Devil's Playthings | Myg

devil's playthings | myg

⤅ SUMMARY | Yoongi has been widowed for over 2 years now—long past the time of mourning—and has made no move to remarry. Despite all the eligible maidens trying to catch the rugged duke’s eye, he’s stayed stubbornly idle in his search for a wife. For a man at court, especially at Yoongi’s standing, remarrying was essential and highly expected; even though the man had heirs and his lineage was assured, a wife was a political move, and a highly coveted one. None of this slipped the young princess’ mind, her sharp eyes on the much older man. But Yoongi should be careful—“for Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do.”

⤅ RATE | 18+

⤅ PAIRING | (dilf)duke!yoongi × princess!reader

⤅ GENRE | royalty au, magic au, forbidden relationship

⤅ SIN | sloth (for the ✥ 7 Deadly Sins collab ✥)

⤅ WARNINGS | age gap, use of sex pollen, mentions of m!masturbation, dirty talk, slight (slight) degradation, marking, spitting, titty fuck, facial, deep throat, oral both!receiving, sixty nine, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, choking, breeding kink/breeding, spanking, squirting, hair pulling, clit slapping, cervix contact, overstimulation

⤅ WC | 9.3k

⤅ A/N | whoo it's finally here!! No one clown me for making even a royalty au a dilf fic 🤡 I also want to shout out @sunshinekims and @kithtaehyung for lending me their lovely names for this fic <3 and of course @sugasbabiie , who’s enthusiasm fueled me from the start <3 hope you guys enjoy! +

playlist + drabble

“Look who just arrived.”

Your back was turned to the door, where your lady-in-waiting had just discreetly gestured to. You caught the sly giggles of the women who had noticed the figure who had just entered the great hall. Hands held up to their faces to mask their shy smiles at just the sight of the man, eyes darting around the circle to meet another’s, going through the same predicament. The same thoughts running through every woman’s mind. You turned your head slightly, though you knew who it was before you even caught a glimpse of his squared shoulders. This notorious reaction always preceded him, the aura of a room changing whenever he stepped foot in it. The men suddenly became more concerned with getting into his good graces than the ladies they were courting, and the ladies more concerned with getting into something else.

His hair caught your attention first. He’d let it grow out since you’d last seen him, shaping into a framing mullet, with his bangs swooped to the side. The ends tickled his neck, threatening to grow past his shoulders. The suit he wore fit his frame perfectly, hinting at the taut muscles he hid under his prim shirt. It was embroidered down the side, encircling his bicep, and trailing down towards his pants. His hands glinted with every move, bedazzled with the copious amount of rings he always wore. He was a fan of wearing his wealth, the family emblem shining proudly on his pinky ring. His other fingers were covered in expensive jewels weaved into intricate designs, things he could have only gotten imported. Though, the way he rubbed his hands together unconsciously as he entered the lively room was nonchalant in nature, as if the jewels were a boring addition, ignoring all the eyes that turned to admire his figure.

“I heard his son got engaged.” Lady Hoyeon pointedly stated, with a very telling glance.

A gasp. “Before the duke?”

“You all know what he’s like. Is it any surprise that his son will be married before him?”

A wave of agreement rippled through the little circle you were standing in. You all knew the duke, and his notorious reputation. His wife had died many years ago, but the man still refused to remarry. As a favorite of the king, and a man of extremely high status and influence, he had long been the most eligible bachelor of the kingdom. That is, only if he was eligible. The duke had expertly avoided any and all attempts towards an engagement, even those maneuvered by the king himself. He politely declined, stating an interest in managing his estate and focusing on serving his country as a reason. The men around him had started out teasing him, joking about whether he could manage anything before getting someone to see to his business. But Yoongi took all the jokes in stride, silently taking the other men’s jabs with a humored expression. With time, people stopped pestering the seasoned duke, assuming he found more comfort in the occasional dalliances that paid companionship could offer. They left the man to his business, rumors of wild nights heard through his chamber doors spreading through the servants and the nobility overtaking any other gossip about the duke’s reluctance to marry.

But still, marriage was a must. At least at royal court. All the companionship in the world couldn’t replace the giant social hole. And it was becoming unseemly for a man reaching his age to grow older without a partner, without someone to stand at his side at important events, someone to parade on his arm as a compliment to his stature and position. And now, his own son was getting married before him. It was causing a shock, to say the least.

“Well, what did you expect?” Lady Sophie lowered the glass of wine she’d been sipping. “The man lost his wife years ago. Probably doesn’t even know how to love again.”

“What’s love got to do with it?” Lady Kiana snorted, “All he needs is someone to drape on his arm during the day, and someone to keep his bed warm at night.”

“I volunteer as tribute,” Lady Irma muttered from behind her glass, making you all fall into a fit of laughter.

“I doubt your husband would take kindly to that, Irma,” Sophie chuckled.

“Oh, he’d be just fine. He’s been trying to woo the duke with a new estate he purchased off the riverbank, anyway. I think he’s got a bit of a crush on him, if I’m completely honest.” Irma glanced over at the man in question, who had approached Yoongi with a bow and an outstretched hand, that was visually trembling from here. “He’d happily share his wife if it earned him the duke’s favor. And hey, I’ll take it.”

Taehyung was rapidly speaking, from what you could tell, holding Yoongi’s attention for as long as he could. As an older member of the privy council, you know that Yoongi had taken Taehyung under his wing when he had first joined. The young man put Yoongi on a pedestal, never failing to seek out his advice or earn his compliments.

Though Yoongi was quickly scouted out by his fellow senior council member, Lord Seokjin, waving over to him to invite him to where he and Lord Namjoon were drinking with the head mage, Jung Hoseok. With a quick goodbye, he left Taehyung’s side and joined his friends, leaving Taehyung to sulk back into his own circle, earning him a clap on the back from Lord Jimin with a teasing punch from mage Jungkook.

“Are they announcing it tonight? Mini Min and his new bride-to-be?” Kiana asked, looking over at the large feast set up for the event. “At the winter festival, no less.”

“The girl is from the eastern province. Magic and wizardry are highly considered there when planning nuptials.” Irma pointed out. “I’m sure this is about to be the wedding of her dreams, what, with all the celebrations for the patron saint of magic and all.”

“What about you, yn?” Lady Ho Yeon turned the attention on you. “Didn’t you have a brief… dalliance with the duke?” The dramatic way she emphasized "dalliance" with a teasing glint in her eye made the other ladies fall into giggles, earning a curt shove from you. You raised your glass to your mouth to hide the smile you couldn’t help forming.

“And at your age, too. Not to mention your status, your highness.” Irma straightened up and raised her eyebrow very noble-like, to demonstrate. “No wonder you two are trying to keep hush.”

“Well, of course. Those young bucks weren’t going to keep her busy for long.” Kiana added. You rolled your eyes at their insinuations. Yes, you were a princess. But a spoiled one. And that didn’t end at your bedroom doors. Sue you, you liked sex!

You tried hard to hide the grin threatening to expose your emotions, but failed miserably, confirming their words and giving way to the squealing fit that followed.

“Come on, now you must share the details,” Sophie prodded. “You can’t deprive us of that experience.”

“Publically, I have no idea what you all are on about.” You announced, earning you teasing shoves from the ladies around you. “Privately, however…”

The other ladies leaned in with perked ears as you spoke quietly, “Privately, let’s just say I spent two days with him, and needed two more to recuperate.” Irma let out a loud squeal as Sophie faked a fainting. You shh’d them with a laugh, trying to hold back the heat rushing to your face at the thought of those nights. Those animalistic nights you’d spent with the rugged man. One weekend wasn’t nearly enough.

“Our baby’s all grown up,” Kiana wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “So when’s the wedding?”

“What wedding?” You shrugged. “Last I checked, he was still the Duke.” You tried to school your face back into impassiveness, but the rise of heat to your face wouldn’t let you.

“Yn. You can’t seriously tell me that’s all it was. We’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Ho Yeon’s words were matched with nods from your other ladies.

“Shoot, the other day I thought the room was going to erupt with the way you two were eyeing each other.” Irma fanned her face dramatically.

“I was there!” Sophie corroborated excitedly, ignoring your protest. “I really thought they were going to do it right there, on the ballroom floor.”

“Anyways!” Your voice rose above their giggling and teasing. “You all know how my father would feel about it.” You pouted. “He would never marry off his darling daughter to a man who’s lived at least two of my lives.”

“If only the king knew what the duke has already done to his darling daughter,” Irma snorted, earning gasps from the other ladies as they clapped their hands over their mouths in an attempt to hide their laughter as you shoved her in retaliation while battling to keep a indignant face.

“Not to mention, hasn’t the lord chancellor’s son already shown an interest in you?” Sophie pointed out. Once she’d recovered from doubling over in laughter, of course.

“Of course, a young suitor your age. I’m sure it’ll be an advantageous match.” Kiana added. There was a hum of agreement in the circle. You nodded absent-mindedly, but you had no interest in such a marriage. Your eyes sought out another. And what the princess wants, the princess gets.

“Hey,” Lady Ryen suddenly emerged with a pout, “My husband ditched me for the most eligible bachelor, or whatever. They’ll be announcing their own engagement any day now, the way they’re attached at the hip.”

“Here, take my seat.” You quickly stood up, “And my drink. You’ll need it to survive those two’s flirting all night.” She took the cup from your hand gratefully, seamlessly joining in on the conversation in your place.

Your eyes scanned the crowded room, entertainment meeting your gaze at every turn. The fire breathers in the corner, the elves throwing up a display of magic, the oompa loompas performing with a song. You finally found what you were looking for, beelining for the large table set up against the wall.

“So what was I supposed to do? I told her, I said ‘My lady, that is not my gold trim, but I will take credit for it.’” A loud chorus of laughter followed Hoseok’s words, the mage’s story sending his acquaintances into a riot.

“Now why would you do her like that, ‘Seok?” Namjoon shook his head. “She was clearly into you.” There was an old tradition of an unmarried woman wearing a handkerchief on her belt as a sign of her eligible status. Any suitor that was interested would have to retrieve that handkerchief, typically through a dance, or discreetly, and line it with a gold trim to present to her at the next event. If the maiden accepted the courtship, she would wear the gold trimmed handkerchief on her waist. If not, she would tie a new blank handkerchief on as a signal that she was still available.

And Hoseok had taken full advantage. “What poor, shy bloke did you rob that maiden of.” Seokjin laughed. “Spent his last dollar on that gold trim, and at the end of the night, she ended up in your bed.”

The mage threw his arms up and shrugged. “What was I supposed to do? Not accept her invitation?” Sending the men into another chorus of laughter.

“Well I don’t approve,” Namjoon announced, trying to hide his slight smile behind his glass as he took a sip.

“Well, naturally. Gold trims do bring up a painful memory.” Seokjin snickered. A quick glare from Namjoon, and he burst out into a full on laugh, as did the others. Namjoon couldn’t deny it, though. He bowed his head in remembrance.

“I’ll never forget it. Why you thought hiding the handkerchief in Sophie’s cake was a good idea is beyond me.” Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“Poor girl spent the whole day worrying over it, looking everywhere because she was expecting you to give it to her. Damn near on the verge of tying a new one to her waist. And the whole day, Joon was just grinning like an idiot. Didn’t realize she’d be marrying a fool till she stuck her fork into her slice, and pulled it out like it was a magic trick.” Seokjin chuckled. Namjoon sunk into his seat, a pout on his face.

“The look she gave you. She was so irritated, but you could tell she was trying not to show it. And Joon just looked back with the biggest smile on his face.” Hoseok chimed in. “How you managed to salvage that fumble, I’ll never know.”

“She said it was cute,” Namjoon grumbled, sending the men into a loud teasing frenzy about she was just sparing your feelings and she just felt bad for a tall lanky bloke like you. Let you walk past their chambers at night, though. You’ll know that’s not the case.

A gloved hand suddenly appeared in front of Yoongi’s face holding an intricate, folded white card. “My lord, I was told to deliver this to you.”

Yoongi took the small note from the attendant, dismissing him with a nod of his head. The front of the notecard was intricate in design, but had no indication of who the note was from. He skeptically opened it, resulting in a handkerchief falling from inside and into his lap. He heard loud whoops and teasing from the circle around him, knowing his friends were surely not going to let this go anytime soon. But Yoongi was too busy examining the fabric, the owner dawning on him as he saw your signature rose embroidered into its side.

His eyes quickly flitted to the note, your neat handwriting swooping through the page in calligraphic curves and designs. He didn’t miss the hearts above the “i”s. Another trademark of yours. The content of the note itself, however, had him shaking his head as he fought off a smile.

“Idle hands are the devil’s playthings.”

“Yoongi’s got a secret admirer,” Hoseok’s loud voice caught his attention, a shove distracting his best friend.

“What else is new?” Seokjin shook his head with a smile as he sipped his drink. “Every week, a different maiden throws her handkerchief at his feet. And what does our most eligible bachelor do?”

“Step around it.” Namjoon answered, a loud guffaw of laughter following his words. He exchanged high-fives with Seokjin at their joint wit, enjoying teasing their stoic friend.

Yoongi shook his head with a small smile on his face, letting their words run down his back like water. His mind was preoccupied at the moment, anyway. If it wasn’t your coquettish eyes catching his gaze from across the room, or the clandestine wink you'd send when he’d bow in front of his king, the princess right by her father’s side. It’s sending him your handkerchief, and making your intentions starkly clear. You knew what you wanted. And you made sure he knew it, too. The fiery young princess who wouldn’t let him forget her.

Yoongi’s body was on fire.

He felt as though his skin was crawling with an itch he couldn’t scratch, a taunting in the form of heat and sweat ripping through his body. He tore the buttons off of his suit as he stumbled back to his quarters, dying to do anything to relieve himself. His once perfectly styled hair was falling in threads over his forehead, his skin shining with the thin layer of sweat coating it.

He didn’t know what had come over him. One second, he was sitting in the banquet hall, enjoying his wine and warding off his friends’ teases. The next, Yoongi had started to sweat like a pig, and his skin had felt like a thousand fire ants were marching on it. To make matters worse, a problem… arose in his pants. The tightening of his crotch area making him restless, exacerbating his already problematic symptoms. That’s when he excused himself, turning in early because he wasn’t feeling well. Of course, the men didn’t believe him for a second, Hoseok’s calls of “not staying up too late” making it clear what kind of company they thought he was keeping tonight.

And honestly, with the swollen bulge in his trousers, the idea didn’t sound half bad. With each step he took towards his room, the need for either a douse of cold water or a hand down his pants seemed inevitable. He felt the need to rip his clothes off, and take care of his problem as soon as possible.

Lord, what had gotten into him? There had been no noticeable difference in the evening to cause such a change. The only thing was… the note. Was he really that affected by the young princess?? Did just the thought of you arouse such a passionate reaction in him? So much so that he had to escape the suffocating room and jolly back to his quarters, just to give himself the privacy to relieve himself while picturing you? He wouldn’t be surprised. The hold you had on him was powerful.

Yoongi never thought he’d feel so strongly for a woman again, not after his wife passed away. He was devastated for years, refusing to even look at another woman. He expected to live out the rest of his days alone, in a cold bed too big for just him. He’d accepted that fact long ago.

Until you came along.

You with your pretty eyes, and pouty lips. And getting exactly what you wanted every time. How could he resist you, when you’d bat your eyelashes so nicely? When you’d find him walking back to his room late at night, only to offer him company? How could he say no, when your giggle is all he could think about, when your voice is all he heard?

Late at night, he’d be working in his study, the candlelight his only company. But somehow, his eyes would trail over the page and retain nothing, for your face was all he could see. Your soft touch was all he could feel. Those nights, the duke was knocked off his pedestal by a young princess as he indulged in those thoughts, and became an indecent man. Gripping his aching cock in his hand, and leaning back. The already hot room getting only hotter as his soft pants got louder and louder, until he’d hiss your name and stain his priceless tunic, sweat glistening on his skin when he’d slouch in his seat, heavy pants echoing his sinful actions. How could he abstain from you?

Here’s how: you were off limits.

Not only were you the king’s daughter. The king, his superior, the man he worked for. And more importantly, the man who had the power to take off his head. But you were the king’s young daughter, only newly of marrying age. And he, well. He was your father’s age. The rumours that would spread if the people so much as heard of him courting you, let alone what else you’ve done….

Yoongi couldn’t court you in good faith, not with all those obstacles in the way. No matter how much he wanted to. Though, none of that seemed to bother you. He chuckled to himself as he remembered your stubborn nature. Lying in bed, your body pressed against his that one fateful weekend, the one weekend he let himself indulge in you, the only time he’d allowed himself to be weak. As you swore you’d convince your father. Reminding him of how advantageous it would be, him gaining a wife for social status. A princess, no less.

But there was no way you two could be together. It would never be accepted. He’d come to terms with it, after much grappling and chagrin. But he was weak in his disposition, and one soft blow from you had the strength to change his mind.

Little did he know that you knew that.

Yoongi pushed his bedroom door open with a clang, hurling himself into his room and slamming the door shut behind him. He stumbled over to the dresser, clutching it tightly for balance as he tried to regain his footing. The fire was spreading through his veins now, running through his body with a tingling sensation. Making his symptoms quite clear to him as his cock ached unbearably in his pants, begging to be let out of its tight confines.

And Yoongi wasn’t going to deny himself any longer. Now, in the privacy of his own room, he was free to rip his clothes off, relishing in the cool air that touched his hot skin. He splashed some water onto his face from his basin, dipping some over his hair as well and pushing his bangs back, shaking the water out. His heavy breaths occupied the otherwise quiet room.

In his haste, in his rush to relieve himself of the scorching heat rioting against his skin, and the boner about to pop in his pants, the otherwise sharp duke had neglected to notice a foreign presence in his quarters. Or rather, a foreign someone, perched sweetly on his sheets.

“Poor baby, you don’t look so good.”

Yoongi’s head whipped around at the familiar voice, startled. He thought he was hallucinating, another violent symptom of whatever ailment had gripped him. His mind conjuring up your picture to satisfy his upright cock. And not just any picture. You, sat on his bed, in extremely lacy undergarments that seemed to be half the length of what they were supposed to be, hiding very little from the eye. Lord, he shut his eyes, silently begging to the sky, don’t do this to him now.

You met his gaze with a nonchalant expression, almost bored. Your signature pout was painted on your face, a sign of the times. “What’s got you all hot and heavy?”

Your voice was sickly sweet, and your tone made your question seem so innocent. As if you were asking him about the weather. And not the very intentional euphemism you had actually intended. The naughty glint in your eyes only confirming it.

“Yn- you s-shouldn’t be here—,” his knuckles whitened as he gripped the table harder, trying his best to stand upright and not collapse onto his knees in front of you. But it was getting harder to fight his urges. He needed to release. And he needed to do it soon.

You watched him with your head resting in your palm, eyes following his every move. Your head cocked to the side as palmed himself through his boxers, on the one hand trying to be discreet because you were in the room. And on the other not giving a fuck, because he couldn’t help himself. You almost felt bad for his suffering. Almost.

“Did you like my note?” You ask, with an unconscious bat of your eyelashes.

Yoongi looked at you incredulously. Of course you were going to bring up your other euphemism. Idle hands are the devil’s playthings. The double meaning of your note, both referring to his sloth tendencies in taking a wife, and his reluctance to touch you. What you wanted him to do with those idle hands was very clear, as your eyes narrowed on his long fingers.

And it was very convenient that you happened to be here, in his moment of need, alluding to offering yourself up… Almost as if you knew this was going to happen to him, the note clueing him into your foresight. He looked down at his hands, then his head shot back up to look at you. Then back at his hands to confirm. The small sparkling dust was almost invisible to the eye now that he’d rubbed off most of it. But he still caught a glimpse. Confirming what he suspected.

“The note…” Yoongi’s mind raced. He reached the conclusion much faster than you expected, but what else would a genius yield? His eyes looked up at yours, dark gaze with a glimmer of pleading, “Tell me you didn’t dust the note in sex pollen, yn. And that this wasn’t your doing.”

You blinked at him innocently. But the smirk you were holding back was fighting it's way onto your face. “Oops?” You shrugged. “It must have slipped out of my hands.

Yoongi let out a monstrous groan, both from the pain in between his legs and the confirmation from your words. He couldn’t help but sink down onto his bedroom bench, his back to you. His head was thrown back and his breathy pants filled the air. Yoongi tried to resist and maintain his composure. He really did. He tried not to think about how you were sitting right behind him, almost certainly getting ready to crawl your way over to him. He tried not to think about all the ways you’d touch him and make him feel things he hadn’t felt in years.

But you were making it excruciatingly difficult.

He felt your presence before he heard your voice, your breathy whisper tickling his neck as you leaned in, soft voice like a melody. “Please use me as relief, Yoongi. I’m right here.”

He turned around to look into your sincere eyes. You were on your hands and knees, waiting pretty for his answer. Your big eyes were almost pleading, begging him to use you as he deemed fit. To throw you into his sheets, and fuck you deep into the mattress. To use your body round after round as he worked the effects of the sex pollen off, taking orgasm after orgasm. As much as you’d give. Until he had worn himself out, and his cock deemed it fit. You were willing to indulge him in all those fantasies, just waiting to be covered and stuff in his seed. Reaping the rewards of your sin.

But not just that. You were asking him for more—To use you as fulfillment of his social status, as the object to break out of his indolent rut. You wanted him to take you, and make you his. In every essence of the word. You wanted him to claim you, brand you with not only his hands and marks, but with a gold trim on your handkerchief. With his family emblem shining on your finger. In front of god, in front of your father, and all others who bore witness.

He wanted it too. He wanted you in his bed every night, and to see your face first thing every morning. He wanted to make you laugh everyday just to hear your giggle, and see you smile. He wanted to shower you with expensive things, and gift you anything your heart desired. He wanted you to look at him the way you’re looking at him now. Full of trust and desire. He wanted you by his side, and to stand by yours. No matter the consequence.

Your face was within an inch of his when he’d turned to meet your gaze. The tension that those few centimeters held could be cut with a knife. He hesitated, eyes falling to your lips. Your perfect pouty lips. He decided right then and there that it was time to break out of his idle sin, and indulge in your heavenly gates.

His lips crashed into yours hard, making you moan out at the sudden lustful attack. His hand wrapped into your hair, resting at the base of your neck. Giving him the perfect leverage to pull you closer, and hold you pressed against him. Allowing him to graze your lips with his tongue, shoving his way in before you had a chance to breathe. Your soft hands brushed against his face, trailing down his neck hesitantly, looking for something to hold onto for dear life as Yoongi engulfed you. The little whimpers that fell from your lips as you ardently tried to match his fervor was like music to his ears.

He climbed over you, pushing you back to the head of the bed. He gripped your waist, impatient with your scooting, and moved you up himself. You landed with a bounce against his pillows, momentarily disconnected from his lips. Yours were already swollen, covered in his spit. The way you gnawed at it as you waited for him to reattach his mouth to yours sent blood rushing to his already hard cock. He couldn’t wait any longer, not with you looking up at him like this.

“This lacy shit is cute,” he complimented, touching the fabric with a hand. You gasped as a tearing sound ripped through the air, the once frilly lingerie wrapping your body now in shreds in Yoongi’s hand. You glared up at his cocky smirk. “But it’s in the way.”

The cool air kissed your skin, making you shudder slightly. But you didn’t notice the cold, not with Yoongi shifting and gripping his cock in his hands right in front of your face. “Tits together, sweetheart. You’ve edged me long enough.”

“Now, if you really think about it—umph!” You were in the middle of spitting out an excuse as to why his blue balls wasn’t really your fault. But Yoongi, sensing your brat tendencies, was quick to shove his dick into your mouth to shut you up.

“Don’t play with me,” he growled, tapping your cheek with a few light slaps. You looked up at him with big eyes and a full mouth, patiently waiting for his next command. Once he knew you weren’t going to act up, he slowly pulled himself out. You didn’t wait to be told after, pushing your breasts together obediently. A smile graced his face, and he nuzzled your cheek with his hand at your good behavior.

“What a good girl,” He stroked his cock a few times, looking down at your willing figure. You looked so cute, holding your tits together and looking up at him expectantly. It made him want to brand you.

A glob of spit splattered against your chest and trickled down the valley of your breasts, a slapping sound associating with the second spat that hit your chest. You looked up at the perpetrator, cocky grin plastered on his face as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You look so pretty covered in my spit, princess.”

His handsome concentrated face let him get away with anything. And he knew it. He guided his aching monster of a cock, all red and bulbous, in between your breasts. He looked about ready to burst. He threw his head back with a groan as he slid into the cushioned opening you’d made for him, slick from his expectorance and creating an easy slide. He rubbed in your makeshift cocksleeve a few times, finally getting that relief he’d been burning for all night. It felt so good, he didn’t know how long he’d last. Or how slow he’d be able to go.

Your mouth was wide open for the taking, poised and ready for when Yoongi started to pick up his thrusts. Rougher and sloppier with his pace as he gripped the headboard behind you, sliding messily in between your tits and hitting your mouth. Your tongue was out, leading his cock up your chest and straight into your wet hole. Drool pooled at the side of your mouth as you kept your mouth open, but you didn’t care. Holding yourself perfectly still and available for Yoongi to use as he pleased.

He caught a glimpse of you in his haze, his orgasm building up quickly. You had your head bent down, eager to have him deeper in your mouth. He chuckled to himself before giving one hard thrust, surprising you and hitting the back of your throat. You let out a squeal at the intrusion, looking up at him with your wide eyes. Only to stick your tongue back out and beg for more.

“My pretty little cocksleeve.” He cooed, no longer capable of holding back. He was teetering on the edge of release, and your little antics weren’t helping. “Wanna be used by me so badly, hm? And princess always gets what she wants.”

You mewled at his words, your mouth full of cock as he stuffed it down your throat. You were taking small, short breaths through your nose to compensate for the lack of air, but you were starting to feel dizzy. Out of pleasure or pain, who knows?

Yoongi relented soon enough, though. Not being able to hold back any longer, he pulled his dick out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting from your mouth to him as he stood up to his full height on the bed above you. Head thrown back, mouth ajar, muscles flexed as he gripped the headboard, his other hand pumping himself to completion. With a loud grunt, and an intentional pump, he released his semen above you, leading to a splatter right on your face and chest. You shut your eyes as he came, but your mouth was wide open, trying to catch everything you could. You heard his sigh of relief, prompting you to then open your eyes and meet his. Just to stick your tongue out and try to taste what didn’t make it into your mouth.

“Fucking filthy,” Yoongi chuckled breathlessly. He sunk down to his knees, your body still beneath him. Watching his every move. He leaned down to engulf your figure, big arm placed next to your head as he teased a kiss, ghosting over your lips. Until you whined and pawed at his chest. Only then did he finally press his lips to yours deeply.

Despite having just released, Yoongi felt a strange blood rush to his cock yet again. Almost as though the orgasm just a second ago had never happened. He pulled away from you to look down and confirm what he suspected.

Hard as rock.

He shook his head as he cursed. He’d heard about this, how sex pollen worked. It lasted different lengths for different people. But it about looked like it’s grip wasn’t going to loosen on Yoongi anytime soon.

“Baby,” He flipped off of you, sitting upright and leaning against the headboard. His hand automatically wrapped around his cock, pumping his upright, leaking shaft. “I need you to take care of this.”

As soon as you sat up, his hand guided your head down to face his dick, his thumb swiping against your lips teasingly when you got close enough. You repositioned your body so that you were ass up, on his side, bending down to his will. You were an inch away from him as he stroked your hair, muttering encouragement under his breath.

With your tentative lick to his shaft, he let out a hiss. You slowly wrapped your small hand around him, licking up the side from the base to the top like an ice cream cone. He let out a breathless moan, shifting beneath you. His hand applied more pressure to your head, pushing your mouth towards his dick further. He was getting impatient. You should know; sex pollen escalates quickly, and doesn’t give you a moment to breath.

You looked up at him and met his gaze as you sunk down on his cock, fitting as much of him as possible in your mouth. He cursed under his breath, his face contorting into one of pleasure. You let your drool slobber over him, keeping your mouth wide open as you relaxed your throat, ready to take him deeper.

“Such a good girl, trying to take me all in one go.” He stroked the side of your cheek sweetly as you bent your head down, pushing him further down your throat until you were coughing, having to relinquish him and come up for air. Yoongi tugged your head back as you took a deep breath, making you yelp and meet his eyes. “Aw, princess, can’t you take me? You promised me so many things,” he sighed, “Guess you can’t deliver.”

Your eyes narrowed ambitiously at his sneer, whimpering at the thought of him being dissatisfied with you. In your heart of hearts, you knew Yoongi was only teasing. Pushing your buttons, pulling your strings. His eyes glinted with that mischievous streak. But you also knew Yoongi was uncharacteristically impatient right now, the sex pollen urging him to empty his balls as quickly as possible. He’d tell you anything if it got you back on his cock.

You pushed your hair out of your face as you knelt back down, taking him into your open mouth and pushing him down deep in your throat. You worked through the constriction and tears brimming in your eyes as you swallowed him down. Bobbing your head a few times, encouraged by his grunts and moans, you kept your tears back as long as you could. Only when you couldn’t take it a second longer, did you pull off of him.

Only to switch to his balls instead. You took one in your mouth as your hand worked his slick cock, licking and sucking before switching to the other ball. You moaned as you felt him thrust into your hand, his balls moving in conjunction with his hips and knocking into your mouth. You let it go with a pop, switching back to his cock. This time, opting for long strokes of your hand paired with a quick bobbing of your mouth.

“Fuck, princess, just like that.” Yoongi grunted, his hand tangled in your hair as you sucked him. Hollowing your cheeks, loud slurping noises overtook the room as you quickened your pace.

Yoongi couldn’t take it much longer, his sensitivity already heightened from his previous orgasm. And you. He watched you work hard on his cock, relegating yourself from Princess, a member of the royal family, the divine monarchy, chosen by god to rule. To a mere cockslut at his convenience. A mere whore for him to fuck and use.

“C’mere, baby.” He tapped your ass, nudging your hips over to him. You stopped your actions, confused at first. You thought you were doing something wrong. Until he pulled your legs toward him, and sunk down onto the pillow, gesturing to his mouth. You hesitantly moved one knee over him to the other side of his head, peeking under you to check if that’s what he wanted you to do. Yoongi’s grope of your ass before he pulled your hips down to meet his face gave you your answer.

You let out a moan at the first lick against your wet heat. “Fuck. You got this wet just from making me cum?” Yoongi spread your ass cheeks, fully examining your wet cunt. You whimpered in response, wiggling your hips in self-consciousness. He landed a quick spank to your clit, making you shudder. “You get off on it, being mine to use. Don’t you?”

His words shouldn’t’ve made a tingle go down your spine and send heat straight to your core. But you couldn’t argue—just the thought of the old bachelor doing whatever he wanted to you had you drenching your undergarments. Rushing to your room every night after seeing him, and dismissing your servants quickly before hiding under the covers. Moaning in his name in the confidence of night.

Yoongi didn’t waste a second, dying to quench his thirst of you. He engulfed your pussy with his mouth, wrapping his lips around your hole and sucking. Devouring your pooling cunt. His mouth was relentless, his tongue running over your folds ruthlessly as he lapped up every last drop. Your hand moved up his dick at a steady pace, but you struggled as he munched your pussy with heated fervor.

It wasn’t long before his tongue was prodding at your hole, making you squeal out as he circled our wet opening. You tried to put your mouth on him to distract yourself, moving up and down his cock swiftly, trying to establish a pace. But you had to come back up to moan as his tongue shoved its way inside, thrusting into your pussy. You clenched tightly as his lower lip brushed against your clit with each lick.

Face pressed to your cunt, you couldn’t help but grind your hips down. Earning a swift slap to your ass and a stunt of your hips. “Put your mouth back on my cock, where it belongs. Now.”

You jumped at the command. But he was right—you’d gotten too distracted with his magic tongue (and that wasn’t a result of the sex pollen, you knew…) and started to neglect your duties. You amended quickly, sinking back down on him and working him over. Like an obedient little whore.

He, on the other hand, was revelling in the choked whimpers and mewls that he was pulling from you, lapping at your folds like he was a starved man. And technically, he was. Depriving himself of you for too long, this moment was like taking a sip from the holy grail.

He pulled back to admire your mess of a pussy, tattered and soaked from his ministrations. Your hole fluttered with anticipation. He wanted to make an even bigger mess, though. Wasn’t satisfied like this just yet.

His long fingers trailed over your cunt, feeling their way around before shoving bluntly inside you. His mouth latched back onto your clit as he scissored you open on his fingers, feeling you struggle to keep your hips still. He wasn’t any different—except he wasn’t doing a thing to stop his cock from thrusting into your mouth as your hand hovered helplessly, now useless. You kept your head still, letting him hit new depths in your throat as you gagged around him.

“My perfect girl—fuck—know just what I like,” his sentences turned into loud groans as he approached his end. But he wasn’t about to let you go unscathed. His other hand joined his first one, now replacing his mouth as filthy words spewed from him, rubbing mercilessly at your clit as the other one thrust two fingers into your heat. It was getting impossible to keep your hips still, his angling of his fingers pushing you to grind down on him frantically. With a few more thrusts and stimulation of your clit, you were squirting all over his fingers, spewing your arousal as he worked you through it, drawing as much as he could. He was close to follow after you’d gone through your orgasm, but how he made you cum first after being affected by sex pollen… you would never know.

His thrusts got brutal as your hand wrapped back around his cock, waiting with an open mouth. With one hard thrust and a loud growl, he shot his semen straight past your lips, the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat. His hand had unconsciously wrapped around your head, keeping you still and making sure you took every last drop. Once he was spent, he nudged your chin back to him. You opened your mouth to show him the mess he made inside, made a show of swallowing it, and showing him it was all gone after.

“Baby, you take my seed so well.” He stroked your hair breathlessly. He was accustomed to the tingling feeling by now, the telltale sign of blood rushing back into his cock. Already ready to go again. That little display of yours didn’t help, either.

He tugged you up by your hand, settling you comfortably in his lap. He caught your lips in a searing kiss, the force pushing you back if it wasn’t for his hand resting behind your head, pushing you back into him.

He took the opportunity to flip you over, never disconnecting your lips as he crowded your body with his muscle-y one. “Mm—think you can take my cock in this tight little hole?” He brushed his fingers over your heat teasingly. You let out an indignant whine, in between kisses, nodding fervently. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to draw him in.

“So desperate—okay, okay. Relax, I’ll give it to you good, baby.” He detached himself from you for a second to line his cock up with your entrance, getting ready to push him. You let out a curse, wrapping your arms around his neck, as he entered you, stretching your walls in accommodation as he sunk into your wet heat.

“You okay?” He rubbed soothing circles on your hips as you adjusted to his full length buried at the hilt. You gave him a small nod, burying your face in his chest as he started to move again. He pulled out at a slow pace, and pushed back in a little bit harder. He gradually quickened his thrusts, moving a bit rougher and harsher each time.

Until he found his steady pace, pistoning his hips into yours unrelentingly. Your moans filled the room as you scratched at his back, legs kicking from the belligerent thrusts. His mouth had latched onto your neck, nipping and sucking marks into your skin roughly. He’d pulled your head to the side by your hair to give him more access, trailing his branding to areas that would be very visible once you’d put on your gown.

“The whole castle’s gonna know you’re mine.” He growled in between marking. “What you’ve done to me, how you’ve affected me. Everyone’s gonna know about this little stunt you pulled, princess.”

He pulled back to admire the bruises blossoming on your skin, telltale signs of his mouth. Satisfied with the art, his arm reached over your head to grip the headboard behind you, giving him more leverage to angle his hips into you. His bicep bulged above you, hovering over your face as he tightened his hand around the metal. He looked down at you to catch your awed gaze at his muscles, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“This what you wanted?” His other hand held one of your legs up, giving him a new angle to thrust his hips at. With one hard buck of his hips, he caught your attention, snapping you out of your haze. You let out a whine as your hand clutched his chest in an attempt to steady yourself. His new angle allowed him to jostle your body with each thrust, him towering over you as he delivered your reckoning. “You wanted me to get so worked up I’d fuck you into my mattress?”

You mewled in response. He wasn’t wrong, you both knew that. Shame burned your face as he spoke your intentions out loud. But deep down, you weren’t sorry at all.

“Went through so much trouble, just to get me in this position, little minx.” He grunted as his pace quickened, slapping his hips into yours. His balls hit your ass with each thrust, and loud squelching sounds came from in between your legs.

Yoongi let the headboard go to grip your face in his hand, making you look up to meet his eyes. “You wanted to be my wife so bad?” He leans down, hovering over your lips as his dark eyes maintain contact with yours. “How about bearing my kids, hm?”

You let out an incoherent noise as your hole clenched tightly around his cock. You couldn’t help yourself, or the heat that rushed straight to your core when he said those words. Your grip on his bicep tightened. Yoongi grinned at your reaction, fucking you harder. “Are you desperate for me to plant my seed inside you, have you carry my heirs?”

“Yes—yes—yes, oh—please!” You cried out, wriggling under his touch. You hated that domestic insinuation with anyone else but him. For Yoongi, you’d swell up and carry as many children as he wanted you to, revelling in the fact that that was a branding of its own. You, heavily pregnant with the duke’s children, signaling to everyone that the young princess belonged to him, and him to you. You wanted that so badly.

Yoongi cursed at your desperate pleading, taking a more tactical turn. He pulled out of you, ignoring your cries and sobs. Flipping you over onto your stomach, you let out a muffled scream as he shoved your face into his pillows, pulling your hips up behind you so that your ass was in the air. He rubbed his cock against your folds before shoving it back in. A drawn out moan left your lips as he restarted his previous brutal pace.

“Gonna fuck my kids right into you,” he groaned. “Get you nice and pregnant.” His hips slammed against yours repeatedly, hitting deeper with each thrust. You could feel him getting more determined, the tip of his cock reaching your cervix. Each plunge had him brushing against it, eventually starting to bruise it.

“Gonna parade you all around this castle.” His hand came down to wrap around your throat, gently squeezing as he lifted your head up. “Make sure everyone knows you’re Duke Min’s property.”

You couldn’t speak. Gasping and crying in pleasure, you couldn’t formulate a single sentence. You just let him manhandle you around, sending your body into a jolting frenzy with each thrust of his hips, his hand limiting your air supply and making you feel so good and dizzy. You were drunk off of him, willing to do whatever he asked.

Your hole clenched fiercely as you neared your end. Fluttering and leaking, the warning signs alerted Yoongi to your position. Lucky for you, he couldn’t hold back any longer anyway—not with the way you looked right now. All spread and ready to take his seed.

“You wanna come, sweetheart?” His voice was soft, in stark opposition to the lewd sounds filling the room. Your pitiful nod sent a warm feeling shooting through his heart.

His hand came down to fiddle at your clit, your battered and bruised pussy in his hands as he found the sensitive little bundle of nerves. His long fingers worked at it ardently, rubbing hard circles as the tips of his fingers brushed against your folds.

“There you go,” he talked you through as you reached your peak, continuing his feverish pace at your clit while his cock hit deep into your pussy. You spasmed and clenched tightly around him with a scream of his name, shaking and trembling as your arousal gushed out. His hand grabbed at your cunt, squeezing tightly and milking you for all you were worth. You spilled out all over his cock, completely spent and falling down limply onto the bed.

You whined out as his fingers continued to grope at your folds, overstimulating you to the point of tears. “Keep it tight, just like that.” Yoongi commanded. He wasn’t far behind you, and he wanted to come as you clenched your hole tightly, determined on drawing another orgasm out of you.

With a few more strokes, his hips were stuttering. He buried himself deep into your pussy, focused on shooting his seed as close to your womb as possible. An ungodly amount of cum shot out in ropes, coating your inner walls. His fingers continued to touch you, letting you scream out as another orgasm shook you at the same time as him. Yours drew his out, letting load after load spill out into your cunt. He let out loud growls and hisses as his balls emptied out, his powerful orgasm making him a bit unsteady, he had to hold onto your hips for balance. Or maybe that was just his age…

Once his balls were completely empty and spent, signaling the effects of the sex pollen had finally worn out, he crashed down next to you. You peeked out from the pillow your face was buried in, eyes asking for permission.

“You can relax now, baby,” he chuckled, pushing a stray hair out of your face. His hair clung to his sweaty forehead, wet strands dripping as a result of his exertion. You let your hips drop, finally accommodating your screaming muscles. He pulled you into his side as soon as you did, skin pressed against one another, tangled in the sheets. Just like the last time.

Except this time, it was different.

“You meant it right?” Your small voice broke the serene silence. Yoongi looked down into your big eyes. His beautiful princess. How could he say no? How could he, in good conscious, continue to break both your hearts. He didn’t think he had it in him to resist you again. He was tired of tearing his heart apart and sewing it back together. Putting you both through this excruciating ordeal, just because of a tiny thing like social norms. In this moment, right now, as his eyes trailed your face, he made a silent vow to never deny you again, as long as he lived.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Of course, baby. I can’t live without you.”

Your eyes shut blissfully at his words. You cuddled deeper into his side, shoulders relaxing at the weight of the stress being lifted. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or what kind of riot your union would cause. All you knew was this moment, right here, as you drifted off to a peaceful rest. You, and the man you loved. And the sickly amount of his cum that was leaking from your pussy.

“You what?!”

You looped your arm around Yoongi’s indignantly, the stoic duke not daring to move a muscle. “We’re asking for your blessing to get married.”

If you thought the king was going to be shocked, you completely underestimated him. He was furious.

He rose up from his throne, marching towards the two of you with an accusatory finger. “Min Yoongi, what have you done to my naive daughter?!”

“Daddy!” You pushed your father’s hand away before it touched Yoongi, stepping in between the two. “He didn’t do anything! And I’m not naive.” You protested.

The king took a deep breath. As his youngest daughter, you were used to being in his favor. Doted on and spoiled to no end. Anything you’d ever wanted, your father would get you. Any scandal you caused, he’d take your side. This, however. Was a completely different beast on its own. “But sweetie, he—”

“He’s the one I want.” You folded your arms, pouting. “And I won’t settle for anything else, daddy.”

The king looked at you both helplessly. The whole realm under his fingertips, and yet, here he was, at the mercy of his daughter’s command. He had at least one of those things in common with Yoongi.

The king shook his head as he paced the room. Pausing once, he addressed you again. “You’re sure, sweetie? You’re sure you want to marry Duke Min?”

You nodded vivaciously, tightening your grip on your soon-to-be fiance. “I love him, daddy.”

The king shook his head again. If he could count the times he’d heard those words…

He threw his hands up in defeat. With one last shake of his head, and a resigned sigh, he announced, “Then you two have my blessing.”

You squealed and jumped into Yoongi’s arms, throwing your arms around him. He looked at you with a relieved expression as his arms circled your waist. He turned to address your father, tearing himself away. “Thank you, your highness.” He said with a bow.

“I have to go tell my friends,” you chatted excitedly. With a kiss on Yoongi’s cheek, and a ‘thank you, daddy!’ you went skipping along to spread the news. Almost as if you’d just gotten a new dress.

“You know, Min,” the king started, now left alone with the rigid duke. “When I said you needed to get married, I didn’t mean to my daughter.”

“I know, your highness.”

Past the tough exterior, there was a glint of lighted-heartedness in the king’s eye as he regarded his old friend. “Take good care of her.”

“You have my word.”

And Yoongi was nothing if not a man of his word, as you, and the servants that were unfortunate enough to walk past your room, would find out later that night.

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Copyright © 2021, taesinferno | tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc.

PALLADIUM - MYG

title credit: palladium- greyson chance

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut

synopsis:

min yoongi is urgent.  in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent.  the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.  

wordcount: 3.2K

note from holly: this was a prompt from a winner of one of my kofi quizzes! was supposed to be a drabble but now we are looking at a lil three parter. no smut in this part, just setting up our dynamics &lt;3 yoongi is a boy dad! idc! argue with the wall!!!!

PART TWO // PART THREE

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent," Yoongi pleads across the bakery counter. Nails bitten down to the bed, he's got bags underneath his eyes. Hasn't been sleeping well these days. Hasn't really been sleeping at all.

"I told you last time—"

"I know, I know," he sighs, pushing off of the countertop and pacing a few steps away, raking a stressed palm through his long, dark hair. Dishevelled, he hasn't had it cut in a while. You'll never tell him, but you think it looks better this way. "Look, it's the last time. I promise. I just really fucked it this time."

With a raised brow, you fold your arms over your chest. The apron beneath you bunches a little awkwardly, but you've never cared much for composure around Yoongi. Have simply known him too long and seen him through too many clumsy stages of life to be bothered. 

Tipping your head back, you exhale a sharp breath from the very depths of your lungs. 

"You are so lucky Jaehyun is an angel baby," you eventually say, shaking your head as you reluctantly agree. "What time do you need me?"

"Deadline is at midnight," Yoongi says, "So whenever you can get to mine, really. Mum has him till seven, but then she's got Bitch'n'Stitch—"

"Hey," you scold. "My mum goes to that knitting group, too."

"I'm not calling her a bitch—but I've heard their conversations," Yoongi reminds you. He swears they don't actually do any knitting (as if they haven't handmade half of Jaehyun's closet). Thinks they spend the entire time gossiping. And while yes, they do do a lot of gossiping, they can multitask. Unlike him, apparently. "But fine. She has her knitting group at seven."

Yoongi will never simply call it a knitting group, if he can help it. 

Bitch'n'Stitch is his go-to, but he's also partial to Stitching Hour. 

Last week, you'd just gone on a rant about how it's inappropriate to insinuate that all women of a certain age from your small town are witches—"Women used to get burned at the stake, Yoongi. Burned!"—so he knows better than to say it out loud today, even if it makes him laugh whenever he thinks about them knitting on broomsticks.

"I'll probably be outta here at just gone six," you tell him. 

It's the late shift, so you're responsible for closing and cleaning up, but after two years of part-time work alongside your studies, you're a dab hand. Can action off every item on the to-do list in record time, and to a standard even your boss can't achieve. 

You're wasted on a small town like this, but someone's gotta do it. 

"That's fine," Yoongi nods. "I just need to straighten this essay out and get my citations done. You can go as soon as I'm finished—and hey, you can order takeout. I'll pay."

Knowing Yoongi, he's probably surviving on instant noodles, and spending all of his money on Red Bull and Jaehyun's meticulously planned diet. 

Jaehyun's been off formula for about two months, now, and Yoongi is terrified of feeding him the wrong thing. By the looks of his slightly skinnier-than-usual frame, he's the one in need of a good meal.

And so, as you're doing your final tasks of the day, you don't bin the breads that need to be chucked. Instead, you bag them up. All of them. The pastries, too. Will just have to hope Yoongi has freezer space.

By the time you make it home, you've only got ten minutes to spare for a quick shower before you need to rush to Yoongi's. You'll be a little after seven, but it's fine. You've resigned yourself to staying at Yoongi's until midnight, now. 

It's how it usually goes. 

He'll work up until his deadline, rewriting and revising paragraphs that are perfectly fine and need no alterations. His own worst critic, you know that he really doesn't need to stress himself out like this.

Still, he does. You think he'll always be this way—at least, he was in high school, and he remains to be this way, even in university. Too much of a habit has been formed. It's ingrained in the ridges of his brain. Pink and permanent—just like the pout on his lips as he opens his apartment door for you later that evening.

Forearm tucked under Jaehyun's pudgy thighs, Yoongi cradles his son into his side, as a look of relief relaxes onto his face. It's a stark reminder of why Yoongi stresses himself out so much. 

You can afford to make mistakes. The only person you have to answer to is yourself.

Yoongi doesn't have that luxury anymore. Hasn't done for a while, now. Won't ever get it again—or at least, not for another seventeen years.

"Hey," he whispers, then casts his eyes down to Jaehyun's sleepy head. Nestling into Yoongi's shoulder, Jaehyun's dark hair now has a little length to it. Much like his own, Yoongi is refusing to cut it. Another thing he's scared of getting wrong. 

The subtle nod Yoongi gestures towards Jaehyun is a request for you to be quiet. 

You're familiar with his paternal habits by now; the behaviours he exhibits only when he's wearing his invisible 'Dad' hat.

He tucks back against the door, letting you walk on through and into his apartment.

Shoes off by the door, Yoongi locks up as you shake off your jacket, and hook it on the empty peg in the middle of the rack.

Small and a little dark, Yoongi hates his home. Is strapped for cash, so turned the open plan kitchen and sitting room into a studio-type set-up. Has his bed where a sofa should be, and manages to cram everything somewhere. His desk, his small keyboard, his clothing rail that he really needs to reorganise. A bunch of his things are in storage. 

Jaehyun's room is what once was Yoongi's. It's got the most natural light, thanks to the window placement, not that it matters at this time of night. The curtains are drawn, playmat full of yellows and oranges scattered across the floor. Beside it, is Yoongi's laptop. The screensaver is running, and it's pretty obvious he'd been playing with the little toy octopus sprawled across the keyboard instead, when you had arrived.

"Bit late for nap time?" You question quietly as you pop your phone on the charging pad Yoongi keeps on the dresser.

Nodding, Yoongi gently rests his son down in his crib. These past couple of days, everything has been a little out of sync. He feels guilty—like he's failing—but the pressures he's been putting on himself are just getting far too great. He's doing the best he can, but it always feels like it's not enough.

But Jaehyun is loved, and sheltered, and provided for. Yoongi is doing all he can. He just still isn't sure he knows how to be a dad.

Which is silly, because as you watch him stroke across the dark hair that sits flat to Jaehyun's scalp, quietly monitoring his condition, you think that Yoongi was made for this. Is far more paternal than you are maternal.

Truth be told, you don't like kids all that much.

Your idea of a fun evening doesn't typically involve hanging out with an infant, and yet you'll do it for Yoongi. Of course, you will. Have known him for too long and have been through too much with him to not help him.

Plus, you really do adore Jaehyun. Sweet as can be when he sleeps, he really does look just like Yoongi at that age—or so you gather from the baby pictures you've seen a dozen times over at his parents' place. It's easier to count which features they don't share. Saves ever needing to do a paternity test, not that Yoongi would do one anyway.

Jaehyun is his kid. A little bit of DNA wouldn't change this fact, not in his eyes.

It worries you. Not because you think Yoongi isn't his father—again, they're too alike to not be related—but in case his mother decides she wants to play an active role in Jaehyun's life. You fear that the 1% of doubt could come true and tear any legal right away from Yoongi. You're not really sure how the courts would work it all out, but you doubt they'd side with him. 

Yoongi was never meant to be a father. Not now, at least. The outcome of a one-night-stand, Jaehyun's biological mother didn't realise she was pregnant until it was too late. Had no real choice in the matter. Was also nearing the end of her tenure in law school. A kid was not—and remains to not be—a part of her plan. 

You know the documents were signed. Legal rights, shit like that. Know that she must have an understanding of the law far greater than Yoongi. Just hope she hasn't done anything that will fuck him over in the future.

Still, it's not a topic of conversation Yoongi likes indulging in, and so you don't push, no matter how much you'd like to know the details. 

"Let him sleep," Yoongi eventually sighs, before sinking down to lie on the rug. "Better he rests while I'm working—and plus, he slept through till five-thirty this morning."

"Till sunrise?" You chirp, a little surprised but conscious of keeping your voice down. 

Yoongi nods, face rubbing against the carpet. "He's basically a teenager."

Rolling your eyes, you reach down for his wrist to drag him to his feet. He's got an essay to finish. 

"Shut up," you smile. "You've barely stopped being a teenager."

Sometimes, it makes you a little sad to think that Yoongi is missing out on his early twenties—but then you glance across to Jaehyun and know that he's not missing anything. Just experiencing different things. That's all. 

"Don't remind me," he grunts, lamely getting to his feet, letting you pull him down the hallway as you swipe the baby monitor that lives next to the charging pad. You'll come back for your phone later. 

"C'mon, gotta finish your essay. Can't be a DILF unless you get this degree."

"Untrue."

"You'll just be a D without a good job," you tell him. "DILF's are always suited up."

"That's simply not true," he doubles down. "I've been told I'm a DILF at least, like, six times. Maybe more."

Definitely more. If he knew the way girls on campus spoke about him? God, his head would be so big he wouldn't be able to walk through doors.

But for now, you shoo him back through Jaehyun's bedroom door and to his sitting room-come-bedroom. The apartment isn't large. A baby monitor isn't needed, yet one is set up by Yoongi's bed, regardless. 

And so, as Yoongi knuckles down with his work, you flop onto his bed, and take prime babysitting position—though you're pretty sure you'd get fired if you ever got under anyone else's sheets on the job.

But it's late, and you've worked a long shift. You're only gonna rest your eyes for a moment. A second. A fraction of one, even. Just to hydrate them a little. Replenish your—

You're out like a light.

The curse of Min Yoongi's bedsheets. You really should have known better. It happens every damn time. You know this. He knows this. 

Yet when he eventually wakes you, neither of you mention it.

"Hey," Yoongi mumbles as he gently nudges your sleepy body. Flopping down beside you on top of the duvet, his exhausted eyes close instantaneously. 

"I'm going, I'm going," you grumble into his duvet, half asleep but knowing that you should go and check on Jaehyun. 

The baby monitor hasn't made any noise to wake you, and Yoongi's just been with him for the last twenty minutes, quietly watching on as he slept. Is pretty confident he's gonna sleep through again tonight. 

Reaching out to pat you down, Yoongi doesn't really acknowledge the way he accidentally taps your ass. Nor do you. Just sort of pretend that he didn't. Pretend that it didn't make your heart race a little.

"S'fine," he says, voice muffled by his need for rest. "He's still sleeping. Just checked on him."

"Sure?"

"Mhm," Yoongi nods, the sound of his hair smooth against his sheets. "You gonna crash here?"

"You all done?" You question right back. Shuffle, and his hand lazily moves with you. His wrist now rests on your hip, and you both pretend like it's normal.

"All done," he confirms. "Was late, so I've lost ten percent, but whatever."

For someone who stresses himself out as much as Yoongi does over his grades, as soon as he's hit the submission button, he just ceases to care. Has a 'what'll be, will be' attitude towards it all. Part of you wishes he would adopt that mentality when he's actually writing his essays.

What you don't realise is that it manifests from the same fear. 

He panics and panics and panics before a deadline—and then is so worried about his grade that he just pretends like they don't exist.

Too sleepy to care at this moment in time, Yoongi's placement of his wrist on your hip becomes more intentional. Deliberate. 

It's not like you're a stranger to the weight of Yoongi's arms draped over your body. Not like it's the first time—it's just every time it does happen, you swear it'll be the last.

It never is.

And it's not like it's anything illicit. Not anything you shouldn't be doing. Nothing that takes you beyond the realms of friendship—but it does threaten the integrity of your oldest connection to another human outside of familial ties. 

So every time Yoongi gets a little too close, or you find yourself lingering a little long on his words, you tell yourself to stop. That this is just a symptom of the dry spell you've been going through.

"Are you staying here tonight?" He asks.

Again, it wouldn't be the first time. Have been having sleepovers with him since you were kids. Ghost stories, midnight feasts. Sneaking out to the park to find UFOs and stopping by the corner shop for snacks. 

Once high school hit, it was deemed unwise by your parents. Open door policy. 

You'd been furious. Outraged that your privacy was being taken from you, and being told it was for your own good.

And so sneaking out the park became sneaking in windows; films watched with headphones on, dinner eaten in your bedroom under the guise of a melodramatic teenage strop, but actually shared with the boy from two doors down who knew better than to deceive your parents.

All innocent. Nothing that required a closed door. Those escapades were saved for—or wasted on—other people. Either, or. Neither you nor Yoongi gave it much thought. Why would you?

Friends, is what you were. What you are. What you always have been.

Which begs the question: why the fuck is Yoongi looking at you like that?

But then the wrist of Yoongi's resting on your hip becomes his hand. The grip becomes intentional. The stillness of your body comes not from tiredness, but from trepidation. 

"Do you want me to?" 

"It's late," he husks, thumb stroking against your hip as if that's what friends do. "You're off tomorrow, right? Don't need to go home?"

"Right."

"Well, then stay," he shrugs, loosening his grip to roll onto his back. The ceiling is far less interesting than you are, but he has to stop looking at your lips and wondering if they taste like the strawberry lip balm you'd tossed on the side cabinet earlier. "Makes sense."

"Stay?" You question as if he still needs to clearly outline that, yes, he'd like you to stay. "And do what?"

"Sleep," he dryly replies, because it's the obvious answer. Because it's what you should do. You're tired. He's tired. Jaehyun is asleep in the next room over.

"Sleep," you nod. "Sounds good."

Domestication becomes you in times like these. A toothbrush sits in an old glass on the top shelf of Yoongi's mirrored bathroom cabinet. The rest of the shelves are pretty much empty, but he always puts it up there. Says it annoys him anywhere else.

"Surely it's more annoying having to get it down for me every time I crash here?" You banter with him as you lean against the back wall of his bathroom, waiting for him to retrieve it. 

Plucking it from the glass, Yoongi is swift with his movements, and the way he wets the brush, puts a pearl of toothpaste on the bristles, then hands it back over to you.

"Doesn't bother me," he shrugs, turning back around to shut the cabinet. When he does, he's greeted with your eyes in the mirror, and a feeling in his stomach that should bother him. 

See, the D in Yoongi's DILF actually stands for dependable (although occasionally dickhead also fits). He likes being asked to do things. Likes being helpful. Useful. Knows that he depends on you far more than you do him, and so he does this to settle the score. 

You help him pass his exams, and he helps you keep good dental hygiene habits. A win-win situation. 

Leaving you to finish washing up, Yoongi does the final checks of his apartment. Bolts the door. Turns out the lights. Makes sure Jaehyun's day bag is packed for tomorrow with his Grandma. Adds the day's clothes to the laundry pile. Stands in the doorframe of Jaehyun's room to just simply watch his son exist for a little while longer. 

He loses track of time doing this. It's a nightly routine, so you think he'd get used to it, but he never does. Still can't fully comprehend that a living, breathing creature relies on him for basic survival. 

Sure, he hides your toothbrush away, and puts things out of reach for you just to get you asking him for help, but this is different. He cares about nothing more than making sure Jaehyun is surrounded by abundance: love, shelter, food. Everything the world has to offer, Yoongi wants for his son—and that's why he's working so damn hard to make sure it happens.

There's a tenderness to how Yoongi strokes your back when you stand beside him. He's far gentler than he used to be. Benevolent with age. Isn't the same kid who used to chase you around his parent's yard with a worm in one hand, and a pile of mud in the other. 

"C'mon," you whisper, walking away because you know you need to break the contact. "Let's rest."

Yoongi nods. Is slow as he tears his gaze from his son, but just as stoic as he watches you saunter down the hallway and into your bedroom for the night. His bedroom.

You slip out of sight, just in time for Yoongi to exhale the air in his lungs. His sigh is full of unspoken words. Uncertain terms—and as he follows you down, he wonders how many more secrets will bloat his lungs throughout the night.

For You | yoongi

➭ summary: Yoongi is the son of a big business man and is now the CEO of the million dollar company so naturally he grew up distant and stern. But suddenly, his attitude changes when he meets you, a local kind hearted stripper that catches his curiosity. He finds himself lost in your smile and warm spirit, despite him being the opposite. But he’s willing to let down his walls you for..

➭genre: oneshot, strangers to lovers, stripper reader, slowburn-ish, fluff

➭warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence & blood, tsundere-ish tbh, didnt check the spelling, yoongi is stalker-ish but that’s ok, daddy issues

➭note: don’t ask me why this takes place in winter💀 senior year of high school + writers block + I’m lazy. i like half of this and i hate half of this. omg yoongi going to the military I’m gonna cry & throw a fit

Yoongi put his cold hands in his pockets, small snowflakes falling from the sky as he stepped out of the dirty and vulgar parking lot. He ignored all of the horny thugs who were making out with hookers outside as he headed to the dimly lit building.

SEASAW

The word was lit on top of the building and for some unknown reason, Yoongi had been drawn to it for weeks. He knew there were better clubs than this one, and he’d most likely be seen and on some headline by the time he stepped in the door but tonight, he didn’t care.

His mind went back to the fight he had with his dad on the phone as he stepped through the door, some terribly made whiskey in mind.

A breeze washed over him as the door closed with a loud thud, it was at least a little warmer than the cold air outside. Yoongi glanced around taking in the symphony of multicolored lights illuminated the air, casting a vibrant palette across the dance floor. The room throbbed with an infectious energy, resonating with the beat of the music that reverberated through every corner.

Soon, his eyes found the bar, a couple of nicely dressed men sat at the stools. Without another thought, Yoongi strutted to a seat, leaving an empty space to separate himself and another man.

“Whiskey.” He said in a deep raspy voice despite how the woman working was already in the middle of making another drink.

“Yoongi!” A older sounding man suddenly called out of him, making his head turn to the man on the stool next to him. He recognized the man as one of his dad’s friend.

Perfect. He scoffed to himself, hoping his drink would came faster.

“Now what are you doing in a bar like this?” The man asked with a scratchy laugh, hitting his shoulder.

Yoongi tried to let out a small chuckle that ends up sounding dry. “Same as you.” He spoke, turning back to the bar when he hears the bartender loudly slam his drink on the counter.

He goes to take a large swig as the old man continues to chat and laugh with him, his reeking odor hitting his face as he turns to look back at him.

Behind the old man, Yoongi notices the dance floor. Bodies moved in sync with the rhythm, twisting and gyrating, surrendering themselves to the intoxicating melodies. But one soul figure seemed to catch everyone’s attention on stage.

Slowly, he started to tune out the annoying old man the more closely he watched. But unlike the other men in the bar, he watched with curiosity rather than lust. Your movements were elegant and graceful, your tight crop top and glittery skirt making every sway of your body seen.

Your hands played in your hair and caressed your body as your body moved, painting a mysterious story about you with help of the music. Your eyes closed and a bright warm smile on your face as if no one else was there.

Despite dancing in a shabby club probably to make ends meet, you were dancing as if this was your long time dream.

“Her?” The old man’s itchy voice suddenly came back to him, pointing to you on the stage. “That’s Y/N. She’s kinda a favorite here.” He said and this made Yoongi even more intrigued.

“Has she worked here long?” Yoongi asked glancing back at the old man as he nodded. “Almost a full year.” He said and everyone clapped and whistled as you suddenly came down from the stage with a warm smile.

Yoongi just hummed before quickly finishing his drink before paying the bartender and leaving, deciding to dismiss the thought of talking to you.

But at weird hours of the day Yoongi would think about you, so every time he happened to pass the club he went in and watched you perform.

This happened for weeks. He never said a word to you, he never went further than the bar. Until one day when you had stepped off the stage, looking cheerful as usual, only to be met with two men meeting you half way.

Yoongi watched, his blood starting to boil as the man surrounded you, complimenting you and touching your hair. It didn’t take them long before they got more physical, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking away as they started to trail closer to you so that their body touched yours.

Yoongi can see the panic and fear settle in your face before his vision was blocked by the taller men.

Without thinking, Yoongi practically sprung up from the stool, furious as he made his way over to where the men had circled you.

“Move.” He said, his voice deep and hoarse as the two men slowly turned around to face Yoongi.

“Mind your business, hot shot.” One man spoke, obviously trying to spook Yoongi which only wanted to make him laugh.

“I’m not going to waste my breath telling you again.” Yoongi said simply, remaining calm as he watched the two turn irritated.

“You wanna get jumped punk?” The man said, raising his voice as he stepped closer to Yoongi.

Instantly and without warning, Yoongi’s right arm swung in the air. His already clenched knuckles that were in his coat pocket suddenly flew out and connected to the guys face, all of his pent up angry unleashing.

Before anyone can react, he punched him a second time, this one making him stumble to the ground with a yell of pain.

The other man quickly backed away with his hands in the air, “I don’t even know that guy.” The man claimed before quickly rushing off.

Yoongi looked up from the ground where the other man was laid, his nose now bleeding heavily as Yoongi stepped over the body, ignoring his groans when he did so.

“You alright?” Yoongi spoke, his expression softening as he meets your eyes. His eyes glazed around your face as he inspected you, trying not to get lost in your gorgeous and unique features as he looked for any sign that they had touched you.

“I’m fine.” You muttered back, out of breath from shock as you looked at the man on the group and then up at him with wide eyes.

“Thank you.” You say with a polite bow, taking a moment to collect yourself before a small smile appears on your face.

“What?” Yoongi asked, curious on why you were suddenly smiling and chuckling despite everything.

“Well, I was wondering when you were going to come talk to me.” You say with a teasing smile only making Yoongi more confused. As if reading his expression you chuckle. “You think I haven’t noticed you always coming in here and watching me?”

Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek, shrugging lightly as he looked away. “I don’t care if you noticed or not.” He spoke in a defensive tone, harsher than intended. He saw the smile on your face drop slightly in disappointment and he bit the inside of his cheek harder out of frustration. He didn’t want to be responsible for a frown on your face when you always wore a smile.

Wordlessly, Yoongi took out his wallet, taking out three hundred dollar bills and holding his hand out for her to take.

Your eyes widen in shock, chuckling nervously as you shake your head, denying it. “Why..?” You start to question, getting a little suspicious.

“For the inconvenience, and all the dances I’ve watched without tipping.” Yoongi states with a serious expression, trying to cover up any other intentions he might of had.

“You just have that much on you at all times? That’s risky.” You respond, still hesitant to take the money. Yoongi lets a smile crack at the irony, “I’ve been watching you for weeks and that’s what your worried about?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you want a favor in return or something?” You ask him, still skeptical as Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I guess we’ll never know if you don’t take the money.”

With a sigh, he watches as you slowly take the money out of his hands and put it in your pocket. “Thank you.” You mumble as he turns around and heads for the door. “Wait!” You call for him in confusion, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him as he turns around slightly.

“What’s the favor?” You ask in confusion but Yoongi just looks at you before continuing to walk out without a word.

It doesn’t take Yoongi long to wonder back into the club days after that. Despite the weird exchange it only made him want to get to know you more. But something in him grew colder when he walked in the club only to see you not onstage. Usually around this time you had already started and had a small crowd of men watching you.

“Whiskey.” He ordered in a lower tone as he sat down, tapping impatiently on the counter as he waited. “This was stupid.” He mumbled to himself, ashamed of how he had gotten caught up with this stripper and was just about ready to leave it all behind.

“Min Yoongi! You’re back!” He heard your familiar voice right next to him, causing his head to turn to the side in confusion.

“What are you doing here?” He asked his finger slowly stopping as he looked at you, sat next him in the bar.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I know your name?” You reply instead, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “I assumed you already knew.” Yoongi spoke calmly, lightly shrugging even.

“Cocky much?” You reply, jokingly rolling your eyes with a smile. “How did you find out, if not the internet?” Yoongi asked curiously, as the bartender slams his whiskey on the counter.

“Well when the son and CEO of a million dollar company starts to take notice to the best employee in the club, word gets around.” You reply with a slight grin and Yoongi can’t help but chuckle a little.

“Cocky much?” He echos your words as he sips on his whiskey and this only widens your grin further. Yoongi stares into your smile, feeling a weight being lifted off his shoulders when he realizes it’s been a while since he actually genuinely smiled for once.

When he finishes his drink he takes out his wallet and pays for the bad alcohol before taking out another three hundred and handing it to you, not waiting for you to take it this time.

“This has to be your way of flirting with me.” You mumble in disbelief as you stare at the bills before reluctantly shoving it in your skirt.

Yoongi scoffed, shaking his head in disagreement. “I don’t have time to flirt.” He mumbled firmly while looking at his empty glass.

“You have time to come here.” You differed causing him to bite the inside of his cheek, standing up and dusting himself off. “Wait that didn’t mean leave!” You state quickly getting up with him and Yoongi can’t help but glance at the sudden look of displeasure and sadness on your face as your hand brushes against his as you attempt to stop him.

“I..actually like having you here. You make me feel safe.” You mumble sheepishly as Yoongi stood there, completely frozen as he took in your words. How had he, of all people, made you feel safe? In a run down place like this?

“Then your standers are low.” He said in a low voice, a hint of playfulness in his tone as you look back up at him, snickering at his comment.

“You say that, but under that frown and sharp eyes is a warm hearted gentleman.” You speak causing him to look away from you, not wanting to take your words seriously. He didn’t want to show any signs of vulnerability, he’d never be ready for anything heavy.

“You don’t believe me?” You challenged him, seeing his silence and he heard the heard an underlying tone in your voice when you asked. “If I asked you to walk me to my car, you’d hundred percent do it.”

Yoongi scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, but quickly knew not to didn’t deny it. “See! You would.” You grinned at his sour expression, knowing you were right.

“Whatever, do you want to be walked to your car or not?” He asked trying to dismiss the fact all together. He had never seen himself in a situation like this, feeling embarrassed and maybe bubbly.

You laughed at the question but nodded, grabbing your nearby coat that was filled with stains as you attempted to squeeze your shoulders in the coat.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, walking in front of you as he leaded the two of you out of the door and to your car. Yoongi sighed as he looked at the state of it, effortlessly taking out his wallet and starting to count some bills.

“If you’re going to give me more money don’t bother.” You quickly said as the two of you made it to your car, stepping in front to him and holding onto his hand so he would stop rummaging through his wallet.

“I don’t need it, I’m fine!” You tried to convince him and he simply raised an eyebrow at you, before going back to counting, taking out a couple hundreds as he did so.

“Then consider it flirting.” He mumbled in a flat tone, taking out five hundreds and getting ready to hand it to you.

As he looked back up from his wallet he felt something soft touch the corner of his lips, eyes widening in shock when he realizes how close you were to him and before he could stop it, you had planted a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips.

Your lips lingered on his skin for a couple seconds before finally pulling away from him, taking a step back.

“Come back tomorrow, okay?” You say with a warm smile, practically glowing in front of him as you spoke to him in a soft low tone.

Silently, Yoongi watched you chuckle at his reaction before getting into your car and slowly driving off, his heart thumping as he watched your car drive off onto the road.

He slowly started to move again when your car was far away enough that it was out of view, as if snapping him out of a trance.

Yoongi could feel himself getting lighter, warmer. He could feel his muscles relax as he took his hands out of his coat pocket.

yoongi fic recs part ii

(biggest love and support to the writers!!)

1. mad about you by @yoongiphoria

established relationship, smut, 0.7k words

2. drown by @hamsterclaw

established relationship, smut, (part of 'vows' series but can be read as a standalone drabble imo)

3. the king isn't dead by @another-army-spot

historical!au, king!yoongi, smut, fluff/romance, 19.7k words

4. muse by @another-army-spot

established relationship, producer!yoongi x dancer!reader, fluff, smut, 4k words

5. green-eyed monster by @yoonpobs

established relationship, angst, smut, fluff ish, (part of 'be in love' series but can be read as a standalone imo), 1.6k words

6. backburner christmas drabble by @yoonpobs

established relationship, fluff, smut, (part of 'backburner' series but can be read as a standalone drabble imo), 6.2k words

7. love language by @yoonpobs

established relationship, fluff, 5k words

8. busy - a night at home by @jungk0oksthighs

established relationship, smut, 3.3k words

9. soon by @ppersonna

established relationship (married!au), fluff, smut, 3.1k words

10. i wanna hold your hand by @minisugakoobies

friendstolovers!au, fluff, 1.4k words

OMG THANK YOU FOR THIS SWEEY SWEET SURPRISE! IT MADE MY DAY.

I missed angel mask so much TT this drabble brought me back to that universe.

Thank you for fools paradise drabble 🥰. I am not sure if you are taking requests? It’s 100% up to you if you want to bcs it’s your blog, but would it be possible to get an angel mask drabble, maybe on their wedding day?

Babe, you read my mind! I honestly miss writing for Angel Mask even tho I have struggled with writers block for what has seemed like two years! 😭😭😔

Here you go. I hope you enjoy :) It’s waAy past my bedtime so please ignore words that don’t make sense! 😭

till death do us…

Pairing: Angel Mask Yoongi x F! Reader

Warning(s): At the end (present day), mentions of kidnapping, mob business/situation, insinuated sexc time (but NO SMUT I RPOMISE),

It was always that little cold cold heart of his that beat incredibly fast, only for you.

His hands were clammy and he swore that if he looked in the mirror, he'd see droplets of perspiration dotted on the crown of his head.

The day he never thought would happen was at the tip of his hands, filled with love and pride as he watched you walk his way, a bouquet held tight in your hands, in your lower belly as you smiled so brightly, illuminating the room with what only he could describe as pure happiness.

Jungkook was at your side, leading you to the altar and to Yoongis’ awaiting hand. He’d seen you cry weeks before, wrapping you in his arms at the fact that your father was not present - or alive to walk you down the aisle. But when Yoongi offered to ask Jungkook, you nodded, and Jungkook didn’t hesitate to do as was asked of him.

And truly, Yoongi thanked him, hugging him with might as he had made you so happy to oblige. There was a part of him that felt… ashamed for the undisclosed transgression that he had done years before. Your tears always debilitated him, but like always, the other part of him - the immoral man that stood before you, simply was apathetic, selfishly keeping you to his side.

He never thought he’d live long enough to fall and love and marry the love of his life, but the day was here, his whole world walking towards him.

And it was just as you wished. A small get together with trusted business partners, and close family members.

Yoongi looked at you and only you, deciding to place his hate for his parents at the back of his mind because they didn't matter. They never have. He had plans of course, that even though Jungkook was at your side, he stayed with the thought of asking his own father to accompany you down the isle.

But his parents didn’t agree and didn’t show.

All for marrying you.

They too had plans; for Yoongi to marry into a family that wasn’t much different from theirs, criminals with blood money, running and never safe. Yoongi declined. The second he saw you, you were marked as his.

“Hello, Mrs. Min.” Yoongi whispered teasingly, your hand pressing tightly against his. He could see you were nervous from that little quirk that came from your furrowed brow, but yet you smiled, huffing a small hi his way.

“You may kiss the bride.”

And hell, like he’d have to be told twice. With vigorous want, he cupped your cheeks in his pale hands, locking your lips together that placed the last nail on the coffin. You were now his wife in the underground hellhole he resided - but no, he’d taken his own word that he’d never drag you down and involve you in anything that had to do with the risks of his position.

In a few years, he’ll retire and hand the reigns to his trusted partner, the doe eyed innocent looking man, who had absolutely nothing of innocence inside. Jungkook would be a good leader, after all, Yoongi raised him and taught the man everything he knew.

And hopefully, after he retired, you’d have a family of your own - a child or two, living life at peace until you were frail and grey.

“I’m so happy.” You voiced, your head on his chest as you both swayed to the music, your first dance as husband and wife.

Though you didn’t smile, he could see it in your eyes, gleaming with contentment. Yoongi smiled. This was all he ever wanted. “I love you.” He said, pecking your cheek, and your lips, causing you to chuckle.

“I love you too. So much, you have no idea.”

He did.

He loved you to an extent that had no measure and he knew that by your side, it was a euphoria that he couldn’t explain or comprehend.

“What do you say… that we kick everyone out, and we get started on our honeymoon, hm?” Your laugh was otherworldly, your head thrown back at the sight of your husband’s eyebrows playfully jumping up and down.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Min.”

“No, honey. It’s whatever you say.”

PRESENT DAY:

Yoongi smiled with sadness at the picture on his desk, gently bouncing Myunghee on his lap as she scuffled, wanting to cry.

The photo depicted the both of you, your white dress flowing on your body as he carried you on his back, your legs wrapped around his waist with a humorous expression on your face.

He no longer saw that light - that innocence and happiness in your eyes.

He had washed it all away.

“Shhh, sweetheart.” With a peck he wrapped a hand on her raven hair, maneuvering her tiny body in his chest to make her comfortable.

"Mommy's fine. I promise. She just needs more time to adjust. I promise, as soon as she’s out of that room, we’ll be a happy family. Just like how we talked about. How do you feel about being a big sister, hm? I love you so so so much.”

What did you think? He had never taken words too light. When you voiced your never ending love for him in your vows, he tucked your actions into his cold, beating heart and with stubbornness, he held tight with a vice grip.

Till death do us both part.

And he’d be sure that was a promise you were going to keep.

Favorites Fic Recs 4

was supposed to post this a long time ago but tumblr didn't save...this got a little long, apologies (or you're welcome?)

Kim Seokjin

Replacement (@akinnie75)

The truth untold (@vminity21)

The flower bridge (@yoongsisbae)

Fall for me (@ebonyinktea)

Cinnamon bliss (@yoonia)

Glazed and dazed (@floralseokjin)

Voix (@yoonia)

With you (@yoonpobs)

I'm all yours (@sailoryooons)

Smile (@shuadotcom)

Scar kisses (@girl8890)

No pyjamas (@jinkookspencil)

Min Yoongi

No more (@gyukult)

Chocolate opal (@babesindestroyland)

Changing one's tune (@1uckygold)

Before you go (@sweetcarrotsandroses97)

Perfect for me (@7dipity)

Ps, is it okay if I start calling you dad (@btsficsandsuch)

The third & sixth (@jimlingss)

Insecurities (@taetae-mic)

Performance evaluation (@kookscrescent)

Tricks of the trade (@stutterfly)

I'll protect you (@glassbangtan)

My miss right (@lavenjoon)

Step up (or step out) (@hollyhomburg)

Never, never fall (@joheunsaram)

The seven year itch (@jimlingss)

The sweetest thing (@illneverrecover)

Ink petals (@yminie)

Quiet and qualms (@sugafreeagustd)

Illicit favors (@yoongiofmine)

Jung Hoseok

Outro: love is not over (@kiirokero)

Heaven sent (@aquagustd)

Sunshower (@jimlingss)

Unconditionally (@rmsrkive)

Kim Namjoon

The stand in (@yoonia)

The making of: Love (@inkjam-moon)

Easy, like sunday morning (@angelguk)

Inside my mind (@jimlingss)

Park Jimin

Into the wilderness (@gukyi)

Darling you're beautiful (@choking-on-tae)

Puppy steps (@simp-4-jm)

Strip (@yoonia)

A special gift (@peachy213jiminie)

Lovesick (@jimlingss)

My forever: Park Jimin (@bts-trash-blog)

The only way (@ethertae)

Exposure (@dreamyjoons)

Kim Taehyung

Charade (@ughcore)

Wabi sabi (@flurrys-creativity)

Like real people do (@bangtanloverboys)

Lost in you (@jjkeverlast)

Spice (@aquagustd)

A little while (@noteguk)

Mine to claim (@jimilter)

Colors (@lovelytaes-blog)

Insomnia (@hobiwonder)

Sweeter than peaches (@jiminisnotavirgin)

Jeon Jungkook

Love is gone (@jeonbunnie)

2002 (@tattookoo) -> pt. 2 to 1999

Drown in your body (@sparklingchim)

Last christmas (@whatifyoulivelikethat)

Bleeding for you (@mixtapejimin)

I can handle it (@beautifulfuckup99)

Blackjack (@kpopfanfictrash)

Fifth wish (@jiminrings)

The spins (@here2bbtstrash)

From home (@gyukult)

The habits of a broken heart (@softykooky)

Not tired (@gggukniverse)

Cool with you (@kooktrash)

Late (@elitekook)

ストロベリー (?) (@euaphoric)

Tender (@liveyun)

A friends help (@armpirate)

Nevertheless (@nochukoo97)

Dress you up (@plvmkoo)

Soju (@plvmkoo)

Jealousy ink (@kooktrash)

Starry night (@kithtaehyung)

When she loved me (@jungkookstatts) [only fanfic that has made me cry, tread carefully)

He is love (@btsrunmylife)

Rattled (@gukslut)

Love alive (@jamaisjoons)

1999 (@tattookoo)

Home (@bonny-kookoo)

Tteokkboki (@taetaesbaebaepsae)

Cat got your tongue (@jessikahathaway)

The boxer's girlfriend (@i-am-baechu)

Honest fuckboy (@hobiwonder)

Perfect love (@i-am-baechu)

Soft (@hamsterclaw)

Brown-eyed baby (@jeonstudios)

Wrong time (@spideyjimin)

Cherry (@peachypinkygloss)

Off-league (@hansolmates)

For me (@personasintro)

OT7

Bon voyage: Into the sea (@yoongsisbae)

Thank you to all of the wonderful writers, ily <3