ʙᴛꜱ ᴀᴍʙᴡ ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ, ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ | ʙᴛꜱ x ᴏᴄ

The one where she's riding the 'Crimson Wave' (MYG)

🌺Cringe but you already knew that

  Min Yoongi wasn't expecting much from his return home from a long day of work at the recording studio. He swore if he saw another throat lozenge he would puke. But his throat was mildly sore, not as bad as it was the day before, at least.

  He unlocks his front door, slipping his shoes off and setting them aside. "Baby, I'm home!" He called, fully expecting to hear her response back. However, it never came.

  Yoongi furrowed his brows. That was strange, Mya always responded when he said he was home, it was just their 'thing' (apparently, according to Jin hyung and Hoseok, every couple had a 'thing') - she said it reminded her of couples living the fifties American dream. He looks back outside, certain that he didn't hallucinate and imagine her car being parked in its usual spot. It was there, in all its pristine glory.

  Maybe she hadn't heard him, but Yoongi wasn't going to raise his voice again, and for a number of reasons. His sore throat being the first.

  He carries the laptop bag he brought with him upstairs, eager to set it down to relieve his aching shoulders. All they did was record for their upcoming album that particular day, however it definitely drained a lot out of him. Yoongi still remembered the days where his voice would always be gone for a day or two once they'd fully stopped recording. Mya was taking good care of him then, and this was before anyone knew about her, so the boys thought he was just magically bouncing back for years until their relationship was revealed. He felt his heart flutter for a moment, because he kind of missed those days.

  He shuffles to their shared bedroom, stopping in his tracks at the sight of his wife prostrated on the bed. Her face was tucked into the crook of her elbow, covered by her black dreads which were splayed out messily. She couldn't seem to lie still, constantly shifting her weight from one side to the other. If Yoongi wasn't mistaken, he was hearing her whimpering quietly.

  "Yeobo," he called and she hardly responded aside from another shift of her weight. He heard a soft and muffled whine, approaching the bed and setting his laptop bag on their dresser. "What happened?" He asked, trying not to let the concern shake his baritone voice.

  She didn't move her face from her arm, simply shook her head. Yoongi heard her sniffling though, and if there was one thing he didn't like, it was seeing his wife cry. Especially if he could help it. "Mya, tell me what's going on." Yoongi said more firmly, but she sniffled, louder this time, and shook her head again.

  And then he saw it on the nightstand: painkillers. Finally, it sunk on him as he assessed the situation.

  She sounded hard of breath, and it sure seemed to him like those painkillers really weren't doing shit. Yoongi sighs, pulling off his watch and rings as he traveled around the bed, setting them all down on his nightstand as he climbed into bed behind her. Without a word he tucked his arm under her torso, which was slightly exposed because her shirt seemed to have rode up a little.

  Mya sniffles as he pulls her to his chest, holding her with one arm and with the other he starts to gently massage her stomach. It didn't always work to relieve her pain, but when Mya got desperate like this - which wasn't very often - she was willing to try almost anything to get rid of the pain.

  He leans up, trying to see her face, "Don't cry, baby. It'll go away." He assured her softly, his husky voice seeming to calm her hysterics down just a little bit. She was breathing better at least, not breathless like before.

  Gently he rubs back and forth motions into her abdomen, she having claimed that the warmth of his body on hers helped sometimes. It took a while, but she finally mustered up the energy to speak.

  "Sorry-" she started.

  "Don't start that shit with me. You know I won't tolerate it." He said bluntly. He didn't want her feeling sorry for things that were out of her control. There was really very little that you could do in this kind of situation when nothing else works.

  She smiled like she wanted to laugh, but held back. "How was work today?" Her voice was on the weaker side, and Yoongi wanted to get up and get her something to help replenish her energy, but she had a grip on his wrist like she didn't want him to let her go just yet. He was glad that their method was at least making some sort of progress. It was instantly relieving knowing that something was at least somewhat working.

  "Productive. Busy. The usual, you know how we get things done," He replied. "You?"

  Mya let out a long sigh, "Don't be mad, but I had to come home from work early today. I thought about calling you to let you know, but I know how you and those producers are about getting work done."

  Yoongi shakes his head, "That doesn't mean shit. Something happens, you call me. I don't care what is on my schedule, what dropped last mimute, anything. And if you can't get to me, then call my manager, but I need to know, yeobo. You have me worried about you."

  She didn't seem to have much energy to argue, so Mya simply bobbed her head in agreement. "What made you decide to come home from work so soon? Was it the pain?"

  Mya sighed deeply, "I really don't wanna talk about it, not now."

  Yoongi figured it was best to leave it alone at that. There was no use fighting her on it. He was just concerned when she became so reserved about her suffering like this. It was frustrating and he only wanted to help.

  "Alright, I'll leave it alone," He declared, looking down to meet her face. "Are you feeling better?"

  She put on a small, tired smile and bobbed her head. Yoongi moves her dreads out of her face, wiping her tears before leaning down and kissing her cheek. "Good, I'll make you something to eat. I can ask my mom about a recipe she had for tea that helped her with menstrual pain."

  Mya's smile grows a bit as he starts to pull away. She grabs his arm and pulls him back down for a moment. "My sweet Suga Bear. Thank you."

  Yoongi felt his cheeks burning at the way she used his stage name. It was always a nickname to her, and she always used it as a sort of euphemism for 'his sugary sweetness', so she calls it. Despite his insistence for her not to. He secretly enjoyed it, but he'd never let her know that.

  She pulls him down and gently kisses his cheek lovingly, finally letting him get up to do as he promised.