Wings; Min Yoongi - Book 1

☾4 | Wings

Brushing past me quietly, he walks to the table set nicely in-between the pristine glass windows and dark marble countertops, the contrast of light making my mind twist in pleasant ways. He goes up to a chair and pulls it back, then turning his head expectantly at me. Feeling dumbfound wash over me for a brief second, I hurriedly walk over to the chair and sit onto it trying to avoid him noticing the faint blush on my cheeks. Pushing the chair so I can sit well, he takes a different chair and sets himself beside me, just barely enough to feel his body heat. Mingling my fingers together to help the nerves of reality settling in, I can feel his demeanor tighten mentally to that firm kindness I know all too well.

"When you read the contract, I know you read the sentence that states, you need to wear a ring to warn or frighten any opposing threats."

Reaching into his pocket he pulls out a sleek, black ring, cut nicely and absolutely breathtaking in my eyes. My mind boggles at a priceless artifact like this. Gently taking it out of his hands, trying to ignore the spark of butterflies that ignited where my fingers touched his; I examine the beautiful object.

"How-how did yo-."

But I stopped my words midway, having a flashback of when Yoongi sparked his own drug and blew the hot steam onto my back, the memory forever engraved onto the ripples of my thoughts and skin. At those words, I looked into his eyes the realization setting in, that he was in fact a drug lord. But something like that never really mattered to me, I feel safe with Yoongi in more ways than one.

"The second sentence that I also know you read was the one that told you you have to follow my household rules, sexually."

That's when my stomach lines with anticipation, everything being new and crisp to my mind and body.

"I always want you to know, that you will never be taken advantage of or bruised emotionally or physically, I'm not that type of man."

I nod my head and relax my shoulders, easing away the stress in my eyes and being replaced by comfort. His own eyes release the hints of concern and he continues.

"There's not many rules, I don't care much for control. But the rules that do exist are simple and if broken, you will be punished accordingly to the rule that had been unkept.
Rule one is that in any way, shape, or form, you cannot masturbate or touch yourself, only I can be the one to give you pleasure."

The crimson on my face could beat any dark shade of red, and I feel my mind hint with humor at a remark that I foolishly blurt out in a mumble.

"Well, there goes the vibrator I packed."

His fist tightens and my Insides swirl from the stupidity and immense embarrassment of my words. I see him close his eyes, as if trying to contain something inside of himself and my eyes squint in concentration of what he's attempting to hide. He opens his eyes and stares right at me, the brown inside his irises seem to have been overtaken by a thick black and I mentally shake it off. His warning I don't miss, and makes me shrink into my chair like a scrutinized child for being bad.

"Careful, the next rule is that if you disrespect or test me verbally in public or alone, you will be disciplined."

I can't help but wonder what that means, so I ask.

"Disciplined?"

"Yes, disciplined. I would tell you in what ways, so I can make your blush spread across your body, but I'm not that cruel. Instead, I'll let you find out for yourself."

Damn, he's really making me frustrated and helpless at the same time. So many emotions clouding my mind and faint whispers in the back of my head tell me to break these rules in the future out of pure curiosity, but my rationality is more apparent at the moment and I ignore it.

"The final rule, is the most precious to me. Your safety won't be broken in intimate moments, but if you ever find yourself not able to handle something, then you will tell me. I don't care if it's embarrassing, I don't care about anything. Just make sure to tell me if your scared and I'll stop and comfort you with reassurance."

That's when my thoughts entangle uncontrollably, I find my hands sweating with happiness from his kindness and loud dominance.

"Why would I be scared?"

He sighs his chest hollowing out for a brief moment. Yoongi looks as if a million people are suggesting different and opposing opinions and he darts his tongue out to swiftly lick his puffy lips in defeat.

"Just know, that whatever you see, I'll never hurt you."

I'm so perplexed at this point I try to blurt out a question to ask why, but I can't seem to form words when I see him stand up and take off his shirt. His milky skin shines in the sunset, the blue and purple hues reflecting onto his skin beautifully creating small detailed flowers. I see his muscles start to ripple and he squints his eyes hard onto mine, focusing and staring. I hear ruffles and lean black wings raise up and unfold from his body, looking over his figure complimenting it in the most odd and pleasant ways. My jaw goes slack and my eyes widen incredulously in denial. But stuff like this I've always secretly loved. Across his chest and curving up onto his cheekbone, I see intricate detail, resembling somewhat of a tattoo, but I know that the imprints and lines traveling through his skin and connecting to his blood, that this was more than just ink. So I let my curiosity shine brighter when I see his agony from panic at my reaction under his skin. He opens his mouth, looking almost afraid to touch me in my state and I notice his teeth carved to rigid but smooth points.

I can't take it anymore.

"Wh-what are you?"

It's only the nervousness that notches my vocal chords faintly. He lowers his jet black wings so they rest behind his back like in art masterpieces, and everyone thought the artists were insane. The mystery oozes off of him and eases into my skin eerily and I can't help but love the satisfaction of uncertainty I feel. The black feathers reflect the mixed hues of what's left of the sunlight like the skin of a crow and my eyes bend themselves into every crevice and beautiful curve.

"Let's just say, I'm familiar with hell."

That's what it all clicks in place.

The old news and mad gossip stories of the famous Min Yoongi. Often takes of horror, how he unexplainably tore his enemies to shreds, literally. Every amateur drug lords dream to be as powerful and feared as the known man. Not only is his product inseparable and of the finest taste, but his stamina in a fight was practically inhuman.

And that's exactly what he wasn't.

Human.