Pianist Yoongi - Tumblr Posts

This was so good. I love how you described the emotions coming from the music.

pairing: yoongi x reader // word count: 15.8k // genre: smut

summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn’t involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there’s an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), cursing, minor consumption of alcohol, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names, slight exhibitionism, slight praise kink, light dom/sub undertones if you squint ig (reader is kind of subby)

– –

Throughout the years of your life, you’ve learned a few things. Some of them are pretty obvious (buying suspiciously cheap sushi from a petrol station is like playing Russian Roulette with food poisoning and diarrhoea), some of them are less so (just because something is ‘on sale’ doesn’t actually mean that it’s cheaper if they’d increased the overall price beforehand), but one thing that you’re only just starting to learn is that— for all that Jimin says otherwise— blind dates will always stand you up.

Keep reading

Honestly, this was such a cute drabble.

for the pairing ask meme...yoongi x y/n, #25 💚

25 -  things you said in front of other people

I wrote this with the oc and yoongi from strike a chord in mind but it can be read as a standalone! I know some people were wanting a follow up or something similar from that verse so here’s a small one before I make the time to write that bartender!jin story I played a bit loosey-goosey with the interpretation of the prompt but OH WELL. and here’s my forever shout out to @hobi-gif 

pairing: yoongi x reader / word count: 1.1k / genre: fluff, with hinted nsfw elements (but this is sfw) / warnings: none!

It’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” you say, and Yoongi lets out a quiet hum of agreement.

To people who don’t know him, Min Yoongi seems elusive and reclusive, cold and distant, unwilling to let people in. You’d thought the same, before, thought he was so far out of reach, too beautiful and talented for you to ever touch. But now you know better. You know of the endless warmth he keeps hidden, the depths of affection he holds for the people close to him, the people he cares about and loves. You feel it every time he looks at you or touches you, hear it every time he lays his fingers to those piano keys, each time he plays his music for you, songs he’s written for you.

“I want to buy it,” you continue, and he squeezes your hand with those lovely, talented fingers, the ones you’d fallen for so many months ago.

“You don’t need it,” he says, and you pout.

“But I want it,” you say, and before Yoongi can reply, your eyes widen. “Oh! I know! I’ll buy it for Holly!”

“You haven’t even met him,” Yoongi points out, though his words are edged with amusement, lips a tender curve as he watches you turn your attention back to the hand-crocheted dinosaur, already reaching for it.

“Listen, I don’t need to have met your dog to know that I love him and want to shower him with gifts.” You clutch the dinosaur toy tight with your free hand, unwilling to let go now that you’ve set your heart on it. “You can mail it back to Daegu for your parents to give to him. He’ll feel my love.”

Yoongi takes a moment to stare at you with his sharp, pretty eyes, and then just smiles. He’s already relented and he knows that you know that, as wrapped around your little finger as he is. “Okay,” he says. “Sure.”

He keeps hold of your hand as you walk to the till, gently but firmly tugging you back each time he sees you waver and long to reach for something else as well. You could fight against that tugging hand, and you know Yoongi would let you win, but you just settle down. You always do, easing back in the face of his judgement, letting him call the shots. (When you want to, anyway.)

At least, you do until you spot another dinosaur on a promotional display, the twin of the one in hands, bright red to its deep blue.

“Oh, oh, Yoongi, look!” You squeeze his hand to draw his attention to it. “Come on, we have to get that one too. Please?”

“Holly doesn’t need both, baby.”

“I’m starting to think I love him more than you do, Yoongi,” you say, a little petulant—even if you know Yoongi is right. “It’s like he’s my son and not yours.”

Before Yoongi can reply, respond to your admittedly playful ribbing, an older woman nearby smiles at you both, having overheard your conversation. “I think your son would appreciate both,” she says.

You latch onto this, even if the woman clearly thinks you’re talking about an actual child and not a dog. “See? Holly deserves both. He’s a good boy and a great son.”

“I think it’s very sweet that you care about him so much, even if he’s not yours,” the woman continues, looking at you, smile spread across her face. “How old is he?”

There’s a brief beat of silence as Yoongi stares at the two of you, and you worry that he’s about to correct this woman’s misunderstanding—that he’s going to tell her that Holly is, in fact, a dog—before he replies. “He’s four.”

The woman coos. “Oh, he’s still so young! Are dinosaurs his favourite?”

“His favourite toy is a ball, actually,” Yoongi replies, completely straight faced. “He loves it when we go to the park and play catch together.”

You swallow down your disbelieving laughter as the woman sighs with delight.

And so the conversation unfolds, and you watch as Yoongi wards off every question without letting onto the fact that Holly walks around on four legs and not two, slowly migrating across the store towards the till. He’s just telling the woman that Holly’s favourite food is peanut butter when you reach the front of the queue, and you tug at Yoongi’s hand to get his attention.

“We have to pay, baby,” you say gently.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you,” the woman apologises. “I just wanted to say that you’re very lucky to have someone who loves your son as much as you do.”

“I know,” Yoongi murmurs, surprisingly soft and sincere, and you have to tamp down the blush that threatens to spill onto your cheeks. “I’m very lucky.”

And when you leave the store, it’s with two dinosaurs secured in your bag; both are gift wrapped, of course (only the best for Min Holly). You can’t help but giggle as you recall the delivery of Yoongi’s words, how he’d been completely inscrutable, speaking about Holly like an actual son—but then Yoongi gives you a look, a touch of his dark eyes, and the laughter dies in your throat. You recognise that look. Anticipation trickles down your spine, liquid quicksilver that rolls under your skin, hot and cold all at once.

So when you step into Yoongi’s apartment, shedding your jacket and shoes, you’re expecting the hands that cup your face. You go still all at once, eyes fluttering shut at the cool touch of Yoongi’s fingers.

“Babygirl.”

You shiver despite yourself, shuddering at the pet name, the deep note in his voice. “Yes, Yoongi?”

“You lied to that poor ajumeoni,” he says, a quiet note of reproach in his voice. “That wasn’t very nice.”

You don’t point out that he was the one that carried the brunt of it, the one that let the lie ride, let her continue to live in her misconception. “I was just joking,” you say—and your voice is already weak, breathless, as you melt under Yoongi’s hands.

“I thought you were a good girl,” he continues, as if you hadn’t spoken at all. It’s a physical effort to swallow down the noise that bubbles in your throat, threatening to slip past your lips. “But I guess I was wrong.”

“I am,” you insist. “I am, I am a good girl.” Your heart rate is already picking up, pulse rising each second you stare back at him, return the gaze that’s laying you bare already, that knows how weak you are for him, always.

And Yoongi’s responding smile is edged with heat as his eyes gleam. “Why don’t you show me what a good girl you are then, hm?”

Midnight Musician | MYG

Min Yoongi Smut & Fluff One Shot

♡ Pairing: yoongi x reader established relationship au

♡ Genre: smut, fluff, idol!yoongi

♡ Word Count: 2.2k

♡ Contains: cute n fluffy moment that somehow turns into rough fucking on a grand piano, fingering (f rec.), creampie, slight hand kink, unprotected sex etc

♡ Summary: Waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of your boyfriend playing piano, you follow the noise and end up getting more from him than just a sideshow.

A/N: this was in the drafts for a hot minute but I liked it too much to abandon so here u go :]

Heavy asleep, mind turned off and tucked away in a dream, music begins to creep into your resting conscious.

Instinctively, you try to ignore it but still inevitably become more and more aware, soon opening your eyes to the dim room. Despite the lack of light, you immediately note that your boyfriend is not laying next to you. Traveling your vision to the digital clock on top of the nightstand, you softly hum in confusion.

Sitting up in bed, you’re once again greeted with a delicate noise sourced from the living room.

He’s at it again.

You fondly smile to yourself at this cute habit of Yoongi’s that you discovered, which is that he plays the piano when he can’t fall asleep. Perhaps to tire himself. A lullaby played by him and for him.

Eager to catch him in the act (and not miss out on a single note) you kick the sheets off and tiptoe your way through the tranquil apartment, over to the end of the hallway to which you lean your side onto the threshold.

Admiring your boyfriend, you cross your arms and can’t help but giggle when he gets a note wrong, his nose scrunching in frustration.

Upon your entertainment, his shy eyes dart to yours.

“What are you doing up?” He calmly asks while detaching his fingers from the keyboard, his hands lazily collapsing into his lap as he looks across the room at you, eyes helplessly noticing the way his shirt looks on you.

Walking up to join him on the small leather bench, his eyes don’t leave yours.

“Nothing… Just watching you miss those notes.”

Fitting yourself beside him, he nudges your upper arm.

“Aish, you can’t say that, had I known you were there I would’ve played way better!”

You smile once more at his whine, shaking your head before grabbing onto his wrist closest to you.

“Don’t let me stop you, you were doing good.”

He playfully rolls his eyes at your hypocritical statement but nonetheless places his fingertips back onto the glossy keys.

From the way his body is tensed up, you can tell he’s shy, and you want to tell him so badly how he shouldn’t be nervous about playing in front of you right now because, as bad as it sounds, your attention isn’t even on the noise… it’s on his hands.

Your eyes glance over every single vein that travels up his hand, sexily engraved into his slender fingers. His bitten-up thumb that he chews up when anxious. The jagged knuckles that rest atop. God, you love his hands.

“Aish…” He stops playing after missing another note, dramatically throwing his hands up in surrender. “I really need to work on tha—”

His words come to a halt as your lips capture his, and his body jolts only the slightest bit in startle before happily melting into your sudden touch.

Reluctant to end it, he forces himself to pull back, a fond lazy smile lighting up his face.

“What’s that for?”

You softly give him a few more pecks, unable to resist.

“I can’t just spontaneously kiss my boyfriend?”

He’s cherry red, and half of you has such a strong urge to pinch his dough-like cheeks because of how breathtakingly cute he looks right now, and the other half of you wants to fuck that blush right off his face.

“Pianos are like… sturdy, right?”

He furrows his brows in confusion, head tilting.

“I mean… I suppose? Mind me asking why?”

Mischievously biting your lip, you slowly stand up, fingertips toying with the fabric of his shirt.

“Do you think it’d be strong enough for me to sit on?”

You can see his already visible confusion become more prominent.

“But why would you want to sit— Oh.”

He darts his eyes away from yours, probably to hide the heat he feared was visible on his cheeks.

You and Yoongi were both naturally shy, so it took a while before you got completely comfortable with each other, and so with that being said, bold statements like that catch him completely off guard.

Not that he doesn’t like it, in fact, he loves it, he’s just shy.

“Yoongi~” you softly coo, fingertips walking up his shoulder. “I want you to fuck me on this piano.”

His eyes meet yours, hooded and dark.

His tongue hastily darts out to lick over his dry parted lips, his gaze flicking to the piano then back to you, then down your figure. Ironically, that’s the same time he felt something else rise up.

He doesn’t speak a word when he scoots the bench back and stands up, allowing you space to crawl up the piano, using the bench as a boost up.

You cautiously steer clear of the keys, not wanting to break anything or ruin the comfortable, desire-filled, silence with a sudden off-note.

Having maneuvered over to the opposite end of the piano, your back faces him and you casually strip his baggy shirt off of your body as you await his proximity.

The second the hook of your bra sprung open, your breasts slipping out and erecting in the open air, you hear footsteps gradually get closer until finally, the tops of his thighs are poking against your closed knees and his large hands are prying them apart, getting comfortable in between.

His gaze stays fixated on your breasts and how erect they are, and without much contemplation he allows those same hands- the ones that lead you to want to do this in the first place- to your breasts, squeezing ever so softly, almost like a massage. Each time he applied pressure his soft skin would graze your nipple, causing a series of very small, light moans to escape from you.

“Can’t believe we haven’t thought about this before…” You think aloud, breaking the comfortable silence with your soft mumble.

“Thought about fucking on a piano?”

His airy chuckle that followed his dumbfounded reiteration was still laced with slight nerves, the tinge of pink slowly slipping past his features the more the lust and desire take over.

“I suppose there’s a first for everything, right?”

Yoongi’s instantly brought back to the night he took your virginity, that beautiful, beautiful night. It was so pure. So incredibly intimate and just memorable. He remembers how gentle he was for you despite your commands to ‘go harder’, ‘go faster’. He remembers the way your brows creased upon feeling him for the first time. He remembers the satisfaction that came with satisfying you. You satisfying him.

The memories make the desire take over completely, both hands falling from your breasts, one landing on your outer thigh and the other going straight to where you need it.

“You never fail to amaze me.” his voice is a couple of octaves deeper than usual, the lust usually having that effect on him.

You recline back a bit on your palms, inviting him to press closer against you. He doesn’t fail to comply, chest flat against yours as he keeps an inch's worth of space between your core and his bulge to allow room for his hand.

“Yeah? Prove it.” Your hand finds home in his messy jet-black hair, blindly guiding the long strands out of his eyes as your head is too lolled back to see him clearly. “Prove how I amaze you by watching how fast I can cum for you.”

Your words were random and rushed, spoken from a desire-fueled place, but incredibly enticing to his ears. This only added to his point.

His fingertips brush against your panties, creeping them into its waistband before wiggling the pesky fabric off of you completely and letting them fall to the floor in front of his feet. You shiver as a gust of wind hits you right where you need it, his fingers accompanying the minor relief and transitioning it into something much more pleasurable.

“How are you always so fucking wet?”

His tone was one of appreciation and frustration, the idea of you being in said state for him all of the time makes him almost irritated at how great you are.

“It’s the effect you have on me.”

Sipping two digits past your entrance, it’s not long until you feel the slender length of them brush right against the deepest, most pleasurable part of you only to retract and repeat until you feel like your moans could potentially cause you to lose your voice.

What’s embarrassing is that even though he’s going moderately slow, allowing for you to pick up on the rhythm and adjust as needed, you still find yourself squirming to the touch, your vocal ability seeming restless.

He pulls his fingers out before he can feel your convulsions any further, wanting to reserve your climax for a better ending.

“So fucking hard right now, jagi.” he speaks in what may be reassurance or an explanation as to why he stopped fingering you and started untying his sweatpants instead.

“If that’s the case you just gotta fuck me a little harder than usual. Put it to the test, y’know?”

He knows all too well as his length stands hard and almost swollen beneath his touch, his legs squirming the slightest bit as he strokes himself slowly, the lingering remains of your juices that were left on his fingers being something of a lubricant for him.

You whine in anticipation and gesture for him to continue as planned, reclining a little further back and spreading your legs wide for him.

His eyes are on yours as his tip almost magnetically lines with your core, automatically slipping in due to the slipperiness. Your moans are almost alike, pitch being the only differentiating factor. As he pushes halfway in, a light squelching sound is heard before it’s abruptly cut off by the skin of his hipbone slapping against yours as well as the yelp you let out.

“Yoongi…”

You don’t regret asking him to go hard moments ago as the newness is something you’re sure you can get used to very quickly and even die happily in. He’s usually soft and slow; sex between you both is almost always intimate and slow. So when he continues to fuck himself into you like it’s the end of the world, you can’t help but gradually melt away into that climatic pool of bliss a little quicker than usual.

Just as you began to mentally question how you were going to ever redeem yourself from potentially cumming too fast, his hips slow down and he pauses for a moment to catch his own breath and come back to earth for a moment.

“Fuck.” he mutters in a pant, forehead having just started to prick with sweat.

His hands engulf the tops of each of your thighs, bracing himself gently against you as you both allow your heavy breathing to sound up the whole room.

It’s not long until you miss that feeling of pleasure that was starting to creep its way into your lower stomach, so you begin to softly grind with his length still bottomed out in you.

He jolts at the unexpectedness but then molds into the pleasurable feeling that he benefits from it, an airy moan escaping from the depths of his throat.

Your arms lock around his sweaty neck, holding him close as your hips continue to grind onto him, his length rubbing your insides just right. His hands travel to your waist, gripping with slight pressure as if he doesn’t plan to ever let go.

Your moans as well as his are more of mumbled hums and whines rather than vigorous exclamations like how it was a moment ago. Those mumbled whines of yours pick up as his teeth latch onto the delicate skin of your neck, nibbling in a teasing yet comforting manner. You grind harder.

“Don’t stop, baby. Feels so good when you do that.”

You hum in response, easily complying with his request. The familiar sensation made its appearance in your abdomen after your pace picked up, the sensation slowly cascading throughout what feels like every bone and nerve in your body until it crashes down heavily into your lower stomach, releasing at your core that’s still filled with Yoongi.

“Yoongi, I’m c-cumming.”

He felt you as you pulsated around him, a familiar signal that lets him know whenever you're close, if not there. He doesn’t fail to get closer himself each time your pussy pulsates around him, suctioning him up so pleasurably until that same bone-felt feeling swallows him whole and spits him back out in the form of milky liquid pumping out of him and cascading deep inside of you.

And it’s not until you’re both frozen, busy soaking in that feeling, that you relish in the realization of how good you make each other feel. The warm mess of both your climaxes balancing between your bodies, waiting for the retraction so it can drip out, showcasing itself to your vision.

Yoongi hisses through his teeth upon pulling out, the sensitivity at its highest. You retract your sticky arms from his heated neck, falling back onto your palms as you watch him use the back of his hand to wipe his forehead.

His eyes catch you staring, a lazy smile creeping onto his dazed features.

“I should play more often.” he humorously notes, nodding over to the tile side of the piano. You laugh to the best of your abilities, exhaustion having already taken over your body and mind.

“You should.”

…

After he took the initiative to clean you both up with a warm rag and wipe any evidence off of the piano, he guided you to bed to which you both ended up having a pretty great sleep, to say the least.

~~~

A/N: ew not the “and they lived happily ever after, the end” lol don’t mind the ending it’s 3 am and this took me so long to finish 😭 anywho, hope u enjoyedddd <3

{bts!aesthetic}  Wherein Yoongi is a pianist and Seokjin is his muse ‘’…and cry, and cry, cry over the love of you’’

[ BTS | aesthetic! ]  The Pianist 

#HappySugaDay 🎉