Stellar Behavior | MYG x You

Part 5

You woke up feeling particularly snuggly, tucked with heavy blankets around you. Normally, that would have made you shake your arms and legs to get free, but this time you didn't feel compelled to. In your daze, you realized it smelled good, and you didn't want to leave that cozy cocoon. But then you figured out that your pillow was an arm, and your hand darted under your dress to your knife.

The blade was to his throat before you could even make out who he was. Then, your gears slowly turned as a few strands of his hair shifted across his forehead to his eyes as he languidly woke up.

Yoongi was naked behind you, with one arm under your head and the pillow, and the other wrapped around your middle. You doubted he felt your blade to his windpipe because his perfect skin didn't have one single wrinkle of worry, not even when he opened his eyes a bit and saw you. Quite the opposite; he stretched without letting go of you as if waking up like that was just another Saturday, and you chuckled.

"I fell asleep," you admitted, more to yourself than him, as you put the knife away. You didn't do that; that was not your thing.

"Good. How do you feel?"

His raspy voice gave you goosebumps, and you turned your face the other way, giving him your back again. You shouldn't feel this safe and relaxed, there was no such thing. But he was a cop, so if not with him, then with who?

You sighed. He was a goody two shoes; of course, he'd ask you about your well-being.

"Better than ever, ready for another one."

He hummed and adjusted his head on his pillow, not coming closer, and you pouted and pretended to stretch so you could fall back into him.

You grinned, "And so are you, it seems."

You rubbed your ass against his crotch shamelessly, smiling as you expected him to push you off and tell you to leave.

But he sighed, "It's okay, it will go away."

Your lips pursed instantly. You didn't want his hard-on to fizzle out, you wanted him hard and crazy to have you. You wanted him to fight the urge to have you and pretend to be all lawful when in reality, he was dying to stick it in a mob boss like you.

You spoke quietly, "I don't want it to."

He didn't move behind you, and you wondered if he had heard you as you hadn't admitted it too loud. When you thought to turn your head to check and show your pout, his arm around you moved. Your protest was on the tip of your tongue, but you held it back because he didn't move away. Instead, his hand landed on your hip softly, resting between the cover and your dress for a moment as if to allow you to slap it away.

You didn't, and he continued slowly. He palmed down your leg where he could reach before returning, feeling your stomach and side almost respectfully. It made you wiggle in his arms, a little restless, but as your head fell back, you felt him. He was right behind you, instantly nuzzling you through your hair, taking you in. It was the most intimate moment you had ever lived — a singular palm on your lower stomach keeping you close, while he breathed in the sweet scent of your hair. You probably still had some concussion-related dizziness, but you doubted it was just that. Your body was melting, captivated by his gentle nature in a way you didn't know could entice you.

But it did because the moment he moved to touch the skin of your neck, you let him. You sighed with the flutters his fingertips left behind and pressed yourself more to him when he reached your collarbones. At that moment, you completely surrendered to his touch, hoping he wouldn't stop. Hoping he would see the barriers you always held up and ignore them, finally reaching you.