Bring My Inhaler!

bring my inhaler!

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

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. 

EXCITED FOR THIS!!!!!!

schemin’ | myg (m) 01

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

warnings: boss/employee, tension, y/n inner dialogue, strong language, mentions of SA

summary: Your dream comes true when world renowned music producer and CEO of D-Town Records, Agust D, discovers you in the underground rap scene and wants to sign you to his label. It all goes well for a few months but things start to shift when Agust D offers to do something for you and you can’t stop thinking about it for weeks to come. Your boyfriend doesn’t like it one bit.

wordcount: 4k

a/n: reader has a canon age in this sawry if ur nowhere near that ! also, yoongi is referred to as ‘agust’ for the first half of the fic. itll make sense later

concept video

00 | 01 | 02

chapter 1: “i’d do anything”

7 months ago

You took a deep breath as you hopped off the stage, sweat still glistening on your skin. Your heart was still racing from the adrenaline, the freestyle battle rappers were really vicious that day and you were surprised you were able to keep up.

That might have been your best night yet. You spat out bar after bar, off the top of your head, the crowd roaring in support of you every single time.

You headed towards a backroom, eager for a moment to catch your breath and cool down.

As you entered the room and grabbed your phone out of your bag, you replied to all the messages from your boyfriend that you missed from when you were on stage while dabbing the back of your hand against your jaw in an attempt to collect some of the sweat.

The click of the door handle behind you snapped your attention away from your phone. You turned to see a man standing in the open door frame, slowly walking further into the room. Your eyes were glued to him. You didn’t know this man. How was he able to slip past security and into a backroom?

You clutched your phone tightly, ready to take action if needed. You’ve been down this road before. Either it was some weirdo who followed you for a selfie, a weirdo who wants to offer you some kind of shady deal or a weirdo that wants to sexually harass you. You eyed him intently, trying to commit his appearance to memory, just in case.

He was skinny but had broad shoulders. He wasn’t overwhelmingly tall but he wasn’t short either.

He was wearing a 3 piece black suit that you could only assume was designer and a long black leather coat on top that was tucked back at his hips because his hands were tucked into his pockets.

He had long, barely shoulder-length wavy black hair that was slicked back with one black strand hanging in front of his face.

His face… his face was gorgeous. He had sharp, intense eyes, thick brows, high cheekbones, a round nose, plump doll-like lips, you could go on forever.

You feel like you’ve somehow seen him somewhere before but you scratch that possibility, you were 100% sure you wouldn’t forget a face like that.

Oh, and he smelled so fucking good.

You caught a whiff of what seemed like pepper, lavender, patchouli, musk and a slightly woody undertone. It was fresh yet spicy and masculine. By his scent alone, you could tell he was wealthy.

You frowned at the mysterious man, wondering who this stranger was and why he had followed you into the room.

He reached for one of the rolled up towels by the table against the wall and gently threw it at you, the towel perfectly landing on your shoulder. You took it into your hand and started dabbing it into your neck to wipe some of the sweat off, trying to appear calm and collected.

The man spoke up, his voice smooth and his tone confident. “Your performance was outstanding.” His gravelly voice made your palms instantly clammy.

Your frown deepened at his words. “Thank you. Can I help you with anything or shall I call security?”

The man ignored your question and continued to stare at you. You couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable under his gaze. He was very… intense.

His energy in the room was so big and imposing, his eyes mischievous and mysterious, his features sharp and defined. He had a commanding presence and you couldn’t help but wonder who he was or what he wanted from you.

“How long have you been doing this?” he finally asked, his eyes roaming the room as if he’s interested in what this random room looks like. It’s starting to irritate you how nonchalant he is, with no regards to your curiosity of who the hell he is.

You furrowed your brows once more, still confused as to why this man was even talking to you but the energy in the room just made you obey. Something in your gut told you you wouldn’t want to piss this man off.

“Um… about 3 years,” you answered hesitantly, still wondering where this was going.

“What makes you get on that stage and do what you do?” he asked, slowly walking closer to you. You took a step back, wary of this stranger. You didn’t know what he was capable of.

You shrugged to his question. “I enjoy doing it. I can’t imagine my life without music, though, I can do without a stranger interrogating me about my passion for it.” Your tone was defiant as you held his gaze. Politely telling him he was unwelcome was your safest choice.

He’s pretty sexy, though.

Be quiet.

You internally rolled your eyes at your intrusive thoughts. It’s like having an imaginary angel and demon on your shoulders, constantly trying to keep you either rational or horny. The man continued to stare at you intently, as if trying to read your thoughts.

You couldn’t deny that there was something alluring about him, though, something that drew you in… Despite your better judgment.

“So... Can I help you?” you repeated, trying to break the tension.

The man took another step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Actually, I think I can help you,” he said. His voice was so sultry, it almost made you dizzy.

A mix of excitement, curiosity and skepticism seeped into your stomach at his words. What could this mysterious stranger possibly offer you? Harassment? Money? An audition? You’d been offered these things before and usually, you’d dismiss them in the same minute.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to hear him out, though. Your eyes watched his every move while you waited for him to continue, your hands fidgeting with your phone.

The man then pulled out his wallet. His long fingers dived in between the folds, taking out a small card. You could only assume it was a business card as he held it out to you. Your hesitation was clear but your curiosity got the better of you and you ended up taking it from him.

All of your doubts and hesitation disappeared as soon as you read the grey words on the black business card, your eyes widening in shock. “D-Town Records?” you gasped, eyes shooting up to look into his but his attention was on closing his wallet. “As in the record label founded by producer Agust D?” you asked, the curiosity in your tone demanding an answer.

The man shoved his wallet back into his pocket, a small smile creeping on his lips at your reaction while his eyes dropped to the card in your hand. “You know who I am?”

You know who I am? Was he implying that he is Agust D?

Your eyes repeatedly flickered between the business card and the man in front of you in disbelief. You had heard of Agust D, of course – who hadn’t? But to think that he was standing in front of you, offering you ‘help’ was surreal.

Is that why he was able to get past security? Why the energy shifted as soon as he walked in? Why he looked familiar?

“Is this real?” you asked, uncertainty and irritation creeping into your voice. “Or is this some kind of sick joke?” You turn the card, holding it up to him.

The man — who had no reason to lie about being Agust D — chuckled, seemingly amused by your skepticism. “I promise it’s real, Y/N. I’ve been coming here for a few weeks and I think you have potential.”

Your eyes widened even further, the business card suddenly feeling like it was burning a hole in your hand.

Agust D knew your name?

Agust D thought you had potential?

Agust D had been watching you for weeks?

All of this information made you feel like he just cracked your skull open and peered inside. “I... I’m sorry. I’m at a loss for words, I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” Agust D shrugged, his eyes lingering on the business card in your hand. “You’re very talented, I’m sure you get plenty of offers. You can give me a call when you have an answer ready.” He turned to leave the room, the door still open behind him.

Sure, you got offers but never of this magnitude. The man in front of you was a Grammy-winning musician, a force to be reckoned with, a legend in the making, despite rarely showing his face in public.

Your mind raced as you watched him go. You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and the thought of working for one of the most famous producers and CEOs in the world was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Wait!” you quickly called out, your voice shaking slightly. You internally cursed at your impulsivity. You didn’t even know what you were going to say.

He turned to look at you right before he could step into the hallway, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I do,” you said, your voice firmer now. You weren't even sure what you meant by that. “I mean, I want it. I want to work for you. It’d be an honor,” you ramble.

He stared at you idly, his eyes searching something in yours for a moment before nodding slowly. The determination in your eyes was all he needed to know.

He slowly nodded. “Okay. Come by D-Town Records someday next week for a talk. The address is on the back of the card.” With that, Agust D turned and left the room.

You were left alone with a thousand unanswered questions bombarding your mind.

•••

Agust D had always been secretive, rarely ever showing his face anywhere. He didn’t go to award shows, he didn’t go on talk shows, he didn’t do interviews, he was never in his own music videos.

It’s not like he went out of his way to hide his identity but he wasn’t prancing it around either. There are probably pictures of him only that you can find if you were to look it up, but you never bothered to. All you cared about was him being a musical genius, his face didn’t matter much.

You wouldn’t have thought that if you knew that’s what he looked like.

After meeting the Agust D, you had quickly googled some info about him but not much showed up aside from his record label, a few blurry pictures – that do prove that the mysterious man was, in fact, Agust D – and the fact that he was 30 years old.

So when he approached you, it’s safe to say you were confused. It wasn’t until he handed his business card that you realized who you were dealing with. What you were dealing with.

He’d complimented your skills and offered you to come by his record label to have a talk. You still couldn’t believe it happened.

That night, your world turned upside down.

The following day, you had called the phone number on the business card and asked when would be a good time for you to come by the record label.

The following week, you found yourself sitting in the entrance hall of D-Town Records for what felt like hours, your leg bouncing up and down in anxiety as you waited for someone to tell you where to go.

You had arrived 34 minutes early to your appointment. You still couldn’t believe it. You had never been in a music studio this big before, and the grandeur of it all was almost overwhelming.

As you sat there, fidgeting with your hands and looking at the clock every 30 seconds, a tall, slender, dark skinned woman in a white blouse, black pencil skirt and long braided hair suddenly appeared in front of you.

The woman looked down at her clipboard and checked her notes. “Y/N, right? Sir Agust D is ready to see you. You may follow me.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You stood up quickly, grabbing your purse and tucking your phone away after putting it on silent, and followed the woman into the elevator. You adjusted your blazer, stroked your edges down into place and pressed your lips together in an attempt to blend more of your lip gloss together.

As you walked through the halls, you couldn’t help but look around in awe at the music studio. The walls were lined with gold and platinum records, and you could hear the faint sound of music coming from various recording studios you passed.

Finally, you arrived at the end of the corridor, a big blurry glass door that had the words “GENIUS LAB” engraved on it. You stared at it with your mouth agape but you closed it as soon as the woman turned to you.

“Here it is. Don’t make him wait,” the woman said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes before walking away.

You took a deep breath and reached for the door handle, the metal feeling like an icicle under your clammy hand. “Lord, stand by me,” you whispered to yourself before knocking. After a few moments of no response, you realized he couldn’t exactly hear you because of the music that was booming inside. You took another deep breath and pushed the door open.

The first thing that caught your attention was the large glass recording booth on the side. It’s walls were clad in black soundproof padding and a silver microphone hung from the ceiling. You already imagined yourself standing inside it, spitting your lyrics into the microphone.

You then turned your attention to the mix console, where Agust D was sitting, his back turned to you.

He was wearing a white shirt and a black blazer with slacks and black shoes. His long black hair was styled perfectly, with his fringe swooped over his forehead and the other side tucked behind his ear.

“Goodmorning,” you said, hoping to catch his attention.

You had never been self-conscious about your voice, of course not, you use your voice for a living. But if you could shoot yourself in the mouth for sounding the way you did right now, you would.

As he turned around in his chair to look at you, he held his hand out to the couch that was against the wall to his left behind a coffee table, motioning for you to sit down as he quickly wrapped up what he was doing on his computer. “Y/N, come on in.”

You closed the door behind you and walked in. You shimmied your knees between the coffee table and the couch before sitting down on the leather sofa, placing your purse next to your hip.

You took another deep breath, hoping it would help you calm your nerves. You really didn’t want to mess up this opportunity, and you were determined to show Agust D that you had what it takes to make it in the music industry.

Your stomach clenched in a way that you could only describe as excitement when you think about how you never told him your name but he knew it.

He wasn’t lying when he said he’d been watching you for weeks. You can’t believe he remembered your name, probably from when the other battle rappers would mention it or when the host would introduce you.

You wondered if he was ever waiting for the host to specifically announce your arrival to the stage.

Agust rolled over in his chair, stopping across from you at the opposite side of the coffee table, right across from you.

He still smelled so fucking good.

He leaned back in his chair and watched you intently, taking in your every move. His thighs were spread wide apart and his elbows were resting on the armrests. You almost winced under his gaze but tried to maintain eye contact.

So damn sexy.

Behave, will you?

You ignored your thoughts the moment his voice boomed in your ears, “How have you been since we met?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I’ve been well. Aside from the never-ending anxiety,” you replied with a nervous checkle, a bit too honestly.

He chuckled, fingers softly drumming against the armrests of his chair. “I get it. It must have been so out of the blue.”

You shrugged, looking around the room, hoping to appear casual. “I still can’t really believe it. I keep staring at the business card to make sure I’m even in the right place.”

He rubbed his smooth chin as he continued to stare at you. “Do you mind if I ask you a few more questions?”

You shook your head. Anything to get out of this awkwardness of not knowing what to say to him. Besides, he already interrogated you that day last week without your permission. What else could he ask? “Shoot.”

He suddenly leaned forward and asked, “How old are you?”

You were taken aback by the question and the sudden proximity but quickly composed yourself. “I just turned 25,” you replied almost instantly. There was still a coffee table separating you two but still, having him closer than ever before made your head spin.

He leaned back in the chair, slowly nodding to your answer and crossing his arms over his chest. His thighs were still wide apart and he adjusted his hips in the seat, cocking his head to the side. Sexy bastard. “How long have you been doing music?”

You thought about his question for a moment. “Maybe a decade now? I’ve only been battle rapping for 3 years, though,” you said, letting him know you weren’t lying to him the other night.

“Do you only rap?”

You shook your head. “I rap, I sing, I produce, I write, I compose.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. Your eagerness to impress him seemed pleasant to him.

He scratched behind his ear and slowly nodded. “Where do you live? Does it take you a long time to get here?”

You shook your head, it took about 40 minutes to get there. You didn’t mind driving that distance everyday to make your dream come true.

Agust hummed. You thought about how this was the first time you didn’t give a descriptive answer, leaving you to wonder whether he was thinking about the same thing.

His black eyes were still on you, like he was trying to burn holes in your skull. You cleared your throat and looked away for a moment before returning the eye contact.

You took another deep breath, gathering your courage before finally speaking up. “And even if it did take long… I’d do anything,” you told him, your voice full of determination.

The faint curl on the corners of his mouth didn’t go unnoticed by you. He raised an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued by your answer. “Anything?” he repeated, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Why did he sound so amused? You tried to stop yourself from thinking too deep into it. “Yes, anything. This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Agust studied you for a moment longer before letting out a quick exhale that you could only describe as a quiet chuckle. “I love your determination,” he said in admiration.

Your cheeks flushed with heat but you couldn’t help the swell of pride in your chest.

You’ve always been somewhat determined about things in your life, but this...this was different. This was your dream, and you were willing to do whatever it took to make it a reality.

“I don’t think you understand what this means to me,” you said quietly, hearing him scoff in response. Fuck. You probably shouldn’t have said that.

Agust leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Trust me, I do,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “Every artist you know has struggled to get where they are. Every artist would kill for an opportunity like this. Younger me included.”

You looked down at the coffee table that separated you, regret rushing into your stomach. You knew that. Of course you knew that.

He rolled to his desk, then rolled back with a bundle of papers in his hand. He placed them down in front of you and leaned back in his chair. “Final question,” he began, “Where do you want to be in 10 years?”

This made you frown. You hadn’t expected Agust D of all people to ask such a generic job interview question. You understand where he’s coming from, though.

This question being asked for a retail job or flipping burgers in the back of a greasy kitchen was stupid, but in terms of someone’s lifelong dream, it could give you a taste of what they really strive to be.

Ten years was a long time and anything could happen in that time. But one thing was certain: you wanted to share your craft with the world and leave your stain on this Earth.

After a few moments of quiet thinking, you leaned forward, his eyes watching you in anticipation. “I wanna be on that side of the table,” you said, pointing at Agust.

His eyes narrowed at you and it somehow made him even more intimidating. His head tilted slightly at the answer and he broke eye contact with you for the first time.

He looked down at the table, seemingly in deep thought. Anxiety started burning in the pit of your stomach. Did you say something wrong?

Then, he simply chuckled. “Well,” he began, shaking his head and tucking some of the loose hair behind his ear. “I must admit, that answer caught me off guard.”

You stayed quiet, watching him with big eyes. You caught him off guard? What did that even mean in this context?

“I’ve been asking various people that question for years,” he said after a moment of silence.

“The answer is usually the same. Something along the lines of ‘I want to sell millions of records’, ‘I want to win awards and get #1s’ or ‘I want to perform in front of thousands of people singing my songs’. But… I’ve never received an answer quite like yours.”

You swallowed, suddenly self-conscious. “Is that a good or bad thing?” you asked, your fingertips picking at the loose skin around your nails.

Agust shook his head, flicking through the bundle of papers in his hands as his eyes lingered on the pages. “Good,” he muttered, definitively. “Unless you meant you want to steal my company from me,” he added, peering up at you through his brows as he didn’t move his head from when he tilted it down to read through the contract.

You were sure he meant it as a joke but his raised eyebrow and the serious expression on his face wiped away any need to laugh in your body.

You quickly shook your head in panic.

“No, no. I want to love music like you. I want to be successful like you. I want to help bring other people’s dreams come true like you. I want to have a company one day that bends to my will,” you quickly reassured him, “like you.”

You could have sworn his lips twitched for a split second, as if he was trying to hide a smile. His eyes narrowed at you again and he parted his lips, his tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth.

He looked surprised by your answer once again, to say the least. But he doesn’t admit it this time. He just stares at you with that same damn stoicism.

A few moments of silence passed.

Then, he held out the neat bundle of papers to you, his eyes fixed on you. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time. You can take this home. I suggest you take your time readi–”

This was it, the moment you had been waiting for, for well over a decade.

You snatched the papers from his hands before he could even finish talking. You quickly flipped through the pages, scanning the legal jargon and the terms of the contract, but not paying any attention to them. Your eyes kept searching until you found the empty box in which you should sign.

You picked up the pen that was on the table next to the papers. You put the pen in your mouth, your eyes glancing into his as you removed the cap with your teeth.

Agust narrowed his eyes at you once again for a split second, his gaze dropping down to your lips. You wished you could tell what he was thinking. You ignored the hopes that he might’ve found it hot.

You scribbled your signature right under your name. You felt a thrill of adrenaline as your hand moved across the paper, as if you were signing a pact with destiny.

As you threw the signed papers back onto the table, you couldn’t help but notice the smug look on his face.

A small smile came to Agust’s lips as he stared at your signature. He looked like he was once again caught off guard, this time by your impulsiveness. He probably couldn’t believe you weren’t even going to read through the contract, or ask for clarification on any of the clauses.

You’ve made it clear that this is what you’ve wanted, though. He shouldn’t be surprised. Like you said, you were willing to do anything.

You were both aware of what you just did. You didn’t just sign a contract. You were taking a massive risk. There were no guarantees in the music industry and the road ahead was going to be bumpy and unpredictable but you had clearly made your choice.

He stood up and held his hand out to you. You quickly raised to your feet, placing your own clammy hand into his.

“Welcome to D-Town Records, Y/N.”

@wobblewobble822 @pinklemonsstuff @jwnghyuns @dragonxinia @taegicity @agustdsslutt @missroro @p34rluv @nonconformingwannabelover @acquiescence804 @glosstwn @srg-yg @samymxt @namgiswifey @sugainmybowl @rirushu @irishchic36 @louwhoelse @annasprl @joonwater

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!”

im a sucker for mafia yoongi!! but again who isn't?

corrupted | myg

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; what's worse than living in a fucked up and corrupted world?

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yoongi x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mafia au, angst (?)

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, misogyny, no feminism here, everything is fucked up here (hence the title lol)

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k+

While the world's riots and country has been unsettled for a while now, rotten and violated by local gangs, it is not the most unsettling part though. Citizens say it is controlled by someone of a higher and more dangerous status. Someone whose people always lurk in the shadows, doing dirty business. One, many people don’t know any details of.

You being one of them.

Being just another person who has been forced into living in today’s world, not that anyone had a choice, there is not much knowledge. People talk, they gossip and jump into conclusions. It’s hard to say what’s true or not. So naturally, they speculate and it’s always something harsh and scary.

After all, that’s how it works now.

Unless you’re not a part of one of the gangs, earning your rightful place there and doing all the dirty work of all kinds, you’re just a basic human trying to survive and not get into any trouble.

People work where they can. Just enough to earn money and buy themselves food, somewhere they can live and stay. The amount of homeless people who steal has rapidly increased since the government is gone. Everything is corrupted. Empty. Without life. Just darkness and fear.

There were times when the world has progressed.

Not for women, it is hard to find yourself a good living. Unless you don’t want to be a part of any brothel that’s almost at every corner. People are desperate. Some women love to do it, perhaps they feel powerful that way. Some are not there because they want to be. They use their bodies to bring food and a proper living either to themselves, or to their families.

It’s one of the things you refuse to do. As anyone could imagine, it’s not the cleanest and safest work. One you really refuse to succumb to.

But enough to go out, praying no harm will come to you during your time out of the comfort of the rented small and old apartment that you're staying in.

Clubs and bars are no safer than what is outside, right behind every wall and door. You still consider it as a better alternative of how you could earn enough money to cover your rent and bring food for yourself.

Some women, actually a good part of them, latch themselves to a gang man. It is one of the choices that secures you at least some kind of protection, money, food and roof under your head. They’re known to have more money and security. You see a member of a gang? You run. You don’t indulge yourself with any of them. They’re dangerous. Don’t take no for answers. Most of them.

So far, you haven’t had the chance to really talk to any of them. You avoid them at all costs.

People come out to drink and have fun, even if they know that if someone just got killed at this very moment, only few would react. That’s how fucked up this world is.

No one is truly safe. Even under the fake facade of the world being relatively at peace right now — the words of whispers saying it’s the big boss controlling the country — no one guarantees you safety. Whoever is “up there” and is not afraid to kill or do different sorts of fucked up actions, does not care about anyone’s lives. So many people lost their lives.

People you knew.

And no one cared.

Relatives can’t get any justice. Not even revenge.

A gang member kills someone you know? Someone you loved? There’s nothing you can do, unless you or someone you care about wants to be killed. It’s fucked up.

It’s almost ironic how people dance to the loud music, seeming not to care about how truly fucked up it really is. It’s almost like the world hasn’t changed, people laugh, have fun and are getting drunk. However, there is still a shadow casting upon everyone’s head, filling up every inch and corner available. Nothing is the same anymore.

You would be stupid to tell yourself anything different. Even if it was under the mask of pretending. Even if it’s for a while.

Sitting on a hardened bar stool, you shift in your spot to make yourself comfortable which is very impossible. The bar is hectic. It seems to be doing well considering the amount of people here. One of your neighbors told you they could possibly hire you. It does sound a little silly considering there are no contracts now. They either take you and you do what they say, or you can forget about any job.

As you scan your surroundings in this dim lighting, you spot someone sitting in the corner of your eyes. An empty barstool between you as that someone happens to be a man. You wouldn’t pay him that much attention, you’re just merely cautious when it comes to anyone that’s an arm length from you. He’s just sitting there, enjoying the drink that’s in front of him. It’s hard to spot any of his features, the lack of lights here make it very difficult.

You’re in your own thoughts, focusing on the sounds around you which are just loud and blasting music when suddenly the stranger stares dead in your eyes. Something clenches in your chest, a good portion of shock at the sudden eye contact as he must’ve felt you watching him. There is so much darkness that you fail to notice the tiny smirk that curls the corner of his lips.

He’s got strong features, a smaller and slightly rounder nose — at least that’s what you guess from the seconds that he stares right back at you until he turns back and focuses his eyes on his drink. He plays with a glass, long fingers wrapped around its neck as his fingertips brush ever so slightly against it.

Gulping, you look away, embarrassed that he has caught you so easily. So much for staying low…

“Hiya, cheeks. What can I get ya?”

Head snapping at the bartender who chews on his gum, you suppress the need to glare at him and his stupid nickname, you clench your jaw for a second before you allow yourself to relax.

“Soda will do.” You almost wave him off, oblivious to the deadpanned look you so easily earn in return as soon as you look away from him, not paying him any more attention or eye contact.

That’s until he laughs, rubbing his nose. “Soda? That’s what you fucking order when you’re in this bar?”

Startled at the attitude and obvious mockery, you frown. “I’m not here to get drunk. I’m here on business.” you justify, even though you don’t feel like you have to at all.

But to avoid any more reaction or attention from this dumb fuck, you have to keep it casual. You don’t want to draw any more attention. Fucking hell, you’re the most clothed woman in here. You already do draw enough attention for people to think you’re weird or sketchy. The truth is, not many people have seemed to notice you and you would prefer it that way. Knowing it’s just wishful thinking, you gulp down any insult that wants to come out.

“Ah, got it.” He nods and for a split second, you sigh in relief. But then the dumb fuck has to open his mouth again. “Perhaps you would find the time for me after I clock off here too.”

He smirks, walking away too quickly for you to even react. Your mouth opens agape, knowing what he thinks of you and what he initiated. He thinks you’re a hooker. Well, they’re known for drinking and taking drugs. On rare occasions, there are some who don’t do any of this. Their clients prefer them to be not under any influence. But again, it’s just what you’ve heard and learned to know from a third party.

It’s the deep chuckle beside you that makes you snap out of your offended state. There’s no one beside the man, he’s smirking at his drink and undoubtedly, he’s heard the entire exchange between you and the shitty bartender. It’s the audacity of him that he laughs at that, clearly mocking you just like the bartender did if not even more. He hasn’t been even a part of that ridiculous conversation.

And before you know it, your ego and irritation gets the best out of you. “What?”

You say loud enough for him to hear. You know he does but he still reacts as if he doesn’t hear you. He’s smirking at his glass, tapping his fingers on it a few times. Enough for you to notice the rings on his fingers. It’s like an alarm ringing in your head but it’s already gone by the time he suddenly and slowly looks up. He slowly turns his head, giving you a look with a raised brow. Almost as if he’s questioning if you were talking to him.

And despite the little nervousness inside you, you keep your ground and still stare at him. Even have the audacity to raise your brow at him, making it clear you’re talking to him. The corner of his mouth twitches.

“Not a hooker, huh?”

Is he trying to be funny?

Narrowing your eyes, you hide your clenched fists in your lap. “What? You were interested?”

Oh fuck. Where is this boldness coming from? What the fuck are you doing?! You’re usually careful of how you speak to others. What if he’s a gang member and he’ll pull out his gun and shoot your brains out? No one would bat an eyelash here if that really happened. They would just be annoyed they have to clean your remains. God, the thought of that makes you almost gag.

He breathes out what sounds like a chuckle, it’s hard to tell because it’s too silent for this loud surroundings. “What a girl like you is doing here?” he asks instead.

A girl. Did he just call you a girl?

You’re sure it has something to do with your appearance and a choice of clothing, but the fact he hasn’t referred to you as a woman bothers you. Not that women mean something in this world anyway. Sad to say but for most men and parts, they’re good for sex and that’s about it. It’s a rotten world.

Women barely get any respect.

This time, you use your brain in a better way and settle upon honest and casual information, which you shouldn’t exactly share to a mere stranger. But what harm could it do? It’s not like you just shared your name or any personal information that could tell him your identity. For him, you’re just another… girl in this bar. Perhaps he thinks you’re strange to come here, not drinking and wearing the shortest dress you own. You don’t even do that anymore.

You can’t remember the last time you wore a dress. You choose not to, not wanting to catch an unwanted pair of eyes and attention which is brutally sad and upsetting.

“I’m looking for a job.”

“Here?” he chuckles humorously almost immediately.

You frown, “What’s wrong about here?”

“Why here out of all places?” he questions instead.

“I don’t know if you haven’t noticed, but we don’t have much choice. I gotta live somehow.”

“I suppose it’s better than visiting a brothel, no shaming though.”

“What? Because you’re a daily client there?”

He looks up again for a moment, breathing out a light chuckle once again. Are you this funny? “You don’t belong here.”

You frown in confusion this time, “And where do I belong?”

He licks his lips, reaching for his glass as he silently sips onto whatever drink he has there. The liquid is darkish brown, you would guess that’s neat whiskey right there.

“They shot the latest bartender here.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t offer any sweetness to it. “No. Just being informative.”

“You barely answer any of my questions.”

“Didn’t know it’s an obligation.”

You groan, rubbing your forehead just as the bartender brings you your alcohol free drink. Fuck. Maybe you should’ve ordered alcohol after all. You definitely might need it for this odd conversation.

“What do you do then?”

He taps his fingers against the counter, relaxed and smoothly as if he has a world in the palm of his hands. “Just here and about.”

“Hm, informative as always.” you mutter, ignoring the burning glance at the side of your face. It’s your time to sip on your drink, enjoying the lack of attention you give him.

You could imagine what kind of dirty work he does. Everyone does one in a way.

“Why are you sitting here then, when you’re looking for a job?”

You sigh, “I’m mapping out this place. I won’t show interest when something might happen here.”

“I just told you someone got killed here like a week ago. Shit happens here.”

“Shit happens everywhere. Thanks to this corrupted world and whoever is controlling it.”

It’s a silence between you for some time. Your curiosity rising up. He seems to be a regular here considering he knows about the shooting. Perhaps he could’ve heard it. You don’t ask any details about that though, settling on something much more curious. Many gossips are around and you do wonder what could he bring.

“Do you know who’s behind this?”

He stays silent, slowly turning his head to look at you again. None of you seem to be looking at each other the entire time.

“Does anyone?”

“Well, people talk. Everyone assumes it’s a man. What if it’s a woman?”

He chuckles.

“What? You think a woman is not capable of ruling the country?”

“I heard a lot of rumors but never that one.” he admits.

“What did you hear then?”

He does that thing again — the corner of his lips twitch in amusement. You don’t care about that though. For once, you actually feel nice to have a conversation. You don’t get a lot of opportunities to talk about this kind of stuff. It is dangerous to be talking about it so freely. Let alone with a stranger. But this one, you’re cautious about but he seems to be chilled out.

However, your guess of people might be wrong.

“Whoever rules it is ruthless.”

“He must be. Who’s okay with killing, violence and drugs? And I just named a very short list of them.”

“He? I thought you considered a female here.”

Popping your chin on your palm, you rest your elbow on the counter. “When you think about it, today’s all about dominance, power and money. Women mean nothing here.”

It’s the brutally honest truth.

“Besides, I don’t think a woman could be so ruthless to the point when people just kill each other.”

“You would be surprised.”

You narrow your eyes at him, not quite agreeing. Surely there could be a woman that would match up to any violent man there is. “I’m not misogynistic, so I won’t completely disagree with that. What makes me think it’s a man is a fact of how it is in here. Women are left fending for themselves and the most protection or at least the slightest feeling of power they can get, is through men.”

“Hm, that’s an… interesting observation.”

“What? You don’t agree?” you ask, snapping your head at him as he chuckles, in a low and vibrating tone.

“Nah, I think you might be onto something.”

You sigh, staring ahead. “Well, I’m just thinking out loud. I don’t get anything.”

There’s a silence between you two, the blasting music remaining in the background as a loud noise which you’re trying to block. It’s not like you’re not a fan of rap but come on, you’re about to get a headache.

The man suddenly stands, chugging the rest of his drink as if it’s nothing. No grimace, nothing. He doesn’t look drunk to the point where he could no longer feel the burn of alcohol.

“You should not work here.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and a speechless grimace makes it on your face. “Why?”

“It’s not safe.”

“Is there any safe place?”

He chuckles, scratching his eyebrow as he stays silent, giving you no proper answer.

“What’s your name?”

“Mingi.”

You frown, “You don’t look like Mingi.”

He snorts, rubbing his mouth for a quick second. “What do I look like?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble honestly. “But it’s not Mingi.”

He doesn’t disagree, he lets you think whatever you want. Again, you don’t know this man and you have no clue whether he’s lying or not. You do have a suspicion because something radiates from him, you’re just not sure what.

“And what’s your name?”

You scoff humorously, “I’m not telling you.”

There’s a breaking sound on your right side, glass breaking and a few people yelling at each other. From the looks of it, it’s two groups getting into a fight where a security tries to take care of it. There are punches thrown and you gasp at the violent image, even though it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. People fight on the streets all the time. You just hope whenever you see someone laying on the ground is a homeless person, and not a dead body.

You turn around, guessing the man is already giving you a knowing look where he warned you about this place.

However once you turn around there’s no one there.

There's an empty spot, almost like he’s been a friction of your imagination. A ghost. Someone that wasn’t even here.

But then there it is.

The empty glass he drank from.

It is enough to assure you that he was real.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH this is so gooooodddd :3

we go down together

summary: i hope you see this ♡ anon. it’s a very rough, completely unedited version of what i saw in my head while listening to ‘we go down together’ by dove cameron & khalid

pairing: yoongi x reader

wc: 648 words

warnings: violence, reference to being held at knife-point, sexual innuendo

Your fingers linger over your jewel encrusted crown, the red rubies sparkling under the dim light of your tent. You asked for privacy and your guards granted it. But your loneliness remains, aching in your chest. The people expect their warrior princess to stake a claim to the strongest warrior on the battlefield but somehow none of them can even begin to fill the void in your chest.

The whoosh of an almost soundless drop draws your attention. But you don’t turn, knowing exactly who has joined you.

“How did you get past my guards?”

Yoongi smirks, not that you can see it.

“You need better guards,” he replies, adjusting his belt. “I would offer my services, but seeing as how they’re supposed to protect you from me… I’m probably not the ideal candidate.”

You can’t help but laugh as you turn to face him. He’s dressed all in black. He pulls away his hood to reveal long black hair, matted from sweat. He pushes a wet strand from his eyes and in that moment his eye catches yours, glimmering brighter than the rubies at your side.

“You look nice,” he says nonchalantly, as if it’s the appropriate thing to say in the situation.

Your eyes fall to your body and then back to him, a sly grin now tugging at his lips.

When you don’t reply, he scratches the back of his neck, his smile turning shy to your surprise. He looks more youthful than you expected for a mercenary like him. The years of war should have excised any boyish charm he had left.

“Ok, Yoongi. Enough of the chitchat. How do you want to do this,” you ask, leaning back against the table as you size him up. “Do you want to hand yourself over to my guards like a good boy,” you continue, raising a brow, “or shall we dance?”

A hand reaches towards his sheathed sword and he steps forward.

You interject. “Close the distance and your head will roll.”

“I would like to see that.”

“What else would you like to see?” Your mouth shuts automatically. You did not intend to say that. It just kind of slipped out.

But Yoongi looks intrigued.

“If I said I would like to see you writhing beneath me, would you grant it?”

Instinctually you jump at him, shoving him against the rickety armoire, your dagger at his throat. He doesn’t look as surprised as you’d hoped.

And then you realize your mistake.

A sharp object pokes at your rib, just enough to give you a sense of how sharp it is. His thumb rests against your bare skin beside it as if readying to carve you whole like an apple.

“Ah, you’re just as feisty as I remember,” he says, smiling before he adds, “and even more impulsive.”

He expects you to back off. You can see it in his eyes. But instead you shove him harder, eliciting a grunt from him and nearly toppling the armoire behind him. His knife leaves your body for a split second and you reach for it.

In that moment, he grabs your wrist and twists you around, pulling you backwards into him. Hard.

With his knife now against your throat, you sigh in resignation. “Well played,” you say, your free hand falling to your side. “What do you want?”

He leans into your ear, humming in thought, his warm breath hitting the exposed skin on your neck. Goosebumps prickle at your skin.

“On with it,” you snipe as you try to pull away. “Don’t drag this out longer than you need to, Yoongi. My guards will be coming in any moment.”

“You’re worried for my safety, are you?”

You scoff. “Of course not. I just want this over with.”

He tsks at you, pulling you tighter. “So impatient,” he says, chuckling. “What do I want, you ask?”

“Yes,” you grunt, “what is it that you want?”

“You.”