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melancholy-of-nadia · 4 months ago

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infatuation (m) | myg

title: infatuation pairing: yoongi x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; agust d universe (AgustDverse based in Haegeum) ; gang leader / mafia AU summary: Living with fragmented and blurry memories has lead you to live under the roof of Bangkok's biggest secret crime boss, Agust D, as his bodyguard. Though, being confined to the mansion most of the time has made you feel isolated, craving freedom and answers. When he decides to take you out to dinner for the first time, the atmosphere is charged with tension and suspicion. You're not the only one who's patience is wearing thin, however, instead, it's discovering this man's infatuation with you that will lead you to change your mind. warnings: weapon mention (katana), reader has minor amnesia, back and forth arguing, murder mention, deep fish imagery/analogy, haegeum!suga mention, dominant haegeum! agust d, making out, penthouse s*x, f*ngering, cl*t stimulation, orgasm denial, choking, power imbalance, bl*w job, bre*st play, spiting, deep throating, pet names, agust d praises you by calling you "good girl", unprotected s*x, lowkey breeding k*nk, choking, possessiveness, multiple orgasms, uh i think that's it!... yandere? haegeum!agust d maybe note: it's been a year since i uploaded my first fic in this universe i call the AgustDverse. Also the first fic that got me into writing bts fics! I've been requested to continue this universe by my dear friend @daegudrama. I don't know if it'll ever become an actual cohesive series, but if you guys like it, let me know! also this is veerrrryyyyy much unedited im sorry i will edit later word count: 6.0k drop date: August 6th, 2024 7:30pm PST mood playlist | ao3 link – –

You never thought you'd find yourself in this situation—nestled within the mansion walls of a mafia boss masquerading as a police detective.

Known as Agust D.

How did you get here? It's a question that continuously echoes through your mind like a constant drumbeat.

It’s not an easy question to answer. It’s actually pretty complicated. Time travel? A quantum jump? You don’t know whatever scientific phenomenon this is.

But for your own sanity, you decided not to dwell too much on it, especially when the present demands your full attention.

Agust has let you live here under the guise of acting as his bodyguard, which is perhaps the strangest thing you've ever done. You had no prior guarding experience, but the katana sword that hangs by your side now tells otherwise. This item is a constant reminder of your supposed purpose here: to protect the mansion, to protect Agust D. But deep down, you know there's more to this arrangement than meets the eye.

Tonight, however, is different. Agust D, the enigmatic master of this mansion, has extended an invitation—an invitation to dine at an upscale Chinese restaurant. It's a rare opportunity to step beyond the confines of these walls, to breathe in the outside world, if only for a fleeting moment.

As you stand before the full-length mirror in your room, you can't help but feel a surge of apprehension. The maids have stated that Agust D insisted you wear a black satin dress he selected for the occasion—a garment that feels foreign against your skin, yet somehow fitting for the night. You’re too used to wearing a collared white button-up and a plaid skirt for most of the time while you’re at the mansion. You don’t know how long you’d been wearing that, but definitely longer than a young girl who’s in prep school.

Adjusting the delicate fabric, you take in your reflection, the unfamiliarity of the attire almost unnerving.

A knock at the door interrupts your contemplation, and without waiting for a response, Agust D enters, his presence commanding the room. Dressed in a tailored black suit that exudes power and authority, he regards you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"You look stunning," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you ready to go?"

With a half nod, you follow him down the stairs and out of the mansion, the cool night air wrapping around you like a shroud of secrecy. Then you hop into the black sports car, which Yoongi decides to drive this time instead of his chauffeur.

The journey to the restaurant is silent, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of the piano music playing, which came from connecting Agust D’s phone to the car’s aux.

He really does love Ryuichi Sakamoto’s music, you comment internally to yourself.

When you arrive at the restaurant, you're met with the grandeur of an upscale Chinese eatery perched on the top floor of a hotel building. The space is a harmonious blend of modern elegance and traditional opulence. As you step inside, the ambient chatter of elite people and the soft clinking of cutlery fill the air, creating a lively yet refined atmosphere that contrasts sharply with the muted silence of the mansion.

The restaurant’s interior is a feast for the senses. Rich, dark wood paneling lines the walls, accented by gold and red details that evoke a sense of luxury. Elegant lanterns hang from the ceiling, their warm, golden light casting a gentle glow across the room. The tables are adorned with crisp white linens, polished silverware, and delicate porcelain dishes, each piece carefully chosen to complement the sophisticated ambiance.

The scent of Chinese cuisine mingles with the faint aroma of incense, creating an inviting and tantalizing atmosphere. The restaurant's design features intricate latticework and traditional Chinese artwork, adding a touch of cultural authenticity to the modern setting. Plush, comfortable chairs surround each table, offering a sense of intimacy and relaxation.

As the restaurant host takes note of Agust D standing beside you, there’s a brief moment of panic in his eyes. He quickly ushers you both to a secluded corner of the establishment, a private nook separated from the rest of the dining area by elegant silk drapes. This area, though separated, still enjoys a view of the city skyline through large, floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a breathtaking panorama of the illuminated city below.

You are seated across from Agust, but there’s still a subtle awkward atmosphere surrounding the both of you when he orders and after the food arrives.

For a moment, the clinking of silverware against porcelain fills the silence before Agust D finally speaks.

"Do you still not remember anything?"

You hesitate, uncertainty flickering in the depths of your eyes about how to respond to him. "Bits and pieces," you admit, your gaze lingering on the dimly lit surroundings. "But nothing concrete. It's like trying to grasp at shadows."

His expression remains impassive, but you catch a fleeting glimpse of something else—something akin to regret, perhaps, or even longing. "It will come back to you," he says, his tone softer than before. "With time."

You only nod, going back to eating one of the xiaolongbao at the center of the table.

The air between you and Agust D grows heavier once again with unspoken words. You don’t like the silence. As someone who is very self-aware of their self, you feel compelled to break the silence to not be stuck in your head.

"Agust D," you begin tentatively, the name feeling foreign on your tongue yet strangely familiar. You don’t refer to him by name often, as you opt for ‘sir’ or the occasional ‘Hyungnim’. "Why did you bring me here tonight? You never do this sort of thing…"

He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Well, you've been cooped up in that mansion for so long," he replies cryptically, his gaze piercing through the facade you've carefully constructed. “Thought it would be good to treat you for your work.”

"But why now?" you press, unable to suppress the curiosity gnawing at your insides. "And wearing this?" You refer to the short piece of black fabric covering you.

Agust D's lips quirk up in a wry smile, though there's no warmth in it. "Maybe I wanted to see how you'd be like out… not on duty," he muses, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or perhaps I simply wanted company for the evening."

Company, huh? From the outside, it looks like you’re on a date. You wouldn’t doubt the restaurant staff is already gossiping from behind the curtains partitioning you from the rest of the world.

You can't help but feel a sense of unease at his words, a nagging suspicion that there's more to his motives than meets the eye. "Is that really all?" you press, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or is there something else you're not telling me?"

For a moment, Agust D's mask slips, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the facade of indifference. "There's always more to say," he murmurs, his gaze turning distant as if lost in memories you can't access. "But some things are better left unsaid."

What does he even mean by that? You feel like every time you speak even a bit casually to this man, you only end up more confused and maybe even a bit more scared.

"Agust D," you venture cautiously, "...are you still looking for Suga?"

At the mention of the name, a shadow passes over Agust D's features, his expression hardening into a mask of resolve. "Suga," he repeats, the name dripping with bitterness and contempt. "Of course I’m looking for him. That man is nothing but trouble. I need to get rid of him."

You can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man whose name hangs between you like a specter, a reminder of the past you can't quite grasp. "But why? Why do you hate him so much?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Agust D's eyes darken with a mix of anger and regret, a storm raging beneath the surface. "He’s got my face and that in itself is a danger to all of us," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "He could also be the answer to everything I've lost, but it’s better if that answer is never revealed."

The words hang heavy in the air from a confession laden with pain. And as you gaze into the depths of Agust D's eyes, you realize that beneath the cold exterior lies a man haunted by his past—a man who, like you, is searching for answers, but afraid to confront them. You want to pry into what he means, but you’re scared that he may act aggressively. So instead you change the topic.

"Don’t you know his whereabouts though?" you inquire softly, your voice laced with concern.

Agust D's gaze meets yours. "I do," he confirms, his voice low and measured. "He’s in Chinatown. Living in an apartment at the end of Weng Nakorn Kasem. But I can’t act on impulse. I’m too heavily involved in the Asia Pacific Police Union, and that already involves too many variables, too many unknowns."

A sense of foreboding settles over you as you listen to his words, the weight of his burdens pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "What do you mean?" you press, your voice barely a whisper.

Agust D sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I can't move against him yet," he admits, his tone laced with resignation. "Not until I know how many people are on my side. There are spies within the organization. If I act too quickly, I could end up getting myself killed…"

The gravity of his words hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the fragile truce that exists between you. And yet, despite the dangers that lurk in the darkness, you can't help but feel a flicker of hope. If you help him in capturing Suga, then maybe you’ll be able to piece your own puzzle together.

But would that even be a good idea?

"Agust D," you say softly, smiling gently at him, "you know you don't have to face this alone. Whatever happens, I'll stand by your side. Not like I have much of a choice anyway." Your words trail off at the end. He doesn’t comment on it though.

For a moment, there's a vulnerability in Agust D's gaze, a fleeting glimpse of the man beneath the mask. He reaches out to take your hand, his expression softening ever so slightly at your words. "Thanks," he murmurs, his voice a whisper in the dimly lit restaurant.

“It’s my job after all.”

––––––

After finishing dinner, the two of you begin to walk out of the restaurant, entering a long hallway that leads to large red sliding doors that exit. Your eyes drift toward the grand wall aquarium positioned near the exit, its towering glass panels reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lights.

The aquarium is a masterpiece of design, housing a diverse array of aquatic life within its transparent confines. Colorful coral reefs sway gently in the water, their vibrant hues casting mesmerizing patterns of light and shadow across the sandy substrate below.

But amidst the bustling underwater ecosystem, your gaze fixates on a lone goldfish, its sleek form gliding gracefully through the water. Its vibrant orange scales shimmer in the ambient light, a stark contrast to the subdued colors of its surroundings.

A pang of concern tugs at your heart as you watch the solitary fish navigate its artificial habitat. Don't goldfish typically reside in tranquil ponds, surrounded by the soothing sounds of nature? Is it even safe for them to be confined within the confines of this glass enclosure?

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Agust D's departure until you feel a gentle tug on your arm. Startled, you turn to find him regarding you with a curious expression, his gaze flickering between you and the aquarium.

"What's on your mind?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tear your gaze away from the mesmerizing display before you, your thoughts still lingering on the lone koi fish. "I was just...thinking about that fish," you admit, gesturing toward the aquarium.

“The goldfish?”

“Mhm,” As you stand there, watching the solitary koi fish swim about, a wistful sigh escapes your lips. "I wish I were a fish sometimes," you murmur.

As funny as your sentence sounds, you thought the older man would laugh at you for making a comment like that. However, Agust D's gaze flickers at you, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"Why's that?" he asks, his voice soft with intrigue.

You pause, contemplating your answer as you watch the graceful movements of the fish. "Uh, well they seem so free," you explain, your voice tinged with longing. “They get to go wherever they want. move through life with such ease in the water, not burdened by the weight of the world.”

As you continue to watch the fish, a sense of yearning wells up within you—a desire to shed the constraints of your human existence. "Sometimes," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, "I wish I could trade places with that fish just so I could be able to live freely, to live without my own burdens."

Agust D nods in understanding, a silent reassurance amid your musings. "But you know, even fish have their own struggles. I mean, look at it, it’s trapped in this Chinese restaurant’s aquarium as entertainment for guests, fighting to survive in a place it doesn’t belong,”

Sigh.

He’s right. But you hate the fact that he’s right.

“That still doesn’t change what I said. Plus, I don't want to be that fish.” you interject, your voice laced with a hint of sadness. "Slowly destroyed by its surroundings… not belonging there."

Agust D's brow furrows in contemplation, his gaze returning to the small goldfish. "So what are you trying to say?"

"I don't want to feel like that," you admit. "Trapped in a world that doesn't feel like home, constantly struggling to find where I belong!"

And you hate it because that is exactly how you’ve been feeling right now. You’re living with a man several years older than you, who is probably the most dangerous man in Thailand, maybe even all of Asia. And you have no idea why you stuck here with him, but where could you really go? Where are you actually from? Where is home?

Agust D's expression hardens slightly, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Life isn't always about feeling at home," he counters. "Sometimes it's about surviving where you are and making the best of it."

No! He doesn’t get it.

You feel a flicker of irritation at his words, your emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. "That's easy for you to say," you retort, tone sharp. "You're not the one who's been confined to that mansion, to these guarding duties, waiting for memories to come back."

His eyes narrow slightly, a spark of challenge igniting in them. "You think I don't have my own battles?" he snaps back. "I'm out there every day, dealing with threats you can't even imagine."

"At least you have control over these things. You have the entirety of this city wrapped around your finger," you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. "At least you know who you are and what you're fighting for!”

The tension between you two shifts. Agust D steps closer, his presence looming, but you refuse to back down, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve.

Inside, you're a storm of emotions—anger, confusion, and a touch of desperation. How can he be so dense and unreadable, yet so annoyingly calm? It's like talking to a brick wall sometimes. Every word you say seems to bounce off him while his expression remaining infuriatingly stoic. You want to scream, to make him understand just how much this is tearing you apart, but he stands there, unmoved, as if your turmoil is nothing more than a slight breeze in his world.

“Agust, you–”

"Fuck…you're so hot when you're upset, doll," he murmurs, interrupting you with a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can react, he grabs your arm, pulling you toward the exit.

Huh?

"Hey!" you protest, your frustration mingling with a surge of adrenaline. But Agust D doesn't relent, his grip firm as he guides you out of the restaurant and into the elevator.

As the elevator doors slide shut, sealing you both inside the confined space, the tension between you reaches a boiling point. "What are you doing?" you demand, your voice a mix of anger and confusion.

Instead of answering, Agust D pushes you against the wall, his lips crashing down on yours with a fierce intensity. Your initial resistance melts away as the kiss deepens, the heat between you igniting into a blazing inferno powered by unknown frustrations beneath the surface.

You pull back just enough to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you glare at him. "You can't just—" you start, but he silences you with another kiss, his hands roaming possessively over your body.

"I can and I will," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. "Because right now, all I can think about is you."

Your frustration mingles with a heady mix of desire, the lines between anger and passion blurring as you give in to the moment. As the elevator ascends, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you.

When the elevator dings softly, signaling its arrival on your floor, you find yourselves in a private hallway in the hotel building, the opulent surroundings a stark contrast to the intensity of your kiss. Agust D pulls back, his eyes dark with desire and determination.

"We're not done talking," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a thrill through you. "But right now, I need you."

Your eyes are left wide open, feeling hormones coursing through you.

This can’t be happening. Is this all a dream? Yes, this has to be. And what’s with the scenario? Are you that sexually frustrated? You admit you’ve never done this sort of thing and have only spent your free time reading erotica for entertainment.

But to dream about fucking the very man keeping you captive within his mansion and living as a bodyguard. There has got to be something wrong with you. Maybe you’re experiencing Stockholm syndrome? But you’ve not once felt emotionally attached to this man.

Though there have been times you’ve looked at him and thought about how beautiful he looked.

Shit.

Maybe you’ll go along with this. Everything else be damned, for now.

“Show me then,” You word out, which only fires him up more.

Agust D’s grip on your arm is firm but not painful as he leads you down the luxurious hallway to a penthouse suite, the plush carpet muffling your footsteps. Your thoughts are a chaotic jumble, torn between the logical part of your brain screaming at you to stop and the primal part urging you to give in.

As soon as the door to a suite clicks shut behind you, he’s on you again, pushed against a wall, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. You respond in kind, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Every touch, every kiss feels electric, igniting a fire within you that you didn’t know existed.

In the back of your mind, you know this is wrong. You know you should be resisting, should be fighting against the pull he has on you. But right now, in this moment, all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your skin, the way his lips move against yours, the way his presence consumes you.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his breath hot against your lips. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, showcasing his possessive nature. “I refuse to let you go.”

His hands start to inch up under your dress until he reaches your core and starts flicking at your clit. You gasp, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. He watches your reaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers, his voice low and teasing. “To feel me, to know that you’re mine?”

You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response. All you can do is nod, your body arching toward his touch, craving more.

“Good,” he says, his fingers moving with a deft precision that has you teetering on the edge. “Because I’m not stopping until you know that you belong to me.”

He continues his ministrations, his touch driving you wild with need. The logical part of your brain has long since surrendered, leaving only the raw, primal desire that burns within you.

His fingers slide below your black lace underwear until he inserts them inside you with a sly grin. You can't help but moan at the invasion, your body trembling with anticipation. He moves them in and out, hitting just the right spot, causing you to writhe beneath him.

"This is what you get," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "For. every. time. you. talked. back. to. me. today." He growls, punctuating every word with a thrust inside your pussy.

“F-Fuck A-Agust!” And holy shit does it feel so good.

As lust starts to fog your mind and the air fills with moans, you don't know what's happening to you. But you don't care. The fire inside you is burning brighter by the second, and you can't get enough of the man who's taken control of your body and mind at this moment

Yoongi places his thumb on your nub and plays with it, squishing it in circular motions, then using his finger to rub it a little faster then slowing down only to fasten the pace again. You felt a very familiar feeling boiling up in your lower belly threatening to unleash itself.

“I’m not gonna let you reach your high yet.”

Suddenly, he removes all his fingers from you and you whimper immediately, the absence of his touch leaving you desperate for more.

Yoongi bites down against his lips, eyes quickly traveling from your face and down your body, “Huh…W-Wait..P-Please…” You pant heavily, trying to rub your thighs together to pick back up the pace that was headed toward your release

“I thought you wanted to leave me, doll?” He leans in closer, chuckling in your face, and you shake your head. At this moment, you realize that he’s hard under his dress pants. “Are you sure? I don’t give orgasms to people that won’t obey me.”

“I-I’ll prove it to you!” You drop to your knees quickly, placing your hands on both of his sides. “Oh? And how will you do that?” He gives you a curious look, already knowing what to expect from your sudden submissive behavior. While he spoke, you unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pulling it down along with his boxers to reveal his cock.

“Oh fuck…” You let out in the smallest whisper. He wasn’t long per se, but more than average. But the girth… holy shit. Will it even fit in any of your holes? And the way his precum is already pearling on his tip just from what you two did earlier? You swallow nervously, but you’re not one to back away from a challenge. “Like this.”

You hold his cock gently from the base, proceeding to gather spit from your mouth and letting it drop on it. You proceed to move your hand, spreading his precum and your saliva on his dick, managing to get a good slide and starting to move your hand quicker. You looked up innocently, already noticing a flicker of Agust’s facade fade as he felt himself slipping away in pleasure. In his mind, he was tempted to say fuck it all and let himself fuck against your hand, but he knew better than just to let himself become an animal. After the prep, you part your mouth and slowly take him in, the stretch already starting to hurt your jaw from his wide size. In the meantime, you just suck around his head and use your hand to deliver pleasure to the rest of his shaft, earning deep-sounding curses and moans while your tongue swirled around him.

His eyes are glued to you, watching you work his cock with your kitten-like licks. Though, this isn’t enough for him. He wants to thrust up down your throat so bad and fuck you until your voice was sore. He wants to see how much you’re willing to take in that small mouth of yours.

And that’s exactly what he does. He places his hand on your head, giving you small pats and rubs disguised as encouragement for your efforts. Then his hand starts inching towards the back of your head until he suddenly grabs a handful of your hair and forcibly pushes his dick further until your smacked against his pelvis.

“Seems like you still need practice. Don’t worry, I’ll train you,” he murmurs, his grip tightening on your hair as he begins to thrust into your mouth. The tip hits the back of your throat and you gag reflexively, but he doesn't let up, pushing deeper with each thrust. Your eyes start to water, now holding onto his sides for dear life, but you force yourself to take it, willing your throat to open up and accommodate his girth. His palm comes up to your cheek to rub your cheek, feeling himself on the other side enter in and out of you.

He grunts with each deep thrust, his hips pistoning in and out of your mouth as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm. You feel like you're choking, but you don't want to disappoint him and prevent you from reaching your orgasm after. However, it doesn’t take long for him to come undone, swallowing saliva and cum down your throat. He removes himself and you begin to cough erratically. You have never deep-throated before, so it’s a miracle you didn’t throw up or die from this. It’s definitely not as easy as porn makes it seem. You’ve been lied to by the media! “Haah… Holy shit…” You groan, trying to catch your breath and stabilize your heart rate.

“You alright?” He questions, voice tinged with slight worry as he fixes his pants and underwear back up and leans down towards your face. “I lost myself for a bit…”

“It’s okay–” You pause, shocked for a moment to hear your voice sound hoarse. Despite that, Agust chuckles, using his palm once again to rub against your cheek to comfort you, smiling softly. “Good girl. Now you’ll get your reward.” With this, he guides you to the master bedroom, his grip on your arms firm yet careful, leading you through the opulent suite. The room is a testament to luxury, with rich, dark wood furniture that you knew Agust requested in the hotels he invests in and soft, ambient lighting that casts a warm glow over everything. The large windows offer a stunning view of the Bangkok city skyline, but your focus is solely on him.

He pushes you gently onto the king-sized bed, the plush mattress sinking beneath your weight. The silk sheets feel cool against your skin, starkly contrasting the heat building between you. Agust D stands over you, his eyes dark with desire, a predator savoring his prey.

He slowly removes his jacket, his movements deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch, your breath hitching as he unbuttons his suit vest, followed by his shirt, revealing his semi-muscular and beefy figure beneath. You’ve never seen him like this before, as he’s a very reserved man when it comes to his body. But each inch of exposed skin sends a fresh wave of anticipation through you.

“You’ve been so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Now, let me take care of you.”

He climbs onto the bed, sitting between your legs where his hands start trailing up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher. His touch is electrifying, each caress igniting a fire in your core. He leans down, his lips ghosting over your skin, leaving a trail of burning kisses from your collarbone to your ear.

His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need.

“Good,” he says, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Because once I start, I won’t be able to get enough of you.”

His hands are everywhere, exploring, teasing, and driving you to the brink of madness. He slips the dress off your shoulders, letting it fall away completely, leaving your body exposed and vulnerable beneath him. His eyes rake over your body, a dark hunger in his gaze.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “My doll.”

He lowers himself, his mouth finding your breast, sucking and nibbling until you’re arching into him, your fingers tangled in his slick black hair. He trails kisses down your stomach, his hands gripping your hips as he positions himself between your legs.

You gasp as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. “Ready for your reward?” he asks, his voice a seductive whisper.

“Mm..” You only make a sound and nod due to the lust clouding your mind. How do you say words? Do words matter?

He pinches your clit slightly which makes you jump and arc your body a little.

“Words, doll.”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to finally speak out, your body wiggling around close to his face eager for him to move.

He doesn’t hesitate after your verbal consent, his tongue flicking out to taste you from your clit down to your entrance, drawing a cry of pleasure from your lips. He works you expertly, starting with his tongue sucking against your clit, then eating you out in your entrance.

And holy fuck does he have you wrapped around his finger with these ministrations. You had heard rumors of him being good at oral sex from the women at the events you would accompany him to, but fuck, the actual thing doesn’t compare to their mere descriptions.

His tongue soon returns to nibble and suck at your aching bud, with his fingers replacing his place inside you. And before you know it, you’re lost in the sensation again, body jerking as every nerve ending is set aflame as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

And Agust D knows it, smirking against your pussy as he feels you tighten against his fingers. “Come for me,” he growls against your skin, his voice a command that you can’t resist.

With a final, shuddering gasp, you fall apart, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. He holds you through it, his hands and mouth coaxing every last bit of ecstasy from your body until you’re left trembling and spent beneath him.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watches you recover. “Such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with pride. “But we’re not done.”

He stands up and swiftly pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his cock, red and eager. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, your mind racing.

Oh? Is he going to put it in?!

“Huh? W-Wait you–”

Before you can finish speaking, he puts your legs on his shoulder and aligns himself to your entrance, his eyes locking with yours. The heat and intensity of his gaze make your heart race.

“You’re on birth control, correct?”

“Yes…”

You’d be surprised that he knows this fact, but he does look over your medical records after all. You’d also question the ethics of this, but not now.

“Then we can go all out,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “And I’ll show you that you’re truly mine.”

He pushes into you, his cock stretching and filling you completely.

“F-Fuck!” You gasp, the sensation is overwhelming, fueled with pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless. He pauses movements for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

Your eyes close as you try to focus on relaxing your body.

“Look at me,” he commands suddenly, his voice low and firm as he holds your chin. “I want to see your face when I take you.”

“Y-Yes, sir!” You meet his gaze, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. There’s a primal hunger in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine.

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to keep up with the intensity of his pace. The feeling of him inside you is overwhelming and does not compare to his or your own fingers pleasuring you.

“Do you feel that?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper. “Do you feel how your pussy is being molded by my cock?”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling. “I feel it!”

“Good,” he says, his thrusts becoming faster, more intense. “Because you won’t ever be able to be pleased by another cock as long as I live,”

His movements are relentless, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the slap of skin against skin, and the ragged gasps and moans that escape your lips.

As your eyes meet his, he suddenly wraps his hand around your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. His grip is firm but not painful, sending a rush of adrenaline and arousal coursing through your veins.

“Doll, you like being choked while I fuck you? Having you wrapped around my fingers now.”

“F-Feels so mmh good!” You mumble, your breath hitching as his grip tightens slightly, the sensation heightening the pleasure coursing through your body.

You never thought you’d be so turned on by choking. You don’t know if it’s you getting high off the lack of oxygen and feeling pleasure, or giving up your life’s control to this man before you that has your toes curling.

The pleasure builds up to an unbearable peak once more, but this time, you know that he is feeling the same thing too. His thrusts become harder, more forceful, each one sending shockwaves through your body. His hand on your neck adds an edge to the sensation od dominance and possessiveness that leaves you breathless.

“Come for me, doll,” he growls, his voice a command that you can’t ignore. “I want to feel you come around me as I do at the same time.”

With a final, shuddering cry, your orgasm crashes down, your body convulsing in pleasure. He follows you soon after, his grip on your hips tightening as he spills into you, his own release mingling with yours. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless, clinging to each other as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and satisfied as he looks down at you with a smile that exposes his gums. He lays down next to you and pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a tender, possessive kiss.

��You’re mine,” he whispers against your lips, the words a promise and a declaration.

“You’re mine,” he repeats. “I’ll never let you leave.”

At that moment, as you lie there in his arms, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you don’t want him to. The world outside may be complicated and uncertain, but here, with him, everything feels right.

This is your home.

All you want is for this man to be infatuated with you for the rest of your life.

This is how things should be. Right?

–

– tbc?

✨ let me know ur thoughts! how are you feeling?! ✉️

#AGUSTDVERSE #Prequel #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts reactions #bts reader insert #haegeum #agust d #THE WORLD IS BACK!

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btsugarush · 2 years ago

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GANGSTA | myg [m.list]

❝i’m a fucking criminal, princess.❞

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni

authors note: hello??? why does suga never give me a break? he snapped on haegeum. giving me toxic gang member vibes. this is gonna be a dark, heavily graphic fic. i warn you, if you don’t like anything mentioned in the warnings then this isn’t for you. this story is purely fictional and for your enjoyment, i do not condone gang violence, affiliation or any of the fucked up shit yoongi will do in this story. comment below if you want to be added to the taglist.

©btsugarush. please do not repost.

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yoonmetogether · 12 days ago

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Part 1 - Play Nice

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader - brother/mob boss!Jin, brother/mob boss!Jungkook genre: mafia, e2l, sloooooow burn, age gap summary: As you and your brothers finalize the plans for the next chapter in the family business, you end up discovering things that you didn't expect. And upon meeting the man assigned to guard your life, you think the universe must really have it out for you. And you don't like it. Not one bit. warnings: angst, arranged marriage, drug addiction/rehab, family drama, parental loss, age gap, alcohol, smoking, mentions of speed racing, crime, drugs and weapons trading, night terrors, ptsd, guns, reader has a knife (and an attitude), character death minors pls dni wc: 19k buckle up, folks!!!

teaser l prologue l part i. play nice I interlude: strangers l part ii. I

You make a mocking face at your phone, specifically the social media app that shoves pictures in your face of your university friends opening up their architecture firm that you were meant to be a part of. Good for them, you think sourly to yourself. You would be happier if you were there with them, before your dreams and plans to settle down in one place were foiled.

It’s been almost a year since they were, right before you finished up your second to last semester of grad school when your brother called to tell you that your father had died.

Your father, who never looked you in the eye. Your father, who you spent too much of your childhood vying for his attention, especially as a teenager, around the time he started to pay more attention to Jungkook. Like when you purposely flunked classes, hoping he’d care enough to yell at you to do better, only for Jin to show up to teacher meetings in sunglasses and a mask but the disappointment wasn’t hidden underneath. Or when you went around shoplifting with your friends and got caught by mall security, wishing he’d be the one to show up and get you out of trouble. But yet again, Jin came in another disguise, and the disappointment was the same. He knew what you were doing, but didn’t have the heart to tell you it wasn’t worth it, because your father would never care. He barely acknowledged your existence.

So, at the news of his passing, you felt nothing. That was until you realized that it meant everything would fall on your brothers’ shoulders. And suddenly, you became a part of the very thing Jin worked so hard to keep you away from. Your duty and prospects became that of carrying out your father’s legacy. Before you knew it, you were set to be engaged to the son of a casino owner, so that you would take over the casino in the city your brothers ran, streets filled with crime and money fueled by Crow blood.

Kim blood. Dirty blood. Your blood.

Over the summer, you finished up your last semester, rushed through six classes in order to complete all of your credits. You honestly don’t know how you pulled it off. Three weeks before you were scheduled to graduate, Jin called, bearing the bad news that Jungkook had relapsed and was back in rehab, so you needed to come home right away. You didn’t get to walk the stage. And you certainly couldn’t give the school an address to send your diploma to. So everything was lost in the wind.

Jungkook was still in rehab by the time you got a ring shoved on your finger. None of your friends know about the engagement. Granted, none of them can even be invited to the wedding. You can’t even tell them where you’re living now.

You probably will never speak to them again.

Locking your phone and dropping it in your lap, you sigh dramatically as you look out the window at the cloudy weather, the rain that pours on the windshield, the thunder that rumbles from above. It’s been cloudy a lot lately. Or maybe the gloom that’s been sitting in your chest ever since you got married has made everything around you seem dull and gray. Even your house is decorated without color, thanks to your minimalist husband who has no taste for style. He thinks as long as things are expensive, they’re worth having even if it’s all fucking ugly. Your husband didn’t care for your opinion when he picked out the house and furniture, despite the fact that you just graduated with a minor in architecture.

You’re just glad he picked a spot in the woods, right outside of the city.

You’ve always had a talent for decorating, handing it off to the fact that you’ve moved so many times throughout your life, having to buy new furniture since you couldn’t drag it everywhere you went. You became the queen of thrifting. As long as you had your keyboard, favorite posters and plushies, you were good. You took care to make your place your home, a reflection of you and your interests in order to keep you grounded, help you feel like you belonged somewhere, even though you never stayed in one place for too long. Jin preferred it that way, felt it was safer. But it meant you couldn’t have normal friendships or relationships because they wouldn’t keep in touch if you dropped out halfway through the year to transfer to a university in an entirely different place, sometimes a country. It was very destabilizing, and it made things equally lonely, and your brother tried to make up for it by wiring you substantial amounts of money for you to use freely, but responsibly.

You never touched that money. Because how could you as a college student, who worked part-time, low wage jobs, explain the luxuries that your brother’s money could afford? The money that could pay for a few hundred thousand parking lots of the most expensive and rare cars, at least five cities worth of houses, maybe even feed a small country, much less your tuition and rent. No, you would get by on your own. Sometimes you found yourself at a poker table, often dabbling in an underground gambling ring because that’s where you could make the most of your money. (You couldn’t bring yourself to go to a casino. It would make you think of Jungkook and how much he was struggling). Who would expect a young girl who looked like she got lost on her way to a club to be any good at placing bets? It’s not your fault you grew up around brothers and friends who taught you how to play cards, molding you to have phenomenal skills in seeing through people and their tells, that they gave themselves away through their eyes. You learned how to pull off the perfect poker face, faking being naive and innocent, got them to fall in your trap and leaving them in shock when you walked away with fat wads of cash in your pocket. You guess that made you a hypocrite.

But there were times when you ran out of money and had to choose between paying a light bill or buying groceries, and you found yourself considering withdrawing from those offshore bank accounts, but you knew once you started, you wouldn’t stop. So, you would end up eating the best meals of your life in a dark and cold apartment, sitting alone with the guilt of knowing your brothers would be hurt to think you were ashamed of them.

That guilt still lingers, especially now that you’re riding in a tinted SUV, lavish seats and custom interiors, materials and technology not found in cars of the average citizen. You're well out of the bounds of average by now. You don’t feel like you belong even though your brothers are in the exact same boat.

“Is everything alright?” Mr. Han asks from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, just..." you sigh, each breath you take doing the opposite of calming the anxiety racing in your veins. "I was supposed to be managing this architecture firm with my uni friends by now, working on biophilic design that connects spaces with nature and all that.”

You hope you're hiding your bitterness better than you think, remembering how excited you’d been to finally do something you were passionate about and how quickly the ball was dropped on that.

"That sounds interesting. Maybe you can incorporate some of that at the casino when you’re doing the renovations."

"Mm. But I don't know if my future father-in-law would be down to have a bunch of plants all over the place." Mr. Han laughs. "Well, if you're the one in charge once you’re married, I don't see why not."

You smile, grateful for his support, but you know as a female CEO among a board of directors and investors that are majority men, you will only get so much leeway. But you'll have to make do with what you have. You’re an expert at this point.

"You've done a good thing by coming back to your brothers now that things are complicated." "I just... I don’t know if I can do it. Y’know. The other part."

That part being the real reason you're getting involved at the Stay Gold casino: to take care of business that belongs to your family. Not just supervising the renovations, or overseeing the slot games, blackjack and roulette tables, but keeping a tight chokehold on the money that flows in and out of all that gambling. Money that serves as a front to what you'll be taking care of behind the scenes. Essentially, you'll be a loan shark. And that's what's been keeping you up at night, knowing what comes with ensuring certain associates make their payments in timely fashions, especially if they're buying protection. At least you’ll be putting your business degree to use. "You are just as smart and tough as your brothers, if not more. You'll be able to handle it, I have no doubts, Miss Jeon."

But I’m not like them, is what you want to say, but shouldn’t because it would be a lie.

"Thanks, Mr. Han. And you know you can call me Angel.”

"Of course. I'm always here if you need anything."

And you know he means it but it's a small comfort. Mr. Han has been your brothers’ driver for as long as you can remember, always so kind and considerate, making you wonder how a man like him ended up in a job like this. When you found out you were going to have to be chauffeured around, you weren’t exactly ecstatic because you love to drive, love the freedom that comes with it, but you figured with Mr. Han, it wouldn’t be so bad.

The SUV drives through an underground tunnel, leading into a narrow road surrounded by a forest that takes you to the gated driveway of your brothers’ extravagant mansion. Mr. Han cracks open the window to speak with the armed guard who then waves to someone you can’t see and the iron-gates buzz open. The tires slowly rumble over the cobblestone, past the grand and meticulously landscaped lawn with many guards littering the property, up to the roundabout in front of the house where there's a tall, sharp-jawed, and suited guard waiting for you. Yeong, the (devastatingly handsome) man who’s been assigned to escort you whenever you show up to meet with your brothers. He opens the door and greets you politely as another guard appears from the back of the car. This one doesn’t say anything as you get out, and you’re glad because you’ve never seen him before and you don’t like interacting with any of your brothers’ men whom you haven’t met. You remind yourself and your constricting throat that these men work for your family, and you’re safer with them around than not. But still. You hate being followed and made to feel like you can’t go anywhere by yourself.

Before you can make it to the porch, your brother enthusiastically swings open one of the large double doors, quickly beckoning you in and shutting the door. As you step in and shuck off your shoes, you notice the indiscreet way he gives your outfit a onceover, like he’s never seen you in sweats before.

“Well, you didn’t have to get all dressed up just for us.” You glare at him, lifting your middle finger.

“Shut up, Jin. Just because you sleep in your suits.”

“That’s Jinnie to you,” he says through puckered lips, squishing your cheeks. “C’mere.”

He pulls you into a strong embrace that you weakly pretend to fight off.

“Missed ya, kiddo.” Taking your coat, he kisses the top of your head, and you mumble similar sentiments into his chest with a small smile that quickly turns into a scowl when he roughly rubs his knuckles into your hair.

You push him away and scurry towards the dining room, stomach growling at the wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen. If there’s one thing you’ve missed now that you’ve moved out (again), it’s Jin’s cooking. Your brothers too of course, but that’s a given.

Jungkook is there sitting in his spot, to the left of the head of the table, already eating. It looks like today is one of his good days, and you find yourself smiling. He's eating his food and not just picking at it, the bags under his eyes aren't as prominent, and his hands are steadier than usual.

"Hey, loser. You couldn’t wait for me?" you say to Jungkook as you sit across from him.

“You’re late,” he mumbles, mouth full of food, glancing at you as he chews. “Is that why you look like shit?”

“Funny, ‘cuz I dressed up like you today.” You stick your tongue out at his glare, becoming distracted when you notice something at the corner of his bottom lip.

“What is- oh that’s a stud. I thought it was a big ass zit.”

“Piss off.” He waves your hand away when you tease poking at the metal ball.

You live for bullying your brother, even though he’s two years older than you. He was pretty mean to you as a kid, so this is just payback. Sure you were annoying, but what are little sisters for? At the end of the day, you know he’s your ride or die, just like you are for him.

“It’s cute. What’s next, a tongue piercing?”

“I draw the line at tongue piercings,” Jin intervenes, calling out from the kitchen. Him and his supersonic hearing. You snicker and Jungkook just rolls his eyes.

“Any new tats?”

He shows you the additions to his full sleeve and you marvel over the designs that he created, asking the inspiration or story behind each one, always fascinated by his talent. You have a knack for drawing yourself - you wouldn’t have the passion for architecture without it - but it’s never been on the same level as Jungkook’s. Dude can paint museum-worthy landscapes and portraits within an hour. He’s annoying like that.

When you’re done examining his arm, you sit back in your chair, snatching a morsel of his food on the way and he grabs your wrist in an attempt to stop you but instead stares at your sleeve.

“Wait, this is my jersey,” he says, ignoring the way you fight to wrestle out of his grip. “I’ve been looking for this!”

“So what? It looks better on me.” You rip your arm away and you’re already halfway out of your chair just as your brother lunges over the table to grab at the jacket. You spring up and out of the dining room, a shrill laugh escaping when you look back to see Jungkook dashing after you.

You may have grown up with him, done taekwondo and thrown loads of rounds in boxing gloves with him, even gotten him into a headlock once or twice, but now he’s built like a bus, and he could bulldoze you down in two seconds flat with no regrets. And it makes you want to scream your head off.

Sprinting into the living room, you clamber over the back of the couch, knowing Jin would kill you if he saw you with both feet on the cushions, but you’re much more worried about Jungkook closing in on you.

“Go away!” you shriek when he leaps over the couch with ease, like he’s a damn gold medalist in Living Room Olympics.

“Give me my jacket!”

“I’ve had this for like three months, how are you just now missing it?” You point out as you attempt to use the coffee table as a barricade.

“I told you to stop stealing my clothes.”

“It’s only because you have such a cool style.”

He pauses to look at you like he won’t fall for your bullshit compliment. You take this lapse as an opportunity to make a run for it into the kitchen where Jin is filling a carafe of water with fresh-cut berries, rushing to hide behind him at the counter like you used to do as a kid. Jin acts unbothered, barely noticing the way you’re gripping the back of his sweater like a lifeline, only looking over his shoulder when you make a noise as Jungkook jogs towards you.

“Cheater.”

"Yah, come on, you two," Jin admonishes as Jungkook tries to grab you, making you hurry to Jin’s right, grabbing his bicep as if his big guns will protect you.

"He started it."

"Did not!" Jungkook exclaims, and you childishly stick your tongue out at him.

“Give your brother his jacket,” Jin says in a parental tone. “But I like it.” Turning around, your oldest brother levels you with a look that mirrors the one Jungkook gave you a few minutes ago and you know not to argue anymore, begrudgingly shrugging off the jersey and throwing it at your brother who catches it with a victorious smile.

“Come on, kids, let’s go eat,” Jin says as he picks up the carafe and three glasses.

Both hands on your back, Jungkook pushes you and you stumble forward.

“Ow, don’t push me. Jinnie!”

“Big baby," Jungkook mumbles through his teeth.

“Big bitch," you fire back.

Jin clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath, something about how is it that he has two siblings in their mid-20s who still act like children. And it is pretty interesting, considering you and Jungkook are about to assume control of the fucking mafia. But it’s been years since you’ve played around with your brother, and now that he’s about to take over for Jin, who knows if you’ll ever be able to do this again. The thought creates a bit of a hole in your heart, like digging a grave for something that isn’t gone yet.

Once Jin turns his back, leading the way into the dining room, you and Jungkook exchange various gestures that all silently mean “fuck you.” Jin shoots a knowing glare over his shoulder that makes you both hide your offensive hands behind your backs, forcing yourselves not to laugh.

“Are you two ever going to grow up?”

“No,” you both answer simultaneously. Jin huffs and looks between you two with a shake of his head.

“Sit down and eat before the food that I put my blood, sweat, and tears into gets cold.”

You and Jungkook share an eyeroll at Jin’s drama, digging in so he won’t try some dramatic monologue about cooking.

"So, how are you doing?" Jin asks you a few minutes into the meal. "Fine," you shrug, too focused on the food to give a more complex answer.

"You’re all settled in at the house?"

“Mhmm,” you hum indifferently, feeling your appetite slowly start to slip away. You were hoping you could have a nice, normal night with your brothers, pretending that you aren’t dreading going back to the house, to a fiancé you know next to nothing about and all of the work and unpacked boxes you have waiting in your wing of that big ass, bland ass house.

“How are you two getting along?” Internally sighing, your shoulders deflate.

“He’s not horrible, I guess. But he’s just… I don’t know. Boring. And lame. He thinks his tattoos make him look cool.” You glance at Jungkook and gesture to his sleeve.

“Which is something the two of you have in common.” Jungkook’s lip curls and he points his chopsticks at you and flinches. You blow him a kiss in return that you change to a middle finger.

“He also acts like he’s never been to the grocery store. And I very seriously doubt he can tie his own shoes. His butler does pretty much everything for him.” Just the word ‘butler’ makes you want to throw up, not to mention the fact that you’re about to marry a guy who needs one.

“But things are going okay?” Jin asks just as you shove more food in your mouth. Can’t a girl just eat?

“What is this, twenty questions?”

“I’m just checking in.”

“Okay, but can we not do this right now? Please.” You ignore the way your brothers share a look.

“If things aren’t going well, you need to tell us.”

“Things are going as well as they can for an arranged marriage. We might live on opposite ends of the house, but we’re cordial. You’re not really expecting me to actually like this whole situation, right?” Jin regards you carefully.

“No, but you do need to make sure it all works out.”

Suddenly, you've completely lost your appetite. You scowl and drop your silverware, sitting back in your chair with your arms crossed, refusing to look at them both staring at you.

“God, Jin. I agreed to marry him, didn’t I? Picked up my entire fucking life to come back here and help out even though you promised-” You point harshly at Jin who looks at you with a small frown as his fingers rub on the edge of a napkin. You know it’s not his fault but damn, it hurts that he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“That I would never have to do that. What more do you want? An heir or something?”

They both wince. “No, of course not.”

“Then lay off my ass about it. I’m fine, okay? Don’t be a helicopter.” “Honey, I just want to make sure he’s treating you right.”

“What does it matter? I’m stuck with him either way. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can. I’m only-” But you don’t want to hear anymore. With a grimace, you pick up your plate of unfinished food, scoot back your chair and stand up to head into the kitchen.

Jin leans forward with a heavy sigh, steepling his fingers, resting his forehead against them and closing his eyes.

"Way to go, hyung," you hear Jungkook mumble as you storm out of the dining room.

Stewing, you put away your leftovers and start to clean up the counters, knowing you’re the one being dramatic now but you can’t help it. This is supposed to be your safeplace, here with your brothers, especially since time with all three of you together is running out. Right now, you want to forget about all your responsibilities, all the things you have to step up to that you never imagined doing, and you wish your brothers would just go along with it. But they’re more realistic than you, it seems.

You hear dishes clink in the dining room, and soon you’re joined by your brothers, all silently working to clean up the kitchen. You pay no mind to their attempts at getting you to lighten up by nudging your shoulders, flicking water in your direction, and taking over the dish scrubbing, and it isn’t until Jin shoves a glass of sparkling cider in your hands just as you try to make an escape to the living room do you lose your resolve.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Jin says as he and Jungkook corral you towards the couch.

You huff, fingers rolling on the stem of the glass, swirling the red content inside, and sit on the plush cushion, your brothers on either side of you.

“I’m not. Just- I can’t remember the last time all three of us have been in one place and I didn’t want to talk about any outside stuff. I just wanted to pretend that things are how they used to be. Because what if-” A lump forms in your throat.

“What if this is actually the last time?” Jin reaches forward and grabs your hand, a serious line knitted through his eyebrows.

“It won’t be. I promise.” “You’ve always told us to never make promises.”

“Well, I made the rules so I can change them. I am going to come back,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but-”

“You know something’s starting right now? Okay, Ariel,” Jungkook cuts in, grinning when you snort and Jin shoots him a scowl, leaning over to roughly ruffle his hair. You laugh at Jungkook’s dirty look when he thinks Jin just messed up his hair and Jin tries to fix it but ends up making it worse and a small hand-slapping fight ensues. This is what you’ll miss. This dynamic, where no matter how hard you all try, you can never be serious.

“Do you think we can go on a trip?” you ask out of the blue, casted by a nostalgic wave longing for memories that make you feel normal.

“Y'know, to the cabin? Just for a couple of days.” Jin smiles, but it’s small. Jungkook doesn’t look at either of you.

Ever since you can remember, any spare time Jin had, he whisked you and Jungkook away to a cabin somewhere in the mountains, never going to the same spot twice. You waited for the days that Jin would show up at the boarding school, make up some excuse to get you both out and drive up to a cabin where he would let you both run wild. In the woods was where you learned how to ride your bike and climb a tree, legs swinging from a branch with Jin standing underneath you, arms held out like you’d fall any second. You were too busy yelling at Jungkook to stop throwing sticks and leaves at you from a few branches above. A cool summer sunset by a river was where you caught your first fish that Jungkook ended up chasing you around with for a good five minutes. You screamed at the top of your lungs, Jungkook cackled maniacally, and Jin did his best not to laugh, only grabbing the fish out of his brother’s hands once you began to run around him like a maypole. Later, you got your revenge by shoving the chopped fish head in his face after Jin started cooking. Jungkook cried all throughout dinner and, in your stubbornness, you refused to apologize so Jin made you hold hands for the remainder of the night until one of you caved.

As you got older and Jin got busier, he would allow you to make plans with your friends to go to a cabin in a discreet location, whether that was in the woods or by the beach. You loved your friends, but you always found yourself missing Jin, wishing he was there to cook and make lame dad jokes, play guitar by a fire he started and act out ridiculous stories until you and Jungkook were rolling on the ground with stomachs that ached from laughing so much.

It wasn’t until you were much older that you realized those trips to the cabin were the only times the three of you spent together where Jin wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder. Sometimes though, he wouldn’t speak for a while, a blank yet morose energy surrounding him that he could only shake himself out of if you and Jungkook poked and prodded him enough. In the woods, he never wore a mask or sunglasses or a variety of hats like he did when he came to pick you up from school. Later down the line, Jungkook had to do that too and that’s when everything started to change. You could no longer see each other unless the location and meeting times were planned in advance, and there were always some men in suits, sunglasses, and dark coats with wires hanging out of their ears accompanying you.

A year after Jungkook graduated from secondary school was when things fell apart. Jin made you promise to never speak about either of them to anyone, and helped you come up with a pseudonym. By the time he shipped you off to study abroad once you started university, you never used your real name and neither did they. From then on, you only spoke to your brothers on the phone, one that you had to pick up at a convenience store and dispose of once you were done. The calls were typically short - Jin asking if you were doing well in school, if you ate enough, had enough money. You rarely spoke with Jungkook, as he spent a lot of time going in and out of rehab, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was learning the family business with Jin. You missed him, your partner in crime, and you wished you could take him with you, keep him away from your father so maybe he could have a chance at healing, but that wasn’t in the cards. Jin explained time and time again, that this was how things had to be. He may have raised both of you, been the reason you were alive and thriving, but he had no control over the circumstances at home. You couldn’t go back, he wouldn’t let you, and for a while, you thought you’d never see your brothers again.

(There was a time when you did go back, but they never knew about it. When you were feeling homesick, you took a ferry to Jeju to visit the beach where you spent a few summers with your brother and your friends. You spent a few days reminiscing about old times, old friends. It was nice to get away, to feel something familiar for a moment, hang on to memories that you would give anything to relive. But you don’t like to think about that trip anymore. And sometimes you wish you’d never gone back.)

Now you just want to go to the cabin to cling onto the past, of how things used to be, because you know nothing will ever again be the same.

"We can't, Angel. I'm sorry. I have to leave in a few days." And just like that, the wave crashes onto the shores of despair.

“What? You said you had until next month.” Your brothers share another look, another tell that they’ve been keeping you out of the loop of something.

“I do, but I think it’s best to leave earlier so it won’t be glaringly obvious that I got tipped on my arrest warrant.”

“Yeah, probably,” you agree dejectedly. “It was just hard not being home all this time, so I wanted us to hang out. I guess I like you guys or something. Weird, right?” “Totally. ‘Cause we hate you,” Jungkook teases. You scoff and grab a pillow to whack him with over Jin’s head. Jin laughs and lets you get in a few hits before tugging the throw out of your hand, whacking the side of your head, and tossing it on the other end of the couch out of reach.

Silence sits between you for a few moments until Jungkook stands, tugs you up on your feet, and shoves his phone into your hands.

He tries to teach you dance moves from Tik Tok trends, laughing a little too hard when you mess up, and Jin ultimately has to break up a small wrestling match. After you finish filming one video that will forever sit in drafts, Jin gets out the game console and wipes the floor with you and Jungkook on Super Mario. He brags loudly, enticing you both to tackle him, but despite your conjoined efforts, he somehow gets you and Jungkook into simultaneous headlocks, not letting go until you profess that he’s the unmatched master of Mario.

Jungkook then puts on his favorite movie, to which you and Jin stifle groans as you’re made to watch Iron Man for what has to be the millionth time. Jungkook just claps giddily when the Avengers theme song blares through the speakers and neither of you can deny this small happiness. It’s good to see him smile. But throughout the movie, you shoot him small glances out of your periphery when you notice him biting his nails and you know he’s zoned out, and that it’s not a good place where his mind wandered off to. You gently grab his hand and push it down, and he goes to cross his arms like he’s ashamed, but you keep hold of his hand, folding them together and resting them between you. Giving your hand a squeeze, he offers you a tiny smile and goes back to fully engage with the movie.

When the credits roll, you tease Jin for immediately yawning and stretching as he announces he’s turning in. You ask Jungkook if he’s up for a game of Overwatch that he starts up without a word and passes you a console.

After a few minutes of playing, Jin emerges from the kitchen with a couple bowls of snacks and bottles of your favorite drinks that he sets down in front of you on the carpet. You both thank him in unison without taking your attention off the game and he huffs an endeared laugh.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Jin murmurs from behind you both, ruffling your hair. “Crazy kids.”

“Night, grandpa,” you smirk, laughing when Jin pushes your head.

He goes upstairs and leaves you to play the game. But every now and then, you glance over to Jungkook, wanting to check in on him. It’s been a minute since you've had a one-on-one.

“You look like you’re doing good.”

“I’m trying,” he mumbles a bit stiffly, eyes unmoving from the screen, and you take in his tense expression.

“That’s all that matters, bro.” You lightly punch his bicep, and he playfully tips sideways. “You know you can talk to me anytime.”

“Yeah.” It doesn’t seem like he wants to, at least not about certain things, but you need him to know that of all the things that are changing, the fact that you’re his kid sister who he can lean on will stay the same.

“I wish I had been home more often,” you say tentatively. “I know Jin couldn’t always be around.”

He shrugs, nose scrunching. “S’alright, I wasn’t alone. D was there.”

You’ve heard about D. How he had Jungkook’s back in a jail fight a few years ago when Jungkook had a habit of lashing out and starting fights to prove he was tough. Which he was but that didn’t matter if he was outnumbered. When he was booked for a DUI (riding on his motorcycle half-drunk like a dummy) and forced to go through withdrawal, it increased his violent tendencies. After accusing a burly man twice his size for looking at him the wrong way, he found himself getting beat up on by three grown felons in the middle of the yard. He would’ve ended up with a cracked skull if it wasn’t for D. And from then on, he became your brother’s guardian angel of sorts and eventually began working for them.

“You’ll meet him tomorrow at dinner.” You hum, mildly disinterested.

Joy. Spending an evening with your brothers’ capos and guards is just how you wanted to enjoy your last weekend with the both of them. Not.

“And, um, we workout at the boxing club every Friday. Maybe you could join us.”

You look over at him incredulously. There was a time when your brother acted like you tagging along with his friends was a punishment worse than hell.

“You mean you want me to box with you?” He shrugs.

“Gotta make sure you can still fight.”

You roll your eyes. Of course you can still fight. You’ve just been able to get out of precarious situations before you had the need to throw hands. For the most part. That’s the difference between you and your brother - he goes looking for trouble while you do your best to avoid it. But neither of you will be backed into a corner and made to stay there. You won’t go down easy.

“So you down?”

“I won’t be getting in the way of boy time with D?” Smiling, he shakes his head.

“Nah. But you could stand to learn a thing or two from him; he’s a damn good fighter.”

“Better than you?”

“No one’s better than me,” he smirks.

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.” He chuckles and fakes a slow punch on the side of your head.

“You still have that knife I gave you a few years ago?” You think for a moment. Right before you went abroad for college, Jungkook gave you the blade he carried with him everywhere, one that was sheathed in your favorite color and had a strap attached to it. You cherish it, but you’ve never had to use it. But you figure that’s about to change.

“Oh, yeah, it’s somewhere. I didn’t have a lot of time to really organize when I was packing. Why?”

“You should keep it on you from now on. Just in case.”

“You mean you’re not gonna be around to protect me, big brother?” you tease. He shoots you a little smile but when his eyes focus back on the screen, you notice him squint and nibble on his bottom lip for a second. You can’t help the feeling that he’s keeping something to himself.

“Not always.”

You frown. There was a small comfort in thinking that you could rely on him when for years you’ve been apart, but now as new circumstances arise, you don’t know if you’ll be able to see each other as much as you want to. Definitely not enough to make up for lost time.

Just as you’re about to tell him not to worry because you’re a big girl, more of an assurance to yourself, he clears his throat to change the subject again.

“D is really cool, I think you’ll like him.” You offer a mostly sincere smile, thinking to yourself that it sounds as if your brother is trying to sell you on D’s character. You don’t think you’ll care much for it, since he’s Jungkook’s security and all and you won’t be interacting with him much. But you’ll try if it means something to your brother.

“If he’s anything like you, then I doubt it.” His head snaps in your direction and in a fraction of a second, his arm hooks around your neck and pulls you into him, forcing your face into his shoulder so you can’t see a thing.

You fight your way out of his headlock, exclaiming when you notice that he’s beating your ass on the game, and lean on your elbow to press your foot on his cheek in an attempt to distract him, but he only laughs. You complain and cuss him out as he starts winning and reach over to wrestle the controller out of his hands. As you tussle loudly, Jin’s upstairs bedroom door opens and he calls down the hall,

“Keep it down! I need my beauty sleep!”

“You sure do!” Jungkook shouts back, sending you both in a fit of giggles when you hear his door slam shut loudly in response. You come to a truce, if only to save yourselves from facing a grumpy Jin in the morning.

You play and talk into the wee hours of the sunrise, until you slump next to each other and pass out, bellies full and faces covered with evidence of Jin’s snacks that you demolished.

The sky is a gray-blue hue when you’re stirred by your brother talking in his sleep and his incoherent mumbling makes you coo. But just as you go to cover him up with a blanket, he yells out nonsensically, leg kicking over a near empty bottle and sending the rest of the contents into the carpet. His arm shoots up into the air and panic begins to set in when he thrashes around on the floor. After getting the dishes and consoles out of the way, you run up the stairs to Jin’s room, barging in without knocking so you can quickly wake him up. Shaking his shoulder, you stutter out his name and he groans upon being disturbed.

“God, what-” “He’s having a night terror.” Without a second missed, Jin flings himself out of bed and races out of his room and down the stairs, with you following close behind.

Once back in the living room, Jin rushes to Jungkook’s side, who’s now flailing his limbs and shouting but still fast asleep. You watch as your oldest brother gets on his knees, not hesitating to grab Jungkook’s arms, pin them to his abdomen so he can pull him up and against his chest, all while calling his name to try and wake him. Jungkook’s eyes fly open with a gasp and his body reacts violently against Jin’s who almost ends up with an elbow in the chin. But Jin is an expert at handling Jungkook’s episodes, and he knows just what to do to keep them both safe while he gets him to calm down.

“Shh, bunny,” Jin hushes as Jungkook’s body fights him, rubbing his chest and shoulders to soothe. “It’s okay. I’m here, your sister’s here, you’re alright.”

There are visible tears streaming down your brother’s face and you have to sit on the step and cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from crying. It hurts so fucking bad to see him this way. It’s been years since the last time you’ve witnessed this, but you know he’s had many in between that Jin has been around for.

“Honey,” Jin calls to you softly above Jungkook’s sobs. “Go up to my bathroom and get out the lock box that’s under the sink. His medicine’s in there. Grab my wallet too, on the dresser.”

With a solemn nod, you stand and turn around as Jungkook slings an arm over Jin’s shoulder to hide in his neck, and your foot freezes mid-step when you hear him loudly wail again and Jin hushes him, rubs his back, and you hurry up the stairs again to grab what you hope will let Jungkook get some rest, some escape, some peace. You come back down with the lockbox and wallet to find Jin sitting on the couch, Jungkook curled up under a blanket with his head in Jin’s lap, chest heaving as he lays on his side. You approach them slowly, and Jin quietly instructs you to get out a small key from his wallet to open the lockbox, which carries Jungkook’s medicine that helps with his anxiety and parasomnia. You head into the kitchen to grab a glass of water while Jin encourages Jungkook to sit up and by the time you return, he seems to be breathing a little easier. After he drinks down a pill, he lays back down and you hope he’ll be able to sleep without another disruption.

You and Jin watch him for a few moments, and when it finally seems that he’s settled, you share a collective sigh of relief. But still, you’re worried. It scares you to see him that way.

“When was the last time this happened?” Jin looks so tired as he tries not to frown.

“More frequently now that you’re back home. Usually he does better when you’re around but. He feels bad that you’re doing this. He thinks if it weren’t for him and everything that happened, you could’ve stayed abroad and made a life for yourself.”

It’s true. You would never say it to their faces, but it is the truth.

“But… then I would never see you guys again.” Your throat tightens.

“And now that you’re leaving,” you sniff, tears threatening to prick your waterline. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

In the dim light, Jin beckons you over, soft affection in his eyes, and you squeeze in between him and the end of the couch. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses the top of your head.

“You’re a good kid, honey. Even though I never wanted this for you, for either of you, I feel better knowing that you’re going to look out for each other.”

“Me too, Jinnie.”

He pats your arm and you sit quietly for a few minutes with your head on his shoulder, starting to feel sleepy again, safe and assured by Jin’s embrace. Jungkook is snoring now, the meds must’ve kicked in. He won’t talk about this in the morning, and neither of you will ask him to.

"And, about Jay,” your eyes blink open at his gentle tone. “I was thinking maybe what we can do is send him out on business trips so he's not around as much.”

You smile, arm curling around his thick bicep. “Thanks, Jinnie.”

“Just play nice, okay? It’ll all work out.”

You nod, too tired to let that potential burden add to your stress. Pretending to be completely fine with the engagement is the least of your worries right now.

The venue that Jin chose to host the small get-together of you and his men sits on the private top floor of one of the many skyscrapers he owns that you’ve had dreams of designing. Yeong walks at a comfortable distance behind you, quiet but gentlemanly. Stoic, which seems to be a uniform demeanor among your brothers’ men, one Jin expects you to replicate. You know that’s really your father’s expectation, but he’s gone. You would find it difficult to respect him anyway.

Striding into the dining hall, you pay no mind to all of his henchmen in the room, only giving focus to the one who stands out among them all, and not just because of his looming height and broad shoulders. Nor are you intimidated by the commandeering authority that follows him wherever he goes.

“Jin!” you call, making all heads turn to you but you act as if no one but your brother is here. He twists to face you with that shining smile of his that you know is reserved for a select few.

When you walk over to the table, air hazy with cigar smoke, liquor, and low conversation, you keep your expression polite despite the heat that spreads through you when all eyes fall on you. Yeong is close behind and reaches out for a chair once you approach the head of the table, greeting your brother who stands up from his proverbial throne to welcome you.

“Hey, sis. You look nice,” he says warmly, leaning in to welcome you into your seat and you smile, thanking Yeong who pushes in your chair once you sit. Just as you do, Jin leans in to whisper in your ear,

“You’ve got to get used to not using real names here, Angel.” Pulling away, you cringe and mouth your apology that he dismisses with a singular nod.

“Uh, where’s bro? He always gives me shit for being late.” Jin smiles as he sits back down.

“He’s on his way. He was at the gym with D.”

You nod and take a look around the room, noticing that you’re the only woman. Since your brother is here, you’re not worried, but it does feel suffocating. Is this how it’s always going to be from now on?

“How you doin’, Angel,” a deep voice says on your right, and your demeanor brightens when you glance over to see Namjoon pulling out the chair next to you.

“Oh, hey, Moon! Aren’t you sick of me by now?” You tease as he sits down, heart blipping at the beautiful smile on his face. You’ve been working with him these past couple of months, Namjoon preparing and training you for your role at the casino. Extremely intelligent and well-versed, he’s not your brother’s right-hand man for no reason. He knows all of the Crow’s business dealings like the back of his hand, and you feel confident having someone like him to guide you. That paired with his easy-going and wholesome persona, and the fact that you could chat with him about books and music for hours, you can’t deny your itty bitty crush on him. If only you weren’t engaged and he didn’t have a girlfriend. At least one of you is in a happy relationship.

“Of you? Never.” You ignore the mild warmth in your cheeks and playfully nudge him with your elbow. Damn him and his natural charisma.

“So, are you ready for next week?” Ugh. You don’t like the anchor of dread that sinks in your gut at the thought of finally becoming an official member of the family business.

“No,” you mumble because there’s no reason to lie to Namjoon.

“Oh, come on. Yes, you are.” Your palms start to sweat and you put the menu down so as to not ruin it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” you say quietly, stealing a glance at Jin to make sure he’s not listening, glad he’s too busy accepting a top-off on his drink.

“You have a mentor as amazing and smart as me, you’re more than ready.” You roll your eyes at his cheeky grin.

“You’ve been hanging around Jin too much,” you mutter and he laughs.

“Well, just know that no matter what, I’ll be right there with you so you don’t have to worry.” That fact makes you breathe a little easier, but there’s still a layer of anxiety underneath your skin. Just then, a slender, vaguely familiar man walks in and heads straight for Jin who does a double take, immediately holding out a welcoming handshake that lingers a little too long once the man accepts.

“Who’s that?”

“Jung,” Namjoon answers with a single glance. You hold up your menu to hide your face as you whisper,

“Agent Jung?” He nods and turns his cheek to utter another reminder.

“Just be careful where you say that.”

Right. You never know who could be listening, so it’s probably not a good idea to mention the man’s real identity in all this. The CIA agent posing as an informant, but really he’s in cahoots with your brothers, covering up their dirty tracks with the occasional bribe of public officials.

“He goes by Hope, but close friends call him Hobi. You could probably get away with calling him that.”

“What’s he doing here?” You can’t help but watch closely the way your brother engages with Hope. His body language is rigid and fidgety, like he’s nervous, but his eyes are soft and wide. Small indications that there’s definitely something going on between the two of them and you’re excited to gossip about it with Jungkook. Because you know all too well how good Jin is at lying.

“Well, your brother wanted you both to be acquainted because the feds might take an interest in you once you take over the casino. He’ll come back to work undercover again if that happens.”

You still as realization takes over, muscles in your face hardening as your heart does a somersault.

“Is that the big secret?”

“What?”

“They’ve been keeping something from me.”

“Um, I’m- I don’t know,” he says in an uneven cadence, and, looking over at him, you notice a slight purse of his lips and realize he’s a terrible liar.

You just got here, but you already need a breather. The cigar smoke isn’t helping either, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom to get some fresh air.

As you rise, Yeong habitually appears next to you, but you place a soft hand on his shoulder, shaking your head to tell him it’s not necessary to escort you out. You internally scream when he looks over at your brother, as if needing his permission to let you go without accompaniment. Jin waves two fingers with a nod, silently dismissing Yeong’s duty and you try not to let that small interaction visibly bother you as you turn away from the table.

The bathroom is empty, thank god, but now you just feel isolated. Especially when you pull out your phone, eager to call up one of your friends and vent, but even if they might pick up despite being on another part of the hemisphere, there’s no way you could tell them anything.

You blink and a face you haven’t seen in a long time spawns in the forefront of your mind, heart sinking when you know he would be the one to call at a time like this but you haven’t spoken to him in years. Not since he had a falling out with your brother and left town shortly after without a word, cutting you deep because you thought you were more important to him than that. Even though it broke your heart, you understood why he left the way he did. You just sometimes wish he could’ve taken you with him.

With no one to call and nowhere else to go, you finish up in the bathroom with a deep breath and a practiced smile in the mirror, rolling your eyes at yourself and heading for the door with a huff at how fake you look.

When you emerge, your attention is buried in your phone, and you end up bumping into someone in the hallway.

“Oh, sorry,” you blurt, feeling two hands hover on your shoulders when you stumble back from being caught off guard. You don’t look up right away, gauging from the black fitted suit and long trench coat that this is one of your brother’s men.

“No, my fault,” he says and the gravelly timbre in his voice tickles a part of your brain. Normally you’re good at reading people, sometimes from just their aura, but there’s something about him that you can’t quite place. So you keep your head down.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Yeah, he definitely works for your brothers. Everyone who knows who they are, calls them ‘boss’ or ‘sir’ and as their sister, you deserve the same title and respect that comes with it. Another thing you’ll have to get used to. But it still fills you with an odd feeling that you don’t really like, and you excuse yourself, not waiting for him to step out of the way so you can head back to the dining room. As you pass him, you catch the earthy musk of his cologne mixed with underlying traces of mint and something woody and it makes you involuntarily look over your shoulder to see what kind of man wears such a scent, only to find that he’s not there. He disappeared just as quietly as he’d approached.

Back in the room, you smile upon seeing Jungkook sitting to the right of your brother, and you can’t help but go up behind him, playfully smack the back of his head with your clutch, and sit beside him like nothing happened.

“You took my seat,” you say, feeling his glare on you.

“Children,” Jin grits through a smile just as Jungkook opens his mouth to argue. “Let’s not do this in front of company.”

Jungkook huffs in annoyance and opts to pinch your leg under the table, and you hold back a squeal, not daring to retaliate when Jin glares at the two of you over the brim of his glass.

As you turn your attention to the menu, you notice in your periphery Jungkook looking over his left shoulder, lifting his hand to someone behind him. When you look back as well, your heart palpitates at the sight of a tall, lithe man with black hair that reaches his neck, slicked behind his ears, and eyes hidden by tinted shades striding towards the table.

“Hey, D,” Jin says to the man as he steps up next to him. “Good to see you.”

So, this is the infamous D.

“Boss,” he acknowledges, and turns to Jungkook to tap his bicep with the back of his hand. “Sorry I brought him late.”

“No worries, you’re just in time to order. Take a seat.” D nods and you watch him slightly lift his chin over Jungkook’s head, no doubt taking a glance at you that lasts a mere second before moving to walk behind your brother and consequently you. Time seems to freeze as he starts to pass you, and although you can’t see his eyes, you feel them lock on you, and your heart does gymnastics before stopping completely.

No way. No fucking way. The man who stands above you can’t be the same man who you shared a night with, years ago. A night that creeps back into your memory after you think you’ve forgotten. And a face that haunts your dreams and makes you miss something you never really had. At least, not long enough to count for something.

As he passes, you catch the smell of the cologne that matches exactly to the scent of the man you bumped into in the hallway. Nausea creeps up from the pit of your stomach and you quickly look away, but to your absolute horror, your brother stops him in his tracks right beside you.

“Oh, D. Meet our sister, Angel.” On your right, he swivels on his heel and your breath catches in your throat when he tips towards you in a respectful bow.

“Good to meet you.” He holds out his hand to offer a kind greeting, but it only makes you sick. You swallow thickly, wanting nothing more than to ignore his offering, but you know you can’t purposely be rude, especially not in front of Jin. You have to be polite to him, no matter how much it might kill you, because you can’t let your brothers catch onto something that shouldn’t be there. And after years of playing poker, you’ve learned how to perfect hiding how you really feel. For the most part.

So, swallowing your rage, you muster the courage to turn in your seat to face him, plastering on the fakest smile you can manage and reach out to roughly grab his hand, breath catching in your lungs at the lightning you feel at his warm, soft but slightly calloused touch because you remember them so, so well.

Sometimes in your loneliest, darkest moments, you close your eyes and conjure up the memories of the way those hands once ran over every inch of your body, just like those lips, those eyes, and other parts of him that graced you and lit up your skin, sunk into your bones in a way that made you ache. And that ache lasted, in your heart, in your gut, in between your legs ever since that morning when you woke up expecting to see him next to you, only to find cold and empty sheets. Like he was never there. And you found yourself wishing you could rip out the ghost of his touch from beneath your skin, but it was practically etched into your soul, like it was meant to be there forever.

“Pleasure,” you say through a sickly-sweet smile, wishing you could see beyond his shades for any sign that he knows who you are, or if he’s just forgotten you. It has been three years after all. You catch a light, but noticeable scar slashed vertically on his right eye, partially hidden by his dark glasses. Your heart pangs when you don’t remember that being there the last time you saw him, but he hurt you, intensely, and now he’s acting like he doesn’t know you so fuck him. The sight of that scar compels you to look down at his hand clasped in yours and, in a flash, turn it sideways so you can see the diagonal gash that starts at his knuckles and ends by his wrist, which you do remember. You let go of his hand as if it scalded you and turn your attention back to the table, your mind and pulse racing at this feeling of yet another situation being out of your control. You want to tell your brothers right now about everything, get him off your back and out of your life, but knowing what consequences he would face stops you. He’s lucky Jungkook considers him a friend. Because otherwise, you’d have him thrown into the bottom of the Han river.

Jin calls for rounds of wine and whiskey as the group of men engage in small talk, and you appreciate your brothers who include you as much as possible. You hear conversations of Jin asking Namjoon how it’s going with your onboarding for the casino, and you do your best to contribute, but it’s hard to do it through the static going on in your head that you can’t quell, brought on by the man sitting across the table a few seats down, next to Hope who’s chatting his ear off. He has not looked your way once despite your many stolen and partially involuntary glances, only adding fire to the flame.

Two hours pass for everyone to finish off their meal, drinks, and conversation about work and other things that you tune out. Eventually, Jin starts to hint that he’s ready for the dinner to come to an end, and you sit quietly as he thanks his friends for coming. They all bid their goodbyes and most offer handshakes and arm taps as they wish him well. When they turn to go, Jin’s eyes linger on their backs until the next friend comes up.

As you wait for your brother to end the night for you as well, all who’s left is D, Namjoon and Hope, and they move closer to the head of the table once the rest of the room files out. A pit settles in your gut when D sits directly across from you.

Those goddamn shades. You can’t even tell if he’s looking at you.

“Thank you all for staying after,” Jin says after he returns to his chair, knocking back the last of his drink. He gestures to the table. But you speak before he can continue, pretending to check your manicure when Jin looks over, so he doesn't catch the way you were just staring down the man across from you.

“Isn’t it rude to wear sunglasses inside?” You ask your brother. “I thought you were all about respect.”

Jungkook nudges you and whispers behind his hand, “Why are you being a dick?”

You don’t respond, acting as if you didn’t hear him. Because you can’t answer that. Jin sighs and there’s a subtle squint of his eyes at you before he gestures to the man beside him.

“D, if you wouldn’t mind.”

D says nothing (you want to scream that’s not his real name but you’re not sure if your brothers even know that) and raises his hands to remove the sunglasses, expression remaining blank. Once they’re folded and slipped into the inside pocket of his blazer, he finally lifts his bare gaze to you, scar on full display, and your heart slams in your chest. Because those eyes that seem to look right through you, are far too cold and vacant, void of everything that made you once believe you had a shot at something real.

“So, since you’re starting at the casino next week, I want to discuss security. I’m assigning you new detail.” You look at him with a puzzled expression.

“What's wrong with the team there?”

“I'm talking about your personal guard." Your eyebrows furrow. So this is what your brothers have actually been hiding from you.

“Isn’t that Yeong’s job?”

“He doesn’t have enough experience to handle your protection around the clock.” “Around the clock? You’re joking.”

“I’m not."

You huff and cross your arms. “And if I don’t agree?”

“That’s not an option.”

“Fine. Who did you hire to basically stalk me?”

“D will take on as your guard and driver.”

Ha. Haha. This isn’t real. What kind of joke is the universe playing on you? And why are you the punchline?

You turn to Jungkook. “Isn’t he your security?”

“Yes,” Jin answers. “But since you’re going to be dealing with the public and crews and potential feds at the casino, D has the knowledge and experience to help with everything, so he’s being reassigned to you.”

How can it be this fucking coincidental for the man who dug a crack into your soul, filled it with light, and crushed it when he left with no warning become the new head of your security? Complete and utter bullshit.

"Angel,” Jin mutters, urging you to say something.

“Fuck this,” you spit, eyes darting to the man you speak of to see if your words affect him but when he doesn’t give anything away it only makes you angrier.

“I’m not doing it.” You stand up to head for the door, but your brother's loud, bellowing voice puts a halt to your escape.

“Yes, you are. This is not a game; you don’t have a choice.”

Your head spins. This is too much too fast. All of your control and independence is being ripped out right from under you, and you already feel weighed down by it. Seething, you glance between him and his men, and you don’t want it to look like you’re throwing a temper tantrum. You wonder if this is why your brothers chose to tell you here, in front of everyone, testing you to see if you’ll control yourself.

“I already can’t drive myself anymore, and your guards have to be up my ass when I come here. Yeong has to check in with you to make sure I’m allowed to go to the fucking bathroom alone, your dirty cop is gonna pretty much spy on me at work, and now you want this goon to follow me around everywhere?”

“Look, I know you don’t like this, but-” “No, I don’t.”

“But,” he continues sternly, glare on you growing harsher. “I don’t think you realize the calamity of the situation you’re about to be in and I have to take all the necessary precautions to ensure your safety.” “Meaning I have to be fucking babysat?” you spit with vitriol, and Jungkook puts a hand on your elbow in an attempt to pull you down a notch now that Jin’s expression is contorting into one that shows he will not entertain this conversation for much longer as your brother. Being the boss in front of you has never been something he’s wanted you to see, but right now you’re pushing the limits. You don’t care, however, so you rip your arm out of Jungkook’s grip who resigns with a sigh while you keep your fiery stare on your oldest brother where there’s a likeness in his own.

“Don’t speak to me that way, Angel.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m a little kid, Jinnie,” you sneer, using his nickname un-endearingly.

“I told you about not using real names,” he booms, fist falling on the table. You don’t flinch.

“You’re one of us now, you need to start acting like it. And you’re going to start by listening to what I say and showing some respect. Otherwise, we’ll have to have an entirely different conversation, and I really don’t want us to go there.”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but you’d be stupid to fuck around and find out.

“As a woman in this business, you are much more vulnerable and at risk and it’s my job to protect you. That’s just reality. So you need to have security in place, especially by tomorrow. Am I being clear?”

You grind your teeth. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I go home now?”

“I’m about to go over the plans for tomorrow. Sit down.”

“Please, I want to go home; I have a lot of things to do. You know I haven’t even unpacked everything yet? I’m practically sleeping in that office.”

You do your best to keep out any expletives, even though you have many to fire off, so you don’t show more disrespect, but your mild lack of control has you muttering under your breath, “No thanks to you.”

Beside you, Jungkook presses his hands together in front of his face like a prayer while Jin shakes his head, eyes closing, and rubs a hand over his forehead like you’re giving him a migraine.

“I’ll get you some help, I’ll get whatever you need. But right now, I need you to stay so we can talk everything out because shit is about to get real. Please sit down.”

You do so with extreme reluctance, the concoction of conflicted emotions swirling in your chest making it increasingly difficult to pay attention to any of what he says. As parts of your mind and body drift in and out of your subconscious, you’re startled out of a staring contest with the edge of the table by Jungkook nudging your shoulder. Relaxing your jaw that was painfully clenched, you lift your head to notice that all eyes are on you, minus one particular pair.

“Sorry, what?”

Jin sighs and gestures to the other side of the table. “Hope was asking if you’d be willing to meet with him in a couple of weeks to check if you have any problems to report.”

“Sure, whatever. I mean, I don’t have a choice either way, right?” you mutter, throwing your brother's words back in his face. You feel Jin’s eyes burning a hole in the side of your face and you know you’ll get an earful from him later.

You glance over to see Hope looking at you with a half-smile and there’s a bit of guilt at how you just came across. You really want to disappear.

“Is that all? May I be excused now?” you ask Jin tersely. He rubs a hand over his mouth like he’s preventing himself from further calling you out. Keeping his stare locked with yours, he raises a dismissive hand.

“D, can you escort her down to the garage? Mr. Han will drive her home.” You close your eyes in relief. “And exchange information on the way; you’ll be picking her up tomorrow evening.”

“Yes, boss.”

You turn around before he stands up, making a beeline for the door because you’re boiling up like a tea kettle. The room seems to be chasing you, closing in on you, like a hand around your throat that you can’t fight off. By the hairs raised on the back of your neck, you can tell he’s coming up behind you so you pick up the pace, jamming your finger into the down button on the elevator. You silently thank it when it only takes a few seconds to arrive, the one thing on your side tonight, so that you can step in before he reaches you. You rapidly press the close button, your eyes narrowed in the harshest glare at his face as he sticks out his hand but he’s too late, the doors rumble shut, sealing him out.

Alone in the elevator, there’s so much going through your mind that it hurts to think. So many emotions and feelings are swirling in your chest that you have no idea where to start to pick apart and process. All you know is that you want to get as far away from him as possible. How the tables have turned.

It’s freezing down in the garage, and Mr. Han has yet to arrive, much to your chagrin. The bubbling beneath the surface of your skin grows to a rage when you hear leather shoes pad onto the concrete.

“Angel-”

Oh, hell no! He doesn’t get to be casual. He doesn’t get to say your name. It’s not your real one, but it was real to him.

You twist around. “Don’t be informal."

Expression unchanged, he apologizes and corrects himself then steps forward with a hand held out, carrying your coat that you forgot upstairs.

You give it a side glance and snatch it away, tucking it under your crossed arms, because you prefer to be stubborn and cold. You refuse to face him, even when he clears his throat and takes another step towards you.

“Let me give you my number,” he says, reaching into his inside pocket to pull out his phone. An indignant laugh bubbles in your throat, too painful to let out.

Now… Now you get his number?? This is the universe laughing at you right in your face. You say nothing, not even acknowledging what he said, as if you didn’t hear him at all.

You just stare at the curb, desperately waiting for Mr. Han to pull up and take you away. In this moment, he’s your only friend in the world.

Seconds go by, and the man beside you reaches back into his jacket, trading his phone for… a pen? He then plucks out the white handkerchief folded neatly in his chest pocket, spreads it on his palm, and flicks the pen over it before passing it to you.

You stare at the handkerchief, at the numbers messily stained on the fabric, and crumple it in your hand, balling it into a tight fist.

Acting on autopilot with a question that’s been spinning around your mind since you shook his hand at dinner, you whip around to face him, faltering slightly when he’s closer than you realized.

“Did you know?” you snap. “This whole time. Did you know about me?”

His face remains emotionless and even though he’s not wearing his shades, you can't see any kind of reaction in his eyes.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Oh. So he wants to play games. And he’s a fucking coward.

"Then let’s get one thing clear,” you grit, holding up your pointer finger. “If you think I'm gonna be nice to you, think again. And since you couldn’t give a shit about me, don't pretend to be nice either."

You get right in his face, but he doesn’t react or move away, and you wonder what it would take for him to stand down.

“Cross me in any way, I’ll tell my brothers who you really are.”

You stare, unblinkingly, in his eyes, searching, waiting for any sign that he’s the least bit intimidated by your threat. But there’s nothing. Just blank, soulless eyes. And to think they once set your heart on fire. Now they’ve turned it to ash.

How you ever fell for them, you’ll never know.

Clearly, you’re a fool.

“We’ll see how long you last, Min Yoongi.”

When you get home, you decline all calls from your brothers and march into your room, not bothering to change, and dig through all of your unpacked boxes searching for an old plastic bag containing a hoodie and a chain that you’ve been carrying around with you for years but you don’t know why. You find Jungkook’s knife, but not the bag and now you’re left with the aftermath of a tornado on your bedroom floor. You spend all night putting everything in its place until the sun rises and your mind is numb, anything to ignore the swarm of angry wasps buzzing in your head because the man you’ve been trying so long to forget just somehow stuck himself in your life, like a knife in your chest.

For the rest of the day, you throw yourself back into the plethora of files you’ve poured over with Namjoon for what seems like hundreds of times. You go through all the budgets, contracts, blueprints, and black books until time bleeds into the late afternoon. But you can’t rest, for those harsh, dark eyes will come back to haunt you in your dreams. You’ll have flashbacks of that night, of him and it will only cause your chest to collapse into a black hole and swallow every last drop of color in your soul.

Jay saunters into the foyer, wolf-whistling upon seeing you and an unsettling feeling takes over when he walks up to you.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream come true?” he muses, shamelessly checking you out and you shoot him a fake smile.

“Thank you,” you say politely, borderline sarcastic, and focus your attention on your reflection in the mirror as you fix your hair and earrings, putting your best poker face on now that your fiancé is standing a few feet away.

“You’re having dinner with your brothers again?” “No, we’re meeting with the commission tonight.”

“Ah. Scary,” he says, a teasing smile on his face. You have a feeling that he actually thinks that, hence why he hasn’t offered up an opportunity to show you off, even though the commission consists entirely of men.

“Will you be alright?”

You don’t know how many times you’ve internally rolled your eyes since you’ve met him. Do you have ‘I’m helpless’ tattooed on your forehead or something?

“Yep. I shouldn’t be out too late.”

“Then I won’t wait up for you.” His tone is light like he’s still making jokes but you are in no joking mood so you bite your tongue. You weren’t expecting him to, nor would you want him to do that. Your phone pings and a rush of heat floods you when you know who it is, announcing his arrival.

“Okay. I think my ride’s here, so I’m gonna head out.”

“Let me walk you.” You want to argue that it’s not necessary, the less time spent interacting with him, the better.

Play nice, Angel, Jin's voice rings in your head. Play nice.

So, you let him accompany you down the hall, help you on with your coat, and open the door for you that you politely thank him for.

In the driveway, a waxed black palisade with tinted windows is parked parallel to the main entrance, exhaust running, and your nostrils flare when you see Min Yoongi - oh, excuse you, D - standing next to the passenger's side, waiting for you with his hands clasped.

“Who’s that?”

“The security my brothers hired,” you say nonchalantly, even though there’s a burning rage in your chest.

“Huh. I thought you had an older driver.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have any security experience, so.” You notice that your fiancé seems to be somehow bothered by that information, but you don’t press it because you really don’t fucking care.

“Well, have a good-” But he interrupts you, tearing his attention away from the car you’re dreading having to ride in.

“So, my dad wants us to have dinner with them. Maybe you can make some time next weekend? He’ll want to know how things are going at the casino.”

Oh, god. That is the last thing you want to do. Jay’s parents are extremely conservative and traditional, and you can’t imagine what they’ll have to say to you now that you’re living with their son. But again, you have to play nice.

“Sure, I’ll let you know my schedule.”

“Sounds good,” he nods and just as you start to turn, he grabs your hand, the one with the oversized diamond sitting on your ring finger, his head quickly moving from the driveway to lean in and kiss right on the jewel and it makes you feel a bit icky.

“I’ll see you later,” he says from your knuckles with a noticeable grin. You plaster on a tight smile and subtly retract your hand.

“Have a good night.” He nods and lets you go, watching as you make your way down the marble stairs. You think to yourself this would be the time you might appreciate his help, considering you’re in heels and it’s freezing outside. But you don’t really want him to touch you again so you rely on the railing.

“Take care of my fiancée for me!” Jay calls out as you make it off the porch. Your eyes roll back so far in your head you have to close them and walk blindly for a few seconds. As you approach the car, you keep your head down, refusing to see how D responds to that. Although you don’t think he would, since he’s given you no indication that he even has emotions anymore as of yet.

From one man that pisses you off to the next. To say you're fuming would be an understatement.

Wearing a sleek black suit, a long winter coat to match, and, since it’s still light out, those dark sunglasses, he bows to you in greeting before opening the door, gesturing for you to get in.

"Good evening," he says as you approach, and you don’t reply, don't even look at him. You hate him, you really do, so why is it that his dark, quiet yet thunderous voice makes your heart skip a beat?

You feel his gaze on you as you reach for the back door, completely ignoring him, and slide into the warm car, slamming the door shut before scooting to sit behind the driver's side. You don’t want to be tempted to look at him in the rear-view mirror.

The passenger door closes and you whip out your phone, refusing to stare at the man swiftly striding around the front of the car. As he does, you wonder why the fuck he thought you would want to sit next to him. You’ve never felt comfortable treating your drivers like chauffeurs but this driver is a special case and you hope that he’s gotten the message.

When he gets in and shuts out the cold, you're suddenly overwhelmed by the loud, attractive scent of his cologne and aftershave, a certain musk and mint to it that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head for a split second. Fuck, he smells good, even with a hint of a cigarette. And expensive. You can only imagine the type of salary your brothers smuggle into his wallet, especially now that your safety is his sole responsibility. Protection like that doesn’t come cheap.

You dare him to say anything else, so you get out your case of earbuds with the intention to blast music and drown him out. But before you can shove them in, a stack of manila folders hangs in front of your face, held by long, thin fingers decorated by chunky silver rings, and for a second you want to ask him what the fuck he’s doing, triggered by the fact that you’re so fucking over looking through files, even more so for him to be dumping more on you.

“What’s this?” you grumble, teeth clenching as you reluctantly accept the folders and draw them into your lap.

“Your brother wanted me to find you an assistant, so these are five candidates,” he explains, voice slightly muffled by the engine and from speaking to the windshield. “Take your pick and I’ll set up an interview.”

You can’t help your genuine surprise as you look over the spread he handed you, each file neatly organized with resumes, backgrounds, references and head shots. You wish he fucked something up so you'd have an excuse to call him incompetent, but he did his homework. And if he got all of this together since last night, then he’s more diligent than you want to give him credit for.

You swallow a scoff. "I'm allowed to choose? I didn't think I got a say.”

"If you didn't, I wouldn't be giving you options."

"Are you sure?” You snark, face buried in the files. “I know you answer to my brother, and you wouldn't want to get in any trouble."

A beat passes. "He's not my boss. You are."

Well. That is... the last thing you thought he would say. And you never would've considered yourself his boss.

Oh. You're going to have fun with this.

“These are all men,” you scowl after you flip through all of the resumes.

Yeah, just what you need.

You lean forward to toss the files on the passenger's seat, papers scattering onto the floor. Your instincts urge you to apologize and offer to clean up the mess, but your pride has you sitting back with your arms crossed, looking out of the tinted window indifferently.

“You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble if you’d just asked me what I was looking for. But I guess you don’t really care what I want, do you?”

You spare a glance into the rearview mirror, the top half of his face clearly visible, but… you still can’t tell if he’s looking at you. You don’t wait for a response, not thinking there’s anything he could say anyway, and let your earbuds do the job of shutting him out.

It isn’t until you’re halfway to your destination that you realize you didn’t text him at all until an hour before you had to leave, so how could he have contacted you before that? That’s beside the point.

He should know what you’re really throwing in his face.

The car barely pulls to a stop in front of the warehouse when a small group of guards swarm around to flank the doors. Taking out your earbuds, you stare out of the tinted windows at the suited men looking all around to make sure you’re in the clear. You feel anything but assured.

One guard is standing right in front of the door, essentially blocking you inside, and D gets out, apparently needing to be the one to open it for you and assist in your exit.

The air is crisp and cold when your heels hit the gravel, and you don’t miss the way D’s palm flips up as you start to stand, playing it off when you intentionally ignore the gesture by lifting his wrist to his mouth to speak into the mic connected to his earpiece that runs under his sleeve.

You shiver when you step out and D shuts the door, holding an arm out to signal you to walk forward, pressing a finger into his earpiece. The guards fall into formation around you, one in front, one on either side, and D right behind you. This level of protection feels a bit too much as they escort you into the maze of shipping containers, you aren’t the president or some A-list celebrity, but you’re about to walk into a den of wolves, so you can’t go without a pack of your own.

They lead you through the arid warehouse, filled with shelves of boxes ready to ship out on the harbor, some legal, most illicit. In the very back is a steel door, and the leading guard opens it, takes a look down in the stairwell, and beckons you forward. You step into the hallway and catch a glimpse of the emergency exit, door wedged open by a… silver cigarette case? That looks very much like the one you saw your brother slip out of his coat the other morning and sneak outside before Jin came down for breakfast. You head for it and a guard puts a hand out to stop you, but you push past him, D calls for you, but you pay no attention and pop open the door, hesitating when Jungkook flinches and whips back his jacket, hand reaching for something in his waistband.

“Jesus, Angel,” he grumbles, letting go of his jacket to cover the handle of his gun, and takes a heavy drag of the cigarette. You bend down to pick up his silver case and the door doesn’t close and you don’t doubt that D is the one holding it open.

“Relax, it’s just lil ole me,” you say, eyebrow raising when he shoots a glare your way. "What's up, bro?"

“What was last night about?" he asks, a hot start. He leans over to snatch the case out of your hands.

“Hey!”

"Are you done being an asshole? You were pretty rude to hyung last night. And D and Hope.” His tone is testy as smoke pours from his lips.

Crossing your arms, you prop yourself on the wall with a huff and an eyeroll.

“Well, that depends. Are you done keeping things from me?” He sighs and scratches the wrinkle between his brows with his thumbnail.

“We knew you wouldn’t like it, so that’s why we waited to tell you.” “What about any of this do you think that I like?” You blurt in a raised voice that gets lost in the frigid breeze. He stares at you for a moment before looking away to take a drag, a tick in his jaw. You aren’t being fair, you know. Your brother is in the exact same boat. Neither of you signed up for this, but at least he wasn’t thrown into the fire at the last minute with little to no time to process anything. And his life isn't being guarded by someone who broke his heart.

"You can't be that way in there."

“I know. I'm sorry,” you try to recover. “It’s just-” As you stare out at the run-down docks, you can’t think of a way to explain what you’re sorry for. Instead, you swivel to face him and step up with a beckoning hand in the air.

“Can I have one?” Flicking ash on the brick, his expression changes to level you with a hesitant look.

“Since when do you smoke?” You don’t really anymore as you’ve come to hate the taste and the smell, but the kind of cigarettes that your brother buys isn’t as pungent and disgusting. Sometimes a little nicotine helps to take the edge off. And you’re very much on edge lately.

“Since I found out I’m about to become a criminal.”

He rolls his eyes. “What do you mean ‘about to’? Haven’t you been arrested before?”

“Not recently!” you exclaim. He’s one to talk! “And besides, that was for petty theft and I wasn’t even charged.”

“Don’t forget the time you spent a night in jail when you got caught speed racing. Hyung was so pissed he had to fly all the way out there to bail your dumb ass out.” Jungkook tilts forward, crossing his ankles as he chuckles out a puff of smoke.

“Well, it’s your fault I even know how to race.” He opens his mouth to argue but you shut him down. “Do you want me to go ahead and list out your rap sheet too? We would be here all night.”

“Go to hell.” You laugh at his disgruntled scowl.

“I’ll meet you there. Give me your lighter or I’ll tell Jin you started smoking again.”

He shakes his head, both of you knowing damn well that Jin would not approve of the two of you chain smoking.

“Don’t be a tattletale.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“No,” he grumbles. “You shouldn’t be smoking.”

“You shouldn’t either!”

“I know. I’m quitting soon and I'm not about to let you start.”

With a reluctant huff, you lean back against the wall, watching smoke billow out into the night sky. The both of you shiver in silence. It’s quiet out here, save for the sounds of a ship horn blaring in the distance, and the wind whistling into the alley from the docks that carries the smells of bay water and the old rotting wood of the piers. Scents like these usually bring a sense of calm into your soul, but tonight, anxiety overrides them all. You doubt even nicotine could do anything to ease the disquietude in your head.

“I’m scared,” you confess. You glance over to see him staring down at nothing in particular, not blinking as he smokes and you want him to tell you that he is too, but he’s in no position to be. Not anymore. It used to show in his jaw, in between his brows, the rapid blinking of his eyes, but there’s none of that now. Looking at him now, gone is the boy you grew up with. And you know that’s because of how hard he worked to rid himself of all that fear, just like Jin, and what you have to do too.

“There’s no reason to be.” You look away with a frown, clearly not what you needed to hear, but his hand on your shoulder forces you to turn back.

“Listen. No one can do anything to us once they find out who we are.” You shrug off his hand. He takes a drag and blows it away from your face.

“Who’s to say they won’t?”

“Me. After tonight, I own this city and everything that belongs to us. That includes you, Angel. We’re not the ones who should be afraid.”

“Boss, it’s time to go.” You glance over your shoulder where a single, flickering light above the door shines down on D’s head as he holds it open with a flattened hand. You turn back to your brother as he sucks in a final drag before dropping the butt and squishing it under his heel. Exhaling smoke up to the sky, he hooks an arm around your shoulder and begins walking you to the door, not letting you fight your way out of his hold.

“We got this, sis.” You roughly push him and he finally lets go, clicking your tongue when he laughs at your glare.

“You do,” you mutter, straightening out your coat and smoothing down your shirt. Nervous habits. He stops and grabs your elbow.

“It’s us now. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe through a scared smile.

You keep your head up as you walk past D who slides against the door to put distance between you, yet still close enough to catch another whiff of his cologne. One breath and you’re aggravated that it’s him, another breath and the scent filters into your senses, leaving an undeniable calm.

Back inside, Jungkook claps a hand on D’s shoulder as the guards return to their formation to lead you down the stairs and into the den. Before you enter, you can tell just how crowded it is from the sounds of chatter and laughter that drips exorbitant wealth, and the accompanying stench of thick illegal cigars that makes your nose itch.

Jungkook walks around you to be the first one in the room and a wave of anxiety skids your heels to a stop. A presence that you’re coming to know all too well looms behind you, like he’s your shadow. More like a demon. Your eyes close to quell the drum pounding in your chest.

“After you,” he mutters, the sinful thunder in his voice mere inches away from your ear sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes fly open and feet move on their own accord to get away from it.

Fuck. That.

The ringing in your ears that stems from his voice and low-spoken words rumbling in a loop through your mind aids you in your ability to shut out the room and the way it quiets down as you walk to the head of the table where your brothers stand in wait for you. The rest of the men are also already standing and it just makes their intense, collective stare on you that much more stifling.

You remove your coat and a hand stretches out beside you that you silently allow to take it. Jin gestures for you to sit on his right, across from Jungkook, and waves for the commission to take their seats as well. Behind you, the doors close and one glance to the side shows D getting into place with your brothers guards by the adjacent wall, holding your coat.

With a polite, reserved expression, you take a sweep of the room and observe that these men are an assortment of strange faces and ones you’ve seen in Namjoon’s files. They’re all young and old. Father and son. Leaving you as the outlier. And that causes a lump in your throat.

Jin launches into introducing you and Jungkook, and all you can do is keep your back straight and hands on the table, respectfully paying attention as he explains how now that he’s going on the lam, the family heads will defer to Jungkook, and their crews and associates will report to you for any and all financial endeavors at the casino. As Jin speaks these plans into reality, you finally begin to feel the full pressure and burden of your impending responsibilities.

And this time your brother won't be there to bail you out.

The members offer your end of the table diplomatic nods of acknowledgement and subtle darting eyes between you and Jungkook.

But just as Jin gives Jungkook the floor, a deep, condescending laugh resounds from across the table, belonging to a smug, rugged man wearing thick chains and even thicker rings. All attention snaps to his interruption and your skin crawls when he fixes Jungkook with a leering, patronizing stare.

“I’m sorry, but with all due respect, do you really think your junkie brother can handle being in charge?”

Your eyebrows cross at the audacity. He’s speaking as if Jin is not the reigning top boss of this entire room and Jungkook is not about to step in and fill his shoes. There’s a slur to his words and the near empty decanter next to his glass indicates that he’s imbibed and probably incognizant. Because who in their right mind would dare to provoke the kingpin of the city’s mob syndicate like this.

You look over to Jin, expecting him to call out the man’s blatant disrespect, but both him and Jungkook are staring the man down with darkness and anger that you’ve never seen before. Perhaps they’re just giving him the chance to dig himself into a hole so deep he’ll have to stay there.

“And what about her?” the man with a greasy mustache points at you. You recognize him. “I don’t know if I can trust her capabilities with dealing business at the casino. I mean, what does she know?”

He’s underestimating you and you’re sure he’s not alone in that. Everyone else is just smart enough to keep their mouths shut. You feel the urge to pull your hands into your lap to frown at, but you just lean back in your chair, maintaining a cool expression as you wait for him to spew more of his bullshit.

“Yeah, sure they were born with the purpose of serving your father, but we all know they weren’t raised like you. So how can they possibly be prepared to take over in your place?”

“Because they’re my blood,” Jin finally says, voice steady and reasonable. But his narrowed eyes and blown out pupils tells you he’s anything but.

“Only by half,” he sneers. “Wasn’t their mother some low-life maid?” You feel choked by the mention of your mother and wonder just how much this man and the rest of the commission know about you beyond what they’re entitled to. Your chest squeezes when you catch eyes with Jungkook as he furiously picks at his fingers, probably not realizing he’s even doing it.

“See, that’s where the don went wrong. Choosing a peasant to procreate his back-up heirs with. Their blood doesn’t really count, at least not in my book.” Lee looks around as if to see who else is on his side, but no one takes their attention off of Jin as he rises and digs a hand onto Jungkook’s shoulder.

“He is the don now.”

Lee scoffs. “He’s a junkie! Just like your father.” Your fingers clench into a tight fist, the urge to stand up for your brother sending a violent rush through your veins.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Lee,” Jin growls in a malicious tone. “You’re forgetting your place. Don’t make me remind you.”

“My place,” Lee chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. He picks up his glass and bangs it on the table with a thud. “My place should be at the head of that fucking table with my son, not these little children. We should be the next in line now that you’re resigning!” “I’m not resigning,” Jin barks, fixing the entire room with a dead serious glare. “I’m leaving to avoid prison. Because if I go down, I’m taking everyone with me. Do I make myself fucking clear?”

Jin’s power reverberates off of the walls and it carves away some of your anxiety. He points a stern finger at Lee.

“They are the rightful heirs, just as I am, and I won’t throw away all of what I’ve built just because you don’t accept that.”

“What your father built,” Lee spits in contempt. Jin bends down with a heavy slam of his hands on the wood surface. “What my family built. And what my brother and sister will continue to build because it’s theirs now.” “Do they know that’s the only reason why they were born? Well, him at least.” Your face contorts in confusion when he points at Jungkook. Jin lifts his hands from the table and the tension in the room grows thicker as he stands tall. “Excuse me?” “It’s a fair question. Does she know that when there were rumors that Don Kim had a daughter, he adamantly denied it?”

Your heart pounds in your ears when Lee slides his beady eyes to you, fingernails digging into your sweaty palms.

“You were a mistake, sweetheart,” he lilts with an ugly, crooked grin. “What use would he have with a girl? All you’re good for now is playing trophy wife to appease the son of your father’s biggest investor. You’re just a pawn in his business plan, you have no real value.”

“Lee, that’s enough-” Jin snarls.

“Lee Dong-wook, right?” you starkly interject, staring unwaveringly at him and his rising eyebrow. “Didn’t you lose your business in the east harbors when you failed to keep quota and you couldn’t control disputes between the local gangs? I can’t remember exactly how much money and how many men you cost my brothers but I know it was a lot.”

Lee’s jaw drops, rendered speechless. A raging vein begins to bulge on the side of his forehead, turning his face beet red now that you’re doing the job of tearing him down from his high horse.

“But at least you still have this side of the harbor so you can trade paraphernalia with other parts of the coast. Like these.” You reach forward for a box of cigars in front of Jungkook, only to find it empty. To your surprise and everyone else's, you stand and move to pass behind your brothers, ignoring Jin’s hushed, “What are you doing?” as you walk over to Lee, hoping to exert some intimidation by standing your ground over him. You try to disregard the fact that he is twice your size and far more muscular but Jungkook’s words from earlier remind you that no one can hurt you now. The shadow that follows you will ensure that.

You spot another cigar box next to Lee and another older man, and no one says anything as you lean in between them to take one out, snatching up one of the lighters as well. Holding up the cigar beneath your nose, you inhale the strong flavored mix of coffee and leather.

“Hmm, not bad,” you reflect, analyzing the stamped label before you unravel the plastic. “Kind of cheap, but I guess the tobacco isn’t what your customers are actually after. It’s smart, smuggling amphetamines in these. Just ironic that you move rock for a living but have the nerve to call my brother a junkie. I don't doubt you take samples.”

The wrapper you crumple and the lighter you flick open to fire up the cigar become the only sounds in the room. After disposing of the metal and plastic on the table, you place the wrapped leaf between your teeth and brace yourself as you take a smooth drag.

“And you must be stupid if you think I don’t know that my father didn’t want me,” you say, blowing smoke up to the ceiling while you do your best to pretend that the strong hit isn’t scratching the hell out of your throat. You glance back down to Lee whose eyes are on the brink of bulging right out of their sockets.

“But you see, I’m not here for him. I’m here for them,” you point the cigar over your shoulder at Jin and Jungkook.

“You sure they’re not forcing you?” Lee challenges, tongue thick with rage causing specks of saliva to catch on his mustache. Gross. “No one can force me to do anything,” you reply calmly. “I’ll do whatever it takes for my brothers.” A moment passes, and then another, with no response and you think you’ve made your case. But just as you’re about to give up the facade that you’re enjoying this piss-awful cigar, Lee harshly gruffs out, “Would you kill for them, little girl?”

Tilting your head, your mind races as you imagine all the ways you could show him how far you’re willing to go for both of them. A small smile creeps onto the corner of your lips around the cigar.

“Do you want to find out?” His mustache twitches. You blow smoke in its direction. “Are you threatening me?” “You tell me,” you shrug. “If anything, I’d be doing you a favor.”

“Pardon?” You lazily tap the cigar, unphased when the ash falls to the floor, some of it on Lee’s lap, earning a menacing glower.

“It sounds like you have a death wish. Coming in here and disrespecting my brothers even though you can’t do a goddamn thing without their say so. They own you and, now, so do I.”

Lee doesn’t break your stare but by the curl of his fist on the arm of the chair and his cheeks that tinge an even darker red, you’ve severely pissed him off. “You don’t have what it takes to kill me.” Taking that as a challenge, you reach down, lift the hem of your slacks, and snatch out the knife nestled in the strap around your calf. In a flash, you bring your sharp silver blade to the vein on his thick neck, smoke from the cigar dangerously close to his sideburns. “Wanna bet?”

A commotion erupts around you as one of Lee’s men move to defend him at a moment’s notice, weapon threatening to withdraw and your pulse glitches for a second at the potential danger. That is until a figure behind you pushes away Lee’s guard and you know without looking that it’s Jungkook coming to your aid. And next to him is that dark and menacing man smelling of mint and musk and intimidation.

“Well, I bet you’d hate to get killed by a girl. So I’ll save you your dignity.”

Lowering your knife, you lean away but pause when a goading sneer grows on his ugly mug.

“You’re weak. Just like your brother who can’t even man up and take responsibility for the casino because of what happened to his little-” Before he can finish that sentence that would have Jungkook flying off the handle, you stab the burning end of your cigar on the back of his hand, twisting a sear into his skin until he leaps up with a shriek.

“You bitch!” The cigar plants itself on the side of his neck, until your wrist is grabbed and ripped away, tobacco falling to the floor, just like the man who dared to put hands on you. As you’re pulled back by your brother, off to the side is D manhandling Lee’s guard into submission, face pressed into the wall with a gun shoved into the side of his head. Your brothers’ guards surround you and there’s a standoff with Lee’s men, the rest of the room watching on in shock, no one else daring to move lest they get caught in impending crossfire.

“Weapons down, now,” Jin’s terse voice booms. The guns slowly lower but the fierce glares remain pinned on opposite sides.

“Lee. You’re dismissed.” You think that’s code for, I’m not going to kill you in front of my sister. You’re positive if you weren’t present, this night would’ve ended in bloodshed.

“Have fun getting whacked,” you grin devilishly at Lee who can’t decide which burn hurts worse. “I hope your last thought is of my pretty face.”

In brazen stupidity, Lee steps forward but before his foot can even touch the ground, he’s sent flying back with your brother’s fists in his collar. A hand on your elbow tugs you away from the chaos you created, but you can’t look away from it, like it’s a car crash. But D steps in front of you just as you’re dragged to the front of the room by your brother. Your coat is swung around your shoulders and suddenly you’re facing Jin who guides you to the door. D appears right by your side.

“I knew you had it in you, kiddo,” Jin says with a proud glint in his eyes. On the other side of the room, your brother’s guards are doing their best to keep Jungkook and Lee apart as they usher him to the exit.

“D, take her home.”

The backseat of the car is warm on the ride home. Your hands are shaking, surely from the adrenaline. That’s when it hits you, what you just did. Fuck. You’ve never acted that way before, never purposely hurt someone because you didn’t like what they said.

But you liked it. The power you had, the confidence it gave you. And that scares you.

“Are you okay?” D asks tentatively. It’s then that you realize you’ve been crying. You flick a defiant tear from your cheek and wrap your arms tighter around yourself.

“What do you care?” you mumble bitterly. The rest of the drive is spent in silence. If you were sitting up front, you would’ve seen the way his fingers flexed on the steering wheel.

When he pulls up to your house, you quickly get out even though he starts to say something, desperate to be inside, away from him and the cold and everything that happened.

You don’t know why your office has become your safe haven, but you return there and collapse into one of the armchairs, weighed down by tonight, and what’s in store. Not to mention the extra weight added on your chest because of D.

So you cry. You cry until you run out of tears, but you don't think that could stop you with how much you're hurting. That is until you hear a knock on your office door. It startles you, you’ve never expected anyone to check on you, especially not your fiancé. Were you crying so loud that he could hear you all the way across the house? You don't think that much of it, too busy getting a hold of yourself to look presentable before cracking open the door.

His face is overshadowed by the hallway light, and you can't see his eyes that well. You try to hide your swollen, tear-streaked cheeks from him, but he peers over the door with a small yet gentle smile.

"What's wrong? Did things not go well with the commission?”

You quickly wipe away any stray tears, putting on a brave face as you open the door a little further.

"Ah, well. It was just a lot, y’know?” You scramble, because you can't actually tell him what's wrong. Obviously. You don't think you'll ever be able to tell anyone. And you definitely don’t want to admit that you’re being weak.

"I do. Everything will be okay. It'll all take some adjustment." Huh. That's... comforting, coming from him. Like he understands.

"So, I was just in the kitchen, raiding the pantries for some snacks. Would you care to join?"

“Sure. You, uh,” you tug your sleeves over your hands, clenching them with cold fingers. “You couldn’t hear me from all the way out there, right?”

He turns his back to you with a laugh, leading you down the hallway.

“No, but I noticed you came home late and, well, I just wanted to see how things went. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me.”

“You said you wouldn’t wait up.” “I was joking, but I guess it didn’t land well. You might have to get used to my sense of humor.” That was humor?

Damn. When did you get so mean?

On the island counters in the expansive kitchen, he sets out some bowls and fills them with snacks as you take a seat on one of the tall stools.

“Do you like any of these?” “Sure,” you shrug, reaching for one of the bowls.

“If there’s anything you want, put it on a list and I can send it off to be picked up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can do my own shopping. Thanks, though.” You’ll have to text your brothers later to tell them how right you are about him.

“Alright, well let me know if you change your mind. I’m just trying to help out.”

You nod, chewing pensively, and he shakes his head to change the subject.

“Anyway, can you tell me what happened tonight? That made you so upset.”

You carefully retell bits and pieces of the meeting, leaving out the part when you stabbed an old man twice with a cigar. You give him the gist of how the family heads don’t entirely back the idea of you and Jungkook gaining control of the syndicate, to which Jay tells you they’ll have to get over it because you’re just doing your family duty.

For a while, you chat, finding that conversation with your fiance comes a little easier than you thought. You guess you just had to give it a chance. He gives you his support for some of the plans you have for the casino renovations and even offers to take a look at the blueprints. He cracks corny jokes every now and then that you have to force a bit of laughter because sometimes they don’t make sense, but you don’t entirely loathe this whole interaction.

He is very charming; you'll give him that. But you still have a prickly feeling that it’s all just an act to be good to you in order to impress your brothers and get on their good side. And once they’re out of sight, no longer around to look out for you, he’ll show his true colors. Maybe you’re just jaded and bitter.

But you don’t think you should let your guard down just yet.

You won’t make the same mistake again.

lmaoooo originally i was aiming for a 12-14k word count. whoops. but it's finally here! this has been a whirlwind. I've been wanting to get this out for a while but i've been kind of nervous about it. honestly im glad i waited because so many things came together for this part that i didn't have before. sorry for the wait.

xxx - claret

thank you for reading 😊

let me know what you think!!! <333

masterlist

taglist:

@viankiss @taegijns @polarnightmyg @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos

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lo1k-diamonds · 2 months ago

Text

Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 1

“What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”

PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader

SUMMARY: Yoongi has been in the police force for long enough to know that the system isn’t perfect, so when an injustice is about to put his protégé in jail, he has no other choice but to go to you. You’re the devil, but you’re hard to resist, and he needs to decide between falling into temptation or showing you that two can play the game.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: corruption, power dynamics, blackmail, threats w/ a knife, slight degradation, sexual favors, oral (f rec)

A.N. I'm soooo excited, this fic is 🔥 Infinite thank yous to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for working through my crazy and being incredible! Enjoy 🔥🔥

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | Next Chapter >

Yoongi huffed and threw his eyeglasses onto the keyboard, rubbing his eyes so roughly he saw lights. It was no use; no matter how much he went over the evidence, again and again, he couldn’t change it.

“Hyung.”

He uncovered his eyes, only to be met with Taehyung’s sadness. His shoulders sagged from the sleepless nights ever since Jimin had gotten arrested, with dark circles bringing even more desolation to his otherwise heavenly features. He knew it wasn’t Taehyung’s intention, but the sight only unnerved Yoongi even more.

“Go home, get some sleep.”

Taehyung flinched, “But—”

“That’s an order, Officer.”

Taehyung stiffened and instantly bowed and showed his respects to his Superintendent before turning and leaving. Only then did Yoongi heave a deep breath and observe around him. It was weird seeing his department at the police station empty, without the officers at their desks taking calls or doing paperwork while on one of their 24-hour shifts. But they had all been shaken up, and so he had sent them home.

He was proud of his Division, and as their Chief, he couldn’t be more certain of everyone’s conduct and character. This included Jimin’s, and it was the reason why he was losing his mind over this case.

No matter how much he reviewed the footage and evidence, there was no mistake — Officer Jimin had seemingly shot his partner dead during an arrest gone wrong. This was a natural conclusion, judging by the body camera of the now deceased cop, Officer Junghee, that had captured Jimin nearing him with a fuming pistol in his hand. One that matched the ballistics report on Yoongi’s desk.

This was why the prosecution wanted to charge him with manslaughter at the very least, but Yoongi could not be convinced. The body camera also captured the panic in Officer Jimin’s voice and expression as he tried to save his downed partner. Yoongi didn’t care if that was Jimin’s gun or if it was fuming in his hand — he didn’t believe it.

“It wasn’t me!” The words Jimin shouted as he was arrested conveyed an absolute world of hurt and combined with the shock in Jimin’s eyes was seared into Yoongi’s retinas, causing him to dig the heel of his hands into his eyes again. But no matter how much he attempted to change the image, it wouldn’t. Jimin, his protégé, was still being handcuffed and taken away while begging, “I didn’t, you have to believe me! He put it in my hands! Hyung!”

Yoongi nudged his eyeglasses off the keyboard, locked his computer, and grabbed his coat. On long nights like these, he didn’t bother staying in uniform, only wearing black pants with a white shirt and his badge and holster belt. He made his way outside and got into his car, acknowledging whoever he met along the way. Temperatures were freezing, and his car didn’t start immediately. He reached for his nicotine gum while he waited for the car to warm up. When it finally started, so did the 3 AM news on the radio right as he left the parking lot.

“In a shocking revelation, an officer from the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency shot his partner dead after pulling up to a suspicious vehicle in Dongjak District. The mounting evidence is undeniable, and the prosecution is discussing the potential penalty in such a case, with the spokesperson revealing in a press conference that while mistakes happen, justice needs to be served.”

Yoongi kept chewing and driving as the prosecutor’s voice echoed through the speakers. On the outside, Yoongi was the picture of calm, cool, and collected, but inside, he was fuming. He had spoken with the prosecutor many times, who preferred a clean-cut arrest to build his case to run for whatever political role he was after rather than fight for justice, as he claimed. Yoongi had always known that multiple interests abound in the justice system, but now he was starting to get pissed.

When he parked the car, he looked outside through the windshield, observing quietly as the people moved in and out of the Aether. The bouncers kept drunks at bay, and despite the booming music and the flashy lights, everything looked normal for a nightclub.

He removed his belt and badge, shoving them in the glove compartment so hard that something fell out. He reached to grab it from the floor, his frown instantly turning into a scowl. It was a photo of him hugging a woman, laughing, taken many years ago when they were still happy. When they were not even married yet, let alone divorced.

He got out of the car and ripped the photo into as many tiny pieces as possible, dropping the scraps in a trashcan along with his gum. Then he stopped in front of the bouncers with his hands in his pockets, saying six little special words.

“I want to see the boss.”

The first bouncer just scoffed a laugh and shook his head, but the second one eyed him from head to toe, “If you’re here to inspect, then you have to identify yourself first.”

“Not an inspection,” Yoongi said nonchalantly, glancing around. “It’s not an official visit.”

The smirking bouncer kept the flow of the people going in and out while the serious one, resembling the first almost to a T, pressed his earpiece further into his ear, waiting for orders. Yoongi had noticed the cameras already while he was walking up, and he wondered how long it would take for them to know exactly who he was and why he was there.

The serious bouncer moved closer to him, “Are you armed?”

“No.”

“I have to make sure.”

Yoongi glanced at him, then nodded, raising his hands as he let the man make sure he was unarmed. When the tall man rose from his knees after checking Yoongi’s ankles, he lowered his arms and waited for the goon to catch his breath.

“Alright, you can go in.”

He moved past the bouncers and into the entryway, but he hadn’t even made it to the coat check when someone approached him. Just by the light clothing, styled hair, and badge hanging on his belt, Yoongi could immediately tell that the man worked there.

“Follow me.”

Yoongi wasn’t there to sightsee, but he could appreciate the columns and marble structures and statues. Along with the paintings, velvet curtains, and carpets, it made the Aether look like a temple or divine abode of the Gods. The aesthetic intensified as they went up the stairs, but he didn’t have time to register much. In a second, he was walking into what appeared like an ordinary office — a pleasant space with a large desk at the center in front of huge dark windows that showed the lights flashing from the dance floor. He ignored the liquor table, the cabinets with files, and the black velvet sofas to the side. What his eyes were immediately drawn to was you — you who had pushed the large computer screen to the side so you could watch him come in. Your chin rested graciously on your intertwined fingers, with your elbows on the desk, eyes flickering with amusement, watching him through dark curled lashes. He hadn’t even noticed he had walked to your desk or that the door had closed behind him, but then you stood up, letting your delicate arms fall alongside your tight black dress. Your black, straight hair slid over your shoulders, framing the plunging cleavage of your dress, and when you smiled, he felt hot—molten hot.

“Welcome, Superintendent,” you smiled with a glint of amusement, your perfect teeth shining in the overhead light, and he clenched his fists behind his back. “Or should I say Yoongi? I was told you weren’t here in an official capacity, but…” You eyed him from head to toe, and he did his best to stay poised and calm. “You don’t look like you’re here to club.”

Yoongi was already sweating, not out of nervousness but because of you. Because you always eyed him like you owned him, always had a hint of mischief to every smile, and were always as elusive as a ghost. One he couldn’t catch and had grown tired of running after.

Still, hearing his name in your mouth for the first time… made him pull on the collar of his shirt, “Not here to party; I’m here on business.”

Your eyebrow twitched, and he looked at you seriously; you were a cunning fox of the worst kind. Worse than a weed, than a pest, than the bloody smoke still hanging in the air and making his fingers twitch. He had a simple goal, and he had to stay focused.

“Not an official visit, but you’re here on business…” you mused out loud then shrugged. “Soon, it will be four in the morning,” you revealed with a hint of disdain as you neared the table that held liquor in crystal decanters. “Surely, if you wanted to do something official, you’d wait at least three more hours?” You chuckled as you poured a finger of whiskey into a glass. “Want some?” He shook his head, and you shrugged again. You made your way back to your desk, but instead of going around it, you perched on the side of it, close enough for him to see your dress parting, giving hints of your upper thighs, “What can I do for you, Chief?”

Yoongi had nerves of steel; he ignored the lush skin of your thighs, the cleavage, the numbing sound reverberating through the walls, the dimmed lights, and the way your eyes seemed to challenge him with every blink.

He focused, “I want your help.”

Your eyes widened comically, the image of innocence and confusion, “Mine? What could such a powerful person need from me?”

Thankfully, your coy attitude irritated him and helped him concentrate. “I know the suspicious car they were chasing was one of yours.”

Your eyes widened even more, but this time, you brought your glass to your lips to hide a smile, “My, my, Officer. I know I have many cars, but to say I was a fugitive—”

“You know what I mean,” his jaw clenched, and you licked your lips.

“I don’t,” you could only smile, and he clenched his fists again. There it was. It pissed the fuck out of him. “Are you going to arrest me, Chief? Make good use of those deduction skills of yours and put pretty handcuffs around my wrists?”

He hated that his heart jumped in his chest as you whispered salaciously and leaned into him, shortening the distance between you. He hated how tempting you looked, and he hated the way your eyes fixed on his, as if you were ready to follow suit with your provocation. You were probably a tease like that with everyone all the time. It pissed him off even more.

He only blinked, ever the master of showing a relaxed demeanor, “I have no evidence to arrest you, nor am I here in that capacity.”

It instantly hit him, as you straightened your back and finished the drink in your hand, that he was going to have to ask for your help. Not outsmart you, not convince you, not squabble with half facts and hunches — he needed your help and that meant he had to come down off his pedestal.

“My— An officer from my team will be sentenced for something he didn’t do. I’m out of options; I’ve hit a dead-end.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you put down the empty glass, “Don’t tell me — the system he holds and protects with his life won’t even try to prove his innocence.”

His jaw clenched; he hated that you weren’t completely wrong. “I’m trying to prove his innocence.”

The corners of your mouth twitched in a smile. “What makes you think I can help?”

He kept his mouth closed for a thoughtful moment. There was no use in accusing you again. Your smile wasn’t sly, so he decided to go for it. “You’re one of the biggest players.”

“Me?” You acted surprised, “I just own a few businesses here and there…”

“They say you’re the one to contact for information.” You tilted your head, and he insisted, “Even if that wasn’t your car, you’d know about it because it was on your turf. You’re you. I just know you know something that can help us solve this.”

That answer seemed to satisfy you because your lips and eyes revealed a small yet genuine smile that caught his breath. It made him realize he was leaning towards you now, exposing himself like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. Not when you looked at him like that, feeding into his hope.

“Say I do,” you started, eyes fixed on his. “Say I have evidence that could exonerate Officer Park.” He snapped straight; he had never told you the name of the Officer, and the media didn’t know it either. Yet what got him were your words, “Why would I help you?”

He clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth clicked. He just about growled with the way irritation mixed with his desperation, making him reel.

“Come on, Chief. Talk to me,” you pressed, wanting him to push through both the shock and the stick up his ass. “You must be desperate enough if you’re asking for my help, and I’m not denying it. I’m saying I might have what you need. What would you do to save an innocent from prison for life or worse?”

He didn’t think, “You have it? Something that could undeniably prove his innocence?”

He knew before he was done asking that it was impossible and that he was acting crazy. Yet, you leaned into him, meeting him halfway, your breath hitting his chin, “In those exact words? I do.” You sat back and let your words sink in, not knowing they gave him a full-body shudder. He always knew you were powerful and had your ways, but holy shit— “What do you have that I want?”

He opened his mouth but instantly closed it. Objectively, he had nothing. But maybe there was something he could do. First, though, he needed to know it was real. “What evidence do you have? Show it to me—”

“Hmmm, no,” you pressed your lips and twisted your nose, displeased. “That’s not how this works. This is based on trust. Besides, you don’t seem to have anything to offer.”

For a split second, he wondered if you were bullshitting him, but he honestly didn’t care. He had to do something. “You want something concrete for a maybe?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” your tone hardened as your expression lost humor.

“Alright, name it. Tell me what is worth your help.”

His tone was soft, and it worked to soothe you. His dark eyes helped; there was so much willingness in them, and you liked that. The man there asking for your help to correct an injustice was the kind of man you were looking for.

“Since you asked,” you cheekily started, pulling your hair behind your shoulders. “I want three things.” He didn’t even blink, so you continued, “The first is a favor. Of my choice and at my discretion whenever I shall need it. The second is for you to get on your knees. And the third is for you to eat.”

He blinked, “What?” He looked down to follow your hands over your thighs, and you spread your legs for him, though the black dress covered between them. He shook his head in bewilderment, “You’re crazy!”

“Crazy?” You chuckled, “I think I’m being quite reasonable.”

“You— Do you hear what you’re asking?”

He sounded breathless and could feel the heat on his cheeks, which was not ideal. He almost managed to step back, but a quirk of your eyebrow kept him still — he needed that evidence.

“Oh my, Chief Min. Are you getting heated at the thought of a couple of favors?” He scoffed, and you continued your tease, “Or is it the knees? Too proud to beg?”

“No, not too proud,” he mumbled between teeth. He was ready to kneel on the floor and beg, and the heat rising in his neck told him the rest wasn’t a problem either. And that was the problem. “The favor—” He cleared his throat, scratching it, “What is the favor?”

“I don’t know yet,” you shrugged, and it seemed to him like it didn’t matter. He knew that couldn’t be true, that had to be what you were really after — something specific from the Superintendent of the Seoul Metropolitan Police. And yet your eyes were shining in such a way that he almost forgot who you were. Almost.

“Something illegal, no doubt.”

You sighed and he took the moment to let the anger cool him — you were a criminal about to use his good intentions to surely accomplish something even worse. Instead of cooling him, irritation made him snap his knuckles and shift on his feet.

“I don’t know what it is, but it shouldn’t matter,” you said more coldly, squinting your eyes. “What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”

There was a hint of impatience in your tone that only riled him up more. He turned to you, “What’s stopping me from just—”

“You’re not that stupid,” you interrupted, raising your chin. His eyes noticed the surveillance cameras and you smirked, “They’re not who you should be concerned about.”

Your smile was predatory but he scoffed. You didn’t need to threaten him, and he didn’t like the coercion. He refused to look at you for a moment, giving you the impression that he was weighing his options. In reality, he was figuring out what angered him more — the fact that he was about to make a deal with a devil like you, or that he was that turned on from it.

You huffed and got off the desk, your heels clicking on the floor like a timer had just gone off. “Never mind—”

He grabbed your arm to keep you from walking away, and in a second, something sharp was poking his lower stomach. You both froze in place, your gaze angry and fixed on his, while his heart raced inside his chest. He didn’t let go of your arm, and you didn’t lower your knife.

“I never heard a yes from those pretty lips, so…” you spoke quietly, then pressed the blade harder. “Hands off.”

He knew you could put your money where your mouth was, and that if you wanted to kill him and get rid of him, you would. Yet, his grip didn’t lessen as he observed you. He was still trying to figure things out — not what to do, but you. He hated you objectively; you represented everything wrong with the world. Jimin was innocent; you shouldn’t be bargaining for his life, you should do the right thing. But you weren’t, you wanted to play with fire. Maybe even to get burned.

“What is it…” he started quietly, still eying your angry eyes. “Is it the risk? The humiliation? The footage for blackmailing me later? The power over a figure of authority?”

You scoffed, leaning in to answer just as quietly, “No risk, Chief. The footage might be insurance, but you’re a man of your word. No power over you because you’ll be doing it willingly. And no humiliation,” you chuckled. “It’s a privilege to eat at this table. Although…” You looked down, then smirked. “I can play if that’s what you like.”

He looked away from your eyes for the first time and almost flinched; his pants had a tent. He couldn’t even think; why was his body betraying him like this? He tried pulling away and letting you go, but you pressed the tip of your knife harder.

“Nuh-uh,” you whispered, taking a deep breath a little closer to his neck. “I heard the missus left cause you couldn’t get it up, but won’t you look at that—” Your tone was sly, and he gripped your arm harder in retaliation. You laughed, “I guess she just didn’t know how to play. Or maybe you like this,” your voice lowered wantonly, and a shiver ran up his spine as though he was starting to attune to it. “Like not having a choice, to be in danger, to be forced to do something reprehensible.”

He had to lick his lips because for a second he thought he was drooling, “I have a choice.”

You smiled and his cock twitched, “Then choose.”

He eyed your smile and leaned into you, but you chuckled and playfully pressed the tip of the knife to impose distance, ignoring the red droplets tainting the fabric.

“On your knees, Chief.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he pulled you by the arm, disregarding the blade, so you’d walk back until the back of your thighs hit the desk. Then, he gripped your hips and helped you on the desk, fisting your dress in the same movement to get it out of the way as he kneeled between your legs. Your knife had slipped from your hand as you rested them on the desk for support, and you didn’t think to pick it back up. You wanted him to eat you and mean it, but he was going above and beyond — nuzzling your thighs and inhaling your scent, frantically fighting with your dress, and trying to pry your legs further apart so he could have access.

When his nose poked your clit, you jumped in place, and his fingers dug into your hips, even through the fabric of the dress. Just looking at the way he was fighting to get his mouth on you was positively melting you, but you wanted it to actually happen.

“Slide them down,” you breathed after he nuzzled and licked your core through your panties enough times to cover you with goosebumps.

He immediately obliged, and you shimmied to help him get rid of them. He threw them on the floor, then gripped your legs apart before giving you a look that seared you in place. You didn’t know what it was, but you were living for it, and the excitement burned your gut. The Superintendent looked like a piece of forbidden heaven between your thighs; who knew he’d have you melting like this just at the hint of doing what you asked?

A smirk spread on your lips as he kept struggling with your dress, until suddenly — rip. He bunched the fabric and pulled it, causing the slit that revealed your thigh to rip, and you chuckled. You liked that energy, that hunger; the way he was willing to destroy to have his way. Instantly, he had free leeway to uncover your core and press his mouth, rolling his tongue all over your slick folds.

You jolted with a sigh, gripping his hair at the back of his head. The more he laved his tongue over your slit to taste you, the more you had the urge to move, but you stayed still. With your eyes closed, you enjoyed every second of his discovery, from his licks to his tasting and humming. You heaved the breath you were holding when he nibbled your heat right before finding your clit to suckle, and your voice finally came out. You could almost laugh at how easily he had found his way, but your mind wasn’t there. While he found his rhythm, you guided him with expressive sighs, grazing your acrylic nails over his scalp without ever forcing him. You wouldn’t; his hunger was part of the power trip. Chief Min would eat you, give you what you wanted, and service you because you had that much power. You could bring someone like him to his knees. He liked it.

You suddenly pulled on his hair so he’d look up at you, and he did, not even bothering with a quizzical look. You bit your lip to stop a smile and relented your grip, and he looked down for a second. It was all it took for him to get back to it, and you let your head fall back with a sigh — case in point.

“The things you do for duty, Chief…”

His tongue kept laving over you as if you were desert, focused, regardless of your taunt. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten where he was or why because his hands started gently exploring your spread thighs. His fingers pressed to your curves and didn’t stop even when he felt the garter that held the knife you had used on him. Instead, he pulled on it, making it snap against your thigh, ripping a stronger moan from you.

It was then he realized you needed something stronger, so he pressed his face harder against your cunt, latched onto your clit, and started rutting into you. You were surprised but instantly melted, and your fingers curved around his hair. The grind of his lips pressing into you while his mouth held the suction was already maddening, but the thrumming of his tongue on your clit was the cherry on top. You didn’t have time to make it a challenge, or maybe you didn’t want to; his rhythm was perfect against your heat, and you moaned when it intensified. The strumming was precise and maddening, each tap firm and steady, giving you enough time to despair for the next one and moan when it came, leaving you to anticipate what would come next.

Your hips started moving on their own, and that was when you knew you had let go. There was no point in pretending he wasn’t doing it just like you wanted, or that you weren’t rolling into his face to feel him harder, forcing him to dig his long fingers into the flesh of your hips as he drank the slick melting out of you. The very sounds of his humming and licking drove the blood to your cheeks and emboldened your hips, messily humping against his mouth. You could feel the edge right before you, and every time you ground on his mouth, you thought that would be it.

“Fuck,” you groaned between teeth, looking down to find burning brown eyes drinking you more greedily than his hot mouth. He wasn’t stopping you or holding you back, he was letting you fuck his mouth however you wanted, and it popped you.

You let your head fall back and pressed his face to your cunt, your moans pitching higher when he sucked harder, as if to pull all the pleasure out of you like it was venom. He rode your climax with you, gripping your trembling legs around him as though he wished you’d smother him, and finally, you looked down. Your walls were still throbbing in the aftershocks when he dragged his tongue across you slowly, and you groaned through a smirk, then pulled him away by the hair.

“Easy there,” you smiled and let your legs down.

You quickly pulled your dress down to cover you again while your other hand raked through your long hair, putting it in place. He rose slowly to his feet with his eyes on you, and you didn’t even try hiding your heaving chest; he could see it well with such an observant gaze. His eyes were so intense that you shuddered and bit your lip, but avoiding them only landed your own on his evident arousal, and you smirked.

Looking up, for a moment, your taunt got caught in your throat. Min Yoongi looked the absolute best covered in your cum from nose to chin — deliciously ravenous.

You licked your lips, raising your hand to his face but stopping before you touched him. He mimicked you, his pink tongue collecting your slick over his lips while he focused on yours. Still, when your hand moved down, so did his eyes. You smirked, dodging his erection at the last second to hide your hand under your dress.

You hummed, closing your eyes as your fingers collected your wetness mixed with his saliva, and then brought them straight to your mouth. You licked them first, tasting what he did before putting them in your mouth and sucking.

You clenched, knitting your eyebrows as you realized how turned on you were. You were throbbing and craving something to push into you and fuck you senseless, and opening your eyes, you saw the same urge staring right back at you.

Your fingers left your mouth with a pop, and then you smiled, shaking your head, “Should have asked for a good fuck too.”

His dark eyes stayed on yours for a moment, and even when he wiped his chin with the back of his hand, they remained on yours. It was almost a taunt, and you grinned; you loved a good challenge, and even more the kind of fucking that lustful gaze promised. But you knew the worth of asking, and you were not going to come out losing.

“Maybe next time.”

201 notes · View notes

pennyellee · 5 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐗 - 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐚

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.

warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, mentions of antidepressants, anxiety, panic attacks, nightmares, mentions of night terrors, mentions of self harm, manipulative behaviour, mentions of labotomy, medical cases, intimate life, diseases, “failed” pregnancy, alcohol, medication, etc.

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 8,7K

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.

A/N: so yes, it took me a while to actually finish this chapter and as I mentioned - it’s shorter than what I usually want to write for lacrimosa. Truth to be told, this is what I can do for now till I get something better to write on. I don’t know when the next chapter will be written and up, so for now thank you for your patience, i actually didnt think i would write a chapter whilst im in US coz the only device on my person is my phone, but im very happy I managed to write something. This chapter is more of a prequel go what’s going to happen next. Many of you actually guessed/predicted some things right and for some you have to wait till the very end, we’re near it.

Massive thank you goes to @chaoticpuff17 who managed to beta read it despite both our situations being crazy rn, ily queen 🥹🫧🩵

Love you all, p.

m.list previous next

lacuna (n.) a blank space, missing part

The night was relentless, a symphony of thunderclaps and the steady drum of rain against the cobblestones. The celebrations of the famous Kkangpae toned down, and after some months, several trips to the barren debris land of where Yakuza reigned, they returned safely to the sanctuary.

Back where she cannot hide from him in the stables, kitchen or sunroom, switching from one room to another just to not be in his presence for longer than she wanted. Yet, he managed to steal her away when his frustration boiled up enough. Y/N could’ve hinted how much she doesn’t want him to sleep next to her all she wants, he kept sneaking in and out every time. Yoongi was patient, determined even. Determined to make things right this time by giving her space. But the wrenching feeling of not having her close enough consumed him, night, day and moon.

Yoongi kept his promise, giving Y/N the space she needed while gradually attempting to rebuild the trust that had been shattered. He was careful with his words, patient in his actions, and ever attentive to her unspoken needs. The pair worked on their friendship these past weeks, he wanted himself to be her person. The person that she would love and lean on.

But the young Buin might seem calm now, from outside, but her wit remained under the surface. She buried herself deep within her psyche and doctor Kim could do very little to “repair” her. Not even renown specialists who came to give the young girl a helping hand did not succeed.

Yoongi watched her from a distance yet at the same time he was so close, his heart aching with the knowledge that he was partly to blame for her withdrawal. He had been too harsh, too controlling. Now, he was paying the price. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, to whisper apologies and promises into her ear. But every time he approached, he could see the fear and distrust in her eyes. It was a barrier he didn't know how to break.

Wang Xiaoqing’s wisdom was passed onto her, they whispered. But truth to be told, the elder woman, may she rest in peace, underestimated the new blood. The following legacy. Now, her kin suffers.

Yoongi wishes he never used the letter as leverage against her nor let her read it. At night he wonders whether that would change things. Whether by now she would be in love with him just as much he’s in love with her.

He sat down with the rest of his family at the dinner table after she broke down with yet another panic attack. The dining room was oppressively silent, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension. It wasn’t even the end of January, and the snow was still prevailing outside. Yoongi sat at the head of the table, his expression a mask of stoic resolve, though his heart was anything but calm.

Y/N was conspicuously absent, her chair at the table glaringly empty. Yoongi's mind replayed the scene from earlier, the look of sheer panic in her eyes as she had crumbled under the weight of her emotions. He had wanted to reach out to her, to offer comfort, but he knew his presence would only worsen her distress.

Clearing his throat, Yoongi broke the silence, his voice strained but firm.

“I know you care about me. About this family—”

“I’ve made mistakes—mistakes that have pushed her to the edge.”

“No, Yoongi—” the right hand man straightened himself in his seat interrupting his leader.

Yoongi’s eyes flickered with a mixture of frustration and sorrow as he turned to face his right-hand man, Namjoon. The room held its breath, tension crackling in the air.

“Namjoon, please,” Yoongi said, his voice weary. “My wife slit her throat, stop justifying my actions.”

Namjoon hesitated but nodded, leaning back in his chair, his expression still troubled. Yoongi took a deep breath, steeling himself to continue.

"I pushed her too far, and now she's breaking—”

“Now, I don’t know what your intentions are with my wife, but I forbid you from whatever you are putting into her head.”

Namjoon's eyes widened in shock at Yoongi's words, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right response. The weight of Yoongi's accusation hung heavy in the air, and the room seemed to grow even quieter, the tension palpable.

Yoongi's jaw clenched, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. He had always trusted Namjoon implicitly, had relied on him as his closest confidant and advisor. But now, in the wake of Y/N's pain and suffering, he couldn't help but wonder if that trust had been misplaced.

“All of you.”

“Yoongi, I swear—” Namjoon began, his voice tinged with desperation. But Yoongi held up a hand, cutting him off.

“I don't want to hear it, Namjoon,” he said, his tone final.

“Whatever it is, I’m giving her the space to tell me herself.” Namjoon's gaze faltered under Yoongi's intense stare.

“I would never intentionally do anything to harm Y/N or come between you two. She's like family to me, too.” Yoongi's jaw clenched tighter, but he nodded curtly, acknowledging Namjoon's words.

“Seokjin.” He addressed the oldest man in the room.

“Yes, Yoongi?” Seokjin replied, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

“She’s still taking those pills you gave her,” Seokjin's brow furrowed in concern at Yoongi's words. They were only a temporary solution before Seokjin decided that day to put her on barbiturates. She needs his help and if he cannot help her the way he knows it will be most effective, he’ll at least prescribe whatever will tone down her night terrors so she can sleep at nights.

"I'll talk to her," he said firmly. “But you know what would certainly help her—” Yoongi’s hand flew high to hit the table, making everybody twitch at the loud noise.

“No, Seokjin. No.” The family members exchanged solemn nods. Yoongi took a moment to compose himself, his chest heaving with pent-up frustration.

"She needs more support than we can provide on our own. We have to consider what's best for her.” Yoongi struggled to find the words to express his feelings. "I know, Seokjin," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "But that is going way too far.”

Namjoon leaned forward, his expression earnest. The youngest at the end of the table cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him, waiting for his input. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the tension in the room, before speaking up.

“Maybe you just need to stop shielding her in. Let her live a life—” Jungkook's suggestion hung in the air, a fresh perspective on the situation that caused the family members to exchange thoughtful glances.

Yoongi's brow furrowed as he considered Jungkook's words, the idea of allowing Y/N more freedom conflicting with his instinct to protect her.

“But what if she runs for the hills, Kook.” Park Jimin’s voice echoed from across the room, his hands busy pouring the strong liquor to seven crystal glasses. Yoongi's gaze flickered towards Jimin, setting the first glass in front of him.

"I can't bear the thought of her running away from me again," Yoongi admitted, his voice heavy with emotion. Hoseok nodded in agreement, his expression sombre.

Jungkook nodded thoughtfully, understanding Yoongi's apprehension. "I get where you're coming from, hyung,—” Jimin set down the last glass of liquor, his expression sympathetic.

“I’d say, nonetheless, she needs something to occupy her mind other than those thoughts.” Said Jimin sitting down on his chair while nursing his own glass of the booze.

"Maybe if we can find something that brings her joy, something to distract her—” Seokjin nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful.

“She studied, tasted her own freedom and now all she’s left with is being your wife.” Yoongi's heart clenched at Jimin's words, a pang of guilt washing over him. But still a large part of him was thinking why it is not enough.

“She can work with me once she’s better.” The doctor interjected. Yoongi's gaze shifted towards Seokjin, a flicker of hope igniting within him at the suggestion.

"You think she'd be up for it?" Yoongi asked, his voice tentative yet hopeful.

“Ah hyung you’re so in the dark—” Jungkook remarked. Jungkook sighed, his gaze meeting Yoongi's with empathy.

“She needs to feel like she has a say in her own life, like she's not just living for someone else.” Where this newfound wisdom arose, Yoongi did not know. But he was glad for the support of his family men.

Hoseok placed a reassuring hand on Yoongi's shoulder, his expression filled with empathy.

“She knows so much about herbs, remedies, I think she’ll be happy to help Seokjin.” Yoongi's heart swelled with gratitude for Hoseok's insight. He hadn't fully realised the extent of Y/N's knowledge and interests outside of their marriage and that needed to change.

“Don’t tell her just yet.” The right hand man remarked.

“Yes, I want to give her more time to recover before we come back to the sanctuary.” The other family members murmured their agreement, a sense of solidarity and understanding settling over them. After all, at the end of the day it is a happy wife, happy life.

But months later, Y/N understood that if there’s even a slight possibility that the scarred leader will grow for better, it would be a painfully long process. She realised so once he returned with his knuckles all bruised and bloodied one night. She tended to them, and he was basking under her touch. Despite everything, she couldn’t ignore the humanity in his pain.

Her eyes rolled and a loud sigh followed when she understood what was the cause of his lapse of senses. He had let his frustration and anger take over him, but rather than put it out on everyone else like he was known for, he silently left his office to vent his anger elsewhere. She guided him to sit down after she asked the maid to bring her everything she needed to clean his wounds.

Yoongi watched her, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and excitement under her delicate touch. The feel of her hands, so careful and tender, was both a comfort and a torment. The imagery masking all the darkness that loomed over them, they would fool even the Lord himself that this couple is one of love.

They sat in silence, the only sound the soft rustle of bandages and the distant rumble of thunder outside. Yoongi closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes to him. She avoided him less and less. So why did he have to let his steam off so suddenly?

“You know—” she began, focusing on his other hand now.

“You’re not really setting a good example of “communication is the key ”, now do you?”

Yoongi's eyes flickered open at her words, a hint of guilt flashing across his features before he quickly masked it with a neutral expression. He couldn't deny the truth in her statement, nor could he easily articulate the tangled mess of emotions that swirled within him.

His mind drifted back to the hushed whispers, the concerned looks from Seokjin. Y/N was still fairly weak in terms of her health. Yet, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’ll come to tell him he’s going to be a father. Foolish of him, he knows. Selfish of him, he knows that too.

“I’m sorry, Dove.” He only muttered, forcing a kiss to her sphenoid bone, it was the only affection she rarely allowed him to show. Y/N knew that if she wanted to persuade him that she isn’t a flying risk, she’ll have to allow him to do more. She progressed slowly, with patience and space to breathe everything out.

The reason the young leader needed to vent his anger was obvious to Y/N. She heard the maid that so blatantly spied on everything she did, what she asked for, and whom she talks to on the telephone. Y/N was cautious, yet today, she had to ask for some feminine goods. She understood where his hope for a baby came from, he got himself to believe that once the monthly bleeding did not come the first, second nor the third month.

The young gal, however, knew that this has nothing to do with the possibility of her being pregnant. She still drank the remedy, just to be sure, and for her peace of mind as it bore too many demons already. The fourth month her body decided it’s time to function again and of course the devoted maid reported that right back to her husband whose hope for a child vanished.

“I was hoping we could go see Ma and little Bo Cheng before the wedding, I promised to teach him how to ride a ho—” she began her request carefully. Y/N had managed to negotiate Daiyu’s extended vacation in America with her young son and Kai, yet she couldn’t shake the strong feeling that Yoongi had only allowed such a thing to happen because he felt indebted to her at the moment. Her state was far more delicate than he thought and he desperately wanted to make her happy. The one thing she wanted the most, he couldn’t grant. Freedom.

“Would that make you happy?” Yoongi interrupted. He sighed, his eyes drifting to the window where dark clouds gathered on the horizon.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a small, hesitant smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. It was a fragile thing, easily shattered, but it was real. And in that moment, Yoongi vowed to himself that he would protect that smile, nurture it, and help it grow.

“Yes, it would. Maybe we could also pay a visit to Daiyu—” Y/N sucked her lips in and shyly smiled again. Yoongi nodded slowly. He sighed, leaning back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrests. The weight of their precarious situation pressed down on him, the knowledge that every decision could have far-reaching consequences hanging over them like a dark cloud.

“I’m not sure about that, sweetling,” he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Her heart clenched, did he understand her intentions?

“You said you’ll give me the world, Yoongi. Why not this?” Y/N’s smile faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features.

Yoongi’s gaze softened further, a mixture of regret and longing in his eyes. He reached out, taking her hand in his, his touch gentle and reassuring.

“I will consider this trip, but we have to be cautious now. War is looming on the horizon.” He explained, his tone serious.

“What do you mean war? You’ve just won one,” she challenged, her voice laced with disbelief.

“The world is a volatile place, Dove. Our battle was nothing in comparison to what is to come. The world will fight—” Yoongi’s expression darkened, the weight of their past victories suddenly overshadowed by the looming threat of conflict. Y/N’s heart sank at the mention of war, a cold knot forming in the pit of her stomach.

“Until we’re certain there’s no threat, I want us to remain in Korea, my love.” he declared, his final words.

Y/N’s heart sank at his words, but she forced herself to nod, understanding the gravity of their situation. The war threatened to consume them all, and they had to tread carefully if they were to survive. Y/N nodded slowly to his words.

“She wrote to you this morning, didn’t she?” Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that she’s running out of time. If they were caught up in the chaos, she feared she may never leave this place. And with Yoongi’s resolve to remain in Korea, their window of opportunity grew smaller with each passing moment. It was worth the shot, he wouldn’t let her slip that easily if there’s an actual threat that the world’s will battle.

“She met someone,” Y/N added softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty of how Yoongi will react. He, however, already knew. There was nothing that would go past him or so he thought.

"She met someone?" he repeated, his voice tinged with false scepticism. Y/N's heart ached at the doubt in Yoongi's voice, but she held firm in her conviction.

“She’s a widow with a child, who—”

“Happy widow with a child—” she inserted herself into his remark. "She deserves it, Yoongi. After everything she's been through, she deserves a chance at love and happiness.”

“Daiyu is no longer tied to the syndicate. You promised not to meddle with her affairs unless she needs help.” She reminded him less gently, her voice tinged with a hint of caution.

“I intend to keep that promise.” Lie. He already knew the man who so openly started to court her. A sense of relief washed over Y/N as she watched Yoongi's resistance soften, even if it was pretended.

“The rain won’t stop pouring—” Y/N’s voice trailed off, a sombre note creeping into her tone as she glanced out the window at the stormy sky.

“How do you feel today?” Yoongi observed Y/N for a moment, his expression softening as he took in her weary demeanour.

“Better than yesterday.” She replied, her voice carrying a hint of resilience. Yoongi nodded, a sense of relief washing over him at her response. Despite the challenges they faced, he was grateful for every moment of peace they could find amidst the storm.

He noticed the subtle signs of improvement in her appearance. Her cheeks, once sunken and lifeless, now held a hint of colour, and the dark circles under her eyes seemed less pronounced. Her eyes sparkled differently, not with tears as of late. Whatever Seokjin is doing to help her, it is working.

“Have you slept well?” he inquired gently, his voice filled with genuine concern. From Monday to Friday, storms reigned over the hidden valley. Yoongi reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face, his touch tender and reassuring. Her dark hair grew enough to reach past her shoulders since the unfortunate event back in October.

“It wasn't the best, but it was better than before.” Yoongi nodded in understanding, his gaze lingering on her with a mixture of admiration and concern. He knew that even the smallest victories, like a few hours of sleep, were worth celebrating in their tumultuous world. After all the night terrors she endured for months.

“How’s working with Seokjin?” He knew how demanding their roles could be, especially in the midst of ongoing turmoil. Yoongi expected her to sigh just as softly as she always does, her expression to reflect the weight of responsibility, but none of that happened. Y/N smiled at him brightly instead.

Y/N's smile was like a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds, momentarily dispelling the shadows that lingered around them.

“Work has been great. I've been able to help so many people—” she replied, her voice infused with a sense of optimism that Yoongi hadn't heard in a while. As she spoke, Y/N’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm, a stark contrast to the weariness that had plagued her in recent months.

“Did you know that punk, Jungkook, pretends to be sick every other day just to swing by?” Y/N’s voice was filled with amusement as she recounted the antics of the youngest of the seven. Though older than her, she did not feel any age difference between them two.

Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle at the mention of Jungkook's antics.

"That sounds like him," he remarked, a fond smile playing at his lips. She continued, her words flowing freely as she recounted her experiences while working with Seokjin at the clinic.

“Seokjin has been a wonderful mentor,” she continued, her eyes shining with gratitude. “He’s taught me so much more than we actually studied at school—” Yoongi nodded in agreement, a sense of pride swelling within him as he listened to Y/N's tales of their work at the clinic.

“I remember this one young man who had sustained severe burns on his arms. The sight of his injuries was heart-breaking, but I could see the determination in his eyes to overcome the pain.” Y/N’s voice softened with emotion as she recalled the moment.

"We worked tirelessly to stabilise him, and when he finally regained consciousness, the look of gratitude in his eyes made all the long hours and hard work worth it. It was a reminder of why I wanted to be a nurse in the first place—to make a difference in people’s lives, no matter how small.”

Yoongi listened intently, his heart swelling with a mixture of emotions. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for not allowing her to pursue her passion for nursing earlier.

He may not be able to undo the past, but he could certainly make sure that she had all the support she needed to thrive in the future. The youngest was right. She needed this, she needed to regain her purpose in her life. To be someone for herself.

He realised how much he had underestimated her need for work, how vital it was for her to have a sense of purpose and fulfilment. There was still hope and goodness.

Yoongi listened to all the stories she had to say as for the first time since forever, there were no tears, no screams, no tension in the air. Just the calm, steady rhythm of their shared breaths.

“You know,” Yoongi began, his voice soft, "I'm proud of you. Proud of everything you've accomplished and the progress you’re making. I should have let you do this sooner.”

“Can’t change the past now can we?” He nodded to her remark solemnly, squeezing her hand.

“Tell me more,—” he urged, eager to hear more about her work, her passion. He wanted to be part of her world just like she is part of his, to support her in every way possible.

Y/N smiled, her face glowing with happiness. “Well, there’s this little girl named Jang-mi. She’s been coming in for treatment regularly, and despite everything, she's always so cheerful—”

Y/N pulled her coat tighter around her, feeling the icy water seep through the fabric. Her breath came in shallow gasps, mixing with the cold air to form small clouds that dissipated as quickly as they appeared. She huddled beneath the overhang of a small alley, her body shivering uncontrollably. The once comforting weight of her coat now felt like a burden, soaked and heavy.

Her mind raced, a chaotic swirl of fear and desperation. The past few days had been a whirlwind of terror and confusion. She had trusted the wrong people, made alliances that crumbled under the weight of deceit. Every step she took seemed to lead her deeper into a labyrinth of danger and uncertainty. She couldn’t afford another mistake; the stakes were too high. The sound of her own heartbeat was loud in her ears, a constant reminder of the life-or-death game she was playing.

A sudden flash of lightning split the sky, casting stark shadows and illuminating the alley in a harsh, white light. For a brief moment, everything was clear and sharp, every detail etched into her memory. That’s when she saw him.

At the mouth of the alley is where he stood , his figure backlit by the brilliant light. He was drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead, but he seemed unfazed by the torrential rain. His presence was as menacing as ever, a dark silhouette against the night. His eyes, however, were what held her captive. They were dark, deep pools of unreadable emotion, reflecting the storm’s fury.

Yoongi didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched her, his gaze intense and unwavering. It was a look she had seen before, one that sent chills down her spine. It was the look of a predator sizing up its prey. She knew then, with a sickening certainty, that no matter how far she ran, he would always be one step ahead.

Panic surged through her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. She pressed herself against the wall, the rough brick scraping her skin through the thin material of her coat. She needed to think, to find a way out, but her mind was a blur of fear and fatigue. The rain continued to pour, the cold seeping into her bones, making her limbs feel heavy and uncooperative.

Yoongi took a step forward, the movement slow and deliberate. His boots splashed in the puddles, the sound muffled by the storm. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, a wild, frantic rhythm. She felt like a trapped animal, cornered with no way out. The alley was a dead end, and Yoongi was blocking her only escape route.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the noise of the storm. “You can’t keep running.”

His words were a cold, hard truth that she didn’t want to accept. But she had no choice. Every attempt to escape had led her right back to him, like a cruel game of cat and mouse. She swallowed hard, her throat dry despite the rain. She had to keep fighting, had to find a way to break free from his grip.

“I won’t let you control me,” she said, her voice shaking but determined. “I’ll find a way out.”

Yoongi’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or admiration for her defiance. “You’re stronger than I thought,” he said, taking another step closer. “But strength alone won’t save you.”

He was close now, close enough that she could see the droplets of rain clinging to his eyelashes, the way his clothes clung to his body. His presence was overwhelming, a dark force that seemed to consume all the light around him. She knew she had to act, had to do something before it was too late.

Summoning every ounce of courage, Y/N pushed off the wall and lunged towards him, hoping to catch him off guard. But Yoongi was ready. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with a grip like iron. She struggled, twisting and pulling, but he was too strong.

“Let me fucking go!” she cried, her voice breaking with desperation.

Yoongi pulled her closer, his other hand coming up to cup her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re mine, Y/N,” he said softly, his breath warm against her skin. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if it means protecting you from yourself.”

Tears mingled with the rain on her cheeks as she realised the futility of her struggle. Yoongi’s words were a chilling promise, one that she knew he would keep. She was trapped, caught in a web of his making, with no way out.

The storm raged on around them, but in that moment, all Y/N could feel was the cold, unyielding grip of the man she used to fear, and the inescapable reality of her situation.

Y/N woke with a start, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the remnants of the nightmare clung to her mind. Her body was drenched in cold sweat, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. For a moment, she couldn’t discern reality from the dream, the vivid images of the rain-soaked alley and Yoongi’s menacing presence still haunting her.

It was a memory that was hidden in the back of her mind to resurface when she’s the most vulnerable. It had happened a few times already, her mind showing her each time she attempted to escape the scarred leader.

She took a deep breath and listened to the mix of crackling fireplace and raindrops outside. His eyes were on her petite physique, his hands holding a book he was reading while she took a well deserved afternoon nap. He put down his reading glasses and ran a hand through his hair, closing the book and turning her attention to her.

“Which one was it this time?”

She turned to see him sitting beside her, his eyes filled with worry. The contrast between the Yoongi in her nightmare and the one before her now was stark. Gone was the cold, calculating predator; in his place was a man who genuinely cared for her well-being. He did change a little. Or maybe he was like that before but his selfishness didn’t allow him to show her his bright side.

Her legs moved to his lap when she was asleep, and he gently rubbed circles into her ankles, his touch soothing for once.

“Will you keep me safe?”

Yoongi's expression softened further, his gaze unwavering as he looked into her eyes. He knows that there were moments that haunt her till now. Moments he let happen with his cockiness.

“Always,” he replied, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”

“I just... I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” she admitted, her voice breaking slightly.

“Just rest, Dove,” Yoongi murmured, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. “I’ll be right here.”

After a few silent minutes, Y/N broke the calm silence.

“Can we play the piano?”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Together, they moved to the old piano in the corner of the room. As they sat side by side, their fingers tentatively began to touch the keys. Each note was a delicate thread, weaving together a tapestry of their unspoken emotions. The music became their secret language, a way to say everything they couldn’t put into words.

Every time she did not feel like speaking herself, they played. Until she felt better. Yoongi played with a gentle intensity, his fingers dancing over the keys with practised ease.

He was a better player, so she thought. Afterall, he had had more life to practice.

The medication made her more open to him. Sooner or later she’ll have to get off of it before it will become her only source of happiness. There were days it made her sleep well, drink, eat, breathe and live like the person she used to be. And there were days she sat in front of her vanity mirror knowing this effect is only temporary.

She cannot afford to get off of them while she’s remaining by his side. Her being would not take it and the prospect of freedom would be scarce. It blunted negative emotions which worked in the scarred boy’s favour.

It was working, but it was a question of time when she’ll develop tolerance and they won’t work anymore. That’s why Seokjin is desperately trying to convince Yoongi that he’ll have a way to help her. Permanently.

Yoongi knows that it would be just another mistake he would have to write under his name.

“I’ll always keep you safe,” he whispered again, his words a promise and a plea. And in the quiet aftermath of their duet, she almost believed him.

In that fleeting moment, she wasn’t running, and Yoongi wasn’t chasing. They were simply two souls, lost in the music, trying to find their way back to each other. One more than the other.

His hand moved to cover hers on the keys, their eyes meeting in the stillness that followed. The world outside ceased to exist, the rain and the fire a distant backdrop to the intensity of their shared gaze.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Yoongi leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. Her heart raced, not with fear, but with a different kind of anticipation.

Their faces were inches apart, the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. His eyes flickered to her lips, then back to her eyes, seeking permission, seeking assurance. Y/N’s breath hitched, her mind a whirlwind of emotions.

“Unnie?!” Xiaoli's voice rang out, bright and oblivious. “We need to talk about—”

“Can you keep me safe from my own sister?” She scoffed playfully. His chuckle bounced on her lips as his lips still hovered just a breath away from hers, the paper door swung open with a sudden, sharp creak.

Taehyung stepped in behind her, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. "Oh. We’re... interrupting, aren’t we?”

Yoongi pulled back slightly, his expression darkening as he turned to face them. Y/N felt the moment slipping away, the fragile connection disrupted.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked, his voice strained with barely concealed irritation.

“You invited us to have dinner, Hyung.” Taehyung reminded him, his tone a mix of apology and amusement.

Xiaoli’s eyes darted between Yoongi and Y/N, realisation dawning on her face. “Oh... we’re really sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in, Kkangpae Min.”

She apologised, still not her but always to him and him only. Y/N forced herself to smile. The woman that her sister became is not the same one she grew up with.

“There was nothing to interrupt, don’t worry,” she waved it off and Yoongi sighed, the tension in his shoulders evident.

The fleeting moment of intimacy with Y/N hung heavily in his mind. Before, during and after the dinner. He was extravagantly close to feel her lips on his again, just for the moment to be swept away.

Dinner was a mix of awkward silences and forced conversation. Xiaoli and Taehyung tried to lighten the mood, but the air was thick with unspoken words.

Yoongi, for his part, seemed distant, his mind clearly elsewhere. Every so often, his gaze would meet hers across the table.

“Will you come next week?” Xiaoli asked, sipping her wine.

Y/N, momentarily distracted from her thoughts, looked up.

“Next week?”

Y/N glanced at Yoongi, who was already looking at her. She hesitated, unsure of committing to anything he did not allow earlier.

“Yes, Y/N promised Bo Cheng to teach him how to ride a horse, and I have some business to attend to.” Yoongi cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

“I could teach him,” Said Xiaoli, a bit jealous that their brother wanted Y/N to teach him when she was right there in the hotel.

Once Xiaoli and Taehyung will be with each other for eternity, the family of three then, will take their leave back to China.

The Triad leader attended his own business trips while his wife and children stayed with the “allying” clan.

He doesn’t know. None of them knows what Y/N did to herself, apart from Xiaoli, who herself doesn’t know every detail. They spreaded white lies to cover this “lapse of senses”. A misstep. Y/N hides the fading scar carefully to avoid any explanation. She wished to not tell them, and the kkangpae did not object to her wishes anymore. Whatever she wants, she gets. Usually, most of the time if she’s reasonable and clever about it.

The past months painstakingly helped them to get better. Or so Yoongi thought. Her priority was never to be his good wife, her priority is him thinking she will be his good obedient loving wife and when he won’t expect her to seek freedom anymore — she’ll disappear.

“I don't know about that, honey. You remember that nasty fall you took last year?” Her husband-to-be said nonchalantly. Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion.

“Fall?—“ she asked, doubting his words.

“What are you talking about?” Xiaoli herself was surprised at his words. She did not recall any falls. Y/N knew Xiaoli isn’t the best rider, but she was decent enough to hold any situation that would make her fall from the horse under control.

“I don’t remember that,—” she said, taking another long sip from her glass.

“You’d certainly remember falling from a horse. Why don’t I know about this, Yoongi?” Said Y/N turning herself to the quiet man.

“I was having a hard time keeping you here as you loved to go for a run back then. It must have slipped my mind—“

“My sister falling from a horse slipped your mind?”

“He did not know Y/N, until a lot later. Right, Hyung?” Taehyung smiled sweetly at her, defending his Kkangpae. As always. Y/N clicked her tongue and gifted Yoongi with a penetrating stare creating another layer of tension in the room.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat, attempting to gather his thoughts. The last thing he wants is to mess up their relationship again.

“You’re right, love. I should have told you once I got to know that,” Yoongi admitting guilt is a new trait he acquired these past months.

“How did she fall?” Y/N aimed her question at Taehyung as her sister clearly doesn't remember it.

“It wasn’t probably that bad if I don’t remember it, Unnie. Don’t worry about it anymore—“ the younger female answered before her fiance had the chance to do so.

Y/N sighed loudly but the hand under the table that was gripping her younger sister’s thigh was not seen by her eyes.

It was hard to keep focus, especially with Seokjin constantly needing her assistance at work. His stern demeanour and meticulous nature kept her on her toes, but she appreciated the distraction. She knew why she was at his beck and call. Yoongi demanded so. Under any circumstances she ought to be next to Seokjin.

The ambulance in the sanctuary was significantly smaller than the big sanitorium in the town, but there was still some work to do here too.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and studying her intently.

“The usual,” she murmured, filling today’s report. Seokjin watched her for a moment, then brought the courage to ask.

“Have you been intimate?” Y/N dropped the pen at once and with wide eyes. She stared at him. The question came out of nowhere nor was it called for.

“Wh-what do you mean intimate?”

“Exactly what I said,” he replied calmly, not breaking eye contact.

“Have you been intimate with Yoongi again?”

“I don’t see how this is your business, Seokjin.” She felt her face flush with heat, a mix of embarrassment and anger.

“I’m not trying to pry. I’m your friend, but I’m also your doctor, sweetling—,” he said softly.

“Your health and well-being are my concern,” Seokjin explained. “And you know that if something’s affecting you emotionally or physically, it could impact your health.”

Bullcrap, he is in fact prying.

She was silent for a minute, trying to comprehend how he is taking care of her being this late. If she wouldn’t attempt to kill herself, these concerns wouldn’t be as great. But Y/N cannot afford to break havoc. She can’t go on rampage as she wants every single person here to think that she is moving towards being a good obedient wife of the Kkangpae. Even though she wants to scream to each and one of their faces about how much they failed her. How much they hurt her. Yet, patience is the key. Breathe, sleep, eat, endure.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, then decided to change the topic.

“What about your wife?” Seokjin’s eyes flickered with surprise before he masked it with a neutral expression. Y/N barely knew the woman. Matter of fact she has seen her maybe three times since the wedding.

“Very much pregnant,” he said, his voice a mix of pride and weariness.

“Oh,” Y/N replied, taken aback. “I didn’t know. Congratulations, I guess.” Here comes another thing that Yoongi managed to keep from her.

“Thank you, my dear,” Seokjin said, a small smile touching his lips. “It’s been… an interesting journey, to say the least.”

“I can imagine,—” Y/N said, sensing there was more beneath the surface.

“Can you imagine yourself on that journey?” Seokjin interrupted, his gaze searching her face.

She pretended that the question took her by surprise, looking down at her hands to not give herself away.

“I don’t know,” she admitted softly. He is testing her. “It’s hard to think about that kind of future with everything that’s going on.”

Seokjin nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s understandable. But it’s something to consider. Maybe a baby would help you to shush your demons away.”

Y/N’s heart raced at the suggestion, and she forced herself to maintain her composure. “I… I don’t think a baby is the answer, Seokjin. There’s so much I need to sort out first.”

“Sometimes, having something to focus on, something to live for, can make all the difference,” Seokjin said gently.

She nodded, still feeling uneasy about the direction of the conversation. Opting not to give more than she would want to by not answering his remark and going back to finish the report.

“Just know that you have options. And that you don’t have to go through any of this alone.”

“Thanks,” she replied, offering a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Of course she won’t.

Y/N entered the dimly lit room where Yoongi was sitting, his face illuminated by the soft glow of a lamp. He looked up as she closed the door behind her, his expression softened once he looked up from the papers. The office in the sanctuary remained the same apart from the fact that now the young Kkangpae occupies it far more often than before.

He took his glasses off and pushed himself away from the desk creating a space for her to come and stand in front of him, leaning against the massive wooden desk. Her hands felt the warmth of the wood that had been heated by the lamp, reflecting the same heat that radiated between them.

“Did you ask Seokjin to put thoughts into my head?” she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask him to, but I knew he would at some point try to give you some wisdom. What did he say?”

“That a baby would be the right treatment for me,” she replied, her voice tight with frustration.

Yoongi’s eyes widened slightly, then he closed them and exhaled deeply.

“I’m sorry, Dove—“

“Do you think that too?” she asked, searching his face. “That a baby would magically fix everything?”

Yoongi shook his head, stepping up from his chair and closer to her. “No, I don’t. A baby isn’t a solution to our problems—“ she didn’t believe one word that was coming out of this mouth. He wouldn’t break his knuckles this hard if he didn’t want the baby that Y/N took care of not happening anytime soon. Her system was full of herbal remedies. And now that she knows, the herbs flowing in her system are working, she can use that to her advantage.

“But that would make you happy right?” She countered, seeing through him. Softening her mimics to appeal to him.

“Well, yeah, I want a family with you someday—“

“Someday? The bandages on your knuckles says that you’re pretty eager to have it now—” she scoffed and murmured under her nose.

Yoongi’s eyes for once reflected something she couldn’t quite recognise. There was a mix of desperation and longing that flickered there. His hand reached out, trembling slightly, and cupped her cheek gently.

“Dove, I want us to be happy, truly happy. But I know bringing a child into this world won’t erase your pain or solve our problems. We need to fix ourselves first—” His thumb brushed her cheek tenderly.

“I’m sorry for being selfish, my love,” she felt a tear escape her eye, rolling down to where his thumb could catch it. She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch because that’s what always softens his edges.

After months, she has learnt what strings to pull to make him move just the way she wants to. Yet, Y/N knows that he isn’t that stupid to believe she suddenly wants to live with him happily ever after.

“I can pour us some wine. We can play the piano after dinner, hm?” He could feel her vulnerability, her heart laid bare before him. Or so he thought as she wanted him to think that. His hand continued to caress her cheek softly, his touch gentle yet laden with unspoken longing she sensed each time he attempted to get closer to her.

She nodded, a small pretentious smile playing on her lips as she stepped closer to him. The tension between them lingered.

He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her forehead. “We will be good. We just need time with each other.”

He sat first, patting the space beside him, inviting her to join. Her fingers brushed the keys, eliciting a soft, mournful note. A melody that echoed in her mind far too often. An anthem for hurting. Weeping symphony, tears of sorrow.

He became far too respectful towards her boundaries which essentially was ruining all of her plans. Her fingers pressed the keys with delicate touch even when she wanted to smash them rock hard.

“Why this song?” She let the question hang in the air for a moment, her fingers poised above the keys as if weighing his words.

“Do you know what they interpret it as?” She finally said, her voice soft, barely audible above the lingering notes. Her eyes, once masked with a facade of calm, now revealed a flicker of the anguish she carried.

“Tell me,” he flipped the page of the notes book for her to continue the song.

“It’s a tale of unspoken grief, of wounds too deep to heal and shadows that never leave.”

He felt a shiver run down his spine as she said that. Part of him understood what message she was trying to leave and part of him wished he’s wrong.

“I view it as love lost and dreams shattered. They say it’s a lament for those who wander through life carrying burdens no one else can see.”

He carefully listened to all her words, all the notes she played, all her feelings she shared. Her fingers moved over the keys, each note a whisper of sorrow.

“The scars I carry inside,—“ His hand reached out to touch hers, a gesture of comfort. Stopping her from playing more.

“Let me help you carry that weight—“

“You created it in the first place.”

His eyes widened, a mixture of guilt and realisation flooding his expression. She pulled her hand away.

“The scars I carry, the emptiness I feel, they all trace back to you.”

His mind raced to comprehend the depth of her pain, trying to understand her intentions. It’s not like he ever expected her to say it out loud.

“You created emptiness in me Yoongi—“

He felt his heart clench with guilt and regret. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. It was nothing new. She heard his apologies but she was yet to accept them

She turned back to the piano, her fingers resting on the keys but not playing. “Intentions don’t change the past,” she said softly. “The pain remains—“

“But the future can learn from mistakes.”

“I will. I’ll learn—“ He began before she interrupted him.

“You need to fill the space now.” His eyes lit up listening to her words. In his mind, this was it. The holy grail. In her mind, she was wrapping him around her finger before she would bounce away like a pebble on the pond.

“Heal me if you must.”

These were her last words before the distance between them shrank, the intensity of their emotions drawing them closer. He leaned in, his heart pounding in his chest that she could almost hear it but Y/N didn’t pull away.

Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, a delicate brush that spoke of apology, of yearning, and of promises yet to be fulfilled. Her heart cried and the song remained echoing in her mind.

As they pulled back slightly, their foreheads resting against each other, Yoongi felt a warmth spread through him, chasing away the cold shadows of regret. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. His thoughts were swirling with one thing only — this was the real beginning of them. And it was the beginning.

The beginning of the end.

I N T E R L O G U E

The walls were lined with bookshelves, each shelf overflowing with dusty tomes and old papers. A large, ornate desk stood in the centre, its surface cluttered with stacks of documents.

Seokjin rarely sends her to this room as they also rarely stay in the hanok the sanctuary has for medical assistance to those who live here.

She approached slowly, her fingers brushing over the worn leather of a chair before settling on a stack of yellowed files that he asked to bring. It was then when her eyes caught the opened crimson red files that laid flat open on the desk. The ones that the doctor forgot to take with him the other time he had to run and tend to the lady of the house in the middle of the night. They stayed there, laid open, for several weeks. Touched by a thin layer of dust on top of it.

Kim Seokjin is renowned in his field of practice. Yet, this was going to be his great mistake. Inside, there were detailed medical records, notes written in a precise, almost mechanical hand. The words on the pages made her stomach churn—phrases like “prefrontal lobotomy,” “behavioural correction,” and “psychosurgical intervention” leapt out at her. She read on, horrified by the cold, clinical descriptions of procedures that seemed more like torture than treatment.

Her hand flew to her mouth to not let the wailing cry away.

Trembling, she pushed the file aside and reached for the next one. Not bearing what they’ve done to her sister. Y/N’s hands shook as she read through the files, each word a dagger to her heart. The clinical detachment with which the procedures were described made her feel sick. These were not just medical records—they were accounts of inhuman experiments carried out in the name of science, or more so — control.

The name on this file was all too familiar, it was Jin’s wife. He must have done it before the wedding as she seemed far too calm. Her heart pounded in her chest as she opened it, fearing what she might find. The contents were similar—detailed accounts of medical procedures, records of a lobotomy performed in a desperate attempt to “cure” her of what the notes described as “hysteria” and “unmanageable behaviour.”

Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She stumbled back from the desk, her mind reeling from the revelations. The room seemed to close in around her, the shadows deepening as the weight of what she had discovered settled on her shoulders.

The name on the empty file under those made her anxious, hysteric even more as the tag had Min Y/N written on it.

She wiped her tears but they couldn't stop falling.

“Y/N?”

©pennyellee. please do not repost

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. Nor in this case, I'm a medical professional.

let's be friends chummers 🫧♡ ︎

lots of love, p.

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts - @seonghwaexile - @catlove83

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yankpop · 1 year ago

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Hard Love (Haegeum! Suga Drabble)

Summary: Gang leader Yoongi is someone you wish you've never met before.

DISCLAIMER: This is a FICTION work only made for entertainment purposes that includes yandere/dark. I do not support or encourage any type of abusive behaviour.

Check more: Masterlist.

Female reader

WARNINGS: NON-CON.

AN: Let me know what you think of this, I'm kinda scared for the feedback I'll receive, this is a bit heavy.

“Shh, don’t cry, pretty girl.”

He murmurs, lips pressed against your cheek, even as you try to pull away from him.

His tongue licks away some of your tears, a low hum coming from him. Your stomach churns with disgust upon hearing him, the need to get away from him almost overwhelming you.

“Even your tears taste delicious.”

It only makes you whimper, fat tears sliding down your face and onto your neck. His thrusts are harsh, fucking you deep and fast, hips pistoning upwards with a speed that you doesn’t make you feel any pleasure.

You’re just there to be used by him. Like a rag doll. Used at his will. Not even your hysterical screams and cries make him stop. He simply manhandled you into whatever he wanted.

He’s a monster.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Fitting me like a glove.” he hisses, punctuating his opinion as he jackhammers into you, hips slamming against yours with force.

A whimper escapes your lips and you weakly try to push your palms against his chest, hoping to create some distance between you but your pathetic attempt quickly comes to an end as he grabs your wrists with one hand, twisting them behind your back as if it’s nothing.

“Please…” you sob, lips trembling as you beg. He doesn’t stop, maintaining his brutal pace.

His lips curl into a sleazy smile, one that makes you lose any hope. His hair falls to his face, strands attaching themselves to the sweaty skin, giving him a deranged look.

“Can’t stop now, princess. Gotta fuck you nice and good, make sure they get the message, right?”

You widen your eyes at that, the painful reminder that your family is in the room next to yours, forced to listen to this. His armed gang members surrounding your parents and siblings, making sure they know the consequences of disrespecting him.

All of this because your dad - a good and respectful cop - had led a raid to one of his warehouses, leading to the seizure of a large sum of money and drugs.

Big mistake.

His free hand finds your face, fingers digging into your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. The scar is prominent, looking frightening up close and you look away to his good eye.

“Your daddy needs to learn that he needs to stay the fuck away from my business. Too bad you’re the one paying for his mistakes.” he smiles at you, drinking in your features.

“But you’re such an angel, aren’t you? Taking my cock like a pro.”

His complement makes you choke on your spit.

Yoongi keeps fucking you, the bed loudly squeaking and you shut your eyes, imaging how scared your family must be. Your pussy feels sore from the assault and it only worsens as he speeds up, frantically thrusting as a string of curses falls out of his mouth.

His body tenses up beneath you and his hold on your wrists tightens uncomfortably.

A loud growl erupts from his throat upon reaching his selfish orgasm, hips finally stilling with a final thrust and he closes his eyes, resting his head back with a satisfied sigh.

You whimper, uncomfortable as his cum leaks from your pussy, dripping down to your thighs and you attempt to raise yourself to pull him out of you but his hand tightens around you, eyes snapping open.

“None of that, princess. I’m not done with you yet.” his voice huskier, face glistening with sweat but his eyes hold that shine of madness that makes you quiet in a second. He tilts his hips, pushing all of his length back inside you.

“Daddy’s lesson isn’t over yet. You’re not getting away from me that easily.”

#@yankpop #yandere bts #bts yandere #yandere suga #yandere suga x reader #yandere yoongi #yandere yoongi x reader #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #yandere!bts #yandere!suga #yandere!yoongi #yandere min yoongi #tw: noncon #dark bts #dark suga #dark yoongi #haegeum!suga #gang leader yoongi

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hobicakess · 2 years ago

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RED CHOPSTICK 2 - teaser

SUMMARY: Suga is missing and his brother seeks you out and.. shit happens

RATING: 18+ (i am not a babysitter, you are in control of what you consume.)

PAIRING: Gangster!Yoongi x reader / Detective!August x reader

A/N: I just want fuck every version of Yoongi

PART ONE

Looking back up at the detective, your stomach was twisting into knots, knowing that every single move you made was being watched. The thought made you sick to your stomach.

“My brother keeps many women around” he stated, leaning back into his chair, legs crossing. “But you? He's kept you around for the longest 7 months?”

He whistled mockingly, “That's a world record, what makes you so special huh?” Pulling out another batch of pictures of 4 men whose faces you've seen before, all four of them have tried to make a pass at you, over the past couple months. The next picture he pulled was them lying in pools of their own blood

"Sloppy jobs by yours truly, all because of his infatuation with you.”

He leaned forward, face smug, expecting you to talk now, “Now that I jogged your memory, where is my brother?”

#yoongi x reader #haegeum gif #yandere yoongi #augst d #hoseok x reader #bts x black reader #bts mafia au #dijhera thots #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts imagines #yandere bts #mafia!bts #mafia bts

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back2bluesidex · 2 years ago

Text

Haegeum - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Gangstar!Yoongi X Bar-owner!Reader

Theme: SMUT, PWP (MDNI)

Summary: Banning Yoongi from your bar has its own consequences.

Word count: 1869

Warning: Strong Language, sexual theme, dub-con, sex on the bar island, creampie, mentions of gun, a little bit of violence, Yoongi is hot OMG!!

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

“How dare you?” you seethe through your teeth, staring at the man that seemingly has no emotion at all. Your eyes scan the pieces of shattered glass all over the floor of your bar. You wanna cry. Your bar means the world to you. After pressing yourself under the unforgiving wheels of the corporate sector, you finally saved enough money to open your own bar. It has been one of your biggest dreams since forever. All of it was going good, so fucking good until one day Min Yoongi, the infamous delinquent of the city stepped inside.

Nothing has been quiet and peaceful since then. Using your bar for his illegal deals has become one of the common things. You have warned him again and again but you received nothing but a smirk in return.

However, everything has a limit so does your patience with this terribly handsome delinquent. The dam of your cool demanour broke yesterday when he pulled out his gun and pointed it at the man he was supposed to be making the deal with. You threw both of them out of your bar just at once. Thanks to your bulky security guards, the deed has not been tough. But you knew that you were jumping in a pool of fire. You knew it the moment Yoongi turned his head to stare and smirk at you before being pushed out of the entrance.

And just as you thought, he came back today. He came back with his gang of thugs and jerks and destroyed the large mirror that you installed behind your bar counter, it was your favourite decoration. Seems like he knew it.

You miss the way Yoongi’s eyes rake over your body as you continue to stare at the broken glass all over the floor.

“Are you regretting, kitten?” Yoongi cooes in a low voice, taking your attention. You look at him and visibly cringe at the nickname.

“This is what you get for banning me from my favourite bar in the town.” He says again.

“This is my bar, you nutjob! I get to decide who can step in here and who can’t!” you scream at his face. Your fury didn’t let you see the way you are stepping towrads his body.

“And this is my area, Kitten. I get to decide who can start their business here and who can’t.” Yoongi replies calmly, as if he didn’t trespass your property and scared your guests away less than seven minutes ago.

“You don’t own the property, Yoongi” you reply, boring your fiery eyes into his cold ones.

“You bet I do, kitten. And do you know what else I own?” he pauses, taking a step towards you, “you”.

You stand still. You don’t know if you should be scared or thrilled hearing such a handsome delinquent calling you his. But what you do know is that even if you want to oppose it, it will all go in vain. He is Min Yoongi after all and what Yoongi wants, Yoongi gets.

“Have you ever asked yourself how you got to open this bar without facing any trouble?” Yoongi asks, taking another step towards you and this time you take a step back. You indeed have asked yourself. Since your capital was limited you didn’t get to open your bar in a fairly decent area. You decided to settle for a little shadier place instead, promising yourself that you will shift it to somewhere better once you earn enough profit. However, you heard stories about how other pub or club owners in this area had to pass money under the table for opening their businesses. When you faced nothing like this, you indeed asked yourself several questions starting from why and how. You somehow knew it would come with a price. But you didn’t imagine the price to be Min Yoongi himself.

“Because I let you do so.” Yoongi growls, breaking your reverie and taking another step towards you.

“Becuase I wanted you from the day my eyes landed on this pretty face of yours, this inviting body of yours.” his eyes travel down your face to your neck then your chest. The heat of his gaze and his body makes you feel lightheaded. You almost jump when your body comes in contact with the bar top. Yoongi’s body towers over yours and he locks you between those vieny arms of his. You should be angry and furious but the sudden dampness of your panty says something completely different.

“Why do you want me?” your voice is softer than before and you fail to recognize yourself when you say those words. It is as if you want to hear him saying something very specific, you don’t know why.

“I like strong, confident and self-dependent women. I like to see them fly until they find that one place they can’t reach.” he smirks that lethal smirk again, “and in your case, I am that place.”

You are about to protest but then your words get cut as you feel something hard against your stomach. Unfortunately, that object isn’t his bulge but the cold metal of his gun.

Your breath gets stuck on your throat as you feel terror creeping up your spine. But you don’t want to show it, not today.

“Go ahead, kill me if you want. I still am not bending in front of you.” you say and Yoongi chuckles.

“You got some courage, don’t you? But kitten, you gotta bend in front of me if you wanna save your precious bar. If you don’t, next time it will be those expensive bottle of liqours to be shattered here on the floor.” He presses the gun on your stomach even more.

“No!” you mutter.

“Then do as I say. I promise it won’t be painful. Rather you will like it all.” Yoongi’s gaze falls down on your lips and your cunt leaks with anticipation.

“What do you want me to do?” you say, letting your own eyes fall on his lips.

“Strip” the demand in Yoongi’s voice sends you working in auto-pilot and you find yourself shredding each piece of garment one by one.

Yoongi’s eyes darkened the moment you are left only with your emerald lace lingerie. You see him licking his lips as his body still towers you greedily.

“Stop” Yoongi commands when you reach for the hook of your bra. He places his gun in the back pocket of his jeans and places one of his giant palms on your bare thigh.

“Better than my imagination” he says, squeezing your thigh harshly. Within a moment you find yourself being lifted up and sat on the bar top.

“You are already wet? Is this how much you hate me, kitten?” Yoongi says, regarding the wet spot that is visible through the cloth of your lacy underware. You are embarrassed but you’re aroused much more than that.

Yoongi takes out his gun again. He holds you by your waist and he presses the mouth of his gun on your clothed clit. You hiss at the contact. Yoongi’s mouth finds the expanse of your collarbone as he bites down on your skin, “you like it, kitten. You are just as nasty as I thought.”

Moaning out a little, you try to roll your hips for some friction, you are badly in need of that.

“So impatient. Just like a little slut. You are lucky, I have been waiting for a long time to get you like this, which means I am in no mood to tease.” Yoongi mutters in your throat before he pulls his face away from yours and hooks his fingers on the hem of your underware. He snatches that away within a blink. And now you are sitting naked on the bartop with a leaking core waiting to be ruined by Yoongi.

“Fuck” he curses, as he places two of his fingers on your slit gathering some of your juices. Your pussy starts throbbing at the contact. And without your own knowledge you moan out his name.

“Yes, kitten, yes. Moan my name. Let me hear it.” Yoongi says with a dazed expression. He places the gun on the top of the bar just beside you and starts removing his pants. You know he is just as impatient if not more, when he pulls his boxers away along with his jeans. His delicious looking dick frees from confinement to greet you in its full glory.

Your mouth waters at the sight. As much as your pride hurts right now, you can’t really deny the fact that you would love to suck him dry. As if reading your mind, Yoongi says, “I would love to give you a taste but, I need to be inside you now.”

He aligns his dick on your entrance and presses on your clit with the tip of his cock once. You hiss at the contact, yet again.

“Fuck Yoongi!” you moan.

“Yeah kitten. I am gonna fuck you till you can barely walk.” he says, slowly entering you. He pulls out his length once he is midway and then slams into you without any warning. You grasp for a handful of his thick hair. He barely gives you any time to adjust as he starts moving with a good pace already. You don’t even register when his hands reach your back and unhook your bra. You finally get what is happening when he pulls the garment away from your body and throws that away.

Yoongi latches his mouth to one of your perked nipples as one of his hands massage the other tit. He sucks hard and messily, leaving a trail of his drool dropping down the swell of our tits, reaching your naval down to your mound. He bites your nipple and that gets you seeing stars.

“Yoongi” you whine.

Yoongi takes up a much faster pace, this time he shifts his mouth to your other tit and his hand reaches down to draw circles on your clit. The pleasure that you feel is unexplainable. You feel like you could faint from this.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” a string of curses start flying out of your mouth when his cock hit your g-spot twice in a row. As a result your walls start squeezing his shaft and his cock starts twiching.

“Cum on my cock, kitten” as if you obey his command, you cum on his dick. Yoongi follows right behind as he spills his seed in you. He bites on your nipple again and the pain overstimulates you.

Yoongi pulls out his softened dick from your cunt and watches as his semen flows out. He chuckles at the sight. Your breath is heavy and ragged and seeing Yoongi chuckling at your fucked out form makes you angry.

“What’s so funny?” you ask furiously.

“Not funny but definitely amusing how you ended up bending before me.” He smirks again. Your jaw gets tight at his cockiness.

“It’s a one time thing” you say as you start climbing down from the bar top.

“Oh, kitten, you thought so. Cause now, you belong to me.” Yoongi says, grabbing his gun and pointing that to your temple.

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

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie

#bts smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #bts x reader #bts x you #haegeum #bts suga

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writtenbynamu · 1 year ago

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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soft-pxachy · 3 hours ago

Text

⤷ ❝sex hotline❞ — myg (s.m) pt. 2

➤ Pareja: yoongi x lectora!fem

➤ Recuento de palabras: 17.4k

➤ Género: sexo telefónico! smut y obscenidad!

➤ Resumen: La idea de tener tu primer orgasmo hablando con un extraño atractivo a través del teléfono te asusta muchísimo, pero tal vez no sea tan malo como crees, después de todo, Min Yoongi era el mejor en su trabajo.

♥︎ softpxachy's

⤷ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ instagram

Delight no siempre había sido una empresa reconocida y tolerada por mucha gente. La primera vez que lanzaron su sitio web, la gente se sintió intrigada por esa llamada "línea directa de sexo telefonico", y era esperarse que muchos se mostraran escépticos y disgustados por la idea general de su concepto.

Pero no hasta que una persona, alguien que no había sido bendecido con el premio gordo de la vida, decidió intentarlo y solicitar el trabajo. Y eso cambió todo.

A Yoongi simplemente le importaba un carajo que la gente lo señalara por postularse para ser un operador de sexo telefónico. Estaba ganando dinero desde la distancia sin esforzarse tanto como una persona promedio lo haría en un trabajo mediocre, ¿Quién no querría el tipo de trabajo que él tenía?

Y fue entonces cuando apareció el nombre 'Suga' en la plataforma, convirtiéndose en una demanda popular de los clientes por encima de otros empleados.

Y Yoongi lo había disfrutado, demasiado, sabía de antemano que él había sacado a flote una empresa condenada al fracaso y que ahora era quién la mantenía viva, él y su afilada lengua, muchas veces fue glorificado por su trabajo y su jefe nunca dudaba en decir eso frente a los otros empleados, ganádose solo los celos y la envidia de los demás empleados por ser considerado el favorito del jefe.

— Que se jodan.— Yoongi respondía de forma arrogante cada que escuchaba las quejas de sus compañeros de trabajo sobre la supuesta injusticia laboral que sufrían.— Deberían ser mejores en su trabajo.

Había estado viviendo los mejores momentos de su vida sin duda alguna, disfrutando con el hecho de hacer que las personas se retorcieran de placer a kilómetros de distancia de él con unas simples palabras que lograban desatar todas sus fantasias mas oscuras, había disfrutado de esa sensación de poder, atención y halagos que recibía por su buen trabajo, pero bien dicen que lo que fácil llega, fácil se va.

Ahora sentía como si todo lo que había logrado en Delight hubiera sido un solo momento de euforia que ahora se había acabado, porque ya no se sentía igual que cuando comenzó con este trabajo.

Ya no sentía esa sensación de adrenalina correr por sus venas cada que escuchaba el tono de llamaba de su número de trabajo, era como si esa sensación de satisfacción y poder se hubiera reducido a nada, como si la rutina de cada día lo hubiera consumido por completo, ya sin siquiera hacerlo sentir placer con lo que hacía, y odiaba admitirlo, pero se sentía como si solo fuera combustible de fantasía para los clientes que pagaban por escucharlo.

Era su trabajo, sí, pero mentiría si dijera que ahora se sentía como una tarea que debía cumplir.

Había una distancia entre él y los demás que de alguna manera detestaba ahora.

Antes, Yoongi encontraba esa desconexión como un consuelo, creía que podía ir y venir cuando quisiera. Se divertiría con los demás en una proximidad lo suficientemente segura como para perder el tiempo sin temor a contraer sentimientos serios y poder mantener su trabajo. Era un plan sólido, hasta que dejó de serlo.

Todo lo que Yoongi anhelaba ahora era esa chispa entre él y otra persona, tener alguien con quién hablar de cosas banales sobre su día y no solo tener que escucharlos gemir a través del teléfono. Y cuanto más tiempo pensaba en eso, más se daba cuenta de lo solo que estaba.

Los ruidosos gemidos al otro lado de la línea lo hicieron formar una mueca y alejar considerablemente el teléfono de su oído, eran tan ensordecedores, mucho más exagerados que si estuviera viendo una película porno, y esa simple situación estaba agotando su paciencia poco a poco. Podía haber sido lo que él quería antes, la distancia, la capacidad de mantenerse inalcanzable, pero ahora se está convirtiendo en algo molesto.

— Relájate bebé, no querrás que tus vecinos te escuchen ¿verdad? — Habló por lo bajo en una sutil amenaza cubierta en una voz ronca, agradeciendo internamente que los lamentos de su clienta al otro lado del teléfono se detuvieran casi por completo.

Y lo siguiente que vinieron fueron los mismos halagos de siempre, agradeciendo haberle hecho pasar un buen momento y rogando su atención de nuevo para la próxima llamada, pero todo lo que pudo hacer fue forzar una amplia sonrisa y encogerse de hombros ante sus palabras justo antes de que toda su máscara se desmoronara cuando terminó la primera llamada de la noche.

Su teléfono se deslizó por la mesa en el centro de la sala cuando lo lanzó sin cuidado, elevando ambas de sus manos para frotar su rostro y suspirar con frustración como lo había hecho en los últimos días, su mirada se desvió hacia su entrepierna y bufó aún más molesto. ¡Ni siquiera habia tenido una jodida erección!

Era realmente divertido como las cosas habían cambiado en un mes, hacer la misma rutina agotadora cada vez le costaba más, después de dos años de estar trabajando para Delight estaba considerando seriamente renunciar al trabajo en el que ya no podía volver a encontrar el mismo placer que sentía antes. Y sabía muy bien que el que estuviera considerando esa idea tenía mucho que ver con una persona, específicamente con T/n.

Supo que estaba completamente jodido desde el primer momento en que se dio cuenta que no podía dejar de pensar en ella, en la forma tan inusual en que llamó a su línea de trabajo,y en cómo se escuchaba tan avergonzada después de que lo supo, había sido lindo, demasiado para hacerlo sonreír después de mucho tiempo de no hacerlo.

Pero lo que simplemente no podía olvidar era su suave y dócil voz con la que lo llamaba y el título que había utilizado para él, era como si aún pudiera escuchar su respiración agitada a través del teléfono, sus gemidos, el simple hecho de recordar que él había sido el primer hombre en hacerla sentir bien, y en lo dulce que se escuchó cuando la hizo tener su primer orgasmo.

Sabia que eso simplemente había alimentado por demás su ego, pero habia algo más y él no podia comprenderlo del todo, T/n tenía algo mas que lo hacía quererla sólo para él, lejos de la forma tan adorable en que ella le había preguntado si podian conocerse en persona, lo entusiasmada que se escuchaba con la simple idea lo seguía atormentando por las noches, sintiéndose como un idiota por la forma tan cobarde que huyó de ella y de algo que él tambien quería.

Y ahora aquí estaba, mirando con desdén el sobre grueso y blanco con su paga mensual por su trabajo y con la mente llena con el recuerdo de T/n, sabía que estaba en las mismas circunstancias, porque sí, joder, la quería, la deseaba y necesitaba, pero sabía que había arruinado todo y que tendría que vivir con eso desde la última vez que habló con ella hace un mes.

Volvió a gruñir frustrado mientras se ponía de pie del sofá donde estaba para servirse un poco de Whisky y ponerse de buen humor para sus próximos clientes, sabiendo que incluso el mínimo requería un cierto grado de esfuerzo y él ya se sentía más agotado que otros días.

Pero su línea se reabriría de nuevo en diez minutos y debía cumpir con su trabajo mientras se preguntaba cuáles podrían ser los interés de su próximo cliente, qué podría hacer para complacerlo y qué podría decirle, estando seguro que al final tendría que conformarse con una paja mal hecha que intentara llenar el vac��o dentro de él.

T/n se arrepentía de muchas cosas en su vida.

Cómo no haber organizado una grandiosa fiesta de cumpleaños número dieciocho para celebrar su legalidad, cómo no socializar lo suficiente como para tener un gran círculo de amigos que la sacaran de vez en cuando de su encierro en su departamento. y de cómo había tirado el trozo de papel con el número de teléfono de Yoongi hace unas semanas.

Mentiría si dijera que no había estado tan avergonzada después de todo lo que había pasado con él, podía sentir un nivel de humillación que no creía que un ser humano pudiera sentir. Pero ella lo sentía.

Qué estúpido de su parte habia sido pedirle que se concieran en persona. ¿Para qué? ¿Para que la pudiera follar? ¿Estaba tan caliente que permitió que sus sucios deseos tomaran control sobre ella?

Sí, bueno, había sido una completa tonta con sus palabras, pero lo que aún le seguía dando vueltas a su cabeza fue lo que Yoongi dijo justo antes de terminar la llamada.

"Lo pensaré."

¿No era esa una buena forma de decir "no"?

Pero aún así, no había forma de que volviera a hablar con él y pedirle una explicación o aunque sea disculparse por dejarse ver como una urgida. Su teléfono no habia guardado su contacto y queriendo olvidar todo lo que habia pasado, simplemente tiró la tarjeta a la basura.

No sabía si culparse a sí misma por querer escuchar su voz una vez más, por querer revivir los sentimientos que tenía cada vez que Yoongi le hablaba con esa voz tan sensual, incluso si era simplemente para poder disculparse, T/n anhelaba ser cautivada una vez más con su voz.

Se encogió de hombros mientras desconectaba su computadora de su escritorio para pasarse a su cama sin darle muchas vueltas al asunto.

— Soy una perra desesperada, pero está bien.— Habló sarcásticamente mientras abría el navegador, respirando profundo para tomar algo de valor.— Todo lo que tengo que hacer ahora es disculparme. Eso es todo.

Se sentía incluso más nerviosa que esta tarde cuando decidió que debia ponerle fin a todo esto que tuvo con Yoongi y tratar de buscar la empresa en la que trabajaba para disculparse y poder dormir en paz por las noches, sus manos sudaban mientras escribía en el buscador "línea directa de sexo", inmediatamente apareció un sitio llamado Delight como el enlace superior y cuando le dio clic al texto resaltado en azul se sorprendió aún más.

— Dios…— Resopló de forma temblorosa preguntándose cómo era que a las 7 p.m de un domingo se encontraba desplazándose por este sitio web.

En la página principal podía ver una línea directa etiquetada como "perfiles de operador" y cuando dio clic alrededor de 10 perfiles de operadores se desplegaron ante sus ojos, cada uno en orden de acuerdo al puntaje de estrellas que recibían de los clientes, y el primer perfil era el de Suga con una calificación de 5 estrellas y con cientos de opiniones de diferentes clientes; hombres y mujeres por igual.

Le fue imposible no sonrojarse viendo una que otra de las opiniones donde halagaban sus servicios, sorprendiéndose con lo abiertos que eran los usuarios de la página, pero de igual no podía negarlo, Yoongi era realmente bueno en su trabajo, lo había comprobado por sí misma aunque no hubiera sido una clienta como tal, y sintió su corazón latir con fuerza en su pecho mientras marcaba en su teléfono cada número que estaba en la plataforma, sin saber si estaba mental y físicamente preparada para lo que estaba a punto de hacer.

Yoongi ya iba por su segunda copa de Whisky de la noche, y agradecía internamente que fuera demasiado tolerante con el alcohol para decidir seguir trabajando con los clientes que tenía en espera en lugar de mandar todo a la mierda e irse a dormir.

Suspiró pesadamente mientras le daba un último vistazo a la gran vista de la ventana hacia la ciudad nocturna debajo de él, viendo el bullicio de los vehiculos y de la gente vivir sus vidas en paz antes de volverse hacia su sofa y tomar asiento, ya estaba sin camisa y solo vestia un par de pantalones negros, las luces de la sala era tenues y la musica sonaba de fondo, lo que ayudó a construir una buena atmosfera como lo hacia cada noche.

El tono de llamada volvió a resonar en toda la habitación y dejó el vaso de cristal en la mesita frente a él mientras respiraba hondo, como si su cerebro encendiera un interruptor su actitud arrogante y sensual regresó a su cuerpo en un abrir y cerrar de ojos mientras levantaba el teléfono para contestar.

— Buenas noches cariño.— Respondió por lo bajo, haciendo todo lo posible por entrar en personaje, y no pudo evitar fruncir el ceño cuando el otro lado de la línea se quedó en silencio.— ¿Hola? ¿Puedes oírme claramente, querida?

Y aún así, el silencio seguía predominando.

Yoongi no estaba sorprendido por eso, e involuntariamente sonrió al recordar que así fue como conoció a T/n, se rió por lo bajo de eso y cuando estaba a punto de hablar, lo siguiente que escuchó lo tomó por sorpresa antes de que pudiera pronunciar alguna palabra.

— ¿Yoongi?

Y con eso se quedó boquiabierto cuando se dio cuenta de que el cliente sabía su verdadero nombre, entró en pánico, sin saber si alguien se había entrometido en su privacidad o si era un acosador espeluznante.

Ahora, fue su turno de quedarse sin palabras.

— Yoongi... soy T/n.

Y Yoongi sintió una puñalada clavarsele en el pecho. Había estado intentando olvidar lo que pasó entre ustedes dos durante las últimas semanas, sin poder dejar de pensar en ella, y ahora de repente todos esos recuerdos le volvieron a inundar la mente.

Ya había cometido el error de huir de ella cuando le preguntó si podían verse, pero con lo siguiente que dijo fue como si estuviera actuando solo por impulso y con la sorpresa del momento.

— ¿T/n? — Balbuceó de a poco, aun sin poder creer que estaba hablando de nuevo con ella.— T/n, ya te dije...

— ¡Escucha! — T/n respondió de inmediato, sin darle oportunidad de que volviera a alejarse.— Sé que probablemente este no sea el momento adecuado, pero quiero pedirte perdón por...

— Sí, T/n, ahora no es el momento.— Yoongi la cortó de repente, inclinando la cabeza hacia atrás y desplomándose sobre el sofá.— Estoy tratando de trabajar.

Y tan pronto como dijo eso ni siquiera pudo luchar contra el impulso de querer golpearse el rostro, ¿de verdad había dicho eso? Después de estarse quejando de su trabajo durante semanas, ¿lo había vuelto a poner primero antes que ella?

Con eso solo volvió a corroborar que era un idiota, y se sintió así aún más cuando escuchó a T/n murmurar un pequeño y debil “lo siento” a traves del telefono, era como si pudiera imaginarla encogida en su cama y con un puchero en los labios por sus palabras disculpandose por haberlo molestado, cuando él era el que debia disculparse con ella por todo lo que habia pasado.

— Esta bien bebé, lo entiendo…— Comenzó a hablar despacio mientras se pasaba una mano por su cabello negro.— Y yo también lo siento, lo último que dije la otra vez fue un movimiento idiota, solo estaba pensando en mi trabajo.

Y con eso T/n se permitiò escucharlo atentamente, asintiendo a sus palabras como si él pudiera verla, sonriendo al escuchar ese bonito apodo brotar de sus labios y sintiendo como su voz tan calmada y serena viajaba por su cuerpo como si fuera una manta cubriendola y haciéndola entrar en calor, sin poder evitar admitir que había extrañado demasiado esa sensación.

— Pero, dijiste que pensarías sobre eso…— T/n murmuró poco después sintiendo como el entusiasmo volvía a ella y atreviéndose a mencionar eso de nuevo con la pequeña esperanza de que él también lo quisiera tanto como ella.

Y aparentemente estaba en lo correcto, porque una sonrisa felina se dibujó en los labios de Yoongi al escucharla, y decidió llevar la llamada por una ruta diferente, viendo si podía usar esto a su favor para hacerlos pasar un buen rato ahora que se daba cuenta de cuánto había extrañado hablar con ella y queriendo aprovechar esta llamada al máximo.

— ¿Cuánto tiempo has estado pensando en mí, bebé? — Preguntó con su voz volviéndose grave y ronca, ensanchando su sonrisa al escuchar un leve suspiro al otro lado de la línea.— ¿No me digas que ya has dejado de pensar en lo que puedo hacerte?

Y ante eso T/n tuvo que morder su labio para intentar reprimir los pequeños gemidos que amenazaban con salir de su boca, siempre iba a estar sorprendida del increíble poder que tenía su voz en ella, de cómo se derretía ante sus palabras y de cómo su respiración se aceleraba con solo escucharlo.

Yoongi era como ese néctar de placer al que siempre quieres regresar para poder disfrutar un poco más, y por supuesto que no negaría sus preguntas, todas las noches después de sus calientes encuentros por medio del teléfono se encontraba sobre su cama y con la mano entre sus piernas intentando volver a sentir lo que sintió con él hablándole al oído, pero como era de esperarse, ninguna de esas veces lo logro, y eso solo la hacía desearlo aún más.

Yoongi solo sonrió aún más al no recibir una respuesta de ella, solo disfrutando con el sonido de su acelerada respiración, casi pudiendo imaginar que era lo que T/n debía estar sintiendo en este preciso momento

— A decir verdad, T/n, yo no podía dejar de pensar en ti. Si tan solo supieras lo horrible que me sentí cortándote así.— Yoongi volvió a hablar, usando esa voz tan sensual y sabiendo perfectamente el efecto que tenía sobre ella solo para ver hasta dónde podía llegar.

— Supongo que ambos somos culpables de algo, ¿eh? — T/n respondió de igual forma, todavía tratando de acostumbrarse a escucharlo después de tanto tiempo.— Pero eso es todo lo que tengo que decir. Yo... puedo dejarte con tu trabajo ahora, supongo que tienes toda una fila esperando por ti.— Agregó con calma y su voz se desvaneció al final de su oración.

Y esa fue la señal que Yoongi esperaba, una bombilla apareció en la parte superior de su cabeza, con una idea nadando en su mente sobre lo que podía hacer con ella, no podía dejar que esta llamada se desperdiciara, sin saber si esta podría ser la ultima vez que hablaría con ella y que escucharía su dulce voz.

— ¿Crees que voy a dejarte ir así? — Yoongi murmuró roncamente después de escuchar sus palabras y solo para agregar en medio de un gemido ahogado.— ¿Sin hacerte pasar un buen rato? ¿Qué dices, bebé?

Era como si con con cada palabra Yoongi le estuviera hablando como si fuera la primera vez, y T/n pudo sentir como los latidos de su corazón se volvieron más rápidos y acelerados, estaba volviendo a usar esa voz que tanto adoraba en secreto y simplemente dejó que su mente se sometiera a sus deseos y que sus fantasías hicieran lo que quisieran con su cuerpo.

— Aw, sé que quieres, T/n. No seas tímida, sé que ha pasado un tiempo desde que escuchaste mi voz. ¿No quieres que te hable sucio? — Yoongi volvió a provocarla, pero era como si los efectos estuvieran actuando de forma contraproducente en él porque todo su cuerpo se calentó en un santiamén cuando la escucho soltar un rápido y silencioso gemido por lo bajo, haciéndolo sonreír de forma arrogante y sentir como toda la adrenalina volvía a apoderarse de él.— ¿Mhm? ¿Ese pequeño gemido es un sí? ¿Quieres que te hable sucio y te ayude a correrte, bebé?

T/n suspiró temblorosamente mientras se acomodaba mejor sobre la cama, apoyando su cabeza en las almohadas solo para cerrar sus ojos por un breve momento, estaba aquí, ésto estaba ocurriendo de nuevo, y no había un solo nervio en su cuerpo que quisiera detenerse, así que se obligó a cerrar sus piernas juntas por la necesidad de sentir un poco de fricción ahí abajo con lo siguiente que dijo.

— Sí, por favor.

Yoongi chasqueó su lengua al otro lado de la línea al mismo tiempo que inclinaba su cabeza hacia un lado en señal de molestia.— Niña mala. ¿Ya has olvidado cómo llamarme?

— No, lo siento señor.— T/n se corrigió de inmediato, sin poder evitar arrastrar su pijama hasta sus rodillas para poder acariciar la parte interna de sus muslos de a poco, sintiendo su piel caliente y ansiosa.

— Joder, me encanta que me llames asi.— Yoongi soltó un gemido de satisfacción después de escucharla, dejando caer su cabeza hacia atrás sobre el respaldo del sofá y sintiendo como toda la sangre de su cuerpo se concentraba en su entrepierna.— Siempre tan obediente y educada conmigo, creo que necesitas saber cómo tu dulce voz hace que mi polla se ponga dura por ti.— Y con eso volvió a escuchar otro gemido manso brotar de sus labios, instandolo a continuar hablando con una sonrisa arrogante.— Me imagino lo desesperada que debes de estar por sentir mi polla follando tu pequeño y apretado coño, porque eso es lo que quieres ¿verdad?

— Sí, señor…— T/n suspiró esas dos palabras mientras su mano subía por sus piernas, llegando al lugar deseado solo dejar que sus dedos se deslizaran lentamente por encima de su núcleo vestido, sintiendo un escalofrío recorrer su cuerpo cuando escuchó un gemido gutural brotar de él seguido de un profundo suspiro.

¿Él tambien se estaba tocando? Joder, si estaba en lo correcto T/n pudo jurar que sintió como si una oleada de calor la hubiera golpeado de repente, todo su cuerpo se sentia extremadamente caliente y necesitado y le fue imposible no enredar sus dedos en el borde de su blusa para quitarsela, arrepintiendose casi de inmediato cuando escucho a Yoongi chistar molesto.

— ¿Ya te estás desvistiendo sin que yo te lo haya dicho? — Yoongi se burló con un tinte de advertencia en su voz que rápidamente fue remplazado por una neblina de deseo al imaginar todo su cuerpo desnudo, con sus senos al aire libre y sus bragas empapadas mientras lo esperabas tendida en su cama, y fue esa misma imagen mental la que lo hizo comenzar a palmearse su pene medio duro por encima de sus pantalones.— ¿Puedes hacerme un favor y jugar con tus tetas, bebé?

Yoongi pidio en medio de un suspiro tembloroso que hizo que T/n obedeciera de inmediato a su orden, poniendo su teléfono en altavoz para elevar sus manos hacia su pecho, jadeando con fuerza cuando deslizó la punta de sus dedos alrededor de sus duros pezones, amasando cada uno de sus senos con la presión perfecta haciéndola arquear su espalda; prácticamente retorciéndose sobre su cama y apretando sus muslos juntos, sintiendo como el calor en su entrepierna aumentara incontrolablemente, obligándose a morderse el labio inferior para tratar de ocultar sus vergonzosos gemidos y fallando olimpicamnete en el intento.

— ¿Alguna vez te tocaste pensando en mi, bebé? — Yoongi pregunto después de unos segundos queriendo saber si ella había pasado por lo mismo que él; disfrutando en silencio de su respiración laboriosa y sus suaves gemidos, jugando consigo mismo debajo de sus pantalones, con sus largos dedos frotando fácilmente toda la circunferencia de su pene erecto aún atrapado en su boxer.

— Lo intenté…— T/n susurro a medias, con su mente volviendo a esos momentos en los que Yoongi la hacía sentir increíblemente húmeda con solo su voz cuando hablaba con él, aun cuestionandose como era posible que un hombre detrás de un teléfono tuviera tanto efecto en ella.— Lo intenté, pero no era tan bueno…

— ¿En realidad? ¿Prefieres que yo te ayude?— Yoongi sonrió ante tus palabras y ante el bonito gemido que se escuchó al otro lado, haciéndolo sacar su pene de su confinamiento y viendo su erección salir disparada hacia arriba y golpear su abdomen ligeramente, sin poder evitar morderse el labio ante la vista, hacia tanto tiempo que no tenía una buena erección y ahora T/n lo había logrado tan fácilmente.

— Joder, sí…— T/n respondió con su voz temblorosa y mientras arrastraba su mano por toda su entrada, jugando con sus pliegues humedos por encima de la tela; ejerciendo un poco de presión sobre su clítoris solo para que sus caderas se sacudieran con placer y haciendola respirar con dificultad.— Mhm ¿puedo tocarme, señor?

Y Yoongi gruño a través de su labio inferior mordido, con sus cejas fruncidas y con sus dedos moviéndose con más fuerza sobre su dura longitud, eras una chica tan buena para él, y lo ponía duro como una piedra concebir que una chica tan linda como tú pudiera someterse fácilmente a una de sus charlas sucias, solo haciéndolo esparcir el líquido preseminal que brotaba de la punta de su pene por todo lo largo, imaginando que era tu humedad la que lo cubría.

— Ow bebé…— Yoongi bromeó con arrogancia y solo escuchandola quejarse por lo bajo de sus burlas.— ¿Quieres tocarte ahí abajo con mi ayuda?

— Sí, sí…— T/n respondió rápidamente, casi jadeando mientras las puntas de sus dedos se movían entre sus pliegues, chillando por lo bajo sin tener una fricción real donde más lo necesitaba.— Por favor, señor. Por favor…

— ¿Y qué te hace pensar que te mereces mi ayuda, hm? — Yoongi preguntó con su voz áspera, deteniendo los movimientos en su pene y escuchando el susurro confundido brotar de sus labios.

— P-pero…— T/n balbuceó sin entender sus palabras, sintiendo una serie de fuertes escalofríos recorrer su cuerpo una vez más.

— Puedo dejarte aquí, ahora mismo, terminar esta maldita llamada como si hablar contigo nunca hubiera pasado.— Yoongi habló con desdén riendo por lo bajo de la forma en que la escuchó removerse sobre la cama y dejar escapar otro gemido lastimero ante sus palabras.— Eres como una pequeña gatita, siempre lloriqueando en lugar de decir lo que diablos quiere.

¿Cómo se habia vuelto tan degradante de repente?

La mente de T/n estaba haciendo todo lo posible para pensar en una respuesta a su pregunta anterior, y, afortunadamente, Yoongi espero paciente.

— He sido buena, señor…— Respondió poco después, no queriendo hacerlo esperar demasiado y que se molestara por eso antes de sobresaltarse sobre la cama al escucharlo reír burlonamente.

— ¿Buena? Claro, has sido una buena niña.— Yoongi reaccionó arrogante ante su respuesta soltando el agarre en su miembro y viéndolo rebotar levemente sobre su vientre.— Me he encontrado con muchas de ellas en el pasado, cariño. Todas estaban llenas de palabras, pero no podían soportar ser jodidamente obedientes. ¿Cómo puedes ser diferente, eh? ¿Cómo puedo saber que no me estás mintiendo?

T/n quería golpear una pared por la forma en que se estaba burlando de ella, y su espalda se arqueó sin darse cuenta, reprimiendo un grito de frustración al escucharlo reír sutilmente ante su reacción.

— Sabes, escucharte toda ansiosa y necesitada, escuchar las sábanas debajo de ti moverse mientras tu cuerpo se retuerce es música para mis oídos, será mejor que no te toques, T/n. ¿Quieres ser una buena niña? Entonces espera mis instrucciones, ¿entendido?

— Sí, señor.— T/n respondió en un santiamén a sus palabras, alejando sus manos por completo de entre sus piernas.

Oh, Yoongi nunca se cansaria de escuchar la forma en que decias esas dos palabras.

— Más fuerte.— Demandó endureciendo el tono de su voz.

Otro jadeo tembloroso dejó los labios de T/n al escucharlo, sabía muy bien que Yoongi estaba en su estado más dominante y eso solo la hacía querer darle todo lo que pidiera, y le encantaba, jodidamente que le encantaba.

— Sí, señor.— Expresó una vez más, más fuerte que la anterior.

Yoongi no solo estaba cautivado con ella y con su afán de querer complacerlo, sino que se sentía diferente cuando hablaba con ella a comparación de otros clientes y no podía negar que sentía un cariño especial, era como si estuviera hablando con alguien personal para él, y no solo con un extraño, todo era mas intimo con ella.

— Muy bien…— Murmuró poco después, mientras que con uno de sus dedos trazaba la longitud palpitante de su miembro; provocándose desde la base hasta la punta, impaciente por escuchar sus encantadores gemidos, pero aún así se las arregló para seguir hablando.— Sabes, T/n, quiero saber más sobre ti.

— ¿Oh? ¿A qué te refieres? — T/n preguntó un tanto confundida, casi sintiendo como su excitación inicial se iba esfumando de su cuerpo.

— Tienes que decirme lo que te gusta, cariño. Lo que te excita, las fantasías que tienes almacenadas en esa sucia cabecita tuya.— Yoongi habló con una voz tan baja, tan profunda y tan sensual que T/n ni siquiera pudo evitar sentir como una descarga de adrenalina corría por sus venas y como el familiar cosquilleo se acentuaba entre sus piernas una vez más.

Inmediatamente su rostro se sonrojo y su respiración se agitó al darse cuenta de lo que estaba pidiendo, esta era la primera vez que un hombre le preguntaba cuales eran sus deseos y, si era completamente sincera, T/n tenia las fantasías más oscuras y sucias para alguien que nunca antes habia tenido sexo.

— No puedo ayudarte si no me lo dices, bebé. Vamos, dime lo que te gusta y tal vez…— Yoongi volvió a hablar justo antes de hacer una pausa y morderse el labio inferior ante lo que siguiente que dijo.— Tal vez podemos hacer que cobren vida.

Y T/n pudo jurar que casi jadeó al escucharlo, sus cejas se arrugaron dándose cuenta de lo excitada que estaba de nuevo y sus caderas se agitaron sobre la cama necesitando un poco de fricción en su clítoris, la forma en que Yoongi hablaba solo alimentaba aún más su deseo de él, y sabía que si no podía tenerlo pronto se volvería loca.

— ¿Cobren vida? — T/n preguntó retóricamente mientras pasaba la punta de su lengua por sus labios, sonriendo con complicidad queriendo escucharlo decir lo que tanto necesitaba.— ¿Qué está insinuando, señor?

Yoongi podía sentirla sonriendo al otro lado de la línea mientras decía esas palabras, haciéndolo sonreír de la misma forma; contento con la repentina confianza en su tono de voz generalmente manso que tanto adoraba.

— Niña, estoy insinuando que vengas para que finalmente pueda hacer que mi lengua pruebe tu dulce coño.

Y con eso T/n ni siquiera pudo evitar jadear con fuerza, sintiendo como si con esas palabras hubiera activado un botón de deseo duplicado dentro de ella, y haciendo que Yoongi sonriera aún más al escucharla.

Completamente seguro de que él quiso decir cada palabra que dijo.

Él la necesitaba, y ya le importa un carajo todo lo demás.

T/n no podía hacer que sus pies se quedaran quietos mientras rebotaban constantemente bajo el escritorio, sus ojos miraban el reloj sobre la pizarra cada minuto como si pudiera hacer que el tiempo avanzara mas rapido. Quedaban diez minutos antes de que terminara su última clase, irónicamente con la profesora Kim, y con eso ya habría terminado con sus clases del día de hoy, y eso significaba que finalmente conocería a Yoongi.

Nunca pensó que terminaría así, una chica universitaria virgen que anhelaba a un hombre que nunca antes había visto, pero Yoongi lo había logrado, había logrado que se enamorara completamente de él con solo su voz.

T/n no dejaba de pensar en qué aspecto tendría Yoongi, si su voz era tan profunda y erótica en la vida real o solo lo era a través del teléfono, pero en lo que más podía pensar era en cómo se sentirían sus manos en sobre ella, apretándola contra su cuerpo mientras se encargaba de murmurar todas esas palabras lascivas contra su oído, haciéndola temblar con cada sílaba que pronunciara como tantas veces había soñado. Esa simple idea hacía que su cabeza diera mil vueltas, solo haciéndola sentir cada vez más ansiosa y desesperada.

— Oye, no hagas eso.— Una voz al otro lado de ella la hizo salir de su torrente de pensamientos sucios sobre Yoongi, y cuando se giró hacia la izquierda para mirar al dueño de esa voz se encontró con un chico de cabello largo y negro, mirandola con ojos de gacela con sumo cuidado antes de volver a hablar.— ¿Estas bien?

— Si, lo siento.— T/n musitó por lo bajo deteniendo el movimiento de su pierna y encogiéndose en su asiento con vergüenza como si el hombre al lado de ella supiera cada uno de sus pensamientos.— No quise molestarte.

— No, no, no es nada. He leído en alguna parte que mover la pierna continuamente es un signo de ansiedad... o algo así.— El chico sonrió mostrando sus dientes antes de resoplar nerviosamente.— Soy Jungkook.

Esto era tan aleatorio. T/n había estado sentada al lado de este chico durante toda la clase sin haber cruzado ni una sola palabra y ahora se estaba presentando a ella.

— Soy T/n, un gusto conocerte.— Respondió cortésmente al mismo tiempo que la campana de final de clases se escuchaba por toda la escuela, regresando los nervios a su cuerpo y haciéndola ponerse de pie para recoger todas su cosas y salir lo más pronto posible, evitando más interacciones con Jungkook.

— Oye…

Su voz la detuvo de nuevo justo cuando estaba a punto de bajar las escaleras hacía la salida de la escuela, y cuando T/n se dio la vuelta hacía él casi estuvo a punto de suspirar por lo increíblemente guapo que era viéndolo pasar una mano por su cabello espeso; peinandolo hacia atrás antes de hablar.

— ¿Tal vez podríamos conocernos algún día?

Yoongi.

Tenía que ver a Yoongi.

—Uhm bueno…— T/n murmuró evitando el contacto visual con él, recordando que Yoongi la estaba esperando fuera de la escuela.— Lo pensaré, Jungkook.

Y antes de que pudiera decir algo mas T/n prácticamente salió corriendo hacia la puerta, frunciendo lo labios al darse cuenta de que acababa de rechazar a un hombre como Jungkook, pero ahora en todo lo que podía pensar era en Yoongi.

Yoongi le había enviado un mensaje de texto para que se encontraran en la biblioteca justo afuera de su universidad, y ahí estaba, sentando en uno de los bancos fuera del lugar con las piernas cruzadas mientras jugueteaba con su teléfono.

Al igual que T/n, él también se preguntaba cómo se vería ella, y sin embargo, él estaba seguro que sería tan hermosa como lo era su voz, y tenía ese pensamiento mientras escaneaba la multitud de estudiantes que salía de la universidad, tratando de adivinar quién eras en esa masa de personas.

Le envío otro mensaje con un simple "Te llamare”, y en cuestión de segundos, su corazón comenzó a acelerarse mientras caminaba hacia la biblioteca marcando su numero para llamarla, sabría instantáneamente dónde estaría T/n tan pronto como se llevara el teléfono a la oreja, y efectivamente así fue.

— Estoy justo aquí, bebé.— Yoongi habló a través del teléfono centrando su atención y su mirada en T/n quien juró que sintió una ola de mariposas revoloteando en su estómago al escuchar su voz resonando a través de su cuerpo.

Se dirigió de a poco hacia donde estaba sentado, viéndolo todavía con su teléfono contra su oreja y con sus ojos enfocados en ella sin dejar de mirarla con una sonrisa arrogante en todo su rostro, y T/n estaba rezando porque no se diera cuenta de la forma tan vergonzosa que su cuerpo estaba temblando de los nervios.

¿Realmente era él?

Dio unos cuantos pasos más hacia adelante hasta que estuvo prácticamente a medio metro de él, su mirada estaba clavada en ella y parecía que todo lo que la rodeaba la hacía aminorar la marcha.

— Yoongi…— T/n susurró por lo bajo, y él escuchó el suave sonido a través del teléfono.

— Mhm sí, ese soy yo.— Yoongi afirmó formando una sonrisa sin apartar los ojos de ella antes de levantarse bruscamente del asiento.— Acércate.— Demandó con el teléfono todavía presionado a su oreja, y T/n hizo lo que dijo, cerrando la brecha entre ustedes dos lentamente.— Más cerca.

Y mientras la veia acercarse mas a él Yoongi ni siquiera pudo evitar escanear su cuerpo de arriba hacía abajo con sus ojos, observando atentamente la forma en que sus curvas resaltaban bajo su ropa, era solo un poco más pequeña que él, sus ojos de muñeca dejaban de mirarlo con asombro y los de Yoongi se perdieron por completo en sus labios que se veían tan suaves, de repente sintió el deseo abrasador de poder besarlos para poder comprobar su teoría y las palmas de sus manos comenzaron a picar con la necesidad imperiosa de poder tocarla.

— Hermosa.— Yoongi susurró poco después, con su voz ahogada y lo suficientemente alto como para que T/n lo escuchara, haciéndolo ensanchar su sonrisa cuando noto como apartaba su mirada avergonzada de él.

La llamada terminó cuando estuvo finalmente frente a Yoongi y cuando él le extendió su mano para que la tomara, todo era diferente esta vez, esto estaba sucediendo en la vida real y T/n ya no estaba en la comodidad de su habitación hablando con él, Yoongi estaba con ella, físicamente presente, a punto de recibir su toque, como tantas veces había imaginado.

— No me dejes con la mano estirada, bebé.— Yoongi habló divertido y con su voz ronca, ensanchando su sonrisa hacia ella.

Oh, Dios. Su voz sonaba mucho mejor que por teléfono, tenía esa misma profundidad, ese tono que siempre hacía que su cuerpo temblara y se agitara de lujuria, y T/n se obligó a sacudir todo tu nerviosismo antes de tomar su mano y estrecharla con la suya.

Podría haber mentido, pero T/n estaba completamente segura que sintió una descarga eléctrica recorrer todo su cuerpo tan pronto como su mano tocó la de él, y se quedó procesando esa sensación mientras Yoongi la acercaba más hacia él, casi demasiado para poder notar la forma en que su mirada estaba pegada a sus labios, lamiendo lo suyos a cambio, y de alguna manera, era como si los dos se estuvieran tomando su tiempo para sumergirse en la presencia del otro entre las personas que seguían caminando a su alrededor.

�� ¿Está bien si envuelvo mis brazos alrededor de ti? — Yoongi ronroneó examinando su rostro en busca de una respuesta, desechando su creciente ego al notar que sus mejillas se ponían más rojas a cada segundo.— ¿Hm? — Instó mientras con su pulgar acariciaba sus nudillos con calidez y, con cada roce, T/n sentía su corazón latir más rápido a cada segundo.

T/n no respondió, más bien tomó su mano y la guío hacia su cintura, como si estuviera pidiendo en silencio que la tocara, y él gustoso lo hizo, envolviendo su mano alrededor de su cintura.— Puedes abrazarme, Yoongi.

Y sin dudarlo Yoongi usó ambas manos para acercarla por completo a él, presionando su cuerpo contra su pecho y eliminando por completo cualquier distancia entre los dos casi con urgencia.

— No sabes cuánto te he imaginado diciendo mi nombre, joder.— Murmuró con su voz baja, mirándola con avidez al mismo tiempo que frotaba sus pulgares en su cintura enviandole pequeñas descargas de placer por su cuerpo.— Eres tan jodidamente impresionante, bebé.

T/n prácticamente tuvo que reprimir un gemido que amenazaba salir de sus labios al escucharlo, sabia que no podia hacerlo en publico, pero era casi imposible no querer derretirse a sus pequeñas atenciones.

— Eres más de lo que esperaba…— Yoongi volvió a hablar mientras apoyaba su frente en la tuya, ajeno al hecho de que ambos están en público, mostrando afecto como si fueran un pareja, la estaba mirando profundamente a los ojos como si se conocieran desde hace mucho tiempo sin detener sus caricias en su piel.

¿Por qué lo haría después de todo cuando se moría por ponerle un dedo encima desde que la conoció?

— Eres un chica jodidamente hermosa.— Arrulló con su voz ronca al mismo tiempo que una de sus manos viajaba hacia arriba para sujetarla por su nuca con dureza, casi a punto de besarla de una buena vez.

— Aquí no, por favor…— T/n sollozó por lo bajo, abrumada con su imponente presencia y apartando su mirada de la de él; completamente sonrojada con sus palabras.

— Esa es la voz que me gusta escuchar.— Yoongi habló en medio de una sonrisa arrogante.— No puedo esperar a escuchar más de eso pronto.— Agregó separándose de a poco de ella para tomar una de sus manos y besarla suavemente bajo la mirada sorprendida de T/n.

Aún no podía comprender que esto realmente estaba sucediendo. Nada de esto hubiera ocurrido si T/n no hubiera recogido la nota de su profesora ese día con el número de teléfono de Yoongi. En cierto modo, sentía que le debía mucho a la profesora Kim, una parte de ti estaba contenta de que fueras tú quien experimentara el toque de Yoongi y muchas más cosas y no ella.

— Hay un bar a un par de cuadras de aquí. ¿Qué dices? — Yoongi habló mientras abría la puerta del pasajero de su auto para que pudiera entrar, pero antes de que pudiera tomar asiento frunció los labios hacia él.

— No estoy vestida para eso…— T/n murmuró por lo bajo, queriendo esconderse de su intensa mirada.

— T/n…— Yoongi chasqueó la lengua, sonando un poco decepcionado.— Eso no es un problema, lo sabes.— Agregó al mismo tiempo que con sus dedos aplicaba la cantidad correcta de presión en su barbilla para elevar su cabeza hacia el.

T/n lo miro con ojos grandes sin saberlo, y eso solo hizo que la mente de Yoongi funcionara con varios pensamientos. Pensamientos que no correspondían en este momento y se mordió el labio inferior por un momento antes de regresar a la realidad.

— No tienes que disfrazarte. Solo tienes que verte bien para mí, y en este momento…— Murmuró bajando el tono de su voz, inclinándose sobre su cuerpo para estar más cerca de ella, tanto que sus rostros casi se tocaban.— Te ves jodidamente deliciosa, especialmente con esta falda corta tuya. ¿Está permitido usar un material tan corto en la escuela?

— Está bien, está bien.— T/n exclamó suspirando mientras sentía como todo su rostro se calentaba una vez más antes de subirse de inmediato a su auto sin pensarlo dos veces y haciendo reír a Yoongi.

Era la primera vez que lo escuchaba reír así, casi aireado y con hipo, lo que le pareció realmente adorable; ese era un contraste total de la personalidad habitual que había visto en él, y creo una nota mental para poder hacerlo reír más a menudo.

Era como si Yoongi encajara perfectamente en el bar como si fuera allí cada vez que podía. Su atuendo era completamente negro y se ajustaba perfectamente a su cuerpo bien formado, y complementaba el aura tenue y sensual del bar.

T/n era todo lo contrario, y era ridículo: la imagen de ustedes dos caminando dentro del edificio y lo diferente que se veía a su lado, pero tan pronto como pensó en eso también lo olvidó cuando sintió la mano de Yoongi en su espalda baja, guiandola con firmeza por el bar cuando entraron y cuando fueron recibidos con música r&b retumbando por todo el lugar, T/n prácticamente tuvo que morder el interior de sus mejillas al sentir como sus dedos rozaban su piel expuesta de su cintura, imaginándose como se sentirian si subieran un poco más, y rápidamente salió de su burbuja de fantasías cuando volvió a hablar.

— ¿Tomas? — Yoongi preguntó tirando hacia atrás el taburete para que pudiera sentarse sin apartar su mirada de ella.

— Algunas veces.— T/n respondió tomando asiento y tirando de su falda hacia abajo cuando subió un poco más por sus piernas, y formó una mueca arrepintiéndose por habérsela puesto hoy, pero cuando elevó su mirada volvió a atrapar a Yoongi observando cada uno de sus movimientos con atención.— Deja de mirarme de esa forma.

— ¿O si no qué, hm? — Yoongi farfulló con arrogancia en su voz y sonriendo al verla suspirar, joder, acababan de entrar al bar y él ya le estaban dando ganas de correr a su casa.

Antes de que T/n pudiera decir algo más el bartender se acercó a ustedes dos con un brillo particular en sus ojos, e instantáneamente fijó su atención en ella, la comisura de su boca se levantó en una sonrisa sugerente mientras se apoyaba sobre el mostrador donde estaban, y casi por inercia los ojos de T/n se desviaron a sus brazos, viendo la forma en que las curvas de sus bíceps se marcaban aún más gracias a su camisa de vestir blanca y apretada.

Y por supuesto que Yoongi lo notó, pero opto por no decir nada.

— ¿Qué puedo conseguir para ti…

— Dos latas de cerveza.— Yoongi respondió antes de que pudiera decir algo más y haciendo que el bartender lo mirara solo para poner su mano derecha sobre tu rodilla expuesta.— Para mi niña y para mí.

Dios.

T/n apretó sus labios mientras agachaba su mirada hacia abajo, completamente sonrojada por la forma en que se refirió hacia ella, y solo pudo ver de reojo como el bartender enderezaba su postura mientras tosía incómodamente.

— Entendido, en un momento traeré su pedido.

Y tan pronto como se fue volviendo a dejarlos solos Yoongi acerco su taburete al de T/n, sus rodillas quedaron rozando las de ella mientras T/n seguia mirando hacia abajo.

— Mírame.— Yoongi ordenó poco después tomándola por su mentón para obligarla a mirarlo cuando se encontró con su rostro su mirada se poso de inmediato en sus labio entreabiertos,, casi a punto de mandar todo a la mierda y besarla ahí mismo.— ¿Nerviosa, bebé? — Preguntó con voz ronca mientras frotaba con su pulgar la suave piel de su mejilla sintiendo de inmediato como el calor se acumulaba en su palma.— No tienes porque estarlo, estamos aquí para divertirnos ¿no es así?

Y cuando finalmente T/n lo miró a los ojos a pesar de su nerviosismo entendió rápidamente que a Yoongi le gustaba tener un contacto visual con ella, seguramente disfrutando mientras la veía esforzarse para mantener su intensa mirada, porque realmente era así, a Yoongi le gustaba ver cómo su respiración se agitaba cada que estaba cerca y se excitaba terriblemente al verla tan perdida en sus iris oscuros.

— Eso es, buena chica.— Yoongi murmuró por lo bajo al mismo tiempo que deslizaba su pulgar hacia sus labios, acariciando sensualmente su labio inferior, haciéndolo sonreír al verla suspirar de forma temblorosa ante sus caricias.— Eres mi buena chica. De nadie más.

— Yoongi…- T/n hablo a medias, sin saber exactamente si fue un susurro o un gemido ahogado.— N-no…

— ¿No qué? — Yoongi demandó saber con aire de suficiencia.— ¿No quieres que te toque en público?

Y T/n simplemente pudo responder con un pequeño asentimiento, ¿pero le importó a Yoongi? Por supuesto que no, porque colocó su mano disponible sobre su pierna; arrastrandola por su piel desnuda de una forma tan lenta, pulgada a pulgada, las puntas de sus dedos rozaban su piel suavemente haciendo que todo su cuerpo se estremeciera y se removiera sobre el asiento al sentir el frío metálico de sus anillos, y Yoongi volvió a maravillarse con lo receptivo que era su cuerpo a él, solo invitándolo a avanzar.

— Odio decírtelo, bebé, pero me gusta verte temblar cuando te toco.— Yoongi farfulló antes de que la mano que estaba sosteniendo su mejilla se moviera hacia atrás para sostenerla por la parte posterior de su cuello.

Los ojos de T/n se abrieron de repente cuando lo sintió tomar un puñado de su cabello y tirar de su cabeza hacía atras lo suficiente para que su cuello quedara expuesto a él, sin poder lograr ocultar el pequeño gemido que amenzaba con salir de sus labios, y en cambio soltó un sonido lascivo reprimido, solo haciendo que los oídos de Yoongi se animaran en cuando lo escuchó.

Él empujó de su taburete para que estuviera más cerca, y lo logró, su rostro quedó peligrosamente a centímetros de la curva del cuello de T/n quién tembló al sentir su caliente respiración abanicando su piel tan sensible, la repentina proximidad y el ambiente sensual del bar estaban nublando la mente de Yoongi, quería tocarla por completo, quería tener sus manos por todo su cuerpo después de tanto tiempo de bromas, arrepintiéndose internamente de haberla llevado a un bar en lugar de conducir directamente a su casa y poder tenerla para él solo.

Su mano comenzó a jugar con el dobladillo de su falda, casi de forma burlona al principio, y solo haciendo que T/n dejara escapar una respiración temblorosa al sentirlo y rápidamente se apresuró a sostener su muñeca, sin aplicar ninguna presión, pero sí lo suficiente para recordarle su presencia, y al sentirlo los labios de Yoongi se curvaron en una sonrisa, acercándose más a ella para burlarse un poco más de su estado con lo siguiente que dijo.

— ¿Qué pasaría si te meto un dedo en el coño, aquí mismo, ahora mismo? — Ronroreó con esa voz rasposa que T/n tanto amaba contra su oído, los bordes de sus labios eran como fantasmas alrededor de su oreja e inconscientemente su interior se apretó alrededor de la nada, teniendo que morderse la lengua para ocultar un gemido vergonzoso ante sus palabras.

T/n tuvo la tentación de cerrar los ojos para poder perderse en sus sucias fantasías, pero su cerebro le recordó que la gente en el bar podría estar mirando, e inmediatamente su mirada escaneó el lugar en busca de posibles ojos al acecho, pero casi todos estaban borrachos o se ocupaban de sus propios asuntos como si hubieran visto cosas peores.

— Mira mi mano, T/n.— Yoongi ordenó refiriéndose a la mano que descansaba sobre su muslo, y su mirada rápidamente se posó en ella, suspirando de forma agitada al ver lo jodidamente sexy y grande que era, las venas se resaltaban sobre su piel y los anillos solo la hacían temblar y desear poder sentirlos un poco más arriba.

Mierda. T/n podía sentir el cosquilleo aumentando cada vez más entre sus piernas, podía sentir a la perfección la incómoda humedad manchando su ropa interior, solo haciéndola removerse en el asiento cuando sintió a Yoongi meter su mano debajo de su falda, la tela cubrió sus dedos casi por completo y con eso ni siquiera pudo evitar no sacudir sus caderas más hacia su mano levemente; rogando silenciosamente que subiera más, y por supuesto que Yoongi se dio cuenta, permitiéndose sonreír arrogante cuando sus ojos se volvieron a encontrar.

— Sé que quieres sentir mis dedos dentro de ti…— Yoongi susurró con su voz ronca sin dejar de frotar sus dedos en el interior de sus muslos, burlándose de ella cuando la escucho gemir suavemente mientras lo miraba con ojos necesitados.— Sé que quieres que te toque mientras estamos rodeados de toda esta gente.

T/n podía jurar que se estaba poniendo más y más húmeda mientras él seguia hablandole de esa forma en publico, donde existía la posibilidad de que la gente escuchara todo, y ahogó una maldición cuando su dedo índice apenas y rozó su clítoris por encima de la tela de sus bragas, mierda, esto era mucho mejor que estar hablando con él por teléfono.

— ¿Te gustaría eso, bebé? — Yoongi volvió a preguntar, sabiendo ya la respuesta.

Volvió a sonreír de forma arrogante cuando la vio asentir frenéticamente incapaz de articular alguna palabra justo antes de hundir su mano por completo entre sus piernas para presionar sus dedos directamente en su clítoris, haciendo que T/n diera un pequeño brinquito en su lugar y soltara un gemido ahogado ante el impacto del placer que viajó por sus nervios, haciéndolo reír mientras se alejaba por completo de ella; dejándola completamente sonrojada, caliente y sin aliento.

— Oh, mira…— Habló agarrando las dos latas de cerveza frente a ustedes dos antes de agregar con falsa inocencia en su voz.— Ese pobre mesero debió haber visto todo mientras no estábamos prestando atención, ¿no lo crees?

Él abrió una lata para ella, mientras T/n solo podía mirarlo boquiabierta, apenas procesando lo que acababa de pasar, ¿Realmente la estaba dejando así como si nada hubiera pasado?

Pero al contrario de sus pensamientos, Yoongi también estaba teniendo dificultades para controlar su creciente erección debajo de sus jeans, sintiendo como se presionaba más y más contra la tela casi de forma dolorosa, pero disimulando bien mientras se aclaraba la garganta.

— Salud, bebé.— Habló divertido chocando su lata con la de ella; haciendo un 'tintineo' silencioso antes de que su mirada volviera a oscurecerse cuando volvió a mirarla.— Cierra esa boca tuya, T/n. Antes de que le ponga algo que la llene.

Y con eso último T/n no pudo evitar volver a sonrojarse, e hizo todo lo posible por tratar de olvidarse de los que acababa de ocurrir mientras Yoongi comenzaba a tener una conversación normal con ella, pero era difícil tan difícil hacerlo cuando aun podía sentir sus manos sobre ella, y por supuesto que Yoong estaba disfrutando de esto, estaba disfrutando de su tiempo con ella, finalmente solo estaba inmerso en todo lo que tuviera que ver con T/n, sus ojos nunca se apartaban de los de ella y no podía evitar sonreír cada que la veía agachar su mirada avergonzada cuando decía algo lascivo.

A cada segundo que pasaba mas le gustaba estar con ella, le gustaba ver como sus ojos se iluminaban con ese brillo de inocencia cada vez que lo miraba y era como si quisiera que este momento no acabara, pero habia algo que lo regresaba de golpe a la realidad, la unica regla que Delight tenia para cada empleado seguia grabada en su mente, podia sentir como su cuerpo se tensaba cada vez que su consciencia pensaba en esa regla que justo ahora estaba rompiendo, y no sabia como decirle que lo que estaban haciendo en este momento estaba prohibido en su trabajo.

Pero de cierta forma, deseaba que alguien de su trabajo lo viera en este preciso momento, de ser posible su mismo jefe, joder, deseaba que lo despidieran ahora mismo para volver a tener una vida normal, no era un secreto que Yoongi no había tenido una relación seria en mucho tiempo, había tenido una que otra aventura de una sola noche, pero no románticas, eso no era lo suyo, pero ahora que estaba con ella era como si quisiera estar con ella de todas las formas posibles, la deseaba, la quería y la necesitaba y aún no podía entender porque, lo unico que sabía era que nunca había anhelado algo tanto como ahora, como a T/n

— ¿Alguna vez, eh, has hecho esto con alguien más? — T/n preguntó por lo bajo mirándolo de reojo y rompiendo un poco su burbuja de pensamientos.

— ¿A qué te refieres? — Yoongi cuestionó de igual forma, inclinando su cabeza hacia un lado con una sonrisa astuta en su rostro.

— No importa…

— ¿Estás preguntando si alguna vez he salido con alguien? Cariño, si querías saber mi número de citas podrías haberme preguntado…

— ¡No! ¡No es así! Bueno, quiero decir, sí, pero no quería preguntar directamente…— T/n respondió rápidamente sin saber donde esconderse de la vergüenza que sentía por sus palabras.

Y Yoongi simplemente sonrió mientras dejaba escapar una risa ronca antes de elevar su mano para pellizcar su mejilla enrojecida por el alcohol de forma divertida.

— Está bien. ¿Quieres saber si puedo hacer las cosas que te prometí por teléfono, eh? — Habló regresando a su sonrisa arrogante que había tenido todo este tiempo.— No te preocupes, T/n. No soy una estafa.

Y con eso T/n solo pudo morder su labio inferior inconscientemente, sabía que la estaba molestando con sus palabras, pero su mente solo podía actuar por sí sola, imaginando como se sentiria estar debajo de él con su calor cubriendola por completo y su cuerpo presionandose contra ella, sujetándola contra la cama y haciéndola gemir su nombre.

— Pero sinceramente…— Yoongi volvió a hablar, con seriedad ahora, y T/n se preguntó cómo era posible que pudiera pasar de su tono burlón a uno tan serio en un abrir y cerrar de ojos.— No tengo muchas relaciones en estos días, solo me enfoco en el trabajo.

— Oh, ¿entonces no tienes sexo? — T/n preguntó como si nada levantando sus cejas hacia él.

Y Yoongi se contuvo increíblemente de soltar un comentario sarcástico. No quería ir allí todavía.

— ¿Es asunto tuyo, querida? — Respondió con un tono bajo, como si fuera una pequeña advertencia hacia ella.

Y T/n se encogió en su asiento no del todo satisfecha con su respuesta, sabía que no estaba en lugar para saber eso, después de todo, ese era su trabajo, excitar a la gente y llevarlos al orgasmo, y tal vez ella solo había sido afortunada.

— Oye, creo que ese tipo te conoce.— Yoongi habló de repente casi con fastidio mientras miraba un área detrás de ella.

— ¿Qué? ¿Qué chico? — T/n preguntó frunciendo su entrecejo antes de darse la vuelta en su asiento, mirando hacia todos lados, mirando más allá de toda la gente bebiendo y charlando tratando de encontrar una cara familiar hasta que con un movimiento su atención se centró en el mismo chico de hace horas, mirándola con sus ojos abiertos cuando se dio cuenta que lo había notado.

— ¿Quién es ese? — Yoongi preguntó con el mismo tono de voz mientras se removía en su asiento.

— Un chico que conocí en clase antes. Dios, espero que no me esté acosando... oh, aquí viene, ¡Oye, Jungkook! — T/n respondió rápidamente y sorprendiendose cuando lo vio caminar hacia los dos.

— ¡T/n! Me sorprendió verte aquí.— Jungkook habló con una sonrisa en su rostro antes de inclinar su lata de cerveza en dirección a Yoongi.— Con un buen compañero, por lo que veo.

— Así es, ella tiene buen gusto, ¿no lo crees? — Yoongi respondió descaradamente formando una mueca de disgusto antes de tomar otro sorbo de su cerveza, y T/n se apresuró a golpear suavemente su rodilla mientras fingía una risa.

— Espero que no me estés siguiendo, Jungkook.— T/n habló lo más alegre y amigable posible.

— ¡Oh, no, no! Todo es solo una coincidencia. Lo siento si te hice sentir incómoda…

— Bueno, a mi sí me hiciste sentir incómodo mirándola durante demasiado tiempo, Jungkook.— Yoongi volvió a hablar con dureza mientras se ponía de pie antes de tomar la mano T/n y hacerla levantarse también mientras Jungkook observaba todo con una mirada atónita en su rostro.— Nos vamos.

Todo pasó demasiado rápido cuando Yoongi comenzó a caminar por el bar directo hacia la salida que T/n apenas y tuvo tiempo de mirar sobre su hombro y murmurar un pequeño “Lo siento” a Jungkook.

— ¡Yoongi! — T/n habló en medio de un chillido mientras salían del bar, el aire frío de la noche golpeó su cuerpo y la hizo temblar detrás de él.— Eso fue muy grosero…

— Oh, no dirías lo mismo si hubieras visto la forma en que te miraba.— Yoongi se burló sin gracia de sus palabras mientras llegaban a su auto

— ¿De qué hablas? No conozco mucho a Jungkook pero no creo que él…— T/n habló confundida antes de sobresaltarse cuando Yoongi se giró hacia ella de repente; acorralandola contra su auto y cubriendo su cuerpo por completo con el suyo.

— No quiero que ningún otro hombre te mire de la misma forma que yo.

Y con eso T/n ni siquiera tuvo tiempo de procesar sus palabras, porque tan pronto como Yoongi las dijo su cuerpo se presionó con el de ella, juntando sus torsos y estrellando sus labios en un beso teñido de desesperación pura.

Pasionales, fluidos, húmedos, ansiosos.

Esos eran los labios de Min Yoongi mientras se movían sobre los de ella.

T/n no supo descifrar si fue ella, o Yoongi, o ambos los que suspiraron aliviados contra los labios ajenos, pero lo hicieron, y era entendible, después de tantas bromas y de tanto tiempo era de esperarse que reaccionaran así, sus manos se apoyaron en sus anchos hombros y las de él se ajustaron en su cintura, pasándolas por su espalda baja para lograr apretar su cuerpo mas con el suyo haciéndola jadear contra su boca y sentir que sus piernas temblaban, casi amenazando con hacerla caer de rodillas ahí mismo de no ser porque Yoongi la apoyó contra su auto mientras su lengua ávida acariciaba su labio inferior en pequeños toques, y cuando T/n entreabrió sus labios Yoongi se apresuró a insertar su lengua en la de ella, haciéndolo gemir roncamente y a ella jadear completamente abrumada, sus grandes manos estaban por todo su cuerpo, acariciando cada porción de piel a su disposición y queriendo abarcar todo de ella en menor tiempo posible; apretó su cintura, acarició sus mejillas, sus brazos, clavó sus dedos en sus muslos y enganchó una mano en el interior de su rodilla, elevando su pierna y haciendo que rodeara su cintura con ella.

El chasquido casi obseno de sus lenguas la hicieron temblar entre sus manos y no supo descrifrar si fue por una rafaga de viento o porque estaba increíblemente excitada a este punto, ahí en medio del estacionamiento los dos eran un lío de manos, saliva, lenguas y respiraciones densas.

Una de las manos de Yoongi se había ajustado a su cuello para no dejarle escapatoria, cuando él sabia muy bien que no iba a huir, las de T/n se trasladaron a la parte trasera de su cabeza donde enredó sus dedos en su cabello negro y rebelde; apretándose más contra él y escuchando un quejido gutural salir de sus labios antes de sentirlo envolver un brazo en su cintura para apretar su pelvis contra la de ella sin desantender sus húmedos besos, y en esta oportunidad, ambos soltaron un quejido al unisono sobre la boca del otro antes de tomarla por sus mejillas y separarse de ella, tirando un poco de su labio inferior en el proceso.

— Dios…— T/n jadeó entrecortado apenas separándose levemente de él, sintiéndose un tanto aturdida por la falta de aire y ahí Yoongi abrió sus ojos mientras suspiraba pesadamente cuando tuvo una vista exclusiva de sus pupilas dilatadas, sus mejillas rojas y de sus labios hinchados y resbaladizos con su saliva.

La mano de Yoongi se elevó para tomarla por el mentón con firmeza y sonreír de lado, inclinándose sobre ella para rozar sus labios de los cuales salían exhalación tras exhalación caliente.

— No, soy Min Yoongi.— Decretó de forma engreída apoyándose sobre la puerta de su auto con la otra mano, buscando presionarse mas contra ella como si eso fuera posible.

T/n negó con su cabeza sin evitar sonreír ante sus palabras dándose cuenta de lo bien que encajaban sus cuerpos juntos y del abrumador calor que la inundaba por completo.— Eres un presumido.

— Tengo cosas para presumir, así que puedo hacerlo bebé…— Yoongi explicó con altanería acompañando sus palabras con un certero empuje de caderas contra ella, presionando su erección en su vientre bajo y haciendo que su espalda chocara contra la puerta; arrancándole un quejido ahogado que emergió de sus labios.

Sin pensarlo mucho los labios de Yoongi volvieron a unirse a los de ella, sabiendo muy bien que tarde o temprano siempre volvería a caer en ellos, eran como una de las peores drogas, de esas que solo te bastaba probarlas una sola vez para querer más y más, y se encargó de devorar su boca con la suya, sus labios se abrieron para darle paso una vez más a que deslizara su lengua y que pudiera explorarla como tanto ansiaba, las manos de T/n se sostuvieron de sus hombros y el rodeó su cintura con su brazo, pegándose a ella por inercia.

La necesitaba tanto, necesitaba descargar todo lo que había contenido por días, necesitaba perderse en ella como había imaginado una y otra vez, en sus sueños, e incluso despierto.

El corazón de T/n latía con desenfreno en su pecho y la temperatura en su cuerpo se elevó con facilidad, pero simplemente no podía luchar contra la forma en que su cuerpo respondía a cada uno de los toques de Yoongi, en cómo sus lenguas se entrelazaban con afán la una con la otra, e internamente agradecía el hecho de que no hubiera gente donde estaban, y se lo hizo saber cuando movió sus caderas hacia él; restregandose suavemente contra su pelvis y contra la dura erección que podía sentir a través de sus ropas, solo ganándose que Yoongi gruñera sobre sus labios mientras apretaba el agarre en su cintura, arrepintiéndose casi al instante de su acto cuando lo sintió deslizar sus labios hambrientos por su mejilla y su mentón, hasta llegar a la curvatura de su cuello donde comenzó a besar y lamer su piel cuanto quiso.

— Yoongi…— T/n musitó con un hilo de voz, sus manos se engancharon en su cabello, disfrutando por completo de la calidez de su aliento y la humedad de su boca, mordiéndose el labio cuando lo sintió encontrar ese punto dulce detrás de su oreja que ni siquiera sabía que tenía, dejando rastros húmedos de besos hacia abajo, para luego volver a subir y dispersarlos por toda su piel, y era plenamente consciente de la forma de la humedad en sus bragas aumentando cada vez más.— ¿Vamos a tu casa o a la mía?

Y por supuesto, Yoongi ignoró su pregunta por completo, cada nervio de su cuerpo estaba monopolizado con un apetito sexual que nunca antes había sentido y que solo era potenciado por la forma en que T/n se escuchaba a sus oídos, tan sensual y dulce al mismo tiempo, y toda su mente se quedó en blanco con lo siguiente que escuchó.

— Señor, por favor… te necesito tanto.— T/n lloriqueo por lo bajo mientras empujaba sus caderas hacia él un poco más fuerte esta vez, haciéndolo consciente de la necesidad latente entre sus piernas, buscando de nueva cuenta sus labios para depositar cortos y repetitivos besos sobre ellos, sintiendo sus mejillas arder aún más al ser consciente de la forma en que lo había llamado.

No sabía si era buena o mala señal que Yoongi se hubiera quedado estático ante sus palabras, pero tampoco podía pensar mucho en eso, no cuando su todo su cuerpo estaba ardiendo en calor, y cuando hizo un nuevo intento por mover sus caderas hacia él una de sus manos se apretó en su cintura, manteniendo su cuerpo quieto cuando sus ojos se encontraron con los de él y ni siquiera pudo evitar no temblar en su lugar cuando notó su mirada oscura antes de sentir como la tomaba por el mentón con fuerza.

— Sube al maldito auto. Ahora.— Ordenó con su voz ronca y con su mandíbula tensa, su pecho subía y bajaba en respiraciones tranquilas, como si estuviera haciendo un inútil intento de controlarse sin dejar de mirarla y solo aumentando la excitación en ella, quería estar tranquilo, pero el bulto en su entrepierna revelaba que no lo estaba y menos pudo ocultarlo cuando la vio relamer sus labios y sonreírle con descaro antes de asentir levemente; como si fuera una niña que acababa de conseguir lo que quería.

Bueno, tal vez debería quitarle esa actitud.

El viaje a la casa de Yoongi estuvo lleno de tensión y T/n simplemente no podía entender cómo era que se había contenido de lanzarsele encima para besar su cuello, pero decidió no hacerlo porque era un peligro para la seguridad, además de que él había tomado alcohol, pero Yoongi le había dicho que tenía una alta tolerancia y que la cerveza no le afectaba en absoluto, aún desconfiaba un poco.

Y además, todo era mejor cuando había un poco de tensión.

Cuando llegaron a su departamento T/n quedó sorprendida con lo monocromático que era todo, pero lo estuvo aún más cuando se dio cuenta que cada rincón del lugar estaba lleno con el aroma de Yoongi, esa colonia que la había hecho suspirar más de una vez en lo que iba de la noche y que ahora se colaba por su nariz como si se tratara de un afrodisiaco, solo alimentando más su deseo por él, y ahora que estaba en su casa esa sensación se había duplicado diez veces más.

— No t-tienes…— T/n balbuceó de a poco, queriendo abofetearse por tartamudear cuando lo miró recargado sobre el marco de la puerta; inspeccionando su cuerpo de arriba abajo, y fue suficiente para que su mente se quedara en blanco.

Yoongi dio unos pasos más cerca de ella, llegando hasta donde estaba para quitar su bolso de su hombro y dejarlo car al suelo con un ruido sordo.— ¿Mhm? ¿Estabas diciendo?

Su voz se había vuelto mucho más profunda, más relajada, y era un tono que la hacía querer derretirse frente a él, obligándola a tomar una respiración profunda antes de hablar.

— ¿No tienes trabajo o algo así? — T/n preguntó por lo bajo, pensando que tal vez su línea estaba abierta y tenía clientes esperándolo.

Las manos de Yoongi serpentearon por sus brazos con calma hasta llegar a sus caderas, colando una de sus manos debajo de su blusa, lo suficiente para tener contacto directo con su cintura donde frotó su piel en lentas caricias; enviándole pequeñas ondas de calor por todo su cuerpo y haciéndolo sonreír cuando la vio suspirar suavemente y relajarse de a poco, su otra mano jugó con un mechón suelto de su cabello antes de curvarlo detrás de su oreja y responder con su voz una octava más abajo de lo usual.

— No. Estoy trabajando contigo esta noche.

Y tan pronto como dijo eso, guiado por el frenesí del momento, sus labios volvieron a chocar contra los de ella una y otra vez, su mano mantenía el agarre en su mentón y Yoongi se encargó de devorar su boca como si se tratara de un hombre hambriento de ella y anhelante de su sabor, y T/n apenas y podía seguir su ritmo tan demandante sobre sus labios, dejándose caer sobre una pared detrás de ella que, para empezar, ni siquiera sabía que estaba ahí, pero a la que que Yoongi pareció guiarla desde el principio sin que se diera cuenta.

Una especie de ronroneo se derritió a través de su boca al sentir su luengua jugando con la de ella y todo el deseo aumentó de sobremanera cuando sus lenguas chocaron entre sí, casi dejandola sin aliento y derritiéndose por completo al escuchar los gruñidos de Yoongi contra su boca, había soñado tanto con esto, había reprimido todo lo que sentía, y ahora todo finalmente estaba cobrando vida y sólo queria hacer todo lo que alguna vez le había prometido por telefono.

En un arrebato Yoongi guió su agarre a su nuca para mantenerla quieta, y T/n olvidándose de cualquier rastro de pudor enredó una de sus piernas en su cintura sosteniéndose con la otra una vez más, un nuevo gemido ahogado escapó de sus labios cuando Yoongi movió su pelvis contra ella, frotándose en un toque apenas perceptible pero a la vez notorio que le hizo saber de la dureza que estaba encerrada en sus pantalones, sus lenguas se enredaban con afán y todo el cuerpo de T/n tembló cuando sintió a Yoongi tomar su lengua entre sus labios, succionandola con suavidad una y otra vez, haciéndola gemir suavemente y aferrarse a él con más fuerza, moviendo sus caderas de igual forma, frotándose el uno con el otro y sólo aumentando el calor en sus cuerpos casi de forma alarmante.

Y cuando Yoongi soltó su lengua con lentitud ignoró el hilo de saliva que colgaba entre sus bocas, solo enfocándose en la belleza y el placer en todo su rostro en su máxima expresión.

— Estás segura, ¿verdad? — Yoongi preguntó poco después, con su voz ronca y su respiración agitada sin dejar de mirar sus labios hinchados y rojizos mientras se encargaba de acariciar su pierna suavemente en movimientos ascendentes y descendentes.

T/n lo miró con sus ojos muy abiertos mientras respirando por la boca y con la esperanza de que le hiciera saber de su necesidad de manera no verbal cuando movió sus caderas sutilmente hacia él, en una clara invitación.

Pero Yoongi no quería eso, él quería escuchar sus palabras, quería escucharla pedir por él, y se dio cuenta de eso un poco más tarde.

— Sí, señor…— Respondió en un murmullo entrecortado mientras deslizaba sus manos por su pecho que bajaba y subía en densas respiraciones hasta llegar a su desordenado cabello, acercándose a él para darle un delicado beso, apenas perceptible antes de continuar.— Lo quiero tanto…

Y con eso Yoongi se permitió sonreír ladinamente, hundiendo su rostro en la curva de su cuello y haciéndose espacio para sumergir sus labios en su piel y comenzar a salpicar besos húmedos por toda la zona, ensanchando su sonrisa cuando la escuchó jadear y estirar su cuello para darle más espacio.

— No te preocupes, seré amable…— Yoongi masculló contra su piel, frotando su la punta de su nariz contra su oreja, vertiendo su aliento agitado y caliente sobre ella antes de subir y encontrarse con sus ojos y pupilas dilatadas una vez más, y sonreír con lo siguiente que dijo.— Por ahora…

Lo único que T/n pudo atinar a hacer fue soltar un quejido cuando sintió a Yoongi agacharse lo suficiente para tomarla por su trasero con seguridad y alzar su cuerpo en el aire de un salto, haciéndola soltar una risita vergonzosa a la vez que envolvía sus piernas en su cintura y sujetarse de sus hombros antes de que despegara su cuerpo de la pared para comenzar a caminar hacia su habitación, y a pesar de saber el destino, se dejó envolver por sus labios suaves y dulces una vez más.

Las manos de Yoongi subieron por su espalda baja, y despegando momentáneamente sus bocas que seguían devorándose como si no hubiera un mañana, depositó su cuerpo con suavidad sobre el colchón de su cama, todo lo estaba haciendo con suma delicadeza, y T/n no sabia si era para disfrutar más el momento o para alargarlo. Las dos opciones le parecían perfectas.

El cuerpo de T/n se hundió en las sabanas y junto sus piernas frotandolas pausadamente la una con la otra, formando una pequeña sonrisa cuando vio a Yoongi deshacerse de la chamarra de cuero y cuando pensó que también se quitara su camisa, su mano grande y caliente separó sus piernas para hacerse su debido espacio entre ellas, hincando sus rodillas en la cama y acarició sus piernas desnudas con calma antes de subir al borde de su blusa, el cual tomó para tirar hacia arriba y T/n le ayudó estirando sus brazos para quitarse la prenda por completo.

La mirada de Yoongi oscureció aún mas cuando le dio un repaso a todo su cuerpo y ni siquiera pudo luchar contra el destello de timidez que la atravesó, e intentó cerrar sus piernas para cubrirse aunque sea un poco, pero antes de que pudiera hacerlo Yoongi la sujeto por su cuello, elevando su cabeza hacia él para volver a besarla.

Dieron inicio a una nueva sesión de besos desesperados por parte de ambos, dejando que sus lenguas volvieran a unirse una vez más, todo su cuerpo ancho y fornido se presionó contra el de ella y T/n dejó que un gemido saliera de su boca mientras sus manos se pasaban por su cabello para demostrarle cuan a gusto estaba, y Yoongi soltó una especie de ronroneo mientras chupaba su labio inferior, dejándolo ir con un chasquido húmedo antes de que una de sus manos se deslizara por su torso, acariciando con calma la piel que tenía a su disposición, sintiendo el cuerpo de T/n temblar y agitarse debajo de él cuando frotó su pulgar contra uno de sus pezones endurecido, aún por encima de su sostén y solo logrando que soltara un débil gimoteo.

— Quiero besarte entera.— Yoongi murmuró con su voz ronca sobre su boca y T/n supo que hablaba realmente en serio cuando sus labios bajaron por su mentón hasta llegar a su cuello para besarlo todas las veces que quiso; marcando un camino de saliva desde la curva hasta sus clavículas repitiendo esa operación una y otra vez mientras el agarre en sus senos se apretaba suavemente, tarareando de gusto mientras masajeaba uno por uno; dándoles la misma atención a ambos y un pequeño gemido salió de los labios de T/n cuando lo sintió atrapar el lóbulo de su oreja para succionarlo con ansia haciéndolo sonreír ladinamente cuando se separó un poco de ella; notando su cuello marcado y mojado por él, y la simple vista lo hizo trasladar sus manos hacia su espalda y soltar el broche de su sostén en un rápido movimiento encontrándose con sus ojos.— Quiero saber cuan dulce sabes.

Y con eso último T/n ni siquiera tuvo tiempo para reprochar porque en un santiamén los bonitos labios de Yoongi se envolvieron alrededor de uno de sus senos, tomando un gran bocado de su piel y comenzando a repartir besos húmedos en toda la zona, su lengua se movía con maestría y jugaba con su pezón tan lenta y dolorosamente que solo hizo que T/n soltara un fuerte gemido al sentirlo, su caliente respiración erizaba su piel y sus manos viajaron a su espeso cabello para tirar de las hebras sin mucha fuerza antes de arquear su espalda hacía su boca, y él gustoso aceptó el ofrecimiento, gruñendo guturalmente sobre su piel antes de elevar sus manos hacia sus senos; acunando ambos con sus palmas y apretandolos suavemente justo antes de su lengua saliera para lamer sus pezones uno por uno, intercalando entre ellos mientras la miraba con su vista nublada por sus dulces expresiones de placer.

— Yoongi…— T/n maullo sin aliento sintiendo sus besos seguir bajando por su vientre, cubriendo cada porción de piel a su alcance y todo su cuerpo se tensó cuando sin darse cuenta sus manos se encontraron con el inicio de su falda tirando de ella hacia abajo por sus piernas, dejándola demasiado embelesada con sus dedos tocando sus muslos para darse cuenta que se había llevado consigo sus bragas, sino que fue hasta que sintió un repentino escalofrío recorrer su cuerpo y su centro húmedo que se dio cuenta que estaba desnuda frente a él.

Cuando quiso hacer amague por cubrirse solo atino a lloriquear por lo bajo cuando Yoongi se alejó de su cuerpo rápidamente, enderezando su espalda y clavando sus rodillas en la cama para quitarse la camisa por su cabeza y los ojos de T/n se perdieron en su piel blanquecina, en las líneas de sus músculos; desde sus bíceps hasta sus pectorales que subían y bajaban en respiraciones acompasadas, todo su cabello caía sobre su rostro y cuando se lo echó hacia atrás, casi tuvo que obligarse a sí misma a no jadear ante la simple imagen, y por supuesto que su mirada no pasó desapercibida por Yoongi, quien formó una sonrisita arrogante mientras sus manos viajaban hacia el botón de su pantalón, desabrochándolo con calma mientras sus ojos seguían cada uno de sus movimientos.

— ¿Estás esperando una invitación? — Yoongi farfulló bajandose de un solo tiron sus pantalones hasta la mitad de sus muslos, quedando sólo en unos boxer color negro que enmarcaban a la perfección el contorno de su dura y tensa erección atrapada en ellos, su mirada subió a su rostro y sonrió con malicia cuando notó su mirada confundida.

Su cuerpo volvió a inclinarse sobre el de ella, la boca de T/n fue sellada una vez más con sus labios, chocandolos de manera repentina en un demandante y posesivo beso, tomando el mando y ladeando su cabeza con vehemencia, succionando su labio inferior y solo ganándose un adorable quejido cuando se alejó de ella dándole un sutil tironcito.

— Tócate, cariño.— Yoongi murmuró sin dejar de mirarla con ojos oscuros, como si se tratara de una fiera; a punto de devorarla por completo.— Tócate como lo hacías cada que vez que escuchabas mi voz. Quiero verte.

Y ante eso T/n ni siquiera pudo luchar contra la bruma de vergüenza que sintió con sus palabras, y cuando elevó su mirada hacia él todo su cuerpo tembló cuando se encontró con sus ojos nublados en lujuria mirándola con atención y que solo la hicieron obedecer sus palabras, su mano se movió precaria por sus muslos hasta llegar a su entrepierna y un suspiro agitado salió de sus labios cuando sus dedos entraron en contacto con su clítoris, tocándose con cuidado y comenzando a estimularse con suavidad recordando todo lo que alguna vez llegaron a hablar por teléfono y solo haciéndola gemir y mover sus dedos más rápido sobre su botón de placer, cerrando los ojos con fuerza un tanto por el placer que sentía recorrer cada rincón de su cuerpo y otro poco para intentar esconderse de su intensa mirada.

— No sabes cuantas veces te imagine así…— Yoongi susurró con voz ronca contra su oído viendo su cuerpo temblar y mover su mano más fuerte sobre su entrepierna haciéndolo sonreír antes de acariciar su mejilla con su mano, viéndola jadear ante otro movimiento y aprovechó eso para meter dos de sus dedos dentro de su boca, sus pestañas se desplegaron hacia él y una sonrisa se formó en su rostro cuando sintió su lengua comenzar a chuparlos una y otra vez.— Te ves tan jodidamente bonita tocándote, bebé.

Y tan pronto como dijo aquello sus dedos dejaron su boca en un chasquido húmedo y obsceno, deslizandolos por su cuerpo y marcando un camino de humedad hasta que llegó al centro de sus piernas, quitando su mano en un rápido movimiento para reemplazarla con la suya propia, y en un abrir y cerrar de ojos, sus dedos se presionaron con fuerza contra su clítoris y el destello de placer la hizo soltar un fuerte gemido; frunciendo sus manos en las sábanas y tirando de ellas mientras sus caderas se movían hacia sus dedos.

— Shh, shh, déjame cuidarte…— Yoongi arrulló apretando su mandíbula al mismo tiempo que movía sus dedos en círculos suaves sobre su pequeño clítoris, escuchándola gemir en cada movimiento, y aún más cuando presionó suavemente la punta de su dedo contra su entrada un par de veces antes de volver a subir lentamente y frotar su punto de placer, sonriendo al verla dejar caer su cabeza sobre la almohada en puro placer junto a un adorable gemido que coreó toda su habitación, haciéndolo sonreír antes de deslizarse por su cuerpo hasta que su respiración abanicó su entrada y que su boca se envolvió alrededor de su clítoris reemplazando sus dedos y haciéndola gemir con fuerza.

Todos los sentidos de T/n estaban al mil, apenas recuperandose de sentir sus dedos en ella cuando de un momento ya tenía su boca entre sus piernas, su cabello negro le cubria ligeramente sus ojos y su lengua se deslizaba entre sus pliegues húmedos de arriba a abajo una y otra vez antes de chupar y succionar su clítoris como un hombre hambriento, sujetando sus piernas con fuerza y gruñendo una maldición contra su piel mientras su sabor llenaba todos sus sentidos sólo haciéndolo tomar todo lo que pudiera de ella, llenando el espacio con sonidos húmedos y lascivos, ahí descubrió que Yoongi no solo sabía usar su boca para hablar sucio, sino que tambien era muy bueno oralmente e imaginó que él estaba orgulloso de lo que su lengua podía hacer, en todas las formas posibles.

Podía sentir el nudo en su vientre apretándose cada vez más; anunciando su pronto orgasmo, los gruñidos de Yoongi contra su entrada sensible solo enviaban ondas de placer por cada nervio empujándola más y más al borde del éxtasis, su nombre comenzó a brotar de sus labios en jadeos entrecortados como si se tratara de un mantra, pero Yoongi no la escuchó, él ignoró por completo la forma en que sus manos tiraban de su cabello y el sonido de su respiración laboriosa, solo se concentró en sus caderas moviéndose contra su boca, haciendo que su lengua jugara con clítoris haciéndola sentir un placer tan abrumador, que cuando sus piernas temblaron a cada lado de su cabeza y cuando orgasmo la inundó de repente solo pudo cerrar los ojos con fuerza y lloriquear por el placer al rojo vivo en cada parte de su cuerpo mientras se removía contra el firme agarre de Yoongi, sintiéndolo lamerla sin querer desperdiciar ni una sola gota de su orgasmo.

— Maldición, hubiera hecho esto mucho antes de saber que sabias tan delicioso.— Yoongi murmuró en una sonrisita y relamiéndose los labios, todavía degustando su sabor en su lengua mientras volvía a subir por su cuerpo, encontrándose con sus ojos entrecerrados y su respiración acelerada.— Oh bebé, ¿Estás cansada? ¿Quieres parar…?

— No, no…— T/n se apresuró a responder apenas saliendo de su bruma de placer, sintiendo todo su cuerpo arder aún más que al principio.— Te necesito…

— ¿Me necesitas? — preguntó con voz ronca, acunando su mejilla con una de sus manos y acariciando suavemente su piel.

— Si, por favor Yoongi, fóllame…— T/n pidió por lo bajo, apoyándose en su toque y mirándolo con ojos necesitados, notando como su rostro se deformaba en una mueca que no supo descifrar del todo.

— Podría lastimarte…— Yoongi murmuró más bajo esta vez, temiendo que realmente pudiera hacer eso.

— Entonces hazme daño, no me importa, solo…— T/n volvió a pedir por él antes de hacer una pausa y elevar su mano para frotarla suavemente contra el bulto en su boxer, sintiendo la longitud y dureza de su miembro palpitar en su mano, elevando su vista hacia el y verlo morderse el labio ante sus movimientos; dándole la última pizca de seguridad.— Por favor…

Y Yoongi simplemente no pudo evitar sonreír al escucharla, suspirando pesadamente al sentirla trasladar sus caricias hacia la punta de su pene e hizo todo lo posible por no mandar todo a la mierda y castigarla ahí mismo por su pequeño y astuto movimiento sobre él, estaba demasiado excitado para que fuera real, eso era cierto, así que verla pedir por él, con ese tono de voz tan dócil que siempre le había encantado solo hacia que su deseo por ella aumentara, casi al punto de ser doloroso y cuando volvió a mirarla algo oscuro comenzó a nadar en sus ojos.

— Hazlo mejor.— Yoongi habló poco después, trasladando su mano hacia abajo para envolver sus dedos alrededor de su cuello con la cantidad perfecta de presión, viéndola parpadear hacia él y respirar agitadamente.— Muéstrame lo buena chica que eres y súplica apropiadamente.

— Señor, por favor fóllame…— T/n respondió en un pequeño jadeo sumiso y necesitado cuando la mano de Yoongi aplicó más presión en su cuello, haciéndola agitarse y mover sus caderas hacia él en una muda invitación, completamente desesperada por sentirlo.— Por favor, lo necesito tanto…

Y antes de que pudiera decir algo más, lo labios de Yoongi volvieron a estamparse con los de ella, esta vez con una voracidad duplicada, T/n reprimió un gemido cuando la lengua contraria no espero ni un segundo en salir en busca de la suya, acariciando con la punta todo lo que estaba a su paso y arrancándole cada uno de sus suspiros en busca de aire, sus grandes manos recorrieron todo su cuerpo con dureza; como si quisiera memorizar cada curva de él, sintiendo su piel estremecerse con anticipación y haciéndola soltar un gemido ahogado cuando sintió la punta de su pene deslizarse entre los pliegues de su entrada y rozar suavemente su clítoris sin saber muy bien en qué momento se había desnudado, pero tampoco pudo pensar demasiado en eso cuando su pelvis comenzó a moverse contra ella, creando una deliciosa fricción entre sus intimidades, sintiéndolo tan grande y pesado presionando contra ella haciéndola acompañar sus movimientos con sus caderas, solo para escucharlo gruñir contra su boca mientras volvía a besarla un par de veces más antes de separarse escuchandola jadear de disgusto.

Yoongi podía sentir sus ojos seguirlo cuando alcanzó el cajón de la mesa de noche, del cual tomó un condón con rapidez, obligándose a respirar para intentar controlarse cuando regresó su vista de nuevo hacia ella, pero era prácticamente imposible hacerlo con la imagen de su cuerpo desnudo y su cabello alborotado que le gritaban que la tomara a como diera lugar, sus constantes jadeos no eran de mucha ayuda tampoco, pero tenía que mantener la cabeza en calma, por ella.

Sus manos se engancharon en el interior de sus rodillas, tirando de su cuerpo hacia él sobre las sábanas, sonriendo al escucharla reír levemente, y se apresuró a rasgar un costado de la envoltura y sacar el condón para deslizarlo por lo largo de su erección, y T/n ni siquiera pudo evitar no relamerse los labios ante la imagen; haciéndola estirar su mano para rodear la base de su miembro duro a lo alto, haciéndolo gruñir guturalmente cuando movió su mano de arriba a abajo, los músculos de Yoongi se endurecieron ante la estimulación y a T/n no pudo gustarle más la imagen de él, le gustaba ver su cabello enloquecido, le gustaba ver sus abdominales marcados por la excitación, le gustaba ver el sudor correr por sus sienes, sus labios hinchados y rojos, le gustaba escuchar su voz ronca y ver su miembro duro por ella.

Su revelación se vio interrumpida cuando de un movimiento, Yoongi se acomodó mejor entre sus piernas, haciendo que soltara el agarre en su erección palpitante, sus manos tomaron sus muñecas y con firmeza a cada lado de su cabeza y sus ojos se conectaron, transmitiendole todo el júbilo y el deseo que parecía sentir y un jadeo tembloroso la abandonó cuando sintió la punta de su pene rozar su abertura; solicitando su debida entrada con cuidado.

La expectativa se acumuló en su estómago cuando Yoongi se acercó a su rostro, tocando su nariz con la de ella suavemente antes de besar el puente de la misma, y T/n no podía entender cómo podía sentirse tanta dulzura y deseo al mismo tiempo, pero Yoongi parecía hacerlo posible con su beso esquimal y su longitud apretándose contra ella al mismo tiempo.

No supo en qué momento soltó sus muñecas pero se dio cuenta cuando comenzó a hundirse dentro de ella con lentitud, las manos de T/n salieron disparadas a su espalda y reprimió un gemido de dolor al sentirlo, todo su cuerpo estaba temblando y trató de concentrarse en los ojos de Yoongi quién estaba estático y que la miraban con atención, como si estuviera estudiando su rostro, se veía preocupado y parecía estar sufriendo en el fondo por controlarse, y otro quejido salió de sus labios al sentirlo volver a presionarse mientras ella luchaba por tomar su circunferencia.

— Ah, Yoongi, d-duele…— T/n lloriqueo por lo bajo, tensando su cuerpo y tirando de las sabanas con fuerza, Yoongi era más grande de lo que esperaba, y la punta de su pene ni siquiera estaba del todo adentro.

— Shh, lo sé, cariño. Pero tienes que ser una buena chica y relajarte para mí o de lo contrario nos detendremos aqui.—Yoongi susurró apretando su mandíbula de la misma forma antes de morder su labio inferior y empujarse un poco más, deslizándose paulatinamente, centímetro a centímetro hasta llenarla por completo y T/n volvió a cerrar sus ojos gimiendo con fuerza; sintiendo como Yoongi volvía a quedarse inmovil, dejando que se amoldara a su longitud ahora más caliente que nunca.

Sus labios fueron rápidos en amortiguar otro nuevo gemido quejumbroso de T/n, tomando su boca con la suya en una nueva oportunidad, una de sus manos se movió hacia su mentón donde acarició suavemente su labio inferior con su pulgar que cuando la vio jadear ante un sutil movimiento dentro de ella; metió su dedo en su boca, haciéndolo suspirar cuando sintió su lengua envolverse alrededor de su dedo y cubrirlo con su saliva.

— Eres muy hermosa, T/n. Muy hermosa..— Yoongi arrulló suavemente y ella abrió sus ojos ante sus palabras, encontrándose con su mandíbula marcada y sus labios entreabiertos; mirándolo sin dejar de chupar su dedo y dejando escapar un gemido amortiguado cuando movió sus caderas hacia él, en un muda invitación a que continuara, el dolor estaba siendo reemplazado por un peculiar ardor y cuando sintió que Yoongi estaba a punto de retirarse por completo de repente volvió a hundirse dentro de ella hasta tocar fondo.

Repitió esa acción una y otra vez, moviéndose dentro de ella con toda la calma del mundo, no entrecortado, sino que se deslizaba con una exquisita facilidad y T/n se dejó relajar debajo de él; intentando acompañar sus movimientos con sus caderas sintiendo como todo el placer comenzaba a consumir todos sus sentidos.

— ¿Se siente bien así? — Yoongi preguntó con su voz ahogada aún conteniendose y comenzando a marcar un ritmo lento y superficial, apretando su mandíbula y luchando por mantener el control.

— Mhm-hu… sigue Yoongi, sigue…— T/n gimió dulcemente esas palabras, rodeando su cintura con sus piernas aferrándose con fuerza a él, todo su cuerpo se agitó cuando sintió a Yoongi deslizarse hacia afuera y antes de salirse por completo la penetró en una firme estocada que la hizo retorcerse debajo de su cuerpo.— Oh, Dios…

— No, soy Min Yoongi.— Repitió socarron esas mismas palabras que había dicho antes ajustando sus manos en su cintura para darle estabilidad a sus nuevas penetraciones que se volvían mas firmes y acompasadas; empujando su cuerpo una y otra vez sobre la cama.

— Deja de decir eso, creo que se te esta subiendo a la cabeza.— T/n quiso amonestarlo pero lo terminó diciendo en medio de una sonrisa delicada que rápidamente se deformó en una mueca de placer al recibir otra rotunda embestida haciéndola arquear su espalda hacia él.

— Eres la única con la que me siento especial, T/n.— Yoongi murmuró acercándose nuevamente hacia su rostro, sosteniendo su mirada y T/n se sintió más que capaz de devolvérsela, los dos estaban igual de sumergidos en lo que sea que fuera esto, sabiendo muy bien que él también se había vuelto la única persona con la cual podía sentirse especial.

Un nuevo gemido brotó de los labios de ambos ante otra profunda penetración, los movimientos de Yoongi eran exactos y precisos, iban tomando cada segundo un ápice más de velocidad y T/n no podía hacer más que gimotear con cada nueva embestida que tocaba aquel punto especial dentro de ella, y es que todo era tan nuevo, tanto placer que no podía sostenerlo ella sola por mucho tiempo mas, todo el juego previo la había consumido, sus manos ansiosas subieron por su pecho hasta llegar a su cabello y jaló de él intentando llegar a sus labios y el mayor se dejó hacer, tomando una vez más el control del beso, mordiendo chupando su labio inferior, sus jadeos combinados con los de él junto a sus repetitivas penetraciones dentro y fuera parecían ser un impedimento para mantener sus labios unidos, pero no les importó.

T/n se sentía drogada, flotando en una nube de placer donde ni siquiera el sudor acumulandose su frente ni el calor abrumador que los envolvía se comparaban al placer latente que sentía en cada parte de su cuerpo, Yoongi se sentía tan bien dentro de ella, su pene la llenaba tan bien y tocaba todos los puntos correctos que solo la hacían gemir entre cada embestida, sus pieles ardían con cada bombeo constante mientras él seguía con sus duras embestidas que sacudían su cuerpo y que hacían que la cabecera de la cama chocara contra la pared una y otra vez, sintió a Yoongi apartar los mechones húmedos de su cabello fuera de su rostro antes de que su boca caliente volviera a devorarla con besos húmedos, comiéndose sus gemidos sin dejar de deslizarse dentro de ella cada vez más fuerte y salvaje, y es que él no estaba mejor que ella.

Estaba cerca, el inminente orgasmo estaba tocando la puerta, pidiendo salir cuando el cosquilleo y las vibraciones de su cuerpo hacían que sus estocadas se volvieran inestables y torpes, no podían culparlo, Yoongi simplemente no podía apartar la mirada de ella, de su cuerpo desnudo y cubierto de sudor debajo de él, de su rostro sonrojado, sus cejas fruncidas y sus labios entreabiertos dando bocanadas de aire entre cada beso hambriento y desesperado que le daba, podía sentir su interior apretándose imponente a su alrededor, podía sentir su cuerpo temblar con cada golpe de su pelvis dentro de ella. Habían estado sedientos durante semanas el uno por el otro, y sabía que se merecía esto y mucho más.

— Yoongi, estoy a punto de…— T/n lloriqueo cerrando sus ojos y apoyando su frente contra su hombro, abrazando su espalda y buscando un punto de apoyo sintiendo como el placer se volvió demasiado para su cuerpo.

— Si, bebé. Yo también. Córrete para mí, vamos…— Yoongi murmuró contra su oreja, dejando un rápido beso mientras aumentaba la velocidad de sus movimientos para alcanzar su placer también.

Y esa luz verde de su voz ronca y ansiosa fue suficiente para empujarla por completo a su orgasmo en medio de un fuerte y agudo gemido; sus piernas temblaron y su interior se apretó con fuerza contra su pene, jadeando ante la sensación tan deliciosa y placentera que llenó sus ojos de lágrimas mientras se aferraba a él con fuerza. A Yoongi solo le basbastaron otras tres penetraciones duras y profundas para derramarse dentro de ella; soltando una maldición entre dientes contra su cuello y un gemido aireado antes de dejarse caer sobre ella llenando el espacio solo con sus respiraciones densas y aceleradas mezclándose entre sí.

Con sus palpitaciones al mil y completamente jadeantes Yoongi trazó un camino de pequeños besos desde el hombro de T/n hacía arriba; pasando por su cuello, mejillas, hasta llegar a su boca, la punta de su lengua delineo sus labios para después soltar una sonrisa que se confundía con dulzura y travesura.

— Buena niña.— Farfulló divertido ensanchando su sonrisa al verla apartar su mirada de él completamente avergonzada, sin perder detalle de lo hermosa que lucía, incluso luego de su orgasmo, toda desalineada, jadeante y sonrojada, se veía preciosa a su ojos, y fue ese mismo descubrimiento el que lo hizo volver a buscar sus labios, más lento y suave esta vez solo para permitirse degustar su sabor una vez más.

El pequeño instante de paz fue abruptamente interrumpido con el sonido repentino y alarmante de un teléfono que se escuchó en la habitación; asustandola y haciéndola separarse de sus labios solo para ver a Yoongi apretar su mandíbula y murmurar una maldición mientras se separaba de ella haciéndola apretar sus labios ante su ausencia, y seguir sus movimientos mientras se recostaba a su lado para quitarse el condón.

— ¿No vas a contestar? — Preguntó por lo bajo removiendose sobre la cama

— No, no voy a contestar.— Yoongi respondió

— Pero, ¿y si es importante, o de tu trabajo…?— T/n volvió a insistir antes de que fuera interrumpida por su voz.

— Me importa una mierda si es del trabajo, no voy a contestar.— Yoongi espeto molesto girandose hacia ella; viendola sobresaltarse y mirarlo sorprendida ahogó un gruñido y se apresuró a subir de nuevo a la cama a su lado.— Escucha, T/n, yo… actúe como un idiota la vez que preguntaste si podíamos conocernos porque no quería perder mi trabajo, tengo esta regla donde no puedo tener ninguna relación con algun cliente y…

— Esa es una regla estupida.— T/n lo interrumpió con esas palabras, haciéndolo reír levemente.

— Sé que lo es, y yo pensé que quería eso, pero cuando no podía dejar de pensar en ti supe que lo que realmente quería era estar contigo, quiero estar contigo, no me importa que me despidan…

— Pero… es tu trabajo, no dejaré que te despidan por mi…

— No me importa, me di cuenta de que tú vales mas que ese trabajo y ese jodido dinero.— Yoongi volvió a asegurar con voz firme y sin dudar mientras acunaba su rostro con sus manos, casi perdiendose en sus ojos.— Quiero que empecemos de nuevo, que nos conozcamos, que vayamos a citas y hagamos todas esas cosas cursis y que no se quede solo como una llamada accidental de sexo telefónico entre nosotros.— agregó sin dejar de mirarla notando su sonrisa avergonzada ante el recuerdo haciéndolo sonreír también.— Estoy hablando enserio, quiero estar contigo T/n.

Y eso una vez mas demostro cuando podían afectarle sus palabras, solo que esta vez no eran vulgares ni lascivas, eran suaves y sinceras, y solo le revelaron algo que ella también sentía, quería estar con él, con nadie más.

— Me habías dicho que no eras romántico…— T/n habló con calma; mirándolo con ilusión y solo ganándose una sonrisa ladina de Yoongi sintiéndolo ajustar sus manos en su cintura para mimar su piel con calma.

— Cariño, te di un beso esquimal mientras estaba duro, por supuesto que puedo ser romantico.— Yoongi farfulló divertido sonriendo genuinamente cuando escuchó a T/n reír ante sus palabras, haciéndolo arrastrar sus manos por su cuerpo hasta llegar a su rostro para poder besarla una vez más.

Se volvió a adueñar de sus labios con puro fervor, ronroneando de gusto al sentirla enredar sus dedos en su cabello mientras se aferraba a él; invitándolo a besarla con más entusiasmo cuando el molesto sonido del teléfono volvió a escucharse, pero tampoco les importó mucho que digamos.

*Unas semanas después*

— Bebé…— La voz de Yoongi se escuchó desde el otro lado de la cocina, haciéndola dejar de hacer lo que sea que estuviera haciendo con lo siguiente que dijo.— ¡Tenemos nuestro primer suscriptor!

T/n rápidamente corrió hacia donde Yoongi estaba sentado en el taburete para mirar por encima de su hombro, con su cabello aún goteando y la toalla apenas envuelta alrededor de su cuerpo.

Después de que Yoongi dejó su trabajo y que decidieron mudarse juntos, ustedes dos habían encontrado una manera de ganar dinero juntos y divertirse mientras lo hacían, así que lo vio abrir la aplicación de OnlyFans en su teléfono y leer el nombre de la primera persona que amablemente se suscribió a su cuenta compartida.

— Jeon... Jungkook.

Ese nombre sonaba familiar.

— Wow, me pregunto cómo se topó con nuestra cuenta.— Yoongi reflexionó mientras la tomaba por sus brazos para acercarla a él y darle un pequeño beso.

T/n apenas y respondió, quedándose inmóvil en puro desconcierto, probablemente luciendo tan ridícula con la boca abierta y con el cuerpo cubierto de gotas de agua. ¿Podría ser él?

— ¿Qué estás pensando, bebé? — Yoongi preguntó mirándola con cuidado

— Nada, nada…— T/n respondió negando con su cabeza y arrojando ese pensamiento al fondo de su mente.— Supongo que será mejor que hagamos más contenido ahora, ¿no lo crees?

Y Yoongi simplemente sonrió ante eso, dejando su teléfono en el mostrador para poder envolver sus brazos en su cintura y abrazarla, sin importarle mucho que su camisa se estuviera humedeciendo con su cabello.— ¿Estás emocionada?

— ¿Por trabajar contigo? — T/n preguntó girándose hacia él y sonriendo de la misma forma antes de inclinarse y volver a besarlo.— Por supuesto, bebé.

————————————————————————

N/A: ¿Alguien más aparte de mi necesitaba que estos dos se comieran de una buena vez? Lo siento pero yo ya no podía con la tensión que se tenían

Espero que hayan disfrutado mucho de esta pequeña historia y que les haya gustado igual o más que la primera vez que la leyeron

Gracias por todo su apoyo titis ♡

taglist: @guvgguk @lessuwu @cometaart @AnnieKCV @darysnowflwr @nunubly @choco-linny @wtffktt7 @minmin-cat @18fernanda @ariggukie @Katherine Murillo @lizxz @onixbae02 @piligt @youtis @tessacereza @aavacaf @holiwui032

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soraviie · 2 years ago

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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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melancholy-of-nadia · 26 days ago

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the a(myg)dala (explicit) | myg

title: the a(myg)dala (explicit) pairing: mafia leader/detective! agust d x right handman! f. reader ; gang leader! yoongi x right handman! f. reader rating/genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , thriller , smut ; haegeum au , my agustdverse summary: You wake up in a lavish bedroom with no recollection of memories of who you are. The only person who holds the key to this mystery is the owner of the house, Agust D, a mafia boss masquerading as a police detective. He claims you’re his right hand (wo)man and that he needs to protect you from someone who’s after you, as well as a treasure he’s searching for. With danger lurking and your memories a blank slate, can you trust Agust D to uncover the truth, or is there more to his story than meets the eye? note: i have been planning this in my head (like the delusional girly i am) since daechwita came out in 2020, but it wasn't until 2023 with the haegeum mv that it truly solidified me wanting to put together my thoughts to create this. i started out with Distraction and Infatuation as test one shots to gauge at the interest, and now it has lead me to create the first actual chapter of this series. this series is dedicated to my bestie the biggest yoongi smut luvr i know @daegudrama and to my favorite yoongi fic writers @jcoles and @theharrowing. also this is kinda unedited i apologize for any mistakes sndksfjladsafbjka i will edit later on. warnings: the following series is intended for a mature audience and may contain graphic language, graphic violence, weapons (guns/katana swords/chopsticks), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, gambling, murder, gang activity, memory loss/amnesia, sassy and on guard reader, unreliable characters, haegeum!agust d, haegeum!yoongi, tale of two MYGs technically, LMAO, TEAM SUGA! appearances as mafia men, assassins, slow burn, fight sequences, power imbalance, future smut scenes that may contain some bdsm elements, multiverse implications, tattoos, etc. drop date: october 29th, 2024, 9:00pm pst word count: 5.5k – –

The world slowly comes into focus, the haze of unconsciousness lifting like a dissipating fog. You blink, your eyelids heavy as if weighed down by lead. The room around you is unfamiliar, dimly lit by a lamp on a nearby table. The scent of damp wood and something herbal lingers in the air. You try to move, but a sharp, throbbing pain in your head forces you to stay still.

Panic surges through you. Where are you? Why can’t you remember anything?

You glance around, the room’s details gradually becoming clearer. It is small and sparsely furnished, with wooden walls and a single window covered by a thick, faded curtain. But the strangest part is that you can't recall how you got here or what happened before. Your mind is blank, a void where your memories should be.

Well, almost blank.

Two things are certain in your mind: your name—whatever comfort that brings—and the image of a man, his face marked by a prominent scar, entering this very room. Yet, in the memory, the man looks different—his features more vivid, his clothing distinct. He is wearing a green jacket. You cling to that detail as if it were a lifeline in the sea of confusion.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the creaking of the wooden floor. You turn your head—slowly, cautiously—and see him. The man from your memory stands at the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and relief.

“You’re up? You’ve been asleep for a couple of days now.”

His voice is deep, carrying a warmth that contrasts with the sternness of his appearance. The scar on his face is unmistakable, and yet something about him seems off, like a piece of a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit.

“Who are—” you start to ask, but the words catch in your throat as a sudden, stabbing pain shoots through your temples. You wince, pressing a hand to your forehead as you try to steady your breathing.

The man’s eyes narrow, his concern deepening. “Easy, doll, don’t strain yourself. You’ve been through a lot.”

Doll?

His tone is soothing, but it only heightens your unease. Why does he look so familiar? And why does the memory of him in that green jacket feel so significant?

“I... I can’t remember… why can’t I remember?” you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of your fear and confusion. “I can’t remember anything, except your face. But you looked different... the green jacket...”

The man frowns, clearly troubled by your words. He steps closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if trying not to startle you.

“Listen,” he says gently, grasping your cheek. “You’ve been through something traumatic. It’s normal to feel disoriented. But you’re safe now, alright? We’ll figure this out together.”

His reassurance does little to ease the growing tension in your chest. As he speaks, you can’t shake the nagging feeling that there’s something he isn’t telling you—something important that lies just beyond your grasp.

But for now, with your head pounding and your body weak, all you can do is nod and hope that the answers will come soon.

His phone rings, the sound slicing through the uneasy quiet of the room. The man glances at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before pulling the phone from his pocket. He answers it without a word, his face hardening as he listens to the person on the other end. After a tense moment, he turns away, stepping out of the room.

The door creaks shut behind him.

You wait, the minutes stretching into what feels like an eternity. Ten minutes pass, then thirty, and still, there is no sign of his return. Your unease grows. Why hasn’t he come back yet? What was that phone call about?

The room feels smaller, the walls closing in as your anxiety gnaws at you. You try to stay still, but the silence is suffocating. You need to get out of bed.

With some effort, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, wincing as your body protests the movement. Every muscle feels sore, as if you’ve been through something physically draining. Your feet touch the cool floor, and you slowly stand, swaying slightly as the room spins for a moment. Steadying yourself, you look around, eyes settling on the door.

You have to investigate. You need to understand what is happening.

Just as you take a step toward the door, it swings open with a soft creak. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat as a new figure enters the room.

It is a woman, dressed sharply in a tailored black suit that contrasts her bright orange bob cut. She moves with an air of quiet confidence, her eyes locking onto yours with a steady, calm gaze. She seems close to your age, though something about her presence feels more mature, more composed.

“Hello,” she says, her voice smooth and professional. “My name is Adora. Apologies, as Mr. Agust had to step out unexpectedly, but he kept me up to speed with everything going on and told me to help care for you in the meantime.”

You blink, taking in her words, still processing the situation.

Mr. Agust? That’s his name?

Adora approaches the small table by the bed and sets down a neatly folded bundle of clothes. “I’ve brought you some clothes,” she adds, gesturing toward the bundle. “I imagine you’d want to change into something more comfortable.” She glances at you, wearing a white spaghetti-strapped nightgown. Yeah, you need to change out of this.

“Who… who is Mr. Agust?” you ask, your voice hoarse from disuse. The question has been burning in your mind ever since you woke up.

“Oh! The man who was just in here before me. Agust D,” she says happily. “He’s been looking after you since… well, since the incident.”

“The incident?” you repeat, confused. “What happened to me?”

Her smile fades, and a shadow of concern crosses her features. “I’m afraid that’s something only Mr. Agust can explain to you. He’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

She steps back, giving you space, and nods toward the clothes again. “Go ahead and take a shower before changing. I’ll wait outside if you need anything.”

And once again, you are left alone.

You grab the bundle of clothes, the fabric soft under your fingers as you unfold them. A white, long-sleeved collared shirt, a plaid skirt, and knee socks—an odd combination. Your brow furrows. Is this a school uniform? The thought seems out of place, considering everything else, but you push it aside. Right now, getting cleaned up and dressed feels like the first step toward reclaiming some control.

There is a small door beside your bed that leads to a bathroom. You open it and are greeted by a modest, clean space. The tiles are cool beneath your feet as you walk toward the shower. Your mind feels murky, still clouded by the lack of memory, and every detail around you seems both unfamiliar and strangely mundane at the same time.

As the hot water sprays down from the rain showerhead on the ceiling, you stand still for a moment, letting the warmth wash over you. It feels good, the steam wrapping around your sore muscles, loosening the tension that has built up since waking. Slowly, you begin to move, running your hands through your hair, watching the water swirl around your feet. You glance down at your body, your movements still careful, as though you fear something is waiting beneath the surface of your skin.

And then, you notice them—bruises. Small, fading marks dot your legs and arms, some yellowing at the edges, others still dark purple. Scrapes, too, healed over but unmistakable, mar your skin. You gently touch one on your forearm, wincing at the slight sting.

What happened to you? Frustration bubbles up inside you, making your throat tight. Every mark tells a story, a piece of the puzzle that should be obvious. But all you have are fragments, and none of them make sense.

You close your eyes, trying to summon any trace of a memory, something that could explain the bruises, the scrapes, the pain in your muscles. But there is nothing. Just emptiness.

Your hands shake slightly as you rinse off, the water turning from soothing to overwhelming. You finish quickly, the hot steam doing little to quell the storm of confusion and frustration rising within you.

Stepping out of the shower, you catch your reflection in the small, fogged-up mirror. You wipe it with your hand, staring at yourself, but the person staring back looks just as lost. No answers. No clarity.

With a sigh, you turn away and dry off, pulling on the strange outfit—first the crisp white shirt, then the plaid skirt and knee socks. The uniform fits well enough. Did you used to wear this before as well? You're left wondering too many things...

After slipping into a comfortable pair of slippers that you find beside the bed, you step out of the room for the first time. The hallway greets you with a soft, dim glow, revealing that evening has settled in. Shadows dance across the walls as you cautiously make your way forward.

Adora is sitting in a chair by your door, casually scrolling through her phone. At the sound of your footsteps, she looks up, her orange hair catching the light.

“Miss! All done? Do you need anything?” she asks, standing up swiftly with an attentive smile.

“Yeah, all done,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I just... want you to show me around. I’m having a little trouble recalling some things.” You hesitate, wary of revealing too much. If people know about your memory loss, they could use it against you. But surely Adora had been informed by Agust D beforehand, right?

Adora’s eyes softened. “No worries, Mr. Agust did mention this detail to me.”

You’re correct.

“I’ll show you around and get you updated on the things I’m cleared to inform you on,” she adds.

Cleared? The word hangs in the air, making you wonder just how much is being kept from you. Still, you nod. “That’s fine.”

Adora leads the way down the hall, and your tour begins. The mansion is far larger than you anticipate. As you move from room to room, it becomes clear that this place is no ordinary home. The architecture is grand, with high ceilings and long corridors lined with dark wood paneling and expensive-looking art. Every room seems carefully designed, exuding luxury and power.

Your bedroom is relatively simple compared to the rest of the mansion—modest in size with muted tones, though the bed is large and soft. Across the hall, Adora points out Mr. Agust’s room. Unlike yours, it is locked, and she makes no attempt to open it. The door itself is dark wood, with intricate carvings around the frame. You can only imagine what is inside.

Next, she leads you to his office. It’s a spacious room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a grand desk made of polished mahogany, and a large window overlooking a courtyard. Papers and files are neatly stacked on the desk, though Adora makes no comment about what they contain. The room has an air of importance, almost like a command center.

The kitchen and dining area are expansive. The kitchen, spotless and gleaming, is staffed with a few workers who nod politely as you pass. The dining room is more formal, with a long table capable of seating at least a dozen people. Crystal chandeliers hang overhead, casting warm light across the room.

The living room is one of the most impressive spaces—a large, open area with plush leather sofas, a marble fireplace, and a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The windows here are larger, revealing a darkening city skyline.

“Where are we?”

“We’re in Bangkok. Thailand.”

Bangkok? You know what that place is, but it’s not a location you expected to be in.

As you explore, you begin to notice more people moving through the mansion—mostly bodyguards, dressed in black and stationed at various points. Most of them seem to be Korean, their stoic expressions and quiet movements blending into the background. It’s strange to see so many of them here. A mansion in Thailand, filled with Koreans—it doesn’t add up.

Your curiosity gnaws at you, but you know Adora isn’t the right person to ask. Whatever this is, it feels delicate. You’ll have to wait for Mr. Agust.

After what feels like hours of walking through corridors and staircases, Adora finally leads you to the dining room, gesturing for you to sit at the long table.

“I received word that Mr. Agust has just arrived,” she says, offering you a gentle smile. “You’ll meet him here. The staff has set out some tea and desserts for you while you wait.”

You look at the table. A silver tray holds a pot of tea and an assortment of small pastries. The aroma is sweet and comforting, but the anticipation makes your hands tremble slightly as you reach for a cup and serve yourself some tea.

“I’ll come back to join you two, along with some of the other guards,” Adora continues. “Mr. Agust will be here shortly.”

Interesting. You’re not sure what to make of this situation.

The dining room grows quieter as you sit alone with your thoughts, nibbling on a cookie to stave off the nerves.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoes through the hallway outside the dining room. You freeze, your pulse quickening as the door swings open. A group of men enters, all dressed in dark suits, their expressions stern and composed. They move in unison, fanning out to take seats around the table, but one man stands out from the rest.

Agust D

He strides in with a commanding presence, his sharp eyes surveying the room as he walks. There’s an air of authority around him that makes the space feel smaller. His dark hair is slicked back, his expression unreadable as he takes the seat at the head of the table.

The sleeves of his shirt are stained red… You don’t want to know if that’s blood, but it’s the only thing you can assume.

Adora re-enters the room soon after, gliding in with her usual grace. She takes her seat across from you, her calm demeanor unwavering as she folds her hands in front of her. The tension in the room is thick, though it seems invisible to her.

Agust turns to you, his gaze piercing but calm. "I hope you’re feeling a bit more settled," he says, his voice low and even.

Yeah, sure, settled, you think, fighting the urge to laugh. Settled is the last thing you feel in this... “house.”

You nod slowly, feeling the weight of the room pressing down on you. “Yeah, I suppose,” you mutter, unsure how to respond. You reach for a cookie from the tray in front of you, more out of nervousness than actual hunger.

“I know this place might be overwhelming,” Agust continues, leaning back in his chair. “This is no ordinary home, as you’ve probably gathered by now.”

You swallow hard, the cookie crumbling slightly in your hands. No ordinary home is an understatement. The size, the guards, the secrecy—it all screams something far beyond the normal.

“To formally introduce myself, my name is Agust D. I’m the chief detective for the Asia-Pacific Police Force here in Bangkok. Comprised of officers from all Asia investigating international crime,” he says, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth as if daring you to believe him.

You nod slowly, though something about it doesn’t sit right with you. “That’s... interesting,” you begin carefully, “but I don’t think that’s all. There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“Smart girl. You’re sharp, I’ll give you that.” Agust’s eyes gleam, and a chuckle rumbles from his chest. “No, that’s not all.”

He leans forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “I am a leader of this mafia family you’ve been seeing.”

Your hand freezes mid-bite, the cookie slipping from your fingers and falling onto the table. Your heart skips a beat. Mafia? Your mind races. Organized crime? How the hell did you get involved in something like this? Fear snakes up your spine as your hands begin to tremble slightly. You can feel your throat tightening, your body responding to the panic rising inside you.

Agust’s eyes soften just a fraction, as if sensing your fear. “Relax,” he says, his voice calm, almost reassuring. “I’m not going to hurt you... you’ve been working for me for quite some time before all of this, after all.”

“Working for you?” you echo, incredulous. None of this makes sense. You shake your head, unable to comprehend. “Me? I... I don’t think so. I mean why would I–”

Agust’s smile returns, and he leans back in his chair, his hand disappearing beneath the table. “It is you,” he says firmly, interrupting you. Without warning, he tosses something across the table.

You flinch, instinctively reaching out to catch it—your hand closing around the handle of a heavy object. What the— A sword? Its weight is oddly familiar in your grip. You stare at it, eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat. The scabbard is intricately decorated with a blossom pattern that triggers something deep within you, something familiar.

You’ve seen this before... You’ve used this before.

Grainy and fragmented memories burst through your mind of a time when you’d used this. “Go ahead,” Agust says, his voice quiet but commanding. “Try it out.”

As if under a trance, your fingers move on their own, sliding the blade free from the scabbard. The polished metal gleams in the low light, its sharp edge whispering of battles fought and blood spilled. Before you realize what is happening, you have gotten onto the dining table, moving with fluid precision toward Agust that startles even you.

The bodyguards around the room react instantly, rising from their chairs and drawing guns, all pointed at you. But you don’t stop. You can’t stop. Your body moves on its own, and within a second, you are standing over Agust, the tip of your blade mere centimeters from his throat.

The room is dead silent. Agust doesn’t flinch. He merely raises a hand, a calm gesture to his men. The bodyguards look at him in hesitation, but slowly lower their weapons, keeping their eyes trained on you.

A chuckle escapes his lips. “Did that jog your memory?” he asks, his eyes gleaming with amusement, as if he has been waiting for this moment.

You stare down at him, your chest heaving, adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I... only a little…?” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the sword in your hand feels so familiar, so right, but your mind is still a blur of confusion.

“So much bloodlust you’ve got hidden in those eyes. Are you going to cut me down this time, doll?” he asks, his voice teasing, yet there’s a glint of seriousness behind his eyes.

This time? What does he mean by “this time”?

Despite the odd question, your heart skips a beat.

“W-What?!” you stammer, not understanding what he means. You pull the blade away, stepping back and lowering it to your side. Your hands are still shaking.

Agust smirks but says nothing more about it. Instead, he leans back, seemingly unfazed by how close he has come to death. “So, do you want some of the answers I can provide?”

Enough of this cryptic stuff.

You blink, still trying to process what just happened. “Are you actually going to answer me this time?” you ask, your voice sharper than intended.

Agust chuckles, clearly enjoying this more than you are. “That depends on what you want to know.”

“Hmm…” You hesitate for a moment while Agust signals his men to sit back down. They sit down, resume their positions, and the tension in the room seems to dissolve as if nothing happened just moments ago.

“Now tell me, doll,” Agust says, leaning forward, his eyes locked onto yours with a predatory intensity.

“First of all, who am I? Why do you keep calling me ‘Doll’?” you shoot back, your tone sharper than intended.

Agust lets out a deep breath, almost as if your question bores him. “You don’t have a name, as far as I know, so I call you doll. It’s cute, isn’t it?”

You give him an exasperated roll of your eyes, and he chuckles, as if he expects nothing less. “But besides me, everyone else calls you ‘Dove’—your code name.”

“Why am I here?” you press on, hoping for a more substantial answer.

Agust’s grin grows wider. “Great to see you moving on to this point,” he says, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. “I’m protecting you. Your life is at stake, actually.”

You scoff. “Protecting me from…?”

“Someone.” His tone is vague, and your irritation flares at his refusal to offer more.

“Could you be any more vague?” you mutter, rolling your eyes again, daring him to give you something concrete. “Who is it?”

Agust’s expression shifts, his jaw tightening slightly. He clearly isn’t used to being questioned like this. Just as he opens his mouth to respond, one of the bodyguards at his side, a man with sharp features and an intense gaze, speaks up.

“I don’t think you should ask that right now,” he says firmly. “Just for the sake of your life.”

“Yijeong,” another bodyguard—a much older man with long black locks of hair—warns in a low voice.

Yijeong shrugs, his eyes unwavering. “I’m just looking out for her safety.” It doesn’t sound sincere, to be completely honest.

Agust gives a subtle nod, silencing the exchange with a single glance. Then he turns back to you, his gaze slightly softened. “Anyway, it’s exactly as I said,” he continues, his voice smooth, almost practiced. “As part of my daytime role, I’m a detective. And I’m also an underground mafia boss.”

You stiffen, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a shroud. He isn’t done. “The person after you wants something that you hold the key to—something that we both want.” His tone is steady, a faint glint of ambition in his eyes. “I met you a few years ago and decided to let you live here, by my side, in hopes of finding it.”

You take a shaky breath, your mind reeling as you try to process this. “And I’ve been here ever since… as your right-hand man?”

Agust leans forward, his voice low yet intense. “That’s right. You were essential to our operations. I need you back in action, though. There’s a lot at stake here. We need to find this thing as soon as possible and get rid of this other person trying to kill you.”

You try to wrap your head around the idea that you’ve been living a life entrenched in the shadows of the criminal underworld, working closely with Agust and his organization—yet you can’t remember any of it. The weight of it presses heavily on you, disbelief twisting in your gut.

“So, you’re telling me,” you begin, your voice slightly unsteady but determined, “that I’ve been involved in this… mafia life all this time and now, because of some freak accident that you won’t disclose, I have not a single memory of it?”

“Precisely.” His eyes are fixed on you, unwavering. “Once you start easing into things again, I’ll tell you,” he says, his voice gaining an edge, “but now, I need you to decide.”

The frustration bubbles up within you, and without fully realizing it, you blurt out the most pressing question in your mind. “And what if I refuse?”

“Refuse?”

“Yeah, I mean, this sounds great and all… but I’m not about this mafia life and fighting whatever gang rival you have. Maybe you are mistaken about me.”

“Then…” A dangerous gleam flashes in Agust’s eyes, and before you know it, his hand moves beneath the table. In one swift motion, he pulls out a sleek, polished handgun, the metallic click echoing as he cocks a bullet into the barrel. You flinch, eyes widening as he aims it in your direction, his expression dark but laced with amusement.

“I’ll just kill you right here.” He pauses, letting the threat hang in the air before he lets out a dry laugh.

Holy shit.

What the fuck is that switch-up!?

You knew this man is insane, from the moment he handed you a katana and nearly let you cut him down.

He chuckles softly, an unsettling sound that made your heart race even faster. “Honestly, this could work in my favor anyway.”

Agust tilts his head, eyes narrowing as he keeps the gun trained on you. "Then he will never get his hands on you. Ending it here sounds like a fine choice, doesn’t it?” His tone is almost casual, as if he were discussing nothing more consequential than the weather.

Your throat feels tight, but you hold his gaze, refusing to back down. His words hang in the air, blending with the heavy silence of the room. The other men seated at the table look on, stone-faced, while Adora remains calm, her eyes studying you carefully. You can tell she’s a little worried for you.

“You really think you can just kill me off?” you manage, trying to mask the tremor in your voice. “All this talk about me being your right hand, about me holding the key to something you need. If I’m that important, you can’t just get rid of me. Then you’ll never find what you’re looking for.”

Agust’s lips curl into a smirk. “Oh, doll, I like that fire,” he says, lowering the gun ever so slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. Great, just what you need—a compliment from your potential murderer. “You’re right. I can’t just let you go that easily.”

He leans back, his gaze unwavering as he places the gun on the table, almost within reach yet tantalizingly out of yours. “Let’s make something clear,” he continues, his voice softening yet holding that sharp edge. “You’re right. You’re valuable to me, too valuable to throw away—at least for now.”

For now? That’s comforting. What does ‘for now’ even mean in this context? You thought you were friends for a long time by now. Doesn’t sound like it from this.

The tension in the room lessens slightly, though your pulse is still racing. Agust’s words feel like a reprieve, but only just; you know there’s always another game behind his every sentence, and the stakes are dangerously high.

“Alright,” you reply, forcing a bit of calm into your voice. “Then tell me more. You say I’m the key to something… What is it exactly?”

Agust shrugs, crossing his arms, his expression unreadable. “For now, let’s say it’s a treasure—one that’s extremely valuable to both me and… other interested parties.” He gives a small, almost lazy wave of his hand, brushing off the details as if they’re minor inconveniences.

“Other interested parties?” you press, sensing he’s holding back. “Like the person you’re supposedly protecting me from?”

Agust’s eyes narrow slightly, as though debating just how much he wants to divulge. He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair, and gives a curt nod.

“Yes, exactly like that person. But don’t worry about…them,” he says, his voice dipping lower, almost like a threat wrapped in reassurance. “With me around, you’re safe. They won’t touch you. Besides, doll, you led them on quite a chase right before the accident that happened to you….And now, they know better than to mess with one of the biggest mafias in Bangkok, especially one that has the police wrapped around its finger.”

The words settle over you like a heavy blanket, the weight of the implications sinking in. You haven’t just ended up here by chance, nor is this some benevolent offer of protection. The people after you aren’t merely rivals—they’re people who chased you, people you evaded in the past. And now, you’re under the protection of not just any organization, but a criminal empire with authority woven tightly into Bangkok’s very fabric.

“Wrapped around your finger?” you echo, incredulous but with a hint of fascination you can’t suppress.

He smirks, leaning back in his chair as though he’s merely recounting a successful business venture. “Yes, Bangkok’s finest wouldn’t dare cross me. I’m a chief detective, after all. It’s all very convenient, don’t you think?”

Right, because every girl dreams of being involved with a chief detective who moonlights as a mafia boss. What’s next? A romantic comedy?

You feel your pulse throb in your temples in disbelief. “So that’s why they won’t come after me here?”

“Exactly,” he replies, his tone almost smug. “To come after you here would be a death sentence for them. And they know it.”

You mean, you can’t argue with that logic. Guess you’ll have to stick around this madness for a while.

You slowly slide off the table, feeling the lingering tension in your limbs as you settle back into your seat at the far end of the dining table. Agust watches you with that familiar smirk, clearly pleased with the subtle shift in your demeanor. Once seated, you exhale, steadying yourself before meeting his gaze again.

“And if you continue to stay here,” he begins, his tone softer but laced with intent, “there’s a chance your memories will eventually come back, piece by piece. Trying to leave and figure it all out on your own would be… risky, to say the least.”

He’s giving you an out, it seems, yet he isn’t. The faintest hint of a choice dangles in front of you, a chance to regain who you are—or escape before you learn too much.

Agust’s gaze never wavers. “If you want answers—if you want to understand what’s locked away in that mind of yours—staying is your best option.”

Adora’s gaze is unwavering as well, as though silently urging you to take Agust’s offer. You glance at the others around the table, all of them still and watchful, a powerful, immovable force surrounding you.

“And if I don’t stay?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs, though his eyes hold the barest glint of amusement. “Then I suppose you’ll be putting all that fire to good use. Running from a lot of people… including me.” His smirk softens, but his words are as sharp as ever. “The most dangerous game. It’s your choice, doll. But remember, what’s waiting for you out there isn’t likely to be as welcoming as here.”

Nice way to put it. A warm welcome with care followed by a bullet?

You lean back, trying to process everything. It’s surreal—being told you’ve been living some double life as the right hand to a mafia boss, that you’ve led people on a chase through Bangkok, and now, because of all this, there are people actively out to get you. Just yesterday… well, whenever “yesterday” is, you have no memory of this life. And now, Agust is offering you a choice. Either stay here and trust him to help you find yourself again, or leave and risk everything on your own.

You look down, hands fidgeting on your lap as you think it over. Realistically? You don’t have a lot of options. Even if you leave, where would you go? How would you survive with no memory of who you are? Just the idea of stumbling around Bangkok, a city you barely even remember, trying to outwit… whoever is after you seems like a suicide mission.

Besides, there’s something oddly reassuring about Agust, even if his methods are a bit terrifying. He doesn’t look like he’s about to pull any punches, and for some reason, that makes you trust him more. He isn’t hiding who he is or what he’s capable of, and he isn’t sugar-coating the risks. The entire mafia thing is insane, sure, but something in you stirs with a strange familiarity when he speaks about it. It’s as if you’ve known all along, buried somewhere deep down.

You steal another glance at him, noting how he’s watching you, calm and expectant. He isn’t pushing you, just waiting for you to come to a conclusion.

Finally, you sigh and look up, meeting his gaze. “Fine,” you say, exhaling as if to release the last bits of resistance. “I’ll stay. You protect me, and I… I’ll do whatever I did before and help you get what you’re looking for. If this is my best chance at getting those memories back, then I’ll take it.”

A satisfied smile curves Agust’s lips. “Good girl. I knew you’d come around.”

Adora, who’s been watching from across the table, gives a small and excited nod, and the other bodyguards exchange glances. The tension in the room eases, like the whole crew has been waiting for your decision.

“All right, then,” you say, half to yourself. “Guess I’m back to… whatever this is.”

Agust chuckles. “Welcome back to the family.”

–

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a/n: thank you so much reading! apologies for the very dialogue heavy first chapter in this series as I needed to set up the vibe and expectation of reader and Agust D. We'll get more into the mafia bitty gritty in the next chapter as well as eventual smut in later chapaters for these two before shit goes down hehehehe im sorry it'll be a bit of a wait since it's slow burn... but there will be a ton of charged up tension leading into it heheheheh

i had planned to release this earlier this month but after a very intensive job hunt for the past year + 7 months, i finally found a new job! yay! cries... so future updates will take some time. but please please feel free to send me your thoughts or suggestions on things you'd like to see in this series in the future and i will make sure to incorporate it. :) until next time!

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