I LIIIIVVVEEEEE FOR THIS!!!! NjBFWEUKBFJVGWADDDDDD SO GOOD SO GOOD SOOOSOOS SOOOOOOOOO GOODDD!!! For

I LIIIIVVVEEEEE FOR THIS!!!! njBFWEUKBFJV GWADDDDDD SO GOOD SO GOOD SOOOSOOS SOOOOOOOOO GOODDD!!! for the 1000th time i loooooove their bickering

Latibule: II

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: don’t do tag list my loves. Thank u for showing love to this fic, and also! Leave a comment and reblog

Masterlist, Latibule I

“Who’s that handsome man, dear?” Your elderly neighbor asked you as she peeked over your shoulder to look at the man who just wouldn’t tell you his name. He was trailing behind you, his face showing his apparent displeasure at having to wake up early in the morning. He detested the sun and he glared at the sky like it did him dirty. Who the fuck was sane enough to wake up at five in the morning?

Definitely not him.

Keep reading

*and the plot thickens*

h a e g e u m | 02 (M)

p a i r i n g. yoongi x female reader

g e n r e. crime au. two-shot. thriller. angst. smut.

e x t r e m i t y l e v e l : 6

w. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS WELL BEFORE YOU PROCEED. 18+ o n l y.

(M) non-Idol!BTS; psst, not much edited, i’m tired ; major story unfolds right from here; italics are the flashbacks , explicit scenes in form of injuries, blood, angst + amygdala lyric parallels, please, this fic is not for minors at all, reader is kept hostage for a while ; slight gore ; multiple POV’s, cameo of a certain bunny (classic) , (explicit scenes of) panic attacks, mentions of being drugged, sexual harrasment innuendos and slight mentions, yoongi and the chopstick scene, rifles and Jeongguk, someone gets actually k#lled by them, passing out of exhaustion, Yoongi is mean.

w c. 5k+

I couldn't go on writing the continuation of this in this same part, for when you'll read, you'll understand. This was originally planned a two shot, but for the sake of my readers, I left it as where the last scene ends. I promise that the third part would be the last.

p a r t 0 1

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02. WHO'S FAULT?

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Your throat burnt.

At first, you couldn't understand why did you wake up— your head felt heavy on your neck, eyes burning at the sensation of keeping them open. Throat felt as if raw salt was rubbed furiously over a wound. Sweat stuck on your flesh like your second skin, and your muscles felt painfully sore.

I don't know your name

Raindrops. The raindrops felt gently on your cold, yet burning skin as you struggle to keep your eyes open. It was dark, dark all around. Your ankle was in pain, yet you remained lying down in the floor, listening to the rain drumming on the roof. You felt your jacket cling uncomfortably to your damp skin and you shiver at the feeling of the your blood mixing with the rainwater which clung to your flesh. You don't honestly remember wearing a jacket, because you were dressed in a tee..

You felt the dotting scabs on yoir skin moisten as water dripped down, feeling your body convulse with the cold which blows over the haunted room.

A journey through memories

Your hair falls on your sight of your now blurry vision. Your eyes are tired, and irritated. They feel painful to be opened, and cold droplets travel down your cheekbones, dripping down your hair tresses. You gasp pathetically trying to breathe, twisting your head to find a certain someone.

Him.

You spot him, lying right beside you. His white tee, transparent due to the rainwater, sticks to his pale skin, propped half-way through his upper torso. His messy parted bangs fall over his eyes, making them disappear.

His lips are slightly parted, trying to gasp air just like you, water dripping down his temple just like yours, his skin shining with the small droplets of water taking homage on his small, button nose. He's drenched as you are. And even more injured; his jeans, once a light faded uraniun blue, is now soaked with blood and mud, ripped open at his knees. The flesh of his right thigh was sliced open, blood clogged down in between the fabric and his flesh.

A blood chilling shiver runs down your spine at the sight; at how you feel the pain in your chest despite yourself.

His white tee is already ripped in half, a long, throbbing scrape extending from his sternum to his belly button.

Your vision travels upto his face, noticing bruises on his neck and cuts on his lips, and when you reach his eyes, you notice that..

His scar is bleeding.

Though you don't see the whole of it, covered with his mass of hair, but you see a droplet of crimson bleed out of the scar, now a maroon transversal thick line, dried scab. It bleeds out and mingles with his silky, wet skin with the rainwater, but the bleeding didn't cease. A drop falls out, slowly, slowly.

Your chest tightens at the sight, yearning to reach out to him and wipe it off, and even without thinking twice, you cup his cold, wet cheek. Wiping off the blood which trickles down. You wonder if it hurts him as much as it hurts you to look at.

Though you yourself feel shocked at your action, you don't budge. You simply stare at him, and your touch has maybe stirred something in him. You see the brown of his eyes sparkle open at your touch, barely a creak, as he sighs, softly in your touch.

A journey through memories

“ Run. ” his voice came out rather hoarse, as if not been in use since a long time.

Tears threaten to well up in your eyes at his words.

“ But Yoongi, you're injured..” your voice is shaky by the time it reaches out of your throat. He shakes his head, a small, tired huff coming out of his lips which sounds quite like a laugh.

“ I'm all fine, Bonbon.. ”

and when his eyes meet your own, a thunder cracks up in the now distant, weeping sky.

And the rain increases in its entirety when his blood soaked hands reach up to cup your cold, now drying cheek, wiping off a lonely tear with his thumb which made its way down the confines of your eyes.

A sob threatens to bubble up it's way up your chest seeing him so weak, so vulnerable like this, all this because of you, you feel like drowing and never getting up. His brow furrows as more tears slip down your eyes, a sob spilling out of your lips as you break down completely in his touch.

“ I can't leave you like that, Yoongi, please..” you're sobbing by the time you hold his wrists cupping your cheeks. He pulls your face closer to his, not untill your foreheads touch. His breath mingles with your own as his eyes locked to yours own, and even if they weren't clearly visible, they were filled with emotions, glossy.

How do you feel these days

You cannot afford to lose him. You cannot be selfish. You want to stay by his side, hold his hand and treat his injuries. Just not the physical ones, but also the ones which take time to heal, leaving behind scars for eternity.

“ Bonbon, you have to stay strong for me. You would, won't you..? ”

You have to stay strong.. for him ?

A small cry of his names leaves your lips as you hiccup, his gentle, yet patient fingers caressing your burning skin with delicacy.

It's just not a simple question, it's a ask for a promise. A promise which you grant him with shaky hands and trembling voice, with slurred sobs and a broken heart.

You know that he's hurting as much as you are, even if his own emotions are buried inside for your sake. He's not pretending, he's being real here. If you die, you both will die. It's funny really, how you feel your heart cracking as pain blooms from the lower ribcage to right at the centre of your chest, the tightening knot in your chest which threatened to break at any moment.

But if one of you escapes, you— you don't know.

The shed under which you're resting feels small as you run, run in the downpour which doesn't seem to cease at ay point. The earth is gloomy with grey skies and grey beach sand as the shine, leaving behind footprints of your own. You struggle to see your path infront because of the never ending tears welling in your eyes as your body screams to stop, stop behind and take him with you, take his pain away with you, your whole being screeches with pain.

But you don't stop, because you have made him a promise.

Memories I want to have erased

You gasp as your eyes fly open, searching frantically for whatever you just saw infront of your own eyes. But what your eyes met..were certainly not what your dreams did.

A wave of darkness washes over you, seemingly suffocating the air. Nostalgia floods over you for some unknown reasons, because this reminds you of something you don't wish to remind yourself. The walls, once painted a faded shade of white, are now covered in peeling, cracked wallpaper, revealing the decaying plaster beneath. The faint scent of dampness permeates the room, hinting at years of neglect and abandonment, along with the rough years of angst it might've faced throughout its years of youth.

You realise that you're alone and helpless. You do not wish to pry on your nerves any longer, because you remember him, and his face the last thing before you're met with darkness. You huff a small breath, you're alive.

But at what cost?

Dim light from an unknown source filters through the tattered, moth-eaten curtains, casting eerie shadows across the room. The floorboards creak underfoot, as if whispering secrets long forgotten. Cobwebs drape from the ceiling like forgotten tapestries, swaying gently in an unfelt breeze caresses your skin, comforting you in an eerie way. Overall this room is awful in its appearance, yet it's not so disgusting as you'd imagine it to be.

You soon realise that your hands feel numb, almost dead from the lack of circulation. It doesn't take a rocket science genius to find out that your wrists are tightly tied behind the chair you're seated, and so are your legs together. Your wrists jerk as a reflex as soon as you realise that you're still in your uniform, now soaked with sweat and your hair is tied in a ponytail, though you don't remember doing so anyway.

You exhale out a sigh through your nose as even you're gagged with a cloth tied over your mouth, feeling perspiration accumulate on the underside of your eyes are droplets, blinking away.

The room feels awfully quiet except the obnoxious winds blowing and the sound of rain mixing together, and you realise that you're done. Your eyes scan over to the room, squinting hard to make out the objects you can visualise in the centre.

In the center of the room, an antique wooden table sits, covered in a layer of dust and neglect. A single flickering candle, its flame struggling against the darkness, casts eerie, dancing shadows that seem to mimic the macabre atmosphere. A weathered, leather-bound journal lies open on the table, and you wish if you weren't seated so far away, you could've moved forward to take a look at the browned pages which seem so inviting right now. Alas, you're bound up.

It's actually intresting to you to know that you're still alive and not dead.

Your eyes scan everywhere they can, except that the room is bland. In the further corner of the room,there resides a weathered brown piano, standing as a silent sentinel of forgotten melodies. Forgotten, just as the memory you unlocked in your dream. A lump makes it's way to your throat at the awakening of the nostalgia seeing the old brown piano. The piano's once-polished wooden surface has dulled with age, now adorned with a delicate layer of dust that tells tales of neglect and solitude. Its deep brown hue, once vibrant and lustrous, has mellowed into a warm patina, revealing the passage of countless years. It seems like the piano hasn't been used since decades, the thick layer of dust being evident for the proof enough.

The instrument's elegant frame, though showing signs of wear and tear, still exudes an air of dignified grace; almost as if it weeps silently for it's forgotten, yet it keeps its head high, gracefully. The ornate carvings along the piano's legs and edges, while faded and partially obscured, hint at a bygone era when craftsmanship held great significance.

As your gaze moves closer, the intricately designed ivory keys come into view. Once pearly white, they now bear the marks of age, with slight discoloration and tiny cracks that betray the passage of time and the touch of countless hands. The ebony sharps, though darkened, provide a striking contrast against the aged ivory.

A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, as if the piano yearns to be awakened once more, to fill the room with its resounding melodies and evoke emotions long dormant. Yet, the room remains silent, with only the soft whistling of the wind filtering through the cracks in the timeworn walls. You can only let out a longing sigh, wishing if you could help the piano with it's melancholy.

Again, you're left with no hope.

A tattered sheet of music, yellowed with age, rests upon the closed lid of the piano, its notes long forgotten and its pages delicately curled. It speaks of past performances and cherished moments, now preserved only in the fading ink and fragile paper. There's something written in dark amd bold, a funky handwriting in black stands out the papers above all, but it's far away for you to read it. Only the winds which blow occasionally along with the splutters of rain reminds you that you're kept hostage, in an unknown place, now just a commoner, a no one.

You close your eyes.

You do not absolutely wish to dwell on your memories as a cop. You've tried to always be honest in your pathway of work, always working hard; but universe has always got different plans for people like you, and karma goes in her reverse path during times like these.

The same man who saved you from your demons, is now the same man who's possibly keeping you hostage, away from the world.

Yoongi .

Now known as agustD.

The room is filled with silence untill there is a creak of the floorboard underneath your feet; cracking obnoxiously. You know you had to be imagining things, but who knows? Anything can happen. You do not know how much time has passed since you were drugged and terminated as an officer, but you're sure it hasn't been way too long. You were possibly shot a dose of pentobarbital, and because the toxins are relieved from your body, you wish to pee so bad. Your throat is dying for a drop of water. You gulp down your own saliva painfully, thanks to the gag you're bound with. It cannot be more than 48 hours; and pentobarbitals aren't really such strong of drugs to be used. The floorboard creaks again. The air grew colder, carrying a faint scent of floral smear and an unidentifiable, sickly sweetness which you cannot recognise, but the smell floods you with an unknown memory which you cannot seem to unlock, yet.

Soon you can make out a silhouette in the dark, visibly a thin figure, possibly a man. If you're kept hostage, there's no need to pretend. You may will die or whatever, so pop off. The stranger's steps were unnaturally silent, barely making a whisper against the cracked floorboard; and you try to concentrate more on the noises of the crickets outside more than the throb of your head or the incoming steps of the stranger. His steps near you, this time, a bit louder, and suddenly comes to a stop.

Almost as if they're surprised to see your presence.

Your inner self is screaming over and over again to look up and take a peek at the stranger who's presence is felt in this room, and you finally raise your head up.

Your eyes widen.

Large, doe, coffee coloured eyes meet your own, and you swear you were just an inch away from gasping loudly into the cloth refraining you from doing so. His eyes are always capable of expressing his emotions, though his face remains perfectly stoic; slight almond shaped eyes with their gentle corners widen nevertheless his expression, and you can tell that he's as shocked as you are.

Jeongguk.

“Noona..?”

Aw hell man.

His voice has matured a lot, though the ridges of his voice retain the boyish charm you were once familiar with. It's now a lot more deep, more like a rasp in the beginning to a slow hum in the end, and you swear you feel your heart paining.

This kid has grown up to a man.

You're very well aware that he has grown lot much taller than he was, taller than how you are. He has a well built figure though he remains clocked in his midnight black shirt and skinny jeans. His short sleeved shirt gives you a full view of his arm littered with art pierced on them, and so are his eyebrows done with. His face is a lot more angular and defined than how it was years ago, now slightly tanned, even, with his midnight blue hair flowing over his eyebrows.

You hum back a greeting to him, muffled.

“ Noona.. ”

He repeats again, almost as if he's trying to work his own brains out. His voice comes out as a statement of confirmation rather than a question, this time.

Your eyes never leave his own, as if you're questioning him all the questions you've ever had in your mind ever since you've come here. You couldn't imagine that even Jeongguk would be with Yoongi, but somehow you had to keep that in mind, that Jeongguk grew up with Yoongi, practically. Even if that meant that Jeongguk was just a young teen when you left Yoongi, and you are only left to wonder what does the neglect of youth does to people. The innocence behind his bambi eyes retain themselves, and it aches you to the core to know that Jeongguk is just as pure that he chose to be with him, even if that meant that he has lost all of his means to live in a world of normal adulthood.

Why didn't you leave Yoongi? Why do you still work with him? Do you not know the dangers he possesses?

Jeongguk takes a few steps forward, his brows creased. But freezes immediately as you two hear the presence of another person. There's a small thump nearby, and you almost visualise his bunny ears peeking up at the noise, getting alert; only the difference was that he was a grown up man now with a huge body. He turns away immediately his arm slides over the door to wham it open and stride over to see who's the intruder in the dark night.

You're left alone, again.

But not for soon, though. This time, the woodboard creaks again, and this time you feel a lot more anxious than how you felt earlier. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest, perspiration gathering in yoir temples, and you breathe in wildly. The air around you feels suffocating as suddenly there's a gaint man in the entrance, stumbling his way inside. He sways on his toes as he walks with steps, with a flushed face and an disheveled appearance. You freeze in your chair immediately as you realise that this man is drunk, watching his dirty clothes and drool slipping over his overgrown hair, screaming lack of personal hygiene.

This man instills a sense of danger and unease with each step he makes inside the room, suddenly taking homage on the floor with his upper half propped up on the wall nearest to the door.

He slurs something in his speech which you don't quite understand, but you do catch on his satoori dialect as he speaks. You just pray to God Jeongguk appears soon as possible, because your restraints are bound quite tightly, a way where you feel is almost impossible to open up so that you can run. But you fear you cannot do it with how limp your body seems to be now. Even in a situation like this, you trust Jeongguk more than anything else because if he had any notorious intentions, he'd have executed it by then, but he didn't really, did he? You tug faintly at your wrists, only to feel a jerk of pain shooting up your arm at the loss of circulation.

Please, no. You cannot even fight back this man in this state. Even if you wrte trained enough for situations like these, panic fills your veins. You desparately try to free yourself without making any possible noise, as you see the man grunting to himself.

That's when his rusty eyes meet your own.

Shoot. His lips stretch to a grin, more like a smirk, and you know you're damned. He stumbles to get up properly, mumbling incoherent words as he nears your chair with such loud steps that they alone makes you want to throw up. You don't know whether to panic even more and trash around in vain, or just sit in silence and accept your destiny because this would happen whether you do something about it or not, no matter how strong your efforts are, but your body gives up.

You're kept in hostage by Yoongi, and you're bound to be eaten alive by monsters in the dark. You're about to die being captured by the flames you, in your whole career fought to extinguish all the life. His leather shoes are seen in your vision, telling you that he's standing infront of you.

Did Yoongi honestly hate you so much, now to have you in this situation ?

Tears sting in your eyes as soon as you watch the dirty, blood scabbed, glove clad hand of the man resting on the hand rest of your chair, right above your own. His hand feels disgusting to be on the top of yours and he fucking reeks of weed and cheap booze. His breath really brings up bile from your stomach, and your head feels light headed. You harshly turn your head to the side, hoping to cut off some of the stench.

That's when you feel rough fingers grip your chin and turn your head to the person standing infront of you. Oh god, the stench is so fucking disgusting that you now seriously think you're either going to pass away or throw up all over. Harsh fingers raise your chin up and you finally get to see the man hovering over you. His eyes partially hidden behind long, unkempt bangs, adding a mysterious and unsettling element, adding to the dread already setting down your stomach. His gaze is intense, malicious even, piercing through you with an unsettling combination of amusement and malevolence. It's as if he knows something you don't, and he derives pleasure from your unease and discomfort. His body is so close to yours that you almost feel squished in between the chair and him. You wish to deliver a straight punch and run away from this punk, but maybe…this is your fate.

You squeeze your eyes close tightly, not wanting to face that motherfucker any longer. You feel his stinking breath near your lips, and you nearly lose it all. You grit down on your teeth, feeling your body give up as longer as you resist the restrains on your wrists; as you try to trash up your wrists in an attempt to free yourself up. But that goes vain when the front legs of the chair lift themselves up and the hind legs fall behind. Perhaps you lose your balance, or the chair gives way unexpectedly.

As you tilt backward, your feet lose contact with the ground, leaving you momentarily suspended in mid-air. A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your body as you realize you're falling backward. Your arms instinctively shoot out to either side, attempting to grab onto something for support, but the momentum is too great. Time seems to slow down as you brace yourself for the impact, your heart pounding in your chest, realising that you're still very much bound and the man is free. You did the stupidest thing ever, and now he has access to you in a better position.

The chair tilts further back, and with a mix of surprise and panic, you feel the sensation of weightlessness. The man leaps forward, and you anticipate the harsh fall and the impact on your head as you'll fall. The chair's backrest supports your upper body, while your legs dangle in the air. As you continue to descend, you feel a moment of weightlessness..

But the fall never comes.

Only, it feels as if time as frozen— your eyes shoot open as you do realise that you're frozen mid air. The man is no where in front of you now— atleast not in your immediate vision. You realise that your chair is being held by someone in the position as you were.. You crane your neck, and what you saw was what you definitely did not imagine in the wildest of your dreams.

A single gunshot shatters the stillness. The sound reverberates through the room, jolting your somewhat sleepy and mild mind. A muzzle flash momentarily illuminates the darkness as the bullet is propelled forward at an incredible speed, and you're very well aware of the impact, because you expect yourself to flinch, but maybe years of handling a rifle has taught you better.

Time seems to slow down as the bullet finds its target, the shabby man. It strikes with unyielding force, tearing through the air. The man's body jerks backward, caught off guard by the impact. Pain and shock register on their face as they realize the gravity of the situation.

A red stain begins to spread rapidly across the man's clothing as blood seeps from the gunshot wound, right on his left, clothed calf. He stumbles forward, struggling to maintain balance, but the force of the shot proves too much. With a gasp, his body collapses down with a loud swear on the floor, the blood quickly forming a small puddle.

Your heart rate is thrice the rate as it was a few moments ago, knowing that the man was shot right infront of you by someone who's most likely holding your chair in the same position as well. Your breath gets clogged in your throat as you process the information, watching the man grunt and look up at the source of the gunshot; only for him to snarl with a curse, muttering something out with his arms trashing wildly in air, looking for leverage.

“ You're not a m..man..if you try sav..ing sl-sluts like he—”

You do not even have the time to blink when wiith lightning-fast precision, a shadow in the dark launches forward, almost like a wild cheetah hunting on his prey, closing the distance between them. Only then you realise that in the faint lighting, you saw a pair of chopsticks grabbed tightly in their pale, right wrist, hovering mid-air as he hunches the sticks forward, right where their target is. They strike with the precision of a predator, targeting vital points on the startled man's body, who screams in agony from the sudden attack.

The man's eyes widen in shock as they feel the initial stinging pain, realizing the severity of the situation. The man's strikes are precise and calculated, finding vulnerable spots between the victim's ribs and joints. Each jab and stab of the chopsticks draws blood, causing the man to weaken with each passing moment, grunting and screaming out curses. Blood squirts out with each jab, but the hunter never ceases his torment.

Despite his struggle, the man's strength begins to wane, his movements slowing as life drains from his body, with a final grunt.

And that's when the hunter raises their raven haired head up, to meet your eyes with his own, blazing with red hot anger, still hovering over the corpse of the man.

The same, pitch black, cold, raging, feline eyes which your vision last perceived before you passed out some forty eight hours ago. The same eyes whom you recognised deep inside yourself the apparent first time you saw them through a camera, but you were caught in the strings of denial for yourself, all throughout.

Yoongi.

Who just murdered a man right infront of you.

With a pair of chopsticks.

Your exhale comes out rather as a stuttering breath when you realise that a match target rifle rests on the chair edge, right beside your shoulders. Your eye follows the trail to the owner of the hand, the very beginning of tattoos littered on the tanned skin which glistens in sheen layer of sweat.

Jeongguk.

Your thoughts raced like wild stallions, colliding into one another, as a desperate attempt to grasp reality became futile. Logical reasoning became a fragile thread, threatened to be severed by the onslaught of irrational fears; sure, you’ve done this countless times in the stretch of your career, but for the first time, you actually feel your heart thumping wildly at the sight of a rifle which, not even a few minutes ago, had someone fall victim to it's cruelty. Your mind was slowly becoming labyrinth trapped in a conflicting emotions, unable to distinguish between genuine danger and figments of imagination, trying to process if any of these were even real.

Your neck hurts by the time you're looking up at the younger man, still holding your chair in mid-air. His facial expression remains quite unreadable, with a hint of confusion in them; but as soon as your eyes meet his own puddle of coffee, they soften like butter kept in the open rays of warm sun. His ridges of eyebrows, though, remain a bit rigid as if still aware of the danger lying in the surrounding. But his voice comes out soft, soft, as he speaks to you,

“ Are you alright, noona..? ”

You almost wish to answer him; you truly do. Your chest heaved as a response from the adrenaline rush dying in your bloodline, leaving your body lax in the restraints. Your dry lips open themselves to speak, but close immediately as you find your throat dry, and the gagged cloth prying your vocal chords.

“ It's not the time for this shit, JK, ” a rogue voice interrupted your little trance you had fallen into, and you watch Jeongguk’s eyes travel to the source of the voice, of course, it's Yoongi. His brows furrow as you try your best to keep your eyes open, trying to turn your head at the man again, blinking with difficulty. The more your tried, vision blurred, colors blending into an indistinguishable haze. The piano reflecting a ray of light falling on the worn out ivory, a mass of raven black in the middle of your gaze, and a pale face. You try to clear your visions by blinking rapidly, but the attempts to steady yourself proved futile, as your body succumbed to the overwhelming burden of exhaustion, your unconscious mind succumbing to the blurred voices you hear, but failed to actually perceive them.

“ Hyung, listen to me. Noon— ”

“ Did you really think that she was in the condition to talk to you? ”

And finally everything was a darkness. You were far lost to realise that the raven head tried his best to not actually prounce on the younger man, with anger, keening to accept that something far more dangerous could've taken place if the man to whom he laid down the responsibilities to atleast keep you safe for the time being could've not heard the other bastard. You were far too fragile in a situation like this where he knew he had to do something to make sure you were okay, atleast, but right things never came in the right time for a man like Yoongi.

But he knew that maybe it wasn't Jeongguk’s fault, entirely.

-

what exactly are your thoughts on the ever mysterious yoongi? and our softie gguk who's soft for his noo— * gets dragged away *

taglist : @whipwhoops @bex-92br @secfir @cuntessaiii

m.list

in private. . .you're mine ! | gojo x f!reader

➜ synopsis : gojo who is notorious for being a troublesome student has a secret romantic relationship with the top 1 student [reader]. reader is distant at school from gojo which makes him think reader is only his outside school.

➜ content warnings : smut , mdni , nsfw , porn w plot , established relationship , size difference , gojo is very in love with r. , gojo's a bit submissive hehe , gojo & r. are both 18 & are senior hs students , teeny bit of angst , semi-public sex ( in the storage room ) , cervix kissing , claiming , possessive sex , pet names ( love , baby ) , hair pulling , praising , fingering , safe / protected sex , oral sex ( gojo receiving ) , face fucking , riding , slight overstim , kisses , marking ( hickeys )

➜ word count : approximately 3.5k words

➜ dev's note : suddenly had the urge to write one of my fav tropes, very wholesome imo ! (≧∇≦) this was a bit rushed but still one of the longest fics I've written ! plz ignore the mistakes if everrr I will proofread this again promiseee

“I told you not to talk to me at school!” you hollered, brows furrowed and cheeks puffing in irritation. “calm down, no one saw us.” gojo replied with a calm and mellow tone, turning the lock of the door behind him in case someone tries to come in. “what do you mean ‘no one’’!? you dragged me away while I was talking to a teacher!” you barked, terribly incensed. 

“stop yelling. someone will seriously come here.” he places his index finger against his lip, gesturing for you to lower your voice. you let out a deep sigh before crossing your arms together against your chest “what do you want, gojo?” you rub your temples to try and ease the headache he was giving you. a top student like you should never be seen associated with — let alone dating — a delinquent like gojo.

“don't call me that,” he frowns, “that's your name. what am I supposed to call you–” he cuts your sentence off with a grumble “satoru! you only call me satoru when we're outside school!” he continues his overdramatic whines, “because I don't want anyone thinking we're friends or anything.” you blurted, his expression drops and the atmosphere felt somewhat chilly. you avoided eye contact because one glance at his cerulean eyes will make you fold. 

“right. I get it.” he leans against a stack of old large boxes, his voice laced with a slight melancholy, a sad expression evident on his pretty face. you could tell by the unconscious tugging of the corner of his lips down. you've talked about this before, he's well aware of your differences in terms of social status and reputation at school. gojo’s friends with bad guys — not necessarily bad, just influential rebels. you're afraid that the way people look at you would change once they find out you're dating a guy like him. way different from you. 

he was pensive. you sigh once again and approach him, grabbing both his hands and placing them around your waist. “I'm sorry.” you wrap your arms around his lanky stature, laying your head on his chest, hearing his soft heartbeats. “s’okay. I know you're embarrassed to be seen with me–” 

“c’mon.” you pulled away from the hug and stared at him with a pout “It's not like that.” you added. “don't lie. it's fine, I promise.” he rests his huge and skinny hands on your hips “I'm not embarrassed.” you retort “then what?” he asked. you could see in the shine of his eyes that he was hoping for an answer — assurance that you really aren't embarrassed. 

somehow, you couldn't find the right words to answer his question. your lips part open but no words were coming out, the more you stared into his eyes, the larger the lump in your throat gets. “see?” he sighs and looks down like he was about to cry “I don't like the mean rumors surrounding you.” you started, “I know they aren't true. but I can't prove it to everyone.” 

“I don't wanna be a part of those rumors. people have high expectations of me,” you tried to explain in the nicest way possible.

“then break up with me already.” he insinuated, and his mood dropped. he was happy to see you but having a conversation about this topic makes his heart ache. “I feel like you're only mine when it's weekends.” he mumbled, leaning down to rest his head on your shoulder to hide his expression, inhaling your scent that he missed so much. the fragrance of your hair that he randomly smells when he misses you — all the time. “you're mine y/n. why can't I show everyone that a dumb thug like me is wrapped around your tiny little finger?” 

after arguing about this millions of times before, you still can't answer him. “I'm trying, toru. I really am trying to make this work.” your bottom lip quivered, you felt like crying after putting yourself in his shoes. “sorry. I know finals are coming up, I'll get outta your hair and let you focus.” he stood up straight and took his hands off of you, turning around and reaching for the lock to leave the storage room.

“toru.” you called out and he quickly looks back at you, “yeah?” 

he usually kisses you goodbye, you know he's not okay when he forgets to do that.

you hid your hands behind your back, your fingers fidgeting. “kiss me.” you whisper under your breath, “what was that? I didn't hear you.” he walks towards you, and your cheeks flush red as his footsteps neared, “can you repeat what you said–” 

you stood on your tiptoes, grabbing him by the collar of his uniform and pulling him into a kiss. his eyes widen in surprise but he gets lost in the feeling and shuts them close, his hands instinctively lands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he leans down so you don't have to tiptoe. 

he lifts you up to carry you — your shoes falling to the ground — and you wrap your legs around his torso. walking towards the nearest wall so you can lean on it for support. he pulls away slightly to let you catch a breath as he continuously — needily kisses you. 

“we” kiss “really” kiss “need” kiss “to get back” kiss “to class.” he says breathlessly in between kisses, “this feels much better than class.” you pant and he chuckles “yeah, but I know you hate being late. lunch break ends in ten minutes.” 

“have you eaten yet?” you asked while trying to catch your breath that he has stolen from you. your hands playing with the strands of his white hair. “not yet, I wanted to use the time to see you.” he muttered shyly, his ears turning red and you smile softly “you really love me huh?”

“of course. you are my world, my universe, my–” 

“show me how much you love me, toru.” you cut his cheesy remarks off and started to unbutton your uniform, and pink formed on his cheeks, his eyes unfocused — not knowing if he should look at your face or your pastel blue bra that matches his eyes. 

“you don't have to hold back…satoru.” 

his ear twitches at the name as his mind goes blank —  filled with nothing else aside from you. he uses a finger to swiftly pull your bra down, your breasts jiggling slightly from the sudden movement. his eyes were transfixed on your hardened buds, he couldn't help but pinch them. he lowers his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it as his other hand cupped and massaged the other one, his fingers sinking into your soft skin. the tip of his tongue swirls around your sensitive nipple before he sucks on it, creating a ‘pop’ sound once he pulls away and nibbles on it gently with his teeth. 

“toru…” you moan softly, digging your nails into his scalp. “kiss me.” you spoke and he obliges, climbing back up to you to entertain your needy lips. his tongue gently caressed yours, his saliva tasted like mint. you wrap your arms around his neck tighter, pulling him close to you as much as possible since you missed him a lot too. gojo was so dangerously attractive that he caught your attention, but the way you still smile at him after all of the trouble he has caused you made his heart melt. right there and then, he was fallen in love with you.

he drags his tongue along your neck, itching to suck or even bite down on your skin and mark you as his, but you never allowed him to do such a thing because someone might see. he always has, and always will, respect your wishes. “that tickles..” you mewled as he left trails of tiny kisses along your collarbone, “and it feels nice.” you added and he smiles against your jaw, continuing to kiss every nook and cranny of your sweet soft skin. “...can I try?” you ask and his eyes lit up, “uh huh, uh huh.” he nodded repeatedly, clearly excited. you have spent a few intimate moments with him, but all you ever did was receive. you didn’t want to disappoint him with clumsy or clueless actions, you have always been good at everything that it was embarrassing that you don’t know how to leave a simple hickey. 

he was heating up even more from anticipation as you hesitantly leaned towards his neck, your hands placed on his broad shoulders. your soft lips press against his fair skin, immediately sending shivers running down his spine. you did the same thing he always does, licking a stripe up — slowly dragging your tongue up to savor the taste. you kiss his neck before traveling up to his jaw, and that’s when you feel the urge he always feels when he kisses you in this area. “toru,” you spoke “y-yeah?” he shuddered after feeling your breath fanning against his neck “can I…leave a hickey?” 

that was the last straw for him, you were being so damn cute that his heart could burst at any moment. “of course.” he replies almost immediately, lifting you higher so you can easily reach his neck and take your time. his hands pressed against your ass, he was trying his very best to ignore the fact that his hands were centimeters away from your panties and that he was directly touching your ass cheeks under your skirt.

“the issue is…I don’t know how,” you mumbled, it was no surprise for him. he knew that he was your first everything and he didn’t mind how inexperienced you are. in fact, he’s glad that he gets to take all of your firsts, it was an honor to be able to patiently teach a pure innocent girl like you all the dirty things he knows. maybe one day, you’ll be able to show him all the things you’ve learned — including a hickey. 

“kiss my neck,” he instructed but you were too shy to do anything. “I think it’s more efficient if you show me.” you tell him and his pupils dilate “does that mean-” 

“yes, toru. you can leave a mark.” you finally consent and his whole face was flushed red, his raging boner was straining in his pants. he buries his face in your chest, cupping one of your boobs and kissing an area near your nipple. he sucks on your skin and you weaken, gojo marking you felt so good. you were a bit sad that you were missing out on this for months. “satoru..” you moan, gripping his hair as your toes curl through your socks. he pulls away, watching the reddish kiss mark on your chest form. “your turn,” he lifts his head, staring at you with hooded eyes — filled with passion and sincerity — “where do you want it?” 

“everywhere- I mean, anywhere you want.” he clears his throat, and your lips immediately latch onto his neck, sucking on his skin hard enough to leave a mark. he grips your ass tighter, his nails sinking into the fat part of it. you pull away from his neck and saw a pinkish mark, “I did it.” you smile proudly “good job.” he praises and the bell rings. “ah, can you put me down?” 

he was a bit sad that your time together ended quickly, he places you down gently. “see you later-” you kneel in front of him, unbuckling his belt “h-hey! don’t you wanna go back to class?” 

“nope.” you pull his pants down only to be greeted by a huge bulge in his underwear, a wet spot evident near his leaky tip. he sits down on an old gym bench — manspreading as usual — “toruuu, can I?” you look up at him with big sparkly eyes, if you had a tail it’d probably be wagging. “you don’t even have to ask,” he chuckles and you pull his underwear down, his cock springing right on your face, your eyes slightly widen at his length. his pinkish tip twitching and continuously leaking pre-cum, you wrap your hand around him and he sucks in a sharp breath. 

pumping slowly, feeling every prominent vein against your palm. you kiss his fat tip, using the tip of your tongue to lick his dripping slit before wrapping your lips around it, giving it a few kitten licks. your finger runs up the shaft of the underside of his cock and he huffs, “‘s sensitive there.” he mumbles under his breath, “really?” you gave him head a few times before, but you’re still getting familiar with it. you use your index finger to rub his tip, coating the head with pre-cum as you drag the tip of your tongue up on the underside of his cock. you envelop his head in your warm mouth, so girthy that it’s stretching your lips. taking him in inch by inch, he throws his head back, hips bucking towards you. he bites the inside of his cheek before sitting up, pressing his hand to the back of your head and thrusting his hips in your mouth, “mmph?!” your mouth was stuffed with his warmth, and tears pricked the corner of your eyes when his tip brushes against your uvula. “m’sorry,” he apologized breathlessly, his chest rising up and down “need you so bad.” 

he grabs a fistful of your hair, fucking your face at a steady pace. your lips were just so soft and plump, seeing them wrapped around him made him lightheaded. tears started to stream down your plush cheeks, your pussy throbbing against your damp panties. “m’close.” he warns shakily, “open wider for me, hmm?” he cups your cheek, swiping his thumb on your cheek to wipe the tears off. you look up at him through your wet lashes, you rub your thighs together tightly to try and ease the heat. the way his cock slid against your velvety tongue forced grunts from his throat, you let out choked noises — causing vibrations in your throat.

“f-fuck..m’gonna cum. can I cum? in your mouth, hmm?” he grunts and you nod in response. he explodes in your mouth with a guttural groan, his hot and thick cum coming out in spurts — going directly down your throat. your jaw was tired, he pulls out of your mouth and a string of saliva mixed with his semen connected his tip to your lips. his cock was still hard and you couldn’t handle the heat pooling in between your thighs anymore. “I want it inside me.” you rub your puffy cheeks against his cock, “please?”

he was still catching his breath, rummaging through his pockets to grab a condom. he takes the corner of the pack in between his teeth, tearing it open with his sharp canine. “here,” he hands it to you, you place it on his head before wrapping your lips around him once again, using your mouth to slide it on him. “fuck, that’s hot.” he rasped lowly. you lick your lips clean before standing up, “c’mere.” he pats his lap and you approach him, he places his large hands on your hips before tugging at your panties. you lift your skirt to your waist to show him, he hooks his fingers on the waistband and pulls them down. revealing your wet and swollen cunt. 

he swallows thickly before you sat down on his lap, he puts your panties in his pockets before putting two of his slender fingers in his mouth. coating them with his saliva before bringing them down to your puffy pussy lips, rubbing it all over your entrance. “damn..so sticky.” 

he plunges his fingers inside your cunt up to his knuckles, scissoring them inside to stretch your tight walls. “and so tight.” 

“hurryyy..” you whine, “be patient.” he kisses your sweaty forehead, thumbing at your throbbing clit. “I want it now toruuu-” he shuts you up by kissing you, tasting himself on your tongue. once he has loosened you up enough, he presses his tip against your entrance, rubbing on your slick folds. “don’t tease me and put it in- ah!” you let out a gasp, your walls hugging the tip of his cock tightly “fuck.” he hisses. 

he pushes in further slowly, your lips part open as you felt your walls stretch around his throbbing length. his tip prodding against a spongy spot deep inside you, “r-right there.” you croaked, your walls convulsing and clenching around his cock. “you’re sucking me in,” he groans, looking down and watching your puffy clit throb. your pussy juices dripping down on his white happy trail, “m’gonna move, ‘kay?” 

you nod while biting your bottom lip. his thrusts were slow and gentle, stroking you deep inside. you clawed at his back and bit down on his shoulder to suppress your uncontrollable moans. his pace doesn’t falter, he’s continuously hitting your sweet spot — abusing it. his brows furrow in concentration, letting out soft breathless moans against your ear. “j-just like that, baby.” you mewled, your lips quivering as whines spilled from them. his hot gaze never left you, watching how you felt so good on his cock.

he was pulsing inside your gummy walls, your arms trembling as your nails scrape his back. “relax, it’s so tight.” he whispers, “c-can’t..” you babbled, soft cries leaving your lips as the head of his cock kissed your cervix. your soft pussy’s flushed, he pulls out of you, and your hole gapes as it clenches around nothing. “ride me.” he commands, grabbing his cock and slapping it against your hole — wet smacks from the heavy weight of his dick filled your ears like music. 

you started to bounce on his cock like you fucking owned it. smearing your juices all over his pelvis, you held onto his broad shoulders for support while his hands are on your waist. he’s gut-deep inside you, filthy sounds of your pussy squelching filled the small storage room along with the clapping sounds of your ass against his balls.

“feels s’good, love.” he groaned through his teeth, the grip on your waist tightening. “I’m getting tired.” you hiccuped, “I got you.” his hands move down to your hips, bouncing you on his cock faster. your body jolts with each thrust he gave your tiny pretty pussy. “n-not so rough..” you sobbed and he kisses your cheek, your tears coating his lips. “you’re mine, right? this pussy too. all mine.”

he presses his hand against your back, making your back arch as his strokes got faster and heavier. “toru!” you moaned his name loudly as he purposely and repeatedly brushed against your sweet spot. he was pounding your tight cunt and you were taking it so well, sucking him in more — each time with need. “you’re gonna make me cum..” you cried out and he groans, feeling the gumminess of your walls fluttering around his cock. “cum for me baby, cum on my dick.” he gruffly moans, he's pushing his cock into your puffy little cunt deeper, trying to fill you to the brim. you brush the pearly white strands sticking to his forehead, grabbing him by the sides of his head and pulling him towards you for a kiss. your abdomen tightens as you cum, tightening around him — milking his cock. 

he soon follows after you, cumming so much that he fills the condom until it’s heavy. you lean your head weakly on his shoulder, chests rising up and down as you two came down from your high. you mustered up all your strength to stand up, legs shaking as his cock left your swollen cunt. his length coated in white and glistening in his semen, “huh..? where’s the condom?” he panicked and you looked down at your cunt, plunging your fingers deep inside you to grab the piece of rubber. “f-found it..” you panted as you pulled the heavy condom out of your glistening pussy, it was heavy and filled with an impressive amount of semen. he sighs in relief, “let’s get you cleaned up.” he pulls out his handkerchief to wipe the tears and drool off of your face.

────

you made up a plausible excuse on why you were late to class, trying to ignore the uncomfortable stickiness in between your legs. when your class was dismissed, you hurriedly went outside the school and saw gojo walking towards the school gate. you ran towards him “satoru!” you called out loudly that everyone turned their heads to you, a surprised and puzzled look spreading across their faces. gojo was startled as well, thinking that he was just hearing your sweet voice again but he turns around anyways only to be attacked with a tight hug from you — your face buried in his chest. 

“y/n?! everyone’s looking!” he whisper-yells at you, “I don’t care.” you spoke in a muffled manner, your face still buried in his chest. “silly girl.” he titters before patting your head, his heart flutters at your actions, falling deeper into you. “let’s go to my place.” you hug his arm as you both walked towards the school gate, “your place?” his mind started to get clouded with dirty thoughts. “yup. and study for finals.” 

“r-right.” he clears his throat and you gave him a cute grin, your eyes darting to the hickey you gave him a few hours ago. you do plan to give him the absolutely sloppiest head of all time when you get back to your house, but first, you wanna clarify to everyone that you are being a good influence to him. 

IM SOO INTO THIS!!! cant wait for the hilarious comebacks of OC!!!<3

Latibule: I

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: haluuu, I don’t do tag list my loves. But here it is. Leave a comment and reblog

Masterlist Prologue

“Give me your phone,” the nameless man ordered as he limped to the kitchen. You turned to look at him, pausing from cooking to give him attention. You looked at his entirety. You weren’t able to take him in a few nights ago when he was literally dying on your garden, or when he was in and out of delirious state during his recovery, or when he finally opened his eyes and spewed bullshit from his shamefully beautiful mouth.

“Looking at you,” you started as you leaned against the counter. You crossed your arm and a thoughtful expression crossed your face. Your hand was rubbing your chin as you pointedly looked him over- his disheveled state, his injured leg and how he favored his right side, and his pale skin. He looked like he fought with death himself, which technically was correct. “Looking at you, I now fully believe that Darwin was right.”

He blinked owlishly, his mind slowly processing what you said but his still weak body was making it difficult. Fuck, he missed being sharp. It had only been a week and he was ready to go back to his life. He missed people fearing him. He missed the feeling of people, even grown men, physically shivering when he walked in the room. Yet you, a woman living alone did not even flinch once from his threats. “What?”

You shrugged, “You know…theory of evolution and stuff…”

“Are you calling me a monkey?!”

Your answer was an indulgent smile. Well, if the shoe fits, you thought. You turned your back on him and brought the meal on the table. He noticed how you set two dinner sets, yet he didn’t bring it up. He only faltered for a moment, your immense kindness and how you were willing to feed him despite his less than pleasant attitude was starting to put him off.

He followed you and you didn’t know how, but when you turned around, there he was. He was standing too close for a stranger, his dark eyes looking down at you. He was so close that the thick strands of his hair touched your cheek. His hands were on either side of your hips, leaning against the table. “Give. Me. Your. Phone.”

You sighed, putting your hand on his hard chest. “I really, really don’t want to poke your wounds again. Please. For the love of God, don’t make me,” you said in exasperation, your hand hovering over his side where the wound was.

He blinked twice, fully mulling over your words. They weren’t a threat. They were a promise. And so, for the first time, he retreated with his head bowed down. How could someone as small as you managed to threaten someone as powerful as him?!

You smiled at his obvious reluctance before patting his shoulder twice and walking around him. You busied yourself by putting dishes on the table, never minding the stranger behind you until you were sat down. You looked at him and smiled, “Okay, try again. But this time, say please.”

He glared at you, “Please be aware that I hate you.”

“Okay, and?”

“And please. Give me your phone.”

Min Yoongi pressed the phone to his ear after walking out of your little house. He looked around while he waited for that fucker to pick up the phone. It was dark when he stumbled across your home that night, and it was only now that he was able to freely observed where he was at. His less than…pleasant activities were what brought him to this little town. The dealings that required his personal touch was a bust. Some asshole who would soon returned the life that was gifted to him decide to betray him. If he wouldn’t voluntarily surrender his life, well he would have to take it.

He looked around your house to somehow distract him from his murderous thoughts. Your house was small, yet it looked so domestic. Overgrown vines had already found its way to your walls, slowly enveloping your house with Ivy vines and flowers. His dark brow raised when he noticed that your house desperately needed minor yet many repairs. He gave the house one more year of survival before it succumbed to the pressure of keeping it together. He shook his head theatrically at the thought of how you were able to survive living on your own in this kind of house.

But what did he care, right?

It seemed that your neighbors, although far in between, all lived as simply as you did. Well at least no one would tattle about his strange presence here.

“Who’s this?”

Finally.

“Yah-” he seethed when he heard Jimin answered the phone.

“Hyung!” He wailed dramatically that Yoongi’s ear rang from the volume. “I thought you died! I thought you left me alone in this boring world! How could you not contact me-“

“Are you done?” He cut him off knowing he had limited time for his over-the-top dramatics.

“No-“

“You’re done. What do you know, Jimin? Who’s the mole?”

Jimin’s voice immediately sobered at Yoongi’s question. He had been researching for days about who might have betrayed them and the organization Yoongi himself created from the ground. The organization did not tolerate mistakes. More so, the leader himself did not tolerate betrayal.

And the fucker betrayed the leader himself.

“I had a lead. But then each time I was even remotely close to sniffing his trail, I hit a dead end. The fucker is smart. And he obviously wants to dethrone you.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched from the barely restrained rage he felt. It was a huge mistake. Betraying him was the biggest mistake he could have ever made in his life.

“Hyung, I’m cleaning this up. But you absolutely cannot return yet.”

He raised his dark brow at Jimin’s serious voice. “Why is that?”

“Because I don’t think he’s acting alone. If you take one step here, I am certain he’ll be able to finish what he started.”

He clenched his jaw and it would have cracked from the strength had he not controlled himself. How could anyone infiltrated his organization? Who fucked up? And who did he have to kill?

“I need resources, Jimin.”

“Hyung…that’s another thing,” he said sheepishly and Yoongi knew this wasn’t going to be a good news. Great. His fucking week had been going fucking great. “I am certain even I am being watched. If I send you money now, they would know you’re alive. Give me time. I swear to you my life, you will rule Korea again.”

You jumped from fright when you heard your phone land on the table. With your hand clutching your chest, you looked up angrily at the man you were increasingly regretting saving.

You meant, honestly, he looked like a grumpy cat. And how difficult was it to say thank you?

The nameless man plopped in front of you and began eating. “Had a good call?”

He shrugged, busying himself with devouring your food. The days he spent recovering took a toll in his body and he had to replenish. After all, he had almost met the devil himself.

“So when are you leaving?”

“I was standing beside you for a minute and you didn’t even see me,” he stated in a deadpanned voice as though he didn’t care either way. “Why is that?”

You rolled your eyes at him. Should he answer your question with his own question? “Well honey, I’m blind.”

He scoffed before shifting his focus at you. “Sure you are. And no, I won’t leave just yet.”

“What?” Your brows furrowed, confusion clouding your face.

He smiled angelically at you. If only you knew back then that he was anything but a heaven sent, you would have kicked him out. Or better yet, you would have ran away from him.

You should have ran away.

You should have.

But now, it was too late.

“I’m staying here, angel.”

gimme gimme~

This is just something random that i wrote years ago. Just thought to make small slow burn drabbles out of this, what do you think??

Drabbles, best friends to enemies to lover ???

Warning : mentioned of cheating.

Jimin x Reader

you hate this. you really really hate this. “can you be disgusting and suck faces somewhere else?” and you snap. the two of so called as homo sapiens in front of you finally detach from each other faces. ew, is that string of- saliva? yuck. “aww, come on y/n. live a little, have fun, fall in love, suck faces, makes babies. you only live once. right, baby?” jimin smooch his girlfriend’s little nose and she giggles while you gag. jimin has this fond look on his face while he stare at his girlfriend. it’s disgusting and a little itty bitty tiny hurts a bit. you did love jimin, as more than friend, but before you get to confessed, suddenly he has a girlfriend and now you have to swallow down all the feelings you have into your guts and make it platonic. move on. the question is, do you?

you shut the book and pack your bag. “where you going?” jimin asked while his arm around his girlfriend, head rest on his girlfriend shoulder. he looks so content that it made your stomach feels funny. his girlfriend just show that side glance which means she is glad that you gone now. yes, she hates you but girl, you don’t care. “i’m going to ‘live a little’ as you ask me to” standing up you give him last look, “bye.” and you gone.

few days later, you’ve been studying for your test in the library. it’s quiet, yes obviously but you know, when the library is pack with people, there will be a lot of little hush and whispers here and there, but no. today is literally quiet, like a graveyard. and it’s pleasant, you love it. not until you heard someone moaning. ugh, these motherfuckers, you swear. “ahh- mngh” wait, why does it sounds, familiar? “mngh-“ that familiar girl moaning again. you slowly stand up, trying your best to not make any screeching noise from the chair, and each of your steps are careful. you swear you’re not a pervert. it’s just the girl sounded so familiar but the man is- different? you hide behind the shelves near to them and slowly you level down, by now you’re crawling. peeping from behind you saw a boy, broad shoulders which wrapped with your college baseball team jacket, hovering the girl. that girl arm tightly wrapped around that boy’s neck, she is scratching the boy’s hair and you squint to see the bracelet. it’s jimin’s bracelet. his precious lucky charms hang on it. with his initial name that clearly spell PARKJIMIN. that’s jimin’s girlfriend. you gasp. “fuck, someone’s here” the boy hastily turn around, “no, baby. there’s no one.” jimin’s girlfriend whine, coaxing the boy’s attention back to her. “come here.” and the kissing noises continue, while you tightly hold your mouth against your hand. body tightly planted on the shelves behind you. what the hell ?

throwing your bag to the side and you dive face down on top of your bed. what will you do now? what are you gonna do now? how are you gonna tell jimin ? do you wanna tell jimin ? but jimin needs to know, he deserve to know. fuck, what the hell is wrong with her? jimin is perfect, he’s loyal, handsome, a good dancer, cute, funny. why that bitch have to-, “arghhhh!” you groans out loudly into your pillow. suddenly you sit up. “whatever it is, jimin have to know”

you call jimin, and he still at the dance studio. he just finish his practice and you said you want to meet him, real quick. thankfully it just 5 minutes away from your house which is right now you feel like you are racing with your mom’s car. afraid if you wait any second, you will change your mind and be stupid. is this okay? what if he’s not going to believe you? maybe you should just- shaking your head to shoo away that thought, you determined.

“hey y/n! you’re here!” he beamed. he’s sweaty, the fact he just finished his practice, and out of breath -which is hot, - which is not the matter right now. “well, i just need to tell you something.” you fidgety, “if you have some time to spare”

jimin’s brow furrowed, confused. “of course.” he nodded, “let me grab my bag real quick” he rush and pick up his bag, say few goodbyes to his others members and coach before he walk out with you. “what’s wrong y/n? you have problem?” he looks at you, concerned. god, he is an angel. caring about people, yet his witch girlfriend- you shake your head. “no, jimin. let’s talk inside the car.”

and now, you sitting in driver seat while jimin beside you. how the hell are you gonna start? ‘okay jimin, your girlfriend cheated on you’. that’s too straight. ‘okay jimin, i somehow saw your girlfriend kissing this boy. you know what it meant?’ god no! that’s too, ugh. oh my god, how are you supposed to- “y/n? what’s wrong?” jimin’s voice snapped you from your train of thoughts that about to collides. you take a deep breath, hands tightly grip on steering wheel while eyes intently staring ahead, and “jimin, i saw your girlfriend in the library” one of his brow’s quirk. “and?” another deep breath you take in, “and she was kissing this boy from the baseball team.” silence. not a good sign. deep breath “she cheats on you” silence, then a laugh breaks out from his lips which made you turn to him instantly, “wh- what are you- are you kidding me?” he said in between his laugh. confused, you tried again, “god, jimin! i’m serious! i saw her today, at the library! clearly! she was kissi-“ “stop!” he cut you off. his face morphed in seriousness that you rarely see on him. “you say that one more time y/n, i swear i-“ he didn’t finish his words and you don’t even want to know the rest of his words. “you know what y/n? i know you love me, more than a friend should.” your eyes wide, how did he- “i saw in one of your notes, a scribbled. but i shut it down. and i know you love me, you like me, and that’s why right now you’ve been making this stupid scheme to me because you’re jealous.” he stare you down, like you some kind of meat, that he disgust. it’s hurts. tears welled up in your eyes which you try so hard for it to not fall down. “i don’t like you y/n. i love you, but just as a friend. i respect your feelings that’s why i didn’t say anything after i found out. but right now, you’re making up a lie just because i have a girlfriend and you are jealous. i hate a liar. and you know that, since you grew up with me” he makes face, that face when he hates someone. he hate you. oh no, you shake your head. “wait jimin, no! i’m not jealous, i’m not lying! it’s true! i saw-“ “STOP !” he yell and you flinch. he never raise his voice to you. never. and to think of it, he never let you explain. he is fulls with rage, and you know how jimin’s get with loyalty issue. both of you just stare at each other with different feelings in each of your both eyes. one with hates, another one with sadness. “don’t come to me anymore. don’t talk to me. we’re done.” he open the door and left you there. in your mom’s car. the tears you’ve been holding all the time, streams down. like a faucet when it’s tap open. it never stop.

you staring at the rabbits in their cage. somehow you feel the rabbits must be really uncomfortable from your staring. that’s why it keeps turning around, you guess. but you don’t care, you skip the sport festival -which is compulsory for your batch-, not wanting to see jimin with his so called girlfriend eye fucking each other because they were somehow thought it is sexy to wear sport clothes. whatever. it’s been a week now since the last time that you and jimin- you sigh. when jimin said, ‘we’re done’ somewhat it feels like your relationship is over with him. yes it is, your friendship. your friendship keychain on his phone also gone. -you still keep yours, pathetically- it’s a keychain where you both bought it together- jimin likes this stuff, that’s why his girlfriend has that bracelet, so fucking lucky- when you went to a mini trip to his friend’s grandmother house, taehyung. it’s a little strawberry with a carved name around it, yours is jimin while jimin is yours. fuck that sounded so good. but no, it’s over now. you sighed once again. “rabbits, it’s over” you tap on their cage which somehow make them startled a bit, earning a small smile from your lips. “erm, p-pardon?” sudden voice from behind, shock you to death. hastily turning around, you see a boy. a cute one at that. doe eyes that eerily remind you of that rabbits behind you. fuck, does the bunny suddenly turn into a human? but you don’t kiss any of it! “yes!?” your voice embarrassingly in high pitched that makes you winced. “i mean, yes?” you tried again, and he looks frazzled, “um, i need to- to feed the rabbits- it’s, it’s time for- um for their food. i, it’s urm it’s my turn to- feed them.” he cutely stuttering, eyes frantically move, avoiding your eyes. you smile, he must be a year or two younger. you step aside, “yeah sure. go on.” he carefully walk forward and open the cage, “can i feed them too” he jumped at your sudden voice so near to his. eyes wide, and he is so close to jump inside the cage. you stifled a laugh, instead you hold his arm, muscly one, the heck? - okay focus, so you hold his arm to make sure he’s not fall down. bet his knee is weak by how frightened he looks. “you okay there?” his eyes wide staring at you, “yeah, i’m good!” clumsily he stands and trying to get away from your touch. oh god, bless your soul. he is so fucking cute.

after that clumsy yet cute incident with that bunny guy, you learnt his name is jungkook, and he is two years younger than you. your junior and he pursuing his study in photography. he loves to feed the rabbits and spend most of his time there, even though somehow you barely can breathe with the rabbits stools makes you gag. but he has his way with the gardener to make some schedule with their turn to feed and clean the cage. surprisingly, you see yourself sometimes, beside jungkook, helping with the rabbits. it helps you with the jimin’s issue, to get you move on and forget the pain from the fight you both had. okay, to make it clear, you really don’t use jungkook to get you move on and forget jimin, that’s really cruel. right?

“-ooking so good, and hot, y/n!” somi’s voice snap you away from your guilt (?) thought about jungkook, “sorry, what were you at again?” hands reaching for another snacks on the table. you now at some of your classmate birthday party, not sure what’s her name again, you know her in some of your classes together , not bother to remember anyone’s name since you just going to say ‘oh hey you! yes you! oh party? of course i’m coming!’ and end up giving her a gift of one of your perfume that you don’t use yet- because the smell remind you of jimin, and you bought that before you had the fight and not using it yet so now you give it away- but hey, she’s happy after all, so that’s win-win. “you’ve been ignoring me all this time. what the hell?” she give you this, ‘oh you get some man’ look, you groan, “no! ew no, not like that.” walking away from the table with plates full of the snacks, “looking at all of the macarons, sweets, cupcakes and what is that?!” her hands snatch the chocolate ball on your plates, “hey! get your own balls girl!”

bring my inhaler!

it's this damn shirt + spiked bracelet combo for me