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Question 60: AOFS

Question: Yoongi, you're secretly so soft for her!

"Ew, no I'm not," Yoongi grumbles, longing to tear his nails through the sleek leather of the chair he sits upon. The only things holding him back are 1. The very human store manager, and 2. The very human girl who would probably tear him to shreds once the aforementioned store manager made a fuss about it. "I would like to argue that 'soft' is the complete opposite of what I am."

At that moment, the velvet curtain to the occupied dressing room flings open, and out steps his favourite blood bag. But it is no lacy, blush-coloured lingerie that she wears, nor a sheer babydoll with thread-like straps in the shade of her blood. No, she is covered from her collarbones, to her wrists, to her ankles in a silky, onyx pyjama set with pearly piping on the cuffs and collar. The pants are a tad too long; gathering in little folds at her feet so that only her innocent, wriggling toes peek out.

Yoongi swallows down the second-coming of his death. The inflicter? His most delicious meal of all.

"Yoongi," she starts, very serious, gaze intent and searing straight through his arctic heart. "I think I'm the most comfortable I've ever been in my entire life, and you might have to kill me if you ever want to separate me from this pyjama set. I'm... I'm never taking it off."

Yoongi, attempting to project indifference and failing miserably, raises both his eyebrow and the corner of his mouth. He is already imagining her shuffling around the apartment in it; getting fussy about him not spilling a single drop of blood on it; tucking herself closer to his chest when she sleeps in it. Oh god. Oh good fucking god, have mercy.

"Is that so?" he shakily questions, though his voice is almost completely cut off by her anxious hissing.

"Yoongi! Stop doing that to the chair, oh my god!"

His eyes immediately slip down to see that– Oh. He has clawed his way through the leather armrests like a kitten on a scratching post. Magnificent.