Pov: Summertime ; A Three Tangerines Mixtape 4 Summer

— pov: summertime ; a three tangerines mixtape 4 summer 🍊

🎼 tracklist: celebration - the game // party and bullshit - the notorious b.i.g // boy’s a liar pt. 2 - pink pantheress ft. ice spice // layin’ low - hyolyn ft. jooyoung // desesperados - rauw alejandro, chencho corleone // lottery - latto ft. lu kala  // jumpin’ jumpin’ - destiny’s child // no scrubs - tlc // omg - newjeans ++ a lot more !

🎧 note: with a blend of throwbacks and current jams, this is just a fun, feel good mix for parties or hangouts :D are you gonna overhear some conversations about your secret thing?? maybe. are you gonna have the hardest time not staring at them looking like that the whole time? absolutely. enjoy straight through or on shuffleee >:)) 

📷 src: one ; two ; three

⟶ press play

cw;; fem reader, weddings, ran is such a wife guy its insane, unprotected ptv, mdni, this was so rushed sorry (0.9k words)

most people will agree that weddings are events that are pure, sacred, an act that signifies love and devotion to ones lover. and though they aren't wrong -- a part of you thinks otherwise.

fate sealed and deal done, you now are a married woman with a beautiful rock on your finger -- the very best, of course. ran haitani demands only the best for his beloved, he won't settle for any less than perfect.

fitted in a pretty, white, flowy gown, dolled up so that you could almost be mistaken for a princess, you look like the definition of beauty.

what do they say about brides wearing white on weddings again? oh, right, they were to show pureness, virtue, and innocence.

you disagree.

-- because the way your husband is fucking you right now is nowhere near innocent or pure.

"fuck! fuck--! ran, oh, yes-!"

"fucking hell, baby," your husband groans into your ear, lips grazing over the sensitive skin of your jaw, "'driving me insane."

his wandering hands touch and grope all over you, shamelessly squeezing at your tits through the fabric of your wedding dress that's been hiked up over your hips.

"you're, you're being too loud, ran," you gasp, mouth forming a silent 'o' at the way the tip of his cock repeatedly rubs deliciously against that one spongey spot inside you over and over.

what can you say? your husband knows you too well. body and soul.

he laughs breathily, "this pussy's g'nna kill me one day, i swear,"

impatient as he can be, ran could not wait any longer after your vows and ring exchange. he whisked you away with a hand interlocked with yours, pulling you down hallways and rooms to escape family and guests at the wedding -- just too damn impatient and needing to be alone with you.

impatient, and horny.

now bent over a table in some random cramped room, your husband fucks into your tight pussy like he's never going to get a chance to fuck you ever again. he didn't even bother dropping his slacks all the way, just needing to whip his dick out as soon as he could.

with your gown and veil flipped over your hips, the front of his thighs slap against the back of yours, the skin burning pink and red, drowning out the dirty squelches of your sloppy pussy.

"oh, ran! fuck, fuck, keep doing that, right there--!"

pain blooms satisfyingly, and the way his heavy balls slap against your clit every time he thrusts deep into you has you rolling your eyes and throwing your head back.

he groans, way too loud and not thinking of how anyone passing by can hear everything going on inside this room, "yeah? right there? don' need to tell me, baby, i know."

his breath sends shivers down your spine, little tingles lighting up nerve endings and adding to the ever-growing stimulation. his husky voice makes you squeeze uncontrollably around his dick, pulsing and spasming.

"what? you like that?" he teases, voice low as he thrusts up even harder, gripping your hips tighter so he can force them down to his own, "y'like when i'm fucking you like this, hard and fast?"

"yes, yes! so good, so good," you whine.

the fact that anyone could walk in on the two of you anytime pumps adrenaline all through your body, it makes everything ten times more intense than it is. you could drown in the way ran fucks you so good, perfectly even -- and you relish in the way every thrust brings both pain and pleasure.

"ahh, fuck, if you keep squeezin' me like this, you'll make me cum, princess."

your hands scramble behind you for any stability, trying your best to grab him for any support, but his hips thrust too hard, too harsh, you can barely keep yourself up on your toes at this point.

"ran, ran, ran--!" you babble and squeal as soon as you feel two of his fingers slide over your swollen bud, flicking it and rubbing directly over it.

"c'mon, cum all over this fuckin' dick," he groans, pressing wet kisses all over your jaw and neck, licking away the drops of sweat that gather there. "soak my cock."

and, oh, you do.

ran feels you drench him in slick, pussy so wet he thinks he could drown in it. you tighten impossibly around him, and for a slight second he thinks you might push him right out of you.

all this time, he never stops fucking back into you, determined to prolong your high, to hear you whine and cry even more than you are right now.

you'd be one lucky bride if your makeup isn't melting down your face.

"ahh, yeah, shit, shit," he croaks, eyes tight and face screwed up in pleasure.

ran pulls out abruptly as soon as you come down from your high, slipping out of your wet cunt only so he can blow his entire load all over your veil. coating the lacy material in spurts of his hot cum.

"r-ran! what the fuck!" you squeal, face turned to look back at him in shock.

he groans shamelessly, hand working over his dick to make sure every last drop is out, only then does he slump over you with a stupid smile on his face.

"jus' needed to mark my territory." he says, face tucked into your neck. "what?"

you furrow your brows. "what do you mean 'what?' are you serious right now?!"

he doesn't even look sorry. "hell yeah. 'so hot knowing my cum is on my wife's veil."

"you're disgusting."

"i know."

"you're getting me a new one." you demand.

"anything my wife wants, she gets."

---

IM SO SORRY FOR THE LAST PART ASJDBAKBD thank you for reading!!1

driving instructor!nanami who knows as soon as you step into his car, that you’re going to fail.

with your hot pink acrylics that click, clack against the wheel, your mini skirt that just about covers the round of your ass and the see-through mesh top you hone that you wear absolutely no solid material underneath. with driving instructor!nanami knows he shouldn’t look but he can’t help his eyes that glance towards your perked nipples that are clearly begging for attention.

and the thing is, it’s not like driving instructor!nanami wants to fail you, but he does have his doubts when you ask him if you can finish the test early because you have “a more important function to attend to.”

But alas, driving instructor!nanami let’s you take your test. and despite his misconception, you’re not a bad driver. you end the course with no major faults but you just about have one-too-many minors and sadly he has to fail you.

“what?! only one minor over the threshold?!”

your glossed pout is adorable and driving instructor!nanami hates that you look you’re about to cry — especially since he’s the one who’s caused your sadness.

but its when you ask if there’s really nothing you could do then and there to make things right or fix the mishap, that driving instructor!nanami suddenly has a change of heart and mentions how maybe there is something you could do to maybe fix it.

driving instructor!nanami is absolutely mesmerised by how your breast bounce in his face, your pathetic little whines of “i can’t do it, i can’t, i can’t!” as you struggle to ride his heavy cock in the back seat.

he bunches your now pleatless skirt in his hands as he grasps at the fat of your ass, swishing his fingers inside your puckered hole as he chants back “yes you can” with the utmost lack of remorse.

the double penetration is so overstimulating that you squirt a messy spray of wet juice all over driving instructor!nanami’s dick, his tan coloured trousers and back car seat darkening in colour. driving instructor!nanami moans loudly into your ears as he pulls out and cums just over your moist pussy lips. he makes sure to tap the head of his cock over the steady stream of liquid that pours from your sex.

“you think im gonna let you pass after you just spoilt my car?”

you whimper at his sign of possible denial of passing, your mind still hazy from your shocking orgasm. on impulse, your hand comes down to languidly stroke at driving instructor!nanami’s dick. as if it wasn’t wet enough from both of your cums, you swaddle a bout of saliva in your mouth before dribbling it down over his curved and semi hard cock.

as a string of spit still dangles from your chin and lips, you give driving instructor!nanami a teary eyed yet manipulative look.

“please.” you whisper.

it’s safe to say that on that day, you gained your driver’s licence.

Hiii!!! Can I request a girlfriend Rindou reader, where Tenjiku doesn't even know he has a girlfriend like Ran doesn't even know, and so she meets Tenjiku, and she can fight really really good and she's like PRETTY PRETTY and like how...? Did RINDOU EVEN GET HER? And she stars to catch other members eyes ;)

ᥫ᭡ for haitani rindou and tenjiku, WAREHOUSE ROMCOM.

in which you insist on meeting your boyfriend's current gang and fuck, you definitely just knocked out one of their captains.

𔘓 it's my first time writing for some of these guys so i'm sorry if they're ooc D: you used she/her and mentioned girlfriend so i'll be using those for this fic :] around 3.1k words of chaos.

“rin, how come i’ve never met any of your friends?” 

the timing doesn’t allow for a deep conversation. rindou’s too busy messing with his laptop, one earbud immersing him in whatever program was running. meanwhile, a catalog resting on your lap took half your attention.

as expected, the question is around the fifth priority in rindou’s head. “buncha smelly thugs, you wouldn’t like ‘em.”

“and you’re not in that demographic?” you idly munch on some snacks you scavenged from his pantry. 

“no, i’m not.” rindou scoffs like you just spat on his entire bloodline. “i’m your handsome boyfriend who you love very, very much.”

oh, this sweater has a really nice discount. “what about your brother? i've never seen him either, i’m starting to think you’re actually an only child.”

he’s gonna pretend like his comment going ignored didn’t sting a little. 

“you should be grateful, once you meet ran you’ll be cursed with a killer headache for the rest of your life.”

somehow it doesn’t seem as bad, nor does it deter you in the slightest. whine all he wants, rindou loves his brother. he knows it, and so do you.

“rinnie.” a vein could very well pop out his head at the dumb nickname. “are you embarrassed of me?”

(you know rindou would kiss the floor you walk on. still? good leverage).

his typing halts, left earbud joining the right to hang around his neck. a thousand times of the same coercion tactics should have prepared him better. should have. be as it may, rindou’s heartbeat stops for a minute.

you’re the one good thing he’s got going on, why would he ne embarrassed of you? no, never, he loves you too much.

not like he’d willingly admit to it, though. “a little” his typing resumes, this time a little more attentive to the situation. safety measures and all that.

seems he’s not budging. the playful banter turns into a bitter taste in your mouth. “rude.”

rindou doesn’t like your sudden silence. it cuts at his facade like the dullest of knives—painfully slow.

he can’t win against you. if there's one more thing he hates more than sweaty gym equipment is getting on your bad side.

“i’m not embarrassed, you’re just too pretty for them.” it’s not a lie.

“flattery won’t save you from sleeping on the couch.”

he’s in his own home, it's his couch and bed. “if i take you to meet them once,” rindou emphasizes the word, “will you be pleased?”

you would, “a little.”

works for him.

rindou groans like the sore loser he is, yet hands you an earbud. “whatever, don’t come cryin’  when you realize they're actually lame."

secretly, he prays you don't like them better than him.

"they're your friends—or gang, i'm guessing—i would never think bad of them."

aren't you just a godsend? rindou breathes a chuckle, pressing play. whatever wrinkles remained on his face washed away when you bobbed your head to his mix. he forgives you for being a pain in his ass.

everything’s fair in love and war; you came and conquered with ease. as implicit as he fights to keep it, rindou's a big softie for you.

you lean over to kiss his temple, maybe you’ll buy that sweater you saw for this special occasion.

just this once, punctuality would be the death of you.

the only street light a couple meters away flickers every two minutes, you’ve got no service, and the run-down warehouse you’re leaning on is the shadiest spot rindou’s asked you to meet at. seriously, what’s his issue?

“little late for someone like you to be out alone, isn’t it?” couldn’t have said it better, voice you've never heard before.

..wait.

with a gulp, you turn to meet whoever was talking to you. it’s not the least comforting when you have to look up to see his face. tall, weird eyebrows, and overall menacing.

for once in your goddamn life, think!

“yeah—i mean, it must suck to be alone in the dead of night.” you laugh nervously, as if to quell the goosebumps rising in your arms. “not me though, nope.”

mochi squints his eyes. you can’t be serious, right? there’s no one else in the entire block. “‘s that so?”

one gulp to hush your anxiety. “yup, my boyfriend’s waiting for me, if i don’t show he’ll come looking,” great, now you’re shaking. 

he’s not gonna buy it. this is the end, death by two hands the size of your head. truly tragic.

“only a shitty boyfriend would leave you all alone like this,” he huffs. it’s true, part of him wants to wait and chew out whoever this man is. 

safe to say, you have to agree. rindou is a dead man as soon as he shows his face, and it won’t be at the hands of this monster of a guy.

blame it on your current hyperfocus on every little thing (something’s gotta make up for your obvious lack of fight or flight) you can’t help but notice he’s wearing all red—is that a gang uniform?

funny how hope goes out as quick as that.

rindou’s uniform is most definitely not red. the fight bound to unleash is already brewing inside your mind, you’re not even sure if rindou can take a hit from this guy. if he ever gets here, only one of these two would walk away. 

you have to act, fast.

“it’s not safe, what’s a thing like you gonna do if—”

he makes the mistake of looking into your eyes. they’re wide, like a deer caught in headlights; innocent.

mochizuki’s second mistake is not noticing the right hook you swing.

the light flickers again, and one of tenjiku’s heavenly kings falls unconscious.

it goes without saying you fucking panic.

“i didn't mean to—shit!” you’re kneeling beside his body, checking for pulse. of course there's still a pulse, there’s no way you could actually kill a guy like that. “i’m so, so sorry.”

he didn’t even try to hurt you. are you the monster here? 

initially, you were worried rindou would be the one to start a fight if he saw you cornered by the guy. never would you have thought the culprit would be none other than yourself.

quickly, your sweater becomes a makeshift pillow—the least you could do for knocking the living daylights out of him. though you do cringe when the brand-new fabric soaks up all the dirt on the ground.

it’s okay, surely once he wakes again you can explain you didn’t mean to hit him. you were aiming for… a fly? a mosquito? those can carry deadly diseases. sure, let’s go with that.

kakucho doesn’t know what he just walked into.

there’s a stranger kneeling beside mochi whispering in a fret to herself, something about the last recorded case of dengue fever in japan. right, he was also unconscious.

soon, you notice him too. particularly his red uniform.

there’s a brief pause in which you just stare at each other.

come to think of it, you’d probably kick the bucket in these clothes, and you wouldn’t mind. dying with these on would be something you can live with—or die, rather? idioms are dumb. point is, you picked a really nice outfit for your supposed date with rindou. 

rindou haitani, who somehow managed to be late enough to miss you picking a fight with another gang member.

the silence is deadly. 

“you’re… his friend, right?” cautiously, you’re the one to break it. “i figured he'd appreciate a pillow to enjoy his nap.”

so why was his cheek painted a raging red? god, that’s a nasty bruise.

kakucho blinks twice. then, he looks around, trying to discern any other lifeform in close vicinity. any possible culprit. anything to explain what the fuck is going on.

“are you alone?” the question is courtesy, he already knows the answer. 

“no.” maybe he didn’t know after all.

he narrows his eyes, and you rush to fix whatever mistake you made. “my boyfriend—and friends, so many friends, are waiting on me. they’ll know if i don’t show up.”

you’re nervous. kakucho steps closer, and you’re quick to jump on your feet. “you’re right, i should probably go—”

“did you do this?”

“do what?”

as if it wasn’t obvious, he waves his arm at his fallen friend. “this.”

it’s been a long night. you’re frustrated, terrified out of your goddamn mind, and you can’t help the panic tears that start to form.

“i’m so sorry!” you bow, trying to hold back from outright sobbing in front of the delinquent. “he—i was alone, and he came around and-and started talking to me and i just, i got scared!”

kakucho blinks, again. 

“i didn’t mean to hurt him, i’m sure he’s a great guy, i was just jumpy, and fuck i didn't mean to cause any trouble.”

tears run down your cheeks, mourning both your sweater as a breeze rolls by and your wasted last moments of youth. great, you’re making it awkward. 

sometimes instincts take over, and kakucho is unsure why he’s shrugging off his tenjiku coat. neither does he have an answer as to why he reached to drape it over your shoulders.

“c’mon, just breathe.”

you do. you take a deep, deep breath, and your problems start to lessen. not actually though, the other gang member is still very much on the ground. however, it's nice not feeling in immediate danger anymore.

kakucho settles down next to mochi, and pats the ground next to him. “sit.”

last thing he tasked you ended up helping, so you decide to listen once more. a respectable distance away from him, you sit.

he’s not sure where to start. there’s so many questions he needs the answer to.

(how did you take out mochi? how did you know the exact warehouse where the higher-ups were meeting tonight?)

but he keeps quiet. 

either way, any explanations coming from you would be interrupted by hiccuping, and he didn’t want to risk any more crying from you.

“am i in trouble?”

the answer should be obvious. kakucho knows you’re aware of the mess you’re in now. still, there must be something missing. “i can count with one hand the people who’ve been able to take mochi out.”

so that’s his name. your gaze lands on him, peacefully resting. it’s a nice name. 

“so i need you to be honest,” kakucho tries his best to speak gently. “did you do this?”

he takes in a sharp breath when you nod.

“...how?”

the strained chuckle that leaves your lips makes his heart skip a beat or two. “i just, y’know, hit him.”

“but, how?” the mere thought is baffling to him.

“i can show you if you want.” you bite back. it’s playful. now you can cross-out befriending a random delinquent from your bucket list.

“never thought i’d see kakucho flirting.” a new voice enters the array. “didn’t know he had it in him.”

white hair flows freely, unfazed by the unresponsive commander beside the two. his presence exudes commands without diction. explain, now.

kakucho’s posture stiffens, and he’s quick to get back on his feet. “i arrived and mochi was knocked out, seemingly by,” he pauses to look at you. “uh, what’s your name?”

you match his movements, standing up and completely ignoring his question. “i’m really sorry about that, i didn’t know he was—”

izana interrupts the meaningless spiel, “your name, what is it?"

shivers crawl up your spine. a phantom would be more merciful with the frighten. so you answer his question.

and just like that, poor mochi is forgotten. "i like your name, it's nice on the ears."

you know better than to grimace at the compliment (was it really?) "i should get going, i don't want to be in your hair any longer."

izana follows your every movement with violet eyes. not a word is uttered, just a plastered, quite unsettling smile on his face as acknowledgment. 

right, your idiot boyfriend. one quick glance at the no signal on your phone serves as a reminder you're stranded.

a jingle brings you back to reality. it's izana, tilting his head. "what's wrong?"

well, you're certain all trains back home stopped doing rounds about half an hour ago, and there’s no way you can catch a ride from either of these two.

(the guy with the scar would probably do it, he seems kind. the urge to squish his cheeks like a grandma would is intense.)

"actually," an awkward laugh makes up for the nerves rattling within. "i.. can't leave, not yet."

his patience is wearing thin, you presume. "is that so?"

from behind you, kakucho shifts. would they even go for a one on two? when you're the one wearing heels?

"i told kakucho—" you glance back to confirm you remembered his name correctly, biting back a smile when he looks surprised. "—i was waiting for my friends and boyfriend, specifically at this exact, dirty warehouse." 

izana doesn't look satisfied. 

"half of that was a lie, it's just my boyfriend i'm supposed to meet." this doesn't seem to be getting any better. 

he's thinking about something.

"i know i shouldn't have lied, but it's basic street smarts! can't blame me for that." 

he steps closer, seemingly having resolved whatever idea was brewing in his head.

you're close to going on another rant on street safety, or maybe going for another swing, but izana makes you stop dead in your tracks. "do you wanna be kakucho's girlfriend?"

smelly thugs was cutting it short, this guy was bizarre as fuck.

kakucho is grateful you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. tenjiku’s number two, overwhelmed with a barrage of embarrassment and murderous tendencies for his one and only king.

(was he that obvious? were his fleeting glances that easy to notice?)

izana on the other hand had only just begun his career as a salesman. “kakucho here is a great guy—the definition of a gentleman and a picture-perfect servant.” 

odd way of selling someone for a boyfriend. you’d have a few pointers and even additions to his pitch, except you literally have a boyfriend, and you’ve told him so.

you check for the hour. maybe you’ll consider his proposal if kakucho isn’t horrid with meeting on time. “go on.”

two heavenly kings have yet to show their faces, another is knocked out, and the last is close to digging himself an early grave.

“so you’ll date kakucho then?”

has he heard a single word you’ve spoken? “i have a boyfriend.”

“it’s a yes or no question, preferably yes or yes.”

it’s better if you ignore the vague implication of a threat behind his statement. “rain check?”

that seems to please him. “i’m izana,” he offers his hand for a handshake. “pleasure doing business with you.”

“cool.” you’re absolutely sure he’s missing a screw in his head, but it’s funny. 

“too late to join the roster?” to absolutely no one’s surprise, it’s a new voice joining this sick joke of a night. you’re amazed at the fact four men have managed to show up unannounced to your date, and none are the one you're actually going out with.

izana turns to meet the new addition, eyebrow raising at the fact it’s only half the duo. 

“he’s finding a spot to park, sent me to check on that one over there.” one hand points to you, the other toys with a dual-colored braid. 

he’s clad in a black uniform—just like rindou’s. everything's even more confusing now, hurray you!

kakucho, who’s more than grateful to leave the past conversation behind, begins to process the situation. “you know ran?”

“ran?” puzzle pieces are slowly coming together. “as in haitani? ran haitani?”

the man himself lets out a low whistle. “sorry man, only been here for at least half a minute and i’m already takin' the spotlight—nothing personal.”

that’s not how you meant it at all. “no-”

“kakucho gave her his jacket.” izana you are not helping. 

“that has nothing to do with this.” kakucho pleads to everything under the sun for his boss to just, shut up. just this once.

“ran, where’s ri-”

“see? already reeling back to me, i think i've got more game than you.” rindou was right, he’s a living headache. 

izana tugs at your blouse. “you already said yes on kakucho, no take backs.”

“that never happened.” kakucho, angel on earth, everyone.

something boils from within. "i have a boyfriend."

“you’re too pretty for him.” he blurts without an ounce of hesitation in his body. it’s amusing how ran said the same thing as rindou—they really are family. still, no. does he even know you're dating his brother? 

the situation is getting out of hand, your patience is being tested, and you just want to go home at this point. 

at this rate you’re sending ran home with half his braids in your fist, izana is getting his arm put in a cast if he utters another word, and kakucho is getting his jacket back and a pat on the head.

there are a few reasons you’re dating rindou haitani. among the perks lies the telepathic bond you two have—whatever you think, rindou is already doing. which is exactly why ran is suddenly getting his braid damn near ripped out by gloved hands.

“wanna say that again?” rindou holds the hair tightly in a fist, he’s fuming. “c'mon, don’t pussy out now.”

the three of you gawk at the scene. kakucho and you in shock, izana in awe. the man of the hour arrived, and everything took a turn for the worse.

the youngest haitani has always followed his older brother like a best friend and inspiration. it’s a relationship based on respect for the other and no one else. sure, they have disagreements, but rindou admires no one more than ran. 

the haitani brothers, joined at the hip by crime and blood, now tearing each other apart in the pettiest of ways.

ran, tallest, oldest, arguably strongest, hisses in pain by the harsh tugging. “why dontcha rip it out while y’re fucking at it? whatever got into you?”

izana pokes a finger into your side for the second time. “you know rindou?”

your eyes are glued on the brothers. ran keeps whining, rindou is professing his undying and very much ongoing love for you. “yeah, we’re dating.”

a pause. a long one at that. 

“...why?” he sounds puzzled.

rindou screams insults at ran and soon drags his hair-stylist through the mud too, for some reason. “what do you mean by that?”

izana blinks at you like the answer is obvious. “is he like, forcing you or something?”

“what?”

kakucho, who’s been silently witnessing the convo fights to stifle his laughter. it’s of no use, not when you’re throwing his jacket back at his face to shush him. it’s a strong throw, sending him backwards a step or two.

izana thinks you’re funny, too. “you are too pretty for him.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀navi.⠀＆⠀m.list.⠀＆⠀send me an ask!

I’m not familiar with the group but I just wanna say I’m so sorry for the fans and even more so his family, friends and members. I also wanna say, do not feel silly if you are upset. You are allowed to grieve people that you don’t know personally. Whenever stuff like this happens, there are shitty people who go out of their way to try and make people feel stupid for reacting. Ignore them. Again, you are allowed to grieve for people you don’t know personally, there’s nothing silly about that.

FIRE ON FIRE , min yoongi ( preview )

gangster ! min yoongi x fem ! reader

inspired by the haegeum music video.

SUMMARY . when it came to the people you truly cared about, you knew you’d go to the end of the world for them – no matter how hard it was to reach. with the sudden disappearance of your brother, you found yourself trapped in the corrupt game of a man with a double life. but you’d do anything to save what remained of your family, even if it meant playing with fire.

SERIES WARNINGS . smut at its finest. angst, some gore themes but not too extreme or detailed, use of language, violence and mentions of blood, weapons and eventual use of alcohol and weed. min yoongi ( or i should say agust d ) deserves his own warning. warnings more detailed in each chapter.

AUTHOR’S NOTE . did i just start a series only because of a music video? yes i did. no other person awakens my creativeness as much as min yoongi, and his music video gave me so many ideas for a new series. let me know if you want to be tagged in it!

enjoy this sneak peek! :) [ click on read more ]

You were never the type of person to spare a second glance at someone who intensively stared at you from afar, being now used to their mere intentions of laying with the first woman they set their eyes on.

But there was just something about him that resonated with your flaming soul – although he had no right to be. He was a hardened criminal, leader of a local gang. You wouldn’t normally even think twice about going near someone like him.

But he was just too enticing.

You could feel your heart race when he moved his gaze away from you for a few seconds, a sigh leaving your lips as if you were struggling to breath. But that feeling soon intensified when he swiftly got up from his seat, discarding his cigarette on the table, and started approaching you at the bar, a slow grin growing on his face.

“Were you waiting for me, doll?” his raspy voice met your ears in a delicious manner, somehow matching the sunken scar on his feline eye. Everything about him suited his persona in the most twisted of ways, from the contrast of his raven, black hair with the pale, ash colour of his skin, to his confident composure.

And that was all it took for you to realise, that you were about to play with fire.