mug. “No… I’m scared. What if I don’t like his answer? What if he tells me he doesn’t find me sexy anymore, or that the spark is gone for him? What if he’s just going through the motions because he feels obligated? I don’t think I could handle hearing that.”

Your voice cracks a little on the last part, and you look down at the foam art slowly dissolving in your coffee. The café suddenly feels too bright, too exposed. You can still feel the ghost of Yoongi’s quiet body against yours from last night, the way he fell asleep so easily while you stared at the ceiling for hours.

Wonyoung reaches across the table and gently squeezes your hand. “I get it. That fear is valid. But bottling it up is only going to make it worse. You two are so good together, communication is important, especially about something this intimate. Maybe there’s a reason he’s quiet. Or maybe he doesn’t even realize how much it’s affecting you.”

You nod slowly, chewing on your bottom lip. “Yeah… maybe. It’s just… Yoongi always been this quiet, from the very beginning. I didn’t really think much of it at first because everything else felt so intense. But then you told me about you and your boyfriend, how vocal he gets, the way he moans your name, how he tells you how good you feel… I don’t know, it made me realize how different it is with Yoongi. I started craving that too. I want to hear him. I want to know I’m making him feel as crazy as he makes me feel.”

Wonyoung gives you a soft, understanding smile, tilting her head slightly. “I remember telling you those stories. And yeah, my boyfriend is loud in bed— it’s hot, it makes me feel desired. But Yoongi… he’s always been a quiet guy overall, right? In everyday life too. He speaks when he has something important to say, but he’s not the type to fill the silence just to fill it. Maybe during sex he’s the same, maybe he just processes pleasure differently. Still… you should talk to him. Even if it’s scary. Tell him how it makes you feel without accusing him. Something like, ‘I love being with you, but I’ve been feeling a little insecure because you’re so quiet, and I want to know if you’re enjoying it as much as I am.’”

You let out a long sigh, shoulders slumping as you trace the rim of your mug with your fingertip. “You’re right… I know you’re right. It’s just terrifying. What if talking about it makes things awkward? Or worse, what if he confirms my fears?”

She squeezes your hand again, her touch warm and reassuring. “And what if he doesn’t? What if he opens up and you both end up even closer because of it? You won’t know until you try. You deserve to feel confident and wanted in every way.”

You manage a small, grateful smile, even though your chest still feels tight with uncertainty. “Thank you for listening. I really needed this.”

The two of you finish your coffees slowly, the conversation drifting to lighter topics— work, a new drama you both started watching, Wonyoung’s latest shopping haul. But your mind keeps circling back to Yoongi, to the quiet of last night, to the conversation you know you probably need to have.

When it’s time to leave, you both stand and gather your things. Outside the café, the spring air is mild and fresh, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers from the nearby park. You pull Wonyoung into a tight hug, breathing in her familiar perfume.

“Thank you again,” you murmur against her shoulder. “For the advice… and for not making me feel crazy.”

She hugs you back just as tightly, rubbing your back gently. “Anytime. Text me later if you need more pep talks, okay? You’ve got this. Just be honest with him.”

You nod as you pull away, offering her one last smile before turning to head home. The walk back feels longer than usual, your steps slow on the sidewalk as the weight of her words settles over you. The sun is warm on your skin, but inside you’re still torn— part of you wanting to listen to her encouragement, the other part terrified of what Yoongi’s answer might be. By the time you reach your apartment door, your heart is already beating a little faster at the thought of seeing him again tonight.

-

That evening, you chicken out completely.

The conversation with Wonyoung plays on repeat in your head the whole walk home, but the moment you step through the apartment door and see Yoongi already there— barefoot in the kitchen, stirring something that smells like garlic and soy sauce, the words die in your throat. He glances up at you with that soft, small smile he reserves mostly for you, black hair falling slightly into his eyes, and your resolve crumbles. Not tonight. You’ll talk to him tomorrow. Or the day after. Just… not right now.

Instead, you both settle into a quiet movie night.

The living room is dimly lit by the glow of the TV screen and a single lamp in the corner. The couch is piled with soft blankets and pillows, the faint scent of buttered popcorn still lingering in the air from the bowl now sitting empty on the coffee table. Yoongi sits in his usual spot, legs stretched out, one arm draped casually around your shoulders as you curl into his side. Your head rests against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear, his body warm and solid through the thin black t-shirt he’s wearing.

For a few blissful hours, the sex issue fades into the background.

You laugh together at the ridiculous comedy on screen, his low chuckle vibrating through his chest whenever something genuinely funny happens. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your arm, occasionally brushing through your hair in that absentminded way that always makes you feel safe. You steal glances at his profile, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his lashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks when he blinks, the subtle curve of his lips when he smirks at a joke. For once, your mind is quiet. No overthinking. No insecurity. Just the simple comfort of being wrapped up in your boyfriend, the two of you tangled together like you belong there.

As the movie credits start to roll and the second film begins autoplaying, the comfortable haze starts to shift. The room feels cozier now, warmer. The blanket draped over both of you traps heat between your bodies. You become hyper-aware of how close you are, his thigh pressed against yours, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the fabric softener on his shirt. Looking up at his face in the flickering light of the TV, something stirs in your chest. His expression is relaxed, peaceful, those dark eyes reflecting the screen. A sudden, sharp wave of want washes over you. You want him. Not just the quiet, controlled version from last night, but something more. You want to climb into his lap, feel his hands on you, lose yourself in him again— but this time without the doubts.

Maybe you were just being paranoid, you tell yourself. Maybe Wonyoung was right and he’s simply a quiet person in every aspect of life. Maybe last night was a fluke, and if you initiate tonight, it’ll be different. Better. You could make him feel good enough that he finally lets go.

The decision settles in your mind, warm and impulsive.

You shift slightly, turning your body toward him. Your lips find the side of his neck first— soft, slow kisses pressed just below his ear, where you know he’s sensitive. His skin is warm, slightly salty from the long day, and you breathe him in as you trail kisses down the column of his throat. One hand slides up under his shirt, palm gliding over the smooth planes of his chest, feeling the faint ridges of muscle and the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Yoongi’s breath catches for just a second. He turns his head toward you, and a small smile tugs at his lips.

But the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. There’s something off about it, too tight at the corners, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze before it smooths out. It’s odd, a tiny detail that nags at the back of your mind, but you push it aside. You’re already too far gone in the moment, desire overriding caution.

Encouraged, you let your hand drift lower, sliding down his stomach until your palm presses over the front of his sweatpants. He’s half-hard already, and you rub him slowly through the fabric, feeling him twitch and thicken under your touch. A few firm strokes, your fingers tracing the outline of him as you continue kissing and gently sucking at his neck, leaving faint marks that will probably fade by morning.

For a moment, it feels promising. His body responds, hips shifting ever so slightly under your hand.

Then he moves.

Yoongi lets out a quiet sigh, long and heavy, the kind that carries weight. He sits up straighter, gently but firmly catching your wrist to stop your movements. His other hand runs through his black hair, pushing it back from his forehead, then drags down over his face, rubbing at his eyes and the bridge of his nose like he’s suddenly exhausted or stressed. The TV light flickers across his features, highlighting the tension in his jaw.

You pull back, staring up at him in confusion, your hand still hovering where he stopped it. The warmth that had been building in your belly cools rapidly. “Yoongi…?” Your voice comes out softer than you intended, laced with uncertainty.

He doesn’t look at you right away. His gaze is fixed somewhere toward the TV, shoulders slightly slumped. The comfortable cocoon of the movie night suddenly feels fragile, like it could crack at any second. The blanket slips down to your laps as the distance between you grows, even though you’re still sitting right next to each other. Your heart starts to pick up speed, that familiar knot of insecurity creeping back in, stronger than before.

The room is quiet except for the low dialogue still playing from the movie, but the easy laughter from earlier is long gone. The silence stretches between you like a taut string, ready to snap.

Yoongi sits there on the couch, still slightly leaned forward, one hand lingering over his face as if he’s trying to wipe away whatever thought just crossed his mind. The TV continues playing in the background, the low murmur of dialogue and soft soundtrack now feeling intrusive instead of comforting. The air in the living room suddenly feels cooler, heavier. Your heart hammers in your chest, the earlier warmth of desire replaced by a sharp, anxious flutter.

You can’t take the quiet anymore. “Do you… not think I’m sexy?” The question slips out in the middle of the silence, small and fragile, barely louder than a whisper. Your voice cracks on the last word, and you hate how vulnerable it sounds.

Yoongi’s head snaps toward you instantly. His dark eyes widen, the relaxed expression from the movie night completely gone. For a second he just stares at you, like the words don’t compute. “What the hell?” he says, voice low but sharp with disbelief. “Why would you even think that?”

The intensity in his gaze makes your stomach twist. You look down at your hands, fingers twisting together in your lap, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. The confession starts pouring out, slow and halting at first, then gaining momentum as the insecurities you’ve been carrying finally break free.

“Because you’re so quiet during sex, Yoongi,” you say, voice trembling slightly. “You barely make any sounds at all. Just… a grunt sometimes, or that one low groan when you cum. That’s it. Nothing else. We never really switch positions much either, you stay on top, controlled, like you’re holding back the whole time. It always feels good physically. Really good. You know exactly what to do and I cum almost every time… but lately I keep getting stuck in my head. I start wondering if there’s something wrong with me. If I’m not doing enough, or if I don’t turn you on the way I used to. If maybe you’re just… going through the motions.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, swallowing hard. The words hang in the air, raw and exposed. You feel stripped bare, sitting there in the dim glow of the TV, the cozy movie night now feeling miles away.

Yoongi lets out a deep, heavy sigh. “Fuck…” he mumbles under his breath, the curse quiet but laced with frustration, not at you, but at the situation. He runs both hands through his hair, messing it up further, then drops them to his lap. For a moment he just sits there, shoulders tense. Then he shifts closer and sits fully beside you again, the couch dipping under his weight. His thigh presses against yours, warm and solid, but he doesn’t reach for you yet. He’s silent for another long second, eyes fixed on the floor in front of him, jaw tight. The pause feels endless, your pulse roaring in your ears.

Then he speaks, voice low and careful. “Was that why you faked it last night?”

Your breath catches. You turn to look at him, eyes wide with shock. “You… you knew?”

Yoongi nods slowly, still not quite looking at you. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a heaviness in it now. “Yeah. I could tell.” He pauses, swallowing. “I know your body. I know the way you sound when it’s real, the little hitch in your breath, the way your thighs shake, how your voice gets all breathy and broken. That wasn’t it. Not even close.”

He finally turns his head to face you fully, those sharp, dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your chest tighten. “Why did you do it?”

The question is gentle, but it still lands like a weight. You feel heat rush to your face, a mix of embarrassment and relief that he noticed, that he cared enough to pay attention. Your fingers fidget with the edge of the blanket as you answer, voice barely above a whisper at first.

“Because I go into my head about it… about how silent you are when you’re fucking me. It makes me think I’m not affecting you the way you affect me. That maybe it doesn’t feel as good for you, or that you’re not really lost in it. So last night I just… performed. I faked the moans and the movements because I didn’t want you to know I was doubting. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

The confession leaves you feeling drained, exposed. The room is quieter now, the movie long forgotten in the background. You can hear the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen, the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Yoongi’s presence beside you is steady, but the air between you crackles with everything unsaid.

He doesn’t interrupt. He just listens, eyes never leaving your face, that deep sigh from earlier still lingering in the way his shoulders remain slightly hunched. Your heart is still racing, cheeks warm with the vulnerability of having finally said it all out loud. You feel raw, like you’ve peeled back a layer of yourself and handed it to him.

Yoongi doesn’t speak right away.

Instead, he leans in slowly, one hand gently cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushes tenderly over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. Then his lips meet yours in a slow, gentle kiss. It’s soft at first— barely more than a press of warmth, then deepens just enough to feel reassuring. His mouth moves against yours with quiet care, tasting faintly of the popcorn from earlier and the familiar comfort of him. There’s no rush, no demand, just the steady reassurance of his lips and the way his fingers thread lightly into your hair.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests gently against yours, breath mingling warmly between you. His eyes are closed for a moment, silver lashes brushing his cheeks, before they open again, dark and earnest. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispers, voice low and rough with emotion. The apology settles over you like a warm blanket, sincere and heavy.

He stays close, forehead still pressed to yours, sharing the same air. “You’re the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen,” he continues, the words coming out quieter than usual, but no less intense. “I’ve never once not been satisfied with you. Not even close. Every single time… you drive me crazy.”

Then he pulls back just enough to look at you properly. A faint blush creeps across his pale cheeks, coloring the tips of his ears pink. He glances away for a second, toward the darkened TV screen, as if the admission costs him something. His fingers twitch where they rest on your thigh, like he’s fighting the urge to hide.

“I’ve been holding myself back,” he admits, voice dropping even lower, almost shy. “Because… I get embarrassed. I don’t know why exactly, but if I fully let go… if I let myself indulge in you the way I want to… I was scared you wouldn’t like it. That you’d think it was too much. Too loud. Too intense. That it would change how you see me.”

The confession hangs between you, surprising in its honesty. Yoongi, usually so composed, so in control, looks almost vulnerable sitting there with that soft blush and averted gaze. It makes your chest tighten with affection and a rush of heat at the same time. You let out a low, soft laugh, the sound gentle and warm in the quiet room. It’s not mocking; it’s full of fondness and relief. You reach up, gently turning his face back toward you with your fingertips on his jaw.

“Yoongi…” you murmur, smiling softly as you look into his eyes. “You are the hottest, sexiest man I’ve ever been with. Seriously. Nothing about you letting go could ever be ‘too much’ for me. I want it. I want to hear you. I want to feel how much I affect you. All of it.”

You take his hand in yours, fingers intertwining slowly. His palm is warm, slightly calloused from years of playing instruments and producing late into the night. You give it a gentle squeeze, thumb brushing over his knuckles.

“Do you want to try?” you ask softly, voice barely above a whisper, but full of quiet hope. “Right now?”

He looks at you for a long moment, eyes searching yours. The blush on his cheeks deepens just a fraction, but then he nods— slow, deliberate, decisive. “Yeah,” he breathes. His voice has shifted, gaining a new edge of determination beneath the softness. “I’m going to show you just how much you affect me.”

The words send a shiver down your spine. There’s a promise in them, dark and heated, wrapped in that familiar low tone of his. The air between you thickens instantly, the earlier tension transforming into something electric and anticipatory. Yoongi’s hand tightens around yours, his thumb stroking once over your skin before he leans in again, closer this time, lips hovering just inches from yours.

The living room feels smaller, warmer, the forgotten movie long irrelevant. All that matters now is the way he’s looking at you— like he’s finally allowing himself to unravel, just for you. He leans in and captures your lips again, but this kiss is different from the gentle one moments ago. It starts slow, almost reverent, his mouth moving against yours with deliberate care. Then it deepens. His hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he tilts his head and kisses you harder, tongue brushing against the seam of your lips, asking for entry.

You open for him instantly.

The kiss turns heavy, hungry. His tongue slides against yours, slow and thorough, tasting you like he’s trying to memorize every inch. A low, barely audible hum vibrates from his chest into your mouth— the first real sound he’s let slip tonight that isn’t guarded. His lips are soft but insistent, sucking gently on your lower lip before diving back in, the wet slide of tongue and shared breath making your head spin.

Your hands come up to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his black t-shirt as you kiss him back with everything you’ve been holding in. The earlier insecurity melts away under the heat of his mouth, replaced by a growing ache low in your belly. He kisses like he’s pouring years of restraint into this one moment— deep, consuming, and just a little desperate. Without breaking the kiss, Yoongi leans back against the couch cushions, pulling you with him. You follow eagerly, shifting until you’re sliding into his lap, knees settling on either side of his thighs. The position brings your bodies flush together, your chest pressed to his, the heat of him radiating through his thin shirt. His hands settle on your hips, gripping firmly as he tugs you closer, encouraging you to settle your weight fully on him.

You can already feel him hardening beneath you, the thick length of his cock pressing up against your core through the layers of fabric. It sends a spark of arousal through you, sharp and insistent.

Your fingers slide up into his black hair, threading through the soft strands. At first you just hold on, but as the kiss grows more heated— tongues tangling, breaths coming faster— you tighten your grip and pull. A low, broken groan escapes Yoongi’s throat. The sound is deep and raspy, vibrating against your lips. It’s not the restrained grunt you’re used to, it’s raw, involuntary, and it shoots straight to your core. You tug again, a little harder this time, nails lightly scraping his scalp, and another groan follows, louder this time, his hips twitching up into you instinctively.

“Fuck…” he breathes against your mouth, the curse muffled but unmistakable. His voice is already rougher, lower, the composure cracking. He kisses you even more desperately now, one hand sliding up your back under your shirt, palm hot against your bare skin, while the other stays anchored on your hip, guiding you to rock slowly against the growing bulge in his sweatpants. The friction is delicious, sending little waves of pleasure through you with every grind.

Yoongi’s breathing has grown heavier, no longer perfectly controlled. Each exhale comes with a quiet, shaky sound, half groan, half sigh as you continue to pull at his hair and roll your hips. His mouth moves from your lips to your jaw, then down to your neck, sucking and biting softly, leaving faint marks that make you shiver.

You can feel the tension in his body, the way his thighs are tight beneath you, the subtle tremor in his hands as he touches you. He’s letting go, piece by piece, and the sounds he’s starting to make— those low, gravelly groans that rumble from deep in his chest are everything you’ve been craving.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, lips swollen and wet, eyes dark with lust and something deeper. His hair is already messy from your fingers, falling into his eyes in a way that makes him look devastatingly attractive. “See what you do to me?” he murmurs, voice husky and strained. Another soft groan slips out when you roll your hips again. “This is just the start, baby.”

You roll your hips again, slower this time, dragging your core along the thick ridge of his cock through his sweatpants. The friction is perfect— hot, teasing, not enough and yet almost too much. A shaky breath leaves Yoongi’s lips, and this time it’s accompanied by a low, rumbling groan that vibrates straight through his chest and into yours. “Shit…” he mutters against your neck, the word barely formed but heavy with need. His hands tighten on your hips, fingers digging in as he guides you into another slow grind. "Feels good."

The praise hits you like a spark. You’ve never heard him talk like this during sex— never heard him say much of anything and it makes heat flood between your legs. You pull harder on his hair, tugging his head back slightly so you can look at his face. His eyes are half-lidded, dark and glossy, lips parted as another quiet groan slips out when you circle your hips just right.

You love it. You love every single sound he’s letting escape. Encouraged, you start moving with more purpose, rolling your hips in deep, deliberate waves, pressing down harder so the seam of your pants rubs right against his length. Each grind makes his cock twitch beneath you, growing fuller and harder until he’s rock-solid and straining against the fabric. The heat of him radiates through the layers, and you can feel yourself getting wetter, slickness starting to soak through your own panties.

Yoongi’s head falls back against the couch cushion, exposing the long line of his throat. Another groan tears from him— deeper, rougher, this time when you drag your clit along his cock again. “Fuck, baby… keep doing that,” he breathes, voice husky and strained. His usual composure is cracking wider with every roll of your hips. “You’re gonna make me lose it right here.”

You whimper at his words, the sound genuine and needy, and grind down harder, chasing the building pressure. Your hands stay buried in his hair, pulling and tugging in time with your movements, and every little yank draws another sound from him— a low curse, a broken groan, a shaky exhale that sounds almost like a whine. He’s talking more now, the words spilling out between heavy breaths as his restraint unravels.

“You have no idea… how much I want you,” he rasps, hips bucking up to meet your grind. “Every time I’m inside you I have to hold back so I don’t sound like a fucking mess…you feel too good.”

His hands slide up under your shirt, palms hot and greedy as they roam over your bare back, then down to squeeze your ass, pulling you even tighter against him. The new angle makes his clothed cock press right against your clit with every roll, sending sharp sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine. You moan softly, real and unrestrained, and Yoongi responds with a deep, guttural sound that makes your walls clench around nothing.

“Yeah… just like that,” he murmurs, voice dropping even lower. “Let me hear you too, baby. Don’t hold back for me.” You grind faster, more desperately, the couch creaking softly beneath you both. The fabric between you is starting to feel like too much, too many layers keeping you from what you really want. Sweat is already beading along Yoongi’s hairline, his hair sticking to his forehead in messy strands. His chest rises and falls quicker now, breaths coming in short, ragged pants punctuated by those beautiful, broken groans every time you drag your hips over him just right.

You lean down and kiss him again, messy, open-mouthed, tongues sliding hotly together. He groans into the kiss, the sound vibrating against your lips as his hips jerk up involuntarily, chasing more friction. One of his hands leaves your ass to slide between your bodies, pressing firmly over your core through your pants, rubbing in tight circles that match your grinding rhythm. “God, you’re so wet already,” he mutters against your mouth, voice thick with awe and lust. “All this just from grinding on me? Fuck… I did this to you?”

You nod frantically, pulling his hair again as another needy sound escapes him. You’re loving every second of it, the way his voice is getting raspier, the way he’s starting to talk dirty in that low, gravelly tone, the way his usual quiet control is shattering because of you. “Yoongi…” you whine, grinding down hard, “I love hearing you like this. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He lets out a shaky laugh that turns into a groan when you tug his hair particularly hard. His hips buck up sharply, pressing his cock right against your clit. The grinding has turned desperate, both of you breathing hard and chasing friction like you can’t get close enough. Yoongi’s hands are gripping your hips tightly, guiding every roll of your body against his, his cock rock-hard and throbbing beneath you

Then he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and glassy with lust. His voice comes out rough, almost pleading. “Ride me,” he says, the words thick and heavy. “Please, baby… I need you to ride me.”

Your heart stutters. You’ve never ridden him before. Almost every time you’ve had sex it’s been missionary— him on top, controlled and steady, quiet and composed. The idea of being on top, of taking him like this, makes nervous butterflies erupt in your stomach. But the way he’s looking at you, the raw need in his voice, the way his hands tremble slightly on your hips… you can’t say no. You nod, voice barely a whisper. “Okay… yeah.”

Relief and hunger flash across his face. Yoongi moves quickly but carefully, helping you peel off your shirt and bra, his hands warm and eager as they slide over your skin. He tugs your pants and panties down your legs, lifting you slightly so he can yank them off completely. You do the same for him, pulling his t-shirt over his head, exposing the lean, toned lines of his chest and stomach, then helping him shove his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs. His cock springs free, thick and flushed, already leaking at the tip, hard and curving slightly upward.

You’re both completely bare now, skin hot and flushed in the dim light of the living room. Yoongi leans back against the couch again, one hand wrapping around the base of his cock, holding it steady for you. His other hand rests on your thigh, thumb stroking soothing circles. You swing one leg over his lap fully, straddling him. Your hands find the back of the couch on either side of his head, gripping the cushions for balance. Slowly, you lower yourself, the head of his cock brushing against your slick folds. You’re so wet from all the grinding that it glides easily at first, but as you start to sink down, the stretch hits you.

Yoongi is big— thicker and longer than you sometimes remember in the heat of the moment. You pause halfway, breathing shakily as you adjust to his size, walls fluttering around him. The fullness is intense, almost overwhelming in this new position. A broken, needy sound escapes Yoongi the moment you start sliding down. “Fuck… oh my god,” he groans, low and guttural, head tipping back against the couch. His eyes squeeze shut for a second, lips parting as another deep moan rumbles from his chest. “You’re so tight… so fucking wet around me.”

He sounds completely gone already— pussy whipped in the best way. The usually quiet, controlled Yoongi is unraveling right beneath you, and you haven’t even taken all of him yet. You sink lower, taking another inch, and his hips twitch up instinctively. “Shit— baby, you feel incredible,” he rasps, voice strained and hoarse. His hands fly to your waist, not pushing, just holding on like he needs the anchor. “So good… taking me so well. Look at you…”

Another long, shaky groan leaves him when you finally bottom out, your ass flush against his thighs, his cock buried to the hilt inside you. His breathing is ragged now, chest rising and falling rapidly. You can feel him throbbing deep inside, hot and heavy, stretching you perfectly. “Fuck… I’ve wanted this,” he confesses, the words tumbling out between heavy breaths. “Wanted to see you on top of me like this… wanted to feel you ride me. You’re so sexy, baby. So fucking sexy.”

You stay still for a moment, hands gripping the back of the couch tightly, adjusting to the new angle and the overwhelming fullness. Every little shift of your hips makes him groan again, loud, unrestrained sounds that go straight to your core. Yoongi looks utterly wrecked already: eyes half-lidded and dark with lust, mouth open as more soft, desperate noises fall from his lips.

He’s never been this vocal, never this lost in it, and the sight of him like this— because of you—makes heat coil tight in your belly. You love it. You love how he can’t hold back the sounds anymore, how every tiny movement from you pulls another moan or curse from him. Yoongi’s hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts as he looks up at you with pure reverence.

“Whenever you’re ready… babe,” he murmurs, voice husky and pleading again. “Please. I need to feel you move.”

You take a shaky breath, hands gripping the back of the couch tighter as you adjust to the deep, full stretch of him inside you. Yoongi’s cock feels even bigger in this position— thick and hot, pressing against every sensitive spot with no escape. The fullness is overwhelming in the best way, sending little sparks of pleasure radiating through your core with every tiny shift of your hips. Slowly, you begin to move.

You rise up carefully, feeling every inch of him drag along your walls as you lift until only the head remains inside you. The stretch when you sink back down is incredible, slow, deliberate, and devastating. You let yourself fall fully onto his cock, taking him to the hilt in one smooth drop. A soft, breathy moan escapes your own lips at the sensation, but it’s nothing compared to the sound that rips from Yoongi. “Fuuuck…” he groans, long and deep, the word breaking at the end. His head falls back against the couch again, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers dig into your waist. “Baby… just like that. God, you feel so good sliding down on me.”

The praise makes your stomach flutter. You repeat the motion— rising slowly, savoring the drag, then letting gravity pull you back down, impaling yourself on his thick length. Each time you bottom out, his cock nudges deep inside you, pressing right against that spot that makes your thighs tremble. The wet, obscene sound of your bodies meeting fills the quiet living room, mixing with the growing chorus of his sounds.

Yoongi’s hands slide from your waist down to find yours. He laces your fingers together, gripping both of your hands firmly in his. His palms are warm and slightly sweaty, thumbs stroking over the backs of your hands in a grounding rhythm even as his breathing grows more ragged.

You hold onto him like that, hands clasped tightly as you start to find a steady pace. Up and down, rolling your hips in a smooth, sensual rhythm that has pleasure building low in your belly. Every rise lets you feel the thick drag of him leaving you, every fall lets you feel the delicious stretch as he fills you completely again. The angle is perfect; his cock rubs against your front wall with every movement, and when you grind down at the bottom of each stroke, your clit presses against his pubic bone, sending sharp bursts of ecstasy through you. Yoongi’s groans grow louder, less controlled. “Shit… yes,” he rasps, squeezing your hands harder. “Ride me just like that. You’re taking me so deep… fuck, I can feel every inch of you.”

His hips start to buck up gently to meet your downward strokes, not taking over but adding to the rhythm, driving him even deeper. The new pressure makes stars burst behind your eyelids. You both moan together, your sounds mixing with his deeper, rougher ones. He’s completely lost in it now, no longer holding anything back. “Look at you…” he breathes, voice husky and reverent. His eyes are open again, locked on where your bodies connect, watching his cock disappear inside you with every fall.

You squeeze his hands tighter, using the leverage to bounce a little harder, finding a pace that has you both seeing stars. The couch creaks softly beneath you with every movement. Sweat beads on Yoongi’s chest, making his skin glisten in the low light, he looks up at you with dark, blown-out eyes. Every time you sink down, he lets out a broken groan or a whispered curse. “Right there— fuck, baby, right there…” When you rise up slowly, dragging along his length, he whines softly, the sound so needy it makes your walls clench around him. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop.”

You’re both panting now, the pace steady but building— rising and falling, grinding at the bottom of each stroke, hands clasped tightly together like an anchor. Pleasure coils tighter and tighter in your core, the stretch and fullness combined with the new freedom of being on top making everything feel more intense. Yoongi’s sounds keep feeding your own arousal, each groan and rasp pushing you closer to the edge. He squeezes your hands again, thumbs stroking desperately over your skin. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep going like this,” he admits, voice strained and raw. “But don’t you dare slow down… I want to feel you fall apart on me first.”

You lean down slightly, lips brushing near his ear as you breathe out, voice soft but teasing, “Just like that, baby?” The words have an immediate effect. Yoongi’s eyes snap open wider, a low, guttural growl rumbling from deep in his chest. The sound is primal, nothing like the quiet grunts you’re used to. His fingers tighten around yours for a second before he suddenly releases your hands. Instead, his palms slide down to grip your hips firmly, fingers digging into the soft flesh with clear intent.

“Fuck yes… just like that,” he growls, voice rough and strained.

Before you can react, he plants his feet on the floor and starts thrusting up into you from below. The change is sudden and powerful— his hips snapping upward hard, driving his cock deep inside you with each powerful stroke. The new pace makes you bounce on his lap, breasts jiggling with every impact. The wet slap of skin against skin grows louder, echoing in the living room as he pounds into you relentlessly. You gasp sharply, hands flying to the back of the couch again for balance as he fucks you from below. Each thrust is deep and precise, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over. The stretch feels even more intense now, your walls clenching around him with every forceful plunge.

Emboldened by his reaction, you keep talking, voice breaking with every hard thrust. “How does my pussy feel?” you ask breathlessly, the dirty words spilling out before you can overthink them. “Tell me, Yoongi… does it feel good?”

Another deep, animalistic growl tears from his throat. His grip on your hips tightens almost bruisingly as he pulls you down to meet his upward thrusts, impaling you harder on his cock. The pace turns punishing— fast, deep, desperate. The couch creaks loudly beneath you both from the force of his movements. “So fucking good,” he snarls, voice low and gravelly, eyes locked on yours with raw hunger. “Your pussy is so tight… so wet… sucking me in like it was made for me. Fuck— I’ve never felt anything this good.”

He punctuates his words with sharper thrusts, hips snapping up brutally. Each powerful stroke makes your head spin, pleasure crashing through you in waves. You can feel how deep he is, how perfectly he fills you, the slick sounds growing wetter and messier as you drip around his cock.

Yoongi’s breathing is ragged, mixed with constant growls and broken moans. “Keep talking to me, baby,” he demands, voice hoarse. “Tell me more… I want to hear you.”

You moan loudly, the sound genuine and unrestrained as he continues pounding into you from below. His hands guide your hips to meet his thrusts, the rhythm relentless. Sweat slicks both of your skins, making your bodies slide together hotly. His hair is completely damp now, sticking to his forehead, and his face is flushed with exertion and lust. You ride the wave of his thrusts, letting him take control from below while you still set the angle. “You’re so deep like this,” you gasp, voice trembling. “I can feel you everywhere… you’re gonna make me cum if you keep fucking me like this.”

Yoongi lets out another feral growl, hips stuttering for a moment before he doubles down, thrusting even harder. One of his hands slides from your hip to your ass, squeezing hard as he pulls you down onto his cock with every upward snap.

“Yeah? You like when I pound into you like this?” he rasps, eyes dark and wild. “My baby talking dirty now… fuck, it’s driving me insane.” The new dynamic has you both spiraling, your words pulling more sounds and filthy confessions from him, his powerful thrusts from below making stars explode behind your eyes. The pleasure is building fast and intense, your walls fluttering around his thick length with every brutal stroke. Yoongi looks completely lost in you, growling and groaning with every thrust, no longer holding back even a single sound.

Yoongi’s grip on your ass is bruising as he uses it for leverage, pulling you down onto his cock with every powerful upward thrust. He’s pounding into you from below with relentless force now, hips snapping up hard and fast, driving his thick length deep inside you over and over. The wet, filthy sound of skin slapping against skin fills the living room, mixing with his low, animalistic growls and your broken moans.

One of his hands stays firmly on your ass, squeezing and spreading you as he fucks up into you, while the other slides up your back, fingers digging into your skin. Every brutal stroke hits that perfect spot inside you, the angle making his cock rub against your front wall relentlessly. Pleasure coils tighter and tighter in your core, winding like a spring ready to snap. “Yoongi—fuck, I’m—” Your voice breaks as the orgasm crashes over you without warning.

Your entire body jolts violently on top of him. Your walls clamp down hard around his cock, pulsing and fluttering as waves of intense pleasure rip through you. Your thighs shake uncontrollably, toes curling, back arching sharply as you cry out. Bright sparks explode behind your eyelids. You grind down desperately against him, riding out every pulse, your slickness gushing around his length as you cum hard on his cock.

Yoongi groans loudly at the feeling, a deep, wrecked sound that vibrates through his chest, but he doesn’t let himself follow you over the edge. His thrusts slow just enough to help you ride it out, but his cock stays rock-hard and throbbing inside you, denying his own release.

The moment your shaking starts to ease, he moves.

In one swift, fluid motion, Yoongi pulls out of you, leaving you feeling devastatingly empty. You barely have time to whimper at the loss before he’s manhandling you with surprising strength. He flips you over the arm of the couch, bending you forward so your chest and stomach press against the soft cushions while your ass is raised high for him. Your knees sink into the seat, legs spread wide.

You gasp sharply as he grabs both of your arms, pulling them behind your back and pinning them there with one strong hand. The position leaves you completely exposed and at his mercy, breasts squished against the couch, cheek resting on the cushion.

Yoongi doesn’t give you a second to adjust.

He slams back into you in one hard, deep thrust, burying his cock to the hilt in your still-spasming pussy. The new angle is even deeper, stretching you wide and making your eyes roll back. A loud, broken moan tears from your throat at the sudden fullness. Then he starts fucking you hard and fast. His hips snap forward with brutal precision, pounding into you from behind like he’s lost all control. The sound of his pelvis slapping against your ass is loud and obscene, echoing through the room. Each powerful thrust rocks your entire body forward, the arm of the couch digging into your stomach as he rails you relentlessly.

“Fuck— yes,” he growls, voice rough and feral. His free hand grips your hip tightly, using it as leverage to pull you back onto his cock with every stroke. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Me losing control… fucking you like this.”

You love it. You love every second of it.

The way he has your arms pinned behind your back makes you feel deliciously helpless, completely owned by him. Every hard thrust sends fresh sparks of pleasure shooting through you, your sensitive walls still fluttering from your orgasm. The new position hits even deeper, his cock dragging along every sensitive spot inside you. You’re moaning loudly, unrestrained, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts as much as you can in this trapped position.

Yoongi’s sounds are constant now— deep, guttural growls, broken groans, and filthy words spilling from his lips with every slam of his hips. “God, your pussy is gripping me so tight,” he rasps, pounding harder. “So fucking wet… you came so hard on me and you’re still this greedy for more?”

He leans over you, chest pressing against your back, lips brushing your ear as he fucks you even faster, building another orgasm dangerously quickly. You’re trembling, moaning into the cushion, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure of being taken so roughly, so desperately by him. Yoongi’s pace never falters— hard, fast, deep, his hand keeping your arms securely pinned while he claims you completely.

Yoongi is fucking you so hard that the entire couch shifts beneath you with every brutal thrust.

Your arms are still pinned behind your back by his strong grip, your body bent helplessly over the arm of the couch as he rails into you from behind. Each powerful snap of his hips drives his thick cock impossibly deep, the wet, obscene slap of skin against skin echoing loudly in the room. Your pussy is soaked, fluttering and clenching around him with every stroke, still sensitive from your first orgasm. The overwhelming pleasure has tipped over into something almost too intense — your moans have turned into broken sobs, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as your body jolts forward with every thrust.

“Fuck… you’re taking me so well,” Yoongi growls, voice rough and strained, but he doesn’t slow down. His hips piston into you relentlessly, the head of his cock dragging against that perfect spot inside you over and over. “Look at you… sobbing on my cock. So fucking pretty.”

He leans closer, chest pressed hot against your back, lips brushing your ear as he keeps pounding into you. “Tell me, baby… whose pussy is this?”

You can barely form words through the sobs and moans tearing from your throat. Every hard thrust knocks the breath out of you, making your voice come out shaky and wrecked. “It’s yours,” you sob, the words breaking apart. “It’s yours… only yours, Yoongi— ahh!”

The moment the confession leaves your lips, his free hand comes down hard on your ass in a sharp smack. The sting blooms hot across your skin, making you cry out louder. He doesn’t stop there, smack after smack lands on your ass, alternating cheeks, each one timed perfectly with a deep thrust. The pain mixes deliciously with the pleasure, sending sparks shooting straight to your core.

Your ass burns under his palm, but you push back against him desperately, craving more. You’re losing yourself completely— mind hazy, body trembling, tears streaming down your face as he claims you so thoroughly. Yoongi growls in approval, landing one particularly hard smack that makes your whole body jolt. “That’s right. This pussy is mine. Only mine. No one else gets to feel how tight and wet you get.”

Then he releases your arms only to slide his hand up and fist tightly into your hair. He yanks your head back firmly, arching your back deeper as he slams into you over and over and over. The angle is devastating — his cock drives even deeper, pounding that sensitive spot with brutal precision. The pull on your scalp sends fresh waves of pleasure-pain through you, making your sobs turn into high, broken whimpers.

“Fuck—yes, just like that,” he snarls, hips snapping relentlessly. “Take it. Take every fucking inch.”

You’re completely lost now, body shaking violently as another orgasm builds fast and unstoppable. Your walls flutter wildly around his cock, clenching down hard as the pleasure crests.

“I’m— I’m cumming— Yoongi!” you sob loudly, the words dissolving into a broken cry.

Your second orgasm hits you even harder than the first. Your entire body convulses, pussy spasming and gushing around his thick length as waves of intense ecstasy crash through you. Your thighs shake uncontrollably, vision blurring with tears, sobs tearing from your throat as you cum hard on his cock, soaking him and the couch beneath you.

Yoongi follows right behind you.

A deep, trembling groan rips from his chest as his hips stutter. He slams into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he cums hard, thick ropes of hot cum spilling deep inside you. His whole body trembles against your back, muscles locking up as he pulses and fills you completely. Low, broken sounds keep falling from his lips— raw, unrestrained groans and shaky curses as he rides out his orgasm, hips grinding shallowly against your ass to push every last drop into you.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room are your combined heavy breathing and soft, lingering whimpers. Yoongi’s grip on your hair loosens gently, his hand sliding down to stroke your back soothingly even as his cock continues to twitch inside you. His body is still trembling slightly against yours, sweat-slicked chest pressed to your back, heart hammering wildly.

He stays buried deep, both of you panting and shaking in the aftermath, the intensity of what just happened hanging heavy and electric in the air. His chest is still pressed to your back, heart pounding wildly against your skin. Then, slowly and carefully, he pulls out of you with a wet, slick sound. A soft whimper escapes your lips at the sudden emptiness and the gush of his cum that immediately starts leaking down your thighs.

Your body gives out completely.

You slump forward against the arm of the couch, completely spent, limbs heavy and boneless. Your cheek presses into the soft cushion, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Every muscle feels deliciously used— your thighs still quivering, your ass warm and stinging from his smacks, your pussy pulsing with the aftershocks of two intense orgasms. Tears of overwhelming pleasure still cling to your lashes, and your breathing comes in shaky, ragged gasps.

You hear Yoongi move behind you, his footsteps soft on the floor. He disappears for a moment, then returns with a warm, damp cloth. Gently, almost reverently, he cleans you up — wiping away the mess of your combined releases from between your thighs, along your folds, and down your legs with careful strokes. His touch is soothing now, completely different from the rough way he’d handled you just minutes ago. The warm cloth feels heavenly against your overheated skin.

When he’s done, he helps you shift off the arm of the couch and onto the cushions properly. You curl onto your side, still breathing hard, body limp and glowing. Yoongi grabs the glass of water from earlier (the one that had been forgotten on the coffee table) and refills it in the kitchen before coming back. He sits on the edge of the couch and carefully helps you sit up just enough to take a few slow sips. The cool water slides down your throat, soothing and refreshing.

You look up at him through heavy-lidded eyes as he sets the glass aside. Yoongi’s hair is a complete mess, damp strands sticking to his forehead. His cheeks are still flushed, chest rising and falling with deep breaths, but his expression has softened completely— those sharp eyes now warm and full of affection as he looks at you. “That was…” you start, voice hoarse and wrecked from all the moaning and sobbing. You swallow, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

Yoongi lets out a soft, breathless laugh, the sound low and warm. He leans down and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose, and finally to your lips— slow, gentle, and full of love. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing away the last traces of tears. “Yeah,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice still a little raspy. “Me too, baby. Best I’ve ever had. Hands down.”

He kisses you again, deeper this time but still so tender, lips moving softly against yours like he’s pouring every ounce of his feelings into it. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed for a moment as he savors the closeness.

“I love you,” he whispers, the words quiet but heavy with meaning. “So much. And I’m sorry I held back for so long. I never want you to doubt how crazy you make me… how much you affect me.”

You smile tiredly, reaching up to thread your fingers through his messy hair. “I love you too. And I’m glad you finally let go. It was… everything.” Yoongi hums softly in agreement, shifting so he can lie down on the couch and pull you into his arms. He tucks you against his chest, one arm wrapped securely around your waist while his other hand strokes slow, soothing patterns up and down your back. His skin is still warm, heart beating steady beneath your ear now that the intensity has faded.

The living room is quiet again, the TV long forgotten, only the sound of your slowing breaths and the faint hum of the apartment filling the space. You feel safe, cherished, and thoroughly satisfied— the earlier insecurities completely washed away by the way he just proved exactly how much you mean to him. Yoongi presses another soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you close as you both come down together, bodies tangled and hearts even closer.

perm taglist ﹐ → @merakoo @rpwprpwprpwprw @littlejeanskirt @mikrokookiex

[gukcnt]

DON'T DISTRACT ME, BABY » MYG

yoongi's glasses make you so horny that he stops working to eat your pussy on his desk, fogs up the lenses and lets you cum all over them... ruining you completely.

PAIRING. bf dom!yoongi x gf sub!femreader

GENRE. established relationship, slice of life, domestic and cozy vibes, romance, smut, fluff

WARNINGS/TAGS. 18+, explicit smut, oral sex (f. receiving), reader gets turned on from his glasses, sexual fantasies, glasses kink, makeout and kisses, cunnilingus, pussy eating, fingering, desk sex, face sitting, cum play and swallowing, multiple orgasms, slight breast and nipple play, tongue fucking, dirty talk and praise kink, overstimulation, slight edging, clit stimulation, ass groping, one spank, grinding on glasses and orgasming onto it, sweet aftercare, they're just so in love w each other

WC. 4.6k

A/N. i had to write this quickly because yoongi with glasses has been driving me crazy 😩 especially after the recent mv! i couldn't stop thinking about him so enjoy reading this, my nasty babes <33

「 MASTERLIST 」

your boyfriend yoongi had been working for several hours on his laptop, finishing his latest track.

he sat on the big chair, all focused on the screen in front of him.

a half finished black coffee beside him that you'd brought him an hour ago.

his posture was relaxed but still in an intensely concentrated manner that always made your heart skip a beat.

he was wearing a hoodie only, his dark hair fell messily over his forehead and every so often he would absentmindedly push his new thin rectangular glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger.

the gesture was so simple yet it made your legs squeeze together.

you had been curled up on the small couch in the corner of his studio for what felt like hours now, he brought that couch especially for you only so he could have you in his space while he works.

he doesn’t like having you away from him for even a second.

there was a forgotten book open on your lap as your eyes kept drifting away from the pages and towards him.

the way the glow from the monitors reflected on his glasses, his brows furrowing in focus which made his already cat like eyes sharper.

it made him look effortlessly authoritative and intelligent, also attractive in a way that made your cheeks turn pink.

he started wearing glasses a few weeks ago and you had openly admitted to him how much the glasses affected you.

“they look really good on you yoongi... like, so sexy.” you had confessed the first night.

he had simply smirked and adjusted them with one finger, no doubt feeling pride at the observation and his girl's approval.

“noted. i'll keep that in mind.”

and he had.

ever since whenever he slipped them on for work, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything else.

a need that didn’t go away with every passing minute you spent watching him.

the longer you sat there stealing glances the more your clit throbbed insistently, your nipples hardening under your tank top and you could feel your panties get soaked clinging to your folds.

you don’t like to wear much when you're at home anyways so you're just wearing a tiny black tank top with no bra and panties only.

yoongi preferred you like this.

you shifted on the couch, twirling a strand of your hair and read one single sentence several times in your book.

you’ve been trying to behave but you can't focus on anything else.

finally when you couldn’t hold back any longer, you stood up slowly feeling your stomach flutter from nervousness.

you walked to his desk and stood beside him, yoongi didn’t immediately turn his head away from the screen but you noticed the way he tilted his head and the slight curve of his lips that told you he had been very aware of you the entire time.

“yoongi…”

you called out but your voice came out more breathy than you intended as you took in his clean male scent.

“hmm?”

he responded as his free hand reached out instinctively, fingers brushing along the side of your bare thigh, stroking it making you shiver.

his voice was always so deep that sometimes that was all you needed to hear to get horny.

you could never get enough of his voice.

“what's up baby? you’ve been squirming over there for a while now.”

he was almost amused still typing something on his keyboard as if he could read every single dirty thought running through your mind without even needing to look at you fully.

you swallowed hard as your finger twisted the edge of your panty.

“i… i know you've been working for a while and i can't stop looking at you in those glasses.”

you let out in a rush shyly but don’t admit how crazy it has been driving you as you look at him with half lidded eyes.

a chuckle rumbled out of him as he spun his chair around to face you properly, one of his eyebrows arched.

he scanned your face and then went down taking in the way your curves are right there for him to stare at, barely clothed in anything.

“yeah? you really like them that much huh?”

he never thought you'd get this worked up from watching him work as he leaned back slightly in his chair, spreading his legs a little wider in invitation.

the silver rings on his fingers were visible to you as he rested one hand on his thigh.

“i do… a lot.” you whispered.

biting down on your lower lip as your pussy clenched emptily.

“you look so… dominant like this.”

his gaze darkened noticeably behind his glasses as the word “dominant” left your lips.

“such a good girl for admitting it...” he praised and you let out a shaky breath.

“since you're so distracted by my glasses and can't seem to sit still… maybe i should give you a much closer look and take care of you while i keep my glasses on, you like this idea?”

his other hand adjusted his glasses with that same middle finger push you loved so much and this time he did it almost cockily.

“yes..” you moaned softly.

“come here mama.”

he patted his thigh once with his palm gesturing to where he wants you without words.

you moved between his spread legs without a second thought but instead of simply sitting on his lap, you leaned down first capturing his lips for a quick kiss without being able to help yourself.

he deepens the kiss immediately as his hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, fingers curling into your hair possessively.

you mewled into his mouth as you tasted the coffee he had been sipping earlier along with the unique taste he always has as his tongue brushed against yours, your hands resting on his broad shoulders for balance.

“yoongi... your work—” you started, glancing at the open laptop.

when he finally pulled back just enough to speak, both of your breaths mingling together.

“work can wait a little while.. my baby needs my attention right now which is more important.” he lets out roughly.

he had no heart to ignore that pretty pussy which was calling for him.

he was aware of it.

he picks you up until your feet dangle above the ground making you gasp at the way he always manhandles you effortlessly, his hand between your armpits as he settles you over the very edge of his large desk.

your heart pounded at the feeling of your warm thighs settling over the wooden desk.

papers and a notebook shifted under your weight and the mouse slid a bit as your hip brushed against it but yoongi didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

he rolled his chair forward until he was positioned perfectly between your now spread things.

“spread your legs wider for me sweet girl, let me see you...”

you obeyed, your breathing already coming out faster in anticipation as you watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly drag them down your legs before he tossed them carelessly aside onto the floor somewhere beside him.

“mmph.”

you let out a whimper as the studio air hits your now exposed cunt, your glistening folds visible to him.

“look at this pretty pussy.”

he murmured reverently with appreciation as he leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning over your mound making you pant in excitement.

“so fucking wet and swollen for me... you're dripping all over my desk already and i haven't even touched you properly mm?”

his filthy words made your cheeks turn redder as you nodded, unable to deny how desperately aroused you felt.

“yes... it's all because of you and those glasses.” you croaked out shamelessly.

no longer having the restraint to keep your feelings hidden.

“i've been aching for hours.”

a coy look takes place in his face as he starts leaving open mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, each one making your skin tingle also leaving remnants of his saliva as you writhe.

his free hand rested on your other thigh thumb rubbing teasing circles that inched ever closer to your center without quite reaching it while he kept his eyes on you, a grin on his lips from your reaction.

when his mouth hovered directly over your twitching clit that was so engorged it had escaped from its hood, he paused there just letting his breath brush against it.

knowing it makes you a little mad.

he could never get enough of having you in this state and all open for him so he always takes his time, having the privilege of being your man which he can never fully believe.

he's always thankful for having you so he never misses any opportunity to worship you.

“yoongi... please don't tease me too much.”

you begged as your hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly.

“shh i got you baby. i'm gonna take my time with this little pussy because you deserve it.”

he whispered against you and then without further warning, his tongue which has always been incredibly skilled since the beginning of your relationship like it has a mind of its own, knew how to move in the exact way to please you.

it knew you better than yourself.

he dragged a long stripe from your dripping entrance all the way up to your throbbing clit.

“uh—ahh fuck yoongi... that feels so good.” you cried out.

your head tilts back with parted lips and he hums in approval which travels straight to your core making your walls flutter around nothing.

“mhmm you taste so fucking perfect baby... so ready for my mouth always.”

he can never get enough of the amount of honey you produce for him, he holds your plump folds apart to see more dribbles of your creamy mess leaking one by one.

“shitt.” he cursed in a dreamy sign from the way your pussy responds to him.

his tongue explored every inch of you slowly, circling your clit with quick flicks and then capturing the bud between his lips before releasing it with a wet pop and flicking it with his tongue and then sucking again.

“oh god..” you whined.

he can probably spend an entire day playing with your clit with his tongue and fingers like it's a little button.

one of his hands slid upwards under your flimsy top to cup a breast and roll the hardened nipple between his fingers with just enough pressure to double the sensations for you.

“mm... ah...”

your moans grew louder not being able to stop yourself as one of your hands fisted his hair while your legs kept his head trapped between your thighs.

“keep making those pretty noises for me… yeah… let me hear exactly how much you love my tongue on you.”

your body responds automatically as your hips rock subtly against his face.

“uh… uh… uh… yoongi your tongue feels—”

your words get interrupted with a sequel as another particularly skillful flick of his tongue lands on your clit making your back arch almost entirely off the table.

he looks up at you never stopping his mouth, drinking in your expressions as the wet noises and your whimpers of satisfaction fill the room obscenely.

it was so erotic.

and suddenly everything felt hot from the way both of you started sweating.

yoongi continued focusing on your clit using the pointed top of his tongue for a more targeted stimulation, knowing how much you love it.

like the perfectionist he was, he changed his motions based on your reactions.

you fisted one of his work sheets, unknowingly crumbling it which he didn't mind because he started eating you out even faster.

his fingers eventually joined the assault too, two digits probing your slit circling the slick opening before finally pushing inside your tight cunt in one thrust and you were so wet that he slipped even deeper on his own.

“ohh!”

you let out a surprised sob at the sudden stretch even though he's fingered you over a hundred times now but still now the feeling of his long fingers took your breath away.

his fingers immediately curled in that spongy spot deep inside you.

“fuuuuck yess right there! gosh yoongi, your fingers… it feels s-so good!”

you cried out loudly which sounded so much louder in the room as your pussy clenched on him once again.

the combination of his tongue on your clit and the way he keeps on pumping his fingers in and out of you has you murmuring nonsense into your hand.

you gripped the table so hard, your knuckles turned white.

sclick. sclick. sclick.

your pussy makes pornographic noises from the amount of arousal you keep on making and it is coating his hand now too, also dripping on the desk beneath you.

he groaned against your pussy, pulling away for a bit to talk but still with his mouth pressed against your labia.

“that's my good girl… so tight and greedy..”

a quiet overwhelmed scream left you when he added a third finger stretching you to your limits, increasing the pace just enough to push you to the edge without letting you tip over yet.

his glasses were starting to fog up from the heat and his own labored breaths.

the sight of it only heightened the moment for you.

“yoongi your glasses… they're getting all foggy from me.”

you panted between desperate moans as you watched him continue devouring you.

“ugh i can'tt.”

you whined as he kept on thrusting, scissoring his fingers while rubbing that soft spot deep inside your pussy like he's inspecting you on the inside.

he lifted his gaze to meet yours and you could see the lust in his eyes even though they were partially hidden behind the clouded lenses.

“yeah that's good isn't it? means i'm eating this pussy exactly right. you like seeing me like this? all foggy because of how wet and hot you are for me?”

he encourages you further with his murmurs against you as his fingers curl harder and faster now, directly sucking onto your clit as if he wants something to come out of it.

you couldn't take it anymore.

you were losing your mind.

from his words, every thrust, every suck, from his whole presence alone.

“i'm so close ahh please don't stop yoongi! i'm gonna cum so hard..”

tears welled in your eyes as your entire body tensed with the impending release.

“not yet mama. hold it just a little longer for me.”

he growled against your folds, slowing his movements for a few seconds to keep you teetering right on the edge and to keep you crying for a bit more.

then he sped up again relentlessly, three fingers thrusting deep and fast while also using his nose to grind up straight between your folds.

that's it. it happened like that.

your whole body seized and shook as the orgasm crashed over you and you crumble more of his papers on the desk and even making some files fall but you were too deep in it to notice.

“yoongi shitt i'm—i'm cumming! ahhuh yes yes oh god!” you let out a choked scream.

your cunt clenched around his fingers, fluttering weakly as gushes dripped down his hand and messily pooled on his desk.

your moans turned into cries as you clamped his head tighter between your legs and you tried to stop yourself, scared that you'd suffocate him but he grunted lowly holding you closer, which signaled how much he loved to be crushed by you.

he kept on licking and fingering slowly through the aftershocks until you were pushing his head away while letting out murmurs dumbly.

when the peak finally began to ebb leaving you breathing heavily, did yoongi slowly withdraw his fingers.

a snarl escaping him as he sat back in his chair with his chest heaving.

he held the glossy fingers up proudly and he sucked them clean while looking at you with hooded eyes, his tongue working around as you whimpered.

his glasses were completely fogged up now.

the only thing that was missing was his glasses soaked with your essence… it was one of your dirty fantasies.

and you wanted to do it.

even though you felt boneless from cumming as your body twitches with renewed interest.

you looked down at him through your post orgasmic haziness, still trying to catch your breath.

“yoongi...” you cooed almost.

“can i… can i cum on your glasses this time? i wanna rub myself all over them and make an even bigger mess… please.” you breathe out.

even in your ears, it sounded so naughty.

his eyes widened for a bit before a slow smirk took place on his lips, his tongue coming out to lick at his bottom lip slowly where there were still remnants of your release.

he pushed his chair back slightly to give you space as he gripped your thighs.

“you want that baby?”

you nod eagerly with flushed cheeks.

“please...”

he lets out a hoarse laugh, closing his eyes for a bit before fixing it on your face.

“god what am i supposed to do with this dirty girl huh?” he says so adoringly that it makes you feel giddy on the inside.

“come here then use my glasses however you want. soak me, grind your cum all over the lenses... whatever you want mama.”

he helped you slide off the desk on still shaky legs and straddle his lap.

your breasts rises and falls at his words and the way he always treats all your needs as if they were his own, always exploring whatever the other wants with no judgment.

because both of you were just as filthy and downbad for each other.

that's why people say you both just fit so well.

you shuddered when your sensitive pussy hovered just above his obvious bulge that held his rock hard cock.

but he was so focused on you and making you feel good to even notice that.

instead of making you sink down on him, he placed an arm under your butt and picked you up making your legs wrap around his waist as he carried you to the couch before he settled down on it first.

he tilts his head back just enough, holding your hips steady as he looks up at you expectantly.

“go on pretty baby, rub that slutty pussy right on my glasses… mm i wanna feel every bit of it.”

the command makes your legs squeeze together as you look down at him with parted lips, your hair framing your face.

he crooks a finger in your direction so you'd come and sit right on his face.

“don't make me ask twice y/n.”

you shivered at him calling your name, he only does that when he is in his serious and strict mood.

it always makes you weak in the knees.

you didn't waste time and lowered yourself carefully until your slick folds made direct contact with his glasses.

the glass against your already overheated clit created an entirely new and different feeling.

“oh... gosh gahh yoongi... it feels weird… but so good.”

you moaned sharply, your legs settling firmly on either side of his face as he gripped your ass cheeks parting them for better access.

your hips begin to rock on their own experimentally smearing your arousal across his frame, making the glasses even more opaque as your release began to run down the sides.

he gave your ass a firm squeeze as he watched you with feral eyes.

“that's it… just like that… you're doing so well… does it feel good having my lenses rubbing against your clit hmm?”

he asked with genuine curiosity as your whines grew louder and more shakier, even you couldn't fathom that you could make such wanton noises.

“yess nghh... i-it feels amazing… knowing it's your glasses makes it so much better uh...”

he lets out an animal growl at your words, another one of his favorite things during moments of intimacy is your honesty.

your hips shuddered because you're already sensitive from the orgasm you had just a few minutes ago so it made you a little weak as your hands dug into his chest grabbing the fabric of his hoodie.

he kneaded your ass and landed a sharp spank, making you sob as he helped guide your movements up and down when he realized you're slowing down.

it was so lewd.

like you're nothing but just a sex doll and you're releasing so much liquid that it didn't take much effort, too, you were slippery enough to glide all over his glasses.

you were swimming in pleasure.

you selfishly wanted more and everything all at once.

“more… more… please more…”

“keep going mama... cum whenever you want to… make a fucking mess.” he urged.

he whispers praises for you as your tongue lolls out in ecstasy, sweat forming on your forehead as he rubs your back soothingly while your clit is getting all the unique frictions from the edge of his glass.

it felt too much like you wanted to escape from it, yet want more and more.

you yelped as you saw a bit of your arousal land on his eyelid.

“oh no! i'm sorry i'll—”

he stilled you with one hard grip on your waist as he glared up at you.

“don't you dare stop, it doesn't matter… you're not stopping.” he rasps out.

a tear streams down your face in pleasure when his tongue comes out to catch a droplet of you.

“b-but i don't want you getting hurt.. it's going to get inside your eyes.”

“continue.”

that's all he said, just that single word in his strict voice.

you knew he wasn't going to listen otherwise so your hips moved on their own.

you let out breathless cries as he guided you to move faster, your hips quivering so much you thought they'd give out.

“i can't i can't, oh god oh god, fuckk going to, going to cum.. c-cum—!” you hiccuped.

“do it, cum hard for me… come on.”

he demanded as his tongue lapped up at you in the most delicious way.

the second orgasm hits you suddenly that you had to grip the couch to steady yourself as spurts and spurts of your essence left you, hitting him all over the face.

you felt so guilty, but you couldn't stop yourself as it soaked his lips and glasses and all over.

“ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh—!”

you cried out repeatedly, hips grinding through the climax until your body had no more energy and he guided you slowly until your forehead rested against his.

both of you breathing heavily.

after several long moments of shared breathing, yoongi removed the thoroughly ruined glasses from his face which were completely glistening with cum.

thoroughly ruined and marked.

now that the high has left you, you let out a mortified whimper at how nasty you've been and hide your face on his chest making him chuckle lowly.

he sets them aside and wraps both of his arms around you, pulling you closer into his chest.

“damn baby... you really did a number on them didn't you?”

he rubbed loving patterns on your back and you laughed breathlessly, still riding the feeling from multiple orgasms.

“sorry... not sorry.”

you got carried away and you knew it but couldn't help it.

it isn't your fault that he was so hot.

he nuzzled his face on your neck planting kisses along your cheeks and throat as you did the same to him, tasting your own release there even though he didn't attempt to wipe you off him.

he liked having you get him all messy on him.

he titled your chin up with his finger to capture your lips in a slow kiss that allowed you to taste yourself more intimately as you both groan together from it.

your hearts beating hard together and so damn connected.

“don't ever apologize for getting needy like that for me, i love it when you lose control because of something as simple as my glasses you got it?”

he looks straight into your eyes so he makes sure you're getting each of his words.

“it means i'm doing my job right.”

he grumbles against your mouth and you let out a happy sound.

he never fails to make you feel so adored and desired.

after a few more minutes of just cuddling and talking about silly stuff basking in each other and the smell of sex, did yoongi's attention finally land on the laptop screen that was still glowing with the work he had to eventually return to.

even though he'd love to spend time with you instead, take you to bed and fuck you right up and he was aching inside his jeans.

he wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine and make you wait.

making you impatient always brings out the best outcome and he also wanted to finish all his work before he could concentrate on you fully.

after a while he helped you off his lap making you pout but it soon melts away when he helps you put on the fluffy pink blanket over your legs after wiping you clean gently with tissues and even his face in the process.

your panties were too ruined for you to wear them again and he wanted you bare underneath.

he adjusted your top so you felt comfortable again, he then picked you up with the blanket wrapped around you like a roll of burrito and settled you over his lap on the chair.

he didn't want you away from him.

he gave you that lazy knowing smile, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“think i can get back to work now? or are you gonna distract me again?”

he teased, thumbing your cheek while his other hand moved for the mouse.

“hmm... depends.”

you pretend to think as you settle against his chest with a contented sigh, feeling all comfy with him.

“maybe... but no promises after i clean those glasses for you to wear them again… i might need another closer look later.” you say cheekily.

he laughs hoarsely and shakes his head.

“such a brat huh? but i wouldn't have you any other way.”

the rest of the afternoon went on like that with your eyes half open, focusing on his work that you barely understood while he gave you touches occasionally.

sometimes leaning down to kiss any part of your exposed skin until you almost purred like a kitten being petted.

this was what he lived for.

you all wrapped in him while he did his tasks, just happy to have you there and he couldn't be anywhere else in the world.

he was the luckiest man alive.

“i love you lot baby, you know that?”

you let out a small breath and cupped his cheek, placing a kiss on his nose making his eyes close with a smile.

“i know… but i love you more.”

he opened his eyes with a mocking glare.

“impossible.”

his hand brushed on the ticklish side of your stomach, making you giggle and squirm.

and you knew in your heart without any of his words spoken because his eyes spoke.

promising that the night was far from over.

that he was gonna give you all the attention you want afterward.

you couldn’t wait.

perm. taglist : @chaelvrx @slutology00 @furioustrashlover @kelsyx33 @kooever @svnbangtansworld @xcviis @snuglymalicioussea @nellbyy @minewlove @l4yl44 @captainengineer-trixie @cristy-101 @fangirl-coco-goddess @lachesismoonmist @angelfuzzy2 @levisnumber1 @angelsdecalcomania @magicalnachocreator @hynjamkook @koodollylvr @withmuchluv-tannie @istarag @elmarimochi9513 @wtfanu @kooklv @endlesslysassy @tatamicc @armybomb-infires @jiniminisworld @seokjinthescientist @gyeomibearr @xmiaacxio @n0chuprettykook @gizaspicebag @aaclariww @dollytingz @kskskskskskskskss @imjustcrabby @jeonette @mrskimjoon

© GUKCNT — all rights reserved.

[hiredars0nist]

first wae of the new era

[toastynamgi]

the boy is mine

ᯓ★ SOMETHING ABOUT HIM IS MADE FOR SOMEBODY LIKE ME

genre. smut, one-shot [completed]

pairing. non-idol!bangtan, producer!yoongi x y/n, bestfriend’s sister to lovers

warnings. cussing, 4 years age gap, high sex-drive, under the influence of aphrodisiac, unprotected consensual sex.

word count. 10k

summary. Your brother, Namjoon, loves you far too much to leave you alone after your stupid ex-boyfriend dumped you. Determined to cheer you up, he insists on bringing you along as his plus one to his best friend—Seokjin, bachelor’s party. Growing up around his friends your entire life, neither you nor the rest of them find it strange—it’s simply the way things have always been. When Seokjin books the hotel rooms for the trip, an unfortunate oversight occurs. A hotel staff misses the reservation for your room due to a system glitch, resulting in a double booking—and by the middle of the night, you’re left without a place to sleep. With everyone else on the trip far too drunk and wasted to help solve the problem, you have little choice but to share a room with Yoongi—your brother’s closest best friend and, unfortunately, your long-time crush. Everything was fine until you ate something you definitely shouldn’t have.

author's note. i woke up one morning having this concept in mind. the boy is mine by ariana grande is on repeat the entire time im writing this piece. i think it's fun and fitted to publish for yoongi's birthday. a little late but still a sweet treat for everyone! 𖹭

dedicating this to my forever starboy, yoongi ★

You carefully open the trunk of the black SUV parked in front of your house while Jungkook, your best friend, helps you with your luggage that seemed heavy enough to be carrying a dead body. 

Used to how he likes to run his mouth when it comes to you, you completely ignore his sharp antics as he rearranges the pile of suitcases like Tetris blocks, making sure nothing will topple over during the trip.

“The hell shit are you carrying for a three-day beach trip?” Jungkook asked, catching his breath as he closed the trunk.

In your mind, you’re convinced it’s still too early to start bickering over nonsense, so you just simply raised your hand in the air for a high five, which he immediately accepted—a gesture that no matter what the situation is, you know by heart that Jungkook will never turn down.

As you walk toward the other car where your brother was in, Jungkook begins complaining again. Saying it’s unfair that your ridiculously heavy suitcase is riding in his brother’s car while you get to travel in Seokjin’s car with your brother.

The next thing you knew, he was already dragging you with him.

Jungkook has been your best friend for almost fifteen years now. He is the same age as you, and the two of you attended the same middle school, high school, and even the same college.

He is the younger half-brother of your brother’s best friend of more than fifteen years, Yoongi. Since both of your brothers are simply inseparable, the two of you are basically forced to hang out with each other when you’re young and you’ve been best friends since.

You and Jungkook may seem to squabble and banter all the time, but it’s just the way your friendship works. The level of your closeness can be compared to siblings.

People are always surprised when they’re finding out that the two of you are just friends. They’re always insisting that you would make the perfect couple since you’re about the same age and very close.

But the thought of being in a romantic relationship with Jungkook makes your skin crawl for two main reasons.

First, Jungkook is a known fuckboy who enjoys casual relationships with different girls, sometimes at once and seems almost allergic to anything serious or stable.

Second—and more importantly—you have secret romantic feelings for his brother, who is four years older than you. You’ve liked him since high school, and unfortunately for you, Jungkook knows about it. The only reason he keeps his mouth shut is because you threaten to cut ties with him the moment he tells anyone—especially his brother.

“Ready to go?” Yoongi asked from the driver’s seat before starting the car, following the silver SUV in front that belongs to Seokjin when all of you in the car hummed in response.

Hoseok, your older cousin—who is also part of your brother’s circle—sits in the passenger seat, while you and Jungkook occupy the back.

Hoseok starts a conversation over your recent breakup and tries to offer you some comfort while still keeping things light after hearing that your boyfriend of six months—now your ex-boyfriend—dumps you because he wants to “find himself.”

“I’m fine. It’s a good-riddance type of breakup, really. I don’t have enough energy to coddle his insecurities all the time—and I love pink way too much to be the man in the relationship,” you murmured, uninterested in the topic.

Everything you say is true.

The only thing hurting right now is your ego. This is the first time you’ve ever been dumped in your 26 years of existence. Not to be smug but you’re always used to guys doting over you.

You met your ex-boyfriend at the coffee shop across from your office. He happens to work around the same area. At first, you find him charming and cute—and he feels the same about you. That’s how the relationship started.

But eventually, you realized he is incredibly insecure. He constantly projects his lack of confidence onto you and always assumes you’re flirting with your coworkers behind his back. The only reason you lasted six months with him is because the sex was good.

As someone with absolutely zero patience for childish and immature behavior, it’s hard for you to understand where his insecurities are coming from. Thankfully, he ended things before you did.

Meanwhile, everyone around you—especially your brother Namjoon—is convinced you’re secretly depressed because of the breakup. That is also the reason why you’re currently in this car, following the SUV ahead carrying Seokjin, your brother, Seokjin’s brother Taehyung, and his best friend Jimin.

This three-day trip is supposed to be a celebration—Seokjin’s bachelor party.

He is a year older than Yoongi and older than the rest of the guys. With the wedding happening next week, and after more than fifteen years of friendship, it’s only natural that your brother and his friends are all part of this trip.

“Besides, me and your brother never really liked your ex-boyfriend, Y/N,” Hoseok confessed, still trying to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, me too. He’s weird,” Jungkook agrees from beside you, barely looking up from his phone. “I told you to stop dating guys your age.”

That comment immediately sparks curiosity from the two older guys sitting in front.

“You like younger ones?” Hoseok gasped a little over dramatic, turning slightly in his seat to look back at you.

“No—”

“She likes OLDER,” Jungkook cuts in before you can reason out for yourself, emphasizing the word, older.

You tugged his hair in annoyance, making him hiss in pain. Shooting you a glare while rubbing the spot you pulled.

Your eyes unknowingly drift toward the rearview mirror—and that’s when you catch Yoongi’s gaze on you.

He glances at the mirror, meeting your eyes for a brief second before looking back at the road. The eye contact is quick, but it still makes your cheeks warm.

“Really? I didn’t know that,” Hoseok replied, amused with your preferences in guys.

“That’s because I don’t tell anyone.”

“About how old?”

“Umm… maybe four or five years, ah yes around that age gap” you answered your cousin as innocently as possible making sure to let Yoongi hear.

And you swear to God—you see the faintest smirk tug at Yoongi’s lips as you answer.

His subtle reaction sends a strange wave of nervous energy through your body, making you involuntarily press your thighs together as a jittery feeling settles deep in your stomach.

The car ride took almost three hours. You and Jungkook are drifting in and out of sleep in the back seat while the two older guys in front talk about random things the entire time.

Once the car is finally parked, Jungkook and Hoseok immediately start unloading the luggage, handing each suitcase over to its rightful owner. After making sure everything is out of the trunk and the car is safely locked, the group begins walking toward the resort and hotel Seokjin has booked.

While checking in, you keep bugging Jungkook about how hungry you are—and how ridiculously heavy your suitcase is—suggesting he should carry yours, earning several death glares from him.

Jimin and Taehyung soon joined the two of you while the older guys stayed behind to settle everything at the front desk.

Just like with Jungkook, you are completely comfortable with Jimin and Taehyung. They are both a year older than you. Taehyung is Seokjin’s younger brother, while Jimin is his best friend.

Back in high school, Jimin and Jungkook are both part of the dance club, and later he attends the same college as the two of you. He even shares a few classes with Jungkook, which makes your group naturally close and easy with each other.

Once checked in, everyone is sent to their assigned rooms. Seokjin makes sure to book them all on the same floor.

Namjoon and Hoseok share a room. Jungkook and Yoongi share another. Jimin and Taehyung are assigned their shared room as well.

Meanwhile, you and Seokjin each get separate rooms since you don’t have company with you.

Having a suite by yourself excites you, but there is one small issue—it’s a little farther away from the rest of the guys. While their suites are clustered together, yours sits at the far corner after turning left into a quieter hallway.

Before everyone part ways, Seokjin reminds the group that the yacht party will start at twelve, which also means lunch will be served there.

His friends really go all out for his bachelor’s party, renting a yacht for twelve hours starting at noon just for him.

You honestly have no idea what to expect. It’s your first time attending a bachelor’s party, after all.

Still, you convince yourself that nothing too inappropriate will happen, considering the people involved. Even though you are well aware that your brother’s friends are far from saints, you are also confident they’re not reckless either.

While getting ready for the yacht party, your hair dryer suddenly stopped working in the middle of styling your hair. Your suite has a built-in one but it’s the traditional hair blower that uses heat—yours is the heatless one, to prevent further damage on your ginger-colored hair that you’ve been maintaining for months now.

Annoyed, you grab your phone from the sink counter and text Jungkook, remembering that he uses the same one as yours.

You leave your room, dragging your half-open suitcase along the carpeted hallway on the way to Jungkook and Yoongi’s. Thankfully, you haven’t unpacked your suitcase yet, which makes it easier to bring the whole thing with you since you’re not even halfway done getting ready.

When Yoongi opens the door after you knock, the first thing you notice is his frowning face as he takes in the sight of you standing there in nothing but a bathrobe, hauling your huge suitcase.

“Uh… Jungkook’s there?” you asked when he doesn’t immediately let you in.

Without a word, Yoongi steps aside to give you space, and you walk in like you own the place. Meanwhile, before closing the door, he briefly looks down the hallway to make sure you aren’t being followed by anyone who might have seen you wandering around in just a bathrobe. Luckily, the corridor is empty.

As expected, Jungkook immediately starts bitching about you dragging your whole suitcase in their room. You just ignored him after reasoning out that it’s simply more convenient to finish getting ready in their suite instead of drying your hair here and then walking all the way back to your place afterward.

With three people sharing one bathroom, the process takes longer than expected. The delay eventually causes Seokjin to call Yoongi, asking where the hell everyone is.

As you fastened the large ivory ribbon around your half-ponytail, the two brothers kept calling your name relentlessly from outside the bathroom.

You stepped out with an annoyed expression, irritated at being rushed when you weren’t even fully satisfied with your appearance.

The moment you emerge from the bathroom, both men fall completely silent, eyes wandering on your fit.

You’re wearing an off-white ruffled bralette top with thin straps that hug your perfectly shaped breasts snugly, creating a soft cleavage. Paired with it is a long, flowy, tiered skirt in the same color, made of multiple soft ruffled layers that move gently as you walk. Underneath, you’re wearing plain white bikini bottoms in case you decide to swim later.

It’s moments like this that makes Jungkook wish he isn’t your best friend because you are completely his type and he will definitely hit on you.

If you weren’t always so open about how you feel absolutely nothing romantic toward him, he would probably risk everything just to get you into bed with him.

Meanwhile, Yoongi, even without an obvious reaction showing, couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Lunch is served on the yacht before the party officially begins. After eating, you hang out with the younglings—Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung on the lower deck while they roughhouse with each other like a bunch of overgrown kids.

A few hours after lunch, Seokjin’s bachelor party finally kicks off.

You’re a little surprised when a group of pretty ladies—dressed sexy but still appropriate—board the yacht just before it sails out to the open sea.

You soon learn that they are your brother’s present for Seokjin. They’re entertainers hired to keep the bachelor and his friends company.

It doesn’t take long for the yacht to be filled with loud music, laughter, and the chaotic energy of a group of men with raging hormones. Alcohol flows freely, and everyone is paired up with a pretty girl as a company.

You managed to slip away and choose to settle on the higher part of the deck alone, watching the party unfold below you like a scene from a movie.

Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung are long gone the moment the party started. They abandoned you without hesitation in exchange for the full bachelor-party experience. You cannot blame the guys and their hormones though.

You pulled out your phone and secretly recorded a video of Jungkook with a girl sitting comfortably on his lap while he flirts with her in a semi-drunken, delirious way. You make a mental note to use the video against him for later.

Your eyes eventually land on a familiar figure lingering near the edge of the lower deck.

Yoongi.

He stands quietly as he watches his friends party like crazy, slowly sipping his whiskey on the rocks.

You watch as he lazily twirls the glass in his hand, allowing the ice to melt just enough before taking another sip. There’s something about him that makes your breath hitch, the kind of presence that leaves you helplessly captivated by him and to every little thing he does.

A brunette, honey-skinned girl with stunning proportions stands nearby, keeping him company. They talk at a polite distance from each other, and every now and then you see Yoongi chuckle, wondering what could it be that she said to make him respond like that.

What really amuses you, though, is the complete lack of physical contact between them. In the middle of a bachelor party filled with flirting, drinking, and chaos, Yoongi looks like the most respectful man on the entire boat. The awkward sight between him and his companion makes you giggle by yourself.

You know Yoongi is stern with his boundaries, he isn’t fond of people in his space. During the time that he’s in a relationship with someone, his PDA is only limited to holding hands and grabbing waist.

But that alone isn’t enough to make you question his demeanor in bed, especially since you remember one of his ex-girlfriends drunkenly sharing intimate details about their time together with Yoongi to both you and Jungkook, making you want to experience it on your own.

Growing up, you watch Yoongi grow up too. For fifteen years, he and your brother are practically inseparable, which means you see him almost every day as well.

Over the years, you witness a few of his unsuccessful relationships. His last one lasted three years, and at one point you’re convinced he’s going to propose to her any day—until Jungkook casually told you that his brother ended things with his girlfriend.

That happened two years ago.

Since then, as far as you know, Yoongi hasn’t been with anyone. For two whole years.

For a long time, you assume it’s because he isn’t over his ex yet. But thanks to Jungkook’s constant reassurance that his brother is simply too busy with his job as a music producer. That makes you allow yourself to hold onto a quiet, ridiculous hope.

Maybe—just maybe—you still have a chance with the man who is four years older than you.

Eventually, the bachelor party winds down.

You spend the entire evening on the upper deck while the guys party below, thanks to the magazines stacked on the center table that kept you entertained.

When you finally check on them, the sight is disastrous. Everyone is completely wasted.

Taehyung and Hoseok are literally crawling across the floor. Seokjin drifts in and out of drunken sleep. Your brother looks only minutes away from passing out completely, and Jungkook is wandering around looking for you for some unknown reason, drooling slightly while muttering incoherent nonsense.

Yoongi is the only one who still seems remotely normal.

You have no idea how he managed to get all five men back to their hotel rooms easily. Meanwhile, you are stuck dragging Jungkook’s heavy, half-conscious body from the elevator to the suite he shares with Yoongi, and you feel like you might die halfway through the hallway.

Yoongi holds the door open for you as you guide Jungkook toward his bed.

Miraculously, the moment Jungkook reaches the room, he seems to regain a bit of consciousness. Without saying a word, he stumbles straight into the bathroom to take a shower.

You take that as your cue to leave.

After saying goodbye to Yoongi, you drag your heavy suitcase—the same one you brought into their suite earlier—back down the hallway toward your own room.

A few minutes after you leave, Jungkook steps out of the shower—still half-drunk—and makes his way to Jimin and Taehyung’s room.

Yoongi is left alone.

He’s about to set up his laptop and a few basic pieces of music equipment when his stomach growls in protest.

Rather than ordering room service, he decided to head down to the convenience store on the ground floor of the hotel.

As the elevator doors slide open, his eyes immediately land on you.

You’re standing near the front desk with your suitcase beside you, looking distraught and on the verge of tears. A staff member is speaking to you apologetically while a man stands nearby, clearly involved in the situation. In your hand, your phone is pressed to your ear as you attempt to call your brother, Namjoon.

“What happened?” Your head snapped on your side when Yoongi approached, placing an arm around your shoulders. His voice is calm, but his eyes are fixed on the receptionist, demanding for an explanation.

The staff quickly explains the situation.

When Seokjin booked the hotel rooms, the reservation system had been experiencing a major glitch. Because of it, your room had been double-booked. The man standing across from you had actually reserved the room weeks before Seokjin made the booking.

The staff members are deeply apologetic. They promised a full refund on your room and offered a fifty percent discount on all the rooms under Seokjin’s name as compensation.

Ordinarily, transferring you to another room would have solved the problem immediately, but luck isn’t on your side tonight.

Unfortunately, the entire hotel is fully booked—there isn’t a single spare room available.

The receptionist then offers an alternative, a complimentary stay at their sister hotel located about ten minutes away. Desperate and exhausted, you quickly accepted the offer.

Yoongi, however, reacts very differently.

“No,” he responded flatly while looking at the receptionist.

The single word is firm, almost cutting, as if the suggestion itself is ridiculous. Before the staff can say anything further, he simply adds, “We’ll figure it out,” and gently but decisively guides you away from the desk.

When you ask why he refused the offer, Yoongi only shrugs lightly.

“It’s not safe,” he explained. “Your brother will lose it in the morning if he finds out you moved to a different hotel.”

When the elevator returns to your floor, the two of you spend nearly an hour knocking on doors and ringing the phones of every one of the guys.

Too bad, everyone was far too drunk to hear anything. Not a single door opens.

With a quiet long sigh, Yoongi finally turns to you and offers the only solution left.

“You can stay in my room,” he mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek. “Jungkook’s in Jimin and Taehyung’s room anyway. He’s probably passed out with them by now.”

For you, it isn’t really a big deal.

You’ve shared space with Yoongi countless times before—just the two of you alone. Whenever your brother leaves the two of you in the living room while he steps out, or when you end up cleaning the aftermath of one of your or Namjoon’s birthday parties together, it has always felt normal.

Comfortable, familiar, but this time feels different.

Maybe it’s because Yoongi quietly insists on carrying your heavy suitcase. Or maybe it’s because, without saying much, he slips off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders when he notices that you’re still wearing your yacht outfit—one that leaves more skin exposed than the chilly hallway allows.

Whatever the reason is, something about this moment feels unfamiliar in a way the two of you have never experienced before.

The distance between your eyebrows slowly disappears when Yoongi tells you to sleep on the floor using the extra mattress and thick comforter he had just requested through room service.

For a moment, you had almost convinced yourself that tonight might turn into something special. After all, you are spending the night with your long-time secret crush.

That hopeful thought fades quickly when he casually reminds you that he is not much of an affectionate person and you’re not an exception for it.

An internal battle immediately begins in your mind—whether to protest or simply accept his rather cold offer. But the answer becomes clear just as quickly.

Yoongi is not Jungkook. You cannot act bratty toward him the way you do with your best friend. Yoongi, you’re certain, would not hesitate to throw you out of the room in the middle of the night if you pushed too far.

So you swallow your complaints.

After fixing your sleeping arrangement on the floor—though not without a bit of sulking—you pull a few things from your suitcase and head toward the bathroom.

You take a quick shower and go through your skincare routine, but halfway through it your stomach begins to growl with hunger. You are far too sleepy and tired to eat a full meal, but luckily you notice a bar of chocolate wrapped in a fancy red wrapper tucked among Jungkook and Yoongi’s skincare products on the counter.

Thinking that it’s just another snack Jungkook likes to stash somewhere in his things,  you open the chocolate and begin munching while continuing your routine.

Halfway through the bar, your sugar craving already feels satisfied. You neatly place the remaining bar at the far corner of the sink counter.

After brushing your teeth, you slip into your pair of black satin pajamas—soft and comfortably loose.

When you step out of the bathroom, the suite lights are already dimmed.

Yoongi is sitting on the far side of the room, his back partially turned toward you as he works on his laptop. A pair of headphones rests over his ears, and the glow of the screen illuminates the sharp lines of his face.

Yoongi has always had a deep passion for music. Both he and your cousin Hoseok often stay over at your house late into the night, working alongside your brother. Namjoon frequently helps consult their lyrics, given that he is a writer and currently works as the editor-in-chief of a large publishing company.

You have always found yourself mesmerized every time Yoongi was in his element.

Tonight’s not an exception, even after he dismissed you to sleep on the floor while he enjoys the luxury of the huge, comfortable bed.

You scoffed silently at your own thoughts before settling into the soft comforter on your tiny makeshift bed, scrolling through your phone.

A few minutes passed, and you noticed something strange. Your heart rate begins to climb slowly for no clear reason. You lower your phone and stare up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what is causing the sudden flutter in your chest. 

Instead, you just become aware of the faint beads of sweat forming along your forehead and the delicate line of your neck, trailing toward your collarbone. You feel hot even though the suite’s air conditioner is blasting.

You try to ignore the weird discomfort and decide to focus on falling asleep.

But no matter how hard you try to relax, you keep getting distracted by how warm your body feels. Without even realizing it, you even push the comforter away from your body in an attempt to cool down.

The strange feeling doesn’t fade. If anything, it only grows stronger.

You begin tossing and turning restlessly, unaware of how much the movement is starting to distract Yoongi from arranging the synth on the track he’s working on.

Fed up by distress in your body, you sit up abruptly and head straight for the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, you study your reflection. Your skin looks unusually flushed. You cup your face in both hands, surprised by how warm it feels. Your cheeks are deeply tinted red, your eyes glossy, and in a strange way your entire complexion seems to glow.

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on what exactly is happening to your body.

The warmth continues to build low in your abdomen, spreading through you in a way that makes your breath catch. You bite your lower lip as you feel a sudden, undeniable awareness of your own body.

A quiet gasp escapes you when the realization hits—you are aroused.

You squeeze your thighs together once you're certain of the wetness settling on the thin fabric of your underwear. Of all the times you get to be horny, it has to be tonight—when the only other person in the suite is Yoongi.

You pondered for a moment if you’re entering your ovulation phase but being the person you are, you don't usually track those kinds of things.

Brushing off the weird timing of your arousal, you return to the small mattress on the floor beside the queen-sized bed and attempt once again to sleep.

But you really couldn’t.

Your heartbeat continues to race, your body growing extremely warmer by the second, you’re almost panting. The sensation becomes increasingly overwhelming until your breathing grows heavier, slower, deeper.

Your legs pressed tightly together, afraid you might start grinding against nothing without meaning to. Your thoughts spiral with deep urge, and it feels as though you might completely lose control of yourself at any moment.

After several more tossing and turning, you stood up again and made your way to the bathroom for the second time.

You convince yourself that perhaps you simply need to pee—that maybe doing so will help you feel better. You focus entirely on that thought, hoping it will calm the storm raging inside you.

Meanwhile, Yoongi hears everything.

Every restless shift, uneven breaths, every small shuffle across the floor during the last twenty minutes.

At first he tries to ignore it, but eventually curiosity begins to creep in.

The suite is quiet enough that he can hear the faint sound of your muffled sniffing partnered with heavy huffing sounds of your exhales from the bathroom. A knot of worry tightens in his chest.

For a moment, he wonders if you absolutely hated sleeping on the floor—you started crying.

The second you step out of the bathroom, Yoongi closes his laptop and turns toward you.

“Y/N, you okay?” he asked, his eyes carefully studying you.

You stop just outside the bathroom door, caught completely off guard by him suddenly paying attention to you. Not knowing how to answer, you simply stand there, staring back at him in silence contemplating whether to share your non-problem with him.

Even in the dim lighting, Yoongi immediately notices that something is off.

He can see how flushed your cheeks are, the gloss in your eyes, the sweat on your forehead that’s dampening your baby hairs.

With genuine concern, he rises from his seat and walks toward you.

Without hesitation, he lifts the back of his hand to your forehead to check your temperature. Then after, both of his large hands move to cup the sides of your neck, feeling for any sign of a fever.

The contact makes you bite down on your lower lip as you are forced to meet his eyes.

Yoongi is much taller than you, which means you have to tilt your head upward to look at him. The position gives him the perfect opportunity to study your face more closely.

Now he notices everything more.

Your doe eyes, redness creeping on your eyeline, lashes fluttering softly in a way that feels almost unintentionally sexy. The deep crimson blush stained across your cheeks. And your lips—looking so soft, slightly parted, and impossibly full.

For the first time that night, Yoongi finds himself momentarily fazed.

You have no idea where the sudden boldness comes from, but when Yoongi asks if you’re okay, you find yourself reaching for one of the hands resting against your neck. Fingers slowly intertwine with his, holding on as if he is the only steady thing in the room.

“Yoongi… can you help me… please?” you whispered. Your voice is soft—so quiet that he almost doesn’t catch it the first time.

For a few seconds, Yoongi just simply stares at you.

It takes him a moment to process what you’ve said, his attention momentarily distracted by how sultry your voice sounds, making him wonder if you always talk like this.

Then something seemed to click in his brain. The familiarity of the signs you’re showing.

Yoongi abruptly pulls away and strides into the bathroom in a rush, catching you in surprise.

His eyes scan the large vanity countertop until they land on the half-eaten chocolate bar you had been snacking on earlier.

He stopped for a moment as if frozen. You watch his eyes widen slightly and his mouth slowly forms a small O as the realization sinks in.

“You ate this?” he was frowning when he asked.

Clueless and confused, you nod silently.

“But why?” he pressed again, his tone sharper now—almost accusatory, laced with disbelief, like you did something very stupid.

Your brows knit together by how small you feel right now.

“God forbid, I was hungry. Are you really upset that I ate your chocolate?” you spat, running a hand through your hair.

“Except it’s not just chocolate,” he responded, almost cutting you off. “This isn’t ordinary chocolate. It’s an aphrodisiac. Hoseok bought it as a prank gift for Jin-hyung’s party.”

Now it’s your turn to be dumbfounded.

The heat in your body seems to intensify all at once, spreading through you so strongly that it feels like you’re gonna pass out at any moment.

You quickly snatch the sweet treat from Yoongi’s hand, scanning the packaging.

The moment you confirm what it is, your stomach drops.

Your knees gave out, and you dramatically sank down onto the floor, suddenly wanting to cry from how overwhelming and embarrassing everything feels.

You don’t miss the part on the label explaining that the sweets can cause an intense increase in libido depending on how much is consumed.

And considering that the bar is nearly gone, it explains exactly why you feel like humping everything around like a dog in-heat.

Yoongi’s expression becomes soft, crouching down to help you back to your feet. He guides you gently toward the bed and sits you down, his actions more sympathetic than anything else.

From how warm your skin feels under his touch, he can only imagine how strange this must feel for you.

“What should I do, Yoongi? Should I go to the hospital?” you dreaded, your eyes pleading as you looked straight at him.

“You just have to let it pass,” he crooned.

He remains standing beside the bed, watching you as you roll your eyes at him.

“Ugh! I wish Jungkook were the one here with me right now.”

Yoongi’s brows immediately furrow at that.

For a brief moment, he wonders if you’re actually suggesting doing something far more intimate with his younger brother given your current state.

“I feel so hot… and weird… and—ugh! This is starting to frustrate me!” you groaned, fanning your face with both hands.

Realizing he’s likely going to be stuck dealing with this situation for the rest of the night, Yoongi suggested grabbing some ice cream from the convenience store downstairs with a heavy sigh.

Desperate for anything that might cool you down, you eagerly agreed.

A few minutes later, you’re standing in front of the freezer, examining the different flavors of mochi ice cream available.

Just as you’re deciding which one to get, the man who had originally booked your hotel room, the man who was just with you at the front desk earlier, approaches once he sees you, a couple of beers in his hand.

He apologizes once more for the mix-up, though you quickly reassure him that it wasn’t his fault.

He then followed to ask if you managed to find somewhere to stay for the night. You happily tell him that you did.

Not too far away, Yoongi stands at a distance, watching the interaction.

From where he’s standing, it’s painfully obvious that the guy is trying to flirt with you.

And when Yoongi overhears him inviting you to come hang out in his suite—to watch a movie with a few of his friends—his patience finally runs thin.

Without a word, he walks over, takes the mochi ice cream from your hand, and gently but firmly pulls you along toward the cashier.

By the time you step outside the store together, the stranger is already forgotten.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Yoongi exclaimed, eyebrows knitting together.

You glance at him, irritated and confused.

“What did I do this time?”

“Really?” he says incredulously. “You were actually considering going with a stranger for a ‘movie night’ just because you’re feeling horny right now?”

You choked slightly at how casually he said those words.

Immediately, you smack his arm lightly while glancing around nervously to make sure no one overheard him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you whispered sharply. “What if someone heard you and thinks I’m actually horny?!”

“Are you not?” he taunted with a smug little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shoved him lightly again, even more annoyed this time.

Without another word, you marched ahead toward the suite, leaving him behind.

But as you walk away, you hear him chuckle softly.

When the two of you returned to the hotel suite, Yoongi immediately settled back in front of his laptop and resumed working, quietly eating his ice cream. He leaves you to yourself—and to your problem that’s still simmering deep inside your body.

You end up lying across his bed, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Yoongi notices, but says nothing. He is fairly certain that the last thing you’ll be doing right now is sleep.

You are hoping that the weird sensation coursing through you would fade soon.

Instead, it grows worse.

Much worse.

Your body turns unbearably sensitive, every nerve suddenly heightened. There is an irritating restlessness beneath your skin—a persistent itch you cannot seem to satisfy no matter how hard you try to ignore it.

A dull ache begins forming low in your abdomen once more, as though you are holding something back that desperately wants to be released.

Without even realizing it, you begin practicing controlled breathing—slow, deliberate inhales followed by steady exhales—trying to clear your mind and calm the relentless pounding of your heart.

The thought of touching yourself creeps quietly into your mind.

You glance toward Yoongi, considering to straddle on his lap and begin to hump him until you’re satisfied.

You cursed yourself with your dirty thoughts.

He probably wouldn’t mind if you slipped into the bathroom for a moment… right?

Letting out a deep sigh, you grab your phone and attempt to call Jungkook again, hoping desperately that he might finally answer and somehow rescue you from this miserable situation.

But the line rings unanswered.

Across the room, Yoongi is having his own struggle.

For the past fifteen minutes, his eyes have been fixed on his laptop screen, but his mind has been anywhere but on his work. Your constant shifting on the bed, the soft rustling of sheets, and the occasional frustrated grunt escaping your lips make it nearly impossible for him to concentrate.

Eventually, he exhales heavily and shuts the laptop completely this time.

He stood up, stretching his arms briefly before walking over to the bed.

From where he stands beside it, he looks down at you—clearly taking in the rather pitiful state you’re in.

“Go back to your bed,” he said flatly. “I’m going to sleep now.”

He spares you a quick glance before looking away, his attention drifting somewhere else around the room.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even answer.

Instead, you remained sprawled across the center of the queen-sized bed, gazing up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Your lashes flutter slowly, your lips slightly parted as you continue trying to regulate your breathing. Your chest rises and falls unevenly, your skin still flushed with warmth.

So fucking arousing.

“Aish… hurry up!” he groans under his breath, attempting to sound annoyed—though it doesn’t quite land the way he intends.

Just by looking at you, he already knows you’re not planning to budge.

He was slightly surprised when you suddenly raises your hand toward him, the gesture resembling a silent request to help you stand up.

With a faint frown, he reaches out and takes your hand, offering a help.

But you have something entirely different in mind.

Using the last bit of strength you have left, you suddenly tug him forward instead. He stumbles toward you in surprise, and in one swift motion your free hand grips the collar of his shirt.

Caught completely off guard, Yoongi loses his balance as he falls forward over you.

His reflexes are quick enough for him to brace his arms on either side of your head before his full weight can land on you. Still, the lower half of his body collides lightly with yours, pressing down just enough to draw a soft whimper from your lips at the unexpected contact.

“The fuck you’re doing, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low, breathing ragged, and slightly surprised.

His heart began to pound, brain couldn’t function properly as much.

You hold his gaze without any trace of backing down.

Slowly, your arms slide around his neck, preventing him from easily pulling away if he tries.

“Can you help me just this once, Yoongi?” you muttered, your eyes pleading with unmistakable desperation.

Yoongi wanted to say something back but he couldn’t, completely distracted by how you say his name just now, so sultry, it almost sounded like a moan.

Before he can protest, you lift your head from the pillow and press your lips against his.

The kiss is gentle. Your soft lips move against his with careful curiosity, exploring slowly. You nibble lightly at his lower lip, tugging at it before your tongue brushes against his mouth in a timid invitation.

It is tender. Careful. Almost hesitant.

Realizing that Yoongi wasn’t responding at all, a wave of shame crashes over you.

Your mind immediately spirals, overthinking the worst conclusions.

You should stop. You should pull away before you embarrass yourself any further.

Reluctantly, you begin to withdraw, your lips leaving his. Your eyes sting slightly as the weight of the moment settles in your chest. Your arms loosen from around his neck.

When you open your eyes again, you find Yoongi staring directly at you.

His gaze is fixed—intense, almost analytical—as if he’s studying you and waiting to see what you’ll do next.

Shock is written plainly across his face.

He hasn’t moved. He hasn’t said a word.

The silence is eating you alive.

“I—”

You tried to speak but was cut off when his hand suddenly slid to the back of your neck.

In one swift motion, he pulls you closer, crashing his lips against yours.

This time, the kiss is bold, craving, hungry, no trace of hesitation.

Your lips move against each other with growing urgency, your breaths mingling between them. His kiss is confident, consuming, and when his lips press firmly against yours, tiny whimpers of pleasure escape your mouth without permission.

His tongue prod your lips, demanding for an entrance instead of asking. He is using his mouth skillfully to devour you, waking up a much more intense desire.

His mouth slowly maneuvers over your jaw, placing wet kisses on your soft skin as you angle your head to give him more access. He traces your skin with his tongue while nibbling on your ears, swiping over the sensitive spots of your lobes.

“Yes, just like that.” You moaned, your hands wrapping in his locks, tugging at it softly while you’re getting drunk by the tingling feeling poking on your spine.

“You sure ‘bout this?” he whispered against your skin, asking for your permission.

The feeling of his mouth exploring your body, combined with the subtle weight of him hovering over you, tickles something deep in your brain. All you can do is moan in response and nod repeatedly, desperate for him to continue.

Your hands slide under his shirt, slowly drawing circles on his softly toned stomach as you savor the sensation of his mouth working against your neck—sucking on your supple skin until it leaves dark purple marks.

Every time his tongue circles a spot he’s marked, easing the sharp sting from sucking too hard, it feels like you’re getting drunk.

You involuntarily started grinding underneath his body, making sure to rub your core against his growing bulge— earning deep quiet groans from him.

As his mouth is busy leaving marks and love bites on your neck, his hands work on your pajamas, hastily unbuttoning them one by one until your plump, full breasts are freed. He left your neck for a while to adore your delicate body.

“So fucking sexy,” before thinking, the words already slipped out of his mouth.

He claimed your lips once again, passionate like the first time. When his fingers grazed the edge of your pants, your breath hitched, mouth slightly parted. He took it as an opportunity to swirl his tongue all over yours.

You lifted your hips slightly as he deliberately pulled down your pajamas with your panties all at once, making it easier to be discarded.

His hands were rough against your soft skin, the coldness of the steel from his rings touches your delicate thighs giving a thrill of excitement.

Once you’re fully naked underneath him, Yoongi propped himself up, hurriedly taking off his shirt and pants while looking at you. Eyes wandering on your beautiful body.

You do exactly the same, heavy lidded eyes are focused on him while he undresses. Once he successfully discarded his boxers, you see his massive hard cock slightly swaying as it hangs out.

Absent-mindedly, you licked your lips at his size, drawing a smirk on Yoongi’s lips.

You folded your knees upward, thighs slightly apart, giving him a good angle of your leaking hole.

Yoongi stares intently at you, cursing himself repeatedly in his head as he realizes his best friend’s sister is completely naked in front of him.

When you notice Yoongi staring at you for too long, a worry crosses your chest—thinking he changed his mind, that he might not be up for it after all.

You rose, kneeling on the bed, as you sat on them.

He just stands there, contemplating, his knees brushing the edge of the bed while his hand slowly strokes his cock, eyes locked on you.

“There’s still chocolate left, if you need it,” you murmured softly, your voice teasing slightly to mask the sudden awkwardness.

“H-huh?” he asked, as if he didn’t hear you the first time.

“I said, there’s still chocolate left,” you repeated. “You know, in case you needed help,” you continued.

Yoongi scoffed at your words. “I don’t need help, Y/N. I’m already painfully hard, as you can see,” he teased.

Your gaze drops to his cock as he continues stroking it slowly.

“Then why aren’t you touching me? Second guessing?” you pressed again, bold and direct, though the softness in your voice betrays a hint of worry that he might be having second thoughts.

“No, baby,” he cooed, his free hand moving to the side of your cheek, gently tracing your skin.

Your stomach flutters at the nickname.

Gathering enough courage, you slowly reach for his throbbing cock.

“Can I?” you asked for permission. He nods.

You bring your palm to your mouth, spit on it, then gently wrap your hand around him, spreading your saliva so your grip glides smoothly. Using your thumb, you carefully collect the precum leaking at his tip and spread it over his plush mushroom head.

You notice his hand, which had been caressing your cheek, drop to his side. His head falls back, eyes closing, mouth slightly parted, breath growing heavy—clear signs he enjoys what you’re doing.

You continue stroking him, feeling the friction of his shaft against your soft palms, tracing every angry vein, sending shivers up your spine.

Bringing your mouth close to his throbbing head, you spit on it again, then press your tongue flat to his tip, tasting the salty precum as you gently suck on it. When you release his head, it makes a nice popping sound, followed by a deep grunt from Yoongi.

You glance at him, checking if it hurts, but all you see is pure pleasure on his face.

You flatten your tongue and lick a slow stripe from base to head, then you flick your tongue over his tip once more, swirling it on his slit before going back to his base, placing soft kisses all over his balls then for the second time, licking a slow stripe from the base to his tip. Tongue wet and warm, your nose grazing the skin of his length.

“Fucking hell…” Yoongi let out a throaty curse, drunk and breathless.

Yoongi cups your jaw with one hand, taking his cock in the other, giving it a few shallow strokes before gliding the tip along your lips, teasing you.

“Fuck, Y/N, your brother’s gonna kill me,” he murmured, eyes fixed on his tip swirling along your plumped lips.

A soft grin tugs at your lips as you look up at him, making sure to flutter your lashes a little sexier.

“But hell, you’re so attractive right now, it feels like a sin not to touch you,” he continued, his voice deep and low, the kind that makes girls go crazy over with.

His hand leaves your jaw and grips your hair in a makeshift ponytail.

“I’ll just deal with your him later,” he whispered, lightly slapping his cock against your face.

“Mhmm, open up for me, baby.”

It’s not a request—it’s an order you willingly follow.

Yoongi shoves his massive, aching cock inside your mouth, broken curses slipping from his lips. His hand in your hair provides support as he continues to push himself.

Another delicious moan escapes his lips once his tip touches the back of your throat. Thanks to your nonexistent gag reflex, Yoongi feels like he’s floating in euphoria.

Your eyes start to water from how full your mouth is, your jaw aching from the stretch, yet there’s still part of him that can’t fit entirely.

Just his size alone is enough to make you wet. Yoongi is thick rather than long, but you still estimated he’s almost six inches with a fat girth.

A sudden memory flashes—the first time you touched yourself back in high school, imagining it was him, losing count of how many times you moaned his name.

Back in reality, you place your hand on his hips and take over. Slowly, bobbing your head, taking his cock in and out of your mouth, your free hand is pumping the remaining of his length.

Drool dipping down your chin as you take him further down, hollowing your cheeks, pace increasing but consistent.

Yoongi couldn’t help but to watch you take his cock, plump lips stretched obscenely wide around his girth, eyes glossy, and looking so fucking pretty while giving him the best blowjob of his life.

You notice his grip on your hair tightening—you know he’s close. But to your surprise, Yoongi stops you. He says he doesn’t want to finish yet with just your mouth.

“Now lay down for me, baby.” he instructed, finally letting go of everything that’s restraining him.

“Damn, you’re so beautiful.”

The compliment was a slip, Yoongi is so mesmerized with you tonight, he seemed to forget how to act properly with a girl in bed.

You tried to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks, but it’s already too late.

“You know I’ll still let you fuck me tonight even without these flattering words, right?” you counter playfully.

Yoongi, who is hovering over you, looks directly into your eyes, his expression suddenly firm.

“I’m not the type to compliment girls just to get in their pants. We can just sleep now, and I’ll still think you’re beautiful when we wake up in the morning.”

Something about his words makes your stomach twist. A false hope begins to glimmer in your heart.

In the silence, your mind starts wondering if there might be a chance that Yoongi could like you romantically.

Your thoughts are instantly cut off when Yoongi starts sucking on your nipple while his free hand roughly massages the other, as if he has been craving it.

You let out a soft whimper, remembering how sensitive you are, and your body begins grinding against the pleasurable feeling.

Yoongi nips at the bud of your nipple, nibbles on the soft skin around it, and sucks on it hard enough to leave a mark—as if claiming what’s his.

While he is busy playing with your breasts, your hand swiftly moves in between your bodies until you find his cock. Slowly, you give it a few pumps before gliding it along the lips of your cunt, collecting your own arousal.

Yoongi jolts at the sudden contact, biting your skin a little too hard and making you hiss in pain.

The next thing you hear is his muffled curses as he buries his face into your heavy breasts.

You know now that gliding his tip along your leaking cunt makes his head spin, so you keep doing it until it starts feeling too much for you as well.

Both of you are panting from uncontrollable lust and arousal. Yoongi props himself up and kneels between your legs.

“Shit! I don’t have any spare condoms,” he realizes, frustration evident on his face.

Yoongi came to this bachelor’s party with no intention of getting laid, which is why he didn’t bother bringing condoms with him. And without having someone in his life for nearly two years, he never felt the need to keep one in his wallet.

“I—I got tested recently when I broke up with my ex, and I haven’t stopped taking my birth control,” you stated, slightly embarrassed by the sudden TMI.

“My last screening was almost two years ago,” he confessed, and you can see the hesitation and aching disappointment creeping into his expression.

“When was the last time you had sex?” you asked boldly in return, not really caring to know if he’s clean, you know he is, but deep down you just wanted to know if he has someone in his life recently, despite knowing he is single.

“Two years ago.”

His answer desperately lingers in your mind. You have no idea that Yoongi hasn’t been sexually active.

You tried not to overreact, but this is news to you.

Yoongi is a very attractive man—no one can deny that, especially since he decided to grow his hair long. Anyone who looks at him can tell he’s a decent man: well-spoken, a gentleman, and financially stable for his age.

He’s a highly sought-after producer in the industry, collaborating left and right with well-known artists. He has his own apartment and his own car.

A very eligible bachelor that could easily be getting different girls every night if he wanted.

“Fuck! I’ll drop by the convenience store real quick.” Yoongi is about to get off the bed, panic creeping into his voice as he noticed you haven’t responded.

You grab his hand, stopping him.

“Hey, I’m okay with it. You’re not going anywhere,” your voice speaks desperation.

“You sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured,” he replied, his voice soothing your nerves.

“Yoongi, please…”

“Please what, baby?”

A playful smirk is back on his face upon hearing your desperate pleas.

“I can’t wait anymore… mhmm want you inside me.”

There is a shift in the air. The sexual tension between you grows thicker with every passing second.

Yoongi positions himself back between your legs. He lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder while the other rested against his hip.

He takes his still-hard cock, giving it a few lazy pumps until precum leaks from the tip, then aligns himself to your entrance. He spits onto you, the saliva landing directly on your clit, then uses the tip of his cock to spread it along your cunt as added lubrication.

“Relax for me, baby.”

He massages your clit a few times with his long digits before suddenly dipping three fingers into your leaking hole, pumping it aggressively a few times making sure you are prepped. A sultry whimper escapes you, followed quickly by soft grunts of frustration when he pulls them out just as suddenly, leaving you craving more.

He slowly pushes his cock into your hole, giving you time to adjust.

His cock is so fat forcing your tight walls to stretch around him, snug, slippery, and tight. The mix of pain and pleasure makes you gasp for air, while he’s biting his lip to keep himself from slamming deeper too fast.

Broken curses and series of moans of repeated, ‘yes, yes, yes’ fill the quiet of the room, your whimpers are high and breathy, while his are low, deep, almost turning into desperate grunts.

“Just a little more,” he grunts against your ear.

Your nails are digging to the back of his shoulders as you can feel the drag of every vein of his cock along your velvety walls until his length is fully sheathed inside you.

Yoongi stopped momentarily so you can fully adjust to the stretch. Your breaths are heavy as you feel the thick pressure settling deep in your belly as if your body was being filled too full.

You can’t help but to clench around him repeatedly when you become aware of a swollen spot on your belly where his cock bulges from inside of you.

He gently presses on the spot, sending extreme pleasure to your core.

“Okay to fuck you now, baby?” he asked, cocky and proud.

After a few eager nods from you, Yoongi starts moving—deliberate and slow. He pulls halfway out before thrusting fully back inside with force.

He notices the pain registering on your face as he rams into you, so he brings his thumb back to your clit, pressing against it, making sure to hit the bundle of nerves while drawing slow circles to distract you from the discomfort.

When he sees your expression shift from pain to pleasure, he takes it as a sign to quicken his pace.

Your cunt releases more wetness while Yoongi continues to play with your clit, making it easier for his cock to glide in and out of your tight hole. A feeling that makes him curse himself for how good it was.

His slow, deep thrusts soon turn into shorter, faster ones.

Yoongi fucks you with intention—strong and brutal. His eyes remain fixed on you, watching you lose yourself as he drives into your cunt again and again.

His hands move to grope your breasts, which bounces deliciously in sync with his thrusts.

All you can do is moan beneath him, screaming his name over and over as both pain and pleasure take over your body.

Maybe it’s the aphrodisiac. Maybe it’s the feelings you’ve hidden for him for so long. Either way, this is the best sex of your life.

Yoongi shifts his position, bringing both your legs onto his hips as you automatically wrap them around him. He bends forward to kiss your lips while continuing to fuck you.

His movements remain relentless and steady, shoving himself fully inside you each time, giving you some of his weight whenever his pelvis meets the lips of your cunt.

“Oh my god! Oh god, oh god—right there! Yes! Yes!”

You cry out in pleasure when Yoongi begins hitting your g-spot. Your nails further claw down his back, making him hiss at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

Losing your mind is an understatement.

“Yoongi, I’m gonna come—oh fuck! Don’t stop,” you choked out as warmth pools in your lower abdomen.

“Yes, come for me, baby. You deserve it.”

A few more direct thrusts against your g-spot sends you over the edge.

Yoongi feels your walls tighten and pulse around his cock, followed by a rush of warm liquid spilling from your cunt as he continues thrusting deeply and slowly—still rubbing your overly sensitive clit while you ride out your orgasm.

As your peak begins to fade, Yoongi quickens his pace once again, chasing his own climax.

His hips snap fast and short with brutal force while his lips nip and bite at your neck.

You noticed how loud he’s getting, moaning your name repeatedly and muttering broken curses in between as his thrusts become sloppy and uneven—a clear sign he’s close.

“Can I come inside, baby?” he asked, almost pleading, his face buried in the crook of your neck, voice low and breathless.

“Yes…” you answered back without hesitation, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body.

“Y/N… baby…” he cooed between heavy breaths.

“Yes, Yoongi, yes… all you want.”

Yoongi cried out a long, guttural moan—the kind that made you squeeze your eyes shut because of how intensely arousing it sounds.

Still bucking his hips, you feel hot ropes of liquid shooting deep inside you. You also feel his teeth grazing the skin of your neck, careful enough not to hurt you but still sending delicious sensation through your body.

You absentmindedly bite your lower lip when you realize he’s coming more than the normal amount. His release begins spilling out of your cunt as he lazily keeps thrusting his spent cock, yet he still isn’t done.

It makes you wonder when was the last time he even touched himself.

A few moments later, Yoongi’s body fully collapses on top of you.

Your hand moves to the back of his head, slowly stroking his long hair as he keeps his face buried against your neck.

“Hell, did it really take me this long to risk everything for you?”

Yoongi’s words are clear—you’re sure you heard them right—but you still struggle to understand what he means.

You want to ask him. You want to know if there’s even the slightest chance that he likes you too.

But no words came out.

With his head resting near your chest, you wonder if he can hear how loudly your heart is beating right now.

The ray of sunlight hitting directly across your face slowly pulls you out from slumber. Your eyes flutter open, still heavy with exhaustion, and you attempt to shift your body away from the blinding light.

But a weight draped over your back makes it difficult to move.

Still half lost in the haze of the previous night, your mind slowly begins piecing things together. A heavy arm is wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close. At the same time, you become aware of a warm presence nestled against the back of your neck—steady breaths brushing softly against your skin.

Yoongi is spooning you from behind.

A small smile spreads across your lips. You have imagined something like this for years.

There has always been something about Yoongi that draws you to him—something quiet and magnetic that captured your attention long ago, back when you were still in high school, despite the age gap between you.

Through all your attempts to catch his attention over time, it is almost amusing that your brother, Namjoon, never once noticed that among all the people in his circle, you treated Yoongi differently.

Even while quietly admiring him from afar, you never stopped yourself from dating other people. Still, none of those relationships ever lasted very long.

Because, somewhere deep down, you have always been hoping for a chance with him.

And now, it is actually happening.

You feel Yoongi stir slightly behind you, his arm shifting just enough to loosen its hold. Taking the opportunity, you gently turn your body to face him.

“Good morning,” you greeted softly, smiling as you brush a few strands of his long bangs away from his face.

Instead of answering right away, Yoongi leans forward and presses a soft kiss against your forehead. Then another against the tip of your nose.

And finally, a brief peck on your lips.

Heat instantly rises to your cheeks.

“Feeling better now?” he asked with his bedroom voice, eyes still adjusting to the morning light filtering into the suite.

“Mhm,” you nod. Then, after a small pause, you add, “But I’m sore.”

A quiet chuckle escapes him.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” he murmured, pulling you a little closer against his chest.

Then quietly, “I’m not sure if I’ll still be able to hold you like this once I tell Namjoon what happened.”

You blink in surprise at his sudden openness.

Tilting your head slightly, you search his face.

“We don’t have to tell them what happened,” you suggested gently, hoping to ease whatever worry he might be feeling.

This time Yoongi looks directly at you. A small crease forms between his brows as he frowns slightly.

“I don’t date in secret, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, thinking you were suddenly hallucinating.

“DATE??”

Your sudden outburst startled him, and for a brief moment the confidence in his expression falters. He mentally curses himself for jumping ahead without properly asking you first.

“I thought you liked me—”

“You knew?!” you interrupted.

Yoongi nods sheepishly.

“Jungkook told me—”

“That fucker— I swear to God—”

“Baby…” Yoongi murmured softly, cutting off your mini rant with a calming tone as he pulled you again closer to his chest. You gladly snuggled against him.

“I’m sorry if I startled you. We can take it slow,” he mumbled, his gaze steady and sincere as he watched your reaction. “You know… get to know each other better before we start dating. Assuming your brother doesn’t kill me first when I tell him.”

You hold his gaze for a moment.

Then you shook your head.

“Fuck taking it slow—and fuck Namjoon. It’s my decision if I want to date you now,” you said firmly before leaning forward to place a few soft pecks on his lips.

A smile spreads across Yoongi’s face.

He shifts slightly, about to lean over you and deepen the kiss—

When suddenly the suite door swings open. Both of your heads snap toward the doorway.

Standing there is Jungkook, who very clearly has just woken up.

For a split second he freezes, eyes widening as he realizes he has just walked in on his older brother sharing a bed with someone.

“Shit!” Jungkook panicked, quickly stepping back out and pulling the door closed again.

Just seconds later, the door swings open once more—this time with added force.

“Y/N? What the hell?!” Jungkook blurted out in disbelief as he strides into the room and shuts the door behind him.

He stares at the two of you, clearly stunned by the sight.

Yoongi is already preparing to kick him out, but you instinctively pull the comforter higher around yourself, curling closer to Yoongi in embarrassment.

Your eyes follow Jungkook as he casually walks toward the bathroom.

The moment he disappears inside, you lean closer to Yoongi and whisper hurriedly into his ear.

“Yoongi… I’m still naked.”

Your face burns at the realization that Jungkook—your best friend—just saw you in bed with his brother, fully naked under the thick comforter, but he doesn’t know that, right?

“The hell do you want, Jungkook? Can you get out?” Yoongi called toward the bathroom, his tone calm despite the situation.

“Took you long enough, hyung,” Jungkook teases as he steps back out.

“Fuck you. Get out,” Yoongi barked, rolling his eyes, though you can see a restrained smile tugging at his lips.

“Okay, okay—I just needed this.” Jungkook raises a hand, showing the toothbrush and toothpaste he grabbed from the sink as he walks toward the door.

But before stepping out, he pauses dramatically.

A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he tilts his head back slightly, tongue poking on the inside of his cheeks cockily, hands resting on his hips.

“You’re so dead when Namjoon-hyung finds out,” he teased his brother with a laugh.

And then he disappears, closing the door behind him.

Silence settles in the room again. That’s when a realization quietly dawns on you.

The real reason Jungkook never once tried to make a move on you all these years is because he knows.

His brother, Yoongi, liked you too.

© 2026 toastynamgi. all rights reserved.

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Wtf is this... this is worse than porn