#SUGA

[yooniivrse]

yoongi drabbles | masterlist

summary. a collection of all my yoongi drabbles

m.list | moodboard | playlist | taglist

f - fluff | a - angst | s - suggestive | m - mature (smut)

BITTER COFFEES (f) (a) – 1.7k

summary. the last person you expect at your door at 4 am is yoongi. but his presence is like a blanket of comfort that helps soothe your aching heart.

MELTED KISSES (f) (s) – 1.9k

summary. yoongi's kisses are always sickly sweet. but the taste of melted sugar on his lips makes you crave him more than the plate of sugar coated fruits.

HEALING TOUCHES (f) – 2.2k

summary. sometimes, your boyfriend's tender touches and caring actions help heal your fragile state faster than any medication.

POTTERY DATE (f) – 1.1k

summary. you never expected to find pottery so difficult, so it's a good thing that your boyfriend is right there, ready to help guide you with his gentle hands.

EARLY MORNINGS (f) – 1k

summary. when time seems to bend every morning and love speaks through tender touches and quiet reassurances.

FACE MASKS (f) (a?) - 1.9k

summary. in which your presence is enough to lighten his toughest days—even if it means resorting to face masks at midnight

BOUQUET (f) - 1.3k

summary. every day with you serves as a reminder that you are, in fact, the best thing that has happened to him

MOVING IN (f) - 3k

summary. in which moving in together isn't as simple as it seems, but no task is herculean with yoongi by your side

SUNLIT SHORES (f) (s) - 5.5k

summary. in which you convince yoongi to take a (very much needed) break to spend time with you by the beach for a few days

dividers by enchanthings

[for-yoongi0309]

90 DAYS TILL MIN YOONGI IS HOME

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - You Get a Job as Their Assistant

A/N: I'm so turning this into a series 🦊

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

Your friend Lucas got you the job when you reconnected at your high school reunion. You were fresh out of college and although this wasn't exactly your dream job, it was a good opportunity until you could find something in your line of work. It was your first day and you couldn't have been more nervous. Your friend, who was a bodyguard for the boss, didn't say much about what the company did but the pay was more than generous so you accepted.

Jin

A lady from human resources showed you to your desk. You were at the topmost floor of the skyscraper and had to pass half a dozen security points before you reached your new job post.

"Here are all of your passwords," said the lady whose name you had sadly forgotten immediately after the introduction and handed you a sheet of paper. "You guard these with your life, you hear me? Best if you memorize them all and destroy this - don't just throw it anywhere," she warned and fixed her glasses. You nodded although you couldn't help but feel like it was all a bit excessive.

You sat down behind the large desk and signed into all of the programs listed on the sheet when suddenly a young man walked right past you and made for the office.

"Excuse me, you can't go in there," you said as you quickly jumped up and came around your desk.

The young man turned around and took in your presence. He measured your face and waited for you to look away but you were confident not to mess up your first day.

"Why not?" he asked politely. You were caught off guard for a moment by his good manners as you were prepared for nothing short of a heated argument.

His amused gaze shifted between your eyes as you collected your thoughts.

"You need to make an appointment first," you cleared your throat and stood your ground. A small smile crept into the handsome man's eyes as he watched you with an equal measure of interest as you him.

"Is Mr Kim in his office?" he asked almost quietly.

"No, he is not here at the moment but like I said, I can schedule an appointment," you restated politely with a small smile that refused to leave your lips under his warm brown eyes.

"Do you know when he will be in?"

"I don't but I can inquire if you wish," you crossed your arms over your chest, feeling like you're knocking it out of the park protecting your boss's office.

"That's okay," said the man softly as the corner of his lips curved into a small smile.

The elevator door slid open with a chime, making both of you turn around. The lady from HR rushed towards you.

"Mr Kim! I'm so sorry, I was going to speak to you about the new hire this morning but as your schedule changed-"

"It's alright, Margaret," said the man and realization hit you. Heat rushed up your neck and settled in your cheeks as your eyes grew wide and your mouth went dry.

"This is Mrs Y/N - she will be your assistant whilst Iseul is on maternity leave," said Margaret and gestured towards you.

"We've just met," said Mr Kim with a smile so warm it would have melted your heart if not for the absolute embarrassment you were suffering through. He offered you his hand and you shook it.

"I'm really sorry, Mr Kim," you said quickly as Margaret's gaze switched between the two of you in confusion.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Mrs Y/N," he said, his eyes smiling. "You were excellent. Very..." He measured you for a moment. "Confident."

You couldn't help but laugh as you felt anything but although his attempt at reassuring you helped. He smiled and you knew you were done for. Butterflies woke in your stomach and your heart felt as light as a feather.

Namjoon

It was a few minutes to eight when you walked into the company elevator. You felt good because the idea of being late on your first day of work had been stressing out you all night. The instructions sheet they gave you prior to your two-day training explicitly said in bold how Mr Kim valued punctuation and you were even going to be a few minutes early today.

You pressed the number of the executive floor and just as the door began to close, a hand caught it open. A tall young man joined you in the elevator. You offered him a smile when he entered and made some space. His eyes lingered on your smile for a moment as if it caught him off guard. His perfume filled the elevator although your fragrance had the same effect on him only moments ago. He looked at the elevator buttons but apparently you went to the same destination.

You wondered what he did in the executive floor. Maybe Mr Kim had two assistants and you would work together although that didn't seem likely given how elegantly this man was dressed and how he carried himself.

The elevator stopped halfway up and let in two more passengers: an older and a younger man.

"Ah, Mr Kim," greeted the older and made you freeze. "We've just taken care of the thing we discussed last night," he informed the man who was going to the executive floor with you. Your eyes fixed on the three figures beside you as you tried to make sense of it. You wanted to slap yourself for not googling what your boss looked like but you were sure he was an older man that you'd recognize as the CEO in an instant.

Mr Kim's gaze caught your eyes and you looked away immediately, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You looked ahead of yourself until the two passengers got off. The door closed and again it was just the two of you.

"You're Mr Kim Namjoon?" you asked him after a few moments. Your tone was polite and yet confident as you turned to your boss. He looked at you amused, interested and surprised at the same time although he hid those emotions as fast as he showed them.

"I am," he said, his quiet voice coming from deep within his chest.

"I'm Y/N L/N," you introduced yourself and offered him your hand in shake. "I'm your new assistant."

You could see something shift in his hard eyes although you couldn't tell what it was. He accepted your hand, losing it in his large one.

"I'm sorry for not recognizing you earlier," you said as your hands grew clammy holding your elegant bag. You were good at showing confidence even if in truth you were nervous or afraid.

"It's alright," said Mr Kim genuinely although his voice remained a deep rumble. There was only a few floors left to the top. "You came at a high recommendation from your boyfriend, Mrs Y/N."

You looked at your boss, your eyebrows raised and your body frozen.

"What boyfriend?" you blurted as your expression quickly turned into a frown. The amusement and interest returned to Mr Kim's eyes.

"Did Lucas say he is my boyfriend?" you asked in all confidence as the thought made you angry. You had your suspicions that he might have liked you but you didn't want a job offer where something was expected in turn other than friendship.

"Perhaps it's my mistake," said your boss, his quiet but powerful voice grounding you. A gentle smile gathered in his eyes.

"In any case, I am not dating anybody," you concluded calmly although no less proudly. You were sick of people, even your friends and family, telling you to find someone or try to belittle you for being single. You enjoyed being alone and you were done having others attribute your value on the basis of having or not having a boyfriend.

The elevator door opened and both of you waited for the other to exit first. When Mr Kim didn't move, you thanked him and exited although you could feel his eyes burn through your neck.

Yoongi

It was your first day at work and it's been a long time since you had been this nervous. If it were a job more closely related to your field of interest, you might have felt more confident. This was something you accepted just because the pay was excellent and there were no other opportunities presenting to you.

The HR had you in for a two-day preparation and made you learn a protocol sheet of conduct, your boss's habits and all of the dos and don'ts.

You've been at work for two hours already but the office was empty. You knew from his schedule that Mr Min was in a meeting on the other side of the city.

You looked up when the elevator door opened, revealing a gloomy and even formidable-looking young man. He walked with a purpose, deep in thought, and didn't pay you the slightest mind.

"Excuse me!" you said and jumped from your chair as you saw him march straight for the office. You weren't allowed to let anyone in without your boss's presence or explicit permission.

"Excuse me, you cannot go in there," you said and stepped in the man's path. He stopped although for a moment you thought he might just storm through you. He was someone who worked out because his frame was twice the size of yours; if he wanted to enter the office, there was really no realistic possibility of you stopping him. Still, your crossed your arms over your chest and refused to let go of the eye contact.

The young man's gaze shifted between your eyes. He was like a cat deciding whether to scratch you or grant you some of his attention.

"If you want to see Mr Min, you have to make an appointment first," you said more gently. His dark eyes studied you further until you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. For as much as you tried not to think about it, he was so handsome it made your heart flutter.

"But I'm Mr Min," he said slowly and calmly as ever as you grew aware of the small gap of space between you.

You stared at him, your eyes wide and your neck prickling with heat.

"But he's old," you blurted out loud and caused a smile in your boss's eyes. For some reason you had gotten it in your head that 'Mr Min' was an older man with graying hair and possibly a goatee.

"I'm not that old," he said slightly amused as if he did actually feel old despite his early thirties.

"But... You don't drink coffee?" you kept blurting out all the wrong things, the things you remembered from your protocol sheet. He narrowed his eyes at you no less amused. His hard, gloomy features were slowly melting and made your cheeks even redder.

"I drink coffee," said Mr Min. His voice was deep and rolled slowly.

You nodded, "But decaf and you prefer tea."

"I prefer tea now," he agreed. It was your turn to study him. His outfit, his watch and his shoes, the assured way in which he stood and spoke.

Your hands grew clammy as you smoothed down the sleeve of your elegant shirt. "I'm sorry," you began, feeling your heart rise to your throat. "I just had a... a different mental image of who my boss would be," you explained heavily and waited for him to fire you on your first day.

"I hope it changed for the better," said Mr Min, catching you off guard.

"Of course," you confirmed almost too quickly and he nodded. As he walked past you to his office, you remembered the protocol sheet again.

"Do you want some tea?"

He turned around and studied you. The smile spread from his eyes to his lips, waking up the butterflies in your stomach.

"Sure," he nodded and disappeared into his office. You shut your eyes because you knew you were done for.

Hoseok

It was your first day as the assistant in one of the most profitable companies in your area. You had barely made it to the office when the phone rang, asking coffee to be brought for your boss who was on his way. You grabbed your purse and the company card they gave you and went to the nearby cafe to grab a double-shot-of-espresso iced Americano.

"First day and already taking coffee breaks, huh?" asked a familiar voice when you returned to the company. You stopped on your tracks in the middle of the lobby and saw your friend Lucas.

"I'm just teasing you," he grinned when he saw the puzzled expression on your face. "How's it been so far?"

"Hi, sorry," you shook your head a little and smiled. "Good, they just showed me the programs and the technical stuff this morning, so..." You nodded.

"Good, great," Lucas nodded as well. "You look nice," he said and touched your shoulder before he left.

"Thanks," lingered on your lips as your face grew warm. You couldn't find the time to think twice about it, though, and hurried to the topmost floor.

You smoothed your skirt and fixed your shirt before you knocked on the door and waited for the invitation.

"Come in," said a voice absently. You entered the office, trying to keep as much confidence as you could.

"Good morning," you said politely. You almost stopped on your tracks when you saw a young man sitting behind your boss's desk although you quickly realized it was actually your boss. For some reason you had expected an older man, maybe in his fifties.

"I have your coffee, sir," you said as you set down his iced Americano. Mr Jung looked up from the documents that have been keeping his attention. His eyebrows furrowed into a frown as his eyes burned through you.

"Who hired you?" he asked and took you by surprise. You stared at him for a moment, you gaze shifting between his intense dark eyes.

"I... The human resources?" you spoke much less confidently as when you first entered the luxurious office.

Mr Jung stared at you, his frown only worsening.

"I was told your previous assistant is permanently indisposed," you tried although your intonation was still more that of a question rather than a statement.

Something shifted in Mr Jung's hard gaze. "Right," he said almost indifferently, then finally looked at you properly.

"Who are you?" he asked, not impolitely.

"I'm Y/N, Y/N L/N, your new assistant," you introduced yourself and offered your hand. "If you'll have me." You tried to lift the mood some.

Mr Jung's gaze moved to your hand then back to your smile.

"Jung Hoseok," he said as he finally accepted your hand in shake. Mr Jung stood up behind his desk. "Lucas's recommendation," he thought out loud as he narrowed his eyes at you. The attention made fever gather up your neck and cheeks.

"Yes, sir," you confirmed although something about your boss intimidated you. You thought you were confident but he was so self-assured of his actions that it made you uneasy.

His eyes measured yours once again. "Thank you, Mrs Y/N."

"Of course," you gave a small nod and a smile before you turned on your heel and hid the feverish blush that colored your face on your way out.

Jimin

You sat down at your desk and watched your superior disappear in the elevator. A breath of relief escaped your lungs followed by an even greater anxiety. Your boss wasn't in yet according to the HR lady but you still needed to take phone calls and schedule meetings.

You smoothed the white cuff of the tailored shirt you had bought especially for your first day at this job. When they gave you the instructions, dress code was one of them. It's not that you usually didn't look put together, it's just that the position made you nervous as it involved an entire protocol sheet of rules and a good outfit always spiked your confidence.

The phone rang suddenly and you answered without thinking of what you were going to say.

"Mr Park's office," you said instinctively as your face flushed and you felt as if you had never had a conversation before in your life.

The person introduced herself. She was some businessman's assistant and wanted to schedule an appointment. You turned to the computer and checked your boss's schedule.

"How's Thursday-" you suggested when suddenly you noticed a young man in front of your desk. He wore a dark suit and a crisp white shirt. His hands were resting in his pockets as he studied you.

Your eyes grew wide as you forgot your words but the assistant on the other side agreed on Thursday. A small smile of amusement crept onto the man's lips. You finished the call and got up.

"I'm Y/N," you introduced yourself and offered your hand. "You must be Mr Park."

His gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he accepted your hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs Y/N." The smile shifted from his lips to his eyes.

"Walk with me," he invited and you followed, grabbing your tablet on the way. You told him the schedule for the day as he lead the way into his office. He took of his suit jacket and hung it over the side of a sofa before he sat down in his chair.

"And you have lunch with a Mr Min Yoongi on Thursday, 3 pm, at the Monarch," you informed him last of the appointment you just made. As you looked up from your tablet, you became acutely aware of his sharp gaze.

"I prefer Celeste," he said calmly although you could almost see him firing you on the spot. Both of the restaurants were so high-end that you couldn't help but know them as they were all over the news, however, you were also provided with a list of locations when you started the job. Both of the restaurants were on the list although Mr Park's preference must have been a recent development.

"I can rearrange it," you offered immediately, already thinking of the other man's assistant and the excuses you were going to pour out to her.

Your boss's deep brown eyes rested on you. Thoughts glistened in his irises as you waited. Your hands grew clammy and your cheeks flushed with heat.

"It's alright," he said to your surprise as the hard look in his eyes softened some. "I might start preferring the Monarch."

You didn't understand what he meant but you nodded nevertheless. As you turned around and walked out, you could feel your boss's gaze burn through you back.

Taehyung

Although your friend described the job as his boss's secretary, it seemed more like a personal assistant when they asked you to come a few days early for training. They showed you the programs and gave you an entire protocol sheet of what to say and what not to say - be it to the people over the phone or to your boss himself. You were on call most of the weekends but the salary was triple and you were hoping to save some money so it didn't bother you as much.

You looked up your boss Mr Kim Taehyung before starting today. There was only one normal photo of him that you could find and it was on the company's official web page. Everything else seemed like paparazzi photos. You were surprised of how young he was for such a position and even found an article that ranked him in the ten richest people in the country.

There was no dress code for the job although already in training you noticed everyone was extremely put together. You wore a creamy white pencil skirt and a fitted but elegant top. The outfit gave you some confidence as you were nervous for your first day.

Right at the top of the enormous building, there was your heavy desk guarding the way into Mr Kim's office. You had been in since 8 am but it was five past nine already and still it was just you. You had taken some calls and rescheduled some appointments when the elevator door opened and you saw your friend Lucas. He waited beside the elevator until your boss exited.

Mr Kim had almost walked past you when he finally noticed your presence. One of his hands rested in his pocket and there was a busy look in his eyes until his gaze fixed on you.

You stood up to introduce yourself but Lucas did it for you.

"Boss, this is Y/N," he said, drawing Mr Kim's attention to himself although his sharp gaze lingered on you a moment longer. Suddenly, you realized why everyone was so put together in the office, whether they worked on the first, tenth or thirtieth floor. No matter how hard they tried to look good, their boss would always look better, seeming as if he just walked out of a Pinterest aesthetic board.

His gaze slowly turned back to you.

"I'm Y/N L/N," you said for yourself before Lucas could go on and offered your hand. Mr Kim's body language was like that of an elegant cat - moving slowly but with so much confidence it was intimidating.

He took your hand and gave it an assured but gentle squeeze.

"Kim Taehyung," he spoke with a velvety voice that made goosebumps rise on your arms.

Lucas was about to say something.

"Thank you, Lucas," said Mr Kim instead and dismissed him. Your friend nodded and threw you a reassuring smile before he disappeared in the elevator.

"You have my schedule?" Mr Kim turned to you next. Although his voice was smooth like velvet it was also as cold as ice.

"Of course," you said quickly and grabbed your tablet before you followed him into his office. You told him the appointments for the day and informed him of the more important meetings coming up that week whilst he took a seat at his heavy desk.

"A Mr Kim Namjoon wants to see you. They suggested drinks at the Imperial, tomorrow, 9 pm?" you concluded with the most recent call.

Your boss nodded but the thoughts in his eyes were far from what you had just been discussing.

"Does your boyfriend always insist on speaking for you?" he asked, catching you off guard. Your eyebrows rose.

"W-What boyfriend?" you blurted as your gaze froze on Mr Kim and a sharp breath paused in your lungs. A blush began to creep to your cheeks.

He watched you and you him until you realized what he was implying.

"You... You mean Lucas?" your eyes widened. "We- He- He's not my boyfriend, not at all. We're friends, well, acquaintances - I barely know him," you struggled to form your scattered thoughts. Your cheeks turned fully red now and your mouth grew as dry as if you just had a spoonful of sand.

"Is that... Is that a problem?" you asked carefully as you couldn't read the expression on your boss's face. Even if he told you to pack your things, you wouldn't have been surprised.

"No." Mr Kim's eyes held you for a moment longer before you managed a nod. You took your tablet and excused yourself although you could still feel his gaze on your back as you left his office.

Jungkook

Although they had showed you how to use the programs and how to be most effective at your new job, at least in theory, you couldn't help but feel your stomach churn at the sight of the massive desk waiting for you.

"If you need anything, I'm just a phone call and seventeen floors away," said the HR lady who both interviewed as well as showed you around. "Mr Jeon is on a conference call, otherwise I'd introduce you. He knows you're here, though," she explained and you nodded gratefully.

Before long you were on your own. You signed into the programs and checked your boss's schedule. At first there were just a few phone calls to take and some meetings to confirm. Talking on the phone proved to be less intimidating once you got the hang of it. The only person you actually talked to and not texted over the phone was your mom.

When the phone sounded next, however, and the call came from inside the office, your stomach twisted into knots. Still, you picked up immediately as to not keep your boss waiting.

"They're sending in the files from Kyoto. I want them on my desk by ten," said a voice on the other side before you could even manage a hello. He hung up just as quickly, leaving you without any significant information.

You quickly checked your email if there was something Japan-related in your inbox but there were no unopened messages. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you searched frantically through the programs but you couldn't find anything remotely related to what your boss said. You checked your wristwatch, noting you only had a good fifteen minutes left to complete your task.

You called your superior from the HR office, telling her exactly what he told you. She was at your desk in no time and yet not nearly as fast as you would have hoped.

"Whenever there's something you don't know, call me immediately, okay?" she said as she leaned in front of your computer. "He gets irritated when things aren't done right."

"The Kyoto office sends things directly to Mr Jeon's email, not yours. They don't like intermediaries, especially when it comes to sensitive information."

Your superior logged into Mr Jeon's email.

"I have access to his email?" you asked perplexed.

"His work email, yes."

She warned you about not being allowed to use your boss's email to send out things, only to retrieve files. The documents began printing in the corner of the room but there were dozens of pages and it was five past ten already. Your heart was pounding as your superior rushed to solve another emergency and you waited for the printer to stop.

You fixed your white cardigan top that matched nicely with your dark skirt before you gathered the papers and quickly bound them. You grabbed the heavy pile of documents and gently knocked on the door of Mr Jeon's office.

"Come in," he said as you remembered the rules from the protocol sheet they gave you.

You turned the handle and came inside, your heart pounding against your chest. You were caught off guard when you saw how young your boss was. You had expected a man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and a navy blue suit as opposed to someone not much older than you in a plain black t-shirt.

"I said I wanted them by ten," he spoke with the same measure of reprimand and annoyance. He didn't bother to raise his gaze from the papers in front of him.

"I apologize, I was... I had some technical difficulties," you said and placed the documents on the left wing of his desk. Your boss looked up as if awoken from his thoughts. His eyebrows hung in a frown as his gaze followed you.

"It won't happen again," you said and waited a moment, half expecting him to fire you on the spot. He nodded instead and got up. Mr Jeon walked around his desk and came up to you. He stopped no more than two feet away from you, studying you with his dark gaze. It took everything in you not to take a step back. Your heart was hammering against your throat as you did everything in your power to maintain eye contact. There was a ring in his lip and tattoos scattered down his arm.

"Can I get you something else?" you asked, trying to sound as confident as possible although your voice nearly cracked beneath the weight of your boss's frown.

He studied you for a moment longer before he shook his head and returned to his seat. "That's all, thank you."

You nodded and released the breath you didn't know you had been holding. As you walked outside, you could feel his gaze burn through your back but you didn't dare turn around.

[poutyniall]

One time for the present, two times for the past

[escapismbook]

ESCAPISM CHAPTER SEVEN

Chapter Seven | Vincenzo

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)

→ AUs: non idol!au→ Genre(s): dark romance, smut, mature, mafia

→ Trope(s): professor-student, forbidden romance, dark, sin-evil, passion, slow-burn, seductive, mafia

→ Rating: mature/explicit (this is mature/explicit content, so you have been warned.)

→ Word count: 3.1k

→ warnings + triggers: explicit smut, (female) OC is innocent and pure and Yoongi is desperate for her. Drug use, Strong language, Explicit scenes, Mentions of S.A, Violence, Dark Themes, Crime Elements, Alcohol, Club setting, Obsession, Possessive, Protective Love, Emotional.

→ Author’s note: Escapism is a dark romance—intense, poetic, and deeply atmospheric. It explores desire, deception, and the pull of the forbidden. This story contains mature themes, including:   

This story is also written by two authors. Both working on the two couple. Please read with caution. For those who stay, welcome to a world where love and darkness intertwine.

Dedication: Reaches out to cup your cheek, "now be a good girl for me."

(Don't forget to like and comment.)

A small note: When you see the italic font, it means they are speaking in Korean.

SONGS FOR THE CHAPTER |

Nina Simone • I Put a Spell On You

Halsey • Young God

Three days passed in silence. If anyone were to look at Aalia, they would think nothing had happened between her and Yoongi in the car that night. She carried herself with the same quiet grace, the same polite indifference. She did not stumble over her words, did not flinch when she heard his voice in the lecture hall. It was as if she had erased the moment entirely, wiped it clean from her mind. The only time she spoke to him was when he called her name during registration, and even then, it was just a simple, monotone "here." Nothing more. Nothing less.

But he watched her in class, his dark eyes trailing her every movement. She was determined to keep her distance, but it only made him want her more. She was avoiding him, and yet, she was still there, still in his reach, still breathing the same air as him. He could tell she felt his gaze, the way her fingers sometimes twitched when she turned a page in her notebook, the way she adjusted her cross pendant absentmindedly when she thought no one was looking. But she never met his eyes.

And still, he had her cardigan. She had left it in his car in her hurry to escape that night, and he hadn’t given it back. He wasn’t planning to. The soft fabric still carried her scent, something warm and sweet, something purely her. It was a small piece of her, a fragment, and for now, it was enough.

That night, Vincenzo stood in the heart of Seoul, its grandeur veiled under the illusion of just another high-end restaurant. But to those who knew—those who moved in the shadows—it was a different kind of empire. Crimson red, black, gold, and jade green adorned its interiors, reflecting the wealth and power of those who owned it. The Min family’s influence lingered in every corner, though no one outside their world was aware.

The event was for the students who had passed their modules, a celebration of their achievements. Though dining was optional, most were here to drink, to socialize, to bask in their own success. It was an evening of formalities wrapped in elegance. Professors and students alike gathered in tailored suits and delicate gowns, glasses clinking, polite laughter spilling into the air

Aalia sat at an empty table, scrolling through her phone, idly fidgeting with the golden cross pendant resting against her collarbone. No one was at her table; they had all wandered off to either drink at the bar, or dance, leaving her alone. But she didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she looked relieved to be by herself, away from the noise, the laughter, the attention.

And that’s when she saw him. Aalia caught sight of Yoongi walking toward her table. His dark eyes were locked onto her.

“Don’t-“ but before she could even began to finish her sentence, he sat down next to her.

The space between them vanished in an instant, the heat of his body brushing against her own like a whispered sin. His cologne—dark spice and something deeply masculine—curled into her senses, setting her nerves alight. “It’s cute how you think you can tell me what to do, darling,” he murmured, his voice rich with amusement, a slow-burning drawl that wrapped around her like silk. There was something almost lazy in the way he spoke, but the undercurrent of control was unmistakable. His lips curved at the corners, predatory, teasing.

She ignored him. She had to. If she let herself react, she was certain she would combust right there in her seat. Her fingers twitched as she placed her phone face-down on the table, her cheeks burning with heat she couldn’t control. Her stomach twisted in something unfamiliar—something that felt dangerously close to anticipation.

oongi watched her with dark amusement, taking in every detail—the way her delicate fingers curled slightly against the surface of the table, the way her throat moved when she swallowed, the way the dim light played with the soft strands of her half-up, half-down hair. And then his gaze swept lower, taking in the black dress that clung to her frame, the elegant neckline that left the gentle slope of her collarbones exposed. She looked untouchable. Pure. A vision of something that had no place sitting next to a man like him.

"Don't you think you're a little too close?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, her voice steady despite the fire in her veins.

He exhaled a soft chuckle, dark and knowing. "No," he said simply. It was the kind of answer that left no room for argument, as if the thought itself was ridiculous to him.

His gaze flickered downward, catching the way her left thigh crossed over her right leg, the exposed skin of her calf tempting in the dim lighting. Something dark and wicked curled in his chest, and before he could think better of it, his hand slipped beneath the table. His fingertips barely grazed the back of her calf, a slow, featherlight touch that traveled up and down, barely there, yet enough to send an electric jolt through her.

“So you haven’t thought about the kiss?” he asked, his voice quiet, deliberate, each word laced with something dangerous. His fingers continued their slow, teasing path, dragging up and down the soft skin of her calf, as if daring her to lie.

Aalia forced herself to hold his gaze, refusing to let him see how much he affected her. "Not once," she answered, her voice steady, but he caught the slight tremor in her fingers as they curled into her lap.

Without warning, his fingers pressed slightly into her skin, not rough, just firm enough to remind her of his presence, of his control. A small, knowing smirk played on his lips as he watched her expression falter, just for a second.

Then, slowly, deliberately, his touch traveled lower, wrapping around her ankle. His fingers locked around the delicate bone, his grip not harsh, but unyielding, possessive. A silent warning. A silent promise.

He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “Liar,” he murmured. The word was soft, but it sent something sharp and electric through her, curling deep into her spine, unraveling everything she was trying to keep together.

He watched as she bit the side corner of her mouth, her teeth grazing the softness of her lower lip, a fleeting moment of hesitation he caught instantly. Aalia was trying—struggling—to keep her mouth shut, and he could see it in the way her jaw tensed, in the way her fingers curled slightly against the table as if grounding herself. He found it amusing. No, more than that. He found it intoxicating. Watching her fight against the urge to say something witty, something sharp and burning, was like watching an angel teeter on the edge of damnation. And he wanted nothing more than to push her over.

He leaned in, close enough that she could feel his breath against her skin, his voice a silken whisper. "Don’t be shy," he murmured. "Tell me what you want to say, Aalia." The way he said her name, like he was swaying her into temptation.

She exhaled sharply through her nose, as if trying to compose herself, before speaking through gritted teeth. "You're insufferable," she said, her voice laced with annoyance, yet something deeper, something she refused to acknowledge. "And I don’t want you kissing me anymore."

For the first time, his smirk faltered, only for a fraction of a second, but it was there. The very thought was inconceivable. He could not imagine a reality where his lips never claimed hers again, where he never got to taste the warmth of her, the soft gasp she made when he took control. It was impossible.

His fingers, which had been tracing up and down the back of her calf beneath the table, now pressed in slightly, just enough to make her breath hitch. "You need a lesson in submission," he said lowly, his voice nothing but a sinful promise.

Her jaw clenched. "I said it before," she said, her eyes burning into his. "You fuck all your students, sir?"

His lips curled into something dark and amused. "No," he said simply, staring straight into her soul. "Just you."

"You didn't."

"Not yet," he murmured, his voice thick with certainty. "But I will."

The air between them was molten, charged with something dangerous and inescapable. He was the devil himself, whispering sweet, dark things into her ear, offering her the apple with a knowing smirk. And she—his angel, his pure and untarnished little saint—was fighting a losing battle.

Aalia tilted her head slightly, something almost taunting in her gaze, though the innocence in her eyes betrayed her. It was like she was trying to be something she wasn’t, and he found it both arousing and endearing. "What happened to when you said you would be patient?" she asked, her voice laced with quiet challenge.

He chuckled, deep and smooth, shaking his head slightly. "I am being patient," he admitted. "I just don’t like the thought of not being able to touch you." His words dripped into her veins like honeyed poison, slow and intoxicating.

Aalia inahled, like she was trying to calm herself and she turned her head, looking away.

His mind drifted for a moment, thoughts slipping into forbidden places. He knew she had never been with anyone. He was the only man who had ever touched her, kissed her, made her feel this way. And yet, all he could think about was what she would sound like moaning his name, her voice trembling as she gasped beneath him. .

"What?" Aalia's sharp voice snapped him from his thoughts.

His gaze refocused, the corner of his lips twitching. "Nothing," he said smoothly, voice deep and teasing. "Just admiring the view."

She exhaled a short, disbelieving laugh. "I shall bid you goodnight," she said and stood up.

He didn’t stop her. He simply watched as she moved through the restaurant, her dress swaying with each step, her golden cross pendant catching the light as she approached the other students and professors, offering her goodbyes. A symbol of purity, of righteousness, wrapped in the dark and dangerous world he inhabited.

And then, his phone rang.

Yoongi barely glanced at the screen before answering, his attention still tethered to Aalia’s retreating figure as she wove through the restaurant, bidding her goodbyes with that quiet grace that both irked and fascinated him. “Yeah?” His voice was a low drawl, detached yet laced with something distant, something lingering.

“Hyun.” Jimin’s voice crackled through the speaker, the unmistakable bass of Kitty Gang’s music thrumming in the background. “Are you coming tonight?”

Yoongi exhaled, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t planned on going tonight, but when Jimin needed him, he was there. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“It’s Game Night,” Jimin reminded him, his tone playful. “Oh, and bring that girl you told me about.”

Yoongi’s brows twitched. “I don’t know—”

“Come on,” Jimin’s voice carried that familiar, teasing pout. “I’ll see you soon.”

The call ended before Yoongi could say another word. He clicked his tongue, slipping his phone back into his pocket as his gaze followed Aalia’s exit. With a quiet sigh, he rose from his seat, slipping through the restaurant doors and into the cool night air.

Aalia walked ahead, her frame illuminated by the glow of passing streetlights. She was heading toward the subway station.

She turned a corner, and Yoongi followed. His pace was unhurried, his hands tucked into his pockets as the alleyway narrowed, empty save for the distant hum of city life. The parking lot stretched out on the other side.

She halted to a stop and turned around to face him. “Article 18 of the Anti-Stalking Act punishes stalking with up to three years in prison or a thirty million won fine.”

Yoongi blinked. Then, an amused smirk ghosted his lips. She’s unbelievable. “That so?” His voice was low, lazy, like he was indulging in something sweet on his tongue. “Damn. And here I was thinking I was just walking.”

She exhaled, ready to leave, but before she could, he reached out, catching her wrist. Not tight. Not forceful. Just enough to make her pause.

“Hey.” For the first time, she heard something different in his voice. Not teasing. Not commanding. Just—something softer. Something real.

Her gaze flickered to him, searching.

“Look,” he said, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against the inside of her wrist. “Jimin asked me to bring you to Kitty Gang tonight.”

Aalia stared at him for a moment before, unexpectedly—she laughed. It was the same laugh from that first night. The one that had caught him off guard. A contagious kind of laughter—the kind that made her almond-shaped eyes almost close, her nose scrunch slightly, and her cheekbones lift. It wasn’t the demure, careful giggle that most women gave him. It was unfiltered, real, ringing into the night air like music.

“You—ahhahah…” she tried to compose herself, wiping beneath her eyes. “You’re insane if you think I’m going anywhere with you.”

Yoongi chuckled, the sound deep and slow. “And why is that?”

“I am not going to the nine circles of hell,” she said, still laughing.

If only she knew that beneath the polished façade of neon-lit streets and glistening skyscrapers, there was a Korea few spoke of—a world stitched together by whispered deals and untraceable power. The country prided itself on order, discipline, and prestige, but beneath its surface, a labyrinth of corruption thrived in the shadows.

Money was the real justice here, the invisible hand that dictated who rose and who was buried. The rich played their games behind locked doors, their sins rinsed clean with influence, while the desperate clawed for survival in alleyways no cameras dared to watch.

Kitty Gang was merely an entry point, a playground of temptation laced with something far more insidious. It was a place where the city’s elite indulged in vice, where pleasure and danger bled together under dim, flickering lights. But beyond its velvet ropes and dimly lit corridors, there were darker places still—places where the rules no longer applied, where names were erased with a whisper, and where the devil didn’t bargain, only took what he was owed.

If only she knew that Yoongi was not just a professor or a businessman, but a man living between two lives—one dictated by society’s expectations and another by blood, by legacy, by something far older and far more binding than contracts or degrees. Within the world of crime, his name carried weight, spoken in equal parts reverence and fear. He was not the boss—not yet. His grandfather, the last of the old kings, still sat on that throne, ruling with an iron fist wrapped in silk. But Yoongi was more than just an heir; he had carved his own name into the underworld, praised for his unwavering determination, his unyielding courage, his ability to make decisions that others flinched away from. He was a leader among men, respected for his brilliance, feared for his resolve.

And yet, the stories that surrounded him were never just one-sided. Some spoke of his compassion, the rare moments where his actions were not driven by power but by something human—by a desire to protect, to provide, to ensure the safety of those who belonged to him. Others, however, painted him in an entirely different light. They called him cruel, an oppressor cloaked in wealth and influence, a tyrant who did not rule with words but with fear. A man who did not hesitate to crush anything—or anyone—that threatened what was his.

His smirk widened, but the amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. “There’s a darker side to the underbelly of Korea, Aalia,” he murmured, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Kitty Gang is just the tip of the iceberg.”

She stilled, her expression unreadable. And then, she did something he hadn’t expected. She stepped even closer. “I,” she said, her voice unwavering. “Am not going anywhere with you.”

She turned, ready to leave, but Yoongi shifted, blocking her path with the ease of someone who had spent years maneuvering shadows.

“You can either walk with me to my car,” he said smoothly, “or I can carry you there. But you’re coming with me, like it or not.”

She scoffed, laughing once more. But when he bent slightly—just enough to reach for her—her laughter cut short.

“Fine!!” she snapped. “I’ll walk.”

Yoongi smirked, stepping back with a small nod of approval. “Good girl.”

With a roll of her eyes, she followed him to his car.

Once inside, she exhaled, staring out of the window. “But I have to be home by eleven.” Yoongi glanced at his silver Rolex, the glow of the dashboard illuminating its face. 7:45 PM. “I’m serious,” she said, turning to him.

He tilted his head, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “Alright, alright. You’ll be home by eleven.”

Aalia finally leaned back in the passenger seat, her fingers brushing against the hem of her dress. “Thank you,” she murmured softly.

Yoongi’s fingers tightened briefly on the steering wheel before he glanced at her. His voice was just as soft. “You’re welcome.”

For a few minutes, they drove in silence, the hum of the city passing them by. And then— “Why did you need me to go with you?” she asked, her voice quieter now, less sharp.

Yoongi’s eyes stayed on the road, his expression unreadable. “Once a month, on the last Saturday, Kitty Gang holds a game night.”

Aalia arched a brow. “Game night?”

He nodded. “Every month, it’s a different game.”

She hesitated. “And the game this time?”

He didn’t miss the way her fingers curled slightly on her lap. “Spin the Bottle: Truth or Dare.”

Aalia tensed. Her heartbeat picked up, her throat tightening. “I don’t have to play, right?” she asked, her voice lighter than she felt.

For a moment, Yoongi said nothing. Then, he turned his gaze from the road, looking at her properly. Her expression was different now—guarded. Uneasy. “No,” he said, his voice genuine. “You don’t have to play.”

She nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing. Yoongi returned his attention to the road, but his mind lingered

(you can read ESCAPISM on AO3)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64009903/chapters/164201557

[agustd3]

D-DAY THE FINAL ✦ INTRO : Never Mind

[jkvjimin]

A to the G to the U to the S-T-D 🔥 D-DAY in Japan | cr. @jung-koook

[jung-koook]

240612 - bts on twitter: I'm back!

[minsyoongi]

SUGA on SUCHWITA ep 19 ♡

[yooboobies]

what a time this was to be alive...

[yoongikook]

unlimited gifs of min yoongi ➔ 41/?

[dasisugarun]

thanks for this jade, this is kinda legendary

[pampamtiger]

YOONGIBOONGI WHY ARE YOU SO ADORABLE????

[lynahcz]

Bangtan core ✨

[hueseok]

can’t stop thinking about boyfriend!yoongi who in a way, found his match with you.

for decades, his oldest friends always teased him for being the textbook definition of ‘nonchalant’, labeling him as a stoic man who loved to pretend that he didn’t care about anything—even though in reality, there were always a few tells that made it obvious that he did.

he was the type of guy who made it seem like he didn’t care if you forgot about his birthday, but would send a joke afterwards saying that he was disappointed that you didn’t remember.

or the type who acted like it didn’t matter to him if the meal he worked hard on cooking tasted delicious for your taste buds, only to grin really wide as soon as you complimented him and uttered a string of praises afterwards.

it was an endearing quality of yoongi’s, a rather fascinating trait that also became the butt of the joke at times whenever the topic was his love life and his bad luck when it came to relationships.

“you can come off as emotionally unavailable,” hoseok told him over beer once. “ladies don’t like that. they want men who can tell them how special they are.”

“isn’t it enough that i show it?” yoongi asked, having just been dumped by the girl he was dating. “i mean, i drive her to work every single day. i fetch her from work whenever i can too. i buy her stuff if it’s necessary, like shampoo or paper towels.”

hoseok stared at him. “paper towels?”

“yeah.”

“wow. i take it all back. you are the most romantic man on the planet.”

yoongi rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. “she mentioned she was running out of them so i bought more for her.”

“are you her dad or something?”

“i heard ladies like a provider.”

“yes, but not in that sense. it’s more like… you get the bill whenever you’re having lunch or dinner at a restaurant, or buying her a bag she’s been eyeing, or paying for her nails when she gets them done. doing all of that without not being asked is the key aspect of it, really.”

“how do you know this stuff?”

hoseok shrugged. “i have an older sister,” he says. “also, i’m engaged to my girlfriend of 6 years. being in a relationship that long ought to teach you a lot.”

thanks to that conversation, yoongi began understanding what it really meant to be a great and affectionate boyfriend without sacrificing his rather reserved personality. he knew what the right gestures to do, what the right things to say, what the right gifts to buy—and he did all of that with utmost sincerity, genuinely wanting to be a better partner for his current girlfriend, which also happened to be you.

the funny thing, though?

you couldn’t seem to recognize the nice boyfriend things yoongi was doing and how much he improved compared to his last relationship.

you were just… independent, he thought. a strong woman who didn’t like to be coddled and didn’t like asking help from anyone regardless of how much you may be already struggling. he had a realization that you were naturally like this because of the stories you used to tell him that made him understand that you just weren’t used to relying on others, a trait that he didn’t have an issue with and sometimes even admired.

however, he couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t sometimes frustrating as well.

for example, just last week, the both of you had a semi-big fight because of how you constantly insisted on changing the broken lightbulb in your bedroom yourself even though yoongi was already telling you that he could do it instead. in the end, since you were stubborn as hell, you still tried changing it on your own but had a very minor injury due to falling off the stool you were standing on for extra height.

yoongi was furious when he found out, and you ultimately became furious because it seemed like he was being unfair to you, the negative energy impacting your mood and rationality that you didn’t get how he was more mad on the fact that you let your pride get to you than just asking for his damn help for the freaking lightbulb.

when the both of you calmed down and said your apologies, yoongi took your hands and looked directly in your eyes. “babe, you have to start depending on me,” he said.

the straightforwardness caught you off guard. “huh?”

“i mean…” you felt him squeeze your fingers softly, “i understand that you’re used to doing things all on your own… how you don’t like being treated like some baby… but that shouldn’t be the case with me, okay? i’m here to take care of you, to always help you with whatever you need.”

you opened your mouth, about to say something he knew was not going to align with his point, so he took the liberty to cut you off.

“i’m serious. you know what i’m talking about. let me take care of you, ____.”

“but—” you couldn’t continue with your sentence, a wave of emotions suddenly flooding you that made your throat tighten and voice quiver as you began speaking again— “how? i… i don’t—i just… you don’t need to. i don’t want to be a burden.”

yoongi gave you a look, a mixture of fondness and disbelief. “you? a burden?”

“yeah. you don’t need to take care of me.”

“i’m well aware that you’re a grown woman who doesn’t need taking care of.” he joked. “but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to do it. that’s why if i were you, i would just start depending on my poor boyfriend and learn how to be comfortable in being taken care of because it’s definitely how things are going to be now that he’s here.”

you snorted at the use of third person. “fine,” you sniffled, “okay, i’ll try to be better at asking for help next time.”

he sighed in relief, releasing your hands to instead engulf you in a tight embrace. “thank you, baby. i appreciate it a lot.”

****

the first time you willingly asked yoongi for a favor after that talk—regardless of how small and trivial it was—it still affected him big time.

“can you help me assemble the drawer i bought?” you asked him over dinner, ever so casual and nonchalant.

he almost dropped the chopsticks he was holding. “what?”

“i said, can you—”

“no, i heard that perfectly well. i’m just surprised at what i’m hearing.”

your lips twitched while your face visibly burned. “don’t start teasing me or else—”

“i’m not.” he laughed, a little too loudly than usual, before reaching for your hand and kissing your knuckles. “i’m not, i swear. i’m just happy.”

“you’re happy because i’m asking for help?”

“i’m happy because you’re letting me take care of you,” he corrected. “it’s a bit overdue in my opinion but who am i to complain?”

you playfully shoved his hand away, which made yoongi laugh harder and lean towards you to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, letting you know that your simple effort of trying to let him in meant so much more than words could ever say.

note. this blurb is unedited and has been in my drafts since december because it's always yoongi missing hours!!!!! but for real though, i wish yoongi is doing great and is always surrounded by good people who can give him the support he needs + remind him how loved he is :(