Okay Babe, After Working My 2 Remaining Brain Cells I Have Come Up With A Request For My Boyfiii/hubby

okay babe, after working my 2 remaining brain cells I have come up with a request for my boyfiii/hubby joonie (joon's whores™️ pls rise up) 🫣 i'd love a childhood bestfriends to lovers, fluff and smut ofc (if inspo hits, maybe a tiny pinch of angst? if not, it's okay 😌) here are some prompts :

Having so many inside jokes that just the two of them know, that other people often don’t understand their humor. “I’m just scared of losing you.” “Don’t think of it as losing, it’s more like evolving. You’re not losing your best friend, you’re getting something extra.”

and you know i'm extra, so here's some visual inspo (honestly, any excuse show off my domestic boyfriend pics 🫣)

okay okay love you to the moon and back 🌝, i am not sorry for the feral sounds that will come out of me once this thing is posted (i will need to be put down) ❤️❤️❤️

about love | knj (m)

>> pairing bestfriend!namjoon x fem!reader

>> genre/au's childhood best friends to lovers | fluff | smut | crack

>> summary during your trip to the aquarium, namjoon blurts out something that creates an unexpected turn to your friendship.

>> word count 2.8k

>> warnings dry humping | fingering | handjob | missionary | soft romantic sex :') | protected sex | namjoon being namjoon aka a clumsy cutie

>> author's note living for the boyfie pics of joon hehe i hope u enjoy this drabble baby. i included everything u mentioned (minus angst lol) i hope u don't fall more in love with joon after reading this sjdfhcsjd

[keep in mind that i do not have taglists for request, and prompts are marked in bold! thank you.]

Sundays meant one thing for you and Namjoon. It’s the day of the week where you both spend time together. This time, it was Namjoon’s turn to pick and usually he would pick an art exhibition or his favorite museum but, surprisingly enough he picked an aquarium. 

You hadn’t been to one since you were five years old. It was on a school trip, you and Namjoon being forced to walk side by side and hold hands like the rest. That’s the only thing you remember — oh, and that silly inside joke that got created that day. 

There’s something everyone knows about Namjoon. He’s incredibly smart. Ever since he was little he was always infatuated by random but very important facts — as he called them. 

You were determined that jellyfishes were called roundy fishes. Which isn’t really a word but you were certain! It made sense to you, and Namjoon laughed when you shrieked how you were extremely excited to see the roundy fishes, until he discovered it was jellyfishes. Afterwards, he had made it his life mission to, one annoy you with the ridiculous name and two, give you every single fact about them. 

Till this day, Namjoon still teased you with that. 

The aquarium was the one from when you were small, basically where your friendship started to bloom. The thought of you being here with Namjoon almost 20 years later, made you nervous. A good nervous. 

On your 20th birthday, you realized you were in love with Namjoon. It wasn’t even a special moment. He was just suddenly holding a silly tiny cake with a few candles and pushing you to make a wish as you blew on them. In that moment you had looked at him and something sparked in your heart. People would call it butterflies, but you called it a spark. 

That spark never left. You weren’t exactly planning on ever telling him, his friendship meaning much more to you than ruining it by a confession. 

Therefore, you kept it hidden. But, today he’s making it hard. Especially by showing up with a cute white sweater and his glasses. 

Fuck. 

“Ready to go see some roundy fishes?” Namjoon says, teasing you by knocking his elbow into yours. 

“You’re still on that, I see.” You respond, trying to hide your smile as you both walk inside the aquarium. 

The blue lights are all over the place, decorations of every living creature hanging on the walls. 

Namjoon doesn’t even hesitate, dragging you by the arm directly towards the jellyfish. 

You’re stunned by how beautiful they look. They’re moving in slow motion, creating what seems to be a whole different universe behind glass. It almost reminds you of the clumps of lava, floating in a lava lamp after you turn it on and let it sit for a few hours. 

Somehow, you’re just standing in silence, admiring them silently while Namjoon stands next to you. He’s not saying anything either, but it’s a comfortable silence. It’s always like this with Namjoon. Just extreme comfort at all times. 

You finally decide to turn your head towards Namjoon, noticing how he’s staring at you already. His expression is something you’ve never seen before. You can’t exactly pinpoint what he’s thinking, which is usually your best skill. 

“What?” You ask. 

“I’m in love with you.” Namjoon blurts out. Your eyes pop open by his words, mouth dropping silently as well. 

What did he just say?!

“I—“ 

Namjoon seems to be getting out of his trance, smacking his lips and returning his gaze on the glass. 

“Did you know that jellyfishes are 95% water?” Namjoon changes the subject quickly, spilling out every fact he has on your favorite fish. 

“Namjoon.” 

“They actually also have really short lifespans.” He continues, ignoring how you called out his name. 

“Joonie.” 

Namjoon returns his eyes to you. The nickname always does it for him. 

“I’m sorry. I was just—“ He tries to explain before you cut him off. 

“I’m in love with you, clumsy.” 

Namjoon’s expression brings out a huge change. He begins to light up, almost turning the same color as the glowing jellyfishes. 

“What.” He breathes out. 

“Yeah.” You step closer. 

“Holy shit.” Namjoon suddenly says. “You’re serious.” He points out, as if it wasn’t obvious before. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You suddenly begin to laugh, your stomach feeling all kinds of weird because what just happened?! 

“Wait. Since when have you..” He starts off. 

“Since my 20th birthday.” You confess with confidence. 

“Ha.” Namjoon chuckles. “I win.” 

“Wait what?” You ask in confusion.

“Been in love with you ever since you called jellyfish roundy fishes.” 

Fuck. He has got to be kidding. 

“Please tell me you’re joking.” You say in disbelief. 

“No. Five year old Namjoon was definitely onto something.” He admits, humor laced in his tone. 

“Wow.” Your stomach just did a somersault. 

“Meaning, he’s been waiting to do something for a really long time.” Namjoon explains, moving closer to you, both of your chests brushing against one another. 

“Oh?” 

Namjoon smiles, his dimples becoming prominent before he dips his head, his lips about to reach yours until—

“Wait.” You put a hand on his chest, causing his brows to furrow. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’m just… scared of losing you.” You admit. 

There’s not really anything to be afraid of, you know that. But this is Namjoon. Silly, smart, clumsy Namjoon who’s been by your side for as long as you remember. This is scary. What if you mess up? Then you’ll eventually lose Namjoon and—

“Hey.” Namjoon catches you out of your thoughts. 

“Don’t think of it as losing, it’s more like evolving. You’re not losing your best friend, you’re getting something extra.” Namjoon says, lightening up the room and washing every horrible thought away. 

You nod, agreeing because he’s not exactly wrong. You’re just about to step into something else, but one thing that will never change is Namjoon being your best friend. 

When Namjoon notices how you’re more relaxed, he takes the opportunity to finally kiss you. 

It’s like everything around you stops the moment your lips meet. You feel like you’ve floated into a completely different place. Namjoon hesitates with giving you more than a peck, so just as he’s about to pull away, you grab his nape letting them touch again. 

The kiss is slow. The kiss is the start of something. 

Finally, you pull away. Namjoon can’t stop smiling and your whole body has turned warm. 

Now, while you’re watching the jellyfish, Namjoon is holding your hand. They seem to fit so perfectly and your mind hasn’t even processed everything that just happened. But one thing you know for sure, is that you’ve never been happier. 

The rest of the day, you walk around, Namjoon telling you everything he knows about each species. But it’s different this time, because each time he gets excited you get the urge to kiss him again and do so. 

Namjoon doesn’t stop glowing the whole time you’re there, neither do you. 

After a few hours, you both decide to head home. Namjoon sits in the passenger seat while you hum out the song playing on the radio. 

When you finally arrive in front of his place, you both pause and look at each other again. 

“Do you… want to come in?” Namjoon offers, scratching his neck while asking. A gesture he does when he’s nervous. 

“I’d love to.” You seem more calm than he does. 

“Oh, okay!” Namjoon gets excited, hurrying himself out of the car while you begin to laugh. You’re so in love with him it has turned ridiculous. 

You’ve been in Namjoon’s apartment plenty of times. You could find everything with your eyes closed if you tried. This time, it’s a bit different. The atmosphere is clouded with love, while Namjoon scrambles to make you both some tea. 

He’s excited, yes, but nervous too. He’s not the only one, you’re just better at controlling it. 

When the tea has been made, you both sit down on his couch. He’s turned a few lamps on, the exposure of light dimmed which creates an oddly romantic vibe. Everything is unplanned. You’re just both living in the moment, talking and chatting about anything that comes to mind, while you play with his hair. 

Something starts to shift when Namjoon stops talking about space, and decides to kiss you instead. The kiss is different from the first one. This time you’re both aiming for the same goal. Namjoon still seems hesitant, careful with moving his body closer to yours — which causes you to lead. 

You pull Namjoon down on top of you, holding onto his waist as you continue to glide your lips above his. He tastes of peppermint tea, a taste you don’t really seem to mind. 

It’s going somewhere you’re both aware of. Normally you would’ve been scared in such a situation, thinking you’re moving too fast but you’ve both been waiting so long for this moment that it doesn’t exactly feel like that. 

Namjoon’s lips move from yours down to your neck, biting you gently before replacing it with his wet tongue. He’s really good at this. Fuck. 

For the first time you’re already slightly panting by a minor action. It’s more the thought of it being Namjoon doing this, that he’s the one you’re currently making out with on his couch and not some random person from tinder or someone you met at the club. No. This is your best friend. Your other half. The one who’s apparently been in love with you ever since the first day you got to know him. 

“I’m loving the extra things I’m getting.” You joke, running your fingers through his long strands while Namjoon giggles against your skin. 

“Yeah, good you’re not missing out anymore.” What a cocky bastard. 

“Mhm.” You hum, enjoying Namjoon hovering above you a tad bit too much. 

“Wait. Are we doing this?” Namjoon pauses, removing his face from your neck. He’s looking at you, raising his eyebrow in question. 

You pull him by the belt. “Yeah. We’re doing this.” You confirm, unbuckling his belt while Namjoon chuckles at your lack of patience. 

But he’s no better himself, because before you know it he’s working his hands on your zipper, failing miserably but somehow making it work and opening them. 

In sync, you both touch each other, groaning by the feeling. Namjoon feels big under your palm and he notices how you’re already wet from just a little hot make out sesh on his couch. 

“Shit—“ Namjoon curses, sliding his fingers up and down above the fabric while you’re cupping him. 

“Yeah.” 

The sensation grows with every touch, a desperation coming to the surface. You’re certain Namjoon is going to fuck you on this couch, but he has other plans. 

“Bedroom. Now.” He says in between pants. Too overwhelmed to form an actual sentence because holy shit you’re touching him, at this very moment. This isn’t a silly wet dream, no. This is real life and it’s about to happen. 

It looks silly how you both get up so fast, running towards Namjoon’s bedroom as if there’s hidden gold in there. Namjoon closes the door even though he lives alone and you’re already laying down on his bed, waiting for him to join you. 

The bed slightly dips when he joins you, grabbing your waist so you’re able to feel every inch of him as he kisses you softly. Your hands shamelessly feel his chest and arms, a weakness of yours when it comes to Namjoon and his body. 

You remember the first time you saw him after a while, his shoulders broader and more toned. You tried not to show him how your eyes raked all over his body, checking him out with zero shame. Thankfully, Namjoon was too excited to see you to notice and you’re grateful for that. 

But now, you can touch him there. Feel the edges of his muscles without having to wonder what they feel like. Fuck. You were right. They feel like a dream. 

Namjoon moans against your lips when your hand moves upwards beneath his shirt, his soft skin burning against yours. You knew he had abs, he’s mentioned once or twice he was doing an abs workout when you’ve called him during his workout hours but— he’s truly ripped. The prominent edges of his abs tense under your touch and your mind is immediately sent into a whirlwind. 

You grab onto his waist, moving him to hover above you once more. Although this time, Namjoon presses down on you, giving you a glimpse of how hard he is. He’s barely grazed his covered cock on you, and you’re whining beneath him, pulling him closer to kiss him more roughly. 

The sounds Namjoon makes are unreal. He’s groaning softly, but moaning with a raspy tone. It’s almost a bit embarrassing how wet you’ve become by simply dry humping a bit and being blessed by hearing Namjoon enjoying himself above you. 

You both go back to groping and touching one another, this time beneath the fabric that stands in the way. Namjoon’s cock feels heavy in your hand, the skin soft and the tip wet. You gain the courage to squeeze his cock gently, causing Namjoon to gasp while he’s dragging out his fingers on your slit. 

You tense when Namjoon’s thumb begins to circle on your clit. Namjoon grows a smile at your reaction, continuing as he drags two of his fingers inside of you with ease. He curls them when they’re fully inside, petting your g-spot and making you moan. You return the favor, stroking Namjoon’s cock and squeezing by the tip, circling your thumb over it. 

Now the question is, who’s going to give in first? 

Namjoon pulls himself upwards, his fingers still inside you, taking his free hand to remove his glasses and place them on the night table. With that, he also reaches for a condom in the drawer. 

As he moves downwards, he reconnects his lips with yours. The kiss is wet, messy and hot. It only makes you more excited to finally have sex with Namjoon. 

You’re both moaning, moving your bodies in sync, in search of friction but nothing will beat Namjoon being inside of you. The lack of patience starts to show for you when you pull his pants and boxers till mid thigh. His cock springs free, moving closer to your core. Namjoon pulls out his fingers, grabbing onto his cock and makes eye contact with you. 

You nod to his silent question, resulting in Namjoon to pull your pants and underwear completely off. You expect for Namjoon to get on with it, but instead he moves closer, grinding down on your naked core. His cock slips in between your lips, letting you feel him fully. 

“Shit—” You gasp, overwhelmed by how good it feels. 

“Yeah, baby.” Namjoon says in agreement, mouth slack as he continues to move. If he continues, you’re certain you can come like this. 

“Joonie, please.” You bite your lip, preventing a moan from escaping your lips. “Need you.” You mumble against his skin. 

You have never in your life seen Namjoon hurry as much as he does right now. He almost falls down on you, too excited to put on a condom. Luckily, he manages quickly, the condom sliding down with ease. 

With that, Namjoon circles his tip by your entrance, teasing you a bit. It causes you to move your hips, trying to aim for his cock but you fail. Namjoon bites back a smile, and carefully he starts to thrust, sliding with ease. The stretch feels incredible. 

After a few shallow thrusts, Namjoon manages to settle. He takes a second to enjoy how you feel wrapped around him before beginning to move. 

Holy fucking shit. Namjoon thrusts like a God. You’re already on edge, barely having him inside of you but you feel yourself coming close to an orgasm. 

Namjoon picks up a fast pace, grabbing both your hands and intertwining your fingers, settling them above your head. He gasps against your lips, biting down on them whenever you clench around him. 

“You feel like a fucking dream.” Namjoon pants, smiling down on you. Your skin grows hot by his compliment, nearing an end. 

With a few more thrusts from Namjoon, your back arches, a highly pitched moan slipping as you come undone all over him. Not long after, Namjoon’s cock twitches inside of you, spilling into the condom with a groan. 

You both lay in each other’s arms, skin sweaty and warm. Namjoon pulls out with ease, tossing the condom in a bin before moving back towards you. He lays in your arms and your hands move upwards to his hair. He hums in satisfaction, loving how your fingers feel scraping his scalp. 

“What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” 

You pause, surprised he’s asking such a thing. 

“Why are you asking this when you can’t even boil an egg?” Namjoon gasps in offense, while you start to laugh over how ridiculous he is. 

“It was worth a try.” He says, giving a small peck to your neck. 

Kim Namjoon will be the death of you. 

© jjkeverlast 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.]

Themes: having sex in front of the members, maknae line fucking mc, hyung line watching, free use mc, poly sexual relationship, mc loving it, riding, anal, double penetration, casual/not weird to have sex in front of others vibe, breastplay and breast sucking, rubbing off

—

You were such a lucky girl to live with seven guys who loved sex as much as you do.

You and the boys were watching a movie tonight, you were on Jungkook’s lap while Jimin was sitting next to him and Yoongi was in front of you. Taehyung was on the other sofa with Namjoon and Hoseok. Seokjin was still in the kitchen cooking dinner for all of you, but he had come out to say chat and keep up with the movie every once in a while too.

It was Friday night, so it wasn't like anyone had anything better to be doing than staying home and watching movies.

A shiver ran through your body as you lowered yourself on Jungkook’s cock, moaning softly as he began to thrust inside of you. "I love being fucked," You breathed, arching your back. "So good, Kookie.”

"Yeah?" Jungkook murmured, kissing your neck. He gripped your waist tightly as he rocked his hips into yours, sliding himself deeper into your wet pussy.

"Mm." You moaned again, biting down on your bottom lip. His cock felt so good against your walls and you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and let the pleasure take over.

The protagonist shrieked as she came eye to eye with the monster that had been torturing her friend, and all of you tensed you as the movie became more scary.

Except, instead of getting scared, you were very turned on and Jungkook's rough movements only intensified that. Jimin’s hand rested on top of your thigh before he lightly squeezed into it, and you smiled at him as you continued bouncing on Jungkook. It felt so good to have someone else touching you when you were fucking Jungkook, it made you feel even hotter and hornier.

“Is he fucking you good?” Yoongi asked from the couch, voice hushed and low.

“Yes.” You moaned. "He is."

"I bet he is," Jimin said. "You look like you’re enjoying it." He commented with a chuckle, before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.

Your heart started to race, and you moaned against his mouth as he kissed you. The kiss went on for several seconds as you continued to ride Jungkook. Your legs shook slightly as Jimin pulled away from your lips, and you let out a shaky breath.

Your hand traveled over Jimin’s thigh, until you reached his crotch. You pressed your hand against his bulge, and noticed he was already getting hard.

"Wanna join us?" You whispered, letting your hand slip between Jimin’s thighs.

“Yes.” Jimin groaned. "Fuck yes.”

His words excited you even more, and you moved your fingers along his shaft. You could tell by the way his breathing grew heavier and his face flushed that he was just as aroused as you were. He pulled his sweatpants and boxers down, revealing his erection. He was thick, and smooth, and your fingers wrapped around his cock as you started rubbing him.

Jimin let out soft, needy whimpers, which you loved, hearing how much he needed you. His hand slipped under your shirt, and he fondled your breasts as you continued jerking him off.

Jungkook grunted loudly then, and you looked over at him. He looked so happy, and his eyes were closed, his head tilted back as he fucked into your tight body.

“Look at you, does it feel good?” Namjoon suddenly appeared next to you, his hands sliding across your shoulders as he lovingly massaged you.

“Yes, it feels amazing.” You moaned, letting your head fall back as Namjoon continued to touch you.

His hands slid down your sides, before he gripped onto your shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing your nude body. He grinned, taking a moment to admire you before his eyes landed on Jungkook. “Good job, kookie. You’re really grown now, huh?” He ruffled his hair before he stepped away and walked back to the couch.

“I want your cock in my mouth.” You told Jimin.

Jimin smirked. "Okay." He stood up, and then allowed his sweatpants to drop down his knees, the others not really caring, before he led positioned himself in front of you. He pushed his way inside your mouth, and you moaned around his cock.

"She's good at this." Namjoon praised you.

“Isn’t she?” Yoongi agreed.

Your head bobbed back and forth, sucking Jimin off as he rocked his hips into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat, and he grabbed onto your cheeks as he thrust his cock into your mouth.

“Let Jimin fuck her too, Jungkook. You had her for way too long.” Namjoon suggested, and Jungkook growled, but didn't protest. He eased himself down on the couch and lifted you off of him.

Jimin got on the sofa and laid down, grabbing onto your hips as he began pumping his dick into your ass. He was big, and hot, and filled you up wonderfully. You moaned, resting your head back against his shoulders, as he pounded you harder. His pelvis slapped against your own, and each time he slammed forward, you felt his cock hit deep within you, making you whimper.

“Yes, babygirl, my cock feels so tight in your ass.” Jimin rasped, gripping onto your hips tightly.

“Ugh...mmn..." You moaned, unable to breathe. Your ass stung, but it was also so good, the way he stretched you out and made your insides burn with pleasure.

Jungkook pleased himself as he watched you get fucked by Jimin. His gaze was heavy, and he looked almost dazed. He stroked himself slowly, and you could see his hand shake.

Taehyung stood from the sofa and plopped himself down on the sofa you and Jimin were fucking on. He leaned against the armrests, watching as Jimin fucked you. His eyes wandered, stopping occasionally to admire your tits. When his eyes finally landed on you, he licked his lips. Watching his best friend fuck you turned him on, and he couldn't help himself. He pulled his boxers down, and his cock sprung free, throbbing and hard. Taehyung then scooted closer to the two of you, and he positioned himself above you.

"Fuck, I need you too." You whispered, watching as Taehyung prepared you by sliding his tip over your folds. His cock nudged against your entrance, and he rubbed the head around your slick opening, making your hips buck.

“Fuck!” You gasped, feeling him stretching your inner walls as he pushed himself into you inch by inch. His cock was big, and it took a lot of effort to allow his length inside of you, but eventually he was buried to the hilt. You panted, shuddering at how stuffed you felt.

“Mm, I can feel how tight you are.” Taehyung groaned, rocking his hips back and forth as he fucked you.

Jungkook now joined by your side, kissing your left breast as his hand cupped your other. You moaned as you enjoyed their attention, your muscles tightening around both men as they began to move. They bounced against you with each thrust, riding your body back and forth as they pleasured themselves.

Jungkook wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking on it gently as he played with your breasts, and you rewarded him by stroking his cock as he sucked on your breast, his eyes closed as he visibly relaxed, lost in the moment as he just enjoyed you.

Taehyung sped up his pace, and you bit your bottom lip. You loved having two cocks inside of you at once, and it felt so good knowing that you were pleasing them both, and could still please Jungkook as you simply laid there getting fucked. Their moans echoed off the walls as they fucked you, with the tv sounds still blaring in the background.

“So beautiful.” Hoseok whistled, his arms resting on the backrest as he watched you get fucked. In his hand, he held his phone, snapping some videos of you to keep.

You felt a tear run down your cheek as the pleasure was becoming almost too good to handle. You lifted your head and looked over at Hoseok, who smiled back at you. He leaned in and kissed you tenderly, and you soon felt the warmth of his tongue in your mouth, tangling with yours. The kiss lasted for several seconds before he pulled away and leaned back.

Seokjin now walked out of the kitchen, holding a spoon and making his way towards you. He sat down on the edge of the sofa, and watched as the two men kept fucking you.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Seokjin asked, smiling sweetly.

You nodded.

“You look like you’re having a lot of fun.” He leaned in and kissed you on the forehead, before bringing the spoon to your mouth. You opened wide, allowing him to feed you, and he slid the spoonful of sauce into your mouth.

“What do you think? Does it taste good?” Seokjin asked, pulling the spoon back.

You hummed, “Yes, it’s good..” You shivered as you felt Jungkook’s tongue flicking against your nipple as he kneaded your other breast rougher. You moaned, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the sensation.

Content with your answer, the chef of the home returned to the kitchen. “Dinner is done in ten minutes.” He called out.

Jimin groaned. "No, we're not ready yet." He could feel himself get closer to his limit.

Yoongi chuckled. "Take your time. We'll eat later if we need to, or she can have her dinner while getting fucked.”

Your body melted when you felt Taehyung and Jimin change their rhythm; Taehyung sliding in when Jimin slid out, and vice versa, and they slowed down their pace, making you feel every inch of their cocks. Your legs shook and trembled, and you could feel your orgasm approaching.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop…” You whispered, your eyes rolling back as your head fell back on Jimin's shoulder, your mouth unable to shut as drool dripped down your chin.

Both men kept moving, one pumping his dick into your pussy and the other into your ass, and they did so until your body tensed up, and your toes curled.

“She loves it so much.” Taehyung said with gritted teeth as he tried to hold himself back from cumming.

“We love it too, baby.” Jimin moaned softly.

You squeezed your eyes tight, the room starting to spin around you. You could only take so much, and your body couldn't handle it anymore. But you didn’t wanted to stop. You wanted to be fucked to your limits, and then some.

Your eyes shot open when you felt someone pressing against your clit. It was Yoongi, and you moaned as he teased your sensitive nub. He rubbed his thumb over your clit, before he worked his fingers between your legs. He then slid a finger into you, and you moaned louder as he began to stroke your g-spot.

Everyone was gathered around you, even Seokjin. The older boys were staring at you, circling around you, while the younger two were fucking you and the youngest finally came at how hard you started to squeeze his cock from the pleasure you were feeling.

Having all eyes on you, was so… unbelievably hot. You could barely stand it. And when Yoongi pushed two fingers inside of you and began to fuck you with them, you screamed; Yoongi’s fingers, Jimin stretching you, Taehyung pounding into you, and Jungkook kneading both your breasts was pushing you over the edge.

Your moans turned louder and shorter as you arched your back. Your hands clenched the cushion, and your nails dug into it as you cried out. You could feel your release coming, and you fought it the whole time. A tint of red flushed your face as tears built up in your eyes.

“Good girl…” You felt Seokjin’s fingers caress your face. “There you go, that’s right, go ahead and cum, you look amazing, mm, so hot.” He whispered, a smile on his face. While he did so, you felt an encouraging pat on your shoulder from Namjoon.

Then it happened.

You came so hard.

It was like a light switch had been flipped, and suddenly you went from being at your peak to being completely drained. Your muscles tightened up, and your body spasmed. The room around you faded, your mind blank, and everything became white.

Just as quickly as you came, you were brought back to reality as you collapsed onto the sofa. You laid there panting heavily, relishing in how good it felt. You were exhausted, but you didn't want to sleep. Not yet, you wanted to stay awake and enjoy the post-orgasmic high you were on.

After a few minutes, you opened your eyes again. You saw everyone was still there, watching you.

“So fucking hot.” Yoongi whispered.

“Isn’t she?” Namjoon agreed.

“Alright, let’s eat.” Seokjin clapped his hand together. “Jungkook, Jimin, set the table.“ He ordered them. “Get y/n her robe.” He called out to whoever felt like it.

You joined the guys at the dining table a few minutes later, laughing at their stories and chatting the night away.

Halle Bailey | Glamour | May 23, 2023 | 📷 AB + DM

s e v e n

p a i r i n g : jungkook x reader

g e n r e : baby daddy au

t a g s : sleazy!jk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, messy sex, half assed blowjob, rough sex, possessive!jk, he’s a jealous mess, he’s also like a lost puppy following you around, pervy!jk, dirty talk, light degradation, jk literally wants you all the time, oc is mean n cunty, but she’s also weak when it comes to him, me thinks he’s toxic, toxic!jk tag to be safe (for now LMAO), hyunjin gets put in his place three times LMAO, sex tapes, THIS IS NASTY Y’ALL

w o r d c o u n t : 5.5 k

s u m m a r y : “You know night after night, I’ll be fuckin’ you right,” or: “Girl hold on my baby daddy calling again.”

“Jungkook,” you sigh deeply, “I’m not kidding you can’t miss this, it’s his special day and he wants his dad there too,” You grit your teeth while digging through the pantry with your phone balanced on your shoulder, “No! I already told you what he wants to do afterwards we’re not just going to cancel those plans because you wanna show off when you feel like it. He’s six!”

You’re already irritated and Jungkook clearly wasn’t making things any better with his nonchalant attitude and condescending words/tone. “Jungkook–you’re not listening–”

“Baby I heard ya loud and clear, stop stressin’ that pretty little head of yours. Sounds like you’re about to pop a nerve or something,” Jungkook replies with that stupid laugh of his, “I mean I know a couple things that can help you relax.”

You close your eyes and count to three under your breath tilting your head back and pinching the bridge of your nose. “...Tell me to calm down one more time and see what happens Jeon Jungkook,” you go to say more but he cuts you off.

“I didn’t tell you to calm down, I said to stop stressing.”

“........” Oh this man had you mad already, and he wasn’t even here yet. You ignore his voice and shakily set down the bag of bread you had pulled from the pantry. This man was so fucking dead when he got here.

“Ow–! Baby what the hell?” Jungkook yelps as soon as he walks through the door, he’s holding his arms up to block the stuff you throw at him (and they’re not soft either). “Did I do something?” He whines.

You glare fiercely back at him, “Did you do something? Don’t act smart with me Jungkook, you know damn well what you’re doing. Stop acting stupid because you look stupid.” You hurl your son’s toy ball at him and perfectly strike his head, “Today is not the day you hear me, Jiho’s been looking forward to his recital and you’re not going to ruin it by being a deadbeat.” You seethe.

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender, “Baby all I said was to quit stressin’,” he walks over carefully in case you planned on throwing something else, “you know I’d never make my baby mad on purpose.” He wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you to his chest, “Is this a new dress? Looks sexy.” He teases as he sneaks his hand down to your ass and squeezes it through the dress.

“Don’t change the subject,” you shake his hand away and stare up at him, “and how do you keep coming in here? Nevermind that, stop coming in like you live here.” You grunted.

“I found the key under the doormat, you should really hide it somewhere else.” Jungkook grins as he tries to kiss you but he misses and ends up kissing up on the side of your face, “ “Don’t be like that babe.” He pouts.

You grumble once more and relax into his arms, “Swear to me you’re not going to mess this up for Jiho.” You grab his face and direct it towards you, “Swear it.” You stare into his eyes with a pleading look.

Jungkook nods, “I swear.” He gently squeezes you, “I only want the best for Jiho too, he’s my son after all.” You stare at him, as if you’re trying to find any hints of deceivement but you find none in his eyes, in fact he looks sincere for once.

“Okay..” You softly reply and let his face go, “I believe you.”

He does that stupid (but charming) thing where he smiles coyly, borderline smirking, as he stares down at you with those playful eyes of his. “Now what do you say we relax a little yeah? You’re looking a little too fine for me to let it go to waste baby..” He gently runs his hands up and down your sides, slithering their way back to your ass like he had them before.

You laugh in disbelief, “You’re ridiculous, I can’t believe you.” You shake your head as Jungkook leans down to bury his nose in the side of your neck, “Fine.”

Jungkook grins triumphantly as he spins you around in the direction of the hallway where the bedroom lies. “Lead the way lil’ mama.” Jungkook murmurs in a low tone, eyes dropping down to admire your pretty ass. You take his hand and lead the way, biting back small laughs of amusement as he encircles his arms around you from behind and kisses on your neck.

You stumble into the room and let the straps of your sundress slip off your shoulders but he stops you, “No, wanna fuck you in it baby.” He whispers in your ear as he guides you on to the bed, “Damn, you look so fuckin’ fine walkin’ around like this. If only they knew how I make you mine every night baby.” He stands at the edge of the bed, hands slowly undoing his belt buckle and jeans. His Calvin Klein boxers peek out from underneath in all their glory making your mouth water a tiny bit.

“And if I said this dress wasn’t for you? I mean, you fuck me every night but do you know who comes when you’re not here?” You lick your lips with a smirk, “You have no clue what happens when you’re gone.” Jungkook’s eyes darken at that, the way he looks at you is enough to have you creaming your panties.

“Oh yeah? Like who mama? Go on and tell me,” He climbs on the bed and flips your dress up, “does he make you cum like I do? Has you shaking n creamin’ this slutty pussy all over his cock?” He yanks your panties down your legs and tosses the ruined item on to the ground below, “Let me tell you something,” he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, “he may be here when I’m gone but you always come back for this dick baby.”

You bite back your moan from the utter filth he just spewed at you, your poor pussy’s throbbing from all this and you desperately need his tongue or something on you. “Jungkook,” you quietly groan, “if you’re gonna fuck around then let go.” You glare.

“Patience, wanna savor my baby’s sweet lil’ pussy.” He hungrily licks his lips, “You got a man starved sweetheart,” he goes down between your legs, “I’ll make sure you forget all about your..friend.” He shoots a wink at you before he disappears under your dress.

Jungkook’s hot breath fans over your poor cunt and it tickles your clit and sends a shiver down your spine in anticipation. Luckily he doesn’t disappoint and his tongue dips low between your dewy soft folds, licking upwards until he circles your clit. A long sigh slips past your lips, you slide your hands into his hair and grip the curly strands as a means to hold on, “Oh fuck..” You whisper.

Jungkook hums against your pussy and buries himself nose deep while he licks and sucks at your slicked up hole. His nose brushes past your clit, bumping it gently and causing tiny little jolts of pleasure. “Mm..” You spread your thighs wider to make more room for him. You can feel his tongue prod at your sopping hole, dipping in teasingly but not quite slipping in just yet.

He curls his hands around your thighs and groans low, you can see his hips rock up into the bed as he grinds his hard cock over the sheets. The sight sends shivers down your spine as you push your pussy up into his mouth, “Kook,” you bite your lip, “need more..”

Jungkook makes some obscene slurping noises before he pulls away, panting slightly before he dives back in, only this time he aims for your sensitive clit. He wraps his lips around the bud and suckles, moaning so the vibrations travel. A shocked moan leaves you, your eyes slip shut and you roll your hips like you’re trying to fuck your pussy into his mouth some more.

His fingers trail down to push into your sloppy cunt, a low lewd squelching noise audible in the background as he fucks his fingers in and out of you steadily. Your toes curl and you hike your legs up over his shoulders. Jungkook doesn’t take it easy on your poor cunt opting to fuck his fingers in at a fast pace. He swirls his tongue around your clit and flicks it repeatedly until he has you squirming from the rapid pleasure building.

“Kook,” you moan, “fuck–hold on,” you try to push his head away but he tightens his grip on you and moves his fingers faster at godspeed. “Jungkook,” you moaned loudly and arch your back.

He pulls away from your cunt and pants heavily, “Go on, cum for me.” He licks his lips, “Get ‘em nice and wet for me.” He smirks with hazy eyes, emerging from under your dress but keeping up that rapid pace.

Your lips form a small ‘o’ and your pussy flutters around his fingers, “Oh fuck..!” You cry out and reach for the sheets, grabbing and twisting at them as you thrash around. “Mmm..! Mm,” you throw your head back and gasp as your orgasm finally hits hard.

“There you go baby, that’s it.” He leans down to capture your lips in a smooth and slow kiss, “Did so good for me.” He purrs against your lips watching as you tiredly moaned and slumped against the bed, “C’mere mama,” he helped you sit up, “need your mouth on my cock.” He shoves his boxers down enough to let his cock spring out.

It slaps against his stomach with a lewd noise, making you bite your lip in desire. “Get it wet for me,” Jungkook strokes his cock with a low sigh as he slaps the tip against your lips repeatedly, “c’mon sweetheart.” He guides your head forward towards his cock with a hitched breath.

You part your lips and wrap them around the weeping tip hearing him curse under his breath. His hand tangles in your hair and bites down on his lip, “There you go baby, look so fuckin’ sexy with my cock in your mouth.” He guides your head back and forth, hissing quietly when you gently scrape your teeth around the shaft.

Jungkook moans low when your tongue runs over a sensitive vein along his cock. You give him a harsh suck slowly pulling off his cock with a wet pop, it slaps against your lips and you smirk up at him, “Like that?”

“Just like that.” He repeats and gently pushes you back, “Open ‘em.” He pats your thighs, “We got an hour left before we gotta go.” He murmurs, “and I don’t plan on letting you walk outta here without a fuckin’.” He’s so vulgar it literally annoys you how much it turns you on when he talks like that about you.

You bite your lip and hoist your legs around his waist, reaching down to replace his hand on his cock as you press the bulbous head against your pussy, rubbing up and down while smearing your slick around. Jungkook watches you with hooded eyes as he holds himself up over you, “Go on baby, slip me right in your little pussy.”

His cock throbs in your hand and you take pity on him, letting the tip slip right in through the mess he created of you earlier. Your lips part as you guide him inch for inch until he’s bottomed out inside your pussy, balls deep and hips pressed against yours. Jungkook moans quietly and tests the waters by pressing in deeply, he rocks his hips slowly just enjoying the feeling of your soft pussy wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck me,” you sigh out and relax, this is exactly what you were craving for, you never wanted the feeling to end.

“I am baby.” Jungkook grins and pushes up into you once more, “Pussy feels so fuckin’ snug around me, ‘s all soaked for me too, bet you don’t get this wet for anyone else.” He grinds in deeply, hips circling slowly as his cock bumps into your sensitive spots and has you seeing stars for a moment.

You let out a long whimper and shut your eyes, “Oh fuck, right there Kook,” you whisper, “fuck, fuck, fuck me please.” You whine lowly and reach down to shove your dress up higher around your hips, “Need it so bad.”

“Need what baby?” Jungkook leaves tiny kisses down the side of your neck and shoulders, “C’mon, wanna hear you say it. Let me hear that filthy mouth of yours, I know how fuckin’ nasty you can get.” He whispers in your ear, hips grinding in that one spot you oh so love.

You shudder in pleasure and moan uncontrollably, “Mm right there–fuck, oh fuck, harder baby..” You whimper out, eyes shutting and thighs trembling once again. Jungkook thankfully doesn’t stall any longer, he re-adjusts his grip by sliding his hands under your ass and gripping both cheeks before he begins plowing into you.

He drives his cock deeper, his hips slap against your ass with loud smacking noises ringing throughout the bedroom. You lay there moaning unabashedly as he fucks the ever living shit out of you in broad daylight. Jungkook moans and pants softly in your ear, whispering a bunch of utter filth that only makes your pussy squeeze his cock and weep around him.

“You like that don’t you baby. Always been such a little slut for me, ain’t that right? This pussy belongs to me?” He growls in your ear and suddenly pins you to the bed with his hand wrapped around your throat, “You think you can just run off with someone else baby? Oh not afuckin’ chance, because at the end of the day you’ll always come running back to daddy won’t you?” He snaps his hips upward punishingly, striking your g-spot over and over again.

You cry out weakly and wildly buck your hips, the question flies right past you and you almost forget he even said anything from how good it felt. Jungkook doesn’t take too kindly and smacks your cheek a couple of times to get your attention as he asks you the question all over again, “Mmm–yeah,” you breathe out all high and soft, “only yours daddy.”

Jungkook rumbles quietly in satisfaction before he lets you go and sits up on his haunches, he grabs your waist and uses it as leverage, he begins slamming himself in and out of your poor abused cunt. You almost cry from how good it feels, your moans are choked up and some come out as pitiful little whimpers.

“Daddy–” You throw your head back and brace your hand against the sheets. The force of his thrusts is enough to send you shifting up against the mattress, there’s loud creaking noises to accompany the skin slapping skin. It just sounds like filthy fucking at this point.

Jungkook bites his lip and moans under his breath as his eyes lock on your bouncing tits, he digs his fingers into your waist and grips you so tight you know you’re going to bruise. He throws his head back with a long satisfied moan, “Oh fuck,” he rolls his hips quickly, “you’re gonna fucking make me cum baby.” He whispers breathily.

You squeeze around him with purpose, “Cum,” you whine, “inside.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, not at least verbally, he lets out a series of lewd moans and whispers of promises. He smacks his hips into yours and reaches between you two to thumb at your clit, rubbing the bud in tight fast circles. Your orgasm comes as a surprise, feeling like eternity as you sob in pleasure and plead for more.

“Fuck..!” Jungkook groans loud and long. His cock throbs and he slams three more times before pressing himself balls deep as he fills you with his cum. “Shit..” He laughs breathlessly and runs a hand through his messy hair, “That was a good one..” He mutters with a slap to your ass as he collapses next to you.

You pant softly and turn to the alarm clock on the nightstand, “Thirty minutes.” You sigh and roll out of bed, “Get up we’re leaving.” You say while wobbling to the bathroom to freshen the hell up, “I mean it Jungkook don’t you dare make us late.” You call out from the bathroom.

Jungkook hums, “Let a man rest sweetheart, you practically drained my balls.” He replies with a sigh, “Probably made another kid just now.” He smirks to himself as he closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head.

“Seriously sometimes I wonder how old you really are.” You shake your head as you stand in the doorway observing his relaxed form, “And I wonder why I even let you back in either. You’re not useful for anything.”

He cracks one eye open at you and smirks, “Admit it, you love my cock too much to cut me off baby, you can’t deny I don’t rock your entire world. Without me who’s gonna fuck you till you’re seeing stars?” He sits up and ignores the fact that his limp cock lays out in the open coated in slick and cum. “Does my baby need another round?” He opens his arms with a mock pout.

“Get the hell out we’re going to be late you fucking asshole.” You grit your teeth and storm off to find your shoes you were planning on wearing to the recital.

“Ay-ay captain.” Jungkook chuckles.

+

“Mama, mama! Did you see me up there?” Jiho comes running over with pure excitement in his eyes as he hugs your legs and looks up at you with those little doe eyes of his that you oh so love (not so much on the father..).

“Of course baby, you did so good up there my little man is a star.” You coo back and squat down to his level, “A little birdie told me that we should go get some pizza and ice cream at the park. How does that sound to you my love?” You gently cradle his cheek and caress it lovingly.

Jiho’s eyes lighten up at the mention of all those things, but what really breaks your heart is the noise he makes when he finally sees Jungkook behind you. “Daddy you came?!” Jiho runs over to hug him tightly, “Did you see me? Did you see me?” He excitedly jumps.

Jungkook softens and leans down to pick Jiho up with ease, “Course I saw champ you killed it, hell I think you even did better than that Sunhye girl.” He smirks as Jiho giggles uncontrollably, “What’s so funny huh?” He coos tickling his son on the side teasingly.

“Daddy just said a curse word.” Jiho covers his mouth shyly and looks at you. Your heart melts and you reach over to gently squeeze his chubby little cheek.

“Did he now baby? But remember what mommy said? Mommy doesn’t want you to end up like daddy love.” You side eye Jungkook with a nasty little glare before going back to Jiho with a soft smile, “C’mon, daddy said he’s taking you out today.” You kiss his cheek.

Jiho lights up in excitement, “Really daddy?!” He throws his arms around Jungkook’s neck and kicks his legs excitedly, “I can’t wait! I’m going to show you my new car collection daddy, it’s so cool I barely got it last week when mama and I went to the store.” He rambles on and on before he pauses, “You are coming over…right?” He quietly asks.

Jungkook nods, “Of course,” he says immediately, “you know I will champ.” He softly smiles and presses a kiss to his temple, “Daddy will always come over when you want.” This seems to satiate Jiho who goes back to his cheerful little rambles. It shouldn’t hurt you but this time it does, and you hate the bitter feeling it leaves in your mouth.

.

The day passes by and night time soon falls, Jiho of course asks Jungkook to put him to bed after hours of playing together. It warms your heart to see Jiho this happy with Jungkook, you wish it stayed like that..

“Hey babe,” Jungkook passes by behind you with a sneaky ass grab as he opens the fridge, “finally put Jiho down, little guy was out like a light.” He chuckles under his breath fondly.

You smile softly, “That’s my favorite part of the day, listening to him talk about the things he did and the new stuff he learns.. I wouldn’t miss it.” You turn the sink off and dry your hands, “Are you staying the night?” You raise a brow.

Jungkook nods, “Eh, I figured why the hell not. I don’t have anything to do tomorrow anyways.” He says and pops open a beer, “Plus I get to spend the night with my babies.” He winks at you.

You roll your eyes, “Of course.. Don’t you dare make a mess in my kitchen Jungkook.” You warn and walk off to the living room intending to watch some TV before bed. Jungkook trails after you like a lost puppy and you suppress a sigh, “What is it now?”

“Is it a crime to wanna be with you sweetheart? I’m sure you’d love some company right now.” Jungkook huffs and sits next to you on the couch with his arm thrown over your shoulders, “Aw c’mon sweetheart, don’t give me that look. Not after what went down this afternoon.” He buries his face in your shoulder and kisses it gently.

You sink into his arms and shoot him a glare, “Only reason I don’t kick you out is because Jiho’s gonna want to see you in the morning. If it were up to me your ass would be on the curb.” You grumble and pick up the remote, “And stop getting so close to me your breath stinks like beer.” You push his face away.

Jungkook’s shoulders shake as he laughs (obnoxiously in your opinion), “Fine, only cause you said so.” He says and gets up to head back into the kitchen. He re-emerges empty handed and in his wife beater tank top, his sweater is ditched and tossed to the side. “Better for you?” He holds his arms out.

“Yeah.” You turn back to the TV, “Now be quiet I’m trying to watch this.” You mumble.

Jungkook silently slips onto the couch right up beside you again. He slips his arm around and tugs you to his side with a quiet grunt. You grumble quietly and turn to face him as you push him back onto the couch and climb on top of him, “This is better..” You mutter softly and lay your head on his chest.

You don’t miss the way he smiles at you and hugs you closer, “Good night.” He says, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. He hears a faint ‘night’ and with that he lets his eyes slip shut as he falls asleep with a dumb little smile on his face.

“Idiot..” You whisper softly, surprised at how fond you sound at the moment, but he doesn’t have to know that.

+

A few days later you’re gone for work and Jungkook comes over to take care of Jiho. At first nothing too big happens, they play some games and then have breakfast before Jungkook takes Jiho out to the mall and then they come back to have lunch. Right now however Jiho was napping leaving Jungkook all by himself.

He takes one last look at Jiho before he slips outside for a needed smoke session. Jungkook always did like the view from your balcony, it gave him like a sense of peace and security whenever he sat out there smoking a cigarette. He really did feel at ease. He spends a couple minutes looking out at the sunset and city and then he checks his phone right after when he gets bored of that.

Jungkook’s in the middle of texting back Namjoon when he hears the doorbell ring. He frowns in confusion and looks back, you didn’t say anything about having anyone over or anything being delivered. He tucks the cigarette between his lips and makes his way over to the front door.

“y/n, hey! I was wondering if–” some guy standing on the other side of the door starts but quickly stops when he sees Jungkook standing in the doorway instead of y/n.

“Can I help you?” Jungkook leans against the doorway and eyes the guy up and down, “You lost or somethin’ kid?”

“Huh? Who are you? I’ve never seen you around before and y/n’s never talked about a guy before..” He trails off, eyeing Jungkook up and down too but only this time he doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for him. Jungkook’s aware of how he looks right now, and damn if he doesn’t look good.

“I’m y/n’s baby daddy, now who the fuck are you?” Jungkook snorts and takes a long drag from the cigarette, blowing the smoke in the dude’s face.

The dude looks at him with a glare, “I’m her friend and neighbor.”

“Neighbor huh, good then you don’t need to be around then. I don’t take too kindly to random ass men trying to hit on my girl like that, because we both know you see her more than a neighbor so do me a favor and turn your ass back around unless you wanna really get to know me.” Jungkook flicks the ashes at him, “Nice meeting ya.” He grins and slams the door in his face.

“Friend huh..” Jungkook chuckles.

It’s late when you finally arrive home, you make a quick stop to get the mail before heading up when you’re stopped by Hyunjin, your adorable but annoying neighbor, “Heyy, what’s up why you out so late?” You smile tiredly while sorting your mail out.

Hyunjin looks bothered as he looks off to the side, “Nothing, just needed some fresh air you know? Anyways that’s not what I’m here for, I didn’t know you were seeing someone?” He says softly and when he sees your confused face he continues, “That guy up there? The one with tattoos and shit? He’s rude as hell.”

You internally groan, what did he do now.. “Yeah? Well, I’m not seeing him–seeing him…technically..” You trail off before sighing in defeat, “He’s my baby daddy.”

“Ohh, I thought he was lying or something because I thought no way would you ever go with someone like him. Much less have a kid with him.” He shakes his head, “He’s seriously a bad influence though, he literally was smoking in the house like you know how bad that can be for Jiho?” Hyunjin scoffs and shakes his head, “The nerve of him to call himself a parent.”

“Listen kid, whatever the fuck he does is very much his and my business. I don’t need your two pennies of a fucking opinion on my baby daddy, yeah, that’s my child’s father and what about it? I must have seen something in him if I still went and fucked him and had his kid. So don’t you ever speak on him again unless you want me to call him downstairs you little shit.” You glare and storm off to the elevators leaving a shocked Hyunjin in the back.

“Fuckin’ nerve of this brat.” You mutter and get your keys out, “Seriously.”

You walk into the apartment and are immediately greeted with Jungkook sitting there with a pissed expression. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You ask as you kick your heels off, “Where’s Jiho?”

“He’s sleeping, had dinner and went to bed.” Jungkook stands up and makes his way over to you slowly, “Who the fuck was that kid that came knocking earlier?” He cups your chin and tilts your head to face him, “He the one you fucking or what?” He grits his teeth.

You stare back at him annoyed, “He’s some dumb ass college kid Jungkook, and no I’m not fucking him. As if..” You mutter the last part and walk to the bedroom, “If you’re just gonna bitch about him sleep on the couch I beg, I’m so fucking tired from work I just wanna sleep okay? Bitch at me another time.” You sigh.

Jungkook kicks the door shut behind him and comes up behind you to hug you, “Mm.. Just wanna help my lil’ mama relax is all,” he says in your ear, “I already knew you two weren’t fucking anyways, he makes it so obvious.” Jungkook smirks as he kisses your shoulder, reaching around the front to unbutton your blouse, “Still he fuckin’ pissed me off.” He growls.

“I know, trust me.” You smirk softly and turn around in his hold and wrap your arms around his neck, “You’ll help me relax won’t you?” You whisper against his lips.

“I’ll do more than that baby.” Jungkook grins back.

.

Jungkook has you spread out for him on all fours, back arched sensually and your face buried in your pillows. Sweat glistens on his forehead as he moans under his breath whilst moving his hips leisurely, not in any rush whatsoever. Your moans are muffled but the sounds your pussy makes make up for it.

“Fucking shit, you look so goddamn perfect for me all bent over with that pretty ass of yours bouncing on my cock.” Jungkook grunts as he slides his hands down to your waist to steady you.

“Jungkook,” you whimper out as you lift your head from the pillow, “need it faster.” You push back on his cock and gasp shakily when he hits something inside of you, “Oh fuck baby right there,” you whimper out, “mm, mm.”

He moans in response and lands a heavy smack on your ass, “Yeah? You like it when I hit it right there baby? ‘S got you creamin’ all over my cock right now.” He gasps softly as he speeds up and fucks into your harder.

You eyes flutter shut and you stick a hand down between your thighs to rub at your clit in tiny circles, “I love it,” you sigh out, “feels so good.” Jungkook spanks you again and it causes you to moan loud over the noises of his balls slapping against your clit and your ass bouncing off his pelvis. “Fuck..!”

Jungkook sees your phone light up from the corner of his eye and he peers over, he sees it’s that fucking kid from earlier texting you shit about how he’s sorry. Oh Jungkook’s gonna make him sorry now.. He grabs your phone and unlocks it, immediately opening up your camera and recording, “C’mon baby, put on a show for me.” He purrs out, making sure his tattooed hand is in the frame resting right over your bouncing ass.

You moan louder and lift yourself up enough to stabilize yourself before you start fucking yourself on his cock just how he likes it. “There you go, atta girl.” Jungkook lands repeated hits on your red ass cheek, licking his lips when he sees his hand print linger. “Whose pussy this belong to baby? Hm?”

“You,” a tiny whimper follows, “ ‘s your pussy baby.” You moan back as you rub your clit faster, “Fuck right there,” you push back and circle your hips on his cock like you’re trying to spell coconut. He moans loud as your pussy massages his cock just right, he nearly forgets he’s recording in the first place.

Jungkook ends the video there with a middle finger towards the end before he sends it to Hyunjin and tosses your phone aside, “C’mere.” He growls out and grabs your hips before he starts fucking into you harder and faster.

The headboard slams into the wall repeatedly, the sound of skin slapping grows louder and your moans are borderline screams now. You shudder violently and fall onto the bed face first as your pussy squirts, you lay there twitching and shaking as you come down from your orgasm slowly. Jungkook’s lips fall open in a silent moan as he watches in satisfaction.

He cums a few minutes later, pressing in deep as he groans lowly, “Damn I almost said I love you.” He breathlessly says. You reach behind to smack his arm making him laugh, “What? It’s true.” He shakes with laughter, “Aaaa you’re so cute baby.” Jungkook wipes the sweat off his brow and pulls out slowly, “Damn.” He murmurs, laying down next to you, “You okay?” He pokes your side.

You tiredly roll over and stare at him with a goofy little smile, “I almost said I love you too.” You softly reply.

Jungkook smiles, “y/n…my love, mother of my child,” he begins, “I’m sorry, but can you make me something to eat? You sucked the life out of me and now I’m starving.”

“I fucking take it back you dipshit.” You glare and roll out of bed, “.....What do you want..” You ask after shuffling around the room getting dressed in your robe.

“Ramen? Please and thank you.” Jungkook gives you that little bunny smile that made you fall in love all those years back. Maybe you’re falling all over again…

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie

DOJA CAT Attention (2023)

Angel | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Mafia!Yoongi x Sex worker! F. reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences. 

☾ Word Count: 15,551

☾ Genre: Semi-established relationship, mafia, smut, surprising amount of fluff

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Sex work and mentions of sex work, Yoongi and the reader are very confident in their relationship but also don’t want to ask for more, uses of the word whore negatively in some parts, vague references to dismemberment in an offhand conversation, intense action sequences, depictions of violence, reader is smacked around and kidnapped, depictions of injuries and pain, two sequences of detailed anxiety attacks, graphic depictions of blood, violent scene in which reader fights for her life and gores someone, depictions of murder/panicking while committing murder? Idk how to describe that one, mentions of nightmares/light reference to PTSD post-murder, explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (m. and f. receiving) light throat fucking, nipple play, ass play (f. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, Yoongi… almost doing a strip tease but it’s not as goofy as that it’s more sensual?? Yoongi is a little bit possessive at the end. 

☾ Published: September 3, 2023

☾ A/N: You voted for it, you got it! Introducing the fic that came out on top for the Hali’s Happy Agust Bracket Challenge! Thank you to everyone who voted during the entire month of August, I had such an amazing time seeing everyone yelling and voting and sharing and having fun with it. It means the world to me that you guys have fun and enjoy doing these kinds of things! Here is mafia Yoongi in all of his glory - I did try to keep it tame with the murder/violence/criminal side of it because there are things in this genre I’d like to table in later (most likely on Hali’s After Dark) but I hope that you enjoy this! Somehow it really turned into two people who are just !!! eternally confident in one another, despite their strange trades. Shout out to the hurricane and covid for FAILING TO STOP ME FROM WRITING THIS I’M A GOD (not really I am very tired but I did it osifjdoigj). This is mostly edited.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Angel Playlist

Yoongi would rather be anywhere else but the low lit, smoky club. The production team on the dancefloor below uses way too much cryogenic smoke for Yoongi’s taste, fogging the dancing bodies with thick clouds, the lasers reflecting off the smoke in dizzying patterns. From the VIP section, he isn’t choked by the haze, but he is choking on the cloying perfume of the woman in his lap.

She’s pretty enough, one of Kwan’s finest. No doubt trained from a very young age to please her employer’s most prestigious guests. Yoongi doesn’t touch her though, save for letting her sit on his lap, her hand cradling the back of his neck. She leans into his chest, her breath close to his ear as he watches Kwan consider Yoongi’s deal.

Yoongi doesn’t have to make the deal at all. Offering to become a minority owner of the club is a mercy, really. Yoongi could go after the investors who fronted the money when Kwan opened his business in the middle of the entertainment district, and he could wipe out the petty criminals pushing drugs in shadowy alcoves near the bathroom, damaging the cut that Kwan takes from them at the end of each night. 

Yoongi could even go as far as to sow chaos every night, sending in his followers to pick fights with the elite clientele, make it a nightmare for the celebrity clients and cities government officials who use the back rooms for more nefarious matters, exposing the underbelly of La Vie if he felt like it. 

Investments, Hoseok always insists. Investments, not enemies. They already hate that you’re taking a chunk of what they built - especially the seaside property.  Let’s try to play nice and show face. 

Forcing hands is exactly how Yoongi got to this position, sitting in a club and offering Kwan a rather generous deal: Kwan retains eighty percent of ownership, Yoongi becomes a twenty percent owner, the only person allowed to supply the club’s drugs, is paid for security services, and has access to the information funneled through those that work the private client rooms. He could just take it like he always has, and he still has half a mind to do. 

Men like Kwan who think they’re savvy in business and the nuances of the criminal enterprises that run the city make Yoongi’s lip curl. 

“These terms are bullshit, and I don’t have control of the back rooms.” Kwan looks up from the contract, glasses sliding down his nose. He’s a little bit older than Yoongi, and good looking. He has a traditionally handsome face that idols and actors like to get moderated to look like. He looks like new money though, with designer pieces that don’t quite match and a Patek watch that is flashy, but not coveted. “While it is under my jurisdiction, it is a handshake deal with Anya that she runs them the way she wants. They are her clients, not mine.” 

“Then Anya will have a handshake deal with me.” Kwan’s face darkens. Yoongi is tired of this. Is tired of the feeling of the girl’s hand stroking the hair at the base of his neck, is tired of the way she presses up against him, and is tired of Kwan’s dawdling.

“Take the weekend to think about it,” Yoongi insists and stands. The girl falls off him, letting out a surprised sound as she hits the booth. Yoongi adjusts his suit and frowns when he sees there is body glitter on it. He casts a harsh look at the girl who stares up at him with big eyes before turning back to Kwan. “There are no terms for negotiating. Thank you for the drinks and the entertainment. You’ll hear from me.”

Kwan’s face is red like the neon of Yoongi’s favorite motel when he walks out of the booth. Synth and base rattle the metal catwalk that makes up the VIP section, overlooking the dancefloor. Seokjin slides into step with Yoongi as he goes, an imposing shadow as they circumnavigate the walkway. 

It’s loud and raucous when they get to the dance floor. Members of the security team watch Yoongi as he goes, their eyes alert. He pays them little attention, just like the gazes of the people dancing in the ground when they catch sight of him.

Sometimes, Yoongi feels a little bit like a myth in moments like this. Out in public, Yoongi is an astutely dressed man who speaks quietly and says very few words. He wears nice but not gaudy jewelry, and he always styles his long hair slicked back, showing off the faded, red scar over his eye. What Yoongi lacks in height, he makes up for in omnipresent stares and quick reactions.

Everyone in the city knows exactly who Min Yoongi is, and they know that he doesn’t make threats. He simply acts. 

Outside, rain falls from the inky sky. Hoseok leans against the brick wall under the awning, clove-tinged smoke drifting from the cigarette jammed between his lips. When he sees Yoongi, Hoseok pushes off the wall and adjusts his suit jacket. Where Seokjin looks tall, dark and imposing, Hoseok is wiry and sharp, dressed in all white, looking pristine as he raises his eyebrows at Yoongi in question. Yoongi nods towards the idling SUV as an answer. 

They don’t bother with an umbrella. Yoongi ducks his head down as he quickly walks across the pavement and into the car. The interior is moderately cool in the SUV. He takes a seat in the middle, Seokjin sitting alone in the row behind him and Hoseok to his right. 

Outside of the rainy window, the world turns into a smear of wet neon. Checking his watch, Yoongi notes that it’s just past midnight. If he hurries, he can stop by the Red before he goes home for the evening. If he goes home for the evening, at that point. The thought of sinking into sheets that smell like almond and cinnamon ease him. 

“So?” Hoseok flicks through his phone, face lit up blue by the screen. He looks hauntingly beautiful, all edges and sharp lines. “Deal or no deal?”

“Giving him the weekend to think about it.” Hoseok sighs. “He thinks it’s a bad deal for him because it it is, and he’s stuck on the operation Anya runs in the back rooms. He doesn’t want to lose that connection to her. She feeds him information for his extortion of city officials.”

“How else would he have cleared that permit near the docks to build,” Seokjin mutters. Yoongi casts a glance into the back seat where Seokjin sullenly stares out of the window. “Fucker is sticking his nose in a district he has no rights to. At least we had the means to get that operation cancelled.” 

“Yeah, and it’s part of why he doesn’t want to deal with us,” Hoseok says. “Even so, offering the deal is the right move. If he doesn’t take it, crush him like a fucking bug. He’s an intelligent businessman, it’s no surprise that he’s going to try and find a way around you. He might sniff around or try and fuck up some assets.”

“Hobi, you better fucking hope he doesn’t go to that fucker Seo.”

“He doesn’t have the balls. Seo Changbin is unhinged and volatile. He’s more likely to send Kwan to his family in chainsawed pieces.” 

Yoongi grunts, amused. “Bang has kept him under control as of late. Seokjin, have Jungkook look into getting some people in there. I’m not interested in them linking up as permanent partners.” 

A headache presses against Yoongi’s temples. He doesn’t care to debate politics and machinations with Hoseok and Seokjin. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the headrest, letting their discussion fall to a dull sound. 

Yoongi feels like he’s bleeding at the edges, the color of him spilling out of neat lines and all over the pages. His empire is growing faster than he can keep up with, he’s playing politics more than he’s playing the savvy gangster, and the more capital he gains, the more of himself he loses.

When Yoongi had started to climb the ladder of crime and chaos, he didn’t know where it would lead him. An early grave, perhaps. But Yoongi has always been smart and knows how to pick his battles, knows how to innovate. He is not the most inspiring man to lead people in the underbelly of the city, but he does know what he’s talking about and he’s good at guessing what people want most.

People, he’s discovered, all want the same thing, whether they’re at the bottom rung or the top. 

The boy he once was wouldn’t recognize him. The new Yoongi wears designer suits, the carefully curated art collections in the opulent halls of his home, the shaking hands with political figures to help install certain assurances within the city. There are more officials that line Yoongi’s pocket than there are gangs in the city, but it’s a weapon he wields well. 

Old Yoongi might not be so impressed. 

Yoongi feels the phantom ache of the scar on his eye. It doesn’t matter what old Yoongi wants, though. This new version of him is doing whatever he needs to live another day and to install another brick in his kingdom. 

The driver drops Yoongi off at home. Tall gates with security cameras and guard house at the entrance keeps almost everyone away from the Min estate. There’s been a few idiots here or there who have climbed the walls and met the three lovely dobermans that roam the property freely. 

Erebus catches Yoongi’s eyes as he walks to the large garage. The eldest of Yoongi’s canines sits and watches Yoongi approach with keen, dark eyes. He grins at the dog, whistling lowly. Erebus stands and joins Yoongi on his way to the side door, jamming in a code to the garage.

Inside, the automatic lights flip on. Yoongi squints from the harsh lighting, closing the door behind him. Rows of vehicles gleam under the fluorescents. Sports cars, old collectibles, sturdy SUVs. Yoongi has an armada at his disposal, though he so rarely drives himself anywhere these days. Not after Seo put a hit on him a few months ago, the insane fuck. 

Yoongi pulls the tie loose from his neck and begins to change. He presses his finger on a thumb-print lock to a wardrobe and pops it open. Inside are casual clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, a riding jacket, boots and a gleaming black helmet. Nondescript clothes that can belong to anyone. 

Every movement feels heavy. He should go upstairs and swallow down something to help him knockout, but he doesn’t. Instead, he finishes going through the motions and tosses the worn clothes in the wardrobe and walks over to the parked H2R in, all sleek, black metal. 

Erebus sniffs Yoongi’s knee once, a sort of send off. Yoongi bends down and kisses the doberman on the head before shooing him, sending the dog through the garage and up the stairs that lead to the main house. 

Instead of starting the bike in the garage and peeling out the front of the home, Yoongi pops the kickstand up and walks it out of the side door, careful not to bang the tailpipe on the door or scrape the shiny black paint. Once outside, he walks it through the entire yard, arms aching a little as he keeps the bike balanced. 

Gravel crunches beneath his boots and the tires of the motorcycle. Crickets chirp in the yard until he makes it to the back gate in his home that opens up to a government only street. Being back-to-back with the minister has its perks, like an extra security measure that he doesn’t have to monitor constantly. 

Swinging his leg over the bike, Yoongi slides the helmet on, turns the key, and presses the on switch. It roars to life, vibrating underneath him. He revs it a few times before he pulls back on the throttle and shoots down the street like a bullet from a gun.

Iron gates, walls and security houses blur past him. He lives among the gods of the city, high up over the glittering lights and those who pay pilgrimage to the political, criminal and tech giants who loom over them. Yoongi was one of them not that long ago, rising faster than he could have thought possible.

Still, he descends often. Nightly, even. Like even the most powerful gods, Yoongi’s weakness is a vice he can’t - doesn’t want to - rid himself from. While he doesn’t think of himself as impervious, Yoongi doesn’t have many weaknesses. 

His biggest one, though, spends most days at the Red with a private suite in the luxury pleasure house disguised as a motel. 

Yoongi parks his bike in a secured garage that he has a paid spot in. The payment for it is discrete and in all cash, one of Yoongi’s several attempts at covering his tracks when he visits.

The garage is still a few blocks away from the Red. He tucks his hands into his pocket, enjoying the balmy evening, rain still clinging to the air though not falling now. This late at night, there aren’t many people out. Cars drive by, tires hissing on the wet road. Neon lights burn above fluorescent-lit windows of small food shops. 

At the end of a dead end street, a red motel sign buzzes against the night sky. The non-descript brick building doesn’t look like much, but Yoongi knows better than most. Instead of approaching the front door, he leans against the wall a few shops down, tucked underneath the shadow of an awning. 

Pulling his phone out, he dials and brings it up to his ear. As the phone rings, he looks up at the four-story building. There are windows with dark curtains pulled shut and never opened. Yoongi knows that the glass looks ordinary, but is bullet proof grade to protect the most private of clients. 

It doesn’t look like much. The brick is old, it’s bracketed by a laundromat and a hardware store, and across the street is a noodle shop and boarded up general store. 

“It’s late,” you answer, voice scratchy. Yoongi nearly shivers at the sound of your voice, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in the rain-tinged night. “What’s a girl to do when a boy calls her this late, hmm?”

“Let said boy upstairs and out of the rain.”

“Hmm.” You don’t say yes, but Yoongi can hear the rustle of sheets and the soft creak of the bed when you get up. He waits in silence, though he imagines you’re walking across the bedroom to head to the main part of the state room. “It’s not even raining anymore, I bet.”

“It is. I’m soaked to the bone. Freezing. I might catch a cold.”

“Whatever shall we do?”

He grins, ducking his head. He can feel the warmth climb up his neck to his face, shaking his head. Only you can get him like this, heart skipping like he’s in grade school making out with someone behind the bleachers for the first time. 

“Come on,” you tease on the other line. “Your door will be open.”

“Thanks, Angel.”

“Mhmm.”

His door isn’t really his. But it is a private access door in the back of the alley that requires a keycard and has an armed guard sitting in a security room next to the entry way on the inside. Yoongi hangs up the phone and heads to the special door, avoiding the puddles dripping from fire escapes. 

Just as Yoongi reaches the heavy door, he hears the beep of the auto-lock and it swings open with you leaning on the frame. He wants to eat you whole. You’re not in work clothes, meaning you either wrapped up a while ago or didn’t work tonight. He doesn’t want to know so he doesn’t ask, instead walking up to you as you step to the side and let him in. 

Glowing light flickers underneath the security door to the left. You close the door behind you and pass him, letting your fingers grab his hand and link fingers. There are security cameras here, but it’ll look normal, with you pulling him through the halls and to the elevator. Touching is very much permitted here. Encouraged. Required. 

In the elevator, you stand by Yoongi. He leans into you, silent. You squeeze his hand, very small in his, but warm enough to soothe him. You smell faintly almond and cinnamon, making him go wild as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You giggle, leaning into him fully, arm pressed to arm. 

Perhaps it’s stupid to be so open like this. When Yoongi first started coming here, he was still and awkward, never coming too close, never letting himself be too familiar. Now, the need for you is too strong. He doesn’t care if there’s a camera on him watching him melt into you. He doesn’t care if maybe it shows that this is a little more than money, a little more than just a quick fix.

Yoongi has been coming to you for almost three years. He doesn’t remember when it stopped being about sex, but it hasn’t been that way for a while. At first, he thought it was so silly. Mafia man in love with a woman he pays to have sex with him. Except it wasn’t so silly. You’d long stopped considering him a client and insisting he doesn’t pay you. 

He doesn’t dare. He doesn’t know what money you make from clients. He knows that it has to be good to be at the Red, which specializes in top clientele. He knows it has to be great, even, because you always meet on your terms. In this space. 

He also doesn’t dare to ask you to stop. He doesn’t know how many clients you take, or who. He doesn’t know when, he doesn’t know how often. He knows nothing about your work except that he doesn’t ask you to stop and you don’t ask him if he wants you too. 

It’s an unspoken rule between you. Yoongi is too afraid to ask you to come live with him, and perhaps you’re too afraid to ask him to take you. Whatever the reasons, neither one of you is brave enough to cross the line first. So instead, you dance along it, making whatever this is work. 

Inside the stateroom is clean and smells like expensive candles. The room is luxurious and is exclusively yours. A cut of your earnings go to holding the room, just like the rest of the workers in the other rooms. 

With the door firmly locked behind the two of you, Yoongi heads to the open kitchen and leans against the counter, facing you. You kick off your slippers and turn to face him, half shadowed by the darkness of the hall, half lit by the warm salt lamp in the living room. 

Yoongi drags his eyes up and down your frame. Soft curves, gentle lips, kind eyes. He was gone the first time he saw you, and he’s gone now. Even after all this time. 

“What?” you ask, fingers fidgeting with your t-shirt. He thinks it might be one of his, but he might be imagining it.

“Come here,” he instructs, patting his thigh. 

You grin and approach him. He opens his arms for you and he sighs as you press against him. Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing him tight. Slotting your head between his shoulder and neck, you hide your face against him, breath warm against his throat. He envelops you in his arms, wrapped around your shoulders and draped down your back. 

Almond fills his senses. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing you in. You don’t say anything, content to sag against him in the low light of the room. This is what he comes here for more than anything. Everything else you offer is secondary. His foremost desire is this - you. 

“Everything okay?” you finally ask, because of course you do.

“Mhmm. Just a long night.”

“You smell like perfume.”

“Hmm?”

“Like peaches.”

He opens his eyes and looks down at you. You crane your head so that you’re peering up at him with one eye, brow arched. His mouth twitches. “Jealous?”

“Maybe.” 

“Interesting.”

“Not particularly.” 

He lowers his arms, letting them drape around your waist. He smacks the round of  your ass a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to make you pout. “We really going to get into the mechanics of this right now?”

Your smile is all he needs to know you’re not serious. At least, not enough to do something about it. “No, but it’s fun to tease you.” 

“Perhaps I should tease you back, then.” 

Hand in hand, you lead him to your room. Yoongi sees the white sheets and grins. White sheets are for him. Grey sheets are for clients, something you’d established in the infancy of whatever this relationship is. He appreciates the little layers of how you make things different for him. You make him feel special - and not the kind that he pays for. 

Falling backward into the bed, you look up at him with those fucking eyes that make him week in the knees. It’s dark in the room but he knows it well, standing at the foot of your bed and reaching down to snatch an ankle and pull you a bit closer. You squeal as he does, making a jolt of joy go through him, grinning. 

“How was your day?” he asks, lifting your foot to rest on his shoulder. He presses an innocent kiss to your ankle and he watches your brows furrow. “What?”

“Are you a foot person?”

“What if I was?”

You shrug a shoulder, watch him trail kisses down your calf. He nips the meat of your leg, an innocent bite but one that makes your leg twitch. “I’d say I’m surprised to learn something new about you after three years.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi lowers himself so that he’s on his knees, the carpet pressing into his slacks. The back of your knee fits perfectly over his shoulder, your leg resting along his back. You lean up on your elbows and look down at him, watching him settle between your legs. “Think you know everything about me, huh?”

Yoongi’s hands feel your warm skin. He marvels at the softness of your thighs, stroking his hands back and forth. Looking at you, he raises his brow in question. You’re too distracted by the feeling of his hands. It stirs something in him, and he cruves his fingers, dragging his blunt nails softly against your skin.

“Feels good,” you mumble, half-lidded. “I do know everything about you, Min Yoongi.”

“That so?”

“Yes. I could eat your heart if I wanted to.”

Yoongi’s stomach flips at how right you are, at how much you know it. Your confidence in his feelings never fails to make him feel like he is cut open and laid bare at your feet, waiting for you to step on him. To make him regret that vulnerability. 

You never do. At every turn, you’ve shown him that you won’t take advantage. That you have no desire to use the fact that one of the most powerful men in the city is in the palm of your hand. Power for the taking. You could wield him like a weapon, he thinks, and yet you don’t. All you want from him is for him to speak freely, to kiss you often, and to hold you tightly. 

So he does. 

Yoongi presses kisses up the softness of your thighs. You drop from your elbows to lay flat on your back again, your breath catching. He watches raptly at the rise and fall of your chest as you gasp a little. He knows exactly what you like, reaching for your sleep shorts to pull them off slowly. 

Tonight, he has nowhere else to go. Neither do you, letting him lean further up between your legs to press wet, open-mouthed kisses against your hips. You squirm a little, sensitive in the hip area. He loves it - would die for it - letting his tongue slip between his teeth to lave over your hot skin to soothe stinging flesh where he’s nipped you. 

His hands are familiar with every dimple in your skin and every curve. He traces them as he pulls your shorts down, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear as he does. He throws them on the floor, hands settling on the inside of your knees as he presses you open, dropping his eyes to your wet folds. 

Yoongi groans. You’re always so eager for him. That’s never been an illusion, the way your cunt drips slowly down to the curve of your ass at the most innocent of touches from him. It fuels Yoongi’s ego, knowing he has this effect on you. Knowing he’s the only one who can get you trembling in anticipation just by kissing the inside of your knees. 

He made the mistake only once asking if you ever get off with your other clients. The flash of anger and irritation had never made him ask again, but you at least gave him an answer: no. 

Thinking back on it now, Yoongi doesn’t know why he asked. He doesn’t care who you have before or between. All he cares about is being in the darkness of this room, your scent heady, his head shadowed between your legs. 

Leaning forward, Yoongi drags the flat of his tongue up your cunt slowly. You let out a moan and he hums, closing his eyes. He’s been craving your sweet tang all day, the tip of his tongue lingering just under your clit before he drags around it, missing your bundle of nerves on purpose. You let out a sound but he grins, removing his tongue to return to tracing sloppy kisses on your legs instead. 

Already lightheaded, he grounds himself by sliding his hands along the outside of your thighs, gripping you here and there as he lavishes you with attention. He knows he’s tired, but he at least wants this. Wants to taste you before bed, to have you melt in his mouth, fingers in his hair. He needs it. 

Yoongi doesn’t dip into the drugs that his operation injects into the streets. He doesn’t need to. There’s nothing that makes him forget who and where he is the way you do. Nothing that amounts to feeling your soft skin beneath his palms, smelling the barest hint of sweat beneath your vanilla perfume.

When Yoongi gets a taste of you, it’s an instant high. He feels lost, hands skimming up your thighs to hold your hips to the bed. Your hands seek his, linking your fingers and pressing your joined hands to your hips as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh.

This is why he keeps coming back. The intimacy. The reassurance that this is something more than an accident that Yoongi stumbled on a few years ago. That this is more than the roll of bills he will leave on the nightstand tonight, even when you say not to. 

There is nothing else he needs in these stolen moments with you. 

“Yoongi,” you murmur, voice soft. He hums in response. “Please, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Good,” he shoots back, biting your knee. You twitch and curse at him, making him laugh. Your glossy cunt is a sure sign that you’re not lying, though. Clit swollen, hole clenching. “Fuck, you have such a wet pussy.” 

“Then put your fucking mouth on it, Yoongi.” 

He laughs. “As you wish, Angel.” 

A breathy whine in the shape of Yoongi’s name leaves your mouth when he starts to eat you out properly. He takes his time, eyes closed as he indulges, tongue rolling up and down your slick pussy. You turn liquid in his mouth, your hips canting as he flicks his tongue across your clit. You shiver in his hands and he grins, gently sucking your clit into his mouth. 

“Yeah,” you pant. “Fuck, like that.” 

Alternating between fastening his mouth on your pussy to suck gently and sliding his tongue into your hole, Yoongi goes with what he knows makes you a mess. Holds out his tongue and lets you fuck yourself against his face, your hand coming to grip his long hair. 

The wet slide of you against his face makes him ache in his pants. He ignores it, determined to hold you still as he buries his face in deeper, picking up the firmness and pace of his mouth and tongue. He feels your essence drip down his chin and his neck. Hears the squelch when he thrusts his tongues into your pussy. Can’t get enough of the way your thighs close around his head, muffling the sound of you whining and saying his name.

Yoongi’s scalp stings when you pull his hair. He doesn’t care. He whips his head back and forth between your legs, tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. You’re shaking underneath him and he pushes you further, dipping low to slurp at your pussy bottom to top, not letting an ounce of you spill out. 

“Holy fuck,” you squeak, voice high-pitched as you arch off the bed. He looks up at you, mouth attached. “Your fucking mouth.” 

He grins, and leans into you further, pushes your thighs higher. Your legs bend easily under his weight. His hips are pressed against the foot of the bed now, hips rolling slightly, seeking for friction. His eyes close as he gets the barest bit of friction against his cock, more focused on making you come into his mouth than getting himself off.

When you come, your whole body goes taut. Yoongi holds you tight in his hands, mouth moving against you messily as he licks you through your orgasm. You dissolve in his mouth, making him hum against your heat. You twist in the sheets, body twitching, muscles flexing. He avoids your clit, thrusting his tongue into your entrance until you’re gasping for air, hands pressing against his head to get him to stop.

Yoongi removes his mouth with one, lascivious lick. He sits backwards on his feet, panting as he looks at you melt into the bed. Your limbs are lifeless and tangled in the blankets, your hand over your eyes as you catch your breath. You look fucking beautiful. 

“Come here,” you rasp, voice rough. 

The bed creaks under Yoongi’s weight. He walks over on his knees, drinking you in. Your cum slicks your thighs, shining in the barest shaft of light escaping the bathroom from a nightlight. You turn to face him, face balmy with sweat. You reach up and work the zipper on his pants, making his stomach flip.

“You don’t-”

“Shut up,” you growl, tugging the metal down hard. He smirks as you press your fingers into his hard shaft through the cotton of his briefs. “Wanna feel your cock in my throat. Can you fuck my mouth?” 

“Fuck yeah, Angel.” 

Yoongi nearly falls getting out of his pants. You laugh, the sound so sweet that he feels himself blush. He’s hot all over, coming alive in the darkness of your room as he strokes his cock. You look innocent, splayed on the bed and blinking up at him. 

Precum drips from his dark tip and you open your mouth, tongue catching it. He curses under his breath, entranced by the way your tongue disappears between your lips. You hum, a glint in your eye as you smirk at him. 

“Vixen,” he says, shaking his head.

“Give it to me.”

One day he thinks he’s going to die of loving you. He knows that this is what it is. It’s more than you opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for him. It’s more than him letting you suckle on the tip of his cock playfully, his eyes fluttering shut and his thigh muscles twitching. 

Yoongi loves you. It is an incredibly simple fact in his over-complicated world. Among all of the shit and the moves and countermoves he deals with every day, coming here to simply be in love with you is a relief. A home. 

A shiver crawls up his back as he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth is wet and warm, your tongue rough on the sensitive underside of his shaft. He keeps one hand on the base of his cock and the other on your jaw, keeping your mouth open to make the slide easier. 

Everything fades away again. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath as you open up for him. When he touches the back of your throat, he’s careful at first. He knows you can take it. You’ve taken so much more from him, gone so much harder. He doesn’t want to go hard tonight though. He feels soft at the edges, your taste lingering in his mouth.

The wet sound of your throat convulsing around him making him stroke faster. He knows you’re okay, breathing heavily through your nose as you gurgle around him, spit and precum slicking his shaft as he pulls in and out, marveling at the way you look at him, eyes watering.

Your eyes fix on him. Yoongi clenches his teeth, trying not to burst in your mouth. It’s hard when you look at him like that, gaze so dark and hungry and fathomless. You’ve never said you love him. You don’t have to. He knows. He knows in the same way he is aware you know he loves you. He knows enough to trust you with him. With everything. 

There’s not a single doubt with you. It is a rare gift to share this open trust with someone, especially in his position. It is an added bonus that you know he loves it when you swallow around his cock as he presses into the back of your throat. The tight heat of your throat constricting around him does him in, and Yoongi comes with a growl.

You take it in stride, gulping. Taking it down. His eyes roll back in his head and he thinks that if he didn’t love you already, this alone would make him fall in love. 

Pulling out his softening cock, he falls backward on the bed. He’s still in the top half of his clothes, but he is exhausted, lashes fluttering. Your hands are delicate as you begin to pull the jacket from his body. He rolls to the side and lets you, lost in the daze of a much needed orgasm. He feels at ease now, more than he has all day. 

“Come on,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the spot under his ear. “Take a quick shower while I change the sheets, they’re sweaty. And I came on them.”

“I’d sleep in them anyway.”

“Hmm, too bad. Shower.”

“Meh.”

“Yoongi, you smell like a whore.” That makes him crack an eye and look at you. Your gaze is pointed. “And not like me. I don’t like it.”

“Huh. So you are jealous.”

“Get in the shower.” Your mouth twitches as you try to fight a smile. “Or else.” 

-

Getting up before the sun is your favorite thing. Even now, when you’re tired from being woken up in the middle of the night, you make an effort to crawl out of bed to make coffee. Your steps are heavy and you shiver in the freezing air of the kitchen as you open a drawer and pull out a coffee pod. You hold it up close to make sure you’ve got Yoongi’s favorite brand before sticking it in the machine and popping the lid down, punching the button to brew.

Yoongi is a sleeping mound in your bed. Leaning against the counter, you admire him from afar. He’ll be up soon, your body clock tuned to the hours of his operation. It’s been that way for over a year now, your circadian rhythm trained to be the most functional during the hours in which Yoongi is awake. 

When you were younger, you would have hated to admit that. Would have detested the thought of ever adjusting a single part of yourself for a man. Your entire job was to be moldable. To put on whatever face your client needed, to shape yourself into whatever person that you needed to be. 

You have been so many things. A wife. A mistress. A temptress. A lost loved one. And darker things still, sliding on the skin of client’s fantasies over-and-over again until you lost the substance that made up whoever you were for hours at a time. 

Back then, it would take hours and days to regain who you were. It wasn’t until you were more advanced that you were able to separate who you are from who you pretended to be. Now, it’s not necessarily. There is no other, no mask. Just you and Yoongi, the single client you decided was worth being moldable for.

The smell of coffee wakes him up before his alarm. You watch him sit up in bed, eyes not yet open. His hand spreads to where he expects to find you, only to discover open space. He swivels back and forth then, looking for you. Maybe a little panicked.

A pang aches your heart. It is so easy to forget that even after years of getting up before him first, Yoongi will never be trained out of the instinct that something of his has been taken. The day he doesn’t worry is the day he’ll lose everything and you know it.

“I’m over here,” you call gently. He relaxes and pulls himself together before getting out of bed and trudging out of the room.

Yoongi is pretty in the morning. His face is swollen with sleep, making him look so much younger. Like a dumpling, even. His mouth is fixed in a pout as he rubs at his eyes, steps uneven and dark hair sticking up all over the place. He looks at you, eyes glassy. The faded pink scar over his eye is less intimidating in the morning. You grin and open your arms. His reaction is automatic, sliding between them and sinking into your embrace, head thudding to your shoulder. 

“Hi,” you purr, your hands squeezing around his middle. His shirt is soft in your fingers as you play with the hem. He grunts back, not much of a morning person. You don’t mind. Instead, you let him lay his weight on you, unwilling to move even as the coffee finishes brewing. He smells like sage shampoo and something more unique to him. “You okay, sleepyhead?”

“Mhmm.”

“Can’t talk yet?” he shakes his head against you and you laugh. “Come on, coffee.” 

With Yoongi latched on to you, you walk over to the coffee maker. You giggle, elated as he clings to your front, letting you move him backwards. With his butt pressed against the counter and arms wrapped around you, you lean around him to grab the steaming mug and bring it in front of him.

Pouting, he drops his hands from you and takes it. 

Years of mornings and carefully pulling back layers of Yoongi has earned this rare silliness between you. You’re acutely aware of the fact that the sleepy man in front of you, no matter how soft and blushing he is in the mornings, is a murderer. He’s extorted people, has threatened them, sits at the top of drug trade, and has pushed people into political office with dirty money and blood. Your eyes linger on his scar, a memento of his violent youth. 

You don’t care. It doesn’t matter what Yoongi is and is not. All that matters to you is that he is Yoongi and that he is yours. At least, yours in the way it matters. You don’t dare ask him for more than what you have. It is the one thing you’re afraid of, because even though you know that he loves you, that you know he trusts you, asking for more is something you don’t want to do. Too many people want more of him. You just want whatever you can have. 

As he sips his coffee, careful not to let it spill over and burn you while you bury yourself in snuggling him, you close your eyes. A couple of years ago, you didn’t think a life like this was possible. Getting in at the Red was the first step in the right direction. Though still for sex workers, it was an upper level platform in the industry you clawed your way to. 

Both of you are similar in that regard. Yoongi started from nothing. A poor boy who dropped out of school to work a job and help pay rent at his apartment, too uneducated with not enough resources to make a dent in the world. It was the same story for you, though perhaps a little bloody around the edges, a hand that started selling you before you could make the choice yourself. 

At the thought of your mother, you feel your jaw clench. The bite of the memory is only soothed by the knowledge of Yoongi putting her down himself. Perhaps it makes you a monster, but you’ve accepted that long ago you were what the world crafted you to be, and you wouldn’t apologize.

If you were Yoongi’s shield, he was your sword. You protected him from the weight of his atrocities, and he slayed your monsters. 

It’s what drew Yoongi to you in the first place, the unapologetic approach to life. You appreciate it in him too. He doesn’t try to pretend that he is more or less than what he is, and you never try to hide the ugly parts of yourself. 

And here he is anyway, coffee-warm lips pressed against your forehead. It almost makes you ask for more, but you don’t. This is enough for now. 

The room at the Red isn’t where you live, but it’s yours in everything except lease. You long stopped using it for its intended purposes, now pleased to use it as a neutral ground to meet Yoongi and to stay where you know he is safe. His sprawling estate under guard and gun is surely safe enough, but you like having Yoongi where you can see him. 

After a mostly innocent shower together, Yoongi gets dressed and kisses you goodbye after you walk him down. It’s still dark outside when you swipe your security key. He puts on his biker helmet and gives you a little salute before jogging down the alleyway, splashing into the morning and vanishing around a corner. 

You linger for a moment, watching the empty space where he vanished. It would be nicer to be somewhere you didn’t have to escort him out. Somewhere you could be together all the time. You don’t think Yoongi would say no if you invited him over to your apartment, but you don’t have the security and the heavy protection that the Red offers. 

Collecting your things, you scribble a note for the cleaner before heading out. You’ll only return to the room if Yoongi intends on swinging by again. Though it is more than a suitable place to spend all your time, you like your small apartment tucked downtown above a coffee shop. It has a hominess that feels more like you. That is a little less sterile. 

Sun cracks over the city, spilling light like yolk over the buildings. You shield your eyes as you make your way down the sidewalk, shafts of light falling between buildings. The subway is full of people heading to work. Everyone shuffles without speaking, some buttoning collars of uniforms while others close their eyes in seats, headphones snug over their head. 

The lull of the train as it starts makes you drowsy, but you fight to stay awake. Now that you don’t spend hours sleeping in and recovering from servicing clients late into the night, you value your mornings. Want to be the kind of person whose business hours are during the day, to feel the sun on your skin. 

At your stop, you disappear in the flow of people going up the steps. The concrete above is still wet from the rain the night before, your steps tapping wetly as you go. It’s still summer, but the wind in the shade is cool as you enter the parking garage of your building, heading toward the elevator. 

It’s mostly empty, people having left for work already. There’s a single black SUV by the elevator that you don’t recognize, the windows too dark to see inside. As you approach the car, you realize that it’s on, idling quietly. 

Years of living in the wrong part of town have you slowing your steps. Your eyes flicker to the plate to see a metal shield over it, hiding the numbers on the vehicle. The back of your neck tingles. You come to a full stop, staring at the running vehicle. No one makes a move to get out and there’s no indication that someone is inside.

While you don’t live in the luxurious part of town, your neighborhood is relatively safe. It’s not without instances, but you live deep into Yoongi’s territory, his foothold on this block strong. You’ve never had to worry about walking down the road by yourself at night or making it to your apartment when drunk.

Now, you’re worried. Instinct needles you sharply. There is no reason to think the SUV means you any harm, but something is screaming at you to walk away. 

Then the elevator opens and a normal looking man and woman exit. They don’t pay you any mind as they get into the vehicle, shutting the back door. Your nerves ease and you laugh at yourself for being so ridiculous. There’s no reason for anyone to be doing something nefarious this early in the morning. 

Shaking yourself out of it, you walk the rest of the way to the elevator. As you reach your hand to press the button to call the elevator car, you hear the sound of the car doors opening. You whip your head to look over your shoulder as men get out of the passenger seat and the back seat.

Instinct kicks in. You turn and run, screaming shrilly for anyone that can hear you. They take off after you, steps thundering against the pavement as the SUV squeals its tires to back out of the spot and peel after you. There’s nowhere to go but out into the street. You head for the sidewalk only to be snatched from behind and lifted off your feet.

You react immediately. You throw your elbow back, connecting to one of the men’s faces. He screams and you hear bones crunch. He drops you but your knees buckle, a mix of fear and lack of coordination making you fall to the ground. The other man is on top of you, pressing you into the ground as you scream savagely, kicking your limbs to wiggle out of his grip. 

He grabs your hair and pulls. You yell out, eyes smarting from the sting in your scalp as he then shoves your face into the ground. It hurts. Pain blooms in the side of your face. You’re aware of tiny pieces of gravel digging into soft skin, cutting up your face. The sting is small in comparison to the throb that pulses through your cheekbone as he grinds your face into the pavement. 

Screams echo in the garage as you’re yanked backwards. There are several hands on you, grip like iron. You snarl and yank your limbs to no avail. Just as you’re pulled into the interior of the car, a piece of cloth is slapped hard against your face. You gasp in surprise, a pungent smell filling your nose before you feel a swift fog take over, your mind fading until there is nothing left. 

-

Pain. It’s the first thing you feel when you come to. It’s a slow sort of drift toward awareness, like sluggishly swimming to the surface of a deep lake. You manage to drag yourself there, but immediately want to sink back into the nothingness again once you feel how much you hurt. 

Your face perhaps hurts the most. Not only does your skin burn, but it feels like you’ve been rocked with a cinderblock on the left side of your face. You dully recall having your head pressed into the concrete with near bone-breaking force. It explains why when you open your eyes, the left feels a little swollen. 

The room you’re in is empty. Your shoulder muscles are on fire, hands tied behind your back in the chair you’re sitting in. It’s hard to pinpoint what hurts worse, body littered with bruises and injuries. Still, you’re alive and that has to count for something. 

A man leans against the wall across from you. He watches you curiously. When you become aware of him, you straighten a little in the seat. Your ass tingles with the numbness of sitting there for who knows how long, and your biceps strain with the movement, making you hiss. 

“I’d like to untie you,” the man offers. “But I need a guarantee that you’ll behave.”

You want out of the ropes, so you nod your head. He nods once and pushes off the wall, walking over to you. You use the nearness of his proximity to gather as many details as you can: Patek watch, a basic model. He smells like mandarin and something spicy like pepper - maybe an Arabian fragrance. The suit he’s in is well-tailored and when he pulls a knife out of his pocket to cut the ropes around your wrist, you see a mother-of-pearl handle. 

Money. This man has money. 

Relief makes you sigh, melting into the chair when the pressure in your shoulder blades releases. You immediately lift your hands and place them into your lap, rubbing your trembling fingers across your palms, pressing firmly to encourage blood flow. Your handles tingle as the circulation begins to return to normal, though you can’t make a fist or move all of your appendages immediately. 

The man backs away and leans against the wall once more. He’s incredibly handsome, the kind of guy who might be an actor or in the movie industry, perhaps. You continue to assess him, placing him a few years older than yourself. His hands are linked in front of him. No marriage ring, no tan to indicate there was once a band there either. 

The expensive cologne matched with the watch leads you to believe someone else picked them out, which leaves you with two options: a lover or a sales associate. Judging the make of the watch, you know it doesn’t look like a limited edition series, so not a very personal gift, if a gift at all. And while the cologne smells expensive, it’s too spicy for a day scent, indicating that he doesn’t have someone to tell him the difference between night and daytime colognes.

If you have to guess, they’re things he’s purchased himself on the advice of a sales associate or because of the amount of numbers on the price tag. It’s a habit that comes with new money.

“I apologize for the roughness,” he offers. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”

“Intent matters little. Results matter a lot.”

“Well said.”

Feeling starts to come back to your hands as you flex them. You’re in some sort of construction building. It looks like maybe an apartment building in the making, with plastic tarps covering the windows and metal scaffolding exposing unfinished concrete. Outside, you think you faintly hear the sound of docks and workers.

“Do you know where we are?”

You look him up and down. “We’re in a building. You’re against a wall, and I’m in a chair.”

He scoffs. “Smart mouth.”

“You asked a question.”

“So I did. We’re in a building that was supposed to be my next venture. Someone, however, got in the way and created a bunch of red tape with the city. Now my funding has been slashed and this building has been sitting unfinished for a year, draining me of my property taxes.”

“Well,” you deadpan. “I’m a whore, not a lender. I can’t get you a loan.”

He grins, but you can’t tell if he’s amused. “You’re not just any whore though, are you? I have on good authority you service high profile clients. One of your clients is the reason this building is stuck in paperwork, and now he wants to take even more from me. I can’t let that happen.” 

Yoongi. He’s talking about Yoongi and you know it. You try not to squirm in your seat, meeting his dark eyes head on. Your mind is trying to make decisions and keep up as much as possible, funneling through the list of names Yoongi has mentioned, anything at all that can give you a leg up.

“High profile clients are where the money is,” you admit. You think perhaps this man is Kwan Daehyun, whom Yoongi has been playing chess with for the better part of a year. “I don’t like to sell information on my clients, but I suppose you know that since you kidnapped me.”

“Consider the sales price on this particular client’s information to be your life. I just need a little bit of information, and you’re free.”

You shrug. “You’ve got me there. What do you want to know?”

“Min Yoongi.” You continue to stare at him, giving away nothing. Your heart is racing in your chest and you try to keep your hands from shaking. When you continue not to answer, he clicks his tongue, annoyed. “What can you tell me about his weaknesses?”

You can’t help it, you laugh. Kwan frowns as you giggle. It hurts to laugh, face bursting with pain as you catch your breath and shake your head. “What a cheesy fucking questions. What, you think I just have a list of things that can hurt Min Yoongi?”

“I know how pillow talk goes. He must talk about his stress. Brag about his assets. What else do men go to whores for?”

“To get their cock sucked, usually.”

Kwan pushes off the wall and storms toward you. You sneer up at him, a little less afraid of him now. He appears small and gutless to you, kidnapping a sex worker to ask for pillow talk secrets to gain a fucking advantage. It means he has nothing on Yoongi and has resorted to pisspoor tactics to get anything usable against Yoongi.

Though how he managed to get to you is unsettling. You’re unsure how he made the connection, or how long he has been watching Yoongi. You find that to be the most irritating, to know that Yoongi has been under surveillance for any period of time. Not that you’ve been smacked around and put in an abandoned building on threat of murder. 

“I will fucking kill you.” 

There is truth in his words. Questioning you is a desperate attempt, but perhaps not his only. It occurs to you that he doesn’t thin you hold any value beyond questioning you, and though he’s said he’ll spare you life, you don’t think that’s true. He only sees you as a vacuum for information, and if you don’t have it or you give it to him, he’ll kill you.

You need to be valuable. And fast. 

“Kill me and you ruin any chance of that deal with him.” Kwan hesitates, eyes darkening as the words spill out of your mouth, “In fact, that was probably already off the table as soon as you had me physically harmed and dragged into a car here. So now, you should stop asking me about what Yoongi’s weaknesses are and start asking, what will Min Yoongi do if you call him and tell him who you kidnapped and tied to a fucking chair.” 

Kwan narrows his eyes. You see him assessing the weight of your words. You fight the urge to leap at him and reach for the folding knife in his pocket. Just because you can’t see a gun doesn’t mean there’s not one, and just because you can’t see or hear anyone else in the building doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Outside you can hear the cry of a seagull. When you breathe in, you smell ocean water and salt. Definitely keeping you in a building by the docks. You think you know the one. Kwan takes a few steps back from you and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“You think he gives a shit if I have you?”

“You asked for Yoongi’s weakness. You’re looking at it.” 

“I think you’re bullshiting me. I think you’re a whore he won’t deal for.”

“One way to find out, right?”

Instead of answering, Kwan turns on his heel and walks towards the opaque tarp. He walks through it and two men replace him at the entrance. Both of them are armed, staring down at you. Ignoring them, you roll your neck in slow circles, trying to ease the soreness.

Tentatively, you reach a hand up to your face, pressing your fingers into your cheek. You hiss, the pain still raw and present underneath your fingers. You can feel small scabs from where the gravel broke skin, but thankfully it doesn’t feel like your eyes are too swollen. 

Time passes. You remain in the chair, fidgeting now that you’re awake. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth and your lips begin to burn from wetting them constantly, only to be dried out by the salty air. You feel itchy and irritable, trying not to squirm too much in the chair lest you disturb the guards.

Most of all, without having to put on a brave performance, you feel afraid. Afraid of being here by yourself in this warehouse, afraid that you’ve made a mistake trying to make yourself valuable, afraid that Kwan isn’t going to give you a chance to talk to Yoongi as proof of life. 

You’re not versed in this part of Yoongi’s life. So much of his business has been held separate from you. The violence and the extortion and the sketchy deals have always been something he did outside of that room at the Red. You’re not afraid of this life, though. Just unprepared and trying to guess what to do next, fueled by poorly written crime movies and stories that Yoongi has told you in the warmth of your bed.

It feels like hours have gone by when Kwan comes back into the room. You sit up straight when you see the phone in his hand and see the fire in his eyes. He looks like a man who has had something go right - which means you have him right where you want him, if he’s doing what you think he is. 

Kwan holds out the phone to you. “You have five minutes to talk to him as an act of good faith on my proposal.”

You see Yoongi’s name on the caller idea and try not to start crying. Swallowing thickly, you lick your lips again and bring the phone up to your ear. The tremble in your hand and your voice isn’t a performance when you say, “Hello?”

“Where are you? He hasn’t told me.”

“Yeah, I’m alive.” You sniff a little. “Agh, don’t make me cry. My face will get saltier than it already is.”

“I need more than that, Angel. He’s trying to make deals with me, but I need to know where you are to come get you. He won’t tell me where you’re at unless I wire over money and legally sign over assets.”

“No, he hasn’t hurt me. He’s been polite, though I’ve been kind of a beach- bitch. I’ve been a bitch. Sorry, I’m very tired.”

“Is it the building in the warehouse district at the docks? That apartment shell?”

“Yes, I can do that. Just… please agree to whatever he says, I feel tired and loaded. Bloated. Sorry, I’m confusing words again.”

“Yeah, well I’ve got fucking guns too. We’re going to come get you okay?”

This time when you sniff, you feel actual tears. Of relief that he understands your weird turns of phrase, of the terror at knowing he’s going to have to come get you. To risk his life for you. You knew he would, and yet you almost hate to ask him. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’ll be okay, Angel, but I need you to listen.” 

“Okay.” 

His voice is firm as he says, “I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. Don’t think twice about it. It is you or them, do you understand me? There is almost a certainty you are going to have to kill someone when we come get you. Start thinking about it now. Try to get used to it so that when the time comes, you’re not afraid anymore.” 

“Okay. I love you.” 

“See you soon.”

-

Yoongi likes to think that he is an expert in control. His compartmentalization is unmatched, and though he is incredibly proud, his pride is not easily wounded. Foolish slights and insults don’t rile him the way they might have in his youth, and physical threats of harm are amusing, especially when no very few people carry through on their threat. 

When Yoongi hangs up the phone, he loses every ounce of control he’s ever felt. Never has his urge to destroy been so sharp. He sees red, slamming his hands across his desk and swiping everything off. He tastes metal in his mouth as he bites through his cheek, screaming as he hammers his fists on top of the desk hard enough that he thinks he might split the wood. 

Hoseok and Seokjin hear the commotion, crashing into the office with Namjoon and Jungkook behind them, weapons drawn. Yoongi is shaking when he looks up at them, the phone screen cracked in his hand. He cannot stop shaking, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like a dose of heroin. 

All of their voices sound like a mess of sounds. The ringing in his ears overpowers everything they’re saying as he stands there, hands at his side, mind racing and chest heaving as he pants. Why is he panting? Yoongi feels like he’s suddenly not getting enough air, dropping his phone to loosen the tie around his neck, trying to give himself more room to breathe. Why do his clothes feel so fucking tight?

Suddenly it’s like there isn’t enough air in the room. Yoongi feels the tunnel vision come up on him fast. Chills spread through his body as he wavers, hands held out as he tries to catch his breath. He feels hands on him trying to steady him, but he yanks away from them. They feel too close, too much in his space and he needs more room. Room to get this blazer off and breathe. Breathe, why can’t he breathe? 

Yoongi stumbles into a wall. His vision pulses on the edges and he can vaguely make out Hoseok’s voice. He looks up at him and sees his friend, his advisor. Hoseok isn’t touching him, but his head is cocked as he tries to keep and maintain eye contact with Yoongi. 

“Inhale for seven seconds,” Hoseok says. “Then exhale for seven. I’ll count.”

“What?” Yoongi demands.

“You’re having an anxiety attack.” Hoseok states it as if it’s the most common thing in the world. “You have to regulate your breathing or you’re going to pass out. If you pass out, we can’t help.” 

It’s the only thing that gets him to listen. He counts with Hoseok, drawing in long breaths.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

Yoongi has to shake this. Has to get ready and call his people, needs to make plans to come get you. He knows exactly where you are - wants to fucking kiss you for how clever you mange to be even while terrified. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

He knows you’re afraid. Yoongi has never heard your voice tremble like that since he’s known you. He knows every tone of your voice, every color to the spectrum of your sounds, able to pick them apart to know how you feel. And while you spoke in a clear tone, it was all wrong. Colored with terror. Voice soft and rough and wavering. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

The ringing in his ears fade. Yoongi continues to take slow, deep breaths. His hands are still shaking and he feels a little light headed, but when he blinks a few times and looks around, he sees his closest men and confidants standing around him, waiting. 

“Talk to us,” Hoseok urges. “What’s going on?”

“Kwan has my girl. They’re in that apartment project we froze in the docks.”

“He told you where they were?”

“No, she did.”

Hoseok looks weary. “That sounds like a trap - did he already offer you a deal?”

“He said several things. He didn’t tell me where they were, she did.”

“In front of-”

“Hoseok, stop asking stupid questions or I swear to fucking god I’ll hit you first. She’s not used to any of this, but she isn’t fucking stupid. She used the words salt, beach and loaded. They’re in that building and they’re armed.”

“Poetic,” Seokjin grunts. Yoongi cuts his gaze to his head of security and the man pales. “Sorry, bad timing.”

“Get every fucking person we know on the fucking ground and here. We’re going to get her.”

“They’ll see us coming from a mile away.”

Yoongi stares at Seokjin. “I don’t give a fuck. Kwan wanted to find a weakness, well he found one. And now I’m going to paint that shitty little development with his blood.”

An hour later is when it hits Yoongi. He stops in the middle of tying a shoe and he stands. He’s replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, looking for any other details he could have missed. He was so fucking proud of you for getting your point across even while scared, but now it’s something else he thinks of.

I love you. He had almost not realized you said it at all at the end of the call. He can’t remember if he said it back, but he’s suddenly sick over the what if of it all. What if he doesn’t get to say it back? What if he gets there and swarms in, only to find you dead? 

In a moment of panic, he texts Hoseok to request proof of life on the hour every hour from Kwan under the guise of considering his horrendous deal. Kwan, of course, thinks he’s got Yoongi. He doesn’t, naturally. They haven’t agreed on a time or place to meet, and Kwan does not seem to understand just how poorly he’s miscalculated. 

None of it matters. All that matters is that Yoongi is going to come get you like he promised, and he is never letting you out of his sight again. 

-

Surprisingly, your living conditions change a little upon Kwan learning that you’re more valuable kept alive and in decent condition than beat up or dead. He has a cot and a fan brought in, along with an ice back for your cheek and a thermos of water.

You crush the thermos almost immediately. Though you’re kept under armed guards now, you’re relieved to be able to lay down and stretch your sore limbs. When the ice pack finally grows hot and melts on your aching cheekbone, one of the guards gets you a new one without question.

It almost makes you feel bad for what is to come. Almost. 

You know Yoongi. It’s why you gambled with a hostage play in the first place. He won’t let them have you and it doesn’t matter what Kwan offers him, Yoongi is far too powerful to accept deals from the likes of Kwan. It isn’t so much a matter of pride as it is a matter of power. You know Yoongi has the power to pull you out of this without further harm. 

At least, you have put every ounce of trust and confidence in him that you have. 

Time moves slowly. It’s hard to know how fast Yoongi will mobilize or what his plan is. It would make sense for him to perhaps cause a distraction elsewhere to get Kwan’s eyes off of you, but it’s also a dangerous game to play with a hostage. 

It doesn’t matter. Yoongi has his job and you have yours, which is to work the screw out of one of the cots joints. You’ve picked one that isn’t imperative to the overall structure of the cot. It can bear your weight without the screw as long as you don’t lean on the joint too much. It takes you a while to unscrew it with your bare fingers, all while lying on your back trying to look uninterested in anything.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

Finally, you pull the cool metal free. You slide it into the pocket of your sweatpants. The weight of it feels better than nothing. It won’t do much damage, but a well placed punch to the face with the screw between your knuckles will do what you need, even if you damage your hand to do it. 

You’ve never killed someone. Thought about it a few times, maybe. Had some people try to sway you to slip something into a client’s drink, but you never accepted. Killing isn’t your business. It’s Yoongi’s, but you know that if he’s telling you to take the chance, it’s because he wants you to live. 

The thought is chilling. You rest your hand on the pocket, feeling the shape of the screw. You don’t know how to kill. You’re not even entirely sure that you have it in you. You’ve seen people die and you’ve seen people murder. It seems easy.

You’re not sure if it’s that simple. 

It’s late into the night when a commotion draws you from your half-slumber. You lift your head as someone comes in and mutters something to the guards. They nod and one of them leaves, the other turning to face you with a glare, hand resting just inside his jacket where you assume there’s a gun.

Outside, you hear the sound of peeling tires as a car takes off. 

Nerves take over. You feel your heartbeat pickup as you continue to lay on the cot, one hand under your pillow. It’s hard to think of what might be happening over the sound of your own pulse, but you try to regulate your breathing. There’s nothing happening right that second that you can control, so there’s no reason to panic.

A few minutes go by. It’s agony, waiting with bated breath. It’s quiet outside except for the sounds of the ocean and the mostly empty warehouses and docks. Plastic snaps in the breeze, loud in the silence of your waiting. You think that this is the worst part, the anticipation for what’s to come. You can’t sleep now even if you tried. 

When the first round of gunfire comes, you almost lose control of your bowels. It’s a shameful sort of fear that takes you by surprise, making you freeze up. You have been waiting for it, and yet now that you can hear the sound of automatic weapons somewhere below, it feels worse than you imagined. 

Looking up at the guard at the door, you reel in surprise to see him rushing toward you. Time seems to slow down. The sound of guns and yelling fade to the background everything suddenly becomes hyper focused. 

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

As the guard leans to pick you up, you strike like a snake, pulling the screw from your pocket and jabbing upward with a savage scream.

His guttural cry splits the night. You feel hot blood spray your hand and dot your face as you plunge the blunt screw into his eye socket. Blood makes your fingers slippery and as he falls onto his back, hands clutching his face, you lose your grip. 

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

No hesitation. You dive for him, stained hands searching for the weapon. The metal of the gun slides in your slick fingers. Through the blinding pain, the guard realizes what you’re doing and grabs your forearms. You pull back against him but can’t shake his grip, your hand stuck in his jacket on the gun. You finger the trigger and squeeze, but it doesn’t budge. The fucking safety. 

Sliding a knee down, you crush the cap of your knee between his legs, pressing his balls with your full weight. He screams and his grip goes slack. You yank on the gun, almost dropping it as it slides free from the holster. Your grip is clumsy and shaking, your heart pounding so hard you think you might die of fright before you manage to find the safety on the hammer and pull it back. 

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

Click. Squeeze. Bang. 

You don’t aim. Don’t have the sense to at that moment. This close, you don’t have to aim at all. You hit your target and his yelling turns to shrieks. You can’t tell where you’ve shot him, all you know is that you have. You scramble away, hands slipping on the floor, gun clutched clumsily in your hand. 

A hand goes around your ankle and you scream as he drags you backward. You roll onto your back, bringing the gun up again, trying to aim in the general direction of his chest.

Squeeze. Bang. 

It’s so loud. Your ears are ringing and you’re unable to hear anything as the grip on your ankle immediately goes slack. The guard goes limp, the fight leaving him immediately. You don’t look - can’t look. Can’t focus on anything but the way your vision tunnels. 

Dizziness sweeps over you as you crawl away from him again. Your knees and palms might hurt if you could feel anything at all, but numbness starts to take over as you manage to press yourself against a wall near the doorway. You don’t dare move toward it, too untrained to handle a gun while terrified. 

“Angel!” you hear Yoongi’s voice screaming somewhere in the building. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Your lips tremble. You try to find your voice, willing the words to come. Mouth open, his name on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find a response. “Angel, come on, baby! Where are you?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper. It’s not nearly loud enough and your voice cracks on the name. You close your eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath as you muster strength behind your voice. “Yoongi!” 

“That’s it, keep talking to me.” 

It sounds like he is yelling somewhere down a stairwell, voice echoing up concrete walls. “Up!” You start to curl into yourself. “Yoongi, up!” 

Steps thunder in the stairwell. You drop the gun next to you and look at your hands. They’re slick and wet. In a panic, you start wiping them on your sweatpants, smearing red as you do. You viciously wipe your hands. You want the blood off, you don’t want it all over you, it’s hot and stick and it’s not yours and it belongs to the dead man who was trying to take you-

Warm hands grab your face and tilt you upward. You blink through blurry tears. Yoongi looks back at you, his forehead sweaty and his slicked back hair a little messy. He turns your face from side to side as more of his men flood into the room, guns raised.

Yoongi’s mouth moves but you can’t hear him. You shake your head, looking up at him. His grip softens and the gentle brush of his thumb back and forth across your face eases the rising panic inside of you. You sniff, taking a few slow, trembling breaths. 

“Are you seriously injured?” Yoongi asks again, voice rough. Cracking. “Do you need medical attention?”

“No.”

“The blood-” You shake your head violently, closing your eyes. “Okay. It’s okay. You did what you needed to do, Angel. I’m going to get you on your feet and take you home, okay?” 

“I don’t-”

“My home. Not yours. You’re coming home.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to explain what he means. As he slowly pulls you to your feet, you know what he’s telling you. You’re going to his estate, because it’s yours too now. The agreement is unspoken but mutual. You don’t want to go back to your apartment. You don’t want to go back to the Red. Right now, all you want is to wash the blood from your hands and get away from this place. 

Seokjin is at the door with a blanket. He wraps it around you as Yoongi keeps his hands around your waist, steadying you as you walk. You get down two levels of stairs before he tucks you into him and presses his lips against your temple.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, mouth moving against your skin. “I won’t let you trip.”

You do as you’re told. His steps are confident and careful as he leads you through the bottom floor. You hear the murmur of voices, the flapping of plastic tarp, and the humming engines of vehicles. Yoongi lifts you lightly and helps you get into the cool interior of a car that smells like leather. 

When the door shuts, you flinch and open your eyes, staring straight forward. Yoongi is next to you, arm going around your shoulders as he pulls you into his side again. You realize for the first time as you glance at him that there’s blood on his face and in his hair. His knee bounces up and down, his hand resting against it, still gripping a gun with the safety off. 

“Are we safe?” you whisper, staring at his gun. 

“Yes.”

“Then why-”

“It makes me feel better,” he admits. “I just need to come down.”

“Okay.” 

“Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are dark and though his mouth is pinched at the corners and the vein throbs in his forehead, his eyes are soft for you. “I love you,” he murmurs. “We’re safe.”

-

A week makes the pain in your cheekbone fade away. A week does not make the memory of squeezing the trigger fade. At night, the memory is worse. What your mind had been unable to remember at first comes back in full-clarity at night, gripping you in your sleep and dragging you down into an endless terror until Yoongi pries you from the clutches of your nightmares and wakes you. 

It’s easier with him by your side, though. You’re at least able to fall asleep, if not stay asleep through the night. When he wakes you from screaming and thrashing in the sheets, you’re able to settle against him, his hold on you firm. Comforting.

Yoongi takes this in stride. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t lose his patience. He simply murmurs that he gets it and holds you, his skin warm and smelling like home. 

Home. 

The estate is a sprawling mass of elegance that stuns you each day. Beyond the opulence of the home and the luxury that it offers, what matters most is the security. The personnel at every entrance, the high gate with cameras and alarms, the three lurking dobermans that still terrify you when you see them standing in a dark hall at night or watching you in the kitchen when you get a glass of water after a nightmare. 

Nox has come around to liking you, at least. She’s become your shadow in the house, which had made you a little unsure at first. Now, she trails you up the stairs and to the master bedroom. You’ve grown used to her - prefer it, even, when Yoongi is not home like right now. 

Erebus and Khonsu are on the floor of the master bedroom. Both watch you as you enter, unbothered but aware. Where their younger sister has adopted you as an owner and a thing to protect, they still seem set on Yoongi only. 

The three dogs remain in the bedroom as you end the bathroom. It makes you feel safe to know that even if someone managed to get through the gates, up the driveway, through the secured doors and the dozen people that Yoongi has stationed at the estate since your kidnapping, the dogs are another line of defense. 

So is the gun under the bathroom cabinet and in the nightstand, but you don’t want to touch a gun ever again. Not if the nightmares it gives are like this. 

Steam fills the room accompanied by the scent of eucalyptus. Carefully, you peel the clothes from your body and toss them into a corner. The stone shower is warm with heated floors and a digital panel both inside and outside for control of the fifteen different water settings. There’s even steam options, but you simply turn on the rain feature, slipping under the dripping ceiling. 

The hot, wet taps of the water lull you into a trance. You stand with your head tilted down, letting the rivulets of water run the full length of your body.

“Angel, I’m home,” Yoongi calls from the bedroom. You smile, appreciating that he announces his presence instead of sneaking up on you. He’s always careful to make noise when he enters rooms now and announces his arrival. “You just get in?”

“Yeah,” you call back. “Join me?”

“Give me five.” 

When he finally enters the bathroom, you turn around to look at him. He’s already pulling the tie around his neck loose, dropping it to the ground. You catch sight of the red across his knuckles. Though he is free of blood - an effort on his part now to bring it home to you - you notice the days where he comes home and his knuckles are split or bruised, hands aching. 

Watching Yoongi undress captures your full attention. His movements are slow and methodical. His back is to you, shirt dripping off his broad shoulders to join the tie on the floor. He looks up in the mirror and pauses, dark eyes catching yours. You raise a brow and gesture for him to continue. When he does, it’s with his tongue poking his cheek and a smirk. 

Knowing that you’re watching, Yoongi turns it into an art. His fingers trace the top of his slacks before he slowly undoes the belt, pulling it with a satisfying hiss through the loops before holding it out to the side and letting it clatter to the floor. Your eyes are zeroed in on his reflection in the mirror as he works the button open, peeling the top of his pants apart to reveal the logo of his briefs. 

Yoongi pauses. Your eyes dart up to his in the mirror to find him watching you, eyes dark. The scar looks menacing today. You squeeze your thighs together, chewing on your bottom lip. He notices, smirk growing as he rolls the slacks down his thighs and kicks them aside. You see the imprint of his half-hard cock in his briefs, your attention on him alone enough to get his blood pumping.

You’ll never get over having that effect on him. Knowing that even after the nightmares and becoming an inconvenience - in your eyes, at least - the chemistry between you isn’t gone. It’s still there, a burning candle. 

Slowly, Yoongi peels off his briefs. His heavy cock bobs as he steps out of them and you feel your pussy clench around nothing, just thinking about him stretching you open. He says nothing about the small bead of precum at the tip as he turns and walks over to the shower.

He’s built beautifully. Broad shoulders with a slim, tapered waist. Strong arms and large hands, firm chest and soft but muscular stomach. Yoongi is the perfect blend of pretty and rugged, a combination that you didn’t know existed until him. 

When he steps into the shower, you step further into the water, making room for him. He shuts the door and frowns at the distance between you, holding out his hand. You take it immediately and he pulls you forward, careful not to let you slip on the tile.

He doesn’t waste a moment. Yoongi’s mouth captures yours, wet from the shower water as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly. You hum, bringing your arms to loop around his neck, fingers combing through his wet hair. His cock presses against your lower stomach, and you shiver. 

Yoongi’s kisses are addicting. Slow, like he has all the time in the world, but hungry, like he can’t get enough. His tongue brushes the roof of your mouth, his teeth pulling at your lip again when he pulls his mouth away to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw. 

Tilting your head back, you let him pepper kisses along your throat. You close your eyes, letting him hold you to him. The room tilts as you sway in his arms, the feeling of him licking the hollow of your throat entrancing. It’s so simple yet it feels so good. 

One arm loops around your waist to keep you pressed to Yoongi, his other slides up your wet skin to cup your breast. You let out a breathy moan when you feel his thumb circle your stiff nipple, the stimulation so bare but so good. 

Yoongi keeps you cradled against him, mouth working your neck and shoulder and back up to your mouth while his thumb lazily plays with your nipple. You're pliant in his arms, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

His mouth starts to descend and when he finally takes your nipple into his mouth, you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. He hums as he sucks gently, tongue flicking back and forth over the peak. You can’t help but twitch in his arms, a ripple of pleasure sliding through you. 

Heat pulses between your legs and you feel the slick gathering in your folds. Your legs squeeze together again as Yoongi drags his teeth over your sensitive nipple before letting go and switching to the other. This time, he looks up at you through dark, wet lashes, sticking out his devilish tongue as he uses the tip to trace your skin.

“Show off,” you mutter, voice shaking. 

He laughs and runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple before giving a sharp suck that has you arching into him. “You love having your tits in my mouth,” he shoots back. He bites the top of your breast softly, teeth scraping your soft skin. “Don’t deny it.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Hmmm.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he teases. The hand around your back slides down to your ass. He grabs a handful, squeezing generously. “Can you turn around for me? Legs spread so I can see that pretty pussy.” 

“Fuck.” 

He drops his arms so you can turn around. You press your palms against the wall, shivering as the cold tile leeches the warmth from you. The temperature difference makes the room tilt. You slide your legs apart and stick your ass out toward him, lifting a little. 

“Fuck yeah.” 

You can’t see him, but you feel him as he slides down to his knees. His palms grip your ass, spreading your cheeks open. You close your eyes and let your head hang between your arms when it feels too heavy to hold up yourself. 

“Just want a quick taste,” Yoongi mutters.

“Shiiiit,” you hiss, feeling his tongue dance up and down your cunt. He licks you in broad, slow stripes before he puts his entire mouth on you and sucks sharply. “Just like that.” 

“Fuck.” The smack of his lips against your wet heat are bracketed by the slick sound of him stroking his cock, the filthy sounds echoing in the shower. “I could eat you out every day.”

“You do.”

“Fine.” His tongue zigzags back and forth, reaching to swirl around your click. He kisses your cunt and stands up. “I’ll make it twice a day, then.” 

The blunt head of his cock slides between your folds. You press back toward him, eager to have him push in and split you open. He tuts at you, giving you a gentle smack on your ass. “Eager.”

“I’ve been waiting all fucking day for it, Yoongi. Give it to me.” 

“Mmm.” 

The feeling of Yoongi sinking his cock into you slowly drives you mad. You feel like you can’t breathe, every inch of his thick length stretching your walls to the max. It feels like he’s in your guts when he bottoms out, the pressure immense and good and dizzying. 

He starts slow, giving a few shallow thrusts as you adjust to be pried open. You relax around him, falling into the pleasure as he begins to fuck you in earnest. Hands on your waist, he pulls your ass backwards, meeting every one of his strokes in a loud, wet smack of hips on ass.

A shiver ripples down your spine and you moan when he adjusts the angle, prodding your g-spot. “Yeah?” he asks through gritted teeth. “That the spot?”

“Yes, please fuck me just like that.”

Nothing else exists beyond this. The steam makes your skin even hotter, cloying the air and making it hard to breathe. It makes everything fuzzy, like you’re drifting in and out of reality, pleasure unfolding in you as you squeeze around his cock. 

Each snap of his hips is punctuated with stilted breath. You’re gasping, thighs burning as you take every inch of him, fingers curling against the wall, eyes rolling back as you fall into a mute space. You make sound but no words come out, the pressure against that spot inside of you driving you mad. 

Yoongi slides a hand from your waist over the curve of your ass and between your cheeks, thumb pressing gently on the rim of your ass. You let out a loud moan, fingers trying to grab the wall to no avail. The new stimulation feels delicious, Yoongi’s thumb pressing against your asshole in time with his strokes. He doesn’t push past the ring of muscles, but it doesn’t matter - it’s enough to send you careening closer to your orgasm, toeing the line of insanity. 

“Fuck, Angel,” he pants, fucking into you harder. “Just like that, make it fucking creamy. You gonna come?” 

“Fuuuuck yeah.”

His thumb presses harder against your rim. “Come on, give it to me.” 

“Shit shit shit shit.” 

You lose the ability to say anything. Your body folds forward, only held up by Yoongi and the press of the freezing cold wall as he fucks you with precision. It sends you over the edge, your knees knocking as you come, fists pressing into the wall as you yell through it. 

The sound of the shower is drowned out by your babbling. Yoongi thrusts hard a few more times, hand slipping away from your ass to grip your waist hard, chasing his high. He comes with a loud curse, fingers digging into your skin. 

For a moment, he leans into you, pressing his cock as far in as he can go. Your pussy throbs around him, every pulse ebbing around him. He presses kisses up your spine, hands sliding up your ribs to pull you upright until your back is against his chest. 

“Fuck,” he pants, voice rough. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“I’ve always been yours.”

“I mean entirely. Without sharing.”

You pause, looking up at him with a frown. “You know I haven’t been… taking clients for two years, right?”

He pauses. “What?”

“You stupid boy,” you laugh, laying your head against his shoulder. “Of course I wasn’t. I just wanted you.” 

“Then why stay there?”

You shrug a shoulder, letting your eyes fall closed. The warmth of the orgasm blooms through you, Yoongi’s skin hot against your back and  the shower hotter still. “It was a place I knew you’d be safe when you visited. And I didn’t want to ask you for more. Everyone always wants more from you. I just wanted you.”

“All that time, I could have just… asked you to come home?”

“Yes. But it’s okay. I’m home now.”

He kisses your neck. “You are home, Angel.”