#tatted yoongi

[sugaflake]

Poison | myg [m]

One.

Summary: A dark stranger with an even darker secret crosses your path. 

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader 

Word count: 4312 

A/N: The biggest thank you has to go my best friend, @jeonsjiddies​ for always encouraging and pushing me to write. This has been the first fic I’ve actually put out and posted out of the countless ideas I’ve rambled off to her and stored away. Her fic Toxic is ultimately what sparked this idea - please go read it, it’s amazing. She’s my forever beta reader and editor, and I can’t thank her enough <3

Warnings: swearing, alcohol use, degradation, fingering, handjob, exhibitionism, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, cream pie, piercings (male genatalia), porn with *some* plot, dirty talk, dom!yoongi, rough sex

“You need to actually get out and meet some new people. You need to get out of this musty-ass apartment.” Your best friend since childhood, Morgan, and the biggest pain in your ass right now threw open the curtains in your bedroom, allowing some natural light to stream in. “And when was the last time you showered?”

“No, I don’t want to,” you whined as you threw yourself back against the pillows, pulling the covers over your face, “I’m perfectly fine in my musty-ass apartment with my pain in the ass friend who just let herself in, rude by the way, and I showered yesterday, not that it’s of any concern of yours.” 

Morgan ripped the covers from the bed and off of your face. 

“You never do, not anymore. Not since your breakup.”

You shot her a glare. You wanted to say something, you opened your mouth to, but quickly closed it before pulling your knees to your chest and buried your head there. You didn’t want to look at how depressing or destroyed your room looked. No longer did it share memories of you and your boyfriend. No longer did it have any warmth or love. All it harbored now was loss, angst, ripped pictures and T-shirts, and lost echoes of remembrance. You felt the bed shift as Morgan took a seat beside you, pulling you into a hug. “Y/N, I know your breakup with Minho has been really hard on you.”

“Yeah, easy for you to say. Jimin would never cheat on you.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” You looked up at her, eyes beginning to fill with tears. 

“The point is, you need to try and put it behind you. I know it’s hard. It’s not going to be easy, but you’ve got to try.” 

“I don’t want to. I’ll just die alone and lonely. I’ll never find someone or be like you and Jimin.”

“You’re right,” she said with a little laugh, “you won’t be like me and Jimin. You’ll be like you and whoever you find. You’re you and I’m me. Besides, you like all that weird kinky shit, you need someone who can satiate that weird,” she waved her hands in your general direction, trying to find the right words, “whatever it is you’ve got going on in that funky-ass brain of yours.” 

You both laughed.

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” she said as she got up and headed to the closet, throwing the doors open.

“I suppose.” You watched your best friend rifle through your closet looking for the skimpiest thing possible to wear. “So where exactly are you wanting to drag me off to?”

“There’s this new club that’s downtown! It’s apparently really exclusive and it’s really hard to get into. Jimin knows the owner, so he managed to get us in!”

“Of course he does and of course he did.”

Jimin was right, this new club wasn’t like any of the others you’d been to. It definitely was more high class than any of the ones you’d ever visited. The name, Venom, seemed to clash with the vibe the club was trying to go for, but was likely just right for the seedy underbelly type of people that would frequent. 

You leaned into the large cushions of the booth you’d been thrown into by Morgan and Jimin, fruity drink in hand. You sighed as you watched the two blissfully and drunkenly grind each other senseless on the dance floor, not a care in the world. You pulled your phone from your clutch and went straight to Minho’s Instagram page. Your heart sank as you scrolled through the images of him looking happy, arm looped around another girl’s waist. The girl he’d been cheating on you with. The girl you stupidly believed was “just a friend”. There was a part of you that wanted to just curl up in a ball and cry. But there was also a part of you that wanted to set his house on fire with him and that little bitch inside of it.

Groaning, you downed your drink, about ready to wave the waiter down for another one. As much as you didn’t want to really be at the club, at least Jimin managed to get you guys in the VIP section with unlimited drinks you didn’t have to pay for. If you were going to be forced to be here watching your best friend and her boyfriend be gross and not think about your stupid ex and his stupid bitch, you weren’t going to be sober. 

Yoongi leaned against the bar, swirling his whiskey in his glass, eyes scanning the room. He didn’t see what the big deal about this club was. It seemed like every other club he’d ever been to. Bored assholes with too much money bribing their way in, drugs on their lips and in their veins, cocks hard for drunk girls who can barely stand up. 

He watched as couples humped each other drunkenly, stumbled across the floor, and made their way to private rooms. It was all typical behavior.

Except for one. 

One girl caught his attention. One girl with curls falling down her bare shoulders. A girl sitting by herself looking as though she were absolutely miserable and waiting for the ground to swallow her whole. 

Yoongi downed his whiskey and motioned for another one before he slowly walked a little closer, tilting his head to the side, watching the girl scroll through her phone. 

“Stupid fucking piece of shit,” she seethed, continuing to scroll, “she’s not that pretty… I mean I guess she is, but whatever. I hope you’re fucking happy, you douchebag and little bitch. I could just fucking… ngghh!” 

She threw her phone back in her bag, chugging the pink drink the waiter had just given her. A smirk crept across Yoongi’s lips. ‘Now she seems like she could be some fucking fun.’

Dark eyes continued to watch the girl as she sat alone. His eyes traced over the small tattoos that littered her shoulders, He continued to wait a little while longer to see if anyone would join her. He could tell she hadn’t come alone, having spotted another purse. After several minutes of no one joining her, Yoongi decided to take this opportunity to make a move. 

Your eyes scanned the dance floor, having totally lost your friends somewhere in the haze of lights, fog, and music. Your head started to feel a little fuzzy after the last watermelon margarita you deep throated in negative three seconds. So far the night was a bust. Your friends had abandoned you to be horny teenagers, which you couldn’t blame them (even though you wanted to). You’d wasted a clean pair of clothes and a shower. You honestly were ready to call it quits and crawl back into your bed in your musty-ass apartment. 

Just as you were resigning yourself to gather your shit and go - a hot, scratch that, a very hot tattooed man with piercings, dark hair and dark eyes slid into the booth beside you. “I think you might be at the wrong table.”

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. His hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, making you shiver. “I saw you from over at the bar. You looked bored.” 

“I got ditched by horny love birds,” you rolled your eyes with a withering smile. 

“We love that.”

“No we don’t,” you laughed as you tucked some hair behind your ear. 

The man with dark hair leaned close to your ear, his dark hair falling in his eyes, “why don’t we ditch your horny love birds and make our own fun?” 

He wrapped his arm around the back of the booth, ringed fingers lightly touching the skin of your shoulders.  The sultriness of his voice and the heat of his touch caused you to shiver once more. And that wasn’t the only thing beginning to shiver. You cleared your throat and crossed one leg over the other. “And what exactly did you have in mind?” 

A smirk crept across his lips, exposing his gums. He reached his other hand over and began slowly drifting lazy figure eights with his fingers up your bare leg, slowly working his way from up your knee to your thigh. Your cheeks began to feel warm, and it wasn’t too long after a waiter came by and dropped off six shot glasses of varying colors, filled to the brim. He leaned in close again, planting his lips by your ear, “I’m sure you’re a smart enough kitten to figure that out,” he cooed, licking his lips. 

The tip of his tongue grazed the curve of your ear and you leaned into him with another shiver, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to keep the moan that threatened to escape. He was warm and fuck did he smell good. You cleared your throat once more and reached out and touched one of the shot glasses, trying to focus on anything besides the growing heat between your legs.

Had it really been that long since you’d had any physical touch since your breakup? You’d tried to recall, not even remembering you having the willpower to please yourself. ‘Depressing.’

The dark haired stranger reached his long tatted arm out and pointed at the shots. “Three for you, three for me.” 

Your eyes looked at the varying colors of the glasses. You weren’t always a fan of shots. You always managed to pick the nastiest, most bitter ones. 

“What are they?” 

“This one’s Strawberry Starburst,” okay, sounds fruity, you didn’t mind the sound of that, “this one’s Buttery Nipple,” it had a thick layer of cream on top, surely it was good, “and this one’s a Wet Pussy.” 

Your eyes widened, flicking up to meet his. He looked down at you hungrily, dark hair covering his face, wicked grin creeping across his lips. That was all it took for your core to tighten. 

“So what do you say, kitten? Have some shots and some fun with me.” 

You stared at him for a long moment, the sounds of the club fading away briefly. This wasn’t the type of girl you normally were. You liked to build and take things at a decent pace. But he - whoever the hell he was - swooped in like a raven in the night and knocked that wall down. Jesus Christ on roller skates he was hot as hell. And it had been so long. 

Fuck it. 

“So ho-“

“Yes,” you cut him off before he could finish. Fuck it. You wanted this. You needed this. Maybe it would help you get out of your little funk and you could go back to living a normal life. 

“Well all right, then.” The dark haired stranger pulled the first pink shot glass towards the both of you. He wrapped his veiny hand around the small glass and slightly lifted it from the table, waiting for you to do the same. Your heart pounded in your chest, as you took the same shot in hand. 

“Bottoms up,” he said, bringing the glass to his lips. 

You had no idea just how literal that term would become. 

The fruity alcohol sent a warm heat down your throat as you kicked back the first shot. It was good, better than expected. Without much prompting, you grabbed the second glass and waited for the stranger to do the same. 

“Eager little one, aren’t you?” 

You clenched your legs together a little tighter, your cheeks heating once more. You both had your shots in hand, each tossing them back like the first. The second shot tasted even better than the first, and a wobbly heat began to come over you, settling in your legs. 

You looked up at the stranger, sweat damp curls pinning to your neck. “You seem more eager than me, plying me with drinks.” 

You could tell you were slurring ever so slightly, the words leaving your lips at a slow pace. You could handle your alcohol somewhat decently, but the addition of three strong shots one right after another would be the tipping point.

A sultry, deep growl washed over you as the stranger slightly traced his tongue along the shell of your ear, “don’t start something you know you can’t finish, kitten.” He ever so lightly grazed his lips against your neck, only causing the pesky throbbing between your legs to strengthen. 

He pulled the third and final shot glass towards you. He wrapped his large calloused fingers around yours and brought the purple drink to your lips. “This kitten,” he cooed, pressing his lips to your neck once more, “this is how I’m going to leave you.” 

FUCK. 

He ran the sticky rim of the glass against your bottom lip with one hand, while the other slowly snaked its way to just beneath the hem of your skirt. Your breath hitched, catching in your throat. Some of the drink dribbled down your chin and chest. “Such a messy little girl you are,” he chided with a smirk. He moved his hand from the hem of your skirt to wipe the alcohol from your chest before popping his fingers in his mouth, “mmm, sweet.”

“Mmnf…” you whined as you clenched your shaking legs as close as they could get, rubbing them together to get some mild semblance of relief. Who the fuck was this guy, and what the fuck had he done to you in such a short amount of time? You clenched your free hand into a fist, nails digging into the soft flesh of your palm. Your chest rose heavily as you took a ragged breath. It took all the self restraint you had from shoving his hand between your legs right then and there.

Fuck it. 

You grabbed his hand and pulled it back towards the direction of your skirt, pushing it beneath the fabric and slowly towards your now dripping core. Your eyes desperately searched his begging for his touch. You were sitting in the middle of a busy nightclub with a random stranger all but tipsy on however many drinks you’d had previously, two shots and one more to go with his hand you’d shoved up your skirt, begging for him to finger you and you absolutely didn’t fucking care. Heat and hunger radiated through your body as you looked down at the strained but clearly thickly tented erection growing beneath the tight black jeans. 

The dark headed stranger swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, that damned sexy smirk appearing once more as he lightly ran his middle finger up the once dry lace. “You really are a messy little girl, aren’t you?” He pulled his hand away once more, the action extracting a mewling whine you hated yourself for making. He licked the wetness from his finger, “I’m not sure what’s sweeter, the drink or you.”

You squirmed beneath him, feeling like you might explode at this point if you don’t get something - anything. For the briefest of moments, your ex came to mind. Not once in the four years of your relationship had he managed to reduce you to a whimpering withering mess without even touching you like this random stranger had.

“Please…” you whined, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, your nose falling into the crook of his neck. The smell of him absolutely intoxicated you. The faint smell of cigarettes lingered on his breath and clothes mixed with a cologne that had a biting freshness and some kind of animal sensuality that you were finding very hard to resist. Morgan always said you were gross for liking the smell of cigarettes, but you didn’t care. You loved it. You breathed deep, dying to sink your teeth into the vein that throbbed. 

A deep, throaty laugh escaped the stranger as he lifted your chin with his finger. He leaned in close, eyes level with yours. Your pupils were blown wide, chest heaving, legs practically wide open for the entire club to see. “Good girls finish their drinks first.”

In the haze, you’d all but forgotten the last shot that left sticky remnants on your lips and down your chest. You nodded like the good girl you were and bit your bottom lip. You looked at the glass that he still held. The purple liquid taunted you, your head already dizzy. Honestly thinking you wouldn’t have the strength to hold the glass, you stupidly parted your lips, eyes stuck on his. 

“Mm, yes, that’s a really good little girl.” He pressed the glass to your lips and tipped it back, pouring the sweet liquid down your throat. You leaned your head back some to swallow, eyes never leaving him. He curled his lips into a wicked snarl exposing his teeth and gums that left a devastating pang to your already tightly wound core. He picked up his shot and knocked it back with ease, tossing the glass on the table. 

His lips enveloped yours, tongue fiercely pushing its way in. The taste of alcohol washed over you as you sucked on his tongue desperately, whining into his mouth. Without warning, he slipped his hand beneath your skirt, past the ruined panties and straight into your soaking heat. You gasped in his mouth from the sudden touch, but definitely wasn’t prepared for the feel of two very strong fingers pushing their way in. He gagged you with his tongue, pumping his calloused fingers in and out with a harshness you weren’t used to but desperately craved. 

Your body shook as you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you, blocking you further from any prying eyes. But at this point, you honestly didn’t care. This stranger could splay you out for all to see and you’d be perfectly fine with it. 

He pulled away from your mouth, a string of saliva pulling between the two of you, “you like this, don’t you, kitten? You like that I can get you off and so wet with all these people watching. You like the fact that I got you off and didn’t even touch you, you little slut.”

Your whine was a little louder this time, your entire body shaking. You planted your face into his neck again, fingers making a mad grab for the arms of his tank top. 

He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. 

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes…”

“Yes what?”

“Sir… Yes sir!” you croaked as you pulled your hands from his top, trying to cover your embarrassment with your arms. 

“Nah.” With his free hand, he pulled your hands from your face and over your head, “I know you like this, you little exhibitionist. I know you like the idea of me fingering you into submission right here in this booth.”

You hated the fact that he was right. You hated the fact that this was turning you on in a major way. What sort of witchcraft had this stranger performed on you to make you such a whimpering little simp? You were never like this with Minho or any other boyfriends for that matter. This was never something you’d imagine ever doing. But right now, there was a dark excitement that filled you, and you absolutely were living for it. 

A few more rough pumps and you were practically screaming, shaking, convulsing almost, hips bucking into his hand and riding the wave of white hot euphoria that washed over you. The only saving grace being the loud music cutting the two of you off from the rest of the club. 

You tried to steady your breathing as you shifted in your seat, cum dripping from your soaking cunt and ruined panties. You looked at the abandoned glasses littered on the table many toppled over from your greedy fit of needing to be touched. Your eyes turned back to face the dark haired stranger. He smirked, popping the fingers that were just inside of you in his mouth and sucking on them. Yet another whine escaped you while you watched him. You’d have assumed you’d be spent at this point, but some kind of hunger had been awakened in you, and you needed more. Shaky hands pawed at him as he pulled his fingers from his mouth.

“What?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side. Knowing full well what you wanted and needed. You bit your bottom lip and glanced down at his growing erection that was just dying to be released. You yourself were dying to know what else was in store for you. One of your hands slid to the bulge and you lightly squeezed it, keeping your eyes on him for his reaction. The guttural moan that left him was all it took to invite you for another squeeze, this one a little rougher than the last. “Remember what I said, kitten. Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he growled as he bit the side of your neck. 

“I’ll be a good girl…”

That was all it took to yank you from the booth and harshly and quickly pull you towards the bathroom, your bag with your fucking phone and keys completely forgotten. The only thing on your mind was where he was leading you. You watched as one guy came out of the single use bathroom and shoved the other guy who had been waiting out of the way. “Move.” 

You tried to not make eye contact with him as the stranger pulled you into the bathroom and locked the door behind you. His mouth immediately crashed into yours, your back roughly being pushed against the door with a thud. 

Your hands scrambled, trying to make quick work of the belt that held his pants tightly around his toned waist. He pulled away from you just enough to unbutton and unzip his jeans, sliding them and the dark gray boxer briefs partially down his thighs. His cock sprang up against his stomach, precum seeping from the swollen head. It was soft and pale like him, but long, thick, and veiny. The one thing you hadn’t expected was that it was pierced. Three horizontal bars consisting of a frenum ladder. Your mouth dropped open for a second. That would be a new experience. 

“Like what you see?” Your only answer was a nod before your hand immediately found purchase around the trunk of his cock, dragging your hand up and down, using the friction to your advantage as more precum dribbled down the sides. “Ff-fuck,” he growled, one of his hands twining through your curls. 

Core instantly throbbing, you pumped your hand several more times before moving your hand and all too gently tracing your finger down the length of his fully erect cock. It was your turn to smirk this time, but you were stupid for thinking you had the upper hand. You should’ve known better. 

“Oh, no, no. Dirty little girls like you don’t get to be in charge.” Reaching his hand between your legs, the stranger ripped the lacy panties in half at the crotch with absolute ease. The fabric flapped uselessly by your thighs, cum dribbling from your cunt. You opened your mouth to say something but were cut off by his hands wrapping themselves under your ass cheeks and lifting you to just above his eye level. “Bad little girls have to be punished for thinking they’re too big for their britches… or lack thereof.” 

That wicked, wicked smirk plastered across his lips once more as he rammed his hard dick deep into your wet pussy, using the door at your back to his advantage. 

You yelped, grabbing onto his back for support, nails digging into his bare shoulders. With the music muffled from the bathroom, your squelching sounds were much easier to hear, and it would’ve almost embarrassed you were you not being thrown into a stupor. Your back rammed into the door as he pounded into you and your legs wrapped around his waist, one heel falling from your foot from the intensity.

“I-I nnff…!” You bit onto his shoulder, feeling yourself tighten around his cock. With each movement, you felt the bars effortlessly slide along the sides of your walls, making it very hard for you to last much longer. 

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled in your ear, “show daddy how good your little slut cunt can be…”

You shuttered as one last drag and pound of his cock was all it took to throw you over the edge, creaming down the length of him. He took your mouth in his and kissed you through his own wave, bucking against you as he shot his load into you. He pulled himself from you, leaving you a dripping, wet mess with your ass and pussy exposed to the open air. You whined as you the felt the balls of the piercings slide from you, leaving you empty. 

“What a pretty little mess you are,” he cocked his eyebrow, licking his lips as he lowered you back to your feet. You stumbled for a second or two as you tried to gather yourself and quickly put your dropped heel back on your bare foot. Your core ached with overstimulation, but was so desperately begging for more. The stranger tucked himself back into his boxers and jeans, pulling them back over his hips and buttoning himself back in. 

Like that, his conquest was over and he was about to turn on his heel and leave, but you reached your hand out and grabbed his, pulling him back. “Wait…” His dark eyes looked your face over as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes even in your heels. “Take me with you.” 

[keehomania]

what if i just magically started writing kpop one-shots would that be character development or do u guys just want rafe backshot stories

[seokteoksworld]

im gonna throw up look at him flexing his arm 😩

goddamn

[dearlyjun]

CALL OUT MY NAME ☆ c. seungcheol

☆ PAIRING: slightly possessive boyfriend!cheol x reader (f)

☆ GENRE: NSFW (18+ readers only!!)

☆ SUMMARY: your ex boyfriend can’t seem to stop texting you lately; wouldn’t want to make your current boyfriend angry would you?

☆ WORD COUNT: about 1.8k

☆ WARNINGS: cheol is possessive in a protective way, mentions of an ex boyfriend that won't leave you alone, ex boyfriend is min yoongi, cheol has a deep voice, mentions of cheol working out, cheol is tatted, he wants to fight her battles for her (king), unprotected sex, different sex positions (cowgirl, kneeling missionary), semi voyeurism, clitoral stimulation, spanking (like once), cumshot, foul language, cheolie is very sweet at the end!! lmk if i missed anything!!

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: posting this in honor of @miupow’s birthday!! happy birthday, lia!! you’re one of my dearest friends (and moots) on here. im so glad we met!! and also shout out to lia for beta-ing her own bday fic and correcting my half asleep writing. yeah even i don’t know what was going on there.

BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST HERE!

You were setting a bowl of food and a glass of iced tea down on your kitchen island, when your laptop started ringing.

“Ah, Cheol, give me a minute!” You spoke out loud to yourself, quickly grabbing a fork before tapping your keyboard to accept the video call coming through.

“Hi, Cheolie.” You greeted in a sing-songy voice as he -was filled up your screen with a smile on his face.

Your boyfriend was in Japan on a business trip for a few days; scheduled to come home tomorrow. You both made it a routine to have dinner together every night over video calls.

“You look pretty.” He answered, his gaze never leaving you.

You giggled at his compliment. “You see me everyday.”

Seungcheol smirked. “And? You’re always pretty.” He motioned at your bowl that was in the camera frame. “What’s for dinner today?”

“Oh, um, spicy pork bibimbap. You know; my favorite. What are you having?”

Seungcheol pointed to some things on the table he was sitting at. “Tuna and rice with some spicy sauce and vegetables, and chicken.” He let out a laugh. “Kind of boring.”

You smiled at him before taking a bite of your food. “Did you go to the gym today? I saw the workout notification on my watch.” You referenced your activity sharing feature on your Apple Watch.

“Yeah, of course the last day I'm here I find this really nice gym.” Seungcheol rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food before speaking again. “I was so excited that I actually almost did a 400 pound deadlift.”

“Oh my god…” You were just as excited for your boyfriend’s gym achievements as he was.

“Hang on, I think I took some pictures.” He picked up his phone and was scrolling through some pictures. “Yeah, see?” Seungcheol turned his phone screen towards his computer so that you could see. He scrolled through pictures of the scenery of the gym, and some pictures in the mirror.

“I like that one.” You suddenly spoke up with a smirk on your face.

“Which one?” Seungcheol questioned before looking at his phone to see the one of him completely shirtless In the mirror, showing off his back that was beautifully adorned with muscles and his tattoo that you loved so much. “Oh with the tattoo?” He smirked, knowing fully well how much you liked it.

“Yeah.” You smirked, cheeks flushing like this was the first time you saw him. Seungcheol always seemed to have that effect on you.

“I didn’t go to the gym today, I went shopping instead.” You slightly laughed.

“Yeah, I saw the Amex notification.”Seungcheol joked, setting his phone back down. “Buy anything nice?”

You gasped, dramatically covering your face. “See! That's why I don’t like using it all of the time.” Seungcheol always let you use his credit card to treat yourself however you pleased, and sometimes you would buy clothing pieces that he’d like on you. Unfortunately, the notifications always went to his phone.

Seungcheol looked at his phone again, laughing at your dramatics. “It’s not like it shows me what you bought. It just tells me the store.”

“Well you’ll be home by evening tomorrow, right?” You questioned. “I’ll show you then. It’s–“

Your voice trailed off as suddenly a notification of a text message popped up at the top of your laptop screen. It was your ex boyfriend, Min Yoongi. For some reason he has been non stop bothering you lately; asking how you’ve been, if he can “catch up” with you. You ignored every one of his advances thus far, but you hadn’t said anything to Seungcheol.

“What’s wrong?” Seungcheol instantly noticed the change in your tone and expression. “You got so quiet all of a sudden.”

You sighed. “Cheolie, I hate you fighting my battles for me.”

“It’s my job.” Seungcheol quickly retorted. “What’s going on?”

“My ex boyfriend. Do you remember Yoongi?” Seungcheol nodded. “For some reason he’s been trying to get a hold of me; texting me like he wants something between us again.”

Seungcheol got closer to his computer, the tone in his voice suddenly deepening. “Show me the texts.”

You picked up your phone, showing him the screen of multiple texts to all of which you did not respond to.

“And you didn’t respond?” He questioned, reading the texts on your phone as you swiped through.

“No, I haven’t responded to any of them.” You answered.

“Okay.” Seungcheol spoke, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of himself. “I can’t get an earlier flight out. But If this happens again, I’m dealing with him.”

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock just like that baby.” Seungcheol sighed, looking down at his lap to where his cock was disappearing inside of your wet cunt. “Fucking use it.”

Seungcheol brushed your hair off of your shoulders for access to your collarbones; sucking and biting at your skin. You whimpered In response, combing your fingers through his dark hair and giving it a slight tug. That only egged him on more; letting out a low grunt.

Seungcheol gripped onto your hips, angling them forwards so that when you slammed down onto him, his cockhead would be hitting a different spot.

“Cheol! Fuck!” You cried out, reaching to hold onto Seungcheol’s sturdy frame before falling into his chest.

“Yeah, gonna fucking cum?” Seungcheol’s grip moved to your thighs as you whimpered; your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Look at me, look at me.”

You pulled yourself up, still using him for stability. You couldn’t fight your orgasm right now if you tried to.

Until your phone starts ringing, lost somewhere in the tangled bed sheets.

You jump, clearly startled by the ringtone playing at almost full volume.

“The fuck….?” Seungcheol muttered, eyes fixated on his wet cock disappearing in between your legs.

“Ignore it.” You hissed, lifting yourself up off of him enough so just the tip was inside of you, only to slowly sink back down to feel every inch of Seungcheol’s cock.

Seungcheol knew that was on purpose, yet he still let out one of the hottest moans to ever come out of his mouth.

“Give me that fucking phone.” Seungcheol spat, putting one arm around you to keep you in place as he rummaged around the sheets to his right.

He managed to find it despite your whining, looking to see that the screen read a phone number across it and not any caller ID.

Seungcheol shot you a glance before swiping the green icon at the bottom of the screen to pick up the call. He then put it on speaker phone.

“Who is this?” The tone in his voice was deep and oddly steady considering that you were still perched up on his lap with his cock inside of you.

“Y/N?” The voice on the other side of the phone said your name, startling you. You froze. It was Min Yoongi of all people that could be calling you.

You saw Seungcheol’s jaw clench as he heard another man say your name, but with his free hand he still gave your ass a light smack to keep moving.

“Why are you calling my girlfriend’s phone? I know who this is.” Seungcheol used his free hand to pinch one of your nipples between your fingers, making you whimper.

“I just wanted to talk…” Yoongi’s voice trailed off and you didn’t know what he said only because Seungcheol whispered to you to lie down onto your back.

You followed directions, wincing at the empty feeling between your legs when you were on your back. Seungcheol immediately pushed your knees towards your shoulders and kneeled in front of you, aligning his cock with your entrance once again.

“We can talk.” Seungcheol spoke to the phone while he was teasing your folds with the tip of his cock. You grabbed a hold the comforter with your left hand, desperate for something to hold onto.

“Cheol, fucking put it in. Please.” You whined loud enough to be heard through the phone. Seungcheol had a satisfied look on his face, nodding as he finally pushed himself inside of you slowly enough so you felt everything; all of him.

You threw your head back; arching your back against the bed. Seungcheol put his hand onto your stomach to keep you still, then moved it down slightly to stimulate your clit with his thumb. Letting out a strained moan, you nearly wanted to scream.

“Awful quiet there, Yoongi. That’s your name right?” Seungcheol’s voice was so deep that your core clenched around him tight. “What happened to talking?” You were sure that the noises of his cock sliding in and out of you could be heard on the phone by now.

“I mean, obviously I’m a bit busy right now.”

“Cheol!” Your voice startled even you. Not quite a scream, but more like a whiny moan. Seungcheol’s body was quickly against yours within mere seconds; with his weight pressing into you.

“Mhm, call out my fucking name baby.” Seungcheol’s lips ghosted over yours as he lightly kissed you, then he found your right hand that was gripping onto the comforter and laced his fingers with yours. “Let him and everyone else hear it.”

The call either dropped or your phone died because it was silent, but neither of you were paying any attention.

“Cheol! fuck!” You swore, and just like that you were cumming all over his cock; shaking as he kissed you sweetly all over your face.

Seungcheol was on the brink of cumming, and you could tell. So naturally, you used his weakness to your advantage. He always gave in when you begged him to cum inside of you; he’d never tell you no.

“Cheolie, cum in me….please.” You gripped onto his thick arms as he supported himself above you; following your words exactly as his breathing became unsteady.

“Shit…fuck.” Seungcheol panted, dropping his head and making his hair fall into his face. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling of him finishing inside of you.

The two of you were silent, and Seungcheol adjusted himself to not drop his entire weight onto you.

“I’m sorry, cheolie.” You muttered, running your fingers through his now messy hair.

He quickly had a concerned look on his face. “For what, princess? You didn’t do anything.”

You slightly laughed at the situation. “My ex is calling me, literally while we’re having sex.”

Seungcheol was smirking. “Yeah, but he’ll probably never call again.” He grabbed your hand, kissed the back of it, then kissed your face. “He should know that you’re mine.”

☆ TAGS: @lavnderwonu @dokyeomkyeom @https-yeonjun

[yooniivrse]

accidental meetings | myg

summary. navigating through awkward apologies and shared meals with your cute neighbour may promise more than just an unlikely friendship.

────

pairing: yoongi x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: (this note has been edited) this was supposed to be oneshot and it ended up being apart of a mini-series…idk how we got here, but here we are :> hope you guys enjoy reading!!

────

< prev • next > | series masterlist | main masterlist

────

Your knuckles rapped against the door rhythmically for the second time.

Your eyes were unfocused and blurry and you could barely stand properly, having to hold onto the wall to prevent yourself from stumbling.

Everyone knew that going out to drink on an empty stomach was a bad idea. The lack of food had let the alcohol take its effect on you much sooner than you had anticipated, and your stomach lowly grumbled at the lack of food.

But when Maya—your roommate—had eagerly dragged you out of your dorm as soon as you returned from dropping all of your study materials back at the library, you didn't have the heart to say no.

A part of you also wanted to celebrate the end of your exams differently. Usually, the end of exam season meant catching up on all the shows you sacrificed watching to study. But going out for drinking also seemed fun.

You regretted your decision the moment Maya abruptly left the club with a random tatted-up guy, leaving you alone amidst the sea of drunk strangers and sweaty bodies. You too, left soon after, not wanting to deal with any creeps that could sour your happy mood.

How you managed to get home in one piece, you weren't sure. You were sure, however, that you had paid the taxi driver double the amount that was due. The overwhelming need to fall into the comforts of your bed seemed to have dulled your thinking, which is why your only annoyance grew with every second that you spent outside your dorm, waiting for Ari—your other roommate—to let you inside.

"Yah, Ari! Let me in you freak!"

You brought your hand up to knock again when the door swung open.

"Fuck's sake, Ari, thought you—hic—thought you were gonna lock me out forev-."

Your slurred words are cut short when your gaze is lifted from the ground to the man who stood in front of you.

His hand rubbed at his eye while his other roughly ran through his hair in an attempt to tame the dark, tousled locks. He stared at you with furrowed brows.

You tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes.

"Did you shape-shift or something? What's up with yo—hic—your hair?"

You stepped closer to the stranger and reached out your hand when it dawned on you, hands freezing a few centimetres in front of his hair.

"Shit. You're not Ari, are you?"

The stranger shook his head.

"No, sorry. I think you got the wrong apartment."

His voice was deep and hoarse, still laced with sleep. You felt a pang of guilt in your stomach for waking him up in the middle of the night.

"But the door says seventeen though?"

You blinked blankly at him and another small hiccup escaped you as he looked up at the door. You followed his gaze to the bronze numbering which read seven and not seventeen.

"Shit, 'm so sorry for waking you up, I swear that it said seventeen, I'm really sorry."

Your hands came together in front of you as more apologies tumbled last your lips. Honestly, you barely knew what you were saying, but you felt your embarrassment taint your cheeks with a familiar warmth.

"It's fine, don't worry."

The man's words were awkward and you mumbled a final apology before you moved away. Your apartment was only ten doors down, but the carpeted hallway seemed to stretch out for an eternity. You couldn't deny the eerie feeling that clung to the cold lights and caused small goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

Fuck, you had seriously lost it.

You took a few steps with your hands dragging across the pale walls.

"Actually, do you want me to bring you down to your door?"

You look back to see the boy who had already closed his door behind him as he made his way to you. His skin was pale and it almost seemed to glow now that he had emerged from the shadows of his apartment.

Or maybe he was your guardian angel, and a ring of light was going to appear above his head. You were seriously considering the possibility. Why else would a random stranger be so kind to you?

"You really don't—hic—have, I've already disturbed you enough."

"I don't want to worry about you passing out in the hallway. I'm not sleepy anymore anyway, so it's fine."

You gave him an apologetic, timid smile.

"Thank you, uh-."

"Yoongi."

"Yoongi," you repeated. The words bounced off your tongue with ease.

You moved closer to him and ended up clinging to his arm instead of the walls. He lightly froze at your sudden touch but you don't notice.

Your steps are weak but you managed to get to your apartment with the help of his body that guided you.

Yoongi knocked on the door for you and Ari opened it within a few seconds.

"Ariiii!"

You tumbled into her hands and wrapped your arms around her in an uncomfortable embrace.

"Oh my God, ___?" Ari's eyes moved from you to the brunette who stood outside.

"Thank you so much! I'm very sorry if they said something," Ari said, offering the man an apologetic smile.

"No worries, it's fine." His hands rubbed against the back of his neck softly. "Have a good night."

"You too."

She closed the door sharply and Yoongi heard her voice scolding you as you simply giggled. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back to his apartment, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

He knew that he had seen you before—you were too memorable for him to forget. But to his frustration, he couldn’t exactly place when and where.

A small sigh left his lips as he knocked on his door. Leaving his keys inside wasn't ideal and he hoped that Jungkook would wake up to his knocks and let him in. However, he couldn't bring himself to regret walking you down the hallway or blame you for possibly being stuck outside for the rest of the night.

Instead, he found himself wishing to meet you again.

────

The elevator doors opened smoothly and you stepped outside, heaving a heavy bag of groceries in your arms. You supported the bottom of the thin plastic, begging the universe to not curse you and cause the plastic to rip a few doors away from your apartment. 

It had happened before and you still remembered the awkwardness in the air as you scrambled to grab a pack of pads as a group of boys walked past.

You scrunched up your nose and squeezed your eyes as the memory brought waves of embarrassment to course through you. You shook off the feeling as you began to walk along the empty hallway.

Except, it wasn’t exactly empty. Your eyes fell on a boy who sat crouched on the floor with his back against the wall. His dark hair fell in loose waves over his forehead and you noticed a silver earring that lightly glistened on one of his ears. You were sure that if it weren’t for the plaid, red shirt he wore, you would have missed his presence completely.

You unknowingly tilted your head to the side. His features were oddly familiar, from the curve of his nose to the shape of his narrow eyes and his plump bottom lip. 

He was pretty, you wouldn’t deny that. Even with the defeated look on his face.

As you got closer to his figure, realisation dawned on you. This was the guy who helped you to your apartment less than a few days ago.

You felt your cheeks turn warm.

You would’ve speed-walked to your apartment to avoid another possibly embarrassing encounter if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes had already met yours.

His eyebrows rose slightly in recognition and he immediately pushed himself to his feet and cleared his throat awkwardly.

You lick your lips before giving him a small smile. It was already too late to try and pretend you hadn’t seen him, so you went with the only option you had left; to walk over to him.

“Hi,” you said, keeping a smile on your face.

“Uh- hi.”

You had never wished for the ground to swallow you up more than you did at that moment. You were usually good with making awkward atmospheres comfortable, and you had no idea why your brain seemed to be malfunctioning.

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I ever got a chance to apologise to you properly for waking you up that night. I genuinely am sorry, I usually know my limits with alcohol and I don’t know what happened that day,” you said with a dry chuckle. 

Yoongi’s eyes crinkle into a soft smile and you swore that you felt your heart skip a beat. 

“And thank you so so much for bringing me to my apartment, I swear I would’ve ended up sleeping in the middle of the hallway if it weren’t for you!”

“It was nothing, don’t worry.” Yoongi waved his arm in the air as if he were swatting away your words. “I’m glad that I was able to prevent you from sleeping in the hallway.”

You both laughed and you noticed the way his smile stretched out to reveal his gums.

“Oh, I don’t think I got a chance to introduce myself. I’m ___.”

You shifted your groceries to one arm as you outstretched your other. Yoongi took it, his grip soft as he shook your hand. The touch lingered for a few seconds longer than it should have and even as you pulled back, you felt the ghost of his skin on yours.

“So, uh- what are you doing sitting outside your apartment?”

“Ah, that-.” He brought his hand to rest against the back of his neck sheepishly. “-I kinda got locked out. I don’t bother taking the keys since my roommates are usually home, but they’re out today and none of them are picking up their phone.”

As he spoke, his eyes glanced down at his phone. You noticed the array of cracks that spread across the black screen, mimicking the intricate pattern of a cobweb.

“Oh, I think know how you can get in.”

You had learned the hack from an action book you had read a few years ago. As you placed down your bag of groceries against the wall and fished out your wallet, you hoped that the hack wasn’t something that only worked in movies and books.

You looked through your cards and picked out the first unimportant-looking one you found, which happened to be a voucher for the new restaurant that had opened a few blocks down from your apartment complex.

You stepped forward and slid the card into the crack of the door where the handle was as Yoongi watched in curiosity.

You pressed down the card. It took more strength than you anticipated, as the lock didn’t move an inch. You tried again and you felt Yoongi take a step closer to you.

You begged the universe to be on your side. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of the only cute guy who had made an effort to talk to you.

“It’s fine, I can just wai-.”

The card slid down and a small click was heard as it pushed the lock back into the door.

“I can’t believe that worked,” you said, disbelief laced in your voice. However, the joy from your success was short-lived as the door opened up and your plastic card fell to the floor in small pieces.

“Oh my god, thank you so much, seriously.”

The excitement in Yoongi’s voice died down as soon as you turned back to look up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“No problem.”

“I’m sorry about the card,” he said and it was your turn to swat away his apologies.

“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I owed you anyway. I guess we’re even now.”

Yoongi nodded and stepped inside. He picked up the pieces of plastic from the ground and handed it to you, noticing the broken lettering which he worked out to spell the name of the new restaurant that had opened up nearby.

You picked up your bag of groceries from the floor.

“Again, thank you. See you around,” he said with a small wave of his hand.

“Bye!” You mimicked the wave.

Yoongi couldn’t ignore the pang of guilt that twisted in his stomach as he watched you walk away. The restaurant wasn’t exactly fancy, but it was expensive enough for a college student. He softly shut the door and brought his bottom lip between his teeth in thought.

Maybe he could make it up to you.

────

Yoongi was the last person you expected to be greeted by outside your door on a Tuesday evening. But there he stood, sporting a plain, white t-shirt under a denim jacket.

“Oh, hi! Was not expecting you,” you said. You didn’t realise how unwelcoming the words sounded until they tumbled from your lips, but Yoongi didn’t seem to catch on.

“Yeah, uh- Look, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that you broke your voucher tryna help me so I got you this as an apology.”

He held out a brown, paper bag in front of him and you realise that the lettering printed on it read the name of the restaurant. You caught a glimpse of the plastic packaging of takeaway which confirmed your suspicions.

“Yoongi, I couldn’t possibly take this. I helped you out because you helped me out, and the voucher wasn’t even that big of a deal, genuinely!”

You reached out your hand to push the bag towards him again, but his grip persisted.

“Please?”

The word fell from his lips softly, almost a whisper, and you felt your heart skip a few beats. His eyes fell on yours for a split second before he broke his gaze. You didn’t have it in you to reject his kind gesture, but at the same time, you felt guilty if you did accept it.

“What about we share it? That makes it fair, right?”

“I- I don’t know-.”

“Please?” You’re voice mimicked his tone from when he had spoked the exact same word. “I’ll feel too guilty if I just take it. My roommates are both out for the night, so we can eat it together if you want.”

Yoongi hesitated, but the idea of spending time with you felt nice.

“Okay.”

Your lips curled into a bright smile as you invited him inside. Yoongi waited for you to close and lock the door, and followed you as you led him to your kitchen. He placed the paper bag onto the smooth, marble countertop as you pulled out two plates from the white cabinets that stretched up to the ceiling.

You began to take out all the containers and spread them out over the counter.

“There’s so much bro, I would not have been able to finish this,” you said with a smile that Yoongi returned.

“I mean, you could’ve shared it with your roommates.”

“Mhm, I guess. I rather share it with you though.”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned pink as he let out a timid chuckle. Honestly, you didn’t know what gave you the confidence, but you enjoyed the reactions you garnered from the brunet boy.

He helped you as both of you filled your plates with food. The aroma that easily spread across the kitchen made your mouths water, and you dug in as soon as you brought over chopsticks and spoons for the two of you.

“Damnn, this is good,” you said with a moan of satisfaction. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you spoke and Yoongi hummed in agreement. His own eyes fluttered shut as he savoured the taste.

“So, what do you do?” You asked before putting another spoonful of food into your mouth.

“I’m in a band. That’s why I moved here, actually. The other members thought we’d be more productive if we all lived together but I’m starting to doubt that."

You chuckle. “A band? Damn, that’s so cool."

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders. “I mean it is and I love all the members and all but...it can get tiring sometimes, y’know.”

Even though you couldn’t exactly relate to him, you nodded understandingly with a hum.

“You should play me one of your songs!”

“Uh- no.”

You shot him a scowl at his immediate rejection of the idea.

“Whyy? I won’t judge, I swear.”

Yoongi closed his eyes with a playfully pained expression on his face as you practically begged him for a chance to listen to one of his songs.

“I’ll show it to you eventually. Maybe.”

“Yah! No maybes, you’re definitely showing it to me next time!”

Next time. Yoongi couldn’t wait for the next time he could see you again.

A smooth conversation ensued after you both had taken a few more bites of the food. You felt oddly comfortable in front of him. You didn’t feel the need to cover your mouth when you laughed or hold back on your words, didn’t feel the need to hide away any part of yourself.

You felt like you could be yourself, and the feeling was strange. It caused a tug of warmth in your heart.

Soon enough, both of you had scoffed most of the food. You began to store the rest of the takeaway in sealed bowls and Yoongi moved to the dishes in the sink.

“Ah, you can just leave them, I’ll do them later,” you said, but Yoongi washed them anyway. A part of you was grateful that he did, as washing the dishes was one of your least favourite chores.

You took the plates he had rinsed and placed them into the dishwasher. Silence filled the air, only broken by the quiet ticking of the clock that hung on your wall, but the atmosphere was far from tense or awkward. Neither of you felt the need to try to start a random conversation and simply focused on the tasks at hand.

“Thanks so much, for the food and the cleaning up. I really do appreciate it!” You said as you wiped your hands dry on a small cloth.

“It’s no problem, really.”

You opened the door for him as he slipped into his shoes.

“We need to actually go to the restaurant someday, get the full experience y’know?”

Yoongi smiled with a nod.

“We can arrange a day over the phone if you want?”

“I’d love that!”

Yoongi fished out his phone from the back pocket of his darkly coloured jeans in an instant and typed in your number as you called it out to him.

“See you soon, ___.”

“Byee.”

You gave a quick wave of your hand which he returned before he began walking back down to his apartment. You couldn’t hide the content smile on your face as closed the door, eagerly grabbing your phone from the counter.

Yoongi sent you a text less than a minute later, and you added his number to your contacts.

You too couldn’t wait for the next time.

[dolligguk]

was it all just a memory?

note : a vv quick drabble, unedited, and wrote this specifically as i have a fever.

word count: 2,639

closing his eyes, all that he felt was the ache. in his eyes, in his body after consecutive hours of practice in the studio, and in his heart.

something in jungkook's gut gnaws at him. he's been feeling off since 2 years ago. its been this way till now. and now, he sits alone on his bed, face stuffed in his palms. like usual, he brushes those thoughts off.

-ding!

laughter is heard along with the voices of his fellow group members.

"jaykay! open the door!" jungkook has slight relief at hearing his group members voice, hoseok. the company of others would help keep his brain from going in too deep.

opening the door, jungkook presses his lips into a smile and hugs taehyung as he pushes in to enter first.

after all of them settle on the velvety beige couch, jungkook is busy to pull out some beer and jin reaches for the remote. the living room was warm, a contrast to the rainy and breezy weather outside.

as they all sit down and start chattering about upcoming events they have to attend, jungkook sits there quietly. jimin chugs the glass of beer that jungkook presented as the rest of the members drink little by little talking with one another. taehyung gets up to retrieve some water as he doesn't like the taste and jungkook turns to him.

"tae hyung can you give me the whiskey bottle?"

"tough morning huh?"

jungkooks tongue pokes inside his cheek as his eyes smile slightly. taehyung retrieves it as jungkook fills his glass with ice and the whiskey. instead of trying to interact with the members and even trying to listen in so hes on par with the schedules, the fizzing sound of the whiskey filling up the cup with ice, fills his ears, like slow motion, the ice hitting against the glass and the background sound of banter. the texture of everything around him, the feeling he got when he was with you, it was always the small details that took over him. the softness of the couch under the pads of his fingers as he presses them onto it, sitting back down and resting his head on the headrest. the pattern of the wooden table in front of him, the tiny puddle of whiskey the dripped from his glass and the feel of his own skin. and in these moments which never happen anymore, he hoped to be engulfed by the sweet scent and comfort of you. but it didn't come. and its like something snaps him awake, into a different reality.

taking sip by sip, his stomach churns.. this isn't right. it wasn't unusual for him to let the others talk since he doesn't really like to interfere. but that still means he does take in account what's going on around him. today however, his ears start to take in the sound of the rain softly hitting against his large glass windows, his eyes play flashbacks like a movie scene. he gets goosebumps on his skin, as if reliving those moments with you. right now felt like a mere dream.

" jungkook." you whisper.

no. no no no.

you didn't say anything, you're not even here, what the fuck?

"jungkook?" the familiar deep voice called again. and like the feel and sound of the world fading back in, jungkook blinks. his tired eyes were veiny red as they blur with tears from the pain and feel of it all.

"ya ,,, jungkook." another voice called, cold fingertips tapping softly against his bare tatted shoulder, jungkook snaps out of it.

whatever "it" was.

all the members stared at the man. he realized yoongi had been calling him. and now they all looked concerned, he was completely shattered. jungkook didn't realize that he was a mess, his body was shaking and heart was beating fast. like a in a haze of a fever. he once again closed his eyes and let out a shaky exhale. they stayed quiet, surprised by his sudden change in behavior.

in their eyes, this didn't make sense.

after jimin had tried to gently ask him what's wrong, jungkook wiped his tears and gave a small smile saying he was just exhausted after days of no break. the members weren't fully buying it but since in their minds there wasn't any other reason, they gave him time as they begin to leave after patting his back for a moment of comfort.

"so", namjoon cleared his throat softly and closed the door as he turned to face jungkook who was a little confused on why he didn't leave with the others. jungkook smiled and tried to take a few deep breaths before talking with namjoon.

"jungkook, i need to know what's been going on.. this might have been the first time but," namjoon calmly sits beside him and looks down at his lap, "you dont seem to have been okay for a very long while now, but today you just.." namjoon licks his lips and presses them flat against each other as he struggles to find the right words to express his deep concern.

jungkook stares unemotionally, his mind in other places and as if namjoon can read his mind;

"i say a few months, a few months after you two separated."

jungkook narrows his eyes before letting out a bitter laugh. "funny you bring her up"

"had a feeling" says namjoon before he slightly squints at jungkook. he sets himself comfortably on the couch, pulling out a cigarette and handing another to jungkook.

"yeah?" jungkook lights it up and rubs his eyes before smoking, staring at the other mans expression through the grey smoke he blows out from his aflush lips. his voice was quiet and raspy as he smiles sadly. "you know.. if she was here, i dont think i wouldnt be touching this cigar"

"it was all you" namjoon says taking a deep breath while flicking off some of the cigarettes end. he lifts his eyes up again, calmly continuing, "tell me if im crossing a line, but this is coming from a brother."

jungkook slightly shakes his head as he shuts his eyes and blows out another puff. before namjoon can part his lips to speak, his eyes shoot up as jungkook says something, letting out a choked whisper.

"what if i killed her?"

his head was still tilted up, resting against the couch and his fingers have already given up, the cigar burning into the expensive couch before going out, his face was stoic except the tears that had started to stream down his face, following the pattern of the droplets of rain against the glass window. jungkook tried swallowing the lump in his throat, but the ache in his heart and churn in his stomach would never go away. namjoons face showed slight shock.

jungkook parted his lips, his voice barely above a whisper. "i made it worse for her, i.. i could've helped, but my fucking ego"

"you dont know where she is"

the next day, jungkook woke up in a deep headache and on his bed. namjoon was nowhere to be found and jungkook figured that he helped him get to bed after he passed out.

there it goes again, that off feeling.

after taking a shower, he fixed his bed and changed. finally sitting down on the edge of the bed, he looked up. seeing his reflection in the wide mirror. the eye bags that had started to form made him feel even worse. this whole morning, alone, with no distraction, he was quiet. no TV, no phone, no food, and no music.

spontaneously, he got up and took his keys, he didn't know where he was going, but all he knew was that he missed her so bad that he was going insane.

"you dont know where she is"

such a small contexted sentence and literally didn't make sense. but yet, jungkook found himself crazily staring into the road, his fingers gripping so tightly on the steering wheel that his knuckles were white, clenching and unclenching his jaw. he was angry at himself. and after 2 hours of driving- no break, he started to get view of the once familiar town , soon following the neighborhood. a contrast to his. it was homey and all the houses and apartments were small and very very close, usually had a few kids frolicking around or the aunties coming out to visit each other while having the deliciously scented desserts in their hands.

today, wasn't any different. he parked his car and some kids moved out the way, staring at him, an unknown and never seen person on this street, walking to the small single apartment complex.

a few old women owned the place and took younger girls in so they wouldn't live alone in fear. his girl lived in the house beside it, with a housemate. at least from what he remembered.

his hands were shaking, heart was beating so fast and he felt so scared, practically smelling your scent and seeing you run to him smiling so widely like it was just yesterday, but it was all years ago. he shakes his head and takes a deep sigh.

man up jungkook, dont think about anything els-

a woman appeared from the small gate that lead to a yard in front of the apartment complex. she was short and had glasses on, looking like she was in her maybe 50s. Jungkook stood there and tried to compose himself to get to the point since he was still nervous, the grown woman eyed him and raise her brow, pushing her head forward to get a better sight.

"you knocked?"

jungkook stuttered, trying to catch his breath as he bowed politely, clearing his throat before gently speaking.

"hi" he clears his throat again as the lady tries to decipher him, "i-i .. im here to ask about someone that lives here?"

"in this building?" the grandma asks.

"n-no.. i think she lives close by-"

"then why are you here son?" she cuts him off feeling a bit impatient.

jungkook doesn't reply feeling so nerve-wrecked. the grandma slightly senses as she lets out a chuckle.

"you must be an old boyfriend, huh? well fortunately, i deal with a lot of those for the young ladies here, come in come in." the grandma opens the door a little wider, cueing jungkook to enter. one of her hands are on her lower back and jungkook realizes she must be tired of standing.

he doesn't know how to reply except for giving a slight nod, even though knowing this is much complicated than the grandma thinks. he helps her in as she shows him a way to a main living room that leads to staircases. jungkook figures that's where the small apartments are as he sits down in front of the fireplace in the small couch, the grandma sitting in front of him.

a young girl comes in and bows a hello at jungkook, as he does the same he realizes, they have a similar style. he exhales as the girl places a glass of tea for the grandma and leaves to the kitchen.

"s-so.." jungkook starts, the grandma was quiet and calm just slowly staring off out of the glass window, where a beautiful sight of the yard is shown.

"tell me about her" the grandma says after noticing his hesitance.

"she lived in the house by this building.. __?" jungkook slips her name out hesitantly, hoping the woman would recognize it.

"ah" she clicks her tongue and shakes her head sighing, setting the glass down and massages her temples.

"__ ah.. was she one of a kind, huh?" jungkook stays quiet, furrowing his brows at what the grandma says. "well, i'm sorry if you didn't hear, but she's not here son" she looks at him slight empathetically.

"i-im sorry.. what?"

"you said __ right?" jungkook nods not quite understanding.

"well the poor girl suffered a heart attack around maybe last? year. it was a mess for the whole neighborhood"

Jungkook's eyes widen, his brain, trying to protect him doesn't process this as he whispers. "is she fine now?"

the grandma sadly smiles but exhales, "i know its hard to believe and let go, .. but she's not here son. not on this earth."

the grandma gets up and calls the girl over for more tea. she turns around to excuse herself to the bathroom, but before says;

"if you'd like, we have a few photos of her in the bin over there, we keep all photos of people we're close with in there when we do a wake." she gives a small smile that makes jungkook's shock calm a bit so he can at least give a bow of respect and thank.

after the grandma walks away to the bathroom, the girl appears with what seems a full kettle now and as she sits down to pour some into the grandmas cup, she realizes jungkooks state.

hes shaking, his eyes opening and closing, he doesn't seem fine. she clears her throat softly and pats his shoulder. as jungkook composes himself he looks up at the girl, desperately and crazily.

"so.. how come your here, i've never seen you before."

jungkook try's to put out a smile but fails, he shakes his head ready to go. "was just looking for someone"

"__?" jungkook whips his head back.

"sorry, i heard you talking about her, its really tragic" she empathizes and jungkook gives a small nod. "d-did you know her?"

"yeah, she was a sort of friend, it was the issues with her previous boyfriend.- o-oh.. you, right?" jungkook stares off as he tilts his head and presses his lips. "yeah?"

"well she was severely depressed after you left her because of your parents, and she was not good mentally in that moment when it happened" she smiles sadly and gets up, holding the now warn kettle in her palms. "we do have photos if you want to see." she suggests.

jungkook was confused since this had never happened. his parents were never involved themselves in his relationships, but he brushes it off thinking maybe she remembers wrong and before he can decline and leave, she came forward with the photos, making jungkooks brows furrow.

"did you get them mixed up?"

the girl raises her brows softly and shakes her head, "thats __"

"im sorry, maybe you got them mixed up? .."

the girl was completely confused as she shakes her head again, "im pretty sure i would know who my friend is."

"thats __ __?" jungkook asks

the girls eyes squint, "no thats kang __"

jungkook shakes his head, terribly confused, who was this "kang __"?! his girl did not have this surname.

"w-wait? is your name minho?" the girl drops the photos and walks closer.

jungkook feels even more dumbfounded, "no, my name is Jeon Jungkook."

"oh." the girl seems to have been also terribly confused before she raises her brows.

"__ __, you say?" he slowly nods and she sits down thinking before saying; "im sorry i dont know a person by this full name, if you want to- check with the police records, maybe they know someone if shes lived in this town before."

jungkook feels dumbfounded as he drives to a police station and asking for a persons check.

"do you know her name, full name specifically"

"__ __, not to be mixed up with kang __"

"we have many __ but not with the surname that you claim."

the police man returns the huge stack of files and moves away from the computer looking at jungkook as jungkook shakes his head, a wave of dizziness hits him.

"so.."

the policeman fixes his cap and raises his eyebrows.

"so.. the person you have stated, does not exist."

[perfectlyoongi-main]

i finally sat to read this and OH MY DEAR LORD ok so many things to talk abt okokok 1.ur descriptions are EVERYTHING like the first part when oc is running i could feel my heart beating fast and my breath going crazy LIKE IT WAS SOSOSO GOOD i fucking loved every second of it 2.i wanna b like deeba when i grow up (i'm already an adult). like i could perfectly picture her as a witch from the forest like I KNOW ITS A BEACH AND OCEAN AND ALL but the vibes were so warm, so precious it reminded me of the forest 3.YOONGI OMG i hope hope hoooope hes ok and whoever he wanted to help is alright. like the way u kept saying "repeating the same gestures and it was dark" and all that i could see yoongi completely mad w worry, trying his best to save some1 the best way he could - and not being understood GOSH MY HEART IT BROKE RIGHT THERE 4. that last sentence. like i love ur writing all of it but that last sentence oh god goosebumps LITERALLY was so powerful and so good ugh i actually let out a little sigh when the chapter ended bc it was like i was there, living all that chaos yk? god ur writing is so good idk how to explain ugh

𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧

PROLOGUE → (FIRST CHAPTER) → FIRST CHAPTER

: ̗̀➛ synopsis: you're in the wind, I'm in the water.. somebody's son, somebody's daughter..

OR: Sirens and humans were made to be at war with one another. To sear their deadly bond, not with love, not with wealth, not with rules and restrictions... but with flowing blood and torn flesh. That's what history says. That's what's bound to be.

: ̗̀➛ pair: yoongi x f reader/oc.

: ̗̀➛ tags: mute human!yoongi, farmer!yoongi, yoongi has long hair (dday era length, or longer, u do u), half siren half human!reader, reader is obsessed (almost yandere-ish (we'll see as the story progresses)), she's lost and unhappy as well, got her issues (totally not projecting here), forbidden love and relationships, middle ages/old times era theme, supernatural, slow burn (I tried), strangers to lovers (?), fluff, angst, bloody or dark themes. more tags could be added eventually.

: ̗̀➛ A/N: first chappie woop woop! thank u!!! for the lovely comments I got on the prologue. honestly? I'm kinda nervous about how yall will take this fic starting from now, but! as I said before, please give it a try, I'll do my best.. 🥹 this is my first time making a fic like this one. be patient with me loves. there we go now. enjoy <333 don't forget to leave ur feedback, whatever it is, I'll take it all!!!

★ MOODBOARD.

★ MASTERLIST.

I could feel it all.

The heavy downpour that fell over my head, my shoulders and everything else around me. Felt it as it soaked through my entirely drenched being and bled into my cold flesh, as if trying to reach my pounding heart and sooth it down.

Keep going.

I could feel my legs trembling like they were not attached to the human body that was carrying me. The sand that clung to my feet as soon as I slipped out of the ocean waves, mournful at my departure, minutes before that, turned into wet, cold soil and stuck to my feet, creeping up between my toes and underneath my nails.

Don't stop. Keep running.

I could feel the ground shaking underneath me with each booming crack of thunder. A flash of lightning struck the angry sky above every few minutes passing by. I was able to get a clear glimpse of the path of trees, grass and rocks in front of me for brief, spasmodic seconds, before everything fell completely dark again.

They'll get you. Don't stop.

With frail legs and rapid breaths of air, I sped up my pace and ran as fast as my human legs could go, while my heart felt as though it could jump right up my throat and run ahead of me to my aimed destination.

Run, don't stop.

I didn’t stop even when I could spot the brick house I was in dire need of seeing, of setting foot into.

Run, don't stop.

I didn’t stop until I made it to the rag that laid on its naked concrete front step.

I tried to quickly open the door, but it didn’t budge. Tried thumping my fists against its wet, cold wooden surface, the name of the woman I yearned to reunite with slipping out of my mouth naturally, nothing happened.

Stop. Think.

Everything was too dark and too still to think properly. The pitter patter of the rain drops against the muddy ground was overwhelmingly loud in my ears.

All I could think about was locking myself in that small house and never stepping out of it ever again.

The creaking of the door cut my string of thoughts short as it was pulled open in front of me. I couldn't make her features out in the dark, but relief washed over me once I could smell that familiar scent and hear that dear voice to my heart asking who was banging on her door at god knows what hour in the night.

Stop. We're safe. Breathe.

Several minutes after that, the scent of fresh herbal tea tickled my nostrils as I made my way down the stairs, clad in dry, warm sleep clothing.

Warm, safe.

The wooden steps squeaked everytime I put my weight on them, which almost made me giggle like a child getting lifted and thrown in the air, then caught in a warm embrace again. But the heaviness of my body, the way it felt wobbly and unsteady as I dragged it across the first floor, and the reality of my life as it fell down on my being over and over again, it all snatched the will to giggle out of me.

We can't go back.

Deeba was stirring tea on the cast iron stove. A simple act that evoked images from the past to my mind, all the times she made me different types of herbal tea and we went to drink them at the beach, or by some lake. Before everything changed and I never stepped foot on land again.

In shorter, simpler terms, Deeba was my father's blood sister, my aunt.

In longer, more in depth terms, Deeba was my only family ashore. The only one left of—or more accurately, the only one I was ever aware of—my human bloodline and the person who took my hand and guided me through the convolution of my human self. Despite and despite and despite.

She was a woman of young features despite being in her late fifties. With her jet black hair that had some of its stubborn front strands clinging onto paleness she liked to cover with head scarves, and her usual long dresses, she always had that tidied up look of hers.

Due to the nature of her profession, some people of the humble village referred to her as a mystical witch—which is, for the most part, something she often laughed at and enjoyed entertaining by decorating the house with things like crystals, brooms, a big cauldron used for cooking purposes, along with a number of other “witch items".

She was that kind of woman, one that held galaxies in her hands and a heart bigger than a blue whale, but is seen as the mistress of the devil himself.

But at the end of the day, people, no matter what color their hearts were, they always crawl back to the devil and seek him out. One way or another, by all means necessary.

But Deeba was no such thing. She was the sweetest person with the kindest heart, even with that stern glare of hers that never left her face, and that gruff voice of hers that showed no trace of playfulness. A healer who loved transmuting plants and different kinds of goods into powerful, healing remedies in that little village. Who has an almost deific amount of knowledge and wisdom, not bothering to care about the whispers and the what ifs of the villagers around her.

“Come sit.” She said, once I made it to the dining room, her voice still as deep and unwavering as I could remember. There was one lit candle on the large wooden table. It served to lend me some sense of company while she was occupied there.

As I plopped down on a chair, she put a cup in front of me, before moving to sit on the other side of the table with her own one in hand. I cupped mine in my hold, its warmth kissed my skin as I took a moment to watch the steam rise from the rim.

When I was a child, I always wanted to dive into a good, hot cup of tea. Something about the way it looked was very inviting to my young brain, back then.

“Nothing changed here. You didn’t change at all..” I dared to break the silence with these hushed words. “I missed you.”

Deeba’s reply came a little later, her voice more gentle than before, but still holding onto its nonchalant air: “I thought she'd never allow you a foot ashore again. What happened?”

I stayed silent for a little more, thinking over my words. “Nothing in particular.. Why? You don’t want me here anymore?”

“Don’t get all ridiculous now.” She gave a light huff. “You’re still as lippy as ever.”

A faint smile made its way up my mouth, my shoulders raising in a quick shrug. “You always secretly found it entertaining, I know of that.”

She continued to eye me up in silence, like she was trying to fish something out of my skin as I continued to avoid that inevitable question.

Her gaze gave up on studying me as it shifted to my wrist, where my skin wore the royal siren symbol. The very tattoo that put me and my family in a different category than the rest of the sirens across all oceans. She then reached out to hold my arm in a gentle grasp and observed it thoroughly.

“Alright. I've been searching for an assistant lately, but none of the ones I have found were fit for my liking.” Her finger traced the lines of the dark shape as she continued speaking steadily. “If you’re going to stay, you’ll have to help me around until I figure out what to do.”

“Then what?” I asked.

“What do you mean ‘then what’?” Her voice sounded too fixed and firm for my question. “This is your house.”

Deeba withdrew her hands and stood up from her chair. Having spent enough precious years of my life with her, I knew she had so much to say and so much to ask, but didn't push any further. How could she, after all that happened, starting from the moment I was born up to the moment I sat there before her, anyway?

Nonetheless, a wave of relief washed over me entirely as she brushed off my unspoken worries.

“I have something to show you. Finish your tea, it’ll soothe you.” With those words, she walked out of the door before I could even give a reaction.

I found myself all alone in that warm kitchen. I hated silence. The silence deep in the ocean, the silence of the world around me when I'm no longer living a symphony with it…

Silence wasn't gentle with me at all. I sat there with the rim of the cup between my lips, waiting for Deeba to come back down again. The sound of raindrops hitting the roof over my head battled with the loudness of the wild thoughts flooding my skull once again and nibbling at my brain.

The walls kept staring at me in a deafening, dead air, until the door of the house flung violently open, pulling me out of my head as it collided with the wall in a thud. Several footsteps followed that as they rushed into the house.

I lifted my head and froze in my place at the sight.

There, only a few steps away from where I stood, I saw the moon again.

We found him.

Something inside of me switched in an instant. Days went on and I’ve been thinking about him. The memory of him on that boat, so close yet so, so far away from me, played in my head like a piercing cry. But then there he was, standing at the entrance of the dining room.

However, instead of being the moon of the daytime, calm and serene, he looked frantic. Like a school of sardines running for its life when a whale is looking for its lunch.

He was drenched from head to toe. His long hair stuck to his skin and dark eyes searched around the place as if he was looking for something particular. A chill slipped its way down my spine when our gazes locked together.

Say something. Do something.

He scurried over towards me, eating up the distance between us. We stood face to face. He started moving his hands in precise, hurried movements. I stared with my mouth slightly open, perplexed and speechless as ever.

It seemed like he was repeating the same movements over and over again, frowning and huffing at my lack of response.

Say something.

He moved to tap on the table beside us repeatedly. I still couldn't break free from the intensity of his eyes yet.

"I- Sorry-?" was all I managed to utter, and I wanted to scream, both from the intensity of the moment and the way he was looking at me.

If I could describe it, I’d say it was dark, enraged and agitated. It held an incredible amount of despair and urgency in it, a contradiction that spoke to my very soul and begged for something I wasn’t even sure what it was.

The moon is upset.

"I don't understand…" I tried again, once I managed to find my voice.

The tension in my body dwindled to a faint clench in my stomach once I heard Deeba coming back down the stairs. To think that the mere presence of a person could bring quiet to chaos in an instance..

"Goodness, Yoongi. What brings you here at this hour?" Despite its unwavering nonchalance, her voice was layered with concern, cutting the string of my thoughts short.

It was obvious that her presence wasn't a safety ring to me alone, because the man– Yoongi?– heaved a sigh that seemed so incredibly relieved as soon as he saw her too.

He faced her and started moving his hands again. I could recognize some movements from a few seconds ago, and I stood there watching the rest of the scene unfold before me, feeling like a complete outsider.

Deeba seemed to understand whatever was happening immediately. She, ever so calmly, said: "Alright, calm down. I'm coming with you at this instant."

With confident, swift steps, she moved to grab a dark pouch bag that was sitting on one of the chairs, tossed in some bottles that'd been neatly lined up on a wooden shelf on the wall, then turned to instruct me in a clear tone, "I have to go see a patient. It's too late, don't wait for me and go to sleep."

I couldn't even protest, she was already gone, alongside the man. I watched him step out of the house with a spring in his legs. Something inside of me wished he stayed a bit longer instead.

I let out a sigh and put the cup of tea in the sink, just like Deeba taught me growing up.

My body felt so heavy. My legs, still feeling like they didn't belong to me, carried me to the attic upstairs. The room in which I spent most of the time as a child everytime I visited the land.

Standing in the middle of the small room, nothing changed in it. Nothing was special about it, to begin with, but it was always my special place. The place in which my younger brain felt as though it could conquer the seven oceans and the massive lands one of those days.

There, between those four walls and the small window that overlooked my vast, blue home in the distance, nothing ever mattered. Not who I was, who I was supposed to be, nor what was expected of me to be. None of that mattered in there. It was just me and my bed. My book shelves and my father's picture, framed and placed on the small bedside table.

I, of course, didn't forget to talk to the moon that night. As I gazed up at the sky through the window, I also thanked the bright stars for bringing him to my path again. For not rendering my prayers mere whispers into the air.

- [to be continued...]

[yoonmetogether]

Not In the Cards teaser!

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader

genre: mafia, e2l

summary: yoongi realizes something about you, about himself, and runs. It's what he does best afterall.

warnings: implications of sex, angst, trauma, yoongi has a dark past. i hope y'all will stick around to find out, this is a long winded story i'm sorry! also reader uses a pseudonym as it’s relative to the plot.

minors dni

wc: 1k

teaser I part i. I part ii. I

When he wakes up next to you, it’s still dark out and you’re still fast asleep. Your face is just a silhouette to him, but he knows you’re beautiful, even in slumber. His heart jumps when he remembers you’re in his hoodie and he doesn’t think too much about how much he likes that. 

How is it possible to like someone he just met this much? He hands it off to the (great fucking) sex he just had. 

He does his best not to disturb you as he maneuvers out of bed and into the bathroom, needing to wash off remnants of sticky sex and sweat now that he’s cognizant. He waits until he’s started the shower to turn the lights on, ignoring his reflection as he takes off his favorite silver chain and places it on the shelf above the toilet to avoid any drains, dog tags swinging on his chest when he steps into the tub.

You're still sleeping when he returns so he quietly gets dressed, trying not to hate putting back on the clothes he wore yesterday now that's he's freshly showered but it can't be helped. A little of the sunrise has made the room a low mix of blue and grey so he can see you better as he goes to the nightstand to put on his watch. He looks over at you and smiles to himself when he hears you snoring softly. You shift on your stomach, facing away from him and just as he turns to leave the room for a morning cigarette, an etching on the back of your neck catches his attention. He has yet to put in his contacts and it's still not bright enough to see well so he slowly sits on the edge of the bed to have a better look, curiosity piqued. It has the shape of some kind of bird or plane, something with wings so he leans a little closer, pressing a fist on the mattress to hold himself up. He expects the wings to be that of an angel, a nod to your name, but when he finally sees what it is, albeit a bit blurry, his heart stops and drops to his stomach.

It is indeed a small bird but not one he expected to see on your skin. A crow. And it's drawn as if it were flying high in the sky, it's talons digging into a human skull. To anyone else, its meaning is ambiguous, but to him, to others like him, it's the symbol of enormous power, made by blood, money and greed. He would know - he has a tattoo that speaks to the gang he got caught up in as a teenager that branded him to force his loyalty. A gang that could be shredded and not missed by the organization that owns the symbol tatted on your neck.

Shit. Being who he is, relying solely on intuition and reading between the lines, he had a gut feeling that you may not be as innocent as you seem. To the average bystander, maybe. But not to him. The crow on your neck confirms it.

And for the first time in a long time, he's terrified.

Before seeing that, he'd already considered leaving before you wake up, doubting what good would come out of him staying. You don't need someone marred and sinful like him in your life.

But now if you find out about the coiled cobra on the back of his left shoulder, one of the many reasons he didn't take his shirt off or keep the lights on once you both fell into bed, he’ll be screwed for a whole different reason.

So he makes the decision that there's nothing for him to do but leave you in the dust and never look back, tacking this night onto the murky cloud of his many mistakes. Even though it makes his heart ache. All the more reason to coat it in tar, making it impenetrable to him and anyone else. In the weeks to come, he'll force it to forget you.

But it will only make him colder and bitter. Forlorn. He fucking deserves that.

He grabs his phone and his keys he left on the couch and hauls ass to the door and down to the lobby so you don't wake in time to see him disappear without a trace. But in the rush, he forgets the one thing most precious to him that he took off before he showered. It isn't until he's zipping away on his motorcycle towards the ferry, blaming the cold and whipping wind for the tears piercing the corners of his eyes, that he realizes and curses himself. The one thing he was supposed to never lose, to always take care of, he forgot. His mother was right - if his grandfather was still around he’d be so disappointed. For the rest of the way home, his mother’s words ring in his ears - he’s a fuck up who’s lost all chances to redeem himself. No one will want him. So going forth, that's what he carries with him every day when you come up in his thoughts, no matter how hard he tries to keep you out.

It's better this way. He did you a favor.

When you wake up alone, it’s not your empty stomach that makes you feel nauseous.

You rush to the convenience store for a morning after pill, because you’ll be damned if you get knocked up, especially not by someone who doesn’t have the fucking decency to leave a note, much less a phone number, after a night like that.

Fuck him. Fuck him big time for being just like everyone else. You know what your father and brothers would say - that's what you get for letting your guard down. Naive and weak-minded people only get themselves hurt. So just like you have done countless times, you pick up the pieces of your heart that were stomped and crushed and left for dead, and bury them in the recesses of your mind, keeping all of your pain to yourself. Pain is weakness, especially the kind you can’t see on your skin, and weakness is forbidden in the blood you share with your family. Maybe now the lesson will stick. But for the years to come, his eyes, his touch, his voice will haunt you in your dreams and your nightmares. You hope to all hell you never see him again.

If you do, he better watch his fucking back.

.

.

.

part i. coming soon!!! masterlist

thank you for reading! this is all very nerve wracking to me bc i'm an anxious girl and a perfectionist when it comes to writing and i kind of pulled this scene outta my ass so i could get a teaser out there so i'm not 100% confident about it.

but let me know what you think here or leave a comment if you want.

xxx - claret

thanks k bye :)

p.s this is what i imagine as reader’s tattoo

[spacequokka]

BTS Kinks & Turn Ons

Right, so I lost a bet with @iibonniee​ and she got to choose the next thing I posted from my project list. It’s also Tipsy Drabble Friday so guess who’s vibing~ This is more drunk headcanon than my other birth chart interpretations so be prepared for some certyfied shitposting.

Seokjin || Venus: Capricorn, Mars: Cancer || Kink: Roleplay

The bedroom is his stage and best believe he’s ready to put on a show. Be willing to follow his head and take direction to have the night of your life. Specifically, says he likes big tits, so there’s that. Can be a nympho at times. 

Yoongi || Venus: Aries, Mars: Cancer || Kink: Daddy Dom

Yeah, I said it. Likes being in control, caring for his partner as well as punishing them (sugar and ice). Loves giving gifts he can use or see in use. Honestly a softie under that grumpy cat look. Very good at after care and dealing with subspace without going overboard. 10/10 best daddy. Tends to fall in love, especially with people who consistently hype him up and support his ideas.

Hoseok || Venus: Pisces, Mars: Aquarius || Kink: Phone Sex

Lures you in with sweetness and fluffy playfulness. Sensitive and romantic. Loves to surprise you. But will also call you up and turn you on no matter where you are or what you’re doing. At work? Touch yourself under the desk. At the mall? Find a dressing room and let him see what you have on under that shirt. Needs to hear you get off. Wants to make sure he stays on your mind when he’s not next to you.

Namjoon || Venus: Scorpio, Mars: Cancer || Kink: Orgasm Control

Deeply devoted to pleasing you and is fucking amazing at it. Just imagine that beautiful mind focused on making you cum as many times as you can take it. Of course, this comes at a cost: you cum at his command, over and over, until you use your safeword. Don’t tap out, baby. Will thoroughly fuck your mind before he does your body. Prone to jealousy and will ensure you remember no one else will ever fuck you as well as he can. And I ain’t even mad, tbh.

Jimin || Venus: Scorpio, Mars: Scorpio || Kink: Praise with dom tendencies

Not Serendipity coming on when I get to him. Even if you don’t know shit about astrology, you know looking at double Scorpio, it just makes fucking sense, right? Like, of course, he is. Little menace to my bias list. Alrighty, so another pleasure giving king who loves your attention. (Charlie Puth didn’t lie.) Can’t stand your mind being anywhere but on him when he gets you alone. Will fuck you stupid until you fall apart so he can put you back together to his liking. Save yourself. Lives for training and breaking you in. Sounds possessive but really it’s you possessing him. He’s that devoted to you when you steal his heart. It’s only fair, no? Will gladly let you lead once you’re as drunk on him as he is for you. There’s little he won’t do for you after that.

Taehyung || Venus: Aquarius, Mars: Capricorn || Kink: Brat Taming

Thinking about that time I read @tatertotthethot​​‘s The Dom Next Door and Tae had a tat on his hand that said YOUR THROAT HERE like yes. He’d thoroughly enjoy the challenge of getting you to submit. He wouldn’t even have to do anything special to punish you. Just ignoring you when you’re acting out is enough because you know the pleasure you’re missing out on. Like why bother? When you get it together, he’ll toy with you until you’re crying and shaking then punish you with dick. We support Big Dick Tae in this house. Lowkey and determined with a slight temper and a need to stay in control.

Jungkook || Venus: Libra, Mars: Scorpio || Kink: Auralism

A gentle lover who wants to make your relationship work. Just wants to be treated fairly and share everything with you. 🥺 What gets him going is your voice, the little moans you make when you taste something delicious or when he hits that spot just right. It seems simple, but does so much for him. Especially when your mouth’s right by his ear. He’ll do everything he can to hear your voice. If you leave him a voicemail, you can bet he’ll save it just to listen to later when he can’t get his hands on you.

[hollyhomburg]

(Hopekook x reader, toxic relationship but in a 🥴 way, possessiveness, controlling behavior to the extreme, implied yoongi x reader, voyeurisim, exhibitionism, squirting, pee stuff, mafia stuff)

You know what I sorta want? Organized crime boss alpha hoseok who treasures his little omega pet beyond words, couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her 🥰 unfortunately for him she has a habit of being a disobedient little pet. especially when he leaves for business and he’s not there to keep her in line himself. Luckily he has his live in bodyguard and most loyal second jk who keeps her fuzzy and omegaspacey and so spoiled she’d never think about leaving him. (Not that she could, not that he’d let her, but things won’t ever have to come to that because hoseok is going to treat her /well/ keep her happy)

He knows all of their rules. That she can’t touch unless hoseok says she can, can’t cum unless he says she can, can’t leave the apartment unless he says she can and if she’s accompanied by at least 3 guards, can’t skip meals, has to wear the clothes that alpha picks out for her. Everything. Hoseok is not the typical alpha, he demands utter devotion for what he gives- and he gives her everything in return.

Of course he has to leave sometimes for work, and the long weeks away are taxing on their relationship and her submission. jk is there to pick up the slack when he catches her with her hand between her thighs or using the shower head in ways she shouldn’t. often spanking her pussy pink and swollen infront of the camera and documenting every flinch and squeal for hoseok. Making her beg to cum, jks tatted fingers spreading her lips wide when hoseok asks to see her hole.

Just the threat of sicking jungkook on her is enough to have her quaking because he regularly fucks her to the point of incoherency, fucking her with his fat knot even after he’s cum and it’s popped. Hoseok always asks to see, always demands videos of the two of them. He has to make sure jk is breeding her properly in his absense 🥰

He gets little updates from jungkook whenever he’s away, little things like “she took her settling spanking so good this morning, woke up and asked for it like a good pup,” “ah she’s so cute, give her pussy a kiss for me” or “she was batting her eyes at one of our alphas, how do you want me to proceed?” “make her show him her hole and tell him it’s mine, fuck her infront of him if you must”

There are other cuter moments too, moments when she calls him curled up in jks arms and tells him how much they both miss their alpha, or when she wants to show him their kisses. How sweet she can be when she wants to be, or photos of jk tucked all under her chin, smothering her with his body the way hoseok always does too 🥺

Imagine she tries to leave the apartment without anyone, without jk, just to go downstairs to the coffee shop across the street for a treat, and hoseok is so pissed because she could have been put in real danger. Maybe she was in real danger and she almost got abducted by hoseoks enemies.

He’d be seething, already arranging for their deaths but unable to come home just yet. “I obviously can’t trust you to make decisions by yourself so from now on until I say so You’re not allowed to do anything without jks permission. you’re not allowed to sleep, eat, or take a fucking piss without him telling you that you can. Do you understand me?”

“Yes alpha.”

Jk is equally as angry, maybe he narrowly got to her in time before something did happen to her. But he takes hoseoks command seriously, the humiliation burning through her and doing something funny to her tummy when she tells him she needs to pee and he says she can’t yet. maybe he pushes it, waits until she’s squirming and begging and only the does he say she can. Maybe she tries to protest when he follows to watch. “Hyung says I’m not to leave you alone.” A mean glint in his eyes as he doesn’t move.

Maybe he likes it a little too much and continues to enjoy his power over her, waiting’s until he’s fucking his fat knot into her and on FaceTime with hoseok to tell him all about how she hadn’t been good enough today, that she was complaining about jk watching her, that it’s icky and embarrassing. But it’s hoseoks urging of “go on baby, you where complaining about how gross it was, why don’t you show us how good you can be” her sobs and hiccups music to his ears as jk’s knot presses right /there/ and she can’t /not/ make a mess all over. And the humiliation just intensifies when jk reaches down and slaps over her clit, making a wet slapping sound.

I imagine it’s all in an effort to make her obedient so that when hoseoks rivals or even his friends come over he can show off how /perfect/ she is. Making sweet commands like “baby, show us your pussy” and she lifts her skirts without a second thought, “good puppy, now kneel before daddy and Mr. Min” she drops to her knees without a second thought, nothing in her mind but /have to be good for alpha, have to be good for hoseok/. “Good pet, now suck on mr.min’s fingers like how you suck on jkies cock, show him how good and messy you get pet” and she just opens her mouth letting yoongi shove his fingers into the buckle, keening when he pets over her tongue. “No gagging?” “None at all, baby pet let me train that out of her ages ago, isn’t she beautiful?” Maybe he sits back and sips on his whiskey, snapping his fingers and beconing jk forward, “jk, show mr.min how cute she is when she cums”

“Yes sir.”

Maybe when she complains about something small (maybe she’s a little spoiled) like wanting two alphas for her heat when hobi’s going to be away for it and really she’s used to two knots at once during her heat 😠 why can’t she have that this time??? and hoseok just tells jk to see how many times he can make her squirt before she passes out.

The pictures he gets later…her ass up on the floor with a puddle beneath her, jk showing off his sticky fingers. His own glossy lips and fucked out grin. And the text that comes through isn’t just for her, but for him too

“Good puppy”

[euphoricfilter]

like crazy mini series:

pairing(s): namjoon x reader, seokjin x reader, yoongi x reader, hoseok x reader, jimin x reader, taehyung x reader, jungkook x reader

genre: fluff || smut || angst || non-idol au || reincarnation au || strangers to lovers || established relationships || friends to lovers au || regency era au || gang au || college au || slight yandere au? ||

summary: the story of seven loves across eight lives.

word count: estimated 45k total

✧ mood-board : reaching for the stars

🪐 🌠 ∘₊✧─── *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ───✧₊∘ ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 💫

✧ part one

ੈ summary: the story of why you loved to dance in the rain.

word count: 14k

tags/ warnings: duke! taehyung, jimin, fluff, so much love, angst, death(s)/implied murder, mentions of blood, mentioned suicide, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, smut in the forms of: implied loss of virginity, unprotected sex (don't be stupid, this is fiction), oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, cum play, talks of pregnancy and babies

✧ part two

ੈ summary: the story of how the universe sent you Namjoon

word count: 9.3k

tags/ warnings: gang leader! namjoon, fluff, a lot more love, angst, namjoon is tatted up, death/ murder, mentions of blood, mentioned sex trafficking, mentioned drugs, obsessive relationship, smut in the forms of: dom/ sub themes— kinda mean-ish dom! namjoon, lots of hickies, spitting in a mouth :), biting, strangely feral sex, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), pull out method (again, don’t be stupid), doggy style, squirting, the briefest ass play, implied/planned aftercare!! because namjoon isn’t heartless

✧ part three

ੈ summary: the story of how sometimes heartbreak hurts more than death

word count: ???

tags/ warnings: college bf! yoongi, fluff, a lot more love, angst, heartbreak, smut scene includes: public sex, protected sex (because that’s super cool!!), tongue technology master min yoongi, soft sex, multiple orgasms

✧ part four

ੈ summary: the story of when you seem to find out love just maybe isn’t meant for you

word count: ???

tags/ warnings: model! jungkook, baker! jin, hoseok!, fluff, more people in love it’s sick, angst, death/ murder (again), mentions of blood and injury, stalking, mentioned para-social relationship, smut in the forms of: ??? (gotta wait to find out ^~^)

✧ a supplementary story: you never walk alone

ੈ summary: the epilogue

word count: ???

tags/ warnings: ???

[highvern]

new brain rot!

blind date yoongi who you Do. Not. Get. Along. With.

he was 15 minutes late (didn’t even really apologize just “traffic was bad”), he answers all your questions with more questions, and his body language screams he’d rather be anywhere but the seat across from you

And yoongi would. you eyed him head to toe with disgust when he came in, soaked to bone from the rain bc he had to jog three blocks since there was no parking close by, every one of his attempts to get to know you is getting thrown back at him, and you look like the weight of the world is lifted off your shoulders every time the waiter comes by and offers a reprieve from the stifling tension circling the small table

But if you’re not gonna get anything out of tonight other than pissing him off then you might as well make it worth your while

The fire behind your eyes is the most interesting thing Yoongi has seen all night so he meets you tit for tat, backhand compliments rolling of his tongue the second you throw a passive aggressive comment his way. Constantly upping the game until you look ready to rip his throat out. It’s infinitely better than the awkward small talk you both cringed through earlier. you imply he’s a pretentious asshole and he compliments your dazzling personality and people skills

And that’s how snarky remarks and eye rolls land you face first in the cushions of Yoongi’s couch as he eats it from the back

[kithtaehyung]

minted: two (explicit) | myg

title: minted: two (explicit) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader series: one | masterlist rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , action ; haegeum au , gang au summary: after a whirlwind of a detour, you have second and third thoughts about the guy you saved. who even is this man? and what the hell is in that bag? note: holy shit, y’all. thank you so much for the love on this series already! it’s been a minute since we started a new series here, so nerves were firing on all cylinders. but you all showed out and gave me enormous relief and motivation to keep going, so thank you! note 2: as always, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, trauma/pstd, poor reader :(((, but also YES READER???, tension to the max, inner turmoil, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, yoongi visuals in this one areeee… a ha ha, did i mention tension?, tense situations, crass af yoongi lol, reader is also a baddie but who is shocked, slow burnnnn drop date: september 30th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 9.8k help me @ god

-

-

There’s something to be said about the human gut. 

Not for being the source of multiple health aspects, nor the way it’s connected to the brain. 

But, other than when violence tears it to shreds, it can be quite the defense mechanism. Just like yours churns and churns with each mechanical click of the elevator shaft.

Who is this person next to you? 

Who exactly did you decide to follow upstairs hours ago, killing your daily life to save and join on the run? 

You don’t know if you release your hand or if Yoongi lets it fall, but you take this unlinking to create space. As you slide your gaze toward your companion, he merely shifts his weight and finds interest in increasing, beeping numbers.

How can someone’s profile be so troublingly handsome? You’d be able to think more clearly if he wasn’t both attractive and dangerous. Or if you simply weren’t on the verge of collapse.

Frankly, if you didn’t just murder a man you’d pass out as soon as you took too long to blink. 

To keep yourself alert—and to hopefully gather some much needed intel—you suddenly question aloud, “Where are we?”

No answer.

Alright.

“That driver called you Agust,” you recap on a second go. “What was that about?”

All Yoongi does is stare at his reflection in opulent, dim mirrored walls. Or whatever else he’s doing besides talking. 

Okay. Well.

You can face forward, too. 

“Those guys after us,” you try a third time, because who are you to give up now even if he radiates annoyance. “They didn’t look like Crane.”

“Doesn’t mean they weren’t.”

Your neck almost snaps when you turn. “Are you kidding me?”

As you watch Yoongi scorn the ceiling again, you can’t believe he doesn’t agree. 

Mm. Does he?

From the flex of his jaw, you have to assume you’re right to some degree. Because it looks like he’s very, very bothered by the people that chased you down. 

If those weren’t any of the high-powers but had equal resources and numbers…

What the hell were they? Where did they even come from?

Geez, it’s freezing. Is a drop in temperature the best barrier to you making sense of things? You can’t even appreciate the way Yoongi’s veins protrude with every adjustment he makes to that mysterious duffle bag.

Lies. You absolutely can. But there’s no way in hell you’re ever complimenting that. Or anything about him anymore because he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you! 

Why did he even hold your hand? Was that just a ploy, too? 

But that taxi drive…

Yoongi looks down before lightly scuffing his shoe, and both of you fall silent as you finally give up with a huff. 

Massively dehydrated. Sore. Still covered in a myriad of unmentionables and now being ignored by the guy you saved. 

All you wanna do is go home, and you don’t even know where that is. 

How far did you travel? What district is this? You’ve never heard of a grey zone, but they seem fairly peaceful even at night. Neutral enough for you to consider relocating even if it meant sleeping on the street.

That brings up another question. “If we’re in a grey zone, how did you know—”

A ding interrupts your last thought, and you look to see where you ended up.

But the elevator doesn’t say a number. Only letters? What kinda floor did you stop on? 

One thing’s for sure, though. Whatever room you end up getting, if there’s only one bed you’re hogging it or taking the…

Floor…

There are many things that have shocked you in your lifetime. Many things just from today that had your head positively and forever reeling. 

But when the elevator doors slide open, you can’t even fathom what the fuck you’re dealing with. 

And in this second, more than ever, you understand how ludicrously out of your element you really are. 

“Holy shit,” you blurt, barely hearing the huff at your side.

Don’t elevators usually open up to hallways? Why are you walking into an entire living space? Is this a real place people choose to sleep in for a night? A whole floor?

Forget a whole floor, it’s a whole other place.

You slowly survey everything, wondering how much this has to be because you have never seen a living space so big. Or pretty. Or anything like this.

The ceilings vault and the furniture looks nothing like you’ve ever seen. Everything looks pristine. Clean. Is that a whole kitchen?

How are there living arrangements this big? This one place is bigger than your entire apartment level back home. 

And here you are: speechless, virtually homeless, and dragging your filth onto white marble floors. 

Perfect.

“What.” 

You turn at the scrape of Yoongi’s voice, wondering why now is when he finally chooses to acknowledge you. Head pounding, you ask outright, “Who… Who even are you? What is this place?”

He levels your stare before walking towards a long couch, dumping the duffle and raking his hair back in minted waves. “There’s a shower in every bedroom. Take your pick.” 

…Is that really his only response?

“That’s not what I asked,” you fire back, wondering what the hell his problem is so you can add more out of spite.

“But it’s what you need.”

“Say what now?” 

The fucking nerve? Even though you obviously, desperately need one, hearing him mention it makes you wanna re-use the chopsticks in your pocket. 

But Yoongi simply waves you off, grabbing a remote and flicking on a television so wide you would struggle to reach both ends. 

This is all too much. 

“You know what I need? To go home,” you huff out, leaving fire in your determined trek to the elevator. “Have a nice life, Yoongi. Or Agust. Whoever the fuck you are.” 

You get to the door and run into a dirt-slicked forearm. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.”

“You serious?”

“Yes, I am. So move.”

Yoongi pauses, jaw working overtime before he steps aside—wait he’s gonna let you go that easily? 

…Oh.

That was certainly not what you expected, but what else would you even think? This isn’t one of those stories that ends perfectly after trials and tribulations. Yoongi has proven more than once—in mere hours—that he’s no regular civilian. 

But despite that, you blink before freezing at a terrible realization. 

No matter how you slice it, you’re much better off with him right now than you are by yourself. Even if he is a secretive criminal with a smoking gun. 

He did keep you alive that whole chase.

But there’s the smallest, tiniest chance that you aren’t quite safe with him, either. You don’t even know who this man is anymore—maybe you never did.

So in a quick decision, you skim his side to slap the elevator button, chucking daggers at his brows until he leaves you to wait alone.

Good. You don’t need this. You can find your way back to your city block somehow and live the life you’ve chosen to lead again. 

Yes. You can do all of that by yourself. The chase is done. 

And so is your story with the man that will never buy your tangerines again. 

Grabbing your sleeve, a second fact stings your fingers. A jacket woven in Dragon teal. 

Shit. You need to ditch this, too. Either right now, or before you get the hell out of this grey zone because if you don’t, this is the biggest target you could ever have on your back. 

No good. No good no good you didn’t plan any of this well at all. Fucking pride blinding you to everything else logical. Is this how your story ends? Because of regret and resistance? 

You wait for the sliding doors, about to leave the biggest room you’ll ever see to occupy a box. How poetic. 

Your heart pounds as you close your eyes. Yoongi just cut you loose; it’s obvious he doesn’t care so why should you? No going back now. You’ll figure it out. The doors are finally opening. 

And someone’s inside?

Wait.

Your brain both whirrs and skids to a halt at the sight of the staff member occupying the elevator. When they give you a look, you find your hand drifting towards your back pocket.

Fucking hell, relax. You should be safe with a staff member, right? They wouldn’t be out to kill you. This is just your adrenaline on its haunches. 

However, one foot in the elevator and your senses go haywire. 

Because you can’t do this alone. You aren’t nearly as prepared to brave this foreign space as you need to be. With red in your hands and Dragon on your back? Absolutely not. 

You bow to the hotel staff before you face forward into the expanse. 

And as the doors start to close, you see Yoongi’s stare over his shoulder, storming with emotions you can’t name.

Yeah, you fucked up.

Fuck. 

Fuck you actually made a big mistake go back don’t let the elevator close shit—

As you lunge for the door, you get your arm through to block it from closing, turning to the employee inside and seeing their expression change. 

What was that about?

“Sorry,” you blurt to their pressed and polished grey uniform. “I forgot something inside.”

“I can wait, Miss,” they immediately offer, to which you politely and cautiously decline. 

“No need.” When you step out of the elevator, something happens that you think about hours and hours later. “I’ll come down when I’m ready, thank you.”

You can suddenly breathe again. Why was it so stuffy in there?

The worker bows stiff. “As you wish.” 

Without pause, you nod, waiting until the doors close to face someone turned away.

Ugh. It’s like Yoongi knew you weren’t gonna leave. Either that, or he really didn’t give a crap about what you did at all.

Either way, fuck this guy and fuck your indecisive ass!

In full aggravation, you march through the entrance before grating out, “You’re lucky I—”

“Shower.”

“What?”

“The blood,” he calmly breathes. “If you’re gonna hit the streets, wash it out.” 

“It isn’t mine.”

“I know.”

Your mouth snaps shut. 

Fuck. Yoongi’s right. 

“Okay. Well,” you scoff, “Good point but how can I trust you to not do anything.” 

When he tilts his head with a bored, unamused, borderline ticked off expression, you almost scoff before he drawls, 

“Not interested.” 

Oh. He’s… 

Oh. 

But the taxi and the hand-holding and the the the kiss what the hell? Was your liplock not up to this Dragon’s standards? Why are you questioning something so trivial? 

The nerve. You plunge your shoulders in exasperation, hating how you chose to put yourself in another situation with this pain in the ass and he isn’t even… “I swear to—You know what? Good. Not interested, either.”

A lie. 

Scrambling, your stomach speaks the next sentence for you, “But there better be food when I come out cus you robbed me of lunch today. So do something about that.” 

Fucking hell you do not need his lips to quirk up so deliciously. That one look completely offsets what he just said and annoyingly tickles your core. 

Stop. Focus. You cannot entertain any of those thoughts so ignore him and find a bedroom. 

Opening the first door you can see, you continue your tirade, “And no more stealing my chopsticks.”

“Closet.”

Of course it’s a closet! Shutting it with force, you let out a high curse. “Who needs a closet here? Whatever, just—figure it out, I’m starving.”

“Yes, princess.”

You flick Yoongi off as you blaze down the hall, not even knowing nor caring if he sees or not. 

The next door works, and you shut him out before falling back onto its weight, so fraught with emotion that you can’t even register the appearance of the room. 

Today has aged you multiple years. So much has transpired ever since this afternoon that you can’t even think in straight nor curved lines. As soon as you remember something, another thought juts between. Why are you simultaneously thinking about dingy, stained floors while agonizing over Yoongi’s lips? Is there a place other than hell or heaven you can settle on? 

As soon as you’re physically and mentally patched, you are out of here. 

The plan is simple. Shower, eat, give this man a piece of your manic mind, then go home.

Although… It would be nice to at least know what’s in that duffle. If it’s something worth taking you could finesse a piece of the loot. 

Swallowing dry, you push yourself off the door and finally notice a flood of ambient light. 

At your side, you come across an expansive bathroom, eyeing the wall-to-wall entrance before taking in the center shower with disdain and awe.

The whole setup is lavish. 

Does the water just fall straight from the ceiling and into that large square tub? This looks nothing like your cramped, chipped one back home. There’s even lush plants lining the area and towels already folded nearby for use. 

Maybe you did get killed on the run and you’re in some type of dreamworld. 

Too bad you aren’t alone.

As you drag tired feet onto heated tile, you search for the shower knobs, realizing you have a whole panel to work with instead. 

Uhh. 

What. 

You quickly find that one button blows water like a hose straight from the top, scaring you so bad you jump. When you hastily try another, something whirrs in the floor that has your brows kissing—

“You good?”

Fuck!

You flinch and hit the wall, groaning when you see Yoongi lazily resting against one side of the bathroom entrance. Both of your voices echo in the extravagant interior.

“You ever knock?”

“No.”

“Shocker.”

He walks up the tiny steps, and you’re more than relieved you’re still wearing his jacket. When he gets closer, you turn and face the panel, “I can figure it out.”

“Move.”

You get slightly displaced as he gets close, resting a hand on the wall while bending to operate the buttons. As you inhale his musk, you respond to his second question instead of his first. “What?”

“Is this fine,” he repeats, checking the settings before turning to the shower area.

Oh. Wow. It’s a lot more than fine.

A circle of rain falls into a beautifully lighted tub, steam wafting through the glow and coating your skin. 

You’re so entranced that you are quite literally left speechless. Skirting around your present company, you gaze up, down, silently observing the plants sway with the shower air. 

Strangely, this whole bathroom makes everything you’ve seen today believable because of the sheer wonder of it all. It’s almost enough to make you forget what you’ve done. 

Almost. 

When you pause, you see Yoongi watching your face from beyond the rainfall. And he looks so handsome, even now, not doing a thing. 

Is it because he’s clearly roughed up but still so poised? Very unlike you in your banged up, dirty state? 

Huffing, you fold your arms a little too harshly—out of jealousy or whatever else, who is to say. “I’m good now,” you proclaim, keeping your walls high. “I can do the rest myself.” 

Again with that little slant. 

Ignore him ignore him. If Yoongi keeps doing that, you’re really gonna have to brave the outside world instead of dying by smirk. A tub has never been so interesting in your life. 

“Suit yourself.”

You look up again.

But he’s already left you alone.

Solely to undress and contemplate what the hell he implied by that.

Why did you walk left today instead of right?

Under scorching rain in the middle of luxury, this is the question you repeat in your head. Watching all the burnt streams of your decision swirl, and swirl, and swirl. 

The blood will never wash out.

Does the price of saving a life have to be this high? It must be somewhat divine, being that in order to save, you took. If only there was another way to achieve that end goal. Though there’s no way to do it all over again to be sure.

Staring at four chopsticks on the ground, you try to assure yourself. You need to.

Because at least you succeeded. 

But will your price be more damning because of the one you saved? 

Rushing water mutes your hearing as it pours onto sore limbs. When you reach for the scrub for a third time, you make sure to really dig, scraping at every. Single. Inch. In a last attempt to cleanse yourself completely.

Knowing that even after the water runs clear, you still see nothing but red.

You chose left today.

If you had chosen right… 

Doesn’t matter. 

Your palm tingles.

Blood never really washes out.

Holy fuck, you don’t have clothes to change into.

Wrapping yourself in plush material, you hastily pad around freezing floors as you think of a plan.

You can’t just ask for them. How would Yoongi even have any for you? The jacket was more than enough borrowing for today and you’re in a hotel room, not his place.

Thank the universe.  

But the matter is pretty urgent. Because you’d rather burn your belongings before putting them on again. Which leaves zero clothing and a thousand issues. Fuck. 

Dragging feet to the massive sliding doors, you steel your resolve. Hoist your shields back upright. 

Because there’s no choice. You’re just gonna have to dread another conversation with this man. An embarrassing, awkward, unprecedented shit why is he in the bedroom!

You flinch backward as you slam the door closed. Peeking out, you gawk, “What the hell are you—?”

Did Yoongi just pocket a phone?

The duffle rests at his feet. 

Wait. Did he stay in here while you showered? Thank god you had the foresight to slide all the doors shut because you definitely spent a lot of your time scrubbing like mad or standing completely still. 

No. Yoongi’s hair is wet, so he did shower at some point. And he’s donning a robe, which is precisely what made you slam the door shut. 

How can he look like royalty wearing that? The material is quite lush and silken, but still plain. It makes no fucking sense and you wanna rip it right off—

Gathering yourself, you rush out, “Why are you in here?”

“You took too long.”

“So? That doesn’t—”

“In my shower.”

Wait. What? “Oh.” 

You slide the door open a little more to check his claim. And now that you finally see the room, you can tell it’s clearly been used already, clothes and bottles scattered about. “You said pick one.” 

“I did.” Yoongi turns to drop something onto a dark comforter. “Figured you picked it on purpose.���

“No, I… I didn’t notice the room.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says after a brief look your way. “Not sharing the bed, though.”

“No need,” you snip. “I’m leaving soon.” 

Motherfucker. Yoongi only regards his sheets with a smile that triggers your fight response. And you almost—almost—drop the towel. 

Speaking of. How are you even standing in his vicinity with only a single piece of cloth? Are you seriously that exhausted you didn’t even think twice about it?

Suddenly very, very aware of yourself, you squeak, “Umm.” He waits. “I don’t have any clothes.” 

“That’s what you get for kicking me out so quick.”

Your jaw hits the floor. “So what, I’m walking around with a towel? Are you out of your mind? If you think I’m some—”

“Fuck, relax,” he slowly groans to the ceiling. “I was gonna say there’s robes in the closet.” 

You snap your mouth closed so hard it jangles. “Then just say that!” And you slam the partition closed before fast walking to find them. 

Missing the way Yoongi huffs before staring hard at his bedroom door.

On your second arrival into his room, your steps and demeanor are a lot calmer. 

Is it because he’s a lot calmer, too? Maybe. Is it also because you smell food, realizing he did exactly what you wanted? Maybe more so. 

Noticing a table situated near balcony doors, you blink before regarding Yoongi’s sitting form on one of the chairs outside. 

A man lounging while smoking in a robe should not be this alluring. And yet, that’s the only word you can think of to describe him.  

Throat drying and aching, you slowly walk over and take a seat, already ravenous enough to dive into broth head first. But you eye Yoongi while retrieving new chopsticks, scowling when all he does is flash teeth through the glass.

Do not engage do not engage do not engage. 

Pretending not to care and severely failing, you focus on your— 

“You’re really mad about that, huh.”

You snap your head up to see him leaning on the doorway. “I was hungry.”

“There was a cup of them on your table.”

“So why didn’t you grab those instead!” 

Yoongi ticks his brows before peering into the night. And he stays like that for awhile, letting a breeze lift his damp locks. “Didn’t expect to see you there,” he admits. “Gotta say you threw me off.”

Nu uh. No more heart skips for today. “I didn’t expect to see you, either,” you too choose to be honest. “Thought I’d never see you again.”

“You were going to.”

As curious brows furrow, you break your utensils apart. “Figured something happened.” Guess you’re being honest about a lot of things. “Or you found another tangerine girl.” 

Yoongi holds his look before taking a drag, smoke spiraling around his words, “Why were you even over there? You’re a bit far from Crane.”

You blink at his deflection.

What was that about? What is that look for? 

Holding his gaze because you aren’t done challenging him, you calmly answer, “I was shopping.”

“Shopping.”

“Mmhmm.” 

Falling silent, he observes a little longer before flicking ash off his cigarette. 

And just like that, the conversation dies. 

It’s for the best anyways. If Yoongi kept prying, he was gonna get closer to the truth. And you wanna slip around that as much as possible. 

But he keeps standing in the doorway, inked arm bending as he breathes in smoke. Donned in a dark robe and topped in teal, he suits Dragon perfectly. Way too perfectly. 

Pretending not to care and severely failing, you focus on your noodles instead. 

Your noodles.

Your noodles. 

You’re not hungry anymore. 

Something horrid jams up your throat, and you run through your day in flashes. The restaurant. The food. Dragons. The chopsticks. The kill. The chase. Yoongi. The kill the kill the kill. 

Dirt and shouts and lifeless lips clog your hearing, and your grip loosens completely as your vision shakes and shakes why couldn’t Yoongi have gotten anything else why does it have to be—

A hand. 

A robed arm. 

Your new utensils come back into view. 

But when you face reality, you don’t see them put them back into your hand. You don’t even see them dug in your noodles and left there. 

Instead, you watch as Yoongi plants one palm on the table, slowly lifting strands from the bowl and staring right into your eyes, 

“Eat.” 

Words. Get them out. Something something communication. Key is communication. What the fuck is happening to your brain? 

“I can’t,” you finally croak out. “I’m not.. I’m not hungry.” 

“You are.” 

“Not anymore.” 

Nose scrunching, Yoongi suddenly drops the food and dumps himself on the chair nearest, stretching his leg and revealing a littering of scars. “Didn’t know you were fine with wasting food.” 

The icy descent of his tone freezes your bones.

“Thought you of all people would hate that.” 

“I—I’m not—It’s not that—”

“Then eat.” 

“I literally can’t—” 

“Water. Food. If you’re gonna waste all my shit, then leave.” 

“What?” 

Is he serious? You’re in the midst of post-traumatic shock and he can’t take the hint? You’re so appalled by this man that you can’t even think straight. 

“You heard me. Stop acting like you didn’t.” 

“Oh, I heard you,” you snap. “Just double-checking what the fuck you said.” 

“So you gonna leave or just sit there? If you’re staying I’ll just walk out the roo—”

“Don’t.” 

Both of you still at your words.

And you have to force your palms to unfurl on your quivering thighs. One knuckle. Another. Nails leave half-moons in your skin. 

Breath haphazard, you finally break. “Just,” you swallow, hard. “I’m not wasting it just give me a sec.” 

You don’t want to tell Yoongi why you want him to stay. Despite him being the most infuriating person you’ve ever met, it beats the alternative. And you don’t want the alternative. Truthfully, that’s another reason why you left the elevator earlier. 

Yoongi looks pissed as hell. 

But he hasn’t moved. 

And that’s enough to get you to pick up your chopsticks and try again. 

You stare. Stare. Stare. Mustering courage and inhaling all the aromas you indulged in just earlier today. 

Fuck, you wanna hurl. 

“You’re gonna have to get used to this.”

Your gaze snaps to his, brows and thoughts knitted in disbelief. “What?”

“This feeling.” Yoongi looks out the glass doors, hands resting on the arms of his chair. “The faster you do, the better.”

There’s no way he’s serious. Get used to it? What reason would you ever have for doing that? Caustic, you scoff, “Why, so I don’t waste more of your food?”

You’ve never seen someone laugh in a negative way. But he does before sliding his eyes over. “So when you have to do it again, you don’t lock the fuck up hours later.”

You shoot up from your chair, hellbent on oh fuck you stood up too fast. “You—”

Yoongi just watches as you grab the table for balance, wincing from the pangs in your head. Words grind through your teeth, unable to fully form beyond the light assaulting your brain.

“Like I said.”

Palms press against your forehead before you slump back into your chair. 

“It’s better in the long run.” 

Technically, he’s right. It’s better in the long run if you get used to this. 

But there’s no way you can do it again. Who does he think you are? Yoongi’s got to know that you aren’t planning on making this a daily habit. This isn’t you. You only killed to protect somebody. Killed to save the person telling you to basically get over it.

Fucking hell, this sucks.

Frustration and exhaustion sting the corners of your eyes. 

Eat. Build your strength and get the hell out of here. Deal with it deal with it deal with it.  

As you regrettably pick up your chopsticks, you don’t care if your tears season your noodles. And quite frankly, you don’t give a shit if Yoongi watches them fall, too. 

Because they’re liquid anger. Hot trails blazing down your face, hardening into sticky paths and dried rivers. 

“What were you looking for.” 

Your eyes slide up to regard him, his arms folded and brows low. Because of course he doesn’t care about your state, either. Of course he’d rather entertain his curiosity. “Nothing you need to know,” you mutter, banning him from knowing another truth. 

“Did you find it.” 

You swipe at both your eyes.

As spice coats your tongue, Yoongi keeps prying, “Something you needed to go all the way there for?” 

“Fuck off,” you dismiss, slurping and swallowing with ease. “I don’t have to answer you.” 

“You already are,” he responds, confident. “Now tell me. Is there one in particular you need?” 

Wait. You barely gave anything away, so how is Yoongi asking the right questions? There’s no way he actually knows what you were looking for. No way in hell.

This man is more dangerous than you thought. 

“Why do you even care,” is all you choose to say, more focused on your food now because above everything else, it’s quite fantastic. It somewhat reminds you of a past home, and you can’t help but escape to those distinct walls. “It’s irrelevant to you.”

“But I have what you want.” 

You take another bite before stilling, looking up to see Yoongi propping his head with roughed knuckles. “You’re lying,” you drawl to his smugness, trying to act as if he didn’t just figure you all the way out. Because he didn’t. There’s no way. “And I’m still leaving.”

“If you stay, I’ll show you.” 

When you leer over your soup, he simply stares back with no hint of emotion. 

And you’re so curious about what he means that you finish your whole bowl. 

When you push it forward, you understand exactly what Yoongi did. It worked perfectly, and you have to hand it to him even though he mangled your character minutes beforehand. “Thank you,” you offer some manners. “This was goo—”

The scrape of a chair cuts you off, and your sentence dies in midair as you watch your runaway partner vacate his seat. 

Good riddance.

He knows how to stay on your bad side, that’s for damn sure. 

But Yoongi simply heads back out to the balcony for another light. So you chalk up his swift exit to vices and not wanting to breathe your air. Or maybe he’s done with his fun and is already writing you off before you head out. 

Clearing your bowl from the table, you walk out of the bedroom and bring it to the large kitchen, noting with a scowl that it’s obnoxiously bigger than half your floorplan back home. 

Yearning pierces right through your chest. 

The elevator is right over there. 

You showered, you ate. You can leave as soon as you clean your dish.

Are you way too curious about what Yoongi’s gonna show you? Yes. But is that gonna stop you from getting out of here? No. 

Well. This robe is hugging your figure perfectly and feels way too comfortable to just use for an hour or so… Plus, if you ditched it now, Mister Morals will scorn you for wasting that away, too. 

How rude of him to assume that about you. Of course you aren’t wasteful. The only times you let things go are when you absolutely have to, like you should have back in that noodle shop instead of braving the back staircase. 

Scoffing to no one, you scrub your bowl in the sink, grunting explicatives and stabbing Yoongi with curses until you hear a distinct beep. 

Was that the elevator?

You cut the water off with a twist.

Cautiously, you make your way across the kitchen, peeking around the corner to appease your curiosity and spike your anxiety. 

A bellhop? Another grey uniform looking to and fro to survey the area. It’s the same person that sent a look of panic your way before you went up to the room. 

And your defense mechanism blares. 

But before you can hide behind the partition, their eyes lock onto yours. Arm outstretched, the staff is motioning for you to… join them? Why? 

You’re the one bunking with a gangster. Why does this person make you even more uncomfortable? This feeling is just like the one you had when you called the elevator the first time. Was your gut warning you then, too? 

Maybe it’s because you don’t like the staff thinking they can come in unannounced. Grey zone etiquette or not, you can’t see how this is ever appropriate. In fact, it poses so many safety concerns. How is this okay? 

Walking into the foyer, you rest a hand on a robed hip. “Can I help you?” 

“I’m the one trying to help you,” they whisper, harsh and with another swipe of their hand. “You have to get out while you can.” 

Wait. What do they mean while you can? “And why’s that?” 

Sputtering, the bellhop sticks one foot out the elevator while pleading and, for some reason, that pisses you all the way off. “There’s no time to—”

“Get. Your foot. Off my floor.” 

Is that fear in their eyes or surprise? “Oh, apologies. I didn’t realize you were… I thought—”

“Thought what?” Your arms fold, weight shifting to your other tired foot. “Speak up.” 

Frankly, you don’t know where this newfound energy is coming from. All you know is that there are certain things you still despise and this person is ticking all the boxes. 

“I thought you were taken, Miss. I’m here to save you.” 

Pausing, you grip your arms, feeling silk gather under your palms. 

There’s a lot you tolerate. Many things that a lot of people can’t. But someone assuming you’re the weak one that needs saving? There is no quicker way to lose your interest. 

Stepping towards the elevator, you unfurl your arms, robe swaying and billowing around your freshly showered legs. 

“Yes, that’s right. Come on, we can take you away.” 

Hand on the entrance, you lean forward. “You’re not taking me anywhere,” you command, finger pressing the button at your side. “And you aren’t coming back up here until I say so.” 

Slowly, the doors slide shut, your reflection two halves in the metal shine. 

Well. 

So much for leaving. 

You may spend more time here than you thought. 

With more thoughts swirling, you spin, heading back into the kitchen to pick up the same bowl you were washing. Hoping you and your gut made the right call. 

Yoongi’s a criminal and a madman. But he’s not… the worst. At least, not horrible enough to warrant someone coming up to steal you away.

Besides. Is Yoongi aware that staff can come and go as they please? He seems like the type of guy that would hate that. 

Staying vigilant seems to be a little more important now. 

It’s soon after, when you’re placing the dish somewhere to dry, that you hear noise in the living room beyond the countertop. Looking up, you see someone much more familiar enter the space. 

Hmm. Whatever’s in that duffle must be worth millions for Yoongi to lug it around everywhere. 

As he dumps it next to the couch again, you don’t choose to ask about it just yet. Only because you want to ease into it later when you’re both not at each other’s throats. And while you’re not reeling from another strange encounter at the elevator. 

So you go with a safer question instead, choosing not mention what just happened. “Is this whole floor… your place?”

Yoongi looks up. “Only when I need it to be.”

Interesting. “Does anyone else know about it—”

“Do you always ask this many questions?”

You blink. “I mean. I don’t get by selling fruit cus I’m quiet.”

“You’re quiet with me.”

“And even then I get you to talk.”

Yoongi frowns slightly before moving away, more towards the sliding door leading out to another outdoor area. 

God, this place is obnoxiously huge. There’s still a whole other half you haven’t seen yet. 

When you peer out, you watch as he leans against the railing, seeming to look both up at the building and down at the streets below. 

Well. If you aren’t leaving anytime soon, may as well offer some sort of peace offering. Maybe the two of you just need to chill the fuck out. 

Rummaging through the kitchen, you manage to find some high quality beer in the fridge. On your walk to the sliding glass, you’re reminded of the time you gave him one before when he helped fix your cart. 

That was so long ago. 

You’re so lost in thought that you barely register Yoongi whipping a hand to his waist when you walk outside. But you catch the metal just in time. 

“It’s me!” you quickly alert before regressing back to annoyance, “Really…”

You’ve had way too much to deal with today. You don’t need a bullet in your chest to be another problem. 

Especially since his little maneuver showed a bit more skin than you meant to see.

Yoongi eyes you before his shoulders rest, and you stride forward to offer up the cold can in your palm. 

But you decide to hesitate while he goes to grab it, and you instead open it to have some. 

Ugh. High quality, your ass. This one is way too bitter. 

Your companion snorts as you make up an excuse, “I’ve had better.” 

“Do you even drink?” 

“Well, yeah,” you pout. Needing to prove it, you decide to keep the can. “Lemme try again.”

Somehow, this leads to you sharing the beer with him, tasting the mix of alcohol and smoke even after he tosses another cigarette off the ledge.

It’s not quite enough to forget, but it’s certainly helping. Observing the clouds so close and the city so far beneath your toes is extremely calming. It’s almost like you’re flying. 

“It’s different here,” you mention out of the blue.

“This sector?” 

“This high up.” Breathing in altitude, you sigh. “I’ve never been higher than my fourth story. It’s nice.” 

“It’s usually silent, too.” 

Your eyes slightly stab. “Whatever. You like having me around and just won’t admit it.” At this, Yoongi avoids direct contact. “Mmhmm. Don’t even try to hide it.” 

“You’re useful to me.” You freeze. “That’s why you’re here.” 

You shake your head. For someone deeming you useful, Yoongi’s pretty nonchalant about you dipping. Taking a tangy sip, you clarify, “But you don’t care if I leave? If someone comes to take me?”  

He takes the offered can. “Mm.” 

That answers that.

You should probably still tell him about what happened, though. His reaction could give more away than his words.

Instead, you drink in the night with your eyes. Knowing that you should know better about the company present. 

The more you converse with Yoongi, the more you pick up. And one of those sad facts is that he doesn’t give a shit about anything you do or don’t do. Because all he really cares about is what he needs. 

You can’t do anything to change him. Fix him. Whatever exists in fairytales. So you decide to take the night in stride. Not give a shit about him, either, per se. 

Your curiosity gets the better of you now. Not just about what he’s gonna show you, but about that duffle. You quite literally don’t have anything to lose anymore, so may as well go for the question you’ve been wanting to ask all day. 

“I was gonna ask for a cut of that,” you divulge with a head-tilt to the bag. “But figured you won’t even show me.” 

“Why not?” 

“Uhh.” You didn’t expect this. “You don’t like questions? You’re always secretive?” 

“Never talk to the streets, princess. They’ll snitch on everything you say.”  

“That’s deep,” you admit, taking a once full beer in your palm. “But I’m no snitch.”

“I know.” 

Your look carries a slight pang. 

“Come here.” Both of you walk inside as he plays with his lighter. When you round the couch, Yoongi dumps the bag right onto the cushions. “If you wanna see what’s in here, do it.” 

You stare before slowly walking forward and kneeling to unzip the bag. As your slide reveals the contents, you’re nervous about what you’ll see. 

But when it’s open, you freeze. 

It’s all…chil-don? Tons of money wrapped in sleek stacks with edges so… Crisp. New. 

Wait. 

These patterns. 

These are il-don? 

Holy fucking shit there’s no way these are real. This is currency seven generations old. The first ever of the established system. Worth more than anything in current circulation, especially in their pristine state. Forget being worth millions, these are next to priceless. 

You’ve never seen them like this.

“They’re some of the last in mint condition.” 

The shock value is so high you forgot you were alone. Slowly turning, your breath catches as you ask, “How did you know where to find these?” 

“Like I said,” he drones. “Streets talk.” 

You look at the bills before glancing back up. “Can I…?” 

Yoongi cocks a brow before angling his mouth. “Touch them? Do what you want, doll.” 

You blink at the name this time. Because him saying that with a fresh cig in his lips is making your stomach flutter. 

Picking up a fresh stack, you inspect the ancient pattern inlay with eyes wide, admiring how paper so old can have such detailed engravings. “These can’t be real.” 

“They are.” He shifts. “And most people never see one in their lifetime.”

You put the money back on the pile inside. Yes, these have got to be worth a fortune. But there’s nothing else in the bag? No drugs, no lethal substances, anything? “Wait, so. This is it?” 

Yoongi fully laughs before flicking his lighter again. “You want something else?” 

“No, I—” You back away. “There’s really nothing else in there?” 

Coolly, he lights up before taking the initial drag. “Nah.” 

Smoke spirals around you. “I dunno what I expected but it wasn’t that.”

Yoongi lets a wisp leave his mouth. You know it’s getting in your robe, but caring about the little things has now jumped out the window. “Whatever’s in that bag can feed half the city.” 

“What?” As you look, he walks over to what looks like a small section of a bar. “Is that why you stole it?”

“Stole it?” Yoongi grins and shakes his head. “Sure. That’s why we stole it.”

“We? Leave me out of this.”

“Too late.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You step forward in anger, but you only get a sound out before Yoongi straightens, aura blazing,

“I—”

“Say I do leave you out of it. Nothing happened tonight, according to me.” He discards his fresh light in an ashtray, watching it die before sliding his gaze your way. “Doesn’t mean whoever we just fought will suddenly leave you alone.”

Shit. He has a point. You ran for so long and fought plenty of those guys.

Is this what he meant? Getting used to that feeling? Maybe your consequence is joining the cycle of the damned, forced to kill in order to protect. Both others and now yourself. 

“But I’m… Just a nobody. A civilian, I…”

Yoongi walks until he’s in front of you, hand cupping your chin and voice whispering mortifying allegations in your ear, 

“You took a body for a Dragon, love. You’re not a civilian anymore.”

Your arms shove him backward without pause, face distraught as you watch his smirk bounce with his shoulders. His cackle echoes mad through the room, pinging the floors and piercing through your robe. 

Truthfully, it doesn’t even feel like you’re wearing one. So naked and exposed in the open for this man to see. “You’re despicable.”

“That right?” His mouth sets as his lids lower. “And what about the one that killed and kept running?”

What.

“There was a police car at the restaurant,” Yoongi continues, a reminder so sharp it slices clean. “Yet you didn’t turn yourself in.”

Your feet sink into the rug beneath. “That’s not…” 

With measured steps, he stalks forward, a harbinger of horrific realizations that you don’t want to hear, “You didn’t have to keep running. Didn’t have to get in that taxi.”

Stepping back, you find the room so stuffy it’s hard to move. “You—”

“Could’ve taken another train.” 

“Stop.”

“Could’ve stayed in that elevator.”

What the fuck is happening right now? 

Yoongi’s close. Very much too close, and the energy he radiates sets your instincts ablaze.

This is the man you’ve been pining over this whole time? If you ever get back home, you have got to remind yourself to avoid him at all costs. There’s nothing good for you if you stay. Danger surrounds every inch of him, and there’s no telling when you’ll take collateral damage.

“But you didn’t,” he delivers the final blow. “And you’re still here.” 

Lifting your chin, Yoongi grins slow when you yank away. 

“I should’ve never saved you.” Gaze finally locked, you growl from within, letting a monster loose, 

“I should’ve left you for dead.” 

Wait. 

Stop. 

This isn’t you. This isn’t who you are. You’re a helper. A healer. Those words came out so strange that you’re questioning how they left your mouth so freely.

Did you really mean that? Or was this some feeble attempt to hurt him?

Yoongi doesn’t seem phased. But you clearly don’t know him so it’s not like—

Something heavy and dark as fuck is placed in your hand, and you snap your eyes to his in utmost disbelief.

“Go ahead then.”

Oh, this man is psychotic.

“Be my guest.”

No fucking way you’re gonna do it. “Stop—”

“If you regret it, why waste time—”

“Seriously, I’m not gonna—”

Yoongi forces your fingers flush against metal as he holds the gun to his forehead, both eyes piercing right into yours with no hesitation whatsoever. 

And it is frightening. 

All anger from before flees as fear and intensity rush into its place. Your brain fizzles and cracks as you try to wrestle out of his grip, and you feel burning at the corners of your eyes. “Stop!”

“Why.”

“I’m not gonna shoot you, the fuck!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

Mercifully, he lets go, pistol thrown as you’re tugged forward with a—

“What’s stopping you,” he grounds out, formidable presence all-consuming. “Tell me.” 

You’re breathing so hard it hurts. “You”—a shaky heave—“You are out of your fucking mind.”

When you struggle from his grip, Yoongi pulls you even closer. Reacting in a rush, you propel your knee up to wrap around his side and twist. 

But he proves just as quick, gripping the bare skin of your leg as you shove him down against the sofa. Grunting, you both curve with the furniture, Yoongi locked onto your knitted, conflicted brows.  

“You regret saving my life,” he simply repeats to your frustration. “I gave you the chance to fix that.” 

“Shut up—”

“But your will is weak.”

“I swear to—”

“Guess I was wrong.”

Who the hell does he think he is? This guy—Yoongi, Agust, whoever the fuck—has no right to play with you so casually. 

But something else is swirling inside your ribs. Because through his cutthroat words and actions, this man is somehow stirring the deepest waters of your soul. Ripples rumble and stretch into waves, tugging your toes in undercurrents of obsidian. Dark. Primal. Hazardous. All you. 

Is it from being subjected to such a heavy dose of his power? 

Or is it because—even if just for a moment—he’s handing all that power to you?

Quite literally, you’re the one on top.

And Yoongi holds your gaze, unfazed by the way your robe completely spread open during your tumble. Or the fact that you have nothing beneath that silk. 

He could easily take over. From the feel of his build beneath your hands and between your legs, you know he can. 

But he’s not. There’s no hesitation. He’s legitimately giving you the choice and reveals no ounce of remorse.

This revelation courses through your veins, pumping a new kind of life into your palms. You have a shot at a criminal with a bag of il-don waiting to be snatched. And you know you won’t take it. 

And that alone alters the chemistry of your brain.

With more fear of yourself than anything else, you shake out, “If I’m killing you, it’s gonna be entirely my choice.” 

He’s laughing? You’re instigating a threat and he’s enjoying it? God, you are teetering on the brink of madness and another emotion that won’t dare be acknowledged. 

Tugging Yoongi up a notch, you proclaim to the glint of his eyes, 

“And when I do, you’ll die exactly how I want.”

Yoongi’s lips slowly, dreadfully spread, teeth shining in the dim lamp lights that sharpen half his features. When he speaks, you shiver. Because it’s a mix of pride and fear, sprinkled with a hint of alarm,

“That’s my girl.” 

The room quiets, your bodies locked in a way that you’ll remember years from now. Breaths. Your bare chest hovering inches above his. If there were bystanders, they would no doubt get the wrong idea. Because if things were different, and if this man underneath you wasn’t who he was, you’d entertain another type of ferality and not stop until morning. 

To be fair. That same dark part of you would still do it. 

But this is about the righteous part of who you are. The one that abides by the rules. The one that fights to keep days boring, uneventful, the same. 

So you quell that monster pacing in your core. 

One more exhale leaves your lips before you let him drop, sliding off his silken, tone form to quietly readjust your robe. Turning away, you focus on the night skies, wondering if the people back home are sound asleep as you should be. 

“My will may seem weak. But I don’t care what you think of me.” 

Sound is crisp again as Yoongi rises to his feet. Around you, the air starts to lighten, cold slipping delicately into your skin. 

Slowly tying the wrap at your waist, your words float to the ground, “Because I know who I am. And no one can take that from me, not even you.” 

His presence fills the space at your back. But it’s muted. Less intimidating. Or maybe you’re just at your limit because you admit a little more than you intend, 

“This world has already tried enough.” 

Both of you come to another standstill, two black robes staining a room full of white. Even time itself gives you space, slowing and circling until you’re ready for it to flow straight again. 

As a cloud shadows the light of the moon, you feel knuckles caress your neck. And Yoongi’s never sounded so calm as he starts, “They’ll come after you.”

You slightly turn. 

“You still want to go back?”

A pause. A nod.

His knuckles continue to glide along your neck, slipping down your back before traveling the swoop of your shoulder. Everything in your body thrums, silently quaking because you have no idea where this is coming from and you can’t say you hate it. 

Quite the opposite. And that scares you more. 

“If you do, you’re dead to me.”

Of course. You’ve seen and know too much. There’s no reason for him to show up to your street now, especially if tangerines are all he’s looking for. He can always find them anywhere else. 

But, for some reason, this still stings. In a way that irks even your reasonable side. Is it because of his touch? No. That’s only making you nervous from the fact that you probably aren’t… as experienced as he is. The uneasiness is wholly from your own limitations. 

“I’ll survive without you,” you whisper resolute, chest squeezing when he replies,

“I know.” 

The same fingers get bolder, tracing down your arm before sliding along the wrap at your hip. 

And you freeze. 

Because the tension is palpable. The power is intoxicating. It’s a new type of anticipation and you are fighting yourself to not give in. Don’t let everything get to your head. Don’t let anyone in again. Don’t stray onto a path you can’t quite navigate. 

But fuck, you kinda want to. 

Rocks slide against exposed skin when he decides to speak again. And it makes you wish the two of you were extraordinarily normal. Or that you at least knew what the fuck to do here because the attraction you feel is not as one-sided as you presumed. 

“What made you stay.”

A breath you didn’t know you were holding huffs out, and you swallow with difficulty. “I just…” 

Get it together. Keep up your guard. It’s proving so hard, especially when his touches spark fires along your limbs. But you have to. 

And therein comes another lie. “I wanted to know what you stole.” Gulping down the truth, you harden your resolve. “That’s it.” 

With more restraint that you want, Yoongi bunches silk at your pelvis, hitching your robe and your breath all at once. When his other hand slowly holds your neck in place, you can’t help but flinch, and his low hum pours lava straight down your chest, 

“What a shame.”

Oh. Is this how it ends? Did your gut get it all wrong? 

He could end your life with a flick of his wrist. You know far too much. You’re not useful anymore. 

“Someone will take you back tomorrow,” Yoongi murmurs, proving every single theory wrong. “After that, you’re on your own.” 

And just like that, he releases you to stand alone. 

Oh. You’re going home. 

Good.

This is good, right?

Your heart beats overtime, almost drowning out your entire thought process. The thumps and pulses seem to cut every string of consciousness short. 

What was that? What was any of that? 

Never mind. Nothing happened and you can keep it that way, for the better. Yoongi is risk draped in beauty, and once you’re back home you can cut ties with anyone like him for good. You saved him; he spared you. It’s over. 

…But do you want it to be? 

Yes. 

Of course you do. 

Clouds let moonlight shine again. 

When you arrive at an answer, you turn to find that Yoongi’s already gone, duffle and all shut inside his room with a muted click.

A flip switches as you let exhaustion take over completely, falling onto cushions that still hold his scent. Inhaling, you drift into darkness, wondering how your final decision will affect the rest of your days.

Whether awake or asleep, nightmares are real. 

Only this time, you aren’t quite sure if the blood and guts you’re seeing are yours or someone else’s. Can’t discern the limb on the ground from the limb on your torso. Screams echo and ping from all directions, a cacophony of death that has you scratching at mania to stay sane. 

Murderer. Murderer. A murderer that regrets who she saved. No, wait, that’s not true. You’d still do it again.

And you watch the same swing over and over. The same arc of finality. Those lifeless eyes. Closer. Closer. Sharper. Judging. 

You were wrong. Were you wrong? Running does nothing and doesn’t provide an answer. The ground under your toes gives out. 

How far are you straying? How low are you sinking? If you told your neighbors who you killed for, would they be upset or betrayed? 

They’d hate you. Their fingers aim straight. Their tongues fire bullets. 

They’ll hate you. Hate you. Hate you hate you hate you—

A room bursts into view as you jolt awake. Sounds snap silent, the hum of the air all you can hear as you rub your eyes. 

So much for sleeping. There’s no way you’ll be able to now.

Focus on something else. Anything else. The past cannot be undone, so live with the choices you made and deal with the faces that haunt your dreams. 

Staring into the dark, shapes and sharp edges slowly form, your vision sharpening with every passing second. Tiny pops and creaks tickle your eardrums, and Yoongi’s scent still lingers with your own. 

You don’t want to focus on him, but it’s better than what forced you awake.

A lot happened tonight. But also, nothing at all. Something is keeping you both together, tightening and squeezing the strings in your chest. But you don’t know if that’s from the adrenaline of today’s events, or from the pure shock of your unexpected reunion. 

There’s something else you haven’t considered until now. Despite his unorthodox and hellish methods, Yoongi did keep your head on straight. You showered. You ate. You drank. You inhaled fresh air. 

Your compass righted itself when you didn’t blow his brains out. 

The nothingness was all to your advantage. Was that all calculated, too? 

One part of you—the bright side of you—knows that it doesn’t matter. No matter how helpful he was tonight, distance is crucial. Stay away from people like him. They’re all too cunning to be kept close.

But if leaping that crevasse allows you to keep your mind off everything else? If you need to stop the bleeding, why not reach for a cure?

Your exhale shakes as your shoulders fall forward, self-deprecation destroying your brain because what the fuck are you thinking? This is nonsense. Madness. 

Maybe you’ve just been insane from the very start. 

Your breath quickens at the possibilities. The potential outcomes of what you’re about to do. 

This is the most solid decision you’ve made all night.

As your toes travel across plush, trek over marble, and arrive at their destination, the rest of your body quietly, nervously follows. 

Raising your hand, you listen for movement. When you find none, you softly knock and wait for what seems like an eternity. 

For nothing. 

All that worry for naught. Yoongi’s most likely fast asleep and not dreaming at all. 

Good. This is your sign to let it go completely. In the morning, you’re going back home. The nightmares will consume you and you’ll wake up everyday to brave the streets. Assassins will be on the hunt for revenge. You won’t be saved by the boy in teal. 

What a shame, indeed.

As you step to leave, you hear the door slowly swing.

And Yoongi emerges from behind, minted hair mussed over lowered lids and robe slipping down a tatted shoulder. 

Fuck everything. 

“I don’t regret what I did and I’d do it all again,” you admit with finality. To him, to yourself, to the ones you’ll disappoint back home. “And I refuse to get used to this feeling because it reminds me I’m still a good person.” 

Yoongi’s eyes don’t change as he stares. 

“But,” you exhale with a shake. “Just for tonight…”  

This is it.

The brink of no return.

Your soul dips into the dark.

“Please make me fucking forget.”

—

—

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

a/n: once again, i cannot thank y'all enough for being patient and understanding as i go through life while working on this and all the other writing projects we have going on! it means the world, and even though there were some not-so-fun asks to get, the supporting and wonderful ones are what i will continue to focus on! so if you've ever left something sweet, thought provoking, encouraging, etc - thank you from the bottom of my heart! you're what keeps this writer going. a/n 2: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist

[laughing-with-god]

What type of fashion do you think victor bts would wear including victor jungkook

oooh loves this q, if your gonna shift into my universe you prob need some visual help lmao! (i fully expect a report when you do!)

but this is roughly how I picture them;

Jin

I think Jin had a good fashion sense even before the games. his dad was the mayor of District One so I think he's always had to dress "presentable". I don't see him as a fashionista, but he does care about brands. if he was in our modern universe, he'd be the type to find Gucci very tacky and obnoxious but love Hermes and Ralph Lauren. classy and understated. honestly very "old money, country club" vibes. jin is a nepo baby lol

Jimin

there are two jimins - the one at the capitol and the one at district four. when he's in the capitol, he wears whatever his designer team arranges for him. he has lots of sponsors, and many are fashion brands so he's obligated to wear clothes or accessories from those brands. his team likes to market him as very chic and clean, lots of suits with the undershirt open to show his chest. however, when he's at home or just being himself, i think he's very in touch with his ocean roots. i see him in a "surfer boy" aesthetic, pearls, seashells, and free-flowing tops. in my universe, District Four is like a Florida or tropical place- so it's always sunny and hot.

namjoon

sweater vests. turtle necks. slacks. this is it. mainly in black, sometimes blue. very dark academia. does not really understand fashion and just wants to look as smart as he is. feel like he'd also be one of the victors who fired his designer team right away because he didn't get the point and hated being treated like a doll. sometimes he wants to try out diff styles but ultimately I see him being a creature of habit and being like "nah"

Hoseok

poor boy just wants to be cozy and warm. I think I had his games take place in the Arctic? so I think he'd be like really hypersensitive to the cold now. he feels one chill and he'll want to die. he would love oversized sweaters and cardigans. I can see him wearing lots of neutral colors too, browns and creams with hints of green here and there. Very 'coffee shop boyfriend' vibes. also think he's such older bro that he'd carry a lil fanny pack or bag all the time, he carries little snacks and stuff just in case his siblings ever need anything

Taehyung

tough one. I don't think he'd give a shit tbh. but he's from 11 and it's all about agriculture, so i feel like farmer vibes? like boyish cottage core. feel like he likes loose shirts as well, tae doesn't like feeling constricted so no tight clothes. also feel like he loves rolling his pants up and walking around barefoot. country boy to the core.

Yoongi

hoodies, loose fitting and oversized. likes beanies too. I think he has bad blood circulation and as a kid didn't get great access to food, so he's prob anemic and smaller than his Victor counterparts. a lil insecure about it so he covers it up with baggy clothes. another one that prefers darker colors like grey and black. capitol ppl are known for their colorful clothes since they can afford them, and yoongi isn't tryna associate with that.

Jungkook

i never made a victors revenge jk since i didn't know if i was just going to make it qq jk when he won the games lol. either way, i'm sticking with district two for him. so def a career and def a lil cray. i think he'd enjoy looking as intimidating as possible, fully leaning into the 'bloody thirsty career' reputation he has. I see him getting tats and piercings and wearing things like leather jackets and steel-toed boots. probably like "grunge" or "cyberpunk" aesthetic??

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

Which member(s) would enjoy fucking in front of a mirror, and in which position?

Not to shamelessly advertise 'customer service' or anything...

Ahem, anyway, I would say doggy or reverse cowgirl, because obviously the sad part about those positions is missing the full frontal view. I don't think any of them would be strictly opposed to it, but I feel that Taehyung would make the most of it.

Imagine sitting on his dick and him asking you to get yourself off while he watches over your shoulder. Lights down low, soft jazz music, maybe some candles? You have to fulfill your part of the fantasy, of course, aesthetics are key for Taehyung.

Jimin would do it because he's a freak. I mean, what? He wouldn't suggest it, but he would very much love you to suggest it. Come on, he loves to be doted on plus he's giga hot. Jungkook, well, he didn't get tatted and buff for you to not look at him while fuckin' (okay, fine! I'm biased and I wanna look at him while doing doggy! is that so wrong? XD). Yoongi would be "sure, I won't stop you, I don't get it though" while definitely hard staring at bouncing titty. He won't admit it. Namjoon doesn't think sex needs to be complicated, yet would like the idea because it means you're confident in yourself plus he gets to see more sexy angles. Can't say no to that. Seokjin is of course very handsome. No mirror has ever done him wrong. His ears might definitely would be bright red the entire time. He might find it strange, jokingly complain, and still do it (pfft). Hoseok might be a little embarrassed and once he's into it he might forget the mirror is there so it might not have its full intended effect. Repeat for more results, perhaps? :D

[seokjinsonlyone]

btw i love how accurately you depict each member cuz 99% of bloggers here make bts seem like discord daddies 😭

but who do you think in bts would be the scariest in an argument with their partner?

to me, I feel like the maknae line would be scary if you made them angry enough like imagine jk swole tatted ass yelling at you and having you backed into a corner idk

listeeeennnn as sexy as they can be sometimes, me and the tannies just go back way too far to only see them in that occasional state of being like… i’ve seen jimin kick himself out of a chair and hobi play celine dion out his nostril on a recorder like u just gotta be fr from time to time 🫡 that being said

i don’t think jk would be the scariest like he may be big nd buff but he’s still a baby our kookoo baby star candy angel prince puppy would get more upset than anything in an argument like i can see him just getting really exasperated if he was tryna explain himself to you but you won’t hearing or believing him like he’ll be more ready to cry than anything like he’s just so accustomed to being our baby light bulb funky little pop star golden maknae that he’s just used to sitting there and taking it so i really believe that in an argument he wouldn’t be that aggressive however i do think that if you pushed him hard enough he would get loud wit you for a second just to shut you up before you make him reach his limit. scary meter: [5/10]

you know who i do think is really scary tho? hobi 😳. he may be all smiles and giggles and sunshine but when you piss him off the dark clouds roll in fr 😬 like say the wrong thing on the right day and you gon be in for something treacherous keep in mind this the same man that threw a banana at jungkook like the last time i heard of throwing a banana at someone was in mario kart now i can’t really see him raising his voice but he WILL back u into a corner like i have a clear vision of him red in the face gritting his teeth spewing straight up venom if y’all get into it real bad. scary meter: [9/10]

now when you think about a bangtan fight it seem like jimin always at the scene of the crime. u got the mandu incident, the time him nd jungkook got into it nd ended up hugging in the rain, on burn the stage when tae nd seokjinnie was having it out he was scolding them afterwards like he just always there for a tussle. so when i imagine fighting with jimin i can just see you popping off on him saying this and that and him talking over you saying this and that until you say sumn crazy and he gon tell you to watch your mouth, get fed up and tell you to leave him alone and don’t call him or something, and then try to storm out (and that’s when you grab his wrist before he makes it out the room and kiss him on da mouf and let him push you up against a wall and y’all make up 😏 way before y’all come to an agreement). scary meter: [6/10]

i think if you were to fight with seokjin i can’t say for surely that it would be super scary but by NO MEANS will it be a pretty sight to see. like we know he like to run his mouth so if y’all fighting he gon get to talking fast neck and ears gonna be red and whatever he saying to you it’s gonna be MEAN if you push him there he will raise his voice but i think that’s about it like your feelings gonna be super hurt at the end of it bc he know exactly which buttons to push but if you’re ever scared it’s gonna be bc you think he leaving bc one thing about seokjin is he not afraid to cut a person off. scary meter: [4/10]

yoongi wouldn’t hurt a fly nor would he give the impression that he would hurt a fly like yeah he's agust d and we’ve seen that the inner rage does exist but he the embodiment of the pen is mightier than the sword like if anything his anger runs cold like you can go ahead with the fussing and fighting and yelling crying carrying on but he not wit da dramatics you can talk to him or you can go somewhere he not doing all that so would he be scary in an argument? nah. scary meter: [3/10]

joonie is a big buff man real tall and muscly but that’s not what makes him scary bc as big and buff as he is he is equally kind and gentle but there's a definite streak of unrefined aggression that lives within him and if you ever tapped into that it'd be bad bc it's like he holds back so much that when the flood gates open you will drown like downturned eyebrows nose scrunched up red in the face volume at 100 he's gesturing wildly got you backed in the corner ya know the WORKS but i do think it'd be a real quick burst tho like he's gonna absolutely lose it for all of a minute before regaining control of his emotions and he'd apologize for talking to you like that immediately. scary meter: [7/10]

hands down 100% tae is the scariest member to fight with like i'm specifically thinking of that time that rumor was being spread and he went on weverse saying he wish he could like stab the reporters with needles or something like that like if at all possible DO NOT piss him off because he is just so firm in all his beliefs and convictions like he is not backing down and i think he is also the most dramatic so if you take him there he's going to make the most of it like it'd be a steady build up him just continuously getting more and more upset until he's stomping around yelling at you like there's slamming doors and harsh words i wouldn't put it above him to punch a hole in the wall depending on the severity of the situation just like he is naawwwttt the one. scary meter: [10/10]

a/n: AGAIN SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO RESPOND TO THIS forgive me 🥺🤲 ALSO LISTEN can not say for surely how firm MY beliefs in this take are bc like i just am not intimidated by people like they just aren't scary to me unless they carrying a gun that's the only time i be scared 💀