Warnings: Swearing, heavy drinking, underage drinking, poverty, almost death, hospitals, abandonment, jealousy, revenge sex, passing out? Will update as chapters progress
Word Count: 3,394
I may come back and edit and clean up some spelling mistakes. I just wanted to get this posted while I had the chance. Let me know if I missed any tags!♥️
Previous Chapter Here
Chapter 3
Morning arrived after a night of punishment. You had barely slept on the couch. Every creak of the apartment had kept you awake. Every passing hour had made your chest tighter. By the time sunlight started bleeding through the windows, your head had hurt and emotionally you had felt scraped raw. And worse of all Yoongi was still asleep in your bed.
You heard movement around eight. Cabinets opening. Coffee brewing. Mina humming softly in the kitchen. Panic jolted through you instantly. You sat up too fast, blanket tangling around your legs just as your bedroom door opened. Yoongi stepped out. Your breath caught automatically. His hair was messy from sleep. Your hoodie hung low on his frame because apparently at some point during the night he had stolen that too.
Mina looked up from the kitchen island. Then froze. Her eyes bounced from Yoongi to you curled on the couch back to Yoongi. Your stomach dropped to your feet. Yoongi looked completely unfazed somehow. “Morning.”, he said hoarsely, walking straight past both of you toward the coffee pot.
That was all he said. You stared at him in disbelief. Mina blinked rapidly, “Ummmmm?” You opened your mouth but nothing came out because what exactly were you supposed to say? “Sorry, your maybe kind of boyfriend drunkenly confessed he’s loved me since high school and fell asleep in my bed while I cried myself to sleep on the couch?” Yoongi poured coffee calmly like this was a normal Tuesday. You wanted to strangle him. To your horror, Mina laughed, “Wow you two must’ve had a rough night.” Yoongi finally glanced at you then. Just briefly and for one stupid hopeful second, you expected something. A look. An acknowledgment. Anything. Instead he looked away immediately. Like last night had never happened. Like he had never said those things. Like you hadn’t spent half the night unraveling because of him. Pain bloomed sharp and immediate in your chest.
You stared at him. Mina continued to laugh. You felt bad for her. She was way too trusting and good-hearted especially for a guy like Yoongi. The vulnerability from last night curdled into humiliation so fast it made you dizzy. You stood abruptly, “I have to go to work.” Mina glanced up, “ It’s Saturday.” You nodded, “Cool. Still leaving.”Yoongi didn’t even look at you. That was the final blow.
The entire day felt wrong after that. Yoongi barely spoke to you once you got home from your “tying up loose ends at the office.”
It was like he was rebuilding the walls between you brick by brick and every single one hurt. You almost wished he’d go back to fighting with you. At least then you knew he felt something. But this? This cold politeness? This avoidance? It made last night feel imagined. By evening your head hurt from overthinking.
So you texted Jungkook: Hey. You busy tonight?
His response came almost immediately: For you? Never.
You stared at the message for a second too long. Then: Can I come over?
Three dots appeared instantly: Yeah. Of course.
You were grabbing your overnight bag when Yoongi finally acknowledged your existence again. “Where are you going?”, his voice came from the kitchen doorway. You didn’t look up, “Out.” He scoffed, “With Jungkook?” You zipped the bag harder than necessary, “Why do you care?”
No answer. You slung the bag over your shoulder. Yoongi’s gaze dropped to it immediately. Recognition flashed across his face.m. Good. Let him stress about it.
You finally looked at him. He was leaning against the doorway in gray sweats and a black shirt again, expression unreadable. But there’s tension in his shoulders now. You smiled without warmth, “Don’t wait up.” The words landed exactly how you intended. Yoongi’s jaw tightened, “Y/N you don’t have to do this.” Your heartbeat stuttered angrily, “Do what?”
“This.”, he motioned at you and the bag. You laughed softly, “Interesting choice of words considering you spent all day pretending I didn’t exist.” His eyes flickered slightly, “I wasn’t pretending.”
“Oh really? Because after last night, I figured maybe you’d have something to say.” The second the words left your mouth, his expression changed. Guarded instantly.
Your stomach sank. He remembered. Every word. Every confession. And he was still acting like this. Humiliation burned hot under your skin. Yoongi looked away first, “You shouldn’t take drunk rambling seriously.” The sentence sliced clean through you. You went completely still. That hurt even worse than if he’d denied it outright. You nodded once slowly, “I see.” He ran a hand through his hair, “That’s not what I meant.” You crossed your arms to hide the shaking in your hands, “Then what did you mean?”
Silence followed. Your eyes stung unexpectedly. You grabbed your keys before he can see it, “Make sure to put on an extra good performance with Mina tonight. She deserves the attention.” His head snapped toward you immediately, “Don’t.”
“Why?”, you asked bitterly, “You said not to take it seriously, right?” You brushed past him before he could answer. But just as you reached the front door his hand caught your wrist. Your breath caught despite yourself. Yoongi’s voice was quieter now, “…Don’t stay there just because of me.” You pulled your hand free carefully, “Don’t think so highly of yourself.”
Weeks passed. The apartment settled into something deceptively calm after the fight. No more jealousy games. No more sharp comments. No more late-night arguments in the kitchen. You and Yoongi simply… stopped trying all together. Which should have felt like relief. Instead it felt like slowly suffocating.
You left before he woke up most mornings. He came home after you were already in bed. When your paths crossed, conversations stayed painfully polite. Even Mina noticed eventually. “You guys are being extra weird lately.”, she said one evening from the couch. You kept scrolling through your phone, “We’ve always been weird.” She shook her head, “No, before you were at least like living together. Now you’re like divorced parents sharing custody.” Yoongi snorted softly from the kitchen. The sound caught you off guard because it used to be your favorite thing in the world making him laugh. You hated that your heart still reacted to him automatically.
Then one afternoon Jin’s wedding invitation arrived and suddenly you were seventeen again. Because Jin wasn’t just a high school friend. He was one of your people. The group was always: Jin. Namjoon. Hoseok. You. Yoongi.
Five idiots practically attached at the hip for years. Which meant one horrifying thing: everyone there was going to know or at least suspect something was wrong.
You considered not going. Then Jin personally called you and said, “If you miss my wedding, I’ll haunt you and not the opening cabinets and making curtains move kind of haunt. I’ll haunt you to the point they make a low budget movie about it one day.”
So now you were standing in front of a mirror a couple months later trying not to throw up from anxiety while Jungkook fixed his tie behind you.“You okay?”, he asked gently. You laughed, “Define okay.” Jungkook smiled softly and stepped closer, hands settling on your waist, “You know we can leave anytime if it gets weird, right?” Your chest tightened unexpectedly. Because Jungkook had always been careful with you. Patient. Kind. Even after realizing there was clearly something unresolved between you and Yoongi and that he was risking becoming an innocent casualty. Part of you knew he deserved better than this. The other part selfishly clung to him anyway.
“You look beautiful by the way.”, he said quietly. You smiled despite yourself, “ You clean up pretty nice too.”
The wedding venue was gorgeous. Warm lights. Soft music. Flowers everywhere. And for the first ten minutes of the reception, everything was fine. Then Hoseok hugged you too tightly and said, “I genuinely thought you and Yoongi would beat any of us to the altar.” You nearly choked on air. Namjoon, the traitor that he was, laughed loudly, “Right? You two were disgustingly inevitable back then.”
“Oh my God.”, you muttered. Jungkook’s hand settled lightly against your back. Yoongi noticed immediately. Jin appeared beside you grinning, “Remember when Yoongi punched that guy sophomore year because he flirted with you a little too hard?”
“I did not punch him.”, Yoongi said flatly across from you. “You absolutely did.”, Namjoon laughed. Yoongi scoffed, “He just…accidentally walked into my fist.” Your stomach flipped unexpectedly. Mina blinked, “Wait. What?”
“Nothing.”, you said too quickly. Unfortunately, everyone started talking at once.
“Yoongi used to follow her around like a guard dog.”
“You guys literally acted married since we were like twelve.”
“My mom still asks if you ended up together.”
“Okay!”, you interrupted loudly, “Wow. Love this. Super fun.” Yoongi looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. Which honestly helped you feel a little better. Until Jin sighed dreamily and said, “Man…we really thought you two were it for each other.” Your chest tightened painfully because for a second you remembered thinking that too. You began to walk away abruptly, “I need a drink.”
By your fourth champagne flute, your body started protesting. But emotionally? You needed the numbness. You wanted more.
You danced with Jungkook because it was easier than thinking. Because he spun you around and made you laugh and kissed your temple when you nearly tripped. Because every time you glanced toward Yoongi, he was already looking at you and you knew you couldn’t survive that sober.
The room grew warmer as the night stretched on. Music pounding. Lights blurring. Your heartbeat uneven. “You okay?”, Jungkook asked again, hands steadying your waist as you swayed. You nodded too fast, “Mmmhmmm.” Your vision swam slightly. You realized vaguely that you hadn’t had actual water in hours and were surviving on a few bites of your salmon from dinner.
The dance floor suddenly tilted underneath you. “Hey Y/N.”, Jungkook said immediately, concern sharpening, “Sit down for a second.”
“I’m fine…”, you tried to respond but then the world went black. Voices pulled you back first. Muffled. Panicked. Cold water splashed your face. You gasped sharply, eyes flying open. The ceiling spun above you. Your head was pounding. “There she is!”, Mina said frantically. You blinked blearily. You were lying on a bench near the reception hall entrance. Mina kneeled beside you holding napkins.
And ten feet away Yoongi and Jungkook were actively arguing. “No, because where the hell were you?”, Yoongi snapped. Jungkook looked furious, ”I’ve been with her the whole time.”
“Then why did she pass out?!”
“At least I was there to catch her!”
“You shouldn’t have let her drink that much!”, Yoongi shouted taking a step closer.
“Oh, fuck off.”, Jungkook spat back. The two of them looked like they were about to get physical.
Your pounding headache worsened instantly. You pushed yourself upright slowly. Immediately both men stopped arguing and rushed toward you at the exact same time. The synchronized movement would almost have been funny if you hadn’t felt like death.
“You okay?”
“How do you feel?”
They glared at each other instantly after speaking.
“I’m alive.”, you mumbled. Yoongi crouched in front of you immediately, eyes scanning your face with open worry. Raw worry. The kind he had tried hiding for weeks, “You scared the shit out of me.”
Your chest tightened unexpectedly and if you had more energy you would’ve snapped back something spiteful. Jungkook handed you water carefully, “Drink this slowly.”
“Thank you.”, you nodded and took a sip of the cool water. Yoongi’s hand lightly steadied your knee while you drank. The contact burned. And judging by the look on Jungkook’s face you weren’t the only one to feel like that. “I’ll take you home.”, he said holding out a hand for you. “No.”, Yoongi said immediately.
The word landed like a gunshot. Silence rippled through the small group. Jungkook blinked once. Then laughed, “No?” Yoongi stood, “I’ll take her home.” Your stomach dropped, “Guys…”
“No.”, Jungkook’s eyes never left Yoongi, “I actually want to hear this.” Yoongi’s jaw tightened and his expression darkened. For a moment he didn’t answer. Then quietly he said, “I know what’s best for her.” Jungkook stared at him. Disbelief slowly turning into anger, “Oh, that’s rich.”
“Jungkook.”, you tried but he cut you off. “No Seriously.”, he laughed again, but there was nothing amused about it, “You spend months acting like you don’t want her in your life and suddenly you’re concerned?” Yoongi’s scoffed, “I never said that.” The room had gone completely silent now. Even the music from the reception felt distant. Jungkook took a step forward, “You don’t get to pick and choose when she matters to you.” Your breath caught. You saw it hit Yoongi too. Saw the guilt flicker across his face. Saw him look away for half a second.
Jungkook wasn’t finished, “You don’t get to push her away when you’re scared and then come running back the second someone else is there instead.”
“That’s not what happened.”, Yoongi grumbled. Jungkook took a step closer to him, “Really?” The two of them were nearly chest to chest now. Mina looked horrified. Namjoon looked like he was trying to decide when to step in. Hoseok looked seconds away from running. Yoongi’s voice dropped lower, “You don’t know anything about us.” Jungkook smiled coldly, “No. But I know she cries because of you…a lot more than you deserve.”
That one hit even harder. Yoongi went completely still. The expression on his face made your chest ache because for the first time all night he looked hurt. Not angry. Not jealous. Just hurt. And suddenly you couldn’t stand any of it anymore, “Stop.” Both of them looked at you. You pushed yourself to your feet. The room tilted slightly. Jungkook steadied you. Yoongi instinctively reached for you too. The movement happened at exactly the same time. You laughed once. A tired, broken little sound, “I’m not a prize for either of you to win.” Neither man spoke.
The guilt on Jungkook’s face appeared instantly. Yoongi looked like he’d been punched. You swallowed hard. Then turned toward Jungkook, “Can you take me home?” Shock flashed across nearly every face around you. Including Jungkook’s. Including Yoongi’s. Especially Yoongi’s. For a second he just stared like he genuinely believed you were going to choose him. Like some part of him had expected it. Jungkook carefully took your hand, “Yeah of course. Let’s go.”
The room remained silent as you started walking. You made it almost to the exit before hearing Yoongi behind you, “Y/N.” You froze. The entire reception seemed to freeze with you. You turned slowly. Yoongi stood exactly where you’d left him. Looking wrecked. Looking desperate. Looking like there were a thousand things he wanted to say. But for once he was too late and you turned and kept walking towards the exit.
The next morning felt like you were being punished. Your head throbbed. Your mouth tasted awful. And every time you closed your eyes you saw Yoongi standing at there watching you leave with Jungkook. You groaned and buried your face deeper into your pillow. The apartment was quiet.
Too quiet. Mina had already left for work. You dragged yourself out of bed and shuffled toward the kitchen. The smell hit you first. Blueberries. Butter. Maple syrup. You froze. Because there was only one person in the world who knew you loved blueberry pancakes like that.
Yoongi stood at the stove. Hair messy. Shoulders tense. A plate already waiting on the counter. For a second neither of you spoke. Then he set the spatula down, “You need to eat.” Something inside you snapped. You laughed, “Seriously?” Yoongi frowned, “You passed out last night. You need food to recuperate.”
“Oh my God.”, you laughed. You stared at the pancakes. At the blueberries arranged exactly how you liked them so there each bite had the perfect amount. At the glass of water beside the plate. At the aspirin. Every tiny thing he remembered. Every tiny thing he still knew. And suddenly you were furious, “You don’t get to do this Yoongi.” His expression tightened, “Do what?”
“This.”, you pointed at the counter, “The pancakes. The worrying. The acting like you care.” His jaw flexed, “I do care.” The words only made it worse. You laughed again, “You wouldn’t have left. I spent years wondering what I did wrong.” Yoongi looked away, “You didn’t do anything.”
“Then why wasn’t I enough for you?”, the question slipped out before you could stop it. Both of you froze. Your eyes immediately filled with tears. You hand ‘t meant to say that. You hadn’t meant to let him see you cry. But it was too late because suddenly all the hurt was pouring out.
“I hated you.”, your voice shook and trees slipped down your cheek, “I hated you every birthday. Every graduation. Every time something good happened and I still looked for you but you weren’t there.” Yoongi didn’t move. You continued, “Once I found out you were still alive I kept thinking maybe you’d call. Maybe you’d come back. Maybe I mattered enough. You broke my heart.”
The words landed between you. For a long moment neither of you spoke. Then Yoongi quietly sat down across from you and listened. You told him everything. About the loneliness. The abandonment. The years spent wondering. The resentment. The jealousy. The hurt. All of it. Every ugly piece. You shouted. You called him names. And the entire time Yoongi just sat there taking it. Not defending himself. Not arguing. Not interrupting. Just listening.
Eventually your voice gave out. The apartment fell silent. You were exhausted. Yoongi stared at the table for a long time. Then he nodded once like he’d finally accepted a sentence he’d been expecting for years, “Okay.” You blinked, “What?”He stood. The chair scraped softly against the floor, “I deserve all of that.”
Something about those words felt wrong. Your stomach dropped, “Yoongi…” But he was already walking away. He paused at the hallway. Still facing away from you. His voice sounded tired, “Y/N…I’m sorry I wasn’t who you needed me to be.”Then he disappeared into his room. The door clicked shut and that hurt more than if he’d yelled.
The next two weeks that followed were filled with tension and exhaustion. It was a Monday when you got home from work beyond worn out. Rain soaked through your jacket. Your feet hurt and all you wanted was greasy takeout and sleep. You pushed open the apartment door. Immediately something felt wrong. You took a few steps in and called out, “Mina?”
No answer. You stepped farther inside. Then stopped. Mina sat curled on the couch. Crying. Your heart dropped. She looked up finally. Eyes red. Face pale. For a second she couldn’t even speak. Then she held up an envelope. Your stomach twisted.
Because you recognized the handwriting instantly.
Yoongi.
“No.”, the word escaped before you could stop it. Mina started crying harder, “He…he left.” The world tilted, “What?” She held up the letter, “Yoongi…he left.” Your pulse thundered in your ears. He continued, “He packed everything while we were at work.” Mina handed you the letter with shaking hands, “He didn’t tell me. Why would he just leave like this?” You couldn’t breathe, “What do you mean he left?” Mina wiped her face, “He quit his job. Said he got a job offer in another country. He said he needed a fresh start.” She began crying harder all over again.
No.
No.
No.
This wasn’t happening. Not again. You turned before Mina could see your face.
Then you walked down the hallway. One step. Then another. Then another. You peaked inside Mina’s room and all that was left were her things. His pile of clothes were gone. No basketball. No guitar. Nothing. Like he’d never existed there at all. Your vision blurred. Slowly you turned toward your room and froze.
A folded letter sat neatly in the center of your bed with your name written across the front. In Yoongi’s handwriting.
The handwriting you’d recognize anywhere.
Your hands started shaking before you even picked it up because before reading a single word you already knew it was goodbye.
A bigger part of you feared that it was going to be forever this time.
Warnings: Swearing, heavy drinking, underage drinking, poverty, almost death, hospitals, abandonment, jealousy, revenge sex, Will update as chapters progress
Word Count: 3,030
I think I added everyone that asked to be tagged. I apologize if I missed anyone. Please let me know!
Chapter 1 Here
Chapter 2
The apartment was quiet when you unlocked the front door the next morning. Too quiet compared to the night before. You stepped inside carefully, holding your heels in one hand while adjusting the sleeves of Jungkook’s hoodie with the other. It smelled faintly like his cologne and laundry detergent, clean and fresh and light. Different than the way you’d been feeling lately.
Nothing had happened. You’d gone back to his apartment, changed into borrowed clothes, watched terrible reality TV while eating leftover pizza, and fell asleep on opposite ends of his couch after talking until almost four in the morning. Jungkook had been nothing but respectful. Which honestly made you like him more.
You closed the apartment door softly behind you hoping everyone was still asleep. Then you heard it, “You’re finally home.”
Your eyes closed briefly. Of course. Yoongi sat alone at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in his hands. Gray sweatpants. Black t-shirt that was two sizes too big. Messy hair. No glasses yet. He looked unfairly attractive for someone currently ruining your Saturday morning just by existing.
His gaze dropped immediately to the oversized hoodie swallowing your body. His expression hardened almost immediately because he knew who it belonged to thanks to the motorcycle brand plastered on the front.
You walked past him toward your room. “That his?”, he said. You stopped. You looked down at the hoodie innocently, “What? This old thing?” Yoongi stared at you. You could practically see him grinding his teeth, “Did you stay over there all night?”
You shrugged casually even though your pulse had started kicking harder, “Why do you want to know?”
“Answer the question.”, he replied back irritation clear. You turned slowly, “Are you my father?…You don’t get to ask me questions like that.” His jaw flexed, “You barely know him.” Your anger flared, “And? I’m an adult and can make choices for myself.
“And guys don’t invite girls over at midnight just to talk.”, he spat back. You almost laughed at the hypocrisy, “Oh…like you have any room to talk.” You leaned against the counter, deliberately calm, “Nothing happened, not that it’s any of your business.” Something in his face loosened instantly before he caught himself but it was too late. You saw it and suddenly this became fun. Cruel maybe but fun.
“Disappointed?”, you asked sweetly. He shook his head, “I didn’t say that.” You smirked, “You didn’t have to. Your eyes are still more expressive than you want them to be.” Yoongi stood abruptly, his coffee abandoned on the counter. The movement startled you a little. He walked closer. Not touching. Just close enough to make your breathing uneven, “You think this is funny?”
“No.”, you said quietly, “I think you lost the right to care where and who I spend my nights with…but you’re not willing to admit that.”
That landed exactly where you wanted it to. His expression twisted. Good. You’ve spent years hurting because of him. He could survive five uncomfortable minutes because of you.
Yoongi looked down at the sleeves hanging past your hands, “You’re wearing his clothes to make me mad?” You laughed, “Believe it or not, my world no longer revolves around you.”
“Could’ve fooled me last night. Isn’t that why you ran out of here and right into his bed?”, the accusation slipped out before he could stop it. Your eyebrows shot up, “You knew that I’d interrupt your weird porn star performance. What did you expect?” His face changed instantly, “I didn’t know you’d hear that.” You laughed louder this time, “Oh please. You made sure I did.”
Silence. Yoongi looked away first, which told you everything. Your chest ached unexpectedly because that hurt worse. Not him sleeping with Mina, but the idea that he wanted to hurt you. You swallowed hard, “That was low.” His voice came rough, “Watching you leave with him wasn’t exactly fun either.”
You stared at each other and there it was again, that awful magnetic pull. The anger between you had become something else now. Hotter. Meaner. More dangerous. A war and maybe the worst part was, you were both enjoying it a little more than oh should.
Yoongi stepped closer again until your back touched the counter edge. Your pulse stuttered.“You really stayed there all night…with him?”, he asked. You lifted your chin stubbornly, “Yep.” His eyes darkened slightly, “Were you trying to make me jealous?” The question hung between you. You should have said no but instead you asked, “Is it working?” For one suspended second, neither of you moved. Then Yoongi laughed quietly. Not amused. Not happy. The sound was rough around the edges. “Careful Y/N.”, he murmured. Your heartbeat kicked harder, “With what?” His gaze dragged slowly over Jungkook’s hoodie one more time before returning to your face, “With whatever…this is. You wouldn’t want to hurt Jungkook.” The AUDACITY of this man to throw that back in your face
The apartment suddenly felt dangerously small. And then, a bedroom door opened down the hall. Both of you jumped apart so fast it was almost embarrassing. Mina walked out rubbing her eyes. She stopped immediately. She looked at you. She looked at Yoongi. She looked at the tension practically vibrating in the air. Then slowly she said, “…Did I miss something?” You grabbed a banana off the counter and walked towards the hallway, “Nope.” Yoongi drained the rest of his coffee in one swallow, “Absolutely not.”
By the fifth week of living together, the apartment had become a battlefield disguised as domestic life. You and Yoongi argued over everything now. The thermostat. Dirty dishes. Music volume. Who forgot to buy coffee filters. But the arguments never felt like they were actually about those things. There was too much underneath them. Too much history. Too much tension. Too much wanting mixed with anger. And somehow Mina still hadn’t figured it out which honestly deserved scientific study at this point.
“You two are sooo much better lately.”, she said cheerfully one Saturday night while putting on lip gloss by the front door before you went on a “double date”. You nearly choked. Yoongi, sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone, just muttered, “Yeah…Totally.” You snorted. Mina pointed at both of you, “See? You’re joking together now.”
“We’re not joking.”, you and Yoongi said simultaneously. Jungkook burst out laughing from beside you because he had become permanently attached to your side these days. Coffee runs before work. Late-night phone calls. Random errands together. Inside jokes. Nothing official yet, but close enough to drive Yoongi insane.
Which…fine. Maybe a tiny part of you enjoyed that. Just a little…or a lot.
The bowling alley was loud, neon-lit, and packed. Mina disappeared toward the bar almost immediately after you arrived, dragging Yoongi with her. You and Jungkook ended up claiming the lane to begin bowling.
“You’re weirdly competitive.”, Jungkook accused as you lined up your shot a few rounds in. You responded with an eye roll, “I just…take it seriously.”
“You were mean mugging an eight-year-old for celebrating too loudly and disrupting your throw.”, Jungkook laughed again. He laughed so easily and freely and you loved it. You were focused as you stepped forward to throw the ball when suddenly hands grabbed your hips from behind. You shrieked. The bowling ball flew completely sideways into the gutter. Jungkook cackled behind you, “Got you!”
“You asshole!”, you gasped, spinning around to smack his arm while laughing. His hands were still loosely on your waist. “You should’ve seen your face!”, he giggled. Both of you were still laughing when you noticed it. Across the lane, Yoongi was now sitting stiffly in one of the plastic seats, his eyes locked directly on Jungkook’s hands on your hips. His expression was unreadable, but his jaw looked tight enough to crack.
Jungkook finally let go of you, still grinning, “Your turn again. You can still get a spare but it’s gonna take some major skill.” You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. Then Yoongi suddenly grabbed Mina by the wrist and pulled her directly onto his lap. Your smile faltered immediately. Mina squealed, “Yoongi behave!”
“What? You just look extra cute today.,” he said casually, though his eyes never left yours. His hand settled possessively on her thigh. Heat flashed through your chest. Fine. Two could play this game. You turned back to Jungkook with forced brightness, “Teach me how to throw it properly since you’re such an expert.” Jungkook stepped behind you instantly, reaching around carefully to adjust your grip. His body was close. Yoongi’s expression darkened another shade. Petty satisfaction bloomed warm in your stomach. This was toxic. Very deeply unhealthy and yet, you couldn’t stop it.
Mina, blissfully unaware of the emotional warfare happening across the bowling lane, waved at you excitedly from Yoongi’s lap, “Take a picture together!” You almost laughed at the absurdity. Jungkook grinned beside you, “C’mere beautiful.” His arm slipped around your waist for the photo. The camera flashed and from the corner of your eye, you caught Yoongi staring at you like he wanted to set the entire building on fire.
An hour later, you were all sat at a corner table as Jungkook returned from the snack counter balancing fries, nachos, and drinks. “I come bearing gifts.”, he announced proudly. “Marry me.”, you said immediately without thinking an shoved a fry into your mouth. Yoongi’s head snapped up so fast it was almost comical. Jungkook handed you a beer with a grin, “For the bowling champion.”
You took it automatically. Then, “She doesn’t like beer.” The words cut cleanly through the noise. Everyone paused. Yoongi leaned back in his chair, his expression neutral. “You hate the taste.”, he continued, “You always said it tastes like bread someone left outside to rot.” Silence settled awkwardly around the table. Because it was true. Exactly true. Your stomach twisted unexpectedly at the reminder of all the tiny things he still remembered. Jungkook looked between the two of you, “Oh…Sorry, I can grab you something else.”
“No.”, you said quickly. Your eyes locked onto Yoongi’s, “It’s fine.” Then deliberately, you lifted the beer and took a sip. It tasted exactly as awful as you remembered. Jungkook laughed when your face immediately scrunched up against your will, “Okay, wow, you really do hate it.”, he smiled. Mina giggled too. But Yoongi didn’t laugh. He was still watching you. Quiet and intense. He knew exactly why you drank it anyway and he hated it. You held his gaze while taking another sip. Pure spite. His eyes narrowed slightly. Message received. The war only intensified after that.
The apartment was quiet when your bedroom door creaked open on a Thursday night a couple weeks later. You didn’t look up immediately. You were sitting cross-legged on your bed in oversized pajamas, your laptop open and some new drama playing but forgotten. You were still annoyed from something Yoongi had said earlier.
“Go away.”, you muttered automatically when you saw him. No response. Just the sound of the door shutting softly. You sighed, “Yoongi I’m serious, I don’t have the energy to fight with you toni…”
He took a step and then stumbled. Your head snapped up instantly. Yoongi caught himself against your dresser with a quiet curse and immediately you smelled it. The strong familiar scent of liquor. Your irritation vanished into concern so fast it made you angry at yourself. Yoongi squinted at you from across the room, “Why’re there two of you?” You climbed off the bed, “How much did you drink?”
“I’m still conscious so…not enough.”, he chuckled in a way that almost hurt your heart and that answer alone told you something was wrong. Yoongi wasn’t usually a messy drunk. If anything, he got quieter when he drank too much. It was only when he was really hurting about something did he let it get to this point. And tonight he looked unraveled. Cheeks flushed. Hair falling into his glassy eyes. An oversized black hoodie half slipping off one shoulder. Your chest tightened even though you didn’t want it to.
“You need water.”, you said gently. He shook his head, “No…I need you to stop dating tattoo boy.” You blinked, “…Tattoo boy?”
“Jungkook.”, he said the name like he was chewing glass. Despite yourself, a laugh slipped out. Yoongi pointed at you accusingly, “Don’t laugh.” You in fact continued to laugh, “You called him tattoo boy.” Yoongi whined, “He has too many tattoos.” You corrected him, “You have tattoos.” He scoffed, “Mine are tasteful.” You snorted, “You have a cat playing basketball with a tangerine on your bicep and you let Jimin tattoo a crooked smiley face on your butt cheek after a drunken night in college. I wouldn’t exactly call those tasteful.”
Yoongi swayed slightly where he stood, “He thinks he’s soooooo cool with his stupid tattoos and stupid motorcycle and extra stupid muscles. I mean he flexed while bowling.” You laughed out loud, “He had to pick up a bowling ball.” Yoongi pointed at you accusingly, “Exactly. Why did that require a flex? It’s bowling. Old people and kids do it.”
Another laugh escaped you before you could stop it. And suddenly Yoongi’s expression softened. The kind of look you hadn’t seen in years. “There it is.”, he murmured. Your smile faltered slightly, “What?” He looked like he might cry, “That laugh. I missed being the one to make you do it.” Your stomach twisted painfully. You looked away first, “Okay. You need to go to bed before Mina sees you like this.” At Mina’s name, something strange flickered across his face. Almost guilt. Almost irritation. You moved toward him carefully, “Come on.”
Yoongi let you guide him out of your room surprisingly easily at first, until you reached the hallway. Then suddenly his hand caught your wrist, his warm fingers wrapping gently around you, “I don’t wanna sleep in there.” You glanced toward Mina’s closed bedroom door, “Too bad. You created this life for yourself.” He stood firm, “Y/N I wanna stay with you.” Your heart stumbled, “No.”
“Please.”, the word came out quiet. Soft. So unlike him that it nearly undid you. You exhaled shakily, “Yoongi…”
“I miss being able to be close to you.”, he whispered this time as a tear fell down his cheek. There it was again, that unbearable honesty drunk people spilled accidentally. You should have pushed him away. You should have absolutely pushed him away and shut him out. Instead, five minutes later, he was in your bed and you hated yourself a little for it.
To be fair, he was fully clothed, facing the opposite direction, and halfway unconscious already. You had only agreed because you couldn’t risk Mina seeing him like this and asking questions neither of you were ready to answer. That was all. That was what you kept telling yourself anyway. Your room was dark except for the dim streetlights glowing through your curtains. Yoongi lay beside you on top of the blankets, his breathing slow and uneven and this felt too familiar. Too intimate. Too much like before. Your throat tightened unexpectedly as memories began creeping in without permission.
High school. Seventeen and just about to graduate. The middle of the night. Rain hitting your bedroom window when you heard pebbles tapping against the glass. You had opened it to find Yoongi down below, drunk and heartbroken after a bad fight with his father.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”, he had slurred, “You’re the only person always there for me.” You had snuck him inside, terrified your parents would wake up. He curled beside you in bed wearing one of your hoodies while you whispered nonsense until he fell asleep. And sometime around 3 a.m., staring at his face in the dark, you realized you loved him. Not just a crush. Not just friendship. Love. Real, terrifying, irreversible love.
The memory hit so hard your eyes stung suddenly. Beside you, present-day Yoongi shifted closer in his sleep. Your chest ached. Because this version felt like a ghost of that one, close enough to touch, but too far away to keep.
You blinked hard against the tears gathering in your eyes. You’d had enough and this was a mistake. You turned slightly toward him, ready to wake him up and tell him to go to his own room. Then quietly you heard him mumble something that sounded like, “So unfair.” Your breath caught. Yoongi’s eyes were still closed but he was talking anyway. “What is?”, you whispered before you could stop yourself even though you knew better.
His voice came rough with sleep, “That night.” Your heartbeat stopped. “The night you snuck me into your room after that fight I had with my dad.”, he continued. Every muscle in your body locked. Yoongi swallowed hard against the pillow, “That’s when I knew.” Your eyes burned instantly, “Knew what?” Silence lasted so long you thought maybe he had drifted off again. Then, “That I loved you Y/N.”
The room tilted. You genuinely felt sick for a second. Because all these years, all this time, you thought you were alone in that memory when in reality he had experienced the same thing at the same exact moment. You stared at him in the dark, tears finally slipping free despite your effort to stop them.
Yoongi kept talking softly, his words slurred with exhaustion, “You were wearing those stupid bunny pajamas and you smelled like that vanilla body lotion you always used. It always made me want a cupcake.” A broken laugh escaped you through your tears. He continued, “You kept touching my hair cause you thought it calmed me down…” It had. It always had. Yoongi’s breathing evened out slowly after that as he fell asleep like it felt good to finally get that off his chest. He was completely unaware he had just cracked your entire heart open.
You stared at the ceiling for another minutes.Then two. Then five. Then finally you slid out of bed because staying beside him hurt too much. You grabbed a blanket from the closet and quietly left the room, pausing only once at the doorway. Yoongi was curled slightly toward your side of the bed even in sleep like muscle memory still remembered you.
Your chest ached violently. Tomorrow morning was going to be a disaster. You already knew it. Especially when you had to explain to Mina why her boyfriend was asleep in your bed while you were curled miserably on the couch trying not to cry.
YOU HAVE ME ON MY TOES with your latest yoongi fic. OMGGG
Awww I love getting messages like this!!♥️
The next chapter will hopefully be out soon. I caught some kind of a virus and I’m the sickest I have ever been in my life so I’m a little more behind on writing than I thought I’d be but I’m getting there!
Warnings: Swearing, heavy drinking, poverty, almost death, hospitals, abandonment, jealousy, revenge sex. Will update as chapters progress
Word Count: 2, 963
New story I’ll be posting. My plan is for this to only be 4-5 chapters. Hope you guys like it!♥️
The first thing Min Yoongi said to you after all these years was—
“Still eating that terrible marshmallow cereal, huh?”
You froze in the middle of the kitchen with an overflowing grocery bag digging into your fingers. Your apartment suddenly felt too small. Too hot. Too full of him. Yoongi stood near the counter like he belonged there this whole time. Like he didn’t disappear from your life without explanation. Like he didn’t stop answering texts after eleven years of friendship and one almost-confession that still lived under your skin like a splinter.
Your roommate Mina beamed beside him completely unaware she had just detonated a bomb in your little two bedroom apartment. “You guys know each other already?”, she asked. You stared at her. Then at him. Then at the three massive suitcases by the front door.
No. Absolutely not.
Mina kept talking, “I told you my boyfriend needed somewhere to stay while he looked for a new place, remember?”
Boyfriend. The word landed ugly in your chest. Yoongi scratched the back of his neck, eyes flicking away from yours first.
Coward.
You glared at him. He looked exhausted but still good. Dark hoodie. Ripped jeans. Dark hair longer than the last time you saw him. He still wore too many rings on his fingers. But he had faint shadows beneath his eyes and looked thinner than you remembered.
He used to text you every stupid thought he had even at 2 a.m. Now he couldn’t even look at you properly. Mina laughed nervously, “Okay…weird energy going on here.”
“You think?”, you muttered. Yoongi exhaled slowly, “I can stay somewhere else.” Something sharp twisted in your stomach at how easily he said it. Like leaving again would be simple. Like it would solve everything. Like you didn’t still remember standing outside his apartment in the rain after he vanished from your life because you were terrified something horrible had happened to him. Like you didn’t spend months grieving someone who was still alive.
Mina looked between the two of you, “Hold on…did something happen between you two? Yoongi’s jaw tightened. You set the groceries down harder than necessary, “Ask your boyfriend.” The title sounded poisonous coming out of your mouth. His eyes flashed at that. Good. You hoped it would hurt him. Mina’s voice softened carefully, “Did you guys date?” “No.”, you said immediately. Yoongi said nothing and that felt worse.
You successfully avoided him for the next few hours. Then you walked into the kitchen at midnight wearing old sleep shorts and one of your oversized college hoodies only to find him standing barefoot at the stove making ramen. The sight hit you so hard it nearly stole your breath. Because this…this used to be your normal.
Late nights. Shared meals. Comfortable silence. Him handing you the first bite without even asking. Home.
Yoongi glanced over his shoulder. His gaze caught on your bare legs for half a second before he looked away. “You still hate mushrooms?”, he asked quietly. You crossed your arms, “You still disappear when things get difficult?”
The kitchen went still. Rain tapped softly against the apartment windows. Yoongi turned the stove off, “I deserved that.” You laughed once. Bitter, “That’s all you have to say?”
“No.”, he shook his head. You scoffed, “Then explain it.” He dragged a hand through his hair, visibly tired, “Not tonight Y/N.”
You remembered sleeping on his shoulder during train rides, him carrying your drunk self home once without complaining, the way everyone always assumed you were together, the night he almost kissed you on your apartment fire escape as you watched the New Year’s Eve fireworks explode over the city. The night everything changed.
You leaned against the counter, heart pounding too hard, “You know what the worst part was?” Yoongi stayed silent. “I thought you died.”, you said trying to steady your voice, “Or got seriously hurt. Or that…you hated me.” That finally broke him. His eyes closed briefly and for the first time since he walked back into your life, he looked genuinely wrecked.
“I know.”, he said softly. Your throat tightened against your will, “I called your parents. I called your brother. I even called your ex. No one would tell me where you were or what happened. You don’t get to come back now and act normal.” He shook his head, “I’m not trying to.”
“Then what are you trying to do?”, you asked. His gaze lifted to yours slowly, “I didn’t know if you’d still look at me the same after what happened. I couldn’t stand the thought of it.” Your chest ached because despite everything, Despite the anger and humiliation and heartbreak…You still did. That was the problem. You hated that part most.
Mina broke the tension by stumbling into the kitchen half asleep looking for water. You stepped away from Yoongi so fast it was almost embarrassing. His mouth twitched when he noticed. “Why are you guys awake?”, Mina yawned. You and Yoongi remained silent. She squinted at both of you, “Okay…whatever weird ex fuckbuddy energy this is, can you save it for daylight?”
You nearly choked. Yoongi coughed into his fist to hide a laugh. And for one awful second, it felt normal again. Like the old days when you and him used to share secret looks across crowded rooms because nobody else understood your humor. Then Mina shuffled back to bed and reality settled over the apartment again. You pointed at the ramen pot you hadn’t seen in years, “You stole my favorite pot.”
“You used to steal my hoodies.”, he responded. You laughed, “I gave those back.” He disagreed, “No, you absolutely didn’t. Not all of them.” You opened your mouth to argue, then stopped because you still had one. Folded in the back of your closet. The black Chicago Bulls one with paint stains on the sleeve from the time he helped you paint the kitchen in your first apartment.
Yoongi watched realization cross your face. Slowly, one eyebrow lifted. Heat crept up your neck, “Don’t.”
“You still have it?”, he smirked. You rolled your eyes, “Shut up.” His laugh was quiet. It slipped under your ribs too easily. You hated that your body still remembered him. The cadence of his voice. The way his shoulders shook slightly when he laughed for real. The way he always looked at you like you were the only thing worth listening to. That was all before he disappeared.
Your expression hardened again. The shift was instant enough that his smile faded. “You still haven’t answered me.”, you crossed your arms again. Yoongi looked down at the stove. Silence stretched. Rain kept tapping against the windows. Finally, he said quietly, “My dad got sick.”
You blinked. That was not what you expected at all. He continued, “He collapsed at work. Cardiac arrest. Spent a few weeks in the intensive care. Nearly died twice. My mom got so stressed out she ended up in the hospital too. Debt piled up. They almost lost their apartment. Everything happened at once and it was all on me to fix. I was stressed. I got really depressed. I was drinking more than I should’ve. I wasn’t eating or sleeping.”
Some of the anger inside you faltered. But only some, “That doesn’t explain ghosting me.” His jaw tightened, “Y/N I was drowning.” That angered you, “So you decided to drown alone?”
“I decided…”, He stopped himself hard enough that you noticed. He lowered his voice, “I didn’t think I could be what you needed anymore. You were getting close to graduating. You had a new job lined up and you were talking to that guy. I knew you’d drop everything for me and I didn’t want to become a burden to you…so I left and went to stay with a friend for a while until I could get my shit back in order.”
Your stomach twisted, “That wasn't your decision to make.” He took a deep breath, “Yeah…I know that now.” The honesty caught you off guard. Yoongi was always terrible at talking about himself especially when it came to his feelings. He used to disappear for days whenever life got a little tough, then show back up pretending nothing happened but never like this, never to this extent.
You stared at him, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”His eyes finally met yours because he still knew when you were asking the real question underneath.
Why didn’t you trust me?
Why wasn’t I worth staying for?
Yoongi’s voice came out rough, “Because I was embarrassed that I wasn’t mentally strong enough and…I’m always worried about going down that path again…I never wanted you to see me like that…Because I was in love with you.”
The apartment went completely silent. Every muscle in your body locked. He looked horrified immediately after saying it aloud, like the confession escaped by accident. All those almost moments suddenly rearranged themselves into something unbearable.
The fire escape.
The lingering touches.
The jealousy neither of you acknowledged.
The way he looked at every guy you dated like he was trying not to murder them.
Your heart pounded so hard you felt sick. Yoongi laughed once under his breath, miserable, “There…happy now?”
“No.”, you whispered, “You disappeared anyway. You left me alone. Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep because of you? How many events were ruined because all I could think about was you and how I wanted you there with me?”
That landed with him. You saw it. The guilt. The regret. The self-loathing he’s probably carried for years. But it didn’t magically fix you. Because loving someone and abandoning them can’t exist in the same sentence.
Yoongi rubbed his hand over his mouth, “Y/N I thought if I stayed close to you, eventually I’d ruin you too.”
“You ruined me by leaving.”, you said. The words came out sharper than intended. He flinched and you hated that too. Because even now, part of you wanted to take it back. You turned away before he could see your eyes getting glossy, “Go to sleep, Yoongi. You get headaches when you stay up too late.”
“Y/N…I missed you every day.”, he said so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.
Your body physically ached. You gripped the edge of the counter harder. You didn’t look at him because if you looked at him right now, you might forgive him too soon. And he hadn’t earned that yet. Instead you walked away and shut your door a little harder than necessary.
After that night, living with Yoongi became a game of strategic avoidance. A stupid, exhausting, painful game.
You learned his routines within a week despite trying not to. He left for work early. Came home late. Fell asleep on the couch sometimes with his glasses crooked on his face.
And worst of all was that he acted normal. Not fully normal. Not warm. Not cold. Just carefully there like he was trying not to push you too hard. Which irritated you more because every now and then you still caught him looking at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention and there was still something heartbreakingly familiar in it.
Then Mina kissed him goodbye in front of you one morning and you remembered exactly why you should hate him. So you settled into a rhythm. Short answers. Minimal eye contact. Passive aggressive sticky notes on the fridge instead of talking it out like adults.
At one point Mina laughed so hard she snorted and said, “You two are literally like an old married couple.” Neither of you responded. Which said enough.
*
The thing with Jungkook started because he was easy in a good way. Easy to talk to. Easy to laugh with. Easy on the eyes. Easy in the way Yoongi never was.
You both worked at the same law firm. You were a paralegal and he worked in marketing. You flirted shamelessly and he had asked you out three times before you finally said yes. Mostly because you were tired of feeling stuck. Partially because a small and admittedly ugly part of you wondered what Yoongi would do if and when he found out.
Your answer came on Friday night. You were standing in front of the bathroom mirror fixing your earrings when the door knocked once. “Occupied.”, you called. You opened the door a few moments later. Yoongi stopped when he saw you and for a second he just stared. You suddenly became hyperaware of everything, the little black dress hugging your body, the expensive and only for special occasions perfume on your neck, the heels you almost never wore.
Yoongi looked unfairly good himself in a dark long sleeve shirt and loose sweatpants, hair damp from a shower earlier. His eyes dragged over you once before he stopped himself. Something tight flashed across his face. You crossed your arms, “What?”
“Nothing.”, he shook his head. “Then why are you standing there like you saw a ghost?”, you angrily asked him. His jaw ticked, “You just…look nice.” The compliment landed with dangerous softness. You hated that your stomach flipped anyway, “…Thanks.”
Silence followed. Then he asked, “Where are you going?” You shrugged like it didn’t mean anything, “A date.” Then you saw it. The shift. His expression smoothed too quickly to be natural, “With who?” You leaned against the sink casually, “Jungkook.”
“The guy from work?”, he questioned almost comically. You raised an eyebrow, “You know about Jungkook?” Yoongi tried to act casual, “Mina talks.” You almost smiled, “Well, he’s picking me up in ten.” Yoongi nodded once slowly. Then another pause, “…Do you know him well?” You blinked, “Excuse me?” He shrugged, “I’m just asking because guys can be weirdos.” A laugh escaped you before you can stop it, “You do not get to act protective right now.” His eyes narrowed slightly, “I’m not acting like anything.”
“You vanished for years and now suddenly you care who picks me up?”, you laughed harder this time. “That’s not…”, he tried but you cut him off, “And you’re dating my roommate so you have no right to worry about me any more.” The words hit clean. Sharp. Yoongi went quiet instantly. Because neither of you had actually talked about it. Not really or in a way you should have. You swallowed past the sudden tightness in your throat, “So let’s not start this.”
For a moment he just looked at you then quietly, “I’m not dating Mina.” Your heart stuttered, “What?…She called you her boyfriend.” Yoongi rubbed a hand over his face like he was exhausted suddenly, “Mina and I hook up sometimes. It’s…she keeps calling it more than that but it’s never been made official and I’m not sure what I want so I’ve just been going with it for now.” You stared at him.
Something ugly and hopeful sparked in your chest before you crushed it immediately, “Well…that still makes this none of your business…and…maybe you should figure that out before you hurt her too.” Yoongi nodded like he already knew he was walking down a dangerous path with that.
A knock sounded at the front door. Jungkook. Yoongi’s whole body visibly stiffened. Petty satisfaction curled warm in your stomach. You brushed past him before he could say anything else.
Jungkook stood outside holding flowers. Yoongi was the only other guy to ever buy you flowers. “Wow Y/N.”, he said the second he saw you, “You look…wow.” You laughed softly, “You already said wow.”
“I know. I panicked. Words are really hard right now.”, he embarrassedly chuckled. Then Yoongi appeared behind you and the entire mood changed. Jungkook straightened slightly. Yoongi leaned against the doorway with crossed arms, expression unreadable, “So…you’re Jungkook.” Jungkook blinked, “Uh…yeah.” You could practically feel the testosterone swirling in the air. Yoongi’s gaze drifted to the flowers. Then back to Jungkook. “She likes daisies not carnations.”, he smirked. Your jaw dropped, “Yoongi.”
“What?”, he said innocently. Jungkook looked deeply confused now, “Are you her brother or something?” You snorted. Yoongi said flatly, “No.” You grabbed your purse before the situation got any more strained, “Ignore him. He’s just being an asshole.” Jungkook laughed awkwardly, “I’ll try.”
As he led you down the hall, you glanced back once which was a huge mistake. Yoongi was still standing there watching you leave and the look on his face made your stomach drop. He looked absolutely furious.
The date went well. Jungkook was sweet and attentive and kept making you laugh until your cheeks hurt. You almost forgot about Yoongi entirely. Until Jungkook took you home around midnight and said quietly, “So…I think that guy hates me. He looked like he wanted to punch me.” You groaned into your hands, “I’m so sorry. Please don’t pay any attention to him.”
And then as you opened the front door you heard it.
The sound hit you harder the second you stepped inside the apartment. A laugh that was Mina’s. Then Yoongi’s voice low enough you couldn’t make out the words. Then another laugh.
Then unmistakably…moaning. Your entire body went still. Once again the apartment suddenly felt too hot. Too small. Jungkook awkwardly cleared his throat behind you. “Oh…well….”, he chuckled, “They’re having a fun night I guess.” Humiliation burned up your neck instantly. Because they were being loud. Like suspiciously loud. The headboard was hitting the wall loudly, over and over. Mina gasping loud. Yoongi begging her to be louder in between his own unnecessarily loud grunts and groans. Like they wanted someone to hear.
Your chest tightened so painfully it hurt to breathe. You felt your eyes burning. Jungkook shifted, “Y/N…do you…do you want to come back to my place instead?”
And maybe if this had happened yesterday or the day before, you would’ve said no. But tonight? Tonight, anger tasted better than heartbreak. You looked toward their closed bedroom door. Then back at Jungkook.
And something reckless bloomed inside you. “Yeah.”, you said loudly, “I’ll stay at your place tonight.”
From behind the bedroom wall…
silence. Complete. Instant.
Like someone stopped moving the second the words left your mouth.
Warnings: Drinking, Sugar Daddying, Swearing, talks of prostitution, maybe a tiny hint of slut shaming?, Sick pet, mentions of vet clinics and surgery, Whore used as an insult, physical fighting, small mention of injuries/blood, extreme poverty, surgeries, cheating, hints of smut but nothing explicit, the term daddy used in an implied sexual way
Word Count: 3,804
Thank you to everyone that has read this series and commented and liked! I really appreciate it. We have reached the end and I hope it doesn’t disappoint. We’ll see what comes next!♥️ Requests or any ideas you have are always welcome!
Chapter 10- Raspberry Eclairs & Ice Cream Cones
His hands slid from your waist to your hair, fingers tangling in the strands to tilt your head back, deepening the kiss until you were breathless against him. A low, jagged groan vibrated against your throat as he trailed his lips down to the sensitive skin of your neck. "I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I met you.”, he rasped, his breath hot against your skin, “Every time you looked at me...every time you pulled away..."
He didn't wait for a response. He lifted you effortlessly, your legs instinctively hooking around his waist as he backed you toward the edge of the dining table. The wood was cool against the back of your thighs, a sharp contrast to the radiating heat of his body. He settled between your knees, his hands roaming upward, tracing the curve of your ribs until his palms pressed firmly against your chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of your heart.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes clouded with a raw, predatory intensity you’d never seen before. Gone was the polished billionaire. The man who had once offered you an arrangement. And in his place was a man who wanted to consume all of you. He reached for the hem of your shirt, his knuckles brushing your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through your nerves, “Are you sure? Because if I start, Y/N, I’m not going to be able to be gentle with how much I want you."
"Don't be gentle.”, you whispered, reaching for the buttons of his shirt with shaking hands. He didn't need to be told twice. He stripped his shirt off in one fluid motion, the candlelight dancing over the lean muscle of his back and chest. When he pulled your top over your head, his eyes traveled over you with a reverence that made you feel more seen than any other man ever had.
He leaned back in, his kisses becoming more possessive, more demanding. His hands were everywhere mapping your curves, pressing you into the table, pulling you so close there wasn't a breath of air between you. He moved with a focused, heavy grace, trailing his lips down your stomach, making you arch against him with a sharp intake of breath.
When he finally moved to carry you upstairs, he didn't break eye contact once. The hallway was a blur of shadows, but his room was filled with the lingering scent of his cologne and the soft light of the moon. He laid you back against the silk sheets, the same ones you’d shared during the storm but everything was different now. There was no polite space, no hesitation. As he moved over you, the weight of him felt like an anchor, finally pinning you to the reality you had been afraid to claim.
Every touch was an answer to the doubts everyone else had planted. This wasn't a game. It wasn't an arrangement. It was the friction of two people finally admitting they were terrified of how much they mattered to each other. In the quiet of the French countryside, with the ruins of a cake downstairs and flowers blooming in the dark of the windowsill, Yoongi showed you exactly what he meant when he said he wouldn't put this much of himself into someone he didn't love. He was slow where you needed it and frantic where you didn't, his name a constant, broken prayer on your lips until the sun began to threaten the horizon and the city of Paris felt a lifetime away.
Morning came slowly after that. Warm sunlight spilled through the curtains in pale gold streaks, washing softly across the rumpled sheets and tangled blankets. For a few seconds, you stayed half-asleep, warm and comfortable enough that you didn’t want to move. Then awareness settled in. The ache in your thighs. The bruises on your hips and the marks on your chest. The warmth still lingering against your skin. The memory of Yoongi’s hands on your waist. Your face heated instantly.
You shifted slightly beneath the blankets, reaching lazily toward the other side of the bed only to find it empty. Your eyes blinked open. For one brief, horrible second, panic flickered through you. Had you imagined all of it? Had things become weird afterward? Did he regret it? Then the smell of butter and coffee drifted faintly through the room and from downstairs, you heard cabinet doors softly closing followed by the quiet clink of dishes.
Relief hit you so fast you almost laughed at yourself. You pushed upright slowly, wincing a little at the soreness in your muscles before glancing around the room. Your clothes from last night were scattered somewhere between the bedroom and hallway in a way that made your face warm all over again.
A soft gray silk dress shirt lay folded neatly beside the bed. Yoongi’s. You smiled and slipped it on inhaling the leftover scent of him. The staircase creaked softly beneath your feet as you made your way downstairs, sleeves hanging over your hands, the sweater swallowing you whole. The mansion smelled warm now. Fresh coffee. Pastries. Rain lingering faintly through the cracked kitchen window. Yoongi stood at the counter with his naked back turned to you, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, dark hair damp from a shower and slightly messy like he’d only run his fingers through it once before giving up.
And the flowers. Your flowers sat in the middle of the kitchen table in a clean glass vase. Not shoved aside somewhere. Not forgotten. Carefully arranged. Your chest tightened quietly.
Like he felt you there, Yoongi glanced over his shoulder and immediately stilled. The look on his face hit you all over again. Soft. Affectionate. Absolutely ruined for you. “You’re finally awake.”, he said quietly. You nodded once, suddenly very aware you were wearing his shirt and absolutely nothing else underneath. His eyes flicked downward briefly.m. Then back up again.
“…Morning.”, you managed. A small smile tugged at his mouth. You wandered closer slowly. On the counter sat a white pastry box from the little bakery up the road. Beside it were two plates and fresh coffee already waiting.
“You went out this morning?”, you asked softly. “Mhm and then I came back and showered and started cleaning up a little.”, he hummed, “Couldn’t sleep.”
Your brows lifted slightly. A quiet smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth then, “Relax Y/N. That’s a good thing.” Heat rushed straight to your face, “You’re awfully smug today.”
“You’re wearing my shirt, only my shirt, in my kitchen after telling me you love me and giving me the most incredible night of sex I’ve ever had.”, he replied calmly, “Let me have this.” You groaned softly, hiding your face briefly in your sleeve while Yoongi laughed quietly under his breath.
He opened the pastry box then, revealing delicate raspberry eclairs decorated with gold flakes. Your eyes widened instantly, “Oh my god.”
“I saw you staring at them when we walked by the other day.”, he said softly. “You remembered that?”, you asked. Yoongi gave you a look over the rim of his coffee cup, “I remember everything about you. It’s actually becoming a real problem.”
Your stomach flipped violently. He slid a plate toward you before leaning casually against the counter beside you. Not across from you. Beside you. Close enough that your shoulder brushed his. Close enough that his hand absentmindedly settled against your lower back like it belonged there now.
You picked up one of the pastries carefully before taking a bite and immediately made a sound embarrassing enough that Yoongi actually laughed, “That good?” You pointed the pastry toward him, “Don’t talk to me right now.” He grinned openly this time, “That good then.” You nodded, “Almost better than the sex.” He laughed at that, “Well guess I’ll have to step up my game then. I can’t be outdone by some raspberry eclairs.”
With the silence that followed the air shifted again immediately. His eyes dropped briefly to your mouth. Then slowly back to your eyes. “You look good here.”, he murmured quietly. Your heartbeat stumbled. “Because I’m wearing your shirt?”, you teased weakly. “No.”, he said softly. His hand slid a little more firmly against your waist. You stopped breathing for a second. You knew what he meant even without further clarification.
The flight home was quieter than the one there but in the best way. Yoongi lazily traced circles against your leg absentmindedly. You rested against his shoulder, half-awake as clouds drifted outside the plane window. For a while neither of you spoke. Then suddenly he said, “I want to ask you something.” You tilted your head slightly to look at him. Yoongi looked nervous. His fingers paused briefly against your thigh before continuing slower this time. Yoongi exhaled softly through his nose before glancing down at your joined hands.
“I know technically we already crossed every line possible this week.”, he started dryly, earning a quiet laugh from you, “But I want to do this properly. You deserve that.” Your chest tightened instantly. “No arrangement this time.”, he said quietly. “No expectations. No hiding. No playing games. Nothing like that.” His gaze lifted to yours finally, softer now. “I just want you Y/N. I want to be exclusive.” Your heart melted completely. You stared at him for exactly two seconds before breaking into a grin.
“Well...”, you sighed dramatically, “I don’t know…I don’t really want to loose my sugar daddy benefits.” Yoongi looked genuinely offended, “Do you really think you would lose benefits? Things can only go up from here.” You laughed so hard the flight attendant glanced over briefly. “Oh really?”, you asked. He nodded seriously, “You’ll get the girlfriend privilege now. It comes with A LOT of extra benefits.”
You smiled helplessly because deep down you knew there had never really been another answer. You leaned over, kissing him softly once before whispering against his lips, “Yes.” The relief that crossed his face afterward was almost devastating like some part of him had still been scared you’d say no.
“You actually managed to tie down THE Min Yoongi.”, Jimin said across your kitchen counter four days later, “Do you understand how incredible that is? You tamed the untamable.” You nearly choked on your drink. Across the apartment, Yoongi rolled his eyes from where he stood unpacking takeout containers. You laughed helplessly while Yoongi muttered something under his breath in annoyance. Jimin leaned closer toward you conspiratorially. “He’s so smiley now.”, he whispered like it was concerning, “I’m not sure if I like it.” Yoongi threw a napkin at him, “I’m never coming over when you’re here again.”
“You say that every time and yet here you are.”, Jimin smiled. The entire evening felt warm in a way your life suddenly always seemed to around Yoongi now. Like somehow you’d slipped quietly into each other’s routines without noticing.
And apparently everyone else noticed too. Within two weeks, people at work had figured it out. Mostly because Yoongi didn’t even try hiding how gone he was for you.
He brought you breakfast every time you worked a morning shift. Canceled meetings to take you to lunch. Remembered tiny details about things you mentioned once in passing.
And he talked about you constantly.
“Y/N likes that restaurant.”
“Y/N hates this brand of wine.”
“Y/N said that musician was overrated.”
One day while you sat in his office waiting for him to wrap up a meeting, one of his assistants looked at you with exhausted amusement and whispered, “You realize he’s obsessed with you, right?” You did and somehow it still made your stomach flip every time.
It was a Friday when the restaurant glowed warm against the cool evening outside, all golden lighting and soft jazz drifting through the air. Candlelight flickered between you and Yoongi as he reached across the table, stealing one of the roasted potatoes from your plate before you could stop him. “Did you just take food off my plate?”, you narrowed your eyes. He looked completely unbothered as he chewed, “Mmmhmm.”
“You’re gonna pay for that later.”, you smirked. “You’ve eaten half my dinner every night for the last week.”, he said pointing his fork at you. “That’s sharing because you love me.”, you corrected immediately, “This was theft.” A quiet laugh left him, shoulders relaxing deeper into the booth. He looked different lately. Ever since that last night in the countryside when everything between you had finally stopped feeling uncertain.
Now he touched you constantly without thinking about it. A hand on your knee beneath the table. His thumb brushing your wrist while you sat and watched tv. That soft look in his eyes every time he caught you smiling at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.
“You’re staring at me again.”, he murmured suddenly. You blinked out of your trance, “Don’t think so highly of your self. I was just…plotting my revenge for the potato theft.”
“You’re something else.”, he laughed. “Yeah but you love it.”, you shot back. His grin widened just slightly before he lifted his wineglass, “More than you’ll ever know.”
And then a voice cut through the moment, “Well…this is unexpected.” Your smile faded immediately. Mia stood beside the table dressed in a white silk dress and pearls, one hand loosely wrapped around a wineglass. Her eyes moved between the two of you before settling on Yoongi with a knowing little smirk.
Yoongi’s entire posture stiffened. “What do you want?”, he said flatly. She ignored the tone completely, leaning slightly closer toward him instead. Speaking loud enough for you to hear every word. “I’m honestly surprised to see you two here together.”, she sighed dramatically, “Especially since I heard about you and that waitress from your business dinner the other night. Something about the backseat of your car and you bragging about her underwear ending up in your pocket.”
Silence followed. Your entire body froze so hard your muscles ached. Mia’s eyes slid toward yours briefly, waiting for the reaction. Waiting for the hurt. The doubt. Then she smiled to herself like she’d already won. “Well…”, she hummed lightly, straightening again, “You two enjoy the rest of your dinner.” And then she walked away.
Yoongi turned toward you immediately. You could practically see the anxiety and fear hit him in real time. “Y/N…”, he started. “So anyway...”, you picked up your fork calmly and stuffed a potato in your mouth, “You still haven’t answered my question from this morning.”
He blinked, “…What?” You took another bite, “If I were to…adopt a cat…for you…a black one…that we were looking at a few weeks ago…that I may or may not have already put a hold on with the credit card you gave me…what would you name him?”
For a second he just stared at you completely dumbfounded, “You’re not upset?” You looked at him like the answer was obvious, “No?”
“Y/N she just implied…”, he tried to start but you cut him off. “I know what she implied.”, you shrugged lightly, “And I know she’s lying to try and break us apart.” The words hit him hard enough that he actually stopped breathing. You set your fork down then, giving him a softer look, “Yoongi…you…I know you wouldn’t hurt me like that. I trust you.”
His expression changed instantly. Not relief exactly. Something deeper than that. Something almost overwhelmed. “You really believe that?”, he asked quietly. You reached across the table, threading your fingers through his easily, “I do.” Yoongi stared at you for a long moment like he still couldn’t fully process being trusted so completely. Then his thumb brushed slowly across your knuckles.
“I love you.”, he said softly. Your heart squeezed painfully. Not because it surprised you but because it didn’t. You smiled a little, “I know and I love you too.” A helpless laugh escaped him then, warm and disbelieving all at once. Like he still couldn’t believe this was real.
Dinner became even softer after that. He kept looking at you across the table like he’d never seen anything better in his life.
Which was why, twenty minutes later, you nearly choked laughing when you spotted Mia still sitting at a table across the restaurant watching the two of you. “Oh absolutely not.”, you muttered. Yoongi immediately looked suspicious, “What do you have planned?” You stood up, “You’ll see.” He sighed, “Y/N…” His eyes widened when you grabbed your wineglass and started walking toward her.
“Baby.”, he called after you in a weak attempt to stop you but you were already gone.
Mia looked up just as you stopped beside her table. Her expression shifted immediately into smug satisfaction again. “You know Y/N.”, she started smoothly, “This whole time I’ve just been trying to help yoooOOOUU!”
You dumped the entire glass of red wine directly into her lap and all over her white dress. The shriek she let out nearly stopped the entire restaurant. “Oh my god!!!!”, she cried. You smiled sweetly. “Stay far away from us.”, you said calmly, “Maybe find another billionaire to gold dig on because your meddling isn’t working here any more and it’s honestly pretty pathetic.”
Her face turned scarlet. “You bitch!”, she shouted wiping at the wine stain. “Well…yeah probably.”, you cut her off lightly, “But mostly just someone who actually deserves him and cares enough to step in when someone’s trying to ruin him.”
Then you turned and walked away before she could say anything else. The entire restaurant had gone silent. Yoongi was doubled over laughing by the time you made it back to the table. “You are actually insane.”, he breathed between laughs. He stood and had one hand immediately sliding around your waist as he pulled you against him.
“And I think…”, he said, still grinning, “you might actually be the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.” You smirked, “Oh I already know I am.” He kissed your lips, “That confidence is really doing something to me right now.” You laughed just before he kissed you again completely unconcerned with the fact that half the restaurant was still staring.
The two of you started walking towards the exit when Yoongi stopped next to Mia’s table. He reached into his wallet and tossed a handful of money in front of her, “That should be more than enough to cover the dress. It’s clearly a knock-off anyway.” You hid your laugh with a small cough and quickly followed after Yoongi so you wouldn’t be tempted to add fuel to the fire.
“The more I think about it…you’re kind of terrifying when you want to be.”, he said as you walked towards the car. “Good.”, you laughed leaning into him, “Remember that the next time you ever think about pissing me off.”
“Hey now...”, he said opening the car door for you, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Twenty minutes later you stood together outside a tiny late-night ice cream shop on the other side of the city. You looked over at his cone in genuine disbelief, “Seriously…all of those flavors and you went with vanilla?” Yoongi looked offended, “It’s classic.” He narrowed his eyes while you happily took another bite of your own ridiculously overloaded strawberry cheesecake ice cream covered in caramel drizzle and cookie pieces.
“That…”, he pointed at your cone, “Is going to put you in a sugar coma by the end of the night.” You gasped dramatically, “You’re actually judging me after choosing the most basic flavor? We better get you home soon because it’s almost past your bedtime grandpa.” He barked out a laugh loud enough that a couple walking past glanced over.
You grinned before leaning over and stealing a bite of his anyway. Yoongi sighed heavily, “You literally called it boring two seconds ago.” You laughed, “And yet here I am.”
“Yeah and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”, Yoongi squeezed your hand once before glancing over again, “We should probably figure out the cat situation too.” Your entire expression brightened instantly, “I knew you were excited and you weren’t gonna say no.”
“I am not excited.”, he shook his head. You laughed at his denial, “I saw that you already bookmarked luxury cat beds online.”
“That was research for Sir Fuzzy Paws. I think he needs an upgrade.”, he corrected. “You compared cat trees for forty five minutes the night I first mentioned the cat.”, you smiled. He scoffed, “I just thought that maybe I’d get one to have at my place incase Sir Fuzzy Paws ever wants to spend the night.” You laughed, “Suuurrreeee…but I guess that does ALMOST explain why you ordered four of them.” He rolled his eyes but then his expression shifted slightly, something more playful pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh…”, he added casually, taking another bite of his ice cream, “I think I’ll name him Tang. You know like sugar.” You laughed softly, glancing over at him, “That’s actually kind of perfect.”
“Mhm.”, he nodded proudly, completely unaware of where your brain had already gone. Your steps slowed just slightly. You looked up at him through your lashes, lips curving slowly as realization settled in. “Well…”, you said innocently, voice softer now, “I guess that means you’ll have your sugar…and I’ll still get to have my daddy too.”
Yoongi nearly choked. You burst into laughter immediately as he stopped walking altogether, staring at you in complete disbelief while his entire face turned red all the way to the tips of his ears. “Y/N.”, he hissed under his breath looking around the sidewalk like someone might’ve heard you, “You can’t just say stuff like that while we’re in public.”
“What?”, you asked sweetly, taking another lick of your ice cream, “You started it.” He was very visibly flustered now. You leaned a little closer as you walked again, “You’re the one who invited me for brunch and then turned me into a spoiled girl with expensive taste and too much confidence.”
“That is not…”, he cut himself off with a groan before following it up with a pout, “You can’t say stuff like this in public where I can’t absolutely ravage you like I want to.”
“Careful.”, you murmured teasingly, “Don’t get me excited about the thought of it…daddy.” He looked genuinely devastated by that one. And somehow even through the shock, even while hiding his face behind one hand and laughing under his breath, his fingers still found yours automatically. Holding on tighter like he always would now.
You laughed and bumped your shoulder against his as the two of you continued down the glowing city sidewalk together, fingers tangled tightly between yours. And for the first time in a long time, everything felt easy.
What started simply as a way to get a little extra sugar had turned into something infinitely sweeter.
Warnings: Drinking, Sugar Daddying, Swearing, talks of prostitution, maybe a tiny hint of slut shaming?, Sick pet, mentions of vet clinics and surgery, Whore used as an insult, physical fighting, small mention of injuries/blood, extreme poverty, surgeries, cheating
Word Count: 6,479
Sorry it has taken so long for this next chapter. Things have been really busy lately and it’s been hard to find the time or energy. But here it is! A little fluff, a little angst, all leading to something…♥️
Link to other chapters HERE
Chapter 9- Hot chocolate, French Toast, & Red Velvet Cake
The mansion sat just outside the city, tucked into the quiet countryside of France. Soft stone walls, ivy creeping up the sides, tall windows catching the golden light of late afternoon. It was lived-in in a way that felt intentional.
You stepped out of the car slowly, turning in a full circle, “Yoongi…” He watched your reaction carefully, hands in his pockets, “Is it too much?” You shook your head, still taking it all in, “No. It’s…beautiful.” Relief flickered across his face, “I wanted somewhere quiet. Away from everything.”You nodded. That made sense. Still your heart was beating a little faster than usual.
Inside was just as breathtaking. High ceilings, warm wood floors, soft lighting that made everything feel calm instead of overwhelming. Yoongi gave you a small, casual tour of the living room, kitchen, a sunlit dining area that opened into a garden.
Then he led you upstairs. “And this is yours.”, he said, opening a door. You stepped inside. The room was stunning with large windows overlooking the hills of the countryside, soft linens, a cozy armchair tucked into the corner. It was perfect and separate. “Oh…”, you said before you could stop yourself. It was small. Barely noticeable but Yoongi caught it anyway. His expression shifted just slightly. “I thought it might be better…”, he said, “So you’d have your own space and not feel…uncomfortable or anything.” You smiled quickly, “No, yeah. That’s…it’s good. It’s really nice.”
And it was the right choice. Still, as you set your bag down, there was a tiny, quiet part of you that felt…something else. Something you didn’t want to name.
That night was really simple. No grand plans. No itinerary. Just the two of you. You changed into something comfortable, walking downstairs to find Yoongi already in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, a bottle of wine open.
Dinner was easy. Soft conversation. Laughter that came without effort. The kind of quiet that didn’t need to be filled. At one point, you found yourself curled slightly into the couch, your legs tucked beneath you, watching him talk about some random documentary he was watched and it hit you all at once in how…different this felt. No expectations. No pressure. Just him. Just you.
Later, when the wine had warmed your chest and the conversation slowed, you both sat in a comfortable silence. “I’m glad we did this.”, you murmured. Yoongi looked at you over the rim of his glass, “Yeah me too.”
The next morning, Paris awaited and Yoongi had a busy day planned. The city buzzed with life the second you stepped into it. It was everything you imagined. It was beautiful, busy, full of movement and charm. Street musicians, cafés spilling onto sidewalks, the quiet hum of people living their lives.
Yoongi stayed close to you. He took you everywhere. Little streets. Hidden shops. Your eyes widened as he casually led you into a designer store you’d only looked at online.“Yoongi.”, you whispered, grabbing his sleeve slightly, “What are we doing?” He shrugged, “Shopping.” He turned to face you then, expression softening. “It’s not…that.”, he said gently, “It’s not an arrangement. It’s not…I just want to do something for you because I want to. Not because I expect anything.”
“…One thing.”, you said finally, holding up a finger. A small smile tugged at his lips, “We’ll see.”
(It was not one thing.)
By the end of the day, your feet ached, your arms were full, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. The city had softened around you and became less overwhelming but more magical. And somehow, so had he. The sun had dipped low by the time you found yourselves wrapped in coats, hands wrapped around cups of thick hot chocolate from a small stand.
“This might be the best thing I’ve had all day.”, you said after your first sip. He chuckled, “Come on Y/N. One more stop.” You had an idea where he was taking you.
The Eiffel Tower was even more breathtaking up close. Lit up against the night sky, glowing in a way that didn’t feel real. By the time you reached the top, the city stretched endlessly beneath you with lights flickering like stars, the hum of Paris far below. You stepped closer to the railing, breath catching, “Wow…” Yoongi stood beside you, but when you turned, He wasn’t looking at the view. He was looking at you. Your heart skipped. You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. You just looked at each other. And slowly he stepped closer. Close enough that your breath hitched. Close enough that you could feel it. That pull, that quiet, magnetic something that had been building all day.
Your eyes flickered to his lips. Back to his eyes. And then—
“Excuse me!”
You both startled, stepping back just slightly like you were caught doing something wrong. A couple stood nearby, smiling apologetically, holding out a phone, “Could you take a picture of us?” You blinked. Yoongi exhaled quietly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”, he said, taking the phone.
You turned away for a second, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips and the way your heart was still racing. On the ride back, neither of you mentioned it. But the air between you had changed and as the city lights faded behind you, one thought lingered quietly in your chest.
The next day you were excited to go to the little market you’d driven by in the ride in. It sat just down the road, tucked between rows of trees and small stone buildings. It wasn’t anything like the bustling one from your first date. This one was quieter. The kind of place where people greeted each other by name.
You wandered slowly, taking your time. Fresh bread, handmade goods, baskets of fruit. Then you heard it. A soft bleat. Your head snapped toward the small fenced area at the edge of the market. “Oh my god.”, you said, already walking faster, “Yoongi.”
“No.”, he said immediately, already knowing, “No, absolutely not.” You turned back to him with a grin, “You’re coming with me.”
“No I’m not.”, he said firmly, “I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Petunia was one sheep.”, you argued, “You can’t generalize.”
“I absolutely can.”, he shot back, “That was a targeted attack.” You laughed, grabbing his wrist and tugging him along anyway. He stopped just outside the fence, crossing his arms, “I’ll observe from here.” You stepped inside, crouching slightly to pet the sheep, who was unsurprisingly completely gentle. Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the animal like he didn’t trust it for a second. “I’m watching you.”, he muttered. You laughed so hard you nearly lost your balance.
Somehow as the day went on you ended up on a fishing boat. “I’m going to catch dinner.”, Yoongi declared confidently, adjusting the fishing rod like he’d done this a hundred times. You sat across from him, chin resting in your hand, “You? Mister Dior wearing, luxury car driving, 12 step skin care routine billionaire? The same man who almost got taken out by a sheep?”
“That was different.”, he scoffed. You laughed, “mmmhm.” It took exactly ten minutes for things to fall apart. First, his line got tangled. Then, he nearly lost his balance trying to fix it. At one point, the boat rocked just enough that he grabbed onto the side quickly, muttering something under his breath. You were barely holding it together.
“You said you were going to catch dinner.”, you reminded him sweetly. “I am.”, he insisted. “I’m pretty sure the bait is starting to get bored.”, you pointing at the very still line. He shot you a look, “You’re enjoying this too much.” Two hours later and nothing. Not a single fish. Not even a nibble. Yoongi stared out at the water like he was looking for a way to terminate its contract. You laughed, “Maybe the sheep alerted the fish that you were coming.” He sighed, setting the rod down, “We’re going back. I’m over it.”
On the walk back through the market, you were still smiling. “I can’t believe you almost fell off the boat.”, you said, “I bet those fish have never seen a Gucci shirt up close before.”
“I didn’t almost fall.”, he rolled his eyes before stopping at one of the stalls. “I’m still making dinner.”, he said, pulling out his wallet. You watched as he carefully picked out fresh fish, handing over cash like nothing had happened. “Oh, I see.”, you said slowly, “You did catch dinner. Just…with your wallet instead. That’s kind of liek your thing.” He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head, “You’re never letting any of this go, are you?” “Never.”, you smiled brightly.
Dinner turned out perfect anyway. Yoongi moved around the kitchen with ease, plating everything carefully while you lingered nearby, stealing bites when you thought he wasn’t looking. He saw but didn’t say anything.
The storm rolled in slowly. You didn’t notice it at first. It was just the distant sound of thunder, the faint shift in the air.
Then the lights flickered.
Once. Twice. And then…
Darkness.
You froze, “Yoongi?”
“I’m here.” he said immediately to ease you.
You heard some shuffling. Then a soft click. Another. Warm light bloomed around the room as he lit a few candles, then a few more, until the space was filled with a soft, golden glow.
The rain started soon after, tapping gently against the windows. It felt quiet like the world had pulled back just enough to leave the two of you alone in it. You sat across from each other at first. Then closer as a slight nighttime chill creeped in. “You okay?”, he asked quietly. You nodded, your voice softer now, “Yeah. This is actually kind of nice.” He glanced around at the candles, then back at you., “Yeah it is.”
The silence settled again but this time, it felt different. “Y/N…I’m scared…I don’t want to mess this up.”, he said suddenly surprising both it you. You looked at him. “You’re not.”, you said softly. Then you shifted just slightly closer, “Yoongi…”
He leaned in slowly like he was still giving you time to stop him. You didn’t. Your lips met gently at first. Soft. Careful and then deeper. His hand found your waist, steadying you as you leaned into him, your fingers curling lightly into his shirt.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t overwhelming. It was everything it needed to be. When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested lightly against his. Neither of you spoke right away. You didn’t need to.
As the night went on the storm didn’t let up. If anything, it grew louder and stronger with rain hitting the windows harder now, wind threading through the trees with a low, restless sound that made the whole house seem to shift. Your room, as beautiful as it was, suddenly felt too cold. You sat on the edge of the bed for a while, listening. The distant rumble of thunder. The soft flicker of candlelight casting shifting shadows along the walls.
You told yourself you were fine. You told yourself to just lie down, close your eyes, wait it out. You lasted maybe five minutes. With a quiet exhale, you pushed yourself up, grabbing the edge of the blanket around your shoulders before stepping into the hallway. The floor was cool beneath your feet, the house dim except for the faint glow of candlelight somewhere further down.
You got to his door. You hesitated. Then you knocked softly. There was a brief pause before his voice came, low and familiar, “Come in.” You opened the door just enough to peek inside. He was sitting up in bed, one of the candles on his nightstand casting a warm glow across his face, softening the edges of him. His expression shifted the second he saw you. Surprise first, then something gentler. Concern, maybe, “Hey…Y/N are you okay?” You nodded quickly, stepping in just a little, fingers tightening slightly around the blanket, “Yeah. I just…”, you let out a small, almost embarrassed breath, “The storm’s kind of…loud.”
His gaze softened immediately. You hesitated again, then forced yourself to just say it before you could talk yourself out of it. “Can I…”, you paused, glancing down for a second before looking back at him, “Can I sleep in here? With you?” There was no hesitation on his part. “Of course.”, he said, almost too comically fast, already shifting pulling the covers back without a second thought, “Yeah, of course. Come here.”
Something in your chest eased instantly. You slipped inside. The mattress dipped as you settled on the far side at first, leaving a small, polite space between you. For a second, neither of you spoke. The storm filled the silence again but it didn’t feel as heavy now. “You don’t have to stay all the way over there, you know.”, he murmured after a moment, voice softer now, almost teasing but not quite. You huffed a quiet laugh, shifting just slightly closer, “I’m not that far.”
“Mmmmhm.”, he replied, not sounding convinced. Then, slowly, he reached over hesitant, like he was still asking permission without words and gently tugged the edge of the blanket higher around your shoulders.
You stilled for just a second at the contact. The space between you didn’t last much longer. A small shift. Then another. Until your arm brushed his. Until your shoulder rested lightly against his side. Until it felt natural. His hand hovered for a second before settling carefully at your waist light, warm and steady like he was grounding you rather than pulling you in.
The thunder cracked again, louder this time. Without thinking, you moved closer. He didn’t comment on it. Didn’t tease you. He just adjusted slightly, letting you tuck in against him, his arm settling more securely around you now. “I’ won’t let anything happen to you.”, he murmured, so quiet you almost missed it.
Your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his shirt. The storm kept going. But somewhere between one breath and the next, it faded into the background. And for the first time in a while you fell asleep feeling completely, impossibly comfortable and safe.
Morning came quietly. The storm had softened into a gentle drizzle, the kind that tapped lightly against the windows. Pale light slipped through the curtains, washing the room in soft gray.
You woke slowly. Warmth pressed against you. It was solid and steady. For a second, you didn’t move, your mind still catching up to your body and then you felt it. His arm around your waist. Your leg tangled with his. Your cheek resting just barely against his shoulder. Your breath hitched, not in panic just in awareness. Carefully, you tilted your head up. Yoongi was still asleep. His features softened in a way you didn’t see when he was awake, tension gone, lashes resting low against his cheeks. His hair was slightly messy, falling into his eyes, and his grip on you, loose, but protective tightened just slightly when you shifted. Like even asleep, he didn’t want to let go.
Your chest tightened. Slowly and gently, you eased yourself out of his hold, careful not to wake him. It took a second, his arm resisting just enough to make your heart stutter, but eventually, you slipped free. He didn’t wake. Just shifted slightly into the space you left behind. You lingered for a second. Just looking at him. Then you shook it off softly and slipped out of the room.
You moved through your routine slowly, washing your face, brushing your hair, trying not to think too hard about the way your body still felt warm where he’d been. Trying not to think about how easy it had been. How right it had felt.
You were halfway through getting ready when you heard it. A faint vibration. You paused. It came again. His phone had been left on the bathroom counter. The phone lit up again. You glanced at it. You shouldn’t have. A message preview sat on the screen.
From Mia.
Your stomach tightened slightly at the name alone and then your eyes caught the text.
—
I heard you’re in Paris…with her.
Just tell her the truth this time, Yoongi.
A few weeks in the countryside, a little attention, and she’ll think it’s real.
You said the same things to me. Hopefully she’s smart enough not to fall for it too.
You went still. Completely still. The room didn’t change. Nothing moved. The warmth from earlier, the softness, the quiet comfort unraveled.
Your eyes flickered back to him. Still asleep. Still peaceful. Still looking like someone who had held you like you mattered. Your chest tightened. Because now there was a crack in it. A small one. But enough. Enough to let doubt slip in. Enough to make everything from last night feel uncertain.
You swallowed, stepping back quietly. The phone dimmed. The room fell still again. And just like that something that had felt steady…didn’t anymore. You didn’t say anything. Because if you did, your voice would give you away and you didn’t even know what you were feeling yet. Hurt, yes. But mixed with doubt, embarrassment, anger. So you swallowed it.
By the time Yoongi woke up, you were already downstairs. He noticed something was off immediately. You were standing by the stove, back half-turned, focused a little too hard on the French toast you were tending to in the pan.
“Y/N.,”, his voice came, still rough with sleep. You glanced up briefly, “Morning.” He paused just slightly. “Morning…”, he echoed, slower this time like he was trying to place something that felt off. You didn’t look at him again. Didn’t smile the way you had yesterday. Didn’t tease him about the storm or the way he’d held you like you belonged there next to him.
You just picked up your mug. Took a sip. Tried to act busy, neutral, distant. Yoongi frowned faintly, stepping closer, “Have you been up long?”
“Not really.”, you shook your head. He leaned his hip against the counter, watching you a little more carefully now, “You sleep okay?”
Your grip tightened slightly around the mug “Yeah.”, you said, still not meeting his eyes, “It was fine.” He pushed off the counter slightly. “Did I…”, he stopped himself, exhaling softly before trying again, “Did something happen?” You shook your head immediately, “Nope.”
“Then what is it?”, he pressed, not harsh, but slightly irritated, “You’re acting like…”
“Like what?”, you cut in, finally looking at him. Yoongi stilled. “…Like you’re pulling away from me again.”, he finished quietly.
Your chest tightened because he wasn’t wrong.“I’m not.”, you lied, softer now, but it didn’t sound convincing not even to you. He held your gaze for a second longer, searching. Trying to figure you out. Trying to find where he’d gone wrong but not finding anything.
“…Okay.”, he said finally. But it wasn’t agreement. It was restraint from not wanting to further the anger. He stepped back just slightly, giving you space you hadn’t asked for but were clearly taking and that hurt too.
The rest of the morning felt just as uncomfortable. The easy laughter from the first few days didn’t come as naturally. The little touches were absent. The way you used to lean into him without thinking was gone.
And Yoongi noticed all of it but he didn’t push again. He just watched you a little more closely like he was waiting for you to come back to him.
And you wanted to. That was the part you hated the most. You wanted to step back into it like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t seen that message. Like it didn’t echo in the back of your mind every time he looked at you too softly.
You said the same things to me.
Your chest tightened again. Because now every word he said…
Every look…
Every touch…
Carried a question you couldn’t shake and no matter how much you tried to ignore it…
Yoongi tried anyway. By the time you stepped out onto the back terrace later that morning, the air still cool from the storm, he was already there. Two cups sat on the small table between the chairs.
Your coffee. Made exactly how you liked it.
You paused. “You didn’t have to…”, you started. “I know.”, he said quietly, sliding one of the cups toward you anyway, “I wanted to.”
You nodded, sitting down across from him, wrapping your hands around the cup like it could anchor you. He watched you over the rim of his own cup, eyes narrowing just slightly. “You’ve been very quiet Y/N.”, he said after a moment.
“I’m just tired.”, you lied. You both knew it but he let it sit there.
Later, you found yourselves back in the small market. It should have felt the same but it didn’t.You walked beside him instead of into him. Your hands brushed once accidentally. You pulled away first. Yoongi noticed. His jaw tightened just slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached out, picking up a small jar from one of the stalls.
Apricot jam.
“Try this.”, he said, holding it out toward you with one of those small wooden spoons. You hesitated. Then leaned in anyway, tasting it. It was sweet. Subtle. You nodded, “It’s good.” He smiled faintly, “Yeah. Thought you’d like it.” Then he added, “I remembered that you always order those apricot cookies from the bakery by your apartment.”
Your throat tightened. For a split second you almost let yourself fall back into it.
But then you saw the words…
You said the same things to me.
You stepped back slightly. “We should keep moving.”, you said, too quick. His smile faded, “… Right. But for the first time he didn’t follow as closely.
It happened again that afternoon. You were back at the house, the rain long gone now, sunlight filtering through the windows like nothing had ever been wrong.
Yoongi was in the kitchen cooking dinner. You leaned in the doorway, arms crossed lightly, watching him move. It should have felt comforting. Instead, it felt like watching something you weren’t sure belonged to you anymore.
He glanced up, catching you there, “You just gonna stand there and look pretty or are you going to help?” There it was. A little tease. A little normal. You forced a small smile, “You seem like you’ve got it handled.”
“Mmmhmm.”, he hummed, turning back to the stove, “I always do.”
“Yeah…you always do.”, you repeated quietly. He glanced back at you, brow furrowing slightly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”, you said quickly.
And then his phone buzzed. On the counter. Right between you. Your eyes flicked to it before you could stop yourself.
Mia. Again.
This time, Yoongi saw it happen. Saw the exact second your expression changed. Saw the way your shoulders stiffened. The way your gaze dropped immediately after. His attention snapped to the phone. Then back to you and something clicked.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”, he grumbled under his breath. You stepped back, “I’m going…”,
“Y/N.”, he cut in, with a bite this time, “Don’t.” You froze. Slowly, you looked back at him. He was already reaching for the phone, unlocking it quickly, eyes scanning the screen. His jaw tightened.
He set the phone down a little harder than necessary, then looked at you fully. “I saw that she said…”, you started, then stopped yourself. He waited. You shook your head, “It doesn’t matter.”
“It clearly does.”, he snapped, frustration slipping through now, “You’ve been pulling away from me all day because of it.”
“I’m not pulling away.”, you weakly defended yourself. “You won’t even look at me.”, he cut in, voice sharper now, “You can barely be in the same room as me. So yeah, you are.”
“She said…”, you forced out finally, voice quieter now, “that you’ve done this before. That you take someone somewhere like this and…”, your voice faltered slightly despite yourself, “and make it feel real. Like you actually care. It’s…it’s just like a game to you…or a way to make sure they stay as an option.”
The words hung there. Yoongi stared at you. Not defensive. Not angry. Just…stunned. “That’s what you think this is?”, he asked finally, voice lower now. “I don’t know what this is.”, you admitted, and that was the most honest thing you’d said all day, “…That’s the problem.”
“You think I flew you out here. Personally planned an entire trip to your liking.”, he said slowly, stepping closer, “just to…what? Play house for a week?”
“I didn’t say that…”, you tried but he cut you off. “You didn’t have to Y/N. And instead of talking to me.”, he continued, voice tight now, “You just decided she’s right?” Your chest tightened, “I didn’t decide anything, I just…”,
“You pulled away.”, he said, “You shut me out over something she said without even giving me a chance to explain.”
“That’s not fair…”, you tried to say. “No.”, he snapped, a flash hurt maybe anger breaking through now, “What’s not fair is you acting like last night didn’t mean anything because of her. Because of the person I’ve repeatedly told you to stay away from because she’s evil. But you trust her over me.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “You want the truth?”, he said finally, quieter now. You didn’t answer. He stepped closer anyway. Close enough that it felt like last night for just a second. Before everything got complicated.
“I did take her somewhere like this.”, he admitted. Your heart dropped. “But it wasn’t like this.”, he added immediately, “I took her to Italy. I was desperate to try and save our relationship. I thought I could force her to love me instead of my money.”, he laughed to himself, “Funnily enough it completely went to shit when I saw text messages between her and some guy she was cheating on me with. I ended things and flew back home that day. She never forgave me for taking that opportunity away from her so she’s tried to sabotaged any relationship I’ve tried to have since.”
Your breath caught. “And if you think I’d go through all of this…”, he gestured around you, frustration still there but threaded with something more vulnerable now, “Just to fake it? Just to get you in bed? Keep you on the back burner for when I have no other options?” He shook his head, “Y/N that’s not me. I could have women lined up for all of that for less than half the effort I’ve put in. I wouldn’t put this much of myself into a relationship with someone I wasn’t in love with.”
You felt numb. Your breathing stopped. Yoongi stepped back first like he couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud. Just enough to put space between you again.
You opened your mouth, wanting to say something, anything, but he beat you to it. “I…need a minute.”, he said taking another step back. He turned away before you could answer, dragging a hand through his hair as he moved toward staircase. The sound of his steps getting louder as they moved farther away. Then he was gone.
You stood there alone for a long moment. The kitchen still smelled like dinner. His phone still sat on the counter. Everything looked exactly the same. But the warmth that had filled the room since the storm was gone now, replaced with something aching and awkward and sharp around the edges.
Your chest tightened painfully because the worst part wasn’t the argument. It was the look on his face when he realized you believed her even after everything he’d done to try and prove you otherwise.
Later that night Yoongi stood near the railing of the terrace, shoulders tense. You hesitated in the doorway.l Then stepped outside anyway, “Yoongi…”
He didn’t turn around immediately. When he finally did, his expression had smoothed out too much. Like he’d shoved everything down somewhere you couldn’t reach and didn’t intend to bring it back up again.
“You don’t have to apologize.”, he said before you could speak. Your stomach twisted, “I was going to.” He gave a small shrug, eyes drifting away from you again, “It’s fine.” It very obviously wasn’t. You moved a little closer, “I didn’t mean to look at your phone.” He nodded, “I know.”
“And I didn’t want to believe her.”, you added. That made him glance at you again. Only briefly though. “But you did.”, he said quietly. The words hit hard because he wasn’t trying to hurt you with them. He was hurt too. “I got scared.”, you admitted softly. Something flickered across his face then of frustration, sadness, maybe both.
“Of me?”, he asked. “No.”, you said immediately, “Of this.” His jaw tightened slightly as he looked back out toward the hills, “You know what the shitty part is Y/N?” You stayed quiet. “I think I would’ve understood if you yelled at me.”, a humorless laugh left him quietly, “Or got angry. Or threw something at my head, honestly.” Despite everything, your lips twitched faintly. But his didn’t.
“You pulling away like that?”, he continued, voice lower now, “Acting like last night suddenly didn’t matter…like we didn’t feel something…have something between us.” He swallowed once, “That…fucking sucked.”
The honesty of it made your chest ache. You stepped closer again, slowly enough to give him room to move away if he wanted. He didn’t but he didn’t lean toward you either. He finally looked at you fully again, “You thought the worst before you thought of me.” You remained silent because he was right and there wasn’t really a defense for that.
The wind shifted softly between you, cool against your skin. Yoongi looked tired suddenly. “I’ve spent this entire trip…the last couple months really…trying to make you see what we would be. Trying to make sure you never felt pressured.”, he said quietly. “Trying to make you comfortable. Trying to make sure you felt safe with me.”
“You do make me feel safe.”, you cut in quickly. His eyes searched yours for a second, like he wanted to believe that. “But not enough apparently.”, he murmured. Your throat tightened instantly, “Yoongi…”
“No, it’s okay.”, he interrupted gently, and somehow that gentleness hurt worse than anger would’ve, “I get it now.” You shook your head.”, That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it Y/N?”, he asked softly. You froze because there was an answer. But that answer still scared you. The pause went on too long. A faint nod left him, small and almost resigned “Right..”, he said quietly, “We can finally just stop whatever…this is.”
Then he stepped around you and went back into the house. Leaving you standing there alone on the terrace with the sinking realization that for the first time since this trip started he was the one pulling away now.
The last night in Paris arrived too quickly and somehow not quickly enough. The distance between you and Yoongi never turned into a full fight again but it lingered in smaller ways instead. Quiet pauses. Almost touches that never fully happened. Conversations that stayed light even when both of you were clearly thinking about something heavier underneath.
He was still kind. Still attentive. That made it worse. Because now there was caution in him too. Like he was trying not to want too much from you.
That morning, Yoongi mentioned he was going to go into the city for a few hours. To see a business partner. You nodded from where you sat at the kitchen island, “Okay.” His gaze lingered on you for just a second longer than necessary, like maybe he wanted you to say something else. Then he was gone.
You stared down at your coffee for a long moment before suddenly pushing your chair back. No. You weren’t ending this trip like this.
Paris buzzed around you as you moved through the city alone. It felt much bigger by yourself. You wandered from little shop to little shop carrying far more than you probably should have. Fresh oranges. Cream. Butter. And flowers.
You paused outside one tiny florist shop with peonies spilling out onto the sidewalk and found yourself thinking something ridiculous.
I bet nobody has ever bought him flowers.
The thought stuck with you.
Because Yoongi was always the one giving things. Providing things. You wondered if anyone had ever looked at him and thought:
I want to make you feel loved too.
So you bought them. Soft cream-colored roses mixed with pale wildflowers that reminded you of the countryside around the mansion.
You felt a little stupid carrying them afterward but not enough to put them back.
At one point, standing in the middle of a grocery aisle completely overwhelmed, you pulled out your phone.
To Jungkook: Important question.
The reply came almost immediately.
Jungkook: No I will not lie to authorities about your whereabouts if you murdered Yoongi.
Despite yourself, you smiled faintly.
You: What’s Yoongi’s favorite dessert?
Three typing bubbles appeared instantly. Then disappeared. Then reappeared.
Jungkook: …why
You: Jungkook.👿
Jungkook: Okay okay 😭 It’s red velvet cake. He’s a simple man like that.
A couple hours later, the kitchen and you looked like a disaster had come through. There was cocoa powder on the counter, flour all over your shirt, and you were fairly certain you’d forgotten half the sugar and ruined the cake. You almost burned the potatoes roasting in the oven and you overcooked the steaks just a bit.
But eventually it came together. It wasn’t perfect but you did your best. You arranged the flowers in a vase afterward, setting them carefully in the center of the dining table.
You heard the front door open just after sunset. Your stomach flipped instantly. “Im home.”, Yoongi called from the entryway.“In here.”, you answered, trying and failing to sound normal. There were footsteps and when he stepped into the dining room he stopped. For a second, he just stared.
At the table. The flowers. The food. Then finally at you. You suddenly felt unbearably nervous.
“I made dinner and I bought you flowers. I know it’s probably not as good as…”, you started but he cut you off, “You bought me flowers?”
You blinked away the embarrassment. His eyes were still fixed on them like he genuinely couldn’t process it.
“…Yeah.”, you said slowly, “I just thought…”
“No one’s ever bought me flowers before.”, he chuckled softly. Yoongi walked closer slowly, gaze flicking over the arrangement again carefully. “They reminded me of you.”, you admitted before you could stop yourself. And there it was again…That look. That devastatingly soft look he only ever seemed to get around you. The one that made it impossible to breathe normally. “You made all of this?”, he asked quietly. You nodded once, “I wanted too.” The same words he’d said to you before.
Recognition flickered across his face immediately and for the first time in days some of the distance lessened. His gaze drifted toward the cake with the slightly melting frosting at the edge of the table, “Wait…” You groaned softly, “Don’t judge it yet. Jungkook told me your favorite dessert is red velvet cake and he said it was simple but apparently not simple enough for me.”
“You asked Jungkook?”, he laughed. “You’re impossible to judge when it comes to sugary confections.”, you defended immediately. That earned another laugh which you had to admit felt good.
Yoongi looked at you for a long moment after that. Then finally asked, voice gentler now, “Why’d you do all this?” Your chest tightened because there were a hundred answers but only one real one. You stepped closer slowly. “Because I hurt you.”, you said honestly, “And I hated it.” The amusement faded from his expression immediately, replaced with something quieter. He looked more vulnerable.
“Y/N I didn’t need all this.”, he shook his head. “I know.”, you said, “But I needed you to know that I see you for who you are…and I love you.”
That hit him. You could actually see it happen. The way his expression faltered slightly. The way his shoulders loosened like he’d been carrying something heavy all week. Yoongi looked at you for so long after the words left your mouth that your heartbeat started to stutter beneath the silence. And then he laughed softly. Not because it was funny. It sounded a little like relief.
His hand lifted slowly, fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before resting against your cheek. “You love me?”, he asked quietly. You smiled despite yourself, “You seem surprised.”
“I am.”, he admitted honestly, “You’re way too good for someone like me.” That ache in your chest deepened at the vulnerability in his voice. Yoongi wasn’t the kind of person who admitted things easily but he was looking at you like he’d give you the world.
“You make it really hard not to.”, you whispered. His eyes closed briefly at that like the words physically hit him somewhere deep. Then he pulled you into him. You barely had time to breathe before his arms wrapped around you completely, solid and warm and safe. Your face pressed into his chest as he held you tighter than he ever had before. Unwilling to let distance exist between you anymore.
“Y/N I don’t think you understand what you do to me.”, he murmured into your hair. Your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his sweater, “I could probably say the same thing about you.”
A quiet hum left him. Amused and a little affectionate. For a while neither of you moved away from each other. The candles flickered softly around the room. Dinner sat forgotten on the table. The cake was a long forgotten tragedy.
Everything felt still. Until Yoongi leaned back just enough to look at you again and the expression on his face made your stomach flip instantly. His thumb brushed slowly across your cheekbone, “Y/N…”
The way he said your name this time felt different. Like a question. Like he was filled with restraint. Like he was standing at the edge of something and waiting to see if you’d meet him there too.
The way his hands rested on your waist. The way his gaze kept flickering to your lips before forcing itself back to your eyes. His throat bobbed slightly. Like he was holding himself back by sheer force at this point.
“Tell me to stop.”, he murmured softly. You knew he didn’t really want you to. The terrifying part was that you didn’t want to either. Your fingers curled lightly against his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm. For a second neither of you moved. Neither of you looked away. Then slowly you leaned closer.
Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence, Yandere themes, Stockholm Syndrome, kidnapping, fighting, extreme obsession, stalking, little bit of smut, breeding kink-ish but not just a kink…
Word Count: 12,717
Took a small break from Sweet On You to work on this request I received a while ago. Thank you to the requester! This does include a lot of OT7 as requested, but I did lean into writing it Yoongi centered because I’m most confident with that so I hope that’s okay. Yandere and mafia tropes are not my strongest so I hope you like it and it’s what you were looking for! ♥️
Sweet On You will be returning next and they will be going to Paris…
When you first started as a journalist you went by the pen name Canary. It was a bit silly and a bit on the nose. The bird in the coal mine, singing until the air turned toxic. You were young and inexperienced but fearless, and arguably reckless, digging into the kind of dirt that made powerful men lose their sleep. You thought you were untouchable because you were invisible. You thought you were surviving on your own wits, narrowly dodging "accidental" car trouble or mysterious figures in the shadows through sheer luck. You didn't realize that luck had a name.
For years, while you were busy being Canary, he was the silence behind the noise. He was the reason the threats never turned into actions. The reason the doors that should have been locked to you were left ajar. He had been protecting you from dangers you didn't even know existed, watching over your career from the high-rise perches of a world you were only beginning to scratch the surface of. He let you be brave because he was making sure you stayed alive to be reckless. But eventually, the bird had to come out of the mine. Eventually, the protector wanted to be seen.
You had imagined this moment a hundred different ways. None of them looked like this though. No guards dragging you in. No dark, smoke-filled room. No immediate sense of danger pressing against your throat.
Instead he asked, “Coffee?” The question caught you off guard. You blinked, fingers tightening slightly around your notebook as you looked across the table at him. Min Yoongi, he didn’t look like a man people feared, not at first glance at least. He sat comfortably across from you in a quiet, upscale lounge tucked into the corner of a high-rise building downtown. Soft lighting, low music, the faint clink of glassware in the distance. Nothing about this was normal.
You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to refocus, “I’m fine, thank you.” A small nod. No pressure, “Suit yourself.” His voice was low, calm in a way that made it hard to read. You’d spent months chasing this.
Bangtan.
A name whispered more than spoken. A network that didn’t officially exist but somehow touched everything in business, politics, and crime. Untouchable. Untraceable. And sitting in front of you was their leader. Agreeing to an interview. It didn’t make sense. Which meant there was a reason. You just hadn’t figured it out yet.
“You said you had questions.”, Yoongi said, leaning back slightly in his chair, eyes settling on you with quiet focus, “You should probably ask them.” You swallowed, flipping open your notebook, pen poised even though your pulse had started to pick up. “Your organization.”, you began carefully, “has been connected to multiple…”
“Alleged connections.”, he corrected softly. You paused, “Alleged connections to several high-profile incidents. Care to comment?” A faint flicker of something crossed his face, “Not particularly.” Your lips pressed together. You expected resistance. You could work with resistance. You shifted tactics. “Then why agree to this interview at all if you’re not going to talk?”, you asked, meeting his gaze directly now, “You’ve avoided press for years. Why meet with me?”
For a moment, he didn’t answer. Just watched you. “Y/N I’m a big fan of your work.”, he said finally. Your breath caught just slightly. That wasn’t the answer you expected. “And?”, you prompted. “And you’re different.”, the words landed heavier than they should have. You frowned slightly, “Different how?”
“You don’t write for attention or drama.”, he said, “You write like you’re trying to understand something. Like you care about the story from the beginning not just the outcome.” Your pen stilled. That was accurate. Too accurate. A small shift happened in your chest. You leaned forward slightly, “Understanding requires truth. Something your organization isn’t exactly known for providing.” For a second, you thought you had gone too far but instead of irritation Yoongi smiled. Just enough to change the entire atmosphere between you. “Careful.”, he murmured, “That almost sounded like an accusation without proof.”
“Is it wrong?”, you challenged and for a moment, everything else, the lounge, the quiet music, the city beyond the glass windows, faded into the background. “Tell me.”, he said instead of answering, voice quieter now, “if you find the truth… what are you going to do with it?” The question threw you off. “That’s my job.”, you replied, “I publish it for public knowledge.”
“Even if it puts you in danger?”, he questioned. You felt uneasy but you nodded, “Yes.” Something in his expression shifted again, “You’re either very brave…or very reckless.”
He reached forward, slow, deliberate, and slid something across the table toward you. Your breath caught as you looked down. It was a file that was thin and unmarked. Your fingers hovered over it. “What is this?”, you asked cautiously. “Information.”, he shrugged. Your eyes snapped back up to his, “On Bangtan?” Another faint smile, “On some things you haven’t found yet.”
Your heart started to pound. This was it. A lead. Maybe the big one. Every instinct told you to be careful. Every ambition you had told you to take it. “Why give this to me?”, you asked. Because you knew nothing about this was free. Yoongi leaned back again, watching you with that same quiet intensity. “Because I’m curious.”, he said. Your brows furrowed, “About what?”
“You.”, he answered simply. Your stomach tightened. Your fingers closed around the file before you could second-guess it. This was what you came for. This was the story. You’d handle the rest later. You stood slowly, gathering your things, forcing yourself to stay composed even as something in the air felt different now. “Thank you for your time Mr. Min.”, you said. You turned to leave when you heard his voice, “Be careful with that. You don’t want someone dangerous coming after you.”
You paused. Glanced back over your shoulder. Yoongi hadn’t moved. But his eyes were still on you. “Information like that…”, he continued softly, “has a way of pulling people deeper than they intend.” A small chill ran down your spine, “I can handle myself.” For a second something almost dark flickered behind his gaze. Gone as quickly as it appeared. “I know.”, he said and that didn’t feel reassuring at all. You didn’t notice it at the time. The way this wasn’t just an interview. The way you hadn’t just gotten a lead but you had been chosen.
And as you stepped out into the city, heart still racing from the encounter, already planning your next move, Yoongi remained exactly where he was. Watching the space you left behind. Quiet. Certain. Like a man who had just set something in motion. Something that wouldn’t be easy to stop.
🐦⬛
You shouldn’t have come back to him. You knew that. You told yourself that at least six times on the ride over. Told yourself this wasn’t how you worked, that you didn’t meet sources twice without verification, without full control.
But the file…It was real. Every name, every transaction, every quiet connection you’d spent months trying to trace…it was all there. Which meant one thing. Min Yoongi wasn’t bluffing and if he wasn’t bluffing…Then why give it to you so easily?
That question sat heavy in your chest as you stepped into the same lounge as before, the same low lighting, the same quiet hum of a place that didn’t feel like it belonged to the world outside. He was already there. Same seat. Same posture. Same stillness that somehow made everything else feel louder. Your breath caught for just a second before you forced yourself forward. “You came back.”, he said, like it wasn’t a surprise. You slid into the seat across from him, placing your bag down carefully, “I had questions.” A faint shift at the corner of his mouth, “I assumed you would.”
“You gave me verified information on at least three major investigations.”, you said, leaning forward slightly, “Do you understand what that could do if I publish it?” His gaze didn’t waver, “Yes.” Your brows pulled together, “Then why?” There it was again. The question that didn’t have a clean answer. Yoongi watched you for a long moment , long enough that your pulse started to pick up under the weight of it.
Then, quietly he asked, “Did you read all of it?” Your stomach tightened, “yes.” A small tilt of his head, “And?” You hesitated because the truth wasn’t simple. “It doesn’t paint you as…careless.”, you admitted, “Everything is calculated like you knew exactly what you were doing every step of the way.”
Something about the way he looked at you, so calm, so matter-of-fact, sent a subtle chill down your spine. “You’re not worried about exposure?”, you pressed. “No.”, he shrugged, “Because you won’t publish it.” Your breath hitched. “And you’re so sure of that?”, you asked, trying to keep your tone steady. “I am.”, he nodded. Your fingers tightened slightly against the table. Silence hung between you because a part of you wanted to argue and another part, a quieter, more unsettling part wondered why he sounded so certain. You pushed past it. “I don’t work for you.”, you said firmly. He nodded, “I know.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”, you added and he smirked, “I know.” Your frustration spiked, “Then stop acting like you already know what I’m going to do!” Something flickered in his expression again. Not irritation. Not anger. Something…oddly warmer. “Alright.”, he said softly, “Then tell me…If you publish it,” he continued, “what happens next?” You opened your mouth and paused because you knew the answer. Investigations. Arrests. Chaos. Retaliation from people who would all be affected. People getting hurt. Maybe you. Definitely you. Your silence said enough. Yoongi didn’t push. He just watched you reach that conclusion on your own. Your jaw tightened, “That doesn’t change anything.”
“No.”, he agreed, “It just makes it harder.” Your chest felt tight. You hated this. Hated the way he wasn’t forcing you into anything, just laying things out until you had to face them yourself.
“You’re manipulating me.”, you said. He smirked his eyes not leaving yours, “Am I?…is it working?” Damn him. You looked away first. That was your mistake because the second you did the tension shifted. When you looked back he was leaning closer. Your pulse jumped. “Careful Y/N…”,he murmured, voice lower now, “You’re starting to hesitate.” Your heart pounded, “I’m thinking.” He leaned in even closer, “…About me.” It wasn’t a question.
Now there was no ignoring it. No pretending this was just an interview anymore. Something was shifting and you didn’t like how it felt or how much you didn’t want it to stop. And it didn’t happen all at once. If it did you would’ve seen it for what it was and pulled away before it got complicated. Instead it happened in pieces. Small ones. The kind you could justify.
The third time you met him, it wasn’t for an interview. Not officially anyway. You told yourself it was follow-up. Clarification because you needed more context. That was all. But the second you sat across from Yoongi again it didn’t feel like work.
“Eat.”, he said pointing at the plate in front of you. You blinked, glancing down, “I didn’t order…” he cut you off, “I did. I know you left home without eating this morning.” You looked back up at him. It should’ve unsettled you that he knew that. It did but not enough to make you leave. That was the problem.
The fourth time he walked you out of your office. You hadn’t asked him to. He just showed up and did it. Side by side, quiet city air brushing against your skin as the night stretched around you. “You shouldn’t be out this late alone.”, he said. You scoffed lightly, “I’ve been doing this a long time. I can take care of myself.”, you added. “I’m aware.”, the way he said it. It didn’t sound like doubt. It sounded like he’d seen it. Tested it even. Your pulse skipped.
The fifth time…he touched you. Nothing dramatic. Nothing obvious. Just your wrist. Light. Brief. Enough to stop you mid-sentence. You looked down at where his fingers rested against your skin then back up at him.
He didn’t move right away. Didn’t apologize.Didn’t acknowledge it at all. Just watched you like he was waiting but you didn’t pull away.
After that, it got easier. Too easy. You started staying longer. Talking about things that had nothing to do with the article. Laughing at things he said. Forgetting sometimes, who he was supposed to be. The violence he was capable of. You also forgot who you were supposed to be. You told yourself it was strategy. Getting closer. Gaining trust. Getting the real story.
But late at night when you weren’t with him you found yourself thinking about the way his voice softened when he said your name. The way his attention never wavered. The way you felt seen and…safe with him. And that was dangerous. More dangerous than anything in that file. Because you didn’t notice the shift in him. Not right away. Not when he started choosing where you met or when your schedule somehow always aligned with his without you telling him or when he began deciding things for you instead of asking. It was subtle. Wrapped in concern. In care. In something that felt a little too close to affection.
“You trust me.”, he said one evening as you looked out over the water from the pier. The words came out of nowhere, quiet between you as the city lights flickered. You hesitated, “I don’t trust easily.” A small hum, “But you trust me.”, he said again. You looked at him and realized you didn’t have an immediate argument.
Your silence stretched and that was all the answer he needed. Something in his expression softened. Like that confirmation meant more than it should have. “Good.”, he said quietly. Your chest tightened. You didn’t ask why or what he meant. Maybe you should have because by the time you started to feel it, that pull toward him, that warmth, that dangerous comfort, he was already past that point. Already deeper. Already thinking further ahead than you were. Further than you could even imagine.
And somewhere, without you realizing it this stopped being your story and started becoming his. You didn’t mean to end up there. That’s what you told yourself later, over and over again. That it was coincidence. That it wasn’t intentional. But deep down…you knew that wasn’t true.
”I want you to see something.”, Yoongi had said earlier that evening, voice quiet, unreadable as always. You should’ve said no but you didn’t.
The car ride had been silent and when the gates finally opened your breath stopped. The mansion wasn’t just big. It was imposing. Modern architecture carved into the dark, glass and stone reflecting the dim glow of the surrounding lights. It didn’t feel like a home. It felt like a statement. Like power, built into walls.
“You live here?”, you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you stepped out of the car. Yoongi glanced at you, “Sometimes.” Inside your footsteps echoed faintly as you followed him in, your senses sharpening with every step. “You’re tense.”, he noted. “I’m in an infamously violent mafia leader’s house.”, you shot back, “What did you expect?” A faint flicker of amusement crossed his face, “That’s fair.” The words barely left his lips before you heard it, “You actually brought her HERE?”
Your body stiffened. You turned and suddenly you weren’t just with him anymore. You recognized all of them. Kim Seokjin stood near the staircase, arms crossed, expression unreadable but not hostile. Just assessing. Behind him, leaning casually against the railing was Kim Taehyung. His gaze met yours immediately like you were something interesting he’d just been handed. “Well...”, Taehyung hummed softly, tilting his head, “She’s definitely prettier than I expected.”
Your stomach flipped and your pulse spiked.
This was...Bangtan.
More movement caught your attention. Footsteps and voices and then Park Jimin appeared, soft features masking something much sharper underneath. His eyes landed on you and, unlike the others, there was no hesitation. “So you’re the journalist.”, he said quietly. Your throat tightened.“You’re making her uncomfortable.”, the voice came from behind them. Kim Namjoon stepped into view, eyes already scanning you like he was putting pieces together. “Relax.”, came from another voice. Jung Hoseok appeared with a grin that didn’t quite match the rest. “We’re not going to bite.”, he said, “Unless you give us a reason to.” Your stomach dropped.
“And here I thought we’d learned to be nicer.”, the last voice came from the back of the room. Jeon Jungkook sat sprawled across the couch, phone in hand, barely looking up. “We really have been trying to be more welcoming.”, he said, glancing at you now. Your chest tightened because that wasn’t possible. You hadn’t told anyone where you were tonight. Your gaze snapped to Yoongi.
He didn’t react. Didn’t deny it. Didn’t explain. “You didn’t bring me here just to meet them.”, you said quietly. Finally his attention shifted fully back to you. “No.”, he responded. “Then why am I here?”, you asked. “Because it was time.”, he said simply like it answered everything. You didn’t ask for clarification because suddenly you weren’t sure you wanted the answer.
Dinner that evening was worse. It was too normal and that was the problem. Conversation flowed. Food was served. Glasses clinked. And all of them, all seven men, acted like this wasn’t completely insane. Like you weren’t sitting at a table with the most dangerous men you’d ever researched.
Jin placed food on your plate and encouraged you to eat like it was routine. Hoseok asked you about your work with a smile like he was genuinely interested. Namjoon corrected a detail in one of your articles with accuracy that made your stomach turn because there’s no way the average person would’ve known that. Taehyung watched you more than he spoke. Jimin sat just a little too close for comfort. Jungkook scrolled, while listening to everything anyway. And Yoongi, he barely spoke at all. But you felt him watching you the entire evening.
You didn’t realize how overwhelmed you were until you stood up. “I need some air.”, you muttered. No one stopped you. The hallway was quieter. Your footsteps softer now as you moved, trying to steady your breathing. This was too much. Too fast. Something wasn’t right. As you made your way back down the hallway you heard the voices. You froze.
“…you’re moving too quickly.”, Namjoon spoke. “I’m not.”, Yoongi said. Your heart stuttered. “Attachment changes variables.”, Namjoon continued, “You know that better than anyone.” There was a pause then Yoongi reasoned, “I’ve accounted for it.” Your pulse started to race.
“What’s the end goal here?”, Hoseok asked quietly. Yoongi spoke, “She stays,” he said, voice low, certain, “and she can’t leave.” Your stomach dropped. “That’s not an answer.”, Jimin murmured. Another pause followed and then Yoongi answered, “I’ll give her enough of a reason to stay.” Your breath caught. A soft exhale came from the side. “You’re obsessed with her.”, Taehyung said. The words settled heavy in the room. Yoongi didn’t react at first. Taehyung tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing just a fraction. “..I know.”, Yoongi said.
Everything in you went cold. Silence followed. No one laughed. No one dismissed it. Which meant they were taking it seriously. Which meant so was he. You stumbled back before they could see you. Heart pounding so hard it hurt. No. No, no, no…That wasn’t…He wouldn’t…But the way he said it…The way no one argued…Your chest tightened, panic rising fast and sharp. You had to leave.
You didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t go back. You ran out the door. Past the gates. Into the dark stretch of woods that bordered the property. Branches caught at your clothes as you pushed forward, breath coming in ragged bursts, your mind spinning. You stopped and leaned against a tree trying to catch your breath. You’d been so stupid. So blind. Every moment. Every look. He’d been playing you the entire time. Every touch. It wasn’t just care. It was controlled obsession.
“Y/N you shouldn’t run away at night.”, The voice cut through the dark like a blade. You froze. Slowly you turned. Min Yoongi stood just behind you like he’d known exactly where you’d go. Your chest heaved, “Stay away from me.” A tilt of his head, “I’m guessing you heard.” Your hands shook, “You’re insane.” He stepped closer, “You weren’t supposed to find out like that.” Your stomach twisted violently. “You were going to trap me.”, you said, voice breaking, “You were going to…”
“No I am going to.”, he corrected quietly. You took a step back, “I’m leaving.” He shook his head, “No…no you’re not.” Your pulse spiked, “You don’t get to decide that.” He smirked, “I already did the moment I saw you.” He took another step closer, “You don’t understand yet Y/N.”, he said softly, “This is better for you.”
“You don’t get to decide what’s better for me!”, you shouted feeling your frustration and fear rise. For the first time his expression shifted. It turned to something sharper and darker. “I do.”, he said and before you could react his hand caught your wrist. You struggled, panic surging but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how hard you fought. He didn’t even look strained.
“Let me go…”, you cried. “Y/N I can’t,” he shook his head as he began dragging you back through the route you’d already come from, “I won’t let you go…ever.”
The mansion loomed again before you knew it. The doors closing behind you with a final, suffocating weight as he pulled you back inside as your heart pounded and your mind raced and everything finally clicked into place you realized the truth you’d been too blinded to see before.
This was never an interview. Never a story. Never something you were in control of. It was always him. Always what he wanted. And what he wanted was you.
The rules started the next morning. Your door didn’t lock. It didn’t need to because when you tried to leave, there was always someone there. Usually Jimin. Sometimes Jungkook. Once, even Namjoon, quietly reading a tablet in the hallway like your freedom was just another variable he was monitoring.
“You’re not a prisoner.”, Jin had said gently when you snapped one morning. But you’d laughed at that because it was starting to feel like something worse than prison.
You still tried. You weren’t going to just disappear into this. Not into them. Especially not into Min Yoongi. That night, you waited until the house went quiet. You slipped into the office they hadn’t bothered to lock, either arrogance or trust, you weren’t sure anymore, and found what you were looking for.
Your laptop. Your notes. Your half-finished article. Your lifeline. Your hands shook as you connected the device Namjoon had carelessly left behind earlier. A mistake. Or a test. You didn’t care which.
You just needed one thing. To get it out. To get it to your boss. To make sure someone, anyone, knew what was happening here. Your fingers hovered over send. Just one click. That’s all it would take. But when you turned he was already there. Yoongi. Leaning against the frame like he’d been watching for a while.
“How long?”, you whispered. He sighed, “Long enough.” Your heart slammed. “You were letting me try anyway.”, you said slowly, “This whole time.” He nodded, “Yes.” Your stomach dropped, “That’s sick.”
“No.”, he corrected softly, “That’s called trust.” You let out a sharp breath, “You don’t get to call this trust.” He stepped closer to you. “You’re still here.”, he said. You tried to take a step back, “I’m planning my exit.”
“No Y/N.”, he chuckled, “No you’re not.”
“You don’t own me.”, you snapped. “You keep saying that.”, he said softly, “but I don’t think you believe it.” You should’ve moved. You should’ve screamed. You should’ve done anything but stand there and feel the space between you shrink.
“Yoongi you’re not thinking clearly.”, you whispered. He reached for you. His hand caught your wrist gently at first like he was giving you the chance to pull away. You didn’t. His eyes searched yours like he was still giving you time to stop it. You didn’t and when he kissed you it wasn’t a question.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It felt like something inside you stopped resisting. Like something you’d been holding together for too long finally cracked. You hated it but you wanted it. When he finally pulled back you were still there. His forehead rested briefly on yours but then he pulled away, “Not yet.”
Just like that the warmth of him disappeared, his hand slipping from your wrist like it had never been there at all. Confusion hit first. “What…”, you started, but your voice faltered. Yoongi watched you carefully, like he was measuring something.
“You should get some rest.”, he said quietly. Like nothing had just happened. Like he hadn’t just kissed you. Your chest tightened, “Th-That’s it?” He nodded, “For now.” Then he turned and walked away and you stood there with your heart racing, thoughts unraveling, something restless clawing at your chest. Because this wasn’t relief. It should’ve been but it wasn’t. It felt like something unfinished Like he’d started something in you and then left it there on purpose.
That night, you didn’t sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you felt it again, the way he looked at you, the certainty in his voice, the way he stopped. Not because he had to. Because he chose to. Because he knew you would come to him instead.
The next morning felt worse and when you stepped into the kitchen you weren’t alone.
“You look like you didn’t sleep.”
Your head snapped up. Jimin leaned casually against the counter, watching you with that soft, unreadable expression of his. “I’m fine.”, you muttered. He hummed, unconvinced. Jimin pushed off the counter slowly, stepping closer. “You know when Yoongi decides something.”, he said quietly, “he doesn’t change his mind.” Your pulse quickened. “Well…I’m not something he gets to decide.”, you snapped. Jimin smiled faintly, “That’s where you’re wrong. You think this just…happened?”, he continued, “That you found him? That the interview was your choice? Y/N…He found you first.”
Your breath caught, “what?” Jimin’s eyes stayed on yours, “You were already on his radar before you even knew Bangtan was real.”, he said, “Your articles. The way you dig. The questions you ask. The pictures of you circulating the press.” Your chest tightened. “He likes things that challenge him. Who do you think has been protecting you all these years?”, Jimin added, “Y/N you weren’t an accident. He’s…he’s wanted you for a long time.”
Everything in you went still. “You should stop fighting it.”, he said, voice gentler now, “It’ll be easier for you.” You let out a shaky breath, “You’re telling me to just…let him have his way?” Jimin stepped closer again. “I’m telling you.”, he said quietly, “that you’re already halfway there.”
You avoided Yoongi after that. At least you tried to but avoidance didn’t mean distance. Not in this house because no matter where you went you felt him.
Later that day you found the study dimly lit, quiet except for the soft rustle of paper. Namjoon looked up when you entered. “You shouldn’t be here.”, he said calmly. Namjoon set the papers down slowly, “You should leave.” Your head snapped up, “What?” He held your gaze. “You should leave.”, he repeated. “You’re worried.”, you said slowly. He took a moment then nodded, “Yes…For all of us. He doesn’t do this.”, Namjoon continued, “He doesn’t normally…fixate on things…especially people.” You scoffed, “You’re talking about me like I’m a problem.”
“You are.”, he said simply. That stung more than you expected. “Whether you want to be or not. He’s already changing things.”, Namjoon added, “Adjusting plans. Taking risks he wouldn’t normally take and if that continues…”, he said quietly, “it won’t just affect him.”
Your breath slowed, “What are you saying?”Namjoon didn’t look away. “I’m saying.”, he replied, “you need to decide what you are to him because if you’re nothing.”, he continued, “you need to leave before you become something that takes him down.”
“And if I already am something?”, you asked. Namjoon didn’t hesitate, “Then it’s already too late.” That should’ve been it. That should’ve been the moment you pushed away. Ran. Fought harder but instead you found yourself standing outside his door. Breathing uneven.
Heart racing. Your hand hovered then knocked.“Come in.”, his voice came muffled from behind the door. He didn’t look surprised when you stepped inside. “You did that on purpose.”, you said, voice quieter now, “Last night.” His gaze didn’t waver. “You wanted me to.”, you started but he cut you off, “Come to me,” he finished for you, “And you did.” Your heart pounded. “I hate that you’re right.”, you whispered. Something in his expression softened. Just slightly and this time when he reached for you he didn’t hesitate.
The mansion, which had once seemed like a cold architectural marvel, was starting to feel like a living organism, one that was reshaping itself around your presence. You found the first sign of it on your bed. A box, wrapped in heavy cream-colored paper. Inside was a silk dress in a deep emerald green. Your breath hitched. It was the exact dress you had mentioned liking in a social media post from six years ago, a post buried under thousands of words and photos of your life. You shoved the box aside, a cold shiver racing down your spine. They weren't just watching you now. They had backtracked through the ghost of your entire life.
In the hallway, you nearly collided with Jin. He looked impeccable, the sunlight from the arched windows catching the sharp line of his shoulders. He simply tilted his head, eyes sweeping over you with an unnerving, brotherly warmth. "The emerald will suit you.”, Jin said, his voice smooth. It’ll look better on you than it did in the shop window. Dinner is at seven, Y/N. Don't be late. Yoongi hates cold food and wasted time."
"I didn't ask for a dress.”, you snapped, your voice trembling. “You didn't have to.”, Jin replied, his smile widening just a fraction, “We know what you need before you do. It’s better that way." Seeking an exit, you retreated toward the sunroom, hoping for a breath of air. Instead, you found Hoseok. He was hunched over a stack of papers, a phone buzzing beside him. When he looked up, the "Sunshine" persona you’d seen at dinner flickered and died. His expression went flat, his eyes turning into two polished stones.
"You're the talk of the house, Y/N.”, Hoseok said. The cheerfulness was gone, replaced by a low, rhythmic cadence that sounded like a warning, “Just a word of advice…don't confuse Yoongi's patience for a lack of resolve. He’s letting you wander because he likes the chase." He stood up, walking toward you until he was inches away, “If you try to run again, I’m the one he sends to bring you back and I promise you…”, he leaned in, his voice a lethal whisper, "I am much less gentle than he is. Don't make me have to be the bad guy."
You backed away, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. You turned a corner, looking for a way to the gardens, but ended up in a room lined with monitors. Jungkook sat there, bathed in the blue light of the screens. He didn't jump when you entered. He didn't even look away from the monitors. “You have a habit of biting your lip when you're thinking.”, he noted. You froze. On the center screen, a high-definition feed showed you standing exactly where you were, looking at him. Other screens showed you sleeping at 3:00 AM, pacing your room, even the moments you had been sure were private. “It's cute.”, Jungkook continued, finally turning his chair. His youth was a mask for the cold efficiency in his eyes, “But there are thirty-two cameras on this floor alone. Motion sensors in the woods. Biometrics on the gates. There is no 'out,' Y/N. There’s just here. You might as well get comfortable."
By the time you reached Yoongi’s office, you weren't just angry you were vibrating with a sense of profound violation. The air in the room was thick with the scent of sandalwood and whiskey. Yoongi was behind his desk, the light of a single lamp casting half his face in shadow.
"Is this what you do?", your voice cracked, slicing through the silence, “You find something you think is beautiful and you put it in a cage until it forgets how to fly?" Yoongi didn't look up from his ledger. He turned a page slowly, his movements deliberate, “I’m not keeping you in a cage, Y/N. I’m building you a fortress."
"A fortress has the guns pointed out.”, you spat, “Yours are pointed at me."
"The world out there is loud…messy, and dangerous.”, he said, finally closing the book. He stood up, the movement fluid and predatory, “People would kill for what’s in that brain of yours. Your editors would sell you out for a headline. Your 'sources' would silence you the moment you became a liability if it wasn’t for me. Here...here, you’re the only thing that matters. My only priority. My precious…little…bird.”
"You're talking about protection, but this feels like a life sentence.”, you said, backing up as he rounded the desk, “You've stripped away my life. My job, my friends, my identity."
"I didn't strip it away. I replaced it with something permanent.", he kept coming, his gaze heavy and dark, pinning you in place, “You spent your life chasing stories that end in a week. I'm giving you a story that never has to end."
You hit the glass of the window, the coldness of it pressing against your back. Yoongi stopped inches away, his presence overwhelming. “And what if I don't want to be a character in your story?", you whispered, your breath hitching. "Stop looking at the door, Y/N," he murmured, leaning in until his forehead almost touched yours. “You’re a monster.”, you choked out, even as your heart betrayed you, leaping at his proximity.
Yoongi’s hand came up, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw with terrifying tenderness. He leaned into your ear, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that made your knees weak. “Maybe. But I'm the monster that’s keeping you alive and I'm the only one who knows exactly how you like your coffee in the morning. I'm the only one who knows you cry when you're frustrated but refuse to let anyone see it.", he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, “Does a monster care if you're well-rested? Does a monster care if you ate or when your head hurts? Does a monster notice the way your pulse jumps when I touch you like this?"
He didn't wait for an answer. He didn't have to. The silence in the room was the loudest thing you’d ever heard, a heavy, suffocating blanket that told you the truth. The journalist in you was dead. The prisoner was waking up. And the terrifying part was how much she wanted to stay.
Outside these walls, you had a deadline. You had a landlord, a best friend who came over every Sunday, and a desk at the newsroom littered with half-empty energy drinks.
Someone had to be looking for you. You were a high-profile investigative journalist. You didn't just drop off the face of the earth without a notice.
You found Taehyung in the gallery on the second floor, staring at a canvas of swirling oils. He didn't turn when you approached, but his voice drifted toward you, smooth and haunting. "You’re thinking about the world outside.”, he said. It wasn't a question. “My editor.”, you began, your voice sounding thin even to your own ears, “My family. My friends. The police. You can't just erase a person, Taehyung. I know people are looking for me." Taehyung finally turned. He looked at you with a sort of tragic pity, the kind one might give a bird hitting its head against a window. He reached into his silk pocket and pulled out a phone, your phone.
"That’s been taken care of.”, he said simply. He tapped the screen and held it out. You saw your own social media feed. A post from two days ago, long after you’d been brought here, stating you were taking an indefinite sabbatical to travel and deal with "personal burnout." There were emails sent from your official account to your boss, resigning with a level of professional detail that only you could have written. Even a text to your friend, mentioning a last-minute flight to a remote retreat unsure of when or if you’ll be back.
"I didn't write those.”, you whispered, your blood turning to ice, “How…who wrote those?" Taehyung tilted his head, a dark, enigmatic smile playing on his lips, “We have people who specialize in nuances, Y/N. Your tone, your syntax, your common typos. To the rest of the world, you aren't missing. You’re just…gone…by your own choice.”
"You killed me.”, you breathed, “Without even shedding blood, you killed my life."
"No.”, Taehyung corrected, stepping closer to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was light, but it felt hot like a brand, “We just cleared the noise so you could focus on what’s important. Yoongi is waiting for you in the dining room. Don't keep him waiting too long and wear the green dress. He’s been…restless." He didn't elaborate on what "restless" meant, but as he walked away, you felt the weight of his words. You weren't a missing person. You were a ghost of your former self.
🐦⬛
After that, Yoongi’s obsession was no longer a subtle undercurrent. It had become the atmosphere of the house itself. He no longer spent his nights in the office. He spent them in the doorway of your room, watching you sleep. He didn't ask if you wanted to join him for lunch. He simply took your hand and led you there, his grip possessive and unyielding.
One evening, the weight of it all, the digital erasure of your life, the constant surveillance, the suffocating proximity boiled over. You were in the library, and Yoongi was seated on the couch, a book forgotten in his lap as he simply tracked your movements across the room. "Stop it!", you shrieked, the sound echoing off the high ceilings. "Stop looking at me like I'm your prey to catch!"
Yoongi didn't flinch. He stood up slowly. “I want to go home.”, you sobbed, the fight suddenly draining out of you as you slumped against a bookshelf, “I want my messy little apartment. I want my boring life. I want to be a person again." He was in front of you in an instant. He didn't just grab you. He did something worse. He wrapped his arms around you in a hold so steady, so grounded and warm, that your body instinctively sagged into him.
"You were never just a person to me.”, he murmured into your hair, “You were the only one who saw through the smoke. You’re the only one who actually knows me." This was the torture, the duality of him. He was the man who had stolen your freedom, the criminal leader who had systematically deleted your existence from the outside world. But he was also the only man who had ever looked at you and seen the entirety of your soul.
Your hands came up, hovering between his chest and the air. You wanted to shove him away, to claw at his face and run until your lungs burst. But as his heart beat against yours, steady, calm, certain, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt instead.
"I hate you.”, you whispered into his chest as you breathed in the scent of his skin. “I know.”, he replied, his arms tightening around you, pulling you so close there was no room for air, let alone escape, “But you’re still mine."
You hated that he was right. You were terrified of the abyss he represented, but in this strange, gilded prison, he had become your only anchor. You were caught in a horrific loop: the more he took from you, the more he became the only thing you had left.
"Look at me.”, he commanded softly. You lifted your head, eyes blurred with tears. Yoongi’s expression wasn't cold anymore. It was burning, a quiet, obsessive fire that promised to consume both of you.
"You can try to run.”, he said, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, “You can fight me, you can scream, you can hate me until it’s the only thing you feel. But at the end of every day, you will be here…With me. Because I have spent my entire life building a world that no one can touch and I built the center of it just for you."
He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours and for a split second, you didn't feel like a prisoner. You felt like a queen in a kingdom of shadows and that was the most dangerous truth of all.
This time the kiss didn’t feel like a question anymore. It felt like an inevitability. Like every conversation, every look, and every carefully placed moment had been a funnel, narrowing the distance between you until there was nowhere left to go but forward… or under. Your hands pressed weakly against his chest, a reflex, a dying reminder that you should resist. But he didn’t rush you. Yoongi didn’t just take, he waited. His lips barely brushed yours, his breath warm and steady, as if he already knew the outcome. He knew you better than you knew yourself.
“Tell me to stop.”, he murmured against your mouth. You opened your lips to do just that, but nothing came out. Only a quiet, broken sound not a protest, but an invitation.
That was all it took. His hand slid up your neck, fingers threading through your hair to anchor you. The kiss deepened not frantic or messy, but controlled. Possessive. Your breath caught, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt as something inside you unraveled. You weren't cracking or wavering anymore. You were breaking.
“You’re shaking.”, Yoongi murmured. His voice was quieter now, but no less certain. “I should be.”, you whispered. His gaze softened, but the unwavering intent underneath didn't budge, “You’re still here.”You hated how much that mattered. You hated that he was right. When your silence stretched too long, his fingers brushed your cheek, slow and almost gentle.
“Do you understand what that means?”, he asked. Your brows pulled together, “That I made a mistake?” A faint, amused exhale escaped him, “No.” His thumb dragged across your lower lip, his eyes following the movement as if he were marking territory, “It means you’ve already chosen me.”
“That’s not…”, you started but he cut you off, “It is.” Not harsh, not loud. Just final, “You can keep fighting it if you want, but your body doesn’t lie to me.” He stepped closer, backing you up until you hit the edge of the desk. Trapped by the sheer weight of him.
“Yoongi…”
His hand slid to your waist to steady you. He didn't wait for permission this time. He simply decided you needed him. “Y/N you feel it too.”, he said. It wasn't a question. Then something in his mind finally clicked into place. His hand moved from your waist, traveling with agonizing slowness until it rested low against your stomach. Your eyes snapped to his. The air in the room felt pulled from your lungs, “Yoongi…?”
“You don’t understand yet.”, he murmured, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles against the fabric of your clothes. It was the touch of someone imagining a future that hadn't happened yet but one he had already decided was inevitable.
“Understand what?”, you questioned. “When I decide something.”, he said, his voice dropping into a low, steady register, “I don’t do it halfway. I don’t bring people into my life unless they’re staying.” You shook your head, “I didn’t agree to stay.”
“You did. You just don’t want to admit it yet.”, his hand pressed firmer against your stomach. “You seem to think this is temporary.”, he said softly, “You think eventually you’ll leave, go back to your life, write your story but that’s not how this ends.”
“Then how does it end?”, you whispered. He looked at you and the obsession in his eyes had been replaced by a terrifying certainty. “You stay.”, he said simply, “Here…with me…forever.”
“That’s not an ending.”, you said. “For you…it is. For us…it’s a beginning.”, he smiled. The realization hit you in waves, cold and heavy. He leaned in, his lips brushing your temple, “I’ve spent my life building a legacy that no one can take from me. Now, I’m building something that’s mine in a different way.”
“This isn’t love.”, you whispered, your voice barely holding together. He stilled for a second, his grip tightening, “Maybe not…yet, But it’s real.” You were still standing in his arms, breathing him in, letting him close even as he laid out the blueprints for your captivity.
His hand lifted from your stomach, but the implication remained, heavy and unspoken. He was a patient man. He had a plan, and he could wait for you to realize there was no world left outside of him. Fingers tilted your chin up, he caught your gaze one last time. “For now.”, he added softly, “I’ll let you catch up.” You eyed him, “Catch up to what?” A faint, knowing look crossed his face, “To the fact that you’re already mine…you’ve always been mine…even when you didn’t know it.” You didn’t argue. The worst part wasn't that he believed it, it was that, deep down, you were starting to believe it, too.
🐦⬛
The silence of your bedroom was no longer a comfort. You were staring at the ceiling, the ghost of his hand still heavy against your stomach. Every time you closed your eyes, you heard the finality in his voice. It was a terrifying thought, yet it hummed through your veins. He hadn't just made a claim. He had rewritten the air you breathed.
You threw back the covers. Your bare feet were silent on the cold floor as you walked down the hallway. You didn't knock. You didn't have to. When you pushed open the door to his suite, the room was bathed in the low, amber glow of a single lamp. Yoongi wasn't sleeping. He was sitting up in bed, a book discarded on the nightstand, his back against the headboard as if he’d been counting your footsteps from the moment you left your room.
He didn't look surprised. He looked satisfied. “You're late.”, he murmured, his voice a low grate that skipped down your spine. “I couldn't sleep.”, you said, your voice sounding small in the vastness of his space. You stayed by the door, your heart hammering against your ribs, “I kept thinking about what you said. About... everything."
Yoongi tracked you with his eyes, dark, predatory, and entirely unblinking. He shifted, pulling the duvet back in a silent invitation, “Come here." It wasn't a request. It was the natural conclusion to the path he had set you on. You moved toward the bed, every step feeling like a deliberate surrender of your will. When you reached the edge, he reached out, his hand wrapping around your wrist. His skin was burning hot compared to the chill of the hallway.
With a single, firm tug, he pulled you onto the mattress. You tumbled against him, the scent of expensive shampoo and something soft filling your senses. "You knew I’d come.”, you whispered, your face inches from his. “I told you.”, he said, his fingers trailing from your wrist up to your shoulder, his touch possessive and heavy, “Your body doesn't lie. You've been fighting a war that was over before the first shot was fired." He adjusted himself, pulling you flush against his side so that your head rested on his chest. You could feel the steady, terrifyingly calm thud of his heart. It wasn't racing like yours. His arm draped over you, his hand sliding down to rest once more over your stomach, the same spot as before. It felt like a seal. A promise.
"Is this it, then?", you asked, your voice trembling, “Am I just...yours now?" Yoongi leaned down, his lips brushing your ear, his breath a warm, haunting caress. “Like I said, you were always mine.”, he whispered, “Tonight is just the night you stopped pretending you had a choice. Sleep now Y/N. When you wake up, your world will be much smaller. Just this room. Just this bed. Just me."
He tightened his hold, anchoring you to him with a finality that left no room for escape. And as the darkness of the room swallowed you both, the most frightening part wasn't his obsession with you. It was the way you finally felt calm, pinned beneath the weight of his shadow.
🐦⬛
Moving forward Yoongi’s hand always found you in some way, your wrist, your waist, the small of your back, but lately…it lingered lower. Rested there. Like it belonged there at your stomach.
The first time you noticed it, you told yourself it didn’t mean anything. You were overthinking. You had been doing that a lot lately but then it kept happening. When he pulled you into him, his palm settled there without hesitation. When you got too quiet, too lost in your own head, he grounded you the same way, slow, steady pressure like he was reminding you to breathe. Like he was reminding himself of something.
You tried to ignore it. You tried to ignore the other things too. “You need to eat.”, he encouraged with the plate was already in front of you. “I’m not hungry…”, you tried but he cut you off, “You are.” His tone wasn’t harsh. You still picked up the fork. It kept going like that. Your coffee tasted different one morning. You frowned after the first sip, glancing down at it. “I made it how you like it.”, Yoongi said from across the room without looking up, “It’s just decaf. You need less caffeine.” Later, when you reached for a glass of wine at dinner, his hand closed around yours before you could lift it. “Have water instead.”, he murmured. You blinked, “Since when do you care so much about what I drink?” His gaze lifted then, “Since I decided I do.”
That was how he did it. Until you weren’t meant to hear it.
“…you’re adjusting too many variables at once.”, Namjoon’s voice said from the other room. “I’m not.”, Yoongi responded with an annoyed sigh. “You’re not giving her time to question it.”, Namjoon continued, “That’s what’s going to make her notice something is off.”
“She already is.”, Yoongi replied. Another voice this time, Jimin, quieter, “And if she figures it out?” Yoongi didn’t hesitate, “Good. I want her to.” Something cold slid down your spine. “That doesn’t worry you?”, Hoseok asked. Your chest tightened. “No because by the time she does…”, Yoongi continued, voice softer now, but somehow heavier, “it won’t matter anyway.”
The pieces started to fall into place. His hand on your stomach. The food. The control. The quiet insistence. The coffee. The wine. The way he watched you not just now, but like he was waiting for something. For you to realize. Your breathing turned shallow. No, that wasn’t…
Your stomach twisted, your hand instinctively pressing like you could feel something that wasn’t there…not yet at least. Or…
A sharp knock startled your thoughts.
“Y/N.”
You flinched. Yoongi stood in front of you now. Closer than he should’ve been. Closer than you realized he’d gotten. Your pulse spiked. “You’re stressing too much again.”, he said softly. You shook your head, stepping back, “What did you do?” His expression didn’t change, “What do you mean?” His hand lifted, hesitated for just a fraction of a second, then settled exactly where it always did. Your stomach.
For a moment, he just looked at you. Then, softer than you expected, “I’m taking care of you.” Your chest tightened painfully, “That’s not what this is.” A faint exhale left him, almost like disappointment, “You don’t understand yet.” Your head shook, faster now. His thumb moved, slow, absent, tracing a pattern against you like he had all the time in the world. Like this was already decided. “You always figure things out eventually.”, he murmured, “That’s why I chose you.” Your heart pounded so hard it hurt.
The next morning the mug barely touched your lips before it was gone. You blinked. Jimin stood beside you, turning the cup slightly in his hand, like he was inspecting it. “That’s not the decaf you’ve been drinking lately.”, he said softly after taking a sip. “I know what coffee it is, Jimin.”, your patience snapped thin, “Give it back to me.”
His gaze flicked up to yours then, “You should be more careful with what you put in your body.” Jimin set the mug down on the counter, out of your reach, “Yoongi doesn’t do things halfway. He wants a future with you Y/N.” Your jaw tightened, “That’s not news. He made that clear from the start.” A small, almost sympathetic smile touched his lips, “You don’t have to agree to anything he does. If anything…that just makes him want it more.”
🐦⬛
Weeks passed and Yoongi didn’t come around for the first time since you arrived. At first, it felt like relief. You could breathe without feeling watched by him. Move without that constant weight at your back. Think without his voice quietly unraveling every decision you tried to make.
But the house felt…wrong. Like something important had been removed and nothing had replaced it. You found yourself noticing things you hadn’t before. The way dinner felt longer without his hand reaching for yours underneath the table. The way no one filled the silence the same way he did.The way your thoughts drifted to him.
“He’s on a business trip.”, Jungkook said. You stood in the doorway of the monitoring room, arms crossed tight over your chest. Jungkook didn’t look away from the screens. “For how long?”, you asked. He shrugged, “He’ll be back soon.”
The night he finally came back, you didn’t hear the car. You felt it. A shift in the house. Quick movements. Strained voices. Your heart raced before you could stop it. You told yourself it didn’t matter. That you didn’t care. Your feet moved anyway.
You saw the blood first. Dark. Stark against the polished floor. Your breath caught. Clothes were discarded in a pile. You followed the trail of blood. The door was half open. “Hold still.”, came Jin’s voice. You pushed the door open fully and froze. Yoongi sat shirtless in a chair, head tilted slightly forward, blood smeared across his skin, down his side, dripping onto the floor beneath him. Jin worked quickly, stitching a large wound just below his ribs like this was routine. Like this was normal.
Your stomach twisted violently, “Yoongi…” His head lifted and when his eyes found yours everything in your chest broke. Not fear or anger but relief. You didn’t think. You just moved. Your voice broke as you rushed forward, the world narrowing down to him, blood, too much blood to be okay. Up close, it was worse. His skin was pale under the dim light, a sheen of sweat clinging to him, jaw tight like he was holding himself together through sheer will. He didn’t look untouchable. He looked human.
“Careful Y/N.”, Jin muttered, not looking up as he worked, needle flashing under the light, “You’ll make this harder than it already is.” You barely heard him. “Yoongi…”, you whispered again, softer this time, like saying his name too loud might hurt him further
“Didn’t expect that reaction.”, Namjoon’s voice came from behind you, quieter, edged with something like surprise. Taehyung, leaned lazily against the wall and let out a soft hum. “I did.”, he said, a smirk pulling at his lips, eyes never leaving you. You ignored them. You couldn’t focus on anything but the way Yoongi’s breathing hitched, just slightly as Jin pulled the thread tight.
Your hand moved before you could stop it. You grabbed his. Warm. Slick. Blood-soaked. Your fingers tightened around his instinctively. His reaction was immediate. His hand closed around yours. His eyes flickered, just for a second, something softer breaking through the pain. “Stay still.”, Jin warned, sharper now.
Yoongi didn’t look away from you. Didn’t let go. It took longer than you expected. Every second stretching thin, taut with tension as Jin worked in silence, stitching him back together. By the time it was done, your fingers were still laced with his. You hadn’t even noticed.
“Done.”, Jin said finally, leaning back, “Try not to tear it open.” A dry exhale left Yoongi, but his grip on you didn’t loosen. Not even a little. “I’ll help him.”, the words left your mouth before anyone could offer. You felt it…everyone noticing and judging.
The bathroom filled with steam quickly, warm air curling around you as you guided him under the water. You expected resistance. You didn’t get any. Yoongi let you help him. Let you steady him. Let you touch him like this, careful, hesitant, your hands hovering before committing, like you were afraid he might break under them. You kept your movements light and gentle.
Avoiding the bandaged wound, your focus sharp, controlled, anything to ignore the way your chest tightened every time he winced. “Does it hurt?”, you asked quietly as you ran the cloth over a deep purple bruise. He smiled, “Not when you’re the one doing it.” You stilled for a second before continuing.
By the time you got him back to his room, exhaustion clung to him in a way you’d never seen before. You hesitated at the edge of the bed. His hand caught yours. Not forceful but firm enough to stop you, “Stay with me.” A faint, tired exhale left him, something softer than you’d ever heard before. “You won’t hurt me.”, he said quietly, “You’ll only make it better.” You hesitated again. His fingers tightened just slightly around yours, drawing you closer, “Come here.”
Slowly and carefully you climbed into the bed beside him. You kept space between you. At least you tried to but Yoongi closed it instantly. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you in against his side with a pained grunt, anchoring you there like it was the most natural thing in the world. His hand slid over you, settling like it always did. His grip tightened just slightly, his head dipping closer, his voice quieter now, roughened by exhaustion. Your fingers curled lightly into his shirt, careful of the bandages, your heart beating too fast for how still you were.
You should pull away. You should say something. You didn’t. Because for the first time since he brought you here you weren’t thinking about leaving. And that scared you more than anything else.
🐦⬛
Over the following weeks you did your best to help Yoongi heal. Bringing him coffee in the mornings, more blankets and pillows at his request, sometimes he simply wanted you to just lay down next to him.
On this afternoon you stood at the stove, stirring slowly, the soft sound of simmering filling the space. It felt…normal. Domestic in a way that didn’t belong in this house. You told yourself that’s all it was. Something to do. Something to keep your hands busy so your mind didn’t drift back to him.
It had been easier lately or maybe you’d just gotten used to it. The rhythm. The presence. The way Yoongi existed around you like something constant.
“You’re getting better at this.”, a voice said from behind you. Your hand stilled slightly. Jimin entered into the room. Leaning casually against the counter, watching you with that soft, knowing look that always felt like it saw a little too much.
“It’s just soup.”, you muttered, not looking at him. “Mmmhmm.”, he hummed, pushing off the counter slowly, stepping closer, “but you didn’t used to cook for him.” You shrugged lightly, “He’s injured and…people change.”
“Do they?”, he asked quietly. You finally glanced at him and that was your mistake. Because he was close now. His gaze flickered over your face, slower than it should have. “Y/N you look different lately.”, he added, voice softer now. Your pulse picked up slightly, “Different how?” A small smile tugged at his lips, “Softer…sweeter.” Your grip tightened slightly around the spoon, “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?”, he tilted his head, stepping just a little closer letting his hand barely touch your waist, “Or are you just getting comfortable here?”
“Get the fuck away from her.”, Yoongi’s voice broke through the air. Both of you stilled. He stood in the doorway. His gaze wasn’t on you. It was on Jimin.
Jimin didn’t move away right away. Yoongi stepped forward. Dangerous in a way that didn’t need volume to be felt. “Relax.”, Jimin shrugged, glancing at you briefly before looking back at Yoongi, “I was just talking to her.” You stepped in before it could escalate. “Stop it.”, you said quickly, setting the spoon down. Yoongi’s eyes shifted to you. The anger didn’t disappear. It focused. “What else did he say?”, he asked. You panicked, “It doesn’t matter.” Yoongi scoffed, “It does to me.” Behind you, Jimin let out a quiet exhale, “You’re overreacting. You’re too obsessed with her.”
That did it. Yoongi moved. Fast. The chair scraped violently against the floor as he shoved past it, crossing the space in two strides. Jimin straightened, but didn’t step back. Not until Yoongi grabbed him and held him up by his shirt collar.
“Yoongi!”, you rushed forward as the tension snapped completely, hands grabbing at his arm, trying to pull him back, “Stop!” It wasn’t a full fight. Not yet but it was close. “Get out.”, Yoongi said. Jimin held his gaze for a second longer then he smirked and stepped back towards the door, “Careful boss...”, he murmured, glancing at you one last time, “You’re going to scare her off with your violence.”
You followed Yoongi to the bedroom. The door slammed. You barely had time to turn before he was already pacing, running a hand through his hair, breathing uneven not out of exhaustion but out of restraint.
“Yoongi…”, you started but he cut you off. He held up a hand, “Don’t.” You froze. He turned on you then, eyes sharp, dark, something volatile sitting just beneath the surface, “Don’t tell me it was nothing.”, he snapped, “I saw him touch you.”
“It was nothing.”, you shot back, heart racing now, “You are overreacting.” A bitter laugh left him. “Overreacting?”, he repeated, stepping closer, “He was flirting with you…touching you!”
“So what?”, you challenged, even though your heart was beating way too fast, “I can handle myself.” He shook his head, “That’s not the point…You don’t belong to him.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.”, you said, quieter now but it didn’t come out as strong as you wanted it to. His expression shifted. He turned away suddenly, grabbing something off the dresser then throwing it. It shattered against the wall. You flinched, “Yoongi, stop!”
“I should go find him.”, he muttered, already moving again, already heading for the door, “I should make sure he understands…”
“No.”, you said firmly. You moved before you could think. Your hand caught his wrist. He stopped not because you were stronger but because it was you. “Don’t.”, you said, softer now, breath uneven, “You’re going to make this worse. Don’t let him win.”, you added quickly. That made him pause. Just slightly. Your grip tightened. “You’re better than this.”, you said, stepping closer, your voice dropping, “Don’t prove him right.”
His eyes dropped to your hand on him. Then back to your face. You didn’t think. You leaned in and kissed him. It worked immediately. The anger didn’t disappear but it redirected. His hand came up fast, gripping your jaw, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, rougher than before, edged with everything he hadn’t let out.
Your breath caught, fingers curling into his shirt as you held onto him, steadying him or maybe steadying yourself. But you weren’t pulling away. Not this time. Not when he stepped forward. Not when you stepped back. Not when your back hit the wall.
“Say it again.”, he murmured against your lips. Your mind spun, What?”
“That you don’t belong to anyone.”, his voice went low. His hand slid down, your waist, your hip, then lower. Resting there like it always did. “You don’t believe that.”, he said quietly. You swallowed. His forehead pressed lightly to yours. “Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispered.
Instead of answering, your hands moved. Your fingers shouldn’t have been shaking, but they were trembling with a frantic, electric energy as you fumbled with the heavy metal of his belt. The click of the buckle unlocking was deafening in the quiet of the room, a sharp, metallic punctuation mark at the end of your hesitation.
Yoongi didn't help you. He didn't move a muscle. He simply stood there, a predator allowing the prey to decide exactly how the hunt would begin. His dark eyes tracked every micro-movement of your hands, heavy with a hunger that made the air in the room feel thick, like you were breathing in heat.
“Y/N…”
Your name wasn't a question. It was a warning. It came out of his throat like crushed velvet and gravel, raw and dangerously low. You swallowed hard, your knuckles brushing the firm heat of his lower stomach. You didn't look away. “Don’t stop me.”, you breathed. That was the spark he was looking for. His hand lashed out, fingers tangling deep into the hair at the nape of your neck with a bruising grip. He jerked your head back, forcing your throat to arch, exposing the pulse jumping frantically beneath your skin.
“You think this is you taking control?”, he murmured, his face inches from yours, his breath smelling of dark coffee and something uniquely him, “You think you’re the one making a choice here?” Your body instinctively arched toward his.
A low, guttural sound vibrated in his chest, a growl of pure, unadulterated want. The kiss wasn't a meeting of lips. It was a collision. It was a violent reclaiming of territory. He stayed true to his word and there was no holding back. His tongue invaded your mouth with a possessive rhythm, tasting of desperation and years of suppressed need. His other hand found the small of your back, crushing you against him until you could feel the hard, unmistakable ridge of his arousal pressing into your thigh.
You let out a broken moan, your fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt, desperate to get closer, to bridge the impossible gap between your skin and his. He tore his mouth away, trailing wet, biting kisses down the line of your jaw to the sensitive dip of your collarbone. “You don’t get to start something like this.”, he ground out against your skin, his teeth grazing your pulse point, “and expect me to be gentle. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else. You understand me?”
“I’m not asking for gentle.”, you choked out, your head falling back as his hand slid beneath your clothes, his palm searingly hot against your bare skin. He didn't waste another second. In one fluid, powerful motion, he hoisted you up. Your legs instinctively locked around his waist, the friction of your bodies sending a jolt of pure fire through your core. He slammed you back against the bed.
His hands were everywhere mapping you, claiming you, stripping away the last barriers of fabric with a frantic, focused intensity. When his hand finally slid between your thighs, finding you slick and aching for him, your breath hitched into a high, thin silver of a sound.
“Look at me.”, he commanded, his voice a rough vibration against your ear. You opened your eyes, blurred with heat, to find him watching you with a terrifying level of certainty. He looked like a man who had finally found the one thing he was allowed to destroy.
“You feel that?”, he whispered, his fist guiding him to you, moving with a slow, agonizing pressure that made your hips buck involuntarily, “That’s me. That’s all you’re ever going to feel.” He didn't wait for an answer. He took what you offered with a raw, primal hunger that left you shattered.
The rhythm between you had shifted from a controlled burn to a total inferno, the air in the room charged with the scent of salt and exertion. Yoongi’s composure, usually his greatest weapon, was fraying at the edges. Every time your hips arched to meet him, he let out a sound that was less like a man and more like a starving animal finally being fed.
He was deep inside you now, his forehead pressed against yours, sweat dripping from his chin onto your chest. His movements were no longer calculated. They were frantic, driven by a primal desperation that seemed to surprise even him. His hands, once possessive and firm, were now clutching at you as if he were drowning and you were the only thing keeping him afloat.
"Y/N.”, he choked out, his voice breaking, stripped of its usual smooth authority, “My beautiful little bird.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in jagged, ragged hitches. He shuddered violently, his body locking up as he was close to reaching his peak and in that moment of total vulnerability, the filter between his darkest thoughts and his tongue simply snapped. "I’m gonna get you pregnant.”, he rasped, the words tumbling out raw and unfiltered, vibrating against your collarbone, “I’ve thought about it every goddamn night since I first saw you. I think about coming home and seeing you heavy with me. Swollen and beautiful because of me. I've gotten off to the thought of it so many times I've lost count."
He let out a sharp, fractured breath, his grip on your hips tightening until it would surely leave marks, “I want to fill you up so deep you can't ever walk away. I want to mark you from the inside out. You’ll be mine forever.” Even though you already had your suspicions, hearing the admission was startling, possessive, invasive, and objectively terrifying. It was a claim on your future, a desire to tether your biology to his forever. By all accounts, the sheer intensity of his fixation should have repulsed you. It should have sent a chill of fear down your spine to know he’d been privately obsessing over such a permanent surrender long before you ever met him. But as you looked up at his face, flushed, wrecked, and completely undone by his own craving of you, you felt a surge of heat that made your vision swim. The sheer, dark weight of his want didn't push you away, it pulled you under. The thought of him losing his mind to that fantasy, of him needing that level of permanence with you, turned your blood to liquid fire.
You didn't recoil. Instead, you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him back down into you, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back. "Then stop thinking about it and do it.”, you whispered, your voice a defiant, hungry challenge. A dark, predatory light flickered back into his eyes, the realization that you weren't afraid of his darkness, but welcomed it. With a low, guttural growl, he reclaimed your mouth, any trace of hesitation incinerated by the heat of your response. He spilled inside you with such force that you were sure he’d never recover.
In the aftermath Yoongi pulled the duvet over both of you, his movements uncharacteristically gentle now that the storm had passed. He pulled you back against his chest, his arm draped like a lead weight over your waist, his hand resting once more over your stomach, a silent, lingering reminder of the words he’d breathed into your skin moments before.
For a long time, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of a clock and the steady thrum of his heart against your shoulder blades. "Y/N.”, he murmured. His voice was no longer a growl. It was soft, almost tentative. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head, “…I love you."
The words hung in the air, shimmering and strange. It was the first time the syllables had crossed his lips. It should have been the crowning moment of a romance, the final piece of a puzzle. Instead, you stayed silent, staring at the moonlight filtering through the heavy velvet curtains.
You thought about the life you had before the gravity of Min Yoongi and Bangtan pulled you out of your orbit. You thought about your press badge now likely buried at the bottom of a drawer, gathering dust. You thought about the thrill of the hunt, the late nights in the newsroom, the sharp, acidic taste of strong coffee as you chased a lead that could change the world. Your journalism career hadn't just ended. It had been dismantled, piece by piece, sacrifice at the altar of his need to keep you safe and to keep you his.
You felt him stiffen slightly at your silence, his breath hitching as he waited for the one thing he couldn't take by force. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of him, the terrifying safety of his embrace. The fire he had started in you earlier hadn't died. It had simply settled into a dull, permanent ache.
He had effectively erased the woman who hunted the truth, replacing her with a woman who waited to hear his key in the lock. Your ambition had been traded for his obsession, and your freedom for his "love." He shifted, his hand moving with a slow, deliberate possessiveness over your abdomen. The heat of his palm felt like a brand. You remembered the raw, desperate confession he’d made at the height of his pleasure, his craving to fill you, to tether you to him with a life you both shared.
In the quiet, you realized that fighting was no longer an option. To live in this house, under his shadow, meant total integration. If you were to be his, you would be his entirely. You would let the world forget your name while you carried his. You would give him the one thing that would ensure you never looked at the horizon again.
"I love you too, Yoongi.”, you whispered, the lie and the truth tangling together until they were indistinguishable. You turned in his arms, pressing your face into the hollow of his chest and felt his satisfaction radiate off him in waves. You made a silent, internal vow to stop fighting the inevitable.
He kissed your forehead, his touch reverent, unaware that he was witnessing the final death of your spirit. You were his prize, his most precious possession, kept in a room where the light was always perfect and the doors were always locked.
You were a bird in a gilded cage and as you closed your eyes, you finally stopped beating your wings against the bars. You simply tucked them against your sides, settling onto the velvet perch he had provided, and prepared to sing the only song he wanted to hear.
Warnings: Drinking, Sugar Daddying, Swearing, talks of prostitution, maybe a tiny hint of slut shaming?, Sick pet, mentions of vet clinics and surgery, Whore used as an insult, physical fighting, small mention of injuries/blood, extreme poverty, surgeries
The apartment felt unusually quiet that evening. You’d spent most of the day pacing, cleaning surfaces that were already spotless, rearranging pillows, and checking your phone more times than you cared to admit. The box of macarons still sat on the counter, a silent reminder of the decision weighing on you.
Finally, you gave in. Can you come over tonight? you texted. The reply came quickly: I’ll be there after work.
Now, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm amber light through your windows, a soft knock echoed through the apartment. Your heart skipped. You opened the door to find Yoongi standing there, still dressed in his work attire, tailored suit slightly loosened, tie absent, hair just a bit tousled as if he’d continuously run a hand through it on the drive over.
“Hi.”, he said, his voice gentler than usual. You nodded, “Hi…Come in.” He stepped inside, his gaze subtly scanning the familiar space before settling back on you. There was a quiet tension between you. It was anticipation mixed with uncertainty.
“Do you want something to drink?”, you asked more about stalling than necessity. “I’m okay.”, he replied. You gestured toward the couch, “Can we sit?” He nodded, taking a seat while you settled next to him leaving just enough space to feel both safe and intimate.
Sir Fuzzy Paws made a quick appearance rubbing up against Yoongi’s shins and releasing a loud purr, almost like his own thank you for paying the vet bill and the fancy food and toys. Yoongi reached down and gave him a few scratches behind his ear.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then you reached for the folded letter resting on the coffee table and held it up. “I got your invitation.”, you began, “Paris.” Yoongi watched you carefully, “And?”
“And I don’t understand your motives.”, you admitted, “I need to know what this really is before I even consider saying yes.” He leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees, “I meant what I wrote. No expectations. No arrangements. Just us.”
“That’s exactly what worries me.”, you said softly, “Because the last time we were involved, everything was clearly defined then too and we still ended up making a mess of everything.”Yoongi exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping briefly to his hands before returning to you, “I understand that.”
“Do you?”, you asked gently, “Because sometimes it feels like you hide behind grand gestures instead of saying what you actually feel.” The words hung in the air. He didn’t deny it. Instead, he offered a faint, almost self-conscious smile, “I’m not very good at that part.”
“At talking about your feelings?”, you asked. “At admitting them to myself or anyone else.”, he corrected quietly. Your heart tightened slightly at the implication.
“So why Paris?”, you pressed. He hesitated then answered, “Because I wanted a chance for us to figure out what this could be…without the complications, without the expectations of anyone else. I…enjoy being with you Y/N.”, his voice softened, “More than I probably let on.” It wasn’t a full confession, but it was the closest he’d come.
You studied him for a long moment before speaking again, “I’ll go to Paris with you.” Relief flickered across his features, but before it could fully settle, you added, “On one condition.” His brows lifted slightly, “Okay…I’m listening.” You took a steadying breath, “I want you to take me on three actual dates first.” He blinked, clearly caught off guard, “Dates?”
“Yes.”, you said, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Not extravagant trips or over-the-top gestures meant to impress me. No private jets or Michelin-star restaurants just for the sake of showing off.” A hint of amusement crossed his face, “You’re not a fan of those?”
“I didn’t say that. They’re…nice.”, you admitted, “But that’s not what I’m looking for. I want something real. Thoughtful. Personal. I want to see the effort you’d put in if money wasn’t the easiest solution. I want you to actually work for it.” His expression shifted from amusement to contemplation.
“Simple things.”, you continued, “Like a walk through a museum, cooking dinner together, a picnic in the park…something that shows you actually know me…that I can be more to you that just a pretty date whenever you feel like it.”
Yoongi leaned back slightly, processing your words. He hesitated and the hesitation didn’t go unnoticed by you. Your chest tightened, “If that’s not something you want, that’s okay. But then us…Paris…isn’t happening.” He stayed unnervingly silent. You began to rise from the couch, misinterpreting his silence as refusal, “Maybe this was a mistake.”
“Wait.”, his hand gently wrapped around your wrist, stopping you. You looked down at where he touched you before meeting his eyes. “Y/N I’m not hesitating because I don’t want to.”, he said quietly, “I’m hesitating because…I’ve never really done that before. It’s…it’s been a very long time since I even planned a date especially with someone that wasn’t a…well…you know...”
You softened slightly, “You’re a smart, strong, man Yoongi. You run a billion dollar company. I’m sure you can handle planning three little dates with little old me.” A small smile appeared on his lips, genuine and unguarded, “Three dates.” You nodded, “Three dates. If, after that, we both still want to go to Paris, then we go.” He considered it for another moment before finally extending his hand toward you, “Deal.” You glanced at his hand, then took it, shaking gently, “Deal.”
Instead of letting go immediately, his fingers lingered around yours, the moment stretching with quiet intimacy. “When’s our first date?”, he asked. A playful glint entered your eyes, “That’s for you to figure out.” He chuckled softly, a sound warm and rare, “I guess I have some planning to do.” You walked him to the door a few minutes later, the atmosphere between you noticeably lighter than when he’d arrived. As he stepped into the hallway, he paused and turned back to you. “Thank you,” he said, “For giving me a chance to do this right.”
Your heart fluttered, “Don’t thank me yet. You still have three dates to get through.” A smirk tugged at his lips, “I’m looking forward to it.” You watched as he walked down the hallway, a sense of cautious hope settling in your chest. For the first time, this didn’t feel like an arrangement. It felt like the beginning of something real.
The soft hum of the bookstore café was comforting in its familiarity, milk steaming, quiet chatter, the occasional clink of ceramic mugs, pages being flipped. It was a typical afternoon and you welcomed the routine. After everything that had happened, normalcy felt like a lifeline.
You were just wiping down the counter when the bell above the door chimed. You didn’t look up immediately, “Hi there! I’ll be right with you.”, you called, finishing your task before turning around.
And then you froze.
Yoongi stood just inside the entrance, dressed simply in dark jeans and a charcoal sweater. His hair was slightly tousled and a little shorter than the last time you saw him. In his hands were two paper bags from a local deli and a tray carrying drinks.
For a moment, the world seemed to quiet around you. “Hi.”, he said, offering a small, tentative smile. “Hi.”, you replied, still surprised, “What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping you were on your lunch break.”, he said, lifting the bags slightly, “I brought food.” Your eyes flicked to the clock. As if on cue, your coworker leaned over behind you. “Perfect timing.”, she teased, “Go. I’ve got things covered.” You shot her a grateful look before stepping out from behind the counter.
A few minutes later, the two of you were seated at a small outdoor table just outside the café. The early afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the street and the atmosphere felt surprisingly relaxed. Yoongi handed you one of the bags. “Turkey and avocado on sourdough.”, he said, “And a strawberry lemonade. I remembered that’s your favorite.” You blinked, touched by the gesture, “You remembered?” He shrugged lightly, “I pay attention.”
You smiled softly as you unwrapped the sandwich, “This is really thoughtful, Yoongi. But just so we’re clear…” You met his gaze with a playful but firm expression, “This doesn’t count as one of the three dates.” A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes, “I know. This is just lunch.”
The conversation flowed easily as you ate, light, comfortable, and refreshingly normal. He asked about work, your coworkers, and the latest book you’d been reading. In turn, you found yourself asking about his week, noticing how he seemed more relaxed after everything came out.
After a pause, Yoongi wiped his hands with a napkin and looked at you thoughtfully, “So are you free this Saturday morning?” You tilted your head slightly, “I think so. Why?”
“I’d like to take you on our first date.”,he said. You blinked, surprised, “Saturday morning?” He nodded. “That’s…unexpected.”, you admitted, “Most people go for dinner or something in the evening.” A small, knowing smile tugged at his lips, “Trust me.” Your curiosity piqued, “That’s not exactly reassuring.” You studied his expression, searching for clues, but he remained steadfastly calm. “What time?”, you asked. “I’ll pick you up at nine.”, he replied, “Dress comfortably.”
There was something undeniably intriguing about the way he said it confident yet gentle, as if he’d put genuine thought into the plan. “Alright.”, you agreed, a small smile forming, “Saturday morning it is.” Relief flickered across his face, quickly replaced by quiet satisfaction, “Good.”
You both stood as your lunch break neared its end. For a moment, there was a comfortable pause, neither of you quite ready to part ways. “Thank you for the lunch.”, you said sincerely. “Thank you for saying yes.”, he replied. As you turned to head back inside, he called your name softly. You glanced over your shoulder. “I’m looking forward to it.”, he said. Your heart fluttered at the sincerity in his voice, “Me too.” With that, you returned to the café, unable to suppress the smile lingering on your lips.
As you resumed your work, anticipation began to build. For the first time in a long while, the future didn’t feel uncertain. It felt exciting.
Saturday morning arrived with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. You stood in front of your mirror, adjusting the sleeves of your sweater before slipping on a pair of comfortable jeans and sneakers, just as Yoongi had instructed. Jimin, who had insisted on staying over the night before “for moral support,” watched you from the couch with narrowed eyes. “You’re smiling like an idiot.”, he noted. “I am not.”, you protested, though the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you.
There was a knock at the door. “That’s him.”, Jimin whispered, “If he hurts you again…I won’t be afraid to leave some strongly worded reviews about each company he owns.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”, you teased, heading to the door. When you opened it, Yoongi stood there dressed casually in dark jeans, a soft blue flannel shirt layered over a black T-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. In his hands, he held two coffees. “Good morning.”, he said, offering you one, “Vanilla latte.”Jimin peeked around the corner, giving Yoongi a scrutinizing once-over before offering a curt nod, “Bring her heart back in one piece.”, he said. Yoongi suppressed a smile, “I promise.”
The drive was comfortable and filled with easy conversation. When Yoongi pulled into a bustling parking lot, you glanced around at the colorful tents and cheerful crowds. “A farmers market?”, you asked, pleasantly surprised. He nodded, looking slightly nervous, “When we were on that vacation I heard you mention to Hana that you loved them but hadn’t had the chance to go in a while. I thought it might be a good place to start.” Your heart melted a little, “It’s perfect.”
You spent the morning wandering through rows of stalls, sipping your coffee as you browsed fresh produce, homemade jams, and artisanal goods. Yoongi listened attentively as you excitedly pointed out different items, occasionally purchasing things you showed interest in, though he was careful not to overdo it.
At one stall, you sampled honey infused with lavender. “This is amazing.”, you said, eyes lighting up. Yoongi tasted it as well, nodding thoughtfully, “Perfectly sweet.”
As you continued walking, the sound of soft bleating drew your attention to a small petting area nearby. “Can we?”, you asked, already knowing the answer. Yoongi glanced at the enclosure filled with pigs and goats and sheep, looking mildly apprehensive, “I don’t see why not.”
Inside, you happily knelt to pet a gentle goat while Yoongi lingered a safe distance away. That was when a particularly enthusiastic sheep with a fluffy white coat and a pink ribbon around her neck began eyeing him.
A sign nearby read: “Petunia – Very Friendly!”
“You should pet her.”, you encouraged. Yoongi crouched cautiously, extending his hand, “Hey there…”
Without warning, Petunia let out an excited bleat and lunged forward, attempting to nibble at the paper bag Yoongi was holding. He stumbled back in surprise, “Whoa! hey!” You burst into laughter as he narrowly avoided being trampled on, scrambling to maintain his balance while the sheep persistently followed him around the pen.
“Why is she so aggressive?” he exclaimed, trying to sidestep her. “Oh come on Mr. international playboy!”, you managed between fits of laughter, “I thought you’d be used to pretty girls chasing you around by now.” Yoongi was still backing around the enclosure barely missing a small toddler. “Yeah well women usually ask for permission before they bite me.”, he said while aggressively handing the sheep one of the carrots from his bag. A nearby farmer chuckled, “Looks like Petunia’s got herself a little sugar daddy there.” You nearly choked.
Yoongi finally escaped the enclosure, slightly disheveled but unharmed, while you wiped tears of laughter from your eyes. “I can’t believe you’re laughing at my near-death experience.”, he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He shook his head, a soft laugh escaping him, “I’ll never live this down, will I?”
“Never.”, you confirmed with a grin. As the morning drew to a close, the enticing scent of fried dough led you to a food stall. “Funnel cake?”, Yoongi suggested. “Do you have to ask?.”, you replied enthusiastically.
You decided to share one, dusted generously with powdered sugar and covered in whipped cream. Sitting together on a nearby bench, you carefully tore off pieces, laughing as the powdered sugar inevitably ended up on your fingers and Yoongi’s dark jeans. At one point, you noticed a small smudge of sugar near the corner of his mouth.
“You’ve got something.”, you said, gesturing. He attempted to wipe it away but missed. Without thinking, you leaned in and brushed it off with your thumb. The moment lingered, both of you suddenly aware of the closeness. Yoongi cleared his throat softly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
“So…”, he began, his voice uncharacteristically shy, “how did I do?” You pretended to consider the question, tapping your chin thoughtfully, “Let’s see…thoughtful planning, minimal use of excessive wealth, successful navigation of artisanal honey, and only one near-fatal encounter with livestock.” He huffed a quiet laugh, “Sounds promising.” You met his gaze, your expression softening, “You did really well, Yoongi. I had a wonderful time.”
Relief and happiness flickered across his features, subtle but unmistakable, “I’m glad.” A comfortable silence settled between you as the bustling market continued around you. “Two more dates to go.”, he said gently. You nodded, smiling, “ I’m looking forward to them.”
As you walked back to the car, arms lightly brushing and laughter still lingering between you, it became clear that this wasn’t just the first step toward a possible trip to Paris. It was the beginning of something real, built not on arrangements or grand gestures, but on shared moments, genuine effort, and the quiet promise of what could be.
The moment you stepped through the apartment door, Jimin was already waiting. He was sprawled across the couch, a bowl of popcorn in his lap as if he was the one paying rent to live there. His head snapped up the second he saw you. “Well?”, he demanded, “How was it? And don’t you dare give me the short version. I want details.“
You laughed, slipping off your shoes and tossing your bag onto the chair, “It was really nice.” Jimin narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “Nice? That’s it? If you don’t elaborate immediately, I will assume something scandalous happened and you know I have a blabber mouth.”
“Relax.”, you teased, settling beside him, “He took me to a farmers market.” Jimin blinked, “Min Yoongi at a Farmers market? Are we sure this wasn’t a body double he hired?” You swatted his arm playfully, “He planned the whole thing. He remembered that I love them. We walked around, tried samples, bought some stuff, and even visited a petting zoo.”
“A petting zoo?”, Jimin leaned forward, suddenly invested, “Please tell me there was chaos.” You grinned, “A sheep named Petunia was in looooove with him.” Jimin gasped before dissolving into laughter, “I knew I liked sheep. Me and this Petunia could be good friends.”
“He looked so offended.”, you continued, laughing along with him, “But he was a good sport about it.” Jimin wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, “Okay, I’m actually impressed. That sounds…genuinely thoughtful.” You nodded, your smile softening, “It was. We ended the date sharing a funnel cake and he shyly asked how he did. I told him he did pretty well.”
Jimin studied your face carefully, his teasing demeanor fading into something more sincere, “You’re starting to fall for him again, aren’t you?” You hesitated before answering honestly, “Unfortunately I don’t think I ever really stopped.” He sighed, leaning back against the couch, “Well, as long as he keeps earning it, I suppose I can tolerate him.” A mischievous glint returned to his eyes, “So, when is Date Number Two?”
A few days later, Yoongi texted you: Are you free Saturday afternoon? You responded, I am. Should I wear comfortable shoes again? Yoongi: Not necessary this time. But maybe avoid caffeine beforehand.
Your curiosity was instantly piqued. When Saturday arrived, Yoongi picked you up right on time. He greeted you with a warm smile, dressed casually yet neatly, his usual composure tinged with a hint of nervous anticipation.
He drove you to a charming, locally owned coffee house tucked into a quiet street. Warm light glowed through the windows, and the rich aroma of freshly roasted beans greeted you the moment you stepped inside. You glanced around, puzzled but intrigued. “A coffee shop?”, you teased, raising an eyebrow, “You do remember I work in one, right?”
Yoongi’s confidence faltered almost immediately. “I know.”, he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “I just thought…maybe this was a bad idea.” You quickly reached for his arm, offering a reassuring smile, “Hey, no. I’m actually excited. I love coffee. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
Relief washed over his features. “It’s a small workshop.”, he explained, “They teach the process from bean to cup and how to identify different flavor notes.”
“That sounds amazing.”, you said sincerely. The workshop was intimate, with only a handful of participants gathered around a large wooden table. A knowledgeable barista guided the group through the journey of coffee explaining the origins of the beans, the roasting process, and how subtle differences in preparation could dramatically change the flavor.
You found yourself genuinely captivated, occasionally exchanging amused glances with Yoongi as you both attempted to swirl and sniff the coffee with exaggerated seriousness. As the session continued, you learned how to properly taste coffee, slurping it to aerate the liquid and identify its unique characteristics. The two of you compared impressions, sometimes agreeing and sometimes wildly off the mark.
“I taste caramel.”, you said thoughtfully. Yoongi took another sip, “I’m getting…coffee.” You nudged him playfully and laughed. At the end of the class, the participants were presented with a tasting flight of various coffees, each paired with small slices of freshly baked coffee cake. The warm, cinnamon-laced aroma filled the air as you and Yoongi settled at a small table together.
“This might be my favorite part.”, you admitted, taking a bite of the cake. “I had a feeling.”, he said, watching you with a soft smile. You sampled each coffee, discussing the subtle differences in flavor and aroma. The conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on childhood memories, favorite comfort foods, and the small details that made life meaningful.
After a comfortable pause, Yoongi spoke quietly, “I was worried this wouldn’t be enough. That it might seem too ordinary.” You met his gaze, your expression warm and sincere, “That’s exactly why it’s perfect. You didn’t try to impress me…you tried to connect with me.” He seemed to absorb that, a quiet satisfaction settling over him.
“So.”, he asked, echoing his question from the first date, “how did I do this time?” You pretended to consider it for a moment before smiling, “You did really well. I had a wonderful time.” Relief and happiness flickered across his features.
As you stepped outside into the soft glow of the evening, there was a lingering sense of closeness between you something deeper than before. These dates weren’t just leading toward Paris. They were building a foundation of trust and genuine affection.
“Two down.”, you said lightly. Yoongi nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips, “One more to go.” And as he walked you to your door, you couldn’t help but feel that whatever happened next, this journey was already changing both of you in the best possible way.
Yoongi was out of the country on a business trip so it took a couple more weeks for your third date to come together. You checked your reflection one last time before grabbing your bag, your heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves. Yoongi had offered to pick you up, but you’d insisted on walking. You wanted the time to clear your head, to prepare yourself for whatever the evening might bring.
His address led you to the most affluent and exclusive building in the country, its sleek glass exterior glowing softly against the evening sky. The lobby alone felt like stepping into a luxury hotel, marble floors, soft lighting, and a quiet elegance that made you momentarily question whether you truly belonged there.
After giving your name to the concierge, you made your way up to Yoongi’s apartment. When the elevator doors opened, your heart began to race. You took a steadying breath before knocking. The door opened almost immediately. Yoongi stood there, dressed in a simple black button-down with the sleeves rolled up, looking both composed and slightly nervous. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, not extravagant or showy, but delicate and beautiful, a mix of soft pastel blooms.
“For you.”, he said, offering them with a shy smile. “They’re perfect.”, you replied warmly, accepting them. Stepping inside, you couldn’t help but pause. His apartment was breathtaking with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, warm ambient lighting, and a minimalist design that somehow still felt inviting. Everything was carefully chosen, intentional, yet surprisingly personal.
“It’s incredible.”, you said, turning slowly to take it all in. Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed, “It’s just a place to live.”
“Just a place?”, you teased, “Yoongi, this place is bigger than my entire building.” He chuckled softly, “Do you want a quick tour?” You nodded, “I’d love that.” As he guided you through the apartment, you noticed subtle glimpses into his life, books neatly arranged on shelves, a piano tucked into the corner, and framed photographs scattered throughout. One picture in particular caught your attention.
You stopped abruptly, staring at it before a laugh escaped you. “Is that…?”, you began, trying to contain your amusement. Yoongi followed your gaze and immediately groaned, “Please ignore that.” But it was too late. The photo clearly showed a much younger Yoongi dressed in a French maid outfit, complete with an apron and headband, looking both mortified and proud. “Oh my god.”, you laughed, “Yoongi! Please explain!”
“I was really young.”, he muttered, his ears turning red, “And I really needed the money.” You tried and failed to suppress your laughter, “So you kept the picture?” He sighed, though a small smile tugged at his lips, “It’s a reminder of where I came from and that I survived it.” You nudged him playfully, “Well, I think it’s iconic fashion. Paris might not be ready for you.”
“Please never mention this again.”, he said, though his embarrassment only made the moment more endearing. “No promises.”, you replied with a grin. “This and Petunia are staying in my memory forever.” Shaking his head, he led you into the kitchen and you stopped short.
The countertops were filled with an impressive spread of carefully prepared dishes, fresh ingredients, and candles casting a warm glow over the space.
“Yoongi…this is incredible.”, you gasped. He shrugged modestly, “I wanted to cook for you.” You smiled softly, “You know, the first time we spent an evening together and I cooked for you, I made a simple spaghetti dinner.”
“I remember.”, he said immediately, his gaze warm, “I’ve been thinking about that spaghetti ever since.” Your heart skipped at the sincerity in his voice.
The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, shared memories, and quiet moments of understanding. Yoongi moved around the kitchen with surprising ease, serving each dish with careful attention. It wasn’t just the food that made the evening special it was the intention behind every detail.
For dessert, he presented a rich chocolate tart, its glossy surface catching the candlelight. “You made this too?”, you asked. He nodded, “I may have practiced a few times this past week. Jungkook definitely didn’t seem to mind being the Guinea pig.”
“It’s perfect.”, you said after the first bite, savoring the decadent flavor, “You’re setting the bar incredibly high.” After dinner, Yoongi insisted on taking you home. The night air was cool and quiet, the city lights shimmering around you as he drove with the windows down. When you finally reached your door, neither of you seemed quite ready for the evening to end. “Thank you.”, you said, turning to face him, “For everything. Tonight was…really special.”
“I’m glad,” he replied. A brief silence settled between you, charged with unspoken emotion. Yoongi hesitated, as if debating with himself. Then, before he could overthink it, he stepped closer and leaned in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to your lips.
Surprise flickered through you, but the warmth of the moment quickly replaced it. He pulled back almost immediately, concern crossing his features. “I’m sorry.”, he said softly, “I shouldn’t have…”
You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you reached for him, closing the distance and kissing him again this time with certainty. The kiss deepened, filled with weeks of unspoken feelings and longing. His hand gently rested at your waist, pulling you closer as the moment grew more intense.
But just as the heat between you began to build, you gently pulled away, your breath slightly unsteady. “I’m…I’m not ready for that yet.”, you said softly. Understanding immediately replaced any disappointment in his expression. He nodded, offering a reassuring smile, “That’s okay. We’ll go at your pace.” Relief washed over you, “Thank you.”
“Good night Y/N.”, he said gently, turning to leave. He had only taken a few steps when you called out, “Yoongi?” He stopped and turned back, a question in his eyes. You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest, “ When do we leave for Paris?”
For a moment, he simply stared at you, as if making sure he’d heard correctly. Then a slow, radiant smile spread across his face, one filled with hope, excitement, and something deeper.“Soon.”, he replied softly, “I’ll let you know all of the details tomorrow.”
And as he walked away, the promise of Paris no longer felt like an escape but the beginning of a new chapter for both of you.
I’ve had a few of these short stories in my drafts for a while and I wanted to clean it up a little bit. Instead of bombarding you with posts I decided to just post them all in one collection of Yoongi!♥️
Warnings: The following may contain descriptions/mentions of Anxiety, panic attacks, breakups, general angst, cheating accusations, Snake Hybrid Yoongi is back
1. Almost
You had always hated the way anxiety crept in quietly like it was trying to be polite about ruining your day. It started small most of the time. A tight chest, shallow breaths, thoughts that tripped over each other until nothing made sense anymore but then it always built.
Your boyfriend Yoongi never made a big deal out of it when you went to him. He didn’t panic, didn’t overwhelm you with questions. He just listened, quiet and steady. Then without fail, a day or two later he would send you a song. The first time it happened, you thought it was coincidence. By the fourth time it happened you cried because you realized it wasn’t.
The way the lyrics curled around your worst thoughts and softened them. The way the melodies felt like breathing exercises you didn’t have to think about. The way his voice that was low, warm, a little rough seemed to say I hear you without ever needing to say it out loud. You needed all of that.
“Another one?”, you had asked once, trying to sound light even though your chest had gone tight for a completely different reason. He shrugged like it was nothing, like he hadn’t just taken your panic and turned it into something beautiful for you to have forever.
“You needed it.”, he said simply. And that was the problem because the more it happened, the more a quiet, ugly thought started to grow.
You needed it too much. You needed him too much.
It sat in the back of your mind for weeks. Every time your phone buzzed with a new demo from him. Every time he went out of his way to come see you and he casually asked, “You okay today?”He never looked tired of you. Never sounded annoyed. But anxiety didn’t need proof. It just needed a crack to slip into. And it did.
You’re a burden.
He has better things to do.
He’s writing songs for you instead of songs he can release for his own job.
So the next time the anxiety hit you didn’t text him. You don’t call or go to him. That evening it was worse than usual. Your hands shook so badly you had to sit on the floor. Your breathing came in sharp, uneven bursts like your lungs had forgotten the rhythm they’d known your whole life. Your chest felt too tight, your thoughts too loud, your body too heavy and too light all at once.
You made it to the corner of your living room somehow and sat down, knees pulled up, forehead pressed against them, trying to make yourself smaller. Quieter. Manageable.
You counted your breaths and then lost track. Started over.
“Four in… four out… four in…”
Your voice cracked halfway through and that made you frustrated on top of everything else. But still you didn’t call him. Didn’t text. Didn’t even think about it. You had decided you weren’t going to be that person again.
You didn’t hear the door open. Didn’t notice the footsteps at first. It wasn’t until you felt something shift in the room, a presence that was warm and familiar. Then your head lifted just slightly. Yoongi was standing there. His hair was a little messy. His eyes were already on you, sharp and worried in a way that made your stomach drop.
For a second, neither of you said anything. Then he crossed the room in three quick steps. “Y/N what’s going on?”, his voice was softer than usual, but there was something underneath it, something like worry.
You tried to shake your head. “I’m okay.”, you managed, even though your voice barely worked. His expression didn’t change. “You’re sitting in a corner, shaking.”, he said, kneeling down in front of you, “So try again and tell me the truth this time.”
Your throat tightened, “I didn’t want to bother you.” The words slipped out before you could stop them and the second they did, you wished you could take them back. Because something in his face broke. Not anger not really. It was more like hurt. “Bother me?”, he repeated quietly. You nodded, eyes dropping to your hands, “You’re always wasting your time on me and I just thought that maybe I should handle it myself this time.”
“Y/N look at me.”, he said gently. You hesitated. “Please.”, he whispered.” You lifted your head. His jaw was tight, but his eyes were softer like he was trying very hard to meet you where you were instead of where his emotions wanted to take him.“You think you bother me?”, he asked. You didn’t answer. He exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face before sitting down next to you against the wall ,”Come here.”
You barely had time to process it before he shifted closer, gently pulling you out of the corner and into him. His hand came up to the back of your head, pressing you lightly against his shoulder.
“Breathe Y/N.”, he murmured. You did or tried to anyway. His other hand rested over yours, steady and warm, thumb brushing back and forth in a slow rhythm. “In.”, he said softly, “And out.”
You followed it this time because it was easier when he was there. By the time your breathing evened out, the room felt quieter. Your head was still resting against him when he spoke again, “You really thought I’d get tired of you?” The question was quieter now. Not sharp anymore, just…sad.
You swallowed, “I didn’t want to be too much.” He huffed out something that almost sounded like a laugh, but there was no humor in it, “You don’t get to decide that for me.” That made you pull back slightly, looking at him, “What?” He met your eyes fully now. “You don’t get to decide what’s too much for me.”, he said, “That’s my call and I’ve never thought that about you. Not even close.”
Your chest tightened again, but not in the same way. “You spend your time writing songs for me, Yoongi.”, you said quietly, “That’s time you could be spend doing other stuff.”
“I write songs because I want to.”, he shot back, softer now, “Because it’s the only way I know how to say some things.” Before you could respond, he stood up, tugging you gently with him towards the couch, “Wait here.”
You blinked, confused, but he was already moving. A minute later, he came back with his laptop. He sat next to you, opening the laptop. A few clicks later, a folder opened and then another. Your name was at the top. Inside it were dozens and dozens of files. More than you had ever heard. “I wasn’t going to show you all of these.”, he admitted, glancing at you briefly, “Some of them are rough. Some aren’t finished.”
He clicked one. A soft melody filled the room, piano, simple and aching. You froze. “I wrote this after the night you couldn’t sleep.”, he said, “You kept apologizing for waking me up.” He clicked another. This one was softer, almost like a lullaby, “This was when you cried at my parent’s house. You squeezed my hand the whole way home.”
Another.
“And this…”, he paused slightly, “…was when you laughed for the first time after a really bad week.”
You stared at the screen, then at him, “There’s…so many. Why didn’t you show me all of them?” He shrugged, leaning back slightly, “Because not all of them were for you to hear. Some of them were just…how I processed it. How I stayed close to you, even when I couldn’t fix everything.”
Your throat tightened. You felt like crying again. “You never annoyed me Y/N.”, he added quietly, “Not once. Not ever.” Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t heavy anymore. It felt comfortable. You looked back at the screen, at the list of songs, pieces of you, translated into something softer.“I thought I was being too much.”, you admitted. He nudged your shoulder lightly.
“Sometimes you are.”, he said. Your heart dropped for half a second before he continued, “And I like that you’re too much.” You blinked at him, “What?” He smirked a little, “You feel deeply. You care deeply. Yeah, it makes things harder sometimes. But it also means you’re you and I wouldn’t trade that for anyone or anything.”
You leaned into him again, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier His hand found yours immediately, “Next time…you don’t sit in a corner alone, okay?”You nodded and snuggled into him further, “Yoongi?”
“Yeah?”, he hummed. “Can I hear another one?”, you asked. This time, when he smiled, it reached his eyes. “Yeah.”, he said, already clicking on a new track, “Always.”
2. Perfect For Me (Slightly based on the song by Justin Timberlake)
Yoongi knew almost immediately.
Not the moment he met you, that would’ve been too easy, too perfect. He realized it later, sitting on the edge of his bed while you slept beside him, your breathing slow and even, like you trusted the world not to hurt you more than he ever had.
That was when it hit him. You were perfect for him but he was going to ruin you if he stayed.
Being with you felt like exhaling after holding his breath for years. You didn’t try to change him. You didn’t ask why he went quiet, didn’t demand explanations for his distance. You listened. You noticed. You stayed anyway. Loving you felt natural in a way that scared him. Because things that felt that good never lasted.
He loved you in the only way he knew how which was carefully. He memorized your coffee order, learned the exact weight of your head on his shoulder, adjusted his life just enough to make space for you without promising more than he knew he could give. Every time you smiled at him like he was home, something inside him twisted painfully.
If he let himself want this forever, really want it, he would break it.
So he started holding back. Not enough for you to notice at first. Just enough to protect you. Just enough to protect himself. He told himself that leaving early was kinder than staying too long.
But then you would laugh at his half hearted attempt at a joke. Or reach for his hand in your sleep to make sure he was still there. Or look at him like he was the safest place you knew. And he would stay longer than he planned.
The night you said, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”, his chest burned. Not because he didn’t feel it too but because he felt it too much.
He kissed you instead of answering, hoping you would hear everything he couldn’t say. That he loved you in a way that had an expiration date. That he wanted you even though he knew you deserved someone braver, steadier, better.
When he finally said it out loud, his voice barely held.
“You’re perfect for me.”, he told you, eyes fixed on the floor because if he looked at you, he’d take it back and ruin both of you, “But I’m not…I’m not what you need.”
Watching your face fall was the worst thing he’d ever seen.
He walked away because staying would’ve been selfish. Because loving you without being able to choose you fully felt like stealing time he had no right to take. Because sometimes the kindest thing you can do is leave someone before they start building a future around you.
He still hears your voice in songs sometimes. Still wonders what life would’ve looked like if he’d been different. If he’d been ready.
But loving you taught him something he carries quietly now: Just because something is perfect for you, doesn’t mean you’re perfect for it.
And that truth still haunts him to this day.
3. The Scent of Comfort
You didn’t realize when it started. Maybe it had always been there in small ways, standing a little closer than necessary, always needing to be in the same room, choosing the seat beside him even when there were others open. But somewhere along the line, it became a habit. Then a need. And eventually something you didn’t quite know how to explain.
Yoongi never really questioned it. You were just there. Curled up beside him on the couch while he worked, your knee pressed against his thigh. Leaning into his shoulder while he scrolled through his phone. Hugging him from behind while he stood in the kitchen, your arms wrapping around his waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Sometimes he’d hum in acknowledgment. Sometimes he’d absentmindedly pat your arm. Sometimes he’d just let you exist there, like your closeness didn’t interrupt anything.
And most days, that was enough. Because the truth was you weren’t just being affectionate. You were grounding yourself. His cologne, subtle, warm, a little woodsy, lingered on everything. His hoodies. His pillows. Even the air around him.
And when you were close enough, it wrapped around you too. It made your breathing slow. Made your thoughts quiet down just a little. Made the world feel manageable.
You never told him that. Because how could you?
Hey, I’m constantly attached to you because your scent keeps me from spiraling didn’t exactly sound normal.
So you kept it to yourself. Stayed close to him and hoped he didn’t notice how much you needed it.
Most days, he didn’t mind. But this day… wasn’t most days. You noticed it the second he walked in. His shoulders were tense, jaw tight, movements sharper than usual. He dropped his bag a little harder than necessary, ran a hand through his hair, exhaling like the air itself annoyed him.
“Hey.”, you said softly, stepping closer. He hummed in response, distracted as he dug through the refrigerator. You hesitated for a second. Then instinct won. You moved in, wrapping your arms around him from the side, pressing your cheek lightly against his shoulder.
There it was. That familiar scent. Warm. Steady. Safe. Almost immediately you started to relax. You closed your eyes just for a second.
“Can you not?”, he said suddenly. The words hit hard. You pulled back slightly, “Oh…sorry, I just…”His voice wasn’t loud, but it was tight, frayed at the edges, “I just got home. I don’t need someone hanging on me right now.” Your stomach dropped, “I didn’t mean to…”
“I know you didn’t mean to Y/N.”, he cut in, rubbing his temple, “But you’re always here. Always touching me, always right next to me…I just need space sometimes, okay?”
It wasn’t just what he said. It was the way it sounded like something that had been building. Like something he’d been holding in for a long time. “I’m tired. I had an awful day.”, he added, quieter but no less heavy, “Just…please back off for a bit.”
Back off. The words echoed in your head.
You nodded quickly, stepping away like you’d been burned, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He didn’t say anything else. Didn’t take it back. Didn’t soften it. He just turned and walked past you.
You left and went back to your place not long after that. Over the next several days you gave him space. You didn’t call. Didnt go to him.
And you felt it immediately. The difference. The absence. Without realizing how much you’d relied on it, the quiet comfort of his presence, the grounding warmth of him, was just…gone.
Your anxiety noticed. So you tried to fix it. In the only way you could think of.
While shopping you found the cologne a few days later. The same one. The one he always wore. It felt ridiculous standing there, holding the expensive bottle, your fingers tightening around it like it was something fragile you desperately needed. But you bought it anyway and that night you sprayed it on your pillow.
The scent filled the space around you, familiar and aching at the same time. You pressed your face into the fabric, breathing it in. And slowly your chest loosened. It wasn’t the same because it wasn’t him. But it was close enough to help. So you kept doing it.
On your blankets. Your hoodie. Your couch. The sleeves you curled your hands into when things got bad. You didn’t need to bother him anymore. You had figured it out.
The knock on your door came a week later. You hadn’t expected him. When you opened it, Yoongi stood there, hands shoved into his pockets, expression unreadable.
“Hey.” he said. You nodded, “Hey.”
“Can I come in?”, he asked. You stepped aside, “ Yeah. Of course.”
He walked in slowly, eyes scanning the room like he was taking something in. You closed the door behind him, turning back just as he stilled. His expression shifted, “What is that?” Your stomach dropped, “What?”
He looked around, “That smell.” Your heart started pounding, “It’s just…”
“Why does your apartment smell like mens cologne?”, he cut in, his voice low now, controlled in a way that felt worse than yelling. Your mouth went dry, “I…”
“Did you have a guy over here?”, he asked, and there it was, something raw underneath the anger. Something tight and defensive.
“What? No…”, you said. “Then why does it smell like that?”, he pressed, stepping closer now, “Because I haven’t been here for over a week so it’s not me.” You shook your head quickly, “It’s not like that, I swear…”
Your chest tightened. The words got stuck because suddenly, it felt stupid. Embarrassing. You were doing too much. “I just…I bought it.”, you said finally, your voice small. His brows furrowed in confusion. Your eyes burned. “It’s your cologne, Yoongi.”, you said, your voice cracking now, “I bought it because…because…” You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as tears started to fall, “Because I missed it. I missed you. I needed it.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. So you kept going, because if you stopped now, you wouldn’t finish, “I didn’t realize how much it helped until you told me to give you space. And I didn’t want to bother you again, so I just…I thought if I had it here and I sprayed it on my things, it would be enough to help me get through.”
Your hands clenched at your sides, “It makes me feel calmer. When my anxiety gets bad. Being near you…it helps. The way you smell…it just…it makes everything quieter. I feel safe and like I can breathe again.” You laughed weakly through the tears, “I know that sounds weird. I know it’s too much. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
The room went very, very still. His face changed. The anger drained out of it so fast it almost looked like it hurt. “Hey Y/N hey…”, he stepped forward quickly now, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure where to put them, “No, no, don’t…”
“I’m sorry.”, you said automatically, even though you weren’t sure what you were apologizing for anymore. “Don’t apologize.”, he said immediately, his voice softer now. He was shaking. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I thought…”,he started, then stopped, shaking his head, “I thought you were…”
You nodded, “I know what you thought…I probably would’ve thought the same too.” You let out a shaky breath. Silence stretched again, but this time it felt different. “I didn’t mean what I said.”, he admitted after a moment, quieter now, “That day. I was stressed and I took it out on you. That’s on me.” He winced slightly. “I mean…I do need space sometimes.”, he said honestly, “But not like that. Not… in an I’m tired of you kind of way. Not in a I never went to see you again way either.”, his jaw tightened, “I shouldn’t have said that. I should’ve worded it in a kinder more thought out way.”
Your chest ached, “I thought you meant it.”
“I didn’t.”, he said firmly, “I’m not tired of you Y/N. I could never be. I love you too much.”
That hit harder than everything else. He stepped closer again, slower this time. “Can I…?”, he gestured slightly, like he was asking permission. You nodded. He pulled you into him carefully, like he was afraid you might pull away. You didn’t.
The second you were close, that familiar scent wrapped around you again, real this time, warm and grounding and him. Your shoulders dropped in relief without you meaning to. He noticed. His arms tightened just slightly. He exhaled, long and slow, like something finally made sense. “I wish you would’ve told me.”, he said. He pulled back just enough to look at you, something soft and regretful in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”, he added again, quieter. And for the first time in days your chest felt steady.
He nudged your forehead lightly with his.
“Also…”, he added, glancing around your apartment, “maybe ease up on the spray a little. It’s…strong.” You groaned, hiding your face against his chest, “I couldn’t help myself.”
“I can tell.”, he laughed lightly. But his arms stayed around you and this time he didn’t ask you to let go.
4. Pretty Princess
Yoongi had been pacing for ten minutes.
Not subtle pacing either. It was full, restless back-and-forth across your living room, hands flexing at his sides, shoulders tight, the faintest shift of scales catching the light along his neck every time he turned too quickly. You sat on the couch, watching him with your chin propped in your hand.
“You’re going to wear a hole into the floor.”, you said lightly. He stopped and looked at you. Then immediately started pacing again. “Y/N I’m serious.”, he muttered, “This is a bad idea.” You snorted, “Babysitting is not a bad idea.”
“For you, maybe. For me?”, he pointed at himself, then gestured vaguely upward toward his eyes, his skin, his whole existence, “I’m half snake.”
“Half corn snake.”, you corrected, like that somehow made it cuter which, to be fair, it did. “That doesn’t help.”, he said flatly. “It does. Corn snakes are adorable.”, you laughed. “That’s not the word people usually use when they see me.”, he sighed.
You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself up from the couch and crossing over to him. He paused mid-step when you reached him, your hands sliding up his arms in an easy, familiar motion. “She’s five, Yoongi.”, you said gently, “Five-year-olds don’t care about that stuff the way adults do.”
“She might.”, he insisted, “Kids cry over weird things. What if she sees me and just…”,’he waved his hands vaguely, “…screams?”
“Then we handle it.”, you nodded. “What if she thinks I’m scary?”, he asked. I got returned once because the kids were scared of me.” You softened a little, reaching up to brush a stray piece of his hair back from his face, “You’re not scary.” He gave you a look.
“The other day you hissed at a leaf because it startled you.”, you reminded him. “That was a big leaf.”, he shot back. You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes again.
“I could stay in the closet.”, he offered, completely serious, “Just for a bit. Until she goes home.” You blinked at him, “You want to…hide in a closet? In your own home?” You laughed, grabbing his hand before he could start pacing again. “Yoongi.”, you said, squeezing gently until he looked at you, “It’s going to be fine. If she’s nervous, we’ll go slow. If she’s curious, we’ll answer her questions. You don’t have to disappear.”
His jaw tightened slightly, “I just…don’t want to scare her.” The honesty in that softened something in your chest. “You won’t.”, you said quietly, “And if she is scared at first? That doesn’t mean she’ll stay that way.” He didn’t look fully convinced but he nodded anyway.
She wasn’t scared. Not even a little. If anything, she was fascinated. The second your friends left, the little girl, Soojin, all bright eyes and tiny shoes that lit up when she walked, stood in front of Yoongi and just stared.
He froze. You could practically see the internal panic.
Instead, she tilted her head. “Are you a dragon?”, she asked. Yoongi blinked. “No,” he said slowly. “A snake?”, she questioned. He nodded, “Half.” Her face lit up, “That’s so cool!” You watched the exact moment his brain got confused. “Cool?”, he repeated. “Yeah!”, she said, bouncing slightly, “Do you have a tail?”
He glanced at you like help me. You bit back a grin. “Welllll?”, you teased. Luckily the little girl got distracted, “Whoa! Look at your eyes! They’re so beautiful.” And just like that, something in Yoongi shifted.
The rest of the afternoon unfolded in small, surprising steps. Soojin asked a million questions.
“Do you shed your skin?”
“Sometimes.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not really.”
“Can you climb trees?”
“…I could, but I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“…I’m…scared of heights.”
At one point, she reached out, tiny hand hovering uncertainly near his arm where a few small scales shown through, “Can I touch?” Yoongi looked at you again. You gave him a small nod. He turned back to her, holding his arm out slowly. “Yeah.”, he said, “If you’re gentle.” She was. Her fingers brushed lightly over the faint patterning of scales along his skin, her eyes wide. “They’re so smooth.”, she whispered. He huffed softly and just like that he relaxed a little more.
By the time dinner rolled around, Yoongi was the one helping her stir the pot while she stood on a chair, narrating everything like it was her cooking show.
You leaned against the doorway, watching them with a smile you didn’t bother hiding. The same man who had wanted to hide in a closet three hours ago was now letting a five-year-old boss him around in the kitchen and he didn’t seem bothered by it at all.
After dinner, you stepped out to take a quick phone call from your friend. “Everything okay?”, she asked immediately. “More than okay.”, you said, glancing toward the living room, “You might not get her back.” She laughed, “That good, huh?”You smiled, “She loves him.” You chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up, slipping your phone back into your pocket as you headed down the hall.
You stopped in the doorway and blinked stunned.
Yoongi was sitting cross-legged on the floor. Completely still. His hair was now clipped back in several places with bright, sparkly butterfly clips. Pink. Purple. One glittery blue one that caught the light every time he shifted. He had a silver and gaudy tiara mixed in as well.
Soojin sat in front of him, tongue peeking out in concentration as she carefully swiped pink and sparkly something across his cheek.
“Hold still.”, she instructed. “I am holding still.”, Yoongi said, his voice low and patient in a way you didn’t hear often. “You moved.”, she pouted. He chuckled, “I breathed.”
“Well stop breathing.”, the little girl demanded. Yoongi eyed her, “…That seems unreasonable.”
You slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. He looked up then and froze when he saw you. That’s when you saw the purple eye shadow and the pink glitter in his eyebrows. You doubled over, laughing, one hand braced against the doorframe.
“She asked nicely.”, he muttered. “I’m sure she did.”, you managed between laughs. Soojin turned, beaming, “Look! I made him pretty! Just like a princess!”
“You did an amazing job. He’s the most beautiful princess I’ve ever seen.”, you said sincerely, stepping into the room. Yoongi shot you a look. You ignored it.
“Thank you.”, she said proudly, going back to her work. You crouched down beside them, tilting your head to get a better look. There was glitter. So much glitter. A streak of pink across his cheek. Something very glossy on his lips.
“You do look beautiful.”, you told him sweetly.
He huffed but there was no real annoyance in it. Just acceptance and maybe, just maybe, a hint of fondness. Soojin leaned back finally, examining her work, “All done!”
You laughed again as he carefully reached up, touching one of the clips. Soojin clapped her hands, “Oohhh can we do your nails next?” He froze. Then looked at you. You raised your brows, smiling, “Have fun.” He sighed. “Okay.”, he said, already holding out his hand.
And just like that, the man who thought he’d scare her was sitting on the floor, covered in glitter, letting a five-year-old paint his nails.
By the time your friend texted that they were outside, Soojin was half-curled against Yoongi’s side, showing him a picture she’d drawn of something that looked like a very sparkly snake with wings. “That’s you.”, she said proudly. “I have wings now?”, Yoongi asked. You watched that quietly, something warm settling deep in your chest.
The knock at the door came a minute later. You stood, brushing your hands off as you went to answer it, greeting your friend with a smile and a quick rundown of the night.
Soojin perked up immediately, “Mom!” She hopped up and ran over, launching herself into her parent’s arms, words spilling out all at once, “He’s a snake and he’s really nice and we made dinner and he burned his tongue and I did his makeup and…”
You stepped aside to let them come in, glancing back toward Yoongi. He had stood up by now, already starting to pull a couple of the butterfly clips from his hair, a little awkward again but not in the same way as before. This time, it was softer. Like he didn’t quite know what to do with the feeling of being…liked.
Soojin’s parent smiled at him, “Thank you for watching her.” Yoongi gave a small nod.
Eventually, it was time to go. Shoes were put on, jackets zipped, tiny hands held. Soojin stood by the door, still talking a mile a minute, until her parent gently tugged her toward the hallway. “Say goodbye.”, they prompted. “Bye!”, she said brightly, waving at you. “Bye, sweetheart.”, you smiled, waving back.
She turned. Took two steps out the door. Then stopped.
You saw it happen in real time. The pause. The little shift. Then suddenly she pulled her hand free and turned around, “I forgot something!”
Before anyone could ask what, she darted back inside, little shoes lighting up with every step as she ran straight past you and right into Yoongi.
He barely had time to react before she wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight, determined hug. “I forgot to hug you goodbye!”, she declared.
Yoongi froze. Slowly he looked down at her. Then, just as slowly, his arms came up, returning the hug. Gentle. Careful. Like he was holding something precious. Soojin squeezed him tighter for a second, then pulled back, beaming up at him.“You’re not scary.”, she added matter-of-factly. Something in his expression shifted again. “Good I’m glad.”, he said.
“Okay bye!”, she chirped, already turning and running back toward the door. This time, she actually left. The door closed behind her, her voice still echoing faintly down the hall.
Silence settled in the apartment. You turned slowly toward Yoongi. He was still standing there. A couple glittery clips still in his hair. A faint smudge of pink on his cheek. And something unreadable but warm in his eyes.
“Well?”, you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair before stopping when he hit one of the clips, “I didn’t scare her.” You shook your head. “No.”, you said gently, “You didn’t.” The way his shoulders relaxed said enough.
After a second, he glanced at you, something almost shy in his expression.
“…Don’t get used to this.”, he grumbled, gesturing vaguely to the glitter, the clips, all of it. You grinned, “Too late. You’ll always be my pretty princess.” He rolled his eyes but he didn’t argue and instead he pulled you in for a big, confident, and comforting hug.
Warnings: Drinking, Sugar Daddying, Swearing, talks of prostitution, maybe a tiny hint of slut shaming?, Sick pet, mentions of vet clinics and surgery, Whore used as an insult, physical fighting, small mention of injuries/blood, extreme poverty, surgeries
Word Count: 4,129
Like always I apologize if I missed tagging any one! ♥️
Link to Yoongi Master List with prior chapters!
Chapter 7- Mimosas & Macarons
Dinner after that encounter was a blur. Plates were passed. Glasses filled. Laughter rose and fell like nothing in the room was wrong. You smiled when you were supposed to. Nodded at the right moments. Answered questions you didn’t even remember hearing. All while being hyper-aware of two things, Yoongi across the table and Yuri’s hand still resting on his arm. She leaned in more as the night went on. Soft laughs. Whispered comments. Fingertips tracing idle patterns like she was marking her territory.
Your stomach twisted every time. But Yoongi wasn’t playing along with her. Not really anyway. You caught it in the small things. The way his shoulders stayed tense. The way his responses to her were short and almost distracted. The way his eyes kept drifting back to you over and over again like he couldn’t help it. Like he didn’t want to be consumed by you, but couldn’t stop. It only made things worse because you didn’t know what to do with that. Not when she was right there. Not when Jin was sitting beside you. Not when this whole situation felt like something you had walked into blindly.
“You okay?”, Jin’s voice was low, just loud enough for you to hear. You blinked, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, “Yeah. Why?” He whispered, “You’ve been extra quiet.”
“I’m just tired,” you said quickly. Not a lie but not the truth either. His gaze lingered on you for a second too long. Like he didn’t believe you. Like he knew there was more. But then he smiled. Your fingers tightened slightly around your glass because something about him felt different tonight.
“You’ll be in the guest room upstairs.”, Jin’s mother said warmly once dinner wrapped up, guiding you toward the staircase, “We tried to make it comfortable.”
“Thank you.”, you said, managing a small smile. Jimin followed close behind you. He was unusually quiet. Jungkook lingered near the bottom of the stairs, hands in his pockets and looking like he had a thousand things to say but none he could actually voice. And Yoongi…he didn’t move. Didn’t say anything. But you felt him watching you.
The moment the bedroom door shut you exhaled sharply. “What the hell was that?”, Jimin whispered loudly, spinning toward you. “I don’t know.”, you shot back just as quietly, running a hand through your hair, “I didn’t know he was…”
“I didn’t know you were together like that!”, Jungkook hissed from the hallway, having apparently followed you upstairs anyway. “Why are you even here?!”, Jimin snapped opening the door. “Because I’ve known Yoongi for a long time and this is like my family too.”, Jungkook shot back, “Why are you here?!” Jimin crossed his arms, “Because I’m her best friend and she needed backup!” You shook your head, “I did not ask for backup!” Jimin raised an eyebrow, “You clearly needed it more than we thought!” You groaned, pressing your hands to your face, “Can you both not right now?”
Jimin lowered his voice, “That girl.”
“What about her?”, you asked, even though you already knew. “She’s not really his girlfriend.”, Jungkook cut in. Your head snapped up, “Really?” Jungkook nodded immediately, “Yeah. No. That’s…no.” Your heart started beating faster, “Then what is she?” Jungkook hesitated and nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “She’s…well…she’s like…” Jimin face lit up with realization, “Ohhh she’s like Y/N 2.0”
Your chest tightened. You don’t know if that was better or worse. Because of course Yoongi had moved on like that. Of course he had someone new. Someone easier. Someone uncomplicated. Someone who appeared to be exactly what he had wanted you to be. Your throat felt tight. “Does he…”, you stopped yourself, hating how the question even sounded, “bring them around his family often?”
“No.”, Jungkook said immediately understanding where your hurt feelings were coming from, “I’m…I’m not really sure what he’s thinking with this one.” That made it worse because maybe things were more serious between them than it had been between you and him.
The more you thought about it the room felt smaller suddenly. A soft knock broke the silence. All three of you froze. Another knock. Your heart jumped. “I’ll get it.”, you said quickly before either of them could move. You crossed the room, your hand hovering on the handle for half a second before you pulled it open and there he was. Yoongi.
Neither of you spoke. The hallway light cast soft shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes searched yours like he was trying to read something he couldn’t quite see.
“Can we talk?”, he said quietly. Jimin immediately appeared behind you, “No.”
“Jimin.”, you warned. He crossed his arms, “Y/N I don’t trust him.”
“That makes two of us.”, Yoongi muttered under his breath. Jungkook snorted softly in the background. You looked back at Yoongi. Then stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind you. It clicked shut silencing everything else. Now it was just you and him. Your heart was beating so fast you felt dizzy.
“Y/N…You need to stay away from Jin.”, he said. The words came out low. Your head snapped up, “What? You have no right to tell me who…”
“I’m serious.”, Yoongi said cutting you off, his voice dropping further, “You don’t know him like I do.”
“You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t see.”, you said, even though your voice wasn’t as steady as you wanted it to be. “I’m not trying to control you.”, he shot back, “I’m trying to protect you from getting hurt.” You laughed at his audacity, “Excuse me from what?” He hesitated and somewhere down the hall a door creaked open.
Jin stepped out into the light. He didn’t even try to pretend he hadn’t been listening. His eyes flicking between you and Yoongi, expression calm almost too calm. “Everything okay?”, he asked, voice smooth, controlled. “Do you need help Y/N. Is he bothering you?” Yoongi’s posture shifted instantly, “No.”, he said flatly, “She doesn’t need help. Especially not from you.”
Jin’s lips curved slightly, “I wasn’t asking you.” You closed your eyes for half a second. “Stop!”, you said. But neither of them were listening anymore.“I think you’ve said enough for tonight.”, Jin continued, his tone polite on the surface, but there was something sharp underneath it, “Why don’t you go back to your room? I’m sure Yuri would be more than happy to help you ease your tension. Isn’t that why you brought her here anyway?”
Yoongi let out a quiet, humorless laugh, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.” Jin tilted his head slightly, “Funny. Could’ve fooled me.” The tension snapped tighter as each guy too a step closer to each other. “Okay.”, you stepped between them slightly, your voice firmer now, “That’s enough.”
Neither moved. “Yoongi.”, you said, quieter but pointed. His jaw flexed. Then his gaze flicked to you and something in him pulled back for now at least. “Right.”, you continued quickly, before it could start again, “We’re all tired. This is too much. Let’s just…drop it. Everyone go back to your rooms.” Jin exhaled softly, stepping back first, “Fine.” Yoongi didn’t say anything but after a second he walked away without another word.
You stood there for a moment, your heart still racing. Jin’s hand brushed your arm lightly, “Hey Y/N.” You looked up at him. “You okay?”, he asked, softer now, “Yoongi has a way of getting people worked up.” You nodded automatically, “Yeah. I’m fine.” It was a lie but you didn’t have the energy to explain the truth. “Get some rest.”, he said gently, “We’ll talk tomorrow.” You nodded again. Everyone went their separate ways but the tension didn’t leave. It just followed you into the next day.
Because breakfast the next morning was…Painful. Quiet in all the wrong ways. Forks against plates. Coffee being poured. Small talk from the older generation. No one mentioned the night before but everyone felt it. Yoongi sat across the table, a faint tension still lingering in his posture. Yuri was nowhere to be seen.
Jin looked perfectly fine. Too fine actually, Like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t been standing in that hallway the night before with something sharp behind his smile. You avoided both of their eyes. Focused on your food. On anything else.
“Alright!”, Jin’s dad clapped his hands together suddenly, breaking the tension, “Beautiful day out there. Thought we’d take the boat out on the lake.” A few murmurs of agreement. “You’re all welcome to come.”, he added, smiling warmly. You forced a small smile, “Sounds nice.”
The lake was beautiful. Calm water stretching out endlessly, sunlight dancing across the surface. The kind of peaceful that should’ve made everything feel better. It didn’t though. You sat toward the front of the boat with Jimin, a mimosa in hand, letting the breeze brush against your skin.
“This is insane.”, he muttered under his breath, watching the water, “Like…insane insane.”
“You’re telling me.”, you said, taking a sip. “Just so you know…I don’t trust your new man.”, Jimin added. You sighed, “I know.” Jimin glanced at you, “And Yoongi?” You hesitated, “I don’t know what to think about him anymore.” Before he could respond a loud thud echoed from the other end of the boat.
Your head snapped up, “What was that?” Another noise followed by shouting. Your stomach dropped. You were already moving before you could think. Rounding the side of the boat and stopping dead in your tracks.
Yoongi and Jin were on the ground fighting. Jin’s eye was already bruising beneath the skin. Yoongi’s lip was split, blood staining the corner of his mouth.
“Hey…HEY!”, Jungkook shouted, rushing forward. Jimin was right behind him. The two of them grabbed each man, pulling them apart with effort.“Are you guys insane?!”, Jimin snapped. Yoongi struggled against Jungkook’s grip, his eyes locked on Jin, something furious burning there that you didn’t know he was capable of. “You’re a fucking liar and a pig.”, Yoongi spat, “You’re a disgusting excuse of a man.” Jin let out a sharp laugh despite the bruise forming on his face, “That’s real rich coming from someone like you.”
“Don’t…”, Yoongi started. “No, go ahead.”, Jin cut him off, wiping at the corner of his mouth, “Say it again. Tell me more about the kind of man I am. Coming from you? That’s fucking hilarious.” Your chest tightened. “What is going on?”, you demanded, your voice shaking. Neither answered. Because Jin wasn’t done with Yoongi yet. “You want to talk about being a liar and disgusting?”, he continued, his tone sharper now, “Should we talk about how your lies ruined MY life? Or how you prey on young, innocent, financially unstable women? How you pay them to spend time with you? Or is all of that different because it’s you?” Silence followed. Yoongi went still. Something dangerous flickering in his expression. “That’s none of your business.”, he said lowly. Jin smirked, “No? Seems relevant to the current situation.”
“Enough!”, you snapped. Your voice cut through the chaos but the damage was already done. The two men were taken to opposite ends of the boat and then it turned back shortly after. No one said it out loud but everyone knew the trip was over.
That night the cabin felt too quiet with everyone keeping their distance from each other. You sat on the porch, wrapped in a light blanket, staring out at the darkness. Your mind wouldn’t stop. Yoongi’s words. Jin’s words. The fight. None of it made sense.
The door creaked softly behind you. You didn’t turn. “You’re going to catch a cold.”, Jungkook said. You smiled softly, “I’m fine.” He stepped out anyway, closing the door behind him before moving to lean against the railing beside you. “That fight wasn’t random.”, he said after a moment of silence. You turned your head slightly, “I figured. Yoongi can be…” Jungkook exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair, “Jin started it.” Your brows furrowed, “What?”
“He made a comment.”, Jungkook said, his voice quieter now, “To Yoongi.” Your stomach flipped, “What kind of comment?” Jungkook hesitated, “He said something about how he had beat Yoongi again.”
“Again?”, you repeated. Jungkook nodded, his voice quieter now, “He said…this wasn’t even really about dating you to begin with. That you were just a way to beat Yoongi and hurt him in the worst way he could think of. That he’d make sure he was the one to sleep with you first.”, his jaw clenched, “And then he’d leave you and blame it on Yoongi.”
The words hit like a slap. Your stomach dropped, “What?” Silence rang in your ears. Jungkook nodded, “That’s when Yoongi punched him. I think he would’ve killed him if me and Jimin didn’t pull them apart.” Your heart was pounding now. Fast. Because suddenly this wasn’t just tension. This wasn’t just jealousy. This was something deeper. Something that had nothing to do with you and everything to do with you at the same time.
You didn’t just feel confused. You felt like you’d been played. You were just used as part of some twisted game thanks to a rivalry you didn’t even understand. You were on your feet before you even realized it, “I’m leaving,” you said, the words coming out fast, breathless, already turning toward the door, “I’m not staying here another second…” Jungkook grabbed your wrist not hard, but firm enough to stop you, “Hey. Hey Y/N slow down.”
“No.”, you shook your head, “I’m waking Jimin, we’re packing, and we’re going…”
“It’s pitch black out there.”, he cut in, voice sharper now, “Have you seen the road we drove in on? It’s winding, no guardrails in some spots, barely any signal.”, Jungkook continued, stepping closer, “You’re too upset right now. It’s too dangerous.” Your chest rose and fell fast. “I don’t want to be here.”, you whispered. “I know.”, Jungkook said gently, “Just…stay the night. Lock your door. Ignore everyone. Leave first thing in the morning.” You hated that it made sense. “I’m still leaving at sunrise.”, you grumbled. “I’ll wake you up and cook you breakfast if you want.”, he smiled, “I promise.” You nodded. He gave your arm a small squeeze before heading back inside, the door closing softly behind him.
But you couldn’t go stay in that room. Not with your thoughts. Not with everything pressing in on you like that. So you walked. Down the path. Past the trees. Until the cabin lights faded behind you and the lake came into view.
The dock creaked softly under your weight as you stepped onto it, wrapping your arms around yourself as you sat at the edge. The air was colder there. It helped. You stared out at the water, trying to quiet your thoughts. Trying to make sense of something that refused to make sense.
Everything felt like a game you didn’t know the rules to and you were so, so tired of being a piece in it. Footsteps echoed softly behind you. You didn’t turn at first. The dock shifted slightly as he stepped onto it. Closer. Closer. Then he sat down beside you. Not too close.
You immediately stood, “I’m leaving.”
“Just…wait.”, he’s said. You hesitated. Then slowly sat back down. Not looking at him. “What?”, you asked quietly. He just stared out at the water like you had been. Yoongi sighed, “Ever since I was a kid I’ve hated him.” You frowned slightly, glancing at him. “Jin.”, he clarified. He continued, “When we were kids…he had everything.” His voice was steady but there was something beginning to waver underneath it. He continued, “His mom married into money at a young age. He grew up with big houses. Nice clothes. Vacations every year.”, he said. “My parents struggled. My dad…”, he trailed off, then huffed a quiet breath, “He drank. A lot. Most of his money went to alcohol and gambling…and other women.”
Your chest tightened slightly. The apple didn’t fall from the tree you thought for a second.
“He wasn’t exactly subtle about it either.”, Yoongi added dryly, “My mom did what she could. But it was just her, really. It got even worse after my dad died.” You glanced at him again. His expression hadn’t changed much. “I used to go to bed hungry.”, he said plainly, “My clothes were old and outdated. We moved from place to place always trying to find somewhere cheaper.”
“I remember going to their house sometimes.”, he continued, “Seeing the way they lived. The things they had. The way no one ever worried about anything.” His lips pressed together slightly, “And I hated him for it. We’re so close in age and it seemed so unfair.” Silence stretched between you.
“I told myself one day I’d be on that side.”, he said quietly, “No matter what it took I’d never worry about money ever again.” Yoongi took a shaky breath then continued, “My mom needed a life saving heart surgery when I was a teenager.” Your head turned fully to look at him now. “She couldn’t afford it.”, he said, “Not even close. We asked his family for help. They said no. Said that she should’ve made better choices in her life.”Something sharp flickered across his face. Gone just as quickly, “So I took care of it myself.”
“How?”, you asked, already knowing you might not like the answer. He didn’t look at you when he said it, “I stole one of my aunt’s necklaces. It was custom made in Italy. One of a kind. I sold it.”, he continued, “Paid for the surgery. I told my mom I’d won a lottery.” Your heart was pounding now. “And then…when my Aunt started looking for her necklace…I framed it on Jin.” The words landed quietly but they hit hard.
You stared at him, “…Yoongi.” He finally looked at you. There was no pride there. No justification. Just truth. “I was a kid.”, he said simply, “Angry. Desperate. Scared. I didn’t think past fixing what was in front of me and saving my mother.”
“What happened?”, you asked. “They believed it.”, he said, “Jin was sent off to military school for three years as a punishment and his parents never really trusted him fully again.” Your chest twisted.
“That’s when it started.”, he said, “The rivalry. The resentment. The…whatever this is now.” You looked back out at the water. Trying to process all of it. “This…you…is all just a game to him.”, Yoongi said finally. Something in your chest sank because even though you already knew that, hearing it out loud was worse.
You stared out at the lake, but your focus wasn’t there anymore. It was on everything he’d just said. Your gaze dropped to his mouth. The cut on his lip had darkened and scabbed over. He had a bruise forming on his cheek. You hesitated for half a second. Then reached out. Your fingers brushed it light, careful. Yoongi flinched. A sharp inhale slipping through his teeth. “Sorry.”, you murmured, instinctively pulling back. “It’s fine.”, he said quickly, though his voice came out a little rougher than usual, “I’ve had worse.” You huffed softly, “I don’t doubt that.”
Your hand hovered for a moment before settling back in your lap. Silence crept in again. Not as heavy as before but not easy either. “He shouldn’t have said that.”, Yoongi muttered after a moment, his jaw tightening slightly, “What he said about you. I know Jungkook told you.”
You didn’t respond right away. Your gaze dropped to the wood of the dock beneath you. “I didn’t even think.”, he continued, quieter now, “I just…”, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head, “I saw red when I heard him reduce you to that.” You glanced at him again and for once he looked…unfiltered. No walls. No control. Something that looked a lot like regret.
You said quietly, “You don’t get to act like you’re much better.” Yoongi went still. You didn’t look away this time. Didn’t soften it. “Maybe you didn’t say it like that.”, you continued, your voice steady even though you felt dizzy, “but you still used me in a way too. The only difference is…”, your throat tightened slightly, but you forced the words out anyway, “…you compensated me for it.”
Yoongi didn’t interrupt. Didn’t argue. He just sat there. Taking it. Your fingers curled into your sleeves slightly because it felt awful to say but it felt worse not to. “You made it clear what it was.”, you added more quietly, “An arrangement. Terms. Boundaries. The only reason you didn’t push for sex was because I said no from the start.”
Yoongi’s jaw tightened. His gaze dropped to the dock between you. Finally he whispered, “…Y/N that’s not all you were to me.” You let out a small, tired laugh, “You don’t get to rewrite it now just to make it seem like you were better than him.”
“I’m not rewriting anything.”, he said quietly. “Then what are you doing?”, you shot back, turning toward him fully now, “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re trying to make yourself feel better…look better.” His eyes snapped to yours, “I’m trying to tell you the truth.”
“Now?”, you challenged, “Now you want to be honest?” Something in his expression shifted. “I was honest.”, he said, his voice lower now, “About the arrangement. About what I could give you.” You shook your head, “That’s not what we’re talking about and you know it.” Yoongi didn’t answer and the silence that followed said more than anything he could have. “I didn’t know how.”, he admitted finally, barely above a whisper. You swallowed.
Your eyes dropped again because that wasn’t the answer you wanted. But it was the one that made the most sense. The night stretched around you, quiet and still. And for the first time since all of this started it didn’t feel like a game anymore. It was something more complicated. Something neither of you knew how to fix.
“I’m leaving in the morning.”, the words came out softer than you expected. Yoongi didn’t react right away. He just nodded once, like he’d already been expecting it. “Yeah.”, he said quietly, “I figured.” You looked down at your hands. “I can’t stay here.”, you added, even though you didn’t really need to explain it, “Not with…all of this.” He nodded, “I know.”
There was no pushback. No attempt to stop you and for some reason that hurt a little too. “I don’t blame you.”, he continued, his voice low, “You shouldn’t have been dragged into any of this anyway.” A part of you had expected him to fight you on it. To say something…anything to get you to stay. But instead he just accepted it.
You nodded faintly. Neither of you said anything after that because there wasn’t really anything left to say.
The next morning you moved quickly and quietly zipping your bag, slipping on your shoes, trying not to let your thoughts catch up to you. Jimin hovered nearby, equally silent for once. “You ready?”, he whispered. You nodded, “Yeah let’s go.”
Before leaving you paused in the kitchen. You grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, hesitating only for a moment before writing.
Thank you for your hospitality. I’m sorry for not saying goodbye in person. I’m sure you all will understand. I really appreciated the stay.
-Y/N
You set the note down gently. Then turned and left. The drive back home felt longer than the one up. Quieter also. Jimin didn’t push. Didn’t ask questions. Just let you sit with it. You weren’t sure if you appreciated that or not.
Once back at home a week passed. Then another. Life finally settled back into something that looked almost normal again. No Yoongi. No Jin. Work. Home. Jimin. It was the routine you were used to.
Every now and then you would think about the dock. About what he said. About what you said. And it would all come rushing back before you would distract yourself.
A package arrived on a Tuesday afternoon. You almost didn’t notice it at first. Just a small white box with a pastel pink ribbon sitting outside your door. Unassuming and simple. You brought it inside and set it on the table. Stared at it for a while longer than necessary. Then you took a deep breath and finally opened it up.
A dozen Macarons. Perfectly arranged in soft colors. The kind you only saw in expensive bakeries that you could never afford. Your fingers hovered over them. Pistachio, strawberry, vanilla, and caramel. Then you noticed it. A folded piece of paper tucked neatly to the side. Your heart started beating faster. You picked it up and recognized his handwriting immediately.
I didn’t know what else to say that night.
So I’m trying now.
No expectations. No arrangements. No games.
Just you and me.
Paris.
Only if you want to of course.
—Yoongi
It was him trying in the only way he knew how. You stared at the words. Then back at the macarons. Then back at the words again.
Paris. Just you and him. No drama. No expectations. No games. Your fingers tightened slightly around the paper.
Because part of you, a very small part, wanted to believe that. Wanted to say yes. Wanted to see what it would be like if everything else was stripped away. If it really was just the two of you being together, how would it go?
But another part of you, the bigger part, remembered everything. The way everything always seemed to get complicated around him.
Your heart pulled in two different directions and you didn’t know which one to listen to. You exhaled slowly, sinking into the chair. The note still in your hands. The box of macarons untouched in front of you. Whatever choice you made next…you knew there was no going back from it.
Warnings: Drinking, Sugar Daddying, Swearing, talks of prostitution, maybe a tiny hint of slut shaming?, Sick pet, mentions of vet clinics and surgery, Whore used as an insult
Word Count: 3,192
Please let me know if I’ve missed anyone that wants to be tagged! Also it helps to let me know if you want to be added to the permanent tag list or just the series one. ♥️
Link to my Yoongi master list that has all of the other chapters as well as a ton of other things!
Chapter 6- Tiramisu & Moscato D’Asti
Yoongi didn’t stay. He couldn’t. The second it registered, something in him cracked hard enough to hurt so he walked away. Behind him, Mia watched it all unfold with quiet satisfaction, her lips curving slightly as she took a slow sip of her drink. “Messy, Mesy, messy.”, she murmured under her breath and she looked pleased about it.
You didn’t see him leave. You were still standing there close to Jin. Still trying to steady your breathing. Still trying to ignore the way your heart wasn’t reacting the way you wanted it to. Jin pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression soft. “You okay?”, he asked quietly. You nodded a little too quickly, “Yeah…Yeah, I’m okay.” A small breath of a laugh left you. There was a pause, “Y/N…Can I get your number?” The question landed softly. No pressure. No expectation. Your fingers curled slightly at your side. You hesitated. Because somewhere in the back of your mind…Yoongi. You pushed it down. Forced it down actually. He made it clear that you were nothing to him any more.
You lifted your gaze back to Jin. You chose something for you for once, “Yeah.…okay.” His smile widened just slightly. He handed his phone over, watching as you typed your name in. It was a simple interaction. No confusion attached to it. You handed it back, fingers brushing his briefly. “I’ll text you.”, he said. And for the first time all night you didn’t feel heavy.
“Okay, wait…who was that?”, Jimin said as soon as you walked in the door. You exhaled, already knowing what was coming, “No one.”
“No one?”, he repeated with brows raised, “That man was not a ‘no one.” You huffed a laugh despite yourself, “His name is Jin.”
“Mhmm.”, he hummed, unconvinced, “And the part where you were kissing him?” You shot him a look, “You were spying on me?”
“I was monitoring.”, he corrected, “For your safety.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice in a teasing whisper, “So…what are we thinking here? New sugar daddy?” You choked on a drink, “Jimin…”
“I’m just saying.”, he shrugged, completely unapologetic, “upgrade potential seems very high with this one.” You shook your head, but the corner of your mouth betrayed you with a small smile, “It’s not like that this time.” But he wasn’t wrong about one thing. You were moving on or at least you were trying to.
A couple weeks passed after that event and somewhere in between late-night overthinking and pretending you were fine during the day, your life started to shift into something that looked almost normal again. Jin texted. Not constantly. Not in an overwhelming way. But consistently. Like he actually cared about you in a way that make then something pretty to look at.
Good morning messages that were cheesy in an adorable way. Check-ins that didn’t feel like obligations but genuine. Random photos, stupid jokes, quiet “thinking about you” moments that didn’t demand anything in return.
And when you saw him again it felt easy. Dinner turned into a walk. A walk turned into lingering outside your apartment door which turned into another kiss. Conversations that went on longer than they needed to. No pressure. No confusion. No mixed signals and you wanted that. You needed that after the last several months dealing with Yoongi.
“You look happy.”, Jimin’s voice cut through your thoughts as he dropped onto your couch one evening, eyeing you suspiciously. You glanced up from your phone, “I am happy.” He tilted his head curiously. You sighed, “What?”
“Nothing.”, he said, dragging the word out, “Just…checking.” You rolled your eyes, but your gaze drifted back to your phone.
Jin: Dinner tonight? I found a place I think you’ll like. They have best tiramisu you will ever have.
A small smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it. Jimin saw it immediately. “There it is.”, he said. You threw a pillow at him, “Shut up.” He caught it easily, grinning, “So when do I officially meet him?” You hesitated. Jimin’s expression shifted slightly, “You are moving forward with this right?”, he asked more quietly. You nodded, “I am.” And it wasn’t a lie. Not entirely at least.
Dinner that night was supposed to be simple. You had gotten ready without overthinking it, just enough effort to feel good, your favorite dress, the one that fell at just the right length, soft makeup to highlight your features without screaming for attention. Jin had arrived right on time, leaning against his car with that calm, grounding smile that always made your chest loosen.
“You look nice Y/N.”, he said as you slid into the passenger seat. “Just nice?”, you teased. “Exquisitely nice.”, he corrected. You laughed softly, the sound lighter than it had been in months, “That’s better.”
The drive to the restaurant was nice but easy. Comfortable music, shared smiles, casual conversation that didn’t feel like anything was expected of you. Jin had this way of making everything feel effortless. For a while it stayed that way. Until you walked into the restaurant.
It was subtle at first, a prickle along the back of your neck, an almost imperceptible tension threading through the room. But when your eyes landed on him, it hit like a punch. Yoongi sitting across the room.
He was seated at a table with a woman you didn’t recognize. She had effortless elegance, laughing at something he said, brushing her hair behind her ear. Your steps faltered for a fraction of a second. Enough for Jin to notice. His gaze flicked to you, then followed yours and he saw him too. Something in Jin’s expression shifted, not confusion, not jealousy, just awareness of the situation. You forced yourself to keep moving.
“Table for two?”, the hostess asked with a smile. “Yeah.”, Jin answered without hesitation, his voice steady. You took a deep breath, smiled like everything was normal and let him lead you to your table.
Sitting down, you picked up the menu, pretending to read while your mind kept drifting back across the room. Across the space that seemed impossibly wide now, Yoongi’s eyes had already found you and when your gaze met, just for a second, it was enough. Enough for everything unsaid, everything unresolved, to pass between you and all the emotions to bubble up inside you all at once. Then he looked away first. Like it didn’t matter. Like you didn’t matter.
Your chest tightened. Fine. You straightened your shoulders, forced your attention back to Jin and let your smile ease onto your lips. “So.”, you said softly, leaning closer to him, “what should I order tonight?” Jin’s brows lifted, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, “Depends. Are you trusting me to make such an important decision?”
“Should I?”, you asked, tilting your head, your voice a little lighter, a little softer. “I’d like to think so.”, he said, eyes warm and steady. Your hand brushed against his arm but you didn’t pull away immediately. His gaze flicked down at the contact, then back to your eyes, holding your attention with a quiet intensity. “Well then…I trust you.”, you murmured and let the corner of your mouth lift.
Across the room, Yoongi saw that. Saw the way your fingers lingered. Saw the way you leaned in toward him, the way Jin responded. Something sharp twisted in his chest, tightening his jaw. His own hand shifted around the glass he held, a small, unconscious tightening that betrayed him. He pushed further, leaning closer to his date, letting his attention look deliberate, intimate, like she was all that mattered. He smiled at her. Encouraged her laughter. Engaged in the way he used to engage with you.
And you saw it. Out of the corner of your eye. So you leaned in closer to Jin, matching him, letting your hand trail along his sleeve just slightly longer, letting your laughter hang a little longer in the air. He noticed. His brows lifted slightly, surprised, but he didn’t pull away. He leaned closer, mirroring you completely. “Y/N you’re different tonight.”, he murmured quietly. “Good different or bad different?”, you asked, a small, teasing smile tugging at your lips. “…Very good.”, he said, eyes locking with yours. And for a second, you allowed yourself to forget about the man across the room. Almost.
Across the room, Yoongi didn’t miss a single motion. Not your laughter, not the way your hand lingered on Jin’s arm, not the way Jin leaned in, completely attuned to you. His jaw tightened further to the point it was painful. That sharp twist in his chest coiled tighter. So he pushed himself, leaned closer to his date, let his hand hover near hers with the same practiced intimacy.
Two tables. Two different conversations. Two different people. But the same tension. The same pull. The same unspoken message hanging in the air: look at me instead.
Jin’s gaze flicked briefly toward Yoongi, just for a heartbeat. Recognition passed in silence. Something heavier settled in his expression. Not confusion. Not curiosity. Something far more complex. And you realized, with a quiet twist of panic in your chest, that you hadn’t just moved on. You had stepped straight into the middle of a storm that had been brewing long before you arrived.
•••••••••••
When you got the call a couple weeks later you should’ve said no. That thought followed you in your rental car the entire drive up the mountain. The road twisted higher and higher, trees growing denser, the air cooler and quieter like the world you knew was slowly being left behind with every mile.
“This is nice.”, Jimin said from the passenger seat, stretching his arms above his head, “…Very rich people escape to the mountains to hide from their problems vibe.” You huffed a small laugh, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, “You didn’t have to come.”
“Please.”, he scoffed, “You think I’m letting you go on a ‘family vacation’ up in the mountains with a man you’ve known for, what…five minutes? That sounds like a horror movie waiting to happen.”
You didn’t argue because he wasn’t entirely wrong. This was moving fast. A little too fast. Jin had casually mentioned it over dinner. “My family has a place in the mountains.”, he said, like it was nothing, “We’re all going up for a few days. You should come if you want to.” He smiled soft and reassuring, “It’s just a trip. No pressure. You’ll like them.” You stupidly said yes at the last minute.
Now, pulling up to the cabin, you weren’t so sure. It was beautiful. Warm lights glowing from inside, smoke curling from the chimney. It looked perfect. If there was snow it would look like something straight off a Christmas card.
“Too late to turn around?”, you questioned. Jimin snorted but was already out of the car and walking towards the porch anyway. You barely had time to respond before your eyes landed on someone sitting on the porch and everything in you went still, “…no way.” Jimin leaned forward, squinting, “Wait…”
The guy looked up and froze. You froze. Jimin froze. “Jungkook?”, you blurted out. He stood up so fast the chair behind him scraped loudly against the wood, “Y/N?”
“What are you doing here?”, the three of you said at the same time. Silence followed. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking very much like he’d rather be anywhere else, “I…uh…what are you doing here?”
“I was invited.”, you said, brows furrowing, “By Jin…”
“Oh.”, he cut in quickly, “Yeah. Right. Jin.”
Something about the way he said it like he was being careful made it seem suspicious. Jimin crossed his arms, already narrowing his eyes, “Why do I feel like no one’s being honest right now?”
“I am being honest.”, Jungkook insisted, though his voice betrayed him just slightly. Before it could spiral further the front door opened. An older woman stepped out, her presence immediately shifting the energy. Elegant and warm. The old money type.
“Oh.”, she said, smiling as her gaze landed on you, “You must be Y/N.” You straightened slightly, “Yes, ma’am. Hello. She approached with an easy grace, her smile kind but her eyes sharp taking everything in. “I’m so glad you made it.”, she said, reaching for your hands briefly, “Jin told us you might come.” You glanced at Jungkook, who suddenly found a rock on the ground very interesting.
“And this must be your friend?”, she asked. “Jimin.”, he said smoothly, stepping forward with a polite smile, “Big fan of mountains. Love trees and other outdoor…thingies.” You elbowed him in his ribs. She laughed softly, “Well, I’m happy you’re all here. Come inside it’s getting late.” She walked you through the door and Jin met you guys in the hallway.
“Jin my son. I found your friends outside.”, she said. Your chest tightened just a little. Jin stepped out, his expression relaxing the moment he saw you. “I’m glad you guys made it safely.”, he said, walking over, his hand brushing lightly against your arm. He handed you a glass, “Moscato d’Asti. It’s super sweet. Just like you.”, he winked. “Th-thanks.”, you said, still a little overwhelmed by everything.
“Mom.”, he added, “this is the one I told you about.” The one. Your stomach flipped. She smiled knowingly, “I figured that much since you invited her here.” Before you could process that she was already guiding you further inside, “Come, come. Everyone’s been waiting to meet you.”
The warmth of the cabin wrapped around you instantly. The smell of wood, garlic and onions cooking, quiet conversation drifting from the living room. It felt homey. You stepped further in, Jimin close behind you, Jungkook trailing awkwardly. “Everyone.”, Jin’s mother called, “this is Y/N and her friend Jimin.”
A man looked up first. He looked like an older, more composed Jin. You figured he must be his father. He gave you a polite nod, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.”, you replied. Next, a woman, Jin’s Aunt apparently, warm smile, curious yet familiar eyes. “And this.”, Jin’s mom continued, turning slightly, “is my nephew…” Your heart dropped before you even saw his face. Because you already knew just by the silhouette. “…Yoongi.”, she finished.
Silence followed. Yoongi looked up slowly from where he was sitting on the couch. And when your eyes met…Everything stopped. Shock flickered across his face but it was gone just as quickly as it came. But you saw it. You felt it because you were sure your own expression mirrored it exactly. “…you’ve got to be kidding me.”, Jimin whispered under his breath. Jungkook shifted awkwardly behind you. And Jin…he didn’t look surprised at all.
Your pulse started pounding in your ears. “You know each other?”, Jin’s mother asked slightly aware of the tension that had just flooded the room. No one answered right away. Because how could you? How could you explain this? Your former sugar daddy, the man you were trying to move on from was sitting right there. In the middle of the family you just walked into. Watching you with a look you couldn’t quite read. But one thing was suddenly, painfully clear…This wasn’t a coincidence.
You and Yoongi continued to just stare at each other. He was looking at you like he was trying to figure out if you were actually real. Like if he blinked, you might disappear. You felt frozen in place. Your heart beating too fast, your thoughts tripping over each other, your body not quite catching up to what your brain was screaming. You thought you should Say something. But you couldn’t because what could you say?
“Oh, hey, didn’t expect to see you at your cousin’s family cabin after we ended whatever that weird sugar daddy arrangement was between us and I tried to move on with said cousin—”
Yeah. No. Not happening. Behind you, “Wait…no, that means…”, Jimin whispered sharply turning to glare at the guy behind him. “I’m telling you, I didn’t know he had invited you here.”, Jungkook whispered back, just as frantic, “How would I know that??”
“Because you know everything Mr. Nosy pants.”, Jimin hissed.
“I did not know this!”, Jungkook whisper yelled back. You closed your eyes for half a second trying to drown out the noise Across from you Jin shifted slightly and when you glanced at him you saw a smirk. Small and controlled but unmistakable. That felt like something intentional.
Before you could even process that you saw movement from the hallway. A woman walked in and she didn’t hesitate. She walked straight over to Yoongi and sat down next to him practically on his lap like she was more than comfortable there.
Your breath caught because the second she settled beside him her hand slid up his arm to rest around his bicep. Slow and intimate like it was second nature. Your chest tightened so suddenly it hurt. You didn’t need an introduction. You knew exactly what that was. You hated that watching him allow her to be so close like that while he had kept you at a distance made you jealous. You hated that he had someone else already. But why wouldn’t he? It’s all just business to him.
“Ahhh.”, Jin’s mother’s voice broke through the tension, bright and warm, “And this is Yuri.” You swallowed. She smiled at you kindly, “Yoongi’s girlfriend.” Girlfriend. The word echoed in your head. Yoongi straightened immediately, “She’s not…” But Yuri just laughed like it was all a joke. “Oh my god stop being so shy.”, she giggled, cutting him off as she leaned and kissed his cheek. Your stomach dropped even more.
You didn’t hear whatever Yoongi said after that. Didn’t catch the way his body went rigid. Didn’t see the flash of irritation in his eyes. Because all you could focus on was that. Her hand still on him. Her lips brushing his skin like it meant something to both of them. And suddenly you didn’t know what you were feeling any more. A sharp, ugly twist in your chest that made it hard to breathe. You didn’t know if you wanted to cry. Or laugh. Or throw up. Or just run. Because this was too much. Your fingers curled slightly at your sides, nails pressing into your palms as you tried to ground yourself.
But your eyes betrayed you. They flicked back to Yoongi. And this time he wasn’t looking at Yuri. He wasn’t looking at his family. He wasn’t looking anywhere else. He was looking at you. Locked in and intense.
Like he was trying to say something without saying it. Like he was trying to fix something he didn’t know how. Your chest tightened again because you didn’t know what that look meant anymore.
You didn’t know what anything meant anymore and across the room Jin saw all of it. The way your expression shifted. The way Yoongi was looking at you. The way everything in the room had quietly tilted. His smirk didn’t disappear. If anything…it deepened. Like everything was unfolding exactly the way he expected it to.
Warnings: Drinking, Sugar Daddying, Swearing, talks of prostitution, maybe a tiny hint of slut shaming?, Sick pet, mentions of vet clinics and surgery, Whore used as an insult
Word Count: 4,233
Chapter 1- Pastries & Powdered Sugar
Chapter 2- Citrus & Champagne
Chapter 3- Strawberry Mochi & Pina Coladas
Chapter 4- Muffins & Honey Fried Chicken
Chapter 5- Lemon Cookies & Caramel Macchiatos
Yoongi stood there in the entrance way of the vet clinic. Slightly out of breath. Hair a little messy. Eyes scanning your face. You blinked confused, “What…?” Then the realization hit you. Your stomach dropped, “I…I meant to text Jimin.”, you stammered. Realization also flickered across his face but he didn’t leave. He didn’t hesitate. He stepped closer instead. “What happened?” he asked as he took a seat next to you.
Your lip trembled before you could stop it, “It’s Sir Fuzzy Paws. He…he wasn’t breathing right and they took him back and now they’re in emergency surgery on his airway and I don’t…” Your voice broke completely and before you could stop yourself you reached for him. Yoongi didn’t hesitate. He caught you immediately, steadying you as your hands gripped his jacket. “Hey.”, he whispered, one hand firm against your back, “Hey…he’s going to be okay.” You shook your head against him, tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt, “I don’t know that.”
“I know.”, he said softly, “But you’re not alone right now, okay?” Your fingers tightened slightly around his jacket. Yoongi didn’t leave. Not when you pulled away from him. Not when you sat back down in the stiff waiting room chair, wiping at your face with shaking hands. Not even when the silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable. He just stayed like that’s exactly where he was supposed to be.
“You want some water?”, he asked softly after some time. You nodded without really thinking. He was back in seconds from the vending machine, pressing the cold bottle into your hands like he’d done this a hundred times before, like taking care of you wasn’t new. You took a sip, your fingers still trembling slightly. “Do you want me to call Jimin?”, he asked after a moment. You shook your head, “No…it’s okay.” He nodded in understanding with maybe even the tiniest bit of relief.
At one point your leg started bouncing uncontrollably, your thoughts spiraling into worst-case scenarios you couldn’t stop. “He’s going to be okay.”, Yoongi’s voice cut through it gently. Your fingers curled tighter around the water bottle. “And I know he’s stubborn.”, he added, “He’d have to be to love you.” You let out a weak, watery laugh. “There she is.”, he murmured. You didn’t realize until then how tightly wound your chest had been.
At some point, your hand ended up in his. You didn’t remember reaching for him. He didn’t acknowledge it either. Just laced his fingers through yours and held on.
When the vet finally came out your entire body snapped to attention. You stood so fast your chair scraped loudly against the floor. “He’s okay.”, the vet said quickly, offering you a reassuring smile, “The surgery went well. We’ll keep him for a few days for some observation and then he’ll be good to go home. You can go see him now if you’d like.”
Relief hit you so hard your knees nearly gave out. “Thank you, thank you so much.”, you breathed, already moving. You barely registered anything else as you hurried down the hallway towards the door that they pointed to. Halfway there you slowed. Something felt off. You turned slightly. Yoongi wasn’t behind you. He was still standing near the waiting area. Like he hadn’t planned on following. Your chest tightened, “Yoongi?” He looked up immediately. You hesitated for half a second. Then you held your hand out, “Come with me…please.” There was no pause this time. No hesitation in his end. He was moving toward you before you even finished speaking. “Yeah”, he said quietly, “Of course.”
Sir Fuzzy Paws looked small and weak. Curled up in a soft blanket with little tubes and monitors attached, his breathing slow but steady. Your heart clenched painfully as you stepped closer. “Hey, baby…”, you whispered, crouching beside him. His ear twitched faintly at your voice. That was all it took. Tears welled in your eyes again but softer this time. More relived than scared.
“He’s strong.”, Yoongi said quietly from beside you. You glanced up at him. He was watching your cat carefully, his expression gentler than you’d ever seen it.
A few days later, you stood at the front desk of the same vet clinic, your stomach twisting into nervous knots. Sir Fuzzy Paws was better. He was still a little groggy, still needing care and some speciality medications, but alive and coming home. That was all that mattered.
Now came the part you’d been dreading.
Payment. Thankfully you had a little emergency fund set aside for vet visits and things like that but an emergency surgery along with follow ups and medications was going to be much more than you were prepared for.
You shifted your weight slightly as the receptionist typed something into the computer. “Alright.”, she said after a moment, smiling and handing you some paperwork, “You’re all set!” You blinked, “Oh…uh, I think there’s been a mistake. I haven’t paid yet.” She tilted her head slightly, “No mistake. It’s already been taken care of.” She doubled checked to make sure and nodded, “Yes and there’s also been additional funds set aside in your account for follow-ups and medication.”
Your heart started beating faster. Because you already knew. You didn’t need to ask. You just knew.
The moment you got home, you pulled out your phone. Your fingers hovered for a second. Then typed anyway.
Thank you. You really shouldn’t have.
It took less than a minute for him to reply.
For what?
You sighed.
For the vet bill, Yoongi.
He responded
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
You stared at the screen. Your brows furrowed. That familiar mix of frustration and something softer curling in your chest.
You don’t have to pretend. I know it was you.
He responded right away
I’m not pretending.
Your grip tightened slightly on your phone.
That same night, a few packages showed up. You sighed as you carried them inside, setting them on your table. Curiosity got the better of you quickly.
You opened the first box. Luxury cat food. The expensive kind you always looked at but never bought. The second was a ridiculously soft bed that looked nicer than your own. The third was filled with Toys. Treats. Medication organizers. Even a tiny little sweater with a bunch of pieces of sushi on it.
Your throat tightened because there was no note. No name. Nothing. But you knew. “Yoongi…”, you whispered to yourself shaking your head.
You didn’t sleep much that night. Your brain refused to be quiet. Why would he do this? After everything. After ending things. After moving on. Why was he still taking care of you like this? Why was he pretending he wasn’t? What did it mean? Did it even mean anything? Or was this just…him?
Your chest twisted at that thought. Because if it was just him then maybe it didn’t mean what you wanted it to mean.
By morning, you were exhausted and done thinking in circles. You needed answers.
His office building felt just as intimidating as the first time you walked in. You stepped up to the front desk. His secretary looked up and immediately recognized you. You nodded, “Is he available?” She hesitated slightly, “He’s in a meeting right now.” You exhaled slowly the memory of the past creeping in, “I’ll wait.” She studied you for a second, then smiled gently, “Of course.”
A few minutes later you were seated in the waiting area with a cup of coffee she’d handed you. It was really good coffee. Everything about Yoongi’s world was like that. Carefully chosen and intentional. Maybe that’s why you struggled with how you fit in it.
You stared down into the cup, your reflection faint in the surface. Your thoughts started spiraling again. About the bill. The packages. The way he showed up at the vet without hesitation. The way he held your hand like nothing had changed. Your grip tightened slightly around the cup. “Seriously.”, you muttered under your breath, “What are you doing, Min Yoongi…”
The box of lemon cookies you had baked for him rested neatly in your lap. You kept adjusting it. Straightening the ribbon. Smoothing the edges of the lid like it would help.
Your thoughts were starting to spiral again. Then his door opened. You looked up too fast. Yoongi stepped out mid-conversation, sleeves rolled slightly, tie loosened just enough to look effortless instead of messy. He didn’t see you right away.
“…yeah, just send me the numbers before six.”, he said glancing down at something on his phone in his hand. The guy he was talking to nodded, then grinned a little, “You going tonight?” Yoongi barely reacted, “Do I have a choice?” The guy laughed, “Fair. You taking that woman you met the other day? The one waitress from the sushi restaurant?”
Something in your chest tightened. You didn’t mean to listen. You really didn’t. But the words landed anyway. Yoongi didn’t answer right away and for a second your heart did something stupid. Hopeful. Curious. You shut it down immediately. It’s none of your business.
You dropped your gaze to the cookies in your lap, focusing on the little crease in the ribbon like it was suddenly fascinating. Whatever he said next you didn’t hear it. You didn’t want to.
A second later, footsteps moved closer, “Y/N…hey.” Your head lifted. There he was. Looking at you like he hadn’t expected this but wasn’t entirely surprised either. “Hey.”, you said, standing a little too quickly, “Um…sorry, I didn’t mean to just show up like this. I can come back if you’re busy…” There was a brief pause before he gestured toward his office, “Come in.” You followed him in, the familiar space somehow feeling different now or maybe it was just you.
He closed the door behind you and suddenly it was uncomfortably quieter. “So.”, he said, turning toward you, “what’s up?” You held the box out toward him before you could overthink it, “I, um…baked these for you as a…thank you.” His brows lifted slightly, “You baked?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”, you grumbled. A faint hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he took the box from you, “I’m not. Just… impressed.” He opened it and for a second, something in his expression softened in a way that made your chest ache. “Lemon white chocolate chip.”, you added, suddenly self-conscious, “They’re…um…good. I think so at least.”
“I’m sure they are.”, he said quietly. He closed the lid again, setting the box carefully on his desk, “Thank you.” You nodded, “Yeah.”
A small silence settled in. He leaned back slightly against the edge of his desk, arms crossing loosely, “How’s Sir Fuzzy Paws?” Your shoulders relaxed just a little, “He’s okay. He’s definitely milking this, but…hes okay.” Your fingers twisted together slightly, “Yoongi…” He stilled. There it was, that subtle shift. That awareness that something was about to happened.
“Why did you show up…that night?”, you asked. His expression didn’t change, “You texted me.” You blinked, “That’s not…what I meant.” He gave a small casual shrug, “I was nearby.” You knew that was a lie. Your jaw tightened slightly, “And the bill?”
You saw it. The tiniest flicker in his eyes before he looked away, reaching for something on his desk that he didn’t actually need. When he realized you weren’t going to let it go he sighed softly, like this was already exhausting, “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is to me.”, you nodded. He shook his head, still not looking at you, “You needed help. I helped.”This time you shook your head, “That’s not what we agreed on.” That made him pause. Finally, he looked up at you, “Just because we ended things…that doesn’t mean I’m going to just ignore it if something happens to you.” Your chest tightened, “But it means you don’t get to act like this.”
“Like what?”, he questioned. “Like you still…”, you stopped yourself, the words catching in your throat. Like you still care. You couldn’t say it. Not out loud. Not when he wasn’t supposed to care at all to begin with. His gaze lingered on you, like he knew exactly what you didn’t finish. “Like I still what?”, he pressed quietly. You shook your head, stepping back slightly, “You don’t get to pick and choose when you’re in my life, Yoongi.”
Something in his expression sharpened at that, “Y/N I’m not trying to be in your life.” The words hit harder than you expected. “Oh.”, you said softly. That…stung a lot. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, “That’s not…what I meant. I’m not trying to insert myself back into anything. But I’m also not going to pretend you don’t matter when something like that happens.” Your heart twisted painfully, “You can’t have it both ways.” He chuckled slightly, “I’m not.”
“You are.”, you insisted, your voice wavering now despite your best effort, “You don’t get to end things and then show up like nothing changed.” His jaw clenched slightly, “I didn’t show up like nothing changed. You’re the one that texted me…whether you meant to or not. You’re the one that keeps showing up to my office…uninvited.”
“Then what was that?”, you asked, stepping closer again, frustration bubbling up, “You didn’t seem to show up just because I texted you. You were holding my hand, sitting with me, paying for everything…what was that supposed to be?”
He sat silently and watched you for a moment. Then he flatly said, “Basic human decency.”The answer sliced right through you. You let out a small, disbelieving laugh, taking a step back like you needed the distance, “Wow.”
“That’s not…”, he started but you cut him off, “No, it’s fine. That’s actually really helpful.” His brows furrowed, “Helpful?”
“Yeah.”, you said, your voice quieter now, “because now I know not to read into it.” His expression shifted, “Y/N you shouldn’t have been reading into it in the first place.” That one hurt more than the rest. You swallowed hard, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes, “Right…Of course.” You glanced toward the door, then back at him, “Thanks for…everything. Seriously.” You turned before he could respond. Because if you stayed another second, your strength was going to break and you weren’t about to let him see that.
Later than evening when you opened the door and saw Jimin practically vibrating with excitement, it almost felt like whiplash. “Y/N get dressed.”, he said already walking towards your bedroom. You blinked, “Hello to you too?”
“I won tickets.”, he announced, already laying out dress options for you, “Film festival. Rich people thing. Tonight. Fancy. Free food.” You stared at him, still processing, “Jimin…”
“Before you say no.”, he pointed at you, narrowing his eyes, “you’ve had…a day. I can already tell. You need to get out of your head before you spiral into a full-blown emotional crisis that I will have to pick up the pieces of.” You hesitated because the idea of being around people while pretending to be fine, putting on a smile when your chest still felt tight from earlier, it sounded exhausting.
But staying home? Alone? Thinking about him? Was worse. “…fine.”, you mumbled. Jimin’s grin was immediate, “Knew you’d come to your senses.”
The event really was beautiful. It was being held at an old historical theater. Soft golden lights hung everywhere. A string quartet playing in the background. Waiters moving through the crowd with trays of tiny, perfect appetizers that somehow tasted better than full meals. It was the kind of place Yoongi fit into effortlessly. You tried not to think about that.
Jimin stayed close, thankfully keeping you distracted, making dumb comments about people’s outfits, handing you drinks you didn’t ask for but somehow needed.
And for a little while you actually forgot.
Until your world stopped. It wasn’t really noticeable at first. Just a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye. A familiar silhouette. A presence you knew before your brain could even catch up. Your stomach dropped. Slowly, against your better judgment, your gaze shifted and there he was across the room. Yoongi.
Dressed in black like he always was, clean, sharp, effortless. One hand in his pocket, the other holding a drink as someone spoke to him.But he wasn’t really listening. You could tell. Because his eyes…they were scanning.
This must be it. The event he was talking about. The one you heard earlier. The one you didn’t want to hear about. Your heart started beating faster. You turned immediately.
“Nope.”, you whispered under your breath “What?”, Jimin asked, mid-sentence. “Nothing…I just…I need space.” You didn’t wait for a response. You slipped through the crowd as smoothly as you could, trying not to draw attention, trying not to look back. The doors to the balcony came into view, and you pushed through them quickly.
Cool air hit your skin instantly. You exhaled, your shoulders dropping slightly as the noise from inside dulled behind you. “Careful.”, The voice made you freeze. You turned slowly. Mia was standing there.
Of course she was because events like this seemed to attract the same groups of people. She stood near the railing, a glass of champagne in hand, looking perfectly composed. Her eyes flicked over you taking in everything. “Well...”, she hummed, a small smile tugging at her lips, “This is unexpected.” You forced yourself to stay where you were. She tilted her head slightly, studying you. Then with a small gesture of her glass, “Come here.” It wasn’t really an invitation. More like a command. You hesitated.
Every instinct told you to turn around. To go back inside. To find Jimin and pretend this never happened. But your feet moved anyway. You stopped a few feet from her. “Y/N I didn’t think I’d see you here.”, she said lightly, “I heard through the grapevine that you’re officially part of the Min Yoongi broken hearts club.”, she chuckled, “It ended faster than I thought.” She took a slow sip of her drink. Your chest tightened, “I’m not here because of him.”
“Of course you’re not.”, she said, almost amused. The condescension stung but you didn’t react. You refused to give her that. Her gaze flicked past you briefly, toward the doors, before returning to you.
“Although.”, she added, “you might want to be careful how you go forward.” Your stomach twisted, “What do you mean?” A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips, “…Yoongi.” You held her gaze, “I think that’s already been handled.” She let out a soft, almost impressed hum. You kept your expression neutral, “That’s not really your concern anyway.” Mia stepped a little closer not enough to invade your space, but enough to feel intentional.
“You know…he’s never been good at ending things cleanly. He drags it out. It’s like a game to him.”, she continued, watching you carefully, “Leaves just enough behind to keep women…confused…wanting more…intrigued enough to still be there when he calls.” Your jaw tightened, “That hasn’t been my experience.” Her brows lifted slightly, “No?”
“No.”; you said, steadier now, “He was pretty clear.”
Basic human decency replayed in your mind.
Mia studied you for a moment longer. “Whatever you need to tell yourself honey.”, she said softly. Mia’s heels clicked softly against the stone as she walked away, unbothered, composed, like she hadn’t just dropped something heavy into your mind and left you to deal with it alone.
You stared out over the balcony, gripping the railing a little tighter than necessary. Her words replayed.
He’s never been good at ending things cleanly. Your stomach twisted. Was that what this was? All of it…the vet, the way he held your hand, the money, the packages…Was it just…being nice? Or worse…Was he keeping you just close enough? Just enough to come back to if he ever changed his mind? Your chest tightened painfully at the thought. Because if that was true then you weren’t special. You were just…available. Another number in his contact list.
Then you felt someone walk up behind you. You froze. For half a second, your heart thudded hard. You turned and blinked. Because it wasn’t who you were expecting.
Not even close.
The man standing in front of you looked like he was just pulled out of a magazine photo shoot. He was tall, had broad shoulders, sharp features softened by an easy, confident smile.
“Sorry.”, he said, hands lifting slightly, “didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” You shook your head quickly, “No it’s fine. I just thought you were someone else.” His lips curved, “Hopefully I’m not a disappointing replacement.”
A small laugh slipped out of you despite everything, “No. You’re…definitely not disappointing.”
“Good.”, he said, “That would’ve been a rough start.”
There was something about him, light, easy, confidence that made it easier to breathe. “I’m Seokjin.”, he added, offering his hand, “But just call me Jin.” You took it, “Y/N.”
“So…”, Jin glanced toward the doors briefly, then back at you, “are you out here to avoid your date?”
“No just needed some air.”, you admitted. He leaned against the railing beside you, close but not overwhelming, “You came alone then?” You shook your head, “No, I’m here with my best friend.” Jin looked you up and down, “Lucky friend.” You glanced at him, surprised. “What?” He shrugged, “You seem like good company is all I’m saying.” Your chest warmed slightly despite your brain going off with red flags.
The conversation came easier than you expected after that. He was funny without trying too hard. Attentive in a way that didn’t feel suffocating. He listened. He asked the right questions. And maybe that’s why you let yourself relax.
Inside, just out of sight Mia smirked. “Well…”, she smiled to herself. A familiar voice beside her, low and already suspicious, “What are you up to you conniving little rat?” Yoongi stepped up next to her, gaze sharp, posture tense in a way that had nothing to do with the party. She didn’t even look at him, “Nothing…Don’t you have to get back to one of your little whores you should be fucking in a closet somewhere right now?” He shook his head, “You’re never not up to something.” She laughed softly, then lifted her glass and pointed toward the balcony, “I’m just watching the drama of the century unfold.”
Yoongi followed her gaze and the moment he saw you his body went still. Because you weren’t alone and he didn’t need to ask who the man was. Of all people. A bitter, humorless huff of air almost left him but it got stuck somewhere in his chest instead. Because the sight in front of him,
You standing close to Jin. Smiling. Relaxed. Comfortable. It did something sharp and immediate to him. Mia watched the recognition settle in his expression, slow and heavy. “Ohhhh.”, she hummed, finally turning to him, “So you weren’t actually ready to throw this one away yet.”
Yoongi didn’t answer. Didn’t look away from the balcony. His jaw tightened slightly, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “It’s a small world.”, she added lightly. His voice, when it came, was quieter. Controlled, “Stay out of it and stay away from Y/N.” Mia smiled, “Oh, this is going to be better than any chaos I could’ve created by getting involved.”
Back on the balcony—
“I feel like I just trauma-dumped on you.”, you said, half-laughing. “I’m all ears.”, Jin said easily. He tilted his head slightly, studying you, “For what it’s worth…you don’t seem like the problem.” Your breath caught, “You don’t even know what the full situation is.” He shook his head, “I don’t need to. I know plenty of men like Yoongi. You think he’s the only rich guy who uses his money to take advantage of beautiful, young, financially unstable women? There is no shortage of men like him in this world.”
In a way that made your chest feel lighter and heavier at the same time. “You’re very confident.”, you said. “I’m very right.”, he corrected, “And you know it.” You laughed again. For a moment, everything else faded. Jin stepped closer and his gaze dipped briefly to your lips then back to your eyes.
“Can I?”, he asked softly. You hesitated. Just for a second and in that second Yoongi stepped onto the balcony. His eyes found you immediately. Like they were drawn there. Like they always were. And what he saw made something in his chest drop.
Because you weren’t pulling away. You weren’t uncertain. You weren’t looking for him. You were here with someone else. “…yeah.”, you whispered. And then you kissed him.
Soft at first but when Jin’s hand settled at your waist, grounding, steady you leaned in. His lips were warm and soft. He tasted like a caramel macchiato. You leaned in like you were trying to quiet something inside yourself. Like you were forcing yourself into choosing something easier. Something that didn’t hurt. From across the balcony Yoongi went completely still. Something twisted sharply in his chest. Because he knew Jin. Knew exactly what kind of a man he was.
Charming. Effortless. The kind of person people trusted too easily. The dangerous kind that in fact should not be trusted.
Mia watched him carefully, satisfaction flickering in her expression. “Well.”, she murmured amused, “this is uh…going to be interesting.”
Yoongi didn’t respond because his gaze was locked on you. And for the first time he looked like he was losing control of something he thought he had already walked away from.
hi! I hope that you are doing well. I don’t know of you are currently accepting requests, so you can disregard if you are not yet accepting hehe, but if you are – can I request a Yoongi ff where you had a petty misunderstanding and now you are both giving each the silent treatment because both of you are stubborn. But then you have a scheduled dinner with Yoongi’s parents and despite not trying to make it obvious, they noticed because both of you weren’t sitting together and when Yoongi tried to offer you the shrimps that he peeled for you as a silent apology, you thanked him awkwardly, and may other giveaways that made Yoongi’s parents laugh silently. While you were washing the dishes, Yoongi’s mom talked to you and asked, of course you told her because she has always been a sweet lady whose very kind and had welcomed you immediately-his whole family actually. She just laughed after you told her the story and said that it is pretty normal to have petty arguments sometimes, but also important to not go to sleep without resolving it, even if it’s petty and maybe not really important. When in the car going home from Yoongi’s parents’ house, you were quiet, already thinking of how you can talk to him. but then, he drove on your favorite fast food chain’s drive thru slot and ordered your favorite before you can say anything, he said that he noticed that you didn’t eat much during dinner and would probably get hungry later so that why’s he’s ordering you your favorite. You were to touched, you hugged not minding how uncomfortable it was since there was a console in between both of you and said that you are sorry for being petty and dragging the argument. He laughed seeing how pouty you were becoming and pecked your lips. That night you both slept cuddling each other. The next morning, Yoongi woke up to you sprawled on top of him. Throughout the day, you made sure that you cook his favorite meals and watch all the movies that he requested you both should watch. Sorry if it’s too long, I just got inspired when I saw Yoongi’s puppy eyes and pouty face during their interview with GQ hehe! Thank youuuuuuu so much!!!! 🫶
Here it is! Sorry it took so long. Thank you for requesting!
Thank you to the person that requested this! Sorry it took a little bit of time but I hope I brought your idea to life. ♥️
The argument had started because you cared too much. “Yoongi, I’m serious.”, you said with your arms crossed as you stood in the doorway of his home studio, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” He didn’t even look up at first, fingers still moving lazily over the keyboard, “Doing what?”
“This.”, you gestured around at the empty coffee cups, the papers scattered around, the barely touched plate of food you’d dropped off a few hours before, “You’re not sleeping. Not eating properly…if at all. You’ve been running on fumes for days.”
“Y/N I’m fine.”, he stated. That made something in your chest ache. “You’re not.”, you shot back, stepping further inside, “You’re exhausted Yoongi. You can barely keep your eyes open half the time and you still won’t rest. You’ve lost so much weight. You’re always complaining about headaches. The tour starts soon, Yoongi…how do you think that’s going to go if you burn yourself out before it even begins?” His jaw ticked, “I know my limits.”
“Do you?”, you pressed, frustration slipping into your voice, “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re just ignoring them.” He leaned back in his chair, finally looking at you and there was something sharp in his eyes now, “I said I’m fine.”
“And I’m saying you’re not.”, you snapped, “Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself for once?” He sighed and ran his hands over his face in frustration, “Why is it so hard for you to just back off?” The words hit harder than they should have. You blinked, “Excuse me?”
“You keep pushing.”, he said, voice low, controlled but there was irritation threaded through it now, “I told you I’ve got it handled.” Your anger grew, “And I’m telling you I’m worried about you!”
“I don’t need you to worry about me! I don’t need a babysitter.”, he said slamming his hand down on the desk. That stung a little. “I’m not babysitting you.”, you said, quieter now, but your voice shook, “I care about you Yoongi. I’m trying to help you.”
“Well…don’t.”, he said throwing his headphones back on. Your throat tightened, hurt flashing across your face before you could hide it. “Fine…If you want to run yourself into the ground, go ahead.”, you whispered trying to hide the waver in your voice. You turned letting the door slam close behind you. He didn’t stop you. Didn’t call your name. Didn’t say anything at all.
Four days later the two of you were still not talking. Not really anyway. You functioned together. You passed each other things. You answered questions with one-word replies when necessary. Neither of you willing to be the first one to say sorry. You still slept on opposite sides of the bed like there was an invisible border neither of you dared to cross.
And unfortunately there was something you just couldn’t avoid.
“Ready?”, Yoongi’s voice came from the doorway, flat, careful. You nodded, grabbing your bag, “Yeah.”
Dinner with his parents. Perfect.
His family greeted you like always, warm, excited, full of easy affection that made your chest ache just a little tonight. His mom pulled you into a hug immediately, “You look tired, sweetheart. Are you eating well?”
“I am.”, you said with a small smile, glancing briefly, too briefly, at Yoongi. Everyone noticed.
Dinner started off normal enough. Laughter, stories, his dad lecturing, his brother teasing but then the little things started adding up. You sat a little farther away from Yoongi. When you reached for something, you made sure not to brush his arm. When he spoke, you didn’t look at him. And his parents noticed. His mom’s eyes flickered between the two of you, amused more than concerned. His dad hid a smile behind his glass. And Yoongi shifted awkwardly in his seat.
Then, quietly, he reached for the shrimp. He peeled one. Then another. Then a third. Careful, precise, the way he always did because he knew you hated doing it yourself.
Your chest tightened. He placed them gently on your plate without a word. A peace offering. A small, stubborn apology in his own way. You swallowed, “Thank you.” He nodded but couldn’t look at you. His mom bit her lip to keep from laughing.
By the time dinner ended, the tension had softened but not broken. You escaped to the kitchen with his mom, grateful for something to do with your hands. “Y/N you don’t have to help.”, she said gently. “I want to.”, you smiled, rinsing a plate. She let out a long sigh, “So…how long are you two planning to keep this up?” You froze, “Is it that obvious?”
She laughed softly, “You’re normally attached at the hip but tonight you didn’t sit together, you barely even looked at each other, and Yoongi used shrimp as a silent peace offering.”
You let out a weak laugh, shoulders slumping, “It’s…stupid. We had a dumb argument and then it just…kept going.” She nodded, drying a dish, “That happens.” You hesitated. Then it all spilled out, the stunner, the words, the silence, the hurt. When you finished, she just smiled, “That’s it?” You blinked, “That’s it.” She chuckled, shaking her head, “Oh, honey. That’s nothing. You think you’re the first couple to argue over something small?”You shook your head, “I know, but…”
“But you’re both stubborn.”, she finished for you knowingly. You laughed, “Yeah.” She nudged your shoulder gently, “Little arguments happen. They’re normal. But don’t let them sit too long, okay? That’s when they turn into something bigger.” You glanced down at your hands. You nodded slowly in understanding.
The car ride home was still quiet. You stared out the window, thoughts spinning, what to say, how to say it, should you just grab his hand, would he pull away?
The car slowed. You frowned, looking up. He didn’t say anything. Just pulled into a drive-thru. Your favorite place. Before you could say anything, he spoke still not quite looking at you, “You didn’t eat much…So you’ll probably get hungry later.”, he added, quieter, “Figured I’d just…get you something now so I didn’t have to leave later.”
You stared at him. At the way his fingers tapped nervously against the steering wheel. At the way his lips went into that little pout he did when he was thinking too hard. That was his apology. Your heart melted. Before you could overthink it, you leaned across the console and wrapped your arms around him. He stiffened in surprise, “What are you…”
“I’m sorry.”, you mumbled into his neck, “For nagging you and worrying too much and being petty instead of talking to you sooner.” A soft huff of laughter came from him, “You’re unbelievable Y/N.”, he murmured, turning just enough to press a quick kiss to your lips. You pulled back, pouting slightly, “You were being petty too.” He nodded, “I know.”
“And stubborn.”, you added and he agreed, “I know.” You narrowed your eyes, “Say sorry.” He smiled faintly, “I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry I worry you so much and I’m sorry I took my frustrations out on you and most importantly I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you afterwards.” Satisfied you placed another kiss on lips before happily grabbing the chocolate milkshake he was holding out in front of you.
That night, the invisible line in the bed disappeared. You curled into him like it had never existed, his arms wrapping around you instantly, instinctively, warm, and protective.
The next morning, Yoongi woke up to a weight on top of him. He blinked the sleep away from his eyes and looked down. You were sprawled on top of him, hair a mess, arm thrown over his chest, a little bit of drool on your chin. He stared for a second and then laughed softly, “You’re lucky I love you, you know that?” You didn’t even stir. He sighed, but his hand came up anyway, brushing your hair back gently. Yeah, he thought, Everything was fine.
And you made sure it stayed that way. By the time he was done with his shower and ready for the day, the smell of his favorite breakfast filled the apartment. “Are you bribing me for something?”, he asked, leaning against the kitchen doorway. You glanced over your shoulder, smiling, “No if I was bribing you’d I’d be naked right now.” He hummed, “I didn’t know that was an option.” He laughed but still caught the dish towel you threw at him.
Later, you curled up next to him on the couch. “What do you want to watch?”, you asked. He raised a brow, “Anything I want?”You nodded solemnly, “Anything.” He smirked, “You’re going to regret that when we’re half way through a documentary on how cabinets are made.”
“That’s okay. I need a good nap today anyway.”, you teased. As the movie started, he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. It was just the quiet, steady kind of love that didn’t mind a little mess as long as you found your way back to each other in the end.
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