I'm going to try something a little different with this one. Instead of making a full smut, I'm just doing an implied smut based off a song: Animals by Nickelback. And... Yoongi is a real life low-key gangster/criminal
Yoongi's P.O.V.
'I, I'm driving black on black
Just got my license back
I got this feeling in my veins this train is coming off the track
I'll ask polite if the devil needs a ride
Because the angel on my right ain't hangin' out with me tonight'
I can't believe this shit. Fuck my life. All I wanted was to come home to my gorgeous baby girl after another gang fight. I know, I know. 'Gang fight?' is what you're thinking. 'How did the famous Suga go from pure boy-band rapper to badass gangster?' Honestly, I can't even answer that question. After the band split, we all went our separate ways and got our own lives. Mine just happened to be one that involved daily problems with the law.
"Sir, can you please step out of the car?" It wasn't a question, so much as a demand. I flashed the policeman a nice smile, attempting innocence to get out of here quicker.
"Sure, officer. Is there a problem?" I asked carefully while stepping out of my car. I'm guessing the way I was dressed—baggy jeans, large t-shirt, bandana, messy hair, and many piercings and chains—probably wasn't going to be my safest bet for being unsuspected of anything.
"Unfortunately, soldier, there is. I'm afraid I'm going to have to arrest you."
"For what, may I ask?" The cop just looked at me.
"Sure are mouthy, aren't ya, buddy?" he asked rhetorically. "Do you know how fast you were going, son?"
"About 45. Well within the speed limit, officer," I pointed out kindly.
"Yes, I know. But, did you happen to notice that you are in a suburban area? You were playing your music pretty loud, kid. Not to mention your flamboyant choice of clothing is disturbing to the public. I'm going to have to see your license and registration."
"Of course, officer." I pull out my wallet and hand it to the cop. He takes it and his eyes widen almost immediately. "Is there something wrong, sir?" He doesn't respond or even acknowledge the fact that I spoke to him. He slides his eyes away from my card for a moment to look at me and back to the license.
"No fuckin' way. Shi-bal. If it isn't the devil himself, Min Yoongi."
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"You know, it's kind of depressing that you don't even remember your own eomma." 'wtf?' This guy is clearly not my mom. Then I remember something.
"Daebak! Seokjin-hyung?! I should've known, you nagging bastard. I had a feeling your job would be something that let you yell at people. I mean your skills are pretty much limited to criticizing and cooking."
"I could say the exact opposite for you. I thought you'd be like a bartender or writer or something. But a criminal, Yoongi? Jinjja? I'm disappointed in you."
"I'm not a criminal, hyung."
"Then what are you?"
"... A gangster..."
"And?" Aw, shit. He knew me too well.
"And... and a... a stripper..." He laughed at me and I almost slapped him.
"I knew it! Hoseok owes me fifty bucks!" I glared at him because there wasn't anything else I could do.
"That's real nice, Jin, but I hope you don't mind letting me go? I kinda need to go pick up my girlfriend if that's okay with you."
YOU ARE READING
BTS SMUT AND FLUFF IMAGINES (REQUESTS OPEN)
FanfictionThe chapters start off kinda crappy and get better as they go. I originally wrote this on Quotev, then added it to AO3, and thought: why not put it here, too? Requests are open and encouraged!
