Chapter Text
“Fuck” Yoongi grunts, pulling out from you, and catching his breath. “Stay the night?” he collapses beside you. The warm yellow of the streetlamp casts shadows on his milky skin, glistening with sweat, turning his skin ethereal, glowing. His lips are curved into his signature smirk, the one that had seduced you into climbing on his bed the first time, second time, third time, fourth time, nth time.
Your eyes are closed as you lay on your stomach, your cheek pressed on your arm, exhausted - sore and worn out. Yoongi lays on his side, rests his head on the palm of his hand, and draws circles on your back with featherlight fingers. Electricity runs down your spine, down your toes.
“What do say hmm?” such a delicious offer.
If he had asked you three months ago, you would have answered yes in a heartbeat, but since he made it clear that he didn't want anything more than to be fuck buddies, you took it upon yourself to build a wall, compartmentalize this into what it is and nothing more.
“Sudden change of heart?” you turn your head to face him, raising an eyebrow, and mirroring the smirk on his face.
“I was thinking of continuing this in the morning.” he smacks your backside, a crisp sound of skin hitting skin echoes in his room - a huge contrast to his gentle touch just a second ago.
“Fat chance, buddy.” you prop yourself up on your elbows, sitting up, and gathering the thin sheet around your body. “I sleep better in my own bed.” you motion to stand up, but Yoongi fists the sheet and pulls you back.
“Where do you think you're going?” he drawls with his Daegu accent.
“Home.” you unwrap yourself and gather your clothes strewn on the floor. “I got what I came here for.”
Yoongi's dark gaze follows your every movement as you slip into your over-sized sweatshirt and jeans. He licks his bottom lip and bites down.
From the moment Yoongi laid eyes on you, he found it hard to look away. Not just because he thought you’re intelligent with how you work and help solve criminal cases. Not just because he found the sway of your hips irresistible when you saunter into the forensics lab but because you’re an unconventional beauty with a personality that screams sunshine, but with plenty of bite. And if there’s anything Yoongi loves, it’s a nonconformist and a challenge.
“See you at work?” you say, dangling the car keys on your finger, waking him from a trance.
“I'll walk you out.” Yoongi pulls over a black sweatshirt and wears a pair of grey sweatpants.
Yoongi accompanies you to the parking lot outside of his building. The air is cold, a sign of winter's arrival.
“Don't fall asleep while driving.” Yoongi says more like a threat than a word of advice.
“That’s not a bad idea.” you grin.
He rolls his eyes.
“I'm serious.” he opens the door for you.
“Yes, yes. You always are.” you say getting on the driver's seat of your black sedan. Just when you're about to pull the door close, Yoongi holds it open, bends at the waist, and plants a kiss on your cheek. You feel your whole body warm up, feel a little pounding in your chest that you thought you had buried months ago.
“No matter what you do, I'm not sleeping over.” you start the car and wear your seat belt.
“Can't say I didn't try.” he shrugs and closes the door. He catches a glimpse of you rolling your eyes.
He taps on the roof of your car, signalling you to go. He watches the taillights and waits until you're out of sight.
When you arrive at the forensic laboratory the following day, Yoongi is leaning back on his chair, holding up a photo of a crime scene, and muttering to himself like he always does. His desk is right in front of yours, an organized chaos: pieces of sticky notes scattered all over the table, computer, and even on the equipment. He’s the type of person who lets his thoughts run wild, writes his ideas in a frantic attempt to document everything.
“What an idiot.” he mutters to himself, taking notes.
“Who are you calling an idiot?” you set your bag down on the chair before walking over to Yoongi’s desk. You sit on the edge of his table, sipping on your iced coffee.
“Who in their right mind would step on blood after stabbing their victim?” he continues to write and slaps the sticky note somewhere on his table. “It's like he wanted to get caught.”
He sighs and leans back again as if taking notes require a great deal of oxygen and energy. For a moment, you think he’s forgotten that you’re there, but when his dark gaze falls on you, eyes travelling your body, you know he’s very much aware of your presence. He smirks and you feel a knot in your stomach.
“Alright, pervert. Don’t start with me.” you point a finger at him, trying to de-escalate the situation.
Yoongi looks up at you, narrows his eyes, and tilts his head to the side, resting his hand on your knee. Good news is that you’re wearing black tights. Bad news is that it's not thick enough to numb the feeling of Yoongi’s fingers trailing blazes on your skin.
“Start? This is a continuation from last night.” His fingers inch closer to your inner thighs. “This would’ve been over with if you had stayed.”
You swat his hand away, stopping his efforts to reach where you’re weakest and walk back to your desk before temptation gets the better of you.
“Evil incarnate.” you scoff, opening an orange envelope containing a case you need to analyze and write a report on by 2 pm.
“Minx.” he retorts, facing his computer with a satisfied smirk on his face.
From the moment you first laid eyes on Yoongi, you knew work wasn't going to be monotonous. It's not because Yoongi is undeniably handsome with his sharp eyes and pale skin, not just because of his quiet confidence that has everyone (male and female) in the entire department swooning over him, but because -- simply because -- Yoongi owns rows of CDs in the bottom drawer of his pedestal arranged alphabetically. If there's anything you love, it's music and alphabetically arranged things.
In fact, this mutual love for music is what started whatever it is you and Yoongi have. It was your first month in Seoul after having moved from another city and you had decided to spend one Friday night at the kind of bar that holds trivia events. You could tell the people there take the trivia nights seriously because there were about three groups of four that were wearing matching t-shirts with their team name on it. Meanwhile, you were seated at the bar, eating chicken wings, in a burgundy high neck top and black jeans, jean jacket hung on the backrest of your seat.
You never meant to participate in the game, never meant to catch the attention of the person seated two seats away from you with piercing eyes and dark brown hair with a red undertone in them, a stark contrast against his pale skin. But when the host asked what Elton John album became the first album to enter the charts at #1 in 1975 and 30 seconds had passed without an answer from anyone, you were forced to respond.
“Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy”
“Correct!” The host shouted out before she cupped the mic with her hand and whispered “But you need to have a team, miss.”
“Oh.” You smiled apologetically.
“I didn’t know you like these kinds of things.”
You turned your head to face the owner of the deep voice. You barely recognized your co-worker, Min Yoongi, dressed in plain black shirt, black ripped jeans, and a black leather jacket when he transferred from his seat to the one beside yours. You knew he was good-looking, but you didn’t know it was possible for him to be more good-looking outside of his work clothes.
“I guess I do?” you shrugged. “Are you here for trivia night?”
“Hell no.” He scowled. “I’m waiting for the band.”
“Why don’t you play while waiting?” you asked, gnawing on your chicken wing. “Not smart enough?” you grinned slowly, initiating a good-natured banter. It's hard to say where you got the gall to kid around with someone who looks like he could eat you alive, but the words were out of your mouth before you even knew it.
Yoongi smirked with a cocksure set of lips, eyebrow arched.
“1988.” he spoke up and then he looked at you, a confident smirk overtaking his lips.
You grinned, glad that he took the challenge and relieved that he wasn't the snob that you thought he was.
“That is correct! Eazy E released ‘Eazy Does It’ in 1988.” the host approached Yoongi, covering the mic. “Sir, you need to be in a team to earn points.”
Yoongi shrugged, taking a sip from his glass of whiskey.
“What do you think about teaming up?” you arched an eyebrow.
He set his finished glass down.
“I don’t know. You don’t seem very smart.” his lips tugged into a smirk.
“Jerk.” you rolled your eyes and smiled.
Yoongi huffed out a small laugh.
And so began the tradition of Friday trivia night with Yoongi. But being the recluse that he is, Yoongi only agreed to go every 2nd Friday of the month which poses no problem for you. No, you didn’t wear matching shirts. And no, you weren’t nearly as competitive as everyone else around. It was only a game to the both of you and more of a way to get acquainted with each other.
A little too acquainted perhaps.
It happened at one of your nights of playing music trivia. Your team of two had won against four other groups, and the cash prize you won had been spent on copious amounts of drinks. It’s easy with the two of you: you hadn’t realized you had so much in common -- both of you enjoy a wide variety of music, both of you play instruments: you guitar, him the piano, both of you prefer quiet places. Conversation between the two of you flowed freely, lapsing from one topic to another, until you touched on a subject leading to a conversation that didn’t require much of talking.
“Yes, I know. But let’s just say-” you waved a finger at Yoongi’s face, talking lazily. Your cheeks were rosy from drinking. You were sitting side by side each other in a round booth where it was quiet enough to hear each other. “When you’re older, don’t you want to have kids?”
He squinted his eyes and his lips were titled down in a pout, deep in thought.
“I guess. But to be honest, I just want someone to share expenses with - rent, utilities, groceries.”
Yoongi took a swig from his fourth glass of whiskey on the rocks.
“And I just want maybe one kid.” Your face was numb and your head felt heavy, but Yoongi’s shoulder was comforting enough to soothe the pounding in your head. “I don’t really care for marriage or relationship. I just feel like, I’d be a great mom, you know?”
“No. I don’t know.” He said dryly.
You punched him playfully, as hard as your drunk self could.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
“Actually, I don’t mind having a kid or two either.”
“How about you give me a kid and I can pay half of your rent and everything?” you snorted at your own joke.
“Deal.” he looked down at you, grinned wide and gummy.
When you looked up from his shoulder, you hadn’t realized how close his face was. His lips were in your line of sight, suddenly hyper aware of his features. There was a light flush high on his cheeks from drinking too much alcohol. His lips were in a small pout and his eyes were flickering over your face, often landing on your lips. Your heart rate spiked and your stomach churned.
Yoongi reached over to tilt your chin up toward him. He paused for a tortuous moment, long enough for you to wonder if he’s going to kiss you or not. His eyes flickered over your face again and smirked before crashing his lips on yours. A small sound of surprise escaped you when he wrapped the arm you were leaning on around your waist to pull you closer. Yoongi’s tongue slipped out briefly to lick at your bottom lip before he closed his teeth over it, biting lightly and slowly.The hand on your chin trailed down, hot against your neck.
You should stop.
But your blood is on fire.
You angled your body towards him, flushed against his, resting a hand on his chest, savoring the flavor of whiskey on Yoongi’s tongue. His lips kissed a slow path from your mouth to your ear and then he whispered, “seal the deal with a kiss?” You couldn’t help but laugh gently. “You’re cheesy.” you said. He grinned against your neck before leaving wet and sloppy kisses and nipping at the skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you whimpered, feeling a familiar stirring in your gut.
You should stop this right now.
But how could you when the hand that was on your waist found its way to your backside, the tight squeeze on your flesh sent you into a frenzy. You lower your hands to tug at the belt loops of his pants. Yoongi groaned against your neck and tried to pull you into his lap but you resisted. He growled and pulled harder, hearing the slit of your skirt tear.
You broke away from him, startled at the sound of your skirt ripping and the sound he just made, surprised at the slick of want in your core. You stared at each other: lips swollen, breathless. His hair was disheveled, his mouth was partly opened - catching his breath, and he looked at you with such lust you swore his dark gaze could swallow you whole.
+++ E X P L I C I T +++
“I have to go to the washroom.” you slid out of the booth and stumbled to the restroom, alcohol buzzing through your veins, feeling light-headed from the kiss. You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror - lips were pink, rosy cheeks, marks on your neck. Your white button down blouse was wrinkled and there was a rip on your pencil skirt that made the slit a little bit higher than it was before you went to work.
“Damn it.” you muttered. Getting involved with a colleague? Haven't you learned your lesson? But it's impossible to deny the attraction you have for Yoongi. It's hard to resist when he’s dangerously good-looking, when his chest felt surprisingly sturdy, when his hands burned your skin and when his kisses made you delirious.
You turned around to open the door, but Yoongi immediately stepped inside, leaving very little time for you to set your foot out, closing the door behind him and locking it. The neon light glowed red on his pale skin, his eyes looking at you with hunger. Your heart raced and the pleasant ache in your lower stomach threatened to overtake your body.
“Do you think you can just leave without finishing what you started?” he said in a voice that's vibrating with dominance. He took a step forward, encroaching your personal space, causing you to step back. You felt the sink behind you, hands resting on the cold counter. You don’t know what it is about his gaze that had you shrinking under him, making it difficult to maintain eye contact.
“Look at me.” he grabbed a fistful of your hair at the back of your head and tugged it firmly - not too hard, but not gently either - so that your eyes met his. You opened your mouth to protest but you were speechless. Was this the same Yoongi you worked with? Was this the same person who told you about having dreamt of a pig that revealed the winning numbers to the lottery? Was this the same person who would make high-pitched sounds whenever he got excited about a case and close to finishing his report?
No. It can't be because the Yoongi you know wouldn't flick his tongue on his bottom lip and stare at you hungrily so blatantly. He wouldn't angle your head to the side, wouldn't nip at your earlobe and whisper, “I've always wondered what it would be like to fuck you.” Your breath hitched when his free hand gripped the small of your waist and pulled you close. By now, you knew you're slick with want, begging to be touched. You involuntarily bit your lip as you stared at his mouth. You lunged forward to kiss him, but he pulled away, letting go of your hair, cupping your cheek with his hand, thumb brushing your bottom lip, and slipping it inside your mouth.
You instinctively wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking lightly. He chuckled mischievously - a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
“That desperate?” he smirked.
Yes. Yes, you were. You didn't know what he was doing to you. You didn't know why this turned you on so much. You didn't know you could submit to someone so willingly.
But a part of you didn't want to make it too easy for Min Yoongi because you knew he’s the type of person who always got what he wanted, making it more exciting not to oblige him. You lifted your gaze from his thumb to his eyes - a flicker of playful desire in the way you stared at him. Yoongi’s dark eyes widened when he felt your teeth around his thumb and instantly he pulled away.
You grinned and squared your shoulders, taking control.
“You didn't think I'd yield just like that did you?” you purred, crossing your arm over you chest. Yoongi's eyes flickered from your fingers that were teasingly fumbling on a button. You arched an eyebrow, unfastening the first three buttons of your blouse, revealing the swell of your breasts. He licked his lips, his heart pounded, blood rushing south.
“I don't like being teased.” Yoongi growled.
“Oh?” you hoisted yourself up on the counter, crossing your legs.
You watched Yoongi move forward, the red glow on his face made him look even more vicious than he already is.
What do they say about playing with fire again?
Yoongi’s hands found your hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter, making you open your legs out of fear of falling. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hand reached over your face and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Yoongi’s face was inches away from yours, you can feel his breath ghost over your cheeks.
“Do you know what happens to brats like you?” he said, his voice husky and low, locking his eyes with yours.
“The only brat here is you.” you said, challenging him.
Yoongi’s jaws clenched, his hand swiftly finding your neck. He squeezed lightly - enough to feel your pulse on his fingers. You smirked. His patience was wearing thin, then again, he didn’t have a lot to begin with.
“You’re going to wish you didn’t say that.” his lips curved into a smirk. The thrill of taunting Yoongi and provoking him sent adrenaline throughout your body.
The hand that was on your neck gently pushed you back, making you lean on the mirror. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched Yoongi’s hand slowly reach under your skirt. He raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes when he rubbed your slit through your drenched panties. “You’re already so wet.” he said confidently. You bit your lip, suppressing a moan. No, you won’t give him the satisfaction yet. But you couldn’t control the way your body responded to him: you bucked against his touch, begging for more friction. His tongue swiped his upper lip.
“You look so fucking hot.” He growled, his grip on your throat tightening.
You wanted him to touch you, to feel his slender finger pressed against your slick core. You rolled your hips faster, but he pulled his fingers away. He wasn’t going to let you get off from this. The hand on your throat slid to the back of your neck and yanked you forward.
“Tell me what you want, baby.” Yoongi’s breath ghosted on your lips. He trailed his hands on your thighs, hiking up your skirt until it was shoved around your waist, hearing the narrow opening on the side of your skirt rip a little (again). You whimpered.
“Why are you suddenly speechless?” he taunted, his fingers slowly pulling down your panties, shifting yourself, allowing him to remove your soaked underwear and tossing it on floor. He grunted, finding purchase on your thighs before dragging his hands on the back of your knees.
Yoongi’s lips pressed on your ear, “Tell me what you fucking want.” he snarled, shoving your legs back, knees inches away from touching your shoulders, hands flat on the marble counter. You gasped at the sudden movement, at the compromising position you’re in.
“Fuck.” Yoongi licked his lips, drinking in the sight of your dripping core. His jaws clenched, lifting his merciless eyes on you, running a finger up and down your inner thigh, making your legs tremble, causing you to breathe harder.
“Y-Yoongi,” you whimpered. “Touch me.”
“I didn’t hear you.” he taunted.
“Just fucking touch me already.” you snapped.
Yoongi’s finger drew circles agonizingly slow on your clit, driving you wild. You bucked your hips for more but he clicked his tongue. “This is what you get.” He slid his finger up and down your slit, teasing your entrance.
“Yoongi.” you whined.
“Yoongi what?” he smirked.
“Yoongi please.” you begged. God. What the hell is he doing to you?
“I like the sound of you begging.” he slid his hand downward, sinking deep inside you, two fingers wide and two knuckles deep. You had already let a loud moan escape when your hands reached to cover your mouth. Your back arched as Yoongi’s fingers curled inside you, fucking you with his expert fingers. His other hand reached for your blouse, yanking the buttons open and then pulling down your bra - exposing your breasts. His fingers twisted your nipples lightly causing you to groan. A familiar twinge started in your stomach. You could feel how close you were now. Just a little bit more--
“Don’t you fucking cum yet.” Yoongi said with a low guttural sound and withdrew his fingers. He harshly grabbed you by the waist so that you’re standing on your feet and he spins you around, pressing his delicious erection on your ass. Yoongi’s hands roamed your body, your head falling on his shoulders as he kissed your neck.
“I want to fuck you so bad.” he grunted, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.
You gasped when you felt his warm and hard cock pressing against your flesh. Your pelvic floor tightened and your heart threatened to leap out from your chest.
“What are you waiting for?” you said, breathless.
You saw him lift his gaze up from your neck to your eyes through the mirror.
“You’re so impatient.” he bent you over the counter, pulling your hips up, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. He ran it along your dripping core and then paused to lean forward over you.
“Have you ever watched yourself get fucked?” he whispered huskily before he slams his cock inside of you.
You saw your eyes widen, your mouth forming an O shape - a moan stuck in your throat as you were stretched out by Yoongi’s thick cock.
“Fuck.” he mumbled, his forehead pressing on your shoulder. His thrusts were slow at first, but hard and deep, hands loitering on your breasts, hips, and thighs - waiting for you to get used to him.
“You feel so good.” you moaned, encouraging him.
Good was an understatement. Great didn’t even do it justice. It felt beyond pleasurable to have Yoongi inside you - a sensation so overwhelming your vision started to blur.
Yoongi reached for your wrists, placing your hands flat on the mirror. He leaned forward again, resting his chest on your back as he grabbed your hair, yanking it back.
“Watch me fuck you, baby.” he demanded, his teeth tugging at your ear, thrusting into you as quick and as deep as the position allowed. Your cheeks were pink, hair sticking on your face, sweat dripping down your neck. Yoongi’s nose was scrunched up, jaws clenched, and his eyes were ruthless. "You look so fucking beautiful." He grunted, slamming into you hard. You saw your mouth fall open in a soundless ‘O’. You felt like you were on fire, losing control. It won’t be long until you’re screaming your release. You could tell he was close too because his thrusts were getting sloppy.
“I-I’m close.” you mewled. His hand reached around to massage your clit, driving you to ecstasy. Yoongi felt your walls pulse and contract around him. His hand covered your mouth to muffle the sound of your moans as you reached your orgasm.
“That’s right, baby. Cum all over me.” he cooed, watching you through the mirror, still thrusting in and out of you until he tipped over the edge. Yoongi pulled out of you, spilling himself on your ass.
Both of your breaths came in pants as you pause and think about what just happened.