#agust d

your boyfriend yoongi had been working for several hours on his laptop, finishing his latest track.

he sat on the big chair, all focused on the screen in front of him.

a half finished black coffee beside him that you'd brought him an hour ago.

his posture was relaxed but still in an intensely concentrated manner that always made your heart skip a beat.

he was wearing a hoodie only, his dark hair fell messily over his forehead and every so often he would absentmindedly push his new thin rectangular glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger.

the gesture was so simple yet it made your legs squeeze together.

you had been curled up on the small couch in the corner of his studio for what felt like hours now, he brought that couch especially for you only so he could have you in his space while he works.

he doesn’t like having you away from him for even a second.

there was a forgotten book open on your lap as your eyes kept drifting away from the pages and towards him.

the way the glow from the monitors reflected on his glasses, his brows furrowing in focus which made his already cat like eyes sharper.

it made him look effortlessly authoritative and intelligent, also attractive in a way that made your cheeks turn pink.

he started wearing glasses a few weeks ago and you had openly admitted to him how much the glasses affected you.

“they look really good on you yoongi... like, so sexy.” you had confessed the first night.

he had simply smirked and adjusted them with one finger, no doubt feeling pride at the observation and his girl's approval.

“noted. i'll keep that in mind.”

and he had.

ever since whenever he slipped them on for work, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything else.

a need that didn’t go away with every passing minute you spent watching him.

the longer you sat there stealing glances the more your clit throbbed insistently, your nipples hardening under your tank top and you could feel your panties get soaked clinging to your folds.

you don’t like to wear much when you're at home anyways so you're just wearing a tiny black tank top with no bra and panties only.

yoongi preferred you like this.

you shifted on the couch, twirling a strand of your hair and read one single sentence several times in your book.

you’ve been trying to behave but you can't focus on anything else.

finally when you couldn’t hold back any longer, you stood up slowly feeling your stomach flutter from nervousness.

you walked to his desk and stood beside him, yoongi didn’t immediately turn his head away from the screen but you noticed the way he tilted his head and the slight curve of his lips that told you he had been very aware of you the entire time.

“yoongi…”

you called out but your voice came out more breathy than you intended as you took in his clean male scent.

“hmm?”

he responded as his free hand reached out instinctively, fingers brushing along the side of your bare thigh, stroking it making you shiver.

his voice was always so deep that sometimes that was all you needed to hear to get horny.

you could never get enough of his voice.

“what's up baby? you’ve been squirming over there for a while now.”

he was almost amused still typing something on his keyboard as if he could read every single dirty thought running through your mind without even needing to look at you fully.

you swallowed hard as your finger twisted the edge of your panty.

“i… i know you've been working for a while and i can't stop looking at you in those glasses.”

you let out in a rush shyly but don’t admit how crazy it has been driving you as you look at him with half lidded eyes.

a chuckle rumbled out of him as he spun his chair around to face you properly, one of his eyebrows arched.

he scanned your face and then went down taking in the way your curves are right there for him to stare at, barely clothed in anything.

“yeah? you really like them that much huh?”

he never thought you'd get this worked up from watching him work as he leaned back slightly in his chair, spreading his legs a little wider in invitation.

the silver rings on his fingers were visible to you as he rested one hand on his thigh.

“i do… a lot.” you whispered.

biting down on your lower lip as your pussy clenched emptily.

“you look so… dominant like this.”

his gaze darkened noticeably behind his glasses as the word “dominant” left your lips.

“such a good girl for admitting it...” he praised and you let out a shaky breath.

“since you're so distracted by my glasses and can't seem to sit still… maybe i should give you a much closer look and take care of you while i keep my glasses on, you like this idea?”

his other hand adjusted his glasses with that same middle finger push you loved so much and this time he did it almost cockily.

“yes..” you moaned softly.

“come here mama.”

he patted his thigh once with his palm gesturing to where he wants you without words.

you moved between his spread legs without a second thought but instead of simply sitting on his lap, you leaned down first capturing his lips for a quick kiss without being able to help yourself.

he deepens the kiss immediately as his hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, fingers curling into your hair possessively.

you mewled into his mouth as you tasted the coffee he had been sipping earlier along with the unique taste he always has as his tongue brushed against yours, your hands resting on his broad shoulders for balance.

“yoongi... your work—” you started, glancing at the open laptop.

when he finally pulled back just enough to speak, both of your breaths mingling together.

“work can wait a little while.. my baby needs my attention right now which is more important.” he lets out roughly.

he had no heart to ignore that pretty pussy which was calling for him.

he was aware of it.

he picks you up until your feet dangle above the ground making you gasp at the way he always manhandles you effortlessly, his hand between your armpits as he settles you over the very edge of his large desk.

your heart pounded at the feeling of your warm thighs settling over the wooden desk.

papers and a notebook shifted under your weight and the mouse slid a bit as your hip brushed against it but yoongi didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

he rolled his chair forward until he was positioned perfectly between your now spread things.

“spread your legs wider for me sweet girl, let me see you...”

you obeyed, your breathing already coming out faster in anticipation as you watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly drag them down your legs before he tossed them carelessly aside onto the floor somewhere beside him.

“mmph.”

you let out a whimper as the studio air hits your now exposed cunt, your glistening folds visible to him.

“look at this pretty pussy.”

he murmured reverently with appreciation as he leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning over your mound making you pant in excitement.

“so fucking wet and swollen for me... you're dripping all over my desk already and i haven't even touched you properly mm?”

his filthy words made your cheeks turn redder as you nodded, unable to deny how desperately aroused you felt.

“yes... it's all because of you and those glasses.” you croaked out shamelessly.

no longer having the restraint to keep your feelings hidden.

“i've been aching for hours.”

a coy look takes place in his face as he starts leaving open mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, each one making your skin tingle also leaving remnants of his saliva as you writhe.

his free hand rested on your other thigh thumb rubbing teasing circles that inched ever closer to your center without quite reaching it while he kept his eyes on you, a grin on his lips from your reaction.

when his mouth hovered directly over your twitching clit that was so engorged it had escaped from its hood, he paused there just letting his breath brush against it.

knowing it makes you a little mad.

he could never get enough of having you in this state and all open for him so he always takes his time, having the privilege of being your man which he can never fully believe.

he's always thankful for having you so he never misses any opportunity to worship you.

“yoongi... please don't tease me too much.”

you begged as your hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly.

“shh i got you baby. i'm gonna take my time with this little pussy because you deserve it.”

he whispered against you and then without further warning, his tongue which has always been incredibly skilled since the beginning of your relationship like it has a mind of its own, knew how to move in the exact way to please you.

it knew you better than yourself.

he dragged a long stripe from your dripping entrance all the way up to your throbbing clit.

“uh—ahh fuck yoongi... that feels so good.” you cried out.

your head tilts back with parted lips and he hums in approval which travels straight to your core making your walls flutter around nothing.

“mhmm you taste so fucking perfect baby... so ready for my mouth always.”

he can never get enough of the amount of honey you produce for him, he holds your plump folds apart to see more dribbles of your creamy mess leaking one by one.

“shitt.” he cursed in a dreamy sign from the way your pussy responds to him.

his tongue explored every inch of you slowly, circling your clit with quick flicks and then capturing the bud between his lips before releasing it with a wet pop and flicking it with his tongue and then sucking again.

“oh god..” you whined.

he can probably spend an entire day playing with your clit with his tongue and fingers like it's a little button.

one of his hands slid upwards under your flimsy top to cup a breast and roll the hardened nipple between his fingers with just enough pressure to double the sensations for you.

“mm... ah...”

your moans grew louder not being able to stop yourself as one of your hands fisted his hair while your legs kept his head trapped between your thighs.

“keep making those pretty noises for me… yeah… let me hear exactly how much you love my tongue on you.”

your body responds automatically as your hips rock subtly against his face.

“uh… uh… uh… yoongi your tongue feels—”

your words get interrupted with a sequel as another particularly skillful flick of his tongue lands on your clit making your back arch almost entirely off the table.

he looks up at you never stopping his mouth, drinking in your expressions as the wet noises and your whimpers of satisfaction fill the room obscenely.

it was so erotic.

and suddenly everything felt hot from the way both of you started sweating.

yoongi continued focusing on your clit using the pointed top of his tongue for a more targeted stimulation, knowing how much you love it.

like the perfectionist he was, he changed his motions based on your reactions.

you fisted one of his work sheets, unknowingly crumbling it which he didn't mind because he started eating you out even faster.

his fingers eventually joined the assault too, two digits probing your slit circling the slick opening before finally pushing inside your tight cunt in one thrust and you were so wet that he slipped even deeper on his own.

“ohh!”

you let out a surprised sob at the sudden stretch even though he's fingered you over a hundred times now but still now the feeling of his long fingers took your breath away.

his fingers immediately curled in that spongy spot deep inside you.

“fuuuuck yess right there! gosh yoongi, your fingers… it feels s-so good!”

you cried out loudly which sounded so much louder in the room as your pussy clenched on him once again.

the combination of his tongue on your clit and the way he keeps on pumping his fingers in and out of you has you murmuring nonsense into your hand.

you gripped the table so hard, your knuckles turned white.

sclick. sclick. sclick.

your pussy makes pornographic noises from the amount of arousal you keep on making and it is coating his hand now too, also dripping on the desk beneath you.

he groaned against your pussy, pulling away for a bit to talk but still with his mouth pressed against your labia.

“that's my good girl… so tight and greedy..”

a quiet overwhelmed scream left you when he added a third finger stretching you to your limits, increasing the pace just enough to push you to the edge without letting you tip over yet.

his glasses were starting to fog up from the heat and his own labored breaths.

the sight of it only heightened the moment for you.

“yoongi your glasses… they're getting all foggy from me.”

you panted between desperate moans as you watched him continue devouring you.

“ugh i can'tt.”

you whined as he kept on thrusting, scissoring his fingers while rubbing that soft spot deep inside your pussy like he's inspecting you on the inside.

he lifted his gaze to meet yours and you could see the lust in his eyes even though they were partially hidden behind the clouded lenses.

“yeah that's good isn't it? means i'm eating this pussy exactly right. you like seeing me like this? all foggy because of how wet and hot you are for me?”

he encourages you further with his murmurs against you as his fingers curl harder and faster now, directly sucking onto your clit as if he wants something to come out of it.

you couldn't take it anymore.

you were losing your mind.

from his words, every thrust, every suck, from his whole presence alone.

“i'm so close ahh please don't stop yoongi! i'm gonna cum so hard..”

tears welled in your eyes as your entire body tensed with the impending release.

“not yet mama. hold it just a little longer for me.”

he growled against your folds, slowing his movements for a few seconds to keep you teetering right on the edge and to keep you crying for a bit more.

then he sped up again relentlessly, three fingers thrusting deep and fast while also using his nose to grind up straight between your folds.

that's it. it happened like that.

your whole body seized and shook as the orgasm crashed over you and you crumble more of his papers on the desk and even making some files fall but you were too deep in it to notice.

“yoongi shitt i'm—i'm cumming! ahhuh yes yes oh god!” you let out a choked scream.

your cunt clenched around his fingers, fluttering weakly as gushes dripped down his hand and messily pooled on his desk.

your moans turned into cries as you clamped his head tighter between your legs and you tried to stop yourself, scared that you'd suffocate him but he grunted lowly holding you closer, which signaled how much he loved to be crushed by you.

he kept on licking and fingering slowly through the aftershocks until you were pushing his head away while letting out murmurs dumbly.

when the peak finally began to ebb leaving you breathing heavily, did yoongi slowly withdraw his fingers.

a snarl escaping him as he sat back in his chair with his chest heaving.

he held the glossy fingers up proudly and he sucked them clean while looking at you with hooded eyes, his tongue working around as you whimpered.

his glasses were completely fogged up now.

the only thing that was missing was his glasses soaked with your essence… it was one of your dirty fantasies.

and you wanted to do it.

even though you felt boneless from cumming as your body twitches with renewed interest.

you looked down at him through your post orgasmic haziness, still trying to catch your breath.

“yoongi...” you cooed almost.

“can i… can i cum on your glasses this time? i wanna rub myself all over them and make an even bigger mess… please.” you breathe out.

even in your ears, it sounded so naughty.

his eyes widened for a bit before a slow smirk took place on his lips, his tongue coming out to lick at his bottom lip slowly where there were still remnants of your release.

he pushed his chair back slightly to give you space as he gripped your thighs.

“you want that baby?”

you nod eagerly with flushed cheeks.

“please...”

he lets out a hoarse laugh, closing his eyes for a bit before fixing it on your face.

“god what am i supposed to do with this dirty girl huh?” he says so adoringly that it makes you feel giddy on the inside.

“come here then use my glasses however you want. soak me, grind your cum all over the lenses... whatever you want mama.”

he helped you slide off the desk on still shaky legs and straddle his lap.

your breasts rises and falls at his words and the way he always treats all your needs as if they were his own, always exploring whatever the other wants with no judgment.

because both of you were just as filthy and downbad for each other.

that's why people say you both just fit so well.

you shuddered when your sensitive pussy hovered just above his obvious bulge that held his rock hard cock.

but he was so focused on you and making you feel good to even notice that.

instead of making you sink down on him, he placed an arm under your butt and picked you up making your legs wrap around his waist as he carried you to the couch before he settled down on it first.

he tilts his head back just enough, holding your hips steady as he looks up at you expectantly.

“go on pretty baby, rub that slutty pussy right on my glasses… mm i wanna feel every bit of it.”

the command makes your legs squeeze together as you look down at him with parted lips, your hair framing your face.

he crooks a finger in your direction so you'd come and sit right on his face.

“don't make me ask twice y/n.”

you shivered at him calling your name, he only does that when he is in his serious and strict mood.

it always makes you weak in the knees.

you didn't waste time and lowered yourself carefully until your slick folds made direct contact with his glasses.

the glass against your already overheated clit created an entirely new and different feeling.

“oh... gosh gahh yoongi... it feels weird… but so good.”

you moaned sharply, your legs settling firmly on either side of his face as he gripped your ass cheeks parting them for better access.

your hips begin to rock on their own experimentally smearing your arousal across his frame, making the glasses even more opaque as your release began to run down the sides.

he gave your ass a firm squeeze as he watched you with feral eyes.

“that's it… just like that… you're doing so well… does it feel good having my lenses rubbing against your clit hmm?”

he asked with genuine curiosity as your whines grew louder and more shakier, even you couldn't fathom that you could make such wanton noises.

“yess nghh... i-it feels amazing… knowing it's your glasses makes it so much better uh...”

he lets out an animal growl at your words, another one of his favorite things during moments of intimacy is your honesty.

your hips shuddered because you're already sensitive from the orgasm you had just a few minutes ago so it made you a little weak as your hands dug into his chest grabbing the fabric of his hoodie.

he kneaded your ass and landed a sharp spank, making you sob as he helped guide your movements up and down when he realized you're slowing down.

it was so lewd.

like you're nothing but just a sex doll and you're releasing so much liquid that it didn't take much effort, too, you were slippery enough to glide all over his glasses.

you were swimming in pleasure.

you selfishly wanted more and everything all at once.

“more… more… please more…”

“keep going mama... cum whenever you want to… make a fucking mess.” he urged.

he whispers praises for you as your tongue lolls out in ecstasy, sweat forming on your forehead as he rubs your back soothingly while your clit is getting all the unique frictions from the edge of his glass.

it felt too much like you wanted to escape from it, yet want more and more.

you yelped as you saw a bit of your arousal land on his eyelid.

“oh no! i'm sorry i'll—”

he stilled you with one hard grip on your waist as he glared up at you.

“don't you dare stop, it doesn't matter… you're not stopping.” he rasps out.

a tear streams down your face in pleasure when his tongue comes out to catch a droplet of you.

“b-but i don't want you getting hurt.. it's going to get inside your eyes.”

“continue.”

that's all he said, just that single word in his strict voice.

you knew he wasn't going to listen otherwise so your hips moved on their own.

you let out breathless cries as he guided you to move faster, your hips quivering so much you thought they'd give out.

“i can't i can't, oh god oh god, fuckk going to, going to cum.. c-cum—!” you hiccuped.

“do it, cum hard for me… come on.”

he demanded as his tongue lapped up at you in the most delicious way.

the second orgasm hits you suddenly that you had to grip the couch to steady yourself as spurts and spurts of your essence left you, hitting him all over the face.

you felt so guilty, but you couldn't stop yourself as it soaked his lips and glasses and all over.

“ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh—!”

you cried out repeatedly, hips grinding through the climax until your body had no more energy and he guided you slowly until your forehead rested against his.

both of you breathing heavily.

after several long moments of shared breathing, yoongi removed the thoroughly ruined glasses from his face which were completely glistening with cum.

thoroughly ruined and marked.

now that the high has left you, you let out a mortified whimper at how nasty you've been and hide your face on his chest making him chuckle lowly.

he sets them aside and wraps both of his arms around you, pulling you closer into his chest.

“damn baby... you really did a number on them didn't you?”

he rubbed loving patterns on your back and you laughed breathlessly, still riding the feeling from multiple orgasms.

“sorry... not sorry.”

you got carried away and you knew it but couldn't help it.

it isn't your fault that he was so hot.

he nuzzled his face on your neck planting kisses along your cheeks and throat as you did the same to him, tasting your own release there even though he didn't attempt to wipe you off him.

he liked having you get him all messy on him.

he titled your chin up with his finger to capture your lips in a slow kiss that allowed you to taste yourself more intimately as you both groan together from it.

your hearts beating hard together and so damn connected.

“don't ever apologize for getting needy like that for me, i love it when you lose control because of something as simple as my glasses you got it?”

he looks straight into your eyes so he makes sure you're getting each of his words.

“it means i'm doing my job right.”

he grumbles against your mouth and you let out a happy sound.

he never fails to make you feel so adored and desired.

after a few more minutes of just cuddling and talking about silly stuff basking in each other and the smell of sex, did yoongi's attention finally land on the laptop screen that was still glowing with the work he had to eventually return to.

even though he'd love to spend time with you instead, take you to bed and fuck you right up and he was aching inside his jeans.

he wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine and make you wait.

making you impatient always brings out the best outcome and he also wanted to finish all his work before he could concentrate on you fully.

after a while he helped you off his lap making you pout but it soon melts away when he helps you put on the fluffy pink blanket over your legs after wiping you clean gently with tissues and even his face in the process.

your panties were too ruined for you to wear them again and he wanted you bare underneath.

he adjusted your top so you felt comfortable again, he then picked you up with the blanket wrapped around you like a roll of burrito and settled you over his lap on the chair.

he didn't want you away from him.

he gave you that lazy knowing smile, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“think i can get back to work now? or are you gonna distract me again?”

he teased, thumbing your cheek while his other hand moved for the mouse.

“hmm... depends.”

you pretend to think as you settle against his chest with a contented sigh, feeling all comfy with him.

“maybe... but no promises after i clean those glasses for you to wear them again… i might need another closer look later.” you say cheekily.

he laughs hoarsely and shakes his head.

“such a brat huh? but i wouldn't have you any other way.”

the rest of the afternoon went on like that with your eyes half open, focusing on his work that you barely understood while he gave you touches occasionally.

sometimes leaning down to kiss any part of your exposed skin until you almost purred like a kitten being petted.

this was what he lived for.

you all wrapped in him while he did his tasks, just happy to have you there and he couldn't be anywhere else in the world.

he was the luckiest man alive.

“i love you lot baby, you know that?”

you let out a small breath and cupped his cheek, placing a kiss on his nose making his eyes close with a smile.

“i know… but i love you more.”

he opened his eyes with a mocking glare.

“impossible.”

his hand brushed on the ticklish side of your stomach, making you giggle and squirm.

and you knew in your heart without any of his words spoken because his eyes spoke.

promising that the night was far from over.

that he was gonna give you all the attention you want afterward.

you couldn’t wait.

perm. taglist : @chaelvrx @slutology00 @furioustrashlover @kelsyx33 @kooever @svnbangtansworld @xcviis @snuglymalicioussea @nellbyy @minewlove @l4yl44 @captainengineer-trixie @cristy-101 @fangirl-coco-goddess @lachesismoonmist @angelfuzzy2 @levisnumber1 @angelsdecalcomania @magicalnachocreator @hynjamkook @koodollylvr @withmuchluv-tannie @istarag @elmarimochi9513 @wtfanu @kooklv @endlesslysassy @tatamicc @armybomb-infires @jiniminisworld @seokjinthescientist @gyeomibearr @xmiaacxio @n0chuprettykook @gizaspicebag @aaclariww @dollytingz @kskskskskskskskss @imjustcrabby @jeonette @mrskimjoon

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’m good, sweetheart. I didn’t come here for the food or drinks.” The raven said.

You nodded, trying to diminish your smile. 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 practically 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 his stare down with Yoongi in the hallway. 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 best 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 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 of darkness, but Joon was always trouble. He only started hanging out with us after Yoongi met him in juvie at thirteen. And Yoongi didn't truly start getting into trouble until his parents died, that’s when everything changed.”

Your mind drifted back to the fair, recalling what the raven had said about his connection to Joon. It was only after Nam-Joon’s release from juvie that they had all become close.

You sighed. None of this answered why Hoseok was so fearful of Yoongi now. They started their empire together, so Hoseok clearly hadn't had any qualms about the lifestyle back then. Why the sudden change? Curiosity burned in the back of your mind, 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 out, 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, 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 black Nissan parked at the curb instead of the sleek red one you two had ridden to the fair in. He switched cars like he switched underwear.

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. What the hell was with this attitude? He was acting like a total child, and for the sake of your own sanity, you refused to let it go on for another second.

“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 back 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, desperately trying not to smile at the awaited compliment. “You’re an asshole, you’re aware of that, right?”

“Extremely.”

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. “It’s so degrading.”

“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. 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 nauseated you. 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…’

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, my girl surely is somethin',” the raven said, casually resting his arm along the back of the couch behind you. You looked over at him, the urge to correct him and say you weren't his girl rising up, but you chose to let it slide for now, not wanting to make this uncomfortable.

You instantly 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 find innocence sexy,” 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, just 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, snatching the blunt from Yoongi, which didn’t tear away the raven’s gaze. 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 his 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 a 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. You hadn’t even heard her sneak behind you.

“So what?” 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. Do you recall? Or were you too fucked up that night?”

You whipped back around to face her. “I'm not into him,” 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. Once he gets what he wants from you, then leaves you heartbroken, you’re gonna wish you listened to me.”

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 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, his riveted look causing you to fidget.

“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 chest 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 beat, 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 mention his first encounter with Joon instantly brought you back to Hoseok. You wanted to tell him about your neighbor’s crazy rambling, but you couldn't bring yourself to ruin the tranquil mood. The peace was too fragile; the second Hoseok’s name was even uttered, Yoongi’s entire demeanor would sour.

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, but these past few days, everything has felt entirely off between you two.

You felt... bored. Like the excitement was lost in the three months of dating. Maybe it took meeting someone like Yoongi to realize that.

“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 before she passed,” 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 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. “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 to 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. “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.

“Say my name again.”

“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 said, 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.

“You’re so wet 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. “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. 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 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 girl, 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 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, drips out of you and pools onto the already damp cushions beneath your hips.

“Look at that,” Yoongi whispered, a low rumble of 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, princess” He praises.

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.

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.

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He groans, mumbling angrily, in a language you don't understand, while you just stare at him with wide eyes, shaking. Your brain is working on overdrive, the gears turning probably visible to your uninvited guest.

“What?” you stutter, before your mind finally starts to connect some puzzle pieces. 

You tried to conjure up Kimchi, just for shits and giggles, obviously not expecting this stupid ritual to work. The man in front of you looks to be of Asian descent. Did you actually summon a Korean man instead of Korean food? Again, what the fuck?!

He rolls his eyes at you before his gaze falls to the red chopsticks in his right hand and groans. He snips his fingers. “Ugh, of course.” His language has switched to an annoyed English now.

"For fuck's sake," he grumbles, "I was just sitting down to have lunch." He looks towards the floor, a bowl of spilt fried rice at his feet and on your carpet. Some is even stuck to his shoe. He shakes it off like a cat that accidentally got its paw wet. 

“Lunch? It’s 11 pm.” 

Why are you even questioning him? His dietary choices and when he eats his meals should be the least of your concerns, when you have no idea what just happened and how he appeared in your apartment. Maybe he’s doing intermittent fasting. None of your business anyway. 

Okay, you might have some idea on how it happened actually, but that would defeat everything you believe - or rather don't believe in.

The guy just rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head with an annoyed frown, as if it’s not him intruding on you. “Not where I’m from.”

The hell? Where exactly is he from? A different timezone then? “Korea, by chance?” you carefully try, not entirely believing this is a conversation you're actually having. This can't be happening.

“Not exactly.” 

Vague. Bitter. Rude. He’s not helping you understand any of this. 

“What do you want?” he asks, fingers curling around his chopsticks, making his knuckles turn even whiter than his skin. 

Huh? “What do you want?” you ask. “Why are you here and what the fuck is going on?”

He clicks his tongue, eyes fixed to the floor with his head hanging low, long black hair falling forward. “You summoned me.” He looks up at you now, brows knitted as he cocks his head to the side, studying you. “So you tell me why I’m here. It's not even your time yet.” 

“My time?” Seriously, this guy must be insane! “Are you the grim reaper?”

“Worse,” he says with a grin, mocking you with his perfectly feline features. 

He’s beginning to piss you off… Why can't he just explain himself like a normal person? You shake your head with a huff. “What then? The devil?”

“Not quite as bad,” he shoots back. 

You stare at him, irritated and still very much confused. Okay, last try before you jump him and stab him with his chopsticks. “I don’t know, uh…” You motion with your hand, while pondering. “A fucking demon?”

“Correct,” he nods, twirling the red utensils between his fingers.

“You… You’re joking, right?” You stammer, dumbfounded, and finally take a moment to properly take in the guy standing before you. 

He observes you with an amused expression now instead of the scowl from before while you eye him up and down, desperately trying to form a coherent thought. 

The dude doesn't look like a demon at all, the most extraordinary thing about him being a bright red scar going vertically from his forehead down across his eye, though sparing the skin there and continuing down to his cheek. It stands out, contrasting his milky white skin. 

His black hair is long-ish, down to his shoulders almost. Some of the slightly wavy strands keep falling into his face, making him brush his hand through his hair an obnoxious amount of times. 

You almost scoff at the open hawaiian-print shirt he’s wearing over a fucking wifebeater. Some necklaces are dangling against his chest. You scan further down over the ripped black jeans exposing his knees, to the stompy black boots he’s sporting. 

You were probably staring a bit too hard - what the fuck are you judging his outfit for, this is not the situation for it - and he snaps his ring-clad fingers, bringing you back to reality. 

“You’re seriously trying to tell me demons are real and they are dressed,” you motion your hand towards his casual look, “like this?”

“What, you got an issue with my clothes?” He cocks an eyebrow. 

“It’s just not what I would have expected, I guess?” Yeah, you didn't imagine demons would look effortlessly cool, much less hot. Great, you’re apparently getting the hots for intruding hell monsters now. You rake through your memories, trying to recall if you hit your head recently, because what the fuck. 

He puts the chopsticks into the backpocket of his jeans, then rubs his hands together before bringing them to his mouth. Fingers interlaced with an opening between his thumbs and pointer fingers, he blows a breath between them with a slow exhale, like he’s cold. Your confusion must be obvious when he regards you. “What? It’s a bit warmer where I’m from… Now, before I leave, how the hell did you manage to summon a demon when you didn't even know they existed?”

Well… Funny story actually. You had friends over, had a couple of glasses together and someone whipped out the dusty old ouija board from the back of your wardrobe. You were playing around, acting scared while you all knew one of you probably moved the planchette to Yes intentionally when Nicole asked if her ex’s hairline would start receding soon. 

You had looked up some stuff on how to use it properly and had engaged in a quick discussion with ChatGPT about different supernatural topics then, that you resumed once your friends left. 

“I um… actually tried to conjure some kimchi for fun,” you explain, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, scratching the back of your neck while looking at the floorboards instead of his face. “ChatGPT gave me instructions and I thought it's just some bullshit, you know.” You look up at him now, his brows in a slight frown before you go on, “Do you even know what ChatGPT is?”

Another contemptuous scowl. “Duh, of course. Where do you think it originated? One of my boss's better ideas to be honest.” A faint smile spreads on his face. “Making people even dumber while draining the worlds’ resources at the same time? Genius.”

Oh. When Nicole said AI was an invention straight from hell you didn't think she was literally correct. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna head back now. You wasted enough of my designated lunch break. Don’t do that shit again, okay?”

“Do I not get three wishes or something, at least?”

He smirks, popping a middle finger at you all smug and snips his fingers. And then - nothing happens. Like, at all. He’s just standing there, staring at his right hand, then at the other one that’s still flipping you off and back at you with wide eyes. He drops his arms and snips again. Unsuccessfully.

“Um,” you grimace. “Was something supposed to happen, or?” Somehow his apparent performance issues are giving you second-hand embarrassment. 

“Do you have stage fright?” You grin now, his cool demeanour visibly crumbling before you. “Just imagine me in my underwear or something if it helps.”

“Can you please shut up for a second?” he snaps at you. 

You lift both your hands up in a dismissive apology, but decide to stop teasing him and keep quiet instead. Seems like something’s really off, he’s started pacing around the room now, circling the spilt fried rice still on the floor, while mumbling unintelligible words to himself. “What ritual did you perform exactly?” he suddenly asks, whirling around to face you. 

You decide to finally leave your spot on the floor and just as you turn towards the couch for leverage, the demon reaches his hand out towards you to help you up, impatiently. You allow him to pull you up with a firm grip, the weirdly cold metal of his rings digging into your skin. “I um, I’m not really sure,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “Was my first ever ritual, you know?” 

“Ugh, Christ,” he hisses, opening his palm in front of you. “Gimme your phone then. Fucking AI bullshit.” 

“Are you even allowed to use that word?” you ask, earning you nothing but a stern look and a wiggle of his outstretched fingers. “Damn, here.” You unlock your phone, open the diabolical™️ app and hand it to him.

He reads the instructions, brows rising slightly as he takes in the information, then nods once. His eyes shoot up to yours, judging you. “You humans are going to need a step by step guide on how to breathe soon, too? Pathetic.”

You silently pray he's not going to scroll further up to find out the embarrassingly mundane things you looked up before and prove his point.

“Anything else?” you bite back, holding up your palm now, waiting for him to hand back your phone. “Found what you’re looking for?”

When he doesn’t answer you reach out and try to snatch it back from his grip, but he’s faster, moving it out of reach as he takes a step back. “Yes. And more.” He smirks now, reading your past conversations with ChatGPT out loud. “American jello salad recipe? Ew, don’t tell me you actually made that.”

“I did not,” you protest, chasing after him while trying to yank your phone away from him.

“‘Roast me based on everything you know about me’? You let it do that for free? Is that a special kind of humiliation kink you got going on there?”

“No, because I would love this situation at hand then, which I can promise you I do not!” You pout, defeated, which apparently looks pitiful enough for the demon to have mercy on you and finally hand you back your little gadget of shame.

At least now you know that he wasn't lying about being from hell. You lock your phone and pocket it as more embarrassment spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. That absolute spawn of Satan…

He doesn’t give you time to dwell on it though, as he’s looking around the living room and makes his way to the kitchen in the corner. “I need salt,” he says as he’s rummaging through your cabinets. “Do you mind?”

“You think now's the time for a snack?”

He scoffs, having found it himself before rolling his eyes at you. 

“Would you stop bullshitting and grab some candles?” he demands, obviously in a hurry to get the fuck out of here.

Since you’re also keen on him leaving as soon as possible, or waking up from this weird dream you’re obviously having, you head for the drawer immediately. “How many do you need?” you ask. “Any scent you prefer?”

He stands in the middle of your living room, pack of salt in hand and yet another frown on his face. “Scent? I just need regular candles. Five of them.”

Who owns unscented candles…? You shrug to yourself, grabbing random ones to hand them over. “You’re gonna have to work with pumpkin spice and lavender fields I’m afraid.”

He’s struggling to hold all of them at once and starts placing the candles in a strange formation on the ground. Before putting the last one down though, he takes a closer look at the label. “Mountain lodge? Now what the fuck would that smell like…” 

He brings the glass rim closer to his nose, immediately regretting his decision as his face scrunches up in disgust. With the corners of his mouth downturned, you can see him suppressing a gag.

“That one was a gift,” you lie, trying to justify that foul smelling candle.

“Sure,” he coughs out after collecting himself, holding the candle as far away from his face as the length of his arm allows. “Must have been a gift from your archenemy judging by that stench.”

“God, shut up.” You pick up a white candle from the floor - the one with the pretty lid - and bring it to his face. “Smell that one to even it out.”

He lifts a brow in suspicion, obviously not trusting you after being assaulted by mountain lodge, but leans in anyway. “Oh.”

“See?” you chuckle. “Fresh cotton. My favorite.”

“That one’s… alright, I guess.”

“It’s perfect. Not just alright.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbles while snatching the candle out of your hand, giving it another sniff before setting it back down on the ground. 

He nudges your shoulder to move you out of the way without an explanation. There's a snarky remark sitting readily on your tongue, but you decide to keep it to yourself for once, so you just huff and cross your arms across your chest, waiting to see what he's going to do next from the sidelines.

He starts pouring the salt on your (freshly vacuumed and wiped) hardwood floor, creating a pentagram out of the granules. Each point of the star touches a candle as he moves the bag of salt around in one fluid motion.

“So you just know that ritual by heart, or what?” you ask, tapping your foot impatiently.

“I mean yeah, that’s kind of my job.”

“Will this thing erupt into flames and ruin my floorboards? I just cleaned them today by the way. If I lose my deposit because of you, I’m gonna summon you again to pay for it.”

The demon stares you down now, dark eyes narrowing. “If you do that, I’ll burn down the entire apartment complex.”

He wouldn’t do that. Would he? Oh shit. “I-”

“Do you ever not talk?” he interrupts you, shuffling around in his salty star formation, wafting some of the grains across the floor from the movement. “Now let me finish this. Actually, go on and help me. Light the candles so I can concentrate on getting the hell out of here.”

You scurry to grab the lighter from a side table before moving around the room to ignite the wicks. Just as you are about to pick up the first one, fresh cotton, he interrupts you.

“Leave them on the floor, you'll mess up the formation.”

Rolling your eyes, you begrudgingly comply and crouch down. The motherfucker is smirking, you can see it at the edge of your line of vision as you set the first candle aflame while he just stands there, hands in his pockets. 

You scuffle about, lighting wick after wick until your lighter runs hot. So when you reach the last unlit candle, mountain lodge, you burn your thumb trying to roll the spark wheel. Hissing, you wave your hand around, trying to get the pain to subside. Fuck it, it's not like you're too stupid to put the candle back down in the same spot, so you grab it and straighten your legs back out to stand up.

“Did I not tell you to leave them on the ground?” the demon sighs and steps closer to you, once again brushing his hair out of his face. What an annoying habit.

“Ever thought about just cutting your hair?” With your thumb still hurting, you just can't get the damn lighter to spark a flame, making you increasingly frustrated.

He reaches for mountain lodge, but you're dead set on lighting the fucking candle yourself, so you refuse to let go, still struggling with the lighter in your other hand.

He just huffs and lets you hold on to it before he points his finger towards the wick, which immediately ignites as if by magic. The demon lifts the finger to his mouth and blows on it like a cowboy in a cheap western movie.

“Are you kidding me?” you groan. “You could do that the whole time and still had me crouching on the floor like an idiot?”

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “You were so nice and quiet for once, all concentrated.”

Debating if you should knock him over the head with mountain lodge, you step closer, holding the burning candle directly under his nose.

“Fire doesn’t hurt me, if you’re trying to get back at me. The smell’s enough of a  punishment though.” He opens up his palm. “Give me that.”

“Stop bossing me around. I'm perfectly capable of putting it down myself,” you retort and try to move the candle out of his reach. 

“As capable as you were summoning kimchi?” he mocks, moving closer into your space to grip the stinky glass container.

Both too stubborn to let the other have their way, you scuffle around, pulling and pushing the candle between your hands. 

“Fucking hell,” he mutters when he finally manages to snatch it from your fingers and bends down to place it back in the corner of the pentagram. “If you mess this up I’m going to have to start again from scratch!”

You just pout in defeat, watching him step into the middle of the formation and mumble unintelligible words with his eyes closed. 

Guess this nuisance of a demon will finally piss off now. You already dread the clean up of the mess he made on the floor. 

After a last brush through his hair - ugh - he snaps his fingers again. This time, something happens. A lot happens actually. The whole room spins and turns, whirling you around in a nauseating pace until you lose your footing. Oh shit, it’s not the room that’s spinning - it’s you! The candles are levitating around you, flying about and barely missing your head, while you writhe back and forth like a leaf caught in a storm. You close your eyes and scream, shielding your face with your arms. When an unknown objects hits your elbow, you reach out panicking - grabbing onto whatever you can with both hands. Something solid ends up in your left and something soft in your right. You don’t dare to open your eyes, so you just grip on for dear life in hopes to find your balance again.

You feel your right hand being squeezed as you try to convince yourself that this surely is just a nightmare. It has to be. Your own fingers tighten around whatever's in them, your mind too jumbled to figure out what you're even holding on to.

With a sudden thump there’s solid ground under your feet again. It takes you a second to comprehend that you have stopped being spun around. Your knees give out from under you but before you can fall down, you’re being pulled up by your hand to keep you steady. When you open your eyes with careful blinks, your vision blurry from pressing them shut for so long, you slowly come back to your senses. He’s there - whatever his name is - looking at you, lips agape in slight shock. You shake your head as if it’s going to make him disappear. 

You are interrupted when you feel your fingers being squeezed, so hard it borders on painful, as warm metal pushes into your skin. It’s the damned rings of his, you realise when you look down. The rings that are around his fingers. The fingers that are intertwined with yours!

You immediately let go, yanking your hand out of his grip, as if the touch had burned you, at the same time also releasing whatever you were holding in your other, not having paid any mind to it until it hits the floor with a thud and rolls away.

“What the fuck?” you hear an unknown voice echo around you.

“What’s going on?” another voice sounds.

“Fuck, quick, get Namjoon,” someone calls out before you hear footsteps scurrying away.

As you turn around to see who the hell else is intruding on you in your apartment now, you catch on that you are in fact not at home anymore. What is this place? Where are you? And how in the world did you even get here? Panicked, you turn to the only set of eyes staring at you that you know, silently asking for an explanation, since the shock of apparently having just been teleported to fuck knows where left you speechless.

“Oh shit,” the demon whispers, eyes wide and hair disheveled, immediately reaching up to brush it out of his face once again. The familiarity of the irritating gesture somehow stops your mind from going in circles. At least one thing hasn’t changed, he’s still the annoying bitch he was a few minutes ago. You take a deep breath to ground yourself when you hear unintelligible mumbles getting closer to you, accompanied by hurried steps reverberating off the floorboards, making you whip around towards the direction of the sounds. 

“Yoongi, what did you do this time?” the guy that's rushing into the room asks. 

Okay, so the demon’s name is Yoongi. Strange. Cute. Doesn't fit him. You were expecting something along the lines of Beelzebub.

“Yeah, what did you do?” you demand to know, wanting nothing more than to get back home.

“Oh,” another person says. He’s tall and pretty and wears a lip piercing. “It can speak.” He looks at you with the same disdain that you return straight back to him, after what he just called you.

“It?” you repeat, shocked and on the verge of losing it. “Motherf-”

“Okay, everybody calm down!” The guy who just addressed your demon as Yoongi interrupts your squabble. “Jeongguk, sit down and be quiet.”

Jeongguk, the asshole, does as he’s told, scoffing and biting his lip as if he has to hold himself back from talking more shit. He's plopping down on a big leather couch, eyeing you as if your mere existence is offensive to him. 

“You two,” the guy with the firm voice looks at you and Yoongi. “An explanation please.”

“What are you asking me for?” you snap back, pissed off by the implied accusation. “I have no idea what the fuck happened.”

“Me neither,” Yoongi sighs as he sits down next to Jeongguk, who scoots over to make room. “She summoned me by accident and I had to do the pentagram ritual to get back. She must have messed with it or something.”

“You think I tried to come with you or what?! I wanted you to fucking leave as much as you did. Maybe you messed up your weird candle routine!”

“Ah, so that’s what you dropped,” another stranger speaks as he bends down to reach for something beneath the coffee table. “I’m Hoseok, by the way.” He picks up the candle you apparently brought with you and inspects it closely. “Mountain lodge?”

“No, don’t!” Yoongi calls out, reaching out his arm in warning.

Too late, Hoseok sticks his nose into the candle. The room falls silent. His eyebrows rise. In delight?! “Wow, I love that! You mind if I keep it?”

Yoongi groans in disbelief.

“Um, sure,” you tell him. At least this one is somewhat polite.

“Thank you!” he says like he means it. “And what’s your name?”

You tell him, while the other five are still staring at you. 

Finally having a second to take in your surroundings, you see that you landed in some kind of grand living room. The walls are made of exposed stone, the floorboards are wooden and look expensive but old and worn. Above you, there’s a giant chandelier dangling from the ceiling. Did you spawn into fucking Dracula’s castle?! Maybe Yoongi sleeps in a coffin, that would explain his shitty attitude. Do demons even sleep? Your mind starts to spiral again, panic threatening to take over. 

Just as your head begins to spin, you are startled by someone gently touching your arm. 

“Hey, calm down,” someone addresses you with a soft voice. You whip around and find the guy who stopped Jeongguk and you from getting into a fist fight. He's smiling at you, as if to reassure you. “My name’s Namjoon.”

Namjoon stands taller than Yoongi, his body more substantial in general. His hair is kind of spiky, tousled, and the ends are a bit lighter. He's dressed in a baggy sweater, but his jeans are fitted nicely to his thighs. 

“You already had the pleasure with Yoongi and Jeongguk then,” he says with an exasperated raise of his brows. “Hoseok introduced himself by stealing your stuff, dashing as always.” Namjoon turns around, addressing the other two guys still standing behind him. “That leaves Jimin and Taehyung.”

They step closer, both with looks of quiet disbelief on their faces, yet the taller of the two at least forces a smile. He raises his hand and offers you a small wave. “Hi, I’m Taehyung.” 

God, he’s cute. His voice contrasts his looks, all soft and airy - not nearly as harsh as you would have expected it to be - considering his muscles, clad in black leather and silver chains. 

You don't really know why he looks like he's one of the Village People, all the others are casually dressed. Maybe that's just his personal style. Or he's a biker. 

“And I’m Jimin,” the last of them says with a nod of his head. His blonde hair is kind of fried from bleaching, long strands that fall to his shoulders, giving him an 80s glam rock vibe. Not in a bad way though, it really suits him. Actually, he looks quite ethereal. 

Damn, why is everyone here good-looking? Even that dickhead Jeongguk, now that you give him another once-over. 

“Want a picture for later?” he snarls at you with venom in his voice. 

“For a voodoo doll, maybe, yeah,” you counter before Yoongi stops a fight from breaking out by slapping Jeongguk's shoulder. 

“Just shut your bratty mouth for once, would you?” he grumbles and you’re not sure if he’s addressing Jeongguk or you. “Both of you, actually.”

Well, that solves that riddle. You pout, just like Jeongguk did earlier when he was told off.

“So,” Namjoon claps his hands together once, looking at you. “Now that we’re all acquainted, we should try bringing you back.”

“Okay, yes,” you nod. Finally someone is trying to solve this. “How?”

“Well, Yoongi brought you with him, so I figure one of us could just take you back the same way.” 

Wait. They’re all like him? Demons? Is he serious? They seem to notice you catching on, watching you with amused expressions.

Jeongguk snorts. “Wow, quick thinker, huh?”

Jesus, does this idiot ever shut up?

“Okay, whatever, just get me home, please.”

Namjoon steps closer to you and holds out his hand. You grab it without hesitation because you just want to get the fuck out of here already. Let this nightmarish experience end. 

“Just think of where you want to go,” he tells you and you immediately picture the comfort of your own living room.

He closes his eyes and before you can even blink, your hand is suddenly empty and Namjoon is gone. Nothing happened to you, no whirlwind sucking you away. You stare at your hand holding on to nothing before snapping your head back up.

The others perked up at this as well, eyeing each other silently. Shit, this doesn't bode well. 

Yoongi sighs and gets up from the couch. Guess he'll try next. “Maybe it has to be me?”

He offers you his hand without looking at you. 

Please, please let it work, you silently pray as you take hold of his palm. A second later - poof - Yoongi's gone too and you're still standing in that same spot. Desperation is taking over you at this point, tears threatening to well up at the thought that you're goddamn stuck here. 

“Anyone else, please?!” you plead, looking around the room.

“Let’s wait till Yoongi and Joon come back,” Hoseok says while leading you to sit down on the couch where Jeongguk makes an act of dramatically scooting away as far as possible from you. 

“Just for a bit, and then we will try too, okay?” Hoseok pats your arm somewhat awkwardly. 

“Don't worry, we don't want you to stay here either,” Jeongguk chimes in, picking at his cuticles like he has no care in the world. 

“You want a drink while we wait?” Taehyung asks with his hands in his pockets. “Or something to eat?”

No, you really don’t want a drink, you want to go home, and your appetite for kimchi from earlier has vanished the second Yoongi appeared before you. 

You put your head in your hands and just lift your eyes again when Taehyung puts a glass of what you guess is water down in front of you anyway with an apologetic smile. 

“Hey,” Jimin addresses you now, pulling you out of your wallowing. “It’s gonna be fine, they'll figure it out, alright?”

“Where are we right now exactly?” you ask, already dreading the answer and that they're probably not going to be able to drive you home with a car either. 

“Guess,” Jeongguk grins. “Look out the window if you must.”

With him there, it's got to be your own personal hell, you think while trying to locate a window. When your eyes finally snap to a glass panel in the stone wall, all you see is black. You try to focus on the outside and realise there are what look to be flames or a fire in the distance. The darkness is tinged slightly orange by it. 

“You’re trying to tell me this is real?” you ask. “You’re all demons and we’re in literal hell?”

“Home sweet home, baby,” Jeongguk merely chuckles at your misery.

You’d slap him if you weren’t so close to tears. What did you do to deserve this? Yes, you’ve probably sinned a lot, but not more than anyone else and certainly less than some people you know. And you don’t even believe in the concept of sin. Why you? 

You'll never use ChatGPT again. That fuckass app. Maybe it's actually the downfall of humanity. 

You groan in defeat, face buried in your hands, when Namjoon and Yoongi suddenly pop back into the room. Everyone looks at them in suspense, eyeing them expectantly.

“It’s not looking good,” Namjoon exhales as he dusts off his shoulder with a flick of his hand.

Not looking good? What does that mean? Not good as in eternal hellfire, or more like a few hours of being grilled?

“Not good, meaning what exactly?” Jeongguk speaks your thoughts into existence. “Don’t tell me we are stuck with that stray.” To give his words more weight, he looks you up and down with disgust.

As much as you’d like to call him a bitch right now, you actually couldn’t give less of a fuck about what he’s saying. You need to know what the two found out in your apartment.

Namjoon disperses the hostile moment when he finally starts to explain what they learned. 

“You two smudged the salt on the floor. Yoongi told me you bickered about something, maybe one of you messed with the pentagram then. That must be why the ritual went all kinds of wrong,” he concludes. 

Yoongi meets your eye and you look at each other sternly for a moment. You know he wants to blame you, just as much as you have him to blame. But since everyone here would probably be on his side anyway, you decide to be the bigger person for once and don’t announce your thoughts. “Okay, um,” you begin. “So is there another way I can be brought back?”

“Not that we know of,” Yoongi shakes his head.

“The others should try bringing you back too though, just so we can be sure,” Namjoon says. “If it doesn’t work, which I expect, I’ll have to figure out a different solution.”

“Okay, well, who's up next?” you stand up and ask into the room, impatient. You are already holding out your hand to be grabbed by whoever when Hoseok, the mountain lodge enthusiast, takes hold of it.

“Let’s try this again,” he half-smiles at you, not really convincing you that his outlook’s that optimistic either, but you are still somewhat thankful for his hesitant reassurance. 

When Hoseok also vanishes without you, you cry out in frustration before waving your fingers at Jimin.

“Your turn, please,” you urge him to have a go, all hope you had to go home slowly dissipating.

While Hoseok reappears with a sigh, Jimin reaches for your hand. 

“Please get me out of here,” you whisper with tears in your eyes now. Jimin grimaces at your words, obviously not anticipating a better outcome, but he tries nonetheless. To no avail, as you find out a second later when he too leaves you standing there with empty fingers. 

Taehyung steps closer before you say anything, a boyish smile on his face with his eyes looking at the floor. “I’ll try, promise,” he says as he gently takes your hand in his. 

You hear a quiet swish and he's gone too. Fuck. Him and Jimin return a moment later and you realise that your last chance at going home is sulking on the sofa, checking out his nailbeds again.

“Don’t be an ass,” Hoseok scoffs at Jeongguk's behaviour and pulls him from the couch. 

“Ugh, fine,” he complies with a roll of his eyes, moving as slowly as he possibly can. 

For someone who wants you to leave as urgently as he announced, he’s really not putting in any effort to make it happen. When he stretches out his hand with his face turned to the side, looking at Namjoon and not you, you think that you should probably send him to a dumpster instead of your living room. You swallow down a laugh as you think of that place and imagine him coming back covered in dirt, a banana peel on his shoulder and twigs sticking out from his hair.

Jeongguk pulls back his hand from you, squinting at you in abhorrence. “Can’t imagine your place looks that much different,” he says with a shake of his head. “But actually, fuck off. You just blew your last chance.”

He turns around on his heels and stomps out of the room. You can hear a door being slammed shut in the distance. Fucking brat.

“What did you do?” Jimin asks.

“Thought about sending him to a dumpster, but only for a second,” you explain. “It just came to me because he’s so mean and annoying. I wasn’t really going to do it.”

Someone snorts, Taehyung you think, as you turn around to check and find him grinning with his head turned away from the others. 

“I doubt it would have worked anyway,” Yoongi says. “Even if you hadn't pissed him off.”

Wait a moment. How did Jeongguk even know you were contemplating sending him to a garbage dump? 

“Don’t tell me Jeongguk can read my mind. He can’t, right?!” You look around between the others, scared.

“Nah,” Yoongi sighs. “It’s just when travelling. Or trying to. We can see the desired destination of the other person if we’re not picturing it ourselves.”

Why is all that demon shit so god damn complicated? And what does that mean now? You’re stuck here, in hell, with all those imps, until the tallest demon figures ‘something’ out?

A wave of nausea washes over you before your knees give out and you crumble to the floor, panic taking over again. You can't hold back your tears now anymore either, they roll down your cheeks in streams while you hyperventilate. This can't be true.

Someone is crouching next to you, stroking your back, no doubt in an attempt to get you to calm down. How the fuck are you supposed to calm down when you're imprisoned in literal hell? And what about Lucy? He’ll starve without you!

“My cat!” you wail. “My cat’s still up there. He’ll die, oh my god, my baby will die.” 

“Breathe,” you hear Jimin next to you, his hand still on your back. “He’s going to be fine. We, uh, we can go and pick him up.”

You slump forward on to your hands, exhausted but relieved at Jimin’s words. “You can?” you ask, sniffling and trying to catch your breath. 

“Sure,” he nods, looking around at the others. “We wanted to get ourselves a pet anyway.”

“I can get him,” Taehyung says. “Boss, will you come too? You’re always good with animals.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Yoongi exhales quietly.

Yoongi is their boss? Or is that just a stupid nickname? You eye him, shorter and of less substance than all the others. Huh. You assumed Namjoon was their demon leader. He seems like the brain of this clan.

“Why haven’t I seen a cat in your apartment though?” Yoongi asks you.

“Because he doesn’t like men, usually hides under the couch when strangers are there and his fur is black.”

“Ah, perfect,” he sighs. “Anything else we should know? What’s his name?”

“You should be able to lure him out with treats from the cabinet above the fridge. He likes to be picked up with a hand under his belly. Hold him so that his front paws can rest on your shoulder. He doesn’t like to be held like a baby. And his name is Lucy.”

“Lucy? For a male cat?”

Oh god. You didn't even realise until now. “Um yeah. It’s short for… Lucifer.”

“Of course it is.”

Taehyung actually throws his head back and laughs wholeheartedly at this revelation.

“You got a thing for devilish stuff, huh?” Jimin grins. 

Taehyung is still giggling when he links his arm with Yoongi and they once again vanish into thin air. 

Hoseok helps you off the floor and walks you into another room while you wipe the tear stains off your cheeks with your sleeve. He sits you down at a big dining table, surrounded by seven chairs. 

“Do you like kimchi fried rice?” he asks you. “Jeongguk made some earlier. You must be hungry from all that excitement.”

You want to decline at first but then your stomach audibly growls. Maybe you are hungry. “Thank you,” you quietly say before Hoseok steps out. 

Namjoon enters the room, your glass of water from earlier in hand and puts it down in front of you before he takes a seat as well. “I’m gonna try to find out how we can fix this as soon as possible, alright?”

You nod and look at the glass in front of you, hesitant to take a sip. Who knows what kind of stuff they have instead of normal water here?

“It’s safe to consume,” Namjoon chuckles. “I swear.”

You pick it up, trying to sniff it discreetly, so as not to offend him. When you can’t make out any weird odour, you take a tentative sip. Only now do you notice how parched you are. Dried up like a raisin actually, so you gulp the rest of the water down in one go. 

“Can I ask you something?” you direct at Namjoon. “I have so many questions actually.”

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you all… or most of you, actually nice to me? I thought a demon’s job would be torturing people and stuff.”

Namjoon laughs softly, shaking his head. “We do have jobs. It’s not exactly torturing though. And we were people too, once. So we’re not born evil or anything, if that’s what you thought.”

Okay, that makes sense. Jeongguk was probably a huge asshole as a human too. “What is your job then?”

“Collecting souls.”

Oh. So that’s why Yoongi knew it wasn’t your time yet. “That means… killing people?”

“Sometimes. Mostly it’s just convincing stupid people to do more stupid stuff though. And then pluck their souls and bring them down here.”

“Okay.” You listen intently with raised eyebrows.

“It’s pretty shitty people overall though. Sinners. Boss doesn’t have much need for decent souls here. They don’t fuel the fire as well.”

“Boss as in Yoongi?”

“No, boss as in Yoongi’s boss.”

“The devil then?”

“A kind of devil. There’s levels of management so to speak.”

Oh god. Corporate even reaches down to hell. Typical. Actually, that’s the least surprising thing you’ve learned. 

“What’s this boss’s name then?”

“Bang Si-hyuk.”

Okay, that doesn’t tell you anything. You nod anyway.

“People call him Bang PD sometimes.” 

“PD for… Prime Devil?”

Namjoon laughs, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.

“So that makes Yoongi mid-management, then?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Oh, the guy has it bad…

“Okay, another question please.”

Namjoon nods, amused.

“Are all of you Korean?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” 

He looks at you with a raised brow.

“Sorry if that was offensive. But like… I don’t know how to word it better. Why are the only people in hell Korean?”

“We’re not the only people in hell,” he tells you with a lopsided grin. “We’re just a department that happens to be Korean. The Japanese are down the road actually.”

Oh. You landed yourself in corporate hell. Great. As if you haven't been trying to avoid just that at all costs your entire adulthood. 

“Anything else you want to know?”

You hesitate, wondering if you're about to cross a line. But you're just too curious.

“How did all of you end up down here, working for the devil?”

Namjoon sighs and you can tell he's trying to find the right words.

“Let's just say we were young and dumb, we made mistakes in the past. Trusted the wrong people. Got caught in a contract we can’t get out of,” he sputters out before he stands up from his chair, turning towards the door just as Hoseok returns with a bowl of steaming food. 

Guess that concludes the Q&A then. Namjoon’s been so forthcoming with answering all your questions, you feel a little bad for making him uncomfortable with that last inquiry. “Thank you for your patience,” you tell him while a delicious-looking dish of kimchi fried rice is placed in front of you.

“This has been a lot,” Hoseok states while sitting down next to you. “Eat. It will make you feel better.” 

You pick up the chopsticks and shove a bite into your mouth. It's delicious. So Jeongguk is good for something after all. Maybe that's why they tolerate his attitude.

Hoseok smiles, watching you clear the bowl down to the last kernel of rice. “JK’s a great cook. I know he's been giving you shit, but please don't take it to heart.”

“Why is he such an ass anyway?” you ask Hoseok after swallowing down your last bit of food.

Hoseok laughs. “Don't know if you can tell, but emotions are on another level here. You get used to it after a while, but Jeongguk still struggles with anger from time to time. The trust issues aren’t helping either unfortunately.”

So, a demon with anger problems that obviously does not like you. Lovely combination.

“From what I saw, you can handle him though,” he concludes.

“Are you calling me a bitch?” you chuckle. 

“No, girl, I'm calling you feisty.”

It's the first time you feel some semblance of ease since you landed down here. The relaxation only lasts a second though as you hear a thump from the living room. Both of you get up to investigate, as the sounds surprise you.

When you step into the room, Yoongi and Taehyung are standing there, surrounded by what seems to be every single cat toy you had in your apartment as well as a bag of litter granules and dozens of cans of food. Oh, that's why their return was so noisy. The cat food is rolling around on the floor, some of it is still in Taehyung's arms. 

“Boss insisted on bringing all this stuff back with us,” he grimaces as he watches more things slip from his grip and tumble away. 

At first, you don't see Lucy, wondering if they left him up there for a second. When you take a closer look at Yoongi though, you spot your cat, nestled against his chest, paws on his left shoulder, just as you instructed. Yoongi apparently swaddled his Hawaiian print shirt over Lucy, so he wouldn’t jump off immediately, one arm wrapped around his little body for support. He’s gripping the cat bed you had sitting beside your couch in his other hand, letting it fall to the ground to scratch Lucy’s chin. The damn cat is purring. He never let a man get close before and now he’s purring at a mid-management demon? Traitor. The name definitely fits.

Yoongi smiles at their newfound pet before his soft expression fades when he notices you watching him. 

“Huh, Lucy likes you,” you mumble.

“Told you he's good with pets,” Tae comments while picking up stray cans around the room.

Yoongi doesn’t acknowledge the praise and shrugs before carefully setting Lucy down on the ground. The cat chirps and his tail quivers for a second until he spots you and runs over happily, as if he hadn’t just been sucked down to the pits. You crouch down and let him rub his cheek against your knee, petting him behind his ears and earning a deep purr.

“So cute,” Hoseok gushes while reaching out his hand to let Lucy smell him.

You're so relieved to have your cat back with you, tears are welling up in your eyes. You shoot up from the floor and without thinking you throw your arms around Taehyung's neck.

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” you cry into his shoulder before realising what you are doing and immediately retreat from the embrace. 

Taehyung doesn't seem bothered by your surprise hug at all as he's just smiling, but you are still embarrassed by your outburst. With heated cheeks, you turn to Yoongi, nodding at him. “Thank you, really.”

Yoongi nods back, not quite meeting your eyes with his brows set in a weird expression of second-hand embarrassment before clearing his throat. “No problem.”

“Guess I'll put those in the pantry,” Taehyung announces, multiple cans stacked in his arms before walking out. 

Namjoon and Jimin enter the living room at the same time. “Kitty!” Jimin squeals loudly, which scares Lucy who immediately flees the premises and hides under the sofa. “Oh, sorry.”

“Come on, let's figure out some logistics,” Namjoon waves at you and leads Jimin with him by his shoulder, moving towards the dining room. 

“Just go with the others, I'll get him out from under the couch,” Yoongi dismisses you just as you are about to get down to the floor yourself.

“You don’t have to, I can get him,” you begin but he’s already kneeling, peeking under there with his head twisted and his hand outstretched. That guy loves cats, huh? Despite the fact that you hate being stuck here with your accidentally conjured up demon boss, you can’t deny how cute he looks when he acts like this. He even makes those ‘pspsps’ noises and you chuckle watching him.

His head whips around at your giggling and he glares at you. “Shoo,” he orders you to finally go join the others. 

Okay, he’s back to his very annoying self. Rolling your eyes at him, you turn away and trudge to the dining room. 

When you walk up to the table, Namjoon, Taehyung and Jimin are already sitting down. You move to take the seat next to Namjoon, when Hoseok comes up and stops you with a hand on your arm. 

“That's Yoongi's spot,” he explains and only then do you notice that you went for the chair at the head of the table. 

Oh, so they have like a proper hierarchy with rules and everything.

“Since Jin’s chair is free now, you can take his,” Namjoon tells you as he’s pointing to the one next to Yoongi’s.

Who the hell is Jin now? And what happened to him? You add it to the ever growing list of questions for later.

“I'm not going to lie, it might take me a while to find a way to get you back home,” Namjoon sighs once everyone's seated. “It's the first time we've run into this issue and I have to work through tons of literature.”

“What exactly do I have to expect in terms of a while?” you ask him, already worried you might not like the answer.

“Wish I could tell you. We actually have a spare room now, so I think it's best if you make yourself at home for now. Hoseok can show you.”

That means you’re probably not going to be able to show up at work on Monday. Which is not the worst fate to be honest. But what if it takes them months to figure it out? Will your friends and family think you got kidnapped? Will there be a police search? Fuck, your hands are getting clammy. “Okay,” you breathe out. “What about people at home worrying? They’ll think I died or got abducted or something.”

“Phones work here,” Namjoon says. “You should be able to call your family. Maybe don’t mention where you really are though. They’ll think you’ve lost it.”

You just look at him, dumbstruck until Taehyung chimes in, “Don’t act so surprised. Did you think we’re cavemen? We even have Netflix.”

“How? Just… how is that possible?” you ask.

Namjoon grins, “CEOs love to make deals with the devil. Anything’s possible in hell.”

You are interrupted trying to wrap your head around big corporations shaking hands with Satan when Yoongi enters the room, Lucy once again purring in his arms. 

“Stubborn, that one,” he lets you know.

“Just like his owner,” you hear him mutter when he walks past you to get to his chair.

Lucy curls up in his lap when he sits down, all cozy, nuzzled up to him. 

You ignore his comment and look at your traitorous cat for a moment before it suddenly dawns on you. Why do they all speak English so flawlessly? Is that a demon trait? Or are you being biased and rude again?

“I have another question. If you don't mind,” you quietly say while trying to find the most inoffensive way to word this. “How come all of you speak English so well?”

Well, that wasn't inoffensive at all. Shit. Your brows knit into a frown as you cringe at yourself. “Sorry.”

“We don't,” Jimin tells you. “I mean.. actually we do but it's complicated.”

“We speak most common languages,” Namjoon begins to explain. “Even Latin to some extent. That's one of the ‘gifts’ we got when signing our contracts. But right now, we're actually speaking in Korean.”

Huh? No they're not. How would you be able to understand them then?

“It's a spell,” Yoongi says with one elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand while petting Lucy with the other. “I didn't really feel like talking in English to you earlier when you summoned me.”

“So you put a translation spell on me?” you ask, honestly more intrigued than shocked. “Do I speak Korean in your heads then?” 

“Uh huh,” Hoseok nods. “Flawlessly too.”

Wow okay. So they have powers in addition to being able to fucking teleport. They speak a million languages and have demonic powers and live in hell. This is totally fine and normal and you shouldn't be disturbed at all. 

“You want me to show you your room now?” Hoseok asks, apparently noticing that you need a minute to process all of this. “I'll help you carry the cat stuff.”

He's already scurrying to collect the strewn about stuff Yoongi and Taehyung brought with them when you get up. You walk over to Yoongi to get Lucy, who's still contently chilling on him. It's a little awkward because you have to pick him up straight from Yoongi's crotch, which makes your heartbeat pick up a confusing notch. 

“Sorry,” you mumble while very deliberately and carefully maneuvering your hands around his lap, trying to avoid touching him in an inappropriate manner. Even though it's suddenly very tempting. Are you actually getting horny now for no reason? Hello?!

Yoongi just raises his eyebrows at you but doesn't say anything when you move Lucy off him without looking at him. 

Hoseok peeks in from behind the doorframe with a big toothy smile. “Come on Ari,” he invites you to follow him. 

Ari? You have to ask him about that later. 

He leads you upstairs and through a hallway with multiple doors to the sides, until he stops in front of the last one. 

“There we are,” he says. “Yoongi's is right next to yours. Me and all the others are also just a few doors down.”

He lets you into the room, putting Lucy's cushion down at the foot of the big bed while you look around. It doesn't look lived in, but it's not dusty at all. It looks freshly prepared for a guest actually, pillows all fluffed up and there's even a potted plant sitting on the windowsill, green and healthy. 

Hoseok looks slightly surprised too. 

“Oh. Must've been Yoongi.” 

“He cleans?” you wonder out loud. They have Yoongi clean the rooms? If so, they have their boss well trained.

“Not exactly,” Hoseok chuckles without giving any further explanations. Instead, he arranges Lucy's toys on the dresser.

“I'll leave you to get comfortable,” he bids you farewell. “I'll come and get you for dinner.”

You plop Lucy down onto the duvet before checking out the room further. 

The curtains are closed and when you pull them open, the same darkness from before looks back at you, straight into your soul.

Before the feeling of dread can take over, you put the fabric back to cover the soulcrushing black void up and turn your back to the window. 

There’s another door next to the dresser and when you open it, you find a nice little en-suite bathroom, complete with a bathtub, shower, a toilet and a sink. You can work with that. There’s even a simple litter box for Lucy in the corner. Did they have a cat before? 

Sighing, you sit down on the bed next to Lucy, scratching his ears. 

“Where did we land ourselves, huh?” you whisper to him while he snuggles up against your hand.

The whole thing is absolutely crazy, you realise once again… Demons are real, you got sucked down to hell and now you’re stuck in this ancient mansion with six Korean soul pluckers. Maybe you had a mental breakdown and are just going through psychosis or hallucinations at the moment. If not, hopefully Namjoon and the others will figure out how to bring you back home quickly. It could have been worse though. At least they seem to be willing to try and help you. They could have abandoned you and just kicked you out, now that you’re thinking about it. You shudder at the thought of being out there in that eerie darkness by yourself. Or in general.

And they made an effort to get Lucy. Demons really aren’t what you imagined them to be. But you also thought they didn't exist. And they are all attractive as fuck. Gosh, the bar is literally in hell. 

You let yourself fall back and land on the cushions with a soft thud. Are you actually just supposed to sit around and watch Netflix until you can go home? You might ask them for some books to read. Maybe they have a copy of ‘Hell for Dummies’. This gothic mansion definitely has a library. Or is that a cliché?

There are so many questions whirling through your head again, questions that google probably cannot answer. Thinking of it, you pull out your phone to check if it really works, like Namjoon told you. And he was right. There's a signal. Stronger than in your apartment actually. Which is quite embarrassing. 

Okay, so you should think of a story to tell your family and friends then. Maybe some quarter-life crisis that led you to leave the country for a while. A self-discovery journey. Something non-concerning. Thailand? 

Laying there with Lucy cuddled up to you, you can feel your eyes grow heavy. You didn't even notice how exhausted you are. With one last sigh your eyelids flutter shut and you doze off. Maybe when you open them the next time, this will all be over and you will wake up in your bed. 

A knock rips you from your restless slumber, you've been tossing and turning on the mattress, waking up facing a totally different direction than you feel asleep in. 

“We'll have dinner soon,” Hoseok's voice sounds through the door. “Come join us.”

Still a little out of it from your unplanned nap, you sit up, brushing through your hair with your fingers and rubbing your eyes. So you didn't magically teleport back home while you slept.

When you get up to walk to the dining room, Lucy hops down from the bed to follow you. The smell of something hearty draws you closer quickly - it must be some kind of stew or soup that’s cooking in the kitchen. You’re not really hungry thanks to the kimchi fried rice from earlier but the aroma surely whets your appetite.

“What's cookin’ good lookin’?” you hear Jimin sing-song as he prances into the kitchen just as you walk up to the dining table and your newly assigned seat. 

Lucy strides through the room like he owns the place and follows Jimin, apparently also drawn by the smell. 

“Oh my god, who's this cutie? Where did you come from?” you hear Jeongguk squeal excitedly. Lucy answers him with loud meows, surely to get him to drop some food. 

“Lucy, don't beg,” you call for your cat, walking up to the kitchen.

"It's yours?” Jeongguk asks, the excitement from a second ago gone from his face. Instead, he looks at you with a sour expression before stomping past you to the dining room.

“Is she moving in now or what?” he snarls, accusing eyes boring holes into Yoongi. 

“What, you’d rather have us kick her out?” Jimin asks him in disbelief.

“Um, yeah?!”

“Sorry about him,” Jimin sheepishly shuffles up to you and pats your shoulder. “He surely doesn't mean it,” he adds while heavily side-eying Jeongguk.

Yoongi plants both hands on the dinner table before taking a seat, looking up at Jeongguk through the strands of his hair that have fallen over his eyes. “She didn’t choose to be here, relax. Now stop acting like a fucking brat and fix your god damn attitude.”

You're taken aback by Yoongi's stern words for Jeongguk, you didn't expect him to intervene like that. And somehow you are also turned on by it. Like, really turned on. To the point of feeling your panties moisten as you watch him brush the hair out of his face. This whole thing must be really messing with your head. You were so annoyed by that gesture just a few hours ago and now you have to stop yourself from jumping him.

“How about you get back to cooking, Gguk?” Hoseok interrupts the heated moment. "I'm basically starving."

It seems like Jeongguk wants to keep bitching, more provocation already on the tip of his tongue, but then he apparently decides against it, as his shoulders slump down in defeat and he retreats to the stove, Lucy following closely behind. Yoongi's eyes track him leaving the room before he leans back in his chair at the head of the table sighing.

You slide into your designated seat next to him and mutter a quiet “Thanks”, that he definitely hears but doesn't acknowledge.

“I um,” you clear your throat. “I’m actually not that hungry, so if you want, I could go to my room, so Jeongguk can cool off for a bit?”

“Nonsense,” Jimin says from his spot at the table. “He will deal.”

Your offer was sincere but you are glad to stay, the heavenly smell of Jeongguk's cooking wafting over. Leaning back in your chair, you glance through the doorway and see him crouching next to Lucy, scratching his head. At least he’s nice to someone.

A few minutes later, Jeongguk returns with a big steaming pot of stew and sets it in the middle of the table. Taehyung had already brought in a dish of rice to go with it. 

Before you can argue, Yoongi grabs the bowl in front of you and serves you some of the soup. 

“Well,” he raises an eyebrow at you when you just stare at the food in front of you. “Dig in.”

“Yeah, noona,” Jeongguk teases you with a mean smirk. “Go ahead. I swear I didn't poison it.”

You didn't think he did, but after he said it, you wonder if maybe you should have worried about it, looking around the table until you lock eyes with Yoongi. 

He just rolls his eyes, with a half-smirk. “He wouldn’t dare.”

The others start eating so you do the same. 

Only Jimin is poking around his bowl, never really picking anything up. Maybe he doesn't like pork. Which seems to offend Jeongguk as he’s glaring at Jimin from across the table. 

“Okay so,” Namjoon mumbles mid bite. “I’m sure you came up with more things to ask? Because we also have some rules to put down with you being here and all.”

“I don’t think there’s enough time for all the questions I have, to be honest,” you tell him. “I guess I’ll make a list. There’s one thing though. Who’s room did I move into? I was wondering why you had a guest room but someone mentioned earlier I can take ‘Jin’s’ chair. So I assume that it was his? Will he be back eventually?”

Namjoon clears his throat. “Oh, yeah, um it was Jin’s. He’s one of us but he… he’s gone. You could say he’s watching over us from above now.”

Oh no. 

Suddenly, Hoseok gets out of his seat, mumbling a choked up apology to the group and hurries out of the room. 

Shit, you shouldn't have brought up Jin. But how were you supposed to know he died? “I’m so sorry,” you call after Hoseok. “My condolences.”

“Wha- no!” Jimin shakes his head. “He’s not dead. He’s back on earth, living his best life.” 

You whip around to face Namjoon. “Well, you really could have worded this differently then!”

“Great, now you upset Hobi,” Jeongguk scoffs but shuts up immediately when Yoongi shoots him a warning look.

He's right though. For once. 

“I didn't mean to, I'm sorry. But, I have to ask. How come all of you stay down here if you could just live on earth?”

“We can't,” Jeongguk chuckles bitterly.

“Yeah, that's a bit of a longer story. Maybe one for another day. It's kind of a lucky coincidence though that we have a spare bedroom you can use,” Namjoon changes the topic.

“If we didn't have one, you could have just stayed in mine. No problem,” Taehyung smiles at you and you are unsure on how to take this. 

“Orrrr,” Namjoon glares at him for the dumb comment. “We could have just conjured up an additional one, you know, with the powers that Yoongi has?”

“Chill, I didn’t mean it like that,” Taehyung spits back. “You know I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“Yes, I’m painfully aware of that. But she isn't. Don't make her think we're total perverts."

Taehyung chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t make her think we aren’t.”

You choke on your stew so bad that Jimin gets up to slap your back.

“Relax,” he laughs.

“While we're on the topic of your room,” Namjoon starts up again. “I think Hoseok mentioned it to you already, but emotions are really heightened down here. Maybe you have figured this out already. Anyway, it would be best if you stayed in your room at night, by yourself. And during the day too maybe, until you’ve grown accustomed to it.”

“What, are you scared I'm going to get into a fist fight with Jeongguk?” you joke.

“Um, no, but is that something I have to worry about as well?” Namjoon looks sincerely troubled by the idea. “When I say heightened emotions, that also includes… arousal. That one’s actually the strongest for unknown reasons.”

“He’s trying to say that hell makes everyone unreasonably horny,” Jimin smirks. “The first few months of us all being here were beyond crazy.”

“Yes, you can also word it like that I guess. Like the other emotions, we got a better grip on it over time. But with you being here now, I don't really know what to expect. We usually don't have visitors. And I also don't know how heavily this affects you. Since you’re still human and all. I haven’t concluded my research on it yet, but I am pretty sure you’re not immune to it,” Namjoon babbles on. 

“I like to call it the horn from hell,” Taehyung chuckles to himself.

Is this some kind of joke? Are you hearing this correctly? You turn to the others and when your gaze lands on Yoongi, he’s immediately looking away but you can tell that his cheeks are flushed. 

Now that you think back to the past hours and the emotional rollercoaster you went through, it does make more sense than you just randomly getting horny during the weirdest traumatic event of your entire existence.

“So yeah, until we figure out how to handle… this… please just stay in your room as much as you can,” Namjoon concludes the topic. “At least for now, and, tonight.”

So they knew you were horny the entire time? This is mortifying. Maybe you will stay in your room for the rest of eternity actually. 

“I guess dinner’s done then. Jimin and I will do the dishes and then we can all hop into the shower,” Taehyung chimes. 

“Can you wash my hair tonight?” Jimin gleefully addresses Yoongi now, who just sighs but nods at the same time.

“I’ll get Hoseok then,” Namjoon announces and stands up. 

“Huh?” you can’t hide your confusion. Is your room the only one with an en-suite? They surely can't all fit into one bathroom? 

Jeongguk just looks at you like you’re stupid, but his mouth is pulled into an amused smirk. 

“Do I… want to know?” you carefully ask.

Yoongi sighs again but finally lifts his head to look at you. “Yeah, we wash up together. Didn’t start out with a whole mansion. It was more like a shitty dorm when we were still trainee demons. With bunk beds and communal showers.”

“Had to work our way up to individual rooms and Yoongi didn’t have his powers yet,” Namjoon explains further. 

“And once we all had our own bathrooms we realised pretty soon that we miss showering together. So we kept the communal showers downstairs and use it most nights,” Jimin adds. 

“It’s nice,” Taehyung says. “You can join if you want to.”

“Taehyung please,” Namjoon groans and swats the back of his head as he’s leaving the dining room. 

You find yourself intrigued, actively trying to stop the picture of all of them together, naked and wet, from popping into your head, actually considering agreeing with Taehyung for a moment. Okay, this horn from hell really is a force to be reckoned with. “Maybe another time,” you joke and they all stare at you.

“Please, just go to your room,” Yoongi tells you, facing away, as he stands up with one hand rubbing his neck. “Now.”

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A/n: omg karen you can't just ask people why they're korean.. Thank you for reading :) How'd you like hell? Interaction in any form is highly appreciated, we'd be so happy to receive your feedback and if you're shy, feel free to send us an anonymous ask.

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You pushed open the heavy rooftop door and stepped into the cool evening air. It had only been three weeks since you moved to Seoul, but every day still felt like a whirlwind... too noisy, too busy, too fast for you to keep up with.

The brutal critique from Professor Kim today was your final straw.

“Surface level,” he’d said in front of everyone, tapping your paper with two fingers like it personally offended him. “You’re describing the notes, but where’s the soul behind the artistry? This is music, not a textbook summary.”

Your cheeks still burned at the memory.

The rooftop was quieter than the streets below, the hum of traffic distant. You walked to the far corner railing, gripping the cool metal, and breathed in the night air... cool, laced with cigarette smoke, champagne and distant rain.

A few meters away, a man leaned against the railing, alone.

Black hoodie, dark hair falling slightly over his eyes, a cigarette glowing between his fingers. He looked relaxed, like the chaos of the city didn’t dare touch him.

You didn’t recognize him.

Just another stranger in a city full of them.

You closed your eyes and let the breeze hit your face, trying to push the day away.

“Rough night?” His voice was low, slightly raspy.

You opened your eyes.

He was watching you now, cigarette paused halfway to his lips.

“Yeah,” you admitted, managing a tired smile. “More like a rough three weeks. I’m new here. University’s kicking my ass.”

He gave a small nod, like he understood more than you expected. “New city hits different. Everything feels too sharp at first. Been there.” He took a slow drag, then exhaled smoke away from you. “You look like you came up here to escape, not drink.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Yeah... I just needed air that doesn’t smell like cheap instant ramen and stress sweat. My dorm’s basically a shoebox.”

He smirked faintly, turning more toward you. “I get that. Myself Yoongi.”

“I’m Y/n,” you said, offering your hand.

His grip was warm, steady, calloused fingertips brushing yours a second longer than necessary.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n.” His eyes... sharp but strangely soft, lingered on your face. “So what’s got a new-in-town university student looking like the world ended?”

You hesitated, then shrugged. “I am doing my Masters in Music Theory. Today my music analysis professor tore my paper apart in front of the whole class.”

“He said it was too surface level. I spent days working on it—talking about song structures, rhythms, and how some artists use music to express their inner feelings. But he said I only scratched the surface. That I didn’t really understand the feeling behind the art.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows rose slightly. He flicked ash over the railing. “Music class, huh? What exactly were you writing about?”

You leaned your elbows on the railing beside him, the words spilling out easier than they should with a stranger. “I picked a few underground producers and how they use simple, soft sounds to express feeling alone even when they’re surrounded by millions of people in the city... I thought it was decent. Guess not.”

He was quiet for a moment, studying you. “Most people write about the big names. You went underground. That’s already more interesting than half the shit professors read.”

You glanced at him, surprised. “You know about music?”

A soft, almost amused huff escaped him. “A little.”

Something about the way he said it, made you smile genuinely for the first time all day. “Okay, Mr. ‘A Little.’ What’s your take then? Because I’m clearly missing the soul or whatever.”

Yoongi turned fully toward you now, resting his back against the railing. The city lights painted faint shadows across his face.

“Music isn’t just about the notes or the beat. It’s about the empty spaces between the sounds. Sometimes leaving silence says more than adding more noise. A lot of producers just follow what’s trending. But the really good ones put their real feelings into the track. They make you feel something even when no one is singing.”

You stared at him, caught off guard by the quiet intensity in his voice. “That’s… actually really good. My professor said something similar but made it sound like I was too stupid to get it.”

“Maybe he’s just a bad teacher,” Yoongi said with a small smirk. “Or maybe you were nervous writing it. Happens when you’re drowning in a new city.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “God, yes. Everything’s overwhelming. The buses make no sense, my roommate’s never in the dorm except sleep time, and I miss my mom’s cooking so bad I almost cried over convenience store kimbap yesterday.”

He chuckled—a low, warm sound that settled in your chest. “Kimbap hits different when you’re homesick. What’s your favourite dish?”

The conversation flowed so easily it surprised you.

You told him about home, about the pressure of being the first in your family to study abroad, about how music had always been your comfort but now even that felt academic and cold.

Yoongi listened without interrupting, occasionally nodding or adding quiet insights that made you feel seen.

At one point he lit another cigarette, offering you one.

You declined.

“You don’t smoke?” he asked.

“Not really. I came up here to clear my lungs, not fill them.”

“Fair.” He paused, eyes tracing your face more openly now. “You’ve got this look… like you’re carrying the whole damn city on your shoulders already. It’s only been three weeks.”

Your voice softened. “Feels like three months. I don’t know anyone here. I just… keep messing up.”

“You’re not messing up,” he said, quieter. His gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before returning to your eyes. “You’re figuring things out... and adjusting. That takes guts.”

The air between you shifted.

The casual conversation suddenly felt heavier, warmer. You became aware of how close you were standing—barely a foot apart now.

The way his hoodie sleeves were pushed up, revealing pale wrists and delicate veins. The subtle scent of his cologne mixed with cigarette smoke.

“So…” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “what do you do, Yoongi? Since you seem to know a lot about music.”

He smiled... small, almost secretive. “I make it. Produce, mostly.”

“Oh? That’s cool. Are you any good?” you teased, not catching the weight behind his words.

His eyes darkened with amusement. “Some people think so.”

The charged tension thickened. He stepped a little closer, voice dropping lower. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

You shook your head, heart picking up speed. “Should I?”

“No,” he said, almost relieved. “It’s… refreshing. Most people who know me, come at me with expectations.”

The way he looked at you now wasn’t casual anymore. It was slow, deliberate. Like he was seeing you... really seeing you. Your tired eyes, the way your hair moved in the breeze, the nervous way you bit your lip.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured.

You blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah... You.” He reached up, almost absentmindedly brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered near your jaw. “Talking like this. Looking like that. Making me forget things like I came up here to be alone.”

Your breath caught. The city noise faded further into the background. “And what else are you forgetting right now?”

“That I usually don’t do this.” His thumb grazed your cheek, feather-light. “Don’t talk this long. Don’t want to keep talking.”

Heat pooled low in your stomach. “Then what do you want to do?”

Yoongi’s eyes flicked to your mouth again, darker now. His voice was barely above a whisper, rough around the edges. “I want to know what you sound like when you’re not stressed. When you’re not thinking about papers or buses or homesickness.”

The air felt electric.

You could smell the faint tobacco on his breath, feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“I’m not usually this forward,” you breathed, even as you leaned slightly into his touch.

“Neither am I.” His lips curved into a half-smirk. “But something about you up here, looking like you need someone to pull you out of that head of yours… it’s doing things to me.”

You swallowed. “Yoongi…”

“Tell me to back off and I will,” he said seriously, though his fingers stayed near your face. “But if you don’t… I’d really like to kiss you right now and see if the rest of the night can get better than this conversation.”

The rooftop, the city, the terrible day—all of it narrowed down to the charged space between you two. Your heart hammered as you looked up at him, the mysterious producer who somehow understood exactly what you’d been feeling.

Your voice came out shaky but certain. “Then stop talking and do it.”

He exhaled sharply.

His hand slid properly to your jaw as he leaned in, slow enough for you to change your mind, close enough that you felt his breath mingle with yours.

The first brush of his lips was soft... testing.

Then deeper, hungrier, as you responded. The cigarette scent mixed with something distinctly him, and the kiss tasted like possibility in the middle of your chaotic new life.

When he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing uneven, he whispered, “Stay a while longer. I’m not ready to let you disappear back into that city yet.”

Then he kissed you again. The kiss deepened instantly.

Yoongi’s hand cupped your jaw more firmly as he tilted his head, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip. You parted for him with a soft sigh, and he took the invitation greedily.

The kiss turned wet, hungry—tongues meeting, tasting, exploring. A low sound rumbled in his chest as he stepped forward, backing you up without breaking the kiss.

Your back met the cool concrete wall in the shadowed corner of the rooftop, tucked behind a tall wooden partition where the string lights barely reached. It was dark enough that no one from the main seating area could see you clearly.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your lips, voice rougher now. “You taste even better than I thought.”

Before you could answer, his mouth was on yours again—deeper, messier. Wet kisses, lips sliding, tongues tangling. He pressed his body against yours, one thigh slipping between your legs. You gasped into his mouth as his hand slid down your side, gripping your waist.

“Yoongi…” you whispered breathlessly when he pulled back just enough to kiss along your jaw.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear.

“Don’t stop,” you managed, fingers threading into his dark hair.

His mouth claimed yours again.

This time the kiss was filthy... wet sounds filling the small space between you as he sucked on your tongue, then your bottom lip. His hands grew bolder. One stayed at your waist while the other slowly travelled down, slipping under the hem of your skirt.

You shivered as his fingers traced the back of your thigh, moving higher. He teased the edge of your panties, fingertips brushing the lace lightly, making your breath hitch.

“Soft,” he whispered against your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses there. “You’re so fucking soft.”

His fingers continued teasing, stroking along the fabric, pressing just enough to make you squirm against him. You grabbed a fistful of his hoodie, steadying yourself as he leaned in and kissed you again.

His tongue curled against yours while his fingers slipped under the edge of your panties, tracing your skin without going further.

“Shit, you’re getting wet already,” he murmured against your mouth, voice low and dark. “Just from kissing?”

You shivered, cheeks burning. “It’s… been a long day. And you’re really good at this.”

He chuckled softly. His fingers kept teasing, pressing the thumb against your clit, rubbing in lazy circles that made your knees weak.

“Yoongi—ah…” you moaned quietly into his mouth.

He groaned, pressing his hips into you. “Say my name like that again.”

You were just about to when...

Your phone vibrated aggressively in your skirt pocket, cutting through the haze. You pulled back, breathing hard, lips swollen and shiny.

“Shit... shit,” you cursed under your breath, fumbling for your phone. The screen showed “Roommate – Mina” flashing.

You answered, still pinned against the wall with Yoongi’s hand still under your skirt.

“H-Hello?”

“Yah! Where are you?!” Mina’s voice came through, half worried, half scolding. “It’s almost 11:30. The dorm main gate closes in like 35 minutes. You’re always back before me. I thought something happened!”

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing.

Yoongi watched you with dark, amused eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m out. I’ll be back soon. I just… lost track of time.”

“Lost track of time? You? Miss Always-Early? Who are you and what did you do tto my roommate?” Mina teased. “Just hurry, okay? Warden is extra strict this week. You know she’ll make a huge scene if you’re late.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m leaving now. Thanks for calling.”

You hung up and let out a heavy sigh, leaning your head back against the wall. “Fuck.”

Yoongi slowly pulled his hand from under your skirt, straightening your clothes for you with surprisingly gentle fingers. He took a small step back, giving you space, though his eyes were still dark with want.

“Curfew, huh?” He smirked softly. “Didn’t know I was making out with a responsible university student.”

You laughed breathlessly, fixing your hair. “Very responsible, clearly. I’m so sorry. I have to go. My roommate just reminded me the dorm gate locks soon. If I’m late, the warden will make a huge drama and probably call my parents. I usually get back before her, so she got worried.”

He nodded. “Alright. Don’t get in trouble because of me.”

You quickly fixed your skirt, cheeks flushed. “I’m really sorry. This was… I didn’t expect tonight to go like this at all.”

“Neither did I,” he said, voice low. A small smirk played on his lips. “But I’m not complaining.”

Before you turned to leave, you hesitated. “Wait—can I have your number? You know… in case I need advice on my research paper. About the whole ‘soul in music’ thing my professor said I missed.”

Yoongi’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile. He took your phone from your hand, typed in his number, and saved it under “Yoongi (Rooftop Producer)”.

“Here. Text me anytime. Even if it’s not about music.”

He took your hand, pulled you closer gently, and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Goodnight, Y/n . Get dorm safe.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered, heart still racing.

You started walking toward the exit, legs a little unsteady. But after a few steps, you stopped. Something pulled you back. You turned around and walked quickly to him again.

Yoongi looked confused, tilting his head. “Forget something?”

You didn’t answer with words.

You rose on your tiptoes, and pressed a sweet, quick kiss to his cheek.

“Goodbye, Yoongi,” you said softly against his skin, then pulled back with a shy smile.

You turned and practically ran toward the stairs, skirt fluttering, heart pounding.

Behind you, Yoongi stood frozen, one hand touching the spot on his cheek you’d just kissed. His ears were bright red, a faint blush spreading across his usually composed face.

He let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh and muttered to himself, “…The hell was that? Cute little tease.”

For the first time in a long time, Min Yoongi didn’t know what to do with himself.

A few days later...

In a dimly lit studio at his apartment, Yoongi sat hunched over his mixing desk, headphones around his neck. The soft glow of multiple monitors illuminated his face. He was tweaking a beat when his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen.

A new message from an unsaved number.

You: Hey Yoongi, it’s Y/n from the rooftop the other night. Sorry for texting so randomly. I was working on my research paper again and remembered what you said about “soul in the silence.” Do you have any quick thoughts on how producers create emotional depth with minimalism? I don’t want to bother you though.

A small smile tugged at Yoongi’s lips.

Yoongi: I was waiting for you to text.

He watched the typing bubble appear and disappear before your reply came.

You: Really? I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me. Yoongi: Hard to forget someone who kissed my cheek and ran away like that. So… is it just about the paper? Or can we chat regardless? You: We can chat regardless. I’d like that.

Over the next few weeks, the chats flowed easily, turning into something that brightened both your days.

Most evenings, after your classes and his studio sessions, the conversation would start with your paper but quickly drift into everything else.

You told him about your struggles adjusting to Seoul, the chaotic university days, and how much you liked the Suga tracks your professor played in lectures.

You: Today my professor played another Suga track in class as an example of emotional minimalism. The way the piano feels so lonely but powerful at the same time… I don’t know how he does it. I’m still so new to the Korean music scene. I only know a few names my professor mentions. Yoongi: Suga, huh? You like his stuff? You: Yeah! The professor says he’s a genius at producing. He doesn’t always show up in public, right? Always low-profile. Just focuses on the music. I respect that a lot. Makes the art feel more pure. Yoongi: …Yeah. He’s pretty private. Glad you like it though. You: I’m still learning everything. Being new in Seoul is exhausting lol. Today I got lost again trying to find the right subway line. Ended up in the completely wrong area and had to take a taxi back. I miss home so much sometimes. Yoongi: I remember those days. I was the same when I first moved here. You’ll get used to it. Want me to send you a list of good places to eat near your university? Real food, not just convenience store kimbap. You: You’d do that? That would be amazing. I’m surviving on instant ramen too much. Yoongi: Consider it done. Also… how’s the paper going? Still surface level? You: Getting better thanks to you. You explain things in a way my professor never could. You’re really good at this. Yoongi: I’ve been doing it for a while. Happy to help.

Another night, late:

You: It’s 1 AM and I’m still editing this section. I feel like crying. Why is university so hard? Yoongi: Hey, breathe. Send me the paragraph if you want. I’ll read it. You: You sure? You’re probably busy. Yoongi: I’m in the studio but I’ve got time for you. Send it.

You sent the text.

Ten minutes later he replied with thoughtful feedback... gentle but honest, pointing out where the emotion was missing and how to bring it out.

Yoongi: You’re not surface level. You just need to trust your own feelings more when you write. Music is personal. Write like you’re telling me about it on the rooftop that night. You: How are you so sweet? I barely know you but talking to you makes everything feel lighter. Yoongi: You make it easy to be sweet. You’re genuine. That’s rare.

The conversations grew longer and more frequent.

Good morning texts. Late night voice notes from him humming a melody he was working on. You sending him pictures of your messy desk or the rainy view from your dorm window. He would reply with short voice messages in his low, raspy voice that always made your heart flutter.

Then one evening, after almost five weeks of constant texting:

Yoongi: You free this weekend? You: Yeah. Most Probably. Yoongi: Come over to my place. I’ll help you with the paper properly. Better than texting back and forth. I have a proper studio setup here. We can listen to tracks and break them down together. No pressure.

You stared at the message, biting your lip. Your heart raced.

You: Your apartment? Is that okay? Yoongi: Yeah. It’s quiet here. No one will bother us. We can order food, work on your paper, and just… talk like we do. I’d like to see you again. You: I’d like that too. Really. It’s just I keep thinking if I am bothering you more than I should. Yoongi: Don’t be... So, Saturday morning? 10 AM? I’ll send you the address. We can work while the sun’s still gentle, and I’ll make sure you get to your dorm with plenty of time before curfew. You: 10 AM sounds perfect actually. Thank you for offering this. You’ve been such a big help already. Yoongi: I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. Don’t worry about anything. Just bring your laptop and that pretty smile from the rooftop. You: You’re going to make me blush through the phone… See you on Saturday!! Yoongi: Can’t wait, Y/n.

He set his phone down, leaning back in his chair with a soft, genuine smile and something warm and fluttery in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

In your dorm, you hugged your pillow, grinning at the screen, already thinking about what to wear and feeling both nervous and excited for the weekend.

The connection that started with a charged kiss on a dark rooftop was slowly blooming into something sweet, comforting, and full of quiet affection.

Saturday morning, your eyes fluttered open at 6:15 AM... way earlier than your usual weekend schedule. Sunlight filtered softly through the thin dorm curtains, and for a moment you just lay there, heart already beating a little faster than normal.

Today was the day.

You were going to Yoongi’s apartment.

You sat up, rubbing your face, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in your stomach. After brushing your teeth and taking shower, you stood in front of the small closet you shared with Mina, staring at your clothes.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, pulling out a simple cream sweater and black jeans. You tried it on, turned left and right in front of the mirror, then frowned.

“Too casual… I look like I’m going to the library.”

Second outfit — a soft lavender blouse with a light cardigan and a skirt. You checked the mirror again, tilting your head.

“Cute… but maybe too soft? I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.”

Third outfit. Fourth. By the fifth change, you were standing in a fitted white t-shirt tucked into high-waisted jeans, with a soft oversized beige cardigan slipping off one shoulder.

You turned slowly, checking every angle.

Mina, who had been pretending to sleep, finally groaned and sat up in her bed, hair messy, squinting at you with one eye open.

“Yahhh… what is going on?” she asked, voice still raspy from sleep. “It’s not even 8 AM on a Saturday. Are you sick? Did the world end?”

You froze mid-twirl, cheeks already warming. “I’m… just getting ready.”

Mina raised an eyebrow, fully awake now.

She propped herself up on her elbows, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Getting ready? For what? You never wake up before 11 on weekends. Usually I have to drag you out of bed like a corpse. So who is he?”

You avoided her eyes in the mirror and smoothed down your cardigan again. “No one. I mean… it’s just a study thing.”

“Study thing?” Mina laughed, sitting up fully now and hugging her knees. “With the mysterious rooftop guy? The one who made you come back to the dorm with swollen lips and red cheeks that night? Don’t lie to me, Y/n.”

You turned around, biting your lip. “Okay… fine. Yes. I’m going to his place this morning. He offered to help me with my music research paper. He knows a lot about music.”

Mina’s eyes sparkled with delight.

“Ooooh~ So the mysterious rooftop guy enters again! You only gave me crumbs that night, you know. You came in all flushed and breathless, and when I kept asking, you just mumbled something about ‘a really good make out with a stranger on the rooftop.’ I’ve been dying for details ever since!”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Minaaa, stop. It wasn’t just that… We talked a lot too. He’s really nice. And smart. The way he talks about music… it’s different from my professor. He actually gets it.”

Mina wiggled her eyebrows. “And he’s hot, right? Because your face right now is telling me he’s more than just ‘nice.’ You’ve changed outfits like five times already. I counted.”

“Four… maybe five,” you admitted with a shy laugh, glancing back at the mirror. “I don’t know what to wear. I want to look cute but not like I’m trying too hard. What do you think of this one?”

You did a small spin.

Mina tilted her head, studying you.

“Hmm… It’s good. The cardigan makes you look soft and approachable. But maybe add that little silver necklace you have? The one with the tiny star. It’ll draw attention to your neck… in case he wants to kiss it again,” she teased.

“Yah!” You threw a pillow at her, laughing. “We’re just working on my paper today. Nothing else.”

“Sure, sure,” Mina said sarcastically, catching the pillow. “That’s why you’re up at 8 AM vibrating with excitement. Tell me more about him. You said he’s a producer? Is he famous?”

You sat down on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan.

“He’s… I don’t know, lowkey? He doesn’t act like he’s a big deal. We’ve been texting almost every day since that night. He helps me with my paper, listens when I complain about the city, and sends me food recommendations. He even sent me a voice note humming a melody he was working on. His voice is so… deep and calming.”

Mina clutched her chest dramatically. “Oh my god, you’re whipped already. And you made out with him on the rooftop? How was it? Was it hot? Tell me he’s a good kisser at least.”

Your face burned as memories flashed—the dark corner, his hands under your skirt, the wet kisses.

“It was… really good,” you admitted quietly, smiling despite yourself. “Like, really good. Intense. He pinned me against the wall and I completely forgot about everything. Then you called about curfew and I had to run.”

Mina squealed and kicked her legs under the blanket. “I knew it! That’s why you were so red and out of breath when you got back. And now you’re going to his apartment? Alone? On a Saturday morning? Babe, this is not just about the research paper anymore.”

You laughed nervously, standing up to check your reflection one more time. “It’s mostly about the paper… but yeah, I like talking to him. A lot. He makes me feel less alone in this city.”

Mina’s teasing softened into a warm smile. “I’m happy for you. You’ve been so stressed since you got here. Just be careful, okay? And text me when you get there and when you leave. If he turns out to be a weirdo, I’ll come rescue you along with my boyfriend.”

“Thank you,” you said, walking over to hug her quickly. “I will. Wish me luck?”

“Good luck with your ‘paper’,” she said, grinning. “And if you come back with swollen lips again, I want full details this time. No more hiding!”

You grabbed your bag, laptop, and notes, heart fluttering as you headed for the door.

“You are thinking too much. It's just about paper... today. Promise.”

As you left the dorm, Mina called after you, “Yah! Wear the lip tint! The pink one!”

You smiled to yourself the entire way, nerves and excitement mixing together. Saturday morning had never felt this bright.

Around 10:02 AM, you stood outside the modern apartment building, nervously adjusting the strap of your bag. The building looked expensive but understated—exactly the kind of place you imagined someone quiet like Yoongi would live.

After taking a deep breath, you pressed the doorbell for his unit.

The door opened after a few seconds.

Yoongi stood there in a simple black hoodie and grey sweatpants, his dark hair slightly messy like he’d just woken up not too long ago. His eyes softened the moment they landed on you, and a small, genuine smile curved his lips.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and warm. “You made it.”

“Hi,” you replied, suddenly shy. “I’m not late, am I?”

“Not at all. Come in.”

He stepped aside, letting you enter.

His apartment was beautiful... minimal, clean, with large windows letting in soft morning light. The living room had a low couch, a few plants, and records displayed neatly on the wall. But what caught your attention most was the open door leading to his studio.

“Want to see my workspace first?” he asked, noticing your curious gaze.

“Yes, please. I’m really curious.”

He gently guided you inside the studio.

The room was soundproofed, filled with warm lighting. Two large monitors, a massive mixing desk covered with knobs and faders, multiple keyboards, a beautiful vintage piano in the corner, few guitars and shelves full of headphones and equipment.

“Wow…” you whispered, eyes wide. “This is incredible, Yoongi. It feels so… professional.”

He smiled, eyes tender and soft. “It’s my little cave. I spend most of my time here. Sit wherever you want.”

You glanced around at all the instruments, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Do you actually know how to play all of them, or are they just here for studio aesthetics?”

Yoongi chuckled softly, the sound warm and low as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I love learning new instruments in my free time. It keeps me inspired. I’m definitely good with the piano and guitar though.”

Your eyes landed on one of the acoustic guitars resting on a stand. It looked well-loved, the wood smooth and slightly worn.

“That one’s beautiful,” you said, pointing at it. “Can you tell me about it? And… would you teach me a little? Even just the basics?”

His smile grew, soft and genuinely pleased. “Yeah? Come here.”

He picked up the guitar with practiced ease, settling on the edge of the couch and patting the spot beside him. You sat close as he placed the instrument in his lap.

“This is one of my favorites,” he said, gently strumming a few soft chords that filled the studio with warm, rich sound. “It’s got a nice warm tone, not too bright.” He adjusted your posture a little, guiding your hands. “Here, put your fingers like this for A minor chord.”

For the next few minutes, Yoongi patiently showed you the Open Chords, the easiest for beginners, his voice quiet and focused as he corrected your finger placement and demonstrated how to strum smoothly.

His shoulder brushed yours, and every time you managed a decent sound, his eyes crinkled with quiet pride.

“Not bad,” he murmured, clearly enjoying himself. “You’ve got good hands for it.”

You laughed, a little flustered but happy. “I think I’m mostly just following you.”

He played a short, gentle melody after that... something soft and soothing... his fingers moving effortlessly across the strings while he occasionally glanced at you, explaining what he was doing.

The intimate atmosphere in the studio wrapped around both of you as the music lingered in the air. Eventually, he set the guitar back on its stand and turned to you, eyes warm.

“See? You’re already learning,” he said with a small, affectionate smile. “We can do more of that later if you want.”

You both settled on the comfortable couch in the studio. You pulled out your laptop and notes while he made two cups of coffee and set one in front of you.

For the next thirty minutes, you actually tried to focus on your paper. He leaned close, shoulder brushing yours, pointing at your screen as he explained certain production techniques.

“See here,” he said quietly, his breath warm near your ear. “When you talk about emotional minimalism, it’s not just removing sounds. It’s about creating tension with what you don’t play. Like leaving space for the listener to feel something.”

You nodded, trying to ignore how good he smelled. “That makes so much sense. My professor never explained it like this.”

He smiled, eyes lingering on your face a little longer than necessary. “You’re catching on fast.”

Eventually, the research talk slowed.

Yoongi leaned back, studying you with soft eyes.

“So… tell me something,” he said gently. “Why did you choose to do your Masters in music theory? Most people come for performance or production. What made you pick theory?”

You sipped your coffee, thinking for a moment before answering honestly.

“I’ve always loved music, but I want to understand it deeply. Not just how it sounds, but why it affects us so much. The psychology behind it… how certain chord progressions can make someone cry, or how rhythm can calm anxiety. I want to learn that so I can eventually write my own lyrics and compose them. I’ve tried a few times, but…” you laughed self-consciously, “they’re not very good. They feel childish compared to what I hear in lectures.”

Yoongi’s expression turned incredibly soft.

He shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours.

“I’d love to read them someday,” he said quietly. “If you’re comfortable sharing. I promise I won’t judge. I started the same way — writing really bad lines before I got better.”

“Really?” You looked up at him, surprised. “You’d actually want to read my messy lyrics?”

“Of course.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “I like the way your mind works. The way you talk about music. It’s honest. That’s rare.”

The atmosphere grew warmer, more intimate. You could feel your heart fluttering as he kept looking at you like that.

Yoongi took a slow breath, as if deciding something important. He gently took your hand, playing with your fingers.

“Y/n… there’s something I want to tell you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I didn’t want to say it over text. That’s one of the reasons I asked you to come here—face to face.”

You blinked, suddenly a little nervous. “What is it?”

He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his thumb stroking your skin.

“I told you I’m a producer. But I didn’t tell you my full name… or my stage name.” He paused, eyes steady on yours. “I’m Suga. The one your professor keeps playing in class. The one you said you really like.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open. “Wait… you’re Suga? The Suga?”

He nodded, a small, almost shy smile appearing. “Yeah. I produce under that name. I don’t show up publically much—I prefer staying behind the scenes, letting the artists I work with take the spotlight. That’s why you didn’t recognize me.”

“Oh my god…” You let out a breathless laugh, covering your mouth. “All this time I was telling you how much I like Suga’s music… and it was you. Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“I didn’t want you to treat me differently,” he said honestly, voice soft. “When you didn’t know who I was on the rooftop, it felt real. You talked to me, not the name. I liked that. A lot.”

He leaned in a little closer, eyes warm and sincere. “But I also didn’t want to keep hiding it from you. These past weeks talking to you… they’ve meant something to me. I want this to be honest.”

Your cheeks flushed deeply. You squeezed his hand back, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest.

“I can’t believe this… I’ve been fangirling over your music in my paper and you’ve been helping me with it the whole time.” You laughed softly. “This feels surreal.”

Yoongi’s smile grew, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Is it a good surreal?”

“Very good,” you whispered.

He brought your hand up and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, then another to the inside of your wrist, making your heart skip.

“I really like you, Y/n,” he said quietly, voice husky but full of affection. “Not just helping with your paper. Talking to you every day… it’s become my favorite part of the day. I wanted you to know the real me before this goes any further.”

You felt butterflies explode in your stomach. The morning light made his features look even softer, and the way he was looking at you made everything feel warm and safe.

“I like you too, Yoongi,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Suga or not… I like you.”

He let out a relieved breath and rested his forehead gently against yours for a moment, eyes closed, a fluffy smile playing on his lips.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I was hoping you’d stay a little longer today. We can work more on your paper… or we can just talk. Or I can make you something quick for breakfast while you tell me more about those lyrics you’re scared to show anyone.”

You laughed softly, your nose brushing his. “I think I’d like all of that.”

A few months had passed since that first studio visit, and your relationship with Yoongi had become the softest, warmest thing in your life.

You and Mina had moved into a small rented apartment near campus at the beginning of next semester.

No more strict dorm curfews.

Both of you were in relationships, and the freedom felt amazing.

Yoongi was still the same quiet, low-profile producer, but with you he was incredibly affectionate—always pulling you into his lap when he was working, leaving sweet kisses on your forehead, cooking for you when you stayed over, and sending you voice notes in his raspy morning voice.

Despite the six-year age gap, things never felt awkward.

The intimacy between you both had grown naturally, and you’d already shared several beautiful, passionate nights at his apartment.

The first time you stayed over at his place, it was your third month of dating. You had come over after a long day at university.

“You didn’t have to cook,” you said, watching him from the kitchen island.

“I wanted to,” he replied softly, chopping the vegetables. “You’ve been working hard on that paper. Let me take care of you tonight.”

He had cooked dinner for you like a proper gentleman — delicious kimchi jjigae, perfectly grilled mackerel, and side dishes he prepared earlier.

You sat at the kitchen counter watching him, heart fluttering the entire time. He set the dishes on plate and placed in front of you.

“You know... you really cook so well,” you said, eyes wide as you took a bite. “I used to think producers only knew how to order takeout.”

Yoongi smirked, sliding more food onto your plate. “I lived alone for too long. Had to learn or I would’ve starved. Eat well, baby.”

After dinner, he worked in his studio for a bit while you kept him company, sitting comfortably in his lap. His arms were wrapped around you as he clicked through tracks, occasionally asking for your opinion.

“You smell nice,” he murmured against your hair at one point, making you smile.

Later, he gave you one of his hoodies to wear. It was big and cozy, reaching mid-thigh on you. You felt adorable in it.

When it was time to sleep, you both stood side by side in the bathroom brushing your teeth. He kept glancing at you in the mirror, eyes soft.

“You look cute with foam on your lips,” he teased, bumping your shoulder gently.

“Yah, focus on brushing!” you laughed, nudging him back.

Once you were both done, he led you to his bed and pulled you into his arms under the soft blankets. He wrapped himself around you from behind, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

“Let’s just cuddle and sleep, okay?” he whispered softly. “I don’t want you to feel any pressure.”

You nodded at first, but after a few peaceful minutes, your playful side emerged. You slowly intertwined your fingers with his.

Then you turned around slightly and tangled one of your legs with his, rubbing your foot against his calf. Finally, you started tracing his jawline with your fingertip, moving slowly and seductively.

Yoongi’s breath hitched.

“Y/n…” he warned, voice low. “I said let’s just cuddle and sleep. You’re playing a dangerous game right now.”

You bit your lip, still feeling bold.

You traced lower, down to his neck, pressing a tiny kiss there.

He stayed still for a few seconds, clearly trying to control himself. Then suddenly, he moved.

In one smooth motion, he turned you onto your back and hovered above you, hands on either side of your head. His gaze had completely changed... dark, intense, and full of hunger.

You instantly became shy.

The boldness from a minute ago vanished as you looked up at him, cheeks burning.

“W-we should sleep now…” you mumbled, trying to turn your face away.

Yoongi gently caught your chin, turning you back to face him.

His eyes were soft but burning.

“You were so brave just now, teasing me like that,” he said, voice husky. “Tracing my jaw, rubbing your leg against mine… and now you’re getting all shy when I actually do something?”

You covered your face with your hands, embarrassed. “I was just… testing your patience a little.”

He let out a low chuckle, pulling your hands away so he could see your flushed face.

“Testing my patience?” He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours teasingly. “Baby, I’ve been losing my mind for the past ten minutes trying to behave. You have no idea what you do to me.”

He kissed you slowly at first, then deeper, pouring all his restrained desire into it. His body pressed against yours as one of his hands slid under the hoodie, caressing your bare waist.

“You were bold a second ago,” he whispered against your lips, smiling. “Where did that confidence go, hm?”

“It disappeared when you looked at me like that…” you admitted shyly, voice barely above a whisper.

Yoongi’s expression softened with affection even as heat flared in his eyes.

“Cute,” he murmured, kissing the tip of your nose, then your lips again. “Don’t worry. We’ll go slow. But only if you want this tonight.”

“I want it,” you whispered, finally looking into his eyes again. “I want you, Yoongi.”

That was all he needed.

But every once in a while, a different side of him came out.

A much hungrier, filthier side.

And you liked that side even more.

Like that another night, it started innocently enough after dinner at his place. You were both on the couch, full and relaxed, when a simple goodnight kiss turned into a slow, deep make-out session.

His hands roamed lazily under your shirt at first, then suddenly gripped your waist harder.

Before you knew it, he had pulled you onto his lap, kissing you like he was starving.

The kiss grew messier, wetter.

You were grinding against him when he suddenly growled against your lips, flipped you over, and pulled your hips up so you were on all fours on the couch.

“Fuck, look at you,” he had muttered, voice dangerously low.

He yanked your shorts and panties down in one go, positioning you right in front of the full-length mirror leaning against the wall.

You watched through the reflection as he rolled on a condom. His eyes were dark with lust, jaw clenched with restraint. He rubbed the head of his cock slowly between your folds, teasing your entrance, coating himself in your wetness.

“Yoongi…” you whimpered, pushing back against him desperately.

He let out a low, amused chuckle, still rubbing his thick cock up and down your slick folds, deliberately avoiding pushing inside.

“So impatient,” he murmured, voice rough. “Look at yourself in the mirror, baby. Look how wet you are for me.”

You moaned softly, aching and empty, every slow drag of his cock against your clit making you tremble.

He kept teasing... rubbing, pressing just slightly against your entrance, then pulling back, until you were whimpering and gripping the couch.

Only when you whispered a shaky “Please…” he finally gripped your hip with one hand. His other hand slid up your back and wrapped firmly around your throat—not choking, just possessive... tilting your head so you couldn’t look away from the mirror.

Then, with one smooth, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you completely.

You gasped loudly.

Yoongi leaned over your back, lips brushing your ear as he started fucking you hard, his rhythm punishing.

“Look how pretty you look taking me,” he growled, voice rough and filthy. “Eyes on the mirror, baby. Don’t look away.”

That night he was uncharacteristically rough and vocal—whispering the dirtiest things in your ear while making you watch yourself fall apart.

It left you shaky, breathless, and glowing for days afterward.

One lazy morning, you were sitting at the small dining table in your pajamas, at your rented apartment, sipping tea while scrolling through your phone.

Mina walked in, still half-asleep, and smirked the moment she saw you.

“Morning, miss glowing,” she teased, pouring herself coffee. “You stayed at Yoongi’s last weekend, and your face still has that ‘I got properly loved’ look.”

You laughed, cheeks warming. “Shut up.”

Mina grinned mischievously and sat across from you. “So… be honest. You’ve been dating a whole ass producer for months now. Don’t tell me you still haven’t been railed in the studio?”

You choked hard on your tea, coughing as some of it went down the wrong pipe.

“Mina!” you wheezed, eyes wide.

“What?” she said innocently, but her eyes were sparkling.

“I just read this fanfic about studio sex with a producer and now I can’t stop thinking about it. Girl, you’re literally living the fantasy. He has that expensive studio with the fancy couch and dim lights… and you’re telling me nothing has happened there yet?”

You hid your face in your hands, mortified but laughing. “We’ve done it at his place… multiple times. But the studio feels… I don’t know. Too professional? I keep overthinking it. What if he thinks it’s weird?”

Mina rolled her eyes. “Babe. He’s a guy before a producer. Trust me... the moment you walk in there wearing nothing but one of his hoodies, ‘professionalism’ is the last thing he is going to think about.”

You bit your lip, her words sinking in.

That night, it was ovulation week and your hormones were making you bold.

You texted Yoongi that you were coming over.

When you reached his apartment, he greeted you with a soft kiss and went back to work on a track he was finishing. You told him you’d take a quick shower after your long day... something completely normal now after months of dating.

After showering, you stood in front of his closet, heart racing.

You picked out his favorite oversized black hoodie—the one that reached mid-thigh on you, and slipped it on.

Nothing underneath.

No panties. No bra. Just the hoodie.

You walked into the studio barefoot, the hem of the hoodie brushing against your bare skin with every step.

Yoongi was sitting at his mixing desk, headphones half-on, focused on the screen. He glanced up when you entered and smiled warmly.

“Hey, baby,” he said, voice soft. “Shower felt good?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, walking closer. “I stole your hoodie again. Hope you don’t mind.”

“You know I never mind,” he replied, eyes flicking over you affectionately. “You look cute in it. Come here.”

He patted his lap.

You walked over and sat sideways on his thigh like you usually did. His arm wrapped around your waist naturally as he went back to tweaking the track.

For a few minutes, everything felt normal. He played a part of the beat for you, asking for your opinion. You gave feedback while subtly shifting in his lap.

“You okay?” he asked after a while, noticing you seemed a little restless. His hand rubbed your thigh gently. “You’re moving a lot tonight.”

“I’m fine,” you said innocently, leaning back against his chest. “Just like being close to you.”

He kissed the side of your head, completely unaware.

You turned slightly, letting the hoodie ride up a little higher on your thighs as you “adjusted” again. His hand that was resting on your bare thigh stilled.

Yoongi paused the track.

“Wait…” His voice dropped lower.

His fingers slowly traced higher under the hem of the hoodie. The moment they met nothing but warm, smooth skin, his whole body tensed beneath you.

Then he felt it—the unmistakable warm, wet patch slowly forming on the front of his grey sweatpants where your bare core was pressed against him.

“Y/n,” he said slowly, voice suddenly much lower and rougher, almost strained. “Are you… not wearing anything under this?”

You bit your lip, heart racing with excitement and nervousness as you looked at him over your shoulder.

“Maybe…” you teased, voice sweet. “Is that a problem?”

His eyes darkened instantly.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, breathing out a soft laugh.

His hand squeezed your thigh tighter as he shifted slightly underneath you, clearly feeling the wetness now soaking through his sweats.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned softly, eyes darkening. “You’re sitting on my lap with no panties on and you’re already wet? You’ve been dripping on me this whole time?”

His free hand came up to grip your waist, fingers digging in just enough to show his growing restraint.

“You little tease,” he muttered, voice husky with both amusement and arousal. “I thought you just wanted to wear my hoodie like always… but you came in here bare and soaked? How long have you been planning this?”

You smiled shyly, turning more to face him, which only pressed your wetness harder against the growing bulge in his sweats.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” you admitted, running your fingers along the collar of his hoodie. “Mina kept teasing me about how I’m dating a producer and still haven’t done anything in the studio… and guess I got curious.”

Yoongi let out a breathy chuckle, but his eyes were burning now. He slid his hand further under the hoodie, cupping your bare ass as he pulled you closer.

“So you decided to come in here, fresh out of my shower, wearing nothing underneath my hoodie… and sit right on my dick like a good girl?”

He leaned in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’re going to ruin my sweats, baby. You feel how wet you are? You’re making a mess all over me.”

You shivered at his words, cheeks burning but loving the way his voice had changed... still soft with affection, but now laced with clear hunger.

“Are you mad?” you asked playfully, even though you could feel him getting harder beneath you.

“Mad?” He laughed lowly, pressing a wet kiss just below your ear. “No. But you’re not leaving this studio anytime soon looking all innocent like this.”

His fingers traced teasing circles on your bare skin, dangerously close but not quite there yet.

“You really want to do this here?” he asked, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze flicking between playful and intense. “Because once I start, I’m not going to be gentle with you, baby.”

You smiled, heat pooling between your legs at his words. You reached up and slowly traced his jaw with your fingertip, dragging it seductively down to his neck.

“Good thing I’m ovulating then,” you whispered, voice breathy and teasing. “Gentle is the last thing I want tonight.”

Yoongi’s breath hitched.

He stared at you for a second before letting out a deep, amused chuckle that sounded almost sinful.

“Fuck… you’re going to be the death of me.” He leaned in and bit your bottom lip lightly before pulling back.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this. Sitting here working late nights, thinking about bending you over this mixing desk… or fucking you against the piano… or having you ride me right in this chair.”

His hands slid under the hoodie, gripping your bare ass as he continued, voice rough, “That’s why I put condoms in every fucking drawer in this apartment now. Kitchen, living room, bedroom… and yes, even in the studio. I can literally fuck you on every surface of this place and I’ve thought about all of them.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, a shy but thrilled laugh escaping you.

“Yoongi!” you gasped, playfully hitting his chest. “You’ve been planning this?”

“Planning? Baby, I’ve been dreaming about it,” he admitted, eyes gleaming. “Now stop teasing and show me how wet you really are.”

He shifted you slightly so you were straddling one of his thighs properly, your bare, soaked pussy pressed directly against the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants.

The warmth of his thigh felt incredible against your sensitive skin.

“Ride it,” he commanded softly, hands guiding your hips. “Ride my thigh and make a mess all over my sweats like the needy little thing you are.”

You moaned softly at his words and started moving.

Slowly at first, grinding your wet folds along the firm muscle of his thigh. The friction was perfect, and the way your slick was already coating his pants made obscene wet sounds with every roll of your hips.

“Fuck… look at you,” Yoongi groaned, eyes locked on where your pussy was sliding against him. “Soaking me already. Such a messy girl.”

He pushed the hoodie up to your neck, exposing your breasts. His hands immediately cupped them, squeezing roughly before his thumbs flicked over your hardened nipples.

“Ah— Yoongi…” you whimpered, grinding harder.

“That’s it, baby. Use my thigh,” he praised, voice low and filthy.

“Look how desperate you are, humping me like you can’t get enough. My pretty little girlfriend came in here with no panties just to get fucked in my studio… so fucking hot.”

He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard while his other hand pinched and rolled the other one.

The mix of rough and wet felt electric.

You cried out, moving faster on his thigh, the wet patch on his sweats growing bigger with every glide.

“Mmm... fuck, you taste so good,” he growled against your breast, sucking harder before pulling off with a wet pop. “These pretty tits are mine. Say it.”

“They’re yours—” you gasped, riding his thigh faster, the pressure building quickly between your legs.

“Louder, baby. Tell me who this wet little pussy belongs to while you ruin my pants.”

“It’s yours, Yoongi... ahh!” you moaned loudly as he bit down gently on your nipple, then soothed it with his tongue.

He leaned back slightly to watch you, one hand still playing with your breasts, pinching and tugging while the other gripped your hip, helping you grind harder.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmured, voice dripping with lust and affection.

“Riding my thigh like a desperate filthy girl but still blushing so cutely. I love this duality in you, baby. My sweet university girl in public… and my filthy little girl in my studio.”

Your breathing grew ragged.

The combination of his filthy words, the rough treatment of your nipples, and the perfect pressure on your clit was pushing you close to the edge.

“I’m... I’m gonna cum—” you whimpered, grinding faster, your wetness now completely soaking through his sweats.

“Cum for me then,” he growled, sucking your nipple into his mouth again, harder this time. “Make a bigger mess on me, baby. I want to feel you dripping down my thigh.”

He pinched your other nipple sharply and that was all it took.

You came hard with a loud cry of his name, your body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your hips stuttered against his thigh as you rode out your orgasm, leaving a shiny, wet patch all over his grey sweats.

Yoongi groaned at the sight, finally pulling his mouth off your nipple with a satisfied smirk. He kept rubbing slow circles on your hips as you came down, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered tenderly, the duality hitting you hard again — filthy one second, soft and loving the next. “Look at the mess you made… my dirty little ovulating princess.”

You collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily, a shy smile forming on your lips as you nuzzled into his neck. His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back, but the wicked smirk on his lips told you he wasn’t nearly done.

“I can’t believe I just did that…” you mumbled, embarrassed but glowing.

Yoongi chuckled and kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you. “And we’re just getting started, baby.”

Before you could respond, he lifted you effortlessly and placed you on the edge of his mixing desk. The surface was cool against your bare ass, various knobs and faders pressing into your skin. He pushed the hoodie all the way up to your neck again, fully exposing your body to his hungry gaze.

“Spread your legs for me,” he said softly, voice laced with command.

You obeyed, parting your thighs.

Yoongi stepped between them, eyes dropping to your soaked pussy. He let out a low groan at the sight.

“Fuck… look at this pretty mess,” he whispered, running two fingers through your dripping folds. “You’re still so wet. My greedy girl.”

You shivered at his touch, already sensitive. “Yoongi…”

He leaned in and kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours as he slowly pushed two fingers inside you. You gasped into his mouth at the stretch, your walls clenching around his thick digits.

“That’s it,” he breathed against your lips. “Take my fingers, baby.”

He started moving them slowly at first, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot inside you. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping into your soaked pussy filled the studio.

“Oh my god—” you moaned, gripping his shoulders.

Yoongi pulled back slightly to watch your face, his eyes dark with lust.

“You like that?” he asked, voice husky. “You like getting fingered on my mixing desk like a good girl?”

He picked up the pace, fucking his fingers into you harder while his thumb found your swollen clit and started rubbing tight circles.

“Answer me, baby.”

“Yes— fuck, yes I like it,” you whimpered, hips rolling to meet his hand.

He smirked, clearly pleased. “Good girl. Look at you… sitting on my desk with my hoodie pushed up, legs spread open just for me. So fucking perfect.”

His fingers curled again, pressing firmly against your g-spot with every thrust. The pleasure built rapidly, especially with how sensitive you already were from your previous orgasm.

Yoongi leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth again, sucking hard while his fingers kept their relentless rhythm. He released it with a wet pop and looked up at you.

“You’re clenching so tight around my fingers,” he groaned. “You gonna cum again for me already? So soon?”

“I can’t help it—” you gasped, head falling back. “You feel so good…”

He added a third finger, stretching you more as he pumped faster.

His thumb pressed harder on your clit.

“That’s right, baby. Make a mess on my desk too. I want this entire studio to smell like your pussy by the time I’m done with you.”

Your moans grew louder, echoing softly in the soundproofed room. Yoongi watched you intently, his free hand coming up to gently grip your jaw so you’d look at him.

“Eyes on me when you cum,” he ordered, though his voice was still full of affection. “I want to see how pretty you look falling apart on my fingers.”

The combination of his filthy words, the perfect angle of his fingers, and the intense eye contact pushed you over the edge again.

“Yoongi... I’m cumming—!” you cried out.

Your second orgasm hit you even harder.

Your thighs shook as you clenched violently around his fingers, a fresh gush of wetness coating his hand and dripping onto the mixing desk. Yoongi kept fucking you through it, slowing his movements but not stopping, drawing out every wave of pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he praised, voice thick with pride and lust. “Look at you soaking my desk… such a good, messy baby.”

He finally slipped his fingers out of you gently and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean while maintaining eye contact. The sight made your stomach flip.

“You taste even better when you’re ovulating,” he said with a wicked little smile.

You were still panting, legs trembling as you tried to recover. Yoongi stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you softly this time—sweet and tender, a sharp contrast to how rough his fingers had just been.

He rested his forehead against yours, brushing your hair back gently.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, voice now soft and caring. “Not too much?”

You shook your head, smiling breathlessly. “No… I want more.”

Yoongi chuckled lowly, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Good. Because I still have so many plans for you tonight.”

Yoongi kissed you deeply for a moment longer, then gently lifted you off the mixing desk. Your legs were still shaky, so he carried you bridal-style over to the large, comfortable black couch in the corner of his studio.

He laid you down carefully on your back, the soft cushions sinking under your weight. The oversized hoodie was still bunched up around your chest. He pulled it down a little to cover your stomach.

“Stay right here, baby,” he said softly, brushing damp strands of hair from your forehead. “You came so hard twice already. Let me take care of you for a while.”

He reached over to the small side table and grabbed a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap before holding it to your lips.

“Drink,” he ordered gently. “You need it.”

You took a few sips, still breathing heavily. Yoongi watched you with soft, loving eyes, his thumb stroking your cheek.

“Good girl,” he praised quietly. “How are you feeling?”

“Really good,” you whispered, smiling up at him. “But little sensitive…”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss your forehead, then your nose, then your lips.

“You’re doing so well for me tonight. My pretty, needy baby.” He kissed you again, slower this time. “Just relax for a bit. I’m not rushing.”

After a couple of minutes of him gently rubbing your thighs and kissing your neck, your breathing finally evened out. Yoongi’s hand started sliding higher again, teasingly stroking the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“Think you can handle more?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yes… I want you.”

He smirked and moved down your body, settling between your legs on the couch. He spread your thighs wide, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned. “Still so wet and puffy for me.”

Without another word, he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up your slit, collecting every drop of your wetness.

The moment your taste hit his tongue, he groaned deeply, like he’d been craving this for days.

He didn’t stop there.

Yoongi buried his face completely between your thighs, drowning himself in your pussy. He pressed his nose against your soaked folds and inhaled deeply, sniffing you with raw hunger before letting out a long, satisfied “Mhhhhmmmm…” that vibrated straight through your core.

The sound was filthy and needy, almost animalistic.

“God, baby… you smell so fucking good,” he growled against your pussy, voice muffled. “Especially when you’re ovulating. So sweet and wet… I could suffocate in this pussy and die happy.”

You whimpered loudly, your fingers tightening in his hair as he dove back in.

“Yoongi—!”

“Mhmm,” he hummed against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body. “You taste so filthy good, baby. Especially when you’re like this.”

He didn’t tease for long.

He ate you like a man possessed—messy, greedy, and completely lost in you.

His tongue licked broad, slow stripes before flicking rapidly over your swollen clit. He sucked your folds into his mouth, then moved back to your clit, alternating between gentle sucks and harsh flicks.

Every few seconds, he’d press his face deeper, nose rubbing against your clit while his tongue pushed inside you, fucking you with it. He kept making those sinful “Mhmmmm… mmmph—” sounds as he devoured you, like your taste was driving him insane.

“Oh my god... Yoongi, that feels so good,” you whimpered, your hands flying to his hair.

He pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny with your juices.

“Yeah? You like when I eat this pretty pussy?” He licked a long stripe up your folds again. “You get so much wetter when you’re ovulating. I could stay here for hours.”

He pushed two fingers back inside you while his tongue focused on your clit, curling his fingers perfectly against your g-spot. The wet, sloppy sounds of him eating you out filled the studio.

“Fuck... right there,” you cried, hips bucking against his face.

Yoongi groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your core. He sucked harder on your clit and pumped his fingers faster.

“You’re dripping down my chin, baby. Making such a mess on my couch. My dirty little girl.”

Your thighs started shaking around his head. “I’m... I’m gonna cum again... Yoongi please—”

But every time you got close, every time your thighs started trembling and your moans got higher, he would slow down or pull back just a little—edging you cruelly while still burying his face in you.

“Not yet,” he whispered against your soaked folds, placing a soft kiss on your clit. “I want you to fucking throb for me.”

Then he dove back in even harder—sniffing, licking, sucking, and groaning like he couldn’t get enough. His fingers pumped faster while his tongue flicked relentlessly over your clit.

“Mhhhhmm… fuck, I love this,” he groaned, the vibrations making your eyes roll back. “I could eat you for hours like this. My favorite fucking meal.”

Your legs were shaking uncontrollably around his head. You were so close it hurt. “Yoongi, please— I’m so close, please don’t stop...”

He hummed deeply again, the sound vibrating right against your clit as he sucked harder and curled his fingers perfectly.

This time... he didn’t stop.

If anything, he went harder—sucking your clit with wet, obscene noises while his fingers fucked you relentlessly.

“Cum on my tongue, baby. Let me taste you,” he growled against your pussy.

Your third orgasm crashed over you violently.

You cried out his name, thighs clamping around his head as you gushed on his tongue. Yoongi moaned loudly, licking up every drop like it was his favorite thing in the world, not stopping until you were twitching and whimpering from overstimulation.

He finally pulled back, lips and chin glistening.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and crawled up your body, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his tongue.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered against your lips. “I could eat you out all night.”

You were panting, eyes glassy with pleasure. “Yoongi… I need you inside me. Please.”

He kissed you again, softer this time. “You sure, baby? You’ve already come three times.”

“I want you,” you begged, pulling at his hoodie. “I need you to fuck me.”

Yoongi chuckled and reached into the drawer of the side table next to the couch, pulling out a condom.

He quickly pushed down his sweatpants and boxers, his hard cock springing free. He was painfully hard, the tip already leaking. He rolled the condom on while watching your face.

“Come here, baby,” he said, voice thick with need.

He pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him on the couch. He lined himself up and slowly sank you down onto his cock, both of you moaning loudly at the feeling.

“Fuck… so tight,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “You feel incredible.”

He gave you a moment to adjust before starting to thrust up into you, hands gripping your ass under the hoodie. The pace was deep and steady at first, but quickly grew rougher.

“Ride me, baby,” he encouraged, voice rough. “Use my cock. This is what you wanted, right? Getting fucked properly in my studio?”

You moaned, rolling your hips as he thrust up to meet you. The sound of skin slapping and your combined moans filled the room.

“Yes— God, yes,” you gasped. “Feels so good, Yoongi…”

He pulled the hoodie off you completely, tossing it aside so he could see all of you. His hands roamed everywhere—squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples, gripping your waist as he fucked you harder.

“That’s my girl,” he growled, looking up at you with pure lust and affection. “Look at you bouncing on my cock so prettily. My perfect girl.”

He suddenly flipped you onto your back on the couch, pushing your legs back toward your chest and thrusting deep.

“Want to fuck you properly now,” he panted, pounding into you with strong, rhythmic strokes. “Want you to feel every inch.”

You cried out with every thrust, nails digging into his back. He kissed you messily, swallowing your moans while driving into you harder.

“Cum for me one more time, baby,” he whispered hotly against your ear. “Want to feel you squeezing my cock when you cum.”

Between his deep thrusts and filthy praises, you shattered again, clenching hard around him as your fourth orgasm ripped through you.

Yoongi followed right after with a deep groan, burying himself to the hilt as he came hard inside the condom, hips stuttering against yours.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily and covered in sweat. After a moment, he lifted his head and kissed you softly, sweetly—completely different from how he’d just fucked you.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, voice gentle. “You’re amazing.”

You smiled tiredly, running your fingers through his damp hair. “I love you too… even if you just ruined me for any other couch.”

Yoongi laughed softly and nuzzled into your neck, still buried inside you. “Good. Because we’re definitely doing this again.”

It was a special alumni event at your university—a panel discussion on “The Future of Music Production in Korea.” The auditorium was packed with students and faculty.

You had come because your professor practically begged the class to attend, saying it would be beneficial for your research paper.

You were sitting near the middle when the three guests walked onto the stage.

Your heart nearly stopped.

There, in a simple black blazer over a white t-shirt, was Yoongi. Standing casually between two other men... RM and J-Hope.

Your eyes widened in complete shock.

No way…

He had mentioned last night that he had a “surprise” for you today, but you never imagined this.

The moment the MC introduced them, the auditorium erupted.

“Suga!!! Oh my god, it’s really him!”

“RM! J-Hope!”

Girls in the front rows started squealing, some even standing up to take photos. You watched in stunned silence as dozens of phones went up, flashing lights everywhere.

Yoongi looked slightly uncomfortable with the attention but gave a small, polite bow along with his friends.

Your professor leaned over from the row behind you. “See? Even Suga rarely comes to these events. This is historic!”

You could only nod, still speechless.

After the panel ended, you received a text from Yoongi.

Yoongi: Meet me behind the old basketball court in 10 minutes... It's the same place I used to hide during my student days.

You slipped out of the auditorium, heart racing, and made your way to the secluded spot behind the basketball court—a quiet, shaded area with an old bench surrounded by tall trees and bushes.

Hardly anyone came here.

Yoongi was already waiting, leaning against a tree. The moment he saw you, his entire face softened into that fond smile you loved so much. Before you could speak, he pulled you into a warm hug, burying his face in your hair.

“You sneaky bastard,” you laughed against his chest, still in disbelief. “You studied here? And you never told me?”

He chuckled, kissing the top of your head. “You were surprised, huh?”

“Surprised?” You laughed against his chest. “Yoongi, I almost had a heart attack! I had no idea you studied here!”

He chuckled, pulling back to look at you. “I graduated six years ago. I’ve been invited every year with Namjoon and Hoseok, but I always said no. This time… I had a reason to come.”

You smiled up at him, feeling warm all over. “Me?”

“You.”

You pulled back slightly and looked up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“So you’re really a big deal, huh?” you teased, poking his chest. “All those girls screaming for you in the auditorium… I almost got jealous.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on his lips.

“Does it matter?” he asked softly, cupping your face.

You shook your head, smiling sweetly.

“No… It doesn’t matter at all. I love you, Min Yoongi. Not Suga... the famous producer. I fell for the guy who made me feel seen in foreign city on that rooftop bar, guy who made me coffee at 10 AM and helped me with my surface-level paper.”

His eyes softened with pure affection. He leaned in closer, nose brushing against yours.

“Good answer,” he whispered.

You grinned and continued teasing, voice playful, “But those girls were really going crazy for you back there. Some of them looked ready to climb the stage.”

Yoongi let out a low laugh, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Does that matter too?” he asked, tilting his head.

You pretended to think for a second, then stood on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Nope,” you said confidently. “Because even if hundreds of girls go crazy for you… you only go crazy for me.”

Yoongi’s smile turned fond and slightly shy. “You’re damn right about that.”

The air between you shifted.

He leaned in slowly, capturing your lips in a soft, sweet kiss that quickly grew deeper. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss turned heated. You sighed into his mouth, fingers threading through his hair.

Just as his tongue brushed yours and things were getting very nice—

“Heyyy! Caught you!”

You gasped and suddenly pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide.

J-Hope’s cheerful voice rang out from behind Yoongi.

“Namjoon-ah, I told you we’d find him here! This was always his secret spot back in the day!”

RM’s deep voice followed, sounding amused, “Oh… but he’s not alone.”

Yoongi groaned, closing his eyes for a second before turning around, still keeping one arm around your waist.

J-Hope stood there with a massive grin, while RM looked surprised but clearly entertained, dimples on full display.

J-Hope let out a loud whistle. “Ooooh~ So this is why you finally agreed to come back to campus after avoiding it for years? Interesting…”

Yoongi sighed, ears turning slightly pink. “You two are so annoying.”

You hid your burning face in Yoongi’s shoulder, completely embarrassed at being caught.

Yoongi gently rubbed your back and spoke calmly, “This is Y/n. My girlfriend.”

RM’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Girlfriend? Wow. Nice to meet you, Y/n. I’m Namjoon.”

J-Hope bounced over with a bright smile, offering you a hand. “And I’m Hoseok! But you can call me Hobi. So you’re the mysterious girl who finally dragged this grandpa out of his cave, huh?”

You laughed shyly, shaking both their hands. “It’s really nice to meet you both. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Only good things, I hope,” RM said, glancing at Yoongi with a teasing smirk. “Because this hyung barely talks about anything except music… and apparently now you.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his small smile. He kept you tucked protectively against his side.

“She’s the reason I came,” he admitted quietly, looking at you with soft eyes. “She studies here. Post Graduation in Music Theory.”

Hobi’s jaw dropped dramatically. “Wait— she goes to our university?! And you didn’t tell us? This is huge!”

RM chuckled. “Looks like our Yoongi-hyung is properly whipped.”

You giggled, glancing up at Yoongi who was now fully blushing.

“I’m not whipped,” Yoongi muttered, but the way he gently kissed your temple right after completely betrayed him.

Hobi clapped his hands together excitedly. “This is adorable. We need to get dinner together soon! All four of us.”

“Only if you two behave,” Yoongi warned, but there was no real threat in his voice.

You leaned into him, feeling warm and happy as you watched the three friends bicker lightly. Yoongi’s hand found yours, fingers intertwining naturally.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said, gently tugging you closer. “You two go back. I still have twenty minutes before I need to be anywhere.”

J-Hope winked. “Use your time wisely~”

As the two walked away, still laughing and teasing, Yoongi turned back to you and rested his forehead against yours.

“Sorry about them,” he murmured.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around him. “I like them. And I like that I finally know more about your past.”

He kissed the tip of your nose. “There’s still so much more I want to show you.”

You smiled, heart full. “I can’t wait, Suga sunbaenim.”

Yoongi groaned playfully and pulled you into another sweet kiss.