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Boy With Luv

Note: I found this prompt on Pinterest and it sounded promising. The first person that came to my mind was Yoongi. So I wrote a fan fiction about him. A little reminder that it is totally fictional. The character I made has nothing to do with the real Min Yoongi. Anyway, I hope you like it.

Fandom: BTS Pairing: Min Yoongi x Female reader Genre: Fluff and Angst Warning: Implication of self-harm, slight swearing, little drinking. Word Count: 3k Words

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“WHAT? It’s already 8:45?” I needed to hurry or I’d miss my 9 a.m. English class. I jumped out of my bed and changed my clothes as quickly as I could. I sprinted out of my house checking my watch to found that it was already 9.

A trip from the bus stand to my college took almost 15 more minutes. I started to run once I got down from the bus. I was breathing heavily when I opened the door to my class.

“We’ve already discussed about our new project, dear. Since, you’re late, your partner will explain it to you. Mr. Min Yoongi, as you’re the only one left without a partner, you two may pair up.” The professor announced.

I was too shocked to give any reaction while Yoongi just nodded. Every other seats were already taken. So I had to go sit on the back with this guy called Min Yoongi. The whole class went on in a blur. I glanced at my partner twice. He seemed to be really absorbed at whatever he was writing on his notes.

First, let me put some words about Min Yoongi. He was majoring in Music and we only had English course together. He looked very intimidating. I never saw him talk with anyone unless it was necessary. The only time he talked to me was when I was with my best friend discussing about our plans for a sleepover and he told me I was being too loud to be on the library. Since then, I tried to avoid him at all cost.

But now, he was my partner for the English project, whatever it was. I was already too nervous to approach him about the matter.

Once the class was over, he said to me, while packing his bag, “We have to write ‘Daily Words of Affirmation’ to each other for the next five days.”

“Huh?” was the only thing that came out of my mouth.

“The group project?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh right,” I said, “the group project. So, I have to write something positive to you from when exactly?”

“From today.” He headed to the door. “And also,” he turned back, “You can write a hand written note or send me via email, whatever way you’re comfortable with.” And he was gone.

“So, that’s it?” I thought to myself, “No other instructions? Can’t he just sit and talk like a normal person do when they do group projects?” I was getting really annoyed at this guy by then. What could I possibly write when I couldn’t even find anything good about him?

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My hair looked like a mess as I repeatedly ran my hand through them. “Oh, come on! Think like a mature person. Everybody has some good aspects about them.” I forced myself to think of something nice. The fact that by the end of the week we had to submit our interaction to our professor was more frustrating.

As I didn’t know him very well, I thought about writing something about his appearance instead. What was I going to write anyway? It wasn’t like I found him very attractive or something.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine his face. For some reason he looked like a cat to me. I smiled to myself, “Fine! I’ll write that.” I hoped he’d take that as a compliment.

“You look like a cat.” I typed on my laptop. It sounded too rude. I tried to think of a creative way to put it. I typed again.

“Though lazy, cats are really skillful in hunting. Somehow, your face reminds me of a cat. Can’t wait to find out what you’re good at!”

I was really satisfied with whatever I wrote. Before I could send it, I got an email from Yoongi first.

“With or without glasses, your eyes are the most appealing bit on your face (that’s my personal opinion).”

I was taken aback. I couldn’t picture Min Yoongi writing me that. Also, his message sounded better as a Words-of-Affirmation than mine. I still couldn’t think of a decent thing to say. So without working myself up I sent my message.

Before going to bed I went to the bathroom to wash my face as a part of the night routine. I took off my glasses and stared into my eyes in the mirror. The last time someone told me that my eyes were beautiful was in grade 8. That was before I started wearing glasses.

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I was prepared to talk to Min Yoongi the next day. I needed to find out something to write this time. It was so frustrating last night that I finally built up my courage to get acquainted with this seemingly rude guy.

We didn’t have English class that day. So I texted him to meet me at the cafeteria whenever he could. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity he texted back, “Come to the library.”

“Oh God! That library again. Does this guy even think about other people’s conveniences?” But it seemed like I had no other choice. I was determined to ace that English course no matter what. So, burying my ego I went to the library.

He was sitting at the far corner, his usual place. I got closer and saw that he was reading ‘The Alchemist’ by Paulo Coelho. That caught my attention and I spoke up without hesitation, “I read that book last month.”

Yoongi glanced at me once and got back to reading again. I sat beside him. I tried to take the conversation further, “They say this book helps you to find your true destiny. But I guess I was too caught up with All-thing-is-one stuff to notice that.”

“Don’t worry.” He said turning a page, “Some people read with their eyes and not their minds.”

“Excuse me?” I felt offended, “did you just consider me as one of those people?’

He shrugged his shoulder while still keeping his eyes on the book. As a book lover his words felt like an insult to me. Why on earth did I end up being partnered up with a guy like him on a project like this?

I decided it was time to be frank, “Listen here, Mr. Min Yoongi. I wanted to talk to you only because I felt it was necessary to know you better. You know, for the project?”

“Yes, I know.” He shut his book close and stared at me. His eyes looked cold. It felt like he was daring me to say something more. Something I was desperately wanting to throw at him.

The next moment I saw something else in those eyes. But I couldn’t figure it out then. I turned to go away when I heard him say under his breath, “Because no one in their right mind would want to know me.”

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What could he mean by that? It ought to sound like a threat. But I felt like it was a cry for help. The more I got to know him, the more mysterious he was getting.

At least I was relieved. Because by then, I had already figured out what to write to him next.

“There’s hope for you because you read with your mind and not just the eyes.”

I wrote that thinking he was clever enough to see the sarcasm in it while our professor would have no clue, being unaware of the whole situation. I sent the message and went on about my day.

I got his email at midnight. I immediately opened it.

“You’re a natural optimistic, always seeing the beauty in the ugliest of places.”

I pondered over his words. If he really meant whatever he wrote, that would mean he had took enough time to put some serious thoughts about me.

“That’s for the project only, you silly!” I told myself.

As I went to bed, his face appeared in front of me. The way he looked at me when he said, “Yes, I know!” I felt like I knew the second expression on his face, “Was it, perhaps, sadness?”

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I texted him again the next morning, “Are you busy? If not, let’s meet again.” I had thought about his last message to me. It was rather a compliment. I was truly an optimist. My father once told me it was a strength to hold onto. So, I decided I would not let that go so easily just because some guy was trying to act tough.

I got a reply, “Actually yes, I’m kinda busy. Currently working on my new music.” After a second, another message popped up, “Sorry about it. Maybe we can meet at evening?”

It didn’t sound too bad this time. He was actually trying to be polite, whatever the reason might be. I didn’t write him back. Instead I went straight to the practice room.

It was a huge hall with different instruments here and there. I found him sitting at the very corner with a piano. So, he played piano? I always wanted to take piano lessons. For some reasons, I was never able to.

There was no one in the room. I moved closer to hear him play better. He was scribbling in his notes something I couldn’t see. I patiently waited without bothering him. Then, he started to play.

The music slowly started to build by the time. The sweet music turning into something, I dare say, emotional. I felt my heart getting heavy. My feet felt numb. I stayed motionless as I took in every stroke of the key within myself.

How could a person seemingly so cold, make music so touching?

Yoongi finished the whole piece and looked back at me, directly into my eyes, as if he knew I was standing there. A drop of tear fell from my eye. I suddenly realized my cheeks were wet.

“What did you name it?” I asked about the beautiful music he had created.

“First Love.”

We were sitting across the table in the café. I had a latte while he ordered an Americano. “Did you really make that?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“It was so beautiful. I have never heard anyone playing a piano before. You sounded like a piano prodigy or something.”

“You’re saying that since you never heard anyone playing a piano before.”

A moment of silence, then I broke into a laugh. I was getting used to his kind of humor by then. Yoongi’s smile slowly built on his lip. His cheeks turned red as he said “thank you” in a low voice.

“What?” I said loudly, “I couldn’t hear you. Did you just come up with another savage reply of yours since the last one didn’t bother me?”

This time his smile widened to reach up to his eyes. That was a sight I never saw before. He looked so innocent with that gummy smile of his. I suddenly felt something inside my stomach twisting.

He felt like a boy I could love.

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Was it even possible? Could people really fall in love with someone so easily? Or maybe I was mistaking infatuation for love. Even if I wasn’t in love with him already, I was pretty sure I would be soon if I continued to get closer to him.

One thing was clear. Whatever the feeling might be, it was too strong to ignore. Never in my life had I felt something so deep.

“You are so full of love that you should cherish your ability of making such lively music.”

I didn’t hesitate to send him the message. This time, I waited eagerly for his reply. His words were reassuring. They made me feel alive. They made me realize, I had something in me. But again, that was exactly what the project was all about.

I waited and waited. At some point I fell asleep on my reading table. I woke up at about 10 p.m. I quickly checked my email. The message I was waiting for had already arrived.

“You’re a light in the darkest room, a bright star in the night sky. You’re someone’s hope in the time of complete despair.”

I knew I would keep thinking about it all night.

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10:43 p.m. I texted him, “Can’t sleep.”

“Me too.” A quick reply.

“Wanna meet?”

“Sure.”

11:04 p.m. We were sitting on the park bench. The night was surprisingly cold. I was grateful for the beer Yoongi brought with him. But I was getting high by the time.

“I don’t know what to talk about.”

“Don’t worry. I like silent company more.”

11:18 p.m. I could feel the alcohol was making me a little drowsy. But I didn’t want to go back just then. “What are you good at? Other than music?” I said trying to avoid the sleepiness.

“I used to play basketball in high school.”

11:35 p.m. I decided it was time to talk about some real shit, “I want to get a tattoo so bad.”

“Get it then.”

“My mother will kill me.”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulder. Then he unbuttoned his sleeve to show me his bare wrist. I spotted a faint white line there, “What is that?” As soon as I asked that, I knew I messed up.

“Shit.” I swore, “Sorry.”

“If you ever decide to get the tattoo, take me with you. I’ll get one here.” He raised his wrist again.

“Fine! Let’s get going then.”

11:49 p.m. Yoongi drove us to the tattoo parlor I always passed by and fantasized about getting in.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” I almost screamed in excitement. Yoongi smiled at me and my inside melted.

They were not allowing us to go inside since it was almost closing time. I practically begged them to let us in. After a minute or two, Yoongi stepped forward and said something to the guy I couldn’t hear properly.

Finally they let us in.

12:14 a.m. We were driving back from the parlor. “Don’t you want to see my tattoo?” I asked.

“You probably got it somewhere no one could see.”

I smirked, “I’ll show YOU though.” I lifted my shirt to show my waist where I got a little bow.

“What did you get?” I asked Yoongi, “Can I see it?”

He showed me his wrist. There was a small line drawn along which were the piano keys. It was so simple yet I knew how important it was to him.

He said, “Piano is my savior.”

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I woke up late with a headache. I quickly lifted my shirt to check my tattoo. It was there, fresh as new. I smiled to myself, “So it wasn’t a dream after all.”

I took a pain reliever and made myself some mango juice. I checked my email and found Yoongi’s message. Just the thought of reading it made my whole body squirmy.

“You’re a rebel at heart.”

It was such a compliment to me. All my life, I’d only had dreams. But I felt like a coward every time I stepped away from fulfilling them. I decided, as soon as my semester would be over, I’d start getting piano lessons as well.

“Maybe Yoongi can teach me.” I thought and smiled.

It was my turn to return the compliment.

“The courage you have to show the vulnerable side of yours, makes you stronger.”

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I texted Yoongi that I had three classes, so I would meet him at evening. I already missed more than half of the first class since I woke up late. During the other classes I kept checking my phone often to see if he had replied. There was none.

Once my last class was done, I called him. It sent me straight to voicemail, “Hey Yoongi, it’s me. Just called to know when you’re free so that we could hangout… Yeah! So, call me back when you can, okay?”

I was waiting anxiously all evening. But there was not a single text or call from Yoongi. I kept wondering what could be the reason.

“He’s probably busy, that’s all.” I tried to reassure myself. But there was a part of me which felt like something was not right.

Maybe my last message mentioning about his vulnerable side was too much. Maybe he never meant for me to see that, but he was drunk enough to let that slip.

It was already midnight. Yoongi hadn’t contact me for a whole damn day. I was really stressed at that point. I felt like I had messed up. I wanted to cry.

“Why do you have to be so clingy, you pathetic bitch?” I shouted out at myself. That didn’t help. Since there was nothing I could do, I finally fell asleep wishing that as soon as I woke up, everything would be okay.

I checked my phone the next day. There was still no reply. So, I felt like it was time I wrote my final Words-of-Affirmation to him.

“You are someone’s favorite person in the entire world.”

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Yoongi texted me that evening, “Meet me at the park.”

I saw Yoongi waiting for me beside the park bench we were sitting on two nights ago. I went to him and he looked up, his expression unreadable.

“Why didn’t you call me yesterday?” was the first thing that came out of me.

“It doesn’t matter.” He said, “Our project ends today.”

“Project?” I was too confused. What did he mean by that? Were we just hanging out because of that stupid project? I felt too numb to react to that.

Yoongi took some time before he said slowly, “It doesn’t feel right.”

“What?” I asked.

“We shouldn’t be hanging out.”

“And why is that?” I was getting a little angry at him.

“Everything’s happening too fast. I don’t think I’m ready to handle them.” He sounded as if he were scared.

“Yoongi, it’s okay! We all feel overwhelmed at times. It’ll pass. Just take it easy and see what comes next.”

“No!” he said, “Please, don’t try to get too close. We’ll both end up being hurt.”

“I’m sure that won’t happen.” I stepped forward. But Yoongi took a step back.

“But you don’t know me.”

“I want to know you.” I said, “At least give me a chance.”

Yoongi gave out a mocking laugh, “How can you do that when I don’t even know myself?”

That was it. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything else. I stood there in silence. Tears threatening me every moment to burst out.

“There is a lot I still need to figure out.” Yoongi said finally, “I need to find myself first in order to let people get close to me. I don’t want to lose any loved ones anymore.”

He came closer and took my hands. He gave me a folded paper and said, “It’s my last message to you. Forgive me for everything, will you?”

Then he walked away. Tears kept falling from my eyes as I didn’t stop them anymore. Crying was the only way I knew to deal with grief.

I opened the paper when I got home.

“You have so much potential in you that once you realize your destiny, no one can stop you from achieving it.”

Whatever the destiny was, I didn’t know it. All I knew was that what Yoongi needed was time. And I could surely gave him that. But I was not going to give up on him.

My Masterlist

GODLESS (teaser)

18+

trigger warnings: narcotics, abusive language, gore, harassment, fights, weapons, sex.

Summary: The thriving streets with booming businesses have come to a stand still. Curfews and police raids every few hours to seize any whiff of narcotics terrorised every person, regardless of involvement. The Upper Side lies unfaltering in their picket fences. In this induced borderline dystopia, in your cardboard box apartment you have found a strange joy in watching the actions of a tangerine-stealing thug.

Pairing: min yoongi x f!reader

what to expect? thug!yoongi, unemployed!reader, accomplice!rest of bangtan, warnings with the main story.

a/n: this is so fun

READ HERE

soon ;)

GODLESS (teaser)

18+

trigger warnings: narcotics, abusive language, gore, harassment, fights, weapons, sex.

Summary: The thriving streets with booming businesses have come to a stand still. Curfews and police raids every few hours to seize any whiff of narcotics terrorised every person, regardless of involvement. The Upper Side lies unfaltering in their picket fences. In this induced borderline dystopia, in your cardboard box apartment you have found a strange joy in watching the actions of a tangerine-stealing thug.

Pairing: min yoongi x f!reader

what to expect? thug!yoongi, unemployed!reader, accomplice!rest of bangtan, warnings with the main story.

a/n: this is so fun

READ HERE

soon ;)

Godless (18+ MDNI)

Summary: The thriving streets with booming businesses have come to a stand still. Curfews and police raids every few hours to seize any whiff of narcotics terrorised every person, regardless of involvement. The Upper Side lies unfaltering in their picket fences. In this induced borderline dystopia, in your cardboard box apartment you have found a strange joy in watching the actions of a tangerine-stealing thug.

pairing: suga/yoongi/agust d x fem!reader

part warning(s): drug trafficking

a/n: this is still very fun

PROLOGUE

The air smelled of nothing. Every inch of the hall was so clean that the novices took their time with every breath, inhaling the rare fresh air, filling their stomach with it and trying to hold it in as long as they could. 

"I will now begin to present the details of the latest report of seized narcotics from LB-Z*. The entire block has been sealed for now. But our sources tell us that this block was the latest den of Suga-"

"Suga, again?"

"Is he real? I thought that was just for the news?"

"What kind of a name is that?"

The Commissioner cleared his throat, immediately shutting up the murmurs inside the hall. He was old but when he spoke, he sounded another ten years older. He croaked, "No face to the name still?"

The presenter nervously looked towards her superior before stuttering out some vague excuses.

"Do we even know if it is one person or a gang?"

Silence spread through the hall. Every breath could be counted. No one could really understand how this kept happening. Ever since the Complete Narcotics Seize* began in 2025, the nation watched as the reputation of the Korean National Police only flew higher and higher. Drug trafficking cases that were unsolved for years were being closed one after another and just when the international eye fell on the Republic of Korea, Suga appeared. 

The Busan LBs*, which had been quietened, were suddenly posing a huge obstruction to the nation's falling crime rate. The tensions were high as the stakes were higher. Large scale meetings and conferences were being held and Busan Metropolitan Police suddenly became the most searched on the internet. 

It was obvious that a hall full of officers of every rank couldn't understand why suddenly their well put efforts were failing. The murmurs floated from inside the hall to the building, gently spreading through the city until the internet's most searched topic became Suga. 

—

"Are these fresh?"

The shopkeeper eyed the man before him, finding it funny how a grown man was drooling over some tangerines. 

"Yes. Just brought them in. How many?"

"Four."

The shopkeeper nodded, packing it in a polythene and tying a neat knot before handing it over. The crisp notes he received felt unreal, almost like they were just printed. 

"Are you coming from the bank-"

The man was gone by then. Elated, skipping steps with his dear tangerines swinging in the polythene in sync with his unruly hair. 

"What a weirdo!"

LB-Z: Busan which has become the hub of the drug trafficking business has been segregated into categorical regions by the police.

The Upper Blocks and the Lower Blocks comprise Busan. The Upper Blocks are further classified into smaller blocks named, UB-A, UB-B. These blocks are further subdivided into UB-A1 and so on till UB-B1. The basis of the categorization is not disclosed to the public.

The Lower Blocks are divided the same way with LB-A, subdivided into LB-A1 and so on till LB-B1.

LB-Z is a whole block; the very last block at the very edge of the city. It is particularly known to have the worst crimes and cheapest real estate.

Complete Narcotics Seize: Launched in May of 2025 as a 'cleansing operation' by the Korean National Police. The operation focuses on the thorough investigation of all cases related to narcotics. It began with the reopening of closed cases and proceeded to take the entirety of the Republic of Korea by storm. While not officially disclosed, it is rumoured that the operation was launched right before the raid of the offices of Eco-blue, an eco friendly clothing chain, owned by the son of a Presidential Candidate.

Busan LBs: Busan Lower Blocks

GODLESS (18+ MDNI)

Chapter 1: The Diner Story

Summary: The thriving streets with booming businesses have come to a stand still. Curfews and police raids every few hours to seize any whiff of narcotics terrorised every person, regardless of involvement. The Upper Side lies unfaltering in their picket fences. In this induced borderline dystopia, in your cardboard box apartment you have found a strange joy in watching the actions of a tangerine-stealing thug.

Part Warnings: murder, gore, indulgence of illegal activities, violence

Pairing: suga/yoongi/agust d x fem!reader

May'27

"But I have two degrees!"

You rushed to take the files out of your bags to shove it into his face because clearly he missed it. You pulled at the zipper of your faded grey tote and the zip came right off. 

"Hah! So what? I have two as well and I also have three diplomas. So what?"

Broken zip in hand, you stared blankly as the grocery store clerk shouted at you. He held a shiny duster in front of him as if he would dust you off in case you stepped closer. 

"But-"

"No buts, madam. You didn't get the job. That is it. If you continue creating a ruckus like this, you will be forcibly removed and your chance, if any, of being possibly recruited in the future, will also be crossed."

"Why the fuck would I wait for the future to get a job in a grocery store?"

The man sighed. He was frustrated and you were numb. The heat outside was spilling through the glass windows of the store. You couldn't believe that you were being rejected from working part time at a grocery store. You had two degrees! 

"Look around you," you did, "half of the crowd here is of workers themselves. We are already exceeding employee capacity. Half of these employees are with degrees, diplomas and what nots, moreover they have experience too. Maybe you should try in a few years."

"But, this is just a grocery store," the broken zip in your hand felt very heavy. 

"Yes. And it's 2027," the man pushed the glass door open for you. You couldn't argue your case anymore. 

—

"And they rejected me! Like I care! It's just a useless grocery store," the melting popsicle was posing a problem to your venting so you rushed to finish it in one go.

"Maybe you should open an ice cream store?" the old ice cream seller was indulging in a popsicle too. You eyed him, wondering if his eyes showed mirth behind those sunglasses. 

You lived a funny life. A big room with a three by two bathroom is what you called your home. You slept every night smelling the onions and garlic peels left in the kitchen sink which was a 10 feet distance from your bed, no wall in between. Apparently the builder was very focused on open spaces. You would really like to meet the man someday. The only good thing about it was the tiny balcony, big enough to have no space for a third adult to stand. Watching the night market with something to drink made your terrible days, a little better. 

You worked as a babysitter for a decently rich family but you caught the rich housewife fucking the househelp. You were fired for neglecting the child on the same day. Ever since, unemployed and exhausted you have walked shop to shop in hope for even a part time job. Your two degrees were just laminated tissue papers, you were sure, or something of the same cost. 

"I'll just sleep it off, I guess, again."

"Yes. Do that. Again," the old man tapped the price card and you sighed, taking out the loose change in your pockets. What was so cool about money anyway?

—

You felt like you would faint if you took another step so you leaned against the alley wall, basking in the shadows of the shabby looking diners and bars. Another block down and you would be home. The disgustingly small and dilapidated room was all that you needed after a horrible day. So you mentally made a count, deciding that you would start walking right after. 

1… A deep inhale. 

2… Holding your breath. 

3… A deep exhale that poured out not only carbon dioxide but a bit of your exhaustion and sorrow too. 

4… Another deep inhale. 

5… Holding your breath again. 

6… A deep exhale-

A shriek of terror rang in your ears that got immediately muffled with the sound of something heavy dropping to the ground. You couldn't recall at what point your eyes shot open and you were sprinting to help the man who was slowly beginning to get drenched, lying in a pool of blood. 

The man was fairly large and well built but his eyes faded in and out of focus as he coughed out more blood. Your hands frantically searched for your phone in your bag as you kneeled on the ground next to him. You only realised you were screaming for help when you heard the emergency services on the other side of the call. 

You had just told them the location and hung up when you finally noticed the knife stabbed into his stomach. It didn't go in very deep but the wound was bleeding profusely. The man groaned in pain and reached towards the wound. 

"Wait, don't touch it," you looked around for anything that you could help him with but there was nothing and no one. 

You stumbled back on your feet and ran towards the end of the alley to ask for help. It looked like the man would bleed out before help got there. You sprinted ahead but before you could exit the alley, you heard sirens blare. With a sigh of relief, you turned towards the siren only to be met with a gun to your head. 

"Don't move. Get in the car."

"What? What is going on-"

"You are under arrest on the suspicion of murder or bodily harm. You have the right to remain-"

"Remain exactly the fuck where I am. What are you doing? I called you people. What insanity is this?"

—

"Look. I called you guys. I was the one who called for help. I found him in the alley bleeding."

The inspector scrolled his screen and you weren't sure if he was listening to you at all. 

"Excuse me-"

"Shut up."

You gaped at the man who just asked you to shut up. It wasn't the inspector, no. It was the guy who was handcuffed to the next chair. His eyes were closed as he relaxed on the chair. It didn't really look like he was bothered about being handcuffed and possibly being thrown in jail. But all thoughts aside, all your senses came to one agreement: he was unarguably a sight for sore eyes.

Nonetheless, a pretty face couldn't be excused for being disrespectful to you. So you cleared your throat and turned properly to face him, "Excuse me?"

"Stop whining. They can't hold you here for long without evidence, anyway," his voice was gravelly like he just woke up from a nap. 

"They shouldn't hold me here at all because I didn't do anything," you glared at the inspector as you spoke, taking care to be extra loud during the latter part. 

The man chuckled under his breath and you could feel something turn in your stomach. The laughter felt condescending and it made the flutter in your stomach turn into annoyance. 

"What? What's so funny?"

You watched him raise his cuffed hands as much as he could and stretch with a yawn. It was very disappointing that such a sight turned out to be an asshole. You waited for him to put words to his condescension so you could do something about the growing anger in you. 

But when he finally opened his eyes, he didn't spare you a glance. He tapped on the desk before him and the inspector on the other side sighed and gave him a look. You almost screamed out loud when the man was uncuffed with a nod and a grim, "Don't get caught again."

"Wait what? Excuse me? Hello?"

You tapped on the desk before you too. It has to be a magic key or something to be let go because how was the man just uncuffed without any exchanges? 

The old inspector before you sighed and finally looked at you with a sudden urgency. You took it as your chance and began explaining, "Sir, I was just on the scene and I saw the guy bloodied and-"

"Do you know how to open an Instagram account?"

—

You have lived in the LBs since forever. When your parents were alive it was the upper LBs. After their passing, working all these part time jobs, your residence changed to worse. But never have you ever been handcuffed with a criminal charge. You had no idea how people got out of situations like this but from the movies and the dramas, it had to be networking. But you had no networks. You knew no one. Even then, you had just walked out of a police station as a free woman after you opened a fake Instagram account for the investigator. 

"Are you sure?" You had asked. 

"Go on," the investigator nodded, going back to scrolling reels on his phone in an obnoxiously loud volume. 

You had thought for a minute that maybe this would come back to bite you in the ass later but then you remembered how that man had walked free just like that. 

So there you were, exiting the damp air of the police station, with an ominous feeling lingering in your guts. 

"Gave him a blowjob?"

It was the same guy who had walked out a while before you. His wavy hair fell on his face as he leaned against the wall. They looked so soft and luminous and for a moment, you even thought he almost looked familiar. But your thoughts abruptly halted when you finally processed what he just said to you. 

"Why? Is that what you do to get out?"

He laughed. He laughed so hard that his whole body shook with each fit of it. You had no idea why it made you feel proud of your comeback. Your smugness urged a smirk on your lips too. 

"You win this time," his laughter slowly came reduced to a smile that felt awfully gentle. It made you feel weird so you begged your head to focus on something else. 

"I always do," you almost never but he doesn't need to know that. 

He nodded, finally standing up to his full height to face you. He was taller, you noticed, only slightly though. You didn't like the way he looked at you. It wasn't condescension. It wasn't violating. It just felt like he was looking at you, really looking. It had been ages since you felt seen and not an unnoticed spec of dust in the grand scheme of things. 

So when he extended a hand filled with bruises and busted knuckles, you took it. That's how you came to know him although that exhausting afternoon, you had no idea what was to come. 

—

August '27

Although you walked out of the police station together, cursed the government together and parted ways abruptly when you couldn't find your phone, you regretted not getting his name. You had sprinted back to the police station and he said you'd probably see him around. Since that day, you neither found your phone nor him in the streets. 

In the days after, your life remained exactly the same. Till evenings you'd toil the market in front of your building. On some days, you worked in the diner beside your building and on others, as assistants to the vendors in front of it. It was enough to barely get by. It was enough. 

"Sang-ho has brought in so many men today. Are you sure you want to be here today?"

You shrugged at Hee-jin. She permanently worked at the diner and didn't find your existence disgusting. You weren't friends, you supposed, both of you tolerated each other. 

"Rumor has it that he has brought in billions. He probably got a new deal. But with all the men he has called, there might be problems. I hope we don't get raided," Hee-jin placed the last dish in the sink just as you finished tying your apron. 

But your interest was caught. Sang-ho was a regular at the diner but Hee-jin insisted that he was only regular on the day that you were working. He didn't bother you nor did he ever speak to you. You couldn't say the same about his men. You almost stopped coming to the diner after one of them had been extra touchy-feely while asking for chopsticks. But the pay was good and beggars couldn''t be choosers. 

"Even if they get raided, what is it to us? With all that money, I doubt they pay rent every month," sharing a laugh with Hee-jin, you stretched your shoulders. You had a feeling that it was going to be a long day. 

The day turned out to be slower than usual. Sang-ho's men occasionally went up and down the stairs but they didn't stop to eat. It was exceptionally hot for a day in August. Once in a while you'd spot Hee-jin standing in front of the fan and scurry when your eyes awkwardly met. You wouldn't tell on her. She wouldn't trust you and well, neither would you. 

Once there were enough dishes that you could see the pile from the counters, you'd start washing again, you decided. It wouldn't hurt to sit near the cool air once in a while. The kitchen was so humid that you could feel sweat trickling inside your bra and as much as you wanted to scratch the itch, you stayed still. 

There was a couple sitting exactly in your line of vision. They were talking softly, giggling periodically. It was annoying how long the guy was stirring the soup with his chopsticks. The red of the chopsticks went round and round. You realised you were zoned out staring at someone's food but you didn't have it in yourself to care about it. 

The sound of murmuring and hustle bustle from the market was growing louder, you observed at one point, until all of a sudden it went quiet. That's when your eyes returned to focus, falling on the familiar figure that was now entering the diner like he owned the place. His eyes met yours once, not even wandering, like he knew exactly where you would be. Before you could react, he was taking the red chopsticks you were staring so keenly at and running up the stairs. 

Havoc was being wrecked upstairs while people downstairs pretended that it was alright. You would too, generally. Turf wars have grown to be a frequent sight and even if Sang-ho was being raided upstairs, you never cared. But it was different the moment he entered. It was different that out of all those shouts and groans upstairs, one voice could be his. 

You despised people in horror movies who would venture into the darkness just to feed their curiosity but there you were, ignoring Hee-jin's wide eyed glare and the silence of the stilled cutleries as you walked up the stairs. 

There were men still fighting when you reached the top stair. The first body lying still in the corridor was that of a man; chopsticks sticking out of his eyes and you almost threw up right there. But the man was familiar and so were the chopsticks, both of the two that had once made you want to quit. You didn't like the blooming feeling of victory you could feel in yourself. So you gulped it down. 

As you looked forward, you could see that familiar figure sift through the bulky men trying to plough each other. Narrowly avoiding being thrown or punched, you stayed by the wall flinching when a broken glass somehow scraped past your arm. You almost missed the mop of black hair disappear into a room and sprinted to follow it except just when you were about to touch the door, a hand pulled you back by the shoulders, twisting you around and pushing you up against the wall. 

Staring you down was the man himself, breathing heavily with blood splattered on his face. He had a smile adorning his lips as he stepped closer crowding your bubble until all your eyes could see were his dark ones. You didn't even know that you wanted to see them up close this bad. His breath was mingling with yours, mixing with the stench of blood. You could smell the nicotine and something more musky you couldn't quite put a finger on. 

A cold hand gripped the base of your throat and you could feel your heart dropping at the way he lowered his face to your level. You held your breath as he stayed like that, teasingly running his eyes up and down your features before returning to your face, "You, again?"

His hand didn't move from your throat, his digits began pressing deeper to the point where your gulping made him follow the column of your throat again with his dark eyes as his smile widened. What could you say? Would he understand if you told him that your feet just brought you here, to him and now your hands wanted to reach up and your fingers wanted to entangle in his curls and- No. You probably couldn't tell him that. So you did what you did best. You lied. 

You spoke with a steady voice, "Someone called the cops, you should get what you need and escape."

"What makes you think I need something? Maybe I just came here to get in trouble, what do you know?"

His voice was deeper than you remembered consciously and the gravelly vibrations traveled to your core with the way he was pressed against you. You were already breathless with his presence when there was a crash beside your head. It was a man with a knife sticking out of his side. Your vision became blurry for a moment and by the time it returned to normal your view of the bloody man was blocked by the grinning man in front of you. Of course, to block the view like the gentleman that he was, he would have to step even closer. 

"You could have just fought with your men there then. I saw you move ahead of them like you had intention-"

Your words stuttered to a stop when he was off you in a second, taking out a small knife from heaven knows where and stabbing a man twice his size some ten times in five seconds. The man fell to the floor and he smiled back at you again, "you were saying?"

Eyes stuck on the man bleeding out on the floor, you pushed your back against the wall to not let your feet give away, "I saw you run forward as if you-"

"Uh huh?"

"As if you-"

He was laughing. You couldn't help but feel a tinge of fear; only a tinge when you should have screamed bloody murder and sprinted miles away. But at the same time you could feel the coils in your stomach tighten and something in you not wanting to leave. 

"As if what?"

"As if you need something from here. Get it done and go."

He smiled, sending you a mock salute before pushing open a heavy looking door while you stood against the wall, breathless and panting. You could hear the blood rushing to your head over the sounds of the fighting. Never in your entire life had you felt such a rollercoaster of emotions. There was something strange about him and you knew it, it was as obvious as global warming that you shouldn't play Dora the Explorer with this guy of all people. But you watched as he emerged out of the room, a big leather bag in hand. 

The corridor had become more chaotic than before. You assumed that both sides had called in more people. As you stared at the people fighting to death, you tried to process what exactly was happening. But you failed. So when a sticky hand grabbed yours and prompted you to move forward, you let it. His wavy hair bounced as he ducked random blows, spinning you around, moving you back and forth while moving forward and out of the narrow, bloodied corridor. Just before the last step before the stairs, he dropped your hand. 

You hadn't realised that you were staring at your joined hands until he let go. When your eyes traveled up to his face, it had more blood than before and his light coloured shirt was barely half of the shade it used to be. He was still smiling at you, you realised. 

"I never found you on the streets."

Your lips were moving so you knew it was you talking. But what was that weak, breathless voice? 

"Did you want to?"

He asked it so nonchalantly as if he was around and you just hadn't spotted him. 

"Yes. I mean-", you barely recognised your voice and your train of thoughts. You wondered where all your years of being tough and tactical went. 

"Then you will."

And he was gone. 

—

Sirens. Multiple cars. 12 deaths. A huge number of injured people. 

The closed diner was dark, lit up by the red and blue and echoing the haunting sirens. The police officers had stopped to ask a few questions and Hee-jin answered them all. You watched her lie through her teeth that you, who stood like a pinned doll, were too shaken up with the incident so you couldn't speak to them at all. They said they understood and gave you a look of pity. You felt nauseous. 

When you had walked downstairs and splashed water in your face a good fifteen times, the police were already there. You sent a prayer hoping he was gone far away by then and then to erase the guilt of sending such a prayer, you splashed water in your face again. Hee-jin didn't ask anything. Nobody asked or even glanced at you. It was as if you hadn't just associated yourself with someone who raided one of the biggest turfs of the LBs. Were they ignorant? Were they afraid? 

The owner of the diner appeared once in front of you two to mention in a rather bored tone that the diner would be closed the following day and left. Hee-jin looked at you strangely and left. You were thankful that she even looked at you and you left. 

When you were home and you could hear the familiar tune of old school kpop playing in the apartment right below yours, you bawled like a baby. You didn't know why. You just cried and cried until the turning of your guts stopped and you were sane enough to question yourself. There were feelings in you that had not been stirred for years and there was a tingling in the back of your heart, a craving almost. But it was a different kind of craving, the ones that made you want to have a pair of strong arms wrapped around you. You wondered where all of this was coming from. But you knew the answer. You just didn't want it to be the answer.

The steaming mug of coffee was grounding you to reality as you looked over at the night market. The night market saw two types of customers, one that bought the usual edibles up front and the other, that bought tightly sealed packets from the shadows. It was almost funny sometimes. The old lady of stall 5 got mad at anyone who tried to bargain. She was just constantly in a bad mood and while you understood and related to her, it was not nice to always hear people being shouted upon. When watching the night market became your muse, it took you all of a week to believe that the same old lady probably sold the most narcotics. Her customers in the shadows even queued to get it. 

The coffee had cooled down comparatively when you took your first sip. There was a small commotion in the market but you couldn't see it. The old lady was closed, you realised. That was very strange. It was a clear night and it almost made you forget the kind of day you had. A good night's sleep would prepare you for a tough next day and with the kind of heatwave that was shaking the city, you would need all the preparation. 

Your eyes were out of focus and you zoned in and out. The image of an intriguing pair of chocolate brown eyes flashed in the back of your mind. It was so vivid. You could see the smirk that formed on his lips and it subconsciously made you grip the cup tighter. His eyes stared at you unblinking until the smirk got bigger and he sent a wink your way. 

That's when you broke out of your trance. Groaning in disbelief, you rubbed your eyes and sighed. But when you opened them, they met the chocolate brown pools again. 

"What the-"

There he was. Not in your vision but walking in all glory out of the night market, smiling at you. In a polythene by his side, something orange swung with each step. Tangerines? 

As he took a turn and disappeared out of sight, you placed a hand on your heart, which felt like it would pop out of your throat. What had just happened? He was gone as fast as he came. You almost confirmed in your mind that he was not real. You were hallucinating and you'd have to break your savings to go see a doctor. 

As if he was hearing your thoughts, the alley where he disappeared, he walked back out of it. This time he walked straight to your building. Stumbling to reach the railings, you peered down at him. 

"What are you doing here?"

You wondered if he heard you over the noise of the market. But he was looking straight up at you. 

"Tomorrow. Lake Plaza at 5."

And again with a mock salute, he walked off. You fumbled, stuttered and almost bit your tongue in the urgency to reply but by the time you were about to utter, "What?" He was gone. 

—

He got a deal. A deal so good he liked to call it a steal deal. Four tangerines for no money. Normally he would celebrate his steal deal with some more steal deals but he was somewhat in a hurry. 

The men behind him had knives, he was sure. But he had left his own set of beautiful knives at his home. Now he had a backup tucked in his shoe but he was slightly concerned. Five grown men might pose a little trouble for a pocket knife. 

He whistled as he walked, a small smile playing on his busted lips. The way you fumbled every time you saw him but how you were ready with comebacks every time he got too comfortable, it made him curious. It made him wonder what kind of life you had lived, what kind of life you lived. There was a hollow pit in his stomach that was making him question whether you would show up where he asked you. After all, it would be a miracle if you did but for some reason, he thought you were a miracle. Something in him could tell that you were. So he wanted to push his luck. 

The men tailing him had stopped being subtle. Their footsteps were closer and peripherally he could see something shiny in the occasional lights from nearby buildings and the rarely unbroken lamp posts. 

'No,' he thought. If you were to show up, he would need his face to be unscathed. 

"Alright guys," the men abruptly stopped when he turned around to face them, their mouth open in surprise. 

He took his time cracking his neck and stretching his arms before finally nodding at them, "Let's get this over with."