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melancholy-of-nadia · 10 months

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Distraction (m) | myg

title: Distraction pairing: yoongi x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; Agust D Universe (AgustDverse?) specifically in the Haegeum Universe ; Gang Leader / Mafia AU summary: After a series of circumstances leads you to be the assistant/right-hand woman of Bangkok's local thief/gang leader Min Suga, you're diligent in fulfilling your role in helping him take down Detective (& Underground Mafia Boss) Agust D. What you didn't expect in this role, was to catch your own boss reading p*rngraphic material during his free time and finding out there are consequences to distracting him. warnings: dirty talk, hair pulling, slight riding, fingering, breast play, nipple sucking, slight body worship if you squint, COCKWARMING, orgasm denial kinda, she's being punished, There's two Yoongis and Thief ver. is Suga/Yoongi while the Mafia Boss is Agust D IM PUTTING A WARNING FOR THESE MEN ARE DANGEROUS note: this is my first time ever writing a bts fic AND smut in a fic. I've written fics 10 years ago for different fandoms and i never thought I'd be doing this again but I got too stuck on this idea that I needed to LET IT OUT. shout out to my beta reader @daegudrama for beta reading and being a great supporter. Idk if I'll ever expand on this fic but here it is. FEEDBACK & Comments are much appreciated !! total word count: 3.6k drop date: july 1st 2023, 12:00pm pst CROSS POSTED ON AO3 here (honeyjamjoon is my user on there) - -

You stood at the entrance of Suga's run-down, yet aesthetically-looking office in the heart of Bangkok’s Chinatown.

After an abundance of incidents, you begun working as his assistant and right-hand woman in his underground operations to take down Asia Pacific Police Detective Agust D, who moonlights as a mafia leader on the down low. A mafia leader who looks exactly like him. Someone you used to be acquainted with at some point.

As you pushed open the ornate wooden door slightly, you found Suga lying down on the sofa, engrossed in an erotic women's magazine. His face adorned with his signature mischievous smirk as he turned a few pages. Men, you thought to yourself while trying to prevent a scoff from coming out your lips.

"Yoongi," you called out, your voice cutting through the silence of the room. Since you two were closer compared to his other men, you called out to him by his real name often.

Startled, Yoongi quickly closed the magazine and tossed it aside, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. "Hey doll, can't you knock? I was in the middle of something." Doll, his endearing nickname for you always made you feel some type of way.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you crossed my arms. "Oh, I'm sorry, Boss. I didn't know reading Playboy magazines was part of your daily agenda." you commented sarcastically, rolling your eyes in the process.

Yoongi's cheeks flushed slightly, caught red-handed by his sharp-witted assistant. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "It's...research. Yeah, research on...current trends."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his unusually flustered response. You sauntered closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, Boss, if you're done 'researching,' perhaps we can focus on more pressing matters?"

Yoongi let out a deep sigh, realizing he had been caught in his moment of leisure. "You're right, doll. Let's get down to business.” He moved from his position and straightened up his posture, all business-mode Suga once again. “What's the latest update on Agust?"

As you provided a detailed report on Agust D’s actions, you couldn't help but notice a twinkle of amusement in Yoongi's eyes. He had always been a man of few words, but his gaze held a silent appreciation for your wit and fearlessness in this line of work. Since meeting Yoongi, your professional relationship with him had always been one of mutual respect and trust, despite the dark world you both inhabited.

"You've done well, doll," Yoongi finally acknowledged at the end of your report, his voice laced with admiration. "I appreciate your dedication in doing this. This isn’t easy work, especially with so many eyes and ears working for Agust."

Your heart swelled with pride, knowing that your efforts were recognized by your boss, your leader. However, you know you can’t be feeling a certain type of way over his innocent comments. You took a step closer, your voice lowering to a whisper. "Boss, may I remind you that there are eyes and ears on you too? It's crucial to maintain a certain level of decorum and professionalism."

Yoongi's lips curled into a sly side smile, his gaze locking with yours. "You're absolutely right. We should be more careful, especially when it comes to our private activities."

Your eyes widened in realization, understanding the underlying meaning in Yoongi's words. He can’t be trying to insinuate something, right? Being the brat you are, you decided to play along with his statement . A playful grin spread across your face as you sat on the opposite side of the sofa, crossing your arms once again.

"Well, Boss, if you're looking for some 'private activities,' you could always start by hiring a proper assistant to keep you entertained."

Yoongi's eyebrows shot up, surprised by your audacity. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes as he leaned back on the sofa. "Is that so? And who would you recommend for the position?"

You pretended to ponder for a moment, "Perhaps someone who knows your every move, can anticipate your needs, and can effortlessly keep you on your toes…”

“Someone like… you?" Yoongi smirked as he leaned closer, his voice filled with mischief. Your cheeks flushed with a mix of shyness and shock that he played this far into your game. "Well, in that case, I suppose I'll have to interview you for the position."

Damn, he got you cornered. Was this a dream, you thought to yourself. Usually when you’d have playful banter with Yoongi, he’d edge you on with his words and then immediately move onto business. But right now you’re left speechless.

“Cat got your tongue?” He chuckled. Funny words coming from the same man who looked and acted like a cat himself at times.

“N-No..just.. dumbfounded.” You stumbled on your nervous response before giggling, “You got me good, Yoongi.” And this is where the game ended, or so you thought.

Yoongi locked eyes with you as he reached out and gently grasped your trembling hand. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, causing your breath to hitch. He tugged your hand gently, coaxing you to move closer to him.

"Doll," he said softly, his tone laced with a mix of authority and tenderness. "There's no need to get so shy around me all of a sudden."

Feeling a mixture of panic and excitement, you allowed Yoongi to guide you closer until you stood right in front of him. In a swift yet gentle motion, Yoongi pulled you onto his lap, your legs straddled him. Your heart pounded in your chest as you found yourself nestled against him, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist.

Yoongi's voice, now filled with a soothing warmth, resonated in your ear. "You may act bratty and shy, doll, but I can see through your facade. I know you're into this” He used one hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, “And I'm more than happy to oblige."

Your eyes widened, breath catching in your throat at his bold words. Yet, you couldn't deny the exhilarating truth behind them. A mix of embarrassment and desire coursed through your veins as you looked into Yoongi's eyes, your own filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing. You’ve been waiting for a moment like this for so long, but it felt silly to even believe it could happen one day. Let alone on a day where you catch Yoongi looking at porn. Sounds too good to be true.

In that moment, Yoongi tightened his hold on you and gently lifted you up a little. He glanced at you wholly, taking in the sight before him. He had always thought you were beautiful since the first day you encountered him in the night market while he was being chased by Agust D’s men. He too, didn’t imagine he’d have you to himself, but somehow the sexual frustration of not having time to pleasure himself pushed a button in him to try to make a move.

He continued his movements by sliding his hands above your waist, approaching the peaks of your breasts. The soft touch sent shivers down your spine, and a blush crept across your cheeks. He looked at you to see if you were okay with moving further, to which you locked eyes with him and nodded your confirmation.

He began fondling your breasts slowly, tracing patterns of desire along your trembling flesh. His large hands on you felt so good it elicited soft gasps of pleasure from your lips. But you craved more. You wanted to feel him closer, and it seemed that he felt the same. He moved his hands to unbutton your sleeveless button front shirt from the top to bottom and then removed the garment completely.

Under the shirt revealed a white floral lace bra with a cute pink ribbon in the center. "You know, doll," he murmured, his voice husky with desire, "Your bra is surprisingly cute." The sudden comment from Yoongi made your cheeks flush even more with a mix of embarrassment and pride. “It contrasts your workaholic demeanor. It’s nice to see a new side to you.”

Flushed and with a playful glint in your eyes, you mustered the courage to break free from your momentary shyness. With a teasing smile, you looked at Yoongi and whispered, “Shut up and just keep going,”

To which he smirked up at you and did just as you commanded. He went ahead and removed your bra, exposing your breasts to the slightly colder room temperature causing your nipples to pebble slowly. Yoongi groaned, squeezing your breasts together, and sucked a nipple between his lips.

Mesmerizing sounds left your mouth when he flicked your nipple with his tongue and gently bit down. His tongue swirled around your sensitive areola, teasing it to a stiff peak as he cupped and massaged your other breast with one hand. Holding yourself steady with your fingers weaved through his pretty, long dark hair, you leaned back and arched your chest in toward his face.

You craved more besides these touches to your delicate breasts, but fearing changes in your ‘boss and right-hand man’ relationship with Yoongi had you hesitating further. You moved your hands to the top of his shoulders to push him away from your chest. “Maybe we shouldn’t keep going, Yoongi.” You looked at him, before deciding to look away and continue speaking, “We’ve been focused on taking down Agust D, and if we do this… it might get in the way of our goals.”

Yoongi let out a deep chuckle, “You know goals are one thing, but you think I haven’t noticed the way your body language radiates when you’re around me.”

Your eyes widened, “W-What do you mean?” You weren’t being that obvious about these underlying work crush feelings, have you?

“The way you carry yourself when we tease each other? When you sway your ass in your little skirts to get me riled up?” He lifted a brow up inquisitively, hands drawing circles on your thighs to carry his point home. “I know you too well to know you want this too.”

You scoffed, “Hah? Yoongi, I think all the porn mags and hentai mangas you’ve read during your free time has gotten to your head.” You cupped his face with your small palms (in comparison to his large hands) and looked at him intently. “Maybe it’s time to ease up on that, sir.”

“I’m serious, doll.” He grabbed your hands away from his face and stared harshly, “I'd rather have you in my arms, feeling your warmth against me, than flipping through those Playboy magazines during my free time."

Literally, no words could release from your lips. You’re just awestruck that this carefree man who threw witty and sarcastic remarks on a daily basis could have conjured such a confession to you. You found it endearing in a way, knowing his exterior is just a facade and inside lies a compassionate soul named Min Yoongi.

At this moment, you decided to surrender, allowing yourself to be consumed by the passion growing between the two of you. Embraced in the untamed fire that blazed in Yoongi's eyes. “Then, keep going. Waiting to see how you’ll keep me entertained.”

Quickly, Yoongi's lips descended upon yours, the kiss ignited an unknown sensation inside of you. The taste of anticipation lingered in the air as your mouths melded together in a fervent fight. His lips, soft yet demanding, explored every contour of yours, coaxing forth sighs of pleasure that escaped each others’ entwined breaths.

Feeling a bit assertive, you gently bit his lips as a signal for him to allow your tongue to intertwined with his, to which he smiled and let you in. Both your movements synchronized, a blend of dominance and tenderness. However, which each stroke of his tongue, he claimed your mouth, marking you as his own in a surge of possessiveness that sent shivers cascading down your spine.

As your bodies pressed closer, the intensity and eagerness to have him inside you grew. You once again let your fingers find solace in the soft strands of Yoongi's hair, tugging a bit which he responded to with a groan. Breaths mingling with the heady mix of desire that filled the room. Your hips meet Yoongi’s hard cock, visibly straining against his demin jeans, as you begin lightly grinding against him, needing to relieve yourself of this feeling blooming in your abdomen.

However, unbeknownst to you, Yoongi had other plans in mind. He suddenly held down your thighs to prevent you from moving further. You whine at him, frustrated.

“Doll, I’m not gonna fully give you what you want right now.” The mischievous glint in his gaze betrayed his desire for retribution. He saw an opportunity to playfully punish you for catching him indulging in the guilty pleasure of his magazine. “Since you interrupted me earlier, I’m only going to let you sit on my cock as punishment. No riding.”

“Are you serious right now–” You paused, Yoongi lifting an inquisitive brow up in response. If you kept arguing with him, his stubborn self will deprive you of everything at this moment, his desires be damned. The thing you didn’t need right now was for him to command you to watch him jerk off or leave the room and go find someone else to fulfill his needs. “...Fine, Boss. Your wish is…my command.” You sighed, gripping his shoulders.

“Condom?”

“No, it’s okay. I take birth control.” He eyed you intently. “NOT for what you think. I take it to regulate my cycle.” You responded, annoyed while he chuckled. Not like you had the time to be fucking people left and right in this high stakes job you had. You take your role very seriously, mind him.

He lifted you so he’s able to lift his own hips up to pull his pants down. He pulled his dick out and you stared at how it sprung up against his stomach, almost to full hardness already. It’s so thick and fat, you thought to yourself. You had imagined how he’d look underneath his clothes, but your thoughts never compared to the [reality of his] pale pink dick with small drops of precum at the top of the head. Yoongi took note of your glances and exhaled harshly. He slid his hands up your thighs to the hem of your skirt and pulled it to where your pink striped panties came into his sight.

“You’re seriously so cute, you know that?” You mumbled a shut up as your cheeks reddened from his continued compliments. He pushed your panties to the side, placing two fingers teasingly at your entrance, collecting the wetness that you already displayed. "Do you need to be prepped more? Or can you take my cock without it?" He locked eyes with you as he slipped his two fingers easily in, quickly causing your walls to tighten around his digits.

“I-It’s fine, Yoongi,” You moaned his name quietly. You knew you were wet enough from the previous motions that you could do without it. “Just put your dick inside me already so we can call it a day.." He raised his eyebrows at your commanding attitude. "P-Please..”

Chuckling, he pulled his fingers out and grabbed your hips again. He took his throbbing dick in his hand and lined it up to your entrance. He sunk you down, slowly taking him in inch by inch, the thickness stretched you out more than you expected. You moaned out as quietly as you could, still struggling to fit all of him inside you. Yoongi kept a hand on your hips to guide you down, while the other caressed your back in reassurance.

"Keep going, love." Love? A new nickname? "You’re doing great." He praised, while trying his best to hold in beautiful sounds of his own.

With his encouraging words, you took a deep breath and moved down until your pussy had swallowed him whole, his head right against your cervix. "Just right…you did it," Yoongi cooed. He cupped your cheeks and made you look at him. "How does this feel?"

You’re starting to lose composure already, "I-It feels g-good…" you stammered, dragging out the last word while letting your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Great, but..” He stretched out to grab the D-Grayman vol 22 manga lying around on the table “Don’t you dare move. I’m gonna read."

“I can’t believe you… you sick, sick man.” His laughter rolled through him, which involuntarily created a ripple of pleasure building within your cunt, a warmth growing again and spreading through your every nerves. Besides the fact that his warm cock was snug within you, filling you more completely than a dildo of yours could ever, you couldn't recall another moment where you’ve felt so content. While at first you were scared of crossing a line in your relationship, you can’t deny this feels just right.

He wrapped his right around your waist, while using his left to hold his book and flip the pages. Perks of having big hands, you wonder what else they could do. You laid your head on his right shoulder, eyes slowly squeezing shut. Maybe you should take a nap.

However, while Yoongi seemed to be nonchalant and relaxed, he was struggling a lot more than you to not say fuck this and fuck you roughly in a cowgirl position. Because just as you were relaxing, suddenly his cock fucking twitched. You gasped, your cunt clenching involuntarily and wrapping tighter around his length. A shiver shot up your spine as you instinctively pushed back on him, taking him even deeper into you from a higher angle.

“Yoongi, I swear..”

“Sorry. That was on me, doll.” He went back to reading before adding on a few minutes later, “I’m tempted to fuck you, but I’ll save it for another time. If I give in now, I’ll probably want to fuck you everywhere and anywhere we go. Want to teach you a lesson.”

“Yoongi!” Your eyes widened and you smacked his back. He chuckled lowly. Pisces men really are lowkey sex freaks. You don’t know what you’d do if this man asks you if he can tie you up with ropes or vice versa. Let’s hope he’s just into vanilla shit for the sake of your sanity,

For the rest of the time, he stayed true to his word and remained resilient. At some point, you drifted off to dreamland, feeling so comfortable and cozy sitting on his dick. You faintly felt a kiss on your temple, though you’re not sure if you dreamed it, or if Yoongi actually did it. You didn’t bother thinking too much about it now.

The next thing you know, you woke up later that afternoon, laying down on the sofa with a blanket covering you. You glanced around to find Yoongi, but he was nowhere in sight. You checked your phone on the table and saw text messages from 35 minutes ago

Yoongi: Hey doll, got a call from joon saying he found the drug operation Agust D is hiding above that one good noodle shop in chinatown. I had to go with him and some of the guys ready to bust it down. I’ll be sure to to get you a bowl of noodles when I’m done.

Yoongi: Extra beef and very spicy, right?

God, you’re actually gonna fall in love with this man. He really does pay attention to the little details about you more than you realized.

You text back knowing he’s probably not going to be back for a bit longer.

Y/N: Yes pls! Don’t forget to bring some chopsticks.

Yoongi: 👍

Not long after, before the sun sunk underneath the horizon, he arrived back to the office holding a bag of take-out food from Asian Beef Noodle shop. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We got everything taken care of.”

Your eyes lit up with admiration as you sat up on the couch, your lips curling into a grateful smile. "Great job, boss."

Yoongi's gaze softened as he placed the tray of noodles on the coffee table in front of you. He took a seat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. "I appreciate your support, doll. So, I brought these noodles as a small peace offering."

"You're forgiven, I suppose,” You chuckled, voice filled with soft warmth. “Noodles are easily the best way to my heart."

Your playful comment sent a spark of anticipation through Yoongi. He grinned, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Well, I’ll make it up to you later, for being so good. Look forward to tonight," he whispered, his voice laced with a sultry tone.

Your cheeks flushed at the promise in his words, your gaze meeting his with a mixture of desire and excitement. “You’re making me embarrassed,” you sighed, replying further with a sultry voice with anticipation. “But, you better not disappoint. I’ll leave your side!” You joked, both of you laughing at the silliness of this conversation

Despite the fluttering emotions from earlier reawakening from his words, you two continued to share a comfortable silence, the aroma of the noodles filling the air. With a newfound sense of closeness, you two dug into the delicious meal, savoring the flavors and basking in the afterglow of their earlier passion. It was a moment of shared contentment, where the chaos of both your lives momentarily faded away, leaving only the warmth of connection and comfort of each other's presence.

#yoongi x reader #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #min yoongi #suga x reader #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #haegeum #daechwita #agust d universe #yoongi smut #bts smut #agust d

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writtenbynamu · 10 months

Text

Dickmatized

Myg X black reader

Tags/warnings: HAEGEUM! (Yoongi), mentions of human trafficking, talks of s/a (not by Yoongi, doesn’t actually happen), violence, degradation, rough, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), choking, daddy kink, perjury, reader is weak in the knees

Word count: 3.4k

Minors DNI

Your legs are crossed, right over left; back rigid as you try to maintain your composure. To anyone else in the room, your behaviour would have seemed normal. After all, women crossed their legs all the time out of habit or politeness. It was nothing out of the ordinary….or it wouldn’t have been if your legs had been crossed for any other reason that to quell the throb budding in your underwear.

You were better than this. You were a strong, independent woman. You were one of the two partners of Park & Min. A lawyer, a ridiculously good one at that; with one foot in the underground crime syndicate and the other on the necks of every prosecutor in Seoul. In this city, your name had to hold weight for you to survive…and yours was heavy enough to burden tongues. You made sure of it.

You had spent years getting your shit together, yet somehow, all it took was one look from him for you to fall apart.

You had first met Agust back when you were nothing but a decoy for the Itaewon dragons. The Itaewon dragons were one of the most feared gangs in Seoul, run by one of the most unassuming men you’d ever met. They sold everything from party drugs to cocaine to people. That’s where you had come in.

“Are you sure you want to do this noona?” The man before you asked as soon as the door shut. “You could get stabbed, or shot, or raped…oh my god this could end so fucking badly”

His teeth worried at his lip, the metal of his piercing hit against his teeth but he didn’t notice. He never did when he got anxious.

You tutted at him and walked over to where he stood. You looped a hand around his neck, urging him to look down at you and used your thumb to pull his bottom lip from between his teeth.

“Breathe Bun,” you said gently, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

His shoulders sagged and he dropped his head into your shoulders. He took a deep breath, shuddering a bit when he exhaled.

“ I don’t want to do this noona, I don’t want any of this. I just want to go back to art school” he said with a whine, a petulant pout on his lips. You resisted the urge to coo at him.

“I know bun, but it’s only for a little while hm? Just until your hyung gets back right?”

“Mhm hm” he mumbled, not ready to lift his head from the comfort of your warmth.

“So just let Noona do this so you can get it out the way in time to finish your project hm?”

He sighed against you and wrapped his hands tighter around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Time was going, but he needed the tactile comfort to ground him and so you let him have it for a few more minutes.

“Okay, now put your poker face on and let’s go do a drug heist Kook”

The plan was simple. You, Jungkook and the other dragons were supposed to meet up with some lackeys from D Town who had been interested enough in the “sexy foreigner” they had seen Jungkook parade around with to strike a deal with their mortal enemies. 15 kilos of pure white booger sugar for one night with you is what they offered.

It was insulting to think that they thought you had fallen for such a ruse.They knew that Seokjin wouldn’t have fallen for it, that’s why they waited until Jungkook had taken the reins. Jungkook might have been younger and less experienced, but he was no fool.

You would meet them and the specified location, demand a show of the product and then when they asked for you in return, the dragons would kill them and take the coke. It was foolproof, or at least it had been until the sky decided that it was the perfect time to burst and started to rain.

The dragons had the D town boys surrounded, guns drawn and pointed right at their heads. The sudden downpour had thrown everyone off-kilter and in the blink of an eye, you had found yourself with a knife to your throat and a gun pressed to your hip.

“LET HER GO YOU FUCKING PIECES OF SHIT”

Jungkook yelled over the clap of thunder that rolled overhead.

“ONE MORE STEP AND I KILL THE BITCH AND YOU” the man screamed.

Jungkook froze in his spot a glare on his face to conceal the dread he truly felt about the situation.

The man started backing away with you in tow only to freeze when he bumped into a hard chest. The smell of newports and the tiniest hint of…tangerine? Hit you both at the same time and you felt the man holding you start quivering.

“Having a bit of fun without me Jaehyuck?” came a low, deep voice; words gravely as if he hadn’t spoken all day.

“N-no Ag- n-no sir” he replied, hands trembling so much that he dropped the knife

“Really? Because it looks to me like you stole my product and tried to buy someone with it…” he spat.

The heel of his boots clicked on the paved rooftop as he circled the man holding you.

“What are my two rules Jaehyuck?” He asked, no demanded.

“N-never involve w-women and children s-sir”

“Now unless I’ve completely lost sight in my right eye and my left one has decided to start playing tricks on me… that’s a woman you’re holding…is it not?”

The man let go of you immediately, falling to his knees to plead with the man looking down at him with utter disgust.

You should have grabbed the coke and run over to Jungkook while they were both distracted, but you just couldn’t look away from your dark saviour.

You watched enthralled as he reached into the pocket of his coat, and you braced yourself for him to take out a gun of some sort; only to be confused when he pulled out a pair of red chopsticks instead.

The man seemed to recognize the utensils though, in fact, he seemed terrified of them.

“Beg for forgiveness.” Said the scarred man.

“I’m so s-sorry s-“

“Not from me you imbecile, from her”

To his credit, the man did beg for your forgiveness with so much sincerity and desperation that you almost felt sorry for him. But Scarface didn’t care. He used his chopstick on Jaehyuck in ways you had never seen before, ways you hadn’t known were possible. It should have scared you, but you had never felt more intrigued by a singular person in your entire life .

And when he was done, he held his chopsticks out so the rain could wash them off, bowed to you and offered you the coke as an apology (not that you weren’t going to take it either way) and turned to leave.

“Wait! What’s your name?” You asked, a bit winded from the adrenaline pumping through your veins

“Agust” he said “Agust D”

🥢🥢 🥢

“Agust” (as you came to know later)had been in the process of taking over the D- boys when you had your little run-in with them. He was keen on changing the way things worked in the gang, determined to make sure his rule was never questioned or contested. Killing Jaehyuck for not only undermining his authority but threatening to jeopardise the partnership he had been working to establish with the dragons through Jin was his first step in doing so.

Now, 5 years later, Agust had the largest cities in Korea, Seoul included, trembling under the weight of his thumb. He had long since created an alliance with the dragons and went on to take over when both Jin and Jungkook wanted out.

He owned almost everything and everyone. What were once periodic whispers of his name became incessant screams, loud enough that everyone knew it.

Still, very few people knew what Agust looked like. Sure they knew his name, knew who he was but he rarely showed his face in public, the threat of his existence was potent enough that he didn’t have to.

Still, in Seoul, walls could talk and they loved to gossip. And so everyone knew that “Agust D '' had a scar over his right eye and could kill people with his bare hands and a pair of chopsticks. August’s favourite part of his partial anonymity was the theories about how he got his scar. Some say he got it in an underground fight, others said he had been cut with glass in prison and the truly bold suggested that he had done it himself. They were all wrong, but they were fun to listen to.

When Agust did show his face, it was usually in a setting like you were in right now. A conference room full of lawyers being debriefed on his latest transgressions and how they would be expected to handle it, had he ever gotten caught.

The funny thing about Agust is that no matter who he bought or for how long he bought them, he never recruited a police officer or any member of the judiciary at all for that matter. He loved the rush he got from winning a trial simply because he had a good legal team; that he had you on his team. He liked knowing that he could win fair and square There was something so fascinating…so attractive about the way that you made an airtight case against the prosecution, how you played the jury like a puppet master in your… in his favour.

To this day, you had only lost once, a petty crime charge of aggravated assault for one of the boys. It should have rolled off your back because he, like almost everyone you represented, had been guilty. But there was something about the way Jisoo looked at you in that courtroom as if she knew she had won before the trial even began, as if she was better than you that fueled your thirst to be the best lawyer Seoul had ever seen, even if just out of pure spite.

🥢🥢🥢

There was something about the way Agust could command a room that made you feel hot all over. There was something about the way he spoke, calm, collected, controlled as if words were nothing but a nuisance to him and he had made them his bitch.

His presence filled any room no matter how big or small it was and his demeanour was enough to make even the most insolent of individuals sit with their backs straight. Fuck, he made you feel the need to sit straight.

You tried to pay attention as he spoke, but your mind could only focus on how his plump lips wrapped around his words. How his tongue darted out at intervals to wet his lips, how his fingers twirled the chopsticks he held between them as he paced the room. You couldn't help but stare at his hands, hands that had done unspeakable horrors to scores of people, hands that had dealt unspeakable pleasures to you.

You’ve officially zoned out. You hear no words, no shuffling of paper; your brain blocks out everything that isn’t Agust or your memories of him so much so that you don’t realise that the meeting is over until the heavy double doors bang shut. Almost instantaneously, the smell of cigarettes wafts towards you and you look up to see him standing beside you.

You swallow thickly.

“How was the meeting Y/N?” he asks you, taking a long, slow drag from his cigarette.

“Good.” you lied “It was good.”

“Hm,” he hummed. “ So what do you think Dongshik’s chances are on that murder charge?”

You clear your throat. “ I have full confidence that Jimin can get the charges dropped or at the very least, get him out on bail” you reply carefully, praying you didn’t sound as unsure as you felt.

Agust chuckled before spinning you around in your chair to face him and leaning over you so that your faces were mere inches apart.

“Good try baby, but “Dongshik” is one of your paralegals, not one of the dragons. The only crime he’s committing is wearing that God-awful fake Dior cologne.”

Shit.

“What's got you so distracted, hm pretty girl?” he asked, running his left index finger along your jaw.

Your breath hitched. “N-nothing, I’m just a little tired,” you replied, clenching your thighs together.

Agust narrowed his eyes at you, his mouth forming a straight line. Unamused. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before he puts it on one of the ashtrays on the long table.

He looks you up and down, gazee burning against your skin as his eyes rake over you, arms crossed against his chest.

“You know better than to insult my intelligence like that don’t you Y/N?” he asks, clearly not expecting an answer.

He grabs your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him “ You think I couldn’t see you squirming? That I couldn't see you clench those thighs for all they’re worth?”

His eyes were intense, just like everything else about him was but you fought defiantly to maintain eye contact with him.

“ I did no such thing” you retorted, much to his displeasure. He scoffed.

“You’re such a brat you know that? Such a big fucking brat.” he said shaking his head. “Stand up.”

You don't move, much to his annoyance.

He takes a deep breath and brings his right hand down to your throat, not squeezing hard enough to hurt, but applying enough pressure to get your heart racing and to know how serious he was.

“I’ll say it again once. Stand. Up.”

You obey this time, looking up at him as you rise from your seat, hand still wrapped snugly around your neck.

He releases you once you’re completely upright on your feet and sits in your chair. He taps the space on the table in front of him and you take the hint and sit.

He runs his hands up and down the length of your thighs and your legs part almost on instinct. He gets a view of your underwear, the dark red in the centre from how wet you were and hisses.

“See why you shouldn’t lie to me, baby? Because no matter what you come up with in that pretty little head of yours, your body will always tell me the truth, hm?”

He hikes your pencil skirt up to your waist and pushes your thighs further apart and your body arches towards him on instinct. He brings his head down to kiss at the sensitive skin and you barely hold back a scream when he sinks his teeth into your soft flesh. He runs his tongue over the bite and you whine. He pulls away to look up at you

“What kind of behaviour is this hm? The big bad Y/N making such a mess on this table? Aren’t you a bit embarrassed to be reacting like this hm? Dripping all over me as if I didn’t fuck you senseless just yesterday.” he says bringing a hand to your core and pulling your underwear to the side.

You roll your hips forward and resist the urge to bring your hands to cover your face because he was right. He did fuck you senseless less than 24 hours ago, but Agust was more addictive than any combination of drugs he sold. He was toxic, mean…evil if you were to consider anything he did with your moral compass…but you needed him. He might have been cruel to everyone and everything else, but he was good, so, so good to your pussy.

He pushes a finger into you, the cool metal of his ring grazing against your walls. He adds another and your eyes roll back and your head falls back. He starts pumping his fingers in and out of you, your wetness making obscene noises as you clench around his digits. The pressure builds up in your pussy embarrassingly quickly and your orgasm is so close you can practically taste it. You roll your hips forward to meet every thrust of his fingers urging him to go faster. And of course, in the most Agsust fashion ever, he slows down.

He pulls his fingers out of you, your juices running down to his palm and he meets your eyes as he licks them both. The sight is obscene and incredibly hot and it sends you surging forward to put your lips on his.

The kiss is a desperate tangle of tongues and the occasional clashing of teeth. It's wet and messy and it makes every nerve ending in your body stand on edge. Your hand makes its way around his neck and you pull away from him.

“I need you to fuck me,” you say simply. Chest heaving against the silk of your blouse, three buttons somehow missing from the expensive top.

He glares up at you and rips your hand from his neck.

“I don't take fucking orders from you” he spits as he flips you over on the table, face down and ass towards him. “But I'll give it to you just this once, and only because I want to feel you cum on my dick”.

With that, he pulls your underwear down and pushes into you in one go, ripping a scream from your throat as your walls struggle to accommodate him. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust before he starts thrusting into you. His pace is rough and punishing and you can't help the moans that escape you.

“Youre so fucking tight every. Single. Time.” he groans, punctuating his sentence with his thrusts.

He grabs onto your braids, pulling your head back so he could push his tongue into your mouth. His hips start moving impossibly faster, and you can do nothing but moan brokenly against his lips.

He brings his hand down to your clit and rubs it, and your eyes blow wide open and you scream.

“Yoongi please.” you beg.

His hips stuttered in shock.

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

Your eyes widen as you realise what had slipped out of your mouth. Agust had told you his real name years ago but you had never used it. Sure you had practised the way it felt on your tongue in secret but you had never felt brave enough to say it.

“I’m s-sorry,” you say in between moans

“Don’t apologize- fuck it sounds so good when you say it.” he moans out, picking his pace up once more “ Say it again.” he demands “ tell me who this pussy belongs to baby”

“YOONGI!” you scream, tears streaming freely down your face “ It’s all yours Yoongi please”

“That’s right. Thats fucking right” Yoongi replies. “I can feel you clenching around me, do you want to cum baby?”

“Fuck yes, Yoongi please let me cum” you begged.

Yoongi gives you one last particularly hard thrust and your entire body convulses as your orgasm washes over you.

“That’s it, baby, cum for daddy.” he guides you as he slows his thrusts down to barely their pace as you come apart around him.

His orgasm follows yours almost immediately and he spills into you, sending a combination of your juices running down your legs.

He runs his hand along your back as you go limp against him, recovering from your high and places a gentle kiss on your forehead and he pulls your underwear back up.

🥢🥢🥢

As rough as Yoongi is with you whenever you have sex, his gentleness after the fact always negates it.

As bad as Yoongi was for you, he simply made you feel too good.

Deep down, you knew Yoongi loved you in his own twisted way, and you loved him too. But neither of you was willing to admit that out loud. Instead, what existed between you was an unspoken agreement of ownership. You were Yoongi’s just as much as he was yours.

Of course, you saw something more with Yoongi than just fucking him, and it would b unfair to say that was all your relationship was.

Maybe you would've brought it up if you weren't so enthralled by him. If you weren’t so distracted every time he touched you.

Yoongi was everything you did not tolerate, and yet you tolerated him so well.

Yoongi was nothing but death, sex and bad vibes.

Maybe you were insane.

Or maybe you were just dickmatized.

#agustd #yoongi smut #bts x black girl #bts x black reader #bts smut #agust d smut #this is my first post please be nice #haegum #HAEGEUM Yoongi #Spotify

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soraviie · 1 year

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maniac.oneshot

━ type: yoongi x f! reader ━ masterlist ━ word count: 3k

━ about: He comes here to look for medicine. Here in this scornful embrace of yours.

━ c/w: violence, blood, patching someone up, stitches, needles , absolutely unhinged, obsessive Yoongi + (sort of) morally grey reader; she doesn't like him much

━ leave a comment and show this fic some love otherwise I'll steal your food. If you like my work and want to tip, here's my ko-fi. Thank you so much if you do!

There’s a quiet rapping at the window pane that doesn't come as a surprise. It’s well dark outside, some ungodly minute after three in the morning. You know who it is.

You hope he leaves.

You hope he just disappears and that once he does breathing will become a bit easier.

But since it is him, you should have known that such a simple, soft thing as silence wouldn’t be enough of a deterrent.

Hearing the unsubtle “shit!” and a loud, body like thud crashing against the blue glazed tiles of your god-awful kitchen, you flinch beneath the covers, weighing the option of just ignoring yet another visit of his. Two years of his indulged insanity, of his rotting hands infecting everything he brushed past.

Two years of him rotting you whole.

And who wouldn't be sick of that? Day and night going around and around, and around?

But if you knew Yoongi at all, you also knew the fact he’d make your night a living hell. He’d all but drag you out of this bed by your ankles if that's what it'd take to get your attention.

So who was this man — Min Yoongi?

With a sigh and eye roll, you push the twin duvets off, yearning for their warmth in the otherwise chilly air.

Min Yoongi was a thief, a killer, always choosing violence, face so pretty with heart so hard you'd think he was stone-carved, and, unfailingly, unflinchingly —

You pad towards the kitchen door finding him laughing deliriously on the tiled floor, blood spilling all over his beaten mouth.

— insane.

“Why did you fix your window?” he whines in a sort of tone of voice that should not be admissible to anyone within his line of…work. But Min Yoongi could get away with it because he could get away with anything. Murder. Mayhem. His vile, repulsive nature.

“I broke it so perfectly. Could slip in an’ out. Like butter.”

“Maybe that’s why I fixed it,” dryly, you respond, crossing your arms around the chest. Thankfully, the fluffy bathrobe is covering enough.

“And by the end of the night you’ll have two fucked up windows,” he says, throwing a thumb back at the damage. The hinges are completely broken, letting in torrents of frigid air. “Is that so much better?”

“What the fuck you want?”

“Jesus, can’t a man get some lovin’ anymore round these parts?” he rolls his eyes, gliding a tongue over his battered lips. “Need you to work your magic, darling.”

“Get your magic at the corner,” you throw your head in the general direction of the main street, staring derisively as he once again makes himself at home in your kitchen. Rifling through cupboards and your fridge like he owns it. In his mind he does. He owns this apartment, someday he’ll own the southside gang and, more importantly, he owns you. Not in some distant, probable future, no. Here. Now.

At least in the sick, fucked up world of his.

“Why don’t you ever have anythin’ good in?” he pokes his head into the fridge, flicking a finger at the aged milk bag only to let the doors fall shut with a dragged out sigh of discontent. As you continue to stand, hovering disinterestedly in the doorway, his eyes find yours, lighting up in childish, deeply unsettling amusement.

“You jealous?”

“If someone would shoot you in the fucking head right now, I’d go to a club.”

“You like clubs that much?”

“Fucking hate them.”

Had anyone in this entire side of the city that's dying like an infected roadkill would see you badmouthing Min Yoongi, The Min Yoongi who stabbed a guy with a pair of chopsticks and ate with them not an hour later, they’d revere you as some kind of insanely hardened criminal but you knew something they did not. Oh, how he enjoyed you being harsh towards him. It drove him buck wild. He got off to your contempt and as long as he did, you were safe. He comes here to look for medicine. Here in this scornful embrace of yours as paradoxical as it sounds. In these four, discrete walls, an act of reckless bravery was actually nothing but sheer cowardice. You knew it and Yoongi knew it, hence why every time he broke into your apartment, over and over, and over, and over again, it always felt like coming home.

Or so he said.

The soles of his shoes scuff against the floor as he comes to stand before you, your nose immediately itching with the acrid smell of a cigarette smoke. He always had some accursed cheap brand that got everywhere and soaked up into fabrics like liquid. Words didn't describe how much you hated it.

“Come on,” he goads you on, leaning down to your eye level with a wicked grin. “Isn’t it a doctor's duty to treat everyone in need? Your boy's very much in need,” smugly, he spreads his arms, spinning around so you can inspect the damage. Your tongue just burns to scorn that he can’t be fixed, he can’t be treated with anything else other than death but even you wouldn’t go that far.

Tonight’s damage, however, did go quite over the lines. His face is busted, there’s a faint limp in the already off way he moves and the back of his jacket has a long slash akin that of a carving knife. Even if it didn’t cut up his spine, there’s no way the flesh underneath it laid unharmed.

“Didn’t you give that hypocritic oath?”

“It’s hippocratic,” sharply, you correct but naturally it only broadens the curve of Yoongi's smile. “And veterinarians don’t give those, you dumb shit!"

Almost instinctively, his head tips backwards. Shuddering, he groans with a deep sigh of content underneath the pale blue lights of your home.

"Fuck, how I like that temper of yours."

"I should just kill you."

But the threat is measly and Yoongi only chuckles hearing it. Pulling a chair out, he comes to sit down upon it, feigning some kind of obedience as he gazes up at you, expectantly. He’s waiting for you to fix him, for you to “kiss it all better” as he put it. As if the skin on your hands didn’t burn just by grazing him.

“Oh, come on,” he tugs at the end of your bathrobe belt, nimble fingers working their way up to the knot. You slap them away. “You lick my wounds, I lick yours.”

“I don’t have any wounds,” you grumble but for some unknown reason you give in, making the move to retrieve your first aid kit. He used it so much, by now you had to replace it thrice.

You didn’t have to, a quiet voice at the far reaches of your skull interject. You could have just run out and let it be the end of that.

“Yeah, sure,” you hear him snort under the breath.

But since you hate that voice, you don’t listen to it and mindlessly push the whole of blame onto him. He wouldn’t just shove off if you told him you had no tools. He’d just bring his own. The man did systematically break down the security on your bedroom window for the sole reason of annoying you in the middle of the night. Yoongi doesn't just leave. He’s like a ghost that way, endlessly haunting you on.

By now the routine is somewhat rehearsed, he moves his head where he must, doesn’t so much as wince when the peroxide hits the mangled flesh. As he peels of his shirt, spouting some bullshit about you being excited that ends in a sharp hiss as you clean it, your suspicions are proven correct. There is a gash all over his back. Not so deep that you couldn’t mend it but enough to leave a crusted up trail behind. You clean it nicely and add a generous amount of medical tape. Normally you’d tell someone to take it easy and not strain the place of injury but it’s Yoongi and in less than fifteen hours, he’ll be either going on another raid with his cronies or dunking some poor soul underneath the waterline. Such was his nature.

You tip his head to face the ugly light of the overhead lamp, frowning as you do. Instead of the wide, even…innocent looking eyes Yoongi gives you, you focus on the wound on the side of his head.

“A bat?” you hum and he blinks, appearing to only now remember all about it.

“Oh, yeah, a lowlife piece of shit swung at me. Real nasty.”

He laughs.

You don’t see what’s funny about that.

“It’ll need stitches,” you draw a weary sigh. Stitches were gross. No matter how many times you applied them, human or animal, there was something inherently queasy about the way a skin had to be pierced and woven together like a fleshy fabric.

“I have some vodka...?”

Already half expecting some flippant, inane quip about you wanting to get him drunk and take advantage of his poor soul, because he would be the type to make a joke like that, you’re startled to feel both of his arms wrap around your waist, cheek coming to rub against your stomach.

“Nah, this will get me through plenty.”

If he’d be a cat, he’d be purring.

You mouth your “what the fuck”, largely for a peace of mind and just do what you must, swallowing down the rising bile as the wound begins bleeding the second the needle touches the raw flesh. His arms embrace you like a vice but for all intents and purposes, he’s even smiling as you hurt him.

What a broken man he was.

“There,” some forty minutes later you slam the aid kit onto the rickety table. “You’re all better. Leave.”

“Just tossing a guy out on the street,” he begins to complain loudly and frightfully, you shush him. If the neighbours hear his voice flowing unmistakably from the confines of your apartment, they’ll oust you.

But did it really matter that much anymore?

With a devious sparkle in the eye, he tosses a glimpse towards you and not a second later, you feel a wet tongue glide over your palm.

Hastily, you pull it away.

“That’s fucking disgusting!”

“You lick mine, I lick yours,” his grin spreads in an open mouthed expression. You’d seen it once before. Only, of course, he’d slammed some dude’s head against the table then. Blood and teeth had spilt that night and only by luck did the noodles that you’d been eating just seconds prior didn’t spill back from your guts. After finishing beating the guy halfway to death, he’d found you shrinking on the dirty ground of the local uncle’s open air bistro.

“Ey, why you kneeling in the dirt for?” he cooed with such a thoroughly pleasant tone as blood pooled underneath his feet that even to this day you couldn’t help but shiver. “You’re dirtying your dress, pretty!”

He yanked you roughly up by the shoulders, fingers digging so deep they left bruises though you hadn’t felt it at the time. Your gaze sat in horrified fixation upon the dying man who whimpered softly by the broken tables. With some muted curiosity, the psychopath followed your stare.

“Ah, that shithead?” he crooned. “Are you going to be a hero and call an ambulance to help him?”

You didn’t answer, both not being able to as your breath stuttered so hard you feared you’d pass out any second and also assuming the question was rhetorical.

“You deaf or something?” he shook you rudely. “Come on, lucky, speak! Roll over!”

“I-I will,” at last you struggled out and his eyebrows inched a place higher.

“He’s a drug dealer, you know,” Yoongi's voice barely reached your ears but even so you were taken aback by its smoothness. It was almost more sickening than if he just had one of the terribly stereotypical gangster. “Has killed dozens. And you don’t want to let him die?”

“It-it’s n-not about him,” you panted, nerves going into haywire the longer the man kept lying unconscious. He will die. And soon if nothing changed. “I just don’t want to feel guilty.”

For a second Yoongi’s eyes had widened. He genuinely had not expected such an answer from you.

A moral, upright person would answer that every life was precious. That you were not a judge of whether he should live or die but the truth was far more brutal — you didn’t care about him.

You cared about yourself.

And this facade of goodness.

He tipped his head back and roared into a peel of loud laughter that startled you so horridly, you threw yourself backwards against the red bistro desk, knocking it over in the process.

“You’re a funny one,” still gasping for breath, he reached into the pocket of his blue jacket and proceeded to put a bright tangerine in your hands. Once he forcefully pried them open, that is. “Let’s see each other around, a’ight?”

Well, anyways that man did in fact live. Disfiguredly but live he did. The tangerine sat bright and sweet, shone by the dual colours of the disinterested police. Naturally there was no investigations, the witnesses mysteriously never came forth and while the uncle was displeased with his business being splattered with blood, even he didn't protest much. In the end, when in Rome do what Romans do. Conceal the murder attempt. Don't be a hero.

The tangerine had sat on your bedside table for a week, mocking you in echoes of his roughened laughter. You threw it away after that.

And word by word, it all unfolded to this. To Min Yoongi you were made of the same bone he was and you needed but a scratch. Like a lottery ticket, he’d scratch at you and you’d stop pretending you didn’t fit in this carousel of violence and greed.

And maybe he was right. Maybe with the right scratch you would fold. But a woman has the same ability to forge her path ahead as anyone else and only you decide to choose who you are even if it was an utter lie.

You rouse from your thought and Yoongi’s expression is oddly still. In moments such as these you truly doubted he was genuinely, clinically insane. In moments like these you suspected there was calculation in the madness but even if there was, no point caring about it now.

Min Yoongi was about to be exorcised.

He fishes a tangerine out of the pocket and with a deep rumble in the voice offers it to you.

"Want one?"

"I'm good."

Abruptly, Yoongi stretches, most likely immediately ripping at the wound on his back and joyfully chirps. The tangerine he chucks behind the shoulder where it carelessly rolls towards the corner of the table.

“I’m beat and your bed is so nice. I’ll stay here for a night.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Oh, calm down,” he brushes off, pushing the chair back. You liked to keep your things neat as long as he was here, Yoongi made sure to respect that. You didn’t quite know how to feel about that.

“I’ll keep all the parts to my fine self. Even if I promise you’d see God if only you let me,” he winks, letting his tongue stick out. You don’t grace him with a response whilst a sheen of sweat builds at the back of your neck.

“No, really, you’re not staying here.”

As a desperate prevention measure, you place yourself firmly between Yoongi and the rest of the apartment. His eyebrows knit together while the mouth loops in a confused smirk.

“What? You can’t control yourself that hard?”

As you fail to reply, his amusement slips.

“Is there someone in your bed?” he sneers. “I’ll kill them. Don’t give a shit who they are.”

Yoongi pushes past you but there is no one either in your bed nor in your apartment. Nothing but piles upon piles of stained, brown boxes.

He comes to a sudden halt, literally stuck mid-step as his gaze flits over the impersonal appearance of your home, cheek growing increasingly terrifying.

“You’re moving,” at last, he mumbles in a numb, impersonal tone, slowly turning around. Pinned like a bug underneath a microscope, you begin to shuffle anxiously from one foot to another.

“I accepted a job offer. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

His eyes narrow dangerously.

“Tomorrow,” Yoongi echoes, voice falling terribly low. “And you didn’t think to inform me?”

You swallow and muster up the splatter of nerves still left in your body.

“Why should I?”

“Do you still have that dream of a proper clinic?” he suddenly spits. “Of all the fucking white coats and nice puppies?”

“So what if I do?” spitefully, you snap back. “Am I not allowed? Does the great Min Yoongi not allow me to dream?”

The palms previously resting by his thighs curl into fists and he gasps a deep, trembling inhale, clearly struggling to contain his explosive anger.

“In a month’s time I’ll take over the gang,” he growls, lip's twitching in annoyance. “I’ll kill that fucking old bastard with my bare hands and rule this part of the city.”

“I don’t see how that's rel—”

“I’ll give you your fucking clinic.”

Your mouth runs dry but inspecting him from head to toe you don’t find a hint of amusement on his face. The darks of his eyes almost appear…earnest. If only you would believe them.

“We’ll make it all proper, put up bunch of smiling signs and shit,” he continues on, growing only more confident with each word. “And if no one comes, there’s plenty of dogs in the gang. Jungkook alone has like 500. You can doctor them all day long.”

A long drag of silence washes over you when he stops talking and though it takes you a while you do speak and with pride, you can vouch that your voice does not shake.

“I don’t want that.”

“Fucking SHIT!” he curses sharply, taking a lunging step towards you. His teeth are gritted and his gaze is insane but the eyes…his eyes are wet.

“Are you that fucking bolstered up your fucking moral high horse? Are you that obsessed with accepting broken things that search you for a cure?!”

“I accepted you, didn’t I?”

It’s almost funny…well, no, it’s not funny at all. You’ve seen all sides of him. Min Yoongi the thief, the killer, the psychopath but never just Min Yoongi — a man. A man with a heart, a man with feelings other than hate and twisted carnal pleasure at the suffering of others. You saw it, just now in the fleeting point between one second and the next, you saw him, bare and devastated like a kitten out in the cold and then it’s gone and you’re fairly sure that because of you that part won't ever appear again

“I’m sick of men like you, no, men in general telling me what I can or cannot do,” evenly, you conclude your train of thought but it’s unclear whether Yoongi hears it at all. Both his gaze and face are blank and the fists have uncurled, his arms laying listlessly by the side. With one clean punch, you knocked the fight out of him.

No pride comes because of it.

“I’ll choose who I am and where I go and you’ll have no say in it.”

He stands utterly silent before you, the shaggy black hair falling down like a curtain — obscuring his eyes. That stupid flowery shirt flows in the slight breeze he’d created by breaking your kitchen window.

Then he smiles.

It’s empty.

And you shudder.

“You know, darling," he coos, lips forming a deceptive pout. There's not a trace of warmth on his face. "You should never show your pretty face back here ever again.”

The tone is the same as it had when you first met him on that dreadful night. Pleasant.

He stalks past you with languid, considerate steps and opens the busted window like he’s done dozens of times before, climbing over the ledge. Your heart is in your throat and only now you grasp how fast it’s racing.

He’s almost gone but because it’s him, Yoongi makes sure you hear it before he drops down in the otherwise empty dark. The faint yellow light of the streetlamps outside etch long, menacing shadows upon his face but even so you think that he’s grieving somewhere underneath his own facade.

“Though if we meet outside...I ain't making any promises.”

tagging: @pinkcherrybombs; @devilsbooksworld; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @flitzerj; @royallyjjk; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @jung-nika-hoseok; @silverliningsandstorms; @ahewlett

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #bts angst #yoongi oneshot #bts oneshot #yoongi haegeum au #yoongi drabble #bts drabble

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tonystenk · 1 year

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해금

#min yoongi #bts #spotify #bangtan #yoongi #haegeum #d day album #d day #suga #yoongi x reader #yoongi not being wrong tho #what yoongi wants yoongi gets #long hair yoongi is a trigger everywhere i go #yoongi fluff

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namboobieslover · 1 year

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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

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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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wittyreader · 1 year

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Haegeum mv released and so did numerous gangster yoongi x reader fics.

I'm not complaining tho :)

(Why can't I fucking find any pics of Haegeum mv on Pinterest 😭. But I did find this scene really hot 🌚)

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan boys #suga #min yoongi #agust d #d day #d day album #haegeum #gangster!yoongi #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #gangster!yoongi x reader #haegeum mv

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kithtaehyung · 4 months

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minted (m) (teaser) | myg

title: minted (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: okay so LISTEN!!! this is a complete surprise to everyone including me, bc this was def not on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this morally grey yoongi is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and having the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur relevant url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! note 2: this fic is not for everyone. please read the warnings! there's gonna be some darker themes than the regular kithtaehyung drop, and it's the haegeum universe so it's not a light fic. if you're down for that, lfgggg. if you're not, i will not be upset if you skip this one! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint-haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, knife held to the throat, tension, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, orange!jimin, fight scenes, morally grey yoongi smut warnings: to be smacked here on drop day! drop date: as soon as i’m done but we are ZOOMIN’ word count: 6k so far and projecting 12-15k✌️

"you know.. it's a shame you touched her. because now we have nothing to discuss."

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

#IM SO EXCITED YALL #happy belated hali!!!#ryenwrites #teasers #*latest #*ryenfictalk #minted #fic:minted #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #bts imagines #bts reactions

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7ndipity · 3 months

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“Eyes On Me”

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: When you visit Yoongi on the set of the Haegeum music video, you realize you might have a slight thing for his Agust D persona.

Word Count: just under 1.7k

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, Dom Yoongi, light degradation, slight mirror sex, mentions of voyeurism, unprotected sex(pls don’t do this), swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You were practically vibrating with excitement as your car pulled up to the filming location. Usually, Yoongi liked to keep a certain level of separation between his work life and you, but since he was going to be filming as his Agust D persona, which he knew you had a more than slight obsession with, he’d asked if you wanted to join him on the trip to Thailand.

Naturally, you’d agreed immediately, loving any opportunity to show your support for him, and also knowing, whether he admitted it or not, that he was slightly nervous about being without any of the other members. Plus, there was no way you were about to pass up the opportunity to see him as his alter ego in real life.

As you climbed out of the car, you were greeted by one of his staff members, who then led you through the building to where they were currently filming.

Through the crowd of crew members, you managed to catch sight of him as he was talking with the director, clad in a patterned shirt and dark jeans, the necklaces around his neck catching the light as he moved, his hair, which you’d developed an obsession with since he started growing it out longer, was styled in a gorgeous mess of tousled waves.

You’d have to remember to thank his styling team later, his look exuded the perfect balance of casual, edgy sexiness, leaving you unable to tear your gaze away.

As you stared at him, he happened to look up and catch sight of you, his eyes lighting up as he sent you a tiny smile and wave, but before you could greet each other any further, the director called action and suddenly your Yoongi seemed to disappear.

As soon as the song started to play, Yoongi’s lips curled into a cocky smirk as he danced around the room, rapping along perfectly with the backing track. As he spun away from the camera, he shot you a quick glance, giving you a sly wink that made your thighs clench involuntarily.

You tried to ignore the stirring heat in your lower belly, but as they continued to film, you became embarrassingly aware of the growing wetness between your legs.

You couldn’t believe you were this turned on from just watching him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him perform before, but something about seeing him like this, with that over-confident swagger and wicked gleam in his eye, had you squirming in your seat to try and subtly alleviate the growing need in your aching core.

After what felt like hours, they finally called for a break, giving Yoongi(and you) time to rest while they reset the cameras for the next shot.

Yoongi immediately made a beeline for you, a sly smile teasing up the corners of his mouth as he looped his arms around your waist in a quick hug.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, pecking your cheek.

“Mhm.” You nodded, suddenly feeling shy for some reason.

He looked at you quizzically. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, why?” You replied innocently.

“Your face is red.” He said, smirking at you.

You looked down, flustered.

He leaned in close enough that no one else could overhear him.

“You know, you’re really not as subtle as you think you are.” He murmured against your ear. “I saw the way you kept staring at me. Care to share what you were thinking about?”

You shivered slightly as his fingers traced along your waist teasingly.

“You just looked really hot.” You admitted.

“Yeah? You like this?” He teased as he pulled back, gesturing to his outfit.

“Mhm.” You nodded, eyes following the way his hands caught hold of one of his necklaces.

“You should see what they’ve got me in later, a full suit with my hair slicked back.” He said in a low voice.

“I like you like this.” You whispered, catching hold of the edge of his shirt as you stared up at him, desperate need clear in your eyes, causing his gaze to darken.

He caught hold of your hand, pulling you along behind him as subtly as possible through the building til he found the spare room that was being used for wardrobe and makeup, which was mercifully empty of staff at the moment.

He quickly tugged you inside, pressing you up against the wall as he kissed you hungerly, his mouth hot and demanding, not at all like his normal gentle touch.

“I only have ten minutes, so you better behave.” He said, pulling back to stare you down with lust blown eyes, grinding his growing erection against your clothed core and causing you to let out a soft whimper.

A flicker of movement in your peripheral caught your attention, drawing your eyes to the full length mirror in the corner of the room, showing off the way Yoongi had you caged in with his body.

Yoongi noticed your gaze and glanced up, his earlier smirk returning.

“Well, isn’t this convenient?” He purred in your ear, pulling you forward and spinning you so you were now in front of the mirror, your back to his chest. “This way you can still watch me, since you like that so much.”

Without breaking eye contact with you in the mirror, he slipped a hand down your front of your pants, teasing you over your underwear, feeling the growing damp patch on the fabric.

“So fucking wet already.” He growled in your ear. “Did seeing me like this really turn you that much?”

“You always make me like this.” You breathed, your eyes fluttering closed as you let your head fall back against his shoulder.

“Ah-ah.” He caught your jaw with his free hand, drawing your gaze back to the mirror. “Eyes on me, understand? You look away, you don’t get to cum. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.” You whispered, feeling a shiver run through your body as you met his gaze in the reflection.

“Sir?” He raised a brow at you in amusement. “Shit, you really are gone for me today, aren’t you?”

Heat flooded your face, but you didn’t deny it, bucking against his hand fruitlessly. “Please.”

He removed his hand from you, making quick work of both of your pants before bending you over, barely teasing the tip of his cock between your folds before thrusting into you without warning, making you let out a small yelp, which Yoongi quickly muffled with a hand over your mouth.

“Careful, Doll, wouldn’t want anyone to hear what we’re doing in here, right?” He mocked as he bottomed out, not giving you time to adjust before drawing his hips back and trusting into you again, quickly setting a harsh pace as your hands shot out to brace against the mirror.

“Or maybe you would like that? Hmm? Want everyone to know what a little slut you are for me?” He adjusted his hold on you, deepening the angle of his thrusts and making you let out another low whine, mouth hanging open in pleasure.

“Such a slutty cunt, just couldn’t fucking wait to be filled, huh?” He grunted, watching the way you fell apart so easily on his cock.

Your hands clutched uselessly at the smooth surface of the mirror for stability, trying to hold yourself up as Yoongi continued to pound into you.

“Y-yoongi.” You whimpered, fighting to keep your eyes open and fixed on him.

“Hmm?” He cocked his head at you. “What is it, Baby?”

“Wanna cum, please.” You pleaded.

“Yeah?” He leaned over you, never slowing his thursts as his hand came back down to find your clit, rubbing harsh circles over the little bundle of nerves and making you shake in his hold.

“Cum.” He commanded.

Almost instantly, your orgasm crashed over you, biting your lip to keep from screaming out his name as you threw your head back.

Taking the opportunity, Yoongi latched onto your neck, sucking and biting at the skin and dragging out your release, causing your walls to spasm around him uncontrollably.

“Fuck.” Unable to hold back anymore, he thrusted harshly into you, his hips losing their rhythm as your clenching heat sucked him in, his cock pulsing as he coated your insides with his release.

“Fuck.” He repeated shakily, stilling deep inside of you as he leaned his forehead against your back, trying to catch his breath before pressing a kiss to your skin. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”

You laughed shakily, still staring at his slightly fucked-out image in the mirror.

He pulled out, quickly tugging your underwear back into place before anything could escape.

”Keep that in for me, yeah?” He said low in your ear, resting his hand over your abused cunt. “We can’t be making a mess of the set, can we?”

You shook your head, wobbling slightly as you tried to turn to face him, Yoongi’s hands instantly shooting out to steady you.

Just as suddenly as it had appeared earlier, the dark glint in his eyes faded, leaving only the gentle sweetness of your Yoongi staring back at you as he held onto you.

“You alright?” He asked gently.

You nodded. “Just need a minute.” You admitted with another quiet laugh, making him smile in relief before pressing his lips to yours, this time so much softer and full of love.

There was a sudden knock at the door, making you both jump back slightly.

“Yoongi? We’re ready for you on set.”

“Be right there.” He called, never taking his eyes off of you.

He pressed another gentle kiss to your lips before leading you over to sit in one of the makeup chairs.

“You rest, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Okay?”

“Okay.” You replied, watching as he tidied himself up before heading for the door. “Hey.”

He paused, looking back at you questioningly. “Yeah?”

“Do you think they’ll let you keep that outfit?” You asked with a grin.

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ll ask.”

“Thank you.” You beamed.

He slipped out the door, mumbling something about “ridiculous”, but you didn’t pay it any mind.

He did keep the outfit though.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi oneshot #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts smut #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts requests #7ndipity

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pennyellee · 3 months

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CHAPTER VII - mágoa

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, violence, bloodshed, history class on lacrimosa yall, nudity, blood, manhandling, slapping, mentions of suicide, gun use, genitalia cupping, gaslighting, anxiety, strong language, threats, misogyny, old social norms, lies-lies-lies, bone crunching, physical violence, suicide attempt

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 12K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VIII

mágoa (n.) a heartbreaking feeling that leaves long-lasting traces, visible in gestures and facial expressions

A pinch of sadness went through Y/N when she heard his words. She gave herself to him. Without any fight, simply accepting that this had to be done for her to build a strong base where he would trust her enough to let his guard down. After this day, her mind was barely holding up, therefore she went down the hill willingly rather than by force.

Her eyes were about to close slowly when he was taking the white sheet on which they consummated their marriage. Although her eyes were narrowed, she saw a significant portion of it being painted red with her blood. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she laid there, boring her eyes to the ceiling of the room rather than perceiving the reality.

The flames of the fire danced and flickered, casting a warm glow upon their entwined bodies. They laid there — he basked in the afterglow, and she in her own sorrow. He was caressing her hair while she laid on top of his naked torso where he moved her to rest just a moment ago, trying to not think about what had happened. She cared no more. Her mind and body were exhausted. Yoongi put a soft kiss on her forehead before he broke the serene silence.

“A bath, shall we?” Her body felt the mix of exhaustion and vulnerability as she went to get up, a soreness radiated in between her legs. Y/N could not wait till she would spread her limbs in the hot spring water. Yoongi gently swept her to his arms and carried her out of the room.

The corridor was softly lit by lanterns, their warm glow casting a gentle illumination. Paper windows filtered the moonlight, creating patterns of soft shadows on the wooden floor as he was taking her to the spring. He hoped it would ease her pain and relax her muscles so he could be a little more selfish and take her again and again until dusk.

Her naked nipples stiffened and reacted to the sudden change of temperature. Yoongi was yet again trying to control his urges to press her against the wall and take her from behind. But he knew better. She was sore, vulnerable, and he knew the time was ticking and soon a bigger wave of realisation would hit her.

The steam from the heated water mingled with the crisp air, creating a comforting atmosphere that embraced them. She could feel the cold wind hitting her body before Yoongi stepped inside the natural bath surrounded by ancient rocks, swiftly setting their bodies into the hot water. Y/N breathed out from the sensation of the water balming her sore muscles. She took a moment to embrace the peacefulness of her surroundings, momentarily forgetting the true nature of her situation and to whom is her naked body pressed to.

Her eyes snapped open when the nerve hit her senses, breath hitching in her throat, tears still struggling to dry on her cheeks. An epiphany. She tried to pull herself away from him, covering her chest when he pushed her against him even tighter.

“None of that, my love,” he whispered into her ear, nabbing at it and pecking her head. “You are finally doing so well, baby,” he spoke, his lips still pressed to her hair.

The soothing warmth of the water against her skin and the unsettling reality of her vulnerability in Yoongi’s embrace — it overwhelmed her from every perspective. His words, though tender, served as a reminder of the power dynamics that governed their relationship. She felt a surge of frustration and sadness, a silent plea for autonomy in a world that seemed determined to deny it and her resilience was coming back to life again.

“Yoongi,-” she said urgently, her voice carrying over the soothing sounds of flowing water. “When is it going to happen?” Y/N inquired, lifting her head up, her eyes searching for answers.

“It is already happening.”

The night had unfolded in shadows and whispers, and as the moon’s soft glow seeped into the bath, reality grew more elusive.

The infamous Yakuza, believing themselves five steps ahead of the Min clan, found their fortunes turned by the cunning moves of the young Kkangpae. The cards he tossed when luring out the enemy’s leader were not in their favour. Cut the snake’s head and it will die; Yoongi wished to see them all perish.

The headquarters of the Japanese clan, once a fortress of power, now stood vulnerable in the absence of its leader. Yoongi’s calculated manoeuvres had left them exposed, ripe for his seizing. From Japan to the north of Korea, with Hong Kong looming as the next conquest, the throne beckoned to him now.

The Kkangpae had played a dangerous game, and the stakes had never been higher. He realised this when the enemy held his beloved, poised to snuff out her life with vengeance. That urgency drove him to expedite matters. Within an hour, united soldiers of the Min and Wang houses moved to three different locations, armed and prepared for the Yakuza’s onslaught.

Yoongi knew the moment they set foot on his territorial grounds their intentions were not congratulatory. But one of the decoy. On that note, another three units secured warehouses, guarding the ammunition and the snow, as they called it, to maintain prosperity.

Y/N had underestimated him and the measures he would take to ascend the ladder. No man had dared challenge the Yakuza and lived to tell the tale, let alone dismantle the cruel syndicate over the span of a single lifetime.

The last of them were already en route to join infiltrators in Fukuoka, where all of Yamamoto’s warehouses lay, along with Tokyo’s headquarters. The command was clear: at the stroke of midnight — fire.

“Is Mother with Bó Chéng and Xiaoli, safe?” Her voice trembled. Y/N is no fool; her gut warned of temporary alliances and impending bloodshed once the Yakuza descended the stairs. This time, between Wangs and Mins. Yoongi never confirmed such a cruel assumption, yet, she knew.

He nodded solemnly, understanding her concern. “They are safe, love. I made sure of it,” he reassured, his voice a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. Yoongi’s eyes held a mysterious depth as he spoke, and the weight of his words lingered in the air.

The Kkangpae had unleashed a force that even he hadn’t fully anticipated, and the consequences were now playing out in real time. His vision was clear — The Min clan, a rising phoenix from the ashes, disrupting the status quo, plunging the city into disarray.

For years, no Korean clan had dared confront Japan’s Yakuza, the threat of annihilation keeping them in check. Hence, Korea’s underworld always stood divided until the former Kkangpae Min initiated revolutionary acts against both southern and northern enemies.

As the First World War unfolded, Yoongi’s father saw an opportunity to cover the blood traces left behind by the clans on the battlefield. The alliances formed, the battles fought—all of it became obscured by the larger narrative of global conflict. The revolution against both parties became a rallying cry for those long oppressed by the Yakuza.

The clan of Min knew if they wanted to succeed in this power play, attacking the northern foes was first in order before they could stand a chance over Yakuza and their international allies.

The war with its sweeping chaos and diversion, became a canvas for the Mins to redraw the lines of power. The world may be at peace now, the syndicate clans were nowhere near the fine line. A Cold War between the fighting clans arose and took its place now that they could not horrendously murder each other without drawing the attention of the upper world.

Not today.

His father’s revolutionary act set the stage, and Yoongi intended to finish it. With satisfaction, he watched as the wheels of change turned, irreversible.

The war ended over two decades ago and yet Yoongi still expected the unexpected. Hong Kong sought alliance with Tokyo. A marriage would seal it. Lineage was sacred, heavily valued. The syndicate, with its watchful eyes and ears attuned to the pulse of the underworld, murmured in speculation. Rumour was spread of Wang Zemo’s eldest daughter to be betrothed to Yamamoto Itsuki, the Yakuza’s heir.

Yoongi had just celebrated his 18th birthday when the murmur began. The girl, barely a decade old, promised to the Yakuza. No official betrothal could happen as she was still too young to be wedded.

Years went by and when she reached the 18th year of her life, Yoongi anticipated another bloodthirsty war to begin now that the arrangement could take place. But nothing happened. Holding her portrait in his hand, looking at the black and white photograph with a fresh cut on his eye, imagining how cherry red her lips must be and how he is going to drown in her eyes once he sees them for real. He saw opportunity, a golden ticket in this dangerous game.

Therefore, before her twenty-first birthday, Yoongi was already ahead of Yakuza, sipping tea with Wang Xiaoqing, the Triad leader’s older sister. His intention was clear from the beginning — the young gal in the portrait, undyingly beautiful.

Instead of wielding guns and knives at the northern enemy in China he was resolute in overthrowing the Triad by this calculated move of taking her and creating a powerful alliance in order to end Yakuza’s reign. He could have had any woman from his clan, but no woman ever spiked his interest as much as Wang Y/N.

He settled his mind on the path God presented him. He played his pieces, aiming for the Triad’s allegiance. The men of the Wang Triad, fiercely loyal to their established traditions, would not willingly follow an outsider — with or without war. To secure his grip on the Triad’s allegiance, Yoongi needed more than a coup; he needed a legitimate claim to leadership.

He played his pieces, aiming for the Triad’s allegiance. The young Kkangpae began his cockiness by taking the young woman to keep at his premises right before Yakuza would announce the engagement and followed the union.

Yoongi, the architect of this narrative, understood the power of perception. A move that seemed personal had far-reaching implications in the complex web of alliances that governed the criminal underworld.

The elderly woman was the smartest human he ever met. As she also held a mutual disdain for the house of Yamamoto that ran deep, an animosity fuelled by years of oppression and subjugation. The Yakuza’s supremacy over other clans, their unabashed acquisition of shares, land, and women, irked her. It was a political dominance that had cast a shadow over both Seoul and Hong Kong’s criminal underworld for far too long.

A shrewd strategist that Wang Xiaoqing was, recognised the potential for a successful revolution in Yoongi’s carefully laid steps — the blockade of docks, the seamless integration into the Yakuza’s business affairs, the subtle theft of opportunities, and the meticulous infiltration into their other operations—it was a game of chess played with finesse. Lastly, his determination on not letting Wang’s oldest daughter marry into Yakuza and form an alliance that could be a threat to his own kin.

Taking her niece would be a move that went beyond the surface, resonating with the desire to break free from the chains that bound them to the Yakuza’s dominance. Nobody dared to take what Yakuza claimed as theirs. Until him.

In the dimly lit warehouse where he was solely because the Luen’s shipment of ammunition to Taiwan got rampaged by Yakuza soldiers. Their attack on the shipment had disrupted his plans, leading him to intervene personally.

The captured Yakuza soldier, now a pawn in this unexpected confrontation, was brought before Yoongi for interrogation. The improvised setup within the warehouse served as the backdrop for the intense questioning that aimed to unveil the motives behind the Yakuza’s brazen attack that Yoongi already knew. It was their way of sending a message, a warning to the clans to not climb the ladder too high.

However, that’s not what aches Yoongi’s heart whenever he remembers that night. It was her, clad in her signature red qipao, in a dishevelled state, most likely chilled to the bone, lip split open.

The date on which Yoongi would arrive to collect her was settled two weeks from that day, but there she was, standing in the warehouse, most likely looking for a shelter from the cold.

In the silent exchange, Yoongi saw a glimpse of vulnerability and strength, a combination that both intrigued and captivated him. She looked straight to his eyes for what felt like hours without flinching away. The spark he felt that ignited between them in that warehouse would become the member of an unspoken understanding—a realisation that love, in its rawest form, had found its way to his heart.

He recalls how his breath stammered when he saw her for the first time. No matter how long she’s been running, no matter how the chilly wind ruffled her hair — she looked magnificent. All the love letters scribbled down that he had never sent to her were hidden in the drawer of his desk. He might give them to her one day once she will be ready to reciprocate his love.

Yoongi was convinced that it was destiny that she came upon the warehouse, as if God was leading her to his arms, where she belongs. At least according to the young leader of the clan. Y/N’s arrival to his land was unexpected and it certainly changed the whole trajectory. And that was one of the pivotal moments when he decided to rethink his steps.

This unforeseen encounter planted the seeds of a different kind of connection, one that deviated from the cold calculations of alliances and power and dark intentions loomed over the young Kkangpae Min.

Yoongi used to see marriage as a means to an end, a pragmatic choice made in the pursuit of power and influence. The emotions that typically accompanied such unions were to be set aside in favour of the greater goal at hand.

But her presence started to overshadow the original intentions of the alliance. How she fought him, stood her ground — all just made him want her more. As he found himself captivated by her company, the cold calculations of the former plan began to waver and he was decided.

The Yakuza’s move was thought-through, he did not expect any less—a challenge issued with violence and bloodshed and in the midst of celebration, chaos erupted. Min with his bride long gone to safety. Masked assailants, clad in the insignia of the Yakuza, stormed the hotel and one would think this is the end. But this conflict was nowhere near the grand finale.

At the time of the awaited attack of Yakuza men, echoes of screams of agony and crackling fire were far too loud. A clear symbol of the arising power of the Min clan. The two generations of Yamamoto's men, father and son, now lay as nothing more than ashes.

The night, which should have been a tender moment of intimacy, became the stage for a chilling chess move. As Yoongi and Y/N shared the vulnerability of their union, the Min clan, under his orders, descended upon the Yakuza with a relentless fury.

The sound of gunfire and explosions echoed in the night, a symphony of retribution that played out against the backdrop far away from their marital chamber. While Yoongi claimed the innocence of his wife, he orchestrated the downfall of those who dared to challenge his dominion.

The puppeteer of this grim performance, ensured that their legacy was erased, their power dismantled, and their grip on the criminal underworld shattered. In just one night, the war that lasted years ended.

Infiltrating the Yakuza was a meticulous plan, and his true intentions were hidden even from those closest to him. As the Min clan annihilated the Yakuza in cold blood, the night drew to a close and only those who would bend the knee and pledge loyalty were spared.

The night had witnessed the birth of a new order and the song of the dead echoed whilst the former empire shattered into pieces.

Morning arrived with a soft glow, painting the room in shades of muted light where Yoongi’s fingers traced gentle patterns on her naked back.

“Breakfast is ready,” he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss on her forehead. She nodded, wordless.

The table boasted an array of dishes, their enticing aroma filling the air. Yet Y/N could not eat yesterday nor today, the food simply did not go down her system.

Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on her from time to time, while he was reading today’s paper the maid delivered together with the breakfast. His eyes, like a silent observer, bore witness to the aftermath of a night. Y/N’s eyes were bloodshot, cheeks stained with dried tears, her neck bearing bruises. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon her, yet he held onto the hope that all would settle now.

Yoongi sighed and reached into the pocket of his black vest.

“I have not read it,” said he once they finished eating breakfast and sat down in the lounge room. Y/N’s eyes moved to meet him, anticipating his next step. She did not want to speak to him. She did not want to look at him nor she did not want him to look at her.

“I appreciate that,” said Y/N, avoiding his eyes. Yoongi sighed again, reluctant to relinquish leverage over her, yet compelled to address the matter at hand. Deep down, he hoped the contents of the letter would bring her solace, perhaps even warmth towards him. Now, he stood as a fool in the pouring rain.

He carefully handed the letter, urging her to open it.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tearing open the envelope and extracting the yellowed paper within.

She looked at Yoongi one more time, and when she saw him spreading out the newspapers, she was glad he gave her at least some degree of privacy. Her eyes fell upon the cursive symbols of her beloved aunt’s handwriting.

The memories flooded back as Y/N read the words on the aged paper, transporting her to a time when life was less complicated. Yet, she remembers clearly the moment when the complications started to appear. She read the words, screaming at her whilst detailing Wang Xiaoqing’s declining health, her world halted.

The air grew heavy with a mix of medicinal scents and the weight of impending loss. Her aunt, a pillar of strength, lay frail on the bed, and Y/N’s heart ached at the sight.

As she recalls her last moments with her while reading the neatness of her handwriting Y/N finally sees the truth. Her breath caught in her throat, vision blurred by tears. Clutching the paper tightly, she read the words repeatedly, struggling to accept their meaning.

“I need you to understand, my dear,” her aunt’s voice, weakened but filled with determination, echoed in the room.

“There are things, things I have kept from you to protect your mind and soul.”

Her aunt reached for her hand, the warmth of their connection grounding them in that vulnerable moment. The intricate dance between clans, the bloodshed, and the sacrifice her aunt had made to shield her from the harsh realities of their world.

“But it seems that my judgement was clouded—” In that moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, as if bracing for the revelation that would reshape the very foundation of her understanding. The vulnerability in her voice resonated with the unspoken sacrifices made for the sake of protection. Or at least that is what she thought she was doing by allowing Min Yoongi to take her into custody and use her as a leverage over the clans in negotiation of dominance.

“We do not have much time I fear,” her aunt continued, urgency etched into her every word. Y/N held her hand tightly, afraid to let her go.

“Once you burn me to ashes, I need you to run and not look back, Kai will help you get away—” a strong cough interrupted her speech and Y/N rushed to get her some tea to ease her throat. A bony hand landed on her forearm, stopping her in motion. Her eyes watered again at the sight of the state God let her aunt get in. Her fingers were turning purple and Y/N knew what that means. Oxygen was leaving her body and the end was near.

“Auntie—” she went to protest, at the time not understanding why she needed to run in the first place. But she listened carefully to her aunt closely when her sore and painful voice mapped out her next steps.

Back then Y/N wanted to believe it was a sacrifice born out of love and the desire to break free from the cycle of violence that had ensnared their family for too long. And her aunt presented her a chance to not be in the middle of the fire.

Peace was a fragile illusion. Min Yoongi may be a titan among the outside world, yet within the confines of his own home, his dominion was about to face its greatest challenge.

Yoongi, engrossed in his reading, spared his wife the intrusion of his gaze, allowing her the solitude to grapple with the weight of her aunt’s revelations. Not having a clue what the dying woman could write.

The revelations echoed in the silence of the room, and when Y/N finally looked up from the letter, her eyes met Yoongi’s. The vulnerability in that moment transcended the complexities of their current situation, forging an unspoken false connection on his side rooted in pain and the unravelling of hidden truths. In a burst of fury, she lashed out.

“You’re a fucking liar.”

An anger radiated from her, the heat rushing to her head. Yoongi’s eyes locked onto hers; he didn’t flinch at the sudden eruption of anger — it was nothing he didn’t already get used to. Instead, he folded the paper with deliberate care, setting it aside.

“Am I?” His response was laced with a hint of amusement, a calculated provocation that stoked the flames of her anger.

The contents of the letter, as it seems, are not what he hoped for. Nonetheless, he wondered whether he would fight this battle. Sooner or later she would learn the truth. It’s the timing that was not perfect and he knew it’s going to be hard to put the fire out.

“You manipulated her into agreeing—” Yoongi sucked the inner side of his mouth and released it with a loud click of his tongue, trying to compose himself for what is to come as she now knows.

“—with a choice, dove. A difficult one, yes, but she made the decision on her own accord,” Yoongi interjected, his voice maintaining a disconcerting calmness.

“You lied to her!” A wry smile played on Yoongi’s lips as he met her accusing gaze. Y/N was hanging on the farthest end of the branch and soon enough she would fall. Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on Y/N, his calm demeanour a stark contrast to the storm brewing within her.

“She would not have approved if she knew of your intentions!” Yoongi leaned against a nearby table after he stood up, his gaze unwavering. He realised that what she is implying is true. But he also knew that this is not the world where Wang Xiaoqing would be stupid enough to give him her hand. She knew what it would mean.

“Power comes with a price. Your aunt understood that and made the necessary sacrifice.” Y/N scoffed at his words, incredulous. Yoongi’s response was a wry smile, a silent admission of guilt that he would never voice out.

“And what of my sacrifice? What about the life I wanted, the choices I never got to make? You took them from me!” He reached out to her, his fingers gently tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. Yoongi looked at her trembling lips and caught himself thinking how good they felt against his last night.

Y/N, caught between anger and grief, searched Yoongi’s eyes for any sign of remorse. Yet, all she found was the unwavering resolve of a leader who had chosen duty over sentiment.

Her patience was wearing thin, her anger boiling over like a cauldron on the verge of eruption.

“I did what I had to do for the survival of our clan—” she struck out, her hand connecting with his cheek in a resounding slap. Her whole body was shaking with grief, anger and hatred.

Yoongi’s head pivoted slightly at the sudden intrusion he did not expect. Yet, even as she railed against him, hitting him repeatedly, Yoongi remained steadfast. All the curse words she sent his way were only bypassing him. He knows she wouldn’t do this in normal circumstances. But to stop and think for a second — there were never normal circumstances to begin with.

“You took everything from me!” Her voice was a plaintive cry, a desperate plea for justice in a world gone mad.

“I gave myself to you!” She screamed furiously. Yoongi’s eyes, usually calm and collected, flickered with rage. She glared back at him, tears streaming down her face. The reality of her situation sunk in, and Y/N felt a profound sense of betrayal.

“You’re fucking liar Min Yoongi. You never fucking needed to-” Yoongi’s jaw tensed, the anger in his gaze burning like a smouldering ember. His calm façade cracked, revealing the storm of emotions within while she aimed to hit his face again.

“Are you done?” He forcefully grabbed her wrists, stopping her, holding them tightly while he pulled her towards him. She shook her head, trying to break free from his grasp to make more damage. Y/N refused to yield.

“Fucking listen to me, Y/N,” he spoke through gritted teeth, his voice a low growl.

“Yes, I lied to your aunt because I knew where your ambitions lay and where she wanted you to be.” His grip tightened as he continued, his words cutting through the charged air. She shook her head in disbelief, struggling to break free from his hold as he violently pulled her back.

“I knew she would never give me her blessing to marry you!” Y/N’s eyes widened with a mix of surprise and realisation of his confession, confirming the contents of the letter.

“So you fucking tricked her,” she gritted through her teeth. Min Yoongi never intended to send her overseas, just like he promised the dying woman. All this time, she blamed her aunt for choosing her path, unaware of Yoongi’s manipulations.

“I could have slaughtered the whole Triad. Think of this as me being merciful.”

The weight of his words settled in the room, a heavy silence following his chilling revelation.

“You even fooled my father into thinking this is all my aunt’s doing,-” she whispered unbelievably, her voice laced with a bitter realisation. Yoongi’s expression remained impassive, but the truth lingered in the air like a haunting melody.

“You made a promise to her that I will be safe overseas, so why am I here, Yoongi?!”

“Because I fucking fell in love with you!” he exclaimed, his voice rising, his eyes searching for any kind of emotion that would show that she understands his doings. Of course she does not understand, after all, he does not understand how much damage he has done either. He is selfish and he always will be.

“You betrayed her trust!” Y/N’s eyes, on the other hand, searched for any sign of remorse, any glimmer of the man she thought she knew. He exhaled heavily, the weight of their tangled destinies pressing down on him.

“It was either marrying you and having a legitimate claim or bloodshed. Would you rather the worse option?” Y/N’s gaze wavered between anger and hurt, her surroundings fading away.

“You justify cruelty with some deluded sense of righteousness,” she said, her voice strained from the last vestiges of her strength.

“You’re part of this world, part of my world, whether you like it or not—”

“This was never about Yamamotos right?—” She looked right into his eyes, scanning the angry red scar that ran up in his brow that he now raised at her remark.

“—you are going to break the alliance with my father the first chance you get. That is what you mean by legitimate claim, am I fucking right Yoongi?!” He clenched his jaw, frustration etched on his face. Y/N had seen through his carefully constructed façade.

“You only fucking love yourself and your fucking clan!” He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words but whence she decided that getting physical with him again is the answer — he snapped.

His hand forcefully clutched her jaw in a tight grip, just like when she first opened her eyes under his imprisonment. The wall met her back and she gave out a painful yelp. He closed the proximity to her face and spoke the words right to her ear while watching her struggle to get out of his grip.

“One of the things I love about you, dove, is your cleverness. But this little clever girl needs to finally learn her place,” he said, his words seething with control. She was whimpering in his grip that got tighter and tighter with each word he uttered.

“I took you for a wife so when I blow the brains out of your Sire’s head and take over his Triad, I will be unopposed, that is the truth, now—” Y/N’s eyes widened in both shock and fear as Yoongi’s words penetrated the air around her.

The force of his grip on her jaw made her gasp, the pain radiating through her face. The cold, unyielding wall at her back provided no escape, and she felt a surge of helplessness as his words sank in.

“Yet, out of the love I have for you, I have ensured your lovely sister will have her place within our clan and your mother will be taken care of. It’s the little boy you are afraid I might hurt, innit?” The mention of her family sent a shiver down her spine, and her eyes flickered with a mix of dread and anger.

“Well let us say, if you shall not force my hand by your shenanigans, I shall spare him.”

“You are a psychopathic monster,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice barely audible as his grip was not allowing her to speak properly. He chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine.

“You were not saying that when I spilled all my love inside of your cunt, claiming you” his lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, cupping her womanhood with his free hand.

“You have no choice in this, dove. You are mine, bound by vows and blood. And when the time comes, you shall see I am the only one who can protect you—” his lips dangerously close to her ear now moved, laying a small peck on her wet cheek, right under her eye.

“—to provide for you,” his lips brushed upon her skin moving to lay another peck to her forehead. Tears streamed down her face.

“—to love you.” He finished, pressing his lips to hers.

“I wanted you from the very beginning. It was always you,—” She narrowed her eyes, a fire igniting within her despite the fear. The taste of his lips lingered on hers as Yoongi pulled away, his eyes fixed on her tear-stained face.

“—even if I would slaughter every member of your Triad, I would have spared you, my love.”

“I would rather die,” she spat at him, a small act of defiance in the face of his cruelty.

“Death is easy, dove. It’s the living hell I can create for you and those you love that should terrify you—” He traced a finger along her jaw, a sickening smile playing on his lips.

“Even the strongest wills can be broken, I still have some ways to make you obey and be a dutiful loving wife.”

“I will not become the submissive wife you fantasise about.”

But the scarred leader had a trick up his sleeve that only time will show whether she will need that kind of fixing.

“You are a challenging one, and I do love a good challenge. However, your defiance is only temporary,” he smirked, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Y/N recoiled, a sense of dread settling in her stomach. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his plans, something insidious lurking beneath the surface. The scarred leader had shown a glimpse of a darker side, a side that made her shudder with apprehension. The voices in her head never left and now they were louder than ever.

“In the end, you will crave me,” his words echoed, each syllable dripping with a sinister certainty. “—And what a good life I can offer. I have all the time in the world to make you mine. Soul and mind.” He continued his monologue. She clenched her fists, steeling herself against the onslaught of doubt and fear.

“If my mind does not betray me, I told you what will happen once you disobey me again, did I not, dove?” her heart pounding in her chest as Yoongi’s words sent waves of revulsion through her. She fought against the oppressive grip on her jaw, her eyes ablaze with a mixture of defiance and fury.

“How exactly did I disobey you, hm?” she demanded, her voice rising with each word.

His chuckle resonated in the room, and he released his hold on her jaw. Y/N slumped against the wall, gasping for a deep inhale of air. The tears blurred her vision and her head seemed too heavy. Yoongi took the little bell on the side table, turning to Y/N, a cold glint in his eyes.

“I assume, the last time I disciplined you, was not simply enough.” He carried on without taking her comment to notice. She struggled to regain her composure, wiping away the tears that clouded her vision.

His fingers toyed with the small bell in his hand, and the room seemed to constrict around her.

The sound of the bell echoed, a disconcerting prelude to what awaited her. Yoongi’s gaze bore into her, a chilling determination evident in his demeanour.

“It seems you need a little reminder.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened, her mind racing with the fear of the unknown. She heard footsteps approaching the room and her head swiftly turned to follow the sound.

“Yoongi—” she pleaded. He remained unmoved. The approaching footsteps grew louder, and a sense of dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

“I hope this will be the final lesson, dove,” Yoongi said, the edge of cruelty evident in his voice. When she saw him reach for the walther in his holster, her pleas became more urgent.

“I am sorry, that’s what you want to hear right, Yoongi? I am sorry!” she implored, her voice shaky with a blend of terror and disbelief. “I will do whatever you want, just don’t—”

But her words were cut short as Yoongi’s hand gripped the handle of the walther. The room seemed to close in around her, the walls similarly closing in on the remnants of her hope. His gaze remained cold, his resolve unyielding as extended hand with the gun in his grip aiming for the incomer sliding the hanji paper door open.

Yoongi’s gaze shifted toward the figure entering the room, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Panic surged through her as she redirected her plea, desperately trying to avert the impending danger. His finger hovered over the trigger. He patiently waited till the door slid all the way in before loading the gun that alarmed Y/N even more.

“Yoongi stop, let us talk—” he had to laugh at how quickly he can have her on chokehold, smothering the fire in her. He was having none of it this time.

But before she could act, Yoongi’s grip tightened on the gun, his finger inching closer to the trigger. The figure in the doorway froze, sensing the danger that lurked in the scarred leader’s cold gaze.

Y/N needed to think quickly, her gaze momentarily meeting the poor made, stopping to look her over, she gulped down. It was her. The young girl’s tears were already falling to the wooden floor once she slumped down to her knees and begged for her life, just like she did months ago near the koi pond that she almost drowned in.

“I told you the Lord has a plan—” Y/N closed her eyes shut tightly, trying to think of a way to save the girl’s life. She owes her so much already and she certainly does not deserve to die because the man cannot handle being rejected each time there’s progress within the messed up relationship he formed in his deluded head.

Her palms pressed to her eyes she breathed the air in. With a surge of determination, she stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest. Yoongi’s gaze bore into her, his cold eyes reflecting the twisted depths of his obsession.

With a deep breath, Y/N made her move. Ignoring the fear that threatened to paralyse her, she closed the distance between them in a swift motion. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, her touch gentle yet calculated. His gaze locked with hers in a silent battle of wills. It confused him. What does she think she is doing? The scarred leader was too selfish to stop her. Feeling her warm hand on his cheek made him lose his hardened features.

If he could rule with fear and violence, she can rule with the love he desperately wants her to reciprocate, even if it will be pretended. And pretend she planned to.

Y/N was not stupid, she knew he would not believe her one bit that she is going to be a pitch-perfect mafia wife overnight. But gradually, till she can think of a way to leave. A plan was already writing itself in her conflicted mind. For now, she needed to get the girl out of danger, and if she had to forget about where she was standing and with whom, she would. For a life that can be spared.

And then, without hesitation, she pressed her lips to his in a desperate kiss. It was a gamble, a risky move born out of necessity. But in that fleeting moment, as their lips met in a deceitful embrace, Y/N prayed it would be enough to distract him.

Her heart raced with adrenaline as she poured every ounce of determination into the kiss, willing him to succumb to the illusion of affection. She could feel the tension in his body, his grip on the gun momentarily faltering as she moved her lips against his.

Yoongi was too taken aback to react differently than kissing her back as if this was the last time he was. She used his own tactics against him, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed to pay off. Winning this round with flying colours as the gun with a swift motion was sent clattering to the floor. The sound echoed through the room.

When Y/N finally parted from him, her eyes filled with determination, Yoongi chuckled softly, the façade of affection slipping away. Yoongi took an estranged string of hair and tugged it behind her ear.

“I told you your defiance is only temporary.”

“And you just proved your threats are empty.”

She refused to let his words intimidate her, to succumb to the fear that threatened to consume her. She knew Min Yoongi’s weakness all too well.

Her — it was her greatest advantage now, and she planned to use it to its fullest extent. Her defiance was far from being temporary. One step at a time; she planned to win.

Y/N watched the falling snow from the Cadillac’s window, her mind swirling with the events that had transpired. Min Yoongi sat beside her in stony silence, still seething from their confrontation. He dragged her to the car kicking. His pride was wounded by her defiance. Again. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter, of breaking under the weight of his control.

This was not the right time for her shell to crack. He needed her composed and Y/N was not feeling like a puppet he has had made of her these past months. He overstepped the line with the knowledge that and in their world, truth can kill.

He dusted his coat and hat from snow once they stepped inside of the hotel they vacated not even a day ago. Y/N felt small once she walked by his side, not because he would intimidate her, that was never the case — her eyes creeped at the hallway where her body was pressed to the wall, strong hand on her neck.

A sense of unease settled over her. She raised her own hand to touch the still sore space covered by the neckline of her qipao, white fur coat draped around her shoulders.

His sharp eyes noticed it and for a fleeting moment he paused, his gaze softening imperceptibly as it fell upon Y/N’s form. Despite the coldness that often characterised his demeanour, there was a flicker of something akin to remorse in his eyes.

That is where Min Yoongi’s remorse lies. He did not regret taking her as wife, he did not regret all the lies, damage and deception he employed to achieve so, what he did regret was her getting physically hurt. He regretted listening to her sister when she said he should stay with the guests instead of attending to you. But as quickly as it had appeared, the moment passed, and Yoongi’s expression hardened once more.

She followed him into the dining hall, her steps hesitant as they walked side by side. The room erupted into applause once they stepped in. The sound echoing off the walls in a cacophony of celebration of the genocide they just performed.

The celebration was a mockery of the destruction they had caused, the lives they had taken in the name of power. Y/N scanned the faces in the room, searching for her family among the crowd. Relief washed over her when she saw Xiaoli, hanged on the arm of Kim Taehyung; she nodded, a silent reassurance that they were safe.

There is never a guarantee that ordinary civilians won’t be harmed as that’s how clan’s limit the possibility of attacking the headquarters which were strategically located in the heart of the city. Therefore, no assurances that innocent lives would be spared.

Her steps remained hesitant as they made their way through the crowded room. Number of men and women patted him on his back, congratulating him on the plan he orchestrated worked just right. And as she cast a glance at Yoongi, she couldn’t help but wonder whether they all would ever find redemption for the sins they had committed.

Yoongi raised his hand once they got in the middle of the dining hall, attempting to silence everyone. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to him expectantly.

But Y/N paid him no mind, her thoughts consumed by the dark undercurrents that lurked beneath the surface. She did not bother to pay attention to her so-called husband’s propagandic words to his blind worshipers. The voices in her head would outcry him or anyone else. For what little her ears caught, there was a sense of pride in his words, a conviction that they had done what needed to be done to protect their interests.

“We must remain vigilant,” he concluded, his voice a warning. “Our enemies may have been vanquished, but new threats will always emerge. We must stand together, united in our resolve to protect what is ours.” Yoongi’s gaze lingered on Y/N possessively. When his gaze fell back to the crowd, he saw his right hand man making a way to the centre, rather urgently.

“Excuse me,-” Yoongi murmured to those around him, his tone clipped as he stepped away from the crowd. He had little time for idle chatter, especially in the midst of their celebrations.

Namjoon’s expression was grave as he spoke, his words measured and deliberate. “There’s been a development,-” he began, his voice becoming too low to understand what he was saying. Y/N’s eyes flickered to all of them before they landed back on Yoongi and still whispering Namjoon.

Yoongi’s expression remained unreadable as he listened to Namjoon, his features schooled into a mask of stoicism. But as Namjoon’s words sank in, a flicker of something dark and dangerous glinted in his eyes. As Yoongi turned to face her, his gaze piercing and intense, she could not predict what was going to happen.

The scarred leader encouraged everyone to continue with celebrations with a big smile plastered on his face, his voice ringing out with false warmth and cheer. But the persona was long gone once he turned to face the group of his most trusted man.

“Tae, take Xiaoli to her room and come back, the rest, office now—” Yoongi ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

“I’m going to see Bó Chéng and Ma, Yoongi.” She announced, interrupting the stream of his command. Yoongi’s gaze snapped to Y/N, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before his expression hardened once more. He attempted to make a reasonable argument why she cannot go, but there was none, only his selfishness remained. Clutching his fist tightly, he spoke.

“Thirty minutes, then I need you downstairs.” Yoongi’s jaw clenched as he struggled to contain his frustration. Y/N nodded curtly, she knew that this is a rare occasion that he would agree without a fight.

“Dove?” Yoongi called when she turned to walk away. He hesitated for a moment, his thoughts racing as he searched for the right words. The darkness and possessiveness that loomed over him overshadowed any kind of sincerity he wished he would say instead.

“Do not make me come and get you.”

The atmosphere was heavy with tension as Yoongi sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he listened to the reports from his subordinates. The news of Chanyeol’s demise lingered in the air like a dark omen, casting a shadow over the room.

“Are you certain it was a suicide?” Yoongi’s voice cut through the tense silence of the room.

“They found him hanging in his cell,” Namjoon replied, his tone cautious. “No signs of foul play.”

Yoongi’s mind raced with questions. The absence of a trial meant that Chan-yeol’s fate had been sealed, his sins catching up to him in the most final of ways.

“His death was inevitable,” Yoongi murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. “But it serves as a reminder to all who dare to betray us.”

“He fucking deserved to have his balls cut off, Hyung.” The youngest member of the board spoke with venom in his voice. The sentiment was shared by many in the room, but Yoongi knew that dwelling on revenge would only serve to distract them from their true objectives. Nonetheless, he silently nodded in agreement.

“Are all our goods secured, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi shifted the conversation to more practical matters, his focus unwavering despite the weight of recent events. Their operations could not afford to falter.

“They’re secured, Hyung,” Jimin replied, his tone confident. “We’ve taken the necessary precautions to ensure our assets remain protected.”

“Good,” Yoongi said, his voice firm. “We can’t afford any mistakes. Keep a close eye on everything, and report any unusual activity immediately—”

“What is it, Yoongi?” The doctor’s voice resonated throughout the room. He was sitting near the fireplace, nursing a glass of liquor in his hand, his eyes sharp and thin while looking at his brother and leader.

The moment he stepped inside of the hotel, Seokjin knew something had happened that got under Yoongi’s skin. The only reason is still absent in this room, her time slowly waning.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered towards Seokjin, his brother’s interruption breaking the flow of their conversation.

“We have matters to attend to, Seokjin,” Yoongi replied, his tone clipped but not unkind. “Important ones.”

“Rumour has it—” he stood up, ignoring the scarred boy’s dismissal he had known forever, Seokjin’s eyes bore into Yoongi’s, a silent challenge passing between them.

“That while you celebrate the victory, your own household is on fire.” Yoongi’s jaw tightened, a silent acknowledgement of the truth in Seokjin’s words.

“So tell us what is bothering you.” Despite his efforts to maintain his composure, he couldn’t entirely mask the unease that gnawed at him. Reaching the spot where his bride imprinted her hand earlier, he spoke.

“She knows Wang Xiaqing did not give me any blessing to marry her.” He could visibly see his right-hand man pressing his fingers to the root of his notes and sighing loudly. The youngest could not help but chuckle at his leader’s words as he sympathised with Y/N to most. Not enough to help her out of this situation though.

Seokjin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze locking onto Yoongi’s with intensity. The revelation hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the room.

“And how did she come to know this?” Seokjin’s voice was low, a mixture of concern and curiosity. Yoongi’s jaw tensed, his expression clouding over with frustration.

“I gave her the letter without reading it first.”

“Yoongi why the actual fuck you would do that?!” Namjoon’s voice cut through the tension in the room, his anger palpable. Yoongi’s gaze hardened as he turned to face Namjoon, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“Because she was making good progress, and I couldn’t deny it any longer,” Yoongi replied. Namjoon’s expression softened his features, reflecting a mix of sympathy and understanding.

“It does not matter, Hyung, she is your wife and that cannot be undone, right?” Hoseok’s voice carried a note of reassurance when he softly smiled at him.

Seokjin held up a hand, silencing the room. His pointing finger aimed at Yoongi next. “Yes, whatever happens, she is still your wife.”

“Yeah, well, go and tell her that, see if she listens.” Yoongi muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration, sinking back to his armchair. Namjoon exchanged a knowing glance with Seokjin.

“Does she know about your plans for her father’s Triad?” Namjoon’s question hung in the air, injecting a new layer of tension into the room.

Yoongi’s hand was pinching his lip when the question was raised. His eyes on neither of the men questioning him.

“She figured,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Seokjin’s expression tightened, his gaze narrowing as he processed Yoongi’s words. Namjoon’s eyes widened in surprise, his brows furrowing with concern and the rest of the man reflected the same kind of emotions.

“Hyung, but you just said she made progress, right? All will be good.” Namjoon’s question hung in the air, injecting a note of uncertainty into the conversation. Yoongi’s jaw clenched, his mind racing as he considered Namjoon’s words. He had believed that Y/N understood her role in their world, but recent events had shaken that belief to its core.

“I thought she did,” Yoongi murmured, his voice heavy with regret. “But now, I’m not so sure.” The remaining six were staring at their leader, expecting them to fill him in. They needed to know the situation in case little Mrs Min attempted to ruin every ongoing operation by running away.

“Well then, humble her like you always do—” Namjoon began, his tone suggesting a ruthless solution to the problem. The rest of them were not as right with their brother’s drastic intentions. Apart from Seokjin, he knew the young gal enough to know that being soft wouldn’t move her. But Yoongi’s interruption cut through the air like a knife.

“She said my threats are empty.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Yoongi’s words hanging in the air.

“Fucking show her they are not, Yoongi. You’re the Kkangpae, and she is your wife, goddammit.” Namjoon’s frustration boiled over, his voice laced with urgency. They needed her well, alive and here as an obedient and loyal wife.

Yoongi had given her the chance to do so willingly, he had even gone against his trusted men’s words when he suggested she be involved in the business however she liked. He tried to play nice numerous times. In his mind. Not in hers.

Yoongi shall never fully scope how much he took from her. He is selfish enough to never even accept the possibility of letting her go for the better course in their damaged relationship. He always ruled with fear and kindness was only recently added to his vocabulary once he fell in love with her. Deeply, quickly and too hard. Whether he was willing to make that sacrifice, to truly change the way he ruled his empire, remained to be seen.

He wanted to mould her into the perfect wife for a Kkangpae. But he also wished that she would reciprocate his love. He had demanded too much of her, without ever truly understanding the cost. And as he looked around the room at the faces of his most trusted allies, he realised that he was not the only one who had underestimated the strength of her will.

Every one of them thought this matter would be solved after the wedding and she would slowly succumb to what life they offered her. But if there was one thing he was certain of, it was this: he would do whatever it took to keep her by his side, even if it meant confronting the darkest parts of himself in the process.

“I can always fix her, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s jaw clenched as he processed the implication behind Seokjin’s statement.

“That shall be the very last option, aight?” Yoongi finally replied, his voice firm despite the doubt that gnawed at him.

They may not have agreed with his decision, but they recognized the weight of his words. And in that moment, Yoongi thought that he had taken the first step towards redemption. Only to fall back down for what he is going to do.

“You underestimate the power of discontent, brother,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “It festers, grows until it consumes everything in its path. You would do well not to ignore it.”

“I’ll handle it,” he said, his voice filled with determination.

The door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway. Fashionably late, she at least arrived after she made sure that her little brother and mother were safe and sound. She has put him down for his afternoon nap, promising him to make a snowman when he wakes up.

The men’s looks met her eyes with a hint of little something Y/N could not interpret.

“What is it?” She asked carefully, scanning their faces.

“We were just discussing some matters concerning the recent events.” Seokjin steadied his voice and fixed his tie.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the tension in the air, but she forced herself to maintain a calm façade. She stepped further into the room, her eyes flickering between the faces of the men gathered around the table.

“Is there something I need to be aware of?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

“Chan-yeol’s dead,” said Yoongi coldly. She swallowed hard, trying to process the information.

The tension in the room seemed to thicken as the men exchanged guarded glances. Yoongi’s gaze bore into hers, searching for any hint of vulnerability. But Y/N held his stare, refusing to show any weakness in front of him or his associates.

Truth to be told, she did not know how to feel. The man was an accomplice in an act not worthy of heaven’s gate after death. The numbness that was creeping in her brain was spreading further and further.

“Does Daiyu know?” She gulped down the question, avoiding direct eye contact with any of the men.

“She knows. There will not be any funeral as he was a traitor to our clan.”

In their world, traitors were dealt with swiftly and without mercy. There would be no mourning for Chan-yeol, no funeral to honour his memory. He had chosen his path, and now he would face the consequences.

Y/N breathed the thick air of the room deeply in and licked her lips, her teeth scraping the bottom lip, a subconscious gesture of anxiety. The world of the Kkangpae was unforgiving, its rules and consequences absolute.

“Well, if you excuse us Buin, we shall take our leave.” Hoseok sensed that it was the right time to flee this room before more private and intense conversations could start between the man and his wife.

“Of course,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She watched silently as the men filed out of the room one by one, their expressions unreadable as they passed her by. Alone in the room with Yoongi, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that they will not have a pleasant conversation.

She turned to face him, searching his expression for any sign of what was to come. Their inner problems were never concluded, rather set on pause and Y/N had a hunch that Yoongi would not let her earlier shenanigans go.

“I want to speak to her, Yoongi.” She knew that asking to speak with Dayiu was a bold move, especially given the recent events and the strained dynamics between them.

“Why?” he asked, his tone betraying none of his thoughts or emotions.

“I want to express my condolences.”

“Condolences?-” he echoed, the scepticism evident in his tone. What kind of condolence she wanted to express when the very same man was an accomplice of such a sinistrous act.

“She lost a husband and the little boy lost his dad—” He knew Y/N well enough to recognise when she was being genuine and when she was attempting to manipulate the situation to her advantage. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of guardedness, perhaps even suspicion.

“Do you want to perchance tell her to run, dove?” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the directness of his question.

“I want to offer my condolences sincerely,” she replied, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Whatever may have transpired between us should not affect her, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on Y/N, assessing her words and the sincerity behind them. She meant to say that whatever happens in their messed up relationship, Daiyu should never be used as bargain anymore.

“I agree. But you just won’t ever learn, will you?” Their eyes locked, each of them holding their ground in the midst of their complex emotions.

“Yoongi, you ruined my goddamn life. Please don’t expect me to play house with you.”

“I’m offering you the life of a queen and all I ask for in return is obedience, perhaps love in time.” She heard this kind of proclamation way too many times for it to waver her.

“Well, I certainly did not ask for it.” She clasped her hands together, aiming to leave the room and find her cousin.

“Sit your ass back down. I’m not done.”

Y/N froze at Yoongi’s command, her muscles tensing as she slowly turned back to face him. Despite her inner turmoil, she complied, sinking back into the chair with a heavy sigh.

“You needn’t tell her to run. I have no intention to hurt her in particular. She played her part.”

“What else do you want from me, Yoongi?” she asked, her voice laced with frustration and exhaustion, not believing a word he was saying. “Haven’t you taken enough?”

“You needn’t concern yourself with her fate. Focus on your own.” Y/N’s heart sank at his words.

“I want you to see that everything I do, I do for us. For our future.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. Yoongi’s jaw clenched, his frustration palpable.

“I won’t be a part of your game anymore, Yoongi,” she declared, her voice unwavering. “I won’t—” a knock on the double door echoed, interrupting her.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered towards the door, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his features before he composed himself.

“Come in,” he called out, his voice firm. The siblings came just in time. Afterall, the Kkangpae requested their presence.

Dayiu’s eyes were red and swollen, a testament to the grief she carried, while Kai’s expression was hardened, unknowingly walking to a trap.

She greeted the young Kkangpae with a respectful bow. Kai remained silent, his eyes darting between Yoongi and Y/N.

Y/N watched the interaction, her earlier confrontation with Yoongi momentarily set aside in the face of a new development.

The room teetered on the edge of chaos she obviously did not see coming, and the consequences of this confrontation were poised to reshape the dynamics in their relationship. For good, he hoped.

They exchanged small talk with their leader while Y/N sat there silently. Only now and then did she raise a sympathetic look Daiyu’s way. She did not have a chance to speak with her since Chan-yeol drugged her and sold her out just to betray the very same man months later.

Y/N wished to apologise for every single unpleasant discontent she caused to her because of the fire she burnt Yoongi with.

Leaning in close to Daiyu, Y/N whispered her apologies, her words a quiet admission of remorse for the pain she had inadvertently caused.

She reached out, squeezing Y/N’s hand in a gesture of understanding her desire to live her life the way she wants. Daiyu shares the same ambition now that her husband is no longer in the picture. But that is, of course, not going to be granted.

As she was not paying attention to what Yoongi and Kai are further discussing, a mistake on her part. The next shocked her to the core.

Kai went to stand up just to be sent flying to the ground by Yoongi knocking him down. Y/N’s heart lurched with horror.

“Yoongi, what the fuck!” Y/N yelled, shielding Daiyu with her body.

“Missus Park?” Yoongi called. “I would rather you not stay for the next couple of moments.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at Yoongi’s words.

“You see, Missus Park. I need to show my wife just how much my threats are not empty.” His voice was full of violence and Y/N’s heart pounded too loud and hard. She shot a concerned look at Daiyu, silently communicating her support and urging her to leave the room.

“Both of you. Leave, right now!” With a nod of understanding, Dayiu rose from her seat, casting a final glance at Y/N before quietly exiting the room. Panic surged through her veins as she watched Daiyu leave the room, her gaze fixing on Kai, struggling to stand up and run, his eyes reflecting fear.

Yoongi’s gaze locked onto hers, his expression dark and foreboding. She knew she couldn’t escape his wrath, not now.

“Yoongi, stop!” Her palms blunt against his torso, trying to stop him from proceeding further, just to be pushed back to the armchair, little too hard than Yoongi intended to. His mind and fists aimed at the younger boy’s face. Her words fell on deaf ears as Yoongi continued his assault, his rage unchecked and his fury unleashed.

The sickening sound of bone crunching beneath his blows and painful cries from Kai’s mouth was haunting the room. Yoongi dragged him to the nearest wall and pressed his head tightly to the concrete with his hand. The skin of his knuckles was torn and full of blood. Not as much blood as Kai’s face produced after being beaten numerous times. Kai’s painful cry got louder once Yoongi kept pressing his cheek to the wall.

With each crunch of bone and each agonised cry that echoed through the room, Y/N’s desperation grew. She knew she had to act, to do something to protect Kai from further harm.

“Yoongi, this is all me. Punish me!” She scrambled to her feet, her hands shaking with fear and adrenaline as she desperately tried to intervene, to stop Yoongi from inflicting any more harm on Kai. She did not expect him to take a hit on Kai, he followed his orders thoroughly, the younger boy even pledged his loyalty to him. Y/N's mind scratched his name from the list, another mistake on her part.

Y/N’s voice cracked with emotion as she made her desperate plea, hoping to redirect Yoongi’s rage away from Kai and onto herself. She knew she was risking everything by putting herself in the line of fire, but she couldn’t bear to see Kai suffer any longer.

“I was thinking you know—” said the scarred leader. With each passing moment, the weight of their situation pressed down on her, threatening to suffocate her with its overwhelming intensity.

“Forbidding you from this and that won’t work on you nor killing a worthless maid—”

Yoongi’s voice trailed off, his gaze turning back to Kai, whose head was battered and bloodied pressed to the wall, so painful that his consciousness was waning. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for Yoongi’s next move, unsure of what to expect.

“—but hurting someone you care about...” His voice was chilling, the threat implicit in his words. Y/N’s blood ran cold as she realised the full extent of Yoongi’s intentions. He was using Kai as a pawn in his twisted game, manipulating her emotions to bend her to his will.

“His life and blood are on your hands, love.”

She looked into Kai’s eyes, seeing the pain and terror reflected in them, knowing that his fate now rested in her hands. Yoongi did not plan to kill him altogether, he just wanted her to succumb to submission and obedience.

“No, Yoongi, please!” she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. But Yoongi’s expression remained cold and impassive, his resolve unyielding. She felt as though her soul was being torn apart, torn between her love for Kai and her desperate need to protect him.

She had had enough. She had seen enough. And she was ready to give up her life to save his. Y/N thought about this option way too often lately. Whether her sacrifice would be enough to save Kai from further harm remained to be seen.

In that moment of desperation and despair, Y/N’s mind raced as she weighed her options. The thought of sacrificing herself to protect Kai from further harm consumed her thoughts, and with a sense of grim determination, she reached for the same unfortunate knife that saved her from her father’s wrath before.

With a steady hand, she withdrew the weapon, its cold metal glinting in the dim light of the room.

“Y/N…” he had to look back at her twice before he realised what was going on. Yoongi’s gaze flickered toward her, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes as he realised her intentions. But before he could react, Y/N pressed the blade against her own throat, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and resolve.

“Let him go Yoongi, or I swear I will do it,” she declared, her voice quavering but firm. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they all grappled with the gravity of the situation. Y/N waited, her hand steady against her throat, her gaze unwavering as she dared Yoongi to make his next move.

Yoongi’s hand left the already fractured skull of his wife’s cousin, and Kai slumped down by the wall, grunting loudly. The scarred leader who thought is holding the young gal in chess mate was taken aback by the sudden turn of events.

“I let him go, baby, now put the blade away.” Y/N hesitated, her grip on the sharp letter opener tightening involuntarily.

The rush of adrenaline had drowned out her fear momentarily, leaving her with a fierce determination to stand her ground.

“No,” she said firmly, her voice tinged with defiance. Yoongi took a step towards her small form. Her eyes crimson red, tears streaming down as she said that.

“We can talk—”

“It always starts with a talk, Yoongi, doesn't it?” Y/N interrupted, her voice trembling with emotion but her resolve unwavering. She held the knife steady, its blade gleaming in the dim light of the room.

Yoongi’s expression darkened, a mixture of frustration and anger flashing across his features. He took another step closer, his gaze locked on Y/N’s determined face. He was afraid and the young leader was only afraid of one thing. Losing her.

“Love, fuck, please I beg you to put it down, baby.” Y/N shook her head again.

“I told you I am your weakness, Yoongi, now you see for yourself.”

For the first time in a long time, Yoongi felt truly afraid. Not for himself, but for Y/N. He knew that he had pushed her too far, that his actions had driven her to this desperate act. And as he stood before her, pleading to put down the knife, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that he had already lost her.

He had always prided himself on his ability to maintain control in any situation, but now, faced with the prospect of losing Y/N, he felt powerless. He made her go mad.

As Yoongi reached out his hand towards her, a silent plea in his eyes, Y/N knew she couldn’t back down. It is him who will never learn, not her. Pressing the knife tighter, piercing the first layer of the skin, painting the blade red. A thin crimson line trickled down her neck making Yoongi’s eyes widen in panic. She could not feel a thing through the adrenaline and post traumatic experience from the events that led her to close her mind and not feel, her eyes were still fixated on him and how terrified he looked.

“Y/N, please,-” he begged, his voice raw with emotion. Now it was her who remained unmoved, her eyes blazing with defiance as she held her ground.

“Say it, Yoongi.” She declared. Giving him the taste of his own medicine. And the dark sickening part of Yoongi knew that he had finally met his match. She wanted him to suffer just as much as he made her suffer.

“I’m so sorry, love,-” what he always forced her to say, thinking he is teaching her of accountability, now left his lips. Yet, he could never be accountable for his own actions, could he?

“You’ve taken my life from me!” her voice filled with bitterness and resentment.

“I know,-” he whispered, gulping down the lump in his throat. His voice was heavy with remorse that did not reach sincerity. “And I will spend the rest of my life trying—”

“Fuck you! You are like a broken record, a lying one!” She had seen through his façade, seen the darkness that lurked beneath his composed exterior, and she refused to let him off the hook so easily. But he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, couldn’t bear the thought of spending the rest of his life haunted by the memories of what he had done.

“I will do everythi—”

“But you will never let me go.”

For a moment, Yoongi was speechless, his mind racing as he grappled with the realisation that he had pushed her too far. There were no words he could say to make her put the blade down from her neck. The absence of words only confirmed hers.

“The only blood I shall have on my hands shall be mine.”

He immediately crossed the distance to reach out - to stop her - to tell her that he would do anything to make things right, but he knew it was too late for that.

“NO!”

With a desperate scream from his mouth, Yoongi watched as Y/N swiftly swiped the blade against her own skin, cutting deeper, painting the qipao embroidered with pink roses and green leaves she was clad in crimson red with her hot blood.

author's note: sheesh, here we go, i thought that no chapter will be hard for me to write since the last one, but this one did a number on me tbh. But more importantly for yall my beautiful chummers, if you feel like this is the end you imagined for lacrimosa and y/n, I strongly encourage you to not proceed to read the following chapters. Not every piece of media is meant for everybody and I totally respect if the way in which will lacrimosa continue won't be everyone's cup of tea or simply not the trope they wanted. I hold the pen and I love yall, I won't change the outline of lacrimosa I planned because of relativity tho. Therefore, those who are satisfied with this kind of ending - I love you, I'm grateful, and I thank you hundred times that you took the time to read this fic. Those who wants to follow the "couple" a bit more, stay tuned and patient for other chapters. I love you 🫧♡ ︎

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers 🫧♡ ︎

lots of love, p.

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