Marvel Or BUST

truthfully, you've always found him extremely attractive—how could you not with how hardworking, successful, polite, and intelligent he is? but having a relationship with him that was anything more than a simple boss and employee friendship was unprofessional and you were not going to get yourself fired over a silly crush.

but now that he's invited you to a business party with him, shown you what he's like in and out of the office, you think maybe it's not so unprofessional, especially with how he keeps his arm around you when other people are near, almost warning them away—away from you—with an emotionless, intimidating stare.

he's been by your side the entire night, probably trying to stay out of the short, awkward business conversations that the rest of the people here are having. akaashi knows it would be beneficial to speak to them, it would help bring more attention to his name and company, but he didn't want to come to this event in the first place, so why should he go out of his way to speak to people?

akaashi debated on having you send a gift card apologizing for his absence, saying he couldn't make it to the function because of personal problems, but then he remembered how he had already ignored the last few invitations he got, meaning he has to make an appearance at this one or the hosts will never leave him alone.

he called you into his office the second he read that he was supposed to bring a plus one, knowing this would be the perfect opportunity of seeing you outside the office without actually facing his fear of asking you on a date. he told you he thought it would only make sense that you accompanied him to the get-together seeing as you have contacted them before; you were always the one who would email the host that akaashi was too busy to attend the party.

and you agreed, of course, no matter how loud your brain was screaming at you to decline his offer, immediately thinking of every possible way you could humiliate yourself in front of all those people, in front of him. it terrified you, the thought of being around so many people who would judge you for every little thing you do as you desperately tried to impress akaashi in hopes he would reciprocate the very unprofessional feelings you have for him.

things only got worse when he told you he would pick you up, saying it would be easier to drive to the event together instead of taking two cars. you accepted gratefully as you felt the weight on your shoulders get heavier: you wouldn't be able to calm yourself down on the way there and overthink every conversation the two of you had on the way home.

akaashi looked perfect, as always—you think he may have even looked better than usual, you don't know. all you know is he made you nervous and you were excited to take the glass of wine the host offered you when you arrived at the party, hoping it would take the nerves off.

"hey, you okay? you look a bit… uneasy," akaashi questions in a low voice, trying not to bring attention to the two of you as he snaps you out of your daydream. you blink a couple of times, eyes scanning your surroundings before you nod.

the party has been going on for almost an hour now and you still haven't finished the glass of wine you were offered when you and akaashi first arrived. you would like to blame it on you wanting to be professional, drinking in front of your boss isn't what you'd call professional, but it's really because you don't want to embarrass yourself in front of akaashi.

"yeah. yeah, i'm good, just a bit nervous. i think i'm going to go out on the balcony for a moment, take a little breather," you reply, looking in the direction of the balcony so akaashi knows where you're going. he mumbles something along the lines of 'i'll be here when you get back' under his breath as you leave him alone in the secluded hallway you two are standing in.

you smile and greet a few people on your way out, lying to those who asked why you're going out onto the balcony by saying you need to make an important business call. you take a deep breath when you feel the cold air touch your skin, looking behind you for a moment to check if anyone could see you before you slouch a little and groan, annoyed at yourself for how worked up you're getting over being at a business party with your boss.

you two are coworkers, nothing more, nothing less, and that's how it should be. workplace romances never end well anyway, there will always be that awkwardness if the relationship doesn't last, or an employee with accusations of favoritism, or the—

"why am i even thinking about this?" you whisper to yourself and bring your hand up to rub your temples, hoping the stress from this business party mixed with your constant overthinking doesn't give you a headache.

you know exactly why you're thinking about this, thinking about akaashi in this way, and the memory of him smiling as he chuckled at one of your horrible jokes flashing in your head is exactly the reason you're thinking about him like this.

he's calm and analytical, always keeping himself composed in times of worry, and you like how mature he is, it makes him a wonderful boss. he's also patient, understanding, and humble, some of the exact traits you look for in a partner. not to mention the times his blunt honesty makes you chuckle, he always says what you want to hear, occasionally adding a witty comment that puts you in a good mood every time he does so. he's the model you want all your future partners to be based on.

and as you remember all the memories of you and akaashi that make your stomach fill with butterflies, you fall so deep into thought that you don't hear when he opens the door and steps out onto the balcony with you, asking in a quiet voice if you're okay as he places a gentle hand on your lower back, causing you to jump and accidentally spill your wine all over his button-up.

"oh my god! i- akaashi, sir, i'm so sorry!" you stutter as you use the sleeves of your dress in an attempt to rub the wine out of his shirt, effectively making it worse as you ramble on about how sorry you are, begging him not to fire you or be angry at you, hoping to the gods above that this didn't ruin any chance you may have had with him.

"don't worry, it's fine, seriously. i shouldn't have been so quiet, this is what i get for scaring you. you really don't have to—" you cut him off with your non-stop blabbering, still rubbing at his chest, getting distracted for a moment by how muscular and hard his chest is, before continuing to beg for forgiveness. akaashi sighs and calls your name, but you're too focused on removing the stain. he says your name again, this time in a stern voice followed by a hand gripping your chin to force you to make eye contact with him.

"stop worrying and listen to me. i'm not mad and i'm not going to fire you or anything, okay? it was a simple mistake and it's not a big deal, i have dozens of these shirts at home, so just," he trails off, distantly hoping you don’t actually think he’s doing to fire you for something like this, and grabs your wrist, removing your hand from his body, "okay?"

and suddenly, your mouth has gone dry and you're unable to respond to him, instead, you continue staring into his eyes, completely entranced by the way he's looking at you. you watch his eyes flicker down to your lips, so fast you almost didn't notice, but you did, and you also saw how he gulped at the sight of your lips parting as a way of inviting him to kiss you.

you almost opened your mouth to tell him, beg him to kiss you, but his lips were on yours before you could say the words he wanted to hear. it took you a second to realize what he was doing, too shocked to believe akaashi was kissing you, but when you were convinced you weren't imagining it, you began to kiss him back.

but it was too late, he had already pulled away and started muttering apologies for how unprofessional that was, how he shouldn't have done that, and how he's so sorry if he made you uncomfortable or interpreted the situation wrong. his mind was screaming at him, telling him how he knows better and he should've asked if you were okay with it first, but now he's gone and fucked everything up—

"please," you whine, voice so silent he almost didn't hear you. you grab his shirt, attempting to pull him back down, "please kiss me again."

akaashi doesn't waste any time, bringing his hands up to cup your jaw as he places his smooth lips on yours once again, this time softer, clearly wanting to take his time with you. his lips move slowly against yours, his touch is light but it leaves you dizzy and breathless. you need more, it's obvious, but akaashi's having fun teasing you like this, listening to your quiet whimpers as you tug at his button-up.

"akaashi, i- i need you, please," you mumble against his lips, not wanting to pull away even when your brain screams for air. thankfully, akaashi pulls away for a moment, giving you some time to catch your breath as he licks his lips and looks around to see if anyone was watching the two of your makeout on the balcony.

he replays your words in his head, the sound of you begging for more causes blood to rush south, his cock hardening in his pants almost instantaneously. akaashi pulls you up against him and kisses you again, this time giving you what you want, what you need.

akaashi couldn't keep himself off of you once he got you in his reach, hands holding your face, sucking on your lips and licking into your mouth eliciting a gasp from you that only made it easier for him to slip his tongue past your lips.

you were whimpering into his mouth, kissing him back with so much desire and pent-up emotion that akaashi had to hold back the little noises that were threatening to escape his own lips.

he was so desperate for you, desperate to taste you and feel you and make you cry out for him. he was so stupid for not making a move sooner, but he didn't have time to dwell on his regrets now—now he needed was to get you somewhere private so he can have his way with you, just like you want.

"can i— fuck, would you be okay with…" he trails off, usually so cool and collected, the right words always coming easy to him, but now that you're here, affecting him in ways he didn't know were possible, he's stumbling over his words like an idiot.

"yes," you reply, somehow knowing exactly what he was trying to ask you. he gives you a slight nod before releasing his grip on your face and stepping away from you. it was clear he wanted to grab your hand and lead you through the sea of people, but akaashi is a well-known man in japan and the last thing he needs is paparazzi on his ass about rumors of him having a girlfriend, he'd rather keep your relationship with him a secret for now.

"follow me," akaashi says, almost demands, and you feel your legs involuntarily rub together at the thought of just how demanding and dominant akaashi could be when you finally get him alone.

the two of you walk through the room with your eyes forward, ignoring the shouts from people questioning the two of you and why you're leaving. the host stops akaashi on the way out, begging him to stay for a little longer so the reporters can interview him, but akaashi quickly makes up a lie to tell the host, followed by an apology and a short second of eye contact with you to silently tell you to start walking to the parking lot.

you move out from behind him and begin walking toward his car, knowing he would be done talking to the host soon. you could barely breathe and you feel like your heart was going to explode with how fast it was beating, you're desperate, so, so desperate for akaashi, the same man you swore to yourself you'd never get involved with in any relationship other than a professional one.

you hear akaashi call your name right before you can grab the car door handle and you turn around to face him and respond, but you feel his lips on yours before you can speak, effectively cutting you off as he pushes you against his expensive car.

the soft touch of his fingertips trailing down your back and to your thighs startles you and akaashi takes that as an opportunity to slide his tongue against your bottom lip and into your mouth.

you were sucking in small breaths through your nose as his tongue brushes against yours, hot and wet as he licks into your mouth. it was too much for you, akaashi could tell, anyone in the vicinity of you two could see the effect he has on you. akaashi is so much different than anyone else you've been with. he doesn't kiss you like he's in a hurry to get you home and undressed, instead it's like he has all the time in the world, smoothly and slowly and just the way you like it.

your hands move on their own until they're on his chest, sliding to rest on his shoulders, taking in the way his muscles tense under your touch. he pulls you closer, jerking you flush against him, as you kiss him harder, letting your nervousness slip away.

you let your tongue move into his mouth the same way he did just a few seconds ago. you can feel his fingers grip your hip tighter as his movement stutters momentarily before he kisses you back with the same energy—still slow and sensual, but now with the purpose of getting each other to open up.

his fingers stop at the bottom of your dress, tracing the bottom of it hesitantly as he pulls away from you again to rest his forehead against yours, allowing the both of you to catch your breath. akaashi keeps his eyes closed as he sighs and speaks up, "if you don't want this, you gotta tell me right now."

"no, please! please, i need it— you, i need you," you stutter and reach your hand down to grab his and lead it to the spot you need his touch most, but he stops you before you can, grabbing your wrist with one hand while the other moves to open the door for you.

you sit down and watch as he closes your door and walks around the car to get in on the driver's side, immediately leaning back over to reattach his lips to yours, his hand going straight to the bottom of your dress again, ever so slowly making its way up the lace panties you're wearing.

the whine you let out when his fingertips finally reach your cunt makes akaashi smile as he kisses you, taking your bottom lip in his teeth, nipping at it and tugging slightly, eliciting a breathy moan from you in an attempt to get him to take your mouth in his again.

"akaashi, please," you beg as you hear him start the car, hoping he won't take his hand away like he did last time, but instead you just feel his finger dip under your panties and swirl over your clit, making your legs snap closed.

"keep 'em open, i'm not gonna tell you twice," akaashi demands as he kisses down your neck, fingers running over your sensitive hole. his free hand opens your legs again and he presses his middle finger into you, holding back the groan that bubbles in his throat at how tight you are. akaashi can feel your cut stretch around his digit, clenching and pulsing against him.

your mouth falls open in a silent moan at the feeling of him finally being inside you, it may not be exactly what you want, but it was something—but you still needed more. you grab his bicep and dig your nails into his arm as his finger curls inside you with careful precision, "'kaashi, please, more! more, i need mo—"

"keiji… call me keiji," he mumbled against your skin and you're pretty sure you heard him say 'please' at the end, but with the way his finger is repeatedly hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back, you can't really tell what's going on.

"keiji, more, give me another one, please," you moan and he mutters something against your neck before pulling away and focusing his attention on the road in front of him, finger still curling inside you, eliciting pretty whines and whimpers from your mouth.

"be patient," akaashi tells you as he begins driving, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road. your heart races, wondering if he's really going to finger you while driving. you never thought akaashi would be this reckless, but you also didn't think you'd like it this much—the thought that someone might see you, akaashi's fingers deep inside your cunt.

"we'll be back at my place soon, think you can wait until then?" he asks teasingly as he quickly adds another finger, groaning quietly, the warmth and wetness of your pussy nearly making him dizzy and he hasn't even got his cock in you yet.

you nod, panting heavily as your hips thrust involuntarily against his palm. akaashi lets you grind into his hands, helping you chase your release by curling his fingers up again, feeling you clench around him as he begins a much slower pace, making you whine, annoyed at his actions.

the rest of the drive consists of akaashi bringing you right to the edge with just simple twists and curls of his fingers before pulling them away, making you cry out in frustration as your release is stolen away from you once again. you would beg him to make you cum, telling him you've done nothing wrong, you've been good, so why is he denying you of your release like this?

and truthfully, akaashi has no reason to deny you. you're right, you have been good, but he loves the way you've fallen into this headspace of being so dependent on him, whining and crying for him so prettily when he doesn't give you what you want, what you deserve. he can't help but steal your release away from you just to hear you cry about it.

so by the time you finally get to his apartment, your legs are weak and unsteady, cunt throbbing with the need to cum—you're desperate, more desperate than you've ever been, all because of a few touches from your boss.

"come on," akaashi demands, voice harsh as he opens the car door, sticking his hand out for you to grab. he gets impatient when you take a few seconds longer than he wants you to, wishing he could just pick you up and throw you over his shoulder so he could bring you to his room and have his way with you as soon as possible, but he knows how busy his apartment complex is and he really isn't in the mood to have people stare at him from his actions.

the two of you walk hand in hand through the lobby—ignoring the look the doorman gives akaashi at the sight of him bringing a girl home, a sight the doorman has never seen in all his years of working here—and into the elevator.

as soon as the steel doors close you feel akaashi's lips on yours, kissing you intensely as he pins you against the wall of the elevator, one hand running over your body as the other trails up your thigh and under your dress again.

his lustful touches only last so long before a couple joins them in the elevator, causing akaashi to step away from you quickly, leaving you breathing heavily behind him as he shields you from the gaze of the two people next to you.

akaashi slides his arm around you, pulling you close to him so he can whisper in your ear just how much he wishes he could touch you, saying things you never thought you'd hear come out of his mouth; everything about him felt like a dream.

"if they weren't here i'd have you cumming all over my fingers by now," he says lowly and you squeeze his arm, trying to keep your composure as you silently warn him to keep his voice down. he smirks at your reaction, "just you wait 'til i get you alone."

and after what seems like forever, the doors finally open on akaashi's floor, allowing the two of you to step out of the presence of the couple and walk toward his apartment.

he's already got you pinned up against his door before you can even register him unlocking it, your head still spinning from the events in the car and elevator. you can feel him everywhere; his eager touch is hot on your soft skin, you just wish he would give you a moment to breathe so you could process everything he's making you feel.

his soft lips move from yours down to your neck, sucking, licking, and marking you all over, almost as if he was claiming you as his. you pant, even with him giving you the chance to breathe, it was still all too much for you to handle. you call his name and he hums but doesn't let up on his movements, "akaa— keiji, wait, please."

he releases his hold on you with a concerned look on his face, watching as you throw your arm over your eyes, hiding from the embarrassment of him seeing you so flustered: hair messy, dress wrinkled, face red as you breathe heavily like there's not enough air in the room. akaashi reaches out to grab your free hand, helping you steady yourself against the door. "wh-what happened, are you okay? did i do something wrong?" he asks, the thoughts in his head now racing a mile a minute as he tries to think of ways to fix whatever he's done.

"no, no, i just… need a second… you're too much, i can't," you trail off and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment before removing your arm and opening them, now faced with akaashi who's closer to your body than you thought he was. he's smirking, holding back a chuckle now that he knows what the problem is; you can't handle him, and it makes him wonder what you'll be like when he's got you undressed below him as he makes you feel oh-so-good like he's wanted to for months now.

"but, doll, we've barely even started," he teases and you feel your face heat up even more, looking down at the ground in an attempt to hide the effect he has on you from him. akaashi steps toward you, putting a finger underneath your chin to make you meet his eyes, they're darker than usual and filled with lust, the sight makes your legs push together and a whine comes from your throat.

his slim fingers move to the zipper on the back of your dress, ever so slowly sliding it down just enough for it to slip off your shoulders, revealing the lace bra you're wearing that looks beautiful on your skin. akaashi's eyes trail over the tops of your breasts as he speaks, "how about you come with me to my room so i can take care of you, make you cum like you've been dying to all night. how does that sound, my love? sound good, or do you think that'll be too much for you?"

he makes eye contact with you again as he hums questioningly, fingers now trailing up and down your sides as if he's trying to calm you down and work you up at the same time—and it's working. you lick your lips and nod your head, mouth seemingly dry from the shock of him being so dominant, you knew he would be but you never thought he would act like this. he shakes his head and makes a tch sound, the nod you gave him wasn't enough; "need to hear you say it."

"please, keiji, yes, yes," you beg, hands fisting his stained dress shirt as you yank him toward you. your pleads for him are all he needs to hear before he pushes his lips back onto yours and bends down to pick you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as you let out a small squeal, allowing him to carry you into his bedroom.

akaashi gently places you down on the mattress, moving away from your lips to place wet kisses down your jaw and throat, stopping when he gets to your chest, looking up at you as a way of asking if you were still okay with what he's doing. you mumble a 'yes' and he continues, bringing his hands from your hips to the top of your dress to pull it down.

when he finally gets your dress off he sits up a bit to get a good look at you, completely exposed to him other than the lace bra and panties that don't cover much. you squirm under his gaze and his lips curl up into a slight smile as he leans back down to continue kissing your chest, one hand reaching behind you to unclasp your bra as the other works to unbutton his shirt.

"fuck, doll, you're so beautiful," akaashi says against your skin, sliding the lace off your chest as his shirt drops and joins your clothing on the ground, not giving you any time to admire his well-built physique as he falls to his knees to attach his mouth to your cunt.

"no— keiji, please, i need you now, i can't wait any longer," you whimper, hands reaching down to tangle into his soft hair in an attempt to pull him up to you.

he holds back the teasing remark that threatened to escape his mouth, instead deciding to chuckle as he stands up, hovering over you to bring his lips to yours. you gasp when you feel two fingers run through your folds, collecting your slick, and he takes that as a chance to lick into your mouth, kissing you deeper, effectively swallowing your faint moans.

akaashi pulls away and looks at his fingers, muttering something about how wet you are before shoving them into his mouth, making you go wide-eyed at the sight. he hums at the taste, savoring it as he reminds himself that he'll have to taste you properly next time. that's when he realizes he's already thinking about a next time, and he hopes to the gods above that this isn't just a one-time thing, but he doesn't let his mind ponder on the thought for too long before he's leaning over you and placing a hand around your neck, squeezing the sides lightly as he says, "open your mouth."

you do as he tells you and you part your lips just enough for your tongue to stick out. you almost want to close your eyes from the shame of doing what he says so easily, but the sight of akaashi letting spit drip off his tongue and into your mouth is too good to look away. if his hand wasn't around your throat, cutting off your ability to make any sound, you would have moaned at the simple feeling of his spit inside your mouth. it was almost pathetic how he could affect you so effortlessly.

"swallow," he demands and you immediately comply, closing your mouth and swallowing all that he had to offer. akaashi removes his hand from your neck and pats your cheek lovingly, "good girl, such a good fuckin' girl. been so good, so obedient. 'm gonna give you what you want now, yeah?"

"please, need you so bad," you mewl, watching as he quickly moves to take off his pants, letting them drop to the floor without another thought. he adjusts your position on the bed and kneels above you, swiftly stripping you of your panties until they hang off one of your ankles as he moves your legs to wrap around him.

he rubs his cock against your cunt, letting your slick cover it as he grinds his hips into yours, making you moan out for him as he pushes inside you. akaashi swears under his breath, hips stuttering for a moment as he tells you how good you feel around him.

both of your bodies tremble at the feeling of his thick cock finally inside you. you grab his forearm and dig your nails into it, silently telling him to wait and let you adjust to the intrusion for a second before he starts moving. akaashi wasn't paying attention though, he was too busy pressing his fingers into your hips as his face dropped down into the crook of your neck—the way you were so wet and warm and tight around him was overwhelming, and it was taking everything in him to stop himself from cumming too soon.

your hips jerk up involuntarily, pulling a moan from the both of you, and you can't help but grind up against his hips in a desperate attempt for more stimulation. you gasp as your movements make his cock hits the spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back, "fuck, keiji, you're so big. please, please, i need you to move."

akaashi groans as he slowly pulls out, lifting his head from your neck to watch as your cunt stretches around his cock, clenching every few seconds at the way he's making you feel. he's barely been inside you for a minute now and he already feels dizzy. he takes his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a deep breath at the sight of how nicely you're slicking his cock, making it easy for him to slide back in again and again.

he found a steady pace quickly, opting for slow and deep thrusts instead of short and quick ones, knowing that he wants to take his time with you in case this was the last time he'd get to see you in this light.

you squirm at a particularly deep thrust, clenching around him tightly, wishing you could tell him how deep he is, how good he feels, but unable to let anything other than loud moans from your throat. you can't stop your cries from escaping, even when you've bitten down on your lip in an attempt to quiet them, he just feels too good, it's almost dumbfounding.

you didn't notice how his gaze had shifted from where you two meet to your face, watching as your eyebrows furrow in pleasure. his voice is low as he speaks, "you look so perfect under me." your face heats up and you turn away from him, trying to get away from his eyes, "oh come on, don't go shy on me now, my love."

he smirks at your reaction, squealing when you feel his left-hand move from your hip to your chest, squeezing your breast softly as he uses his thumb and index finger to tweak and pinch at the nipple. your body jerks upwards at his touch, making his cock continuously bump against your cervix as he thrusts harder and deeper into your cunt, sending sharp sensations of pleasure and pain that hurt so fucking good through your body.

you gasp, "fuck— keiji, i'm, fuck." you try to speak, try to warn him that you're close, try to beg him not to stop, but you can't, not when his cock feels this good inside you. his hand moves from your breast to the base of your neck, squeezing slightly for a moment or two, just hard and long enough for you to feel a little lightheaded, pushing you even closer to the edge.

"kei- keiji, i'm gonna cum!" you choke before you feel his lips on yours, kissing you passionately, only pulling away to groan as you clench down on him tightly.

"shit, please cum for me, doll, wanna feel you cum around my cock," akaashi mumbles, voice soft and higher-pitched than usual, telling you that he's just as close as you are. and with one deep grind of his hips, you come undone, nails digging into his back as your orgasm washes over you, body shaking and squirming underneath him.

"so good, so good for me, such a good girl," he babbles, unable to control his moans with the way you're squeezing him so harshly. you can tell by how sloppy his thrusts have become that he was going to cum soon, especially with the way you were begging him to cum inside you. a short moment of panic comes over him before he remembers that you're responsible enough to only say that if you knew there was no chance of getting pregnant.

he grunts as he pushes himself to the hilt, cumming deep inside of you. akaashi hides his face in your neck, effectively quieting his pretty moans that you wish you could hear clearly, but you have a feeling this would happen again so you don't dwell on the thought too much, too busy whining as the overwhelming feeling of overstimulation as akaashi thrusts softly, milking himself for all he's worth, painting your walls with his cum.

you think you might be able to feel his release in your stomach from how much there was, and it sends a feeling of warmth spreading through your body, knowing you've finally got him after months of pining over him.

after a couple of moments of soothing touches against your skin and kisses on your neck and chest, akaashi moves to pull out and head to get a warm cloth to clean you up, only for you to tighten your hold on him and plead for him not to move.

akaashi listens to you whine for him to stay and he sighs, "i gotta clean you up, love."

"later, please… jus' want you here with me right now," you tell him, the grip you have on him not letting up until he mumbles an 'okay' and lies back down next to you, getting comfortable as his cock softens inside you.

you hum in satisfaction, cuddling up against him with nothing other than the thought of being here with him right now in your head. you know you'll wake up tomorrow with akaashi next to you, already awake and thinking of the right words to say as he confesses the feelings he's had for you since you accepted his job offer as a secretary. and the promise of having him all to yourself is enough to make you smile as you fall asleep in his arms, already excited for the morning to come.

Yoongi relishes in being difficult.

He’s difficult in the way that he’s stubborn for whatever it is, no matter how low he could stoop. It’s definitely a working progress, but your boyfriend just stillhasn’t shaken the urge to always have the last say.

It wasn’t a deep control thing, honestly — Yoongi just really loves pushing your buttons. 

If Yoongi could find a route to piss you off, he’d take a million little detours in the process just for you to take the cake by the end of it. When you present to him a simple yes or no question, he’d find a way to shift the topic altogether for your conversation to go absolutely nowhere.

He’s annoying, there’s really no doubt about it. It was a learning curve at first because seeing your then-boyfriend (now your husband) become snarky at you for surprisingly no reason at all wasn’t exactly the best feeling. All it took was a simple call to Jin, Yoongi’s closest friend, to make you realize that he was just being playful. Your boyfriend being a brat to you, simply put into words, is his love language.

It’s the tiny accumulative moments where he purposely irritates you that in hindsight, it’s become oddly endearing. 

When you pick where to order take-out because Yoongi keeps saying whatever, he whines to no end once the food arrives because apparently, it’s not what he had in mind. You used to be so pissed about it that you’ll order what he wants, but nowadays, you just tell him to suck it up and put more food on his plate.

When you do all the laundry in one go (no, the colors don’t bleed together) and Yoongi insists that you do separate batches for each color that he could enumerate, you would try and appease him by pretending to separate each one. Now, all that Yoongi gets is a high-pitched sarcastic compliment for knowing all his colors.

Whatever Yoongi purposely gave you to incite a reaction, it all melted into your understanding that this was just him. You’re no longer affected by the tiny little things because weirdly enough, they no longer serve its purpose of annoying you. 

It’s just like taking care of Ginger, the spoiled little family cat you grew to take care of back in your childhood home. When she was still a kitten, she’d purposely go up your shelves, look at you in the eye before dropping an item, and you’re leaping after the orange devil to reprimand her. When she became an adult, she still had the same annoying tendencies, and yet you evolved enough not to even bat an eye when she does it now.

Yoongi being annoying to you now isn’t the same thing of him being annoying to you back then. What you used to hate, you now tolerate. What used to piss you off, now makes you endeared. When your husband pushes your buttons now, you’re reminded of how much more mischievous he used to be and the memories that came with it.

This is now your peak — there’s really nothing Yoongi could do that make you fazed anymore.

In a great bout of karma, this is Yoongi’s trough. 

You barely give him an adverse reaction nowadays and that scares him right to his core because you used to be soenthusiastic over him. There’d be days where he picks fights intentionally and you’d spend the whole night trying to make it up to him, even if he necessarily wasn’t in the right.

Yoongi thinks that he’s witnessing himself being old news right in front of you and it scares him. 

You’re more well-versed when it comes to this. You’re the more attentive, more vocal lover between the two of you. You’re the one who can read minds and interpret actions. You’re the one who tends to be more confrontational and he’s the passive one. You’re the one who makes sure that a night wouldn’t pass without the two of you making up.

Yoongi, who thought this was the best thing he’s ever thought of until twenty minutes ago, decides to rekindle your romance by picking a fight with you.

Twenty minutes later, he’s never regretted a decision more in his life.

“I’m going out.” 

He announces as the last resort, head pounding because the fight became bigger than necessary. It’s 9 in the evening and he isn’t even dressed to be going out, his matching pajamas with you too soft and too worn to be even seen wearing while driving in the comfort of his own car.

Yoongi feels tears pricking in his eyes because clearly you laid onto him just as much as he made digs at you tonight, but what’s even more hurtful is that looking at you now, you don’t even look as startled as he is.

Maybe it’s just his mind. His silly, smooth, little mind that thinks the fight was bigger than it actually was. It was just a tiny argument about him baselessly accusing you of not putting in any effort that went off-topic for a brief second. In reality, it really was just a casual fight that most married couples have on a rare weekend but to Yoongi, it was explosive.

It was far more hurtful than he anticipated because in his eyes now, you don’t love him that much anymore.

“Okay. Go ahead,” you mumble for him to hear, putting away leftovers like any other night. You meticulously wrap the plates with cling wrap, your back turned to him when you mutter. “I hope the door hits your ass on the way out.”

“O-oh?” Yoongi backtracks when he hears your go-ahead, literally shell-shocked to see that you’re not stopping him. He wipes away his tears before you turn your neutral gaze back to him, swallowing the lump on his throat. “I’m going now. To get some air.”

“Okay, Yoongi.”

He’s done this before. There’s been fights where you tell him not to walk out on you and he complies. There’s also been fights where he walks out anyways, but you’d always tell him I love you and not to stay out too late.

He’s attempting the second option because clearly, you’re not pleading for him to talk this out and later on could the two of you get some air together.

“I’m really, really going now.”

He looks at you with shaky eyes, clearly pleading for you to indulge him by making him stay. 

You see right through him. You see right through your husband and in any other day would you just laugh this off, but tonight isn’t working for you. You were tired from work, Yoongi picked a fight with you for no reason, and you neither have the energy to tolerate nor chase him.

Every now and then, you should stop coddling Yoongi and give him exactly what he claims to want.

“Okay. Bye.”

You leave no room for any more replies, sauntering over the stairs without looking back.

Yoongi doesn’t want to look like a coward for not following through what he said so he audibly opens the door with the creak being heard all the way up the stairs. He’s not even a fourth out of the door but his bottom lip already blubbers, legs trembling from another type of chill that his pajamas can’t protect him from.

Shouldn’t this be the part where you tell him not to stay out too late?

( ♡ )

It’s 9:30 on a Saturday, Yoongi’s at a friend’s club wearing his sleeping pajamas on, drinking Pocari Sweat because crying on the way here really dehydrated him.

Yoongi is not doing well.

Jin’s originally here to survey his club at a peak night, but that plan went downhill as soon as Yoongi spotted him and immediately clung to his back asking for electrolyte water.

“Call Y/N using my phone.”

Yoongi mumbles when the two of them are settled at a secluded booth, all the noise being significantly decreased but not enough for it to be unrecognizable that he’s at a club through a phone call.

“And why exactly would I do that?” Jin snorts, already having an inkling to know where this is going from having a quick run-down from your husband himself.

He’s just about to lecture him with the words he’s always been wanting to say; something along the words that Yoongi’s bratty tendencies were eventually gonna bite him in the ass hard.

Seokjin doesn’t get to do that though because a phone is thrust to his face that it almost punches him, making him faux spit into nothing and wave off his bodyguards standing at a distance from him.

“Quick. She’s probably worried sick about me!” Yoongi convinces Jin, or atleast tries to because he’s the one that needs it. You’re probably wondering where he is, right? There may be no texts in his inbox, but who’s to say that you’re telepathically texting him to ask what time he’s coming home… right?

“No she’s not,” he sing-songs. He plans to annoy his friend for about 98% the time he’s going to be here (he’s gonna send him home to you anyway before 10:30) and the other 2% for semi-sincere consoling.

Then an idea pops into Jin’s head.

“What should I say?” he suddenly and eagerly takes up Yoongi on his request, not waiting for an answer before the perfect scenario pops in his head. “Ah wait, let me be in charge of that.”

Jin’s already pressing to call you much faster to Yoongi’s expectations because he really thought that it would take more amounts of convincing to do this. The phone’s put on speaker and as soon as it rings, Yoongi feels the urge to duck. He’s steadily about to snatch his phone back but you answer your phone even faster than he could do that.

“Hi Y/N!” Seokjin beams and it makes you smile from the other end, a clue already being filled in your head where exactly your husband went to. “Whatcha doing?” 

Jin makes conversation with you on Yoongi’s phone, sleazily smiling as he takes it off of speaker as soon as his friend hears your voice. Yoongi clearly takes an outrage with that but he contains it when Jin fully extends his arm out, holding him back by the face.

“Ugh, did you make popcorn? No way, not one burnt kernel? I knew it-!” Jin yelps when Yoongi bites his palm, quickly standing up from his seat in the booth so Yoongi couldn’t catch up with him. “I told you- I told you that brand’s way better!” 

“She’s not asking why you’re using my phone?” Yoongi whisper-yells as he circles around Seokjin, hands anxiously attempting to grab his phone back. “She’s not asking about me?”

Jin hears him loud and clear but he pretends not to, only sparing a glance. “Did you use the microwave preset? Personally I recommend only popping it in for two minutes and fifteen seconds because- motherfucker!”

Yoongi pinches him by the nape quite harshly like how you’d do with a kitten and it makes Jin freeze for a brief second, stealing his phone back with the call on-going.

“Y/N!” he almost yells to the phone, the momentary silence making it sink to him that he’s finally talking to you after so long. 

Read: it has only been forty minutes.

“What?” you groan into the phone, pushing your voice to be further disinterested. You’re no longer mad at him anymore — you’re just having some bit of fun at this point.

“I-I...” the words dissolve quickly on his tongue, the taste being bitter once again even when he was certain that the Pocari washed it out earlier. Yoongi says the next best thing he could that first pops up into his head, the random blurting of words being amusing even for Jin’s bodyguards.

“I uhm, I have a splinter.”

“Then take it out.”

“It hurts,” he whines at another attempt, screwing his eyes shut at the secondhand embarrassment because from the corner of his eye, one of the three bodyguards is actually clutching at his stomach from laughing. 

“Have Jin do it for you then.”

“Jin and I are in the club, by the way!” he reminds you, perking up slightly now that you indirectly acknowledged where he is and who he’s with.

“Mhmm.”

Just one last pathetic attempt of skirting around and if it doesn’t work, Yoongi will immediately come home to you.

“Is the popcorn good?” 

Read: it doesn’t work.

Jin steals his phone back before he could even hear your response to his dumb-witted question, getting a painful run-down from his friend instead. “You’re painful to watch, y’know that?”

He sighs disappointedly at Yoongi, rolling his eyes before pressing the phone to his ear. “So? What’s it taste like? It’s not really oily, I told you already. The cheese doesn’t smell obnoxious either. Because actually — exactly! It doesn’t stain your fingers!”

Yoongi… will lose it. But before he loses it completely, he gathers all his remaining sanity to continue your tradition while Jin keeps you preoccupied. He spots two things quickly and puts it into his arms with no semblance of shame, even if Jin’s bodyguards saw him technically shoplifting. Yoongi thinks it doesn’t count as such because Jin already knows about the tradition between the two of you, and as predicted, his friend just waves him off in acknowledgement.

It’s a tiny tradition.

Whenever one of you goes somewhere without the other, it’s a rule to bring back a souvenir. There’s no specifications to it, just whatever item you could bring back as proof that you thought about the other while you were out.

Some of the souvenirs you brought home to Yoongi: a pretty rock, a duvet cover, a liter of hand sanitizer, a designer card wallet, and a scrunchie with his name embroidered on it.

Some of the souvenirs Yoongi brought home to you: a fancy teaspoon, a hotel pillow, ten perfume testers at the same time, a remote holder, and a teddy bear with his voice as its squeezable heart.

Yoongi thinks that he doesn’t have shoplifting tendencies but in hindsight of some of the souvenirs he’s gotten you, there may be a pattern to it.

“You brought home... a shot glass.”

You look at the tiny glass, the remnants of electrolyte water still swishing around it.

“Wrong,” he sternly replies, bringing an item from behind his back that couldn’t be anymore obvious even if he tried. “I brought home a shot glass and a tiny potted plant.”

“Since when did bars have potted plants?” you mutter in disbelief, taking the miniature bonsai from him and looking at it in wonder.

“Since tonight! Jin’s, I don’t know, entrepreneurial like that. I wanted to show it to you so I brought it home.”

Your husband says it’s like the most obvious thing to do; his desire for you to know that he indeed thought about you while he was gone manifesting into bringing home one shot glass, and one tiny bonsai to prove it.

“You stole it, Yoongs.”

The amusement lilts in your voice and Yoongi catches on to it, but he just can’t seem to let it go, a little upset that you’re focused on him “stealing” it instead of the fact that he’d go through whatever lengths for you.

“Again, I brought it home because I wanted you to see it!”

“You could’ve just sent me a picture,” you giggle, setting down the pot on your side table. You peel back the covers you momentarily left, patting the spot beside you and Yoongi clearly could not have went to bed any more eager than this.

“How was I supposed to know?” he mumbles in defeat, a frown on his face. “You probably would’ve iced me out.”

“You didn’t even ask me what time I’d get home.” 

Yoongi sighs and even if the moment’s already been significantly lightened with the souvenirs, it brings you a greater relief now that your husband’s choosing to say what’s exactly bothering him instead of pissing you off.

“You didn’t even chase me through the door! I didn’t even want to go!” he’s almost one step into a tantrum and you have to hold him by the arm to not get too carried away by reminiscing, rolling your eyes when you hold him closer.

“You went out because you thought I’d chase you.”

“Exactly,” he affirms, albeit a little upset now that he’s confirmed you knew all along. “Can’t you just chase after me?” Yoongi asks innocently, soft eyes staring you down.

The moment’s too tender that it makes your shoulders hunch, hand automatically moving to the side of his face to guide him into nuzzling into the crook of your neck — a move he looks forward to especially after tonight.

“I’m not always gonna chase after you, Yoongi,” you confide, lips brushing on his temple. “You’re just so damn stubborn sometimes. Like, makes-my-jaw-clench type of stubborn.”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi sincerely apologizes, his face still buried to your neck with his arms clinging around your middle. “I guess I’m just so used to you making amends with me that it makes me act out on purpose.”

Yoongi faults himself at the end of the night this time, without your prompting, and you can’t deny that it makes your heart full.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

He lifts his head up to look at you directly, lips puffed into a pout with his eyes in slow blinks. “Yoongi’s very sorry.”

Maybe you spoke too soon. Maybe Yoongi’s just always gonna be slightly annoying.

“Did you just talk about yourself in third-person?” you mumble, eyes suddenly snapping open when it sinks into you.

“Isn’t it cuter that way? Is it working?” your husband heartily laughs, stretching his arms out to put around you and invade your personal space even more. “Why, do you feel it working?”

“I don’t know what to feel about it, that’s for sure,” you chuckle, the atmosphere completely lightened at this point.

“I promise I’ll try not to be difficult anymore. Won’t piss you off either.”

“That doesn’t happen overnight, Yoonie.” 

Yoongi’s just… mischievous. His love language was to pull stuff with you and although it keeps you on your toes more often than necessary, you wouldn’t be tired of him.

“Tell you what, promise me this instead,” you turn right when Yoongi was about to do it himself so he could bury his face to the crook of your neck again, blinking owlishly to listen at what you have to say.

“Try to chase after me too. Let me be the difficult one sometimes.” 

Yoongi smiles, the switch being more than intriguing. “M’kay. That’s not as hard to promise doing.”

The concept of it makes him happy too much that it lingers there, reverting back to calling you his term of endearment for you and that’s when you know that there’s nothing left unresolved between the two of you now.

“I like that, bear. You should try picking fights with me too. It’s fun sometimes, trust me!”

“I can tell,” you hum, blindly reaching out your arm to turn off the nightlight at your side.

“Yoongi likes that.”

“Stop talking about yourself in third person.”

“I think it’s already growing on me,” Yoongi admits, tilting his head and knowing for a fact that it would take more than fifteen minutes to sleep tonight while in thought.

“Is it gonna stick?” 

The groan leaves you automatically and by the lack of response, you already know your answer.

“Bear,” you hum. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna pick a fight with you tomorrow, alright?”

“M’kay! Remind me tomorrow what time you’re gonna start pissing me off, yeah?” he grins from ear to ear, not requiring a nightlight to see that your husband looks at you so fondly.