Bad Decisions

Bad Decisions

ღ pairing: tech support!Yoongi x f. reader

ღ genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut [18+]

ღ summary: Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?  

ღ part of the room for rent collab

ღ wc: 14.3k

ღ warnings: jokes about a foot fetish, reader helped jimin wax, alcohol use/mention, mention of matching tattoos, matching swimsuits, jealousy, mention of medication that causes sun sensitivity (?),  marking (hickeys, biting), hair pulling, mention of choking/breath play, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. giving and receiving), spanking, mention of masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie  

ღ date: January 27, 2023

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dreams | myg (m)

part of aaagustd’s prompt dump event

for: anon ╰┈➤ request: “Yoongi + arranged marriage (If you could do of pining for Yoongi I would double love you) I LOVE ME A ARRANGED MARRIAGE AU”

title: dreams pairing: min yoongi x (f)reader genre/rating: arranged marriage, smut but no smut, pining; 18+ summary: yoongi could have never guessed that you'd be the girl of his dreams. warnings: pining, whipped!yoongi, wet dreams, implied smut, yoongi touching himself(aka his big d*ck), ruined org*sm wc: 0.5k release date: july 24th, 2024; 9:05pm est note: hi babes!! kicking this off with a little something. ngl, this used to be something but idk what it is anymore. i hope you enjoy it, anon. my apologies if there are any mistakes, my love. dividers by @cafekitsune

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“W-We’re going to be late.”

You can barely get your words out because every thrust leaves you gasping for air. Your hands grip the railing while you lean over it. The sound of one of your diamond earrings hitting the marble floor goes unheard due to the obscene noises traveling through the mansion.

“That’s cool,” he grunts. “I don’t wanna go anyway.”

When Yoongi saw you in that little black dress, he knew that his plans were canceled. He’s going to need the entire night to appreciate this look. He couldn’t even muster up the patience to drag you to bed. How the hell was he supposed to behave for a three hour long event?

“Shit, I’m coming…!”

This is music to his ears. Though he has more plans for you tonight, right now he’s only trying to release all the pressure threatening to squirt out of him at any given second. 

You’ve been teasing him all day, testing his patience. He can’t hold on anymore. He feels like he might explode.

“Fuck, baby. Me too—”

03:43 am

Not again.

Restless nights have become the norm for Yoongi. Since you moved in, a good night for him is any time he can get a solid five hours. 

Tonight is no different. As soon as he drifts off to sleep, he’s haunted by the sweetest dreams he’s ever had.

His instinct is to savor every moment he can be near you so intimately, but he reminds himself that fantasizing about you in that way is stepping into dangerous territories. 

Just because you’re his wife, doesn’t mean you’re his lover—or that you’ll ever be.

Yoongi doesn’t understand how this happened. He was just as resentful of this marriage as you were, but at some point, it all changed. How did you manage to capture his heart when the two of you barely speak?

Shoving the covers away from his body does little to cool him down. The images from his feverish dream still plague his mind.

He bites his lip, pushing those out of his imagination. It’s wrong to think like that.

His heart hurts a little whenever he sees your demeanor change as you walk through the front door. It’s like you’re leaving your real life behind as you’re returning to hell. 

That’s why he tries so hard to make this easier. 

Sleeping in a separate room, staying out late, only speaking when necessary—he knows how to stay out of the way. Although sometimes he can’t help but wonder… Do you ever get lonely?

He sure as hell does.

Every day women throw themselves at him, expecting him to entertain their promiscuity. But he never does. 

He could, and no one would say a word. However, even if he did desire someone else, he could never embarrass you.

Before that happens, he’ll slide down his boxers and relieve himself alone, biting into his pillow so you don’t hear him crying out your name through the walls.

If he’s lucky, he’ll pass out after, and be out of his misery. 

Hopefully.

Yoongi rolls over and lies on his back, staring at the ceiling as his hand slowly strokes over his skin. The dream he just escaped from starts replaying in his mind, picking up where it ceased. He’s already feeling a tingling sensation coursing through his body. 

That’s it. He’s already worked up. Now, he’s ready to—

Did he just hear someone knock?

Soft

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Your first morning with Yoongi reminds you of just how soft he is.

Warnings: Suggestive, not proofread

A/N: This is nothing but tooth-rotting fluff, I don't even know where I was going with this, but it is what it is. And yes, I'm daydreaming about foggy October mornings in the middle of July, it's my escapism, leave me alone.

Masterlist

Requests are open

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It was one of those quiet, early mornings when everything was still except for the occasional faded leaf drifting lazily past as you stared out the kitchen window, waiting for coffee to brew.

You didn't realize you weren't alone anymore until you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your middle, making you smile instantly as Yoongi pressed his face into your shoulder.

"Morning." He said, voice gravely from sleep.

"Morning, you're warm." You hummed contentedly.

"You're cold." He said as his hands found yours, fingers already chilled by the morning air.

"Come back to bed." He breathed against your neck, pressing a sleepy kiss to your skin as he spoke, lips lingering longer than usual.

"I didn't realize you were so needy in the mornings." You mused.

"Is that a problem?" He asked.

"Nope, I could stay right here quite happily all day." You said, leaning back against him to further your point, making him chuckle.

"That can be arranged." He hummed, digging his fingers into your sides a bit to make you squirm.

It was moments like this with him when you couldn't fathom how some people had the view that Yoongi was a cold or indifferent person, when in reality, nothing could be further from the truth.

When you had first started dating, there had definitely been a level of shyness that almost bordered on standoffish, but you had quickly come to understand that it came from a place caution due to his past, but you'd been more than willing to work through it and wait patiently as he let down those walls one by one.

You remember the first time he invited you to his studio, watching him work, mouth drawn into a pout of concentration as his finger flew across the keyboard.

"You're staring." He said, shooting a side-long glance at you.

"So?" You asked. "You're pretty."

He didn't respond, choosing to keep his eyes on the screen in front of him, but you didn't miss the faint dusting of pink that crept across his face, making you grow more confident, leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek, making him splutter out a surprised laugh.

"What was that for?" He asked, flustered.

"Nothing, I just wanted to." You shrugged, turning back to your phone leaving him staring at you, bemused.

Little moments had built up over the course of a few weeks, fleeting touches and pecks here and there, with his moves always seeming to be slightly wary, as if you'd run away if he wasn't careful, though you had absolutely no intentions of going anywhere.

The breaking point had finally come last night as you'd sat together as he voiced his frustrations about a current project he was struggling to finish.

"What do you usually do when you can't write?" He'd asked you.

"Drink." You chuckled, gesturing to the glass in your hand, making him snort. "Think about you."

"Noo!" His face scrunched up, making you laugh.

When you quieted though, you noticed his eyes lingering on you. You don't know what it was exactly that you said or did, but as he stared at you, you could see the final wall crumble as he suddenly leaned in to claim your lips.

At first, it was so soft and sweet, you could've cried from the way he held you, like you were made of glass, but when you deepened it, winding a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, you'd felt a tiny shiver ripple through him as he sucked in a shaky breath before caving entirely, pushing you back against the cushions as he chased after your lips.

"What?" You asked, looking up at him confusion.

Now, as you finally convinced him to venture out for a very late breakfast, you could see the subtle differences in his movements with and around you.

As the two of you walked along, he suddenly grabbed for your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

He just shook his head before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was still more than enough to leave you dazed by the time he pulled away.

"What was that for?" You asked.

He shrugged. "Just wanted to." He said with a smirk before continuing down the road, still holding your hand, you biting back a grin as you trailed after him.

— close ღ

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au

warnings: yandere, mentions of violence (not towards the reader), pseudo incest, manipulation, corruption, mentions of somnophilia, praise, degradation, cockwarming, breast play, dirty talk, dom!jk but he's needy, (he's also a pervert), humping, creampie

It started out as an unconscious gesture; searching for your warmth. Hugs that lingered and limbs tangled together under the sheets on stormy nights. A primal yearning, seeping into his consciousness slowly; until sharing a bed became a normal occurance, no need for rain or thunder. Until exploring your skin under the cotton of your t-shirt no longer served to comfort you; but rather to feed the starving fire in his bones, prickling your skin with its heat. He always needed more.

It was so hard to think clearly through the fuzziness in your head, his own warmth filling you up; and the innocence lacing his lewd actions. A pretty, silken ribbon coiled around a snake.

"I love you," he'd whisper, "I want to be close to you. Is that so wrong?"

The words, so heavy, sank all the way into your skull, their weight slowly crushing your common sense; and all that was left were the raw, unfiltered instincts creeping beneath. In a way, Jungkook was right, wasn't he? And it wasn't like anyone would ever know...

You ended up disappearing deeper into that thought the more daring his touches became, the longer his hands lingered so intimately on skin that so clearly longed for them.

"I missed you so much... Couldn't wait to come home."

The whisper turned into a sigh, his hand brushing over your abdomen. A soft moan was muffled into your neck when his hips pushed forward, the drooling, swollen tip of his cock prodding against your slick entrance. He filled you up inch by inch, throbbing as you clenched around him, so fucking tight a dull bang sounded through the room before he was even halfway in. He paid no mind to his head hitting the headboard, hissing and squeezing your hip with an inked hand, eyes shut and stomach twisting hotly.

Unfortunately — or fortunately, at this point, who knew — hearing the gentle quiver in each breath Jungkook took for some reason only made you clench harder.

"Ahh—" a weak, breathy, little groan that made his voice break. "F-fuck.. Please stop, baby..."

You pressed your face into the pillow, trying to stifle the whimper pushing past your throat. His hands lowered down to your thigh, holding you open with ease so he could slide in deeper, make you take it all before his hips finally touched yours.

You've spent many nights spooning like this, eyelids heavy and fingers intertwined. At first, Jungkook obediently kept his touches limited to caressing your thighs and tummy, decorating them with mindless patterns.

Until that, too, was not enough.

Every night he buried himself inside you, he found it harder and harder not to cross the line — and you found it harder not to fall apart. "You feel so good," didn't suffice anymore; neither did the gentle, appreciative way he felt your body. He needed more. And who could blame Jungkook with the way your cunt gripped his cock, dripping wet and heavenly warm, like it was made for him.

"So perfect."

His palm roamed your thigh, getting dangerously close to the curve of your ass.

"So perfect for me," he whispered softly. "Must feel so empty in the mornings, huh? Pussy so pretty gaping after I leave— ah."

It would have looked even prettier with his cum spilling out of it, but the thought turned to dust the moment he felt you react to his words, the pulsing around his thick girth drawing a groan out of him. The corner of his lips twitched upwards lazily, his eyes falling shut.

You felt like you couldn't breathe.

Being inside you was meant to serve a purpose; to comfort and relax. You never thought Jungkook actually looked at you, let alone while you were unconscious, and the admission made the room around you spin in hazy circles.

"Filthy," he murmured, his fingers finding rest on your ass and squeezing.

You gasped, squeezing him right back, and Jungkook wasn't sure how much longer he could stay still, the heat blazing through him too consuming.

"Shh, shh, shh, baby," he tried to soothe, one hand reaching to envelop your own. "Doing so good. Such a good girl."

Nuzzling your neck, he helped your heartbeat slow down a little, his embrace solid; leading you straight back towards the safety zone.

"Wanna watch a movie?"

While grateful for the offered distraction, you shook your head, wishing for nothing more than to finally fall asleep. For a moment, it was silent, and it almost seemed like Jungkook had the same idea.

Then, his lips inched towards your ear and you felt him twitch inside you.

"Wanna make one?" He breathed.

Your eyes shot open, stomach turning. Jungkook felt you tense up in his arms, and for some reason it turned him on to see you struggle, thrown from your safety zone into the deep water.

"What if my cute, little sister got stuck under the couch? Or t-the table—ohh fuck—"

He couldn't quite finish the sentence, his dick beating as hard as his heart as your walls constricted.

"Jungkook!" you tried, though your voice barely rose above a choked whisper.

He hummed in response, brushing his nose along the nape of your neck.

"You started it."

How?

You didn't get a chance to ask. His hand sneaked under your shirt again, shamelessly sliding up to cup your breast. Tingles crept up your spine, making it arch beautifully, and Jungkook groaned at the slight movement.

"I mean, how filthy are you, baby? You find out I lift the sheets every morning to look at your little cunt while you're sleeping, and you clench around me like a bitch in heat."

He couldn't deny the ache shooting through his stiff cock as he taunted you in a whisper, goosebumps flooding his skin. Not once in his life has he ever spoken to you like this before; maybe that was one of the reasons for the bubbling heat unfurling in his stomach. Maybe that was the reason for the way your thighs quivered as well.

"I felt you then, too," he groaned, rolling your nipple in between the tips of his fingers. "Is that what you want? To get stuck under a couch and fucked by your brother?"

The next roll turned into a pinch. Arousal made you burn from head to toe, and for a reason you couldn't fathom the shame worked like gasoline, making the fire spread quicker. You were struggling to breathe again, too hot under the sheets.

"I'm starting to see a pattern here... You like being treated like some mindless toy? You wanna be a little doll for me?"

You were meant to stop him, say his name, but it came out as a pathetic moan, and you felt yours eyes water. It was a mix of mortification and the intense need pulsing in between your thighs, the kind you've never felt before, the kind you knew you shouldn't feel at all when it came to your stepbrother.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook slowly began to pull back; dragging every thick inch of his cock through your walls slowly, until only the tip remained inside.

The moment he parted from you completely, you instantly felt his absence. There was no better time to say something than now, when your ability to form sentences wasn't completely blurred by lust.

"Jungkook," you tried again in a whisper, swallowing, "please, stop using that word when you're—" a gasp cut you off when he flipped you onto your back, leaning his muscular arms on either side of your head.

Even in the darkness of your bedroom, it was impossible not to notice how fucked out he looked, smirking down at you.

"What word?" He murmured, unceremoniously lifting your shirt.

Your heart jumped, hand flying down to try to cover your chest, but he caught your wrist and slammed it against the pillow.

"What word?" He repeated. As if he needed to ask. As if he didn't feel you squirm every time he used it. "Sister?"

While you were trying to process the situation, heart beating out of your chest, he lowered his head and wrapped his mouth around a hardened nipple, sucking. A veiny hand reached to fondle the other breast and you moaned softly, eyelids fluttering. Jungkook grunted in response, dark gaze flickering up to your face. It was a sinful sight, the feeling even more so, his tongue so hot and wet as it flicked against the bud. But your hesitation must have shown, because after a moment he pulled away and caressed your face instead.

"Don't act so innocent, baby. You think I don't notice how you don't even need to touch yourself to let me inside? Just seeing my cock gets your panties wet. Besides," he leaned in closer, staring into widening eyes. "That's what you are, aren't you?"

There was a look in his eyes you haven't seen before; something possessive that prompted you to nod and agree, despite the nervousness buzzing through you.

Jungkook purred, rubbing his nose against yours.

"Then be a good little sister," he whispered, "and spread your legs for me."

A tremble went through your spine, and you found yourself doing just as he asked. It earned you a tender kiss on the cheek, then another. He loved you so much. Was is it so wrong that he loved you? No, and he would continue to assure you that there was nothing wrong with you loving him either.

Biting down on his lip, he grabbed his hard cock and gave it a pump, then two, shuddering when it touched the warmth of your cunt.

He felt his abdomen tense, keeping eye contact as he began pushing himself into the welcoming softness of the tight hole. He's never kissed you before, but his lips were practically on yours, brushing your mouth and releasing hot, short puffs of air. Swallowing harshly when he bottomed out, he felt the moan that escaped you, felt your hole twitching around him, greedy and so much wetter than when the night began.

"G-god," he forced out, fighting back a groan. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder.

"I love you so fucking much, y-yeah. I'm so fucking hard. Always m-make me so fucking—ah—hard. So pretty."

He was so drunk on you, his words were beginning to slur. Warmth tingled through your chest in crashing waves. His hand went back to kneading your breasts, any traces of gentleness gone and replaced by need. He lifted himself up to look, fascinated by the way your body reacted when he twisted and abused your nipple. He could have came just from this, from the view under him and the feeling of your perfect pussy. And fuck, he wanted to come so bad.

"Fuck," he finally groaned, barely conscious of the little grinding movement his hips began to make. You were getting lost in the pleasure, your hips lifting subtly to aid his in gaining friction.

Immediately, mindlessly, his grinding became faster, his cock rubbing against your walls so well and reaching so deep you knew you were going to come; and he wasn't even fucking you properly.

"Ohh fuck, baby— need you so much, please."

You heard him sniffle, the mattress squeaking beneath you.

"Please let me come. I need to come."

"Jungkook," you breathed, "I, I—" your stomach tightened, the tension in it so close to bursting.

Was this wrong? It didn't feel wrong; Jungkook always said that it's okay to have a special bond, that it's okay to feel good, it's your business. And you knew you weren't connected by blood, but you were still connected by family ties.

"A-are you still on the pill?" He asked brokenly, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah, I— am, oh—"

With a low groan, he humped you faster, making your legs stiffen around him.

"Can I come inside? Need to come inside. Need to fill this sopping fucking cunt."

You whined, hiding your face in his neck, a tiny part of you still aware that your parents were home, asleep. At this point though, it didn't really matter anymore. You wanted to feel him come so badly; you wanted to feel him fall apart with you.

"Yes, please," you whispered breathlessly, your fingers digging into his broad shoulders. "Come inside me."

The moan he let out was obscene, but you didn't get a chance to beg any more; your vision became blurry and you couldn't hold back any longer if you tried. His hand slapped over your mouth just in time to muffle the scream that broke through, his teeth biting harshly into your shoulder to dull his the desperate sounds of his own orgasm. His hips stilled, dick twitching and shooting rope after rope of cum until his mind went numb.

You've never felt this sated before; so full and complete, lost in the bliss. It took a while for Jungkook to gather up the strength to lift himself up, but you didn't mind at all, his weight on you adding to the comfort and the butterflies still swarming around your tummy. What caught your attention was the silky lips touching your own; a chaste, loving kiss, the first one he dared to give you, making your heart pound.

"I'm all yours. Are you mine?"

Not that he needed to ask; of course you were his. He'd sever someone's arm before letting them even think of putting a finger on you. But he did need to hear you say it. He needed you to know that you belonged to him only, that no one else was allowed to do the things he did to you. And you sighed, so sweetly, whispering your answer straight into his mouth.

"Only yours."

Eyes hooded, Jungkook stared at your beautiful face, peace taking over your features. You were already falling asleep, and he could barely keep his eyes open, even though arousal still stirred in groin. He came so much it drained most of his strength, but he'd be able to sneak into your bed again. And this time, you'd let him give it to you properly, you'd beg for it like you begged for his cum. You'd let him fuck you again and again until you were so dumbed out on orgasms and love, you'd barely question waking up in a new apartment he rented for you to share.

Your parents wouldn't question it either; they'd have no reason to. Wasn't it just heartwarming for siblings to be close?

hiii, i hope you're doing well and just wanted to say that i absolutely looove your writing. 😭🤍 there aren't many fic writers that dive into the darker themes, so thank you a ton for sharing your work with us!! also; i'm not sure if you're accepting requests at the moment, but on the off-chance that your are, could you please maybe write a con/noncon or dubcon fic with yoongi?? thank you so much, have a great day!! <333

I love youuu 💕 tysm and yes baby, I hope you have a great day/night too <3

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: strangers to lovers

warnings: mentions of blood and violence (not towards the reader), implied murder, stalking, smoking, (consensual) drugging, con noncon, corruption (kink?), somnophilia, oral sex (f!receiving), implied multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk, degradation, praise, possessiveness, some choking, slight spit kink, brief mentions of impact play, restraints (handcuffs), implied imprisonment and possible dub con at the end, bad metaphors (lmao), this is messed up but what's new

Yoongi hated clubs; but he was ever so grateful he let himself get dragged into one on the first night that he saw you. Even in the hazy, flickering lights and the beat of the music drumming through his chest, all his senses were focused on you. Palms sweaty, he watched you sip on your drink, your lipstick tainting the glass. He wished he could feel your mouth pressing into him like that, into the hollow of his throat and in between his thighs.

He wished he could say he did the decent thing, sat down beside you and asked for your name. Took you out on a date and made up some lame excuse about being cold to hold your hand as you walked down a dimly lit lane, dry orange and yellow leafs falling around you. He'd give you his jacket and kiss you goodnight, replay the moment on repeat in his head as he'd fall asleep.

Instead, he followed you home and left a pile of ashes on the cold pavement leading to your apartment complex, smoking one cigarette after another as dawn settled in. Call him a hopeless romantic, but there was a feeling he got when your eyes met his across the club that night. Like he had met you before. Like he knew you inside out. Like you were everything he's ever wanted, the missing piece he didn't even know he needed.

And the missing piece, to fit, had to be just as twisted and broken as the rest of him.

It was easy to learn your routines. Even easier to clean out the blood from his clothes when men tried to hit on you. On Saturday nights, he watched you through the shimmering colors and the smoke of the club, eye contact with him becoming your only source of communication. And yet, it was more than enough. Your eyes said a lot. Enticed him to come out of the shadows and get closer.

It took him three weeks.

Three weeks before he made his way through the crowd and slipped a small pill into your drink. It still bubbled and fizzed when you came back from the bathroom, catching your attention for a moment before your head snapped in his direction. The corner of his lips twitched.

You took a breath then lifted the glass, staring right at him as you gulped down its contents. At that moment it was his dick that twitched, his heartbeat picking up its pace. You were a dream. A dream he couldn't wait to hold.

He glanced at the watch wrapped around his wrist, then counted down the minutes, careful to keep an eye on you. Your safety was his responsibility now and he was not going to let anyone come near you unless they wanted their heads bashed into the bar.

When he saw you slump in your seat, your eyes fluttering in disorientation, he got up and pushed his way through the dancefloor. His strong arm snaked around your waist just as your knees gave out, pulling you into his side. You felt so warm, the smell of your perfume clouding his senses. He leaned down to press his lips against your ear, voice low as he muttered.

"You're a nasty little girl, huh? But don't worry, I got you."

You moaned softly, a sound that made him feel hot all over. He led you out of the club slowly, as not to arouse suspicion, blaming your broken state on too many shots to the bouncer. Snuggled into his side, you held on to him so tightly that it was almost too easy. It took him a mere moment to have you outside and then in the backseat of his car.

You lay down on your side, curling your knees up to your chest. The position exposed the smooth flesh of your thighs. Yoongi tried not to let his mind wander and checked up on you in the rearview mirror, familiar roads rushing by in the light of street lanterns.

"You okay?"

You made a small noise at the back of your throat. Yoongi looked back for a moment.

"It was a small dose. You good?"

You only nodded in response, your eyes falling closed. Yoongi couldn't help the heat twisting through his stomach; you were so vulnerable, all his to take. The fantasy of it haunted him for so long that parking in front of his place no longer felt real. He helped you out of the car like a gentleman, hands on your waist, squeezing it softly as he brought you into the warmth of his house. Through the dark corridor, then into his bedroom, where you landed on the mattress with him hovering above you.

His hot, shallow breaths caressed your face, one leg sneaking in between your thighs.

"This what you wanted?" He whispered. "To get fucked up so I can use that cute, little body all night?"

You squeezed his arm, your grip on it weak. Your hand immediately fell back down.

"No," you protested, barely a sigh.

Yoongi tilted his head.

"No? Then why did you drink the drugged shot, baby? Why did you let me take you home?"

You could barely keep your eyes open, fighting to make your lips move, your chest heaving under his.

"I..." You whispered, then bit your lip.

Yoongi hummed, slowly running his hand down your waist.

"You?" He mocked, amused. "Don't get shy on me now."

Inch by inch, he slid his hand up to your chest, settling it on your breast. He gave it a soft squeeze, placing a kiss right under your ear.

"You just wanted me to take care of you, yeah?" He cooed. "I'll take care of you, baby."

You let out a quiet moan. It was all he needed to twist your nipple through the cotton material of your dress, attaching his lips to your neck. He covered the sensitive skin there in slow, hot kisses. Your little mewls encouraged him to descend further down, brush against your collarbones before he lowered the front of your dress.

Beautiful.

He was already leaking and throbbing, fingers hooking into the soft cups of your bra to expose your breasts completely to his hungry eyes. With a grunt, he immediately wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking and twirling his tongue as your back arched.

You tasted sweet, so sweet he could barely restrain himself from bruising you with his mouth. He was getting impatient, desperate to bury his cock inside you and fuck you. But the dark night outside his window was so still, clocks no longer ticking under its spell. There was no need to rush. And every wet, open mouthed kiss he trailed down your body seemed to be messing with the mechanisms more, engines failing and falling apart in Father Time's tower.

His breathing came out heavier when he reached your navel, pushing the hem of your dress up your thighs. His fingertips danced across your skin, his nose brushing against the inside of your thigh. The only sign of you still being conscious was a small whimper that escaped you, delightful and thrilling to his ears.

Slowly, he revealed the black lace that hugged your curves, his eyes taking in every inch before focusing on the big, wet spot formed right in the middle. His breath caught in his throat.

He had no idea you'd be this wet. Just aching to be filled; or touched, or kissed. The beauty of it all was that you had no choice but to take whatever he was willing to give you. He could stand up, fuck your face and come all over it, leaving you to keep dripping and whining, unsatisfied and cold. Lonely.

But he would never do that. He promised he'd take care of you, didn't he? He had made this promise to himself even before he ever spoke it aloud. All he wanted was to love you. Worship you like you deserved.

"Baby," he sighed, his lips hovering just above your cute, soaked, covered clit. "Is this all for me?"

You only mewled, your head lolling to the side. Yoongi smiled, delicate fingers coming into contact with your mound only to pull your panties aside.

His cock twitched inside his jeans at the sight of you, bare, swollen and so fucking ready to be taken. He could practically see your little, empty hole clenching in need, wondering how it would feel if it did that around his dick.

He was moving forward before he even realized it, pink tongue poking out to rub into your slit. Your hips almost bucked; it was the most reaction you have shown so far, your breaths growing unsteady.

Yoongi could have came right then and there. If he thought you tasted sweet before, there were no words to describe it now, his tongue coated in the slick as it instantly dived in to taste more.

A deep, raspy hum escaped him. He sucked on your clit softly, feeling your leg twitch in response. He detached his mouth from you only to look up, murmur words of comfort even if that meant he'd die of thirst.

"It's okay."

He lifted himself up to climb on top of you again, dark eyes taking in your dilated pupils and parted lips. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek.

"Don't fight it, baby. Let yourself float away. I'll be here when you get back down."

Your eyes fluttered shut. Yoongi licked his lips before pressing a sweet, lingering kiss on each of your eyelids, a promise of protection behind the closed curtains, before his lips moved to hover above your ear.

"You'll wake up with me still inside you."

The uneasy, sharp intake of breath made him want to laugh. You couldn't quite keep up with the changes in his demeanor. There was no mystery to it, though. Of course Yoongi was the devil; nothing more, nothing less. But what kind of a devil didn't protect what he owned? You were his prey, his victim and his god all at once.

He stroked your hair, watching sleep take over you, dragging you deep, deep into a mute darkness. He let his forehead rest in the crook of your neck for a moment, trying his best not to let impatience take over him now and ruin everything.

But who was he kidding? There was no way he could hold back, and there was no need for that either. Not when he had so much time.

With a quiet groan, he unbuckled his belt, sliding his jeans down just enough to free himself of their tight confines and grip his cock. He pressed the flushed tip in between your soaked folds, pushing forward no more than an inch before he paused. His brows furrowed, sweat breaking over his body.

You were so warm and tight. He could feel you pulsing and leaking around him, the silky heat trying to suck him in deeper.

He was a goner.

With a curse and one, smooth thrust forward, he plunged the rest of his thick cock deep inside you and immediately set a pace. Low groans filled up the room, followed by the slick sound of skin slapping on skin.

Something about the way you couldn't respond or even move made his stomach clench. Utter devotion. Complete surrender. He could do whatever he wanted to you, and the fact had his cock throbbing, pushing him closer to the edge. He could kiss you, leave his imprint on your soul, then slap you and leave another one on your cheek. He could play with you in any way he liked, defile any hole he wanted. The thought prompted him to fuck you harder, shivers crawling up his spine. You'd probably wake up so beautifully bruised from the force of his thrusts, aching-

His stomach dropped low. Fuck, he could kill you. The realization hit him like a freight train. You were so, so fucked up, and so perfect. You put your body and soul into his hands, to damage, to love, to own completely.

He came hard, his head dropping into your neck. You clenched around his cock so much, in the haze he briefly wondered if you were coming too. He moaned, rutting his hips into you desperately, fucking his cum into like you deserved. Because honestly, what a slut. What a fucking angel.

Perfection personified.

In the morning, you came to rather... slowly. The curtains were closed, but daylight still broke through, casting some light into the dim room. Yoongi was right there, kissing you awake. Still buried deep inside you like he promised, feeling your walls tighten around him as your eyes fluttered open. A soft moan slipped past your lips, a shiver following when you registered the finger circling your nipple, hard and wet with his spit. He groaned, his thrusts slow and deep, though a new kind of fire ignited inside him as your eyes locked. He's been waiting so patiently for you to wake up, feel his cock stretching you open. React. Realize just how much he ruined you for any other man. Tell him you loved him.

Your back arched under him. You tried to wrap your arms around his neck, but something immediately halted your movements, holding your arms back.

The clinking of metal made your head snap up.

Yoongi stilled, observing you take in the handcuffs restraining you to the headboard. Confusion - then panic. Wide eyes, a gasp, combined with a clench.

Groaning, he started trailing soft kisses across your neck, his free hand squeezing your ass.

"You good?"

He repeated the same question he had asked you last night. You whimpered, your muscles still too weak to aid you in any attempts at resistance.

He smirked, pressing the next kiss under your ear.

"Name's Yoongi," he murmured. "Scream it, moan it, whine it all you want, baby. I wanna hear you. Don't worry - no one else will."

You quivered beneath him and around him, your breath catching in your throat when his hips rolled into you again, returning to their steady rhythm.

"Y-yoongi-" it was a whine, and it was enthralling to hear, as was the shakiness in your voice. "What are you doing?"

He moaned into your ear.

"What do you mean, baby? Did you expect me to ever let you go?"

He lifted his head to lean his forehead on yours, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. He felt your pulse race beneath his fingers, though he didn't press hard. He felt your pussy fluttering, too, a fresh wave of arousal flooding his cock. There was no denying your desires or your true nature.

"Don't even pretend you want that, angel. I'm gonna keep you. Yeah? Is that okay with you, babygirl? Would you like that, slut?"

You cried out, your thighs shaking around him as you came. Yoongi picked up his pace and fucked you all the way through it. Your orgasm quickly tipped him over the edge too, breathy, mindless praises falling from his lips.

Yeah, yeah, fuck, you little- ngh- you're mine, mine, mine, I'm gonna- fuck, yeah, good little girl.

Sensitive and spent, with his chest pressed against yours, he tried to catch his breath. Your heart seemed to be pounding in sync with his, fear and excitement mixing together to create a heady cocktail.

He lifted himself up, eyes hooded and hair messy, only to look down at you and kiss you again. Sip, sip, sip. There was no getting sober from this kind of liquor.

His lips moved against yours tenderly, with meaning, with purpose. With messages he needed to deliver.

You're safe with me.

Nothing in the world would ever hurt you again, except him. But you craved that. And he'd give you anything you'd ask for.

You're beautiful.

Filthy, pure, fucked up, perfect. In every way.

You're mine.

He sincerely hoped you wrote a heartfelt goodbye note to your old life, friends and family; or what he liked to call collateral damage. No one who helped you break yourself to pieces deserved to be around anymore, let alone around you.

It was time to start anew.

"Do your wrists hurt?" He sighed into your lips, barely stopping himself from diving in for another kiss.

You nodded slightly, your eyes still closed. Yoongi purred, his heart tightening in his chest. He had absolutely zero qualms about setting you free. This was what you wanted; no matter how much internal conflict you might have to go through. This was what you needed; for someone to take the weight of the world off your shoulders and bear it instead.

He unlocked the handcuffs and placed a few kisses onto your hands. You wouldn't run away. It was clear in the way you lay beneath him, accepting his affection with a flush, even if you did shake a little. Besides...

"I have a gift for you," he whispered, looking up at you. "From last night."

You exhaled softly, then froze as he leaned in to speak the next words into your ear, voice low and lips quirked upwards.

"How about a movie night, baby?"

💌 taglist: @wonyuknow @baalsgurl1913 @glowunderthemoon @bucketofhiros @era-genius @imnotlauriane @sweetempathprunetree @silv3rswirls @iceprincessviviane @osakis-gf @httpsbts @kooktrash

euphoria | M

PAIRING | jimin x reader x jungkook

GENRE | smut galore, some fluff, college!AU

WARNING | d/s undertones, M/F/M with MxM at points, double penetration, oral sex, deep throating, fingering, creampie, sloppy seconds, come eating, unprotected sex, basically PWP…

WORD C. | 8,876

A/N | i didn’t think i would ever write such a detailed threesome, but here we are! i love miss addie, @chinnychimchim, so i dedicate this fic to her because she has been supporting me through the whole process of writing it! i hope you guys enjoy, and have fun!

FOUR YEARS AGO

Neon lights dance across bare skin, acid greens and hot pinks playing with the eye as deafening music plays over and over on the dance floor, pulsating beat consuming every movement as if a heartbeat of its own.

Alcohol runs down your throat like water at this point, the atmosphere a little more hazy and blurry than it was twenty minutes ago—or was it two hours? You don’t remember, and at this point, you don’t really care.

Finals week is over, the accumulated stress and lack of sleep but a faint memory, swept away by tequila shots and colorful pills that makes creepy guys and expensive liquor more bearable to endure. Your mind is buzzing with euphoria, fingertips tingling with energy as the song reaches its peak, the beat drop creating a world of its own inside of your body as you let it carry your limbs, not a care in the world as you close your eyes and feel it.

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