BTS Imagines [REWRITING]

Yoongi ♡ Argument

Published: September 7, 2018
Rewritten: August 9, 2023

Word count: 1,236

DO NOT read or interact if you're under 14

Your fingers fiddled anxiously with a loose string on a decorative pillow from the couch. You mindlessly tugged on it, twirling it around your index finger before letting it loose only to repeat your actions.
Yoongi said he would be home at 11:00 PM. It was currently 12:30 AM.
You weren't too concerned at first, but the longer you sat there alone on the couch, the more worried you became. He had gone out with the guys to spend the evening with them. As far as you were aware, they had plans to go out to eat and maybe have some drinks. Yoongi was usually very responsible and was good at handling his liquor. He always comes home on time and doesn't drink too much, however, you were starting to think tonight would be different.

It was now 2:00 AM. You should've been fighting to stay awake at that point, but you were far too upset about his negligence to inform you on his whereabouts, your anger slowly rising with each passing second.
Where is he?
As if on cue, the door opened.

Yoongi stumbled inside and into the living room. At his much delayed arrival, you shot up from the couch and walked up to him.
"Heeeeey babe." He grinned drunkenly.
If that wasn't enough to tell you he was intoxicated, the smell sure was.
"Yoongi, you're three hours late. You said you'd be home at 11."
"Sorry sweetheart." He apologized halfheartedly, patting your head.
"You're not sorry. You're drunk out of your mind. You have no clue what you're saying."
"Why are you getting so mad?" He slurred.
"Because you said you'd be home three hours ago, not to mention you're totally wasted."
"You're mad that I'm drunk?" He laughed.
"No. I'm mad that you're late, the fact that you're drunk only adds to that anger."
"You need to chilllll." He pinched your cheek.
"Forget it. I'm going to bed." You huffed.
"Hey, get back here." He called.
You ignored him, not in the mood for his drunken antics. There was no way you were going to try and have a serious conversation with him in this state.
"Okay now you're making me angry." He said, his voice taking on a serious tone.
You didn't make it very far before his hand encircled your wrist and pulled you back.
"What's your deal?" He slurred his words a little.
"I just don't like it when you stay out late without letting me know what's going on. I was worried."
"I'm not a child, Y/n." He snapped.
"I know that, but if you're planning to stay out later than planned I would at least like to know. If I don't, then I'll worry something happened to you."
"I'm a grown man, Y/n! I can take care of myself!"
"That may be true, but I'd still like it if you had the decency to call or at least text. I'm not asking for much."
"Yes you are." He let out a groan of frustration. "I can't even go out with the guys without you wanting to know my every move."
There was a few moments of complete silence before you spoke up, your voice small.
"I was only worried."
"So what? Because you're worried I'm not allowed to have any fun?"
"You are-"
"I don't need you to baby me." He slurred.
"I'm not babying you, Yoongi."
"Seems like it." He scoffed.
You pressed your lips together in a weak attempt to hold back the tears that slowly welled in your eyes. Arguing was something you despised and this was the first one you'd ever had with Yoongi. Needless to say, you weren't handling it well.
"I think I need to go."
"That's fine with me." He mocked.

You walked out and slammed the door behind you in an attempt to blow off some steam. A storm of mixed emotions swirled in your chest: anger, confusion, disappointment, sadness.
This was the only time Yoongi had done something like this. Granted, he said he would be home at a specific time and you took his word for it. If he was a half our late that would've been fine. Heck, if he was an hour late that would've been fine too, but he was three—three hours late.
You stopped just outside the front door and heard a muffled hiccup on the other side. A loud thud came from inside followed by a string of curse words. You shook your head and walked away from the apartment, deciding to meander the halls of the complex until you felt better.

Even when you heard the sound of the door opening, you kept moving forward, not bothering to look back.

"Baby." Yoongi's voice came from behind. "I'm sorryyy. *hic* Please come back."
You spun around on your heel.
"Why? So you can yell at me some more?"
He dropped his head with a sigh. "No. I want to hug you."
"I'm going."
"Wait. Please."
He sounded desperate and you couldn't ignore that. Gathering yourself, you changed directions and headed back to Yoongi.
He stared at you with drunken, half-lidded eyes and a downturned mouth, his bottom lip stuck out slightly.
"I'm sorry for yelling you." He murmured. "Will you come back inside?"
"I suppose. As long as you agree not to get mad again."
"I promise."

Once inside, Yoongi closed the door and wrapped his arms around you from behind. As much as you hated it in that moment, you relaxed in his embrace, your body reacting instantly to his hug. Your mind was still upset with him but your body craved him. It was quite the predicament.
Yoongi's face rested comfortably in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning your skin as loose strands of his hair caressed your collarbones. His hands, which were previously planted on your waist, slid up and down your sides while his lips left soft kisses on the sensitive junction between your neck and shoulder. You sighed and closed your eyes, giving in and giving up. You couldn't possibly stay mad at him, nor could you resist his charming ways.

"I'm sorry, my sweet." He mumbled into your skin, punctuating his apology with a long press of his lips to your neck.
"I forgive you."
"Next time I go out I'll call you if I plan on staying out later than planned." He trailed open-mouthed kisses up your neck, leaving a line of tingles in his wake.
"Thank you, but I overreacted. You don't have to call me-"
"No." He cut in. "It's like you said, you're not asking for much. So, I'll let you know if things change next time. I don't want to worry you."
"You're too good to me."
He hummed against your skin. "Let me make it up to you."
"You're drunk." You chuckled.
"I'm not so drunk that I don't know what I'm talking about." He responded, spinning you around to face him.
"I love you." He professed, slamming his lips against yours.
He kissed you sloppily, still under the influence of all the alcohol he consumed earlier. His hand was brought to the back of your neck to pull you further into the kiss, his mouth encasing your lips a few times before he parted ways just long enough to say,
"I'll make it up to you. I promise."

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