SLOTH (Latin, tristitia or acedia ("without care")) sometimes defined as physical laziness... has also been defined as a failure to do things that one should do.
"What is right is often forgotten by what is convenient" - Bodie Thoene
genre ↠ fluff, very very soft smut that’s actually kinda filthy, and a dash of angst
warning ↠ creampie, cockwarming, drug use (but please don’t do drugs), kitten!kink, riding, unprotected sex
word count ↠ 2.501
a/n ↠ a little prelude to ywto (or just me being a little shit)
「」
It's a pleasant sort of patter the rain makes, sideswiping the framed sheet of glass before veering down to the alabaster marble sill and threatening to bleed through the vinyl jamb-liners, skinny decrepit branches of the nearby timber tree scuffing across the lunette window gaudily and confusing Yoongi's whereabouts. He isn't at home— he can guess that much— there isn't a tree for miles where he and the boys live, so he can't possibly be at home. But he hears them. At least, he thinks he does.
Yoongi can't actually see the rain or the boys, but he's imagining it— them, coining a paradisiacal imagery of its jarring beauty amongst the monotone buzzing that hums in its background; an amiable lull that keeps everything still— too still. Muted pleading murmurs from, Jungkook? Taehyung? Hoseok?, if it's really raining, then it's definitely one of them, attempting to persuade Namjoon into allowing them to feed their childlike minds and play in the midst of the rain. And if Yoongi goes by the bantam defeated sigh he hears next, he knows Jin's sided with them and Namjoon's been forced into compliance. Like always.
"Yoongi?"
He can vaguely remember a time somewhat similar to this, not that he'd paid much attention to the rain then but he remembers where he was, where they were; cramped up in the small boxy apartment he'd called home once upon a time, settled comfortably on the carpeted flooring next to the jaded mattress, with his back rested up against the wall. Y/N so rightfully in his lap, velvety legs anchored around his slender waist, ankles crossed over the other whilst his cock stayed buried deep inside her, hardened length perfectly accustomed to her snug feel, her feverish warmth and the sweet slickness of her juices. He'd been reluctant to let her go, fingers planing the smooth skin of her ass, tips pressing into the zaftig flesh as he kept her still.
"Yeah?"
"M'hot," she mumbles, her fingers desperately gripping and raking through the snowy white roots of his hair as she sags forward, burying her face into the crook of his shoulder with an all too needy whine. "It's too hot. Want to move, so bad."
Y/N can't begin to understand why he's doing this— why he's keeping her wanting and waiting. There are tears pricking at the innermost corners of her eyes as the intensity of the situation lapses through her in waves. "Need you to fuck me now, Yoongi— please."
Yoongi chuckles, running his palms down the lengths of her spine before jamming his fingers into the tops of her thigh potently. "Just wait."
It'd been warm, almost too warm, fireside burning a fervid heat in contrast to the bitter feel of outside, seeping through their naked skins and glossing a sheen of sweat in its wake. Her eyes barely escaping from their half-lidded lull and he expected it's what he must've looked like then too, complete with laden eyes, a slothful smirk and an obvious lag in his actions, both obliviously high on the pills he'd sought his peace of mind with.
"I'll fuck you soon," he promises, pressing his lips to the top of her head and breathing in her fresh honeyed scent, the feel of her breasts flat against him eliciting a small relieved sigh from the grasp of his lips. "Just need you like this for a bit longer— just a bit."
Yoongi admits it had become a part of his routine he couldn't— didn't want to— shake, having his cock lodged deep inside the warmness of her cunt, her walls tight up against him, fitting so perfectly like only she can. He'd loved it. He'd loved— loves her.
Y/N pulls back from him slightly, moving to rest her forehead gently on his, noses skimming barely and warm breathes tangling together in shared breath. "Can't understand why you like this," she mumbles, attempting to buck her hips expeditiously but he halts her movements before they even begin and she huffs. "It's boring."
He grins, nudging her head back with his forehead before grazing his teeth teasingly along her jaw. "Got me an impatient little kitten, haven't I?" He muses, sinking his teeth into her skin, almost painfully so, if it weren't for the fact that her pain threshold had been dubbed sufficiently. "Should make you wait longer for every time you complain, you wouldn't like that would you? Turn you into a proper whiny brat for me."
He presses his fingers firmly into the lower scapes of her jaw, tilting her head back so that he leers over her. "Open your mouth," he mutters, thumb lining the ridge of her bottom lip softly, forcing her lips to fall apart for him naturally. "Nice and wide."
Y/N's beautiful, her lashes flutter over the apples of her flushed cheeks instantly, mouth parted wide with strands of hair obstructing her features ever so slightly. But it doesn't deter him, only turns him on more and urges his actions. He sucks at his tongue, warranting his saliva to collect in his mouth before leisurely letting it seep past his lips and into her mouth. It fuses with her tongue briefly, slipping past the expanse and down her throat. It's erotic, filthy and yet he tastes so sweet, like strawberries, opiates and terrible decisions.
"There kitten," he asserts. "You can ride me if you want now."
He'd loved when she rode him. She never complained once, even when she was tired she'd do it. She'd waste no time in swinging her legs either side of him, and getting a rhythm going. He'd taken advantage of it— told her to ride him more times than he can remember. But only because she'd been so good at it. He swears.
Y/N sways her hips against him, nails channelled into the pasty surface of the skin at his nape with clammy thighs chafing against his own. A slow deliberate dally in her actions, grinding down on him in such a way one would slosh water in a bath, unhurriedly and tenderly; completely disorientated in the red-hot euphoria that flows through her veins and quells in her brain. She's never felt this high, never felt this good— or this full. He's pressing up against her, every inch of his thick cock stretching at her delicate walls, throbbing bated pulsations that stirs madness at the bottom of her belly.
"So deep," she whimpers quietly, a prominent tremble in her bottom lip when he bottoms out in her yet again, the head of his cock tickling at her cervix all too momentarily and it's everything she wants and some. "Love it like this. Love it deep."
Yoongi groans gutturally, chest heaving as if he's the one putting in all the work when really he's just watching her do it. Watching his girl get off all by herself, hearing the way her words loosen, tongue wrapping around the crude words as if it's nothing. But he knows it's not, he knows if she were at all clear-headed, she'd be ducking her head, flushed with embarrassment and it'd take him a long time to coax her out of it. But not tonight. Tonight she has no qualms and he loves it.
"Yeah, kitten?" His thumb scapes over her cheeks, outlining the shape of her lips perfectly and dragging her bottom lip down as he drops the digit. "You're so fucking sexy," he declares, a stately smirk laded on his mouth as he tilts forward, mouth to her ear when he speaks. "Tell me more. Tell me what else you like kitten and I might just fill you up properly, might just come inside your pretty little cunt instead of messing up your face."
"Fuck," she hisses. His words are always so blatant, so outlandishly provocative that it catches her off guard every single time without fail, pausing at her breath and quickening its beat. "Love when you call me kitten for one."
Yoongi scoffs. "Know you do," he boasts, shrugging his shoulders as if it were a thing of old news. "Turns you into a proper obedient pet for me. But you gotta do better than that— might not let you come either if you don't."
Yoongi knows she's close, her legs quiver beneath her as she bounces avidly, the sound of their skin slapping together only getting louder and louder every time she comes down. So he knows he'll be putting her through torture if he doesn't allow her release soon enough. But he'll hold out. He'll wait until he's heard what he wants.
"You don't want that, do you?" He muses. "Don't want to not be able to cream all over my cock like the dirty little kitten you are, right?"
Y/N shakes her head quickly, lips dropping into a desperate pout as she tries to appeal to him. "No. No. Always feels better with your cock," she admits, voice nothing but a breathy moan as the feeling of his cock everywhere takes over. "Tried— fuck. Tried to finger myself the other day, tried to pretend it was your cock but it didn't work."
"Christ, when was this?"
"Erm, a while ago." Y/N falters for a second, the pressure of her upcoming orgasm making everything all too sensitive and Yoongi notices it, clasping his palms around her hips and moving her forcefully. She knows she can't come though, knows she'll be in trouble if she does. So she tries to distract herself woefully. "When you went to that studio you said you liked for a week— God I— I really missed you. Wanted you to fuck me so bad and you weren't there."
Yoongi curses, holding onto her just that bit tighter as he clenches his eyes shut, steadying himself. He feels like he's floating and he feels like he could really blow his load early if he's not careful, especially with the way Y/N's talking. And when he opens his eyes again, she's staring straight at him, eyes widened marginally and a pleading ask glimmering in the depths of her orbs. She's doing all she can to hold on, teeth gritted together, nose scrunched and her brows furrowed. She's holding out just for him.
He runs his palms up her sides, smoothing over the bumps of her breasts and capturing her face between them. He pulls her closer, intertwined with not even a sliver of space separating them, heartbeats in tandem, captured in the faultless mix of love and lust as one and he kisses her. A teasing brush of the lips at first, before really delving into her, kissing her like she's the air he needs to come down to earth, tongues massaging over the other with strong familiarity. He grins, lips never leaving the touch of hers. "Come kitten," he soothes. "Come all over my cock like the good girl you are. Like I know you want to."
"Fuck!" Y/N releases a whine that mutes against his lips, her head thrown back and he follows her, keeping them locked together. She shakes against him, body gone spasmodic against her will, the exhilaration of her release tumbling down her and buzzing in the air around her. She's never come like this, never really really felt it shatter at her bones like it does, frazzling and intoxicating her mind with all thoughts Yoongi. "God," she breathes. "Love you. I love you so much Yoongi, you can't ever leave me. Need you— need your cock forever and ever."
Yoongi sniggers, rocking up into her and tiding her through her orgasm slowly. "Sure it's not just the pills talking."
"It's not. Promise," she insists. "Really do love you a lot."
"Love you too kitten. You tired?" Yoongi wants to come, specifically, he wants to come inside her— he really does. But if she's tired, then he won't hesitate to tuck her in bed. He can easily just jerk off himself, not that he really wants to. But he will. For her.
"A bit," she confesses, locking her arms around her neck hastily when she feels him ready to lift her off him. "Not that much though," she rushes out. "Want you to fill me up properly first, want to feel it leaking out of my cunt. Please."
"Fuck, you're beautiful." Yoongi doesn't waste his time in ensuring he's got a good grip on her hips, sinking his back further down the wall and driving up into her hard. "So so beautiful." He's not holding back at all, not when she'd practically begged him, fast-paced steady thrusts set to ram directly at her cervix, impaling through the sensitivity of her walls. "All mine aren't you? All fucking mine."
"Yes! All yours," she says. And she means it, she's his. Her heart, body and soul, all his for the taking, all his to enjoy whenever he wants and she'll never have it any other way.
Yoongi grunts, twisting their bodies and pushing her back onto the mattress so he hovers over her, cock still firmly inside her as he drives into her at a new angle. An angle that allows him to double over on top of her, resting his head 'midst the slope of her neck as he brandishes her, sucking and biting his mark on the surface.
"God, you have such a greedy cunt," he says, hand massaging a thigh hooked around his hip. "Clenching on me like a fucking virgin would, so tight, so fucking tight."
"Fuck Yoongi— feels so fucking good."
"Shit."
He pounds into her vehemently, her cunt sucking him up with lewd slurps every time. She's so accustomed to him. How can he ever let her go when she fits him so perfectly. How can he ever let her go, when her jaw slackens the way it so celestially does, with an inaudible straggling scream as he jars inside her, slamming back into her forcefully— deliberately. How can he ever let her go when she takes him all so naturally, her walls milking his cock for all he's got, strings of his cum filling her up so deep and so full. How can he let go, someone, he knows he loves more than himself.
But he did. Yoongi had let her go. The rains gentle patter strengthens to a cascading clatter, pelts of water threatening at the mechanics of the window and rendering him the memory. The memory of the day Yoongi had brushed the tears that had fallen down the cheeks that used to beam at him, promising her he'd be back, promising her that he'd always come back— for her. And he swears by the fact that once his eyes can see past the imagery he's created, he'll fulfil that promise, in hopes that it's not already too late, he'll find her again, he'll hold her close, moulding her skin to his and make his heart beat the same way it did all those years ago.
