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GANGSTA | myg- 010

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, gang related activity, and murder; five things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader.

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni.

word count: 7.5k

Your finger hovers over the delete button, trembling slightly. Five months of photos—five months of your life with Hanbin, your now ex-boyfriend, poised to vanish down the drain with a single tap.

A hollow ache opens up in your chest, making it hard to draw a full breath. You don't want to say goodbye. You want to cling to the digital proof that he loved you, that you were happy. But a cold, leaden reality settles behind your ribs; you have to let go. He isn't going to miraculously call you. He isn't going to change his mind about the breakup.

Closing your eyes against the glare of the screen, you force your thumb to drop. Two-hundred photos deleted. You exhale a shaky sigh, the sudden emptiness in your chest letting the tears finally brim over your eyelashes.

Tap. Tap.

The abrupt knock on your bedroom window jolts you out of your grief. Your heart leaps into your throat as you spin around, only to see Jungkook peering through the glass, waving you over with a lopsided grin.

You furrow your brows in utter bewilderment. Wiping a stray tear from your cheek, you scramble off the bed to unlock the window. You needed to get the brunet inside fast, before a nosy neighbor spots a guy scaling the side of the house and calls your parents to report an intruder on the second floor.

“Jungkook, what’re you doing here?” you whisper-yell the moment he hoists his frame over the sill and steps into the sanctuary of your bedroom.

“Came to make sure you were okay,” he says, shoving his hands into his jean pockets and shifting his weight.

“Was the front door not available?” you ask, crossing your arms to mask the tremor still lingering from your crying fit.

“It’s late,” he shrugs, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I know your parents don’t like me here past curfew,”

That was an understatement. Even though you and Jungkook were strictly friends, your parents weren’t fond of any boy being behind closed doors with you alone—especially at night. Letting a boy climb through the second story window was a one-way ticket to getting grounded for life. Regardless of how much they love Kookie.

“How’re you holding up? I heard about you and Hanbin.” His gaze softens, his voice dropping into that quiet, comforting register reserved only for you.

“I guess word travels fast,” you mumble. Frowning, you turn your back on him, walking across the room to sink back onto the edge of your mattress to sulk.

“Mina mentioned it to me, actually,” Jungkook says, following you with his eyes. “Which kind of sucked, to be honest. I expected you to tell me yourself.”

“I wasn’t exactly trying to broadcast to the world that I got dumped.”

The mattress dips beside you as Jungkook crosses the room, sitting close enough that his shoulder brushes yours. “I’m not the world,” he says gently, leaning in to catch your downward gaze. “I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

You exhale a ragged sigh, your knuckles brushing against your eyes as a fresh wave of tears threatens to spill. “He didn’t even tell me why, Jungkook. Just that he ‘couldn’t do this anymore.’ That seems to be the story of my life when it comes to relationships. I must be the worst girlfriend.”

“Hey.” Jungkook’s tone sharpens, the soft comfort instantly hardening into fierce defense. He leans closer, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t let a loser like Hanbin make you talk down about yourself. The guy didn’t deserve you. Not even close.”

“Kookie, you say that about every guy I date,” you murmur, a faint, watery smile fighting its way through your tears.

“That’s because it’s true,” he counters without a hint of hesitation. “No offense, y/n, but you have a habit of picking dudes that are literally garbage for you.”

“It’s not my fault that all the good guys are taken.”

The room plunges into a sudden, heavy silence. The playful banter evaporates, leaving the space between you thick with unspoken tension.“Not all of them are taken,” Jungkook says softly. He doesn't look away, his dark eyes holding yours with a sudden, intense gravity. “Some of them are probably just biding their time until the right girl comes along.”

“Like who?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper as you wait for him to drop a name.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he shifts his gaze to his lap, his knuckles tightening against his denim jeans. “I don’t know… love just comes unexpectedly.”

A cold knot ties itself behind your breastbone, a sudden shift in the air making your chest feel tight. “Well, I guess you’re lucky then… you got Ji-eun, she seems to like you a lot.”

The mention of her name hangs in the air like a physical barrier. Jungkook falls completely silent. The easy comfort from moments ago vanishes, leaving the room suffocatingly quiet.

“Yeah…” he breathes out at last, the word heavy and flat, before the silence swallows you both whole.

“Can you sing to me?” you ask, desperately trying to dissolve the awkward tension and bring back the easy warmth that usually filled the room.

Jungkook always sang to you when you were sad. He had an incredible, velvet voice—the kind that made you secretly wonder why his dream was to be a tattoo artist instead of a singer. But you supported whatever future he wanted to build for himself.

The heavy silence fractures, and the tight lines of his shoulders finally relax. “What do you want me to sing?” he asks softly.

You shift slightly, letting your head drop onto his shoulder as you close your eyes. “Surprise me.”

He nods, quiet for a moment as he hums a low note under his breath to find the right key.

“Beauty queen of only eighteen, she had some trouble with herself,” he begins, his raw, unpolished vocals wrapping around you like a familiar blanket.

A genuine smile finally breaks through your melancholy. She Will Be Loved. Your favorite song.

“He was always there to help her,” Jungkook continues, his shoulder shifting slightly under your weight as his voice grows softer, more deliberate. “She always belonged to someone else…”

You watch Yoongi as he slips his belt back into the loops of his jeans, the leather sliding with a soft hiss. “You don’t have to stay here tonight, you know? I think I was just being dramatic about the news thing.”

Yoongi flicks his gaze up, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a sharp, perceptive intensity as he adjusts the tightness of the buckle. “Is that your way of telling me to leave?”

The question hangs in the air, low and heavy, dropping the room into a sudden, loaded silence.

“No,” you murmur, the lingering scent of his citrus cologne making the air feel suddenly thick. “I just assumed you have more important things going on than to be here with me.”

Yoongi stares you down, his head tilting slightly as he processes your words. The intensity in his eyes softens, replaced by something dangerously steady.

“What’s more important than you?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sharp sting a grounding contrast to the chaos in your head. Your fingers tighten around the edges of the blanket, pulling the fabric higher to shield your exposed body from his steady gaze.

“I shouldn’t have called you here, Yoongi.”

The words leave your lips in a quiet rush, heavy with a sudden, suffocating wave of guilt. The reality of the situation settles over you like ice water—the intimacy, the timing, the mess of it all. You look down, unable to meet his eyes, terrified of what he might see written across your face.

Yoongi lets out a sharp scoff, running a hand through his hair as his shoulders drop with a sudden, heavy irritation. The soft look from moments ago completely vanishes, replaced by a cold, weary frustration.

“So, what? This gonna be our routine now?” his voice drops, low and flat. He doesn't move closer, but his eyes stay locked on you, demanding an answer. “I fuck you, you get all guilty over some bitch-ass boyfriend you aren't even sure you love, and then you tell me to leave you alone?”

He waits for you to say something.

You don’t.

You just sit there, frozen under the heavy weight of his irritation, clutching the blanket like a shield.

“You’re twisted as fuck in the head, y’know that?” Yoongi says, shaking his head.

The words hit you like a slap, making your eyes snap back up to him, pure disbelief across your face. You were twisted in the head? Coming from Yoongi? A bitter, incredulous laugh rips from your throat before you can stop it. He was a drug dealer with damning accusations hanging over his head. You hadn’t forgotten a single word of what Hoseok told you.

“I’m twisted?” you fire back, the guilt instantly evaporating, replaced by a surge of defensive adrenaline. “I’m sorry, but am I in the twilight zone? The first time I met you, you and your thugs tried to boot an old couple out of their table! You’re a drug dealer, a womanizer, you beat the shit out of your own brother, you have my best friend’s boyfriend as one of your drug mules, and you made him give you information about me because you’re literally a stalker! And don’t get me started on what Hoseok told me—”

You snap your mouth shut, trying to catch yourself, but the words are already out. The room goes deathly still. It's too late. You had finally let the exact thing that had been eating at you slip right past your teeth.

The silence that follows is suffocating. Yoongi doesn’t explode, he doesn't shout; instead, a terrifyingly still calm settles over him. He tilts his head slightly, his eyes darkening into two bottomless pools as he locks his gaze onto yours.

“What did Hoseok tell you?”

His voice is dangerously low, stripped of all previous irritation. The sudden shift in his demeanor makes the adrenaline that was just pumping through your veins curdle into pure dread. You can feel the weight of your mistake pressing down on your chest, the blanket suddenly offering zero protection against the cold aura radiating off him.

“I—He…” you stutter, the words catching in your throat as the sheer intensity of his gaze pins you to the mattress. “Nothing. He didn’t tell me anything,” You lie, desperately trying to salvage the situation and push the conversation back into a safe zone. “I don’t know what I was even talking about…”

“Is that right?” Yoongi says, his voice flat, devoid of any belief.

You nod quickly, your chest heaving against the tight grip you have on the blanket.

Yoongi’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, a dangerous gesture that makes your stomach drop. “Well, the little fuck is across the hall from you, right?” he asks, his tone eerily casual. “How about I just go ask him myself? I’ll make sure the rat thanks you when I stomp his fucking teeth in.”

Before you can even process the threat, he turns on his heel. He strides straight through your open bedroom door and into the living room, heading directly for the front door of your apartment.

“No, Yoongi, don’t!” you panic, throwing the blanket aside heedless of your exposed skin as you scramble up from the bed.

But he ignores you entirely. He crosses the short distance of the living room in seconds, his hand wrapping firmly around the deadbolt and the doorknob, ready to tear open the space between your apartment and Hoseok's.

Terror spikes white-hot through your veins. “Okay, I’ll tell you!” you yell, completely giving in.

Yoongi halts, his body freezing mid motion at the front door. He turns his head back to face you, though his hands remain firmly planted on the deadbolt and doorknob, keeping the threat alive.

As you stand frozen in the entryway of your bedroom, his eyes drop, taking a slow detour down the length of your exposed body. An eyebrow arches as his gaze slants back up to meet your panicked eyes. “Yeah?” he prompts, his voice low.

“Yes,” you breathe out, your hands trembling at your sides as you try to block out the chill of the room. “I’ll tell you what he told me, okay? Just... please don’t go over there.”

Yoongi slowly releases his grip on the doorknob, though he doesn't step away from the front door. “I’m listening,” he says, his voice flat and impatient.

You swallow hard, the cold air of the living room biting at your bare skin, but you’re too terrified to move back into the bedroom for the blanket. Your heart hammers against your ribs as you try to figure out how to phrase the next words without making things infinitely worse.

“He mentioned his girlfriend…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper.

You watch his face intently, searching for even the slightest crack in his composure—a twitch in his eye, a tightening of his jaw, anything. But Yoongi remains completely unbothered, his features carved from stone as he leans against the front door with his hands in his pockets, waiting for you to continue.

You swallow the lump of dread in your throat and force the rest of the words out. “He said she was gone because of you. That you took her to get back at him… and got away with it.”

The accusation hangs in the suffocating air of your small living room. For a long, agonizing moment, the only sound is the frantic rushing of blood in your own ears as you wait to see how a man accused of such a thing will react. Yoongi sighs, a heavy, exhausted sound that runs through the quiet apartment.

“He told you about that?”

You squint at him, your chest tightening. He wasn’t denying it?

The raven pushes off the front door, walking over to you. You step back slightly into the bedroom, your heart hammering against your ribs, completely unsure of what to expect from him. But he doesn't lash out. Instead, he simply takes your hand in his firm grip and leads you back toward the bed. The two of you sit on the edge of the mattress, the tension thick between you as you anxiously wait for him to continue.

“Hoseok’s girl was addicted to drugs,” Yoongi starts, his voice flat, devoid of the anger you expected, carrying only a grim finality. “He blames me for it because I supplied it to her. One day he went to see her and found her dead with a needle in her arm.”

A cold chill runs down your spine as the puzzle pieces flip entirely.

“After that, he started working with the feds, became an informant for them,” Yoongi continues, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. “They had their eyes on me already, and my best friend—my brother—tried to get me locked up because he couldn’t cope with her death.”

You sit there, staring at him, your mind racing to process the sudden shift in reality. The monster Hoseok had painted didn't match the tired, hardened man sitting right next to you on the edge of the mattress.

Yoongi lets out a dark, humorless chuckle, staring down at your joined hands. “So yeah, she’s gone because of me. In his eyes, anyway. He thinks because I ran the block, I killed her myself. But I didn't force the needle into her arm, y/n. Sometimes you just can’t save a junkie.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, the heavy topic pressing in on you as your mind automatically wanders to Jin’s situation. You picture Mina’s face, imagining how utterly destroyed she’d be if she found out about his addiction. She’s the type who would probably stick stubbornly by his side, tearing herself apart trying to save him, only to be dragged down into the dark right along with him. If Jin ultimately lost the good fight to drugs... it would destroy her. And the thought that follows makes your stomach violently turn; she might even blame you for it, much like Hoseok blamed Yoongi. The only difference is you didn’t supply the drugs to Jin, but you weren’t being a very good friend by hiding either.

Yoongi finally looks up, his dark eyes meeting yours, steady and unblinking. “So tell me,” he says softly, his voice dropping into that low octave that sends a shiver straight down your spine. “Am I still the monster you think I am?”

You search the raven's dark eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “I–I guess not. It’s just... when he told me, he was so adamant about how dangerous you are. He made it sound like you physically killed her…”

“Yeah, princess, I’m sure the fucker was real convincing,” he says, a sharp bite to his voice. “But I already told you—I’ve never killed anyone. That’s just hearsay from people who think I’m a menace to society because I deal.” He lets go of your hand, dragging his fingers through his hair with a heavy exhale. “I’m Gongdan trash, sweetheart. My old man was a drunk who got himself and my mother killed, and I’ve been in and out of jail my whole life. It’s easy to name me The Devil…”

You stare down at your lap, picking at your fingers. “You don’t make it very easy on yourself, you know? Bullying old people, beating guys to a bloody pulp... it’s not exactly a good look.”

Yoongi lets out a slow sigh, his gaze fixed on the wall ahead. “I never gave a fuck what anyone thought of me,” he says softly. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, physically hesitating—like exposing his feelings was a dangerous misstep. “But you... what you think means everything.”

Silence settles heavily between you, thick and charged. The weight of his words hangs in the cool air, making your chest ache with a sudden, suffocating pressure. He doesn't look at you—not yet—keeping his jaw clenched, his eyes still fixed on the blank wall as if waiting for you to tear his heart apart for giving it to you.

“Yoongi…” you whisper, his name slipping out before you can stop it.

At the sound of it, his head turns slowly. You part your lips to speak, but the words catch in your throat. Silence stretches until you notice him leaning in. He's inches away, his dark gaze heavy on your mouth, when a stray thought suddenly breaks through the haze. You turn your head at the last second, his breath catching cold against your cheek.

“You said... that night,” you breathe out, your heart hammering against your ribs. “At the first kickback, you said you didn't let Hoseok get away with snitching. What did you do to him?”

Yoongi drops his eyelids shut, looking utterly exhausted by the mere mention of Hoseok interrupting the moment. “We beat him to a bloody pulp.” He doesn't pull back—his hot breath still brushes over your lips.

“That’s it?” you whisper, your voice lacking conviction.

Opening his eyes, his dark gaze anchors yours. “I’d never lie to you, princess.”

“Never?”

“Never.” His hand reaches out, long fingers gently framing your chin, lifting your face to his. “I'd never lie to my girl.”

You turn your head slightly, breaking the angle of his grip. “Yoongi.. I can't be your girl.”

He doesn't flinch, doesn't pull back an inch. His eyes stay dangerously steady on yours. “Maybe not now... but you will be, princess. I can guarantee you’ll be mine one day.”

Your eyes flutter open to the gleam of the sun shining through your curtains. Behind you, there's a quiet snore, accompanied by the heavy weight of an arm draped around your waist.

Yoongi.

You glance at the clock on your nightstand. 11:30 am. Your heart spikes; you need to get up for work right now. Reaching down, you wrap your fingers around Yoongi's wrist to pull his arm away, but the movement only triggers his instincts. His grip tightens, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Stop moving,” he mumbles, his breath warm against your shoulder.

“I have to get ready for work,” you say, your eyes still glued to the ticking red numbers.

“Call off,” he grumbles, his voice low, gravelly, and deep—a sleep-heavy tone that turns you on far more than it should.

“I can't,” you push back, fighting the sudden knot in your stomach. “I need to get ready, and you need to leave.”

Yoongi groans, a dark, low sound of frustration as he finally releases his grip. The sudden lack of warmth hits you immediately, but you don't waste a second. You throw the blankets back and swing your legs out of bed.

As you scramble to your feet, you catch his gaze following you. He's propped up on one elbow, messy dark hair falling into his eyes, watching you move with a heavy, unreadable intensity.

“Let me drive you to work,” the raven says, his gaze lazily scanning down your body. You're clad in nothing but an old Slipknot t-shirt that swallows your frame—a shirt that, ironically, belongs to Jungkook.

You shoot him a sharp look. “I don't think it's a very good idea to be seen with you… no offense. My coworker, Jimin, is kind of a blabbermouth. I don't need him telling…”

You stop yourself dead in your tracks, snapping your mouth shut before Jungkook's name can slip past your lips. Bringing him up would be like throwing a lit match on gasoline.

“...You know.” you finish lamely, looking away.

Yoongi rolls his eyes as he sits up to lean against your headboard with an unbothered, lazy grace. “My windows are tinted, sweetheart. You don’t need to worry about discretion when it comes to me.”

“Regardless, I don't think it's a good idea.” You stand firm as you pull a plain white shirt and black leggings from your wardrobe, turning around to face him. “Get out so I can change.”

He raises a brow, his dark gaze trailing shamelessly down your legs. “You feelin’ modest suddenly? I've already seen you naked, princess. Hell, I can see your pussy lips poking out from under the shirt as we speak.”

The sheer boldness of his words stun you, your stomach taking a sharp drop. You swallow hard, refusing to shrink under his heavy gaze. “Then turn your head or something,” you demand, your voice tighter than you intended. “Because I'm not changing in front of you.”

Yoongi watches you for an agonizing second before slowly leaning his head back against the board, letting his eyelids fall shut with a low scoff. “You're wasting time, dollface. You’re gonna be late.”

You let out an annoyed huff, quickly pulling on your leggings. Without overthinking it, you toss the Slipknot shirt onto the floor and walk over to your nightstand to grab a bra.

“So you gonna let me drive you, or what? Final offer.”

Looking up at the clock, the numbers 11:38 am glare back at you. If you waited for the bus, you'd be at least twenty minutes late. You sigh, clasping the bra behind your back.

“Fine,” you surrender. “But you need to get your ass up so we can get out of here ASAP.”

Yoongi opens his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh of disappointment to see you almost fully dressed. Since he slept in his clothes from last night, he just swings his legs over the mattress. “Y'know, I was thinking…”

“That doesn’t sound good,” you cut in, dragging your shirt down over your chest.

A smirk touches his lips as he slips into his white Nikes. “I wanna take you on a date tonight.”

You tilt your head, crossing your arms. “A date? To where? McDonald's?”

“I see you have jokes today, princess,” Yoongi scoffs softly. “No, somewhere nice. You know I'm good for it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating. It had been months since you'd been taken on a real, formal date—not since your first one with Jungkook.

“If I say yes, where are you thinking?” you ask, bending down to pull on a pair of socks and your non-slip work shoes. Reaching for your purse on the nightstand, you sling it over your arm.

“I'm thinking Atrium,” he says casually.

Your eyes widen. Atrium. That was the high-end spot Mina went to with Jin last night—a place way out of your usual budget. The sheer greed of wanting to go there completely wipes out your lingering hesitation.

“Okay, fine. I'll go,” you say, charging toward the bedroom door. “Now, can we leave before I end up unemployed?”

You and Yoongi exit your bedroom. Reaching into your living room, he snatches his leather jacket off the back of the couch, while you dig through your purse for your keys. Yoongi opens the front door, but before either of you can walk out, you're met with a figure frozen mid-knock.

Your eyes widen, and your heart drops into your chest. “M-Mina?” you stutter, your hands suddenly going clammy. “W-what... what are you doing here?”

Mina doesn't say a word at first, her eyes wide with shock as she takes in the sight of you leaving your apartment with Yoongi at nearly noon. “I... I came to see you before you left,” she stammers, her gaze darting between you and him. “I was going to offer you a ride to work... Am I interrupting something?”

Speechless, your throat locks up tight. What could you possibly say to justify Yoongi being here?

Sensing your complete panic, Yoongi steps in without missing a beat. “Looks like you got yourself a replacement ride, sweetheart. Now you don't have to worry about Jimin seeing you with me,” he says, a lazy smirk touching his lips. He looks down at you, his eyes dark. “I'll see you tonight.”

With an unbothered air, he casually brushes past Mina, his shoulder skimming hers as he strolls down the hallway, leaving the heavy, suffocating silence behind.

Mina waits until his footsteps completely fade down the hall before shoving you back inside and slamming the door shut. “What the actual fuck?! What the hell was he doing here?!” she explodes in true Mina fashion.

“It's not what it looks like–”

“Really?” Mina snaps, her arm whipping out to gesture at the coffee table in front of your couch.

“Because it looks like he spent the damn night here!”

Resting on the wood is the half-empty pizza box from last night. You two didn’t even get to finish it thanks to your sexual urges. You let out a heavy sigh, dragging both hands over your face in sheer frustration.

“Listen, can we please talk about this later?” you groan, your voice muffled behind your palms. “I’m going to be late for work if I don't get out of here right now.”

Mina presses her tongue against the inside of her cheek, glaring at you for a split second before giving in. She spins around and swings the front door open, stepping out into the hallway. Following close behind, you twist the key in the lock. The silence between you is thick and suffocating—a ticking time bomb just waiting for you both to step into her car.

As you reach the glass building doors, you spot Mina’s silver Chevy Cruze parked by the curb. She aims her key fob, the car unlocking with a chirp. Her eyes are locked onto you the entire walk across the lot. You climb into the passenger seat, and Mina follows suit to the driver’s side, cranking the ignition.

The Cruze rolls onto the street in a silence that doesn't last long.

“Y/n, I can't hold my tongue anymore,” Mina says, her voice breaking the quiet. There's no anger in her tone, just raw concern. “What are you doing with Yoongi? Why was he at your place?”

You let out a shaky sigh, finally biting the bullet. “Last night, Jungkook was supposed to come over for a movie night. But he canceled, and... we got into a huge fight. He said something really awful to me. I tried calling you because I was sad, but–”

“I was going on a date with Jin…” Mina mutters, feeling slightly responsible.

“Right,” you whisper, staring at your lap. “So I was just sitting there, alone and sad. I turned the TV on to drown out my thoughts, and this disturbing news report came on about a dismembered body found at Suseongmot Lake. I got so freaked out, I... I called Yoongi to come over.”

Mina's expression twists from concerned to utterly horrified. “A dismembered body? Do they know who the victim was?”

You shake your head. “The hands and feet were chopped off to prevent identification.”

A visible shiver runs through Mina. “God… Suseongmot Lake? That's way too close to home.” She bites the inside of her cheek, processing the news until a sudden look of realization hits her. “Wait... what if Yoongi had something to do with it? You remember what Jimin told us—he killed a guy with chopsticks. And wasn't Jungkook's coworker found dismembered in a suitcase over in Gongdan?”

Your eyebrows furrow instantly. “He's not actually like that, Mina.” You surprise yourself with how fast you jump to the raven’s defense.

“He's a drug dealer and a gang leader, Y/n!” Mina snaps. “His nickname is literally The Daegu Devil. Gongdan is his territory, and didn't you tell me yourself that he walked into the tattoo shop and pistol-whipped the guy before his body was found weeks later?”

“Yeah, I did, but that was before…” You trail off, looking out the window.

“Before what?” she presses, flicking her eyes off the road.

“...Before I got to know him.” Your mind wanders to Yoongi—his low voice, his laugh, his gummy smile. The way his dark eyes softened just for you, and how tender his hands felt against your skin. “He can be an asshole, and he's arrogant as all hell, but... he's also sweet. And charming, and funny, and talented... and he smells amazing.” A faint smile tugs at your lips before you even realize it.

Mina glances over, her jaw dropping. “Oh my god... you fucked him, didn’t you?!”

“What?!” You whip around to face the blonde. “ No!” you yell, your face instantly burning up.

“Liar! I literally know your lying face, Y/n!”

You look away, staring out the window as heat pricks your cheeks in shame.

"I knew it! I knew the day he helped you in that alley he was going to want something in return," Mina fumes, hitting the steering wheel. “I can't believe you lost your virginity to the city’s drug dealer! How many times have you slept with him?!"

“We've only done it twice!” You turn back to face her, your pride flaring up. “Last night was only the second time! I don't get why you're freaking out— you're the one who kept telling me to sleep with other guys since Jungkook was taking forever!”

Mina scoffs loudly. “Yeah, but I meant someone like Jimin! Sweet, cute, harmless Jimin! Hell, even your weird neighbor would've been a better choice.”

You bite your tongue. If she only knew Hoseok's actual history, she wouldn't be calling him a safe candidate either.

The Cruze falls into a brief silence before Mina's eyes widen. “Wait... were you at least safe? Did he use a condom? Guys like Yoongi are definitely the type to go raw, and all hell will break loose if you get pregnant by that thug.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, dropping your gaze to your lap. Mina glances over, your silence giving her all the answer she needs.

“God, Y/n, are you serious?! I can’t believe I have to have this conversation with you of all people!” she groans, flipping open the center console with one hand while keeping the other on the wheel. She digs around blindly until her fingers snag what she's looking for.

She tosses a Plan B box into your lap. “They work up to five days, so take it right now so it's actually effective.”

Luckily, it had only been two days since your first night with the raven. You pick up the box, eyeing her skeptically. “Why do you just have a random box of Plan B sitting in your glove compartment?”

“Because sometimes Jin and I get lost in moments of passion,” she shrugs casually. “Just be grateful I'm prepared in your time of crisis. Now take it before you end up The Daegu Devil's baby mama.” She grimaces at the absolute nightmare of that reality.

You open the packaging and slide out the tiny white pill. “Got any water?”

Mina reaches into her door pocket, grabbing a half-full water bottle and handing it over. You twist the cap off, pop the pill onto your tongue, and swallow it down with a long gulp. “Thanks…” you say quietly, twisting the plastic cap back onto the water bottle.

Mina simply nods, her eyes fixed on the road.

Silence settles over the car once more, thick and heavy.

“Why didn't you tell me about you and Yoongi sooner?” Mina asks, her voice dropping softly. “I'm your best friend. I probably would've given you shit for it, but you know you can trust me to keep a secret.”

You exhale, staring at the water bottle. “There was nothing to tell, Mina. This whole thing with Yoongi is brand new, and it's super casual. He'll move on to the next girl the second he gets bored, and then there won't be anything to talk about anyway.”

Mina bites her lower lip, contemplating your words. “Well... you know I'm not gonna tell Jungkook. Especially since I was the one pushing you to sleep around anyway. But I really don't think you should keep seeing Yoongi.”

“I won't,” you assure her quickly. “Like I said, it was a one-time thing—well, two. He saved me from something terrible, and I felt like I owed him. That's all it was. It's not gonna turn into anything else, believe me.”

She nods slowly, but her knuckles remain white on the steering wheel. “Good. Because I don't get a good feeling from him at all, Y/n. I know you think he's your sweet, charming savior, but... there's something completely off about him. Every time he's around, I get this pit of dread in my stomach. His eyes... they… scare the shit out of me.”

You look over at Mina, and for the first time, you see absolute, unvarnished fear on her face. You understood. Of course you did. Those eyes had stared deeply into your very soul the day you met him at Makoto—void of warmth, dark and entirely emotionless.

But if Mina could just see Yoongi the way you've seen him over the past few days... if she could look past his terrifying reputation and see the quiet softness he reserved only for you, she wouldn't be afraid.

You turn back toward the passenger window, keeping the thought buried deep inside. You knew better than to say it out loud.

To Mina, and the rest of the Daegu—he was the devil. But to you… He was a guy who could shoot hoops like a pro, an amazingly talented guitarist, a man burdened by a dark, troubling past that weighed on him far heavier than he'd ever admit. He was a guy who genuinely cared about how you saw him, who understood you, and thought you deserved everything this world had to offer.

As Mina pulls into the parking lot of Makoto, her eyes narrow at the row of spaces near the entrance. “Hey... isn't that Jungkook's car?”

You snap your head away from the window, staring dead ahead through the windshield. Your heart drops straight into your stomach. She was right. Parked right near the front was Jungkook's sleek, black Dodge Charger.

You let out a long, miserable groan, sinking lower into the passenger seat. “I so don't have the energy for this.”

“I don't know what he said to you last night, but you're gonna have to face him eventually,” Mina says gently, placing the car in park. "You guys are dating. I'm sure you can work things out, just like Jin and I did.” She offers a soft, encouraging smile.

“I’m not in the mood to work things out with him right now,” you mutter, your chest tight with built-up anger. “I'm sick of feeling like this, Mina. Who dates someone for three whole months without even making things official? And don't get me started on how he dodges sex with me like I have the damn bubonic plague. I just... I can't deal with him today.”

She nods, her expression softening with genuine understanding. “Well, whatever happens, I'm here for you. Call me when you're off and I'll come pick you up.”

“Thanks, Mina…” you murmur softly.

“Of course. You practically saved my relationship with Jin—I'm totally in your debt right now,” she chuckles, flashing you a warm, grateful grin.

A sudden, cold wave of guilt washes over you, threatening to drown you right there in the passenger seat. Jin's hidden truth. The sickening secret you were forced to keep from her—a truth far darker, far worse than her ever finding out about you and Yoongi.

“I better get in there before Mr. Kim has a conniption,” you say, pushing open the passenger door and stepping out. “Talk to you later. Maybe you can fill me in on your date last night.”

“Yeah, and you can tell me what happens with Jungkook,” Mina replies, narrowing her eyes as a sudden realization hits her. “You're also gonna explain what that thug meant by 'see you tonight.”

You give her an awkward, stiff nod, shutting the Cruze's door before she can pry any further. As she drives off, you turn toward Makoto with a heavy, uneasy sigh. Jungkook was definitely inside waiting for you.

Stepping up to the entrance, you push the glass door open, the little brass bell dinging overhead.

You spot him instantly—sitting at a corner table with Jimin talking to him. The moment Jimin catches sight of you, he taps Jungkook's shoulder.

The brunet turns, his eyes locking onto yours. He offers a soft, hopeful, sympathetic smile—one you meet with a cold, unblinking glare. You make a beeline for the back kitchen to clock in, but before you can make it, Jungkook vaults out of his chair and catches your wrist, his touch gentle.

“Y/n, please,” he begs softly, his eyes brimming with remorse. “I'm sorry about last night..”

You yank your wrist out of his grip, stepping back. “Which part are you sorry for, Jungkook? Canceling on me? Or reminding me how shit my life is?” you snap.

He winces, his eyes squeezing shut as if the words physically hurt him. “All of it, angel. I'm sorry for all of it. You're right—l've been treating you like you don't matter, but I promise I'll do better. I love you, y/n. I really meant that.”

For a fleeting second, your defenses crumble under the weight of his voice. But then his harsh words from last night echo in your head—cruel, cutting, and spoken with too much conviction to be a simple mistake.

“I can't deal with this right now, Jungkook. I need to clock in.” You turn your back on him and walk straight into the kitchen, leaving him frozen in the dining area.

In the back, Mr. Kim stands in his usual spot, steam rising around him as he boils noodles. He glances up as you enter. “Welcome in. You made it just in time,” he says, glancing at the wall clock as the hands snap to 12:00 pm. You grab your time card and slide it through the clock with a sharp clack.

“I've got a delivery order to make, so l'll need you actively on the floor while Jimin takes it,” Mr. Kim informs you.

Unhooking an apron from the wall, you tie the strings around your waist. “Finally, a delivery Jimin can take instead of me,” you mutter.

Had Jimin been here the other days you had to deliver, you probably wouldn’t be where you were now with Yoongi. Was that good or bad? You weren’t quite sure anymore.

“You should thank Jimin for being sick that day. Looks like it all worked out in your favor in the end,” Mr. Kim says, a sudden bite of bitterness in his tone.

You furrow your eyebrows, turning to face him. “Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”

Before the old man can offer an explanation, the smooth, rich melody of a singing voice cuts through the clatter of the kitchen. The sound instantly stops you in your tracks.

“I don't mind spending every day out on your corner in the pouring rain…” the voice croons effortlessly, the harmony echoing off the walls. “Look for the girl with the broken smile... ask her if she wants to stay a while…”

“What the hell is going on out there? A concert?” Mr. Kim huffs, waving a metal fork in irritation.

You tune out his complaining completely, a sudden flutter igniting in your chest. It was a voice you'd grown to adore as a teenager, singing the exact song that used to make you swoon when you were sad.

“Maroon 5…” you whisper softly under your breath.

Jungkook.

You walk out of the kitchen and back onto the floor. Jungkook stands right in the center of the dining area, surrounded by the gazes of every customer in the restaurant. He doesn't look embarrassed at all. In fact, the patrons seem completely captivated by the impromptu performance, warm smiles spreading across their faces as he sings just for you.

You cross your arms over your chest, trying your absolute best to stay stoic and furious with the brunet. But as his gaze meets yours—steady, intense, and filled with unspoken apologies—the wall you built against him crumbles. A soft, helpless smile pulls at your lips despite yourself.

“And she will be loved...” he sings softly, closing the distance between you as the restaurant watches on. “She will be loved...” He’s standing right in front of you now, his song softly fading as he reaches out. His fingers slip under your elbows, gently uncrossing your arms so he can take both of your hands in his. The warmth of his palms is so familiar, so grounding, that it makes your chest ache.

The restaurant erupts into loud, enthusiastic applause. Even Jimin joins in from across the room, an impressed smirk playing on his lips as he claps along with the charmed crowd.

“I can't believe you just serenaded me at my job,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief while your smile betrays you.

Jungkook shrugs, without a shred of shame. “I didn't know how else to get you to talk to me. I figured, since I used to sing to you whenever some jerk broke your heart, I should make an exception for when I'm the jerk.”

You let out a quiet sigh, dropping your eyes to where his warm hands encompass yours. “You really hurt my feelings, Jungkook…”

“I know... I know I did. It kept me awake all night,” he says softly, his thumb tracing the back of your hand. “That's why I'm here right now. I want to make it up to you... if you'll let me.”

You tilt your head, searching his hopeful expression. “And how exactly do you intend to make it up to me? I hope it's not another movie night,” you say, narrowing your eyes.

“No. Far from that. I wanna take you out tonight,” Jungkook says, his dark eyes shining with earnest ambition. “To dinner.”

You freeze. Dinner? Tonight? A cold wave of panic shoots down your spine. Tonight was the night Yoongi explicitly said he wanted to take you out to dinner. Jungkook catches the sudden change in your posture, his smile faltering slightly.

“Unless... you have plans with Mina again tonight?”

You stare up at the brunet, watching the raw hope glimmering in his eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to crush him—not after he just stood in the middle of the restaurant and sang his heart out for you. You desperately wanted things to return to normal with Jungkook. You wanted the safety, the warmth, the sweet affection you'd missed so much. In the grand scheme of your life, a proper date with Jungkook mattered infinitely more than Yoongi.

“No, I don't have plans tonight,” you say softly, a genuine smile breaking across your face. “I'm all yours.”

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