BTS Oneshots 1

Kiss or get killed -MYG

Pairing: Yandere!Min Yoongi x Gender neutral reader

Summary: You finally give in to your and Yoongi's desires.

Warnings: Smut, yandere themes, Stockholm syndrome.

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"Aww, look at our marriage certificate" Yoongi cooed as you stood near him, his arm around your waist.

"You're officially mine now, you-who-stole-my-first-kiss" he said, pecking your cheek.

"Isn't that cute?" he asked with a gummy smile, and with an expressionless face like always, you nodded.

Your life is now more like the 2018 movie Tau. You were kidnapped over eleven months ago.

The only thing is, Yoongi was crazily in love with you from the very first time he laid his eyes on you as you walked inside the coffee bar.

Just like in the movie, you live in a mansion, no one else but you and him, artificial intelligence, autodoc like in Chris Pratt's Passengers.

Neither of you had the need to leave to the outside world when anything was wanted.

Still, if one of you wished to take a walk outside maybe, you both would always step out together.

It was more madness outside. You preferred staying inside the house all the time.

Yoongi never had anyone to look after him, and you know how it feels, like you just want to rip off all of your skin and just bleed.

You both found better freedom and safety in this madness. The freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.

You didn't want to live with him at the beginning. But it was a swim-or-sink situation. You either had to let him kiss you, or get killed by him.

You chose the former. Yoongi was often sweet, caring, and innocent before switching into someone who, at times, displayed an extreme, violent and psychotic, level of devotion to you.

He loves you. He loves you more than he ever found a way to say it to you.

You felt kisses linger over your collarbone, like when your now-husband took your first kiss, knowing where this was leading to.

Yoongi's hand caressed your side that made you close your eyes tightly, feeling the open-mouthed kisses on your nape as he made you lean against the edge of the couch.

You hated it. Hated how you always loved his touch, like galaxies colliding.

He thoroughly taught you that one cannot take pleasure without giving pleasure, and that every gesture, every caress, every touch, every glance, every last bit of your bodies has its secrets, which brings happiness to the other who knows how to wake it.

Yoongi taught you that after a celebration of love, the lovers should not part without admiring each other, without being conquered or having conquered, so that neither is bleak or glutted or has the bad feeling of being used or misused.

There was once when you had a fever and he kissed you. You were hot. Like, literally.

Your husband felt like he put his lips against a hot frying pan. And then he noticed your chapped lips.

It's not as if he's never friendly.

Okay, he doesn't go around loving everybody he meets, his smiles are hard to come by, but he does care for you.

And right now, you don't have a fever.

Yoongi laid you on the huge couch in the living room, as he climbed on top of you, hand slipping under his shirt that you were wearing, because he wanted it.

His palms slid down your curves, grabbing your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist as you moaned softly.

Tongue working past your lips as to plunge into your mouth, his infamous self-control removing the t-shirt he was wearing.

You nipped on your lower lip as your fingers traced the thin wire-like veins on his biceps, nails digging into his skin as he sucked on your neck, getting turned on by his tongue technology, almost bringing you to Hong Kong.

Just Yoongi's tongue can make you come in seconds.

When his hands unbuttoned your shirt slowly, you held back a breath. Not out of fear, but excitement.

And within a minute, he was lying on top of you, naked too, pursuing pleasure with such breathless haste that you both hurry past it.

Your husband's eyes were open, watching your flushed skin and heavy breathing as you felt him inside you, giving you both pleasure to the point of insanity.

Feeling high, because he wants himself and you to know that higher level, that godlike level, touch the heavens, feel glory and euphoria. But the trick is, it takes work.

And that work's what Yoongi is doing right now.

Hips moving against yours as it was moan-day and you looked forward for your weak-end, with you screaming his name.

He stopped for a moment, leaning against your ear.

"Say my name again" he said in his husky yet deep voice. "Like you did just now. Like I'm the only one in this world who loves you and whom you love," he said, starting to thrust into you again, getting his name out of your mouth the way he wanted.

And then it was over, sure to leave you sore for days.

Almost sleepily, you kept panting while Yoongi dropped beside you on the couch, pulling you into his arms, just as sleepy as you are.

"Yoongi," you called and he hummed lazily, heavy eyelids starting to drop. "I love you too," you confessed what was going on in your mind for weeks.

Your husband's eyes snapped open, as he stared at your eyes that were closed with you just falling asleep after your revelation.

And he was going to keep staring at you until you were awake, waiting for you to say those words to him once again, now that you both are completely each other's.

Forever can never be long enough for you and Yoongi to feel that you've had long enough with each other.