#agust d angst

[orchidyoonkook]

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 

Intimate. That would be a better choice. 

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty. 

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing. 

You just lost all your tips for the night. 

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 

Fuck. 

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it. 

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 

No one serves him but you. 

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath. 

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased. 

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 

No one calls the Devil by his first name. 

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 

No one except you. 

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 

The King of Hell. 

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 

And maybe he is. 

But not to you. 

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 

Yoongi. 

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 

And he looks like sin incarnate. 

Fitting. 

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you. 

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”  

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” 

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 

Beautiful. 

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait— 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 

You’ve decided. 

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 

And apparently neither does Yoongi. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 

You trust Yoongi. 

“That's a good girl.” 

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?” 

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 

You’re the most powerful person here. 

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you. 

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 

Perfect in every single way. 

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 

Not yet. 

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 

Ever.  

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 

There was only you. 

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming. 

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 

It’s yours. 

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?” 

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.” 

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 

You just know it. 

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 

You never expected anything like that. 

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 

Because of you.  

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that. 

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 

He was yours now. 

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

#yoongi #min yoongi #suga #min suga #agust d #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi #bts min suga #yoongi x oc #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x oc #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x you #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #min yoongi fic #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi au #bts fanfic #bts fic #yoongi scenarios #bts imagine #yoongi imagine #bts smut #bts x fem!reader

[sugarwithtea]

bounty (m) | myg [teaser]

bounty (noun) : a sum paid for killing or capturing a person. if there was one person who annoyed you the most, it was min yoongi. but what happens when he calls you after escaping someone hired to end him? a dance, which ends in a surprising way.

pairing ; gang leader!yoongi x thug!reader (f)

rating/genre ; m (18+)//smut, angst (minor), enemies to ???

wc ; for the teaser - 470 // for the fic - 4k+

warnings for the teaser ; guns, swearing. for the fic ; explicit smut in public, knives, mentions of death, gore, murder (main characters) and many more!

note ; tread with caution ⚠️ the teaser is mild but the fic won't be (it will be very dark!) also, happy d-day dropping everyone hehe!! thanks to @cowboylikeyoongi for helping me with smth very major!!!! please let me know if you wanna join the taglist for this!

masterlist | taglist

You stand straighter, putting your hands on your waist and chewing the end of the cigarette in your mouth. You survey the area with squinted eyes, pushing your thin jacket behind to reveal your black tee and the gun, with which your finger toys.

You had heard of this place, and how there was a big bounty on the leader of the gang who ran the place. They were dogs, fiercer than wolves, but still fucking cowards. Your boss had asked you to stay clear of the massacre, something about leaving the lowly on his own. And you obeyed, for Min Yoongi was a man who riled you up so much, that anger always lived on your nose – and the tip of your tongue.

The way you were called into the yard, you assume whoever tried to get the meaningless bounty had failed. You shake your shoulders in amusement, and take another drag from your cigarette, kicking the dust at your feet. One more minute, and if he doesn't show up you are getting the fuck out of here.

It's as if the universe heard your thought and plotted against you returning because as soon as you turn back towards the raging fire, a hand wraps itself around your neck and pulls you behind. You let out a loud snort of amusement around the cigarette as you are pulled into a hard chest, his arm around your neck and breath on top of your ear. You quickly pull your cigarette out with one of your hands and exhale, letting the smoke fog you.

As soon as you register his breath, a hard thing pokes you on the base of your throat, and you look down to see the muzzle of his gun at your throat, pressing into your skin. His arm is right above it, and you see the way his fingers wrap around the trigger guard, away from the actual trigger. You scoff at it – still a coward.

He pushes the muzzle deeper into your skin, and you feel his chest going up and down, as his hand around your neck brings you so near him, that you feel him mold against you. You arch an eyebrow and tilt your head, a laugh leaving your lips.

"Hello to you too, Yoongi.'' He hated it when you, or anyone called him Yoongi, so you did just that. He doesn't want to be related to his family, or have a semblance of their relationship with him. And there was one thing that could erase it – his name. So he changed it to Agust D.

"You came?" His voice is gruff against your ear, and you don't miss how deep it is, just like the ocean. You take a deep breath and exhale, before speaking again with a delayed snort.

"You called?"

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feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated! so please lmk your thoughts :))

© sugarwithtea. do not repost.

#yoongi #yoongi smut #suga smut #yoongi angst #suga angst #min yoongi #bts smut #bts angst #myg #agust d #btswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtantheatrenet #micdropnet #bangtanbathhouse #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi mafia

[dollfaceksj]

I keep making scenarios in my head about how yoongi will react to taes message😭 can't wait to see what actually happens

hehehehehe

can’t afford love | myg (m) #24

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your thumb almost instantaneously locks your phone again

and your eyes travel up to peek at his

but he’s not even looking at you, just walks towards the kitchen to start the dishes

you quietly sigh and rub your forehead

talk about bad timing

you follow him into the kitchen

“it’s not what you think,” is all you can get yourself to say

he shrugs his shoulders with a slight shake to his head

“yoongi,” you mumble as you close the distance between you two

he turns to look over his shoulder at you. “why are you still entertaining him?”

you blink at him in confusion. “i haven’t heard from him in days, what are you talking about?”

he redirects his focus to the dishes and just keeps doing them

you sigh quietly. “does it bother you?”

he says, “no, you can do whatever you want, obviously. you’re single, aren’t you?”

“don’t be like this,” you say under your breath, leaning against the counter next to the sink where he’s standing

“like what?” he says. now he’s trying to sound unbothered, you can hear the shift in his tone

“yoongi, stop.” you take the sponge from him and wrap your fingers around his wrist to bring his hand directly under the stream of tap water to rinse the soap before turning the lever

he turns to look at you and you pull him towards you

he lets you but you can still feel him being tense

he adds, “it’s whatever. he’s just jarring.”

you chuckle at his wording. “what has he ever done to you?”

he stares at you and tilts his head to the side

you avoid his eyes, just busying yourself with brushing his hair out of his eyes

“being the reason why i didn’t take you against a wall in that restroom during joon’s ceremony.”

now he’s being ridiculousssss

you shake your head. “that was because of my dress. has nothing to do with him.”

“no? you weren’t rushing to go chat with him again? didn’t make it clear to him that i was just your ex-husband?” he starts pulling you closer by your waist

damn.

you did actually do that😭

“uh,” you start, already feeling the urge to lie to him bubble up the back of your throat.

he shakes his head. “i get it. you were annoyed, weren’t you?”

hm?

“annoyed?”

“yeah. because of yuna.”

oh.

you’d forgotten about yuna

“oh.” you glance up into his eyes and he’s staring straight at you. “yeah. i guess so.”

he slowly nods his head. “at least you know nothing’s happening between me and yuna because she’d rather do you. like your photoboy.”

you frown at this. “what?”

a dry chuckle leaves his mouth. “what are you confused about?”

“what are you talking about?”

“you think men text women ‘hey beautiful’ without hoping to fuck her at some point?”

you blink at him a few times

like mentioned before

you were never really in the dating pool

because you got with yoongi when you were pretty young

so you’re not sure how men text when they want something

you’re better at reading them in real life

you can’t say there wasn’t flirtatious energy when you spoke with taehyung though

he’s not done though. “men only want one thing, alright?”

what???

“doesn’t that apply to you too?” you inquire, a deep frown on your brows

“all i want is for my life to go back to normal.”

…

huh?? what is he on about?

“but you need to heal first.” he finishes his rant by planting a soft kiss on your forehead before pulling his hands away from your body and returning his attention to the dishes

you just watch him this time, dumbfounded

just as you part your lips to say something, you hear your doorbell ring

you snap out of your trance and head towards the front door

as you open up, you see your mother standing there, holding jun

and jun’s holding a biscuit

“my baby,” you coo as you reach for him and he immediately jumps into your arms

you hug him tightly, kissing his chubby cheeks

your mom enters your home and closes the door behind her before starting heading into the kitchen

wait

wait

WAIT

YOONGI’S THERE

you lied to her about it in the beginning but it’s still embarrassing!!!!

“wa-wait!” you turn to look at her. “where are you going?”

she frowns and then glances down at her hand. “i got a few juiceboxes for jun. i’m just gonna put them in the fridge.”

“oh! i’ll do that.” you put jun down

“spend time with your son. i can put a few juiceboxes in the fridge. do i look like a moron?” she rolls her eyes and starts heading into the kitchen

well…. fuck.

“oh.”

you can hear the surprise in her voice

ohhhh gooodness.

you walk with jun towards the kitchen.

“okay. interesting,” is all she says as she puts the juiceboxes back

yoongi looks extremely awkward

and his cheeks + ears turning a shade of crimson isn’t helping at all

“goodmorning, ma.” he nods at her

“morning, yoongi.” she nods back and scratches the back of her head. “well, i’m gonna get going. need to work.”

without even saying bye, your mom has sprinted out your home

so typical of her

you don’t even wanna know what’s going through her mind atp

you shake your head before glancing down at the gremlin by your feet

“daddy,” he says as he runs up to him

yoongi dries his hands and picks him up. “my boy,” he coos, tickling his sides

jun just giggles and shows his father the spiderman toy that he got

yoongi pretends to be interested and you just stare at this scene in front of you

and you hear a crack

but that crack is coming from inside of your own body

you soon realize it’s your heart

because now you understand what yoongi meant when he said he wanted his life to go back to normal.

to be continued

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— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

@pamzn @jknoah @ahgasegotarmy116 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @Teddytaee @pnkmyg @yoongallery @agustdswifey @purp13st4r @busanstarkoo @busanboykoo @kookssecret @p34rluv @xumyboo @jojowantstocry @minjenna @codeinebelle @Futuristiclovedreamland @rirushu @taegicity @namgihours @ultminyoongi @swinterr @butterymin @partyparty-yah @bettybloop @secfir @coffeedepressionsoup @keroppitae @manuosorioh @whoa-jo @etaerealboyv @kaiparkerwifes @luvjiminandyoongi @luvbeomkai @petalsofink @paradiseyoongies @gaby-93 @MMFranklin @llallaaa @vickyyy97 @osakis-gf @luna-astro-star @shabbamadapot @rrrapmonste-rr @jjeonjennie @yoongisducky @s3l3n0phil3 @itsmina29 @namjoonsbuspass @hoseokshobagi @laurenrodr @keshiadeija @acquiescence804 @swga-ficrecs @sato-hana02 @honsoolhour @gaby-93 @kimseokgen @Imene1609 @joonsmagicshop @yunki-yunki-yunki

#clover’s drabble series: cal | myg #yoongi #min yoongi #bts yoongi #agust d #suga #bts suga #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #suga x y/n #suga x reader #suga x you #yoongi fic #min yoongi fic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #yoongi drabble #bts reader #bts #bts x reader #minors dni #dollfaceksj #yoongi fics #min yoongi fics

[borahaerhy]

Regime - one || myg

Summary: Everything is dull. Your job, your hobbies, your downtime: everything is just dull. That is, until your workplace is raided by the anti-capitalist organization run by the notorious Agust D.

Pairing: Ringleader!Yoongi x NewRecruit!Fem!Reader

Genre: Anti-Capitalist Gang au, Found Family, Smut, Angst

Series Warnings: anti-capitalism! mental illness, some gang violence, unaliving, smut, hella angst, drug/alcohol usage, very fowl language

Warnings: y/n uses all the self-defense, quite literally bites a chunk out of someone's hand, everyone has a gun, there are a few hostages, Yoongi kicks someone in the face, y/n very casually holds a gun to someone's head, references to y/n's childhood being... interesting (relatives' drug usage briefly mentioned), Yoongi's tries to manipulate y/n for like 2 seconds, y/n definitely has depression, someone gets murdered, Yoongi almost exclusively goes by Agust, References to Nick being hella shitty, what the fuck is going on with Kevin?

Wordcount: 3.2k

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It was odd. 

The parking lot of your job being completely empty had only happened on one other occasion that you could recall; that was because it was Easter, and everyone had gone home early. 

But today was different. It wasn’t a holiday, and there should have been plenty of work to get done; yet there was no one. Not a single car in the parking lot. As you drove past, you turned your attention to the side of the building, where security parked. You pulled into the space beside the empty car of one of your coworkers, Nick. 

But it’s ten minutes until shift change; first shift should still be here. Did Nick let them leave early for some reason? Aside from yours and Nick's, there was only one other car in the entire lot. A black SUV parked haphazardly beside Nick's car; and it was still running.

While all of this might scream “danger” to others that would have seen it, to you, while it was weird, that's all it was: weird. It’s a relatively small company; one where there were so few employees that they were all friends. Everyone knew everyone and they often all liked to fuck with one another, maybe this was just some kind of prank. 

While the company was small, it was also one that had no problem fucking over its employees when it comes to their paychecks; even whenever the company execs wanted to come in and check the place out, they certainly never would’ve listened to any complaints about pay. 

You cautiously walked up to the door and punched in the pin before you opened the door and stepped in. As you closed the door behind you, you realized that you walked into something you definitely wished you hadn’t. 

Tied up in the middle of the floor was the owner of the building, and the one who ran this branch of the company, Kevin, along with the guy supposed to work your shift with you, Nick. They were completely surrounded by men in black, all of them with guns pointed at the two men's heads. Kevin looked like he just got into a fight and lost; blood covering him, his nose crooked while Nick had a swollen lip. In front of them, there was just one man, but as soon as your eyes had adjusted to the dark building, all of them were looking at you. 

Seconds after you walked in, your arms were pinned behind your back and a hand covered your mouth. “Just make sure she doesn’t go anywhere for a second, I have to deal with this asshole before I talk to her,” 

While as a security officer, you hadn’t been formally trained in any kind of combat, you did grow up with uncles. A lot of them, and they would all get varying levels of high and various substances and decide that you needed to know how to defend yourself. 

So while the man that spoke, the one standing in front of Nick and Kevin kicks Nick in the chin - no doubt knocking out a few of his teeth - you stamped down on the foot of the man behind you and bit a chunk of flesh from his hand clean off. He screamed, letting go of you so you could turn around and knee him in the groin as one of your hands took the gun out of his side holster and held it to his head. 

You stood beside him, facing the group of people with one hand holding the gun to his head while the other was up, level with your head to show you weren't armed more than what they could see. You spit out the chunk of flesh that you still had in your mouth, mostly for dramatic effect, and slowly moved your free hand down to wipe the blood from your lips. 

Everyone was staring at you, even the boss was staring at you with a kind of intensity that would’ve been hard for anyone to withstand. “You can finish whatever you were doing, I’m not going anywhere, I just don’t really like people touching me,” Your hand was back up next to your head, but no one moved. All the men just looked back and forth between their boss and you, and Kevin and Nick both looked like they’d just been saved. 

The one that just kicked your coworker, the one you presumed to be the boss, started walking toward you. He moved slowly and carefully as he pulled each of the weapons he had on him, showed them to you carefully, before he threw them down on the ground. He pulled one last weapon from the inside of his boot, a small pocket knife, and threw it to the ground, too, as he stopped a few feet in front of you. 

“I’m unarmed, and so is he. I would appreciate it if you put the gun down,” He spoke calmly, eyebrows raised and hands up. While it was hard to think of where he’d be hiding a seventeenth weapon, you also wouldn’t put it past the man that just pulled sixteen weapons off his person to have a secret compartment in the bottom of his shoe. 

Your eyes narrowed as you looked at him, his face covered with a ski-mask like the rest of them, only his eyes visible to you; dark brown pools of honey that bore into you, but they weren’t as harsh or intimidating as you would’ve thought someone like him to be. They were soft, almost gentle as they moved back and forth between yours.

“You might not be, but they are,” You looked over at the men that surrounded your coworker and boss, his gaze following yours. 

“They’re not going to do anything, you’re not the target here; they are. Just put the gun down and we can talk,” You looked carefully at him, then at the people behind him, before you slowly raised the hand with a gun in it, before crouching down slightly and slid it across the ground, making sure it was well out of reach of anyone before you stood again. 

“Kay, come get Mars and clean him up for me, everyone else, don’t let them move a muscle,” He was facing his men as he spoke, but turned back to you once he’d finished. “You probably know this place better than I do, so I’ll let you lead the way,” You looked over to the door to one of the conference rooms briefly, before you looked back over to him, Kay already collection Mars from off the ground beside you. 

“That room there would work fine, I’ll meet you in there but I need to get my water out of my bag,” He looked you up and down skeptically, about to say something before you cut him off again. “It’s just to rinse your friends hand out of my mouth, I’ll leave the bottle out here,” He paused slightly, then nodded once, stepping toward the door you’d just referenced to. You moved slowly as you got your water from your bag, rinsing out your mouth thoroughly before you took one last gulp and swallowed it. You put the bottle back down and headed into the room. 

“You can have the chair, I’ll stand,” He gestured to the only chair in the room as he leaned against the table across from you. You crossed your arms and leaned against the door. 

“I’m good with standing,” He nodded briefly before he took his mask off, revealing his admittedly handsome face to you. 

“My name is Agust, I’m the leader of the group of people out there with your coworkers. We’re here because Kevin, the owner of this branch has been stealing from his employees to pad his own pockets-”

“And why’s Nick out there?” You asked, trying not to let your anger show too much, but your not sure how successful you were judging by the look on his face. 

“Nick’s here because when he pulled in, I had my guy out in the parking lot run his tags and we found him to be… a really shitty person, to put it mildly,” You swallowed thickly, feeling almost a sense of relief that your suspicions were right, and you weren’t just overthinking about him.  

“Yeah, that checks out,” You nodded, looking down at your feet as you let your arms fall, sliding them into your pockets. “So why are you here? Kevin likes to fuck over his employee’s, sure, that’s shitty, but what’s in it for you?” He looked you up and down again, as if trying to gauge whether or not you were worthy of knowing this information or not. 

“I’ll tell you, eventually, but I have a few questions of my own first,” He crossed his arms as he stood straighter. 

“Like?” 

“Your name, for starters,” You laughed slightly, extra air flying out of your nostrils as you smirked lightly and cocked your head to the side. 

“Ah, so I’m supposed to believe that you had someone run Nick’s plates but not mine?” It was his turn to smirk, his head falling slightly as he nodded. 

“Alright, Y/n. Let’s get really into it, then,” His demeanor changed, the once kind eyes now seemed to drop their facade, his face bore a cocky smirk and his overall presence was that of a leader. Someone calm and collected, even when his initial plan was swept off it’s feet; he still knew exactly what his next step would be. “Why are you pretending you don’t care about Kevin fucking over his employees?” 

Your own attitude changes slightly as he forces you out of your facade the same way you did his. Your shoulders dropped slightly as you felt all the color drain from your face. You cleared your throat a stood up a little straighter, trying to mimic his own attitude. “Because I’d like to know a little more about you and your organization; I already knew Kevin was a piece of shit, I don’t need you, or anyone else to tell me that,” 

His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked you up and down again. There was something about the way he was looking at you, as if he was trying to see into your mind, see what you were thinking. “Why would it matter who I am if I want to bring someone like him to justice?” You sighed as you changed your stance slightly as you tried to think of a way to explain. 

“It matters because all you’d have to do to get me on your side is tell me what Kevin’s done, how long he’s been doing it, and what you plan to do about it; and I’d probably agree with you based purely off my emotions rather than if I actually agree with you or not. But if I know who you are, what you and your group are capable of, and what you plan on doing in the future, I can judge you based on logic; wether you’re inherently shitty or not.” A knowling smile seeps across his features, an almost proud look as he listened to you speak. 

“And why would I want you to agree with me, princess?” You scoffed, although you were far from offended; knowing the game he was playing. 

“I’ve seen your face and I know that you’re the leader;  not to mention the chunk of DNA that belongs to your friend still wedged between my teeth, and how it got there. Either you have to find a way to get rid of me, or recruit me,” He looks impressed as he steps down from the table and takes a small step toward you. 

“Let me re-introduce myself. My name is Yoongi, and I’m the leader of an anticapitalist organization. We steal from the rich, especially the ones that make a game out of fucking their employees out of the money they worked hard for. I don’t want to get rid of you, as you put it, because that’d be a waste; but I don’t want to recruit you just because you took a chunk out of one of my best man’s hands - or because you took his gun from him like it was nothing, or because I know you have plenty reason to want to fuck over the same people that have fucked you and your family,” He paused, taking another small step toward you, now standing less than a foot away from you.

“I want to recruit you because you’re scared shitless right now,” His voice was much lower, a serious tone filling the space between you as the smirk was gone from his face. “You still don’t know if I have a weapon on me, or if I’m going to let you out of here alive, or if we’ve hurt any of your friends or coworkers. But here you stand, speaking to me as confidently as someone that knows they’re more powerful than me,” His eyes bore into yours as if he could see your entire life laid out on a platter with just one glance.

“So, Y/n,” He took a step back, arms crossed over his chest confidently as he looked at you almost sweetly. “You’re not who we were after, and I don’t find you to be a threat to us. So, you’re free to go, if you want. You don’t have to worry about us following you or keeping tabs on you; you can just go home, go on with your life and forget this ever happened.” He paused, looking you up and down. "Or,” He leaned back against the table, one leg crossed over the other. 

“You can come with us,” You stood silently for a moment, eyes only leaving Yoongi when he finished speaking. You pushed yourself from the door and took a few steps over to the window and looked out of it, taking in the world as you had been seeing it for the past several months, before you closed your eyes, drinking in the inky black that the cover that your eyelids provide. 

You’d noticed that everything looks different throughout different phases of my life; as if there are filters over your eyes that change the colors and shadows in accordance to how you’re feeling. Some memories are all cool-toned, some warm. Some memories look yellowed, like they’d been tea-stained while others seemed more vibrant and vivid than anything else you’d ever seen. 

For the past couple of months, everything’s been dull. The world’s almost been in grey-scale as you try to find a purpose; try to find something to do with yourself. Nothing looks or feels like it used to; but for the first time in months, you are scared. You’re terrified. You smile as you relish in the feeling, the first true, raw emotion you’d felt in months.  

When you open your eyes, there’s color in the world again. The trees dance in the wind with various shades of red and orange and brown; the sky beyond them littered with soft purple hues as the sun was already beginning to set into the autumn sky.

“What happens if I decide to go with you?” You turn to look at him as you finish speaking, a light smirk on his lips before he turns to face you. 

“You come back to our base with us, we show you around, show you the ropes, and figure out how you’d best assist us. Then, if you decide you want to leave, you can. If you still want to have your job here and go back to your home and just help us out on the weekends, you can. You can also live with us and work with us full-time; but no matter what, I’d be sending you home tonight. This is something you need to think over.” You nodded again, still trying to take everything in.

“And as far as Kevin goes, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” You shook your head and raised your hands, stopping him from saying anything further. 

“I don’t want to know anything about what he did,” Yoongi nodded as he looked at you almost empathetically. “But, I’ll uhm, I’ll go with you,” His facial expression softened lightly as he smiled at you. 

Your relief very quickly changed when he reached behind his back and pulled out yet another gun and out the barrel right next to your head and pulled the trigger, shooting through the wall behind you. The sound was deafening but you didn’t flinch, your eyes never leaving his as his smirk grew wider yet. 

“Wait here, Princess. I’ll come back to get you in a few minutes,” He pulled the mask back down over his face before he opened the door and stepped out, all eyes suddenly on him. “She had a real fucking mouth on her, didn’t she?” Yoongi sauntered back over to where his captives were tied up, gun casually swinging in his grasp as he walks. 

“Kept talking about her mom; something about her still being alive if only she’d gotten her benefits like she was supposed to,” He kneeled down in front of Kevin, using the barrel of the gun to point at him. “That sound familiar to you, Kev?” Kevin was shaking, eyes wide as they bounced back and forth between the gun and Agust, who was only smirking at the terrified face of his captive. 

“Cat got your tongue? Nick?” At his lack of response, Agust moved the gun from Kevin to Nick, the barrel now only inches from his head. “Do you know anything about that?” Nick shook his head wildly, eyes clenched shut as tears spilled out of them. 

It pissed him off how scared they acted. He had a gun to their heads and they just bawled like babies; as if they hadn’t done the same thing time and time again to others. Kevin took money away from people that needed it. Money that he definitely didn’t need; and in doing so, he took away not only financial stability, but the lives of the people that depended on that money.

And while Nick didn’t steal from the poor like Kevin did, that didn’t make him any less of a piece of shit. He’d been accused of many crimes in his life; including attempted manslaughter, statutory rape, and several different domestic violence charges, but he’d never been convicted of any of them. There was never even a trial, just complaints dropped the day after they were filed, along with several very large transactions coming out of his obscenely rich father’s bank account. 

So watching them sit here and sob when their lives were threatened, knowing fully that they’ve put others in this very situation with their greed and ignorance enraged him. August pressed the gun to Nick’s temple and pulled the trigger, blood spraying all over Kevin's face in the process. 

Kevin screamed, loud sobs filling the warehouse that only pissed him off more. “Shut up, would you?” The gun was back under Kevin’s chin, his sobs silencing almost instantly as the gun forced him to look up. “I’m not going to kill you,” He took his time pulling the gun away from Kevin, eventually putting it into the waistband of his jeans before he carefully stood, his gaze already on the door you were behind as his men pulled Kevin up and dragged him out to their car. “Not yet, anyway.” 

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @bangtan4everr @angrydonutzonkpickle @secfir @useryoonmin @idkjustlovingbts

#bts #bts fic #kpop fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #suga #agust d #bts suga #bts yoongi #myg #min yoongi #Yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts x you #bts au #yoongi au #bts mafia au #bts mafia series #ringleader!yoongi #gang leader yoongi #kpop writing #bts writing #bts smut

[sugaimhome]

i don’t care - min yoongi - one shot

genre : fantasy, smut, enemies to lovers 

pairing: min yoongi x reader

summary: he was the villain. you were the hero. yoongi will make you his.

warnings: sexual content, slight dom + sub thing, missionary, doggy, unprotected sex, creampie, he slaps her like once but its not abusive, sex in a church tower, yoongi can’t not be rough (he has a breakdown over it) fantasy au. villain yoongi. starts yandere then changes. daechwita yoongi but not the one with long hair the one with the undercut.

words: 5k

A/N: not sure if i like this. not proof read. i tried to write yoongi as yandere the whole way through but i just have a soft spot for this man and couldn’t do it.

do not interact if you are a minor!

This whole villain thingy was a lot easier for Yoongi before you came along. He was doing so well, he'd killed half of his opponents, most of the good guys and was so close to getting what he had wanted. Now all his plans had been put aside. He no longer wanted the most power in the world, he wanted you. It was so wrong, he knew that, you were the hero and he was the villain, but he was the villain and he had to maintain his reputation of being twisted and corrupted. It was only natural, only what had to be done, he was going to risk everything for you.

You, however, had been completely oblivious to Yoongi's very obvious change of heart. Your goal was to keep your family and home safe; not to fall almost dramatically in love with your main rival. And you wouldn’t, you’d promised yourself that.

Nightfall seemed to come earlier tonight, families walked the streets using small candles to light their way, bright cat eyes shone in the dim flames. It was the village's annual celebration of their king, and you’d remained at the top of the church tower scouting for Yoongi because you were sure he wouldn’t pass on such a rare opportunity to ruin the joy and beauty of such a unique event. You watched each family pass, some of the children looking up and pointing at you through the dark night, you ducked behind the spire each time with a small smile on your face as you listened to their words. “It’s her Mama, the one who saves us!” 

Your heroism was about being a hero, of course, but you also liked the attention.

When you return from the cover of the spire, something has changed. The family had gone, you’d ensured they would be gone by the time you’d turned around, but they seemed to be the last. The village square, without their dim candle lights, had fallen into complete darkness. You smile, deciding that the newfound darkness and quiet meant everyone had returned home and, disappointingly, Yoongi had missed his chance. No chance for heroism tonight. You take one last look at the square before skidding down the side of the slanted roof, your feet playing the tiles like a piano. You stop at the edge, then dramatically step backwards off the side.

You often used the church spire as a lookout, and this move was completely natural to you. Grabbing the gutter, that squeaks under your weight, you catapult into the lantern, where they keep the bells, and freeze. He’s there, the scarred side of his face being lit by the full moon. He's looking at you, not with cruelty but with the same emotions he has when about to go on a mission.

“Did I miss the fun?” he asks, tilting his head mockingly. He's so close to you, he must have known that you would land exactly here at this moment. It unsettles you to know he's been here before, watching you in a place you thought was your own. A place you thought was to your advantage.

"It's only just begun" you sneer back, reaching down for the dagger tucked between your sock and your boot. It's not there. You panic, stepping back a bit before your legs hit the side of the church. The wall only reaches up to your knees and the sudden contact knocks you off balance. You flay your arms around like a bird in flight, apart from you're not a bird. You're falling, what a shit way to die. 

As your arms flap around, all the decisions Yoongi made seem to hit him all at once. He should let you fall. But he can't do that, so he reaches out and grabs you by the arm, your skin is cold, he feels the sudden urge to warm you up.

Your first thought when the hand touches your arm is that he's pushing you. Pushing you over the side of the church as a real villain would do. Yet, somehow you weren't falling, you were being pulled closer to him, your chests fall together and your breathing syncs as one. You should be moving away from him, away from the villain. But you don’t. 

Yoongi is surprised when you don't push away from him, he certainly thought it would be a harder task to make you his. Confidence fills his mind, power moves every muscle in his body. He places his hand on the back of your waist, ensuring that you don't move away from his chest. His other hand flings his dagger (it was your dagger until he stole it from your boot earlier, but he figured that wasn't the point here) off the side of the church. He thinks he can hear it clatter to the cobblestones below, but that would be impossible, they are as high as the clouds. Do the clouds hear the rain as it beats the fields below them?

When the dagger goes flying off the side of the church everything changes. You were two equals now, and with his arm around your waist you look up at him. It was a mistake, for the second your eyes meet yours he's kissing you, and there is no way that you can pull away from him now. His lips are oddly soft, his taste somewhere between strawberries and something more sour like lemons. It's pleasant and you move into his kiss further. One of his hands is in your hair, twisting your head to kiss you harder. It is at this point you know nothing will ever be the same again. You’re very aware that you shouldn’t be doing this right now. Or ever. Then you're moving backwards again, your legs are on the edge of the wall again now, but like a fool you’re so deep into the kiss you couldn’t imagine the possibility of him letting go of you, of pushing you. He pulls away from you and it dawns on you then how close you are to the side, how you have nothing to grab if you fall. 

“Yoongi?” You ask, as if you’ve been friends for years and he’s just pulling a silly prank. 

“Do you trust me?” he questions, his voice deep. He’s got a hold of your arms. There's something you've never seen behind his eyes… something oddly protective.

Watching you look at him with such wide eyed shock causes Yoongi to go slightly mad. A year ago he would have pushed you, he would have leant over the side of the little safety wall and watched you fall until all he could see was a red splatter of blood on the stones below the church. He would have picked up your body and placed it in the middle of the square for everyone to see that he had won. Now when he looked at you, he saw someone he would tear the world apart for, piece by piece. A light breeze blows between you, it picks up a strand of your hair, placing it in front of your eyes. Instinctively, he reaches up to tuck it back behind your ear. “Do you trust me?” he asks again, not embarrassed by the desperate tone to his voice.

At first you’re hesitant, do you trust him? It would be weird to say yes. Even weirder to actually admit it after all this time. But- “Yes” you breathe, letting the warmth of your breath touch the very closeness of his lips. 

“Even if I do this?” he whispers, pushing you back further against the knee high wall, you are hanging backwards a little over the wall now, the weight of his hands keeping you in place. Your heart beats in your ears like the sounding of war drums, you should be panicking. You nod your head. You trust him. He lets go of one of your hands, falling back further you can see the ground below you. So far away. You look back at Yoongi, his black hair flops in front of his face, covering half his scar and his eyes, it's a wonder he can even see. His eyes are near black and in them the reflection of a singular torch lighting up the square below glitters. It's like looking into a galaxy only made of one star.

“I trust you” you say again, trying to cover the fear in your voice. Your hand is shaking. Why you didn’t just push him away earlier you don’t know. You could have ended it there. You would have survived. He pulls you back up to his chest, you’re not breathing now, not breathing when he ball-room style swings you around so he's the one with his legs against the wall. You can’t comprehend that it wasn’t all a joke, that he really didn’t let go of you.

He’s looking at you as if you’re the centre to his gravity. “Push me” he says, broadening his chest as if to give you more space to push him with. “Push me off the side of the church”

It’s awful because you want to. You want to push him. You would have pushed him if he hadn't kissed you. In his eyes you can see the torment. The confusion plagues your face. “No,” you say, taking a step back from him.

“You’re the hero, I am the villain” he replies. Yoongi is hoping you won’t push him. He wants you, but only if you want him back. “This is your chance to win.”

“I don’t care” 

He pushes back from the wall, coming towards you like a lion stalking his prey. His eyes have more colour in them now, as if you just uncovered his soul or unearthed his heart. “You don’t care” he taunts, there's mockery in his voice, it reminds you of the evil Yoongi and you’re stepping back again. 

“I don’t care,” you repeat.

He’s in front of you now his hands seem to buzz to touch you. “Would you care if they saw you kissing me”

“No, I wouldn’t care” this was his consent as he leaned down to kiss you, it's different from the last kiss, it's less passionate, more testing of both his and your control.

“You wouldn’t care if they saw my hands on you?” he pauses the kiss to ask. You shake your head. He doesn’t touch you until he says “If they saw me do this?”  and untucks your shirt from your trousers. You continue to shake your head. “Or this?” as he raises one, cold, hand up your stomach, running his pinkie over the previously covered skin. “Or this?” as he grabs one of your boobs in his hand, squeezing it around like its dough. You want to melt, you can’t speak, you’re trying to shake your head but he’s kissing you again, your backs against a wall now, it's cold where his hand has lifted up the back of your top, you don't feel it, your body is on fire. You try to reach for the waistband of his trousers but he stops your hand mid way.  “No, I am leading this”

You want to complain, why should he get the right to touch you and you not him? You pout into the kiss - trying to convey to him that you weren't happy with the lack of power you had. 

He stops kissing you to say “If you said you trusted me” he’s peppering kisses along your neck and throat now. “Then let me do this my way.” Maybe it's the way he’s found your sweet spot, and is sucking it like a starving leach you nod in agreement. You realise that the almost painful kissing is more for him to leave his mark on you. That sends a pulse to your core. It disturbs you to know you want him to mark you, want people to know it was him. A little moan escapes your lips. Yoongi hums and it seems to go straight into your bloodstream. 

“Yoongi” you whisper, hoping to take his attention away from that area of your neck, you wanted him to do something different. You wanted him. “Please”

Yoongi doesn’t think you realise that you’re whining, moaning, pleading at him. It's cute. Yoongi liked the power he had established here, he liked being in control of you. He intended to torture you like this for hours, maybe even until the sun came up. Then he would take you here on the floor of the church, damn the gods, or on the roof where you always perched to watch for him. He would make this night so memorable you’d be bound to him, you’d never leave him or fight against him again. You’d be his.

He nips the skin of your neck one last time, you’re only distantly aware of a high pitched whine you let out. Tugging again at your shirt he grips either side of it at your waist, looking at you as he brings it up, ever so slowly, over the hills of your covered breasts. For a moment all you can see is the inside of your shirt, still warm where it had been touching your skin. Then your shirt is gone, you watch as Yoongi balls it up in his hands, and there's nothing you can do as he flings it over the side of the church. It falls through the air like a pebble through water, slowly twisting, raising a little then dropping further. When you turn to look at him again he has a dagger in his hand, you let out a breath of shock, suddenly very still. He had a dagger all along and didn’t get rid of it. You push yourself further against the wall. “Yoongi?” you ask, maybe you could talk some sense into him. Tears fill your eyes. What a humiliating way to die.

He pulls you towards him, one hand gripping the skin of your waist. You wait for the dagger to pierce your heart or to stab your side, but instead you feel the blade against your back. You stood against him, looking up into his eyes when it touched the band of your bra. The bandage-like strip meets the dagger with some resistance but after forcing the dagger up further you hear the material begin to rip. Trusting Yoongi with your life again you rest your head against his shoulder, giving him a better view of the cut he was making. You revel in the feeling of your breasts becoming less confined, letting out a little satisfied sigh. As the bra falls from you, the distant clatter of a dagger being thrown far away wakes you from your bliss. “I told you to trust me” he says, though you don’t read any upset in his voice.

“It’s difficult,” you reply. Your nipples pull tight in the cold wind, or maybe from the arousal. Yoongi wastes no time in attaching his warm lips to the skin of them. The contrast between the warmth of his mouth on one of your boobs and the cold of his hand against the other causes your knees to almost give out under you. “I want more” you whine, putting a hand in his hair and you’re sure you feel him smile against your nipple. 

“In a minute” he replies, breaking the contact with his mouth and you.

“Wanna suck you off” you try to convince him, but to no avail, he doesn’t change his attack on your body. 

“Not. Tonight” he exaggerates. For a moment you feel nothing but shock. Not only did that mean he didn’t care about his pleasure but also yours it seemed he had the intention of this happening more than once. You’re not sure you’ve ever been with someone like that before. 

In the distance you're vaguely aware of the sun beginning to rise over the crest of the hill. The crimson light it gives off hits the top of the church, casting its shadow across the square below you. Yoongi finishes peppering kisses along your stomach and for a moment you think that's it, you think he's going to leave you here, half naked and alone. He must see the fear in your eyes, he stands up, kissing you on the forehead. He leans against you, almost crushing you against the wall. His breath is on your ear, breathing heavy. “Are you ready for me”

You nod your head.

“Are you wet for me”

You nod your head. You’d been drenched from the moment he first kissed you. Feeling your heart pulsing in your pussy. 

Yoongi is very satisfied with your answers, helps you out of your loose pants, his eyes catching on the wetness left behind on your pants. Now you stood completely bare in front of him, slightly shivering in the cold of the air around you. A little black triangle of hair hid you from him. He was so hard he knew he wouldn’t last long with you. He doesn’t want to waste anymore time, he wants to be inside you. He chucks his jacket on the floor, his shirt following that. He would have kept them on but he didn’t want you to get cold. “Lie down.” he points towards his jacket and shirt. He, for a moment, thinks he sees tears in your eyes, but they are gone before he can think anymore of it. He’s aware of you sitting down on the cold floor as he pulls down his trousers, his cock jumps straight from them and slaps his stomach. Once his trousers are disregarded he turns back to you, who is staring wide eyed at him.

You can’t believe he denied you touching his cock. It looked so perfect, you could see the angry veins protruding from here. You gulp. You want him inside you so badly. You squeeze your legs together. He sees this and walks towards you, his dick so erect it hardly moves as he walks. Instead of telling you off for not lying down as he asked you, he says “is it too cold?” you shake your head.

Kneeling on the floor in front of you so your knees touch he mumbles “good.” Yoongi uses the palms of his hands to spread your legs apart, he can see you now, you’re glistening in the sunlight, your wetness practically dripping from you. He feels his dick twitch. After all those weeks of obsessing over this moment, he's now immensely worried. “lay back for me.” 

You do as you’re told, you’re also amazed at how quickly you handed over power to him. He kneels there for a moment just staring at your pussy. You close your legs with anxiety. “You’re beautiful” he reminds you and a blush runs to your cheeks. Using the palms of his hands he again opens your legs. Slowly climbing up your body, he kisses your stomach and mutters “so beautiful.” If it were anyone else you’d be mortified. But you’re not, you feel safe. He kisses up the valley of your breasts, on your neck where he’d left his mark earlier, then kisses you once on your chin. But you hardly feel that because all you can feel is his cock that has rested itself upon your thigh. You stop breathing, looking him directly in the eyes. 

Then he's moving forward, his dick pushes past your entrance. He sighs in relief but a tear slips from the corner of your eye. He’s so deep and so thick inside you it hurts. Yoongi apologises in your ear, a string of sorrys falling from his lips. “It’s okay” you say, running a hand through his hair, you don’t even know when you put it there. The light pain you felt dwindles away into pleasure. “You can move now” you hint, moving your hips a little, feeling him move about inside you. He's so warm.

He groans an “I can’t.” You tense.

“Why, are you okay?” panic laces your voice. A care for him fills your heart that you feel like you’ve been pressing back for ages. 

“Wanna fuck you” he whines, you feel his dick twitch, your pussy clenches in response. “So hard the outline of your body is dented into the floor of the church”

You clench around him. “But I don’t want to hurt you” You are surprised at his wanting to protect you. 

“I wanna be fucked” you reply, a newfound power in your voice. “I’ll be okay”

You, for a moment, wonder how weird this situation is. You’d had sex with people in the past but you knew those people, they knew your limits and you knew theirs. With Yoongi it was all new. “Please” you say. You wanted to find out everything about him, and it would start with knowing the unfiltered version of him right now.

He grabs your waist, kissing the lobe of your ear one last time before flipping you around. He kneels between your legs. “Raise your ass for me” 

You do as you’re instructed, arching your back on instinct. “What a good girl” he comments and your pussy clenches around the air at the compliment. He chuckles at you. Grabbing your waist again he uses it to anchor you as he, unlike last time, slowly inches into you. You shake with the intensity of the moment - how different he feels at this angle. A little whimper falls past his lips. You know he’s holding back. He’s still pushing into you when you push back against him, he fills you up to the hilt, you can feel his abdomen against your ass. Letting him take back the control he had claimed as his earlier, he begins to push back and forth. You can feel him inside of you, feel your heart, or maybe it was his, beat everytime he was fully inside of you. You don’t know what you did, maybe you pushed back a little or maybe you pulsed without realising it but suddenly Yoongi was going a lot faster. Your hair was falling down in front of your face as your head flops in ecstasy. It doesn’t surprise you that Yoongi pulls your hair from your face and uses it to stop you from moving forward every time he thrusts into you. He's so deep. The pain from your scalp is only secondary to the pleasure you feel, it makes the build up in your stomach heighten.

“Oh my gods” you mumble. Your hands are freezing cold against the stone floor, but you don’t care, the dick’s so good. Yoongi is so good. “Please” you beg him, you don’t know what you are begging him to do but whatever it is you hope he does it soon. There's a build up of such strong pleasure in your lower abdomen you think you might explode. Even Yoongi can feel this.

“Wait for me” he commands, and you try. You think of summer fields and children running about in the grass jumping like deer, you think of birds that fly really high only to drop, a swirling tornado. Then you pull yourself back to Yoongi. Back to his dick pounding into you so hard and deep, back to one of his hands in your hair, the other gripping your waist like a vice. Back to the cold, cold floor. Back to Yoongi, grunting, whining and moaning above you. You’ve no doubt you sound exactly the same. 

“Yoongi” you warn. You are so close, your toes are over the edge. He lets go of your waist, you think he is going to let go of you entirely just as you get so close, but he uses it to smack each of your arsecheeks. You whine in a shocking pleasure. The sound echoes around the tower, the sound of his balls hitting your clit probably echoes out around the village. You don’t care. Then both of his hands are on  your waist again and much to your disappointment, he slips his dick from you. You whine. 

“I want to look at you” there's a shuffling and then he's flipping you over again, you’re facing him now, your back on the floor. This man is really indecisive. “Hi” he says.

“Hi” you reply, but it's cut off with a moan as he enters you again. You don’t know why he had to fuck you from behind a minute ago - his fucking from missionary was pretty damn adequate. “Shit, shit, shit” you chant. “Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi” you say in time to his thrusts. 

“You’re so good for me” he says, diving for one of your nipples and playing with it between his teeth. There's so much pleasure you think you might explode, and there's not really much warning, and you can’t tell him because you can’t speak. But your cumming, hot and white lights seem to centre your vision, you can only see Yoongi amidst the roaring that is the tingling along every muscle in your body. You’re twitching and Yoongi’s fucking you through it to the point where its too much. “I told you to wait” he snarls, slapping each of your cheeks lightly, it's not to hurt you but rather to encourage you to move from that orgasm to the next one. 

“Too much” you pout, hoping he’ll slow down at least a little, but he doesn’t if anything he only speeds up. 

“We are doing it together this time” he explains, his voice wavers a little and you wonder how long exactly you have to catch up with him. You’re really sensitive but the overstimulation pain seems to dwindle away and the roaring that had quietened down begins to rebuild itself. His hips become less fluid, he's close, you’re close again. 

“I’m cumming” he mumbles, his face consorted, eyes squeezed shut. Despite this, he still manages to reach down and roll your clit between two fingers. He’s cumming and he pushes inside of you so far he’s touching a place in you that you didn’t know you had, you didn’t think you were going to cum, but with the head of his cock placed against that soft spot inside of you and his cum mixing with your wetness; you are. You’re both holding onto each other, your head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream. He collapses, his arms failing to hold up his weight. He falls on top of you, his cock falling soft inside your spasming pussy. “Gods” he sighs, rolling the two of you over so your back isn’t against the cold floor and you’re lying on top of him. Your breathing is still ragged and so is his. His cold fingers trace patterns on your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind him. You want to sleep, you're so tired. “Don’t sleep, love” he reminds you “you’ve got to get home, they’ll worry about you”

A tear falls down the side of your cheek, rolling onto his chest. “What about you?” you ask him. “Where will you go?”

“Back to my home” he replies, following the trace of your tear with his finger. Almost subconsciously you run your finger down the still red scar over his eye.

“You’re lucky you’ve still got an eye” you comment.

“I am, how would I see you without it” he grabs your wrist gently. “We need to go Y/N” 

“I don’t have any clothes.” you rest your head back on his chest, watching as his thumb runs circles on your interlinked hand. You wish it was a good enough excuse to stay. Though he only chuckles, helping you back up, only pausing to place an affectionate kiss on your nose. Still naked he helps you into your clothes. Your eyes widen in shock as he, whilst helping you into your trousers, your legs still shaky, uses his thumb to scoop up some of his cum running from your centre, and brings it to your mouth. The two of you taste incredibly good. You let out a little “mmh” as if you were trying a food. He laughs, pulling up your pants the rest of the way. 

He steps into his clothes, only putting his shirt on whilst you stand there, naked from the top half, not even trying to cover your shivering anymore. He wraps his green dyed jacket around you, zipping it up at the front. 

Yoongi’s jacket is his signature, it's his calling card. Your eyes are wide as he zips you into it, pulling out your long hair from the back of the jacket. It makes you remember that he’s the villain.

If anyone sees you in this, they’ll know what happened. 

“Yoongi, they’ll lock me up” you complain, grateful for the warmth of the jacket but not the symbol it stands for. 

“They’ll also lock you up if you walk through the streets half naked”

He has a fair point. 

“Just be quick, go through the back streets and if you see anyone, hide from them.” 

He was telling you things you already knew but you nodded anyway. “Okay”

“I’ll make a headstart on you” he swings around on his feet, making a beeline for the stairs, where he would disappear to you would not know.

“Can I come with you?” you ask. You know he’ll say no.

“Not at the moment but I’ll come back to you” there's hope and a promise in his eyes.

“How will I know that?” you ask him. You feel like crying again. 

“You have my jacket.” he walks towards the arch of the stairs, half his body hiding behind the pillar. You smile, nodding your head, though not fully convinced. He continues down the stairs but he stops, you can only see his head now. “You also have my heart.”

Yoongi sprints down the stairs, his ultimate mission complete, you were his he had marked every inch of your body, he had left his seed in side you. He was the winner. 

Then he’s gone, you’re alone in the tower, holding onto the too-long sleeves of his jacket shocked at his goodbye. Now, despite your tiredness, you had to make it home in the broad day-light without anyone seeing you. Sighing, you take off down the stone steps, the mark of your enemy on more than one part of your body, heart and soul.

as always, thank you for the support. 

#yoongi #yoongi smut #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #bts #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #suga #suga angst #suga smut #agust d

[btsugarush]

Y’all I’m on Pinterest and these are making me feel things I don’t have time to feel. Tattooed and pierced Yoongi? Please don’t give me any ideas right now. 😭

#min yoongi #bts suga #min suga #bts min yoongi #min yoongi x y/n #agust d #suga x you #bts min suga #suga angst #suga min yoongi #suga smut #suga fanfic #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi smut #yoongi min #suga fluff #suga

[kk-k-kk]

Godless

Summary: The thriving streets with booming businesses have come to a stand still. Curfews and police raids every few hours to seize any whiff of narcotics terrorised every person, regardless of involvement. The Upper Side lies unfaltering in their picket fences. In this induced borderline dystopia, in your cardboard box apartment you have found a strange joy in watching the actions of a tangerine-stealing thug.

pairing: suga/yoongi/agust d x fem!reader

part warning(s): drug trafficking

a/n: this is still very fun

PROLOGUE

The air smelled of nothing. Every inch of the hall was so clean that the novices took their time with every breath, inhaling the rare fresh air, filling their stomach with it and trying to hold it in as long as they could. 

"I will now begin to present the details of the latest report of seized narcotics from LB-Z*. The entire block has been sealed for now. But our sources tell us that this block was the latest den of Suga-"

"Suga, again?"

"Is he real? I thought that was just for the news?"

"What kind of a name is that?"

The Commissioner cleared his throat, immediately shutting up the murmurs inside the hall. He was old but when he spoke, he sounded another ten years older. He croaked, "No face to the name still?"

The presenter nervously looked towards her superior before stuttering out some vague excuses.

"Do we even know if it is one person or a gang?"

Silence spread through the hall. Every breath could be counted. No one could really understand how this kept happening. Ever since the Complete Narcotics Seize* began in 2025, the nation watched as the reputation of the Korean National Police only flew higher and higher. Drug trafficking cases that were unsolved for years were being closed one after another and just when the international eye fell on the Republic of Korea, Suga appeared. 

The Busan LBs*, which had been quietened, were suddenly posing a huge obstruction to the nation's falling crime rate. The tensions were high as the stakes were higher. Large scale meetings and conferences were being held and Busan Metropolitan Police suddenly became the most searched on the internet. 

It was obvious that a hall full of officers of every rank couldn't understand why suddenly their well put efforts were failing. The murmurs floated from inside the hall to the building, gently spreading through the city until the internet's most searched topic became Suga. 

—

"Are these fresh?"

The shopkeeper eyed the man before him, finding it funny how a grown man was drooling over some tangerines. 

"Yes. Just brought them in. How many?"

"Four."

The shopkeeper nodded, packing it in a polythene and tying a neat knot before handing it over. The crisp notes he received felt unreal, almost like they were just printed. 

"Are you coming from the bank-"

The man was gone by then. Elated, skipping steps with his dear tangerines swinging in the polythene in sync with his unruly hair. 

"What a weirdo!"

LB-Z: Busan which has become the hub of the drug trafficking business has been segregated into categorical regions by the police.

The Upper Blocks and the Lower Blocks comprise Busan. The Upper Blocks are further classified into smaller blocks named, UB-A, UB-B. These blocks are further subdivided into UB-A1 and so on till UB-B1. The basis of the categorization is not disclosed to the public.

The Lower Blocks are divided the same way with LB-A, subdivided into LB-A1 and so on till LB-B1.

LB-Z is a whole block; the very last block at the very edge of the city. It is particularly known to have the worst crimes and cheapest real estate.

Complete Narcotics Seize: Launched in May of 2025 as a 'cleansing operation' by the Korean National Police. The operation focuses on the thorough investigation of all cases related to narcotics. It began with the reopening of closed cases and proceeded to take the entirety of the Republic of Korea by storm. While not officially disclosed, it is rumoured that the operation was launched right before the raid of the offices of Eco-blue, an eco friendly clothing chain, owned by the son of a Presidential Candidate.

Busan LBs: Busan Lower Blocks

#agust d #agust d ff #bts #bts angst #bts army #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts ff #bts fluff #bts smut #yoongi ff #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #suga fanfic #kk-k-kk: godless #godless: prologue

[redrose10]

I’ve had this idea for a story in my head for a while and I just need somewhere to put it out there. This is a little teaser of one of the chapters. So far I have four chapters written with plans for several more. The first chapter should be posted in a couple days. I’ve never written a multi chapter fan fiction so I’m excited to do this. Hope someone out there likes it!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Warnings (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Teaser Below

On the last night you decided to treat yourself to a nice dinner out. Yoongi had been gone all day and you knew he wasn’t going to spend the evening with you anyways. The food was incredibly delicious and you had a really nice time with the waiter, Hoseok. He was like a big ray of sunshine and for that one dinner you were able to forget everything that had been happening. The two of you exchanged numbers so you could get together for lunch next time he visited his parents in Korea. As you were walking back to your room you came across two people all over each other in the hallway. The man’s hands were slowly going farther up the shirt of the brunette he was with. Soft moans could be heard between the two of them. Normally you’d be pretty off put that two people would be so open in public but you were happy that someone was getting intimacy. You were craving any sort of touch and these two just made you want it more.

That is until the woman accidentally dropped her purse and bent down to retrieve it revealing the man that she was with. Yoongi looked at you with his classic unreadable expression. The woman standing back up realized you were now present. She was understandably confused as to why you were waiting right there.

“Oh I’m sorry. Is this your room?”, she asked looking back at Yoongi for an explanation.

Deep down you had thought he’d tell the truth. Let her know that you were his wife. That she needed to leave. That this was your honeymoon. That he wouldn’t bring another women into your hotel room while you were there with them. Instead he just sighed,

“Yeah this is my sister Y/N. She’s sharing a room with me unfortunately.”

You felt your heart crack. The woman looked a little shocked pulling away, “Oh I’m so sorry. Maybe we should continue this elsewhere.”

You watched the smirk spread across Yoongi’s face, “Nah she won’t mind. Right Y/N?” In your head you screamed, “Yeah of course I mind. You’re my husband and you expect me to just sit there while you fuck some other woman.” But instead you gently shook your head and watched as Yoongi pulled the woman back into the room with him kissing her as he went.

You stood there and watched the door slam shut. The faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla the only thing remaining in the hall with you. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t sit in that room with them. So instead you made your way down to the lobby. At this time of night all the restaurants were closing up and you weren’t much for the bar scene so you grabbed a water bottle from a vending machine and walked out to the beach to wait it out. Once you felt you had a safe spot chosen you took a seat down in the sand. As you stared up at the sky you felt the exhaustion taking over your body. Slowly you laid back allowing the warm sand and the sound of the ocean waves to lull you off to sleep. The smell of the salty air a welcoming change to the cinnamon and vanilla that was slowly driving you crazy.

#yoongi x reader #bts #bts yoongi #yoongi #yoongi angst #min yoongi #yoongi au #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #suga #agust d #ceo au #arranged marriage au #yoongi x y/n

[bangtaninborderland]

MYG- Music To My Heart pt. 2

summary: you helped yoongi get past a musical block, he finally shows you the song but it was nothing like you’d expected.

part 1

It was exactly two weeks before the countdown for the song had begun, army going crazy over the teaser for the new single Dawn, yoongi had been in higher spirits ever since that night in the studio. He had even asked you to go yourself, calling your presence a blessing to his artistry.

The usual before a song release would be yoongi waiting around Hybe, either hidden in his studio or in the company of another member. Very rarely would he be home to watch a release unfold so you knew it must have been a special occasion when he stayed in the apartment with you, moving you both to the couch to join the countdown for the music video.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, nodding towards the timer on the flatscreen.

He continues to pet Holly who situated himself in between you both, paws tucked under the blanket covering your legs. “I don’t like to think too much about these things, this song is just one I particularly liked so I feel excited. It’s not like I can go back and change it.”

“You should be so proud of yourself, you worked hard for this and the fans will know that.” You shifted closer to him, hand reaching out to massage the base of his neck.

He leans into your touch, eyelids fluttering. “I’m nervous for you to see it.”

“Don’t be, did you forget I’m number one in min yoongis fan club.” You laugh lightly.

He shakes his head, not enough to disturb your soft moulding of his skin. “There’s a million people who would have different opinions.”

“Yeah, and Jungkook would be the first one in line to do that.” You sigh dramatically, causing you both to laugh.

The rapper shrugs his shoulders, smirking. “What can I say I’m an idol of idols.”

“Min Yoongi have you no shame or has it all disappeared because of the “big house, big car and big rings?”

He buried his face in his hands, flushing red with embarrassment as he laughs at the old lyrics. “Stop it.”

“Oh, it’s starting!” You shout excitedly, nudging him to face the screen. “I can’t believe you didn’t let me hear it before now.”

Regardless of your continuous badgering and occasional bribery, he wouldn’t let you hear the song, declaring you could only listen to it once the music video had been released. You’d given up after he locked you out of his studio for two days.

The soft melody began playing, the music video starts out in flashes of black white and grey. Your eyes are glued to the screen.

“Is that?” You noticed the soft humming tone he had made you record, playing over the sound of a piano.

“It’s you.” He responded, you didn’t question any further wanting to take in the entirety of the song.

The music video shows him travelling through some sort of timeline, images of the locations you’d met at and been on special dates to flickering in the background. The lyrics caused you to tear up, the words being more meaningful than anything you’d ever heard before.

“Oh, I'm runnin' round in a daze

We been walkin' so many ways

Feels like my heart's about to burst

Can't you see the take two?

Stories unfoldin' just for you

Youth with you by my side

Take my hands now”

The last verse came on and you broke, drawing in a choked breath as you pull his hand closer to you.

“It was possible because I was with you

I was happy being with you

I breathe in your voice

I stood up with your tears

Do I deserve your love?

The intersection of souls we've created over the years

I am so grateful and happy to be with you

Let's continue to be happy in the future”

You noticed the grainy picture of you two in the background, neither of your faces showing but you remembered it anyway, it was the day he had asked you out.

You wiped your face as the song came to a close, the last notes being the song you always whistled whenever you were cooking.

You’d never heard something so powerful, you’d never heard a song that held so much meaning and although you were an avid fan of the entire bts and agust d discography this was by far the most beautiful song you’d ever heard. The message being clearly a one of devotion, love and thanks. Something you often realised you’d never understand so clearly if you hadn’t met the man beside you.

As you turn to face him you realise how eyes are trained on you, you doubted he had watched a moment of the music video. “It was so beautiful.”

He ran a hand down the side of your face, wiping away a stray tear. Search the song.”

“What?” You gave him a puzzled look pulling out your phone.

As you typed the title into Naver a ton of results followed, mostly articles about the release of the song. “Now what?”

“Search the credits.” He laughed, watching your eyes.

You did as he instructed and began reading through them. You went stoic with shock as you see the word “ace” below the melody section.

When you’d first met each other he had always called you that because he said you were the ace of multitasking. Dealing with your own job and supporting him at all times whilst making him his favourite foods whenever you could.

“Yoongi I don’t know what to say it’s all so perfect.” You began crying again and this time he brought you closer to him, careful to mind the sleeping dog as he pulls your head to his neck.

“I wanted to thank you for everything these past few years. For being my best friend and accepting partner, for loving me and the members. I’ll never not be grateful to have you.” It’s only when you pull back you realise he too has tears in his eyes.

You lean in to kiss him, the action speaking louder than words. “I love you Min Yoongi.”

“I hope I can spend the rest of my life with you.” He whispers back, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You kiss his head in return earning a smile.

“You really are something.” He laughs, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Wait until your number one fanboy Jungkook finds out you made a song about me.”

He rolls his eyes, fake groaning. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You humm, tapping your chin dramatically.“You won’t but neither will I.”

“And why is that?” He raises an eyebrow, cockily.

“Because I’m yours forever.”

#bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #min yoongi #suga #agust d #bts smut #bts comfort #yoongi comfort #bts angst #bts #bts yoongi #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #jimin x reader #Jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #Namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #seokjin smut #namjoon smut #Hoseok smut #Jungkook fluff

[aseaofyoongi]

we belong together | ch.1

min yoongi x reader (f)

genre: min twins au; angst; smut; arranged marriage themes; fake dating; enemies to lovers; slow burn

rating: mature audiences only (18+)

word count: 8,8 thousand words

summary: before college you and your bestfriend yoongi promised your parents if you were to come back home single you would begin dating to marry as a way to get them to back off your love lives. upon coming back however, although you’re both single, yoongi is in love with someone else and unwilling to let them go. unfortunately, you are left to carry out the hapless promise with yoongi’s twin brother and your sworn enemy min yoojin.

warnings: arranged marriage themes; slowburn; enemies to fake dating to eventual lovers;bickering; wet dreams, post college au; clitorial stimulation; fingering; denial/supression of feelings; sexual tension; brief mention of choi soobin of txt; secrets; chapter one set up like an intro; this is unedited so sorry for mistakes now.

posted: november 27, 2022 at 9:20pm

previous: teaser | next: part 2

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Confined.

That’s the feeling you’ve been consumed by for a sizable amount of your life. As if you were utterly trapped in a massive black hole just floating aimlessly amongst the grand ocean of loneliness and darkness; waiting to be chewed up and spit out with little to greet you on the other side.

Every little detail about your life has been promptly calculated since the moment you were a fetus in your mother’s womb. There was no event spared for you to decide on your own free will as your parents steered you down an avenue of accomplishments worthy of your families last name. While time and time again you wanted to snatch the wheel from their hands and swerve in your own direction there was something that stopped you every single time the thought even emerged in your head. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was or where it derived from but you shucked it up to cowardice and continued to comply in being the exemplary daughter they had molded you to be.

Actually, that was bullshit, ‘comply’ was a loose term. You felt it your obligation to obey their demands one after another because it wasn't your duty as their one and only daughter to not burden them with insignificant nuisances.

Still you’d imagine some management over your own life would be nice once in a while. As much as you craved the idea however it was unattainable. A mere figment of your wildest dreams.

Walking through the rotating doors and before you could get a single word out the boy sitting behind the front desk greeted you with a beaming smile. He was nothing short of adorable and you could practically see the bright splendor of vibrancy radiating right off his ambiance. He shone so bright he served as the luminescence for the entire room, “Jiminie, you are glowing.”

There was a gleam sparkling in his eyes at your emphatic display of affection. Jimin was special to you—he was a genuine friend. One you’d make entirely on your own without the need of your parents’ influence of persuasion.

“What can I say. I’m a different man than I was two days ago.” He dusted off the implied dust of the yoke of his black button up as a way to exhibit a hint of pride. Although you knew the reasoning for his puffed chest and radiant grin you decided on teasing him anyway.

“Hm. . I can’t recall anything happening in the past couple of days.” You rubbed your chin pretending to be hurdling around a million thoughts.

Which technically you were daily.. but not because of this and never because of Jimin.

“Seriously?” He pouted, looking a bit deflated like a balloon running low on helium and you couldn't stand to see the sad puppy dog eyes substituting his usual sparkle.

“Of course not. I could never forget my second favorite day of the year right behind my own birthday.” You pulled out a small white box tied in a navy blue ribbon. His favorite color. “Happy birthday, Jiminie.”

His gasped was louder than you expected and the patrons who loitered around the lobby immediately turned their lurking eyes in your direction but neither of you cared. “You really shouldn’t have.”

“Nonsense. Besides, what are friends for?”

“These look so expensive,” he whispered as the opened gift box sat opened on his petite palms displaying the present you had worked on for months. A small pair of sterling silver hoops with the letters ‘JM’ engraved in the inner top corner of the earring. “You didn’t have to.”

“You deserve way more than this, Jimin-ah Plus the big two-one should be celebrated appropriately. Are you doing anything special this weekend?”

“I was planning on going out with someone this weekend but I don’t know if they’ll have the time anymore,” he shrugged. “Apparently, something super secretive came up.”

“Well if the loser ditches. You know I’m always down to party.” You extended your hands to pinch at his roseate cheeks. They truly resembled the softness and intricate tint of strawberry mochi, “I can’t believe you're getting so old already.”

“Ouch,” he smacked your hand away. “You sound exactly like my mother.”

“Correction! I am like your mother. I’ve practically raised you for the past 3 years.”

“You’re only 4 years older than me.”

“It might as well be a ten year difference.” The younger chuckled at your dramatic antics which resulted in you eventually joining along.

“Today after work I have uni orientation but how about we meet up-”

“Back it up,” You interrupted, holding onto his hand tightly. “‘Uni’ as in University?”

“That’s right,” he beamed, “majoring in dance.”

Jimin’s enthusiasm was evident in the way his voice glossed over your tympanum with its delicate velvet vibration. His pitch was just a bit higher than usual and you’d immediately notice how his cheeks curved into an adoring smile—the way he talked about dance. That was the exact way you felt towards painting. The only difference between the two of you was he had a vacant street and a straightforward road ahead to follow. While you stood at the start line with a business degree you had no desire of obtaining in the first place and dozens of obstacles in your way. Thrown in your path by your very own mother and father.

You were happy for him—but you resented his freedom.

“I’m so happy for you. I hope I’m automatically invited to all of the showcases to come.”

“Without a doubt.”

You painted your softest on your cheeks. “Please let me know if you ever need help with anything for school. Promise me, Jiminie?”

“Promise.”

“Keep me updated on your birthday plans,” you walked towards the elevators pressing the first button before it lit up white but the doors remained closed. “I forgot to ask. Is he in yet?”

“I think so. I punched in about an hour ago but I haven’t seen him leave or anything.” Jimin’s demeanor shifted at the mention of your best friend. There were remnants of nervousness in his motions as he fidgeted around with one of the many silver bands hugging his fingers. A habit you’d notice he’d adopt when in distress but you didn’t question it, “I guess I’ll surprise him.”

He spoke almost in a whisper, “you can invite him if you want.”

“Yoongi?”

He nodded.

“I’ll let him know.”

The younger boy nodded but words failed to follow. He remained as quiet as a mouse. The usual richness of his chocolate eyes was dulled down and he never bothered to meet your eyes once as the elevator doors opened.

“See you later, Jiminie.” You stepped into the mirrored walls of the four by four elevator waving him off as the doors began to shut slowly—he waved back.

“See you later.”

The ride up to the 50th floor was shorter than you remembered but you supposed you were distracted by the dozens of thoughts colliding in your head. The main one sitting at the forefront was Jimin’s hostile — tense even — reaction at the mention of Yoongi’s name. To you it was no secret that between the two of them another world war could ensue as they agreed on very little and argued about a lot more but this time it just felt different and you couldn’t figure out why.

The elevator dinged indicating you’d made it to your destination. The digital numeric pad appeared to the left side of the elevator and you quickly punched in the code before the steel doors opened, granting you access to your bestfriends loft.

“Yoongi?” You called out, walking deeper into his home, past the foyer and down the hallway leading you to the living room area. His apartment was in utter disarray. There were shoes, pillows, blankets, clothes and countless objects scattered all over the floor. While a multitude of takeout containers were spread all over the coffee table still containing food that had to be at least a couple of days old. A simple whiff sent your nostrils into a frenzy as the putrid stench overtook the atmosphere. As a result, you pinched your nose to avoid anymore of the horrid smell invading your senses.

Walking past the leather L-shaped couch you set your things on the kitchen island and immediately the mountain of dishes accumulating in the sink.

This was so unlike him.

If there was one perpetual detail you’d become familiar with in all your years knowing Yoongi, it was his cleanliness. And the lack of organization around you only sent a troubling worry to course through you only imagining the worst of events to have unfolded. Your shaky hands reached into your bag for your phone, immediately pulling up his number from your contact list.

No answer. You dialed again—nothing.

Suddenly, your ears became alarmed by a soulful voice.. humming. The melodic vibrato was coming from the direction of Yoongi’s bedroom and even in the distance set out between you and him you could tell the person knew how to carry a tune. That definitely was not Yoongi.

For a second you feared you might be interrupting one of his rendezvous but Jimin hadn’t alerted you of anyone being over.

“Yoongi. .” You called out again a bit louder but you were not met with a response, just the continued rhythmic hum bouncing off the walls—it was soothing and silky and it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. In the back of your mind you know you should feel uneasy but the saccharine voice was hypnotic, recognizable to your ears even and you were enthralled by his sweet song like a snake to a pied piper.

The vexatious ring of the elevator rang behind you followed by the click clacking of shoes against the marble floor.

“Yoongi?” Realistically, you knew you were an idiot for yelling out into the void but in your defense. . Fine, there was nothing to defend. It was downright fatuous on your part. Entirely hypocritical after having made fun of protagonists in horror movies for doing the exact same thing.

“Yes. .” His tone was puzzling and although your impromptu visit was definitely unannounced it wasn’t entirely out of the blue. Your name tasted of lemons against his rose tinted lips, “what are you doing here?”

You rounded the corner into the main foyer and there he was. His skin mimicked the pale tints of ivory. He raked his fingers through his auburn locs displaying the sudden panic in his cafe noir tinted eyes stripping them of their usual shine.

“I texted you last week,” you waved your phone in your hand. “I told you I would be coming to visit after being away for the past few weeks.”

“Right. .” he nodded, “right.”

He forgot.

He never forgets, yet he forgot.

“I just—” there were beads of sweat glistening his temples. “I expected you a little later on in the day is all.”

And now he lied.

Yoongi would never lie to you.

You swallowed the lump sitting in your throat. It was hard to stand before someone you’ve known most of your life and feel so unfamiliar with the version of them you used to know. “Time has never been an issue before. If you prefer I can leave and come back later.”

“No,” He plopped all the bags he’d been carrying down on the floor. Cleaning supplies? Understandable considering your surroundings. “Please stay. I’ve just been dealing with something.”

“Does it involve Jiminie?”

“Jimin?”

You nodded.

“Why? Did he mention anything?”

“Is there anything to account for?” You crossed your arms at your chest. Your attempt at looking a bit more serious. Hoping he’d spill whatever the fuck happened with Jimin which they both seemed to be hiding from you.

“No. .” he stuttered. Not very convincing.

“Are you asking or telling me, Min Yoongi?” your tone was rugged and if you were a rose your thorns would be piercing right through his flesh.

“Telling. .” His words were still sitting on a balance between an inquiry and a statement and Yoongi himself seemed to not be entirely sure which he believed the most, “I’m telling you.”

“Can you listen to yourself Yoongi?” You roared. “Are you really believing the words coming out of your own mouth right now?”

“You’re asking way too many fucking questions,” he scratched the back of his head. “My head cannot tolerate it right now please.”

“Bullshit.”

“No—not bullshit. You are really causing me a throbbing migraine.”

“No.” You hissed, “you did that to yourself.”

“Did you come over just to fight?”

“Not exactly. . but it seems that’s the route you’ve driven us down. So nice to have you back in town.” You walked back to fetch your bag from the kitchen, “by the way your house smells like shit.”

“Well that’s totally my bad.” His voice was bass almost reaching the deepest depths of the undiscovered sea. The sound in the utterance of his words rumbled behind you like an unexpected spark of thunder causing a nimbostratus cloud to near as the azure sky you were used to turned to a dark gray hue. You felt a gaping hole developing in your stomach—slowly swallowing your entire being. So you stood waiting to be sucked in and vanish into thin air.

It couldn’t be.

“Are you just gonna stand there like a fucking statue?” he snickered.

“I’m hoping you would actually disappear.”

“Ah, just as. . peculiar as I remember.”

Yoongi’s eyes inflated to the size of golf balls as he entered the kitchen. He either didn’t know his idiot brother was in town OR he didn’t expect you to find out his idiot brother was in town.

Either way, paired with the secrecy in whatever the fuck was going with Jimin; this was yet another thing he kept from you.

“Were you ever going to tell me that he was back in town?” you were fuming with rage and any more unfounded words would have you reaching a venomous pique you hadn’t reached with Yoongi in a long long time.

“I was going to,” he took a deep breath. “Perhaps, initially I thought I wouldn’t have to.”

“Which one is it?” you tapped at the marble floor with the toe box of your red bottoms. Your back still turned towards the unwanted intruder standing behind you.

“Actually. .” he began, “this is why I was expecting you a bit later in the day.”

“Go on.”

“I needed to propose something to you,” Another thunder blared but this time it was nearer. So close you felt its vibration through your body. “To the both of you.”

“Well. .” Yoojin whispered in your ear, closing the distance between the two of you. His words were lento in their pace and so mellow. You despised the way his euphonious voice was fucking sweet like honey and most of all you hated the way the continued to effect you after so many years, “I already know but we still have to fill you in.”

You turned around to push him away but instead your eyes gravitated towards his towel that was disposed of on the floor near the frame of the kitchen door. His bare physique was completely exposed to your eyes. He was as captivating as you remember and though Yoojin wasn’t chiseled by any means, he was much more captivating than any Greek god who had been marbled into a statue. Not to mention, those pieces of so called art didn’t have a third fucking leg for a dick. He brushed his long black locs back exposing the rich tone of his skin's golden hue. “Yoojin, you wanna stop eye fucking her and put your towel back on?” Yoongi hissed.

You shook your head forcing yourself back to reality. Calling on sane thoughts and drifting your thoughts away from Yoojin and the reminder of his beautiful and massive cock.

“But I like having it all out,” he snickered. “Especially if there’s an audience.”

Yoongi walked past the two of you and grabbed the towel before throwing it in Yoojin’s direction. Your eyes remained on his slender fingers as he wrapped the rectangular fabric low on his waist.

You hated yourself for feeling as if you were still in the palm of his hands even after he did what he did and even after being away for such a long time.

You hate him. He means nothing to you.

“So about that proposition. .”

“Right.” You pointed towards Yoojin, “how come the evil twin already knows but I don’t?”

“He’s been here for the past three days.”

“Three days?” you muttered through clenched teeth.

“Now before you get mad at me again,” Yoongi cleared his throat and Yoojin pranced around the room semi-naked reaching for the handle of the refrigerator. The towel hung low on his body and you despised admitting you were enchanted by him once again there was a part of you hoping it would accidentally slip off. Besides, your last good memory of Yoojin featured him being nude anyway. “I wasn’t here when he invaded my house. I was away.”

“But aren’t you glad I found my way back home?” he raved. His hands flailed in the air signaling his brother to proceed. But that wasn’t cause for your perturbation, it was the cynical smile plastered on Yoojin’s face.

“Go on.”

You raised an eyebrow in your bestfriends direction as he took a seat on the stool beside you. Seemingly consumed by his own thoughts and although his mouth opened more than once there were no actual words being spoken. And while you understood he might need a minute to communicate whatever it was he needed to say. You were slowly dissolving into a puddle of apprehension. Although, you didn't know the precise reason for being here in this position, you couldn’t shake off the anxiousness coursing through your body. Despite what you felt you opted to accompany him in silence deducing perhaps all he needed was a moment of peace. Perhaps, all he needed was you to be there even if it was just like this.

“Yoongi?” You snaked your hand under his intertwining your fingers together, “what is the proposition.”

Though you weren’t looking at him you could feel his eyes burning a hole on you from across the room.

“It’s less of a proposition.. more of a favor.”

“I’m all ears.”

“You promise not to fight with me?” he rested his head on your shoulder.

“I promise.” You held your breath as you levitated above the cerulean sea. It was calm, for now.

Seven words were all it took to leave you sitting speechless with no thoughts baring consciousness to even compose a single sentence. The ocean beneath you no longer lapped its miniscule waves whispering their timid tune, the surf was ravenous and his fucking words had you decending deeper and deeper into the roaring waters.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi. What exactly do you need me to do?”

“A decoy.”

“A decoy?” you inquired.

“A decoy.” Yoojin confirmed, “you do know what that is right?.”

You ignored him. Directing your attention to your best friend, “And you want me to. .”

“I want you to date Yoojin who will be pretending to be me.”

“Why?”

“While you were gone. .” his clammy hands held onto yours a bit tighter, “my parents in agreement with yours provided me with an ultimatum and it was birthed from that ridiculous promise you and I made to them like four years ago.”

“The promise?” your eyebrows scrunched up together shooting him a puzzled look.

He nodded. “The dating to marry promise.”

“That fucking promise?” You scoffed. “We made that to get him off our backs before college. They were setting us up with people we didn’t even know.”

“I’m so fucking glad I left.” Yoojin whispered.

Although, you wanted to be upset at his irreverent comment—he was right. He was always adamant in wanting to opt out of this manufactured lifestyle and actually had the courage to simply walk away but unlike him you and Yoongi were the cowards who you stuck around. Enduring every fucking obstacle your parents chucked your way with a graceful smile still plastered on your faces to satisfy their perfect child syndrome. The two of you were fucking masochistic.

“We didn’t actually mean it though,” you stammered. . your mind was in a haze, struggling to find your way to the surface as you continued to sink deeper under the blue blankets of the sea, “. .but that is not what you want, Yoongi. It is not what I want.”

“When have they spared us our feelings? Our privacy? I met someone you know.” He sounded so fragile as if his heart would break at any moment. Perhaps it already has.

One thing was certain, your heart was already shattered into dozens of tiny irreparable pieces. You had nothing to lose just the condemning perpetuation of a love-less marriage to an affluent tycoon. There wouldn’t be happiness but it’d be something you could endure. Yoongi on the other hand.

He couldn’t.

“And I’m guessing this is where the proposition comes in?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Upon coming back from my vacation Yoojin decided to sporadically visit. He was already at my house. And during that same time our parents phoned me telling me about their plans for us. For our future.. but I’ve met someone who doesn’t know about the wicked ways of our family and I cannot let him go.”

“And I really have to fake date this idiot?”

“I think you mean this handsome idiot,” He stood behind you on the stool placing his chin up on your other shoulder. The proximity between the two of you became miniscule the closer he pressed his chest against your back. You wanted to push him off you but your body betrayed you and it selfishly craved the heat radiating from his semi naked figure like an itch finally being scratched.

“No, that’s not at all what I meant,” you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t worry it won’t be for long.” Yoongi reassured you, “I won’t take forever. I promise.”

“Forever’s a long time.” A nippy shiver ran down your spine when his minty breath crashed against the nape of your neck as he chanted his tempestuous locution. The pool of arousal between your thighs seeped on to your panties. All you could think about was his carnal utter vocalizing his filthy desires to you as he fucks you agaisnt the island or maybe the counters or against every single piece of furniture in this apartment.

“This will never be synonymous to forever,” you scoffed hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your legs were pressed just so tightly onto one another.

“Do you thrive on being annoying?” Yoongi interrupted your sinful thoughts.

“No. But I know you enjoy cockblocking.” Yoojin winked at you.

“There is no cock to block.”

His thunderous laugh rumbled through the walls of the apartment as he exited the kitchen.

Your eyes followed after him, “can I just get back to you later? I need to think about this.”

Yoongi hummed, “I’ll be a text or call away.”

Arriving back at your apartment was a breath of fresh air—though, it was quiet and lonely on most nights. Having a space away from your parents house and their controlling nature was peaceful. Not to say they didn’t just barge in here sometimes but you’d figure dealing with them sometimes was better than dealing with them all the time.

You kicked your shoes off by the door and placed your purse and keys on the entryway table stationed near the front door.

Yoojin was back. You were boggled by the realization as it hit you once again. No matter how many times you repeated it in your head it sounded false—like your mind was playing a trick on you.

Except it wasn’t.

He was back.

And now you have to date him. . This felt like a wicked curse bestowed upon you by your worst enemy and you couldn’t imagine coming out of the whole ordeal sane and in one piece.

But you have to.

Except, the terms of this whole charade replayed in your head as Yoongi uttered them off to you.

‘You will be a couple. You have to kiss, hold hands, be affectionate and actually look like you mean it. Our parents will be watching the two of you two carefully and while you are you, Yoojin will be me.’

You knew Yoongi wasn’t doing it out of wickedness.. he was completely oblivious to what had happened between the two of you but it still felt so cruel.

So fucking cruel.

You plopped on the bed following an exasperated sigh staring up at the eggshell ceiling. A flood of memories coursed through your head—all of them having one common denominator: Min Yoojin.

If you were going to get into specifics your story with the Min twins began the first day of sixth grade when they began middle school as the new kids in town. Yoongi was placed in your class and the two of you shared nearly every class together. You’d remember the first day the teacher introduced him to the class. All of your classmates were indifferent to the boy standing in the front of the class; they were all distracted by their own doings. Some on their phones while others simply ignored the situation entirely as only a few pairs of eyes lifted up to catch a glance at him but your attention remained on him from the moment he walked in.

“Yoongi.” you repeated to yourself.

The soft curves of his timid smile were dulcet—painted in the pastel undertones of comfort and familiarity. You didn’t know him, not yet. . but it sure felt as if you did. In no time that feeling became a reality, as you got to know him real well, real quickly when the both of you connected instantly.

What you didn’t bargain for however was Yoongi’s mischievous twin brother—older by a whopping 2 minutes he’d often argued.

Min Yoojin.

The moment you laid eyes on him your world shifted. Though, he shared the same face as your best friend. He was just . . so goddamn different. While Yoongi kept his hair in a bowl cut his fringe covering nearly half of his face Yoojin kept his short with a middle part framing his petite face, golden skin and dark brown eyes. He used to dress in black while Yoongi’s wardrobe was colorful and bright. They were complete opposites. Yoojin was also an introvert, reserved and kept to himself all of time. Adding to the mysterious aura everyone wanted to crack. Yourself included but unlike the other you kept your distance.

You weren’t really sure why you did. You just knew you didn’t want anything to come between your friendship with Yoongi.

For a long amount of years you kept at the promise you made to yourself but the more time you spent around him (and between sneaky glances and scarce verbal encounters which you often re-lived bashfully under the safety of your bed sheets) the deeper your crush developed.

Your first mistake was developing feelings and the second was that moment of weakness you had succumbed to which led everything to crash and burn to ashes.

Your continuous mistake however was the way your heart continued to palpitate increasingly at the mention of his name—it was obvious in the way your body reacted to him, desiring his touch and attention even now.

There was a slight knock at the door. You weren’t exactly expecting anyone but figured it was Yoongi being anxious as usual to remind you once again of the details of the agreement made between the two of you. . And the other Min.

“Who’s there?” you really needed to stop that.

There was no response.

Looking through the peephole you eye was met with a head full of black locs that hovered right above his shoulders. He stood with his hands in his pants front pockets, swaying his body back and forth as he waited for you to answer.

“What do you want?” You yelled, door still closed.

“Just—” he sighed and you saw as he leaned against the doorframe, “please open.”

“I am not going to open until you tell me why you’re here.” Some might say you were being childish and perhaps you were but Yoojin was the last person you expected to come knocking at your door at 1 in the morning.

Yoojin landed a harder knock, “just open up already.”

“Aggression will get you nowhere.”

“Aggression?” He scoffed, it was your persistent hobby to push his buttons. After everything he had put you through, this could be your coping mechanism.

This time he repeatedly pounced on the door.

“You’re going to wake up my fucking neighbors.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” you opened the door slightly, revealing an agitated Yoojin. Immediately, a cunning smile across your face. “Hi.”

“Save it.” He pushed past you, his shoes were placed by yours at the entrance and he walked further into your apartment as if he was familiar with the place.

“If you haven’t noticed,” You shouted after him, “You haven’t been here after disappearing so you cannot just walk into my fucking house like you own the place.”

You found him sprawled out on your couch, seeing him this comfortable in your house really pinched at your nerves for some odd reason, you just wanted to throw something at him just to induce a bit more of irritation his way.

“First of all,” you pushed his feet of the couch, taking a seat on the opposite couch, as far away as possible, “these are new so get your fucking feet off.”

“They are the same fucking couches you had in your room back at your parents house.”

“Well, did you come over to analyze my fucking furniture, or did your little impromptu trip have a actual point?”

“I came over because…” he scratched the back of his neck, why was he nervous? “I missed you.”

You burst out in laughter, but his expression remained stern, “I’m sorry,” you continued, “It’s just you literally had years after years to miss me. Yet. . Now?” you snickered.

“You’re so fucking immature,” he hissed.

“And you’re a fucking loser knocking at my door begging to get some pussy.”

“I never asked for pussy and for the record I wouldn’t have to beg.”

“But you do agree that you’re a fucking loser right?”

He shrugged, “if I say yes will it get me some pussy points?”

“Fuck you, Yoojin.”

You stood ignoring his question and existence, walking in the direction of the kitchen as he followed behind.

Why did you even answer the door? There was a versatility in the feelings you possessed for Min Yoojin that drove you to an intersection. The same one you stood at this precise moment, stuck between two roads. One side was composed of all of the core memories you held onto like a photobook in the back of your mind. This avenue was the reason why your heart beat at the mention of his name. The other other option was a road of sorrow, heartbreak and melancholiness. And every single memory with Yoojin there, you wanted burned to ashes.. It was the reason why you wanted to rid yourself of such a nuisance promise once and for all.

He called you by your name, something you hadn’t heard since that day. It sounded so foreign to your ears but your body felt the complete opposite, there was a bolt of electricity coursing through you causing the hair follicles on your arms to stand straight.

Years later, still the same effect.

You were pathetic.

“Tell me you don’t miss me.” He whispered.

“Wow, that was really fucking cringy.”

Yoojin chuckled as he shook his head, “glad to see not much has changed.”

“I could say the same.”

He stood on the other side of the kitchen island while you leaned on the counter near the sink. It was summertime, the heat was off and your air conditioner was set on high, yet you could feel the beads of sweat forming at the palms of your hands.

“Was your prime objective to make a fucking fool out of yourself,” you crossed your arms at your chest, “did you achieve your goal for the day?”

“Actually, no,” Yoojin rounded the island and walked towards you, closing the distance you had been so desperate to maintain between the two of you, “I just wanted to make sure we were good after our meeting back at Yoongi’s place.”

“I told Yoongi I needed some time.”

“Is it because of me?”

It is. “No.”

“Then why wouldn’t you just agree?”

“Because unlike you I can’t just hide behind this fake relationship. I’m me.” Your tone is a bit more hurtful than you intended, “and I have to continuously lie to my parents for the long foreseeable future.”

He nodded, seemingly understanding where your frustrations stemmed from. Even though that wasn’t your frustration at all. Your parents controlled your life for as long as you could remember and dating fake ‘Yoongi’ who’s actually Yoojin was going to be the best form of secret rebellion you could come up with.

Your parents aren't fond of Yoojin. As his own parents aren’t fond of him. And that slight detail made things so much better.

“You’re right. I guess I never considered the route your life and Yoongi’s life took,” he stepped closer, “the fact that Yoongi even has to go through such lengths is. .” he sighed.

“It’s fucked,” you finished for him, “but that’s how life has been here, at home, for him and I.”

“Tell me. .” his eyes were just as star-filled as you remembered, so alluring, dark, “who were they planning to marry you off to?”

“Choi Soobin.”

“Ah,” the proximity between the two of you was slim and any sudden moves would have the two of you pressed against each other. An exciting thought, though you would never admit it out loud, not with Yoojin around. “He’s richer than the Min’s will ever be. How did you manage to slip away from that?”

“I almost didn’t,” you began, “Soobin is sweet, the sweetest person I’ve ever met actually. We went on so many dates and although we clicked instantly, it was more platonic than romantic. There was love but not like our parents were hoping for so we made plans to walk away from the whole thing.”

“And both parents agreed?”

You shook your head, “Of course not, but in trying to get out of that, Yoongi and I ended up in this. . Well you and I now.”

Once again a deep silence fell in the room.”

“Was that all you wanted to know about?” He nodded, “this could’ve been a text, Yoojin.”

“You never gave me your new number.”

“I know you well enough to assume you probably swiped it off Yoongi’s phone when he wasn’t looking.”

“Did.” He smiled brightly, his golden cheeks rose up like a loaf of bread right out of the oven.

That damned smile. It was so delicate, so bright, mesmerizing, so hard to forget. You knew because that same smile played in your dreams night after night. It was your artistic inspiration and the reason why you always secretly hoped to see Yoojin once more.

However, now that he was here, it was more complicated. You found yourself in a staggering debate ever since you laid eyes on him again. Your mind told you to send him off already, that you’ve entertained him long enough. While, the ocean between your thighs, begged for you to take him back to your room.

You must’ve been enthralled in your own thoughts because you hadn’t noticed when Yoojin closed that tiny gap between you, placing his hands on your waist.

“Yoojin,” you murmured.

“My name has always sounded so much better on your lips,” his hand abandoned the indent of your body and came up to your face, tracing your silk lips.

“Yoojin, please,” your voice was so weak, your eyes were shut so tight you could actually see stars.

“Yoojin please stop or Yoojin please don’t stop.” His hand retracted itself from your lips as he waited for you to answer.

“Yoojin please touch me already before I end up going crazy,” you blurred out.

“See, I knew you it,” his hands wasted no time finding themselves at the hem of your panties. If his intent was to tease, he was definitely working you up real nice and slow because even after what felt like five minutes of having him head south, you still waited for some sort of stimulation.

“When I said touch me, I meant now.”

“Patience.” He said in a hushed tone.

“I’m not a patient person and you know that.”

Yoojin smirked, finally dipping his hand into your underwear. His fingertips found themselves tracing shapes against your clit slowly as his lips landed on the nape of your neck. His mellifluous kisses felt sultry against your skin.

Still, he maintained a timid pace.

“More,” you breathed into his ear, you began moving your hips faster against his fingers.

“You really know what you want huh?”

You nodded, not a single stutter in the way you continued swaying at your own pace. Forward and backwards you moved—chasing your own high.

“Hm, you look so hot like this you know,” he hummed, “just as I remembered but. .” he removed his fingers from your body just as you were nearing your peak, “I want to make you cum on my own accord.”

Your labored breathing hindered a response to escape your lips but you were determined to have things your way.

You felt as two fingers sat at your entrance, pressing against you teasingly, the squelching sound chimed as a result of how drenched you were. He massaged your slickness lento, the recurrent circular motion he added to the bubbling anticipation rushing through you, as his digits began sinking further into your cunt.

“You’re so warm, doll.” He groaned.

Being a whimpering filled mess at the mercy of Yoojin’s fingers was not how you expected your night to roll out when you opened the door earlier that night. But an hour into his visit, here you were bearing his attack against your walls as his digits moved in and out of you slowly.

“Yoojin,” you whimpered, holding on to the edge of the kitchen counter—feeling the knot at the pit of your stomach tighten already .

“That’s it, doll,” His earthy tone was raw and tickled your inner ear, sending a frigid chill down your spine. “Cum for me.”

His pace hastened grazing the spot that drove you over the edge.

You could feel it.

Fuck.

You woke up in cold sweat, heavy breathing. Looking beside you on the bed, you expected a naked Yoojin to be lying next to you, instead you were alone.

It was a dream.

You sighed, slightly relieved that you had not fallen into his abysmal trap so easily.

It was only just a dream.

Thursday came around quicker than expected and being incognito for the last couple of days really served as a form of needed therapy. Providing you all the time needed to think things through—to make a decision on Yoongi’s proposition.

Though, your heart threw spears at Yoojin’s name, you knew Yoongi wouldn’t be asking for a favor if this magnitude unless he was desperate—plus you figured if you were in the same situation, and you found your better half, Yoongi would be one hundred percent willing to do the same for you.

‘How do you know he is the one?’

You asked Yoongi.

‘..Because I cannot picture my life without him.’

So your decision, although hard, came to you rather quickly.

‘I’ll do it. . . For you.’

‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.’

‘Will I meet him soon?’

‘Soon.’

You haven’t spoken with him for two days since that conversation took place over the phone with the passing of midnight clouds bearing as the only witness to the assertion of the deal concealed between the both of you.. and Yoojin.

Since then, you were in solitude for a couple more days to prepare yourself for life after the decision you’ve made—to link arms and walk side by side with the treacherous Min until Yoongi was ready to get things (not so) straight with his parents.

Tonight, however, your last spec of sanity disintegrated as your weekend isolation was cut short by your favorite front desk boy as he invited you to celebrate his birthday at club Fuego. Initially, Jimin had decided the two of you were desperate for a much needed night out without the presence of anyone else and you agreed but to your demise and slight surprise, Jimin knew of Yoongi and Yoojin. He knew about Yoojin being here on a secret mission with you and somehow at the expense of that the twins ended up on the invite list to the birthday celebrations as well.

You didn’t mind but a part of you wanted just one more day away from it all, from Yoojin mainly.

The journey in finding the perfect outfit was more exhausting than you would have liked to admit but an essential to having a good night out included looking your best. First, you tried on a knitted royal blue long sleeve dress, though the color was perfect the more you looked in the mirror the more you hated the way it looked for an odd reason; not really flattering at all. Next, came an all black ensemble consisting of a black crop top and black faux leather plants but it looked bland and not ‘night club worthy’ at all. You discarded that outfit in the ever growing mountain of clothes taking residence on top of your bed. Exhaustion washed over you as a result of your continuous outfit changes, and even then you still had no fucking clue on what to wear.

You needed to be out of the house in approximately, you looked at the digital clock on your nightstand, 30 minutes.

You needed something to make you feel confident; sexy; and unstoppable, something that would have Yoo—the city eating out the palm of your hands.

Suddenly the perfect outfit came to mind.

[9:30pm - You] Is this like a hip hop night club or an actual get dressed night club?

[9:31pm - JM] Please tell me you’re already dressed.

[9:32pm - You] I’m basically almost done.

You stared at your lace black undergarments in the mirror.

[9:32pm - You] How far are you though?

[9:33pm - JM] Not far at all. Hurry up!

He attached a picture of the entrance to your building.

Oh shit, you hurried to finished getting dressed.

“You look great ma’am. Have a great night,” The door man nodded in your direction holding the glass door open for you—you shot him a soft smile thanking him and wishing him a good night.

Yoongi’s car sat by the curb as your best friends and an unwanted demon waited for your arrival. Jimin rolled the passenger window down, “I was going to talk shit for making us wait here for like 20 minutes but you look way too fucking good bitch.”

“Thank you, thank you. Your compliments only feed my ego. I hope you’re aware,” You began posing on the sidewalk as Jimin began flashing pictures if you.

“That’s my best friend. She’s a real bad bitch,” he screamed out, calling on the attention of everyone around you. There was a tinge of bashfulness taking over you as the eyes of those settling on the sidewalk were set on you.

“Can you get in the fucking car already?” Yoongi said from behind the wheel.

“Fine.”

Not fine. Of course, you were stalling but only because you knew who would occupy the seat beside you for the 15 minute car ride ahead. And 15 minutes next to Yoojin would be like an eternity in hell. . But you could only stand outside your best friend's vehicle for so long without raising eyebrows or questions being formed about your hesitation to sit next to him.

While Yoongi knew of your mostly hate relationship with his brother. He didn’t know what caused it and you intended to keep that a secret for as long as you could. Before you could reach for the handle, the door was being opened for you from the inside and suddenly there you were, face to face with the man you’ve convinced yourself to be your least favorite Min. His eyes ogled you as you got in the car as strategically as you could without flashing anyone, of course, you settled for the black off the shoulder long sleeve corset dress with crystal trim or the shortest dress in your closet. His intense gaze remained on your figure as you took a seat beside him after slamming the door shut, but his eyes were so fucking hard to read, so dark they mimicked the expansive late night sky. Those were the eyes you thought you knew once upon a time but now they were estranged and knowing Yoojin presently; you figured he was probably mocking you and likely thinking of about a dozen snarky comments he’d make to make you feel like a fool and ruin your night but you wouldn’t let him win this time, or ever.

You had to be nice to him while your parents were around any other time was free territory.

The car ride remained silent aside from the low music being emitted from the radio, of course, they played the same generic crap that looped on continuously all day long so not even that could stop your thoughts from drifting to the man who sat just a couple feet away from you.

You wanted to say so much but instead you bottled it all up and stored it all away under lock and key in the deepest depths of your heart. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he occupied your thoughts on a daily basis.

Jimin cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable by the silence that has taken reign in the last 5 minutes of all of you being in the car together, “have any of you been to this club before?”

Yoongi shook his head, “I’ve been in New York for the last few years.”

New York. . Nice.

The three of them looked at you but you were stuck in your own thoughts as you swirled around the whirlwind gusts of the tornado wrecking havoc in your mind.

“What?”

“Have you gone to Fuego before?”

“No,” you answered. “This is my first time.”

Once again silence fell amongst the four and there was a wave of awkwardness washing over you as you remained hyper focused on looking out the window—enjoying the vibrancy of the city under the grace of the stars.

“Yoojin,” Jimin spoke once again, silence was not in his nature as he flourished in his true social flower nature, “How was New York?”

“Loud.” He was notorious for his one word fucking answer—another thing you despised about him.

“So I guess the city truly never sleeps.”.

“Unfortunately, but I have good memories as well so it wasn’t all negative.”

“Was there a lucky lady?”

“Ah—” you could feel his stare on you. Perhaps, he was trying to figure out what your body language displayed, but you ignored him and slaughtered those butterflies flapping their wings at the lining of your stomach. Your gaze was set intensely on whoever or whatever you could spot through the car window. You knew Yoojin was simply trying to structure the right words to cause a reaction out of you.

“There were a couple.”

A couple? You felt a jab land at your stomach vacuuming the air right out of your lungs in the process. You were hurt, and you were beaten but most of all you hated how much you felt for someone who wasn’t even yours. Someone who doesn’t deserve you.

The gates of Fuego were seemingly the pearly white gates to your safe haven; the only offset was the man still sitting right beside you. But it was within your full intentions to stay as far away from Yoojin as you could and by far, you meant far. . far. . far away.

Yoongi turned off the engine as he pulled into the parking spot—you were ready to jump out of the vehicle, ready to lose yourself in your last night of “singleness.”

The soft utterance of his vibrato voice rang through the tight space of the car, “We’ll catch up in a minute.” Yoojin was demanding, authoritative, and quite invasive. As much as you wanted to rebel against him your body was non compliant and you became enchanted by the spell he cast upon you.

Yoongi looked in your direction and you nodded, signaling that it was OK, “we’ll go ahead and make the entrance line. Don’t take too long.” He opened the door, “And no fighting or I’ll just call the cops on you two.”

You were both now alone in the car.

The air became stuffy, restricting your airway and you weren’t quite sure if it was due to all of the car doors and windows being shut tight or if it was due to the fact that you were alone with Yoojin for the first time in years.

“I know my arrival was unexpected. Especially, to you,” he spoke, scratching the back of his neck, “but I was hoping we could talk”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” you hissed.

“There’s plenty to discuss,”

“There was plenty to discuss before you left Yoojin,” you shrugged, “but that expired long ago.”

He shook his head, “I wasn’t aware things like this had an expiration date.”

“Everything has an expiration date.”

“If only I would’ve been made aware.”

You had not gotten the chance to see how truly captivating Yoojin looked tonight. The buiguilding charm he exuded was venomous and simply looking in his direction had you under his fangs.

“I don’t think knowing would have mattered much to you,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “being in New York with all those girls and all.”

“Are you jealous?” he snickered.

It was so fucking hot, your body felt overheated. You were sweating from every single inch of you body. w

“Don’t flatter yourself,” there was a scornful derivative in your intonation, “you were the last thing I thought about.”

“Face it, you missed me.”

Those words took you back to the wretched dream you had the other night, remembering the way he spoke softly into your ear, the way his lips serenaded your neck, the way his fingertips felt as soft as the fluffiest of clouds against your skin.

“I-I did not,” you stuttered.

“Admit it.”

“No, you know what I have to admit though,” you began deflecting, just mention something you hate about him, “I hate this fucking act you adopt. You’re a fucking asshole, stomping over me without much thought when others are around, but as soon as we’re alone you pretend to care.”

You recalled how he used to be, the Yoojin from before the storm. The Yoojin who understood you, showered you with care and love, the Yoojin who was communicative and expressive. The Yoojin your heart longed for in the loneliest of nights for the past five years.

“Listen,” his eyes were finally expressive, they were kinder, the dark tone in his pupils was comforting. There was solace behind them, they felt like a warm blanket but was the opposite of what you needed as the temperature continued to rise in the enclosed car, “I’m here now. I’m back.”

You wanted to believe him, but you knew it was bullshit.

“I don’t care Min. Tonight we’re celebrating Jimin. Tomorrow we begin our little charade which I hope you know I only agreed to for Yoongi.”

“For Yoongi?”

“For Yoongi.” You confirmed.

“So you don’t miss. . .” His words drifted off leaving his implications for you to interpret and you knew exactly what he meant.

You did, but there was no admitting it to Yoojin—a deep silence fell through and the only noise your ears picked up came from the quickened thumping of your heart clashing on the walls of your chest, it terrified you that he could possibly hear.

“There was nothing to miss.”

He huffed, “Alright.”

“I’m glad we got this conversation out of the way. See you inside,” you excited the car, slamming the door behind you.

-

-

-

author’s note: it took me longer than expected to write this (I deleted 3 different drafts 🙂) so hopefully this first chapter isn’t too bad, also this is unedited so hopefully everything makes sense.

thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think <3

#bts #bts fic #bts reactions #bts imagines #min yoongi #suga #agust d #suga angst #suga smut #suga x you #suga x y/n #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #mentions of: park jimin and choi soobin #bangtan sonyeondan #bts smut #bts angst #yoongi angst

[bluekittyworld]

There is Karma [Chapter 3]

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated!

Warning: smut 18+

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4

You rushed home, did your makeup again, just simple foundation, lipstick and eyeliner, you let your hair down it naturally had soft curls. You wondered would a dress be better or trousers? After trying about twenty outfits and making a pile of clothes on the floor by your cupboard,  you finally decided on wearing black lose fitted trousers and a green shirt with gold buttons, and for accessories you worse gold earring. Taking your black shoulder bag and ensuring you have your card, car guys and phone, you headed towards your car, it was 6:30pm on the dot, the GPS showed it takes 25 minutes to reach Yoongi’s address, everything was within time, you let out a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. It was nerve wrecking and exciting at the same time.

You arrived to the address, you were expecting apartments, but instead you saw a lovely mansion, it was huge with automatic gates, you were at the gates, before you even rolled down your window to press the intercom, the gates automatically opened, that meant he was watching you on the cctv, you smiled, this man was truly a gentleman, taking care of the smallest details to make the other person comfortable as possible.

You parked your car by the extravagant fountain and walked to the front door, Yoongi was already there leaning by the door frame. He was wearing black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, hair tousled some of it over his eyes, his cherry lips smiling at you. You smiled back, was he always this handsome? 

“Hi” you waved.

“Hey _____”

Your name on his lips sounded so sexy.

Yoongi motioned you to come in shutting the door behind, everything in his house screamed luxury, from the marble floors to the designer sofas. Yoongi wasn’t a minimalist or a maximalist, everything was just right, you noticed he used the colour scheme of green and black throughout his house, it was pretty and coincidentally matching your outfit. You smiled that you ended up wearing his favourite colours.

“So _____, how was your day?” he asked, pulling out a chair for you to sit in his kitchen.

“Stressful, my brother dumped a lot of work on me.” You pouted.

Yoongi chuckled and winked “Hopefully the coffee tasting can take your tiredness away.”

You smiled back, he was making butterflies wild in your tummy.

The evening was going great, Yoongi made you taste a total of seven different coffee blend with toffee syrup, and you both came down to a single blend, Yoongi decided to sell that blend for his winter special across his cafes. You were glad you could help and it felt really nice bonding with him. Soon it was 10:30pm, time flew with Yoongi, you had work the following morning, you should go back home, but another 30 minutes with Yoongi won’t be too bad right? When will you get another chance to be here giggling with him… so you decided to stay till 11pm. 

Yoongi was visibly a lot more comfortable around you now, you noticed how his eyes almost disappeared when he was laughing, how his hair moved around, how beautiful his hands are, how milky white and clear his skin is. Most of all how melodic his voice is, so masculine and deep, you wish you could fall asleep to his voice. You were looking at him, you hadn’t noticed how close he had come to you, maybe noticed your attraction to him too? He tucked your hair behind your ear, as he was about to retreat his hand, you placed yours over his, keeping his hand on your cheek.

“Yoongi?” you whispered.

“Mhm?” he looked deep into your eyes.

“I like you” you confessed.

He didn’t react at all, he was just stood there, not a single muscle moved, you somewhat felt stupid for saying that to him, clearly you were imagining things and Yoongi didn’t feel the same way about you, you felt embarrassed to the core, you got off the high stool chair to excuse yourself, tears burning your eyes threatening to fall. Just then Yoongi gently pushed your back into the kitchen worktop, trapping you between it and himself, he cupped your face and brought his lips as close as possible to yours but not touching them.

“May I?” he whispered.

His minty warm breath intoxicating you, you nodded, and he didn’t waste a second you seal your lips with his. He tasted like vanilla and coffee, you closed your eyes and indulged in the feeling, it was perfect, you wished time had stopped here. He let go when you were out of breath, you opened your eyes and looked up to him, he was smiling, and his eyes were full of lust. Yoongi moved back, he didn’t do more, you wished he had though, he didn’t look you back at you again.

“I’ll see you again sometime soon.” He said in a monotone voice with his back towards you.

You were hurt, you’re sure he enjoyed that too but why was he acting this way?

You just nodded and left, you’re not sure if he even saw your nod, you didn’t want to speak you knew your voice would crack. Leaving his house and sitting in your car you let your tears fall, why was he behaving this way? The whole night in your bed the same question ran through your mind, you checked your phone multiple times to see if he messaged you, but the notifications stayed empty, you don’t know when you fell asleep.

A few days had passed, and you did find out, it was true your father was in talks of setting your future with Park Jimin. The Park Jimin known to be a womanizer, born with a golden spoon but zero manners. You tried to negotiate with your father you didn’t want a future with Jimin, but your father thought he gave you a life of luxury, so he was allowed to make such decisions for you.

You were depressed, everything was not going your way, Yoongi ignored you like you never existed, this Park Jimin arranged marriage thing was annoying you, workload was too much that every day you spent extra hours in the office. It was finally Saturday and you decided to do nothing today other than lay in bed and watch drams, you were watching The Legend of the Blue Sea when your phone rang, you decided to ignore it not even checking the screen, somebody from work is probably calling. After finishing your episode and not feeling like watching the next one, you decided to check your phone, there were a couple of calls from Yoongi, and like 20 messages from him. You were shocked, you immediately rang back, before checking the messages.

“Hello?” you said.

In a response you heard a sneeze from Yoongi.

“I’m outside your house please open the door, your doorbell isn’t working or something?” he said sniffling, you checked outside and it was raining, had he been waiting in the rain all this time…

You ran downstairs, still in your pyjamas and opened the door, there you saw a soaked Yoongi. You moved aside to let him step in, it was all too shocking why was he here and why was he waiting for so long…?

“Yoongi, why are you here?” you asked.

“______, I’m sorry” he said as he handed you a bouquet of wet flowers.

You were confused and surprised, “I thought…”

Yoongi silenced you with a kiss, “I said I’m sorry, I just needed time to arrange my feelings for you”

His clothes were dripping, you placed the bouquet on your dining table and rushed to get him a towel. He was grateful, you eyed him and asked, “Why didn’t you wait in your car or something?”

 “I took a taxi to the shops then walked it here, it wasn’t supposed to rain today” he sneezed, making you smile a little.

“Come upstairs and wash up in hot water while I get some clothes for you” you suggested.

He nodded and followed you. After getting changed and dried, he came downstairs, you prepared some hot soup for the both of you. All your anger towards him dissipated seeing him in your oversized clothes, they fitted him perfectly, his semi-dry black locks framed his face, that damn smile melted your heart each time. 

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you, I just… I have feelings for you and I was a little scared...” Yoongi spoke up.

You smiled, this big grown man was shy from you, instead of responding with words you softly kissed his lips, you felt him smile into the kiss, he placed a hand on the small of your back, pulling you in closer, he smelt of your shampoo and his natural musk, driving you insane.

After eating and spending some time talking, Yoongi asked you “_____ will you be mine?” You nodded eagerly, this beautiful man was now yours and you were his, you jumped into his embrace, this Saturday could not be better.

It was your 1-month anniversary, you had invited Yoongi to your house to celebrate, he found it amusing how you wanted to celebrate each month of being together. You prepared a range of food, including his favourite dishes, and bought a beautiful cake for dessert. You put on your favourite bodycon long sleeve black dress with matching red lingerie underneath, yes you had other ideas in your head, Yoongi hadn’t made any advances other than passionate kissing.

Soon he arrived, he was surprised to see the candlelit dining room.

He covered your eyes brought you towards the mirror, he opened a box from what you could hear, and cold metal draped around your neck, you opened your eyes to see a diamond serpent necklace adorning your neck, he smiled at you in the reflection.

“Hope you like it” he said as he handed you the box.

You loved it, it was like a metal snake around your neck and when you looked down at the box, it said BVLGARI, this man really didn’t care about how much spent on you.

“Thank you, Yoongi” you tiptoed and kissed his cheek.

He smiled back at you as he sat down at your dining table.

“Yoongi?” you asked.

He looked up from his food towards you and smiled, he relished in the dishes you cooked for him, he genuinely enjoyed your cooking.

“Please stay the night” you whispered.

He nodded; you felt a sense of satisfaction.

The evening turned into the night as you both laughed over the most random topics, you often caught Yoongi looking at you with sadness in his eyes, you ignored the uneasy feeling.

As the clock hit midnight, you took his hand and took him to your bedroom, pushing him on your bed and kissing him with passion, he held your back with one hand and the other behind your head pushing you more into himself.

“_____” he whispered.

“Mhm?” You asked.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked your permission, trying to hold himself back.

“I do” you smiled and took his lips back between yours nibbling on his lower lip, making him moan.

Yoongi’s hands were tender as he unzipped your dress and took it off every so gently making sure not to damage it in the process. He licked his lips when he saw what you were wearing under it, his eyes becoming more lustful, the way the red lace contrasted your skin was beautiful. Yoongi laid you on your back and took his time to appreciate your body, his lips hovered over your clothed breast and left many kisses before he slipped a hand behind your back and skilfully unbuckled your bra. He didn’t even bother to take it off, he slipped it a little lower freeing your breasts, as he took one nipple in his mouth and the other between his hand. The way he moved his tongue and bit down made you moan his name over and over. Slowly he moved his way down onto your tummy leaving butterfly kisses all over as he reached the band of your panties.

He slowly removed them carefully as he caressed your thighs and kissed them. He then proceeded to kiss your pussy, your breath hitched at this action of his and it certainly didn’t go unnoticed by him, he smirked and moved back up. He looked down at you and removed his t-shirt and joggers, taking one of your hands and placing it on his abs encouraging you to touch him, you enjoyed this feeling. 

Yoongi had removed your bra completely at this point, he had one hand on your boob, the other between your hair as he kissed you passionately. He grinded his clothed dick over your naked pussy, making you moan multiple times into the kiss. He was gentle with each move, taking care of you and making your pleasure his top priority. You wanted to feel more, you pushed your hip upwards earning a chuckle from Yoongi. He took off his boxers, giving you what you wanted.

“Please Yoongi” you looked up into his eyes, he nodded.

He took hold of his dick and slipped the tip between your folds, sliding it up and down, driving you insane, then without warning he slipped right in as deep as he could. You screamed his name in pleasure, it felt so good to be so full, you quickly adjusted to his size. He had the perfect length and girth, he was fast, with each push he watched your boobs bounce and he loved the sight, he really was a boob guy. He held onto your hips tightly as he went harder and faster, you were so close, he knew this how your walls were squeezing down on him making it harder for him to push in and out.

“Do it” he demanded, and that’s all it took you as you came all over his dick, he kept going at the same speed, enjoying looking at you become overstimulated, he took one hand off your hip and his thumb started circling your clit, that brought you to another high.

“Together?” he said, and you nodded.

“3… 2… 1 Now” he counted, and you both came together, you could feel his warmth fill you like a tsunami, you milked him as much a you could until he became limp. He stayed inside you for a little bit as he moved the hair stuck to your face because of your sweat, and he kissed you tenderly. He pulled out earning a small whine from you, he just smiled back and fell beside you, taking you into his embrace, stroking your hair slowly.

“_____” Yoongi looked deep into your eyes “I love you” he whispered.

In return you cuddled him even tighter and put your leg over him, he pulled the blanket over you both and soon you were snoring lightly in his arms, he pulled you closer to his chest and kissed your forehead.

The following morning you woke up to an empty bed, the clothes Yoongi had borrowed from you were folded and put neatly next your clothes from last night. You put on a robe and looked around your house but there was no sign of him, maybe he had to leave for work or something, but it was Sunday morning, what could have been so important. You searched for any note he could have left but there was nothing, you checked your phone but no messages from Yoongi. You decided to message him:

Morning handsome, is everything okay?

Hours had passed but you didn’t receive a reply, the message was still on a single tick, the tick didn’t turn into a double tick, maybe he didn’t have internet you thought to yourself. You tried your best to go on about the day without worrying too much about Yoongi. It was the late afternoon, you were sat on your sofa touching the serpent necklace around your neck, not paying attention to what was playing on the TV. You were missing Yoongi, you were worried about his safety, so you just decided to call him, instead of the ringing sound you heard:

Sorry the person you are trying to reach is not currently able to accept calls.

This made you more stressed, you hoped everything was okay with Yoongi. You wanted to turn up to his house, but was that a good idea? If by 7pm he didn’t respond, then you will go to his house you thought to yourself.

7pm turned into 7:30pm, your hundreds of calls went straight to voicemail, you decided to turn up to his house.

The gates were open this time, you drove straight past them, the house was decorated with lights outside and you realised there was an outdoor party going on in his house. As far as you knew he lived by himself and not with his parents, you let out a breath of relief that Yoongi is probably safe. You weren’t exactly dressed in party clothes, you had casual trousers and shirt on, you decided to walk into the party, seeing many people around laughing and talking amongst each other. That’s when you saw Yoongi’s side, he was smiling and talking with a girl who was probably younger than you by the looks of it and more petite and feminine. As you observed he put his arm around her, a pang of jealousy hit you, you took a step forward and in that much time, Yoongi placed his lips on hers, you froze in your spot. Yoongi recognised you standing there as he kept on kissing the girl, he looked straight into your eyes, your own eyes starting to tear up. You turned around and made your way to your car, second time you’re at his house and again you’re returning in tears.

Chapter 4

#yoongi #suga #agust d #bts #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #suga fluff #suga smut #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #suga angst #yoongi fluff #suga fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #rm #jin #jhope #jimin #taehyung #jungkook

[dollfaceksj]

wait i have a question , does cal yoongi have a daddy kink??? 😮‍💨😮‍💨

i’m glad u asked 😴

and remember: if you’re not getting tagged despite signing up to the taglist, it’s because in your settings the ‘allow search engines to find me’ option is disabled which makes me unable to tag you.

can’t afford love | myg (m) #7

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is this even a good idea?

well..

either way

you want this

and you’re ovulating!

it’s not your fault you’re this horny!!

even just his presence is making you want to pounce him

and now with you bent over the table

surrounded by dirty dishes

his groin pressed straight into your ass

you can’t think straight

he’s right

you can still have fun and enjoy as you’re trying for a baby

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when your robe is hiked up to your waist and your entire lower body is naked and exposed

you feel

extremely insecure

doing this in a not-so-dark room

but at least you’re bent over and he can’t see much anyways

his hands knead your hips and asscheeks under his palms, your breath becoming ragged

he runs a finger up your slit, a sudden grunt leaving his lips at the touch makes you glance over your shoulder

“now this,” he starts, “is what i’m talking about.” he brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks your slick off. “maybe i should be a bit rougher on you since you’ve always liked that a lot more.”

you angrily grunt. you turn your head again, pressing your cheek against the surface of the table. “shut up.”

the loud crack of your ass getting slapped rings in your ears and the heat spreads through your skin

“always got something to say, huh?”

hmmm

you do

you literally do

but…

“you like it, though,” you remark, trying to stifle a smirk

“hm,” he hums as he massages your asscheeks. “i do, don’t i?”

there’s a certain tone in his voice that you can’t quite put your finger on

you glance at him again and he’s staring straight at you. “i suppose i never liked the easy way,” he says and you’re not even really sure what he means by that

is he talking about you?

how you’ve just

never been an easy person?

…

well in all seriousness

you weren’t

and you will never be

you’re of the opinion that things should be earned

you say as you’re preparing ready to get rawdogged by your exhusband

he runs a hand up your spine which causes you to shiver

pathetic.

“i still love looking at you from this position, you know,” he starts and the ruffling of him pulling his sweats down doesn’t go unnoticed by you

“yeah? why’s that?”

“feel like i can do whatever i want to you and you’ll let me cause you enjoy it too.”

what the hell….

he’s SICK

“what does that even mea–”

SMACK.

“ow!” you screech but somewhere it sounds like a moan. a screechy moan if you will.

“see?” he chuckles and reaches for your wrists to pin them into your lower back with one hand whilst he tugs his boxers down with his free hand. “you like it. i also know it’s your favorite position and don’t tell me it’s not because we both know it is.”

you merely huff in response. “so? it’s yours too.”

he hums quietly.

“no, it’s not.” his free hand wraps around his shaft and he uses it to tease your wet slit

you close your eyes to concentrate and prepare but you can’t help but wonder what he’s on about..

“i fucked you from behind often because i knew you liked it. i like it too but it’s not my favorite.”

huh???

you were so sure it was

just because it was usually your go-to position whenever you had sex with each other

and you know he absolutely loves your ass and hips so you’re not sure where this is coming from now

you quietly ask, “then what is?”

he stays quiet for a few moments

“missionary.” he starts pushing into you which makes your mind go blank

you can’t even bring yourself to ask why but he lets you know nonetheless

“watching your face when you’re getting fucked is my favorite thing in the world.” he bottoms out, pelvis pushed straight into your asscheeks

your face?

he loves watching your face?

“the way your brows furrow and the way your mouth falls open. the way you struggle to keep your eyes open but do it to hold onto eye contact. it makes you look dizzy.” he simply chuckles and then slowly starts thrusting into you. “drives me fucking insane.”

…

why would he say this now

he used to say he just loved fucking you

no matter how he could have you he’d have you like that

why is he going into detail now??

he knows all the things you like

is it genuinely bc he just wanted to do all of your favorite things?

you do remember how much he loved kissing you in missionary

and you loved it just as much

especially when he did as he came inside. it genuinely made you think that giving birth to a whole sports team was worth it in that moment

(until the post nut clarity hit of course)

he keeps thrusting, dick rubbing your walls so fucking good that it makes your knees buckle

but he’s so close to your body and he’s still pinning your wrists against your lower back which causes you to stay pinned to the table whether your legs give out or not

“wha… what else do you like?” you manage to get out without sounding overly sexual

“hm,” he hums as he rubs your asscheek with his other hand. “i was never big on the daddy thing but hearing you on the phone earlier–”

“i am not calling you daddy.”

he laughs in response at how quickly you declined

“i don’t know, babe. you’re making a mess on the floor. i think you like that idea, if anything.”

fuck

you don’t know whether he’s lying or not

and with your hands restrained

hips caged in between his own and the edge of the table

you grunt in response

not much else you can do

and in the corner of your eyes you can see him licking at his thumb before bringing it to your asshole

rubbing the rim

you mewl quietly. he rubs all over your puckered hole, something he knows you used to enjoy

“fuck,” you mumble as his thrust pick up in pace, hips slamming into your asscheeks and recoiling against his skin

“i need to look at your face when you cum,” he whispers as he begins to slow down until he fully pulls out

he pulls you off the table by your biceps and turns you around in one swift motion, pushing you back onto the table and instantly spreading your thighs for him

you barely have the time to register what’s happening when he grabs ahold of his shaft and guides it back into your pussy

he slides in so effortlessly, proving your arousal

and if that wasn’t enough proof, the loud squelching sounds should be

he starts thrusting into you again, eyes staring down at you with such intensity that it makes you feel like you’re being stared down by a starved lion

he holds your thighs apart with his hands, hooked under the back of your knees as he snaps his hips into you

you can’t help but moan as you stare back, mouth falling open and brows furrowing together

exactly the way he likes it

he knows you do that once he speeds up and slams his hips into yours like he’s got something to prove to you

“rub that clit for me, y/n.”

FUCKKKKK

you could cum simply from hearing him say that

you mewl as you reach between your bodies and allow your hand to make it’s way down to your clit, the stickiness instantly coating your fingers as you start rubbing yourself

“how does it feel?” he asks, hairs sticking to his forehead because of the sweat that started forming there

you let out a sob that you hope is enough of an answer about how fucking good you’re feeling right now

unfortunately he shakes his head

“use your words, sugar.”

fuck fuckfuckfurkcudkcud

sugar

sugar.

it used to be his go-to nickname for you

:))

..

:(

and him saying it right now is both orgasm-inducing

yet bittersweet

it almost makes you stumble over your words

said you looked cold on the outside yet tasted and smelled so damn sweet

and he liked the irony

because your personality was the opposite of sweet

you suppose he was right.

“feels… feels so good,” you sniff, bringing your fingers up to your mouth, licking your own arousal off it whilst keeping eye contact with him

his eyes momentarily drop to your lips as he watched you wet your fingers with your saliva before you dive back to rub at your clit

he nods as he makes eye contact with you again

but his eyes are starting to occasionally drop down to your lips

and it’s getting harder and harder not to kiss him

maybe just once–

“cum on my dick, dizzy.”

oh

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

you don’t need much more

a few more circular motions on your clit and the consistent pounding of his hips, tip of his dick kissing your cervix repeatedly has you coming undone

your body shakes as your hands come up to squeeze at his biceps and chest, incoherent words and sentences falling from your lips in cries and ragged breaths

he simply nods as he watches you. “i know, i know.”

your entire body shakes, pussy repeatedly clenching around his shaft which you know is pushing him to the edge as well

“fuck,” he whispers, one hand coming up to gently tug your robe off your shoulder, exposing your breast to him

kneads it

rolls your nipple in between his fingers

does it again after wetting the tips of his thumb and index finger

you sniff again, tears rolling down your cheeks from the amount of pleasure he’s giving you

you haven’t had an orgasm whilst getting fucked in so long

you’d almost forgotten how fucking insane it is

mindboggling

insanity-inducing

“fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he whispers as his hips start snapping into yours at a quicker pace, indicating he’s getting close too

you simply continue to watch him with the biggest doe eyes you can muster, bottom lip trapped between your teeth

fuck. FUCK

it’s not even healthy how badly you want him to cum inside

pump you full

mark his territory

remind you who you still belong to

what are you saying? snap out of it!

“i’m gonna,” he pauses, “cum.”

your hands dip down the back of his shoulders, one up the back of his neck and you do it to pull him closer

your eyes drop down to his lips before you say, “put that baby in me.”

you say it with such a tone in your voice and a look in your eyes that makes yoongi almost feral

his thrusting only gets rougher yet sloppier, inconsistent

until he completely unloads inside of you

with a few more thrusts, he comes to a halt, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath

and now

when everything is more clear

you almost want to scream at the top of your lungs

you know you should’ve never broken those rules

you know you wouldn’t be able to resists for much longer

why are you bummed that it’s already over for this weekend and probably until you’re ovulating again?

…

???

or maybe not even until then? it couldve already happened.

exactly what you wanted

a baby.

pregnancy.

it could have happened already.

🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

and it’s precisely why

you almost

asked him

to pull out.

to be continued.

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#clover’s drabble series: cal | myg #yoongi #min yoongi #suga #agust d #bts yoongi #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x oc #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x oc #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi fics #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #yoongi angst #bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts fic #minors dni #dollfaceksj #bts suga #suga x y/n #suga x reader #suga x you

[borahaerhy]

Regime (Teaser) | myg

Pairing: Ringleader!Yoongi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is dull. Your job, your hobbies, your downtime: everything is just dull. That is, until your workplace is raided by the anti-capitalist organization run by the notorious Agust D.

Series Warnings: anti-capitalism! mental illness, some gang violence, unaliving, smut, hella angst, drug/alcohol usage, very fowl language

Teaser Warnings: READER IS A BADASS, y/n uses all the self-defense, quite literally bites a chunk out of someone's hand, everyone has a gun, there are a few hostages, Yoongi kicks someone in the face, y/n very casually holds a gun to someone's head, refrences to y/n's childhood being... interesting (relatives' drug usage breifly mentioned)

Wordcount: 689

Note: I have no idea where this is gonna go, might just leave it at this, might make it a oneshot, might fuck around and make it a series I have no idea, lmk your thoughts though :)))

It was odd. 

The parking lot of your job being completely empty had only happened on one other occasion that you could recall; and that was because it was Easter, and everyone had gone home early. 

But today was different. It wasn’t a holiday, and there should have been plenty of work to get done; yet there was no one. Not a single car in the parking lot. As you drove past, you turned your attention to the side of the building, where the security parked. You pulled into the space beside the empty car of one of your coworkers, Nick. 

But it’s ten minutes until shift change; first shift should still be here. Did Nick let them leave early for some reason? Aside from yours and Nick's, there was only one other car in the entire lot. A black SUV parked haphazardly beside Nick's car; and it was still running.

While all of this might scream “danger” to others that would have seen it, to you, while it was weird, that's all it was: weird. It’s a relatively small company; one where there were so few employees that they were all friends. Everyone knew everyone and they often all liked to fuck with one another, maybe this was just some kind of prank. 

While the company was small, it was also one that had no problem fucking over it’s employees when it comes to their paychecks; even whenever the company execs wanted to come in and check the place out, they certainly never would’ve listened to any complaints about pay. 

You cautiously walked up to the door and punched in the pin before you opened the door and stepped in. As you closed the door behind you, you realized that you walked into something you definitely wished you hadn’t. 

Tied up in the middle of the floor was the supervisor for the building, Kevin, and the guy supposed to work your shift with you, Nick. They were completely surrounded by men in black, all with guns pointed at their heads. Kevin looked like he just got into a fight and lost; blood covering his face and his nose was crooked, while Nick had a swollen lip. In front of them there was just one man, but as soon as your eyes had adjusted to the dark building, all of them were looking at you. 

Seconds after you walked in, your arms were pinned behind your back and a hand covered your mouth. “Just make sure she doesn’t go anywhere for a second, I have to deal with this asshole before I talk to her,” 

While as a security officer, you hadn’t been trained in any kind of combat, you did grow up with uncles. A lot of them, and they would all get varying levels of high and various substances and decide that you needed to know how to defend yourself. 

So while the man that spoke, the one standing in front of Nick and Kevin, kicks Nick in the chin - no doubt knocking out a few of his teeth - you stamped down on the foot of the man behind you and bit a chunk of flesh from his hand clean off. He screamed, letting go of you so you could turn around and knee him in the groin as one of your hands took the gun out of his side holster and held it to his head. 

You stood beside him, facing the group of people with one hand holding the gun to his head while the other was up, level with your head to show you weren't armed more than what they could see. You spit out the chunk of flesh that you still had in your mouth, mostly for dramatic effect, and slowly moved your free hand down to wipe the blood from your lips. 

Everyone was staring at you, even the boss was staring at you with a kind of intensity that would’ve been hard for anyone to withstand. “You can finish whatever you were doing, I’m not going anywhere, I just don’t really like people touching me,”

#myg #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #agust d #bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #fic announcement #bts fic announcement #bts scenarios #bts writing #bts suga #bts yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi angst #bts mafia series #bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fanfiction #yoongi smut #bts smut #ringleader!yoongi #bangtan #d day #haegeum

[luvrsofbts]

I Do Love You

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: tiny angst, fluff, soft boyfie yoon :(

Summary: You doubt your relationship with Yoongi.

A/N: Late birthday post for this man <3

-

The clock strike 2 as you sat on the sofa of Yoongi’s house, mindlessly scrolling through social media. You had been waiting for your boyfriend to come home, which was what he said an hour ago, but it seems like that was all a lie.

Be home in an hour babe

Miss n love u more

Those were the last texts sent by Yoongi. Not knowing when he was actually going to come home, you decided to pay him a visit at his studio.

-

As you entered into your boyfriend’s studio, you were greeted with his back facing you. Headphones in and hands on the mouse and keyboard like every other time you would come here.

“Yoongi, it’s almost three in the morning, are you coming home yet?” You scolded, tapping him.

“Oh shit! Y/N, you scared me!” Yoongi jumped, bringing a hand to his chest as he tried to catch his breath. “What are you doing here, baby? I was just about to come home,”

“Yeah, right. You said that almost two hours ago, yet here you are,” You huffed, a frown on your face.

“I’m sorry- I guess I just got caught up, you know how I am,”

“Save it, Yoongi. You know, sometimes it feels like you care more about your job than you do me,”

“What are you talking about?” He questioned.

“This! I’m talking about this! I haven’t seen you in weeks because of our busy schedule, but I still made time today to see you and you knew that too!” You exclaimed, feeling angrier by the minute.

“I know that, but-,”

“Stop. Just stop,”

“Y/N, listen to me-,”

“Do you even love me anymore?” You asked timidly.

“Baby… how could you even ask that?” Yoongi looked at you with sad eyes.

You shrugged, getting teary eyed as you darted from your boyfriend’s face to the ground.

“I do love you, of course I love you!” He proclaimed, standing up and walking to you. “Shit, Y/N. I love you more than anything in this world,”

Taking you into his arms, you started crying silently.

“I’m sorry, I just missed you so much,” You muffled into his chest, squeezing onto him like he could easily slip away.

“My sweet princess, I missed you so much more,” Yoongi whispered into your hair. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I should be the one that’s sorry, I didn’t know you have been feeling this way,”

“It’s okay, I know how much you love music,”

“I do, but that shouldn’t make my girl doubt our relationship or especially my love for her,”

Hearing the reassurance from Yoongi definitely made you feel better.

“I’m your girl…” You stated shyly.

“Yes, my girl. My sweet, loving girl,” Your boyfriend chuckled, pulling away before smashing his lips onto yours.

You melted right into the kiss, kissing back passionately as you tried to pull Yoongi closer to you as if he wasn’t already.

“Let’s get home now, yeah?”

You nodded, Yoongi leaning in and stealing a few more kisses from you.

“If you ever feel like this again, talk to me, baby,” He consoled.

You nodded, “Okay, I will. I love you,”

“I love you. Forever,”

-

Another A/N: this was very short but I needed to write something bc I miss yoon so much 😭

#bts #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff #bts suga #bts yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts drabble #bangtan #agust d #bts army

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody does love | MYG

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

Genre - angst, established relationship AU

Word count - 3.2k

Warnings - none

Ratings - 13+

A/N - The Yoongi I had in mind while writing this. Feel free to imagine, and comment with reference to your own Yoongi vibe. Also, this is the first work I am uploading online. Please show some love and let me know if you want this to remain a one-shot, or become a series.

Series masterlist

“Every time I see you I feel more alone,” he said in a tone barely above a whisper, looking down at the coffee, his hands still clenched together over his lap. He tried to blink back the tears forming in his eyes and visibly sighed, eyes trained on the half-cup of iced Americano. He knew his resolve to not cry in front of you today would shatter if he looked up at you.

He thought you missed the solitary tear drop that escaped his restraints and hung at the tip of his nose before he casually wiped at it with the sweatshirt sleeve. You didn’t. Maintaining his slouch, he drew a sharp breath and looked around the cafe. A couple of more tables were occupied on the other side, the barista was cleaning up behind the counter, one of the waiters was at the billing machine, frowning down at it while probably trying to balance the account from the business day, and the other two were clearing off the empty tables and setting them up for a hassle-free open on the following day—Wednesday morning.

The Wednesday morning he has been dreading for almost two months now.

He averted your piercing gaze at his form and looked outside the cafe from his seat beside the window. The usually unfrequented alley was now almost deserted.

“Why do you always have to be so honest?” you managed to mutter, failing to mask the tremble in your voice.

“Because that is all I can ever be,” he shrugged. “Because that is all you ever wanted.” Your chest constricted at the sound of the chuckle that escaped him.

It is true. That was all you asked for. All you asked of him. Honesty. From the very beginning, that was your only condition, wish, and command. You sealed it in a drunken pinky promise which you took a selfie of as “evidence” so neither of you could walk back on it sober, or ever.

And you didn’t.

You were honest too. Too honest for your hearts to be as tender and bruised as they were in the present moment. Too honest to have put you through what you imagine hell would be. Too honest for “your own good” as your sister said.

Your fingers, freezing on a seemingly normal summer evening, were clutching around the cup of long-gone-cold latte in front of you. You had barely taken two sips of it. You wanted to reach out your hands and hold his. His hands were always warm. As were his feet.

Unlike yours. Every time you would cuddle, you would first grip his palm and cage in his feet with your cold ones, allowing physics to conduct its natural heat transference until equilibrium was achieved. He would shout at you in protest but made no physical efforts to move away. He would accuse of you being a cold-blooded cat, an anomaly of the biome, etc. All of which he would scream until he broke into a chuckle at how your breath tickled his neck.

But you did not reach out for his hand. You also made no attempts to wipe away the tears that were now free-falling across his cheeks. You most certainly did not honour his last statement with a reply. You could not. You did not know what to say. What should you say?

That you love him. That it broke your heart as much to leave. Hell, maybe even more since you were the one actually leaving. But didn’t say anything. You stared quietly at the man in front of you, while he stared out the window. His chin by now supported by one of his hands propped on the table by the elbow. His other hand still lay on his lap, fidgeting with the inseam of his jeans.

Maybe it is a good thing that you didn’t say those words out loud. Because if you did, it would only lead to another argument. Because he would fight to claim that no one was hurting more than he was. It was precisely because he was staying, that he would hurt more. Every day he would be reminded of you, in all the places you went and the things you used, and the people you would hang out with. He would argue to accomplish what he believed was the truth in this scenario. He was willing to take a chance and believe in you - the pair of you. And you were not. Simply because you were scared. You were scared and tried to hide it in a garb of logic and reality.

And he was right. All your purported rationale and logic. Tissues and smokescreens. Excuses. You knew that, didn’t you?

All the thoughts, feelings, uncried tears, and a genuine cough choked you up. You took a sip of your latte. And then another, and another, until you emptied the cup. A small burp escaped your lips.

For the first time in almost half an hour, he turned his face to directly look at you. It was a familiar enough sight. A latte moustache on your face and your hands reaching for napkins.

You had a frown all the while wiping your face until you looked up at him, as you felt his gaze after a long time that evening. Your frown smoothened and your raised brows settled. You removed the napkin from your mouth and cheekily broke into a faint grin.

You saw his puffy, red, wistful eyes crinkle as he mirrored your expression of amusement.

“Y/N-ah…” he groaned your name amid another wistful chuckle as he wiped his face, a little too forcibly, along his sweatshirt sleeves.

He looked up to see you now sporting a genuine smile. A faint one, but a smile. The smile he would miss so bloody much from tomorrow. He sniffled and tried to put on a smile himself, but it was harder than he thought it would be. His eyes shifted behind you looking at the penultimate customers leaving the cafe. He had not noticed when the student at the other table had left. Moving his eyes back to you, he caught your gaze and saw your smile fall.

For the nth time, he stared into your eyes and saw a similar hurt he was used to seeing in the mirror these past days. And for the nth time, he could not comprehend why you would leave things the way they were. If you were hurting even half of how much he was, he could not understand why you would not want to fix things.

Fix what? Was something broken? Other than your hearts, nothing.

“Yoong,” you called out to him.

He blinked a couple of times before nodding his head, to urge you to continue. Just as he heard his name heart started beating two times faster he was sure. He could feel it in his forehead and his ears now. That voice calling out to him, that intentional missing syllable in the end. That name in that voice in that exact manner was a thing he had come to treasure so much, he only understood how much once the frequency of it reduced over the past couple of months.

He is not sure he would have caught what you said until you tipped your head towards the counter. He turned his head first, his eyes following a beat later, which were trained on your mouth as if trying to read what words they formed. (That is the only reason he was staring at it)

He saw the staff, all leaning against the counter, some even with their aprons off, trying their best to appear engaged in a conversation amongst themselves but were throwing your table impatient glances.

Yoongi looked down at his watch. 22:10. 10 minutes past the cafe closing time. He hadn’t realised. Five hours flew by. And it wasn’t enough.

Of course, it wasn’t, no amount of time with you was enough. Forever would maybe come close, but not enough. At one point, the probability of a forever scared him and now, sitting defeated, dehydrated opposite the woman he loved, in their favourite cafe in Seoul, the implausibility of a forever nearly choked the life out of him.

He cannot be crying every two minutes. He reprimanded his tears internally and looked up at you, to see you getting ready to get up. Yoongi followed suit, and the tip of his ears and cheeks turned a shade darker from embarrassment than it was from the crying. Not only did all the crying clog his sinuses, but he also upheld some hard-working individuals hostage past their work hours.

As both of you got up, without a plan, almost instinctively, you bowed almost 90 degrees and muttered slightly different variations of “Thank you for your service.” The staff bowed back in earnest.

You pushed open the door and held it out for Yoongi too, a gesture very simple, very natural, but stood out now, as his back brushed lightly past your forearm. Through two jackets and two shirts, one slight brush caused the energy to cackle that you did not know was possible. You were insane, or at least getting close to being one.

You didn’t realise you were holding a breath until you let it out after Yoongi swiftly went past you, a little ahead of the entrance, and turned to see the dim lights of the cafe being turned off one by one.

Everything around him was like a mocking simile of how fast his life was going dark too. Maybe not actually, but it sure felt that way. Your proud and now hesitant frame against the cafe window lit only by the yellow streetlight two yards away.

You walked up to him on the pavement, well, not to him, roughly to where he was standing. To feign indifference at the proximity, one of Yoongi’s hands moved atop the small wooden signboard for the cafe set up on the walkway and started tugging at non-existent splinters.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw you take out your phone and take a photo of the cafe. What was visible of the cafe at least. With the lights all out, it was just another building. Unlike other places, it did not have a neon sign above either, for any discernable marks of what the photo is of.

That is why you first came to the cafe. How quaint, quiet and almost unrecognisable it was to outsiders. Most people either discovered it on a lucky day or were recommended by a friend. You found it on one of your early morning strolls during your second week in the city. And when you needed a quiet place outside of your homes and offices to hang out with Yoongi, you did not have to rake your brains.

You still followed the usual modicum of caution - masks, hats, non-descript clothing, driving your affordable, on-lease car instead of Yoongi’s fancy one. But still, inside the cafe was your safe haven. The first day you came in with Yoongi, you were quietly preparing for a paparazzi horde, a sasaeng attack, and an admonishment from his manager soon after. But nothing happened. The staff were nothing but polite and the most professional, and most of the other customers preferred to keep to themselves as well. How convenient. And how grateful you were for it.

You were sure the staff noticed the tension at your table today. But you also knew, regardless, they would never hurry you.

You loved the cafe and its aroma. They had the best freshly roasted coffee than any other place in town that you have been to. You loved their cinnamon rolls and blueberry pies. You loved the man beside you, whom you fell for over countless cups of coffee at this place, first in the guise of work and later on official dates.

You wanted that one last photo, the last thing to remember the place by, although you were certain you would never forget it. You couldn’t forget anything, anyone, any place concerning Min Yoongi. You have him memorised like the back of your hand. All of him, his memories, his scent, his voice, etched in your mind, forever. If you can’t have him forever, at least those memories are all yours to keep. Forever.

“I can take the metro back,” you turned to Yoongi as he spoke these words that pulled you out of a trance.

You started walking towards where you had parked your car. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, stuffing your phone in your pocket and looking for your keys.

Yoongi had both his hands in his pocket as he followed you. “It is no problem really. I can walk the rest of the way, it will clear my mind.” He meant what he said. Sitting next to you in a cramped space for even the 20 minutes it would take to get to his house, seemed like a bad idea. What if he cried again? He would definitely ache to reach out and hold your hand. He was already aching to hold your hand, which had by now found the keys.

You would have given his statement a thought or two if his words were not so clearly punctuated by sniffles that he tried to cover up by clearing his throat each time, almost comically. You needed him home with access to blankets and warm water/ soup/ tea and the like. In your experience what followed a crying bout for Yoongi was blocked sinuses and a warm temperature. Nothing to be too concerned about, physically. Just enough that a blanket and some warm soup can take care of. Over the past year or so, he had also preferred your presence beside his feverish body and your fingers threading through his hair, lulling him to sleep.

Since that last option was far beyond a possibility now, you had placed an order for mandu-guk at his address by the time you got to the car. He would be functional enough to pull blankets over himself, you thought. You would be wrong. Since as soon as he received the delivery, he would sit and be a wailing mess on the floor beside his kitchen island, as Holly tried to soothe him by lapping up his tears, and Scar and Tony, the two cats would stare at their human with more judgement than wonder.

You couldn’t foresee the future. So you unlocked your car, turned around, and said, “I am driving you home Yoongi. You can go for a walk from there.”

It wasn’t rude, but stern, definite. It was you. Yoongi almost cracked a fond smile. Sitting next to you in a cramped space for the next 20 minutes would be the last he saw of you. The realisation knocked some air out of him but he held the passenger side door of your car, wiping his thumb up and down the cold steel, wishing on the stars that he was holding your face instead. He simply nodded before he got in the car.

You wished you had not noticed his wistful glance, yet again, but you did, and the knot in your chest grew tighter. As if your heart was a sponge and some unknown force was squeezing the blood out of it.

The 20 minutes passed in two and you were parked outside Yoongi’s posh Hannam-dong residence. The quaint, summer breeze had never seemed so loud before. Your knuckles grew pale over the steering wheel because of how tight you were holding it. Yoongi noticed it. His own palms were clammy and he kept rubbing them on his jeans. You noticed it.

At this point, you could probably even hear each other’s heartbeat, or maybe, it was your own beating in your ears. But neither of you moved, nor breathed since you turned off the ignition of the car. The tension could be carved. Pin drops could be amplified.

“Are you finished packing?” Yoongi asked, his voice a little hoarse, looking straight ahead at his apartment gate.

A benign question. A generic one even. Something people ask anyone who is travelling the next day.

But it seems that was your Achilles heels. That one simple question reverberated in your system and almost dropkicked all semblance of resolve out of you. A tear escaped your squinting eyes. You turned away from him and shook your head, clearing your throat in the process to say, “A bit of last-minute packing still left.”

Lies. You had a majority of packing left. Your sister would freak out if she video-called you tonight. There is no way you will make an 11 am flight the next morning with how things were right now, she would say. You trusted your last-minute-panic guardian angel that has guarded your ass against the procrastination goblin all your life. Only this time it wasn't the goblin. It was the heartbreak elf. Almost everything you touched, anywhere you looked, memories flooded your system, causing you to break down and take a nap instead. The five days you had allotted for packing went mostly with crying, reminiscing, a fair amount of alcohol, a bit of… grass, and a lot of regrets.

So much regret. You were terrified to face up to them. Your chain of thoughts broke with the sound of a sharp breath intake from beside you. It sounded pained, you instinctively reached your hand out to soothe Yoongi’s back and realised too late to draw your hand back, so you decided to rest it against the back of the passenger’s seat. This, in reality, changed your position, angling your body towards Yoongi, your knees almost touching his thigh.

All Yoongi wanted was to pull you in for a hug and bury his face in the crook of your neck. He would walk back on all the fights and take back all the witty things he said at times you needed only comfort. He would eat so many of his words if he could if that would keep you from leaving forever. But he can’t, not anymore.

He unbuckled his seat belt and mumbled, “Right, this is it then.”

“Goodnight Yoongi. Take care and take it slow sometimes,” you croaked out, looking at him.

He will not look. He WILL NOT look.

He turned to look at your face, tears rolling down your cheek. Yoongi had to get away, or else he would implode. He nodded, with more force than required, biting down on his lower lip to hold in a sob, and got out of the car. He did not turn back till he was out of earshot from you, inside his apartment complex, behind the big iron gate.

He could still see the dark grey of your car through the designs.

Please don’t go. Please don’t go. Please don’t go.

He waited, just as you did. But you did not know that Min Yoongi stood on the other side of the big, fancy iron gate, holding his heart in his hand, praying to the Gods he doesn’t believe in, for one miracle.

Taglist: @starlighttaek8

#min yoongi #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #min yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #bts au #min yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #bts suga #suga #suga x reader #yoongi #min suga #agust d #dday #yoongi angst

[kk-k-kk]

GODLESS (teaser)

18+

trigger warnings: narcotics, abusive language, gore, harassment, fights, weapons, sex.

Summary: The thriving streets with booming businesses have come to a stand still. Curfews and police raids every few hours to seize any whiff of narcotics terrorised every person, regardless of involvement. The Upper Side lies unfaltering in their picket fences. In this induced borderline dystopia, in your cardboard box apartment you have found a strange joy in watching the actions of a tangerine-stealing thug.

Pairing: min yoongi x f!reader

what to expect? thug!yoongi, unemployed!reader, accomplice!rest of bangtan, warnings with the main story.

a/n: this is so fun

READ HERE

soon ;)

#bts army #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #min yoongi #agust d #yoongi #yoongi ff #agust d ff #yoongi fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #bts