BTS SMUT AND FLUFF IMAGINES (REQUESTS OPEN)

Yoongi: Late Night, Great Night- FLUFF

Third Person P.O.V.

The low hum of Yoongi's husky, gravelly voice filled the studio for what felt like the longest time. But not in a bad way. You'd always loved nights like this, being locked away in Bangtan's studio with nothing but the sound of the rough drafts of their songs and your boyfriends wonderful raps. Every part of it, the beginning messiness, the hard work and dedication your boyfriend-- well, all of the boys-- spent, the astounding process of perfecting each song, and the long hours of practice, were all things you found endearing and perfect. You were mesmerized by the way music made your boyfriend full of passion and purpose. It gave him life.

You listened intently to the lyrics, trying to understand them. After being in Korea for about three years, you'd learned a number of translations and other things about the Hangul language as well as some Japanese, so it wasn't too difficult for you to decipher the words. However, sometimes it was a little more difficult to understand Suga because of his quick speaking and daegu accent. It was a wonder you'd known Yoongi for so long, let alone had been with him and been able to understand each other. Luckily, you seemed to get enough teaching from Taehyung, because today you'd been able to understand what Yoongi was saying after listening to him sing the song a few times.

"...that overflows always

Oh girl your smile still remains here

Even if we are apart my feelings are

Still the same, we are always together

Everything is for you~

Everything is alright

Even if there is no answer

Everything is inside your smile..."

You couldn't help the sleepy smile that crossed your features. You always loved to hear Yoongi's voice, no matter what he had to say, and he would be the same way with you. Maybe you weren't a successful boyband Korean rapper like him, but he still loved your voice just as much as he loved making music. Truth be told, he loved everything about you just that much (if not more).

"Was that better, jagi?" he asked half-heartedly, voice still lacking a certain consciousness and diction. After hearing him sing the same verse over and over for about five and a half hours, the different variations of notes and lines Yoongi was singing started to sound the same. You loved how they all sounded, honestly, but you were just so tired that you couldn't even tell if your own thoughts were being kept to yourself. It seemed more like you were tired enough to be accidentally voicing each thought without even processing it first.

"Sweetheart, I honestly can't tell anymore," you confess in a breathless, exasperated tone. "I'm too tired to concentrate and they all sound amazing. Can we please just go home? If I don't lay down soon, I'm gonna pass out."

He sighs in agreement and defeat. "Me too, babycakes, but I really need to finish perfecting these notes before I leave the studio." You muster up enough consciousness to give him your most convincing puppy eyes you can manage in your elated state. All he does is stare at you for a moment, looking at your adorable, weary features, thinking about how gorgeous you are, even when your eyes are bloodshot and you're acting like a drunk teenager, even when you're both so tired and ready to sleep. It's moments like this, he thinks, that are a large reason as to why he loves you. Moments like this, where you are so weak, but you stay up until he wants to sleep because you want to stay by his side every minute that you possibly can. These moments make him feel completely enveloped in warmth, because you remind him of the wonderful little girl he fell in love with so many years ago; you remind him in these moments that you need him, that he's the only one that can take care of you the right way, and love you perfectly, the way he does. "Alright babycakes, tell you what. I'll try two more versions, save them as a recording, and look at them all tomorrow morning." You nod slowly in reply, letting your eyes droop even further than they originally had been. You lean forward in your chair to give him a small peck on the cheek and he ends up pulling you into his lap as he readjusts his headphones and opens a voice recording program. He slowly raps his part of For You a total of three variations, but ends up doing seven recordings because of even smaller differentiations that only he can point out.

"I can't seem to get that last alteration right, but I'm too tired at this point to make it as good as it needs to be," he explains, pulling out his phone to check it. You catch a small glimpse of the lock screen, a picture of the both of you reaching toward the camera, each with one arm outstretched. You smile softly to yourself, remembering the time when Taehyung had stolen Yoongi's phone when the both of you had fallen asleep, heads leaned against each other for support to snap photos. You'd woken up at the same time and were both so infuriated that Taehyung was spying on the two of you in your peaceful moment. Neither you nor Yoongi were really open to the idea of PDA, so just seeing your matching expressions of shock and horror on the screen made you remember your love for your boyfriend, as well as a small feeling of hilarity toward yourself for your slight overreaction. "2:57," he read aloud. "I guess it already is tomorrow," he pointed out sheepishly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"That's alright, Yoongi. I'm sure you'll be able to pick one of the versions in the morning," you reassure him, attempting to climb off his lap, but failing miserably, your knees having given out and you end up sitting on the floor, just looking up at him. "I'm not sure I'll have the strength to walk to the car. And you won't be able to carry me no matter how hard you tried. We both know you're too tired for that." He chuckles softly before pulling you off the ground.

"I may not be able to carry you to the car, but I certainly can carry you to the couch on the other side of the room," he replies, picking you up off the ground and slinging you onto his hip like a baby to softly lay you on the sofa. He leaves, but returns a moment later with a blanket in hand. He drapes it over your form before lifting the corner and climbing in to snuggle close to you, spooning you so he doesn't fall off the small couch. You grab one of his arms from behind your back and pull it over your side to hold his hand while you sleep.

Today was a long day, but honestly, you didn't think it could be any better.