cowlick a min yoongi one-shot
pairing: idol!min yoongi x wife!f!reader
genre: pwp
rating: explicit content MDNI!!!
summary: you're the reason why your husband’s hair is a mess for the 'hooligan' mv.
warnings/tags: yoongi pov, quickie in a trailer, riding, unprotected sex, they're married and reader wants to get pregnant, his boys make fun of him lol
wc: 1.7k
notes: i say im burnt out from writing smut and then i go and write this. it's just bc yoongi makes me so insane 😩 this was inspired by a convo between myself and aqua (contents of which may or may not be based on real life events) so im dedicating this to her 🫶💜 thank u for betaing last minute!!
Yoongi’s supposed to be on set. But instead he’s sweating under his leather outfit with you spread out on his lap, bouncing on his cock.
It starts off with him just going to his trailer because he forgot his lucky bracelet (the one you gave him on his birthday the first year you celebrated together). The door almost hits him on the ass by the time you jump him, and he barely has time to be surprised before you grab his face and pull him down.
“How’d you sneak in here?” he chuckles between breathless kisses, hands going to your waist like clockwork.
“I’m your wife. Duh,” you snap, fingers ensnaring the heavy chains around his neck.
“I start filming in five minutes.”
“I’ll be quick.” He never argues with you. He lets you push him down on the couch, straddle him, kiss and lick at the base of his neck, knowing you don’t need the reminder not to make marks unless you want a hit put on you by his stylist, and you’re always careful not to touch his face for that same reason. It takes him a second to realize you’re wearing a skirt. He opens his mouth to scold you for coming to see him in clothes like that since it’s so cold out but then you reach under to dip into your bare, sopping pussy. Ah. Easy access. You came with a plan.
In all the years you’ve been together, it’s never taken much for you to get him hard. You walk into a room and bam - he has to adjust himself. And when you touch him - there goes his thoughts for a few minutes. It’s always been like this, and he knows it’ll never change. So when you figure out how to get into his boxers without pushing down too much leather, he’s already stiff and leaking at the tip.
You smear down his precum and he bites his lip when you grab his cock with the fingers you had between your legs, glistening with your slick, making him nice and wet for you.
“Damn, baby. Were you playing with yourself while you waited for me?”
“Mhmm,” you nod, whimpering as you finally let him penetrate your walls. You’re so wet and warm and tight when you sink down on him that he has to hold in a breath to keep himself together. But then he reminds himself that this is a quickie. He knows you could stay here and ride him until his balls are empty, but, unfortunately, he doesn’t have that kind of time. His phone - that he shouldn’t even have on him in the first place (he does though, just for you) - has been vibrating in his pocket for the past few minutes, but the more he’s distracted, the longer it’ll take him to make you both come, so he ignores it.
Your hands grip his shoulders as you wiggle your hips to adjust to his girth that he finds so fucking cute every single time, but he can hardly feel your touch through the thick leather of his jacket. He curses, because his fingerless gloves are preventing him from fully touching the skin on your hip, so he grips you hard enough to bruise. Usually, he’d let you bounce and ride him until you came on him and got too tired to carry on, but to speed things up, he bucks up into you, watching your parted lips spill out moans as he grinds against your spot, grunting as it makes you squeeze him and suck him deeper in. He kisses you, swallowing your sweet sounds, and his balls tighten when your fingers dig into the side of his head, tightly fisting his hair. Telltale sign that you’re close. You must've really worked yourself up while you were waiting for him.
“Come for me,” he whispers against your lips, fingers dropping and finding your clit to press and rub you over the edge. You loudly cry out his name, pulling at his hair so his head tips to the side as he continues fucking up into you and kissing the underside of your jaw. “That’s it, baby. Fuck, you’re squeezing me so good.”
“Come inside," you warble, cheek lolling against his temple, fingers still entangled in his hair, cunt clenching him through your aftershocks.
“Mm.” Eyebrows pinched, his fingers return to flex on your hip, cock twitching at the mere thought of getting to fill you up. “Remember to take your pill.”
You whine, indignant. He sighs, shakes his head. You make that sound when he doesn’t give you what you want.
“I’ll give you a baby when we come back from tour, ‘kay?”
You whine again, louder and borderline disobedient, slamming down on him like it tells him something. Sucking in a hiss because damn that felt good, he slaps your ass and massages out the sting, a silent warning to stop being a brat. This is one thing he’s not going to let you win an argument about.
“Hey, that was the deal, right? I’m not leaving you at home alone and pregnant while I fly around the world for eight months.”
“Yeah, but by the time you’d get back, you’d have a baby. You wouldn’t have to deal with all my pregnancy bullshit,” you try to reason, hips still rolling, eyes glassy and pout pathetic. He frowns. You’ve both had this conversation multiple times before, but that’s the first time you’ve made this point. He doesn’t fucking like it.
Yoongi tugs down on your waist to get you to stop, pelvises pressed together, cock deep inside you. But you know better than to move.
“Look at me.” You refuse, and the leather of his fingerless gloves rubs your cheeks as he grabs them. “I want to deal with all your pregnancy bullshit. I married you, remember? I signed up to put up with all your bullshit for the rest of my life and I don’t plan on missing out on any of it.”
His eyes dart between both of yours, making sure what he said is sticking with you, and when you lean in to sloppily kiss him, he knows the message got through.
“Now, c’mon. You said you were gonna be quick.”
You sit up straighter, and you’re clearly weakened from your orgasm but you put in effort that he’ll worship you for later to bring him to his own peak. Slick sounds of your pussy and slams of your hips fill the trailer, and within seconds of you squeezing him, sucking on his earlobe, and toying with his chains, he’s muttering an incoherent string of curses and spilling deep inside you. His balls just keep pulsing and holyyy shit, he really could get you pregnant right now. (He would love nothing more, but later he’ll text you another reminder to take your pill).
“I love you so fucking much,” he pants into your neck, wishing he had the time to leave his mark. “Even though you’re gonna get me in so much fucking trouble.”
“Love you, too. Don’t forget you married trouble,” You grin, waggling his ring on your finger in his facr, and his hips jerk as you lift off of him. He tips his chin up when you start to lean in for another kiss but your mouth drops and your eyes go wide.
“Oh, fuck, your hair-“ You reach out to try and fix it, but just as you do, a loud pounding on the trailer door startles the both of you.
“Shit, gotta go,” Yoongi mutters, quickly stuffing himself back in this godforsaken leather as his manager starts yelling for him to come out. You try your best to smooth down his hair, but when you keep muttering curses under your breath, he knows it’s not working.
“It’s fine. I’ll see you later.” He kisses you, lingers a second longer than he has time for, and leaves you sitting on the couch, skirt halfway up your waist, fingers playing with his cum dripping out. Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him. He needs to shoot this music video first.
Yoongi’s manager chews him all the way out onto the set, and his stylist gives him the evilest eye when she catches sight of his hair. He just scurries towards his band because his manager already said there’s no time to fix it.
“Where were you?” Namjoon exclaims as Yoongi walks towards the center of the platform. He shrugs, like he’s not still perspiring and his dick isn’t still hard. Luckily, his leather pants are bulky enough to hide it.
“I had to grab something.”
“Look at his hair! That means his honey came to visit,” Hobi says, waggling his brows. Yoongi shoots him daggers.
“Shut up.”
The maknaes burst into raucous laughter and Taehyung and Jimin mime grabbing at each other, making overexaggerated kissing noises and mimicking the way you cry out Yoongi’s name. Yoongi turns his back on them to go to his spot, just missing Jeongguk thrusting in the air like he’s mid-Baepsae.
“You brought this on yourself,” Namjoon mutters, stepping up next to him, fixing his gloves. Yoongi pretends not to hear. “It’s been, what, four years? And y’all still act like newlyweds.”
“We’re making up for the time we missed while I was in the military.”
Namjoon’s face pulls back, disgusted. “Okay, well, can you not do that on our schedule?”
“Sorry, leader-nim,” Yoongi fake apologizes, pressing his hands together, smirk lopsided and shit-eating. “Maybe if you let her come on tour, she wouldn’t find any downtime I have now to, yknow, make up.”
Namjoon sighs, long and distressed. Yoongi only feels a little bad. You’re his wife. He needs you by his side, and not just to have little quickies whenever there’s minutes to spare. He was enough of a wreck being away from you during his service. He doesn’t want that to happen because of work.
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
Yoongi smiles, lighting up inside and out. “Thanks, bro. You’re the best.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Namjoon waves him off, just in time for the director to call for action.
He doesn’t know how crazy his hair looks until they play the footage back to check for mistakes and potential position adjustments. His band members tease him, but it makes him smile that it’s there because you need to grab onto his hair when he makes you come. No one outside of this set will ever know his cowlick is thanks to his wife, and that makes him like it even more.
He still left his damn bracelet.
.
.
.
thank you for reading!!! ahhhh i cant believe this happened lmao pls let me know what you think with comments and reblogs!! 💜
happy birthday, baby (a take a bite drabble) | myg
✧ PAIRING !! yoongi x fem!reader
✧ SUMMARY !! You know your husband hates surprises. And parties. And anything involving the words "surprise" or "party." Still, after a remarkable year for his career and as the father of your child, you're determined to do something special for his thirty-third birthday. Even if it's a week late.
✧ TAGS/WARNINGS !! NSFW, MDNI (18+), return of tab!couple a.k.a. my favorite milf and dilf duo, return of tab!seokjin as well because i missed him (he's an uncle!), yoongi is wearing glasses and a leather jacket and it's a Problem, basically the video hobi posted on his ig story if it took place a week after yoongi's birthday, aqua glossdebut pushes the girl dad!yoongi agenda once again, min penny is THREE YEARS OLD!!!, and the tannies are her babysitters, genius lab shenanigans, spanking as punishment, dirty talk, slight D/s dynamics, oral (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, talk of pregnancy both past and future???, unprotected sex, lmk if i missed anything
✧ WORDCOUNT !! 9.3k
✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE !! uhhh... happy belated birthday yoongi 💀 i know this couple is OLD NEWS but i've been working on this since hobi posted this fucking video on ig because it just screeeeamed tab!yoongi to me. so enjoy approx. 3k words of cuteness followed by approx. 6k words of pure filth as an arirang week/late yoongi day treat from me! if you haven't read take a bite and all of its extras, you may be a little lost so i encourage you to do so before proceeding!
p.s. i rushed to finish this to have it posted by tonight so although @yoonmetogether was kind enough to beta read for me, there may still be mistakes <3 if you see any, no you don't
Yoongi is going to hate this.
You know your husband very well—he’s an introvert, through and through. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised to find out that he planned his out-of-country trip last week specifically to avoid this kind of thing. But his friends are persistent, his coworkers are always down for a party, and his wife? Well, you’re considering this an act of revenge.
You let it pass then, on the actual day—Yoongi did video call at midnight your time, just like he promised he would. His eyes crinkled fondly on your phone screen as you pointed the camera at his daughter, conked out in her brand new big-girl bed he had put together only days prior. Once you quietly shut the door to Penny’s room and slipped into yours, he updated you on how his trip was going, promising souvenirs for “both of my girls.” He even humored you while you whined about how big the bed felt without him, all the great birthday sex he was missing out on.
But, still—out of town on his own birthday? He had this shit coming.
Besides, he’ll pretend he hates it—again, you know your husband—but he deserves to be celebrated. He’s had a great year, after all. Both of you have.
You were officially promoted to music section editor of Look Here in the fall—a job that you were essentially already doing, but now you have the title (and the pay!) to go along with it.
After years of kicking the idea around in his brain, Yoongi finally pulled the trigger and released an album of his very own. It was hard, of course. There were nights where he sat at the piano long after midnight, fingers hovering over the keys like they were strangers. Where he muttered about being too old to start something new, about people expecting one thing from him and nothing else. Where he told you, quietly, that maybe the album would just live on his laptop forever.
When awards season came around, you made good use of your press pass—both for work and to proudly (tearfully) watch your husband win in every single category he was nominated in.
He thought it would amount to nothing, and now the damn thing has awards. And a tour proposal. And a rolodex of industry people blowing up his phone every five minutes, while Yoongi sends them to voicemail so he can finish cutting up an apple for his daughter.
Because on top of all the great strides you’ve both made in your professional lives, Penny’s wellbeing has never fallen by the wayside.
It was something you both worried about in the beginning. With such demanding jobs, how could either of you raise a child without giving something up? And yes, of course there have been sacrifices. Yoongi’s eomma has come in clutch more than once, whisking Penny away for a weekend with halmeoni and halabeoji when work gets too crazy. But you’ve made an effort to write from home when it’s possible. Yoongi has said no to projects that would put him on the other side of the world for the better part of a year. Both of you have done your very best to be there, to ensure Penny grows up in a loving home with two present parents.
You still remember the first time Penny toddled across the living room on unsteady legs, arms outstretched like a tiny drunk person trying to maintain balance. Yoongi had frozen where he sat on the floor, eyes wide, like he was afraid any sudden movement might throw her off. When she crashed into his chest with a quiet ‘oof,’ he looked over at you with that same stunned expression he gets when a song finally clicks into place.
“Did you see that?” he’d asked, amazed.
As if you could have missed it.
There are dozens of moments like that tucked into the corners of your memory. Penny’s first birthday cake smeared across Yoongi’s black shirt. The time she insisted on sitting in his lap while he worked in the studio, smacking random piano keys with chubby little fingers. The way she now insists that appa gives the best bedtime stories because he does all the silly voices.
It’s a good life. A busy one, chaotic, occasionally exhausting—but so, so good.
Which is exactly why this party matters.
Yoongi’s flight landed late last night. So late that you didn’t get a chance to welcome him home properly. You barely stirred when he finally slipped into bed beside you, although you have a groggy memory—the faint smell of travel clinging to his clothes as he shed them, the dip of your mattress, and then the warmth of his body next to yours.
When your alarm went off a few hours later, Yoongi looked just as tired as you felt. His hair was flattened on one side, the crease of the pillow still faintly pressed into his cheek. You leaned down to kiss him.
“Happy birthday, old man,” you murmured against his mouth.
He made a soft, sleepy noise, hand lifting to cup the back of your neck as he kissed you back. You hadn’t seen each other in a week, so despite how tired you both were, it was the kind of kiss that made it very tempting to call in sick.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, voice gravelly from sleep. “You’re leaving already?”
“Mhm. Early start,” you sighed, brushing your thumb along the line of his jaw. “You’re on Penny duty today. Is that cool?”
“Mmm. I’ll just bring her to the studio with me.”
You laughed. “Good luck with that.”
He pouted as you pulled away to slip out of bed. “She likes the studio!”
You snorted, opening up the closet doors and rifling through the hangers. “She likes the studio because you let her press buttons she shouldn’t.”
“I’ve gotta get her started young, baby,” he teased, reaching for you. “Come back here so I can love on you a little before you go.”
This fucking guy, you thought. “You’re going to make me late,” you said, making a shooing motion with your hands. But you were unable to mask your smile as you gathered your chosen garments. “Go back to bed.”
By the time you finished getting dressed, you could hear Penny’s bedroom door creaking open down the hall, followed by Yoongi’s sleepy voice greeting her with a soft, “morning, baby.”
Now, hours later, you’re leaning against the mirrored wall of the company’s spacious practice room, arms folded loosely as you watch the chaos that you (partially!) orchestrated unfold.
You’ve been here for over an hour helping set everything up.
“Casual” was the goal, but when a room full of musicians and producers decides to throw a birthday party—even a belated one—casual apparently includes a mountain of food, two cakes, an ill-advised amount of alcohol for a weekday evening, and more people crammed into a rehearsal space than fire safety regulations probably allow. Although most of that may be the fault of six men who have become something of a second family to you over the years.
Speaking of Yoongi’s friends, Namjoon gave the five-minute warning before he slipped out to retrieve the birthday boy, and that was already four minutes ago. Any minute now, Yoongi will walk in. Taehyung and Jeongguk hurriedly straighten the banner taped to the mirror. Seokjin crouches next to the cake, trying to relight two stubborn candles, while Jimin dims the overhead lights a little more. Hoseok readies his phone camera. You push off the wall just enough to see the door better.
Right on cue, the handle turns.
The door slides open and as soon as Yoongi steps in, Penny perched comfortably in his arms, the room erupts.
“SAENG IL CHUKHA HAMNIDA!”
Voices overlap, loud and off-key, clapping echoing as the entire room launches into song. Nearly every phone in the room records him from every possible angle, flashes turning on one by one until the whole room is dotted with bright white lights. The mirrored walls bounce the glow everywhere, multiplying it so Yoongi looks like he’s standing in the center of a tiny paparazzi storm.
You watch, painfully charmed by how cute your husband is.
Not to mention unfairly hot. Black beanie pulled over his hair, thin silver glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. A leather jacket layered over a simple white tee that makes him look effortlessly cool—and somehow deeply, painfully shy at the same time.
All of that, with your baby girl in his arms—it should honestly be illegal. You’re a lucky woman.
Hoseok runs around him in circles, cackling as Yoongi adjusts the delighted, squealing toddler on his hip.
“Ah—” Yoongi bows his head over and over in thanks, looking mildly pained as two of his coworkers bring forward a huge cake, little doodles piped on top in black icing: music notes, a black cat, a crown—like someone tried to summarize Yoongi in dessert form. “I’m not good at these things!”
You swear your heart does the same ridiculous little flutter it did when you first met him.
Everyone ignores his protests, and Yoongi sighs like a man accepting his fate, shifting Penny higher on his hip so she can see the candles flickering on top of the cake. Penny leans forward with serious concentration, puffing her cheeks as if preparing for the most important task of her life.
“Ready?” Yoongi murmurs to her. She nods vigorously, and together they blow, Penny’s enthusiastic little puff doing absolutely nothing while Yoongi takes care of the rest. The flames flicker and disappear into smoke, the room erupting into cheers all over again.
Right as Yoongi straightens, Hoseok gleefully swoops in to get a close-up of the birthday boy.
“Yah—hajima! Hajimaaa!” Yoongi whines, cheeks flushed, while Penny giggles at the chaos.
The song collapses into laughter and chatter, and the room finally loosens its grip on him. Phones lower and someone cranks the lights back up a notch. The crowd splinters into smaller clusters, half of them swarming the table for plates and plastic forks, the other half making a beeline for the alcohol.
You see the exact moment Yoongi realizes you’re here. His entire expression changes, the embarrassment melting away to be replaced by a knowing, suspicious squint. You lift your brows, and he huffs through his nose, shaking his head.
You push yourself off the wall and walk toward him through the crowd, smiling with zero guilt or fucks given. When you reach him, you lean in to kiss his cheek.
“Happy birthday, baby,” you say sweetly. He smells so good. Has he always smelled so good?
Yoongi glances at you sideways, lips upturned slightly. “You.”
You point at yourself, feigning innocence. “Me?”
Before he can say anything else, Penny suddenly twists in his arms with a sharp little whine. “Appa, cake!”
Yoongi looks down at her. “Hold on, baby—”
“Cake,” she repeats, more firmly this time, pointing with intense determination toward the table where people are already cutting slices.
“You’ve gotta wait your turn,” he tells her patiently.
“Caaaaaake!” The whine stretches, her little legs kicking slightly against his hip, and like a pastry-fueled Beetlejuice, Seokjin appears out of nowhere.
“I heard cake!” he announces cheerfully.
Penny immediately reaches for him, stars in her eyes. “Uncle Jinnie!”
Seokjin clutches his chest like he’s been struck by pure love. “My favorite niece! Look at you! You’ve grown since the last time I saw you.”
“Two weeks ago,” Yoongi says flatly.
“Kids grow fast, Yoongi-yah. Even I know that,” Seokjin scoffs, then beams at Penny. “Do you want Uncle Jinnie to acquire cake for you? Because I am very powerful. I have connections.”
Penny nods with grave intensity. “Cake.”
Seokjin leans in, stage-whispering like he’s sharing state secrets. “What kind of cake? Extra frosting? Just frosting? Tell me. Tell me your dreams.”
“Fros-ting,” Penny says, drawing it out as best as her little mouth can manage.
Yoongi’s head tilts back a fraction, blinking at the ceiling for patience. “No.”
“No,” Yoongi repeats, looking between them. Poor guy. He might as well be defusing a bomb. “She can have cake. She cannot just have frosting.”
Penny’s lower lip begins to wobble on cue, eyes going shiny with practiced accuracy.
“Oh my god,” you murmur, delighted. “Seokjin’s been teaching her shit.”
“I do not—” Yoongi starts, then cuts himself off when Penny’s wobble escalates into a tiny, furious whimper. His jaw tightens. “Okay, okay. Penny.”
Seokjin drops to her eye level, voice syrupy. “Penny, sweetie. Don’t cry. Uncle Jinnie will protect you.”
Yoongi points at him without looking away from Penny. “Do not start.”
“I’m just saying,” Seokjin says innocently, “if a child requests frosting on her appa’s birthday, who are we to deny—”
“We are her parents,” Yoongi deadpans. “We deny things all the time.”
Penny jabs a finger at the cake table again, supremely pissed off. “Cake now.”
Seokjin gasps. “Did you hear that? She said now. She’s showing such promising signs of leadership, Yoongi-yah!”
Yoongi stares at him. “It’s impatience.”
“You say potato, I say po-tah-to,” Seokjin says, and then he turns his bright smile back to Penny. “Okay. Uncle Jinnie will get you cake, but we have to be polite.”
Penny blinks.
Yoongi huffs. “Say please, baby.”
“Peas,” Penny supplies promptly.
Seokjin looks like he might cry. “She said peas. I’m ruined.”
Yoongi looks between the two of them, clearly weighing his options. “You’re not giving her half the cake,” he warns.
Seokjin gasps in mock offense. “What kind of uncle do you think I am?”
“The exact kind that would do that.”
“Wow. No trust.”
“PEAS JINNIE CAKE!” Penny shouts.
Yoongi exhales through his nose and carefully transfers her over. “Small piece.”
“Of course.”
Yoongi squints at him, but before he can add anything else, Seokjin grins innocently and immediately carries Penny off toward the cake table while she chants “cake cake cake!”
You watch them go, shaking your head. “That’s a mistake.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi sighs, watching them retreat. “She’s going to be bouncing off the walls tonight.”
For the first time since he walked in, his arms are empty. Suddenly, it’s just the two of you standing there in the middle of the noisy room.
You cross your arms loosely, tilting your head at him. “Y’know, you can pretend to be annoyed all you want,” you say.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “But?”
“But,” you continue smugly, “I know you. You’re a softie.”
He snorts. “A softie.”
“Yes,” you confirm.
Yoongi studies you for a moment, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. Then he smirks. “You want to test that theory?”
Your brows lift. “And how exactly would I do that?”
“Keep pushing me and see what happens,” he says evenly. “I’ll put you over my knee later if you’re not careful.”
You gasp, one hand flying to your chest like a scandalized Victorian woman. “Min Yoongi!”
“That,” Yoongi says as he points towards Seokjin and your daughter, whose mouth is already smeared with frosting, “is your fault, for the record.”
“How!” you say, offended.
He stares at you, thoroughly unimpressed. “Seriously? We’re seriously going to do this?”
“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,” you huff. “What exactly are you accusing me of, huh?”
He raises his eyebrows and looks around, as if just that is answer enough. Which it is.
“I did not plan this party,” you insist.
“Uh-huh.”
“I didn’t!”
“Y’know, liars get worse punishments than a spanking.”
You sputter, indignant—if not a little dizzy from the implication. “You realize we’re in a room full of colleagues, right?” you hiss, eyes bouncing in every direction. “Both yours and mine?”
Yoongi tsks. “Should’ve thought about that before you ambushed me.”
“You are such a fucking drama queen. Nobody ambushed you—”
“You wanna try that again?” he asks, head angling to the side.
Oh, he’s serious. He’s seriously thinking about spanking you over this—or worse.
God, you missed him.
You swallow thickly. “I… may have…”
“Mhmmmmm,” he hums, not even trying to mask his amusement at the look on your face.
“...facilitated,” you continue. “Just a little bit!”
“Say more.”
“It wasn’t my idea,” you whine, lips pulled into a pout. “But you’ve had such an amazing year! I wanted you to feel celebrated, and loved—and okay, yeah! Maybe I was a little pissed you decided to fly to fucking Tokyo on your actual birthday—”
Suddenly there are hands on your waist, effectively putting a stop to your rant and coaxing you closer.
“Jagiya,” Yoongi purrs, and oh. Yep. You’re swooning a little. Your body pathetically, instinctually gravitates towards his, like it always does when he speaks in that tone.
“Yeah?” you breathe, tirade forgotten as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.
“If it wasn’t your idea,” he murmurs, gently tucking your hair behind your ear so he can kiss your jaw next, “then whose was it?”
PURE! EVIL!
You pull back, scandalized all over again. “You wanna turn your wife into a rat?”
“You wanna be able to walk tomorrow?”
Ha.
“No, not really,” you say immediately, completely unashamed.
Yoongi laughs, delighted by you. “Tell me anyway.”
You groan and pinch the bridge of your nose. Whatever. It was bound to come out, anyway, and you’d really like the interrogation part of this exchange to end so you can get to the spanking part. And the fucking part.
“Hoseok,” you sigh.
“Of course. I should’ve known.”
“You really didn’t like it?” you ask, frowning.
“Nah, I’m just fucking around,” Yoongi says, soothing your worries with a third kiss, this time on the crease between your brows. “You’re absolutely right. I’m a softie. It was embarrassing, yeah, but sweet.”
The little line of worry smooths immediately, and you sigh in relief. “Okay, good.”
“If Hoseok asks, though, I’m furious.”
“Oh, obviously,” you agree. “And if he asks you, I didn’t say a word.”
“Your secret is safe with me, rat.”
You shove his shoulder, but it’s weak. Mostly because he’s still holding your waist, thumbs slowly brushing the sides of your ribs through the fabric of your blouse like he’s rediscovering a favorite instrument after time away.
“You’re insufferable,” you mutter.
“Mm,” Yoongi hums, leaning closer so his nose grazes the line of your neck. “Missed you too.”
Your stomach does an embarrassing little flip.
It’s stupid, honestly. You’ve been together long enough that you should be immune to this—the warmth of his breath against your ear, the casual way his body crowds yours like he has every right to occupy your space.
Which he does. But still.
You nudge his chest with your knuckles. “You’ve been home for less than twelve hours and you’re already threatening me with corporal punishment.”
Yoongi lifts his head and looks down at you over the rim of his glasses, unimpressed.
“Threatening?” His mouth curves slowly. “Baby, that was a promise. One I intend to make good on in about five minutes.”
You were hoping that was the case, but still—you gulp. Comically.
“Oh,” you say dumbly. “But the party…”
He scoffs. “I’ve stayed long enough.”
“Less than half an hour?”
“Yup,” he replies, popping the p. You roll your eyes.
“And the baby?” you murmur, glancing over his shoulder toward the cake table.
Across the room, Penny sits on Seokjin’s hip with a paper plate the size of her face, one small fist buried in a mound of icing while the other clutches a plastic fork she has absolutely no intention of using. Jeongguk and Hoseok coo at her like she’s the cutest thing they’ve ever seen, snapping photo after photo that you’re sure will be blowing up your phone later.
“The baby,” Yoongi says, “has six uncles in the room who are perfectly capable of keeping her out of harm’s way for a bit.”
Wow. He must really want to fuck you. He’d never say that about his friends otherwise.
“Besides,” he continues, squeezing your waist to draw your attention back to him, “I have another baby that needs tending to. Don’t I?”
Godddddddd.
Your eyes flutter shut without your permission. “Mhm,” you hum, nodding pathetically. “Please.”
Yoongi chuckles. “Don’t worry, jagi,” he coos. “I’ll take care of you. C’mon.”
He gives your waist one last squeeze before he steers you through the room, guiding you with an easy, proprietary pressure at the small of your back. Luckily, everyone is too busy drinking, laughing, or fawning over Penny to notice the two of you slipping out of the room. You’re sure the looks on your faces would hide zilch.
The music from the practice room dulls behind the door once Yoongi pushes into the corridor, and your pulse kicks up more and more with each step toward his studio.
A very tense elevator ride later, you reach the heavy door. Yoongi pulls a black keycard from the inside pocket of his jacket. The lock whirs, and he ushers you inside.
The door clicks shut, bathing you both in silence—the kind only studios seem to have, padded walls swallowing outside noise until the room feels like its own little universe.
Your heart kicks harder in your chest when he steps forward, closing the small distance between you. One hand lifts to cradle the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek like he’s confirming you’re real.
“You have any idea,” Yoongi says quietly, “how annoying it is to spend a week alone in a hotel room when I know what’s waiting for me at home?”
You laugh under your breath. “You were working.”
“Yeah.” His thumb drags over your lower lip. “Still annoying.”
You kiss him before he can keep talking, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down to you. The kiss starts soft but turns hungry almost immediately, both of you making up for the time apart.
When your lips finally part, you’re both breathing a little heavier. His forehead rests against yours. You can practically feel the moment where your mind syncs up with his.
“Birthday sex,” you say breathlessly.
“Birthday sex,” Yoongi agrees.
Then he exhales through his nose and reluctantly lets you go, taking a step back like he’s forcing himself to slow down for half a second. He looks around the studio, eyes bouncing over the equipment and furniture like he’s mentally deciding exactly where he wants you.
He slips off his jacket, then his beanie, tossing both onto the console as he ruffles his hair, then slides his glasses off and sets them gently next to the pile. You silently mourn the loss, but you have bigger fish to fry, honestly.
“C’mere,” he says, lazily waving you over to his desk with two fingers.
You step closer, but before you can say anything, his hands land on your hips and turn you around in one smooth motion.
“Oh,” you say faintly, surprised when you really shouldn’t be.
“Yeah,” he murmurs behind you, almost mockingly. “Oh.”
His palm settles at the small of your back, guiding you forward until the edge of the desk presses lightly against your thighs.
“Do you need me to remind you why this is happening?”
You press your hands flat to the desk, pretending to think. You don’t particularly feel like making this easy on him, so you say, “because I threw my loving husband a surprise birthday party?”
Yoongi snorts. “Try again.”
“Celebrated his many accomplishments?”
“Mhm.”
“Rightfully called him out for being a drama queen?”
His hand slides up your spine and firmly pushes you down until your chest meets the desk. You squeak.
“You’re just racking them up, huh?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice.
“Okay, okay!” you laugh breathlessly. “I may have helped ambush you.”
“That’s better.”
His hands smooth over your hips, thumbs brushing slow circles through the fabric of your skirt before dragging it up entirely to expose your ass.
“You know,” he says thoughtfully, “most people would apologize right about now.”
You turn your head just enough to glance back at him over your shoulder.
“Well,” you say, lifting your chin a little, “I’m not that sorry.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “You asked for it.”
There’s a pause, one heavy second where the room feels very, very quiet.
Then his hand lands on your ass with a sharp smack. You gasp, lurching forward.
Yoongi’s palm lingers where it landed, thumbing gently at the sudden sting blooming across your skin. The sensation radiates outward, sharp at first, then melting into a pleasant, humming heat.
“Still not sorry?” he asks mildly.
Your cheek presses against the desk beneath you, your hair spilling across the surface as you try to gather your composure. “Nope,” you manage, breath a little shaky. “Not really.”
He hums. “Too bad.”
Another smack lands, harder this time. You let out a surprised, pleased gasp that dissolves into a soft moan with each impact that follows. “Fuuuck, Yoongi—”
“You know,” he says conversationally behind you, like you’re discussing grocery lists instead of this, “I leave for one week.”
Smack!
“And suddenly my wife is conspiring with my friends.”
Smack!
“To publicly humiliate me.”
Smacksmacksmack!
You moan again, half laughing, half overwhelmed. “It was a loving humiliation!”
“Ah.” His thumb presses into a particularly tender spot he just hit and you hiss. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
You can’t take it anymore. You can’t. Your ass is raw, you’re so wet you can feel it soaking through your panties, smearing on your inner thighs. If he doesn’t touch you soon, you might cry. He’s only been torturing you for a few minutes, but your body has felt his absence for seven impossibly long days.
Doesn’t he know a week without him feels like an eternity?
“Yoongiiiiiii,” you whine pathetically. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll never throw you a party again, just—please touch me.”
Yoongi goes very still behind you, the silence stretching just long enough to make you nervous before a quiet laugh leaves him, more breath than sound.
“Listen to you,” he says, voice laced with amusement. “You weren’t sorry at all just a minute ago.”
You squirm, shamelessly pushing your ass back against his crotch. “I’ve had a change of heart.”
“Clearly.”
You’re about to complain again, or beg—whichever comes first—when his palm finally slips slowly between your thighs, nudging them apart. The movement steals the protest right out of your mouth. You whimper instead, hips instinctively rolling back into the warmth of his hand.
“Already this worked up?” he teases as his fingers trace the damp line of your clothed cunt, feeling the heat that’s been building there since he bent you over his desk. “All I did was spank you.”
“You’ve been gone a week.”
“Mm.” He cups you properly now, the delicious pressure enough to make your eyes momentarily roll back. “Missed me that much?”
“Yes,” you admit immediately.
Yoongi exhales a quiet laugh against the back of your neck. “Cute.”
Clearly taking pity on you, he yanks your panties down in one quick motion, leaving them tangled around your thighs. The pads of his fingers slide through your slickness before finding purchase on your clit, rubbing exactly how you like it.
“God, yes,” you moan. Your forehead drops to the desk with a dull thud, earning an amused huff behind you.
“Yeah?” he murmurs near your ear. Your hips rock back helplessly against his hand. “That feel better?”
You nod. “Mhmmm.”
“Good,” he says softly. But then the bastard pulls his fingers away entirely.
You gasp in outrage. “Yoongi!”
He smacks your ass again, smearing your own arousal on your skin. “Up.”
There’s no point pretending you’re not going to listen, so you push yourself upright on shaky legs and hop onto the edge, hissing slightly when your tender flesh meets unyielding wood.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” you assure him softly, yanking impatiently at the hem of his shirt to coax him closer. “I like it.”
Yoongi chuckles, allowing you to pull him between your thighs. He pushes them gently apart until you’re spread open for him, skirt tucked up and panties dangling uselessly from one ankle.
“I know you do,” he says, amused. “You’re dripping all over my desk.”
“Do something about it,” you goad, reaching for his belt. “C’mon.”
Your fingers barely brush the buckle before he catches your wrist. The look on his face makes your stomach flip—dark eyes half-lidded, attention fixed entirely on the slick mess between your thighs like he’s already imagining all the things he wants to do with it. “Not yet.”
You pout. “What do you mean not yet?”
Instead of answering, his thumb brushes over the inside of your thigh, collecting a little of the slick there before dragging it higher. He swears under his breath.
You shiver. “C’mon,” you repeat. You can hear yourself starting to get whiny again. “Want you to fuck me.”
Yoongi hums. “I will. Just…” He trails off, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he gazes at your pussy. “I wanna do something first.”
Your breath catches as he sinks down to his knees in front of you. Oh.
“Wait,” you protest weakly, looking down at him. “Shouldn’t I be doing something for you? It’s your birthday.”
“Trust me,” he rasps, guiding your legs over his shoulders, “this is absolutely for me.”
He leans in and presses an open-mouthed kiss right where you’re dripping—and then licks into you properly, a long, warm stroke from your opening up to your clit.
“Ohhhhh, shit, Yoongi,” you moan.
His eyes flick up to watch your reaction as his tongue slips between your folds and pushes inside just enough to make your hips jerk forward. You look down at him, already wrecked.
You’ve gotta hand it to him—your husband certainly knows how to play to his strengths. You’ve never met a guy so passionate about giving head. Eating pussy is one of the many things that he excels at, a level of skill that can only be achieved by clocking in lots and lots and lots of hours. Which Yoongi does. All the time. Happily.
It’s almost enough to make you forget how badly you need to be fucked.
“So good,” you manage, voice shaking.
“Mm-hmm,” he hums in response, the vibration pressed straight into your sensitive bud. His hands slide up to spread you open with his thumbs, exposing your clit more while he licks over it again and again until your head tips back.
Your toes curl inside your shoes as your hips start to move on their own, chasing his tongue while soft, helpless sounds keep slipping out of your throat. Your orgasm feels impossibly close already, especially when he pulls your clit between his lips and sucks.
“Mm, Yoongi,” you moan, grabbing at his hair to stop him, “wait.”
Yoongi lifts his head immediately, mouth and chin glistening. He wipes it with the back of his hand, looking up at you with a crooked smirk. “You don’t seriously want me to stop, do you?”
He looks so pleased with himself. The sight of him down there between your legs, lips swollen, hair mussed, erection straining enticingly against the crotch of his jeans.
As tempted as you may be to let him keep going…
“Up,” you pant, nudging his shoulder with your knee.
He stands, surprisingly without much protest, and you shakily lower yourself down from the desk. You pull him a few steps toward the big rolling chair in front of the console and press lightly at his chest.
Yoongi drops into it, his legs spreading naturally as he leans into the backrest. His arms drape lazily along the armrests, but his eyes stay locked on you, sharp and curious.
“You want something, jagiya?” he asks, tilting his head.
You step between his knees. “Yeah,” you say. Your hands go to his belt, the metal buckle giving a soft clink as you start working it loose. “Want this dick.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows lift slightly. “Well,” he murmurs, voice low with interest, “you better come and get it, then.”
Man, he does not have to tell you twice.
You pull the belt free and tug open the waistband of his jeans. The button pops open under your fingers, then the zipper slides down.
Yoongi inhales through his nose when your hand slips inside his briefs, closing around the thick length of him. “Yeah,” he grunts under his breath.
Your cunt clenches in anticipation. He’s already fully hard, thick and warm in your palm. Your thumb brushes over the head, smearing the bead of precum that’s already gathered there.
You bite your lip, watching the way his jaw tightens as you stroke him slowly, squeezing a little on the upstroke the way you know he likes.
His head tips back slightly against the chair, and you lean down slowly, dragging your lips along the line of his jaw until you reach his ear. “Missed you so much.”
“Did you.”
“Mhm.” Your fingers wrap a little firmer around him, enough that his stomach tightens under his shirt. “Thought about it in bed all week.” You press a soft kiss just below his ear, reveling in the way he shivers. “Tried taking care of it myself a couple times.”
“Yeah?” he rasps, and you try to stifle your glee from how affected he sounds.
“But it’s not the same,” you purr. “Never is.”
His fingers flex against the armrests of the chair like he’s trying not to grab you.
“I get so used to you,” you continue, your lips grazing the shell of his ear, “sliding inside me before I’m even fully awake.” Your thumb drags slowly over the head of his cock again, making him hiss. “Fucking me to sleep every night.”
Yoongi can only hum in acknowledgement, so tense he looks like he’s about to snap. Good. Fuck, you want him to snap. You want him to make good on his threat from earlier and fuck you until you can’t walk straight.
“I get so frustrated when you’re gone,” you whisper. “It’s miserable, baby. Nothing feels right. My fingers don’t feel like you. My toys don’t feel like you.” You nip at his earlobe, spurred on by the stuttered breath that escapes his lips. “Nothing fills me up like your cock.”
His tongue drags along the inside of his cheek. “Careful,” he mutters.
You smile sweetly and squeeze him again. “Why?” you murmur, watching the way his throat works when he swallows. “You’re the one who made me like this. Got me used to it. Got me spoiled. Now I can’t even fall asleep without you inside me.”
That seems to do the trick.
“Yeah,” he says finally, voice rougher now. “Okay. That’s enough of that.”
Yesyesyes—
“Come here.” With a bruising grip on your hips, he hauls you roughly into his lap. The chair shifts under the added weight, and your skirt rides up as you settle there, knees planted on either side of the seat. “Wanna touch you, too,” he says, reaching beneath your skirt.
Wait.
Wait, no.
What is he doing? Whyyyyyyy are his pants still on?
“You’ve touched me plenty,” you whine, stubbornly trying to work his jeans down, made difficult now that you’re straddling him. “What’s with you? You don’t want me to ride you? Am I bad at it or something? You’ve had years to tell me, you know—”
Yoongi shuts you up with a sharp slap to your still-sensitive ass. “Will you give it a rest?” he huffs, cutting off your moan by stuffing two long fingers between your lips. “What I want is to make you feel good. But I could just fuck this mouth and not let you cum at all. You wanna go there?”
He’s so mean. And you know from experience he’s fully capable of following through on this particular threat, too, if you keep acting up. So as much as you want to talk back, you shake your head, sucking and licking at his fingers in what you hope comes off as some sort of apology.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, using his free hand to brush your hair out of your face. “I’ll fuck you, baby, I promise. Just be patient for me.”
He watches your mouth for another second, letting you suck his fingers slowly, before finally pulling them free with a wet sound. His hand drops between your bodies, and he curses quietly when his fingers find how soaked you still are.
He drags his fingers through the slickness, then lifts them briefly so you can see the shine of it between them. “All this,” he says, voice rough with satisfaction, “and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”
Yeah, you’re well aware of that, you think. But you don’t dare say it aloud, determined to be good now.
His fingers move slowly at first, spreading your saliva and slick over your clit before beginning lazy circles that make your thighs tremble where they bracket his.
“Mmngh, Yoongi,” you whine, squirming for more. It’s so good, but it’s just not enough.
“Shh.” His other hand grips your hip, firmly keeping you steady as your body tries to chase the pressure. “Relax,” he says softly near your ear.
Suddenly, you feel the blunt press of one fingertip at your entrance before he pushes inside. Your eyes screw shut, the relief of having even just one part of him inside you overshadowed by it not being nearly enough.
“Fuck,” you sob.
He groans quietly at the way you immediately clamp down around him. “So goddamn tight.”
The single finger sinks the rest of the way in so fucking slowly, curling up against your inner wall as he goes like he’s reacquainting himself with the way your body feels around him. You whimper when he drags it back out and pushes it in again, even deeper this time.
“Yoongi, please,” you moan. “I need more, I need it.”
“I know,” he coos, slipping a second digit inside you beside the first, stretching you open before he starts moving them in steady strokes. “Greedy girl. Always need more of me.”
You do. You’re so keyed up it feels impossible to sit still, like you can’t get close enough to him. Your body chases the movement of his fingers, grinding down like you can somehow force more of him inside.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Just like that.”
You grab his shirt and pull him forward, kissing him hard. Yoongi makes a surprised sound into your mouth at your fervor, but it melts immediately into a low groan as he kisses you back just as hard. His free hand leaves your hip to grab the back of your neck, holding you in place while his mouth takes control of the kiss.
You can taste yourself on his lips from earlier, heady and sweet, the flavor dragged across your mouth every time his tongue slides over yours.
The chair beneath you starts to creak in protest. Each time your bodies grind together the wheels twitch slightly across the studio floor, the seat rocking with the rhythm of his hand driving into you. The sound mixes with the wet slide of your mouths and your uneven breathing.
Your lips part from his and move down to his jaw as you try to gasp for air, but Yoongi doesn’t let you, dragging you back into another kiss. He catches your tongue between his lips, sucking on it slow and filthy. It pulls a helpless, high sound from the back of your throat.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he growls against your lips. As if to prove his point, he slips in a third finger alongside the other two. It punches the breath out of your lungs. You feel so full you could cry, might cry if he keeps fucking bullying that sensitive spot inside you.
You break from the kiss with a shaky gasp, overwhelmed. “Too much—”
“No it’s not.” His thumb presses hard against your aching, oversensitive clit. Your body convulses at the sensation paired with his fingers fucking you closer and closer to orgasm. “C’mon, jagi. Give it to me.”
Your nails dig into his shoulders as the pressure in your belly tightens and tightens, coiling like a wire pulled too taut. Every thrust of his fingers drags it closer to snapping while your body stutters in his lap.
“Gonna cum,” you gasp, shuddering into the crook of his neck. Your cheeks feel wet, and you open your eyes to find the collar of his shirt damp with errant tears. “Baby, fuck—”
“Yeah,” he grunts. “Cum. Right fucking now.”
You don’t have a choice.
Your orgasm slams through you, a strangled moan tearing out of your throat as your cunt clamps down hard around his fingers, delicious buzzing heat spreading through your limbs.
Yoongi doesn’t stop.
His fingers keep moving inside you, the overstimulation making your hips jerk. Only when your body finally starts to sag against him does he slow, then slip out of you entirely.
For a moment you just sit there, slumped in his lap and breathing hard into his shoulder, your entire body humming with leftover tremors.
But beneath you, Yoongi is already moving.
You lift your head at the soft rustle of fabric as he pushes his jeans and briefs down properly and frees himself, thick and impossibly hard.
You watch, dazed, as he drags his fingers, still slick with you, slowly along his cock, spreading what you left behind over the head before working it down his length.
Your mouth waters.
Amused, Yoongi nudges your chin up with his free hand until you meet his dark gaze.
“You still want to ride me,” he asks, still stroking himself slowly, “or are you tapping out?”
Tapping out? You almost want to laugh. Hell no, you’re not tapping out.
You take a steadying breath and wipe your tear-stained cheeks with the back of your hand. Your entire body still feels too sensitive, nerves humming everywhere he touched you, but the sight of him like this makes a fresh wave of determination flood through you.
“A week,” you remind him. “You were gone a week.”
Yoongi’s mouth tilts faintly. “A week isn’t that long, you know.”
“I disagree, Min Yoongi. A week is way too fucking long.”
Something in his expression softens at that. “C’mere then.”
Your hands slide to his shoulders as you lift yourself, batting his hand out of your way as you reach for his cock. You guide it carefully, adjusting your position until the thick head presses against your entrance.
You try to move quickly, not wanting to waste any time. But the first inch makes your breath hitch, cruelly reminding you of how sensitive you are. Your forehead dips toward his shoulder as you whimper softly.
“Too much?”
You shake your head quickly. “No,” you pant. “Just give me a second.”
You stay there for a moment, breathing through the stretch, your fingers tightening in his shirt. Then you start to lower yourself again.
Every inch feels intense after everything he already gave you, nerves sparking as his length presses deeper inside. Your lips part with a shaky exhale as you take more of him, the stretch familiar but still so overwhelming.
“Easy,” Yoongi says, hands hovering at your hips like he wants to steady you.
You nod against his shoulder, and after what feels like way too long, you sink down the rest of the way.
Yoongi immediately moves to cradle your face, warm palms bracketing your cheeks as he pulls you into a slow, grounding kiss. His thumbs brush gently under your eyes as if to soothe you, his mouth warm and unhurried while your body relaxes around him, reacquainting itself with the familiar fullness.
Once you’ve adjusted enough, you lift up so his cock drags almost all the way out before you drop back down again.
Yoongi breaks apart from your lips to groan under his breath. “Shit, yeah. Do that again.”
You do.
This time the movement feels a little easier, your hips finding a rhythm as you rise and sink again, over and over.
Yoongi’s head falls back against the chair again, throat exposed as he exhales hard. His grip on your hips flexes every time you drop down on him, like he’s resisting the urge to take control and bounce you on his dick himself.
“You’re killing me,” he mutters hoarsely. “God, look at you.”
Your cheeks heat at the praise, but you don’t stop. Little breathy sounds keep slipping out of you every time your pelvis meets his.
His palms glide along your sides, pushing your shirt up along the way. Once your bra is exposed, he gathers your breasts in both hands, thumbs brushing over your nipples through the thin fabric.
“These tits,” he says. “Fuck, baby.”
Heat creeps up your neck. “You act like you’ve never seen them before.”
“Because every time I see them I’m convinced they got even better somehow. You got so fucking stacked after Penny.”
You roll your eyes with a weak snort. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m serious,” he insists, thumbs brushing slowly over the sensitive peaks again. “You were already perfect, but then you gave me our daughter and somehow came back even sexier.”
It’s funny, you used to think the opposite.
It was hard, adjusting to all the changes in yourself after you gave birth. It took a long time to gain back all of your confidence. But since then, you’ve learned to love your body the way it is, because it made Penny. It gave her to you, happy and healthy.
You wouldn’t trade that for anything.
And hearing Yoongi talk like this, like he’s hungry for you—not despite the changes that pregnancy made but because of them…
That familiar train of thought is momentarily derailed when Yoongi nudges upward from below. Your breath breaks into a soft gasp as his cock hits deeper than before, reminding you of where you are and what you’re supposed to be doing.
“Shit,” he says. “You feel insane right now.”
“You say that every time,” you shoot back breathlessly, though the compliment clearly fuels you to keep going. “I think it’s just because you don’t have to do any of the work.”
Yoongi chuckles. “No, baby,” he says, groping your tits again. “I’m saying it because you’re squeezing the fuck out of me.”
Shit. You know exactly why, too.
Your face feels warm suddenly, but the idea has already taken root, spreading through you in a way that makes your pulse quicken. The thought starts to slip out before you can stop it.
“You know,” you murmur, rocking down on him again. “What if…”
He studies your face carefully, brows drawn together. “What if what?”
“What if we made another one?”
Yoongi goes completely still beneath you, hands still on your tits. “What?”
Shit, you’re so stupid. Why would you say that out loud?
“Nothing, nevermind,” you say quickly, shaking your head, suddenly very interested in the color of the ceiling. “Forget I said anything.”
His hands drop. “Hey,” he says quietly.
You avoid his eyes, shifting slightly in his lap like you might start moving again just to avoid the subject. But Yoongi doesn’t let you. His grip firms, holding you right where you are, dick still buried deep inside you.
“Don’t do that,” he chides.
“Do what?”
“You know what.” Yoongi huffs softly through his nose. “You think I don’t know you by now?” he asks. “You don’t just say stuff like that for no reason.”
You do your best to tamp down your embarrassment, reminding yourself who you’re with. Your husband. Your husband who you’ve already had a baby with, who has never given you any indication that it was a one-and-done thing.
And Penny is three now. Maybe it could be time.
“I mean… we’ve talked about it before. Kind of,” you say carefully. “Another baby, eventually.”
“Uh-huh.” He watches your face for another second before asking quietly, “Is that what you were thinking about just now? Is that what had you squeezing me like that?”
Your heart is beating faster now. “Maybe… But I’ve been thinking about it for a while!” you admit. “This isn’t me just being horny and saying shit, I promise. I just… we’re in a good place, right? A great place. And I know we haven’t had, like, a proper conversation about it, but…” You trail off, nervous. “Do you think I’m insane?”
“No.” He shifts underneath you then, rolling his hips upward once. The sudden thrust makes you gasp.
“Ah—!”
“But if you’re gonna say shit like that while you’re sitting on my cock,” he continues, voice rougher now, “you can’t expect me not to start thinking about things.”
Your pulse spikes. “A-about what?”
He looks down between your bodies, at the way you’re split open on him. “About how fucking deep I am in you right now, for one.”
Your breath stutters. He rolls his hips again, slower this time.
“And how easy it would be.”
Oh.
The words send a brand new wave of heat flooding through your stomach, and there’s no hiding the way your cunt clenches around him this time.
Yoongi hisses, grabbing a handful of your ass. “Shit, you really want this.”
“Mhm,” you hum, eyes fluttering shut as he gropes you. You can’t believe this conversation is happening, even if you were the one who brought it up. “Only if you do,” you add belatedly.
“Are you kidding?” Yoongi asks. You force yourself to re-open your eyes, your heart skipping a beat at how happy he looks when you do. He’s smiling so big, gummy smile in full force. “Jagiya, I wish you would’ve told me sooner. Of course I want to have another baby with you.”
You stare at him, dumbfounded.
Yoongi stares back, studying your expression. “What?”
Like there’s no reason for you to be surprised by that!
“Yoongi,” you say, voice quieter now, hands sliding up his shoulders until they rest loosely behind his neck. “What did I do to get so lucky, seriously?”
“Married me,” he says simply.
You snort. “Idiot,” you say, but the affection in your voice is obvious.
Your thumbs brush along the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. “I mean it,” you continue. “You’re such a good dad. You’re good to me. You work your ass off and somehow still come home and build furniture for our kid and make pancakes shaped like dinosaurs. You make me feel like I won the lottery or something.”
Yoongi’s ears turn faintly pink, like they always do when you praise him like this.
“Alright,” he mutters. “You’re getting sappy on me.”
You grin. “You deserve it.”
He puffs up his cheeks for a second, adorably embarrassed. “You work just as hard.” A pause. “Also,” he adds, “you’re saying all of this while you’re sitting on my dick.”
You laugh helplessly. “Right. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he says, then he rolls his hips up into you again. The sudden movement knocks the breath out of you.
“Oh—!”
“Just don’t stop moving,” he finishes.
Your brain takes a second to catch up.
Right.
If this is really happening, if you’re really talking about making another baby…
You start rocking over him with more intention now, lifting yourself almost completely off his cock before sinking down again.
Yoongi’s head tips back immediately. “Oh fuck,” he groans.
Your rhythm gets steadier, your body leaning forward slightly as you ride him deeper and deeper.
“If we’re doing this,” you pant, “I should probably make it count.”
Yoongi looks up at you sharply. “What do you mean?”
You rock down hard again. He sucks in a breath through his teeth.
“You said it yourself. You’re deep.”
His eyes darken instantly. “Yeah…”
“So if we’re making a baby,” you tease, rocking your hips slowly, making sure he can feel every twitch of your pussy around his length, “I should probably take all of it.”
Yoongi groans low in his chest. “Fuck.”
Your pace picks up instantly, the idea feeding the heat already burning through your body.
“All your cum,” you continue, breath shaky. “Right where it’s supposed to go.”
His hands suddenly slide under your ass. Before you can react, he lifts you slightly and drives his hips up hard.
“Yoongi—!”
“Take it, then,” he says roughly.
The chair creaks loudly beneath you as he starts meeting your movements now, thrusting up into you while you ride him. Your thighs tighten around him as you obey without hesitation, bouncing harder now.
“Yoongi—fuck—”
“Keep going,” he mutters, jaw tight.
Your fingers curl into his hair as you ride him faster now, the earlier embarrassment completely gone. All you can think about is how good he feels inside you—how perfectly he fills you.
“Another baby,” you gasp, delirious.
“Another baby,” he repeats.
Your pace starts slipping as your pleasure creeps higher again. Yoongi notices instantly.
“Wait,” he says.
He suddenly stands again, quicker than you can question him. You yelp in surprise as he lifts you off the chair, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
“Yoongi—!”
“Hold on.”
Two quick steps later your back meets his desk.
The impact makes a dull thud. Yoongi pushes you back further until you’re lying fully across the surface. Your skirt bunches higher around your waist as he grabs your legs again.
Then he hooks your legs up over his shoulders. The stretch folds you almost completely in half, your hips tilted upward perfectly toward him.
Without any warning, he slides back inside you in one deep thrust.
“Fuck, Yoongi!” you wail.
“Yeah,” he groans. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
The angle makes everything feel deeper immediately. Your fingers scramble against the desk as he starts thrusting again, so hard you see stars. The desk knocks against the wall behind it with every push, surely chipping paint.
“Too deep,” you whine. “Toooooo deep, holy fuck—”
“Nah, you can take it,” he says. “Gotta make it count, remember?”
His hands grip under your thighs to keep you there, holding you open while he drives into you again and again.
“Look at this,” he groans, glancing down where your bodies meet. You can barely follow his gaze through the haze of pleasure. “Split open on me,” he continues hoarsely. “Taking all of it.”
“Yoongi, please!” you cry.
“Please what?”
Another deep thrust knocks the air out of you.
“Please—fuck—”
“You want it?”
You nod frantically.
“Say it,” he presses.
Your nails scrape uselessly at the smooth surface of the desk as he drives into you.
“Want your cum,” you manage. “Inside.”
“Fuck,” Yoongi growls. His pace picks up. “You’re gonna get it.”
“Yes—yes—!”
Yoongi leans forward, forcing your thighs tighter against your chest, folding you even further. The angle change has you reeling, crying out for him.
“Cum first. You’re gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl,” he grits out. Your back arches off the desk, as much as it can with the way he’s pressing you into it. “Then I’m filling you up.”
The promise snaps the last thread holding you together.
Your orgasm finally crashes through you, your whole body shaking as you clamp down around him.
Yoongi groans loudly. “Fuuuuuuck.”
One last deep thrust and he buries himself fully inside you. You feel it when he comes, heat flooding deep inside as he groans your name under his breath.
Your chest rises and falls rapidly against his where he stays leaned over you, still holding your legs over his shoulders.
“Well,” he pants after a minute, slowly releasing your legs to avoid straining them, “fuck.”
Your head tips back against the desk, a weak laugh escaping you.
Yoongi lifts his head just enough to look down at you. A slow, crooked smile spreads across his face.
“Happy birthday to me.”
a/n 2: ok i promise i'll let this couple rest peacefully now 😭
i know many of you are waiting for price of fame chapter 9 and/or the first taste chapter three! i promise i'm working to have them out ASAP, but arirang week may cause a bit of a delay. please be patient with me as we all collectively shake in our mf boots for the comeback!
please leave a comment or send me an ask with your thoughts! if you’d like to be added to my taglist, you can go ahead and fill out my form here (no need to do so if you’re already on my permanent taglist)
Summary: Yoongi accidentally causes internet chaos during a concert in Mexico, then calls you right after just to get teased for it. Somewhere between embarrassing fancams, late-night flirting, and a random colorful skull from a market, long distance suddenly feels a little harder than usual.
Status: Oneshot
Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader
Word Count: 4.4k~
Genre: Idol!AU, Fluff
Rated: T
Tags: Boyfriend!Yoongi, Secret, Slice of Life, LDR
Posting Date: May 17, 2026
SCC: Ko-fi ☕️ ・ Taglist 📝
That night, Seoul was at its coldest. Light rain had been falling since the afternoon, making the apartment air feel cool and cozy. You had already showered, wearing one of Yoongi’s oversized shirts that somehow had been staying in your closet more often than in his own lately. Your hair was still a little damp when you climbed onto the sofa carrying a thin blanket and a glass of iced americano with almost-melted ice.
The TV had actually been playing a drama for a while, but you weren’t really watching it. Your focus was only on mindlessly scrolling through TikTok. Your FYP that night was completely random—people reviewing spicy food, Jungkook gym edits, videos of angry cats getting bathed.
Until suddenly…
A concert video.
The lights were insanely bright. Fans screaming loud enough to burst your ears even through your phone speaker.
And in the middle of the screen—
Yoongi.
You automatically stopped scrolling.
His hair was soaked with sweat, his breathing still visibly heavy after performing. He was wearing a thin white tank top underneath and a black outer jacket that had already fallen halfway open. His face was red from the heat and exhaustion, but he still looked absurdly handsome in the most annoying way possible.
The caption said:
“HE ACCIDENTALLY TOOK OFF EVERYTHING 😭”
Your eyebrow instantly lifted.
“Hah?”
The video kept playing.
Yoongi was seen pulling off his jacket from behind his neck, probably because he was hot. But somehow, the inner shirt got dragged up with it.
And a split second later—
The entire venue literally exploded.
“KYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAA—”
The fans’ screams cracked from how loud they were.
The camera recording immediately shook violently. Someone dropped their phone downward. Someone else only recorded the venue ceiling because they got too hysterical.
Meanwhile Yoongi…
His expression was priceless.
He instantly stopped moving, blankly staring for one second like his brain was buffering, then quickly pulled his shirt back down while laughing shyly.
You immediately covered your mouth.
Then burst out laughing alone in the living room.
“OH MY GOD.”
Replay.
Replay again.
And the more you replayed it, the funnier it got because he genuinely looked like it was completely accidental. Even the member next to him turned around with a shocked-but-laughing expression.
The next TikTok appeared from another angle.
One zoomed in on Yoongi’s face.
One was in slow motion.
One used dramatic Titanic music.
Another one had the caption:
“Mexico survived earthquakes but not this.”
You practically collapsed against the sofa laughing.
“Poor him…”
But you still replayed it again.
Honestly, it wasn’t just funny.
Yoongi looked way too good there.
That white tank top clung to him because of the sweat. His arms were full of veins after performing. His black hair fell slightly onto his forehead. And his embarrassed, panicked expression somehow made everyone lose their minds even more.
Your phone even started constantly buzzing.
The BTS group chat instantly became chaotic.
Jimin:
hyung trending 😭😭😭
Hoseok:
I TOLD YOU NOT TO TAKE OFF YOUR JACKET ON STAGE
Jungkook:
Mexico will never move on
Namjoon:
internet is gone
You laughed again while screenshotting several videos.
Then without thinking, you opened Yoongi’s chat.
For a few seconds you were still smiling to yourself before finally typing.
You:
[5 screenshots]
Congratulations
Typing…
Typing stopped.
Typing again.
Yoongi:
I want to disappear
You immediately laughed again.
You:
No seriously 😭
This is so funny
Yoongi:
I just wanted to take off my jacket
You:
And accidentally took off your dignity too
Read.
No reply for a few seconds.
Then—
Yoongi:
You’re enjoying this way too much huh
You:
Very much
Yoongi:
Mean
You:
An entire stadium screamed like they got jumpscared
Yoongi:
I was shocked too
You:
Your face was so funny 😭😭😭
You replayed the video again while grinning to yourself.
Especially the part where Yoongi immediately pulled his shirt back down with an expression like “what the hell just happened?”
You even zoomed in on a certain screenshot.
Oh.
Oh no.
His arms were insane though.
Without realizing it, you took another screenshot.
You:
Btw are your arms even legal?
Yoongi took longer to reply this time.
Maybe he was showering. Maybe eating. Or maybe regretting his life because the entire internet was now filled with fancams of him.
Finally the chat bubble appeared again.
Yoongi:
Are you thirst tweeting now too?
You:
I’m a victim of the timeline
Yoongi:
Delete TikTok
You:
Can’t
The entertainment tonight is too good
Yoongi:
I’m tired
You:
But handsome
Read.
No reply for about a minute.
Then suddenly your phone screen showed an incoming video call.
You instantly laughed before answering.
The moment it connected, Yoongi’s face immediately filled the screen.
His hair was still slightly wet after showering. He was now wearing a loose black shirt with the collar hanging lower on one side. His skin was still slightly flushed from the concert and hot shower. He sat leaning against the hotel sofa while staring at you with a tired face.
“Just keep laughing.”
The second you heard his raspy post-performance voice, you laughed even harder.
“Sorry—really sorry but this is genuinely funny…”
Yoongi closed his eyes briefly while letting out a long sigh.
“I opened my phone and it was pure chaos.”
“Well that’s your fault.”
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“You know people are saying Mexico lost their minds tonight?”
“I want to uninstall the internet.”
You were still smiling widely while staring at the screen.
And damn it, the more you looked at him now, the more you kept thinking about him earlier on stage.
Sweaty. Heavy breathing. Tense arms.
God.
Yoongi watched your face for a few seconds. Then the corner of his lips lifted slightly.
“Oh.”
“What oh.”
“So you were freaking out too apparently.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I was just surprised.”
“How many times did you replay it?”
You instantly went silent.
Yoongi narrowed his eyes slightly. “Exactly.”
“…a few.”
“How many is a few?”
“Well… several.”
“You took screenshots too.”
Your eyes widened immediately.
“How do you know?!”
“I can tell from your face.”
“What’s wrong with my face?”
“You look guilty.”
You let out a small huff while leaning back against the sofa again.
Yoongi watched you with a faint smile. Even exhausted like that, he still had energy to tease you.
“You seriously…” you muttered quietly.
“What?”
“You made an entire country hysterical.”
“One country is exaggerating.”
“No it’s not. Their screaming was terrifying.”
Yoongi just laughed softly.
And oh my god, that soft laugh. You hated how easily he made your heart feel weird just from his voice alone.
“You need to see the edits now,” you said while reopening TikTok. “Someone already made a slow motion version.”
“Don’t show me.”
“Too late.”
You played one video.
The second the hysterical fan screams blasted from your phone, Yoongi immediately covered his face with one hand.
“OH MY GOD.”
You burst out laughing again.
“Your expression is so funny!”
“I’m genuinely embarrassed.”
“It’s rare seeing you this embarrassed.”
“Because it wasn’t intentional.”
“You literally buffered on stage.”
“I panicked.”
“It showed.”
Yoongi sighed deeply while sinking further into the hotel sofa. His shirt shifted slightly higher around the sleeves. And you… unconsciously glanced again.
Yoongi noticed. Very noticed.
“What are you doing?”
“Hm?”
“You keep staring.”
“I’m not.”
“You think I don’t know?”
You instantly got flustered.
“Fine, maybe a little.”
“You said it was funny.”
“It is funny.”
“So what is it now?”
You bit your lip briefly before quietly answering,
“…handsome too.”
Yoongi went silent for a few seconds. Then he smiled very slightly. A thin smile. The kind that made your heart melt because he genuinely looked happy hearing it.
“You make me feel confident so easily.”
“Hey don’t get too confident.”
“Why?”
“Or you’ll intentionally take your shirt off at concerts.”
He immediately laughed.
“I’m not that bad.”
“You sure?”
“You’ve already seen it plenty of times too.”
And like someone pressed pause—
You instantly froze. “…what?”
Yoongi casually leaned back while looking at you.
“Why are you pretending to be shocked now?”
“MIN YOONGI.”
“What?”
“That’s a different context.”
“What’s the difference?”
“AN ENTIRE STADIUM SAW THIS.”
“But who sees it the most often?”
Your cheeks instantly heated up.
“That’s not the point—”
“You literally sleep hugging me every night.”
“STOP.”
“And now you’re embarrassed?”
You immediately covered your face with a sofa pillow while groaning in embarrassment.
Yoongi just laughed victoriously from the other side.
“Finally embarrassed too.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“You started it earlier.”
“But now you’re doing it on purpose!”
“Hm.”
“What do you mean hm.”
“It’s cute seeing you flustered.”
You peeked from behind the pillow.
Yoongi was still smiling faintly while watching you. His face looked far more relaxed now compared to the beginning of the call.
And strangely enough, you really loved being the reason he relaxed after a long concert like this.
“You’re really tired huh?” you finally asked, your voice softer.
Yoongi nodded slightly.
“A little.”
“Did you eat?”
“Yeah.”
“Drink water?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Yoongi.”
He laughed softly again.
“I drank.”
You watched his face for a few seconds.
His eyes were slightly red from exhaustion. His voice sounded heavier too. But he still called you just because you teased him about that stupid wardrobe malfunction earlier.
Your chest warmed on its own.
“You should sleep later,” you said quietly.
“Later.”
“Don’t keep saying later.”
He looked at you for a moment.
Then quietly said,
“I miss you.”
Your expression instantly softened.
“…it’s only been a week.”
“Long.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“Yeah.”
You smiled faintly.
And for a few seconds, you just stared at each other through the screen, both exhausted but comfortable.
Until Yoongi finally spoke again casually,
“But seriously.”
“Hm?”
“You were more excited than the Mexico fans.”
You instantly glared.
“Because that’s my boyfriend.”
“Oh so you were jealous?”
“A little.”
“Aigoo…”
“What do you mean aigoo.”
“You’re cute.”
“Not cute.”
“You’re jealous over an accidental shirt slip.”
“It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”
“Because it is funny.”
You huffed in embarrassment.
And Yoongi, who had looked half-dead exhausted this whole time, just smiled even softer while quietly saying,
“The one who sees the most is still you anyway.”
You immediately collapsed backward onto the sofa while covering your face.
“OH MY GOD MIN YOONGI.”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
You were still lying flat on the sofa with your face covered by a pillow, while Yoongi’s soft laughter kept coming from your phone speaker.
Satisfied laughter. The kind of laughter from someone who realized he had successfully made his girlfriend malfunction.
“Get up.”
“No.”
“Why are you so embarrassed?”
“Because you said it like that!”
“But it’s true.”
You lowered the pillow slightly, glaring at the screen.
“Yoongi.”
“Hm?”
“Don’t flirt when your face still looks like this after a concert.”
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Why?”
“Dangerous.”
That smile immediately appeared again. Small, crooked, annoying.
“I’m literally just sitting here.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem.”
Yoongi laughed softly while resting his head against the hotel sofa. The dim room lighting made the lines of his face look even sharper. His black hair was still slightly damp and falling over his forehead in a way that looked way too good for someone claiming to be exhausted.
And the thing making your heart race the most— He looked so comfortable right now. Relaxed. Soft. But his eyes hadn’t left you this entire time.
“You seriously…” you muttered quietly while avoiding his gaze, “you just caused internet chaos and still have time to tease me.”
“Because I miss you.”
His answer came too fast. Too honest. Your heart instantly skipped weirdly.
“You usually get clingy when you’re tired,” you said, trying to sound casual.
“And?”
“And right now I can’t hug you.”
Yoongi went quiet for a moment.
His expression immediately softened a little more.
“I know.”
The atmosphere suddenly became calmer.
You were already used to tour schedules. Used to video calls from different countries. Used to falling asleep on call until one of you passed out first. But somehow this time felt different.
Maybe because Yoongi’s schedule was too packed. Maybe because you had gotten too used to being close before he left. Or maybe because right now he was looking at you like that while seeming like he really wanted to come home.
“You know,” he suddenly said, his voice low and raspy, “right after the concert, the first thing I did was check my phone for your message.”
You instantly looked back at the screen.
“Seriously?”
“Hm.”
“Why?”
“I already knew you’d make fun of me.”
You laughed softly.
“And you still looked for it.”
“Because I missed you.”
God. You genuinely couldn’t handle it when he suddenly got soft like this. Especially when he followed it up with a tiny smile while secretly staring at you.
“Yoongi…”
“Hm?”
“You make it hard to sleep.”
“I haven’t even started yet.”
You instantly froze.
“What do you mean you haven’t started?”
He casually shrugged a little.
“You said I was flirting earlier.”
“And?”
“But I was just acting normal.”
Your cheeks instantly heated up again.
“Okay then don’t start.”
“What if I do?”
“MIN YOONGI.”
He laughed softly again. Not loudly, but low enough to make your stomach feel weird. Then he moved slightly closer to the camera. And god. That was a terrible mistake. Because now his face completely filled your phone screen.
“You know what the funniest part earlier was?” he asked quietly.
“What?”
“You got possessive immediately.”
“I was not possessive.”
“You literally said ‘that’s my boyfriend.’”
“Well he is.”
“And then you got jealous.”
“A little.”
“You really like me huh.”
You instantly glared in embarrassment.
“Overconfident.”
“But it's true.”
You let out a long sigh while covering half your face with the blanket. Yoongi watched you with a faint smile.
“Cute.”
“Don’t call me cute.”
“Why?”
“It just makes me more annoyed.”
“But you’re smiling.”
You reflexively touched your lips.
Damn it.
He was right.
Yoongi instantly looked satisfied.
“I know your expressions by heart.”
“You don’t need to know them by heart.”
“Too late.”
A few seconds later the atmosphere became quiet again. You could hear the hotel AC from his side. Occasionally there were distant sounds from the hallway, but other than that there was only the sound of your breathing.
Yoongi looked really exhausted now. His eyes were half-lidded. His loose black shirt slipped slightly off his shoulder when he moved. And unfortunately it made you remember the earlier video again.
Yoongi noticed again. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re spacing out.”
“I just remembered earlier.”
“Which earlier?”
“You know which one.”
He smiled faintly.
“Oh. The Mexico incident.”
“Don’t call it an incident like it’s a scandal.”
“It felt like one.”
“The internet literally lost its mind.”
“You did too.”
You sighed softly.
“Well how was I supposed to react…”
“Hm?”
“You earlier were…”
You stopped yourself. Yoongi waited. And somehow that was worse than if he pushed you. Because he just quietly stared at you, making you even more nervous.
“What?” he asked again softly.
“…hot.”
Yoongi immediately tried to hold back a smile.
“Oh?”
“Don’t get too confident yet.”
“But you called me hot.”
“You are hot.”
He finally let out a small laugh.
“Wow.”
“You’re not fair.”
“Why?”
“You know exactly what your post-concert face does to people.”
“What does it do?”
“Yoongi.”
“Answer first.”
You covered your face again.
Which only amused him more.
“Aigoo…”
“Stop laughing.”
“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”
“And you’re so evil when you miss me.”
Yoongi went quiet for a moment.
Then with a lower, softer voice—
“I really do miss you badly right now.”
Your heart instantly dropped. The way he said things like that was always dangerous. Not excessive. Not dramatic. But because his tone stayed calm, it somehow felt more real.
“When are you coming home?” you asked softly.
“Still a few more weeks.”
You instantly pouted.
“That’s too long.”
“Hm.”
“I hate long distance.”
“Me too.”
Yoongi slowly rubbed his face before looking at you again.
“That’s why when I get home later, don’t complain.”
“Why do I suddenly feel nervous?”
“You’re the one who called me hot earlier.”
“I REGRET SAYING THAT.”
He laughed again.
“You can’t take it back.”
“Yes I can.”
“No you can’t.”
“You’re annoying.”
“But you miss me.”
You stayed quiet. Because he was right. And Yoongi knew you too well to the point where he could already see the answer before you even said it.
He leaned back again while staring at the screen for a few seconds. Then casually said,
“After the tour, I probably won’t let go of you.”
Your heart dropped.
“Yoongi…”
“Hm?”
“Don’t say things like that while looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“LIKE THAT.”
He laughed softly.
“I’m just saying I miss you.”
“The way you say it is the problem.”
“What if I was at the apartment right now?”
You instantly went completely silent. Yoongi saw your reaction and his smile became even thinner.
“Hmm.”
“Don’t hmm.”
“I’m just imagining it.”
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“A little.”
“Yoongi…”
“I’d probably pull you onto the sofa already.”
Your breath instantly caught.
“And then you’d say you’re tired.”
“I am tired.”
“But you’d still come over to me.”
You genuinely couldn’t handle him once he started talking in that low voice. Especially now that his face already looked sleepy and soft. The deadliest combination.
“And then?” you asked quietly without realizing it.
Yoongi’s eyes immediately lifted slightly.
“Oh, so you want to keep listening.”
“Actually, never mind.”
“No. You asked.”
You bit your lip slightly. And Yoongi saw it. Of course he saw it.
“So dangerous,” he muttered softly.
“What?”
“The way you look when you’re embarrassed.”
You instantly turned your face away. Which only made him smile even more fondly.
“Come home soon okay,” you finally said quietly.
Yoongi’s expression instantly softened again.
“Hm.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you more.”
“Overconfident.”
“I’ll prove it later.”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The time difference started becoming more and more annoying once BTS began touring in America.
In Seoul it was already evening while the sun there had only just risen. Sometimes you had just finished work while Yoongi was still at rehearsal. Sometimes you woke up in the morning to dozens of random texts from him sent at three in the morning local time because he couldn’t sleep again.
And the longer the tour went on, the more the longing started to settle in too.
Not the dramatic kind of longing that makes you cry every night. But the kind that appears in small things.
Like when you automatically took out two glasses from the cabinet before realizing you were living alone in the apartment right now. Or when you found Yoongi’s black hoodie still hanging over the living room chair and instinctively hugged it for a second because it still carried traces of his familiar perfume and laundry scent.
Or when you came home exhausted from work and realized there was no Yoongi sprawled across the sofa pretending to sleep just so you would approach him first.
That night you were sitting at the apartment work desk while staring at packaging design files that hadn’t gotten anywhere for hours. The desk lamp glowed brightly while the rest of the apartment stayed dim and quiet. Light rain fell outside the window, making the atmosphere feel calmer and lonelier at the same time.
You had just changed the song on Spotify when your phone vibrated.
Incoming video call:
Yoongi.
A smile instantly appeared on your face without realizing it.
You hadn’t even pressed accept yet, but half your exhaustion was already gone.
The moment the call connected, the screen immediately showed a shaky camera moving everywhere. At first there was only a bright sky and the sound of people passing by. Then a few seconds later Yoongi’s face appeared.
And seriously.
He looked way too relaxed for someone who was supposed to be world famous.
A black cap pulled low. An oversized gray hoodie. His mask was hanging under his chin because he was probably too lazy to talk with it covering his face. Black hair sticking out slightly from under the cap and moving with the wind.
He walked slowly while holding his phone low, like he was genuinely just some ordinary person wandering around an evening market.
Even though he was Min Yoongi.
That was exactly what stressed you out.
“You’re outside?” you asked while automatically sitting up straighter.
“Hm.”
Yoongi’s answers were always short when he was relaxed. His voice sounded heavier from tour exhaustion, but there was a lighter tone that rarely appeared whenever he was genuinely enjoying himself.
The camera shifted slightly, showing small stores around him. Everything was full of color. Neon hanging fabrics, hand-painted ceramics, tiny lights, and faint street music in the distance.
You immediately understood why he liked that place. Because it felt alive. And because it was exactly the kind of place that would make you stop at every shop just to stare at random cute things.
“You went out alone?” you asked again.
“Hoseok and Jungkook are eating. I got bored at the hotel.”
His answer sounded so casual that you had to stop yourself from sighing loudly.
Yoongi was always like this.
Sometimes he still forgot who he was now.
Not because he was arrogant or intentionally dismissing his own popularity. Actually the opposite. Sometimes he genuinely still thought he could casually walk around without attracting too much attention, especially outside Korea.
Even now?
Even people who didn’t follow BTS would probably still recognize his face.
And you knew perfectly well the other members often said the same thing—Yoongi was sometimes way too relaxed about himself.
“Are you even being careful?” you asked while lowering your laptop volume.
“I’m wearing a cap.”
You stared at the screen flatly.
“That’s not a disguise.”
“I’m also wearing a hoodie.”
“Wow. Incredible.”
Yoongi chuckled softly.
His laugh mixed faintly with footsteps and market noise, but it was still enough to make the corner of your lips lift too.
Even so, you kept paying attention to the surroundings behind the camera. People passed by without caring, but there was still a small nervous feeling sitting in your chest.
Not because you didn’t trust him to take care of himself.
But because you knew what the world was like now. One person realizes that’s Min Yoongi from BTS, and five minutes later there could already be a crowd.
And the funny thing was, Yoongi himself still looked genuinely confused whenever that happened.
“You seriously…” you muttered while leaning back in your chair, “still think you guys are nobodies sometimes huh?”
Yoongi stayed quiet for a second before finally smiling faintly.
“Sometimes I forget.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m just taking a short walk.”
“You say ‘just taking a short walk’ like you’re some guy running the neighborhood photocopy shop.”
He laughed more clearly this time.
And honestly, you liked hearing him laugh like that.
Lately the tour schedule has been too exhausting. His face often looked tired. So every time Yoongi sounded genuinely relaxed and comfortable, you felt relieved too.
The camera moved again, showing rows of tiny colorful stores. Neon-painted Mexico skulls, brightly embroidered fabrics, flower mugs, and strange ornaments that somehow still looked artistic.
“You’d love places like this,” he suddenly said.
And he was right.
Your eyes were instantly drawn to all the colors.
You have always loved bright things. Random tiny objects that were cute and overly crowded-looking. Even your apartment had colorful decorations. Yoongi often mocked for having “too many colors.”
“I bought something for you,” he added casually, as if that sentence alone didn’t instantly warm your heart.
You automatically turned quickly toward the screen.
“Hah?”
Yoongi looked satisfied seeing your reaction.
He was always like that. Sometimes purposely saying things suddenly just to watch your shocked expression.
“I kept seeing it and thinking about you.”
And god.
No matter how simple the sentence was, it still always made your chest soften.
Because Yoongi wasn’t the type to openly act romantic. Which was exactly why small things like “I saw this and thought of you” felt far more special.
You immediately started guessing excitedly.
Maybe a cute plate.
Maybe embroidered fabric.
Maybe a long brightly-colored dress Yoongi himself would never touch but would still choose because “this is so you.”
The more you imagined it, the more curious you became.
Especially because the way Yoongi kept holding back his smile clearly showed he was enjoying this.
“Come on, show me,” you whined.
“No.”
“Yoongi.”
“You’ll laugh.”
“It’s fine.”
He finally stopped walking in front of one of the stores. The camera lowered slightly toward shelves full of colorful ornaments.
Then he picked something up.
At first you didn’t realize what it was.
Until he lifted it closer to the camera.
“…is that a skull?”
Yoongi instantly grinned faintly.
“Yeah.”
You stared at the screen for several seconds with a blank expression.
Out of everything in Mexico…
Your boyfriend chose a skull.
But of course it wasn’t just any skull.
It was a brightly painted Día de los Muertos ceramic skull. Pink flowers, blue lines, neon yellow, tiny bright green details. It looked more cute than scary.
Still—
“Why a skull…”
“But the colors are cute.”
“You’re seriously weird.”
Yoongi actually looked proud of his choice.
He slowly rotated the skull toward the camera like he was showing off expensive artwork.
And the longer you looked at it, the more it really did feel… very you.
Crowded colors.
Weird.
Slightly chaotic.
“You like it, right?”
You tried holding back your smile.
Because honestly, this really was Min Yoongi-style romance.
Not flowers.
Not stuffed dolls.
Not expensive jewelry.
But a random colorful skull he saw at a market and immediately thought of you.
And somehow that made your heart ache from affection.
“You know normal people buy flowers for their girlfriends.”
“I’m different.”
“Clearly.”
“You don’t like it?”
You finally laughed softly while leaning your head back against the chair.
“I do…”
“Exactly.”
“But you’re still weird.”
Yoongi laughed in satisfaction again.
Behind him, the shop lights had started turning on because evening was approaching there. The bright colors around him looked warmer now. And in the middle of that crowded market, Yoongi stood there holding his ugly-cute little skull proudly.
Strangely enough…
That sight only made you miss him more.
Because you could clearly imagine him casually walking from store to store, then stopping the second he saw that thing and thinking:
“This would definitely be something Y/N likes.”
And now you really wished you were there with him.
summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, gang related activity, and murder; five things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.
warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni.
pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f.reader.
word count: 13.6k.
chapter playlist: knocking on heaven’s door - bob dylan
masterlist directory
You stared back at the brunet, unable to form words. Two days of absolute silence, and here he was so suddenly. You didn't know whether to be angry or relieved at his presence. "I, uh, went to Makoto, but your boss said you never came in for your shift or called," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thought I'd come make sure you were okay."
“A call would have sufficed, if you actually cared,” you stated flatly. You decided both emotions were valid. You were undeniably happy to see Jungkook, but the sight of him only magnified your anger. It shouldn't have taken him two days to finally reach out.
"I thought it was better to give you space after what happened. I know how you are, y/n."
You let out a short scoff. "How I am?" you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows, your voice slightly rising. “Go ahead and enlighten me on how I am, Jungkook.”
Jungkook sighed, his lip ring clanking against his teeth as he pulled his bottom lip inward. “Can we talk inside? I really don’t wanna do this in your hallway.” He pleaded. Jungkook was never truly the confrontational type, which contradicted you because you in fact were the confrontational type.
You huffed, brushing past him to unlock your apartment door. Once both of you were inside, you shut the door firmly. Jungkook immediately walked to your couch and sat down, patting the cushion beside him as an invitation for you to sit. You hesitated for a brief moment before giving in, placing your plushy and purse on the table.
You sat beside him, hands clasped tightly in your lap, avoiding eye contact. The tension in the silence was thick. “So... why weren't you at work today? It's not like you to miss a shift.” he finally started. You fiddled with your fingers, scrambling for an excuse for your absence. “I….umm… went to the Daegu fair,” you admitted, only fabricating the truth just a tad. "With Mina."
Jungkook tilted his head, a frown forming his lips. "You did a no-call, no-show to go to the Daegu fair? What were you thinking?" he asked, ready to lecture you. You certainly weren't in the mood to hear it, especially from him. Not now. It felt like he was deliberately trying to pivot away from the real issue at hand; your relationship and his cold, dead silence.
"I was thinking I wanted to have some fun, and not sit at work wondering why the man I care about ghosted me for two days." you snapped. This brought the brunet down a notch, making him exhale heavily. The room fell silent once again, but not for very long. "Look, I'm sorry," Jungkook said. "It's just... we've been best friends since we were kids and–"
“And you still only see me as that." You cut him off.
"No," he countered sternly. "What we have is special because of our history. We got to be best friends before having a romantic connection, which is rare. You're not like any girl I've dated. You’re much more to me. I don't want to mess this up. I don't wanna lose you. I can't. The thought terrifies me because I’m losing more than my girl, I’m losing my best friend too,"
Your eyes finally connected with his, your demeanor softening at his words. "I want our first time to be special," he continued. "I don't want it to be random sex like I’m used to. I want your first experience to be your best experience.”
You sighed, nodding your head. "You're right. It should be special..." you replied. You understood Jungkook's view; it was sweet, and it showed just how much he truly valued you. You appreciated his sentiment, but you were still frustrated. Sexually frustrated. You were ready for more. It was easy for Jungkook to sideline sex when he’d been having it since high school. Meanwhile, you, the innocent virgin, had spent all this time waiting for your first crush to choose you. Now that he finally has, the reward feels slightly lackluster.
"I'm sorry," you finally said. You weren't entirely sure if you meant it, but for now, you just wanted to put the drama behind you. Jungkook smiled, taking your hands in his, and you gladly let him. "I missed you," he said. "It doesn't feel right not talking to you every day."
You returned a genuine smile. "The feeling is mutual. But if you ever ghost me again, prepare for me to come to the tattoo shop with a vengeance." You playfully squinted your eyes at him.
Jungkook chuckled, nodding his head. "I wouldn't expect anything less." He says. After a moment of silence the brunet’s eyes flicked behind you, catching sight of the new plush toy sitting on top of the table. “Nice plushie,” he smirked, knowing all too well how much you loved anything Hello Kitty related. “Guess you and Mina had a good time at the fair, huh?”
You followed his gaze to the plushie. “Yeah… surprisingly, I did.” You chewed on your bottom lip, your mind suddenly miles away, fixed on the raven.
"Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up today after ditching without a call," Jimin said, a smirk plastered on his face as he stepped out of the kitchen with two glasses of water. "The old man's gonna have a field day." He was joking, but there was truth to it.
You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. You knew a lecture was coming, along with an endless amount of dish and bathroom duty. Possibly even termination. Mr. Kim hated when staff called in, but he especially loathed it when they didn’t.
"I’m nervous as it is," you said. "Did Mr. Kim say anything to you about me?"
"To me? No," Jimin replied, setting the glasses down at the table he was waiting on. "But you know how he is about punctuality. No exceptions."
You rubbed the nape of your neck and slowly shuffled toward the back of the kitchen to meet your doom.
“Good luck!” Jimin teased.
God, what would you do if you lost your job at Makoto? The job market was brutal right now, and finding new employment wouldn’t be easy. You were terrified of the domino effect that would follow.
Mr. Kim noticed you immediately upon entering the kitchen, but to your surprise, he only nodded in your direction. "Good evening, y/n. Glad to see you came in today," he said calmly before dusting his hands on his apron. “Hurry up and clock in, Jimin could use some assistance out there.”
Your eyebrows scrunched. ‘That’s it? No yelling? No speech? What's his angle?’ you wondered hesitantly.
“O-oh, uh… of course…” you stammered. You grabbed your time card and swiped it through the clock. You glanced back at Mr. Kim, who handled the orders just as he did on any other day. But today shouldn’t have been like ‘any other day’. It should have been a day of reckoning for ditching work yesterday, yet Mr. Kim didn’t even seem to care. You decided that you would just rip the bandage off and bring it up yourself.
"Hey, Mr. Kim, about not calling in yesterday…" you started, but the old man instantly cut you off.
"Don't worry about it, kid! It happens." He said, quickly dismissing the conversation.
You stood stunned. This was certainly unlike your boss. Mr. Kim could be kind when he wanted to be, but when it came to work, he was a stickler for the rules. As Jimin had said, there were no exceptions.
You wondered what could have made him so nonchalant about a no-call, no-show, until suddenly, Yoongi's voice flashed through your mind.
"Don't stress about that, princess. I'II deal with your boss after the fact."
Could it be that Yoongi had actually followed through? It was the only explanation for Mr. Kim's uncharacteristic behavior. Even though the raven had said he’d handle it, you hadn’t honestly believed him. You didn’t think Yoongi could actually hold that kind of power over someone as headstrong as Mr. Kim. It left you wondering what else, exactly, that man could control.
Nevertheless, you smiled slightly to yourself, knowing he had used that power to keep your job intact. You grabbed an apron from the hook, along with a notepad and pen, preparing to head out to the floor. Just then, Jimin walked in, his expression uneasy. “What’s your problem?” You ask him, an eyebrow perched.
"T-table three wants you to take their order instead of me," the brunet said.
You didn't even need to question why; his unease told you exactly who was sitting at table three. You nodded, tying your apron around your waist. Jimin exchanged a look with Mr. Kim behind you before you headed out to the dining floor. To your lack of surprise, there sat Yoongi and Joon across from each other. You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, a small smile trying to peek through.
"There's my favorite waitress," the raven smiled as you approached. His left arm rested casually on the back of his chair.
You squinted at him, folding your arms across your chest. "Looks like someone’s too anxious to wait until tonight," you stated.
Yoongi shrugged. “What can I say? You make me feel like I’ve got a school crush. I want to see you whenever I can.” He smirked, biting down on his bottom lip.
You rolled your eyes, but inside, butterflies were already beginning to flutter. “Are you two here to order, or are you just here to cause trouble?” you asked, quickly changing the subject. You didn’t want to look like you actually enjoyed Yoongi’s presence, not with Jimin lurking nearby. He had a big mouth, and before you knew it, Jungkook and Mina would find out that there was something unspoken forming between you and Yoongi.
“I don’t know about the boss man here, but I could go for some Jjajangmyeon and a cool bottle of soju. Don’t bring me any of that warm shit,” Joon said.
You eyed the lanky man. “We don’t serve alcohol here,” you stated dryly.
“Well, that’s a fucking buzzkill. What do y’all serve here?”
“You can try looking at the menu in front of you.” You snarked. You couldn’t help the smart remarks when it came to Joon. He simply rubbed you the wrong way, Yoongi’s right-hand man or not. You didn’t like him.
Joon smirked, your snarkiness having no bearing on him. “Someone’s testy today. This isn’t very good customer service,” he joked, though he picked up the menu nonetheless. He scanned through the drink section before closing it. “I’ll take a cola,” he said.
You wrote down his order, then turned to Yoongi, who seemingly hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time. “And you?”you questioned the raven.
“I’ll take some water, sweetheart.” The raven said.
You nodded, not needing to write it down. As you collected their menus from the table, you hesitated. “Hey, um…” you started, keeping your voice low. “Thanks for actually talking to my boss. You seriously saved me from getting fired.”
Yoongi tilted his head slightly. “You said ‘actually’ as though you had no faith in my word. You didn’t think I’d talk to your boss?” he questioned.
“You want me to be honest?”
“That’s all I ever want you to be with me, sweetheart.”
“Okay then,” you nodded, keeping your voice hushed so you wouldn't be overheard. “No. I didn’t think you’d talk to my boss. I thought it was just a little lie you told to get me to come with you yesterday.”
The raven smirked at your doubt. “One thing you need to learn about me, princess, is that my word is bond. When I say I’m gonna do something, I do it.” He held his smirk, but there was something beneath it now, something entirely serious. Dangerous, even.
And you liked it. Shamefully.
"Noted," you said, your gaze locked with his dark, intense eyes. Before the moment could stretch any further, the bell above the front door chimed, snapping you back to reality. "'I’ll be right with you-" The customer service voice died in your throat. You froze as you turned around, coming face to face with a familiar brunet.
"J-Jungkook?" You stuttered. “What’re you doing here?”
Jungkook's smile vanished as he looked past you, spotting Yoongi sitting there. He squinted, a hard edge replacing his previously soft expression. "I'm on my break... thought I'd come in to see you." His eyes remained glued to the raven. "What the hell is he doing here?"
You looked back at Yoongi, his eyes dark and intimidating as they always were, his glare on Jungkook vicious. "They're, uh... ordering food," you said. You could feel people in the restaurant starting to stare, Jimin included.
"I think they need to order food somewhere else," Jungkook spat, his gaze hardening on Yoongi.
"Is that right?" The raven finally spoke, his voice dangerously monotone.
"You trying to start somethin', chief?" Joon chimed in, shifting in his seat, fully prepared to back Yoongi. “Because we don’t have a problem sending you out on a stretcher.”
You shivered at those words. Knowing there was no way this situation would end well for Jungkook, you quickly stepped in. Grabbing the bushy haired man by the arm, you pushed him away from their table and steered him toward an empty one across the restaurant."Are you trying to get yourself jumped?" you asked, keeping your voice low as you questioned the brunet.
Jungkook scoffed. "I'm not scared of those pussies like everyone else. Especially when it comes to you." He finally pulled his gaze away from their table and onto you. "You okay? Is he still harassing you?" he asked.
You sighed. You understood Jungkook's frustration with seeing Yoongi. After everything you had told him about your first encounter with the raven, plus his murdered friend having some type of connection to him, you could imagine why he was so bold.
"They're really just here to eat, and no matter how much disdain I have for someone, I still have to act on a professional level while at work. I don't think fighting helps my case."
The brunet ran his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply. "You're right. I'm sorry," he apologized, his hand reaching out to gently rub your arm.
"Don't worry about it, okay? Just sit down and order something. You came here for me, right?" You smiled, hoping that would bring his mood back up. The brunet grinned back, unable to stay angry when you were in his presence. "Right," he agreed, taking a seat at the table you had escorted him to."My focus is on you, beautiful." He placed a hand on your hip.
You could feel the cold stare burning into your back, the raven glaring daggers in your direction.You didn't bother to look back as you kept your attention on Jungkook.
"Hey, waitress," Yoongi's voice suddenly chimed behind you. You turned around. "Is this how your boss runs his establishment? How about instead of fucking around with your little boyfriend, you get us our orders?" There was venom in his voice when he spat the word “boyfriend”. Of course, no one could spot it except you– and maybe Joon. You scowled at the raven for calling you out so loudly.
"Hey," Jimin whispered, quickly walking up to Jungkook's table. He nudged your shoulder. "You take care of their orders, and I'll take Jungkook's. I don't wanna know what those guys will do if they have to wait any longer."
You complied, not wanting to take that chance and find out either. Leaving Jimin to handle Jungkook, you headed back into the kitchen and ripped the order from your notepad to hook it onto the ticket line. "The hell is going on out there?" Mr. Kim asked, frowning.
"Nothing anymore. Jimin and I have it under control," you assured him as you grabbed two cups from the dish shelf. Moving toward the beverage station, you filled both cups with ice before pouring their respective drinks. You marched back out to the dining room and set the cups down on Yoongi's table. "Satisfied?" you asked the raven.
"Not nearly," he grimaced. "What would satisfy me right now would leave you devastated, sweetheart." His voice was calm, but his words were dark. You chose not to push, truly not wanting to know what he meant by that. "Your food should be out shortly," you said to Joon, deliberately avoiding the raven’s eyes.
You turned around, leaving Yoongi and Joon alone at their table. Spotting Jungkook waving you over, you walked up to the grinning brunet with a playful sigh. “Yes, trouble?” you asked. He rolled his eyes at the newfound nickname. “I was thinking… How about a movie night tonight? I think we’re overdue for one.” he suggested. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “You mean a repeat of last time? Because unless my memory is failing me, that was an absolute disaster.”
"Yeah, well, this time will be different. After our talk last night, I'm hoping we both have a better understanding of our feelings," he said, taking your hand in his. You tilted your head, biting the inside of your cheek. Even if you did want to give in to his movie night plan, you couldn't. You already had plans with a certain black haired man tonight.
"You know, I'd love to, but I already made plans with Mina tonight,” you lied, offering a convincing smile. "She wants us to have a whole girls' night in. Makeup, nails, talking about our relationships. The whole works."
Jungkook pouted. "First the fair, now a girls' night? I'm beginning to think Mina is stealing my girl." He joked.
You giggled, rolling your eyes at the brunet. "Don't be so dramatic," you said. "We always have tomorrow night."
“Fine,” Jungkook relented, tossing a look of fake defeat your way. “I didn't wanna watch your cheesy movies tonight anyway.”
You gasped, slapping a hand over your heart as if deeply offended. “You love my cheesy movies.”
"No, I love you. There's a difference," Jungkook said.
The words hung heavily in the air between you, and you instantly froze. The words echoed in your mind, catching you entirely off guard. Jungkook had never confessed his feelings so plainly before. You had a lifetime of history together as best friends, but hearing him say those words out loud changed everything in an instant. You stared at him, speechless. Realizing exactly what he had just admitted, Jungkook's eyes widened, and a dark blush rapidly overtook his face.
"S-so tomorrow night?" he stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he scratched the nape of his neck in pure embarrassment.
"Uh-yeah... yeah... see you tomorrow night," you stuttered, your voice trailing off.
You had absolutely no idea how to respond, and your only saving grace was a nearby customer waving you over to request their bill. Seizing the lifeline, you quickly retreated to their table and left Jungkook alone with his thoughts. The moment your back was turned, the brunet squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face in his hands as he cussed quietly to himself.
You grabbed the customer's card from the table and turned to go swipe it at the kiosk, but before you could move any further, you noticed Yoongi and Joon preparing to leave. You furrowed your brows; Joon's food hadn't even been served yet. "Um... hello? Did you forget you ordered food?" you questioned the lanky man as they walked past you.
Yoongi didn't say a word, his expression unreadable as he moved toward the exit.
"I think I'll pass on the ramen, Wonder Woman. The atmosphere in this joint kinda makes me sick," Joon said.
You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue as you watched them head for the door, but they didn't leave without throwing one last vicious glare at Jungkook. Jungkook, of course, glared right back.
"See ya around, chief," Joon scowled in his direction before they finally walked out into the street.
You hadn’t received a single text from Yoongi by the time your shift ended. You had been entirely certain the raven would be eagerly waiting the exact second you clocked out, but an hour had already passed since you’d been off. Trying to shake the growing unease, you showered and slipped into a cute little floral dress. It was a stark contrast to the workout outfit you had worn to that first so called “kickback”.
You sighed, staring down at your blank phone screen. Still, there was no call, no text. What was his issue? One minute he’s telling you how he wants to see you whenever he can, and now he was acting like he couldn't care less about the plans he had made. He couldn't possibly be upset about Jungkook, could he? How childish if he was.
A soft knock suddenly sounded at your front door.
‘Finally,’ you thought, a wave of relief washing over you. ‘Took him long enough.’
You walked into the living room and peeked through the peephole. You were fully expecting to see a familiar mess of long, dark hair, but instead, your neighbor, Hoseok, stood on the other side. You hadn't seen much of him since you found out about his history with Yoongi. Pushing down your surprise, you opened the door and greeted him. "Hoseok, hey," you smiled.
Hoseok returned the small smile, but his expression remained entirely serious. "Hey, y/n. Do you mind if I come in?" He asks. You hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward your bedroom where your phone sat in total silence, almost as if Yoongi might choose this exact second to call you."It won't take too long," Hoseok assured you, his voice gentle but firm, as if he had read your mind completely.
You nodded, opening the door wider for him to enter your apartment before closing it behind him. Hoseok stood there in the entryway, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. You had never seen him look so serious; it was actually a little scary. Whenever you ran into him around the building, Hoseok always had a bright smile on his face. Seeing Yoongi that night really seemed to have shattered his entire personality.
“So, how do you know Yoongi?" Hoseok asked abruptly.
"Uh.." You recounted the moment you had first met the raven, remembering how close you had been to stabbing Joon with a pair of chopsticks until Yoongi intervened. "I met him at my job not long ago." You rubbed your arm awkwardly, completely refusing to go into full detail.
"Do you owe him money or something? Are you safe? Is he forcing you to sleep with him?"
He was completely overwhelming you with the sudden barrage of questions. You shook your head quickly, cutting him off before he could say anything else. "Hoseok, no. I don't owe him money, and I'm fine. Yoongi and I are acquaintances, just like I told you last time. That's all."
He furrowed his eyebrows deeply. "That's all? Y/n, you're a sweet girl. I've lived across the hall from you long enough to know that. Why would you ever get into the mix with the likes of him? Do you know who he is? What he does? What he's done to people? Yoongi is dangerous."
"And you know that firsthand, don't you?" you snapped.
Hoseok froze.
"Yeah, I know you used to work for Yoongi. He told me," you continued, crossing your arms. "I also know you two were friends."
Hoseok clenched his jaw, the silence stretching tight between you. "Yeah, we were. Me, Yoongi, and Joon. We grew up together, started this shit together. But Yoongi got dark. Got money hungry. Wanted to be something more powerful. Now he's a monster... maybe he'd always been a monster deep down." Hoseok's voice trailed off, his eyes clouding over as his mind reminisced about a past he had tried so hard to leave behind. About the friend he once had.
"You said you grew up with Joon too," you countered. "He's shown me he's more of a monster than Yoongi, yet you hold more disdain for Yoongi. Why?" When you had first met Joon, he was ready to attack an old couple just for a restaurant table, and then he had turned on you for standing up to him.
Hoseok scoffed. "Because I expected this from Joon. Maybe not to this extent, but Joon was always troubled. He only started hanging out with us after Yoongi met him in juvie. And Yoongi didn't truly start getting into trouble until his parents died. He was a little shit back then, sure, but definitely not the cold hearted monster he is now."
You remembered the raven mentioning his parents to you. How they had died in a house fire after his drunk of a father left a stove burning.
You sighed. None of this truly answered why Hoseok was so fearful of Yoongi now. They had started their empire together, so Hoseok clearly hadn't had any qualms about the lifestyle back then. Why the sudden change? Curiosity burned in your chest, and you opened your mouth to ask, but before you could, your phone started to ring from the other room.
You rushed to your bedroom, snatching the device off the bed. It was Yoongi. "Is that him?" Hoseok called out from the living room. Ignoring his question, you swiped the screen and brought the phone to your ear. "Hello?"
"I'm outside. Come down, and don't take too long," the raven demanded, his tone clipped. He hung up before you could even draw a breath to reply. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, pulling the phone away from your ear. "Listen, Hoseok, I can't sit here and talk about this right now. I have to go," you said, grabbing your purse off the nightstand.
"That was him, wasn't it?" he asked again, stepping toward your bedroom doorway. You offered no answer. "Look, I know I'm just your neighbor, and I can't tell you what to do, but I don't think you should keep hanging around him."
You shook your head, completely unready to process his warnings right now, but he remained persistent.
"Why do you care so much about what I do?" you retorted, eyeing the brunet. "Why do you care if I hang out with Yoongi?"
"Because you remind me of her."
You furrowed your eyebrows. "Of her? Who's her?" Hoseok's eyes began to water, a raw pain breaking through his serious facade. "The only woman I've ever loved. She's gone... because of him. He took her just to get back at me, and he got away with it."
"What? What do you mean?"
Before Hoseok could answer, your phone buzzed violently in your hand. It was a text from Yoongi, undoubtedly urging you to hurry the hell up. "I have to go." You muttered, deliberately putting the terrifying conversation aside. You walked out to the entryway and opened your apartment door, gesturing for Hoseok to leave first.
He exited into the dimly lit corridor, but he didn't head toward his own apartment. Instead, he stood out in the hallway, his sorrowful eyes heavy upon you as you locked your door. He stared at you like this was going to be his last time seeing you. “Later, Hoseok.” You say, quickly disappearing down your hall.
The cool outside breeze brushed against your bare skin the moment you stepped out of the building. You immediately recognized Yoongi's old car parked at the curb instead of the sleek red one you two had ridden to the fair in. Walking around the hood, you opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat.
"Took you long enough," the raven grumbled, not even looking at you as he shifted into drive. "I don't have the patience to be kept waiting."
You grimaced at his sour attitude. The absolute nerve of him to complain about a few minutes when he had just kept you waiting for a full hour. You pulled your seatbelt across your chest and buckled it in, and the car instantly surged forward into the night. Silently, you side eyed him, taking in his outfit. He wore a simple black hoodie with dark jeans, a chain clipped to his belt loops. He was a man who clearly adored his silver; another chain hung around his neck, and a couple of silver rings on his fingers. His long, dark hair was artfully messy, framing his face.
You had been expecting the raven to compliment your dress, as he usually never missed an opportunity to praise your appearance, but he stayed entirely silent, keeping his eyes glued to the dark road. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. It was weird not hearing Yoongi speak to you. Usually, you were the one giving him the silent treatment. Clearly, he was in a mood, so you opted against mentioning a single word of what Hoseok had just told you. Though curiosity was burning a hole in your chest, you didn’t want to piss him off any further.
Still, you decided to break the silence anyway, completely detesting the suffocating quiet inside the car. “What were you up to that took you so long?” you asked.
He looked over at you, a single sharp eyebrow raised, before turning right back toward the road without offering a word.
“Okay, don’t tell me then,” you huffed. You crossed your arms, turning your back to him to stare out the passenger window. Usually, the raven would have finally broken down and said something sarcastic by now, but instead, he simply reached forward and flicked on the radio.
You whipped your head around in total shock.
“Okay,” you started, your hand immediately darting out to slap the radio knob off. “What's your deal right now? You invited me to this stupid kickback, but now you’re acting like you wish I weren’t even here. I blew off a movie night with Jungkook to come out for you, but if you’re gonna be an asshole, then just take me home.”
Yoongi finally looked over at you, his sharp gaze cutting through the dim light of the car. “You blew off your little boyfriend to be with me?”
You nodded, suddenly finding your fingernails incredibly interesting. "I mean, you asked me first. I didn't want to blow you off after saying I'd come."
Yoongi smirked slightly, nodding his head as he looked back at the road. It was as if your words were a sort of confirmation for him. Suddenly, the atmosphere inside the car didn't feel so suffocating anymore. "You look good in that dress." The raven said.
You bit your bottom lip, turning away slightly in a desperate attempt to hide your smile.
The car pulled up to the warehouse that you'd come to know so well since getting involved with Yoongi. You noticed that, unlike last time, there weren't any people hanging out outside. No girls dressed in little to no clothing. No one smoking by the entrance. It was noticeably different from the last time.
"Am I gonna go upstairs and see a bunch of people in there?" you asked the raven, peeking out the window.
He snickered, turning off the ignition. "It's just Joon, some of my guys, and whatever bitches they brought. Just like I told you yesterday. Don't worry, sweetheart. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.” He assures you, leaning back in his seat.
"I wish you wouldn't call women 'bitches," you said, a look of dismay crossing your features.
"My apologies, princess. I'll rephrase that; whatever whores they brought." The raven smirked, leaning across the console to catch your eye. "That better for you?"
You rolled your eyes, pushing your door open to climb out into the cool night air. Yoongi follows suit. The two of you walk up the stairs to the metal door, your mind flashing to when Yoongi had pushed you against it to give you a speech about how you speak to him. He pulls open the door, letting you walk ahead. You hear laughter and music as you walk up the stairs, and the smell of weed wafts your senses. As you reach the main room, you’re amazed by how much different it looks without the load of people blocking every which way.
"Wonder Woman, you came through again!" Joon shouted, raising a solo cup high in his hand.
He was sitting amongst the two guys you recognized from last time, along with two others you hadn't seen before. Each of them had a girl sitting either on their lap or squeezed next to them on the couch. You noticed Sana sitting among the group, though she didn't appear to be there with any specific guy. Her sharp eyes locked onto you the exact moment you walked in with Yoongi.
‘Oh great, she's here…’ you thought dreadfully. This was going to be an absolute blast.
Yoongi walked toward an empty space on the couch, dropping down and patting the cushion right next to him. You sat down beside him, deliberately avoiding Sana's gaze as she continued to stare you down. "Here, have a sip." Joon passed you his cup.
You took it, looking down at the clear alcoholic beverage sloshing inside. "What's this?" you asked him.
"It's tequila."
"Yeah, your favorite. Remember?" Sana asked from across the room, her voice dripping with mock sweetness as she clearly referenced the night you had gotten drunk and danced right here in this very room.
You eyed the bitter woman, refusing to let her get under your skin. Without a word, you tipped your head back and downed the drink. The harsh liquor burned the back of your throat as it went down, but you didn't let your expression falter.
Joon hooted loudly, cheering your compliance as you handed him back the empty cup. "Oh, Y/n, you're my kind of woman, doll," Joon laughed.
"Yeah, she surely is somethin", the raven said, resting his arm along the back of the couch behind you. You noticed them passing a blunt around the circle. Once Joon took a couple of hits, he offered it directly to you. You shook your head quickly, gesturing for him to pass it to Yoongi instead.
"Oh, c’mon, it's just weed," Joon insisted, still holding it out. “It ain’t gonna kill you.”
"That's fine. I've just never smoked it before," you said awkwardly, suddenly feeling like a complete amateur sitting in a room full of seasoned drug dealers and users.
"Of course you haven't. You're too much of a goody-goody," Sana remarked. The other girls cracked up, making a sudden wave of heat creep up your neck.
"Nothing wrong with being a good girl. A lot of us men admire that," Yoongi smirked, stepping in as he took the blunt from Joon's fingers. "Leaves room for corruption."
"I'm just scared of how it'll make me feel, that’s all." You admitted softly.
"It's like alcohol, but a different type of intoxication. Here, I'll help you." The raven shifted his weight, leaning in close as he took a long drag. Holding the smoke trapped in his lungs, he gestured with his free hand for you to move closer. You hesitated for a heartbeat, your breath catching, before leaning forward slowly. Yoongi stopped when he was mere inches away from your face, his dark gaze locking onto your mouth before he began to exhale the smoke, breathing it out little by little. Though you were skeptical, you leaned in the final inch, inhaling the gray smoke as it retreated past his lips.
A harsh cough ripped from your throat the second the smoke hit the back of your sensitive lungs. Yoongi moved back just a fraction, a lazy, satisfied grin spreading across his face as he took in your reaction. "See?" he smirked, his voice dropping an octave. "Corrupting you already."
You stared at the raven, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. The two of you locked eyes, completely forgetting that there was an entire group of people watching your every move.
"Alright, alright, get a room already," Joon teased, breaking the spell you were in.
Yoongi kept his eyes firmly on you, entirely unfazed by the audience. "I wouldn't mind getting a room," he said, slowly running his tongue over his bottom lip. You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling the raven's free hand begin to roam up your exposed thigh.
You quickly stood to your feet, breaking the contact before he could go any further. "Um, I think I could use another drink. I'm assuming the bottle is in the kitchen?" you asked, pointing toward the doorway and letting out an awkward, nervous laugh.
Yoongi simply nodded, his grin turning cocky at your sudden fluster, clearly overjoyed at being the sole cause of it. You quickly shuffled away and escaped into the kitchen, feeling the anxious tightness in your chest finally begin to disperse the moment you were separated from the heavy atmosphere of the group.
Once your heartbeat finally settled, you grabbed an empty solo cup from the counter. Your eyes scanned the kitchen, landing on a bottle of Don Julio. You grabbed it, pulling the cork out with a sharp pop.
"You and Yoongi look super cozy together." The sudden voice startled you. You turned around to see Sana standing in the entryway, her arms crossed tight over her chest.
"So?" you said, turning your back to her again to pour the tequila into your cup.
"So, I thought you were very adamant about not being into him. Remember?"
You whipped back around to face her. "I'm not," you snapped, your tone sharp. "He just invited me, so I came. That's it."
It was a bold faced lie; anyone in that room could feel the electric tension between you and the raven. You tried your best to hide it, but then he went and pulled stunts like he just did on the couch, and all your defenses came crashing down. You were attracted to Yoongi. That was a fact you could no longer deny to yourself. But deep down, you knew nothing could ever come of it. You were with Jungkook.
You just hated that you had to keep reminding yourself of that.
“You can say whatever you want, convince yourself of whatever you need, but you can’t convince me,” Sana snarled, her voice dropping to a harsh, mocking tone. “I mean, I don’t blame you. He’s Min Yoongi. Out of all those guys sitting out there, he has a presence that no woman can resist. Clearly not even you, Miss Goody-Goody. I honestly can’t wait to say I told you so.”
With one last judgmental look, she turned on her heel and swept out of the entryway, leaving you completely alone in the quiet kitchen. You quickly downed the burning liquid in your cup, letting it sear your throat as you emptied every last drop before immediately pouring yourself another one. Just as the liquor splashed into the bottom of the solo cup, you heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind. You turned slightly, watching the raven slide effortlessly into the kitchen.
"Slow down there, lightweight," he teased, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in the sight of the bottle in your hand. "I don't need you blacking out here."
You glared at him, throwing back the second drink before slamming the cup down onto the counter. "I'm ready to leave."
"What?" The raven raised an eyebrow, his lazy grin instantly vanishing. "We just got here," he stated, pointing out the obvious.
"Yeah, well, I'm not feeling quite like a people person tonight," you muttered, your mind in a million different places. First, there was Jungkook saying he loved you. Then, Hoseok's chilling warning. And now Sana with her crazy jealousy, clearly nowhere near over her past with Yoongi. It was all too much. You’d rather just have been alone to process everything, but Yoongi remained persistent about you staying.
“You don’t have to be. It won’t be too long before the guys dip out to get their nut off,” the raven said, his slow grin returning. He stepped a fraction closer to you, tilting his head to catch your eyes. “Then it’ll just be me and you… unless I’m included in your desire to not be around people right now?”
Naturally, you didn’t mind being around just Yoongi. He was the sole reason you had even come in the first place. But there was always a stubborn moral compass ringing inside your head, reminding you that any feelings you harbored toward the raven were wrong; a complete betrayal not only to Jungkook, but to Mina, too.
Yoongi literally sold coke to Mina's boyfriend, ruthlessly using him as one of his drug mules. Not to mention the terrifying reality that Yoongi had probably killed people, whether indirectly or by his own hands. Though, you weren't entirely sure how true that part actually was. A drug dealer? That fact was completely undeniable. But a killer? Could Yoongi truly be capable of murder? The man you had seen at the fair, the one who had looked at you with soft eyes, and shared a deep moment with you, couldn't possibly be a monster.
“Well, what about Sana?” you asked suddenly.
Yoongi raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes narrowing slightly at the random mention of Sana. “What the fuck about her?”
"She's here. Why don't you just have her keep you company?" you scowled, turning back around to pour another drink. But before you could even pop the cork out, Yoongi snatched the bottle completely out of your hand. He didn't say a word at first, his eyes locking onto yours as he deliberately set the bottle down on the counter behind him, clearing the distraction out of the way.
“Is that where this little attitude is coming from? Sana? I thought I told you I only fucked her once.”
"I don't care how many times you did. It's none of my business," you lied, keeping your voice tight as you tried to save face. "I just thought I'd make it clear that you have other options and don't need me here."
The raven stared at you for a moment.
"When are you gonna stop pretending there's nothing here and just give in to me?" Yoongi asked, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur as he took another step toward you. You instinctively tried to back away from him, but the hard edge of the counter pressed against your lower back, leaving you with absolutely no space left to move.
"B-because there isn't.." you stuttered, the denial tasting like ash on your tongue.
Yoongi closed the remaining distance between you two, his hands coming down to rest on the counter on either side of your hips. You were completely sandwiched between the raven and the cold marble surface. Your heart thumped frantically against your ribs as he began to lean down toward your lips, his gaze dropping to your mouth. "There isn't?" he questioned, his breath fanning across your skin.
"Yo, Honcho–" Joon’s voice cut through the air as he popped his head through the entryway of the kitchen. He froze for a fraction of a second, taking in the sight of the two of you trapped in each other's space, before the corner of his lips pulled into a knowing smirk. “I always seem to pop in on you two at the craziest times,” he teased.
"What is it, Joon?" Yoongi's voice was rough, dripping with irritation at his second in command as he turned his head slightly to look at him, though his hands never left the counter, keeping you securely pinned.
"Me and the guys are gonna dip and handle our due diligence," Joon said, flashing a quick wink. It didn't take a scientist to figure out what he meant. It was exactly what Yoongi had predicted just minutes ago; they were heading out to get their nut off.
Yoongi nodded, but his full, dark attention immediately snapped back to you. "Is Sana still here?" he asked Joon, his eyes tracking the way your chest rose and fell.
"Yeah, she is. Why, what's up?"
"Send the bitch on her way," Yoongi said coldly.
"Say less," Joon complied, stepping backward out of the kitchen and leaving you and the raven completely alone once again.
You could hear his retreating footsteps heading back to the living room, followed shortly by the distant, muffled sound of him telling Sana it was time to go. "There. Problem solved, sweetheart," Yoongi said, finally taking a single step back from you, though his dark gaze never wavered. The raven reached over and grabbed the bottle of Don Julio, shaking it slightly in the air as a lazy smirk crept back onto his face. "Now it's just you and me. So, how about we drink and have a kickback of our own?"
"Then I tried to hop over the fence and my shirt got caught," Yoongi smirked, tucking a stray strand of his dark hair behind his ear as he recounted the first time he went to juvie.
The two of you were easily ten shots in by now, having moved the bottle from the kitchen to the living room couch. You were completely enveloped in a rare state of security. You sat comfortably against the cushions with your shoes discarded on the floor, your legs curled up tightly under you. Yoongi sat close beside you, leaning forward over his knees as he flicked a lighter to life, igniting another blunt.
You giggled at the raven's story, shaking your head. "Why didn't you just try to slip the shirt off?" you asked him.
"I was running for like thirty minutes trying to get away. At that point, I was too tired. I just said fuck it, take me," he chuckled. He shoved the lighter back into his sweatshirt pocket before taking a few deep puffs of the blunt, the tip glowing a dull orange in the dim room. "Anyway, shit happens for a reason. I wouldn't have met Joon if I didn't get caught that day."
Hearing him say it out loud made a piece of the puzzle click. You silently recalled Hoseok mentioning earlier that night that Yoongi and Joon had first crossed paths in juvie. You wanted to bring up Hoseok's crazy ramblings to Yoongi, but you decided it was best not to. Not now, at least. Not when the vibe between you was so perfectly calm and natural.
Yoongi looked over at you, extending his hand with the blunt pinched tightly between his index finger and thumb. "You wanna hit this?" he asked. You looked down at the brown wrap. You hesitated for a split second, but ultimately took the blunt from his fingers, your skin brushing against his.
Putting it to your lips, you took a few light, careful puffs, still too afraid to take massive hits the way Yoongi did. The raven smiled, his dark eyes watching you intensely, as if he expected you to choke if he wasn't being vigilant. "Thatta girl, princess. Shotgunned off of me once and now I got you smoking like a pro," he said proudly, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. You exhaled the smoke, then handed the blunt back to the raven.
"Don't get used to me doing that. I'm just enjoying the moment," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
Yoongi shrugged, taking another slow hit from the blunt. "I'm proud either way, angel," he said.
You stiffened slightly at the nickname. You had never heard Yoongi call you that before. It was a term of endearment that belonged entirely to Jungkook. He used it all the time. Suddenly, your mind was flooded with the memory of Jungkook slipping up and saying he loved you at work earlier today, and a crushing wave of guilt washed over your chest. Here you were, hiding away and getting high with Yoongi, while Jungkook mindlessly believed you were just hanging out with Mina right now.
Yoongi's sharp eyes immediately noticed the shift, catching the exact moment you zoned out and went miles away. "You good?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied your face. You debated on whether or not you should tell him what Jungkook had said today. Would he even care?
"Um... Jungkook said he loved me today." You looked over at the raven, your eyes searching his face to read his expression.
Yoongi ran his fingers through his dark hair, nodding his head slowly as if absorbing the news without letting it shake him. "And then what?" he asked, his voice steady as he waited for you to continue further.
"And then... nothing," you shrugged, the weight of the confession making your shoulders feel heavy. "I said nothing when he said it. I feel so horrible." You sighed, rubbing your hands over your face to shield yourself from the quiet of the room. You cared about Jungkook deeply; you had been best friends for years, and you had harbored feelings for him long before the two of you finally decided to date and test the waters. But these past few days, everything has felt entirely off between you two.
You felt... bored.
"You don't love him," Yoongi stated, his voice flat and certain, as if he personally knew your own feelings and heart better than you did.
You furrowed your eyebrows at him, your chest tightening defensively. "What?"
"You don't love him," he casually repeated. He reached over to grab an empty Solo cup from the coffee table, dropping the butt of the blunt inside.
"And how the hell would you know how I feel?" you shot back, trying to summon enough anger to mask the panic rising in your throat.
"Because you're here with me," Yoongi said, leaning back against the cushions and pinning you with an intense look. "You turned down a movie night with him to spend time with me. That alone should tell you something."
You opened your mouth to defend your actions, but the words died in your throat. You couldn't. You were here with Yoongi, and the bitter, undeniable truth was that you didn't regret the decision at all.
You were genuinely enjoying these casual conversations with him. Ever since the Daegu fair, the raven had become entirely humanized in your eyes. Even though he sold drugs and carried a dangerous, mean streak to his name, you liked him.
You liked Yoongi.
The silence in the living room stretched between you, heavy and thick with the smell of smoke, as his words settled deep into your chest. Yoongi just tracked the movement of your lips, waiting, knowing he had trapped you in a corner where lies couldn't save you. So you didn’t attempt it.
You casually looked around, admiring the decor of the warehouse and searching for absolutely anything to change the suffocating topic. Your eyes landed on an all black acoustic guitar hanging neatly on the wall right next to the loft stairs. "That's a cool guitar," you said, motioning toward it.
Yoongi pulled his gaze away from you, tracking your movement until his eyes landed on the instrument. "That's my baby right there. My mom bought it for me when I was twelve," he said, a genuine, soft smile tugging at his lips at the memory of his mother.
"You play?" you questioned, a little surprised. "I thought it was just for decoration."
"Don't insult me, sweetheart. I don't do things just for the look," he rumbled playfully. He stood up from the cushions, walking over to retrieve the guitar from its mount before coming back to sit down on the couch right beside you. Yoongi began to tune the guitar, his long fingers adjusting the pegs with practiced ease. You were completely surprised he could even function with all the alcohol and weed running through his system, but the substances didn't seem to phase him even a little bit.
The raven strummed the strings to see if the tune was to his liking, the chords ringing out deep and crisp into the high ceilings of the warehouse. Then, his fingers shifted, and he began to play.
You watched him intently. He looked completely relaxed, his dark eyes focused on the fretboard as he plucked out an all too familiar melody—one that immediately made your chest tighten and your heart feel incredibly massive.
Knocking on Heaven's Door by Bob Dylan.
That was your dad's favorite song.
You hadn't heard the song in so long, having avoided it at all costs ever since your parents died. Yet, here Yoongi was playing it, handling the notes as though he could read your heart like an open book. The raven looked up at you, his fingers never missing a single strum despite his eyes locking onto yours. You felt a single tear escape and slip down your cheek. A quiet movement that didn't go unnoticed by him.
Yoongi immediately stopped playing, flattening his palm over the strings to kill the vibration. "You okay? I didn't mean to make you emotional," he murmured, his voice dropping into something genuinely gentle.
You shook your head, sniffing softly as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. "No, you're fine. It's just... that song you played. It reminded me of my dad, that's all. That was his favorite song," you informed him, your voice cracking slightly on the words.
A wave of sympathy softened his sharp features. He carefully set the black guitar down onto the floor, completely discarding it to move closer to you on the cushions. Reaching out, the raven gently brushed the pad of his thumb against your cheek, wiping away the stray tear. “You’re too pretty to cry,” he whispered, his thumb lingering against your skin.
Min Yoongi.
When you first met him, those eyes made you shiver. They were scary, cold, and lifeless; the devil's eyes.
Now, those exact same eyes were looking at you like you were something so precious, something so breakable that he wanted to protect you from any further damage.
The raven's lips inched closer to yours. You followed suit, your breath hitching as your eyes fluttered closed, waiting to finally feel the soft pressure of his lips against yours. When his lips finally do meet yours, it wasn’t the harsh, reckless collision you might have expected from someone like Yoongi. It was soft, slow, and desperately tender. A quiet reassurance that sent a tingle straight down your spine. The faint taste of tequila and smoke lingered between you, blurring the edges of the room until nothing else existed but the warmth of his mouth against yours.
Yoongi’s hand slid from your cheek, his long fingers gently gripping the back of your neck to hold you steady, deepening the kiss with a low, heavy breath. You melted into him, your hands finding themselves on the soft fabric of his sweatshirt as you pulled yourself closer.
Every ounce of guilt, every lingering warning from Hoseok, and the ghost of Jungkook’s confession from earlier today were entirely washed away in the dark, quiet haze of the warehouse.
You found yourself slowly being pushed backward onto the plush cushions of the couch, the fabric of your dress riding up your thighs as Yoongi settled his body over yours, positioning himself flush between your legs.
Yoongi didn't break the kiss for a single second. Instead, his mouth grew hungrier, more possessive, tracing the seam of your lips as his hands left your neck to slide down to your waist, his grip firm and steady as he anchored you to the cushions beneath him. The contrast of his heavy frame pinning you down while treating you like something entirely precious made your breath hitch against his lips, your fingers tightening into the fabric of his sweatshirt to pull him even closer.
The sudden loss of his warmth made you gasp softly as Yoongi pulled his lips away from yours. He remained settled heavily between your legs, his dark eyes locked onto you as he crossed his arms and pulled his sweatshirt over his head in one fluid motion. The silver chain around his neck clanked in the quiet room before settling against his collarbone.
He tossed the discarded sweatshirt onto the floor, leaving him in just a plain white tee. Yoongi paused for a second, his chest rising and falling with hefty breaths as he used a hand to push his messy dark locks back out of his face. The intense, protective gaze was still burning in his eyes, but now it was laced with an undeniable hunger. Leaning back forward, he closed the distance between you once again, crashing his lips back onto yours with a newfound fervor that completely stole the air from your lungs.
The raven rolled his hips against you, the sudden, friction filled pressure making a soft whimper escape your lips. His large hands held your waist securely to the cushions before he pulled his lips away once more, all the while still grinding slowly against you.
"I promise to be gentle with you if you let me," he whispered, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. His hands slid up your sides, the rough texture of his palms catching against the fabric as he began to lift your dress further. A sudden wave of nerves crashed over you at the thought, making your chest tighten. You wanted him. You desperately wanted this, but the guilt was a massive wall standing right in the way.
You had always assumed you would lose your virginity to Jungkook. It was supposed to be safe, familiar, and organically planned. But Jungkook wasn't here.
Yoongi was.
He was right here, hovering over you with a patient hunger, waiting for the words that would change everything between you two.
"Y-Yoongi, we can't. I'm with Jungko-"
The raven clamped a hand over your mouth, stopping you from finishing his name. "I don't wanna hear his fucking name right now," he growled. His hips were still grinding into you, but his pace picked up, the sudden intensity making your breath hitch beneath his palm.
The consistent, heavy motion made your panties rub against your clit, sending a tingle straight down your spine. Yoongi slowly pulled his hand away from your lips, his dark eyes burning down into yours with an absolute, possessive gravity. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll stop," he said, his voice a low command.
You didn't offer the raven any words, just a breathless moan that tore from your throat. A sound that was absolute music to his ears. He smirked down at how needy you looked underneath him, his ego flaring at his total control over you. How could you possibly pretend to not want this when you were coming apart already, and he hadn't even been inside of you yet?
"From the looks of it, you're so deprived that all it’Il take right now is dry fucking for you to cum," he rasped, his voice dropping into a dark, filthy purr that made your stomach completely flip. You couldn't deny it; this simple action really could be enough to cause an orgasm, but deep down, you wanted to go the extra mile with him. "Do it," you whined, your hips blindly tracking his movement as you completely lost your grip on your restraint. "J-Just do it."
That was all Yoongi needed to hear. He stopped grinding into you, pulling back to undo his jeans. He didn't take them fully off, opting instead to pull them down just enough for his hard cock to spring free from his Celine boxers. Your eyes widened slightly, and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you took in the full size and length of him. He was much bigger than you had expected him to be; it was no wonder Sana had a hard time getting over him after their one night stand.
The raven hooked his fingers into the hem of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them onto the floor right next to his sweatshirt. Your dress was still bunched up around your waist, leaving you completely exposed beneath him now. You instinctively tried to close your legs to hide yourself, but with his weight still settled right between your thighs, you couldn't move.
The raven smirked down at your failed attempt to hide, his thighs easily pulling yours further apart, refusing to let you close yourself off. But as he looked down, tracking the panicked rise and fall of your chest and the way you squeezed your eyes shut tight, the smug look vanished. Seeing how scared you were dragged him back to reality, reminding him exactly what this was for you.
Your first time.
The thought alone sent a possessive rush in his veins. You weren’t like the other women he had fucked, then passed around to his crew. You were pure. Untouched. Untainted. Your walls had never been broken, and knowing he was the very first to claim you made him want to lose all control, to pin you down and slam his dick straight into you. But he fought the urge back. He was willing to take this slow. He was willing to be gentle, just like he promised. He wasn't going to force his way in. Not yet.
"Relax for me," he murmured, his voice dropping into a low purr. Bypassing his cock for now, Yoongi reached down, his long fingers finding your slick, dripping heat. He pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, making you gasp, before he slowly slid a single finger inside of you.
The feeling of his hot skin sliding into you sent an intense, unravelling ache straight to your core. Your inner walls clenched down around him, instantly tight and resistant to the sudden intrusion. Yoongi hissed softly at the brutal friction, the muscle in his jaw feathering as he held himself still. He didn't pull back; instead, he kept his finger buried deep inside you to let your body adapt, while the pad of his thumb began working in small, agonizingly slow circles to coax you open.
A mixture of pain and pleasure flooded your senses. You had never actually inserted anything inside of yourself before, only ever rubbing your clit when you were alone and horny, so this deep, stretching was completely overwhelming. The intensity of the feeling made it impossible to listen to his voice, let alone try to relax.
"Look at me," Yoongi growled, his voice dropping into a rough command as he noticed your breathing hitch. He pressed his thumb a little firmer against your clit, trying to ground you through the sensory overload. "I know it hurts a little, but you need to breathe for me. Let it slip in and out."
Your eyes flutter open upon his command as you try to breathe as told. Slowly, he began to curl his finger inside you, testing your limits and forcing your tight depths to widen for him. The sudden internal hook against your walls completely shattered your concentration, dragging a high, helpless whine from your throat. Your back arched slightly off the couch cushions, your hands clawing blindly into the fabric beside your head as your muscles instinctively clamped down once more around his finger.
Yoongi hissed again through his teeth, his knuckles turning white where his hand rested against the armrest behind your head. The crushing grip of your body around his finger was testing the absolute limits of his control, but he didn't back off. Instead, his gaze darkened with a relentless dominance. "I told you to breathe," he rasped, his voice dropping an octave, rough and completely devoid of room for negotiation.
He leaned more of his weight over you, his lean frame crowding you down and effectively trapping you flat against the cushions. His free hand moved from the armrest to slide up the side of your neck, his thumb bracing firmly under your jaw to tilt your face up. He didn't hurt you, but the grip was ironclad, forcing your eyes right back to his.
With you completely pinned beneath him, the pad of his thumb pressed down hard against your swollen clit, no longer stroking in gentle circles, but applying a heavy, flattening pressure that sent a sudden ache straight through your pelvis. He held it there, demanding your total submission.
"Stop fighting it," he commanded, his eyes burning into yours as he tilted his finger a fraction deeper against your tight walls. "If you can’t take one finger, how’re you supposed to take this dick, huh?” His grip tightens slightly on the side of your neck. “Huh?” he repeated, demanding your answer.
“I-I’m sorry…” you stammered, embarrassment flooding your chest as the weight of his standards settled heavily over you.
Yoongi shook his head at your apology. “Don’t apologize to me, babygirl. Just take it.”
The pet name hits you like a physical shock, melting through the sharp sting of the entrance and sending a completely different kind of heat pooling between your thighs. Hearing him call you that while his frame pinned you to the couch cushions made your heart hammer against your chest. Your fingers twitched against the fabric beside your head, your body instinctively wanting to soften under the sudden warmth of his praise, even as the fullness of his finger remained buried deep inside you, awaiting your compliance.
Your breathing finally began to stutter out in a long, trembling exhale, your chest sinking as you forced yourself to yield to his command. The tense, defensive coil in your hips slowly dissolved into the cushions, allowing the walls of your core to soften and untangle around his finger.
Yoongi watched the change happen in real time, his eyes tracking the exact moment the panic left your expression and your body opened up for him. A low, approving rumble vibrated deep in his chest as the tight friction around his hand gave way to an accommodating heat. "Good girl." he murmured, his voice dropping a quiet praise that made your stomach flutter.
The raven didn't hesitate. Seizing the moment your body relaxed, he slid his thumb out from under your jaw and used his free hand to firmly spread your legs a little wider, anchoring you in place. With a smooth shift of his knuckles, he aligned a second finger against your opening and pushed it straight inside, pairing it alongside the first before immediately driving them deep.
The sudden, thick invasion turned into a heavy, rhythmic thrusting that completely took your breath away. He set a demanding pace right from the start, his wrist moving with practiced precision as his fingers slid all the way in and pulled back just enough to drive right back into your heat. A choked gasp caught in your throat as the friction of two fingers moving deep inside of you stretched your newly softened depths to their absolute limit, the steady, relentless tempo turning the initial ache into an overwhelming fullness.
“Oh fuck–” you cried, your hand mindlessly reaching out to try to grab at his wrist to stop him, but Yoongi smacked it away before you could.
“Don’t touch me,” he growled, the sharp reprimand cutting right through your haze as his fingers kept up their relentless rhythm inside you. Your hand dropped back onto the cushion, your fingers twitching helplessly against the fabric as the pace he was driving into you completely shattered your defenses. Yoongi didn't look down; his dark eyes stayed locked on your face, watching the way your lips parted and your chest heaved with every deep, sliding stroke of his hand.
The slick stretch of two fingers moving in such a demanding, unbothered tempo was turning your embarrassment into a pure, frantic need. He was stretching you out completely, filling you so thoroughly that every push of his wrist sent a hot wave of pressure straight through your hips, forcing you to take every bit of the pace he set.
The relentless, deep pace he was driving into you was rapidly breaking your body down, forcing a thick moisture to coat his skin. Within moments, the fullness of his two fingers began to pump your arousal out, the glossy wetness overflowing your tight opening until it completely drenched his fingers and smeared across the back of his hand.
Yoongi let out a low, gritty sound at the wet squelch of his movements echoing in the quiet room as his knuckles repeatedly pressed against your drenched entrance. The messy, excessive warmth of your own body coating his hand only seemed to make him get rougher, using your own lubrication to drive his fingers even deeper, thoroughly stretching you out until you were dripping against his skin with every single stroke.
The raven’s dark eyes narrowed as he tracked the erratic shudder of your chest, his fingers still ruthlessly working inside you to draw out every drop of your wetness. The sight of you completely undone, trembling on the verge of a breakdown, stripped away the last of his patience.
He abruptly stopped the rhythm, leaving his fingers buried deep and perfectly still inside your swollen depths. The sudden lack of movement was an absolute tease, leaving you stranded on the very edge of a cliff.
He leaned down until his lips brushed the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he forced his weight heavily over you.“Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he demanded, his voice a deep command that left no room for hesitation. “Say it.”
A high, dire whine broke from your throat at the sudden agonizing stillness, your hips instinctively jerking upward in a silent, pathetic plea for him to keep moving. The tease was unbearable; your body was wound so incredibly tight, practically begging for the release he was intentionally withholding from you.
Yoongi didn't budge an inch. He simply let out a dark, amused huff against your ear, his fingers remained buried like lead inside your dripping pussy. "I didn't ask for a whine," he rasped, his thumb pressing firmly against your jawline to tilt your head back just enough to look at him. "I asked for words. Tell me you want me to fuck you." He repeated the command.
“I–I… I want you fuck me.” You stutter out.
"Good girl," he growled the praise against your ear as he finally withdrew his fingers from your drenched warmth.
The sudden emptiness left you cold for only a second before the weight of his front pressed completely over you, pinning you flat into the couch. He didn't waste another moment. His hand reached down between your bodies, guiding his throbbing cock directly against your swollen opening, smearing your own excess wetness along the head.
He didn't ease into it. With one fluid, commanding thrust of his hips, Yoongi buried himself all the way inside of you, driving deep until his pelvis smacked hard against yours.
Your breath cut off completely, a choked scream tearing from your throat as your fingers clawed desperately into the fabric of his shirt. Your gaze, already locked wide onto his, turned instantly glassy as his sheer thickness stretched you open to an impossible limit, filling you so completely it made your head spin.
“Fuck—” The raven grunted, his upper body hovering over you as he went completely rigid, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
He stayed entirely still, his muscles locked as he forced himself to hold back and let your body adjust to his size. The utter stretch of him filling you to the absolute brim made your hips tremble against the cushions, your breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches beneath his heavy frame.
Every muscle in his back was corded with strain, his pulse hammering heavily where his chest pressed against yours. He took a slow, deep breath, waiting out the initial shock of the fit, though the tight, desperate clench of your walls around his cock was clearly pushing his self control over the edge.
The moment the clenching of your walls finally eased into a welcoming squeeze, Yoongi let out a satisfied groan. He didn't give you a second to recover. Pulling back just enough to catch his leverage, he drove his hips forward, initiating a hard, deliberate rhythm that completely altered the gravity of the room. The slow, punishing depth of his first few strokes was consuming; he slid almost entirely out before sinking all the way back in, bottoming out against you with a wet, heavy thud that rattled the breath right out of your lungs.
He growled, his hands locking firmly on your hips to keep you pinned into the cushions as his pace began to quicken. "Fuck, your pussy feels so good. Just like I imagined."
The steady, intense heat of his body against yours quickly became a relentless blur as his speed increased. The contact was rougher now, the coarse denim of his jeans and the fabric of his boxers scraping against your inner thighs with every aggressive plunge.
The sound of his skin and denim slapping against you echoed loud in the room, driving home the raw, bruising pace he was establishing. With every powerful thrust, his pelvis collided hard against your hips, the tight fullness stretching you so completely that a series of needy, high pitched moans broke from your throat. Because it was your first time, the sheer magnitude of the sensation was almost too much to process; every single movement sent a wave of sweet ache straight through your body, a deep tightness that was simultaneously agonizing and intoxicating as he broke you in.
Yoongi’s gaze never left your face, his eyes dark and entirely focused as he hovered over you. As his upper body leaned in closer to deepen the angle, the chain around his neck swung free. “God, you’re so pretty.” He breathed out. “The best pussy I’ve ever fucking had.”
“Y-Yoongi…” you moaned, your hands balling up the fabric of his shirt tightly. The raven flashed his gummy smile at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. It was something he could listen to over and over again.
“Fuck… say my name again.”
"Y-Yoongi..." you cried out again, your voice completely breaking as your eyes fluttered closed, your mind dissolving under the weight of pleasure, until the sudden sharp, stinging sensation of his fingers gently smacked your cheek, snapping your eyes back open.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice growing incredibly rough and strained as his pace became frantic. "I want you looking at me while I fuck you.” He panted, undoubtedly coming close to his end. You were close as well, feeling an intense feeling build up in your stomach.
"Look at how wet you are for me," he rasped, his dirty talk turning completely unfiltered as he felt the contractions of your walls tightening around him. He drove into you harder, faster. "You're taking every single inch of me."
Your vision blurred at the edges as that coiled heat in your stomach wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap. Every touch felt magnified a hundred times over because it was him, because it was your first time, and the vulnerability of being completely pinned beneath his weight had your mind spinning out of control.
Yoongi let out a low, breathless laugh, his hips stuttering as the deep squelch of your pussy and his thrusts echoed loudly. "Fuck, look what we did," he groaned, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction as he looked down at where your bodies met. "You completely soaked the couch underneath us, baby. You're dripping all over the cushions for me."
Hearing those words sent a heavy wave of heat straight to your face, a mix of intense shyness and absolute surrender that made you squeeze him even tighter.
"Y-Yoongi, I'm gonna..." you cried out, your fingers letting go of his shirt so you could wrap your arms securely around his neck, pulling him down against you. Your hips bucked up instinctively against his, completely consumed by the pressure. "I'm about to cum..."
His dark eyes flared with desperation, his pace turning completely frantic at your admission. Strands of his damp, raven hair fell completely into his face, clinging to his sweaty forehead and obscuring his vision, but he didn't even try to brush them away as he stared down at you through the dark fringe. He slid his arms beneath your back, wrapping them tightly around you and locking you in an embrace that left no space between your chests.
"Me too, baby, fuck, I'm right there with you," he panted out, his voice entirely undone.
He bottomed out hard, his chest heaving as he stared down at you with completely blown out eyes, caught instantly as the coiled tension in your stomach snapped. “Oh god, fuck!” You scream aloud. An explosive, blinding wave of release crashed through you, your walls clamping down on him in tight, frantic pulses.
"I wanna watch my cum dripping out of this tight little pussy when I'm done with you." Yoongi growled, his grip tightening around you as the muscles in his back locked up, your climax triggering his own.With a final, deep thrust, Yoongi threw his head back, his dark hair tossing wildly away from his face. A loud, guttural groan tore from his throat as he came heavily inside you, his entire frame shuddering violently within your embrace as he poured himself into your tightness, locking you both into the shared, breathless aftershocks of the peak.
The violent shuddering of his body slowly subsided, leaving only the sound of your shared, ragged breathing filling the quiet room. For a long moment, neither of you moved. Yoongi remained buried deep inside you, his heavy frame completely draped over yours, his face buried in the crook of your neck as his chest heaved against your breasts.
The tight grip of his arms around your back gradually softened, his hands now simply resting against the fabric of your dress, tracing comforting circles into your waist through the material. You could feel the rapid thumping of his heartbeat right against your ribs, slowly syncing up with your own.
With a low, exhausted grunt, Yoongi shifted his weight, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at you, careful not to crush you on the narrow cushions. Strands of his damp, raven hair were still stuck to his forehead, framing eyes that were dark, heavy lidded, and utterly soft. The intimidating intensity from moments before was completely gone, replaced by a quiet, protective warmth.
"You okay?" he murmured, his voice incredibly deep from the groans he’d just let out. He raised one hand, his thumb gently brushing against your skin, his touch entirely tender.
“Mhm..” You nod breathlessly, your body feeling liquefied, a pleasant ache settling deep into you.
A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked down at where your bodies were still joined beneath the bunched up layers of your dress. True to his word, as he slowly and carefully began to pull himself out of your slick cunt, a thick, white stream of his release mixed with your own, dripping out of you and pooling onto the already damp fabric of the couch cushions beneath your hips.
"Look at that," Yoongi whispered, a low rumble of dark satisfaction vibrating in his chest as he stared at the messy sight. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, tasting the salt of your skin. “You did so fucking good for your first time, baby." He praises you.
The raven collapsed back down onto you, shifting his legs so they tangled thoroughly with yours on the snug space of the couch. He tucked his face right back into your neck, wrapping his arms securely around your torso to anchor you against his chest. He didn't care about the state of his slid down jeans or the dampness of your dress; he just wanted to hold you against him as the adrenaline finally began to fade and he began to fall asleep.
Your mind was a chaotic tangle of thoughts you couldn't quite straighten out. The reality of what just happened was crashing down in waves. You had just lost your virginity. And it wasn't just to anyone; it was to Yoongi, the last person you ever expected to be in this position with.
But beneath that realization lay the heaviest weight of all; Jungkook.
The thought of his name sent a sharp, confusing pang straight through your chest. You had cheated. The word felt ugly, completely incompatible with the hazy, warm weight of Yoongi resting on top of you, yet it was undeniably there. Did you regret it? The alcohol and smoke clouded your brain too much to give you a straight answer. There was no clarity to be found right now, no easy wave of guilt or sudden rush of justification. There was no going back from this. No fixing it, no pretending it was a mistake born purely out of a messy night. The moment you had agreed to come to Yoongi’s warehouse, the trajectory of everything had shifted.
All you knew for certain, as you stared blankly into the dimly lit room with Yoongi’s heartbeat thumping steady against your ribs, was that everything was about to change.
But when he realised he liked you way more than what he prepared himself for
Oh then he was in trouble
So it took him a few eternities to gather up the courage to cross the "just friends" line
That's other thing I believe in
The friends to lovers trope is strong with this one alright
So the bad thing is that this is why it took him so damn long to accept his feelings and do something about it
Because he didn't wanna lose you and your friendship in case you didn't reciprocate
But it's also good
There's nothing better than dating your best friend after all
But moving forward to the actual dating stage
(because him gathering up the courage to shoot his shot was a whole odyssey)
Dating him isn't really about passion
Of course there's that
But the focus isn't on the fast heart beats and warmth spreading all over your being
It's about being safe, comfortable and understood
He's your rock and you are his safe place
So the relationship is very cozy and domestic
One of the things that didn't allow him to get close to you at first was his career
He didn't want to put all the spotlight and pressure on you
But now that he got you? He is not letting go
"but the fans won't like it-" too bad ig
"but the company didn't allow it" since when does he need to ask anything
"oh but-" no.
You can say whatever you'd like. He doesn't care, he didn't ask
You got crazy privileges tho
First to hear the music (and have some dedicated to you), free tickets, any merch you'd like
Just say the word and what you want shall be yours
But when it comes to him as a person, you are even more privileged
You're the only one he answers the phone to
You get to see the side of him that doesn't shut up and is full of jokes
Domesticity like folding laundry together, you drying his hair after he gets out of the shower and him making you breakfast when you just woke up tho it's almost lunch time
SO many inner jokes
Sometimes you both just look at each other and are already trying not to laugh
Will never admit it but he still gets a little nervous every time you see him perform
Even after so much time, he still wants to impress you
One thing he loves is how you seem to just fit in into his life
You and the boys act like siblings
His parents seem at ease with you
His dog acts like he can't live without you
You just look like you belong
Late night talks also go crazy with this one
I swear, he always has the most ?? things to talk about
In the end, this is all about silent yet firm love, always there when you need it and everlasting
Masterlist | you'll probably like: pick me!BTS
Daily click
Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!
You asked for it, and i shall deliver it. Here we are with my second reading list featuring my tangerine-precious baby-badboy (but not really) Min Yoongi.
It also took a while because, no joke, I went through my likes all the way back to March to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything (it was a long two and a half days 😮💨)
And this time I wanted to show that graphic design is my passion, so I made this banner which I think turned out particularly beautiful. Just saying 💅 (I was happy to have achieved a result that pleased me)
And last but not least: I would like to thank and acknowledge every fanfic on this list. Thank you to each author for bringing these works into the world. Show them some love.
with love,
your tangie <3
don’t forget to check my masterlist if you liked this one!
🌟The first taste by @glossdebut | pairing: bisexual!yoongi x bisexual!reader | genre: smut, childhood friends | ongoing
summary: You’re fresh off another breakup, furious at your own body for never responding the way it’s “supposed” to—and even more furious at the sinking fear that something might be wrong with you. When late-night research leads you toward fantasies you’ve never dared to voice, you turn to the one person you trust most: your best friend.
tangie note: okay, this one is so so special! im having the time of my life reading this baby. Every chapter feels like the best one. I love you @glossdebut and i just want to say that i read chapter 3 4 times so far so yeah... safe to say i like it.
🌟 Happy birthday, baby (a take a bite drabble) by @glossdebut | pairing: dad!yoongi x mom!reader | genre: smut | completed
summary: You know your husband hates surprises. And parties. And anything involving the words "surprise" or "party." Still, after a remarkable year as a career and the father of your child, you're determined to do something special for his thirty-third birthday. Even if it's a week late.
🌟“I used to have a crush on you” by @v-hope | pairing: min yoongi x reader | genre: social media au, fluff. f2l | completed
🌟Your boyfriend’s just too big! by @cookieebutter | tangie note: This isn't specifically about Yoongi, but I took artistic liberties and made it so | genre: smut | completed
🌟 Reckless by @merakoo | pairing: d. dealer!yoongi x reader | genre: smut | completed
summary: Desperate to escape the reality of your own life, you reach out to the last kind of guy someone like you would ever get involved with. Part time dealer and part time sexologist, Yoongi knows just what you need to take your mind off things.
🌟 Wake up call by @borathae | pairing: vampire boyfriend!yoongi x reader | genre: smut, established relationship!AU | completed
summary: You accidentally start your period in the middle of the night next to your boyfriend, who just so happens to be a vampire with a way too sensitive sense of smell
🌟 25 Days of Christmas Day 17 (Yoongi): “I didn’t buy you lingerie as a joke. I fully expect you to wear it tonight." by @redrose10 | pairing: yoongi x reader | genre: smut | completed
🌟 Scenario: it’s almost time for you to return to your apartment, but Yoongi doesn’t want you to leave… ever by @suga-chan-nu | pairing: yoongi x reader | genre: fluff | completed
🌟Doin' suga skincare by @saturnoestrela | pairing: yoongi x reader | genre: fluff | completed
🌟“You didn’t eat today, did you?” by @belleeebelleee | pairing: yoongi x reader | genre: fluff (kinda) | completed
🌟SUGA! HONEY! LOVE! by @shawtuzi | pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x black fem!reader | genre: fluff | completed
summary: after almost a year of dating your super nonchalant bf drops an even more nonchalant L bomb
🌟 Caught in the act by @kittenan2 | pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x reader x jungkook | genre: smut, poly au | completed
🌟 Cowlick by @yoonmetogether | pairing: idol!yoongi x wife!reader | genre: smut | completed
summary: you're the reason why your husband's hair is a mess for the 'hooligan' mv.
don’t forget to check my masterlist if you liked this one!
yoongi is the most acts of service man to ever live, but he's subtle about it. he doesn't like to make a big show, he's not trying to get praise for his selfless acts. he prefers to be helpful unnoticed.
it's not like you're a lazy person, some tasks just seem daunting or get pushed back in place of more urgent things, and yoongi takes note of everything.
any chores you've been procrastinating get magically completed just before you muster the energy to attempt them. whenever you get up from your desk, having been working for a while, just to come back to a plate with snacks, a bottle of water and a little note reminding you to look after yourself in that oh so familiar handwriting.
he moves so quietly it almost feels like you have a helpful ghost in the house. you always find him exactly where you left him, in his home studio working on whatever project has been calling to him recently. when he notices you come in he gives you a quick soft smile before turning back to his work, looking like he hasn't moved for hours.
you would've thought it was some supernatural occurrence had you not finally caught him in the act. most tasks he can do quickly, lifting your burdens before you even have chance to notice. this time though, it was something he was unfamiliar with.
you'd mentioned in passing once how you desperately needed to wash your make-up brushes but its just one of those jobs that isn't important enough to take priority in your seemingly endless list of tasks. time passes, they remain unwashed at your dresser, and yoongi notices. he remembers what you said, a new opportunity to show his love for you has arisen.
you're confused when you arrive home to find him at the table, frowning at his phone screen with a variety of supplies around him. it takes a moment for you to realise your makeup brushes are neatly aligned on a towel in front of him, a bowl of soapy water next to them. you finally notice the what he's watching on his phone, the sound of instructions from a youtube beauty guru explaining how to safely clean make up supplies.
he does everything in his power to make your life easier, lifting even the smallest of burdens that you hadn't even realised were bothering you. you never understood what it must be like to be loved so thoughtfully, so carefully, until you felt what it was like to be loved by min yoongi.
Genre: Fluff that is all, just slice of life fluff.
Content warnings: None that I can think of but feel free to let me know if there are!
Word count: 3.6k Roughly
authors note: It’s been a minute since I had both time and inspiration to write but this Yoongi live still lives in my head rent free!
Your morning didn’t begin the way it usually did — not with your alarm, also not with your boyfriend’s grumpy groan about it being too early.
Instead, it started with a soft, startled “oof” beside you… followed by a loud, vibrating purr and an indignant little mrrrow.
“Good morning to you too, Tang-ah,” Yoongi rasped, his voice thick with sleep and fond exasperation. “You trying to assassinate me before breakfast?”
You blinked blearily, still half cocooned in blankets, and reached out blindly from your warm nest of sheets. Your fingers met sleek fur almost immediately. You threaded them through it, slow and lazy, and Tang’s purring deepened into something that felt like it could power a small engine.
The cat was perched triumphantly on Yoongi’s lower stomach, kneading with determined little paws like he was working dough.
You smiled into the pillow and shuffled closer to Yoongi’s warmth, draping yourself partly over his side.
“Told you he could open doors now,” you murmured sleepily. “Our boy is a genius, aren’t you, Tangie? Smartest in the whole house.”
You scratched under Tang’s chin, and he tipped his head back dramatically, soaking up the attention like royalty. His paws continued their rhythmic kneading, entirely unapologetic.
Yoongi’s quiet chuckle vibrated through his chest beneath you. You rolled onto your back to stretch, immediately regretting the movement when Tang transferred his full weight onto you with zero hesitation, absolutely baited into it by your oh so loving boyfriend.
“Yoon,” you protested weakly as the cat settled squarely on your chest like he’d claimed new territory.
“What?” Yoongi shot back, already throwing the blankets off himself. “He was making those biscuits on my bladder. I was two seconds from pissing myself. It was survival. All is fair in cat parenting my love”
He swung his legs out of bed, shuffling toward the ensuite with a sigh and stretch. “You deal with him. He’s your son now.”
You snorted softly and relented, bringing both hands up to scratch behind Tang’s ears. He immediately began kneading again, this time with far too much enthusiasm and absolutely no respect for personal space.
“Ow, that was my nipple!,” you muttered fondly as his paws pressed into your chest. “You have no concept of boundaries, do you?”
Tang answered by purring louder and kneading harder.
From the bathroom, Yoongi’s voice floated back, amused. “He learned that from you.”
You laughed quietly, carding your fingers through Tang’s fur as sunlight began to creep through the curtains, painting the room in warmth. The sheets were soft, the cat was smug, and the faint sound of Yoongi moving around the bathroom grounded everything in that gentle, lived-in way that made mornings feel nice.
You closed your eyes again with a contented sigh, trusting in the universal law of cats — once they had decided you were boring, they would move on to their next conquest. Sure enough, Tang abandoned you within seconds, hopping down from the bed with a purposeful flick of his tail.
“Off to commit crimes, my child” you murmured. “Probably going to scam your grandmother out of treats for breakfast, huh?.”
If you had to bet, he was already halfway down the hall, rehearsing his most pitiful meow.
The mattress dipped beside you again and before you could react, strong arms wrapped around your waist and dragged you backward. You squealed softly as Yoongi pulled you flush against his chest, his warmth enveloping you. He nipped playfully at your shoulder before pressing slow kisses there instead, his lips lingering against your skin.
“Hey,” you laughed breathlessly.
His hand slipped beneath your sleep shirt, warm palm settling just under your chest. The contact made you chuckle, half from surprise, half from the familiar comfort of him.
“Hhmm?” he hummed innocently into your neck.
“Oh nothing,” you said lightly, nudging his wrist with your fingers. “Just thinking your son learned that move from you.”
Yoongi’s face lit up with a wicked little grin as he lifted his head, eyes glittering with mischief. He buried his face back into your neck, planting another kiss there, slower this time.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll behave.”
You felt the words more than heard them.
His hand stilled, resting comfortably instead of wandering, and his voice softened when he asked, “What are your plans for today?”
You groaned a dramatic little sound then rolled onto your side so you could face him. “I have to edit the photos from the Allen wedding, make a start on putting together their album and slideshow… and I’ve also got some emails I’ve been pretending don’t exist.”
You cupped his cheek and kissed him, slow and lingering. “I should probably start editing soon, but what about you, my love? Off to the studio to be a musical genius and lyrical mastermind?”
You grinned when his cheeks flushed pink immediately.
“Hajima,” he muttered, scrunching his nose before the shy smile returned. But then his expression shifted — the teasing softness fading into something more thoughtful. His brows knit slightly as he hesitated.
“I will be… for a bit,” he said carefully. “But… I was also thinking I might go live today.”
You tilted your head. “Live?”
“Yeah,” he nodded faintly. “Maybe when I’m home… or maybe at the studio.”
His voice was quieter now, less certain. He stared at the pillow for a moment before glancing back at you.
“With one of the boys?” you prompted gently.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “By myself.”
Your heart tightened at that. You could see it now — the nerves tucked beneath his calm, the way his fingers fidgeted slightly against the sheets. It wasn’t fear of ARMY. Never them. It was the weight of time, the vulnerability of showing himself again alone, without the comfort of his six brothers, after so long.
You smiled and ran your thumb slowly across his cheek, grounding him. “You know they’ve missed you.”
“I know,” he sighed softly. “I just… haven’t done it like that in a while.”
His eyes lifted to yours, searching.
“Baby,” you whispered with a small grin, “you don’t have to stay long. You could just say hi, show them you’re alive and still handsome.”
He snorted. “Handsome?”
“Devastatingly,” you corrected.
That finally earned you a real smile, slow and fond. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours.
“Will you watch?” he asked quietly.
“Of course,” you said without hesitation. “I’ll even be the first ‘Yoongi marry me’ in the chat.”
He kissed you then with a chuckle, gentle and grateful, his arms tightening around you as sunlight crept higher across the bed and the quiet hum of the house wrapped around you both.
Somewhere down the hall, Tang yowled dramatically.
You both sighed.
“See?” you murmured. “Already practicing for his drama debut.”
Breakfast was a quick, lazy affair — toast, sliced fruit, and a few stolen kisses before you finally sent him out the door. You watched Yoongi tug his jacket on, hair still soft and a little wild from sleep, before you pressed one last kiss to his lips and waved him off.
“Don’t forget to eat,” you called after him.
“I won’t forget, and don’t try to act like you're not as bad” he shot back with a grin.
The door clicked shut, leaving the apartment wrapped in a peaceful quiet. Almost immediately, soft paws thudded down the hallway behind you.
You smiled. “Of course you’re coming too.”
Tang followed you like a shadow into your office. You pushed the door open and crossed straight to the window, pulling the blinds up and letting the honeyed morning light spill across the room. Dust motes danced in it, turning the space warm and alive.
“Okay, Tang,” you murmured as you set your coffee beside your laptop and dropped into your chair. “Mumma needs to lock the fuck in on these photos.”
He jumped onto the desk with a soft thump and headbutted your chin in agreement.
Before booting up your laptop, you took a second to glance around the room — and your gaze softened when it landed on your favorite photo frame. Yoongi’s gummy smile was frozen there forever, joy written all over his face as he watched his brother marry the love of his life. You’d taken it without thinking, just another candid moment from the wedding… never knowing it would be the moment that quietly tied your lives together.
That was how you and Yoongi had met — photographing his brother’s wedding.
But that is a story for another day.
You opened your software and spent the first hour answering inquiries and booking new weddings, then finally pulled up the album you planned to work on today. The newlyweds filled your screen — the groom looking at his bride like she’d hung the moon, eyes bright with awe as they cut the cake.
Your chest warmed.
“Definitely going in the album, huh, Tang-ah,” you mused.
Your sentence was punctuated by a solid headbutt to your jaw.
“Violent agreement. Got it.”
You lost track of time after that, sinking into your editing flow — adjusting contrast, fiddling around with grayscale, softening colors, cropping just right. The only interruptions were the soft click of your mouse, the faint hum of the apartment, and the steady ping of your phone as Yoongi sent updates from the studio.
Tang’s dad 🐈⬛ : This song we’re working on… it’s so good.
You smiled instantly.
Y/N: Send me a snippet!
Tang’s dad 🐈⬛ : Nope. you have to wait like everyone else, baby.
You scoffed aloud, already picturing the smug grin he’d be wearing.
Y/N: Even though I’m sleeping with one of the producers?? rude. What kind of non-perks are these Min!!!
You hit send with a shake of your head, imagining the fond eye-roll he’d give his phone.
Eventually, your stomach betrayed you with an unmistakable growl.
“Okay,” you muttered. “Lunch time i guess, damn.”
It took about five seconds to decide ‘absolutely not’ to cooking. You grabbed your phone, opened the food delivery app, and ordered gimbap and another coffee for yourself — then added a second order for Yoongi to be delivered to the studio without even thinking about it.
You plucked a few strawberries from the fridge to tide yourself over and padded out into the living room, stretching your back out with a groan.
“I really need to fix my posture,” you scolded yourself. “I sit like a shrimp.”
Tang followed, tail flicking as you collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through Netflix, not really watching anything.
A little bit later your mouth full of food your phone buzzed again.
Tang’s dad 🐈⬛ : Thank you, for the coffee and gimbap my love.
Your lips curved immediately.
Y/N: you’re welcome baby, I even ordered the americano decaf for you and your old man stomach, oh sweet love of my life.
A pause.
Then—
Tang’s dad 🐈⬛ : Old man?! I am four months older than you…
Tang’s dad 🐈⬛ : Great now JK is calling me old man I hate you.
You laughed.
Y/N: No you don’t.
You were left on read.
You shook your head fondly, setting your phone down as Tang hopped up beside you and curled into your thigh.
“Bubs?” you told him. “Your dad is dramatic.”
Tang blinked slowly.
The apartment stayed quiet, warm with sunlight and the faint promise of delivery bags and new music somewhere across the city.
By the time you finally surfaced from your editing software again, your eyes felt dry and your shoulders ached in that familiar I’ve been sitting too long way. A decent portion of the album was finished, the rest of the photos neatly tagged and waiting for tomorrow. You saved everything with a satisfied hum and pushed your chair back just as—
Tang suddenly shot out of the room like he’d been fired from a cannon.
You grinned instantly.
The electronic lock disengaged with its familiar chirp, followed by a soft, fond voice from the hallway.
“Yeah, Tang-ah… Dad’s home.”
The loudest, most content meow Tang had made all day rang through the apartment, followed by frantic little paws skidding across the floor.
“Y/N, I’m home!”
“In my office, sweetheart,” you called back, glancing at the clock.
Fuck.
Had it really gotten that late?
You rolled your shoulders, wincing, just as warm hands settled on them and began kneading gently. A startled breath left you before melting into a soft sigh.
“And you have the nerve to get on my ass about my posture,” Yoongi murmured by your ear.
You hummed and reached back, fingers sliding into his long dark hair. You turned your head to press a kiss to his cheek.
“I’m merely helping out the elderly.”
You barely had time to snicker before he pinched your hip lightly.
“Fuckin’ brat,” he muttered, affection thick in his voice.
You turned in your chair fully to face him, as he leaned against your desk while Tang circled his ankles like a tiny bodyguard. Yoongi launched into stories from the studio — how everyone was buzzing because the album finally sounded finished, how Hobi had been utterly clowned by Jimin, Jungkook, and Jin for getting confused over the Super Tuna dance.
“Oh, they’ll never let him live that down,” you laughed. “Hobi’s gonna be out for blood next practice.”
“Exactly why I’m skipping it,” Yoongi said with a grin.
Then he hesitated.
You saw it immediately — the way his shoulders lifted slightly, the way his fingers flexed against the desk.
“Um… do you mind if I use the media room and go live?”
You didn’t even blink. “Baby, it’s your house too. You don’t have to ask.”
His shoulders dropped in relief.
“If we bring Tang in here,” you added. “I’ll keep him occupied. I’ll just shut the door and we can be quiet as a mouse, we will watch on my phone while I finish these last edits.”
You leaned up and kissed him softly. “You’re gonna do great.”
His lips curved against yours, that shy little smile you loved.
“Your glasses are still on the nightstand, by the way!” you called as he headed for the hall.
He lifted a hand in a wave without turning back.
Tang immediately tried to follow him.
“Oh no you don’t,” you said, scooping the cat up mid-betrayal. “Your dad has a very important celebrity thing to do.”
Tang yowled in protest as you shut the door.
You settled back into your chair with the cat in your lap, phone already in hand as you reopened your editing software. Through the closed media room door, you heard faint movement — the scrape of a chair, the soft click of a lamp.
A moment later, the Weverse notification lit up your screen.
쇼가 is live
Your heart fluttered as you tapped into Weverse, propping your phone against your now-empty coffee cup. The screen loaded and—
God.
God he looked so soft it almost hurt.
Dark hair still fluffy from the day, falling gently around his face, the black shirt fitting him criminally well. For a second he just sat there, blinking at the camera, clearly trying to convince himself this was a normal thing to do again.
Then he frowned.
Squinted.
Lifted the phone closer to his face.
“…Ah.”
You smiled so hard your cheeks ached.
He muttered something about his eyesight, fiddled with his hair, then leaned out of frame.
“I’ll be right back.”
You sighed fondly into the quiet office, hearing him move down the hallway picturing his little grandpa shuffle as he searched for his glasses.
“I told you where they were, idiot.” You whispered fondly
On screen, he came back wearing them, immediately looking more put-together and somehow even softer.
He talked about the cold weather first — the safe topic — brushing his bangs back, glancing nervously at the comments, squinting again.
“Why can’t I see the words very well?”
You scoffed quietly. “Old man.”
Comforted by the sound of his deep voice filling the apartment, you turned back to your editing. You adjusted contrast on a photo of the bridal party, smiled at how perfectly the sun caught the bride’s veil, and glanced over at Tang just to be sure.
He was sprawled across his cat tower like a loaf of burnt bread, tail flicking lazily.
“Good,” you whispered. “Stay.”
You dove back into your work, slipping into that familiar focused trance. Yoongi’s voice hummed in the background as he thanked ARMY for waiting, said he’d missed them, promised music soon.
You were so close to finishing.
Then—
“Mrrrow.”
Your heart dropped.
You snapped your head up.
The cat tower was empty.
You whipped around to the office door.
Now opened a fraction.
…Which meant he was surely already in the hallway.
“Fuck,” you breathed.
You froze in your chair, mind racing. You couldn’t go after him — not without making noise, not without being heard. You risked a glance at your phone just in time to see Yoongi’s expression change.
First: surprise.
Next: resignation.
Finally: pure fondness.
He looked and scoffed like a man who knew exactly what was happening, and accepted it.
“Tang,” he called gently.
Your stomach flipped.
“Mrrrow.”
“Yes. Today,” Yoongi said with a sigh. “Yes, Tang. Come on air today.”
You stared in horror as your cat was lifted into frame like a furry offering to the internet. You watched as Min Yoongi, world renowned artist, producer and rapper. Introduced your cat to the world with the most endeared smile, like he was the proudest millennial cat dad alive.
“This is Tang,” he said, smiling as Tang immediately demanded tummy rubs. “He’s… very loud.”
Tang rewarded him by screaming.
Yoongi chuckled and scratched under his chin. Then he frowned slightly and began patting Tang’s neck.
“Wait… where is your bell?”
You slapped a hand over your mouth.
No.
He disappeared off screen for half a second and reappeared holding it.
That stupid bell. So stupid it was adorable.
The tiny, ridiculous, baby chick-shaped bell you had bought at three in the morning because it was cute, yellow and absolutely unnecessary, and that alone made it necessary.
He fastened it back around Tang’s neck proudly.
“There,” he said, smiling like he’d accomplished something great.
Your heart fluttered painfully as he explained how he had originally wanted two cats — one named Sol and one Tang — but couldn’t. How Tang’s dad had been a street cat. How Tang could open doors. How smart he was.
You sank back into your chair, watching the screen with a hand still over your mouth.
Tang fussed in Yoongi’s arms, tail swishing, meowing indignantly. Yoongi answered every sound with hums and a little smile, rubbing his belly, patting his back.
Then came the butt pats.
Firm. Proud. Repetitive.
Tang melted into it instantly demanding more.
The rest of the live passed like a blur — Yoongi talking about music, Tang interrupting, Yoongi telling ARMY even more things about that menace of a beautiful cat.
You watched the whole thing from your desk, heart warm, eyes soft, knowing you would never tease him about this…
…Out loud, anyway.
When the live finally ended, you didn’t move right away.
You just stared at the black screen for a second and whispered:
“I love you, you ridiculous man.”
From down the hall, you heard:
“Mrrrow.”
And then Yoongi’s voice:
“Don’t try and act innocent now Tang-ah.”
Moving on instinct alone, you slipped out of your office and padded down the hallway, apology already forming on your lips.
“Yoon— baby, I am so sorry,” you said softly, poking your head into the media room with your hands clasped in front of you. “I only looked away for a second to fix the contrast on this picture and—”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.”
He was already smiling.
Tang was curled up in his lap like he’d been there all along, a black ball of fur rising and falling with slow, satisfied breaths. A deep purr vibrated through the quiet room, loud enough that you felt it before you fully heard it.
“He just missed his dad,” Yoongi added gently, running his hand down Tang’s back.
Your chest tightened.
“I should’ve noticed him opening the door,” you said, stepping fully inside and lowering yourself beside him on the couch. “I really am sorry.”
Yoongi shook his head. “He… actually helped calm my nerves.” He glanced at you then, eyes soft as they traced your face. “So it worked out.”
You let out a small laugh, leaning into him. “I’m also sorry I wasn’t the first ‘Yoongi marry me’ in the chat, for what it’s worth.”
You rested your head on his shoulder and slid your fingers into Tang’s fur, scratching lightly behind his ear.
Yoongi’s body shook with silent laughter, his arm coming around you automatically.
“Traitor,” he murmured fondly.
For a moment, you just stayed there — the three of you tucked into the quiet aftermath of something that had felt big something vulnerable and somehow small all at once.
You thought, not for the first time, that life couldn’t possibly get any better than this.
A boyfriend who loved you deeply.
A cat who loved you both loudly.
And a home that felt warm in every sense of the word.
Tang shifted slightly, stretching one paw out experimentally until it rested against your leg, as if testing whether he could still charm you too.
Your heart melted.
“Look at him,” you whispered. “He’s deciding if I’m worthy.”
“He is very selective,” Yoongi agreed solemnly.
You smiled into his shoulder, eyes drifting shut.
What you couldn’t know — what you had no way of knowing yet — was that hidden away in the safe at Genius Lab was a small velvet ring box. Waiting patiently. Quietly. Full of promises to make life even sweeter.
