#agust d x oc

[chaoticpuff17]

Amygdala

Masterlist

chapter 12

Yoongi awoke to a sharp elbow jabbed harshly into the flesh of his stomach. 

With a groan he turned over, releasing Margot from his grip and allowing her to scramble away from him. It was only when he heard the thump against the floor followed by a sharp yelp that Yoongi fully opened his eyes. 

A quick glance at the clock on his nightstand told him it was only four in the morning, too early to be dealing with any antics. 

“Jagi,” he groaned, rolling over to look at Margot who was half tangled in the blankets still and sprawled rather uncomfortably on the floor of his bedroom. “It’s too early for this.” 

“Fuck you.” She groaned in turn, not making any move to get up off the floor, still a little winded from her unexpected tumble off the bed. 

With a tired sigh, Yoongi pushed himself up off the bed. “Are you coming back to bed or are you staying on the floor?” he asked, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

“I think I’ll stay on the floor!” she declared breezily. “It’s quite comfortable down here.” 

Yoongi hummed, throwing his feet over the side of the bed, standing so that he could lean down and scoop her up blankets and all. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” she shrieked, grabbing onto his shoulders for stability as he began to walk them out of the room. 

“Going to make some tea.” he grumbled, walking them to the kitchen and setting her down on a seat next to the island.

“Tea?” 

“To help you sleep.” 

She scoffed, pulling the blanket around herself like a cocoon. “I would sleep much better at home in my own bed.” 

He only hummed in response, puttering around his kitchen as he began to prepare a cup of tea for her. 

“When can I go home?” she asked, voice small as she pulled the edges of the blanket even tighter around her. 

Yoongi paused, frozen for a moment as the question hit him. “This is home, jagi.” He answered as he resumed the motions of making tea. 

“This is your home. When can I go back to my home?” 

He sighed, placing a mug down on the counter. “You tried to leave me, jagiya. You can’t go home anymore.” 

“So you’re going to keep me prisoner?” 

“You’re not a prisoner, jagiya.” he refuted, pouring hot water into the mug and letting the tea leaves steep. “You can come and go as you please so long as you have someone with you.” 

“So I can leave only if you’re with me. How is that not being a prisoner?” she asked, staring down at her toes, curled around the bar between the chair legs. 

“It doesn’t have to be me. Your security team can go with you.” 

“So guards? Like a prisoner?” 

With another heavy sigh, Yoongi made his way over to her, slipping his hand along the curve of her jaw and tipping her head up so that she was looking at him as his hand settled with his thumb under her chin keeping her head tipped up. 

“I want you to be happy here, Mari-ah.” he rumbled, drinking in her features and taking note of how exhausted she looked. 

He was sure they both looked exhausted. It had been a long night for both of them with not nearly enough rest. 

“You’re not a prisoner. My home is your home, but I cannot…” He paused, sucking in a breath and closing his eyes as he tried to reign in his emotions. He was still reeling from the panic of nearly losing her. “I cannot lose you. Not again.” 

“You can’t lose what you never had, Yoongi.” she sighed, pushing his hand away as he looked at her almost wounded. “And I don’t want to be with you.” 

“I know you’re not happy to be here.” he conceded. “This isn’t how I wanted this to happen either, but we’re here now. The only thing we can do is move forward.” 

“I want to go home.” 

“That’s just not possible.” 

Yoongi moved away, partially to finish preparing her tea and partially to escape the way she was looking at him, eyes dark and pleading, begging him to give in and let her have her way. In any other matter he probably would have, but not in this. 

“What about my job? My life?” 

“You don’t need to work. I can take care of you.” 

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “With your criminal enterprises?” 

“I don’t want to argue with you, Mari.” he walked over, steaming cup of tea in hand. 

“It’s  not drugged is it?” she asked, eyeing it suspiciously as she took it, giving the cup a tentative sniff. 

“No, but it will help you sleep.” 

“I don’t want to sleep.” 

Yoongi regarded her carefully, taking in the way she was curled in on herself, the dark smudges under her eyes, the faint tremble in her fingers as she held the mug close to her chest. 

She needed to sleep, but he doubted she was going to allow herself to relax enough to go back to bed, not anytime soon at least which was going to make this an even longer night for the both of them. Dawn hadn’t even begun to break over the horizon yet. 

“How is this going to work?” she asked, voice small but still drawing Yoongi’s attention to her like a magnet. 

“How is what going to work, jagi?” 

“This.” she gestured vaguely around her. “What are the parameters? How do you expect this to go? People are going to notice I’m missing.” 

“You’re not missing.” he shrugged, brushing off that concern right off the bat with a nonchalance that bothered her. “I’m not holding you prisoner. This is your home as much as it is mine. I’m not going to stop you from going out. I’m not going to take away your access to the world.” 

“I just can’t leave you.” she finished for him, staring at her mug with a furrow between her brows.

“You can’t leave me.” he confirmed. “Hey.” he called out to her softly, tipping her chin up to face him again. “It’s not so bad. We can be happy together. Just like old times.” 

“That was six years ago, Yoongi. We’re very different people now.” 

“Not so different.” he disagreed. “But you’re right. We do need to set some rules.” She tensed, her shoulders pulling back as though she was bracing for a blow. “I don’t want to restrict you, jagiya, but I need to know that you’re safe, that you’re here.” 

“That I haven’t run away from you.” she added bitterly. 

“That too.” he conceded, not even trying to hide the fact that he had an almost unhealthy need to have her next to him. “You can go where you like. You can see where you like, but I need to know where you are at all times.” 

“I’m not a child, Yoongi.” 

“No, but you are a woman with a history of trying to slip away from me.” he pointed out, leveling her with a blank stare that dared her to argue that point with him. “If you go out, I need to know where you are. I need to know you’re safe, and that means that either I or your security team needs to be with you.” 

“How many people are on my security team?” 

“At the moment?” he asked, and she nodded. “Six. Two with you at all times, and they rotate in shifts.” 

“That’s a lot of people just to keep an eye on me.” 

“You’re the most important thing in my life, Margot.” he stated, his voice calm but completely serious as he spoke. “I can’t risk anything happening to you.” 

“Yeong is part of my team.” she ventured to guess as she turned her eyes back to the mug gripped between her hands. “And the guy from earlier.” 

“Yes.” he nodded. “They can take you anywhere you need to go.” 

“Do they report to you if I go out?”

Yoongi hesitated for a moment before answering. “They do.” 

“So you get to know where I am at all times whether I want you to or not.” she pointed out, taking a sip from her tea. It was warm and earthy in flavor, some sort of herbal mix meant to help her relax and drift back off to sleep.

“I love you, Margot, but I won’t risk leaving you again.” 

Her head shot up at that. “You don’t love me.” she shook her head, eyes troubled and a deep frown etched onto her features. “You don’t even know me anymore.” 

Yoongi smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes. It was a bittersweet expression filled with a pain she didn’t want to put a name to. 

“I would love you even if I hadn’t seen you in fifty years.” he told her, hands coming to rest on the island, arms caging her in. “Letting you go six years ago was the biggest mistake of my life. I have regretted not telling you how I felt every day since you left.” She stared at him with wide eyes as he spoke, not quite believing what she was hearing. “Is it so terrible that I want you with me, jagiya?” she didn’t answer. “Losing you again would break me.” he admitted, voice low and raspy as he spoke. “I know this isn’t ideal. I know what I do scares you.” 

One of his hands shot out, plucking the mug from her grip just as her hold had begun to loosen. Yoongi set the mug aside, before lifting his hand to brush some loose hair away from her face, gazing at her with an expression that settled somewhere between loving and manic. The glint in his eye sending a shiver down her spine. 

“I can protect you, jagiya. I can keep you safe, and everything will be as it should be. You never need to be a part of what I do. I just need you with me.” 

“You’re crazy.” she whispered, staring at him with fresh horror.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, shooting her a crooked grin, that disturbing glint still in his eye. “But I know what I want, and that’s you, jagiya. It’s always been you.” 

His grin faded as he continued to look at her, his eyes scanning her features and his look becoming serious.

“Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve built is nothing without you.” 

“You’ve completely lost your mind.” her voice was low and hushed as she spoke, her gaze less frightened and more pitying now as she examined the man before her. 

Yoongi leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the closeness, relishing the fact that she was allowing him so close. 

“I love you.” he whispered, the words loud in the silence of the room. 

“If you love me, let me go.” she whispered in return, her own eyes drifting shut in the intimacy of the moment. 

A sardonic chuckle left him as he pulled back, one of his hands coming up to cup her cheek. 

“I can’t do that, baby. You know that.” her eyes opened, watching him as his thumb drifted softly across her cheekbone. “I can let you have your freedom, but I can’t let you go. At the end of the day, I need you with me.” 

“It’s not freedom if I can’t leave you, Yoongi. It’s not my choice.” 

He stared at her for a moment, head tilted to the side as he considered her words. “I know, but it’s the best I can offer you.”

She pulled back, staring at him contemplatively as he had her. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” 

Margot turned, grabbing her mug from the island before hopping down from her chair, pushing past Yoongi with the blanket trailing behind her as she left the kitchen, breaking the moment. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, trailing after her.

“I don’t know.” she shrugged, sipping her tea. “But I’m not going back to bed.” 

“It’s four in the morning, jagiya.” he grumbled even though he continued to follow her as she moved out into the living space and plopped herself down on his couch. 

“Then go back to bed.” She said, looking at him as though this was the obvious answer. He didn’t move. “I’m too tired to deal with anymore of your bullshit tonight.” she groaned, leaning her head against the back of the sofa.

“Then come to bed.” he shot back, waiting for her to move. 

“I want my own room.” she declared, and Yoongi shot her a vicious grin before shooting her down.

“Not happening, my love.” 

“Why not?” she demanded, lifting her head to look at him.

“I don’t want you so far from me.” 

She groaned, letting her head drop again. “You’re exhausting.”

“Then come to bed.” he offered again. 

“Do I get my own room?” she asked, her head tilted to the side.

“No.”

“Then no thank you.” 

“It’s late.” he said, trying to prompt her into returning to their room and the comfort of their bed, but she didn’t so much as acknowledge he’d spoken at all.

With a heavy sigh, Yoongi plopped himself down beside her on the couch, throwing his arms across the back of the couch as he did. “You are an incredibly frustrating woman.” 

She chuckled a little, sipping her tea. “You kidnapped me. You get to deal with it.”

part 13

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yandere fic #mafia fic #mafia au #yandere au #yandere bts #yandere yoongi #yandere suga #yandere agust d #mafia bts #mafia yoongi #mafia suga #mafia agust d #yoongi x oc #suga x oc #agust d x oc #dark romance #amygdala #mafia kpop #yandere kpop #yandere #mafia

[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

[dollfaceksj]

schemin’ | myg (m) MASTERLIST

➥ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: Your dream comes true when world renowned music producer and CEO of D-Town Records, Agust D, discovers you in the underground rap scene and wants to sign you to his label. It all goes well for a few months and you can’t believe you’re actually living your dream. However, things start to shift when Agust D offers to do something for you and you can’t stop thinking about it for weeks to come. Your boyfriend doesn’t like it one bit.

➥ GENRE: angst ⋆ smut ⋆ slow-burn

➥ CATEGORY: series

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, infidelity, boss/employee, sexual tension (a lot of it), slowburn, ethically questionable, strong language, (kinda) fake!romance, y/n inner dialogue, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, cocky!yoongi, reader is v impulsive and v dumb at times, dark themes, mentions of misogyny, gonna add more later, minors DNI

➥ TOTAL WORDCOUNT: 70.2k

➥ STATUS: completed

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

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CONCEPT VIDEO:

©dollfaceksj // edited by me

song: legacy of new boyz – schemin’

— i n d e x ↓

♢ 00 – teaser ; 796

♢ 01 – i’d do anything ; 4.3k

♢ 02 – peeping tom ; 4.8k

♢ 03 – make the most of it ; 5.3k

♢ 04 – talk about professional ; 6.7k

♢ 05 – busted ; 7.1k

♢ 06 – greedy ; 6.9k

♢ 07 – bait taken ; 7.7k

♢ 08 – do you want it? ; 9.5k

♢ 09 – cat got your tongue? ; 8.7k

♢ 10 – schemer ; 8.2k

— d r a b b l e s ↓

♢ ✄…

➸ cross-posted to ao3.

➸ support me by buying me some coffee if you can☕︎♡

#min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x oc #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x oc #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #suga #suga smut #agust d #suga x y/n #suga x reader #suga x you #suga x oc #bts #bts yoongi #bts smut #yoongi au #yoongi fic #min yoongi au #min yoongi fic #bts fics #yoongi fics #minors dni #dollfaceksj

[mistypsych]

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 8

/ yoongi / suga / agust d /

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after not writing anything at all. Please keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty at times. Comments and thoughts are well appreciated. Don’t hesitate to ask questions, state your thoughts for me to post up and have me add you to the tag list!

Sorry it took me a while to post this chapter. It isn’t too long but I didn’t want to leave you all hanging without anything. I had a lot of things to handle - family visit threw the holidays as well as I met someone and got into a relationship - first time since a couple years. Work has also been busy so I hope you guys will forgive my absence! I will try and post more frequently now! Please comment. Your words always are motivating!

The dead toned beep of the ended phone call rang in your ears mercilessly. Taking a couple seconds to compose yourself after Yoongis brutal truth, you looked at the mirror and took in a deep, sharp breath. Shaking your head, you grabbed at the bridge of your nose. This was all getting chaotic and you did not like that fact at all.

You’ve always lead a quite composed life. Yes your work was complicated and very intense at times but outside of that you lead a peaceful life up until now. Up until you got dragged into this fucking mess by your best friend. Up until you found out your fiancé was a liar and cheater. Up until you screwed Agust-D, or should you say - it was more like he screwed you.

Walking into the hot shower you tried to get rid of all those invasive thoughts. Your brain kept playing scenes of the black eyed gangsters lips attacking all of your skin, all of those sensitive parts, all the places that mattered. Your hands wiped down your face as if trying to toss off all the images together with the water droplets. This was not going to be an easy task. Sleeping with the long haired brunette just made your already complicated situation even more messed up.

Once you were wiping your body off with the soft towel you let out yet again another frustrated sigh. Knowing you had to get out of the bathroom and face Hoseok angered you. All you wanted to do was punch him in the face and break his perfect little nose. The vision of having to keep this relationship going for the greater good and to put his ass behind bars wasn’t in any way ideal for you. But it had to be done. You knew in the long run this was they only thing that would make up for all the heartache he put you threw.

You let your still wet hair drop on your shoulders. Wrapping yourself up in a comfortable bathrobe you walked out hesitantly. The smell of freshly made breakfast, deliciously tickled your nostrils. Well at least he was good for some things - you muttered soundlessly to yourself.

Stepping in the kitchen you saw the cheater himself hovering over some pans, while humming some tune. You used to love this view, you used to watch him quietly with a big smile on your face. These gestured used to matter. Now all they did was poke a deep hole in your heart. You could not help but feel as if dead inside towards the one you thought you’d end up spending your life with.

As if on queue Hoseok turned to you with a plated meal and a sweet smile on his face.

“Sit love” he said with a hum while placing the dish on the table. You felt you stomach clench while you braved yourself to put on the best fake loving face you could. “Thanks… hun…” you said a bit hesitantly, what he picked up right away.

Sighing loudly he looked at you with sad eyes and said “Hey… I know lately it has been rough… and I work a lot… and I don’t give you the attention you deserve. But that will change soon babe, I promise…” he whispered while leaning down to kiss your temple.

It took all of your impulse control not to push away from him. Forcing yourself to take the kiss you said quietly “Yea… it has been rough…”. After your words fell, he gave you a worried look. Knowing you well he decided not to continue this topic. Instead he gave you another peck and told you to eat up while he makes coffee.

Your eyes turned to the back of his head as he brewed the caffeinated liquid. You wished you could burn a hole in his skull, purely by your gaze. Giving up on that ridiculous thought, you focused on your food. You had to eat. You had work this afternoon. You didn’t want to feel weak and tired. Work was about the only thing that still made sense in your life. All the rest seemed to be going down in flames.

Once your fiancé put a cup in front of you, you gladly grabbed at it. Keeping yourself occupied and your mouth full was the best option to avoid senseless talk. You were only willing to answer what you had planned for the day. You really didn’t want to force the conversation. Thankfully Hobi seemed to think all the tension was coming from his lack of time and his hectic work schedule. Who were you to correct him? Even if you wanted you couldn’t. You had a deal with Jimin. The vision of the cheating bastard in front of you, being set behind bars was the only thing that kept you sane.

When you finished up your meal, you decided to do the dishes. You didn’t want to seem too upset. It was a usual with the two of you. When one cooked the other took care of the dishes. The brainless action made you zone out. The bubbles on your hand felt oddly relaxing. As you were about to calm down from all the anger your felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist.

You took in a sharp breath and get tense right away. It was something you could not control. It was just a natural reaction of your body to the touch of someone who you saw as a traitor. “Are you that displeased with me?” he asked, his lips almost touching your ear. Anxiety was attacking your nerve system mercilessly. You had to swallow the big ball that formed in your throat before you spoke “It just had been very awkward between us… that’s all…”.

Shaking his head slightly he kept on hugging you “I know baby… and I wanna fix it… you know what they say… good sex can cure many arguments…” hearing those words you felt your stomach flip. The last thing you were feeling up to was going to bed with this asshole. But did you have much choice? This was your thing. You guys used to use the act of desire take over you when in disputes. You didn’t want to raise red flags and have him suspicious of your behavior. There was so much at stake.

An idea popped in your head. You could use the fact he clearly wanted to sway you, please you. This was your way to get threw this. Turning around slowly you gave him a dark smile. Your brain automatically switching to imagine someone else was standing in front of you. “Is that so? You want to fix the situation?” you asked with a deeper voice and he nodded in agreement.

“Then get on your knees and please me. Since you didn’t have time to give me attention lately… today will be all about me…” you voice was sultry and tainted with a darkness you never let out yet. Hoseok was clearly taken aback for a second, completely not expecting such a thing from you. But you were right, he did want to sway your mood. So he smiled gently while dropping down slowly to his knees.

His long fingers grabbed at your shorts and pulled them down. You closed your eyes imagining it was those digits covered in rings doing this to you. At this moment you were great full for having a good imagination. You needed it to survive this, to take pleasure from it.

When you felt the hot breath hit your core, you bit down on your lip, visioning it was the dark haired mobster in front of you. The image of Agust-D on his knees made you soaked in seconds. “God you’re getting wet…” Jung gasped, his voice distracting you a bit, so you shushed him with a “Get to it then…”.

Once you felt his tongue on your clit you almost jumped. The next movements and sucking making you almost moan Yoongis name. He was right. You would be thinking of him… fuck you were already and this was the only thing making you enjoy the moment. It didn’t take you long to jump over the edge. Biting down on your tongue you made sure to not scream the name of another.

Luckily for you, your fiancé was so out of it all and happy with himself, he believed everything between you was ok for now. The fact he had to head out to work soon, was just the cherry on top of the cake. You on the other hand had time to get ready for the afternoon and think about how Yoongi read right threw you. His words from your last phone call echoed in your brain. Shaking your head you mumbled to yourself - Stop. This needs to stop. I am just gonna use what happened to imagine things, to survive around Hoseok as long as I need to.

The little pep talk was supposed to set you straight. You decided you would never give into temptation again. You’d never jump into the arms of a gangster. You couldn’t. He was bad news. Or maybe bad news was him. It was hard to decided which of the two was correct. But the fact was - this man was danger and it was best to stir clear of him. So that is what you planned on doing.

Work was going well for you even tho you didn’t get to have the shift with your friend. But maybe that was better. That way you could focus on the job and not risk falling into discussing the whole gang situation. Your phone was silent as well. No messages from you soon to be ex. No one to bother your. No one to disturb your flow.

You were telling lucky to have a couple of light surgeries scheduled. They were just basic procedures. You did not need to think too much about what you were doing. You were great full that you enjoyed your job. That it was left undisturbed. That it could be your anchor to sanity. You could lose yourself in it. Forget about all the other chaos. Just be present in the moment. Just focus on your hand work, on what needed to be done. Nothing else mattered then and there.

The wrecked mood from the morning switched to a content and relaxed on. The evening was nice. You decided you’d take a walk home. You lived not too far away. Some exercise would do you well. Taking out your phone you thought for a moment and texted Jungkook. You wanted to check if maybe he was out drinking in some of the bars close by. You’d gladly join him then.

While walking and awaiting and answer from your coworker, your turned into one of the allies to take a shortcut. It was still not that late and usually the are was safe. All seemed to be the same this time. That was until a black SUV appeared at the other end. Stopping in your tracks you felt the flight or fight mode sweep over your body.

Clenching your hands on the purse strap you were thinking on what to do. Once the doors of the car opened, you were ready to run. But suddenly the well known gravely voice hit the air.

“Didn’t your parents teach you allies tend to be dangerous?” he chuckled a bit at his own words clearly enjoying he gave you a scare.

Your feet became heavy. It was as if the got cemented to the ground. A shiver ran over your spine. Standing there you stared as the brunet slowly made his way to you. The heels of his elegant shoes clicking over the ground. The sound bounced off the bricked walls. It all seemed just like in the movies. The hunter walking over to his helpless prey.

As he came close he tossed the end of his cigaret to the grown and blew out the last smoke your way. You felt your knees becoming weak. This guys was something else. Everything about him was screaming danger, but somehow you couldn’t move, you couldn’t run, you just stood there, your eyes glued to him.

“I told you we’d meet again Y/N… and you owe me a morning…” clearing your throat you finally spoke “Do I? I don’t recall anything about spending the mornings with you in our agreement…” the words made him leans his head back and laugh. “What a mouth you have…” he spat out and grabbed your face with his hand. Pushing down on your cheeks. His black eyes piercing right threw your soul. “I have better use for it then starting up discussions…” his voice was low and coated with something you could not put your finger on. Was it desire?

The next thing you knew, you were pinned to the cold wall, his face inches from yours. As you were about to speak, he silenced you with his lips.

tags: @wobblewobble822 @nansasa @nochook @kootieful @kooslilhoe @yoongisducky @xjiminsthighsx @danielle143 @llallaaa @idkjustlovingbts @darcyw16 @missusally-blog @honsoolgloss @nochuel @kaitieskidmore1 @starrlo0ver @geek-lara-nerd @jwnghyuns @xyahrinx @acquiescence804 @prettytaesworld @i-have-three-feelings @citypop-princess

#min yoongi #namjoon #suga smut #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #agust d #hobi smut #suga x reader #agustd #suga fanfic #agust d x reader #suga x y/n #min yoongi reader #yoongi min #yoongi x oc #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts yoongi #bts suga #suga x you

[sweetestofchaos]

here's to you | m.yg x reader

the holidays bring out the best in people...

❅ agust x reader | yoongi x oc [modern day blackthorn characters]

❅ prompts: "thank you for making it special" + "you're the best present i could have ever wished for"

❅ wc: 1.1k

❅ warnings: manhandling - choking (not the fun kind) - mentions of deceased parents - unprotected sex - cowgirl - creampie - two povs (kind of)

❅ a/n: written for Merry Chaosdays 1K Follower Event, requested by @theharrowing. Woooo did this take me for a ride. I wrote this 3 times before I finally liked where it was going. I did take some liberties with this and I hope you like it. Harrow, I want to thank you for picking characters from my wips. I love Blackthorn and I have wanted to dive into the modern day so freaking badly!

❅ this is not canon with blackthorn modern day. this is just for fun!

❅ line, snow and support dividers made by @benkeibear

❅ send in your own requests here

It was Christmas Eve and the streets were covered in snow. Street lights burned bright as the sky grew darker and the scent of cookies waffed in the air. Puffs of white smoke filled the air as Yoongi hurried down the street towards his car. The shop was busy all day and he had to come in to lend a hand. As the owner, it would have looked bad if he left his employees to deal with the mob of customers that never seemed to thin out. The shop was open an hour past close and Yoongi sent his works home. He was capable enough to close on his own and he wanted everyone to be with their families as soon as possible.

Parking was a pain in the ass to find and Yoongi parked a block away from the shop. It wasn’t that big of a deal but with how cold it was tonight, Yoongi wished he parked closer. The crunch of snow under his feet made his teeth grind. It was a sound on par with nails on a chalkboard for him. As he got closer to his car, Yoongi noticed a figure in the distance and he frowned. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist and grumbled to himself. The mop of dark hair was enough of a give away as to who was waiting for him.

“What do you want, Agust?” Yoongi sighed as he stepped up to his car.

His twin brother, Agust, paid him no mind. An orange flame appeared suddenly and Yoongi watched with narrowed eyes as Agust lit a cigarette in silence. He inhaled deeply and let the smoke swirl into the air, dropping his head back on the hood of the snow covered car.

Yoongi pulled his keys from his pocket and clicked his tongue, “Get out of the way. I have somewhere to be.”

“How is she?” Agust’s voice was rough, broken glass and jagged rocks. As his head slowly raised, Agust’s eyes landed on Yoongi and he grinned wickedly. “My treasure? How is she?” 

“Fuck off, Agust.”

Onyx eyes flashed a striking gold and before Yoongi could blink he was slammed into the side of his car, Agust’s hand wrapped tightly around his throat. Thick black smoke spilled from Agust’s nose as scales started to sprout along his wrists and his nails elongated. 

“Don’t play with me little brother,” Agust hissed and Yoongi narrowed his eyes, glaring at Agust as best he could. Another plume of smoke seeped from Agust’s mouth and he released Yoongi with a hiss, “Merry Christmas.” 

Agust vanished without another word, leaving Yoongi coughing and gasping for air on the sidewalk. When Agust reappeared it was out front of your door. After Keena came into his life, Agust has become a frequent visitor of yours. Tonight was no exception as he rang the doorbell and leaned in the doorway, his face board as he looked at the colorful holiday decorations that covered your stoop. Footsteps came closer to the door and Agust licked his lips, he could taste you from behind the door. The lock clicked out of place and as the door swung open, Agust watched as the smile on your face dropped.

“Working tonight?” Agust questioned as he slipped past you and started to toe off his shoes. You closed the door behind him and bit the inside of your cheek as you thought of the best way to kick the dragon out of your home.

“Um-”

“Strip. I don’t have all night.”

“Agust I don’t think-”

“I don’t pay you to think. I pay you to-”

“Can we not tonight?” Your voice was softer than usual and it made Agust pause as he had started to disrobe. The black button down he wore was half way opened, his pale chest glowing from the warm candle light that burned in your home. 

“What is it? Have you taken a lover?”

“No…I-I just-”

Agust watched as your eyes drifted to the side and he followed your line of sight. There on the entryway table was a mess of photos of whom he assumed to be your parents. Oh. He inhaled deeply and started to button his shirt back up.

“Have you eaten yet?” Agust questioned and you shook your head. “Sit,” he grunted and disappeared into your kitchen. You followed the sounds of pots banging around, choosing to sit at the island while Agust moved around your kitchen like it was his own. You had no idea what he had planned to make but the conversation flowed easily between the two of you as he cooked. When the food was finished, Agust set up the table for the two of you and waited for you to sit before he served the food. Spicy chicken ramen, kimchi fried rice with spicy rice cakes on the side.

You ate in silence, unable to speak as the flavors of the food fought with the emotions in your heart. When was the last time someone had cooked for you on Christmas Eve? Tears blurred your vision and you quickly blinked them away.

“Thank you for making it special." You muttered and Agust ignored your words.

Agust raised his glass in the direction of your parent's photos and you raised your glass as well.

"Here's to you..."

On the other side of town, Yoongi sat with his girlfriend Keena in his lap, her tits bouncing in his face as he lifted her up and down his cock. Their lips were spit slick and swollen from endless bitting. Yoongi’s head was fuzzy as his stomach clenched and jumped in pleasure. Keena’s nails dug into his back as she threw her head back and Yoongi attacked her neck with his lips. 

“Y-Yoongi!” Keena cried as her walls tightened around him for what felt like the millionth time. Yoongi snaked a hand between their bodies and tweaked Keena’s clit between his fingers.

“Gonna come for me? Make a mess in my lap?” Yoongi teased, his words filthy as he started to thrust his hips upwards. Keena babbled dumbly, too fucked out of her mind to answer clearly and Yoongi smiled, gummy and bright.

“That’s right, gem. Come all over my cock.” He licked his lips and squeezed her hips tightly, “You're the best present I-I could have - mmmmm, fuck!” Yoongi growled as she came around him, screaming his name. “E-ever wished for! S-Shit!” he panted out as he came soon after, not able to move much as her walls throbbed around him. 

Keena giggled as Yoongi cuddled into her sweaty chest. She wrapped her arms around him and played with his damp hair.

“Yoongi?” 

He hummed in acknowledgement.

“I love you.”

#yoongi smut #yoongi x oc #agust d x reader #fic: here's to you #1k followers event #happy chaosdays event

[rebeca3]

Army do you have some good fanfic recommendations?

#bts army #bts icons #bts yoongi #bts #bts layouts #bts fanfic #suga fanfic #suga agustd tour #suga bts #min yoongi #min suga #yoongi x oc #yoongi mafia #yoongi fanfic #agustd #bts agust d #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfction #jimin fanfic #jungkook fanfic #rm fanfic #taehyung fanfic

[bangtanhoneys]

louder than bombs - snippet (bts mafia)

I may never fully write this, but this snippet needs to see the light of day

Warnings: torture, woman getting beaten up

She doesn’t know how long she’s been held captive. 

The seconds, minutes and hours have turned into days and there’s no sign of relief or someone coming to get her out of there. She’s been beaten black and blue and she’s pretty sure her arm is broken but the pain is everywhere so it’s hard to tell. 

It’s also even harder to tell who is who anymore. 

At first she could recognise a couple of those who took pleasure in slamming their fists into her face or a kick aimed at her ribs, but now new people were coming in all the time and there seemed to be no sign of it all stopping. 

Where was he? Where were any of them? 

Wasn’t there meant to be a code that if one of them went missing in a day the search party would be out in the streets of Seoul, searching everywhere and everyone. No stone would be left unturned.

But she had been left behind. 

Alone.

There was no use in crying anymore as that seemed to be a trigger for all of them to beat her even more, the torture unending as they tried every trick in the book to get the answer to the question they sorely needed:

Where was Bangtan?

There was another code to keep utterly quiet and say nothing, not without lawyers, not without protection, not without her brother. 

And so she said nothing.

And the more she said nothing, the more they hurt her. 

She stared up at the figure in front of her, her left eye swollen shut but her right one was still open and she could see. Her nose was broken, had lost a couple of teeth in the process and her tongue was hurting from where she had tried not to scream.

“She looks so much like him.”

“That’s because she’s his twin, you idiot.”

The words weren’t sinking in anymore as her brain had completely shut down, trying to keep her sane enough to think of a plan to get the hell out of there. She knew she couldn’t handle much more and that she was hanging on by a thread. 

“Well, let’s make her more like him then.”

The flicker of a knife caught her attention as did the hands on her arms, making her scream out in pain when they held tight on her fractured bones. That didn’t deter them as they held on tighter, someone keeping her head in place.

“Min Inhyeon.”

Her name. That caught her attention.

“One last time - where is your twin?”

She stayed silent for a moment, her eyes watching the knife and she gave her answer by shaking her head.

“Fair enough.”

The knife on her skin above her eyebrow caused her to scream, that thread holding onto her sanity broken just as her skin just as chaos around them reigned. It seemed Bangtan had just arrived; too little, too late.

#bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #seokjin x oc #agust d #min yoongi #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction series #bts mafia imagine

[mortqlprojections]

MIN YOONGI - AGUST D 🕯️

#bts #bts icons #bts news #bts smut #bts fic #bts moodboard #bts army #bts x reader #suga bts #bts suga #agustd #agust d concert #agust d #suga icons #min yoogni #min yoongi #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #bts yoongi #yoongi concert

[citrustan]

celebrity skin (myg) {fic announcement}

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: angst, fluff, light smut, up and coming popstar!reader x seasoned idol/rapper!suga

summary: a budding pop star and a dynamic heartthrob idol rapper find themselves at the centre of a sensational speculation that could change the course of their professional lives; the infamous dating rumour.

word count: tba

warnings: portrayal of unhealthy parasocial relationships, bullying and misogyny.

note: i came across one of my older posts and thought it’d be a good idea to write this. this will be a short one-shot followed by random drabbles.

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x oc #suga x reader #suga fic #yoongi fic #suga x oc #agust d fic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfic #suga angst #suga smut #fic: celebrity skin

[chaoticpuff17]

Amygdala

part 15

masterlist

Hello, darlings! I know it's been a hot minute. School year started up and kiddos are crazy! Please enjoy the new chapter!--- chaotic puff

It took two days of rotting and sending both Yoongi and her guards into a frenzy of worry before Margot felt almost like herself again. By her third day she was up and dressed before Yoongi had even begun to stir. The past two days had taken their toll on him as well.

According to her security team, Yoongi had finally gotten the situation at work that had kept him at the “office” until late had finally been taken care of, but between work and his near panic about her rotting away, he was exhausted. When Margot woke up, Yoongi had still been asleep beside her, dead to the world, and that is where she’d left him.

Margot had crept down to the kitchen in the quiet hours of the morning. With Yoongi home, her security team was nowhere in sight, though she was sure that they were lingering somewhere in the building even if they weren’t in the penthouse.

Much to her surprise, Margot found that she quite enjoyed the penthouse when she was alone and all was quiet. Early morning light filtering through the windows was gentle and cast a soothing glow around the space. Curled up on the couch with a cup of tea, she could almost forget that she was a prisoner as she looked out across the city- almost but not quite.

There was still a lingering feeling of unease, an undercurrent to her peaceful morning that told her this wasn’t her home or her choice. It spurred her up from her position on the couch in search of the front door. She hadn’t set foot near it in the few days she’d been at the penthouse. There hadn’t been an opportunity. Either her guards or Yoongi were always with her. With so many eyes watching her every move, she hadn’t been able to investigate the entry to her cell or take in what measures had been put in place to keep her inside.

Much to her surprise, the door didn’t seem as though it had any over the top security systems in place. It was an ordinary door with an ordinary lock system. There didn’t even seem to be anything that kept her locked in from the inside aside from the run of the mill easily undone measures that every lock had.

Tentatively, Margot turned the handle, barely breathing as the door swung open revealing the narrow hall to the elevator and emergency stairs. It also revealed Chul waiting outside scrolling on his phone.

She had to suppress a snicker at the way he fumbled and snapped to attention as he noticed her standing in the open doorway.

“Buin!” He stuttered a little over the honorific. “Is there anything you need, ma’am?”

“No.” she shrugged, knowing full well her lackadaisical escape plan was no more. “Yoongi is still asleep and no one was around. I was exploring.”

Chul nodded, not entirely convinced by her explanation. “I see. Is there anywhere you’d like to go, ma’am?” He asked, giving her clothes a skeptical once over. “

“Not particularly.” she shrugged again. “We do need new dishes though. His are an awful shade of white.” she sighed to herself.

“We could head out as soon as you are ready, ma’am.” Chul stated with a smile. “The boss has said we can take you anywhere you’d like to go and left a credit card for any expenses.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. She hadn’t been aware that Yoongi was so prepared for her to venture into the world. Despite his overtures that she was not a prisoner, she hadn’t really expected him to keep his word on that matter.

“A credit card…” she repeated slowly as though she hadn’t quite heard him correctly. “like for shopping?”

“Yes, buin.” Chul smiled brightly. “We just have to tell the boss we’re headed out, and we’ll be fine.”

“He’s asleep right now.” she shrugged, not really put out by the fact that they wouldn’t be going out. She hadn’t truly believed they would to begin with.

“No, he’s not.” Yoongi’s soft, grumbly voice called from the direction of the entryway. Within a moment, his arms were wrapped around her waist, pulling her in as he rested his chin against her shoulder. “Good morning, jagiya.”

She sighed in resigned irritation, but made no move to try to remove his arms. The effort would have been futile. Over the past few days she’d found that Yoongi was extremely clingy when he’d first woken up. Trying to get out of his embrace when he was like this was like trying to remove a barnacle.

“And where are you going, my love?” He murmured, nuzzling into her shoulder, the action sending an unpleasant shiver down her spine.

“Out.” She replied tersely, shoulders tense as he remained draped over her.

He huffed out a little chuckle. “Out where?”

“Out shopping. Your dishes are horrible.”

That earned her a full laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with my dishes.”

“They’re horrendous.”

Slowly, Yoongi untangled himself from her with a gummy smile that told everyone present how little he cared about the dishware. “If you want new dishes, we can get new dishes.”

Margot shot him a disgruntled look.

“There is no we. Your taste in dishware is horrible. You will have no part in this.”

“Is that so?” He asked with a raised brow.

“You kidnapped me. The least you can do is let me pick out my own dishes.” Her tone and expression were flat as she addressed him, completely void of any and all expression.

A wide, gummy grin spread over Yoongi’s features as he processed her words.

While she may have been trying to dissuade him from coming on her half-baked excursion, in his eyes it was a sign of her settling in. To him, this was Margot signaling that she wanted to make the space her own. If she was investing the time and effort to change aspects of the apartment, she wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon.

“Nest to your heart’s content, love.”

Yoongi pressed a kiss to her hairline before stepping away from her entirely.

“Grab your shoes, jagi. I’ll get ready, and then we’ll head out.”

Margot froze, shooting him a look of complete consternation. “You’re not coming.”

“Of course I am. We’ve barely gotten to spend any time together.” Margot made a face, but held her tongue. “And I want to see what you pick.”

“You can see when we get back.” she pointed out stubbornly, trying to deter him despite knowing he was not one to be easily dissuaded.

Yoongi chuckled, ducking back in to place another quick kiss to her cheek. “Not a chance, jagi.”

Margot wiped her cheek in disgust. He’d been overly affectionate since the moment of their acquaintance, and for the most part she could brush it off, but the kisses were off-putting. There was only so much of the casual intimacy that she could take before it became too much to bear.

“We’ll be ready in twenty minutes.” Yoongi informed Chul, softly pushing Margot back into the confines of the apartment as he did.

“Of course, sir. I’ll have the car waiting. Will you be driving yourself today?”

Yoongi paused, mulling it over for a moment. “I’ll drive.”

“You don’t have to come.” Margot grumbled as Yoongi closed the door behind them.

All the humor had left his features as he assessed her now. Instead a small furrow marred the spot between his brows, and his lips set themselves in a grim line.

“I don’t like waking up without you.” He grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his tired features. “I thought, for a moment, that you were gone again.”

For a moment, Margot could have sworn that she heard the slightest wobble in his voice, but it was so faint that she couldn’t be sure.

“Would if I could.” she muttered, under her breath, moving further into the penthouse and away from Yoongi.

Yoongi was quick to catch up, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her into his chest, eliciting a small “eep” from Margot at the unexpected motion.

“I love you.” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck with a smirk as a shiver went down Margot’s spine.

“Gross.” she huffed, pushing his arms away and deeply regretting the choice to wear her hair up. It provided him with far too much access when his intrusive thoughts told him to do something affectionate as though they were a couple. “That’s a bad decision on your part.”

“I think it’s an excellent decision.”

She shook her head sadly as she ventured towards the bedroom in search of shoes with Yoongi trailing behind her.

“So many, many bad decisions.”

Once they reached the bedroom, she headed for the closet while Yoongi headed towards the bathroom.

“I’ll grab a quick shower and get ready, and then we can go. Okay, jagi?”

“Or you could not come!” she called back as she began her single minded search for the particular pair of shoes that she had in mind.

“Not a chance, jagi!” he called back.

When Yoongi said a quick shower, he meant a quick shower. It was barely even ten minutes later when he emerged hair damp with a towel wrapped around his waist as he searched for his own clothes for the day.

“Jesus, Yoongi!” Margot shrieked, throwing her hands over her eyes. “Put some fucking clothes on!”

Yoongi shot her a smirk that she couldn’t see. “I’m not shy, sweetheart. Look all you want.”

“Pervert!”

Margot made her way out of the closet, scurrying quickly out of the bedroom entirely so as to avoid any more sightings of Yoongi in his towel. She didn’t need to be thinking about how much muscle he’d gained since college or the fact that he looked very very good without his shirt on. Part of her thought that Yoongi must have done it on purpose. He was always pushing the boundaries of where their nonexistent relationship actually was with actions that he thought matched the intimacy of the relationship they had in his head denoted.

It unnerved her just how domestic Yoongi made the entire kidnapping seem. Even today, he was acting as if this was a normal outing to pick dishware for their first home together. He’d called it nesting. In reality it was just a plot to spend his money on things he didn’t actually need and to get rid of the sanatorium white dishes she so despised. But it wasn’t the first thing that Yoongi had done that was domestic either.

Yoongi treated her as if they had been a couple for years. If one ignored the fact that he was a criminal and a kidnapper, you could almost believe that they had been a couple for years. He cooked. He placed sweet kisses on every innocuous piece of skin he could reach. He had even gotten out of bed in the wee hours of the morning to make her tea in an effort to help her get back to sleep. It was almost sickening in its domesticity, and yet he didn’t seem to find any problem with it. But he was the one who had kidnapped her after all. This was what he wanted.

“Are you ready, jagiya?” Yoongi asked, appearing out of nowhere and causing Margot to jump as he startled her.

“You need a bell or something.” she hissed, her hand pressed over her heart, feeling the muscles rapid rhythm against the palm of her hand.

“Noted.” The little smirk stretched across his lips earned him a glare from Margot. “Are you ready?”

“I’d be more ready if you weren’t coming.”

“You look lovely, jagi.”

“Flatterer.”

Margot marched out of the room towards the door with Yoongi following closely behind.

As irritated as she was to have Yoongi coming along, she was also incredibly relieved to be getting to leave the confines of the penthouse. Now that her period of rotting in bed was over, she could clearly tell that the days cooped up in the penthouse had done her no good, and she desperately wanted to feel the sun on her skin and to interact with people who were not Yoongi or her babysitters.

“Slow down, jagi.” Yoongi caught her hand, forcing her to slow down her brisk stride. “There’s no rush.”

“Says the one who’s been outside in the past few days.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at that. “You aren’t a prisoner, jagi. You are allowed outside.”

“Not unaccompanied.” She pointed out lightly tugging at her hand as it remained in his grip though the movement did little to loosen his hold.

“It’s not so bad,” he shrugged. “Which you would know if you’d attempted to go outside before.”

Margot pursed her lips, keeping a snippy retort leashed behind her teeth as he poked at her though Yoongi quickly took note of the sour look on her face.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “That was unkind.”

“We can’t all be feisty heroines, Yoongi.” She replied softly. “Some of us need time to grieve what we’ve lost before we push boundaries.”

“I’m sorry.”

Margot tilted her head to the side, assessing Yoongi as she thought about his apology.

It wasn’t one that she needed or particularly wanted, but it had been given none the less. What she really wanted from him was something she knew he wouldn’t give. No one went through the trouble of taking someone prisoner just to let them go a few days later without getting what they wanted, and Margot certainly hadn’t given him what he wanted. She doubted he’d let her leave even if she did play along. If anything it would only feed into his delusions more.

And yet despite his delusions, he was genuinely sorry for causing her grief. It was maddening and sweet all at once, but mostly it was just maddening.

“I don’t need your apologies, Yoongi. I just want to go home.”

“You know that’s not an option, jagi.” His expression shuttered, the softness leaving his features as he steeled himself against the grief in her eyes, the soft pleading in her tone.

Just as his expression changed, hers did as well. All gentle pleading left her as quickly as it had come replaced by squared shoulders and a defiant glint shining in her eye.

“Still not your jagi.” she tossed over her shoulder as she moved towards the entryway once more. “Not your anything really.”

“Whatever you say, jagiya.” he chuckled, trailing after her.

Margot couldn’t stop moving as the elevator took them down to the street level. She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, shifted her weight from one side to the other. Her fingers played with the bracelet on her wrist, twisting it over and over again. Part of her was certain that this was a joke, that Yoongi would take them right back inside when they reached the lobby, but despite that nagging negativity in the back of her mind, she was vibrating with excitement at the idea of being outside and the possibilities it presented.

Suddenly Margot stopped all movement, turning her attention to Yoongi as the elevator opened on the ground floor.

“Can I have my phone back?” she asked, stepping out of the elevator with him.

“Your phone?”

She nodded, giving him a look that suggested in no subtle way that the answer to that question should have been obvious. “My phone. I haven’t seen it since you kidnapped me, and I’m sure that there are people looking for me. My disappearance right before I was supposed to head to the countryside is highly suspicious you know.”

Yoongi scoffed out a sort of half laugh. “Want to contact your detective friend?”

“Namjoon-ssi?” Margot cocked her head to the side analyzing his expression her eyes widening as she puzzled out whatever she saw there. “You’re jealous!” She declared, her eyes dancing with laughter.

“Of course not.” he scoffed, averting his eyes. “Why would I be jealous of some no name detective?”

“You’re totally jealous.”

“He took you on a date.” he grumbled as he led her outside to where the black SUV he typically drove was waiting for them.

“Yeah, to get me out of having to talk to you.” Margot slipped into the passenger seat as Yoongi held the door open for her. “You’re jealous.”

Yoongi scoffed again, closing her door and moving towards his side of the car. “I have nothing to be jealous of. I’m far better than some no-name detective.”

“I don’t know. I actually like Namjoon’s company. Can’t say the same about you though.”

“Are you trying to make me jealous, jagiya?” he asked, leveling her with an unamused look as he slipped into the driver’s seat.

“Nope.” she leaned back, putting special emphasis on the ‘p’ with a little pop as she spoke. “Your feelings of jealously have no affect on me what-so-ever.”

“Careful, jagi. You won’t like me when I’m jealous.” he warned, his hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel.

“I don’t like you currently.” she shrugged.

“Careful, love.” he warned again. “Now, where would you like to go?”

“Somewhere that sells non-horrible dishware.”

part 16

#bts fic #yandere #yandere bts #dark romance #bts #bts fanfic #mafia au #mafia bts #mafia #mafia kpop #yandere kpop #yoongi x oc #mafia yoongi #yandere yoongi #suga x oc #mafia suga #yandere suga #agust d #agust d x oc #mafia agust d #yandere agust d #d-day #hyung line #yandere hyung line #mafia hyung line

[cherrysoulth]

CRIMINAL SMIRK

💕Pairing: Yoongi x Reader 

✏️Genre/au: Canon, Smut, Long time relationship AU

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 1432

⚠️chapter warnings: Explicit smut

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were quietly sitting on his sofa as he kept on mixing on his board and computer, cursing low here and there. It still amazes you to see him work, hear the beats and music go through his headphones when he lowers them to tell you something. Always getting your full attention as he does so.

You heard the low and consistent beat, taking you out of your writing on the laptop, focusing your eyes on him. He hadn’t even turned around, just put them over his shoulders and exhaled extendedly. He was tired and frustrated, a combination you knew way too well. He turned, still not looking at you before raising his feline eyes.

“Could you leave me alone for a bit?” he asked, not surprising you. Knowing he wasn’t trying to be harsh or anything but that he really needed to be left alone. You closed your screen and picked up your laptop.

“No problem,” you told him. “Can I kiss you?” you wondered, eyes still on him. He put down his set and stood as a response.

When you got closer, you placed a hand on his nape and kissed him on the cheek at the opposite side before moving away to walk out. He stopped you by the wrist and pulled to peck you on the lips. But when he felt their warm texture, something in him raised and he gave in to a deeper kiss, parting your lips with his. He surprised himself by breathing erratically immediately. The days of isolation and hard work, starting to wreak havoc.

His taste and the way he was kissing you, how you felt his lower body press against yours, making your skin crawl and your stomach tense, had your legs weak at the knees. His passion soon led his lips to your neck and his body to push you in the sofa's direction again, his hands resting at your nape and lower back. His masculine scent filled the air as you took in the sight of his naked throat and clavicle, whilst his teeth nibbled at your throat.

He leaned you both on it. His body rests between your legs and over yours. Skin hungry of his ministrations when his hands moved to different horizons. One pulled the neck of your shirt to expose your shoulder and bite in it, while the other travelled down your knee to the convenience of your skirt.

You heard him huff a chuckle before he raised his face to yours with his gangster smirk, resting his upper weight on his forearm, looking down on you and sliding his other hand further underneath it to the italian lace underwear. He lowered his head, biting his lower lip, before looking at you again.

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” he said, referring to the skirt. You swallowed and this time it was you who held your lower lip between your teeth and then smirked. As if it was true, as if it hadn’t been because it was new and you just couldn’t wait to put it on. He huffed a single chuckle. “Get ready then…” he said in his deepest tone, eliciting goosebumps from every place on your body.

Pulling down the waistband of your undergarments very slowly, he held his eyes on yours. The vandalic smile doing things to you that couldn't be put into words, but had an immediate bodily response that marked the fabric before he had fully separated it from your core. 

When he stood on his knees to get them completely off and saw the wetness in it, his smirk turned sharper and more lethal. He put the garment inside his pocket before his hands rested on your knees caressing his way to the back of your legs to pull them back up. He then lowered his upper body to lean and kiss one of them, while the other hand lowered to the back of your ass and squeezed it.

His lips trained down your body in soft wet kisses, until he reached the last strip of flesh before your groin. He nibbled, making you gasp.

His mouth was soon over your mound, making your hands close over the side and upper edges of the sofa. He kissed over your clit before pressing his tongue into it, making you whimper. His smirk, obvious against your lips before his tongue took possession of your very being. Flicking it with the right strength to make you moan loudly and send one hand to entangle in his orange hair. 

As he coaxed your orgasm, your moans almost turned into cries. The way he changed his pace suddenly and flicked in a different direction, making you find the edge and fall. Moaning highly, the orgasm hit you unparalleled as he kept his tongue technology going through it and gave a single lick on your entrance to taste what he'd provoked. 

When he stood on his knees again, he put his hands on your thighs and caressed them up and down, letting you catch your breath for a moment. But even with the satisfaction, you craved him deep. You craved the hot and hard shaft you could see drawing through his sweatpants. He chuckled to the way your eyes lingered over his lower body.

He looked at the door for a second, making sure the key was still there, that he had closed it. Then he slowly leaned over you.

"You are glowing," he whispered in your ear before kissing the juncture of your jaw and throat. 

"You make me," you replied, resting your hands on his neck. His, making your arms go around his shoulders as he moved to kiss you. You didn't hesitate to accept it, even when you could taste yourself a little. 

His tongue is your condemnation, no matter where he puts it. He made it dance with yours inside your mouth, until you moaned with the need for more. 

He didn't doubt to oblige, skillfully pulling down his pants while separating his lips just a little. Then retaking your mouth with a slow and careful kiss, while his concentration focused on leading his naked core through your entrance; slow and thoughtful with his movements. The moisture of your slick and how hot his handness felt sliding in, made you squirm. 

It had been too many days without having him. The kisses held between you, had turned into a prickling torture that you couldn't get relief from but you kept it cool for him to be focused on his work. 

He was too needy too. His shaft twitched twice as he penetrated you and he had to hold steady once he reached your end. Nose against nose, he moved while pressing his teeth together, before putting forehead against forehead. A low grunt escaping his throat through his nostrils, making you clench.

"Fuck…" he muttered. 

"It's okay, daddy. I got mine, you get yours. It's fair." you whispered against his mouth. He hesitated but you raised your hips encouraging him. 

Kissing you again, one of his hands took position on your hip, while the other kept holding his weight to not crush you. 

The pace was slow and measured, making love to you at the beginning. Cherishing you while gathering some composure for himself. Kissing your cheeks and nose on his way. 

When he felt his release back off, things took a twist. He allowed his upper body over yours, still slightly holding his weight, your chin resting on his shoulder as he pushed deeper. His hips rocking against yours, allowing zero openings, lethal. He kissed your head on the side, one last reminder of his care for you before his needs took over. 

His pace started quickening to the point of turning your moans into a single melody beheld between thrusts. A wild orgasm hitting you as he moved, making you cry his name and making him lose his pace for a second, feeling your walls pulsate and close around his shaft. Before resuming the pace and spilling white ropes of his essence, coating your walls, with sets of low groans. The twitches of his shaft, making you feel a strange pride.

Spent, you both stayed in that position. He kissed your cheek repeatedly while caressing your thighs and waist. You noticed him lingering on the touches, nuzzling over the skin of your throat, lengthening the moment. 

"I love you too." you whispered and felt his smile against your throat.

"I love you." he then mumbled with that low tone again, erupting your skin in emotional goosebumps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

© 2021-2022 Cherry Soulth, all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

Thank you @abitjess for the beta work 💜

#yoongi x you #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts agust d #bts au fic #bts fluff #bts yoongi

[dollfaceksj]

wait i have a question , does cal yoongi have a daddy kink??? 😮‍💨😮‍💨

i’m glad u asked 😴

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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

[mistypsych]

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 6

/ yoongi / suga / agust d

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after not writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. Comments and thoughts are well appreciated. Don’t hesitate to ask questions, state your thoughts for me to post up and have me add you to the tag list!

He slightly tightened his hand around your neck earning a louder gasp this time. You swallowed nervously. It was like he could easily snap your neck if he wanted to, so why were your feeling the desire burn in you more with each second? Agust-D was a dangerous man, a man you should not be involved with in any way. As much as you did not feel intimidated by his pawns like Teahyung, he himself was another story. He scared you in many ways but also intrigued you and excited you, what made a very dangerous mix of emotions. One bound to finally explode.

Hearing you desperately take in air to your lungs, he smirked. He felt the slight tremble of your body. He was aware of the fear that was tangling up with the lust within you. He knew in one way you wanted to run but in another he was keeping you on your tiptoes. So he pulled on your neck, bringing you closer to him, your eyes shutting tighter. His breath danced over your chin. “I’ll ask you again… are you sure you’re finished?”

Your muscles shook from all the anticipation. You knew the plan for fucking around with someone like Tae was already stupid but this? This felt like a suicide mission. Like a moth throwing itself into a beautiful flame. But why couldn’t you stop? Why couldn’t you run away? While you were trying to cling to whatever that was left from your rational mind, an image of your fiancé messing around with some girl swung into your brain. You wanted it to go away. To push away the vision of someone you loved so dearly fucking some other woman, pleasing her, making her beg for more. The thought of what he was doing made something break inside of you.

You finally opened your eyes and looked into the black ones in front of you. “I asked you something?” he slowly articulated, again tightening his grip to the point it was starting to get uncomfortable. “No… I’m not sure…” you almost panted out. His hand moved from your neck to grab your face in a strong squeeze, what made a stunned whimper fall out of you as he brought you millimeters from his lips. You felt his fingers dig into the flesh of your cheeks, sure that it would leave a red mark.

“That’s what I thought…” he bellowed crashing his lips over yours. His kiss was aggressive but also strangely full of passion, as if he was needing this as much as you were. You dug your hands into his hair, pulling at the wavy strands, angling his head to drop back. He groaned and let out a slightly amused chuckle while grabbing your ass with both hands, pushing you more into him. “Fucking needy as I thought… don’t worry…” he said while staring into your eyes as you pulled at his hair. The way he accepted the roughness, made you burn even more.

Letting one hand slip from your ass, he snaked it up to the nape of your neck, forcing you to crash over him. As much as he enjoyed your roughness he was not about to let you take full control. No, you needed a little bit of freedom but also to be tamed, brought to the challenge but then taken over. He overpowered you easily. His lips now sucking on your collarbone, his tongue trailing up your neck.

You squeezed your fingers tighter into his soft hair. A suppressed moan quietly trying to escape. Sitting himself higher up he nibbled your earlobe while whispering “Come on… let me hear those noises… let me know how I am making you feel… how much you fucking want this…” you didn’t want to let go completely. You were still trying to find something within you to escape. You knew getting entangled with him was dangerous. That he was a man that made you curious, that was opinionated, that he had to be smart and that surely he would be able to keep your interest. Those facts made you slightly panic. What were you doing? He was a criminal.

“Agust… I ca…” he bit your flesh and muttered “Yoongi… for you it is Yoongi…” he kept on attacking your sensitive neck with licks and bites. You could feel your mind get completely clouded and then you felt him move under your core, you felt how hard he was and how dam ready you were. With a slow motion of his hips he made you toss your head back, a moan rolling off your tongue “Oh fuck Yoongi…” you spat out. At this point you knew you were a goner.

Your sultry voice made him grab at your waist and lift you both up from the couch.

Your legs automatically wrapped around him. Once he carried you into the bedroom, you pushed the already unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders. He smirked at you and tossed your top over your head and into the corner of the room. Then he dropped onto his knees and pulled you by you belt closer to him.

He kissed your stomach mercilessly and then trailed his tongue over the brim of your jeans. Your body shivered from his touch. You looked at him. His wavy hair was messy, his eyes shining from all the lust. Fuck he looked like a sin, a sin you were ready to dive in fully. He pulled your trousers down, leaving you only in your lingerie. Lucky for you, you chose to wear your best laced pair. He licked his lips while getting up and unbuttoning his black jeans, letting them fall to the ground.

You could see threw his boxers that you also had an effect on him. Walking up to you like you were his prey he had you back up and trip over down to the bed. He climbed on top and towered over you. You snaked your legs around his waist pulling him closer to your core. He rubbed against it causing you to arch your back and whimper. “Look at you… already a sweet mess…” he said slowly in a deep voice.

Leaning over he once again attacked your lips with his. Your tongues trying to fight over for dominance, causing them to end up in a hot and sensual dance. His fingers slipped into your underwear and he slid them over your folds earning a loud moan from you and a push of your hips. He bit his lip while smoothing his fingers over your wet entrance again, making you push towards him even more.

“Fuck…” he panted and with one strong movement he tossed you on your belly. Slowly he slipped down your panties and massaged your cheeks with his long digits. Leaning over to your ear he whispered “such a fucking sweet ass…” and then he bit down on your shoulder, having you yelp both from the slight pain and pleasure. As you were trying to gather yourself a bit he grabbed your waist and pulled your ass up towards him. Having you now on your fours.

He teased your entrance with his fingers and then you felt him line up his member. He slid in excruciatingly slow. Holding you firmly, making sure you would stand no chance to push onto him. He was toying with you and driving you crazy. Once he was fully in, you felt yourself clench over his big cock. “Mmm yea… good girl…” he slowly whispered, still not making any movement, and then he started to slam into you in the perfect rhythm.

The sudden wave of pleasure rendered you speechless for a while. You fell forward to your face, leaving your bottom up. Your mind was twisting and flying threw clouds. Were you really doing this? Were you actually in bed with a mafia boss? How did you let this happen. All those questions quickly disappeared once he grabbed your face with one hand, sticking in his index finger to your mouth and pulling on your lips to the side. This forced you back up on all fours and had you bend your head back. Tears forming in your eyes from the mixture of pleasure, pain, ecstasy and fear.

He kept his tempo, quiet, low moans stared to come out of him. You moved you face to the side to catch a glimpse of him. His back was straight, his shoulders tight as his hands were grabbing at your mouth and waist. His long waves were messily sticking to his face, that was now beaded with sweat. His eyes hooded and his tongue slightly sticking out as he was biting down on his bottom lip, a slight satisfactory smirk showing as well. He looked so damn hot. His toned body was perfect while his muscles were all tense and moving under his fair skin. Fuck even the scars made him look somehow better.

Sweat was rolling down him in all the perfect places. No wonder you gave in. Looking at him now, you started to feel less guilty about your weak will. His eyes finally met yours and his lips twisted to the side into a devilish grin. He slid out his finger from your mouth just to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling you up so your back was now leaning on his chest. The new angle causing you to whimper and throw you head back on his shoulder, giving him a perfect spot to grab your neck.

Once he slightly tightened his grip, you gasped and moaned. You were completely losing it. “Fuck Yoongi…” you slurred making him bite down on you shoulder and whisper into your ear “Mmm? Yoongi what hm?” and then he moved his hips even more aggressively, earning a cry from you and having you utter out “You fuck me so damn good!”.

A low laugh escaped him as he kept pushing in and out of you, causing the knot in your belly to get even tighter. The edge was coming closer and you were about to jump over it. Once he grabbed your breast with his other hand, you leaned even more into him, moving your hips faster to meat his. He continued to kiss and lick the crook of your neck. His breath was getting louder and more erratic. Finally you heard deep and low moans escape his perfect lips and that was enough to make you come undone.

Your body convulsed helplessly as you rode out your high, the raven haired man following right after you as you both crashed on the bed breathless. Gasping for air you slightly rolled on your side. You saw him laying on his stomach with a content and wide smile. His muscles moving as he took air in his lungs. Black curls sticking to his handsome face. He looked so good all messy like that. There was something relaxing about his demeanor at that moment. Something almost innocent. Something that really did not stick to the fact he was the head of a gang.

You smiled gently, feeling your eyelids get heavy. You were about to say something when suddenly you felt tiredness take over you. Slightly murmuring you tried to snap out of it but the events of this evening took a toll over you, whipping you out completely.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

After some time you opened your eyes. Your vision slowly adjusting to the darkness, only a dim light from the streets falling in threw the window. It took you a second to figure out you were not in your apartment. Realization of last nights actions hit you like a brick to the face. So it was not a weird dream? It really happened. Gently you turned your face. There he was, laying behind you. His body facing your way, hand stretched to your waist. He looked incredibly peaceful.

You sighed quietly and rubbed your face. What the hell were you thinking? Or more like why the fuck were you not thinking? Slightly shaking your head you decided not to be too hard on yourself. You had a moment of weakness, you were in a bad spot. You gave in. Who wouldn’t? Agust-D sure knew how to make an impression and you just found out your fiancé was cheating.

Slowly you wiggled yourself from under his hand, causing him to scrunch his nose slightly. As you were about to escape from bed, he grabbed your waist with a grunt. Looking at him you saw he was still asleep. Sighing you once again attempted to get out of bed, this time pushing a pillow in your place.

As you got up, your eyes immediately tried to locate your scattered clothes. Making sure to not be too loud, you got dressed. Your thoughts were all over the place. You really messed up. Sleeping with a mafia boss was not something you ever saw yourself doing. The fact that you were able to do something like this under an impulse started to frighten you. It was almost as if you didn’t recognize yourself.

Making your way to the hallway you took out your phone, you should order a ride home. You got yourself outside quietly. Deciding to at least cover some way on foot, you were about to phone for a pick up but a car drove behind you slowly. You felt panic hit you. Running didn’t make sense, so you decided to pretend you had no idea you were being followed. Putting your phone to your ear, you pretended to be on a phone-call.

It seemed to work as the car passed by you, but to your surprise it suddenly halted. You froze in your tracks gripping your cell and getting ready to run for your life if necessary. The doors from the drivers seat swung open and a familiar silhouette appeared. It was Jimin, what the fuck was he up to? Was he going to grab you and drop you back to Yoongis place?

Seeing your worry he said “Calm down… get in… we need to talk…” looking around as if he was worried he would get targeted. Get in? He had to be kidding you. As you were about to tell him to fuck off, he looked at you seriously “Y/N trust me I am not here to hurt you… you will want to see this, besides these streets are not as safe as they may seem, so please don’t make this difficult…”

You rolled your eyes slightly. This was all not going as you planned. But something in you pushed on getting in that car, so you did. When you closed the doors Jimin looked at you calmly and started the engine “Open that cache… there is something you need to see…”

You looked at him very suspiciously. What the hell was all this about? As you opened the small doors, a leather cover appeared. It looked as one of those things you would put on your passport. Deciding there had to be something to it, you opened it. In front of your eyes you saw a badge for a KCIA agent. Jimin’s photo and credentials plastered on it. You started blinking, making sure you are actually seeing what you’re seeing.

Then the mans melodic voice snapped you out of it “As I said… we need to talk….”.

tags: @wobblewobble822 @nansasa @nochook @kootieful @kooslilhoe @yoongisducky @xjiminsthighsx @danielle143 @llallaaa @idkjustlovingbts @darcyw16 @missusally-blog @honsoolgloss @nochuel @kaitieskidmore1 @starrlo0ver @geek-lara-nerd @jwnghyuns @xyahrinx @acquiescence804

#min yoongi #suga smut #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #agust d #hobi smut #suga x reader #agustd #namjoon #jimin #suga x y/n #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts yoongi #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x oc #yoongi min #min yoongi reader #bts suga #suga x you #jungkook #bts x reader

[purpleskybts199603]

Here is my first attempt to write a story. Please feel free to give feedback and I really hope you enjoy reading this. 💜💜💜

Summary:Y\N it's a captivating and compassionate soul who it's very dedicated to her job. She is an event planner and a pretty famous one in Seoul because of the amount of the celebrity parties that she planned. Her romantic life was a bit tormented as she just broke up with her fiance Min Yoon-Gi . Despide his passion for her, Y\N felt like Min-Yoon-Gi was selfish and cold. Even though she tried really hard to help him heal his traumatic past with a lot of love ,empathy and hope ,he still was the same heartless person and his scars were still standing between them.

Pairing: Yoongi/female reader

Warnings: some mentions of trauma

Part 1

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/purpleskybts199603/718299400628289536/scars-part-two-i-was-often-in-charge-of-planning

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/purpleskybts199603/719661762748841984/scars-part-3-i-immediately-turned-around-and

Part4: https://www.tumblr.com/purpleskybts199603/719662133096464385/scars-part-4-now-i-know-for-sure-that-hes

"The only requirement is the ability to remember every scar."

Stephen King

They say that one of the symptoms of psychological and emotional trauma is the act of denial. Maybe I was in total denial but in the last three months since I broke up with my fiancé I was doing all that was in my power to suppress my bad memories of the last three years of being in a relationship. The most challenging experience of my life was to be in love with a man who had a history of trauma. For some people life's unfair and for Min Yoon-Gi life was indeed cruel. He has all the reasons to be the bitter person he is today. But if we're talking about life I think that it isn't meant to be fair. At least not to good people. For instance how do kids that suffer from cancer find a way to stay positive and happy. What did they do wrong to deserve such a cruel fate?

But what really bothers me is when someone it's giving up themselves for others well-being, when you give all your pure love to that someone and it's still not enough. Dating Yoon-Gi was never easy. I knew from the start that he was a troubled soul with bad memories. We met through mutual friends. Working as an event planner I have a rather large social networking that includes even big artists in the music or movie industry.

All my friends and acquaintances told me to stay away from Yoon-Gi. Sure he was extremely handsome but extremely dangerous. And indeed he was. I always had a strange way to attract troublemakers. Being accustomed to work with difficult people I learnt to handle people with sarcasm and humor swings. I guess in the back of my mind I hoped that I would help him to change, help him to be able to have feelings again.

Instead of making him feel, he broke me step by step. His scars became mine. He didn't care about me but he didn't care about himself either. Our relationship was tormented indeed. It was that classic romantic clichè of a bad boy good girl relationship. Some people would say that I was the only one who he cared about as he proposed to me after two years of dating. Honestly in my mind I was associating our relationship with some form of symbiotic relationship where one takes the benefits and the other is harmed. Yoon-Gi really loved to make me miserable and that's the only thing he loved about our relationship.

#bts #agustd #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #suga bts #bts fanfction #min yoongi #min suga #fanfic #suga x y/n #yoongi #bts suga #yoongi x oc #agust d #bts yoongi #agust d tour #suga #suga imagine #suga x reader

[namboobieslover]

Kintsugi: the beauty of broken things || MYG

Summary: Yoongi and Minnie have been friends for quite some time now, almost... 15 years? 15 years since they ran into each other in that music classroom by an unlucky (or not) mistake. They've grown close, but both of them have strong characters and insecurities that will have to be put aside when Minnie falls into her own lie, risking her job in the process. They have 3 days to feel comfortable and make everyone believe their role as the young engaged couple or she is fucked :[

Pairing: musical producer! Yoongi x lab tech/science nerdy! f reader au; non-idol! BTS members make a brief appearance

Genre: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn (?), best friends to fake couple au, constant unresolved sexual tension, two idiots too proud to openly speak but pinning each other

Word count: so far, almost 25k but still unfinished

Warnings: use of bad language, mentions of insecurities/low self-esteem, anxiety, trauma; light use of weed, little smut if you scrutinize, SFW

Masterlist: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // ...

A/N: hi there! this one it's my first story to be uploaded, a way for me to de-stress from uni exams. I'm not a native English speaker, so please forgive any grammatical mistakes :/

As Yoongi said, you have to put your work out there to learn about it, so... feel free to give some feedback (as positive as you can, please). The story is halfway done, but as I have to proofread most of it and apply the holy Grammarly, uploading will have a normal pace

I'm not fully confident of my writing abilities or English use, but it is what it is, I guess

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CHAPTER 1: Surprises and planning

Word count: 7'1K

-Sup, loser.

-Hi

I roll my eyes while I flop into the sofa.

-I mean... I'm not asking for big parties but, you know, a little more enthusiasm when seeing your bestie wouldn’t hurt. Don’t you think?

The only answer I get is a loud exhale of air.

-Someone is susceptible today…

Min Yoongi.

We’ve been friends for maybe… 15 years? And what a ride.

We first met in high school, at the sweet age of 12/13. With all the hormonal stuff and changes going around… such a happy stage of life to remember, yikes.

We didn't have anything in common; he was an artistic soul while I considered, or I would like to consider myself, as a science girl. But little me saw too many talent shows with great singers and decided to give it a shot.

-Hi! It’s here where the choir practices?

-Yeah, here is where all the magic happens -I would’ve never expected such an ironic answer from such a cute-looking girl- Are you new or lost on your way to another place?

-New or that’s what I intend to be. I signed the paper in the hall and someone emailed me the instructions. Told me to come to Mrs Lars's classroom.

-Oh, then you are in the right place. She is in the storage room looking for the materials we’ll be needing today.

-Okay class -a sweet voice fills the room interrupting our conversation- please take a seat.

I signal the seat next to the girl asking nonverbally if it’s taken, and she answers that it's not occupied.

-So… today we have lots of new faces. Instead of having personal interviews with each of you, I thought that maybe it would be better and easier to have you join us for today’s lesson. That way you’ll see how we work, a light version of course. After I dismiss the class, as I told you in the email, please stay a little longer and perform a song of your liking. Any questions?

A boy asks if they have to stay at the auditions if they aren't new.

-If you want to, you can stay but if you prefer to leave, that's okay too. That reminds me: for the ones that aren’t new, welcome back; I'm happy to see you again. To y'all my pupils, I wish for a good and healthy year. Any other doubts?

Silence is the answer.

-Then, we’ll start.

The 60 minutes pass fast. The teacher is really fun and makes all the music technicalities more approachable to everyone in the room. We play some games to get to know each other's names while learning a little bit about music structure. 

-Well done. That’s all for today. See you next day.

A lot of students start picking up their books and bags, and I bid goodbye to Nelly, the one with a loving face and a smart mouth. She is… interesting to say the least, but also nicer than expected. 

And friendly enough to ask my dubitative ass to exchange numbers…

Now, the moment of truth: the audition. Not gonna lie, nobody here will be the next Céline Dion but they are okay. That makes me even more nervous, and it shows when my turn comes. Luckily (ironically) I'm the last one. My voice is shaky and even if I am doing terribly, they all keep a smile on their face, which I thank deeply.

Like everyone else, I don't receive any type of feedback from Mrs Lars. She just tells us the following.

-Thanks to any single one of you for showing interest in my subject. Everyone will be accepted in this class; the “audition” was just a formality to classify you in the range that fits you the best. Music is a language that unifies all humans, and even if most of them haven’t been gifted with an incredible voice or the ability to play an instrument, I won't deny the chance to learn it anyways. There’s always a role that fits you the best and I’m sure that while communication runs in both directions, we’ll have a good year. Today you saw how my class works; if you still want to join me and your classmates, the only thing needed is to send me an email by the end of the weekday to confirm it. I will reply with indications, information and advice to improve your natural talent and I want you to practise for a couple of weeks to get used to that routine and the work method. Then, you’ll be divided into groups with people who share your characteristics to work together with the things in common and have healthy feedback. Also, you can ask me when needed or use the music studios to train. I’m sure your parents will thank me -she laughs- Does that sound good?

-Yes Mrs Lars -we answer in unison.

-Ah, and also, if you don't think this is your thing and want to choose another activity, that’s okay. Not receiving the mail of confirmation I previously had talked about, will be understood as the desire to not continue. Feel free to do it if you want to; no hard feelings. This will take a lot of energy and free time, so… make sure that all the effort goes to something you like or you’ll end up despising me and music itself. Any questions or doubts?

As nobody speaks, she dismisses the class.

It took me a couple of days to decide whether I should join music or look for another option, but animated by my parents and the possibility of this helping me with my scenic fear, I choose to keep going with the idea.

Apparently, my vocal range is mezzo-soprano-contralto, which is why I have a difficult time in a higher register. Once I knew that, everything changed for me. Singing was easier and less damaging; just better. I wasn’t that good but for once I felt like my efforts were taking me somewhere.

I still needed a lot of practice, so I would usually spend some time during lunchtime (with the teacher’s permission) doing so in the rehearsal room. Unluckily, one day when I went to my usual spot, the class was already occupied by another person, so I met with my teacher to know what had happened. 

-I’m sorry sweetheart, it’s my fault. I have such a big cold that the headache is making my head pound and I can’t even think straight. Would it be inopportune if I reserve the room after class so you don’t have to skip today’s practice?

-That sounds good too.

-Okay, then I will write your name in the folder -she says reaching for it hung on the wall. She seems a little confused when looking at today’s schedule 

-Isn’t it possible? -I ask her.

-Oh no, everything is fine. Seems like I’ve already written the reservation in your name earlier. Must’ve forgotten to tell you when I did that, I guess that just in case, to offer you a resolution to this problem.

-Then, I’m noted to the main classroom after class?

-Yeah, you are good to go.

-Thank you.

As told, I went to the said place and started my warming exercises. After some scales, I tried “Million Reasons” by Lady Gaga, struggling with the highness of the bridge. I was stuck with that part for some days by then, and my frustration was almost visible in the form of smoke outing my ears.

I was on my…¿20th try? When an unknown voice scared me when the song finished.

-Well… that was…interesting.

-Fucking hell, you scared me.

-Not more than you did to me with your vocals.

-Excuse me?

-Apologies accepted.

Is a boy around my age and size. He wears rectangular glasses and a mostly black outfit, which contrasts with his pale skin perfectly. His eyes are quite small but ooze tons of coldness. He impassively walks to the piano in the corner and starts to get things out of his backpack.

-Mmm… What are you doing?

His dark orbs peer at me with a pensive aura, but he dismisses those thoughts and gives me rolling eyes.

-Practising.

-Yeah, I could have guessed that.

-I am not the one asking the stupid questions here.

-What I meant -he interrupts me by playing some notes- As I was saying -he does it again.

I approach the instrument he is in and put down the keyboard cover, giving him enough time to retract his hands. Ups his sight and boy, is a furious one.

-Are you crazy? -he shouts- You could have harmed me!

-Chst, nobody with two functional cells doing synapsis would have that bad reflexes so please, stop crying, you little baby.

-Excuse me?

-Apologies accepted -I deliver the sentence the same way he did to me, with a pompous smile on my face while I sit proudly in a nearby chair- Also, you deserve it. That’s what you get when trying to mess with me.

-Oh, was I disturbing you? Sorry, I didn't want to. I’m so distracted -what he says in a pitying tone doesn’t match the challenging look in his eyes and the smirk he isn’t even trying to hide.

-I can tell -I bark back the same way- Anyway, as I was saying before you decided to be a cretin, what are you doing here?

-Judging based on your singing skills maybe…you aren't aware that this is a music classroom? You know, where musicians do their thing -speaks ironically

-Of course I know where I am. My doubt is what are YOU doing here at this time. I made a reservation with Mrs Lars.

-Me too.

-That’s impossible.

-No, it’s not. Since I did. You must be wrong.

-No, you are -I fight a little offended.

He rolls his eyes.

-Okay. Let’s search the classroom schedule Mrs Lars keeps in her office and you’ll see your mistake -decides while clapping his hands together and getting up.

-You must mean YOUR mistake -I clarify while imitating his gestures.

I follow him to said office, where he signals to a folder hanging on the wall. He goes through it while searching for today’s schedule and once he finds it, aggressively puts his finger in the initials “M.Y”

-As I was saying, you are the one wrong -he says proudly.

-What? Those are my initials!

-No, they are not. They are M.Y. as in Min Yoongi.

-No, they are M.Y as Min Young Mi.

We look at each other kinda confused.

-I guess Mrs Lars must have committed a mistake while writing our names because of the similarities -he thinks out loud.

-You think so? -I reply as ironically as I can. He rolls his eyes.

That evening was the beginning of what we like to call “The Valerian War”. As stubborn as we were, any of us was willing to give in to the other. None offered to leave or neither changed the reservation for the evenings that followed, so we played mental resistance war, and it got so bad that we needed some valerian infusion to support the evils that we did to each other so that the other would surrender.

Some favourites were him cutting my microphone wires or playing a recording of my voice on the school’s radio for everyone to listen to. I gave back by making good use of a 2x3 glue thrift offer. I was almost sent to the other world when he had to walk back home with the piano’s bench cushion glued to his butt or with music sheets united to his hand.

Eventually, with little acts of kindness by both sides, we started to open up and help each other (he assisted me in musical stuff while I improved his anger management) and we reached the point where we were looking all day to that moment of the evening. It took almost a year and a lot of Nelly’s talks to finally admit that we enjoyed spending time together. Slowly but surely, we started meeting out of school till becoming besties. We had a lot more in common than we thought.

-Call me stupid but-

-Stupid -he interrupts me without hesitance.

-Min Yoongi, be careful with your words, I have your mom on quick dial.

-So childish that is almost sad.

-Would she think as childish that you signed a big contract with an important company and didn’t say a word to your family? I guess I can just ask her -my tone is a mockery one.

The keyboard typing stops followed by a dry laugh.

-You dirty bitch. Must be desperate to threaten me with that.

-It’s just that… I’m frustrated.

-Sexually?

-No. Well… That too. But no.

He quietly laughs.

-Maybe I can lend you a hand.

-Yeah, in my neck to cut the flow of air? -I ask acidly but then my black humour needs to make an appearance- Actually, that’s not that much of a bad idea. One lifetime occasion where I would let you commit the desire of killing me without getting angry about it; I promise.

-Mmm, kinky. If that’s what you want… -he spouts with a teasing tone and a smirk.

-What?

I’m no stranger to letting my intrusive thoughts win over me and make it aaaall the way to my mouth without realising it, so when he answers I have to replay the last section of our conversation to understand what he means.

-Ugh, you are disgusting.

-Yeah. I think how disgusting it is that I know you so well, that I am genuinely not surprised about you having a choking kink.

-I… I don’t have a choking kink -I defend myself by putting a brave face on when I actually kind of like that stuff.

-Yeah, right -he answers in a disinterested way, turning back to his computer- Just so you know…next time you try to lie as much as you are doing, tell your red cheeks to not make an appearance. It gives it away.

I take advantage of him not looking at me to raise my hands and check if they are matter-of-factly red, which are. I clear my throat in the need of changing the subject.

-Till now all you said has been really helpful, you know? -I say rolling my eyes

-Till now you still haven’t said a word about your problem, apart from your need to get laid, of course.

-The thing is that I messed badly with my boss -I purposely ignore the last sentence and he lets out a little laugh because of it.

-What makes you think that?

-It’s not something she said or did. Actually… It's my fault.

-I doubt it… but would you mind explaining? -he still has his back facing me while clicking the unwired mouse, something that will make the next thing I have to say a lot easier.

-Do you remember when you got appendicitis and had to stay at the hospital? And then when you needed help when sent home?

-How would I not remember?

-Well… The thing is that to convince my boss, which I already told you, is a hard one… I had to lie. A lot.

That seems to catch his attention because finally turns to face me.

-When you mean a lot, how much are we talking about? You said everything was okay with you taking those days off.

-I think we have already established the point that I am a ‘liar, liar, pants on fire’.

-So… What did you tell her?

-Mmmm… I knew some of my coworkers asked her for some days off because of a friend or a relative being sick, and she always rejected them except when they talked about fiancés, husbands or sons; that kind of stuff. So to make her accept my petition, I made her believe it was about my fiancé.

-You said what?

-I basically said all the truth but omitted that you are only my friend. I completely made up a story about my hardworking fiancé, who fell sick, and has no other family around than me to take care of him… It was a little white lie, but when I was back to work everyone was nice to me, even my boss.

-Why don’t you tell them that you broke up? 

-That was my plan, I swear. Buuuut, I started to talk a little bit here and there about him being an asshole, like getting ready to break the news, you know? Buuuuut that made them even nicer to me! Never knew criticising a partner would unite us that much.

-My surgery was last year…have you been lying to them for that long?

-Yeah…

-And didn’t they suspect anything when a year passed and still no wedding was in sight?

-Yes, but I explained how as we were both busy with our respective jobs, trying to save money for it, and having some trouble in our relationship… had decided to take it easy.

He seems lost in thought, with the elbows resting on the armrests of his chair and fingers brushing his chin. Then laughs, crossing his arms over his chest.

-Well, well, well. When I think that you cannot surprise me anymore, here you come.

-Yeah, really funny how this will end with me getting fired.

-Don’t be silly. They’ll never know.

-That’s what I thought till my company decided to celebrate a ball to raise funds for their project about breast cancer. And everyone expects me to bring my said fiancé to meet them.

-OMG you are such a loser.

-I don’t know why I came here expecting some support. Seems like today is not the day you want to deal with my stuff -I get a little angry because he doesn't understand how bad this is and how much I’ve been stressing the last few weeks trying to find a solution.

-Minnie, you know that’s not it -he quickly answers.

-Don’t worry. It’s my fault. By now I must have put in my mind that while you are working don’t wanna be bothered by others' banal stuff -I recollect my bag and start my way to the door.

I feel his hand wrapping around my wrist, trying to stop me.

-Stop it. I don’t wanna bother you.

He sighs and uses that hitch as a way to put me closer to him and after that, sit me again on the couch.

-Yeah, you are a pain in the ass, but even like that… you’ll never bother me when it’s about struggling with something, so… don’t say that.

-That’s how you made me feel.

-And I’m sorry about it. When it comes to words, we both know that I’m not the best to be sensitive.

-Except with your lyrics -I half-joke to reassure him. 

I feel bad to react this way because he has a life too and here I am burdening him with my problems; all because I am so weak that I drown in a cup of water.

-Yeah, except for my lyrics -says way softer.

-Ugh, I’m so messed up -I groan while hiding my face between my hands and laying back.

-Yeah, a little bit but, what are you going to do?

-What do you mean?

-I know you, so I expect you to have something in mind already -he says palming one of my knees while still sitting in his chair.

I drop my arms to my sides, tired.

-No. Well, technically yes, but not anymore.

-What?

-I had a plan but not anymore because things didn’t go the way I expected.

-How is that?

-Don’t wanna hear you say anything about “I warned you”.

-This is going to be good -he whispers loud enough for me to hear it, but after giving him a death stare, motions his mouth getting zipped and throws the key away.

-The obvious solution is to have someone pretending to be my fianceé. After wondering who would be the best option I asked Jim to fill that role because, you know, we were kinda hooking up.

-What did he say?

-Like cartoons. I was almost able to see smoke in his dashing foot.

-Told you so -whispers again with a smirk.

I want to save energy, so my only answer is to roll my eyes. It's not like I could deny it because he, in effect, told me that. 

When I started to meet Jim, equally scared of commitment as me, Yoongi warned me about how he would never be the one for me. How under the sweet gestures and amazing chemistry, we were only two people wasting time. How he could, maybe, let me down when I truly needed him. He wasn’t wrong. While explaining this whole issue to Jim, he was losing all the colour on his face because I told him that he would have to pretend to be in love. Pretend. I didn’t love him either but I was expecting the both of us to put on a little show of it.

But Yoongi knows that behind the façade I put saying that I don't want serious business, the reality is that I'm just searching for the right person to let my defences down. But to find it and as a scientist, I must do trial and error. Right?

-Then I contacted everyone in our group but all of them are occupied with close notice, and since my family is away, I can’t ask a cousin or something. Not to mention how weird it would have been -I shake my shoulders trying to shake the disgusting image of my mind.

-What about a random person or a gigolo? 

-I don’t have enough time to teach somebody the full ass history of how we fell in love or the money to pay for it. Also, I'm trying to avoid paying for another human till I'm 70 and alone, with the only company of my 5 cats. Thanks.

-That’s all?

-I started to pretend that I’m falling sick to have an excuse, but everyone seems suspicious of me. If that doesn’t work, I’m fucked up. For real. That’s my last chance.

-As I see it, that’s not your last chance. You forgot about something.

-I did?

To say that I am confused is an understatement.

-Yeah you fool -he smiles widely and reclines in his chair with crossed arms.

-I…don’t…follow you.

-Me. 

-You what? -My confusion is at the ceiling level.

-Me -He repeats with open arms- You forgot me.

Is this what I think it is?

-Stop frowning -and I do at his call- I can't believe you didn’t try to ask me.

-You are joking, aren’t you?

-No -he turns to the computer shrugging.

-Wait, wait, wait -I turn him to face me by the armrest- You, Min Yoongi, THE Min Yoongi, are offering to be my ‘date’ for an event at my workplace?

-God, don’t put it like that. But yeah, the answer is yes. I don’t know why it seems so unbelievable to you.

-I didn't ask you because: 1) I was ashamed, 2) you and I aren't precisely the most comfortable with touching or sweet words, and 3) and the main: aren’t you visiting your hometown this weekend? I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it.

-Yes, I was. But you are crazy if you think that I would let you lose your job for it.

-But you’ve worked so hard… you deserve that break.

-Listen and stop being stubborn. I know that your job is as important to you as mine is to me, not to mention that if you are in this position it is because of me. So… the fair thing is to be the one helping you out of this situation.

-You realise that we will have to pretend that we are in love, right? -I say carefully.

-I pretend that I like you every day so, I don’t think it will be that hard. 

I know he says it to make me laugh and take the iron off the matter, but I can’t help smacking his thigh while giggling. 

-What preoccupies me is you; would you be able not to fall in love with me?

We both laugh, knowing that it’s impossible.

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I’m completing my look with sparkling earrings and I look at myself in the mirror. Not bad.

I’m wearing what I consider my slutiest outfit: a baggy long-sleeve dress with a deep v-neck and which long is mid-thigh. The cloth resembles black silk but falls beautifully around my curved body, adjusting in the places it should to remark my features. I added all the sparkly accessories because they contrast greatly with my tanned skin and the dress itself, but I guess all seems blurred compared to my boobs. Those girls are looking great tonight. 

My hairstyle and makeup are a little basic, but enough to make me feel pretty.

While applying perfume someone rings the doorbell. I’m ready on time, so taking all my stuff and a false pink fur coat, I open the door.

I have to admit it, he looks stunning. Yoongi is wearing black skinny jeans with a white t-shirt tucked in, black combat boots and a green bomber jacket. All prettily completed with silver accessories and his long ginger hair slightly gelled back on the sides. My favourite look on him.

-Why aren’t you wearing high heels?

That comment is enough to get me out of my trance, but I understand it; that’s the only part of my outfit on display.

-Is bad enough to be wearing ones for the ball, so yes, thank you, I won’t be torturing myself tonight -I explain as I close my house with the key.

-You were the one who had the idea of dressing in the clothes the other likes most.

-I’m wearing everything you asked for except for the heels. Relax.

-Let me see.

-Hell no, it is freezing here. You’ll see once we get to the discotheque. C’mon.

-I don’t trust you. At all -he whispers but follows me to the taxi stop.

This is part of the amazing plan we made together on Tuesday night. Not the best idea but…it will have to do the work.

The ball is on Friday so we have a couple of days to make us believable as a couple. Tonight, Wednesday, part one is in development. We’ll go to drink (a lot) and dance in a public place and act as partners in love. Is like practice for the real situation and luckily, as I suggested, dressing in a way the other likes will make it easier to dissociate the image of best friend that we find disgusting to act in love with.

We have two days to be comfortable with holding hands, him holding me for the small of my back, me hanging into his arm, hugging and… kissing. Not fully making out, like little pecks. Or at least that’s the order both of us come together to decide as necessary to give the ‘’living in the honeymoon stage of relationship’’ vibes.

Tomorrow we will work on our love story, pet names and all that stuff. Maybe we’ll have to buy some alcohol for it too.

-Should we…maybe…start? -he asks, looking the other way.

-I think I need a couple of quick shots before.

-Thank God, me too -laughs.

I signal to a bar near us that won’t make us change our direction fully, and he agrees.

-Please, four shots of tequila -Yoongi orders to the bartender, and I am grateful for that amount.

Since I am the one using his help, I want to invite him. He gives me bored eyes and tries to take my money away from the counter, but I push him a little bit and open my coat to let my neckline on the view of the young bartender.

-Please, accept my money. You can keep the change as a tip -my voice is as sweet as I physically can and I bat my eyelashes. It works because he takes my money a little bit flustered and his only answer is a nod. I laugh to myself and close the coat again, turning to my friend, who is downing his first little vase.

I take one making cheers in the air before ingesting the hot liquor.

-You know… what you did is not fair.

-What do you mean? -I play dumb.

-You know what I mean -he says before drinking his other drink- That poor boy… I would be surprised if he doesn't end up hard as wood.

-Why is that bad? Dozens of men look at my ass or boobs without any intention on my side or dressing to “provoke” them. It’s not my fault that in this patriarchal society, women are so fucking sexualized that men think it’s okay to do it. He would have looked at them anyway if I weren’t wearing the coat so excuse me for using that in my favour instead of against me - I drink my last shot.

He looks at me kind of speechless, but after clearing his throat he says “When you are right, you are right”.

The cold air receives us in the street, but the burning sensation in our stomachs is a great contrast. We decide to go walking to the discotheque since it isn’t that far and after ten minutes of comfortable silence, I start to feel the alcohol quicking in in the form of an unexpected laugh.

-What happens? -Yoongi seems confused but laughs too.

-This situation… is ridiculous.

-I know.

-But again, thank you. You are saving me from a good one. I owe you.

-Don’t be stupid, we are best friends. You take care of me and I take care of you. That is how we have always worked and how it will always work.

-Wow, alcohol is getting into you too? You are speaking mindlessly.

-A bit. A long time has passed since I last drank something; work has been… crazy.

-Same for me. Maybe it is a good moment for…you know.

-First step?

-Yeah, first step. Are you okay with that?

-Of course.

We look at each other's hands and making a brave move, I'm the one initiating the motion. His are colder and slightly bigger but feels surprisingly comfortable to intertwine fingers and sense his even colder rings brushing with mine. That heat difference sends a shiver through my body.

It’s not like we have never held hands in other contexts. We do, for example, while walking in a street full of people or in a comforting situation and stuff like that, but it is our first time to do it without a physical or emotional need.

-How do you feel? -I ask cautiously.

-Weird, not gonna lie.

-Me too.

-But it’s not the first time we held hands and I have to say that luckily you feel warm.

-Yeah, you are freezing man -the tension weakens and we start to walk again, still hand in hand.

-I forgot my coat and when I realised I was already too far. I expected to be in a taxi and drunk so I didn’t take it so seriously. Now I’m regretting my choices.

I can’t stop a laugh and he does the same, showing a gummy smile.

-I can work with that. Grieving for my frozen-to-death fiancé is a good excuse to go to the bloody fundraiser alone.

-Then, who would listen to your nonsense anxious babbling?

-You aren’t my only friend, you know that right?

-They simply can’t compare. Even Nelly. 

-Yeah, they can’t compare because nobody reaches your level of pettiness.

-That’s what we have in common you and I, my friend.

Our bickering continues till we reach our destination, where it is time to start the practice. Reading my mind he offers his arm for me to cling to it while still holding hands; a typical pose of couples who’ve been together for some years.

-IDs? -the bouncer asks us.

Once he checks that we are above 23 (a way to only let in adults) the heat receives us when we cross the door. The decoration is beautiful and serious, way different from what we are used to.

-Everyone here seems a little off, don’t you think? -Yoongi asks me.

-Yeah, I guess the age requirement takes away the younger spirit. You know this place is for people who want to have a good night but not that “wild”.

-If this is what awaits me once I establish a serious relationship, I’m definitely staying single.

-Bold of you to assume that you’ll find someone who can keep up with your antics. It’s not like you are turning love proposals all day.

His elbow pinches at my ribs for making fun of him and I laugh.

-You are one to talk… Also, I have some game so… your words don’t offend me miss “Please help me because my ashole of a hookup can’t even pretend to be in love with me”.

-Yeah, that was because he knew that once he started pretending, it wouldn’t be pretending anymore and I’m too much of a woman for him.

-Sure -his eyes are mocking me.

-Let’s grab some drinks, stupid.

He straightly asks for a whiskey, his favourite drink, but I order a rum with coke. He offers me to taste it and I’m dumb enough to do it, gagging at the flavour.

-You have an easy gag reflex, maybe now I understand why Jim dumped your ass so easily.

-Don’t worry hun, it’s only related to alcoholic drinks and he surely dumped me but my ass felt a great loss to him -I cheer my drink with his.

He gives me an unreadable stare while swallowing the odd savoury liquor.

I hate to admit it, but he looks smoking hot tonight. I can’t put my finger exactly on what it is, but something of him making dark humour about Jim while staring at me in that mockery way and gulping whiskey like water… is entrancing. Am I that sex deprived or what?

He frowns one eyebrow trying to guess what's on my mind and just the possibility of him being able to decipher my thoughts has me blushing.

-Is hot here. I’m going to the wardrobe to leave my coat - I excuse myself while getting up from the stool.

-Want me to accompany you?

-Oh, no. Don’t worry. I don’t think it will take me that long.

I join the wardrobe queue a little anxious. Just thinking of what awaits me these days stresses me; it’s really out of my comfort zone. I take the coat for the smiley girl behind the counter to take it.

-Wow girl, you are stunning.

-Thank you, I hope my… boyfriend thinks the same -the b-word gets a little stuck in my throat.

-If he doesn’t… take him to the doctor. That would mean he has his sight damaged. Or better, come back and I’ll make sure you have a good time -she says winking and giving me a little key with a number.

-I’ll keep that in mind -I answer a little flustered and return to where Yoongi is waiting.

He is turned to face me, elbow resting on the bar and cup playing in his hand in circular motions. He eyes me up and down and licks his lips, and I have to put all the effort in me to keep walking like nothing and not choke on my air.

He must have noticed my nervous state because this time, decides to directly ask.

-Oh, I was a little shocked -I answered because… well, that is true- The girl in the wardrobe made a move on me suggesting that if my partner doesn’t like me or something, she will take matters herself to give me a good time -that is also true.

-She did?

-Yeah, why is it so hard to believe? -I am a little offended and I chug down the rest of my drink.

-Not that is hard to believe, but… Do you like girls or something now? -he seems genuinely curious, trying to assure me that anything I say next, will be well received from him.

-No, this isn’t me coming out; sadly I’m still into men. Just… is nice to have someone complimenting me even if I’m not into girls -a change in his gaze is noticeable, and that’s what makes me realise that maybe he feels like I’m implying something else that I’m not- Anyways, I thought that she was nice and a funny anecdote. Do you want anything else to drink?

I can almost see him shaking his head to get rid of whatever was going on there and nods, chugging the remains of whiskey, which makes his Adam's apple move up and down. He has a nice side profile, I’ll admit that too. 

Once we have refilled our vases, we start a little conversation about our works and how excited he is that his first mixtape is in the final steps to be published. Only the photos and the design of the cover are missing, which will be arranged on Friday morning, previous to the gala.

-I can’t believe that you didn’t let me listen to it.

-I want you to see the final product, to see the full concept like the rest.

-Still… I can’t believe that you are doing this to your very first fan. I guess from now I will have to fight with all your new fans for a little attention.

-Like you ever had it… -he smirks and I hit him in the arm.

-Maybe I should start stanning other rappers, Namjoon is doing great with his mixtape. At least he appreciates me a little bit.

-Yeah, he would appreciate having you under his sheets. Well, he and the rest of the boys of the studio.

-Don’t be silly, we are just friends.

-Yeah, because no friends in history have ever hooked up, right?

-Not me at least.

-Because you are good at friend-zoning without even noticing. It’s really fun to watch them all try to have a date with you. I will tell you more, we have a bet going on.

-What? Stop joking.

His gaze is devilish, but his face remains serious; that’s how I know that he is being honest. He funnily grins while drinking and I just blush.

-Seriously? I don’t know Yoongi, that seems fake.

-Kinda is, kinda not. At the start, when they first meet you, they, believe it or not, wanted you as something more than a friend. After some time trying and failing, they accepted that it was impossible. However, it is still a joke to make moves on you to see if you notice but I know that if you give them any signal, they would be moving their tails like the dogs they are.

-That's what the bet is about? For how long has it been going on?

.Around… I don’t know. Two years maybe?

To say that I'm speechless is an understatement.

-Who’s in that bet?

-All the group?

-Even… you?

-I guess… but I like to think of myself as a judge in all this. It wouldn’t be fair to them if I played at their level since I’m your best friend.

-Oh my god, you are so full of yourself.

-Why?

-You think you can win against the others with that dumpling-like skin and that skinny body of yours? You wouldn’t be able to handle me. Jungkook or Namjoon? Definitely.

-I would prove it to you, but once you get a taste… you can’t go anywhere else.

Scarlet cheeks are my only answer to that.

-And what’s the prize of that bet?

-Free pass with you if you want it too.

-Ugh, and you are part of that?

-Now you are the one full of herself. If I win maybe I’ll be able to trade that for some equipment my studio is missing.

-I’m not an object you can use to “trade”.

-Of course you aren’t. Of course.

He pats my head messily and I can see a glint of fun in his eyes, which in Yoongi’s language means that he feels a little tipsy. He’s not the touchy type at least he has some alcohol flowing through him.

Honestly, I know that I should be a little angry with this whole bet thing but I am not. Yes, is a little weird that all of them are in this but at the same time… I know they would never hurt me or take advantage of me in that way. Also, I have to admit that sometimes I do second checks of them because… holy cow, they seem like some greek marble-carved figurines that came to life. So.. am I the one to blame?

Not to mention how lovely and protective of me they all are; I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have had their support for whatever stupid thing I was trying or a warm hug if I needed it. I guess this thing is a friendly joke I wasn’t aware of but thanks to alcohol-induced honesty in Yoongi…I’m going to have MY fun with it.

-Now that you have told me this, who has won? You are destroying it.

-I suppose the first you flirt back to and I told you because… two years?? At this point, we all know that the bet was never going to end. Why? Now that you know, is your interest in any of those assholes?

-Maybe…

-Who? -I know this caught him by surprise.

-You will have to give me more drinks and a couple of dances to know that. Decide your strategy while my trip to the bathroom -I laugh at him and make my way to the service room.

I’m not interested in any of them, but as I said, it’s my turn to have some fun with it and poor Yoongi, he’s my first victim. We have some bond to do to look like a couple, right? Well, I will take this as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

->Chapter 2

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[mortqlprojections]

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