Yoongi X Kitten - Tumblr Posts

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 5k

Genre: smut, pwp, slightest angst, plenty of fluff, established relationship, idol!AU

Rating: 18+, minors scroll away.

Synopsis: Set after the events in Illicit Affairs | MYG, Kitten finds the courage to take that step that always makes her a bit uneasy. She finds out her brave decision was way more than worth it.

Warnings: angst in forms of them needing to part because of Yoongi's schedule, and Kitten's toxic ex, and Yoongi's shoulder (he's still injureed in this one). Swearing, very descriptive unprotected oral sex (female and male receiving) face riding, blindfold, sub!yoongi, breast worship (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), squirting, ofc cumeating, spitting kink (? i guess it's called snowballing technically).

Author's note: This was requested by @dani2008aguilar (tags arent working dumblr, fix that) so thank you Dani and another special mention goes to the wifey @joheunsaram who betaed this lovingly (and hornily LOL)

Here is my masterlist, enjoy!!!

There were many things you had chosen not to say.

First, that you were scared of Yoongi leaving so early in your attempt at a relationship.

Second, that a part of you still feared him finding someone better — more understanding, unproblematic, empathetic.

Third, that you wanted to hide in his bed and stay there, possibly forever, possibly with him.

For now, you were just lounging there, hair wet, body naked and wrapped in a towel.

He was currently in the bathroom, flossing and shaving. He was so neat. Such a maniacal perfectionist.

You snickered at the thought and stood, getting rid of your towel and putting on one of his t-shirts. The glass wall dividing the shower from the bedroom was largely appreciated by Yoongi at that moment. The design that had convinced him and Namjoon both to buy an apartment in that building was definitely worth the money.

Yoongi stared at your frame in one of his signature FG shirts, your breasts and curves making the hem hit a couple inches higher than his usual fit.

Once he entered the room, he laid down on his side of the bed, waiting for you to join. He looked adorable in his light, loose pajamas, so soft and blatantly expensive. It was one of the few items he was willing to spend good money on — with the exception of music equipment.

You found your place on the bed and snuggled up against him.

“Isn't it getting a bit too hot to sleep all cuddled up?”

You blinked at that and scooted away. It was confusing since he was the one who would always stick to you by morning come; still, you let it slide. It would be your last night together before his so-called “cramming-week” and he wanted space. So you gave it to him, no matter how disappointing it felt.

However, it was as if he could sense he had said something wrong. “Kitten?”

“Yes.”

He came closer, spooning you. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Mh mh,” you confirmed drily.

His hand suddenly appearing around your waist almost disturbed you. “Kitten?”

You moved away to shut the light. Yoongi was confused.

“Love?”

“Let's sleep. It will be a long week.” You fluffed up your pillow and found your sleeping position.

On the opposite side of the bed, he switched on his light. “I won't be able to sleep until you tell me what happened.”

You shook your head. “Nothing.”

“Why are you upset at me? Because of the cuddles? I was being sarcastic and we both know I wanted them!” he complained petulantly.

“Then don't make me feel like shit about them!” you snapped back almost loudly.

Yoongi froze a little at your remark. “I'm sorry about what I said, ____. I was teasing you but it's okay if you're not in the mood. I'd like some cuddles, please.”

You exhaled and opened your arms at him. He immediately threw himself at you, closing his eyes once he felt you starting to pet him affectionately. “I overreacted. The distance thing worries me.”

He nodded and kissed your chest. “I'm sorry I didn't get you. I should have asked.”

“There's also… something else, I guess…” you started vaguely.

“What is it?” He immediately sat up straight, cupping your cheek. “Are you okay? Is this okay? Are you—”

“Everything is fine,” you reassured him quickly. “It's just that there's something I've wanted to ask you the whole day and I kept telling myself I needed to find the right timing and I kept postponing and I feel like I have no time left now.”

“Kitten,” he cooed sympathetically, fondly.

“I want uh… I— Would you like, uhm… to go down on me?” you almost whispered, your words rushing out of your mouth.

He blinked a couple times. “You want it now?” He watched you blush and look away before gripping your chin and making you look at him. “Look at me and tell me if you want it now or not.” As you tried to avert your gaze, he moved like a snake to maintain eye contact.

“Yes, now,” you confirmed shyly.

He placed his lips on yours delicately, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheekbones. “I'm sorry I reacted that way. Did you feel like I was doing what your ex did?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around him, secretly so grateful for his understanding. “I know you're not him, but sometimes I prefer not asking than being denied. And I don't want you to feel forced into saying yes.”

“Trust me, you don't need to convince me,” he started kissing down your jawline, reaching your ear and purring against it as he murmured, “I was born for this.”

You chuckled as your toes curled, his voice working its magic on you, as always. “I bet you are.”

“I can't wait to prove it to you.” He slotted his leg between yours, letting you grind against it as he dedicated some more attention to your neck and chest.

“Do you want me to take the shirt off?” you asked, lost in the feel of him so absorbed by your body.

“As long as you're comfy,” he replied tenderly, his fingers slipping the neckline to the side so he could nibble and suck at your collarbone. “We're just getting started.”

You snickered and threw your head back, giving him more of your naked skin. “What would you say if I asked for a blindfold?”

Yoongi slowed down and parted from you, his expression sultry as he looked into your eyes. “Won't that trigger you?”

You shook your head. “I want to focus on the feeling and… I mean, in the past, not looking helped my mind from wandering.”

With a kiss on your cheek, he rose and stretched to his drawer. “What's our safeword, Kitten?”

“Yellow to slow down, Red to stop. Green to go,” you replied diligently, watching him rummage into his drawer until a gummy smile accompanied him fishing out a black silk blindfold. “I use it for travelling.”

You snorted in a very unimpressed way. “Yeah, sure.”

His petty expression made you laugh as he arched an eyebrow and sat on his heels. “We both know you don't want me to edge you, right?”

His tone made your laugh freeze on your lips, your hands reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it off, trying to appease him with the sight of your naked chest. “Sorry,” you mumbled meekly.

He nodded to himself and climbed on top of you. “It's okay. We're good, baby. I just need you to remember you are the one who requested the blindfold, so you're in control of it, okay? You can wear it, take it off, burn it, I don't care. It's your own toy and you're in power. Okay?”

You nodded and settled down, propping yourself up.

“I know you've done this before and just avoided it with your ex, but if anything triggers you, you give me your safeword. You're in charge, yes? I am serving you,” Yoongi stated clearly. “You have all the power. To stop me, to order me around, to use me and move on me however you like.” His gaze was steady as he held your eyes with his. “I'm bottoming for you, are you alright with that?”

You didn't know it was actually contemplated in the picture. And the idea of Yoongi being so adamant in his will to submit was not only enlightening but also arousing. “I don't want to hurt you though.”

“I can set my boundaries. I'll use the safewords too if I need them.”

“Okay then,” you confirmed, trying to relax.

He laid on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he touched his lips to yours. “How are you feeling?” he asked, closing his eyes and feeling your skin with his face. The smoothness of your neck under his lips, the warmth of your chest against his cheek, the light sheen of perspiration between your breasts meeting the tip of his nose, his mouth, and the taste of your sweat on his tongue, salty, an anticipation of the flavour of your wetness.

And then the softness of your breast under his teeth, grazing your flesh before sinking in. And then the rough texture of your nipple.

“I'm doing perfect,” you breathed out, running your fingers through his hair. “You're so lovely, baby.”

Yoongi smiled and nuzzled up against your chest. “I know,” he teased before turning serious. “You make me like that,” he praised you before sucking your flesh into his mouth.

“You love sucking my boobs, don't you?”

He stayed attached to you and nodded. The motion made your insides clench. He released your skin with a pop, nuzzling it with his nose to dry it — but also to check that it bruised enough to stick around for a week, while he’s gone. And your blood vessels bloomed so close to the surface that not abusing them was a shame. He would have marked your whole body if he could have.

You enjoyed watching him for a minute before grabbing the blindfold and putting it on. You knew that not looking was in large part an excuse to experiment with him. You wanted the trust. And you wanted to feel him, only him. You would have plenty of time to watch him do that in the future. Right then you wanted to dive into sensations — focus on how different it feels rather than looks.

Something wet, soft, hot circled your belly button. His tongue. And then his teeth nibbled at it. You knew you had to be gooey between your legs. You felt the creamy wetness already.

Yoongi’s hands landed on the inside of your knees, spreading you wide.

Yoongi was never one to believe in the motto ‘the world is your oyster’. He preferred willing surrender rather than reckless exploitation.

But now, with your legs spread wide in front of him and that wet, salty scent filling his nostrils, with the way your breasts moved so blatantly in front of him rising and falling with deep breaths, your folds glistening as he parted them with his fingers, he found the small pearl between your legs. He had been offered an oyster, and he was ready to enjoy every single millimetre of it until you were begging for reprieve to gods unknown.

He grabbed two pillows from his side of the bed and slid an arm behind your lower back. “Lift your hips, please, love.”

You did as he asked, lowering yourself only to find out your hips were significantly raised now.

“This way my neck won’t cramp. It will feel good, I promise.” Yoongi’s words hit two inches shy of your mound, his hot breath fanning over your damp skin.

“Just lick me already,” you breathed out, only slightly exasperated.

He chuckled, tempting you. He brushed his lips against your labia. “What did you say, Kitten?”

You felt your cheeks heat up and your voice cracked a little as you complained — with way less outrage now — “Just lick me already.”

He laughed. And then he delivered.

His first lick was glorious, slow, torturing. He pushed his tongue into your entrance, then he slipped it out. And then he licked up.

It was heaven. And the moment he found your clit, you knew you had the longest night of your life right in front of you.

You mewled.

“Just like that, kitty cat,” he taunted you before his tongue turned serpentine, heading back down and drawing a series of tantalising curves with the very tip of it before delivering three short and dainty licks to your very clit — not the hood, not the sides —, each in a different direction.

He closed his mouth, rubbed his lips side to side against your core, covering his lower face in your juices.

“Any requests? Suggestions?” he murmured, stopping for half a second.

“Everything you did but more and harder,” you panted, gasping in disrespect as he grabbed your legs and spread you wider, turning ravenous over you, sucking your nectar out of you and spitting it over your folds. He was literally in heaven. He was feasting, his mind was hazy and his heart was beating old songs of desire and mirth. He watched your skin glisten, he heard it squelch and he tasted it as his spit and your wetness mixed up. It was so beautiful he closed his eyes and dove into it all. He didn’t care. He was just a man, and you were his object of worship.

He knew he would need hours to feel like he had done everything he could and finally give in to exhaustion. But he wasn’t anywhere close to even a mild tiresomeness, so he got into his rightful position and dug in.

You didn’t know what was happening. He had one thousand tongues. One thousand hands.

He touched everything, tickled every spot, licked every inch, turned you inside out. You weren’t sure you were still you by the time your first high came around.

You needed to clench around something but he refused to give you that, no matter how hard you begged, how much you promised, how desperately you bargained. He gave you ten percent of what a true orgasm would have been by denying you fullness.

You ended up sobbing, pushing, pulling, thrusting into him, wriggling like a feral beast underneath him, trying to escape him while he pinned you down with all the strength he had.

You could only feel tongues. Thousands of them.

And then, while oversensitivity possessed you, he had the brilliantly cruel idea of catching your clitoris in his mouth — and sucking. Hard.

Your hands flew to his hair, grabbing it, tugging at it — away — then pressing him back down when you found out that tightened his hold and made it all even more unbearable.

Yoongi had the vague impression you had to be screaming. He didn’t care. He heard a beeping sound in his ears — it usually meant the head was good. He didn’t have the heart to ask you; first, because he didn’t fish for compliments; second, because his mouth was too busy to talk and he was very happy with whatever it was doing at that moment.

He only stopped when you begged for a breath, which he conceded only because he was feeling a bit too breathless himself.

You tugged the blindfold off looking at him just in time to catch him wiping his face with his forearm.

“You’re fucking insane!” you exclaimed, slapping at his hand as he tried to bring it between your legs. “Gimme ten minutes or something!” you joked — while also being pretty serious.

He chuckled. “Feedback?”

You shook your head and threw it back on the pillow. “I’ll ask for this a lot. But you’d better slide those pretty fingers in next time or I swear I’ll never let you eat me out ever again.”

He kissed your belly. “I’ll slide my fingers in the day you’ll look me in the eye while you fuck my face.”

Your face boiled at the thought. It wasn’t ‘oral sex’, or ‘eating out’ or ‘going down’. It’s ‘fucking his face’, with all the rowdiness and dirtiness it entailed. It was feral and forbidden and so extremely naughty, with a pinch of vulgar and unspeakable.

You loved it.

“The blindfold stays off,” you announced, cosying up into your spot, fluffing the pillow behind your head. “I’m ready.”

He grinned. “You want to watch me, kitty cat?” That was his nickname. The one you used to tease him with. It wasn’t the usual ‘Kitten’ he used with you — he was taunting you.

“I want your prodigious fingers inside me, kitty cat.”

He showed you his gummy smile. “You’re a fast learner. Grab my head, I won’t be happy till I’m gasping for air.”

“You know a job well done,” you teased, cupping his crown and pushing him down, till his chin and lips and nose slid down your mound, rubbing against it in a way that made you shiver. “Just do it again but fuck me with your fingers this time.”

He lapped at your entrance three, four times, letting his drool slide all the way to his fingers — two awaiting just below your entrance. He realised he was rubbing himself against the sheets below him. He wanted a pillow.

He didn’t know how but you noticed and passed him one. Call it the perk of sleeping with too many pillows.

His situation fixed, he turned back to work. He was more than grateful to do so, his fingers inside you started rubbing that perfect spot, the one he had learnt so well with all the random fucking you had done in the last week or so. “Which kind of motion do you like?”

You stared at his face. His cheeks were adorably red, his hair curling at the tips with perspiration, and his eyes were so black, flooded with frenzy. “Try a few, I liked more than one.”

He nodded. “Stop me with the right one, okay? I want to please you, Kitten.”

You combed his hair back, trying to get the best view of his tongue lolling out and tentatively flicking it against your clit.

And there he was: the glorious Min Yoongi. Tongue out, bubblegum pink, eyes closed as he took a larger lick, slurping side to side slowly, voluptuously, sucking at the labia diving in to rub his nose to your folds, to smell you, taste you, feel you.

His fingers were relentless while his mouth assaulted your cunt, robbing it of every ounce of pleasure you could offer.

At some point you realised you were flexing your quads, trying to push into him, against him. He seemed to realise it as he took a pause, using his nose to nudge your clit as he spoke. “Fuck my face, Kitten. Just hold my fucking head and rub yourself over my face. I hold my tongue still and you slide on it.”

You tried to imagine it. “You put it inside and I like… in-out—”

“God no, babe.” He hardened his tongue and nodded, the tough muscle rubbing against you.

“Oh fucking— Goodness, yes!” you sobbed, feeling your orgasm crest over you.

He stopped moving once your body responded naturally, your hands grabbing his hair and tugging him into motion while your hips started to fuck up, against his awaiting tongue.

“Yoongs—” you gasped, your glutes flexing faster, till you felt your hips cramp.

You clamped them shut in response, Yoongi continuing unfazed as he recognised the crest of your climax before you started tumbling down the high at breakneck speed — the same speed at which you were pushing yourself against him.

Yoongi was positively surprised. He had been waiting to see you like this for so long, and now your tits were bouncing as you thrusted up, throwing yourself at him with all your might.

You were unbridled and beautiful and in that precise moment he felt like he was fully serving his duty.

He felt accomplished. The fact that he was also on the verge of his own orgasm was a minor inconvenience to him, one that he solved easily.

“Sit on my face,” he spoke once your clit was too sensitive and you forced him away — his fingers still ministering their attentive stroking against your walls, slow, deliciously so.

“Are you sure?”

“Just sit on my damn face, babe. I promise you’ll love it.” He kissed your belly, then looked at you.

You were sweaty, dishevelled, as if you’d ran a marathon in the middle of August. You didn’t look tired, though.

You were glowing and insatiable. “Okay. How?”

He wrapped his arms around your legs, his hands holding the small of your back. “Follow me,” he said before he rolled on his back and dragged you with him.

You huffed at the manoeuvre, using your hands to steady yourself once you found your hips straddling his face.

“Like this. Good Kitten.”

You chuckled, ready to find a remark when he decided to spread your labia with his thumbs and dig in once more.

“You’re hungry, uh?”

“You’d better remember your safeword because I won’t stop till I collapse.” He was rock hard. His pyjamas were stroking him just barely and he could still feel himself pulse. He hoped at some point he would be lucky enough for you to notice him, and kind enough to offer him relief.

You smiled. “Just this last one, okay? I need you alive and well so you can cram all week and I can fuck you dry next weekend.” You touched his hair. “Just for safety, pinch my leg twice if I’m hurting you, okay?”

He nodded meekly. “Okay.” He looked into your eyes. “I love you, Kitten.”

You licked your lips. You were somehow aware that what you felt for Yoongi couldn’t be just love. It had to be something stronger, something superior.

Or maybe no one had ever loved you before. “I love you too, Yoongi.”

All softness was gone after that. He ravished you once more, tapping his tongue three, four times against your nub before lashing it out, mercilessly.

And then he began to suck.

“God no…” You knew what was about to happen. It had never happened like this before though. Maybe it was because of his fingers hitting an unexpected nook. Maybe it was the combination of all the motions. Maybe the position. “I’m gonna—”

Yoongi was alert, but not worried. You would have already punched him in the face if anything was going wrong.

Instead you were moving faster, harder against him.

He was ecstatic.

He let it happen. He watched it happen.

One second he was sucking your clit, the next his entire face was drenched, covered in a transparent liquid without smell or taste.

It was the first time it ever happened to him — and he was fucking glad you were the first to ever reward his hard work like this.

Meanwhile, you were lost someplace between heaven and hell, your confusion long abandoned as you simply basked in the moment.

Min Yoongi had just made you squirt all over his face and chest and he was basking in it like a gladiator in his crowd’s cheers.

You had screamed his name too, most definitely causing misery to all your neighbours, but you were too high to care.

When you came back, Yoongi was still slowly, diligently licking you, this time with tenderness and dedication. If you had fucked his face before, now he was making out with your cunt, with tender kisses and fond caresses of his tongue.

“Quite a show, my love,” he murmured.

He had loved watching your breasts bounce, your head thrown back, your thighs wiggling at the way you were riding him. And your face — sweet mercy, your face…

He was lost in you.

“The neighbours are gonna hate me.”

Yoongi chuckled and shrugged. “They’ll simply be jealous of not having you as theirs.” He helped you lay back on the covers.

“Fuck, look at this mess—” you fussed immediately, noticing the wetness on the grey covers.

“I’ll deal with that. You go clean up,” he said, drying his face with the sheets before turning towards you, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.

You frowned at how impersonal it felt, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him closer before planting your lips on his, pushing your tongue to his mouth until he opened it, allowing you to slide into the cave where he was still treasuring the taste of you.

And then you felt it, his crotch against your hip. “I’m gonna blow you,” you whispered, more as a declaration than a request.

He whined, but still he rolled onto his back, fixing his arms behind his head, getting comfortable. “It’ll be the easiest orgasm you’ve claimed from me.”

You giggled and settled between his legs, rolling down his bottoms and underwear just enough to free his dick. “Damn, you’re delicious,” you murmured, staring at him, tracing the pulsating vein crawling up his length.

He hissed and thrusted up.

You wasted no time: you swallowed half of him and grabbed the rest with your hand, drooling aplenty to get some lubrication in your palm.

Three strokes and his hips started gyrating, the salty, bitter flavour of him already hitting your tongue.

“I fucking love you, Kitten,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “I fucking love your sweet cunt on my face and your sweet throat around my cock.” You bobbed your head on him even more enthusiastically. “I love every damn thing about you, baby.”

He was so far gone and you were so helplessly proud of it.

He spilled inside you in a minute, and you took him diligently, not wasting a drop of him.

His orgasm was endless and he was wrecked by the time it ended, oversensitivity making him hiss and fuss.

You simply smeared the last bubble of cum he had to offer and headed back up, at his side.

As he stared into your eyes, his eyelids lowering sultrily into exhaustion, you pressed your dirty fingers to his lower lip, tracing it enticingly before he parted his lips.

Tentatively, letting him understand what was happening, you rolled on top of him, only a couple inches separating your lips from his.

You got closer.

One inch.

Half.

You opened your mouth, letting a lazy dribble of pleasure roll down your tongue and fall into his awaiting one.

He purred at the gesture, showing you how he swallowed it before he arched up, and wrapped his lips around your tongue, sucking it into his mouth.

It became one more sloppy make out session, where he managed to earn out one more lazy, weak climax as he rubbed himself against your hip.

And then you found yourself laying side by side in the disastrous aftermath of an exceedingly sloppy, wet session of oral sex.

Not even in your worst night you had managed to make half the mess you were seeing in that moment.

“We need to shower. Again,” you commented, Yoongi peacefully kissing your chest while he breathed in and out, his eyes closed.

“Just a minute,” he debated before hearing you dissent.

“Come on, kitty cat. You can nap on the tiddies later. Let’s go shower.”

“I want cuddles,” he spoke through a pout.

That made your heart melt. “I’ll cuddle you in the shower.”

“Can we take a bath instead?”

You chuckled. “We can take a bath, baby.” You kissed the top of his head. You had no idea who was the messier between the two of you at the moment. You only knew it was your turn to take care of your kitty cat tonight.

You managed to slide out of bed and get Yoongi’s favourite bath bomb in the tub while some warm water was running. You almost had to princess-carry him to the bathroom, his face nuzzled into your neck while you managed to make him waddle there as he hugged you.

Then he fussed some more when you had to leave him in the tub alone to change the sheets — thanking the waterproof mattress cover while you changed every single item of bedding, frowning at the three out of six pillows that needed to be washed.

It took you maybe ten minutes before you were back in the bathroom, spooning Yoongi in the tub, rubbing his shoulder and neck.

“I want to meet your physiotherapist,” you murmured. “I want to learn how to soothe your shoulder and back muscles. Your neck too. You spend too much time hunched over your desk.”

He nodded absentmindedly. “You don’t need to baby me because of the shoulder.”

“I know.” You proved your point by pressing two specific points at the base of his neck, causing him to groan in pleasure and relief. “This is why I want to learn.”

Yoongi chuckled. “I’ll arrange a meeting.”

He leaned back into your chest, turning his face to the side and rubbing the tip of his nose against your neck. “I like when you take care of me when I’m tired.”

You smiled. He was the one who babied you when you were tired, spoiling you rotten. It was only natural for you to return the favour just as ardently. “I do, too.” You also loved babying him when he was vulnerable and lovely and exhausted.

“I love you a lot. I want to wear my heart on my sleeve for you.”

You felt your eyes water a little. How had someone so delicate and strong and committed ended up in your life? How was he so perfect, so made for you?

“And I’ll protect it from anyone who wants to hurt you.” It was a pact. He would be open to you, and you would never hurt all the gentle, tender sides he showed you, all his unshielded softnesses. “Allow me to protect you,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his temple. “I know I’m difficult, and unfriendly and rough—”

“You’re not. You’re tough and loyal and determined. And you’re so, so loved for it.” You naturally found his hands, speaking that language he knew so well. You wrapped your arms around him. Kissed his forehead. “You’re so, so loved too, Yoongi.”

You felt him relax in your embrace. “I like it when you hold my hands.”

For the first time in years, you felt it.

Peace.

“I like it too.”

On Duty | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 6k

Genre: smut, pwp, slight angst

Rating: 18+, minors, do not interact

Synopsis: We all have needs, and they require to be catered to. When those deeper, darker cravings hit, it is only normal to look for our partner‘s assistance. And as a newly-wed husband, Yoongi doesn‘t cower away from his duties.

Warnings: Breast-slapping. Mild spanking; alcohol consumption, swearing, mention of cheating. Degradation kink (usage of “bitch” as degrading), grinding, pussy slapping, deprivation, oral sex (male and female receiving), face riding, sixty-nine. Brief mention of assplay (rimming), prostate massage, anal fingering (male receiving), ruined orgasm (male receiving), cum play, cum eating, breast worship. Listen, Yoongi calls Kitten ‘mami’ at some point, don’t come at me it felt fucking damn right. Unprotected sex (WRAP IT, KIDS). Multiple orgasms, mild overstimulation. OH AND… yeah, queefing. But it’s absolutely chill, and playful.

A/N: Hello everyone! This took long but apparently my spicy flow has been recovered! I’m writing every moment I have, hoping the juice doesn’t leave me. Sorry for being absent! I can’t wait to finish with the Small Town Swoons updates and the requests so I can move on with a big fat new project which I already know you’ll all go crazy about!

Thanking @nervous-moon and @joheunsaram for helping me with this one 🥰🥰🥰

Here’s my masterlist, and there you go!

When you entered Yoongi’s studio, you placed your glass of whisky on his coffee table, laying down on his chaise longue.

You waited five minutes. Then ten. You checked the internet for interesting corporate news. You played sudoku.

You sipped on the liqueur until the glass was empty. It was your second, and you were considerably tipsy, maybe because you hadn't eaten that much, given that your boyfriend-freshly-turned-husband was giving you the silent treatment and you didn't even know why.

No matter how insistently you looked at him, Yoongi showed no sign of turning around, his eyes focused solely on the monitor right in front of him.

You clicked your tongue before exhaling. You were ready for war. “Do you perhaps know an agency for male escorts?” You started, tapping your foot with annoyance, trying to control the urge to throw your slipper at him. Maybe if you hit the screen hard enough he would actually take your existence into consideration.

At first he ignored your question, only to mumble 'what?' a few minutes later.

“Male escorts. Do you know any?”

“Bachelorette party?” He guessed. You rolled your eyes. That is not the point, Min Yoongi.

“No.” You lounged some more, and he let your question fade from his mind, time flowing by as you grew more and more annoyed. The whisky hadn’t helped at all. You just wanted to fill the glass with icy water, dump it all over him and then smash the delicate crystal piece on the floor.

You stood and shot your last shot. You walked over to him, standing behind his chair and bending over the back of it. You placed your lips half a millimeter away from his neck. The tip of your tongue peaked out, giving a minuscule lick that made his spine straighten.

“What?” he said, still distracted

You placed your open mouth against his skin, making sure you suckled it a bit, just barely, just to increase his blood flow and make him more sensitive. Once you were happy with the small wet patch, you blew your hot breath against it.

Yoongi’s eyes rolled closed. “I gotta finish this.”

“Finish it tomorrow.” You found his weak spot, just over his carotid artery and nipped it with your teeth before licking it lewdly, kissing it repeatedly, teasing him with the soft inside of your lips, moving an inch down his neck before heading up.

“Kitten, please. I really want to finish this layer.” He fake-sobbed and squeezed his eyes shut.

You let go of him. “It’s not for a bachelorette party. The escort, I mean.” You turned around and picked up the glass. “It’s for me. Since I'm already on the single wife shit.” He heard you complain as you walked away. “Fuck this and the stupid underwear.”

He rubbed his eyes. There was no point going on, all he could think of was your mouth on him. He stood and reached you in the kitchen.

You were wearing your honeymoon set.

“Kitten.”

You shook your head. “Go fuck yourself.”

You left him alone in the kitchen, stomping your feet a little as you walked to the bedroom.

“Kitten…” he sighed, chasing after you.

You shook your head and unclasped your bra, throwing it to the ground and heading to the bathroom to grab your sleeping shirt. You slipped it on and got rid of your panties too. “Leave. I’ve got the wand. Go finish your fucking layer or whatever.”

Yoongi looked at you through the mirror. He was a little hurt. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s Saturday! You promised me Saturdays! This is the third one you miss.” You hissed. “Might as well divorce already if we’re doing arranged meetings.”

He grabbed your wrist and turned you around, cupping your nape and kissing you with intention. “I’m your escort for tonight.”

You couldn’t think straight. Not when he was pressing you against the wall, his hand lifting your shirt and grabbing your breast.

“Don’t you have a layer to finish?”

He shook his head. “My wife requires to be fucked.” His hand grabbed your ass. “And don’t you ever act passive aggressive with me ever again.” He slapped your butt, not too hard, given the uncomfortable position. “You want sex, you say ‘Yoongi, I wanna fuck’. No biggie.” He parted your legs with his knee. “Damn escort…” He was ready to rip the shirt off you when he stopped and sobered up. “You want this, Kitten?”

You frowned for a second. “Do you want this? Want me?”

“You're the one who's been drinking,” he said, matter of factly.

“Just two glasses. I was angry.” You barely put up a fight before rubbing yourself against his thigh.

Cruelly he moved his leg away. “Naughty,” he hissed. “Do I have your consent, Kitten?”

“You know you fucking have it,” you hissed back, your hands gripping his hips so hard it almost hurt. He stared into your eyes for ten viciously long seconds, then he pushed your shirt all the way up, taking it off before his mouth found your breast instantly, sucking a mark there. Your eyes were crossing, thighs starting to clench right when he stopped. “You still want an escort, mh? Or do you want me?” he questioned minaciously.

You shook your head as pleasure started bubbling all over you. “You.”

He smirked sadistically, the tip of his fingers hitting your breast in a fast and light motion.

He watched your back arch in reply, your naked folds brushing against his clothed thigh. He pressed his wrist right against your mound, pushing you back against the wall and cupping your crotch, grabbing it possessively. “Whose is this?” he snarled, his teeth ruthless as they nipped at your earlobe.

“Yours,” you whimpered, trying to find friction — to no avail.

“Louder. Whose is this?” He inquired again, this time growing peevish and impatient.

“It's yours,” you spoke intelligibly.

He knelt. “True. All mine.” He smiled cunningly. “Now you're gonna turn around, take a step away from the wall, place your hands on the tiles, and bend over for me, your damn husband.”

You started to move, but he stopped you. “I want your back arched so bad you'll need stretching when we're done. And I want your nipples pressed to the cold tiles. If at any point I find out you broke the rule, I'm gonna stop everything, push you to the floor and fuck you like the horny bitch you are.” He took a pause to kiss your navel before nibbling on it too. “Ass up, tits pressed to the floor. You'd love it, wouldn't you? Screaming my name… Reminding the neighbours who fucks you so good.”

You were panting by the time you actually turned around, positioning yourself for him.

He smiled and stood up, washing his hands, scrubbing his nails before deciding he was ready to get started.

The calluses on his fingertips met the back of your knees, raising goosebumps as they travelled up, to your ass.

He grabbed your hips and pushed you closer to the wall. His right hand slid to your front, his middle and ring finger spreading just enough so they would lay on your labia and avoid all the spots you wanted him to touch.

His mouth at your ear, he whispered, “Spread, I said.”

You widened your stance, but apparently he wasn’t satisfied.

“Wider, Kitten,” he growled.

You obeyed – not without a sliver of hesitation.

He pressed himself against the curve of your butt before lifting his hand. And smacking it against your needy cunt. It took you a second to react as you didn’t fully register what had just happened.

He cackled. “You weren’t acting so prudish earlier. Faking surprise doesn’t suit you,” he taunted you.

“I wasn’t faking it,” you replied, honestly confused. “It just took me a second to process.”

Yoongi came back to Earth long enough to make sure he hadn’t overstepped. “Mh. Would you like to try again?”

He was challenging you. But you also caught his question. Do you want this? “Maybe with a second attempt you can actually give it to me right.”

He groaned and hit you with intention this time, irritation growing real.

And this time he hit you just as you exhaled, manifesting a little squeal. “Is this right for you? For a woman with needs?” He asked before mocking you with a dry chuckle. “Were you wearing your little slutty set for me to notice you and fuck you? You should have just asked.” He spanked you again, causing your knees to quiver.

“Maybe I wanted to feel desired. Maybe I wanted you to want me without having to beg for your attention,” you sneered.

“Oh. I see. Poor nympho, deprived by her dumb hubby.”

Nympho. That word used to be weaponised against you, but you had learnt to accept it, to wear it and shrug it off at your own command. “Are you gonna hold it against me?”

He chuckled and licked the side of your neck before grabbing your breast with his free hand, squeezing it. “Your sex drive? Never.” He kissed below your ear. “I love it.”

“You usually also love sliding your fingers inside me, but apparently you’re making me beg for it, uh? You’re making me beg for a lot of things.”

Your dark cackle made him lose his mind, his hand slapping your breast this time around. “You’re so dirty.” He kissed your nape. “It’s amazing.”

“For a second I thought you were really into insulting me.” You placed your hand on top of his, between your legs. “I was getting a bit scared.”

“You usually like it when I go on and on about how much you like sex–”

“I like it even better when it’s my husband actually giving it to me,” you stated matter-of-factly. “But lately he hasn’t been serving his purpose.”

Yoongi was surprised by your statement. “So my purpose is keeping you fucked and fed, mh?”

You laughed and nodded. “Yes, please. That’s the ultimate fantasy.”

Yoongi laughed too before kneeling. “Sorry for making you feel insulted.” He pressed his lips to your left glute, before giggling a little. “I’m literally kissing your ass so I think I should be excused.”

“I might take your apologies into consideration if you actually lick it.” You turned with a cocky grin, looking at him before winking. “You said you love me…”

The tip of Yoongi's tongue poked out, letting you enjoy the pink glistening of it before he pressed it to your skin and drew a thick stripe of drool over your right butt cheek.

He couldn't resist it. He opened his mouth and tightened his teeth around a pinch of your flesh, sucking it, humming as he did so, his hand travelling to his crotch to fix the uncomfortable stitching pressing against his sex. Once he released your skin, he murmured, “I do love you. In fact, I love you so much I still wanna eat you even when you're a bitch to me.” He felt so strangely calm after saying that, like he was finding you again, after weeks of chaos and rampage. “Can I eat you out like this? Do you… is this position uncomfortable?”

You clicked your tongue to deny you were uncomfortable in any way, then you reached for his shoulder, skimming it with your nails in a way that made him purr. “Give it to me, mr. D.”

He licked his lips. “I give you permission to say that each time I forget why I married you.”

You rolled your eyes and snickered. “Yes, fine, great, now stop talking and start licking, thank you.”

He bit your ass in reply, getting you to squeal and straighten your stance. He grabbed your hips and pushed you back, against his awaiting tongue.

Once you processed the tip of his tongue flicking at your entrance, you felt your eyes cross, pleasure finally snapping inside you, hitting you hard and fast. “Fuck, you’ve been teasing for too long.”

He hummed, his tongue finding its happy nook, the tip touching your clit, the rest of it sliding slippery against your labia. He let it glide against your skin, the taste of you sinking in, the precariousness of the position causing his tongue to wiggle continuously as he tried to maintain contact, to find the right spot and keep it.

“Fuck… Too good,” you managed to pant out, arching further, giving him more room, trying to get him more comfortable.

He took in large breaths as his hand slipped to your front and his nimble fingers started teasing your labia and clitoris while he took a pause. The angle of his wrist was so familiar to the one you usually had on yourself, with his palm directly facing your belly, no strange rotations, uncomfortable leverages, strange twists that ended up cutting on the pressure he could apply to your sensitive spot.

“Kitten,” he called, repeating your nickname twice before you actually replied. “You in the mood for…” He hesitated before suggesting, “Assplay?”

You blinked. “Uhm…” you tried to recall some reasons why you avoided it rather often. “Dental dam?”

Yoongi’s hand slowed down before he squeezed his eyes, scrunching his nose. “Fuck. I forgot. Sorry, love.”

You pouted. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m just sorry I turn it down so often—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured.

Of course you were monogamous. Both of you were — and had been for years, at this point. But the chances of Yoongi wanting to use his mouth elsewhere afterwards were far too high for either of you to feel safe without protection. And you usually took your time to clean yourself properly before any activity involving your anus. It just felt dirty, in some way.

“Do you wanna cum like this?” Yoongi asked, distracting you.

“What's on the menu?” you wondered, a cheeky look on your face.

He arched an eyebrow. “You’re my honoured guest tonight. Anything’s on the menu for you.”

You said what always made him grin from ear to ear. “Wanna sit on my throne like a fucking queen.”

Yoongi rewarded you with your favourite laugh before nuzzling his face against the back of your thigh, spreading kisses and nibbles all over the sensitive skin. “You’re extraordinary.” He scooted over to the carpet, taking off his shirt, his pale torso appearing beneath it.

You turned around to look at him better. His nipples looked so pink against his ivory skin. “Off with your underwear too.”

Yoongi cocked his head to the side in amusement. “How curious. Wanna get a mouthful?”

“Wanna remind you who’s the true MVP at this.” You arched an eyebrow and pressed your foot to his stomach, letting your toes draw a line all the way down, to the waistband of his briefs, to the perfect curve of his erection. “Take 'em off,” you whispered, your voice resonating with preternatural persuasion across the bathroom.

Yoongi took off his underwear clumsily, wiggling and shifting out of it until he managed to tug it off his feet, and once he was done, you decided you should, after all, plant your foot against his chest and push him down, on the carpet.

He stared at you with wide eyes, his chest looking so powerful as large and rapid inhales and exhales made it expand and shrink so visibly.

“Are you ready for it?” you murmured, your voice dark and smoky, just the way he liked it most. Just the way it was first thing in the morning, but also late at night when you lulled him back to sleep, but also while murmuring confessions in the dark, flirting during movie night with the squad.

“Do you really think I'm gonna let you call yourself the MVP and not challenge you?” He smirked devilishly. “Come at me.” He laid down and crossed his arms to pillow his head.

He looked so insanely lean, so perfect in the mellow light of the bathroom, his whole body made to be observed like art.

The mere thought of touching it felt like blasphemy. One is not supposed to disturb the white marble statues like the ones he seemed to embody.

“Who makes the other cum first will win… One week of no dishwashing?” he propositioned, giving you true purpose as he named your most hated chore.

You knelt to look him in the eye, smirking and offering your hand. “Deal?”

He snickered. “Deal.” He shook your hand before laying down and patting his chest. “Make yourself at home,” he said coolly. You straddled his chest and got into position backing up and offering Yoongi one of his favourite sights in the world.

Sure, you in your white dress had been a breathtaking view too, but not quite like your spreaded thighs right above his eyes.

Your mouth was already drooling, your saliva falling in thick blobs over his erection.

"Not fair, you got an early start!” Yoongi complained right before you bit back,

“Well, I'm already wet, you're not. I'm just making things even. Not to mention the spanks and the tongue action.” You blew hot breath over his sensitive skin, feeling him with your lips, making love to the texture of his sex, to the veins, the ridges, the soft, bubblegum tip, and the silky skin of his balls. You felt him with your cheeks, with your nose, taking in the heavy scent, together with the clean taste.

Once you took in the first inch, he reckoned he'd given you enough advantage and it was time for him to start the match.

You gasped and stopped as soon as he found your sweet spot with his tongue, his hands grabbing your glutes and spreading them so he could have better access to your sensitive areas. He felt like grinning as you slowed down, his fingers working their magic as his fingers found your entrance and started toying with it. His tongue was already stretched out reaching for your clit, his upper lip skimming your entrance.

You were distracted just for a minute, during which you didn't even notice your hand was subconsciously touching his balls, your index finger tracing his perineum back and forth before you exhaled on him, asking for more of his tongue on you.

But his more didn't reach you as you swallowed him, bobbing your head viciously, causing him to abandon his head on the floor as he arched his back snapping his hips a couple times.

He bit the inside of your thigh, searching for something that could help him control his moans.

You released him just to ask him quickly, “do you want a finger inside?”

“I didn't prepare…” He moaned, whiny, frowning, fussy.

“I can grab a condom,” you said simply, kissing his pelvis, your gentle touch causing him to shiver.

“This was about me giving you head…” he complained weakly, sinking his fingers into your thighs, squeezing them, trying to feel you. He just wanted to feel you.

“It’s up to you, baby. Right now nothing could please me more than pleasing you,” you tried to argue, stretching your persuasive skills.

Yoongi smiled shyly. “Really?”

“Really, babe.”

“Okay,” he surrendered, his skin buzzing at the pleasure he was about to receive. Sixty-nine never worked on him anyway. You and him both always got too distracted to carry things through fully.

He watched you unstraddle him, heaven disappearing from before his eyes as your naked legs danced in his peripherals, his eyelids too heavy for him to watch your body sway deliciously as you reached a drawer, grabbed a small square of foil and ripped it with your teeth, unrolling the condom on your index and middle finger, adding some lube to it before you went back to Yoongi, his pale body so scrawny and sexy at the same time.

His body was your wonderland, you had told him so aplenty. For him, loving it had become easier since you entered his life.

And knelt there, between his legs, you were his proud owner, asking for him to rise onto his elbows, so you could look at his face as you pressed your fingers to his hole and entered with the tips of your digits.

His gasp, his head thrown back, his hair following the movement in a rippling cascade of raven black.

“Yoongi?”

He moaned your name, spreading his legs wider. “Deeper,” he hissed, whining as his cock clenched a little, precum leaking, your tongue diving for it before you started sucking the tip of his dick.

“More. Please, more.” He was desperate. He wanted you inside, and he wanted you so bad. He wanted…

His thoughts shattered, his restraint breaking as he finally spilled. But it did not last enough. Your mouth wasn't on him anymore.

But he was still cumming. It kept spilling outside your mouth, where just the first spurt had ended before you realised you had different plans.

You kept jerking him off with your free hand, the other overstimulating his prostate, causing him to whine and whimper and call your name, begging for compassion while you simply covered your breasts with all the semen he had to offer.

And once he was done and uttered a 'yellow', you removed your fingers from inside him, removed the condom and focused on comforting him, offering gentle words and sweet praises.

But he dragged you up, he grabbed your face and pulled you towards him, until your face hovered over his. Then past it.

He tightened his arms behind your back, behind your shoulder blades.

And he pulled you down.

You watched him sink his face between your breasts, turning it side to side, his mouth open, his tongue lashing at the skin until he found that sweet spot, his favourite, where your skin was thin and tender and he could mark you, he could brand you. You were the only woman — the only person — he'd ever been so desperate to claim, and he didn't care about the taste in his mouth, or his face glistening in a mixture of your moisture and his own cum.

He wanted to get messy for you — or rather, he was too high to care. Too high on you, on the pleasure that always came from you.

You were mesmerised by his frenzy: you let him roam, suck, lick, bite, mark.

And once his fever seemed to cool you backed up a little, just enough for you to be at eye level with him.

“You feasted, uh, honey?” you asked, looking at him as he stared at you with a taunting smile.

“Your tits are damn sweet.”

You smirked. “Do you know what else is sweet?”

Yoongi waited, a confused and expectant look on his face.

You grabbed his jaw, holding his head still as you bent over him, dragging the flat of your tongue across his cheek, his salty taste spreading on your tastebuds. “You,” you whispered in his ear, pinching his earlobe gently with the tip of your teeth. “You are very fucking sweet… You and your uncontrolled love for my boobs.”

His smile was adorable, pink gums exposed as he grinned wide and ecstatic.

He grabbed your face too, smashing his mouth to yours, opening it wide right from the start, aiming at your tongue with his own, wanting to suck at it. When he tried to find the words to describe exactly what he wanted, he faltered a little before pulling back, your mouth chasing him as you refused him a way out.

He had to push your face away, gasping loudly before panting out, “Fuck my mouth. With your tongue, your fingers. Anything.”

You ground your hips against him, Yoongi purring in return, his gaze turning weak and imploring and lust-addled. “Please,” he begged. “Fuck me.”

His words got you high. You stretched a hand down between your bodies, enjoying the way his dick was hardening right beneath your fingers. “Inside? Already?”

“Yes. Yes, Kitten, yes.” He was there, mouth agape, eyes closing, so beautiful and lost and sensitive and you just knew, you had to push just a little, a tiny little bit.

“Yes what, baby? Tell me.”

His eyes opened just a tiny bit, the dark pearls of his pupils appearing and gleaming at you, kindling a fire so deep you thought you would burn until you had only ashes to offer. He spoke through a pout. “Yes, mami…”

You grinned like the cat who got the cream and slipped him inside. “Such a good boy. Does it feel good?”

“Mh, yeah…” he smiled and you chuckled, starting to move on him. You weren’t entirely stretched out, but you were soaking wet, sliding on him perfectly. After all the foreplay and the dirty talking and especially the cocksucking, you just wanted to get your orgasm and get entirely ruined by your husband.

Husband.

Goodness gracious.

The thought blew your mind, especially once Yoongi caught your hand and brought it to his lips, picking your middle and ring finger and sticking them in his mouth.

You smirked and rubbed them against his tongue, in and out, Yoongi getting extremely vocal about his pleasure.

The fact that your wedding ring was there, laying on your husband’s lower lip as he sucked on your fingers enthusiastically, full of bliss and shamelessness and faith and trust got you to chuckle in pride before he hit your sweet spot and got you to moan. You slowed down your movements, at which Yoongi opened his eyes and pulled away from your fingers. You gave him more space to back away.

“Is everything okay, baby?” You asked, just slightly worried.

“I’m fine. Perfect. Are we?” He blinked quickly, trying to get his brain to connect with reality.

You nodded. “I’m doing super fine.” You watched him pull himself up, to his elbows, then to his hands. He spread his legs a little before he wrapped his arms around you. “Babe?” You asked.

He kissed your chest as he laid his head there, resting. He hummed in reply.

“Are you tired, sweetcheeks?” You ran your hands through his hair. You’d have to wash it later.

“You feel like heaven,” he breathed out. He licked his lips. “So fine.” He hesitated, feeling his heartbeat quicken, his mouth dry, his cheeks redden as he tried it again. “Can I fuck you from behind, mami?”

You looked him in the eye. “You like the nickname?”

He looked back at you. “I’m trying how it feels. I don’t dislike it.”

“I don’t either.” You caressed his cheek with your thumb. “It’s very sweet.”

He nodded, skimming your spine with his fingertips. “But I want to be sort of… not sweet… anymore? Now?”

You nodded. “Mhm. And?”

“And I wanna fuck your brains out, face pressed to the floor, possibly with my hand around your neck and your nipples squished against the cold tiles.” Yoongi looked up at you. “Can we do that?”

You pulled his hair and pushed his head back, leaning down to his neck, licking it before you teased his ear. “Why aren't you doing that already?”

He smirked devilishly before smacking his palm against your ass cheek. “I fucking love you.”

You unstraddled him, Yoongi groaning as his dick left your warm, velvety cunt.

You got yourself on all fours, your back to him as you lowered yourself to your elbows, then pushed your sternum further down, until your chest touched the floor.

You hissed, your nipples hardening as the cold stung you. Yoongi lowered his face to your entrance, his hands grabbing your hips and tilting them just right while he gathered some spit in his mouth, letting it fall on your perineum, watching it slide down to your entrance.

He felt so dirty and so aroused as he watched your labia twitch at the sensation.

With impatience devouring him, he got himself to his knees, aligned his sex with your hole and slid in smoothly.

You weren't tight this time. You were slippery and squelching and he was hitting just right, reaching the very bottom of your vagina, where the inner nerve endings of the clitoris are located.

And he knew how to hit them just right. He pushed inside with a circular motion, using his thigh to match the in and out with an up and down motion.

“Yoongi…”

“I know, kitty cat.” He purred.

You turned your face to the side. “Know what?”

He looked a little dumbfounded at the question.

You grinned. “I'm just messing with you, baby. I know you know. I know you know how good you feel to me, sweetcheeks.”

Yoongi started moving again with a little petty look on his face. “That's right.”

“You feel amazing, Yoongi. You know all my spots.”

He nodded to himself. “I do.”

“You're the most perfect babyboy.” You lowered yourself further, arching your back some more. “Wanna fuck mami real good?” You checked his reaction.

His thrust faltered a little before he pulled out.

And rammed right back inside.

You grunted and hissed a 'yes' in reply.

“Like that?” He growled, repeating the movement. “Uh, mami? That your shit?”

You mewled another confirmation before he started going faster. “Then touch yourself. If you like it that much—”

“I'm— so… P-please…” You started pushing back, against him, the smashing of your skin against his echoing lewdly across the room, hitting the walls, coming back muted. And at some point you just lost it.

You heard a beeping sound in your ears, your blood pressure hitting a spike as the orgasm overthrew you.

Yoongi was too busy smashing you to notice the way your cunt made funny air noises as he pushed into you, deeper, stretching you.

He just wrapped a hand around the front of your neck, almost messing up before he remembered to arch his fingers away from your throat, using only his fingertips to pull you up, your back to his chest.

He slapped your breast, “Come on. Another one, Kitten. Give it to me.”

You threw your head back, leaning on his shoulder, “I queefed,” you mumbled with a half embarrassed expression.

“Yeah, it was hot, now cum again, baby. Let me feel how good I fuck you, mami.”

You hummed, his hand returning to your throat, finding the veins there, pressing just a little. His middle finger found your clit, torturing it as he started feeling his end approach.

“Yoongi…” you whined, placing your hands on his thighs, straightening your arms using them for leverage.

“Grab your tits, babe. Squeeze your nipples,” he ordered.

“Please, fill me up, Yoongi please!” You weren't sure about how loud you were being, it was just too much, too everything.

“Not cumming without you, come on, Kitten. Focus,” he hissed.

You held your breath. You pressed his fingers harder against the sides of your neck.

And a few seconds later, you were gone.

The air left your lungs in a loud squeal, Yoongi starting to pulsate inside you sometime after you started gaining sensitivity again — going hypersensitive even.

“Fuck it, Kitten. So fucking high,” he growled against your ear, fucking up from below, his hand slapping your clit and making you whimper, his other hand leaving your neck and squeezing your breast instead.

He stilled, not after making you beg for him to slow down, the giggling in your voice letting him know you meant it for real.

He stayed sheathed inside as you collapsed against his chest.

“How are your knees, baby?” he asked.

Thankfully, while your chest had been pressed to the tiles, your knees had stayed on the carpet, together with Yoongi's.

“I'm fine,” you whispered.

“You were so good, Kitten.”

You grinned. “No more mami for me?”

He chuckled. “You'll never let me hear the end of it, mh?”

“It was so hot. Kind of unexpected but hot.” You rubbed your hand up and down his thigh, comforting him. “I like it. I wouldn't mind using this when you're feeling subby and whiny.” You tried to check his reaction as you added, “When you wanna be a good boy and bounce on my dick. Or suck it.”

Yoongi was caught off guard. Yes, he liked when you pegged him. Yes, he liked when you took control from him. “Really?”

You hummed in confirmation. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. “If we weren't already married, I would have gone buy the ring right in this moment.” You giggled. It felt amazing on his dick.

“You need aftercare first.” You placed your hand on top of his. It was dirty and messy but you brought it to your lips and kissed it anyway. “But I must have made a good impression if tonight made you wanna wife me again. Despite the queefing,” you said before laughing.

“I read that as a compliment. Must have been hitting it real good,” he mumbled to himself, gloating a little. Actually, a lot. “You're the only one embarrassed by it.”

You chuckled some more. “I gotta go pee. And then we're gonna take a bath and I'll take care of you.” You shifted, ready to move on.

“Thank you, mami,” he purred.

“You wanna get started again?” you said, giving him a side eye.

He just curled his lips before shaking his head.

“Then choose your weapons carefully, babyboy.” You winked at him and then lifted yourself from his lap, Yoongi grabbing you and trying to lick you clean.

“No no, sweetie,” you argued with a smile. “Leave some for tomorrow morning.”

When you were back, Yoongi was curled on the carpet, eyes closed, palms joined, hands tucked between his knees.

“Baby, what are you doing there?” You knelt beside him and kissed his forehead. “Let's have a bath. You need some pampering.”

You filled the tub with hot water, poured in some lavender essential oil. Yoongi seemed less reluctant to join you once the smell reached his nostrils.

He sat himself down in the middle of the tub, forcing you to scoot in behind him. You used a loofah to scrub yourself clean, and then you wrapped your arms around him, letting him lay on you.

“Are you okay, Yoongi?” Your voice was soft, tender.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I neglected you. I forgot about the real world for a little. I felt guilty about not working for two full weeks and I wanted to compensate.” He yawned and made himself more comfortable on your chest. You kissed his head and traced his rib cage with your fingers, shivers coursing through him at how sensitive his skin felt.

“I understand. Sorry I acted so mean instead of confronting you more maturely.”

“You said you wanted me to notice you, and I understand. You think it would have felt less genuine.”

“Yes… But it’s still a lame excuse,” you murmured, criticising your own behaviour.

Yoongi started skimming the side of your leg sweetly, cuddling himself to sleep. “But it’s all settled now. We’ll do better next time.”

You nodded. “Next time.” You sunk your nose into his hair. “Are you falling asleep, baby?”

“Mhm.”

You giggled. “Let’s wash your hair. I’ll dry it for you before bed. Then you can sleep.”

“Thank you, mami.” He grinned, waiting for your reaction.

“Can’t wait to wake you up tomorrow morning,” you teased, your nails grazing against his inner thigh.

He chuckled. “Something spicy?”

“Lemme know what you want in the menu.”

He squeezed your leg eloquently. “I fucking love you.”

You grinned. “I know.”