Still With You - JK - MDNI - MASTERLIST

Still with you - JK - MDNI - MASTERLIST

pairings : ex!jk x ex!reader, yoongi x reader

genre : fluff, angst

context : after breaking up with your boyfriend for 14 years for cheating on you, choosing to still stay with him in his apartment wasn't quite the best idea. especially after seperating.

warnings/contents : smut, mentions of ppregnancy, cheating, rape, unprotected sex, alcoholism, degrading, and this jungkook should be a warning.

part one

part two

part three

part four

special 0

special 1

special 2

special 3

special 4

special final

If i were you i'd do me - JK - MDNI - 5

pairings : fuckboy! jk x fem! reader, established relationship, mentions of smart! namjoon x oc, slow burn, enemies to lovers

contents/warninss : angst, no smut for now, a bunch of suprises

taglist : comment if you wanna be added to my taglists) @crazyovayou@sinfullygay@minghaosimp

word count: 3k words, kinda short

context : Jungkook, the notorious campus heartbreaker and player, unexpectedly becomes your groupmate alongside Namjoon, the guy you’ve secretly admired for ages. However, it seems your feelings have started shifting from Namjoon to someone else entirely unexpected…

Not proofread

Keep reading

It’s been a week since everything happened. Since that night that turned my world upside down. Since I found out Jungkook—Jeon Jungkook, the person I thought I knew—was the same guy entertaining that girl on the phone with those sickly sweet words. “Kookie baby, I miss you. Can I come over?” Those words have been etched into my mind, replaying over and over like a broken record I can’t turn off.

Seven days I’ve been locked in my room, shutting out the world. I’ve skipped all my classes. I’ve ignored every single text and call that’s come through my phone. It’s like I’ve shut down entirely. My friends? They’ve been worried. I know that much. I can feel it in the incessant knocks on my door, the texts from Hoseok growing increasingly concerned, and the phone calls from Namjoon asking if I’m alright.

I’ve responded to none of them. Because how could I possibly explain what’s going on? How could I possibly explain the whirlwind of emotions that’s tearing me apart inside, dragging me under until I can barely breathe?

I hear a knock on the door, again. I groan, curling up tighter beneath the covers, as if I can disappear entirely if I wish hard enough.

“Y/N,” Hoseok’s voice sounds from the other side. “I’m not leaving until you open up.”

I don’t respond. Maybe if I stay silent, he’ll go away.

“You’ve been in there for a week. You can’t keep doing this,” he continues, more forceful this time. “Today’s the presentation, Y/N. Namjoon’s worried. He’s been asking about you.”

My stomach twists. Right. The presentation. How could I forget? Namjoon’s been depending on me for weeks to get through this group project, and now I’m just blowing it all off. Great. Another thing to feel guilty about.

I pull the covers over my head, blocking out the light and Hoseok’s voice. But he’s not giving up this time.

“Y/N, if you don’t get up now, I’m breaking this door down. I swear I will,” Hoseok threatens, his voice full of frustration. But beneath that, I can hear it—concern. He’s worried.

I sigh, kicking the covers off. There’s no way Hoseok’s going to let this go. And honestly? He’s right. I’ve been hiding, running away from everything because I’m scared. Scared of seeing Jungkook again. Scared of what I’ll feel when I do. Scared of what I might do or say.

With shaky hands, I grab my phone from the nightstand and check the time. I’ve got maybe an hour before class starts.

I’m going to have to face Jungkook eventually. I can’t hide forever.

“I’m getting ready,” I mutter, loud enough for Hoseok to hear through the door.

I hear a sigh of relief from the other side. “Finally,” Hoseok says. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

As soon as I hear his footsteps retreat down the hall, I get up, running my hands through my messy hair. I look like a wreck, and I feel worse. But I have to push through it. I have to go to class. I have to face him.

The walk to class feels like I’m trudging through quicksand. Every step is heavy, weighed down by the anxiety bubbling in my chest. Hoseok doesn’t say much, but I can feel his gaze on me the whole time, as if he’s afraid I’ll turn around and run back to my room.

When we get to the classroom, my stomach drops. I can already feel the tension creeping in, like a tightening in my chest.

And there he is—Jungkook, sitting with his group at the front of the room, looking completely unbothered. Like he hasn’t been tearing me apart for days.

I sit down beside Namjoon, and he gives me a worried glance. “You good?” he whispers.

I nod stiffly, even though I’m anything but good. But what can I say? That I’ve been falling apart over a guy who clearly doesn’t give a damn? That I’ve been spiraling because I thought… maybe I was different?

No. I can’t.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

Namjoon doesn’t seem convinced, but thankfully, he doesn’t push it. The professor starts class, and I try to focus, but my mind is all over the place. I can’t stop glancing at Jungkook from the corner of my eye. He hasn’t looked at me once. Not even a single glance.

Then, out of nowhere, a crumpled-up piece of paper lands on my desk.

I blink, confused, before unfolding it.

“Please stop ignoring me. Hear me out first.”

My heart skips a beat, and I glance toward Jungkook. He’s still not looking at me, but I know it’s from him. Who else would it be?

Another crumpled-up paper lands on my desk, this one more wrinkled than the last. I open it cautiously.

“Let’s talk later after the presentation? Yes [ ] Yes [ ]”

A small giggle escapes me, despite myself. The absurdity of it is almost funny. Of course, he’d give me no other option. Of course, he’d do something ridiculous like this.

But then reality hits me. This isn’t funny. This isn’t cute. This is him, once again, playing with me like I’m some kind of toy.

I crumple the paper back up, throwing it to the side. I can’t afford to be swayed by him. Not again. Not after everything.

Finally, it’s our turn to present. Namjoon stands confidently beside me as we go over our points, but I’m barely holding it together. My mind keeps drifting back to Jungkook. I can feel his eyes on me now, watching every move I make, but I refuse to look at him.

Focus. I have to focus.

But when it’s Jungkook’s turn to present, it is so not related to our topic...I can’t help but listen. He starts talking about Shakespeare, about love and tragedy and how easily things can be ruined by miscommunication.

His words hit too close to home, like he’s speaking directly to me. And maybe he is. His eyes flicker toward me, just for a second, and my heart clenches in my chest.

Is he doing this on purpose? Does he know what he’s doing to me?

He talks about how love isn’t easy, how it’s messy and painful, but it’s real. How sometimes, the people we care about the most are the ones we hurt the most. It’s like he’s pulling the words straight from my mind, saying everything I’ve been too afraid to admit.

By the time he’s done, I’m shaken. My hands are trembling as I sit down, trying to process what just happened.

I can’t do this. I need to get out of here.

As soon as class ends, I stand there, my hands trembling as I gather my books, trying to hold myself together. I can feel Jungkook's presence looming behind me, like a storm about to crash. Every nerve in my body is on high alert, knowing he’s not going to let me leave without saying something. The weight of his stare is unbearable.

“Y/N,” his voice is soft, but I can hear the tension in it, the frustration lacing every syllable. “We need to talk. Please.”

I don’t even turn to look at him. My jaw clenches, my vision blurring as tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I can’t do this. Not with him. Not when I’m barely holding myself together. I shove my books into my bag, my breath shaky as I speak, my voice cold and sharp.

“Why don’t you go talk to your ‘Kookie baby, I miss you, can I come over?’ girl,” I spit, the venom dripping from my words, my heart pounding in my chest. “Stop using me for once.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, the tension in the air thickens, but I don’t care. I don’t even care how cruel I sound because this is my reality—this is what he’s done to me.

Jungkook steps forward, his voice growing desperate. “Y/N, it’s not like that—”

“Not like that?” I whip around to face him, my voice cracking with disbelief. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Jungkook! I heard her. I heard the way she talked to you, like you’re something she can just call up whenever she feels like it. Like I don’t even fucking matter.”

He flinches at my words, his face crumbling in front of me. But I can’t stop. I’m unraveling, and there’s no going back now.

“You think it’s easy to love you?” I laugh bitterly, my chest heaving as the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over. “You think it’s easy to want you, need you, when you’re always all over the place? Fuck this girl, fuck that girl. You think it’s easy for me to keep caring about you when you—” My voice breaks, and I have to pause to catch my breath. “You know what? Never mind.”

I try to push past him, desperate to get away before I completely fall apart, but Jungkook grabs my wrist, pulling me back. His eyes are wide, frantic. “Wait—”

“No,” I snap, wrenching my arm out of his grip. “I’m done. I’m going home.”

“Y/N, stop!” His voice rises, panic creeping into his tone as he steps in front of me, blocking my way. His chest is heaving now, his eyes wild with frustration. “You don’t get it. You don’t fucking get it!”

I meet his gaze, my eyes filled with hurt and anger. “What don’t I get, Jungkook? Huh? What am I missing here?”

He’s silent for a moment, his hands shaking as he runs them through his hair. He looks torn, like he’s grappling with something he can’t bring himself to say. And then, finally, he snaps.

“I have been in love with you since the first year!” His voice is raw, filled with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat. “You think it’s easy for me? You think it’s easy trying to pretend like I don’t feel anything when I’ve been fucking obsessed with you this whole time?”

My breath catches in my throat. He’s looking at me like he’s just torn open his chest and laid everything bare, and I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know how to process it.

“W-What?” I stammer, completely thrown off balance.

Jungkook steps closer, his voice trembling with emotion. “I tried, Y/N. I tried so fucking hard not to feel this way. I tried to distract myself, tried to find someone else who could make me forget, but no matter what I did, it was always you. It’s always been you.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. This is the confession I’ve wanted for so long, the words I thought I’d never hear from him. But instead of feeling relief, all I feel is anger. Anger because this—this is what he chose to do with it?

“You think that’s supposed to make it better?” My voice cracks, the hurt spilling over as I stare at him, my hands trembling. “You think that’s supposed to fix everything? That you’ve been fucking other girls, using them to distract yourself from me?”

“Y/N—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off, my voice sharp. “Don’t you dare try to justify this. You made me feel like I was just another one of your stupid hookups. And now you expect me to believe that you love me? That it was all because of me?”

His face contorts with frustration, and he takes a step closer, his voice rising again. “Yes! Because no matter how hard I fucking tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about you! Every time I was with someone else, all I could think about was you, okay? It’s always been you, Y/N. You’re the one I can’t get out of my head.”

Tears blur my vision as I shake my head, backing away from him. “I don’t believe you.”

Jungkook’s expression hardens, his eyes dark with determination. “Then I’ll make you.”

Before I can even react, he grabs my face, his lips crashing against mine. The kiss is rough, desperate, like he’s trying to pour every unspoken word, every ounce of emotion into it. And for a moment, I let myself get lost in it. In him.

But then reality crashes down, and I pull away, gasping for air. “Jungkook, stop.”

He doesn’t let go. His hands grip my face, his forehead pressing against mine as he whispers, his voice raspy and broken. “I’ll show you how much I’ve been loving you. I’ll show you how much you mean to me.”

My heart shatters at his words, and I choke back a sob, my hands pushing weakly against his chest. “You can’t fix this with a kiss, Jungkook. You can’t just—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupts, his voice raw with desperation. “I don’t care if it’s messy or complicated. I just… I need you, Y/N. I need you to believe me. Please.”

I break. The walls I’ve spent so long building come crashing down, and I collapse into him, my body trembling as sobs wrack my frame.

“I can’t,” I cry, my hands clutching his shirt as I bury my face in his chest. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep letting you break my heart.”

Jungkook wraps his arms around me, holding me tight as if he’s afraid I’ll slip away. His voice is low, trembling with emotion as he whispers, “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I love you,” he says, his voice breaking. “I love you, Y/N. And I know I’ve messed up, but I need you to know that I’ve always loved you and i know you do too.

“Now that I finally have you, I don’t want to lose you, Y/N… please, just give me a chance,” he whispered softly, his breath warm against my ear. His words ignited a flicker of hope within me, yet the fear of vulnerability loomed large.

“Can you… can you stay at mine tonight?” I asked, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions. I felt exposed, raw, but deep down, I craved the comfort of his presence.

He nodded, a gentle smile spreading across his face, reassuring me in ways words couldn't. “Yeah, I’ll drive us there.” His voice was steady, and as we pulled away from the embrace, I felt a rush of gratitude wash over me.

As we stepped outside, the evening air was cool against my flushed skin. We climbed into Jungkook's sleek white Mustang, and I could feel the tension starting to melt away, replaced by a tentative sense of hope. The ride was quiet but not uncomfortable; it was a silence filled with unspoken words and emotions we were both still trying to process.

My eyes were still slightly puffy from crying, but I managed to steal glances at him as he focused on the road. Jungkook had a way of drawing me in, his presence captivating and soothing all at once. The soft hum of the engine accompanied the pounding of my heart, and I wondered if he could hear it too.

Finally, we arrived in front of my house. The street was quiet, the only sounds coming from the rustling leaves and the distant hum of traffic. Before he could say anything, I gathered my courage and asked, “Who was that girl?”

Jungkook took a deep breath, steadying himself before responding. “It’s Yeji. My hookup from four weeks ago who can’t seem to take a hint.” His tone was calm, but I could sense the frustration beneath it.

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my voice steady. “Because if you have a girlfriend, I can back up.”

He chuckled lightly, a sound that filled me with a strange mixture of annoyance and affection. “No, Y/N. It’s not like that at all.” He fished out his phone and handed it to me. “The password is your birthday. You can check our conversation; I’m not lying.”

My cheeks flushed at his trust in me, and I hesitated for a moment before entering the password. The phone unlocked, and I quickly navigated to his messages. As I scanned through, I saw only a few texts from Yeji, mostly her attempting to initiate plans while Jungkook’s responses were short and dismissive.

The relief that washed over me was palpable, but jealousy simmered just beneath the surface. I clicked the options button and, on impulse, I blocked her. Handing the phone back to him, I stated firmly, “I blocked her. No one better call you like that again, or else I will really not talk to you ever.”

Jungkook’s laughter was genuine, and it made my heart flutter. “You jealous?” he teased, a playful smirk dancing across his lips.

“Shut up,” I retorted, trying to sound annoyed, but the corners of my mouth betrayed me, threatening to lift into a smile.

As we entered the house, the familiar scent of home enveloped me. My heart raced, still throbbing with the emotions of the day. The kitchen was alive with warmth; my mom was cooking, humming to herself, while Hoseok leaned against the counter, a serious expression on his face.

“Y/N! You’re back!” My mom looked up and smiled, her face lighting up at the sight of me. “How was your day?”

“Y/N… I need to talk to you about something,” Hoseok said, his voice low and serious.

I felt my heart drop, an unsettling feeling creeping into my chest. “What’s going on, Hobi?” I asked, glancing nervously at Jungkook, who was watching the exchange closely.

He straightened, his eyes focused on me as he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “I got a DNA test for me and your mom,” he said, taking a deep breath. “And… here.” He handed me the papers, his hands shaking slightly.

As I unfolded the document, my eyes widened at the bold letters: “100% related.” My mind raced as I struggled to comprehend the implications. “ No way…” I murmured, my breath catching in my throat.

“Mom… how?” I turned to my mother, searching her face for answers.

She looked distressed, her eyes darting between Hoseok and me. “I… I didn’t know how to tell you both. Y/N, you had a twin. The doctors said your twin died at birth. But apparently… your auntie...... took him,” she explained, her voice trembling.

The weight of her words settled over us like a heavy blanket. I felt as though the ground had shifted beneath my feet, and I could see the confusion and hurt reflected in Hoseok’s eyes. He had always been my best friend, my confidant, and now, the reality of our connection felt surreal.

“No way…” I whispered, my heart racing. I took a step towards Hoseok, wrapping my arms around him tightly. “Hobi, I’m so sorry… I can’t imagine how you feel.”

He stood stiffly for a moment, his body rigid with emotion, but then, slowly, he returned my embrace, the tension melting away slightly. “I always felt like there was something missing. I just never knew…” His voice broke, and I could feel the weight of his sorrow pressing down on us.

“Please forgive me, Hobi. I didn’t know,” my mom said softly, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Eommoni… it’s not your fault,” he replied, his voice filled with a mix of pain and understanding as he hugged her tightly. I could see the struggle on his face, torn between anger and love for the woman who had raised him.

After a long hour of trying to process everything—Hoseok’s feelings of betrayal and loss, my mom’s heartache, and the complicated dynamics of our newfound family—I finally excused myself to go upstairs with Jungkook. As we ascended the stairs, the air felt heavy with unresolved emotions.

“So, uh, you have a twin brother,” Jungkook muttered, glancing at me with a hint of sympathy. “No wonder you guys look so much alike.”

I nodded, trying to shake off the sadness. “I know… but I feel bad for Hoseok. Finding out that his deceased mom kidnapped him and took him away from his real mom is just… messed up.”

“Yeah, that’s really fucked up,” Jungkook agreed, running a hand through his hair, looking troubled. “I can’t believe he has to deal with that.”

Desperate to lighten the mood, I suggested, “Wanna watch a movie?” My heart ached for Hoseok, but I also longed for some normalcy, even if just for a little while.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, offering me a reassuring smile

a/n : okay soo this was short but i'll make sure to make the next chapter even longer. actually in the demo or my drafts this chapter, jungkook and oc had make up sex but i wasn't sure if i should add it cuz yeah. anyway i feel bad for hoseoks character:( alsoo the next chapter will include text msgs. there is only 3-2 more chapters left until i end this fic. thank you all very much for taking your time to read my fics!

You piss me off

Go piss off then💛💛🫶🏻🫶🏻

I think i have an exhibition kink😨

expect the unexpected - myg - os

pairings : idol! myg x bartender! reader

sypnosis: meeting an idol at a bar as a bartender? Especially the fact that it was your favourite idol, was definitely was not in your expectations, knowing well the media is all around you both.

word count: 5k+

contents/warnings: smut, ykyk, idol x fan, s2l, fast burn or whatever u call it, unprotected sxx, public media hate?, full of suprises, pwp, oral(fem recieving), slight tit play,

Not proofread

The pounding bass of the club reverberated through my chest as I worked my way behind the bar, pouring drinks with precision and a smile, despite how tired I was feeling. The club was packed tonight, bodies swaying under neon lights, laughter and chatter mixing with the pulsing music. It was another typical Friday night, one where I’d usually lose myself in the rhythm of the job, letting the hustle and bustle distract me from anything going on in my personal life.

But tonight, something felt different. There was an odd tension in the air, or maybe it was just my own nerves after hearing earlier in the day that there was going to be a high-profile guest at the club. I didn’t know who it would be, but the manager had warned us to be on our best behavior. I usually was, but the anticipation had been gnawing at me all evening, especially as the hours ticked closer to closing time.

I wiped down the counter for the hundredth time that night, glancing at the crowd every now and then, hoping to spot the mystery guest. Maybe it would be someone cool, like an actor or a famous DJ. Little did I know, my whole world was about to shift in the next few minutes.

The door opened, and I noticed someone walk in, but it wasn’t just anyone. It was him.

Min Yoongi.

My heart skipped a beat, then pounded furiously in my chest. Oh my god, it’s really him. Min Yoongi, the man I’d admired for years, the genius behind so many of my favorite songs. His music had been my escape, my motivation, my comfort on so many days. And now, here he was, stepping into the very club where I worked. My hands were shaking just thinking about it.

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry, as I watched him casually approach the bar. His presence commanded the space, even though he moved with such a laid-back aura, his black leather jacket clinging to him effortlessly. He glanced around briefly before his eyes landed on me, and I froze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Stay calm, Y/N. You’re a professional. You can’t freak out right now.

"Good evening, sir. What can I get you?" I somehow managed to ask, though my voice came out shaky. My palms were sweating, and I was sure my face was flushed.

Yoongi’s gaze softened as a small smirk played at the corners of his lips. "Does the drink come with the bartender making it?" he joked, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

I chuckled nervously, trying to play it off like I wasn’t completely losing it on the inside. "You’re very funny, sir," I replied, forcing a smile. Act normal, Y/N, act normal.

His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than I expected, and I could feel my heart racing again. "What can you recommend?" he asked, leaning slightly on the counter, his eyes still locked on mine.

I was momentarily speechless, my brain scrambling to function. What was a good drink?

I bit my lip, trying to focus despite the intensity of his gaze. "Aperol Spritz," I blurted out, my voice still shaky. It was a safe choice, something light but classy. I was hoping he’d go for it.

"That sounds good," he said, giving me a warm, gummy smile that nearly melted me on the spot. His smile—it was even more beautiful in person than I’d ever imagined.

I quickly turned to grab the ingredients, my hands trembling slightly as I started mixing the drink. I could feel his eyes on me, and it was driving me insane. The way he leaned against the bar, so casual, so effortlessly cool—it was like a scene out of a movie, one I never thought I’d be part of.

As I focused on mixing the drink, I heard him speak again, his voice low and curious. "What time’s your shift end?"

My hand faltered for a moment, nearly spilling the Aperol. "Uh, 10 p.m.," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though my heart was thudding in my chest. Why was he asking about my shift?

"Why?" I asked before I could stop myself, focusing on the drink to avoid looking directly at him.

"May I take you out?" His words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I almost dropped the glass.

I choked on my own breath, coughing slightly in surprise. Did I just hear that right? My idol, the man whose music had shaped so much of my life, was asking to take me out? It felt surreal, like a dream I didn’t dare believe was happening.

"Sir—" I started to protest, my mind racing with confusion, excitement, and nerves all at once.

He cut me off, that same playful smirk still on his lips. "Just get my number then."

Before I could even react, he reached over and gently grabbed my wrist, pulling out a pen from his jacket. My breath hitched as I felt the warmth of his fingers on my skin. With a few quick strokes, he scribbled his number on my wrist.

"Call me. Please," he said, his voice softer now, more sincere. His eyes met mine again, and for a moment, everything else in the club disappeared. It was just me and him, locked in this surreal moment that I knew I would remember for the rest of my life.

I blinked, still trying to process everything as I finished making his drink and handed it to him. He took it with that same easy confidence, his fingers brushing against mine briefly before he lifted the glass to his lips.

The way he drank the Aperol Spritz—quickly, effortlessly, like it was water—was somehow the hottest thing I had ever seen. My eyes were glued to him, watching as he downed the drink with a casual grace that left me even more flustered than before.

When he set the glass down, he gave me one last smile before standing up from the bar. I watched, completely starstruck, as he slowly made his way out of the club, disappearing into the night like some kind of ethereal being.

For a few seconds, I just stood there, still clutching the bar counter, my mind reeling from what had just happened. My idol—Min Yoongi—had not only spoken to me, but he had given me his number.

Holy cow.

It felt too good to be true. I glanced down at my wrist, at the messy numbers scrawled there, and my heart skipped another beat. This wasn’t a dream. This was real.

I was still buzzing with excitement and disbelief as I continued working, but my mind kept drifting back to Yoongi, to the way he had looked at me, the sound of his voice, the feel of his hand on mine. The rest of my shift flew by in a blur, and when 10 p.m. finally rolled around, I couldn’t get out of the club fast enough.

As soon as I was out the door, I pulled out my phone, staring at the numbers on my wrist. My fingers hovered over the keypad, nerves bubbling up inside of me. Should I really call him? What if this was all a joke, or worse, what if he didn’t even remember me?

But then I thought about the way he had smiled at me, the way his eyes had lingered just a little too long. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a dream.

Taking a deep breath, I finally dialed the number. The phone rang once, twice, three times, before a familiar voice answered.

"Hello?"

My heart leaped into my throat, and for a second, I couldn’t find my voice. "Uh, hi... it’s Y/N. From the club."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then I heard his soft chuckle. "Ah, the bartender. I’m glad you called."

I bit my lip, trying to hide my giddiness. "Yeah, well, you kind of gave me no choice," I teased lightly.

"Fair enough," he replied, amusement in his voice. "So, what do you say? Still up for going out?"

I glanced around, my nerves suddenly replaced with excitement. "Yeah, I think I am."

The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains as I sat at my vanity, carefully applying the finishing touches to my makeup. I was feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness; today wasn’t just any day—it was my first real date with Min Yoongi after i literally spent the whole night talking to him. The Yoongi. My heart raced at the thought of spending time with him outside of the club, just the two of us, with no distractions.

I had barely finished putting on my lipstick when my phone rang, causing me to jump slightly. I grabbed it quickly, seeing his name flash on the screen.

"Hey," his deep voice flowed through the line, smooth and warm. "I'll pick you up. Send me your address, pretty."

I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. Pretty. He called me that so casually, yet it made my heart skip a beat every time. I tried to sound nonchalant, but my voice betrayed me with a soft chuckle. "Oh, okay," I replied, fumbling as I typed out my address and sent it to him.

He responded with a simple "Got it. See you soon," and I hung up, staring at my reflection for a moment longer. Okay, Y/N. You’ve got this. Just be yourself.

I opted for something casual but cute—an airy summer dress that I felt confident in, paired with my favorite sandals. I didn’t want to overdo it, but at the same time, I wanted to look good. After all, this wasn’t just any date. This was a date with Yoongi.

As I finished getting ready, I heard a knock on the door. My heart leaped, and I quickly checked my reflection one last time before rushing over to open it. The moment I pulled the door open, there he was.

Yoongi stood there, dressed in a simple yet effortlessly stylish outfit—a white button-down shirt, slightly rolled up at the sleeves, paired with black slacks. His black hair fell softly over his forehead, and his eyes twinkled with amusement as he took in my appearance.

For a brief moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at me like I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. My face flushed under his gaze, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.

"You look..." He paused, his lips curving into a small smile as he ran a hand through his hair. "So damn pretty."

His words made my heart flutter, and I laughed nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Thanks," I murmured, trying to play it cool, though inside I was melting.

He extended his hand toward me. "Shall we?"

I took his hand, his fingers warm against mine as he led me out of my apartment. As we walked to his car, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him, still in awe of the fact that this was really happening. Yoongi—the man whose music I had adored for years—was holding my hand, and we were about to go on a date. It felt like a dream, one that I never wanted to wake up from.

Once we reached his car, Yoongi opened the passenger door for me, his actions gentlemanly and smooth. I slid in, my nerves settling slightly as I buckled my seatbelt and watched him move to the driver’s side. He got in and started the car, and soon enough, we were on our way.

"So, where are we going?" I asked, curious.

He glanced at me briefly, his smile returning. "It’s a surprise," he said cryptically, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he spoke.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise, huh?"

"You’ll like it, I promise," he added, giving me a reassuring look. I trusted him, though I couldn’t deny that the mystery only added to the excitement bubbling in my chest.

As we drove, the conversation flowed easily between us. Yoongi was surprisingly easy to talk to, despite his usually quiet and reserved demeanor. He asked me about my work, my hobbies, and what I liked to do for fun, and I found myself opening up to him in a way that felt natural and comfortable.

In return, he shared little snippets of his life, telling me funny stories about his friends and how much he loved producing music. He talked about his love for quiet places, the serenity of sitting by a river with a notebook, just writing. It was moments like these that made me realize just how thoughtful and introspective he was—a side of him that wasn’t always visible in public.

After about thirty minutes of driving, we pulled up to a secluded park just on the outskirts of the city. It was beautiful—quiet, with large trees providing shade and a lake glistening in the sunlight.

"Wow," I breathed as I stepped out of the car. The peacefulness of the place immediately put me at ease, and I couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness behind Yoongi’s choice.

He came around the car, taking my hand once again as we walked toward the lake. "I figured we could have a picnic," he said, nodding toward a small basket he had in the backseat.

My heart swelled at the idea. "A picnic? Aren't you scared we might caught by the media?" I grinned, looking up at him.

His ears turned a slight shade of pink, and he shrugged. "i don't really care about what the media says. i'm a human aswell"

I squeezed his hand gently, touched by the gesture. "well then, i love it"

We found a perfect spot under a large tree, the shade providing a cool relief from the warm sun. Yoongi laid out a blanket, and soon we were sitting together, the gentle breeze carrying the soft sounds of nature around us.

He opened the picnic basket, revealing an array of snacks—fruit, sandwiches, even a small bottle of wine. It was simple but thoughtful, and I couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be here with him.

As we ate, we continued talking, sharing more stories and laughing over silly things. At one point, Yoongi picked up a strawberry and held it out to me. "Here," he said, his eyes glinting with a mischievous sparkle.

I giggled, leaning forward to take a bite, but at the last second, he pulled the strawberry away, smirking. "Too slow."

I playfully glared at him, crossing my arms. "Not fair," I pouted.

He chuckled, and after a moment, he held the strawberry out again, this time letting me take a bite. The sweet taste of the fruit was nothing compared to the warmth that spread through me from his teasing smile.

Time seemed to pass effortlessly as we lounged together, enjoying the serenity of the park. At one point, Yoongi leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes as he soaked in the peaceful atmosphere. I took the opportunity to study him, admiring the way the sunlight filtered through the branches above, casting a soft glow on his face.

He looked so at peace, so content. And it made me feel the same.

After a while, he opened his eyes, catching me staring. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

"You’re beautiful, you know that?" he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I felt my cheeks flush, my heart doing a little flip at his words. "You’re not so bad yourself," I replied, trying to hide my embarrassment with a playful smile.

He chuckled softly, but the way his eyes lingered on mine told me that he meant what he said.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the park, Yoongi stood up, offering me his hand. "Come on," he said, his voice soft but insistent.

I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. We walked along the edge of the lake, the water reflecting the fading sunlight in a way that made everything feel almost magical. The world around us seemed to quiet down, the only sounds being the gentle lapping of the water against the shore and the occasional chirp of a bird in the distance.

At one point, Yoongi stopped walking, turning to face me. His expression had softened, a look of quiet contemplation on his face.

"I’m really glad you agreed to come out with me today," he said, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I looked up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. "I’m glad you asked me," I replied, my voice just as soft.

For a moment, we just stood there, the world around us fading into the background. It was just me and him, standing by the water, sharing a moment that felt almost too perfect to be real.

And then, without saying a word, Yoongi gently pulled me closer, his hand cupping my cheek as he leaned in. My heart raced, my breath hitching as his lips brushed against mine in the softest, sweetest kiss.

It was slow, tender, and filled with a warmth that spread through my entire body, leaving me breathless.

When we finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing softly in the quiet evening air.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but I could hear the emotion behind it.

I smiled, my heart swelling with a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. "For what?"

"For being here. For giving me a chance," he replied, his eyes soft and sincere.

I reached up, gently brushing my fingers through his hair. "You’re worth it," I whispered back.

It had been a whirlwind of a week since Yoongi and I started going on dates regularly. We’d been keeping things low-key, not caring too much about what the media might say. It was blissful—no pressure, no complications, just us. Every date felt like a slice of heaven, whether we were sneaking out for late-night drives or staying in to watch movies on the couch. Yoongi had a way of making everything feel easy, and for a while, I let myself believe that this little bubble we created could last forever.

But nothing ever stays hidden for long, especially when you're dating one of the most famous people in the world.

I was lying on my bed, doing my skincare routine with a sheet mask on, absentmindedly scrolling through my phone. I wasn’t expecting to find anything upsetting. In fact, I was enjoying the downtime, a rare moment to myself. That was until I stumbled upon an article that instantly made my heart sink.

"Min Yoongi of BTS, spotted at a bar months ago, writing his number on a bartender's wrist."

I froze. My fingers hovered over the screen as I read the article in shock. The photo attached was blurry, but it was definitely me. I recognized the scene instantly—the night Yoongi had come to the club where I worked and had asked for my number. I remember being so shocked and flustered, and now the world had access to that private moment.

My heart pounded in my chest as I scrolled down, reading article after article, each one with more intrusive headlines. My stomach twisted in knots as I clicked on the comments section of one post.

"I found her IG!" "Is this the bartender?" "She’s dating Yoongi? How dare she!" "She’s not even that pretty."

Each comment was worse than the last. The hate spilled across the screen, words laced with venom from people who didn’t even know me, yet somehow felt entitled to tear me apart. My hands started shaking, and my eyes stung as I continued to read.

Suddenly, the door to my bedroom opened, and Yoongi walked in. He looked relaxed, his usual calm self, but that all changed the moment he saw me. I was still lying on the bed, mask on, my phone gripped tightly in my hand. He crossed the room in a few strides, his expression instantly softening with concern as he approached.

"Y/N, you okay?" he asked, his deep voice low and soothing.

I didn’t answer him right away. Instead, I kept scrolling, my heart sinking further with each hateful comment. I felt the bed dip as Yoongi sat down beside me. He leaned over, glancing at my phone. The moment he saw what I was looking at, his expression darkened.

“Baby, don’t listen to them,” he said softly, reaching for my hand, but I pulled it away, still glued to the screen. I felt numb, my mind racing with thoughts about how much this could affect Yoongi’s life. The last thing I wanted was for my presence in his life to cause problems for him. I’d seen what rabid fans could do, how cruel the internet could be.

"She’s using him for clout." "Yoongi deserves better than her." "She’s just a nobody. How did she get his attention?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to look anymore. My body trembled, and I let out a shaky breath.

"Y/N," Yoongi's voice was firmer now, but still gentle. He reached out again, taking the phone from my hands this time. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. He set it aside, his body shifting as he leaned over me, his arms wrapping around me tightly, pulling me into his embrace. His warmth was familiar and comforting, but I was too upset to melt into him like I usually would.

"Yoongi, I…" I struggled to find the words. "I don’t want to ruin your reputation."

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, his arms still holding me close. “Baby, listen to me. This doesn’t change anything. I don’t care about what those people say.”

I opened my eyes, tears welling up as I looked up at him. "But what if they don’t stop, Yoongi? They’re already finding my social media, my pictures… It’s only going to get worse."

Yoongi gently brushed the hair away from my face, his eyes locking with mine. “I don’t care about them, Y/N. I care about you. They don’t know us, they don’t know you. And honestly, if they can’t accept that I’m dating someone, that’s on them. Not you.”

He leaned down, smashing his lips against mine, the kiss filled with urgency and a need to comfort me. My body responded instantly, my heart aching as I kissed him back, my hands gripping onto his shirt. His lips were soft, but the kiss was passionate, filled with emotion. He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against mine.

"Y/N, I love you. I love you, not what the media says, not what the fans think. You’re the one I want, the one I’ve chosen," he muttered between small kisses, his lips grazing mine as he spoke.

I let out a shaky breath, my heart racing, but I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “Yoongi… I love you too. But I’m scared. I don’t want this to ruin everything you’ve worked for. I don’t want to be the reason you lose your fans.”

His eyes softened, and he brushed away the tears that had escaped down my cheeks. "You’re not ruining anything, okay? If people can’t handle the fact that I’m happy with you, then that’s their problem, not yours." He kissed me again, slower this time, his hands cupping my face gently. "Please don’t leave because of this. I need you."

His words sent a wave of warmth through me, but the doubt still lingered. I pulled away slightly, biting my lip. “But what if it gets worse? What if the media digs into my past, or my family? What if it becomes too much for you?”

Yoongi let out a small sigh, his fingers trailing softly along my jawline. “I’ve been dealing with the media for years, Y/N. They always find something to talk about, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll protect you from all of that, I promise.” He paused, searching my eyes for a moment before continuing. “we need a fandom cleanse anyway.”

I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the sincerity in his gaze. This wasn’t just about protecting his reputation—he truly cared about me, about us. And in that moment, I realized that no matter how much hate or negativity came our way, Yoongi and I had something real, something that wasn’t going to be torn apart by strangers on the internet.

“I trust you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I really do.”

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since I saw that article, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Yoongi wasn’t just saying empty words—he meant it. And I knew that no matter how tough things got, we’d find a way to navigate through it together.

We lay there for a while, tangled up in each other, the world outside fading away as I found comfort in his arms. He held me close, his steady heartbeat calming the storm inside me. Eventually, the anxiety that had been gnawing at me began to fade, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Yoongi kissed my forehead, his voice soft as he spoke. “Let’s just focus on us, okay? Don’t let those people get into your head. I love you, and that’s all that matters.”

I nodded, snuggling closer to him. “I love you too, Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s lips trailed down my neck, leaving a trail of warm, electrifying kisses as he pressed closer, his body hovering over mine. I could feel his breath against my skin, each kiss making me shiver with anticipation. His hands roamed over my body, soft but firm, as if he was memorizing every curve. I let out a soft whimper, my head tilting back to give him more access, and he took the invitation eagerly, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below my ear.

"Yoongi…" I whined, my voice barely a whisper, breathless from the way his mouth moved against my skin. His name slipped past my lips, a plea hidden in the sound, and I felt him smirk against my neck.

“Hm?” he hummed, his voice vibrating against me, sending a jolt through my body. He moved to my ear, nibbling lightly on the lobe before pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. “What do you need, baby?” His voice was low, teasing, but I could see the dark hunger in his gaze.

I bit my lip, feeling the heat build up inside me, my heart pounding in my chest. "Need you…" I moaned lowly, my body arching beneath his as I tugged on his shirt, wanting nothing more than to feel him closer.

He groaned softly, his lips grazing mine before he kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue slipping past my lips in a slow, deliberate dance. The intensity made my head spin, and I could feel my body reacting to him, craving him.

Reaching for my phone, I unlocked it with shaky fingers and quickly scrolled through my playlist until I found the perfect song to match the mood—“Pretty When You Cry” by Lana Del Rey. As soon as the haunting melody filled the room, I dropped the phone to the side, letting the music set the atmosphere.

Yoongi’s eyes flicked to the phone, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips as the song played. “Good choice,” he whispered, his voice a mix of admiration and desire. He kissed me again, this time rougher, more intense, like he couldn’t hold back anymore.

The music filled the room, the sensual beats of Lana’s voice blending with the sounds of our breathless kisses and the soft moans escaping my lips. 

"i love you so much y/n. from the moment i saw you i already loved you" he says in between the kisses. "may i?" he asks me and without hesitation i nod. nothing will be ever hotter than a man asking for consent. making sure i'm comfortable and alright with what he's doing.

 he slowly goes down to my lower part. sliding down my shorts, revealing my damped panty with a wet patch on it "so wet. all for me? hm?" he coos, rubbing circles on my clothed clit, my back arching just from his touch. "already? i'm not even doing anythig yet baby" he says chuckling. his teeth then bites on the hem of my panty, sliding it down to get full access of my cunt. "are you ready? we can stop if you want" he assures me "fuck no..keep going yoongs" i reply to him, shaky voice. 

his tounge then starts to circle my clit, making my eyes roll back. him, smiling at the lewd noises i make, enjoying this. my hands makes it's way to his hair, tugging it. his tounge then starts to do it's magic. "fuck yoongs! they were right! your tounge technology is insane" i whimper, broken words, unable to speak fully with all the pleasure he's been giving me. "i-im coming!" i mewl, tightening my grip on his hair "yes baby, cum on my face yeah?" he says in between. i then couldn't take it anymore.

i felt my orgasm nearing, releasing white liquids on his face. he then faces to me, fuck he is so hot. especially with my liquids on his face. i then take off my shirt revealing my naked breast, i then cup his face, smashing my lips onto him, mixed with lust and love. "yoongs need you..fuck me please" i whimpered onto him, making him give me a smirk. he then starts to unbuckle his belt, sliding down his pants, revealing his erected cock, leaking with pre cum. "i'm clean, on birth control" i said "great" he replies, diving back onto the kiss. 

his hands makes it's way to my breast, playing with my nipples as i feel his tip enter me "fuck, you're so tight" he grunts in between the kiss "you're mine, alright?" he says, deep voice, making me absolutely crazy. "fuck...yes i am" i reply, whimpering. "good girl" he chuckles, as our body releases wet noises and the bed creaking rhythmically in every thrust he makes. "yoongs..i'm close" i breathly said, not even a whisper nor a whimper anymore. "come with me baby yeah? cum for me" he says, biting his lips, looking at me. 

"open your eyes. i want you to see who's making you cum" i then try my best in keeping my eyes open. i then felt my orgasm nearing, releasing my liquids once again. "baby wait for me, i'm almost there" he howls, "fuck, want me to cum inside you? hm? you'd like that don't you??" he says, while leaving a chuckle. "min yoongi!" i scream as i felt his release inside me, filling me to the brim, our liquids mixing with each other. 

assurance sex is fucking great.

he then falls on top of me giving me a peck on my cheek "i love you, will you be my girlfriend?" he says revealing his gummy smile "yes i will" i give him a smile back, happily knowing i have him as mine, and me as his.

My fav 3 am reads

Fics that i have reread for how many times now

(Writing this on mobile so it’s dlightly boring)

———

Needy - jk ff by @jkslipppiercing

Love to hate - series by @kpopfanfictrash

Babydaddy!jk - series by @muniimyg

Accidental roomates - jk one shot by @jjkeverlast (diactivated)

No textbooks here - jk ff by @ririkookiemonster

The kids aren’t alright - jk oneshot by @sketchguk

It was always you - jk ff by @hueseok

Teachers pet - jk ff by @axigailxo

Strictly platonic - jk ff by @jeonqkooks

I loveee these fics so much so i figured i share it with you guys too