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#bts mafia aus
Our Little Love part eight - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
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Mr Kim has a chapter all to himself of 6.8K words, please enjoy and PLEASE let me know what you think. Trigger warnings: manipulation, coercion, corruption, interrogation, mentions of murder and other crimes, swearing, jealousy, possessive yandere behaviour, fingering, orgasm denial, mirror sex, light choking. I am awful with warnings, please forgive me.
Namjoon wasn’t all that impressed with seeing the Chief of police visiting his cell, the syndicate boss was dressed too well to belong there, it was almost an eyesore. A glance to the camera, the normal red blinking light absent tells him all he needs to know. There were no eyes or ears to this conversation. 
“I thought I paid you to keep your men in line,” Namjoon says in lieu of greeting. “Was a bullet to the knee not warning enough for your dear Captain?”
“He wasn’t an issue when I spoke to him, the man was on leave!” the chief replied. “Your girl was the problem he-”
“Be very careful how you finish that sentence,” he advised with a deep angry rumble from his chest. “I am well aware who is at fault here, and regardless of what our little love does, she is never to blame.”
Chief Lee Soo-man only nods once, biting back his complaints.
“I asked you to sort out Kim Suho, I told you to keep him in check,” Namjoon growls. “Keeping your pockets full isn’t an act of charity Lee, it’s a purchase. I own you.”
“Yes sir,” he mumbles in response. “I assure you this arrest is just a formality, the case won’t stand once it’s revealed Detective L/n-”
The glare the man in the blazerless three piece suit gave him was enough to stop him in his tracks. Right, he couldn’t involve you in this, that was going to make things harder than they needed to be.
“What do you recommend then sir?” he asks when he finds his voice and wavering courage. 
Namjoon sighs harshly, and the Chief swears he can almost see smoke. 
“I want to be alone with my little love,” it’s not a request, the chief didn’t let the soft lilt of his fool him. 
“I don’t know how that would be poss-”
“I want-” Namjoon cuts in, unable to bear another second of this blithering idiot, “her to be the one to interrogate me. And I can trust you understand the rest.”
“Y-yessssir,” he stutters, not completely hearing the words between the lines, and that was clear enough on his face. 
“I want her alone, Sooman,” Namjoon repeats himself, if this were one of his men he would never have needed to. “I don’t want a single soul witness to what I’m going to do to her.”
Suho tugs you along by the arm, stumbling in his urgent pace, pulling you out of ear shot.
“We have a problem.”
“What problem?”
“I’m technically on health leave, brass says I can’t interrogate him,” he stares a hole into you as if his eyes were telling you the rest but you couldn’t understand.
“Okay so who’s replacing you?”
He huffs out a breath of air from his nose, knowing you weren’t going to like the command from way over his head.
Your heart beats hard in anticipation, why was he looking at you like that?
“As far as Brass are aware you were deep undercover,” Suho informs you slowly, deliberately, looking like he was about to tear your world to trash. He sighs, unable to get the words out.
“Suho what?”
“They want you to interrogate him,” he breathes, you think you’ve misheard him, but you know you haven’t.
Your world spins, you’re already shaking your head.
“I can’t,” you whisper, he knows full well that you can’t. “I resigned, I’m not a detective anymore.”
He sighs again, hesitation in his eyes. 
“I never processed it,” he confesses.
“Y-you di-”
“I couldn’t, I knew you would see reason, I knew you would come back,” he doesn’t let you process the shock, explaining himself quickly. 
“Suho I can’t I can’t,” you beg, the conviction you had to punish them now suddenly taking a back seat as fear overtakes you, “right now they believe I was deep undercover but he’s not going to let that-“
“Listen to me,” he interrupts you before you can fully submerge into a panic attack, taking your hand in his. “I’m going to be in the next room, as soon as he says anything that compromises you, I’ll turn off the cameras, okay?”
“But-“
You’re interrupted again when the door opens, both of you whipping your heads to see him being transferred by four officers to the interrogation room. His eyes find you, staring stoic holes into you before his gaze finds Suho’s hands comforting yours. The snarl of displeasure is brief but you definitely see it, and you can’t breathe.
Suho draws your attention back to him, tugging your hand softly.
“Do you trust me Y/n?” he implores you, eyes searching yours in a way that made Namjoon want to strangle him with the chains on his handcuffs. You look up at your Captain with such light in your eyes, a way you should never look at another man, and then you have the audacity to nod. 
You’ve done this a hundred times, if not more. So why were you hesitating at the door? Your hand on the handle, all you had to do was turn it and face the music but you couldn’t even manage finding your breath. 
Interrogation was a science, it was like riding a bike, you knew what you had to do, you had to command the room. It almost sounded like a joke, the worst one you’d ever heard. Command a room when Kim Namjoon was in it? 
The thought makes you hyperventilate. No, it wasn’t going to be easy but you could control what you could. You borrowed clothes from an old colleague, a skirt and blouse, simple but professional. Suho’s old blazer too, as if layers would protect you. You had splashed water on your face in the bathroom, using makeup from evidence to make yourself look presentable, composed. Your impromptu freshening up had meant you left the syndicate leader waiting for a long time, and it absolutely 100% was not because you were trying to kill time, it was to make him stew in the room, a technique you had used multiple times prev- who were you trying to convince? 
You needed to get this over with. 
Your face is impassive when you finally open the door, his gaze is on you immediately and you can feel a certain type of guilt and shame try to seep its way into you, but you push it down far enough that you can pretend it’s not there.
“Mr Kim Namjoon,” you greet him stoically.
“Detective L/n,” he returns, playing along with a small smile, as if seeing an old acquaintance after a long time. The way he addressed you shouldn’t cut you, logically it made no sense not when you’re the one that got him in the box, but it did. 
You approach the table he’s chained to, looking at the wood instead of his eyes as if he didn’t matter, or at least that’s how you wanted it perceived. Avoiding eye contact with the most dangerous man the whole country had ever come to know, meant you missed the way his stare moved to your clothes, particularly your blazer, recognising it was a man’s, and he could confidently guess exactly who it belonged to. Any friendliness on his face disappeared, he wanted to play games and now he just wanted to torture you a little, punish you for you actions. Patience, he tells himself, that would come later.
The file in your hands slaps the table as you throw it down, taking a seat opposite your boyfriend, a man you now convinced yourself you wanted behind bars. 
What do they say about a woman scorned? Namjoon thinks to himself, admiring the fire he could see burning underneath your skin, and though he knew he would feel the burn, he would welcome it. It was no secret that he had a fantasy about you interrogating him, he introduced the role play to the bedroom soon after your return to them but it lacked the flames of heat he could feel today. 
“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” you reply. “My name is detective Y/n L/n, I’ve been undercover at your… establishment for the past year and a half.”
“Is that right?” he barely suppressed his amusement but it didn’t phase you. Your professional head was on, this was just another criminal you had to put away, that was it. 
You open the file, sliding out photos of him that you had sent in as intel in your early days undercover as well as surveillance photos that Suho had taken since you were MIA. 
“Do you know who this man is Mr Kim,” you say, sliding the first of the photos to him.
“Can’t say I do detective,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not even glancing away from you. 
“Do you want to try looking at his face first before you answer,” you insisted unimpressed. 
He smiles, still staring at you. 
“I don’t recognise him,” he repeats himself slowly. 
“So this isn’t you in the photo?” You ask.
“I don’t know,” his grin only grows.
“This man, Jackson Wang, is dead, and the last person who saw him alive seems to have been you Mr Kim, at least based on the time stamp on this photo and the time of death from the post mortem.”
“Is that right,” he says again, sounding like a broken record. His eyes swim with admiration for you, you can see it though you can’t understand it at all with the current scene. Why wasn’t he fuming, why wasn’t he demanding an answer or explanation?
“Okay let's cut the crap since I know you’re far too clever for that Mr Kim,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. “I have gathered evidence of your crimes from the last 18 months, and I will stand in court as a witness against you.”
“Are you allowed to do that little love?” he asks, the name has a pang of panic hit you, but you tell yourself you can explain it away to brass.
“The charges you're facing so far are murder, battery, and grand larceny to name a few,” you state ignoring him, flicking through the photos, throwing each one in front of him. “There are many more to follow.”
“I didn’t know partners could testify against each other,” he mused, smirk still strong on his face.
“I’m not your partner,” you object. “I was undercover.”
“No,” he contends, shaking his head like this was just a game to him. “You can’t fake a love like ours, heaven.”
You almost snort as if his point was ridiculous.
“I don’t think I could ever love someone like you Mr Kim,” your stare was ice cold, that finally wipes the smile off his face. 
“You’re angry,” he states as if it was new information for you. “I get that little love, but this is a bit too much, don’t you think?”
“I think justice needs to be served, don't you?” you sneered. “People got hurt, some people died, someone needs to pay.”
“You and I both know they deserved it,” he declares as if there wasn’t a camera recording his confession. “You’re just angry because I stepped on a bug.”
Utter rage brewed like a storm in your chest, and you wanted the downpour to drown him. 
“You sound like you’re ready to sign the confession Mr Kim,” you don’t break your stare. “That’s great, saves us a lot of time, thank you.”
You close the file, pushing the chair back to stand. 
“I’m not done with you,” he growled.
“But I’m done with you.” 
“Y/n sit,” he commands calmly, composing himself. “Throwing a fit isn’t going to fix things.”
“Throwing a fit?” The audacity of this man, you stand there in shock. 
“Let’s talk it through,” he says to you as if you were being hysterical. 
“Fuck you,” you spit. 
“Talk to me Y/n,” he scolded you like you were a child. “Without this bullshit.”
“Fine! You wanna talk about it Namjoon,” you snapped, taking the seat again, throwing the file haphazardly on the desk. “Let’s talk about it.”
The glare you present him with doesn’t make him flinch, it doesn’t phase him. You hope Suho had enough sense to turn the cameras off by now, this would go nowhere. 
“You manipulated me, you lied to me, you made me play the fool.”
He didn’t react, not a single muscle on his face moved and it fanned whatever flame explode inside of you like a bomb. This was his true colours underneath the mask of love and adoration he created for you.
“You don’t have to pretend anymore Namjoon I can see right through you,” you state. “And you are never touching me again.”
That made him look at you, really look at you, something shifted in his gaze, a slight smirk as if he was mocking you.
You could cry kick and scream about the injustice he put you through in the name of this fucked up love and he wouldn’t flinch. He would sit there and watch and then the fucker would have the audacity to laugh afterwards. He must’ve laughed at how stupid you were in trusting him when he lied.
“At least if you go to prison, I’ll finally be free,” you whisper like it’s a life line.
He’s still unmoved, sitting there as if you were invisible and it irked the fuck out of you. He was the one who wanted to talk, why the fuck was he silent now? 
You wanted him to hurt you wanted him to feel an ounce of what you did in the light of his betrayal. He tore your heart out and you weren’t going to forgive him.
“I must’ve looked so pathetic,” you say in a self deprecating tone, looking at the ceiling as if someone could answer you. “Suho was right.”
That comment makes his blood boil hard enough to show on his face. There it was, the reaction you were waiting for and you took the bait without thinking about what you were trying to catch or what you were trapped with.
“I should’ve trusted him, he’s always had my back and my best interest at heart.”
His jaw clenches, a fist squeezing nothing but air although he probably wished it was the captain's neck.
“Kai and Suho are all I have left,” you goad him, unsure of what exactly it was that you wanted to prove. “And finally I’m back where I belong.”
“If you don’t want a bullet in each of their heads, you need to stop talking love,” he grunts through gritted teeth.
Something inside of you felt vindicated and you realise then what you wanted from him, proof he fucking cared, that you weren’t some pawn or prize in this game of crime. You wanted him to soothe the very cuts he caused, or rip your heart out hard enough that you could bleed him out of your system forever.
“Oh please Namjoon, just admit why you kept me around for so long,” you scoff. “I can only imagine how it felt to have the lead detective on your case in the palm of your hands, like a trophy, a big fuck you to the justice system.”
You laugh sounding a little maniacal.
“You had me, and I fell for all of it.”
“You’re forgetting I didn’t know your true origins at first little love,” his low voice is a warning, he looks at you like he needed to remind you who you belonged to.
“And you’re forgetting I know you,” you bite back. “Any hint of betrayal and you pull the trigger first and ask questions later.”
He stares at you, grimacing.
“And yet here I am, alive.”
“Because I love you,” he says it so casually it throws you off, like it was a fundamental part of his being, like breathing.
“Because you saw an opportunity,” you rationalise.
“Because I could never lose you,” he confesses. “You could rip out my heart, little love and I would still want you, why else would I be here?”
You frown, what did he mean? He was here because you paid an eye for an eye, you betrayed him.
“What’s done is done,” you say as if you were unconcerned. “I will testify against you.”
He leans closer across the table, words for your ears only.
“Do you think you’ll be able to handle seeing Jungkook in prison, love?” Namjoon whispers. “Knowing you put him there? It would kill you.”
The pain his words brought forth only proved them to be true. You did have a soft spot for the youngest, always had. You break eye contact first, looking down at the file and turning back and forth a page as if in contemplation but really to cool your nerves.
Were you really doing this? Sending Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Tae and Kookie to jail because of an angry outburst? Now your emotions had time to settle after the bomb that exploded when you saw Suho; you weren’t so sure.
“I never thought you could betray us like this,” he says solemnly, continuing to manipulate your guilt, but he forgot about your fire. He could almost see the coals ignite in your eyes, a misstep on his part, one he realised when a snarl forms on your lips.
“You. Lied.” You state ferociously. “I asked you if you hurt him and you lied to me.”
“So you decided to have us all arrested,” he continues, “for a man you stated you didn’t care about like that.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethe, unable to sit with him any longer, pacing the room before you raised a finger to his face. “You played me like a fool Namjoon, and I refuse to play the part anymore.”
“I wanted him dead, little love,” he states in a low voice through gritted teeth. “Do you understand what a mercy-”
“I asked you not to hurt him!”
“Then you underestimated our wrath!” he retorted. “I couldn’t let him go in one piece, and you didn’t need to know.”
“No. You underestimated MY wrath Kim Namjoon!” You burst, slamming the desk with your hand, the sting burning, your face heating more and more with rage as it concealed your heartache. “I am not some docile doll for you to play with, and manipulate and LIE TO! You took my love for granted when it was a damn fucking privilege.”
Your chest heaves with each breath, he stayed composed while you looked like a wild animal finally let out of her cage.
“You think this obsession is love,” your voice broke at the last word, the floods of heartbreak dampening the fires. “And I did too, but it’s fucked up everything.”
His silence was eating you alive, his face giving nothing of his heart away while yours laid bare out between you.
“You know what I’m done,” you breathe, “have fun rotting in jail Namjoon.”
Tears drop out of the corner of your eyes as you walk away, his piercing gaze doing nothing to deter you. He might’ve had power over you once but that was before he betrayed you. You reach for the door handle, tugging, ready to leave him behind until his trial, but the door doesn’t budge. You still, mind blank for a second before panic overwhelms you. You try again with all your might, pulling as hard as you can over and over before releasing your grip with a harsh breath. You take a gulp, calming yourself, he planned this.
You’re not surprised when you hear the sound of the handcuffs undo or the chains hit the floor. Fucking bastard. An alarm started blaring in the building, loud and overwhelming, but it came too late. Red lights flash, the room glowing as if warning you about the oncoming danger.
“Are we done with your outburst little love,” he says coldly, like your grievances were nothing more than a tantrum.
You turn to face him slowly, more tears dropping without a sound, shaking your head at the way his words cut you down to nothing.
When he stands from the seat your heart gallops with fear and panic. Although it’s helpless you turn back to the door, trying with all your might to open it and escape him. The fire alarm blaring does nothing to ease you, you hang onto the door as you feel him approach, tears falling out of your eyes without control.
Fuck, you were stuck here with the man you sent to jail, you were left to his mercy. His presence looms over you, you can feel him a hair's width behind you, not touching you, not really, but he’s so close it’s overwhelming.
It’s when you feel his breath you freeze, your body shutting down with dread. He presses his cheek to your hair, inhaling you softly. The action makes you jolt away, turning to the side but he grabs your wrist tightly. You don’t look at him, you stare into the two way mirror, your cheeks pathetically wet. You were supposed to hold the power in this room, but you could feel it dwindle away to nothing but smoke.
You’re slammed against the door hard, a whimper escaping your lips as your eyes scrunched in pain. You miss the flash of guilt in his eyes, realising he pushed you too hard. An apology on his lips but the glare when your eyes open stops him. He’s seen anger in your eyes before, hate even, for he knew love didn’t come without it. But fear? Never of him, not even in the days when you were undercover and your life was one unveiled secret away from ending. 
“Get away from me,” you seethe, meaning every word, even when you saw the hurt in his eyes. 
Regret, Kim Namjoon never knew the feeling before, but he knew he never wanted you to look at him the way you were. He needed to keep his calm, one wrong push and you would tear him out of your own heart.
Your eyes fly all over the room, trying to piece together a way to gain some distance. Suho… maybe he was still behind the glass. You tug your wrist as hard as you can, taking steps away from him but his hold is relentless. The blare of the alarm stops ringing but the flashing red lights remain, staining the walls like blood pumping.
“Little lo-“ he starts to say with a sigh, he was being patient but there was only so much time left.
“Suho?” You call desperately trying to look through the glass. You know you’ve made a mistake before you even said his name but fear drives people to do stupid things without thinking.
The most notorious criminal in all of Seoul pulls you back against his chest hard. An arm wraps around your waist, the unforgiving grip on your wrist turning lethal. He rests his chin on your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror. The hairs on your skin stood on end at the frightening change in his eyes, danger rolled off of him and you had no choice but to take every wave.
“Do you think he’s there, love?” The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk that makes you think of a snake, the saccharine tone of his voice hypnotising. “Do you think he’s watching us?”
The palm on your hip moves down to your thigh, he squeezes the flesh. You could feel your heart jumping in your throat.
“Should we give him something to watch?” He murmurs seductively, turning his head to bring his lips so close to your neck. The bruising clutch on your wrist is gone only to find its way to your hair, yanking it back to give himself better access.
Your eyes in the mirror are begging but the inner turmoil from his touch is making you question what exactly you’re asking for. Reason tells you it’s for Suho to save you, to grant you escape, but the way you feel a familiar heat swim to your core has you doubting yourself.
“If he was in there,” he whispers, his lips now on your ear, “don’t you think he’d come in here and try to take you from me, love?”
He chuckles to himself, a joke only he can understand.
“Fuck I’d love to see him try.”
His groan has you aching, your body relapsing to what it knows, anticipating the pleasure and pain only they could provide. 
​​“I’m not mad at you for having us arrested, heaven,” he whispers in your ear, gaze softening for a second in the mirror lulling you into a sense of security you couldn’t tell if it was a trap. “In fact I’m a little in awe, a little proud.”
The smirk he gives you seems genuine.
“We deserved it I know,” reassurance fills his voice, he wants you to hear his sincerity. “What I’m mad about, little love…”
The softness is gone, eyes turn piercing, the proverbial snake about to strike.
“Is the fact you let another man touch what’s mine.”
The guttural rumble of his possessive claim sent waves of need down to your cunt, you could feel it pulsing. 
“I’m mine,” you return meekly, trying to find your resolve, but it sounded like a whine.
“Make no mistake Y/n, you’re always going to be mine.”
You didn’t have it in you to argue, not when he sent your eyes rolling back and a shiver down your spine. Fuck he hadn’t even touched you yet, maybe it was true, maybe a part of you would always belong to them, but that didn’t mean all if you did.
“Look at me,” he commands, his breath hitting your neck.
Your blown out eyes meet him in the mirror, that predatory but protective gaze piercing through you. He hums in approval the deep vibration fucking with your senses, making you hazy. 
You both hold eye contact even when you can see the fingers on your thigh stroke soothing circles up your skin. Your lips part with a harsh breath when they rub your mound through the fabric of your panties, the touch light and testing and not nearly enough. 
“You’re fucking soaking wet baby,” he calls you out with a grin.
You grab his wrist when his fingers cup your heat, his thumb soothing circles on your clit. You press against him, the warmth of his chest enveloping your back. You both fit so well together, you were forgetting why exactly you were so angry at him, but simmers of it still remained even through his touch. 
“You know,” he says, opening your leg with his knee to give him more access, “a lot of couples fuck through their problems, should we try?”
He hides his grin, burying his head in you but you can feel it against your skin, the arrogant asshole. 
“You can go and fuck yourself,” you sassed back, lying to yourself that you could be fine if he stopped now, that it wouldn’t leave you a needy mess. 
“But I’d rather fuck you,” he chuckles, breathing you in, savouring the moment while his fingers slide the fabric aside. 
You choke back a moan at the contact of his skin right where you wanted him, the way he spread your wetness until every inch of you was covered in it. 
“You can pretend to regret our relationship all you want, but this,” he emphasises his point by slapping your cunt hard, making you gasp, “still wants me.”
“It wants to get fucked,” you spitefully remark through gritted teeth, “doesn’t have to be you.”
That makes him pause, and you have to bite back the words of displeasure. 
“You’ll pay for that next time love,” he murmurs dangerously. 
“There won’t be a next time,” you try to ridicule him through a laugh but his fingers circle your entrance. 
“You’re lying,” he hums, “next time, I think we should tie you down, make you watch other women touch us in ways only you’re allowed to.”
You bury the fury that ruptures at the image, clenching your jaw to keep from swearing at him and proving the point he was trying to make.
“Maybe then you’d have a semblance of understanding of what you did- the torture you put us through.”
“I wouldn’t care,” you breathe, squirming against his fingers, he needed to shut up and move.
“Liar,” he chuckles knowingly, seeing right through you. Before you, there were many females in his organisation, until his little love demanded he get rid of them all. The memory stretches his grin wider. 
“Why the fuck was it me?” You whisper, your eyes starting to water at the vulnerability of your tone, remembering the same moment he was. “When I went undercover there were so many beautiful women-“
“They’re not you, little love, don’t for a second compare yourself to them,” he kisses your temple softly in reassurance. His face is in your hair, his hand on your throat as you preen to his touch. “You were sweet and addicting with a fire you were trying so desperately to contain.”
He thrusts two fingers in gently, watching your face contort in want in the mirror, smiling at the way your eyes rolled back. You whimper when he squeezes his grip on your neck.
“To think that passion we saw in your eyes was hatred at first,” he smiles as if amused, watching every little reaction you gave him, every proof of love.
“I did,” you confess, pressing your ass against his hard length and making him groan, “I hated you.”
“You were sent to destroy us, love, but instead you reached into our souls and thought there was something worth saving,” he chuckled, nuzzling into you softly as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside of you, feeling every part he knew so well. “And save us you did, it was so dark before you our little light, how could we ever let you leave?”
“You’re fucking with my head,” you whimper, head falling back to his chest, it rumbles when he laughs.
“Hmmm? I’m definitely fucking your brains out today Y/n,” he promises with a chuckle, kissing your temple again, but emphasising his point when he scissors his fingers reading you for his cock. “If that’s what you mean.”
This was your fault, you knew what you were getting into when you fell for them. You especially knew Namjoon was the worst of them all. You let his soft side brush away his true nature, and while you never forgot his ruthless persona, you put it to the back of your mind. You foolishly thought you had tamed his cunning cold cruel- 
“Oh fuck,” whatever train of thought you had died, the palm of his hand rubbing your clit, stimulating your already aching cunt to the edge. Your parted lips open wider to release a silent scream, his fingers stroking so deep.
You were so close, you could taste it, unable to control the delirious sounds escaping you. So when he stops and slips his fingers away from you, you have to stop yourself screaming in protest. 
“Up against the mirror Y/n,” he commands gruffly, but you don’t move, you were so fucking close. Fuck him, fucking asshole, you were so fucking close. 
He picks you up with ease, pushing you against the wall so your breath fogs the surface. You hear the zip pull down, your forehead falls forward, your core pulsing in anticipation. He grabs your leg, opening you for him, the head of his cock sliding across your folds until you're whining.
“Stop squirming love,” he warns, but you don’t listen, of course you don’t, so he makes you listen. 
The sound you release when he slaps your clit with his hard dick over and over has him questioning his restraint, fuck he wants to just pound into you but you needed to be taught a fucking lesson. 
“Joonie sensitive,” you whine, but he’s relentless, making you cry out over and over. Fuck you could actually maybe cum like this. 
His self control wavers, his jaw clenched with such a force he thinks it’ll shatter. He couldn’t take it anymore, the swell of his head finds your entrance. Inch by inch, he relishes the feeling of your walls hugging him so fucking tight, the pulse of them pulling him in. He leans over you, trying to regain composure but you feel so good he doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay like this forever, inside of you where he belongs. 
You try to push back into him, but he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you still, grinding his hips against you and he knows it’s not enough. 
“Look at you arching your back little love,” he smirks, “Your body knows where you belong, it’s a shame you tried to take it away from me.”
Your hands ball into fists on the mirror, you can’t even look at yourself right now, you can’t stop writhing on the surface, trying so hard to get him to move. You squeeze him hard, making his head fall against you with a grunt. 
“Behave little love,” he warns, “or I’ll show your colleagues just how well you can take me.”
“Make me,” you dare him even though it comes out as a mumble. 
You were dizzy and disorientated and all you wanted was for him to fucking move. He pushes you against the wall hard, every inch of him covering you so you couldn’t budge. You whine, the cold of the hard surface making you seek his warm body, you slot against him like a damn puzzle piece. He was hell bent on torturing you today, as if you hadn’t suffered enough. 
“Joonie move,” you almost sound like a brat, trying to order him around. 
“I’ll move when I’m ready,” he growls animalistically, barely holding himself back, but he needed to savour this.
You do everything you can to break his control, writhing against him like a bitch in heat. He swallows hard when you clench again. He spanks your ass hard in return, the air gets thicker, you find it harder to breathe. You keep still, the sting of your ass satisfying your craving for a moment, but not for long. 
He picks up your skirt, watching himself inside you, watching the beautiful mess you were making. So wet, so perfect, how did you ever think for a second he would ever let this go? The sight is too much, he releases a restrained groan, done with holding himself back. 
His hand grips your cheeks, turning your mouth to his, forcing his tongue down your throat as he finally pulls out only to push back in impossibly deeper. You took every punishing thrust, his presence surrounding you everywhere, even in front of you where his reflection painted the surface. He smothered you with his existence, the heat of him scolding, but you liked it, you craved it. 
“Do you think your ‘friend’ understands who you fucking belong to now detective L/n?” He chuckles deeply watching your fucked out face in the mirror.
He uses his grip under your knee to turn you towards the camera in the corner of the room.
“Think they can all see little love?” He pants. “How well you fucking take it? How good you are for me?”
You shake your head in protest but it feels too good. Your head falls back on him without the mirror to lean against. His fingers find your clit, his sole purpose to make you lose yourself to him. 
“Fuck look at you shaking baby,” he groans, feeling you pulse around him, drawing closer to the edge. “Your poor pussy just needs to come huh?”
You can hear the smirk in his tone, fucking self satisfied prick. 
“Not as badly as you need it,” you taunt back, feeling your defiance flare despite how your body was begging you to behave.. 
“Fuck you might be right,” he groans, going harder, faster. “I’m always going to need it.”
His confession takes you over, the words pushing you so hard you come apart violently, thrashing against him as you unravel, but he holds you tight. He doesn’t let you fall. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all you could feel was him and the burst of pleasure that carried on wave after wave, and you never wanted it to stop.
“This is mine,” he grunts as he comes undone inside of you, fucking his cum deeper until it got through to your soul. 
He was a part of you, and you could try to deny it now with his mistakes on the table, but he was so embedded in the fabric of you he couldn’t see where he began and where you ended. His entire existence was for you, it was only fair your cunt, body and soul belonged to him. Maybe the others too, as an afterthought, but you were his first.
He feels the mess slide out of you as he leaves your warmth, turning you softly so you could lean against him as you catch your breath. He holds you tight, arn arm around your middle like the steel of a bar. He has every intention of letting you recover but the way you look up at him with those glossy eyes confirms the fact he will never be satiated, he will always want more of you even if there was nothing left to give. 
“Our little love,” he breathes in your face, stealing a hard kiss, “our little downfall.”
His mouth held you prisoner again and again, humming pleasantly as you let him devour you in so many ways. His kiss was bruising, hungry, overindulging.
Your eyes search his as he parts reluctantly, your mind still hazy, the bliss of sex still circulating your body.
“Why did you lie to me?” You whisper breathlessly against his lips as you come down, and he can hear the vulnerability in your tone, it makes a guilt spread across his chest that feels almost alien. The way you could make him ache like no one else, he should cast you aside for introducing a weakness in him but he wouldn’t even dream of it.
“I didn’t want to lose you,” he confesses sincerely. “I didn’t want you to hate me.”
“I asked you not to hurt him,” your eyes tear up again, and he curses himself and the existence of Kim Suho.
“I know.”
“But you did it anyway,” you continue, “and then you had the gall to lie to my face.”
You wipe away the tears that fall harshly, your mind clearing. You push him away and fix yourself up, knowing from the glances in the mirror you were a mess.
“You always own up to your actions, right or wrong, you never hide them,” you laugh and you think you must sound psychotic. “The Kim Namjoon… I remember the days you would drop dead bodies in front of me without remorse, without ever feeling the need to explain yourself.”
“I was testing you then,” he grunts, remembering those days well. “I needed to know you had the stomach to be with us.”
“I hated you so much,” you confess, swallowing down a sob. “And for the first time since I fell in love with you Joonie, I can feel that hate grow again.”
His jaw clenches, his fist too. He could feel a threat on the tip of his lips, one where the Captain's head would end up on a plate in front of you for dinner but he holds himself back.
“You don’t mean that,” he says between gritted teeth.
“I had you fucking arrested Namjoon,” you argue back fiercely. “Don't tell me what I mean or don’t mean.”
“You also fucked me after the fact,” he states and the harsh words slap you hard. You did. You let him defile you here only moments ago.
“Old habits die hard.”
“Not with me love,” he dismisses the thought. “Not as long as I’m alive.”
“We’ll see,” you challenge, feeling that earlier conviction rise. 
“Understand something Y/n,” he says seriously, his face solemn and hard in a way you had witnessed rarely. This was Kim Namjoon with something to lose. “You can run, you can fight, you can hate me if you need to, but there isn’t a life worth living for us without you in it.”
He takes his seat back in the interrogation chair, putting his handcuffs back on with ease, all while keeping his eye contact with you. 
“You want me here, you want to punish me,” he continues, “fine, this where I’ll stay until you’re appeased, until you forgive me.”
“I won’t,” you deny, shaking your head. 
“You will.”
552 notes · View notes
hobicakess · 26 days
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RED CHOPSTICKS | 2
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SUMMARY: . The Min Brothers were fucking insane
PAIRING: Ganster!yoongi x reader / Law enforcement!AugustD x fem! reader
RATING: 18+ (I am not a babysitter. You're in control of what you consume)
CONTENT WARNING: porn with HELLA plot   violence, plus sized reader , afro asian reader , dead bodies , blood , slight gore mention, stalking , twin rivalry , yandere, heavy angst, nonconsensual recording + photo taking , death threats towards innocent people, cheating, mc is very ... not smart! ( for the plot ofc ) , gang violence, reader not having a great relationship with law enforcement, reader has a criminal record ( don't we all? ) , murder , character death, guns, kidnapping ( kind of ) , e2l ( more like fuck buddies ) , hints to a robbery, SMUT hate fucking , clit / coochie smacking , bondage with a tie , overstimulation , degradation , gagging, car sex , bratty reader , dom!augustd , sub!reader , spanking , biting , spit mention, i hope that's all.
TAG LIST : @kooliv @princxssly82 @btsw1fe @princess-sunshyn @goldenmidnight @borahaerhy @itzz-me-duh @akiiron @thisladysperspective @kooliv @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop @jenniexjenny @bashbri @cherryjenie
A/N: this is my longest fic ive ever written! the amount of times ive scraped this and rewrote it should be illegal. i honestly didn't see it becoming this big all i wanted was for me to hunch the police 🫤 WELL HERE WE ARE NOW!!!
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Looking a man in the eye and shooting him dead was never on your bucket list of things to do. You always wanted to go to Hawaii and lounge around in a tropical setting, or a picnic in front of the Eiffel Tower but you simply weren't normal enough for that.
You were at your mailbox boredly flicking through the bills and useless advertised telegrams when a bright yellow envelope caught your eye.
You tuck the rest of the envelopes under your arm— using the acrylic nail on your index finger to open it. Slowly you began to remove the endless series of pictures. They all contained you and Yoongi together in multiple situations. One of you holding hands and walking into your apartment, the other of the two of you coming out of the car together. Your hair was disheveled, your hand tugging at the top of your dress, a wide smirk on Yoongi's face as his eyes looked directly into the camera fixing at his pants.
You swallow hard, heart beating a bass drum in your ears.
This is exactly what Yoongi warned you about in the beginning of your relationship.
“Y/N L/N?” You jumped shoving the photos into the envelope turning towards the voice. You are met with a man, his eyes a light shade of brown and his hair dark and curly.
“Who's asking?'' Clearing your throat, the grip on your once useless mail got tighter watching him dig into his pocket, pulling out his golden badge.
“Detective Kim Taehyung, I’d like to talk to you back at the station. Little birdy told me you know the whereabouts of Min Yoongi. Otherwise known as ‘Suga’.
You gulped, looking over his shoulder and seeing his partner leaning on the edge of his patrol car the ripped man throwing you a smile and wave. The bunny like smile didn’t even match his hulking figure.
“Well, your little birdy? Was wrong Mr. Kim have a good rest of your day.”
“Please don’t make this any harder Ms” You begin to walk away from the fed quickly, descending up the stairs of your home.
This is exactly what Yoongi didn't want.
“Y/N L/N you’re under arrest for the murders of Kim Hongjoon, Song Mingi, and Choi San"
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At the Seoul police station, you were roughed up and thrown into a cold interrogation room. Rubbing your raw wrist throbbing from being bound too tight by the handcuffs you were unlawfully forced in. Groaning your head banged on the cool metal table. The names of any of the men Detective Kim had listed didn't ring any of the bells inside your head. You had your petty crimes throughout your youth, but you were partially civil enough to not murder anybody. This was a tactic to get you to spill what you knew about your boyfriend, and his very illegal line of work. Hell, you didn’t really know anything but, in all honesty, you were ready to fold when he pulled his badge from his pocket. You and law enforcement never mixed well.
You hear the door open, making you sit up straight with a scowl deep on your face. "No one read me my rights."
He chuckled, his dark hair shiny in the low yellow lights. He turned, and your mouth dropped open. “I'll be sure to scold my officers.”
This man was a carbon copy of your Min Yoongi.
The only difference was that the scar on the left side of his face looked to have healed better and was faint. Unlike your boyfriends, whose scar was still an angry, bright shade of red, thick, and tissuey leaving him partially blind.
You knew your boyfriend had a brother. A brother who was in some type of higher up position working for him and covering his messy jobs. Though he rarely talked of him in greater detail, Yoongi had failed to let you know of his very identical twin. “You might catch flies Mrs. Y/n”, setting a large binder on the cold table and taking a seat in the wooden chair in front of you. You shut your mouth, mind running a million miles per hour.
“Seems like he doesn't talk about me much” A noise of disapproval left his lip. Lending you his hand, “Detective August, I requested your presence here in regard to my brother current whereabouts”
Your mouth turned into a thin line, and boy you really wished you knew. “I don’t know what you're talking about...” he hummed, cracking open the large binder skimming through it.
Your body stiff as he read off a file everything about you, “Your grades were decent in high school, though you dropped out suddenly in the middle of your senior year, you were homeless for a year after that, and you have a couple petty thief's and three assault charges”
He looked at you, nodding “You and my brother are a perfect match”
“My brother keeps many women around” he started leaning back into the chair, legs crossing “But you? He's kept you around for the longest, seven months?”
He whistled mockingly, “That's a world record. What makes you so special, huh?”
Crossing your arms over your chest, nails digging deep into your skin as your leg bounces with anxiety. He was pissing you off and the smirk told you he knew it. You could jump over the table and punch him for being an asshole cop and just for unfortunately sharing the same face of your absent boyfriend, but you didn't need another assault charge on another cop.
"And what the fuck does that have to do with me?”
“I always keep tabs on my little brother, always running around and making messes around the city"
So, you're his personal maid?" Watching his jaw clench you smile in satisfaction.
He harshly began to pull out batches of pictures, men whose faces you've seen before somewhere in your life. Till it clicked in your brain— all of these men have tried to make a pass at you over the past couple of months of you dealing with Yoongi romantically. The next handful of photos he pulled were them all laying in pools of their own blood.
"Very sloppy jobs done by yours truly."
Your stomach twisted in knots. You knew what Yoongi was capable of, but all of this for you? You swallow hard, letting a loud sigh leave your lips. "I haven't heard anything from him in 3 weeks he never tells me where he is, what he's doing, or when he's coming back”
August cursed under his breath, hand wiping down his face, "There's been radio silence for five days, were not even sure if he's in Korea anymore."
With that the worst possible scenarios flashed before your eyes, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Y/N, we’ll find him. It's not the first time this has happened”
“And how long was he missing?”
“A year and a half.”
You swallow hard, "And my murder charges?".
"They've suddenly been dropped. I'll be sure to remind my men to be less rough next time"
“Next time?”
The long months of being with Yoongi him disappearing on you wasn't rare. Being that he constantly let it be known that his line of work wasn't meant for you, and you didn't need to be involved. Three weeks has been the longest your lover has been gone. Three very long weeks with not even the smallest bit of news from Hoseok, his right-hand man. You were worried sick, but you knew your boyfriend was tough, and he always came back home to you.
Towel wrapped around your body, you sighed heavily, feeling yourself buzzing from the red wine you'd been consuming since you walked in the front door. It was near dark when Detectives Kim and Jeon dropped you off at home, apologizing for how forceful they were.
You didn't even know if you should have been talking to him and telling the man anything, but you just figured it was fine because he did cover a lot of Yoongi's ‘accidents.
After rubbing your body down with essential oils, you jump at the sound of the phone ringing. The caller ID stating ‘unknown' made you immediately press the green answer and put it on speaker phone, “Hello?
“Don’t you miss me, doll?” You stiffened hearing his voice for the first time in weeks made your body feel like jello. “You mad at me, princess?”
“Mad is an understatement.” glaring at the bright phone screen, “You're so cute when you frown” his words made your glare deepen, looking around your bedroom.
“Is there a fucking cam-” he cut you off. His voice was deeper than usual, all dark and serious, different from his usual playfulness. “I know you saw my brother today.”
“It's not like I had a choice” he clicked his tongue and mumbled shit over his breath and slightly ruffling like he was running his hands through his hair.
“I don’t want you seeing him again, he's a fuckin’ pig. You need to be more assertive. Hobi told me you folded as soon as Taehyung pulled out his badge”
You were at your breaking point, you haven't spoken in weeks and now he was trying to coach you?
“Oh fuck you Min Yoongi, our first conversion in weeks is this bullshit? I've been worried sick.” he stayed silent on the other end listening to you rant about everything. You weren't a dumbass. You knew that dealing with a gangster would come with extra baggage, but this was making your head hurt.
“Your killing innocent men for flirting with me? Then you might as well murder the 14 year old who gives me a free rose every monday”
“You think I won't?” blood running cold as a chill ran down your spin
"Yoongi can't be serious right now” His sigh was loud and frustrated, “Me killing six men for you isn't serious enough?”
“This is exactly why I didn’t want my brother around. Of course, he goes to you when I'm away. He’s already getting to your head and filling it with nonsense so he could have you to himself”
You scoff angrily, scuffing down your glass of wine. “You're so delusional, fuck you and your brother, I don't want anything to do with either of you anymore. Don't bother coming back here” he paused, then his laughter rang through the speakers like he was watching a comedy special.
“Youre hilarious, baby." he sighs and sniffs. “You know I can see you right? Been watching you since I left.”
Your eyes scan every corner of your bedroom. “You don't want me to come back and play with that pussy for you?”
“No.” You didn't answer just staring down at your clench thighs as his soft hum fills your ears, “You're not a good liar baby.”
“Fuck you Min Yoongi” he hummed, almost sounding like cats purr “I plan on fucking you.”
“l'll be home in two days, and I'm gonna make it up to you with this dick deep in your guts."
“I love you, and stop drinking so much your hangovers are the worst.” he hung up with that leaving you shunned to tears. Throwing your phone down you turn up the whole bottle of cheap wine.
Fuck you Min Yoongi
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There were three things that you learned over the past 24 hours.
1. No matter where you went there were always people watching you.
Even your own house isn't safe. Yoongi somehow placed cameras in unknown places all throughout and his men were on your tail along with August and his lackeys.
2. Yoongi was so right about your hangovers.
Your head was thumping the moment you woke up in the morning, still you got ready for work.
3. The Min brothers were fucking insane.
Pulling on the detective's sleeve, you drag him outside the saloon. August had shown up today at your workplace asking around for you and causing a scene. Knowing how nosy and gossipy your coworkers and customers were, you'd be the hot topic for weeks, horrible for your lowkey reputation.
“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask when the two of you were furthest away from the shop and out of sight.
August stared you down, face blank. You hated that he shared the same face as your boyfriend, and he was just as handsome, but the way he carried himself was totally different from his brother.
While Yoongi was very loose and airy, August was tight and stiff with every movement. Despite that, both brothers had a very demanding and dominated aura, taking up space even in the largest room.
“ If you had to ask me something, a phone call or text would have been great. Instead of barging into my workplace like a madman”
He blinked once, twice, then again, looking behind you. You turn and see several people entering your job. He then gripped onto your forearm and dragged you into his chest. You fight against his grip, cursing him and complaining.
"What's going on? Are you crazy?"
"Listen woman" he hissed grip tightening as he shook you slightly. "My brother needs to tighten your leash before I have to."
You open your mouth to get ready to mouth back, but his look shut you right up. "Those pictures you got in the mail. Who do you think sent them?"
You swallow hard before gulping harshly, putting two and two together. He knew what was going to happen if you stayed in the saloon longer.
"Now be quiet and get in the car."
August was seated beside you in the drivers seat of the tinted Audi. You hated this, you wanted to sleep but everytime you dozed off August was there to flick you in the forehead claiming he wasn't going to carry you when the ride was over. You kept asking him when that time was coming and his answer was always a dry 'soon'.
"You have a very foul mouth for a lady," he grumbled, not even looking in your direction.
"And you're annoying. No wonder Yoongi doesn't like you”
He growled hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Me and my brothers relationship is hardly any of your business” With a roll of your eyes and a huff, you cross your arms.
“You two should have never made it my business." his eyes shifted towards you for the first time since getting put in the car. His eyes burning into the side of your head, but you kept your focus outside of the window, ignoring him. Your thigh began to bounce in anxiety as you got tired of his staring.
"Can you keep your eyes on the damn road?" You snapped at him. "You've spoke to my brother yesterday, no?"
"So what if I did." Looking back out the car window.
"You remind me of my brothers last whore. A dumb puppy." he said, you didn't even think when your hand raised smacking the clone of a man across the face. The raw sound of the skin colliding echoed throughout the car.
"You sound jealous of your little brother August." His face went through the most emotion you'd seen him show.
"Awe, poor August always in Yoongi's shadow, hoping and wishing to be just like him- ACK"
August foot slammed hard onto the break sending you forward, seat belt digging in your chest, head inches away from hitting the dashboard.
"Don't talk about shit you don't know about" his voice raises looking at you with slitted eyes. But you didn't have to know much to figure out that August was living in his brother's shadow. So you pressed on, acrylic nails tapping all over his buttons.
"Yoongi gets to do things without consequences while you pick up and clean up after. I'm sure you're tired, I know you wished you could make a mess and not clean it up for once."
“Get out.” and with that you opened the door, slamming it hard beginning your long walk down the dark road. Hearing the sound of the driver side door close your turn and see August. Giving him two middle fingers you grabbed your phone from your work pants, cursing as there was no cell service. You heard August behind walking steadily.
You must have misjudged the distance between you and him before you knew it you were lifted off the ground. Your phone is thrown to the ground and his shiny dress shoe is stomping on it. You claw at his back, kicking and screaming “You psycho! Put me down!”
A smack echoed through the trees. Your ass stings as you embarrassingly laid limp over the detective's shoulder. He walks both of you back to the car. There was no getting out of this situation and before, you knew it. You were thrown into the backseat of the car, an angry August looming over you.
You both were breathing heavy as you stared at each other, and before you knew it, he was smashing his lips onto yours. You should have screamed more, or headbutted him like Yoongi taught you, bit his tongue when it slipped inside your mouth, but you didn't.
You allowed him to put his tongue in your mouth. You allowed him to grope your chest as he grinded himself against your crotch and you let the moans slip from your mouth. High-pitched and whiny they were. When you two parted a thin line of spit followed his lips immediately latched hard onto your neck.
He was mumbling. You couldn't what he was saying with the way his hands roughly dragged your work pants down your ankles and rubbing you through your damp panties. Humorlessly he laughed,
“If this is the mess he would leave i wouldn't mind cleaning it”
"I wonder which one of you got the most attention growing up?" smirking as you egg him on further, making him bite your neck hard, you were sure there was blood leaking. "You run your pretty fucking mouth too much." Shoving your panties into your mouth roughly shoving your legs up to your chest.
Staring at your glistening folds he groans, slim fingers ghosting over your peeking clitoris. Your thighs quiver as his fingers sink into your wet hole, moaning against the damp fabric in your mouth. “I wonder what my brother would say if he knew how easy it was to get you spread open for me.”
Lewd sounds came from the bottom half of you as his curled fingers roughly fucked your insides, you were sure that the mess was leaking onto the dark interior of his car. He never looked away from your face, staring intensely into your eyes and every time you closed your his thumb would press directly on your swollen and sensitive clit. “You're gonna cum?” He asked obviously, telling from the way your thighs twitched and from the way you squeezed his fingers like they'd stolen something from you.
“Slut” he hissed, watching you fall apart in loud high pitched, pornographic moans. He didn't stop his movements until you were sobbing for him to stop, the buzz and sting in between your legs was simply too much to handle. “Tch...” he removed his finger from your insides smacking his palm against the wet flesh. His pants were hurriedly unbuttoned, and his hot flesh smacked onto your own.
When he sinks himself into you— gasping out loud nails digging into your palms. While Yoongi was long and curved at the tip like a dagger stabbing at your g spot, August was thick from bottom to top, feeling him throbbing inside you as he forced himself deep into your stomach. “This is why he kills for you, fuck...
His thrust rocked the car heavily as your moans and his occasional grunts filled the small space. Your noises muffled against the panties in your mouth, damp with your saliva. You could feel his thrust becoming sloppier and your stomach tightening. The grip on your neck loosened as he pulled you to kiss him. Your organisms crashed together as your thighs shook against his waist and he came deep inside your withering body. The two of you laid there breathing heavily as your eyes slowly began to drift shut. “If this is what gets you to shut up, I would've done it a long time ago.”
He huffs, swiping his fallen curls back as he moves to untie you, removing the cloth from your mouth as you limply laid. He wrapped his suit jacket around you and pulled up your pants still mumbling. “Sleep well, we've got 20 minutes left.”
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You awoke with a yawn rolling over you blinked a couple times before remembering your night eyes popping open you wipe the sleep from them, blinking. “Goodmornin’ doll.”
Min Yoongi hovered over you with a gummy smirk causing you to gasp. Leaping up from your plaited position your arms wrapping around his neck. He hugs you back tucking his face into your neck, inhaling the sweet scent that always stuck to your skin. In that moment you forgot that you were supposed to be mad at the man too overwhelmed with his presence. He pulled back pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes were darker than usual. Sucken in from the weeks of lack of sleeping and you noticed how much thinner he was.
Then it hit you like a truck.
August, kidnapped? the car, his dick . . .
You were a dirty dog clinging to your boyfriend after getting your brains fucked out by his twin brother who he obviously dislikes.
You cry into his neck as he shushes you, he was way too calm about this and that was just the signs of a storm slowly but surely brewing. He lets you go softly, standing to his feet. Nodding at the clothes hanging on the dresser in front of you "Put those on and meet me downstairs." With a quick kiss he leaves you sniffing and alone.
Descending down the long staircase your bare feet pad against the cold tiles. You spot Yoongi and his men standing at the bottom. Yoongi watched you walk down hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, cigarettes burning between his lips. He was quick to grab you when you finally hit the last set of stairs, arm snuggly wrapping around your waist as he walked you through the large house.
"Where are we Yoon?"
"Do you trust me?" He asked, as Namjoon opened the door to the outside. Your eyes widen in horror as you see what's behind the door.
He grabs your face to make you look him in the eyes as he asks you again more aggressively "Do you trust me Y/N?"
You sniff back tears looking the man you love in the eyes. "Yes. I do Yoongi."
He clicks his tongue staring at you a moment longer. "I don't believe you."
You let out a string of protests as he drags you outside, you stumbled falling to your knees. You hand smacking into the pool of blood. You gagged dry heaving as Yoongi scoffed at you snatching you back to your feet.
Blood staining the concrete ground as multiple bodies lay only inches away from you both. Their faces were covered with blood stained bags, and their hands and feet tied together. You could hear some sobbing and begging while others laid still more than likely dead.
You stood there shaking in fear as you watched Yoongi pull a gun from the waistband of his pants. While Namjoon and Hoseok pulled a squirming man in front of you. "You see, doll everything I do is for a reason."
"I tell you to stay out of my business for a reason"
"I tell you to keep Hobi at your side for a reason."
He clicked the silver weapon as he yanks the sheet of the man's head revealing August. His face was bruised and bloody as he stared from the gun to you. A humorless chuckle leaves his lips as he bows his head to the ground. "If you shoot me, our pact is done, and you'll never see the light of day or your slut again."
Verbally wincing when Yoongi knocks the butt his gun against his brother's face. August makes no sound head turning as he spits the blood from his mouth. Yoongi crouches down to his level, clicking his tongue as he hums. "I'm not gonna shoot you August what kind of little brother would I be?"
"Grab the runts." He tells his right hand men, bringing in Taehyung and Jungkook who struggled against them. "You see brother you think you're so smart because you got your little degree."
"But that doesn't mean shit." He stands to his full height turning towards. "There's a reason our father gave me his empire and not you. You're predictable and impulsive you think fucking my girl is going to send me over the edge and make me break our pact by ending your miserable life."
He laughs, "Well August... I'm not going to kill you no matter how much I'm burning too."
He turned towards you giving you a gummy smile. Not at all appropriate for the current circumstance you were in. "She is."
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- © hobicakess ! do not steal, modify, copy, plagiarize, nor repost any of the works on this blog without given permission!
533 notes · View notes
fics-lovebot · 9 months
Text
jungkook recs
main masterlist
pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️
e.r means established relationship
disclaimer: if you came back to read that one fic you liked but can´t find it, its bc the link wasn´t working anymore so I deleted it :/
yandere / mafia / bad boy
bloody love - smutty, king jk, evil jk, obsessed jk, posessive jk, blood thirsty jk like fr, he honestly loves bathing in the blood of those who did him wrong in his eyes, reader is lgb. this is an on going series but I´LL BE DAMNED IF IT ISN´T THE BEST THING I´VE READ in a minute!!, the writing its so captivating, not a single dull or boring moment, i can´t wait for the next part tbh
romantic dreams - yandere!jungkook, tattoo artist jk, boxer!jk, UGHH ITS GOODDD, he´s so toxic frfr, namjoon is sick of his ass lmao, totally obsessed with reader, jealous and possesive af, he´s crazy sdlfjs but i´m into it
toxic noona - yandere!noona, toxic controling relationship, jk is a victim, he´d rather die than leave, reader likes to make him cry, manipulation
crafting new memories - yandere!jk FR, stockholm syndrome, jk kiddnaped reader and fucks her while making her watch herself on the news,,,her own missing sign
twin flame bruise - twin!jk, jeon jeongguk and jeon jungkook, they look the same but are opposites, the one thing they have in common is you. it´s an on going series but I like how the plot is vvv different from what we´re used to
yours insanely - yandere!jk, serial killer jk, detective!reader, he kills women who look like you
darknet - yandere!jk, the internet is scary, human trafficking, jk is scary dangerous, it´s a LOT, just wow
who is in control? - yandere-ish, lawyer!jk, posessive jk, obsessive jk, toxic relationship, stalking, manipulation, secret relationship, he´s cray-cray
hybrid au / soulmate au / super hero au / alien au
his bunny - smut, fluff, bunny hybrid reader, fem reader, clingy reader
bunnytalk - bunny hybrid jk, owner reader, jk is a sad bunny bc reader won´t return his feelings but it´s all just a misunderstanding
night vision - e.r, alien!jk, suggestive, lowkey smut, bunny hybrid reader, jk has tentacles ,,,,,nothing else to say, flirty fluffy jk, this is dIFFERENTTTT i love it
closer - smut, step siblings au, noona reader, yandere!jk, jk is obsessed with him older step sister, WHEWWW this is intense, very detailed, loved it
slice of life / university au / idol jk
soju - fluff, shy baby hubby jk, reader cooks him his fav meal and he basically looks at her with heart eyes, i love it
you make him go crazy - fluff, idol!jk, slight angst, multiple scenarios, reader is constantly making him go nuts, he is STRESSED lmao, it´s cute anyways, reader is kind of a careless brat but jk wouldn´t have it any other way
you wear his clothes - fluff, thing is...HE gives you his clothes, he´s so boyfriendd
all my fault - angst, fluffy end, hubby jk, in which you pass out after an argument and find him crying when you wake up
call me soon - summer break up, strangers to fwb to lovers, obsessed jk
screw up; over wine - finance major jk x model!reader, first date drabble, he is really into reader so he takes her to a fancy pricey wine and dine but guess wHAT.. he is broke lmao so he straight up PANICS, lowkey highkey secondhand embarrasment but it´s jk so it ends in a cute way
kiss me better -angst, jerk jk, mean jk, misunderstanding, manhandling, he is crying bc he assumed she was cheating but he was sooo wrong, now he is begging, crying, throwing up,,, they make up anyways, its angsty in a satisfying way
you´re leaving me - angst af, hubby!jk, daddy!jk, he found divorce papers after an argument and thought the worse, he starts going crrrazy but as always, it´s a happy ending
snowball - fluff, angst, crack, implied E2L, flashback from their college days. this is part of an upcoming series, and I already love it bc wdym it was lovE at first sight?? galaxy in his eyes, artsy space love talks, fireworks exploding in his chest bc ur giggles are his fav soundddd and everything?? I am HERE for it. he lit spaces out, brain dead, no other thoughts but youyouyou and your pretty self
you´re sleepy but you promised you´d go grocery shopping with him - e.r, its cuteeeee
movie night monday -fluff, e.r, he is impatient lmao, clingy cuddly loving fluffy jk
couple questions with vogue - fluff, e.r, idol!jk, supermodel!reader, I LOVE THISSSS, he is the best boyfriend/fiancé soon to be hubby EVER UGHHHH its so cute
devoted to trouble - fluff, lil angst, smut, comedy, spiderman!jk au inspired by seven??? a masterpiecE. the world finds out he is spiderman but he dgaf bc he only cares about you, #pininggg, reader playing hard to get, man i love tHIS
show you what devotion is - boxer!jk, ballerina!reader, fluff, angst. you´re like his safe place, it´s giving exes to wannabe lovers, they deff like each other and jk wants to eat her uP but he´s wants it to be romantic and stuff, idk idk I liked itttt
you surprise him for his birthday - he´s so boyfriendddddd, this is so wholesome and cute
he can´t sleep bc he loves you so much - now THIS makes me want to drink bleach and die bc of how cute it is, THEY ARE SO IN LOVEEEE, there´s a lot of giggling, a lot of praising, a lot of disgustingly sweet loving talk after sex :´)))))) its such a good read i promise
fighting heart - boxer!jk, fluff, angst, he´s so stressed sldfkj, reader gets in a small accident and jk went crazy when a nurse answered your phone
make a wish - fluff, little smut, best friends to lovers, reader is so sweet, birthday surprise, jk shoots his shot, he only wants to spend his birthday with you
daft pretty boy - basketball cap!jk, classmates to lovers ig, see he´s smart but when he´s with you he gets nervous and forgets how to exist, he lowkey confesses and he´s sraightforward with itt, he´s got a hUGE crush on you lmao
ride - strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, jk is a fucc boy on campus, reader has tattoos and rides the coolest bike, jk has an instant crush, love at firts sight i would say, got him blushing and sweating lmao, this is an on going series but I KNOW it´ll be gREAT, I love it already
in your arms - e.r, fluff, smut, morning secs, waking up by his side for the first time after moving in
encore - game designer!jk, he is cool af, has a fat crush on reader, this is just the teaser of the fic but I really like it
crave you - idol!jk, crack, smut, fluff, hispanic choreographer reader, texting, taejikook, jk is HORNY but he´s a softie too, he´s got a big big fat crush, strenght kink bc we all know he can throw her around like a ragdoll
pretty girl - smut, tattoo artist!jk, chubby reader, THIS IS ITTTTT, he´s tall, dark and handsome, flirty af too, "pretty girl" stFUUUU, they both want to fuck so he shoots his shot at the tattoo appointment
easy - angsty, fuckboy jk, bet!trope, jk plays you so he can get his rent paid, i read this one a lawwngg time ago and decided i was an angst loving hoe
Inevitable - angst, fluff, smut, lovers to exes to lovers, baseball player!jk, dad!jk, parents au, you break up with jk years ago after you got pregnant bc you wanted him to follow his dreams and now he´s back home just to find out there´s a boy who looks just like him.. this is a masterpiece, honestly one of THEE best jk series out there, it has it all fr, the angst is angsty and the fluff is FLUFFY, i love it sm i´ve read it 3 times and never get tired of it
finish line -fluff, nerdy!jk, racer!jki loooooveee itttttt, so cute, so fluffy, this blurb uGHHHHH, just read the whole thing pls
ungodly hour - crack, smut, fluff, college au, broke college student!reader, lowkey slutty!reader, jk is thirsstttyyyyy, simping atp, "who´s dick do i have to suck for a hulu account?" this series is honestly so funny ksjakskjs
ceo au / sugardaddy au / rich bf au / coworker au
Over The Odds | The Confession - ceo jk, sugardaddy jk, jealous bf jk, sugar baby reader, he gets mad and yells bc he is lowkey insecure of her ex but reader is equaly in love. this is a series
wrong time - smut, angst, dilf!jk, ceo!jk, exes to lovers, workaholic as a scape mechanism, the one that got away type of stuff but she broke things up first for valid reasons, big big heartache but she´s still the love of his life
don´t blame me - sugar daddy!jk, ceo!jk, soft yan!jk, obsessive!jk, student!reader, unhealthy behavior on his part, manipulative behavior on her part, jealousy on both parts, he goes a lil too far but reader is bitchy and annoying, he lit gives her everythinggg she asks for, the man is..creazy about her in a very unhealthy way and she takes advantage of that, toxicc
failed quickie - cowerker jk, suggestive, they´re about to fucc on an elevator but it didn´t work, he likes his hair pulled!!1!
someone older -smut, ceo jk, divorced jk, 30 something yo jk, taehyung has a kid, younger oc, its a nice read, would do it again
break up au / cheating au / fuckboy au
night after night - smut, angst, crack, fluff, semi-retired fuckboy jk, red flag jk, stalker jk, break up au, lovers to exes to lovers, he fucked around and found out so he is FREAKING ouT, also he is beggING okk.. we love that, he also has a Harley bc he is bad boy™, they make up anyways bc he is pussy whipped.. or in love, whatevs you wanna call it
seven plus one - smut, angst, they break up for like a week and that shit got him SIMPING fr, standing under the rain begging and stuff, the man is obsessed, we love it
what could've been - smut, angst, rockstar jk, fuckboy jk, ex gf oc, he breaks her heart then leaves to become world famouse, the sees her again, they fuck, he wants to get back together bc he´s still in love but she does´t want him like that
pwp / fwb
woof, woof, woof - smut, angsty, kinda E2L, jealousy, toxic relationship, teasing , unprotected sex
you good?? - drabble, smut, "what if you gave jungkook head?" is righT bc i´ve been thinking about it for a min!!! he is mean ok yall know he is a brat buT, the head is too good to do all that, the man was shaKINg for godssakeee, so good he had to answer with a thumbs up bc reader drained him fr, left him so brain dead he couldn´t even speak
afterglow - smut, fwb!jk, slight possessive!jungkook, dirty talking, degrading nicknames, but he cares ok, he´s trying to get out of the friend zone
every side of you - very pwp, he is a rough sex loverrr, he compares readers moans with angelic melodies like??? he´s so romantic like that, but also: degrading dirty talk, he is rouGH alright, straight up clingy bf after sex, sweet loving talk + cute cute aftercare, he is just pERFECT
come sit on my lap - pwp, lots of praisingg, they way this is written is good yall, "use me" , “so polite” shUT UPPPP im literally blushing, AND he is also cute at the end?? i hate it heREEEE :´)
birthday gift - honoring his 26th birthday with this masterpiece, he like to talkkkk ok?? dirty talk, degrading nicknames kinda talk, "dumb bitch" kinda talk, growling while he calls you names, i was shook fr
he has a lot of cum - boyfriend!jk, the title I- , he DOES have a lot of cum, lots of stamina, lots of everYTHING, and on toP of those small details, wdym he wants to see how many times he can cum in you before it´s too full and it starts to spill????? somebody stop this man
riding jungkook´s nose - we´ve ALLL thought about this, and if you haven´t you´re lying, periodt. pRAISINGGG, he´s in a pussy-drunk frenezy, he likes feeling used, he likes getting his hair pulled, he likes getting his face wET, it´s sickenINGGGG goreaditplease
fucking in the gym - this was inspired by that one pic of him and jimin with their back out, I SEE THE VISION, fucking with ceiling mirrors
wicked - smut, incubus!jk, big big corruption kink, lots of dirty ploting and dirty talk, yupppp this is a good one, so detailed, love me a fic that lit makes me see what i´m reading
2K notes · View notes
wildestdreamsblog · 4 months
Text
Latibule Season 2: II
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)
Summary: In which he lost his latibule.
Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: A late valentine's gift <3 I’m so sorry for taking so long. A lot happened and work is the busiest and and and life.
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Masterlist, Latibule 2.I
“Hyung, did you hear me? I said-"
Kim Namjoon sighed from the other line, headache already creeping up his temples from the boatload of information Jimin was dumping on him on the other line. As who he considered to be the only sound and sane one among the seven, Namjoon was accustomed to being the voice of reason, getting the boys out of tight illegal situations, and managing the members. Min Yoongi might be the head of the mafia, but all seven of them were leaders in their own right and fields.
Seokjin was the head of the medical field, Namjoon of the twisted world of law, Jungkook of the technology world.
And this definitely was one of Namjoon’s specialties: stopping the fearless and heart-stricken leader of Bangtan from kidnapping a woman in broad daylight. For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t even against the illegal act itself, but could he just do it when there weren’t eyes watching him?! When the sun wasn’t at its highest?! When he wouldn’t be tomorrow’s headline?!
He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, glaring at the eldest hyung who was chuckling to himself. Seriously, he thought doctors were supposed to have no life and no time to annoy their friends? Why then was the Chief of the hospital barging in his office and lounging on his fancy sofa?
“I’m glad you found this amusing, hyung,” he commented dryly which only made the eldest laughed harder. “This isn’t something to laugh about.”
“What?! We all know something is definitely wrong with Yoongi. This isn’t news to us! This only confirmed our suspicions!”
“You could at least be supportive of what he’s going through right now.”
“Namjoon,” he started when he was finally done laughing, wiping the tears from the side of his eyes. “How do you expect me to be supportive of him right now? He’s on the verge of kidnapping a woman because he thought she looked like her. Does that make sense to you?”
He tilted his head before standing up, his movement elegant as he crossed the room to where Namjoon was sitting behind his desk. He smiled down at him, his hand supporting his weight as he leaned down on his wooden desk. “Dead people don’t exactly come back to life after burning from a fire as immense as that one, do they?” he asked, his tone light yet his eyes held faux curiosity. And at that moment, an air of danger surrounded the office. He could see the coldness that reflected on Jin’s eyes.
Namjoon knew when to back down, especially when Jin was in this mood. It was almost comical how quickly Jin’s emotions could switch, and it was definitely not amusing how bloody the effects could be. He wasn’t exactly the mafia prince for nothing. He, of all people, knew how perceptive and strategic Jin was. Never once did he do anything without a reason. And precisely because of that that it took him a moment before he answered. He lowered his eyes for a second before returning to Jin’s now amused ones. “They don’t, hyung.”
Jin nodded before turning to leave, his hand was in his pocket, his stance relaxed as though nothing was amissed. He had opened the door when he paused as though he remembered something. He twisted his body, his eyes trained on the famous attorney before his lips twisted into an entertained smile. His finger was now resting on his lips.
“Ah, unless they’re actually not dead.”
—-
Min Yoongi was like a man possessed, never leaving any stones unturned as he religiously looked for his angel.
He looked at every single piece of record of the town that the town had, employed several people to look for you, searched every available CCTV to trace any evidence that you existed, that you weren’t merely a figment of his imagination, that you weren’t merely indication of his declining sanity. Yet all roads lead to nothingness.
It was like any leads he got were mere fragments, offering little clarity or direction in the investigation. Likewise, it seemed as if someone was making sure that he’d go nowhere with the little pieces of evidences he was able to gather of your existence.
As days turned to weeks and to months, he was starting to be convinced that you were just his imagination playing tricks on him, that his mind was just too cruel to conjure an image of you, that it was just too sick to think that you came back to him. In this moment of profound longing, when the ache of your absence weighed heavily on his twisted soul, he couldn’t help but ponder about his choices in life.
On some days when he missed you the most, he thought that this must have been his karma for living his fucked-up life brutally. On a day like this when he should have been celebrating your birthday, when you were supposed to turn a year older, when you were supposed to be by his side as you blew your candle, he thought that this must have been his penance, a consequence of the twisted journey he had decided to walk on.
But wasn’t this just too painful?
Wasn’t his punishment too cruel to have the world gave him you, only to wretch you away from his arms?
Wasn’t it too cruel to have loved and lost you?
Yoongi let out a humorless chuckle, the puffs of smoke coming from his lips as he looked at what once was your home. It was your birthday, and tomorrow was your second death anniversary.
How he survived the existence without you, he would never know. He decided that he would never stop looking for you because accepting that you were gone from this fucking earth was not an option. He could feel inside the dead heart of his that yours were still beating. He knew a love as immense as what he felt for you wouldn’t die as easily as that. No.
Min Yoongi would find you.
“Happy birthday, my angel,” he whispered to nothingness, only the moon bore witness to his greeting, the night enveloped him in a solitary embrace. The echoes of his sentiment lingered in the air, hoping that his words reached you where you were.
---
“Happy birthday, eomma,” Jung Hoseok finished the song lightly, clapping the chubby little hands of your son in sync with the tune of the song. Your son was giggling as he bounced him on his lap, looking over his long lashes to Hoseok.
“Careful, the candle’s just in front of you,” he warned before shuffling the cake an inch closer to you. He came home almost an hour ago from his work in the docks with a box of cake in his hands he bought. You could no longer count how many times the three of you moved over the year, the last one being the most suspicious to you when after you came home from the market, he had already packed your bags. Before you knew it, he was already driving away from the town.
You lived in so many places.
You never felt at home in any of them.
It was unfair how you only felt at home when you were in his arms.
You clutched your walking stick on one hand, the other cautiously running your hand on the table to detect the cake’s placement.
“I’m not fully blind yet, Hoseok,” you admonished him teasingly before closing your eyes and wishing with all your heart that your son grew up happy. You wished to the heavens that his fate was kinder to him, that he didn’t have to suffer the way you did. You prayed that his fate was free from the shadows that haunted your own past.
You wished that he could live the life he deserved.
“Eomma,” he called for you, lifting his chubby arms to go to you. Hoseok cooed at him before lifting him to your lap carefully. You felt the warmth of his little arms encircling your neck, tiny lips pressing sweet kisses on your cheeks before erupting into giggles. "Eomma!"
A smile graced your face as you soaked in the pure joy radiating from your beloved child. Leaning in, you planted a loving kiss on the person you now cherished most in the world. His eyes lit up in response, a mirror image of his father's, carrying the same warmth and affection he did when he looked at you.
Hoseok watched the two of you from his seat. It was almost comical how he loathed your son’s father with all his heart, only to love his son with the same intensity. If he couldn’t end that bastard brother of his, if he didn’t have it in him to finish the job and kill you, then he would just take the life Yoongi was supposed to live.
He would never let go of the two of you- not when he found peace in this little family. The only way he would let go of this was if the only person he loved came back to him. But that was impossible, right? After all, Yoongi made sure that she would cease to exist in this world.
Wasn’t this the crueler revenge, he thought. Wasn’t this what Min Yoongi deserved?
It was almost amusing to think how he could have been dead if not for one of his brothers that saved him and you that fateful night. He could have almost missed this little slice of heaven had it not been for his brother, the only one who knew that he was still alive.
---
Almost two years ago, somewhere in a small province of South Korea
You woke up with a start, your heart beating faster as evidenced by the spike in the heart monitor attached on your bruised skin. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, attached to your bruised skin, echoed in the room, its pace mirroring the accelerated beat of your heart. The sudden awareness left you momentarily disoriented, and the sterile environment around you hinted at the gravity of the situation. As your senses sharpened, you couldn't shake the feeling that the throbbing in your chest was not only from the abrupt awakening but also from the lingering echoes of a disconcerting dream or a painful reality.
Every single thing that happened went back to you.
Every single detail of that night, of the way he smiled so tenderly at you, of the way he softly told you that he would be back, of the way a strange man entered your house and threatened you.
The recollection was vivid, etched into your consciousness like a haunting melody.
You remembered the way Suga’s face became cold the moment he saw that man. You remembered not seeing even a trace of the man you loved.
You remembered the truth and the pain that came with it, and then you remembered thinking it was your end. Beyond it all, beyond all the betrayal, lies and deceit that unfolded, you remembered wishing that he would be fine after all of that like the fool you were.
Wincing, you lifted your fragile hand to your shoulder, feeling a faint pain where the bullet had pierced your skin.
“Don’t move,” a tired voice sounded on your left. Startled, you turned to look at the source, only to find the man who attempted to kill you leaning against the wall, his own arm bandaged, his handsome face colored with faint bruises.
Hoseok didn’t come out of it unscathed, no. He looked so hallow. It was like he was a lost child, like a man that lost his purpose, like he was a shell of what once was a soul.
He must have seen your alarmed expression. He waved his other arm, his jaw clenching from the events that transpired. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
You blinked at him, never trusting a word that came out of his mouth. It would be difficult for you when you saw how he unleashed hell that night.
“I-I,” you swallowed, your dried throat making it harder to speak. “d-don’t believe y-you.”
He watched you for a moment before nodding his head. That was fair, he thought. “How are you feeling? You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”
What?
“Y-you waited that long to kill me?” you asked, your voice hoarse as you sat down. If he was going to end you, then you wouldn’t take it lying down.
Wordlessly, he crossed the room, lifting the glass of water on your bedside table, the straw turned to you. “Drink.”
You glared at him, distrust and anger in your eyes as you met his emotionless ones.
“I’m not going to kill you.”
You scoffed, turning your head away from him to look at where on earth you could have been. The hospital room was small, the window offering no clue as to your whereabouts. You wondered where Suga could have been.
Did he make it out alive?
Was he hurt?
Was he looking for you?
Did you want him to after what you knew?
“I do draw the line on killing expectant mothers.”
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Latibule 2.III
514 notes · View notes
wooataes · 10 months
Text
Bangtan’s Receptionist
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Pairing: Mafia Boss!Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader, implied ot7 x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: Mafia AU, swearing, Death, blood, injuries, mentions of human trafficking but nothing too detailed, guns, character death.
Summary: Bangtan’s contracts are clear and concise. They are to be followed to the letter, including the most important rule, do not touch their men.
A/N: Just another generic Mafia Yoongi Drabble I couldn’t stop thinking about since Haegeum came out. 🫠 I could possibly turn this into a little oneshot series for each member, let me know if you want more!
- Tae 🥰💜✨
Request to join my taglist here!
Masterlist
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Min Yoongi, in simple terms, is a straight cut business man. With his 6 other colleagues, his brothers, he runs Bangtan Industries, which on the outside seems like a clean cut courier company. On the inside however, the cargo that is transported by Bangtan Industries is more than just letters and stationary for offices. Yoongi and his boys, as the rivals know them, are extremely loyal to their men who work alongside and under them, even so far as to including in contracts that they can be terminated if any harm comes to any member of Bangtan Industries, even as far as the janitor who cleans the office on weekends. Any attack on their men is an attack to them directly, and the whole world knows of this fact.
You were hired 3 years ago by the CEO of Bangtan, Kim Namjoon to be the front of the company, their receptionist and on occasion, assistant for all 7 leaders. They’re all particularly fond of your bubbly presence in the office building, always happily greeting the bosses with a smile and providing homemade lunches on occasion, which usually is more often than not. You always make sure the boys keep their health up, not even phased by their attitudes when they spent too many hours without sleep. You’ve been the most consistent employee, and the members are more than grateful to have you.
“Good morning, Master Min!” You chirp as Min Yoongi strolls through the office door, adjusting his tie. He can’t help but give you a soft smile.
“Y/N, you know that I’d rather you call me Yoongi when its just us. It doesn’t bother me.”
“Oh, I know, I’m just way too used to it!” You grin as you place a take-away coffee cup and a wrapped toasted sandwich on the desk in front of you. “Breakfast is served.”
“You also don’t have to do that every morning too.” He lets out a huff with a grateful smile. “I hope you got your usual too. If I find out you didn’t, I’m forcing you to take your break early to go get.” Yoongi chuckles as you wave the second paper cup on your hands. He nods with finality and takes your makeshift breakfast for him and makes his way to his office.
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After a quiet morning, you’re startled by a loud bang of the doors to the entrance opening and a large man in a 3 piece suit with his gaggle of men trailing in behind him, clearly armed, stalking up to your front desk.
“Good morning, sir. How can I be of help today?” You hum, the large men not phasing you.
“We’re here to see Min.” The man grumbles, hands squeezing the edge of the desk.
“Oh of course,” you smile, typing up on your computer. “Give me a few moments to see if he’s available to see anyone right now.”
You can feel the mans eyes on you as you’re typing, waiting for the response to pop up.
“Ah, I’m sorry sir, Master Min isn’t available right now. You are more than welcome to take a seat and wait until he’s ready-”
You yelp as the man reaches over, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up so you are face to face with him. You wince, his nails digging into your skin and small trickles of blood running down your arm.
“Listen here, you little bitch,” he seethes, “i have been trying to get on Min’s ass for 2 weeks about my fucking cargo I purchased from him and it still hasn’t arrived yet. If you don’t get him out here, I’m storming in there myself and getting my shit back.”
“What on earth is going on here?” Yoongi steps out from his office after hearing the commotion, adjusting the cuff on his white button up as he stalks up to the reception desk. “Ah, Mr Yang. I was waiting for you to show up.”
“Min.” Yang hissed, dropping your wrist and pushing you back into your seat, which Yoongi takes note of. “Where the fuck is my cargo? You said it would be here within the month and yet its the 27th and nothing.”
“Miss L/N.” Yoongi speaks, causing you to snap your head towards him. “Did he hurt you?” He eyes your wrist, which you’re trying to hide under the desk, clearly not very well as it is still in Yoongi’s line of vision.
“O-oh, no, Master Min. I’m fine, really.” You stutter out, giving him a smile.
“I will deal with you after I take care of business.” He murmurs, looking down at your hidden wrist, blood smearing into your blouse. “Mr Yang, if you could come inside. I do believe my receptionist shouldnt have to deal with the likes of this, wouldn’t you agree?” His tone is icy as Yang grunts, nodding his head before pushing past Yoongi and strutting through into his office with his men following behind. “Y/N, I would recommend playing sone music for the next 10 minutes, okay?” is the last thing Yoongi asks of you before closing the door behind him.
“I dont understand why you are so upset, Yang. I gave you exactly what you asked for.” Yoongi hums, sitting at his desk and watching Yang and his men stand over the desk menacingly.
“Thats bullshit and you know it, Min.” He barked, slamming his fist on the table.
“Oh, is it?” He raises his eyebrow, leaning forward and placing his chin on his hands. “Do explain why, because the way I see it, you asked for X amount of drugs and X amount of guns and ammo. Am I wrong?”
“You know what half of those drugs were code for, you ignorant shit.”
“Oh, no no no.” Yoongi chuckled, standing up, revolver in hand. “See, now, if you were implying what you think you are implying, and I truly hope you’re not, then you’ve worked with the wrong man.” He smirked, holding the gun up towards Yang.
“You see, if you read through the terms of our contract - Bangtan do not associate with anything involving trafficking women and children. I truly hope that isnt what you wanted.” Yoongi tilted his head, glaring at Yang. “Is it?”
Yang swallowed lightly, looking between his men, who all have their guns by their sides and their hands up. They know Min’s reputation. They know better than to fuck with them.
“Ah…” Yang sighed anxiously, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “You are right. I believe I was mistaken. It appears that all our cargo was in order. Isn’t that right, boys?” He glanced between his men, who all nod shakily. “Now that we have that misunderstanding out of the way, I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about, so I will take my leave now, Min.” He turns to leave, only to freeze when the revolver now presses against his temple.
“Ah ah ah, not so fast.” Yoongi chuckles, kicking Yang’s knees out from underneath him, forcing him to kneel. “I would’ve been willing to let you go, no questions asked about what fucked up shit you’re into,” he leans down now, whispering into his ear. “but then you laid hands on my receptionist.”
Yang’s eyes widen, struggling against Yoongi’s boot digging into his legs. “What?” he breathed out.
“Did you even read the contract, Yang?” Yoongi hissed now, pressing the gun harder against his head. “Now, you are more than welcome to come in here, ranting and raving about me and the shit I do, I really couldnt give a flying fuck.. but as soon as you touch my people and my men, now theres fucking hell to pay. Rule number fucking 3 my friend. Do NOT touch my men. Do you have anything to say to defend your pathetic ass?”
“I’m sorry,” Yang blubbers out, hands shaking. “I really didn’t mean it, Min! I-I-”
“Save it for hell, Yang.” He squeezes the trigger, letting the body fall to the floor.
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“Come on,” you hissed, aggressively rubbing water over the sleeve of your blouse, earphones blaring music in your ears as Yoongi directed. You’ve been scrubbing for 5 minutes and sadly nothing is working for you. At this point, you haven’t even looked at your arm, now bruising and stained with small trails of your blood.
A figure steps into your line of sight, causing you to lift your head quickly and push the headphones off your head. “Oh, Master Min!” You gasp out, seeing his white shirt splattered with blood. “Did you need me to get your shirt booked in to the dry cleaner?” You start typing up the website to get the booking made when you feel his hand take your wrist.
“Does it hurt?” Yoongi asks quietly, looking down at you through his eyelashes, letting his fingertips run along the marks Yang left.
“O-oh.. um.. a little, but nothing I cant handle!” You smile sweetly at him as he shakes his head.
“You shouldn’t have to handle it at all.” He frowns, using a damp cloth to gently wipe away the trails of your blood before taking some paper towel and drying your arm off. “I do apologize, you didn’t sign up to deal with that shit. I should have been out here waiting for Yang’s arrival.”
“Master Min,” you smiled softly, letting him tend to your arm - you knew it made him feel better when he helped Bangtan with their wounds. “Please don’t stress, I knew what I signed up for for this job.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as he delicately starts placing bright pink Hello Kitty band-aids over your scratch marks.
“Dont laugh.” He grumbles, patting the band-aids down so they stick. “Jimin insisted that we got these to make Taehyung laugh whenever he was hurt.” He lied, Jimin had snuck to you that Yoongi kept his Hello Kitty band-aids with him just in case any of the girls in the office - another word for just you and you alone - were hurt - he just never got to use them until now. But you’d never tell him that you knew. Instead, you just smile and let Yoongi tend to your wounds.
It may not be the best job in the world, but at least you know your bosses have your back.
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btsugarush · 5 months
Text
Hide & Seek | myg (m.list)
❝do you find me sadistic?❞
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summary: desperate to rid yourself of crime and murder for the sake of your unborn child, you escape your mafia husband and start fresh with a new man and new identity; but just as life seemed perfect, your former husband shows you that he isn’t too keen on letting you go. you didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?
pairings: mafia boss!yoongi x f!reader, kim taehyung x f!reader.
warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, tattooed!yoongi, gunplay, use of guns/swords, dom!yoongi, manipulation, abuse, drugs, decapitation, possessive behavior, kidnapping, angst, murder, strong language, torture, 18+, minors dni.
author’s note: oop, another one. hope the anons get mad like it truly affects their life and send hate. anyway my favorite movie in the whole world is kill bill, and when i saw this image of yoongi with a sword it gave me kill bill vibes, so yanno i had to do that for the one time.
©btsugarush. please do not repost.
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yuyu1024 · 4 months
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Escape
Pairings: Yoongi × y/n
Genre/tags: Arranged marriage
Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kink, unprotected sex, Smoking, jealousy, insecurity, mention of weight&food/eating, oral (m/f receiving), mention of blood/violence
~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 5.8k
Disclaimer:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
Note: continuation of Prisoner.
I hope this is a good part 2. 🙏🏻 took me a while coz idk if i should or not. 😅 sorry guys.
(This may continue a bit more...? But please be patient 🙏🏻 as I do have work & usually I try to write before i sleep but lately i've beeen so tired and drained that I cant even function 😅)
***
Another day, another event to go to. You are wearing your best 'pretend' smile. The smile you have practiced for months, to be your default expression whenever you meet anyone in any formal event. It's not that your trying to be fake. You just want to represent your husband the best that you can. And being a shy person, this is what you can do to help yourself.
Although, you wish, that even just one time, Yoongi would show up to these events with you.
At the first month of your marriage, he did. He did that to introduce you to everybody. You could still remember how you two were holding hands and always together. Those were the days when you have spent so much time with him.
But... Now, it's just always you. Alone. Amongst everyone in the whole place, you are the only one who always arrives with no partner.
"Excuse me?"
You twirl around and find the prettiest girl you think you have ever seen in your life. She looks like a goddess.
"Ahm, yes?" Your voice sounded so weak. You haven't said a word in the last hour.
"You are the only one wearing a corsage with a hint of lilac flowers in it... I'm guessing... you are Yoongi's wife?" She asks
"Ah, yes. I am." You look down at the flower pinned on your chest
She's smiling at you. She looks sort of happy to see you. "Finally... I've met you."
You haven't said a word. You are not sure how to approach this. You have no idea who she is and why is she approaching you. Plus, You are sort of intimidated by her. She is a beautiful, a sophisticated woman. She have this energy from her that says she is different than anyone else. You could feel your difference with her. Though you are covered with all highend brands of clothing and accessories. You can still see it.
"Oh, sorry... if I'm invading your personal time..." she says, "I am a friend of Yoongi... well... an old friend... from University" she explains. "Sarang."
"Oh." You smile and bow. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N... I'm sorry... I've not met any of his friends yet so...I didn't know..."
"It's fine. I understand."
She looks like she came from a regal family, the same level as Yoongi. Also, her beauty.... takes your breathe away. She remind you of how you reacted the first time you saw Yoongi. In awe.
"Thank you for coming here also..." she says as she walks you around the gallery. "I hope you find something to your liking here that... would be a part of your home or either a gift to anyone you love."
As you two talk more, you learned that she's the one that threw this charity event. She gathered all these arts from known artists, to auction. She says that 100% of the earnings from it will go to the children's hospital that she have been donating ever since.
You have just met her and you are already at amazed by her. Not by just her prominent looks but also the way she talks and speaks her mind is very inspiring and uplifting. Because of her words you find it easy buying two items in the collection. You know all of the money will go and be used for something good.
You chose the items, the two that caught your attention the moment you entered the gallery. Both are paintings of a beautiful flowerfield which reminds you of your past. The field where you would always go with your friends and have picnic during summer break.
Such beautiful memory that you wish you could've not taken for granted. You wish you could re-live those moments again. And the paintings, those paintings you chose might go well in your own study room.
"It's nice meeting you..." she says, cutting you from reminiscencing your past
"Thank you too for inviting us.. though... my husband couldn't come..."
She smiles, lips pressed together. "He hasn't changed at all. Not very social and just focused on just working..."
Hmm.. The way she talks, the way she describes your husband is very detailed. She seem to know him pretty well. 'They are friends' you say to yourself but then at the back of your mind, a thought, just a tiny thought about him and her, is peaking through.
'Is she an ex of his?'
'If not an ex... probably... someone who liked him?'
I know, this is no place nor time to think about these but you can't help it.
Look at her and then you look at yourself. You two are totally opposites. From status to looks. And probably from personaly to intelligence. She is more than you. She is perfect. You think that he and Yoongi might or will get along more than you and him.
"Ahm... I ahm..." you start to feel uncomfortable with all of your self pity thoughts. You need to get a hold of yourself. "Sorry... I'll... I'll just go to the bar and have some drink..." you say as you clutch on to your dress.
"Oh. Okay." Sarang says. "You want me to accompany you...?"
You shake your head, "No... thank you... don't mind me... please go ahead and tour the rest of the guest." You say pointing at the newly arrived guests.
You turn around immediately before she could response again.
This is weird. You're not sure why you suddenly have the urge to drink. Even though you don't drink. Also because, you can't. Literally, can't.
You only drink red wine when you are offered to drink, by Yoongi of course. It's only when he asks you to join him during nights when he needs company or if you two are to discuss things about the family.
You don't drink also because you are a lightweight. You get tipsy and red easily. One time when you had more than three glasses of red with your husband, you instantly changed personality. You have no idea how and what changed besides the stories that your maid said the day after which were embarassing.
You have no recollection of anything besides the fact that you were on the sofa, inside Yoongi's home office, butt naked and only have Yoongi's blazer on you.
"Mrs. Min, what can I get you?" The cute guy behind the bar asks as you reach your destination.
"How... do you know who I am?"
He smiles, "We had the lists of the guests coming tonight... with photos." He pours water into a glass
"With details...? who can and cannot drink... I suppose?"
He nods. "Your husband noted... to not serve any alcohol to you Miss."
"Even... I want to? Or... pay?"
"I'm sorry Miss..." he says, "If you like we can offer you our non-alcohol champagne?"
You sigh heavily. You badly want to drink. Even just one glass to calm yourself. But...you can't. Yoongi have rules and you cannot avoid and disobey them.
He does give you the freedom to do whatever you want but when it comes to what not to do or what he likes, he have a handful.
1. Don't cut your hair short
2. Don't drink when he's not present nor ordered by him
3. Don't leave the house without atleast one body guard
4. Don't wear perfume (he gets dizzy)
5. Use the safeword during sex
And etc.
The rules are quite simple. Nothing to weird nor to hard to follow. It's just you compromising. And also, you do have a hard time saying no to Him.
"Thanks." You mumble, sighing as you take the glass of water and walk away from the bar.
After figuring out you can't drink to calm yourself, you decide to just go somewhere outside, away from the crowd and peaceful to get fresh air. Lucky you, you found an exit that leads you to the garden.
As time have gone by, you're not sure how long have you been there, staring at the fountain, the flowers and even starring down at your feet every now and then. You thought being out here will leave your head empty. Not worrying about anything. But then you'd catch yourself pouting and comparing yourself to all the ladies you have seen in the event, especially the last person you have talked to.
Your self pity and low self-esteem is thriving today than usual. Is it the lack of sleep? Or because of the one guy from earlier giving you a judging look that made you regret wearing the dress you picked? What happened?
These thoughts are not very helpful. Especially lately, well probably more on daily basis, you do wonder why Yoongi chose you. To marry.
They've said, more particularly his parents said, that he didn't like the ones they suggested for him; so he decided to pick you. To marry you instead of those women who is on the same level as him or close to his family's wealth.
Odd isn't it? Why would someone like him, an elite bachelor, pick a girl from a lower class family to marry? What did he see in you? What made him randomly pick you? You are not special, inexperience about life and not alluring as the other girls in his world. What did he saw? How did he even saw you? You were sure you two never met before. So did he hire someone to find a daughter from a poor family or what?
Instead of clearing your mind, you suddenly had these outburst of questions.
"What are you doing here?"
Your eyes widens after hearing a familiar voice. You didn't dare to speak. You just slowly turn your upper body around to see him, walking slowly towards you.
He's wearing a tuxedo. His hair is slightly slicked back and his scar. His beautiful scar. It's him.
You can't believe what you are seeing. He's really here. Why? He's been away for a week because of work and when did he came back?
"Y-yoongi..." you mumble, standing up
"I asked you..." he says as he stands right in front of you. Then you see his eyes darts down at your glass of water, sitting beside you. "Your bodyguard said... you asked for a drink." He looks back at you, his expression is so serious.
"I ahm... sorry..." you lower your gaze.
"You know... you can't drink."
"I'm sorry..." you whisper softly
"Let her have fun." A woman's voice says. "She just wants to have a glass of wine. It won't hurt."
Slowly raising your eyes, you see her, Sarang, standing from afar from you and Yoongi.
Her stance at this moment is unidentical to her persona earlier. It feels like she is a completely different person, though her appearance is the same. Something shifted.
"She did an amazing job.. representing you earlier." She adds
Your eyes then goes to Yoongi. You want to see his reaction to the angelic woman speaking. You are curious. No one talks to him directly like that, blunt and straight forward, even you.
Sarang is brave to talk casually to him.
"Ready the car..." Yoongi finally speaks after a monent of silence. Ordering one of his men to move.
That was it?
"I'll return the items. Keep the money. I don't care." He says while he's looking at you, straight into your eyes. Though you know, even his eyes are on you, he's not actually speaking to you.
"Yoongi le---" she tries to speak again but he didn't allowed it.
Yoongi just slightly turned his head to give her a side eye. He is not pleased. "My wife and I are leaving..." and then takes your hand to hold onto. "Let's go home..." he says that only you can hear.
"Ahm...ahh... okay." You say, lost by the sudden fierceness from him
***
"Get in." He orders you
Carefully climbing in the car, you move to the other side making sure there is a space betweem you two.
"Home please." Yoongi says to his driver as he shuts the door.
"Sir." The man answers, nodding and then pushes a button that closes the opening between the driver to the passenger seat of the car.
We are now isolated.
He looks so tired. Looks like he just came back and went straight to event to pick you up.
"I have my driver with me... you could've rested at home." You say
He sighs and closes his eyes. "I'm fine."
Did he purposely pick you up because he wants to see you? Did he missed you while he was away for a week?
Your mind is filled with questions and curiosity but you cannot dream of these questions to be real. You have to remember, he just married you because he have no other choice. There is no love in between you two. You are married by paper only that is worth a lot of money. Everything you are doing for him is to repay all of his kindness to you and your family.
This is all just a fantasy. A beautiful fantasy.
"Come closer..." he softly says. His eyes are still shut but his arm is arching, gesturing for me to take place in then. "Y/n..." he opens his eyes, calling my name. You scoot over his side. He immediately puts his arm around you, making sure you are close. "You're shaking..." he utters as he goes back to closing his eyes, resting his head back. "You're almost naked with that dress of yours..."
"Sorry..." you say looking down at your knotted fingers. "I thought it will look good....that's why I wore it."
He sighs. "You do look good..." then he shifts in his position and makes sure you're looking back at him. Then he starts leans in, to kiss you.
"Wait..."
He pauses, confused by your reaction. You have never denied his kiss before.
"I'm sorry..."
"What for?" He asks
"Well..." you look to the front, where the driver is. "Do we just kiss or..." you whisper
Yoongi didn't expect your question which made him smile. "It depends." He is looking straight into your eyes, your face are just inches away.
"He might hear us..." you whisper
"I don't fucking care." He moves forward and finally catches your lips.
***
After travelling for almost half an hour, you finally reach home.
"Welcome home, Miss..." The maid greets the second you slide out of the car. she then sees Yoongi, coming out from the other side of the car. "Master!" She bows again. "Welcome..."
They are suprised to see him. They didn't expect him to arrive with you. Looks like none of them knew he went to pick you up.
"Do we have anything to eat?" You softly ask the maid, then you realized that it's already late and that they have to rest too. "Oh... Sorry... never mind... you may go and rest." You give her a faint smile.
Then slowly walking towards the elevator, you could see your husband's reflection through the glass doors. He is busy already with his phone.
"Y/n..."
You glance up, peaking through the reflection. He is walking towards you. So you wirl around and waited for him to stand in front of you.
"Ask your assistant to remove all charities or event under the Lee's tomorrow. Even parties." He says as he undo his bow tie. "And... to not accept any invitation from them...again"
"Why?"
He didn't answer. No answer means he's serious.
"Okay..." You just answer before turning your back at him again.
Thinking about what you are in his world is heart breaking in a way. You are nothing but someone he owns. You just go with the flow of his world.
Yes you do had an idea what you've signed up for but its still shocking nonetheless how everything is unfolding and is doing.
"Aren't you getting in?"
You look up and see that he is in the elevator already, waiting.
"S-sorry..." you say before entering. You try your best to not make eye contact with him.
After both of you settled in, the maid follows and taps on level 3. That is where both your rooms are.
Oddly, Yoongi taps on the Upper ground after her. "Can you please cook something light before you leave? My wife needs to eat." He orders
"Yes, Master." She answers just in time when the elevator stops on UG.
"We'll both be down after we shower and get rested a bit."
"Understood, Master." She exists the elevator, bows and immediately walks off.
'My wife'. It is the second time he said that today. He never says that.
"Don't skip meals." He mumbles as the door closes
You didn't answer. You didn't mean to skip a meal or two today. And maybe a few days before too. You were nervous. One main reason is the dress you're wearing right now is very revealing. A satin black backless maxi dress. You wanted be perfect in the dress thats why, even though you know it's not achievable.
*pings*
The elevator door opens on level 3. You step out and about to turn to your wing when you hear him call your name again.
"Where are you going?" He asks
"T-to my room..." you sound so weak, "To shower..."
"Shower here." He says, suggesting the shower in his wing. Meaning in his room. Meaning his bathroom.
"Hmm?" You are lost in translation. Why is he asking you to shower there all of a sudden.
"To my room." And then he undo the first two buttons of his shirt.
"W-what? Why?"
He didn't say another word. He just continued to walk off towards his room leaving you.
"W-wait..." You take two steps forward but then stops.
"Y/N...." you hear the heels of his shoes stop hitting the marbled floor. His back is facing you. "I said, shower here. I didn't ask you to decide." he then turns around and you see his white top basically open now. "Will you go and shower with me or do you want me to peel that dress off you and carry you to my room?"
Flusttered by his remark, you just released an unsolicited shaky breathing. "Ahm... yes... I'm... I'm coming..."
***
[Flashback to Yoongi's side]
(Earlier... as soon as Yoongi arrived at the charity event)
Some of the people in the event went silent for a few seconds the moment they saw you enter the building. They all didn't expect you to show up since your wife was already present. But of course, they still greeted you with a smile and tried to make small talks. They want to be on your good side. They know what you are capable off. What power you hold in this world.
However, you don't care about these fuckers. You dropped by because you received a call from your wife's bodyguard that Y/N is not looking okay.
"Where is she?" You ask the man standing behind you.
"She just left the bar, Sir. And went out to the garden." He reply.
"I see."
One step, you just took one step and somebody already stands in your way to your wife.
"Look who's here."
"Sarang." You say her name, bitterly. You are not expecting her to be here.
"You have been ignoring my invites for quite some time now... I thought, helping others is one of your goals in life that's why you work 24/7?"
"I thought this event was by the Lee's?" You hiss at your male assistant.
"It is, Sir. By--"
"Lee Do-Hyun..." she cuts off the assistant. "My husband..." she proudly says. "Aww.. That kind a... hurts my feelings...that... you have no idea I got married..."
"I don't keep tab on people who's not important to me."
She scoffs but she sounded a bit insulted and her ego got hurt. But she's good at pretending that it didn't bothered her. "You say that now...but a few years ago... I was your muse..." she tries to move closer to you but your body guards stands in between quickly.
"Was." You look away from her and try to search for your wife through the window not far away from where you stand. "My mistake for socializing to a liar, back stabbing... leech like you." You say, then giving her a side eye. "I wish your husband good fortune... or that he loves spoiling you... or esle... he'll found out his wife's true color..."
You're about to walk away, again, but this bitch still wants to talk to you.
"You think... she'll not get tired of you? Of you controlling her? Especially getting married with you... with no love at all?" She snorts a laugh again. "Or maybe... she will not..." she mumbles under her breathe, "Now... It figures... why you picked someone from a low class family... someone with no choice but to stay with you because her family needs your money. I see..." she laughs again, "poor girl... if I were her, I would milk you all of your money so it will be worth it... after all she married a controlling, dominant, and a freaky person like you."
You know Y/N is not like her. She is a nice person. She's not into money like this bitch is. However, you do think about how Y/N thinks about you and her marriage to you.
You admit that you are very controlling when it comes to her. It is one of your negative trait that you cannot put away. It comes natural with you because of the life you have been brought up and your business. You want things to happen in your way and you are also possessive. You do try to controll it when it comes to her but you are not sure if you are doing it right.
Well how could you know, you never talk about it. Even with your wife. You never asked about her feelings and opinions.
"Watch your mouth." You mumble. "You might think you know me from the years we've been together. But you haven't seen half of what I can and would do... if anyone picks a fight with me.." you glare at her. "Consider this a warning."
[End of flashback from Yoongi's side]
*************
"Miss..."
Slowly opening your eyes, your eyes carefully adjusted to the light. You could see the ray of sunshine peaking through your dark thick curtains.
"Miss..."
You turn your head to the side and see your maid bowing.
"It's noon Miss..."
"Oh."
It has been a quite a few days now, since you start waking up this late. You are usually up early. You are a morning person. You also do jogs or walks around the property and sometimes go to the home gym to move, always. But something shifted in your routines.
You are tired, less motivated and no will to get up your bed.
"I think we need to call the family doctor now, Miss." The maid suggested. "You've lost a bit of weight and you look pale."
"I'm fine." You say as you push your duvet off your body and slide down off your bed. "I'll take a quick bath..." you mumble
"Understood." She is ready to come along with you.
"No... I'm fine... I'll just go alone... just prepare food for me please."
"But... Miss..." she usually prepares your bath and always stays with you there. After the little accident you had a year ago when you first experience a hot bath on the tub. You fainted because you fell asleep. Too much enjoyment and you forgot it is not good to stay long in there.
"I'll be fine." You smile and requested for her to leave
"Okay Miss... but... I will be back after half an hour to check."
"Sure."
You slept last night, wearing your silk robe and your fancy cream nightgown, his favorite. You were expecting Yoongi to come home last night as per usual schedule. But he didn't. He didn't even informed the staff that he'll not be home for a longer period.
What happened? You don't know.
The last time you talked to him was the night he asked you to come to his room and shower with him.
Everything that night was magical. For you atleast. But then you ruined it.
When you both entered his dark room, he immediately clung onto you. He held you like everything depends on it. It was more intemate and hungry than the usual and you liked it for some reason. After all the self doubt and insecurity you felt in the party, the intemacy made you feel more than what you feel.
And when he peeled off your dress from your body, you didn't expected him to go down on his knees and lick your soul out of your body. His tongue did more than you know he could do. It brought you to another level of high. And you didn't know you could screech like an animal because of it. He really made sure you are on cloud nine or even beyond that.
"Fuck me... please..." you begged him after you knees weakened and fall down the floor where he is.
"No." He said. He was sturn. "No request for tonight." He said and then he positioned you underneath him where he could properly see you crumble because of him.
"Y-yoongi... please.... I need... I want to come..." you begged
He brought you to cloud nine but then hold onto your pearls when you were about to orgasm.
"I'm punishing you right now..." he said as he lowers down and starts to run his tongue from your chest up. "Next time... don't wear any sort of revealing clothes...when I'm not around.. do you understand that Y/N?"
"Y-yes..."
"Another rule to add... are you okay with that?" He hummed the last words on your ears before he let both his hands squeeze your breast. "Answer me..."
"I don't... mind..." you were squearming underneath him. He was playing your nipples then. "I... I don't mind... Yoongi..." you repeated, pleading.
His punishment continued for another few minutes. It was too much. You were struggling catching your bliss but he's playing you. However, you are patient. You know his kinks and you know what he wants and so you do whatever and accept whatever. Coz you know it is from him.
"Scream my name." He grunted as he pounds you with no mercy.
You were holding on to his massive bookshelf on the wall, your legs were lifted and hanging over his forearm whilst he was thrusting deep in you. You were getting hurt from your back hitting the shelves but it didn't matter. You don't know why but for some reason you can endure everything just for Yoongi. Even pain.
"Nnggghhaaa..." you threw your arms around his neck as he went faster. "Please!" You cry on his neck. "Aaaahhh!!" You screamed the orgasm you have been keeping for a while. You felt relieved and content.
And as you two were catching your breath. You uttered words that surprised the both of you. You said 'I love you' to Yoongi.
It should not be a surprise. You two are married right. However since yours are different from others, those words were never said or mentioned ever after the wedding. It is like a forebidden phrase though there are no rule about it. It's like an unspoken deal that no one says those words since THIS.. YOU TWO... is just a fantasy. You two got together with no love. It is not real. You are just one of his property.
And so, after that night. That magical night for you ended up into this cold, quiet and empty prison. Again. You are back to nothing.
You thought you are on a journey escaping that confinement. You thought that something is going to change. You thought... that you were wrong about him. But who are you kidding? You were just having sex like you used to. It is nothing special. It is the same crap. So you saying you love him is... worthless.
"Did I even mean it?" You ask yourself as you lay down in your hot bath. "I said it... after sex.." you are trying to understand how those words slipped out of your lips. If it all just happened because of such high from the sex.
You can clearly remember how you said it. You paused, looked into his eyes and carefully said it. You know you said it with the intent for him to hear it but when you saw his reaction. It made you realize what a big mistake it was.
"Am I having feelings for him?" You mumble as you lower yourself more into the water. "I should not right?"
You know the answer to your own quesion. Look at him even ignoring you for almost two weeks now. Who are you even kidding thinking it will have an effect on him?
After the 'I love you' incident, He eat dinners without you or he let you eat first before he comes out of his home office. And then when he leaves, he does not inform you now. You just get the news of him flying off somewhere from your maid. Even his men are being cautious with you. He must've ordered them to be distant but at the same time protect you.
How funny that these are his responses to you. You know you deserve it but you're a little bit hurt, your not going to lie.
"Who am I for him to love?" You sigh. "Maybe... I should just prepare myself for the ending of this fantasy..."
*********
"Master." The maids bows as they suddenly sees Yoongi enter the main entrance while they are all cleaning.
Yoongi have not been home for a while. He has been... busy.
"Give them all my clothes." He says to his right hand man. "Sorry if it's quite a lot today." He then says to the maids as he removes his black coat revealing his white button up shirt, stained with blood. A lot of it. No one reacted to the visual that is shown. All the staff are used to it. They know how his world is.
"Where is she?" He asks as he loosen up his tie
All the maids in the corredor suddenly turn heads to the youngest one at the end of the line. She is Y/N personal maid.
"Master." She steps forwards and bows again. "Miss is in her bath."
Yoongi frowns. "Alone?"
"Ahm..." she suddenly stutters. "Sorry, Master! She... Miss wanted to... alone... but I told her after half an hour I will go back."
"How long has she been there?" He then throws his tie on the ground.
"Twenty."
"Okay." He takes a deep breathe and tries to collect himself. "Just go and be on standby in her room. She can't stay any longer."
"Okay, Master." She bows again and briskfully walk back to Y/N wing.
"Are you not going to... visit her Sir?" His male right hand asks. "She have been messaging you since..." he pauses for a bit. "And calling too."
He didn't answer. "Ready my bath please." He orders and just continue walking his way to his room.
"Understood." The man replies
"She can't see me like this." Yoongi mumbles as he walks
"I see..." his right hand man smiles at his master's response.
"Why are you smiling?" Yoongi asks, one eyebrow up.
"Nothing, Sir."
"Just spit it out."
The right man, Mr. Kim have been Yoongi's right hand man ever since he was in his teens. Mr. Kim saw him grew up and be the man that he is now. And for sure, if something changed he would be the first one to notice
And now, the tiny changes in Yoongi's mood and decisions, He might not know or see it but it is obvious for Mr. Kim. He knows it is something about his wife.
"2nd week of your marriage, Sir. She saw you coming home with a bloody lip and injured knuckles. You said you don't give a damn if she sees you looking like a murderer."
"So? What's your point?"
"It's just lately...."
Yoongi pauses and turns around to see Mr. Kim, wearing a smile.
"What are you implying? Just... say it."
Mr. Kim bows and says, "Nothing Sir."
"Hmmm..." rolling his eyes, he continued to walk.
*****
"Miss..." your personal maid rushes in your room, "Master have return." She says.
To her suprise, she sees you standing in the middle of the room, wearing your bathrobe and a towel in your hair already.
You take a deep breathe, not letting your eyes look away from the view you are seeing from your window, a clear blue sky.
"Miss.. shall I prepare your clothes?"
You close your eyes and then removed the towel wrapped around your long hair. "Please..." you softly answer
"What do you prefer to wear today, Miss?" She asks she she begins to walk towards your walk in closet.
"A black dress..." you say as you follow along. "Maybe the one with the longer sleeves."
She nods and then continues to search for the dresses you have that matches your description while you on the other hand looks at yourself in the full length mirror while you undress from your robe.
You stare at your body and see how you thin you are. Not super thin but thinner than what you used to.
It's your own fault. You have been skipping meals when you are stressed and it's not good.
"Miss?" She then lays three dresses on the sofa in the middle, for your choices.
"The middle one." You says.
You then open the drawer for your undies to grab a black lace matching underwear.
"Ahm, Miss...?"
"Yes?"
"Are you going to eat with Master, in the dinning today?"
"Hmm... what did he say?"
"Nothing. He just asked me to stay with you when I told him you are in your bath."
"Did he say if he wants to see me?"
The maid didn't answer.
"I guess not." You scoff as you getting into the dress. "Just bring my food in my study room. I'll eat there while I do some reading."
"Understood." She bows and exists the room.
"I'm not gonna wait for him anymore." You say to yourself while looking onto the mirror. "If he's going to avoid me or ignore me... then... that's what I'll do as well..."
Starring once again at yourself on the mirror, you look at your face and then your eyes goes down to your belly.
"I have to learn to go on with my life... with or without him..." you mumble. "I should start to escape this fantasy... a dream that maybe the 'us' will be something."
Part 3 - Twilight
619 notes · View notes
hollyhomburg · 3 months
Text
Before I leave you (Pt.67)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, Yoongi buries it for you).
Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,
W/c: 12.5k
A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
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Jimin sits on the stairs going down to the basement. His arm in a sling and bandaged up to the elbow. It aches with every small movement he makes as he peals a tangerine. He hasn't had any narcotics in a few hours and they're starting to wear off.
Jimin needs all of his brain power for this; For covering up the murder.
The fewer things running through his system the less sluggish and fuzzy his thoughts are. Jimin picks his poisons and fewer things make him less coherent than the panic and pain and near constant avalanche of thoughts. Tae, Tae's hurt, Tae's-
Tae's fine, Tae's upstairs with Y/n. he has to remind himself of these facts every few breaths. Tae's going to be okay because you wouldn't let anything happen to her.
There is evidence of that virtually everywhere; In the lines across your hands that Yoongi had dabbed at with a cool cloth, the swollen side of your jaw that he'd cradled. The blood drenching the opposite side of your face that he'd tenderly washed away. Not to mention the blood on the kitchen table, the floor, the ceiling. The blood splattered across your nest-
You don't fuck with an omega's nest; you don't fuck with their packmates.
Jimin quiets his brain with a steady breath as he looks down at Yoongi, Jin, and the body between the three of them wrapped in plastic.
He manages to peel the tangerine in his hand despite how uncooperative his left hand is. Numb at the fingertips just like it’s been since the surgery.
Namjoon had stroked his fingers and tested their give every chance he got, holding onto them and prodding while they waited in the hospital room and then again when Jimin got discharged. He said that they’d probably get better. Probably.
Tae's going to be fine because Namjoon is there too- had checked out her head with that soft alpha grumble croon of his. The most soothing sound in the world, and yet incapable of soothing this.
But Jimin knows nothing’s for certain, he might never get the feeling in his hand back. (This is Jimin's penance; The reminder of these tangled few weeks and how things went will be ever present. The reminder will be the first press of every touch with his non-dominant hand. He will never regain full feeling to the tips of his fingers. Never).
There are a few of noodle paw prints in the dust here, Jimin's ass is no doubt covered in it too from resting on the rickety stairs that lead into the half-finished basement. Little paw print marks that would make you coo and take pictures if you were down here.
But you’re not, you’re upstairs getting the evidence washed off of you.
No one's in that kind of mood right now anyway. No one’s been in that kind of mood for a few hours (or a few days, if he’s being honest, from Jungkook’s seizure, to getting shot, and then coming home to a dead body in their living room).
It’s been 4 hours since you killed someone in the kitchen. 3 hours since Jimin was discharged prematurely from the hospital and the rest of the pack was summoned home via a disturbingly calm call from Jin.
It’s been a tangle of moments even for the people not on hard drugs. Jimin feels like he's doing pretty good at answering the pack’s questions given the circumstances. You'd never know that, given Yoongi's eye roll and Jin's heavy sigh.
"Minnie- we're not asking you how you would have killed him just how you'd cover it up."
They used an old shower liner to wrap the body before they carried it downstairs. It makes a squeaky noise against Jin's rubber gloves (The pink elbow-high ones that he uses to do the dishes) as he pulls back the plastic sheet to reveal what's left of the assassin's head and face.
“I already told you, I don’t know his face- not even a little.” I’d have a pretty hard time identifying his face with the state she left it in regardless Is what he doesn't say.
Jimin tucks his chin, unsettled to look at the man's half-blown apart face for long. "I think he might be the spider but I don’t know. I never met him, only heard his name in passing.”
A small tattoo on the man's wrist reveals as much. A small spider tattoo that someone going to have to cut out and bury separately. Someone's going to have to get all of his teeth too- no identifying marks. None.
He’s a little too impressed with the state you’d left him in when he thinks about it. But once he’d seen your face and Hobi’s neck, not an inch of Jimin had felt the kill wasn’t justified. The whole pack feels that way, he knows they must even though they don't say it. Everyone's a little bit in shock right now.
Even Namjoon hadn’t even given the body a second glance when the pack had tumbled into the house. The pack alpha had simply alternated his fussing from you to Hobi to tae and then Jin. Torn between who needed him first. It was the first words Jimin had heard you speak. Your wet gasp, blood that wasn't yours flashing on your teeth. "Joonie- Hobi needs you."
Namjoon had calmed only once he realized that most of the blood on the three of you was the man’s. Yoongi had a similar reaction and so had Jimin, clutching at Tae. Angry at his arm for its uncooperativeness. About ready to tug off his sling and his bandages and stitches if it meant holding tae easier. He'd even tried it, only to be on the receiving end of a disapproving pack alpha growel too.
“Jimin you can’t; your stitches.”
“Fuck my stitches hyung.”
Numb fingers meet numb faces.
He's a bit ashamed of it, but when he first looked up from Tae to you- where you sat crumpled in Yoongi's hold. Your mate laying down a volley of sweet nothings to you to get you to stop shaking. There was only one sentence running through his head.
That’s my girl.
He'd reached over and squeezed your hand, blood and all. That blood has dried now. Soaked into the lines of his palm. Coloring his fate and love lines all rusty while he eats the tangerine. He should probably wash his hands. All of them probably need too.
Jungkook had been the only one willing to speak, closing the door softly behind him, locking it and treading softly closer. Careful to sidestep both the pools of blood and the piece of a skull sitting next to the couch. He looked down at the 7 of you with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.
"Can't we have one normal fucking day?"
Jungkook was the one who’d gone to the kitchen and gotten one of the hand towels to clean your face. His lips tightened to a line when he wiped away the blood and started to see the bruising, the cut across your temple dripping fresh. Lower lip wobbling ever so slightly.
“Kookie-”
Jungkook had turned to Jin and Namjoon, “I don’t want to deal with the body hyung." His hands were already under your arms, lifting you up, helpless. "Help me get them upstairs. We need to-” he’d let out a frustrated noise. Instincts coming to the full front- instincts he rarely feels.
Who knew blood would incur Jungkook's grooming instincts?
The last time Jimin saw Jungkook; He was helping Namjoon and Yoongi herd the three of you upstairs for a much-needed shower. Hobi hadn't been able to do it under his own power. Namjoon had to carry him.
Hobi; who's choked on every word he's tried to speak. Whose eyes are still red from all the burst blood vessels. Who easily got the closest to dying out of the four of you.
Everyone shakes when they touch Hobi and everyone touches him softly. Namjoon just about snaps his teeth at anyone who tries to get close. His hands turning red from the cold of an ice pack wrapped gently around the alpha's throat.
Jimin knows Jungkook's a lot more unnerved than he lets on, shuffling from foot to foot as he bound Tae up with a towel, taking her delicately from Jimin's arms. Carrying her in the same way Namjoon carried Hobi.
Yoongi was all soft helping you upstairs. Speaking in that quiet voice that he saves for Sunday mornings and stolen moments of quiet. Every moment, all of this is stolen.
And now- the beta is down here, leaning over the body and looking at it like it will tell him something that you won't. After your initial demand that Namjoon he tend to Hobi; you haven't spoken a word. Neither has Tae. Jin's done all of the talking.
There isn’t much to say.
Jimin feels the numbness in his hands and looks at Jin. He hasn't apologized for the bullet yet. But the more time that passes the less Jimin wants an apology. Mating marks come in many forms. Jimin has a scar on his body from one of his omega's- so really? What does he have to be upset about?
The whole house needs to be deep cleaned, and then deep cleaned again. There's blood everywhere; on the couch, the ceiling, the curtains. It's a lot to clean. It's going to be a lot to hide.
That's the only reason why Jimin's not upstairs helping you and Tae clean up right now; the body is unfortunately the biggest threat to the pack's safety at the moment.
There’s a bloodstain on the stairs too, a droplet next to where Jimin sits. he makes a mental note of it but doesn't move to wipe it up. He puts a tangerine slice on his tongue and chews before he answers Yoongi’s next question.
“I don’t know how to dispose of a body, I never dealt with this part. My only job was to kill, not take care of them after. I know there’s a way that you can do it with soap.”
Jin snorts, “You only know that from breaking bad-“
Jimin’s a little miffed, “We already have a plastic tub upstairs-”
“Lye,” Yoongi corrects, looking down at the body before he stoops to retape the plastic over the man's face. It was a bitch to wrap him up, the body stiff and heavy from rigor Mortis. The blood beneath it bubbles and darkens, coagulating. Yoongi's long hair falls over his face and he tucks it behind his ear.
“We could use the soap, but it might take a few days.” Jin clarifies.
“Do you think we can wait that long?”
“Absolutely not,” Jin’s got a similar ice pack to his wrists, the skin there bruised and red and swelling where he fought to get free from the handcuffs, where he eventually ripped down the banisters and broke through them with brute strength and panic.
You’d found the keys on the man’s body soon after and released him from the handcuffs, they're wrapped up in the plastic along with the frying pan, the gun that killed him, and a few other items from the living room that were just too bloodstained, every big piece of evidence will lie right beside him where he rests.
Jimin eats another slice of the tangerine, and Jin shrivels his nose at it. “Isn’t that a little gross?”
Yoongi mirrors his disgust. “Yeah Minnie, weren’t those covered in blood?”
But Jimin just shrugs, “I washed it and peeled it hyung” And keeps eating. After a few days of hospital food, the tangerines taste divine.
Yoongi stands from where he’s kneeling on his knees with a faint crack. “One part kitty litter, two parts concrete should keep out the smell,” Jin says, eyeing the 6 by-six-foot hole in the basement's foundation, already there from the plumbing that needed replacing.
Most of Yoongi's tools are down here too. His scrap pile of wood and the dozen bags of concrete. His hack saw and his circular saw that none of them are looking at. Yoongi had only just fit in the plumbing a few weeks ago. He'd been about to re-pour the foundation anyway.
“I’d rather not have a body buried in our house.”
Yoongi touches Jin’s wrist, so feather-light, removing the ice pack to check the swelling to see if it’s gone down. Jin's left hand is just as useless as Jimin's, the knuckles bruised and ballooned.
“It’s just for a few weeks, we can deal with this once it’s all calmed down, but we absolutely can’t go try and bury it. Who knows what the neighbors heard?”
They're all silent at that, silent at the idea that these few hours might be the last few that the pack spends free.
But over the next few hours, there are no blue and red flashing lights outside or concerned neighbors that come knocking. Your one saving grace is that this all happened during the middle of the day and all of your nearest neighbors have nine to five's. Is it so simple to hope that everyone was just at work? That no one heard the gunshots over the nearby roar of the passing train?
(Maybe they're just too used to the pack next door; the one that has the noisy ruts and noisy noisy packmates. The one whose alphas have a habit of opening the windows in the back room and let the sound of their roughhousing and video games flood the street. The ones who have extra loud movie nights. They're just a bunch of kids, how harmful could they really be? At least the pack alpha and omega look respectable.)
It's a good thing that no one comes; because Namjoon has more important problems, more important things to handle beyond the body in the basement or the police at the door.
Namjoon’s hands cradle Hobi’s neck. He wheeze as he tries to speak, his mouth falling open. He's mostly clean, but a rusty trickle of water from his hair trails down his shoulders.
Jungkook tugged him into the shower first and gave him a rough clean before handing him back to Namjoon. They sit on a towel together on the edge of the nest. they only moved him in here to give him some privacy- to distract him because Hobi kept reaching for you. you'd kept reaching back, tae was already in the shower under the stream.
"Pup- your hands- you're going to hurt yourself."
The Nestroom is dark and quiet. Every single blind in the house is draw. Only the christmas lights illuminate Hobi's injuries. Namjoon will tend to Tae and then you after he's checked out Hobi's injuries. will send him downstairs with Jin for some cold water to soothe his throat once he's done. once he's been cleaned again probably.
Hobi was covered with the most blood, having been just under the man when Tae had blown his throat apart while you- Namjoon doesn't want to think of it, doesn't want to see it.
(Namjoon thinks of every moment, sees them behind every blink. Blink and he sees you sitting in his lap over breakfast squirming happily. Blink and you're kneeling in a bloody puddle looking up at him.
Blink and you're curled up in the nest wearing the first pajama pants he'd given you. Blink and he's watching Jungkook dab at your bloody cheek, blink and you're turning into his hand to nuzzle as he wakes you for sunday morning breakfast. Blink and there’s sunlight spilling across your face and blood slipping down your chin. Namjoon's smallest and most sensitive pup not so innocent anymore.)
Namjoon touches Hobi's throat with no small amount of reverence. it cools the anger in his throat. Namjoon's anger has no good place to go.
When Hobi closes his eyes, he sees it too; the explosion of the bullet and the splat of blood pouring down his face. The shower earlier felt so similar- he almost couldn't handle it. He had to concentrate on Jungkook's voice narrating everything.
"Here Hobi, I'm gonna use some soap now. I like Tae's body wash. You know she always just picks whatever bottles are pinkest because she wants all her toiletries to match. It smells good, doesn't it? Can you take a deep breath for me? Through your nose?"
Endless meaningless Jibber jabber to distract all of them.
Now he shivers and shakes in Namjoon's hold. One part terror and one part near frostbite. Namjoon turns the heat up but Hobi still shakes as Namjoon checks his throat. "Open for me baby- that's a good boy."
He flashes a light down there, listening with his stethoscope. The cold metal end of it presses against his collarbones and the bruises too. Finger-shaped that lace over his jugular like a collar. Over Hobi's heart. Every thump ba-thump ba-thump music to Namjoon's ears.
Namjoon’s growl is soothing as he scoots closer to gather the injured alpha close to his chest. Shushing Hobi as he tries to speak for the dozenth time in the last hour. “Don’t try it, careful- I don’t think he did any lasting damage but-”
Namjoon breaks and his forehead drops to Hoseok’s shoulder, fingers rub out soothing circles on Hobi's wrist even as he starts to cry. Namjoon already stitched up the deep puncture wound there. He had to hold his wrist still as he dabbed the stingy antiseptic, the impulse to pull it away too great. The wound wasn't from a bullet but from the piece of the door that embedded itself in Hobi’s wrist. Blown apart the way he could have been.
Namjoon was so close to losing everything, to losing them.
The bruises, Hobi’s eyes, and his little raspy breaths. Everything both punishment and payment for every violent thing Namjoon wants to do. He feels powerless to do more than hold the smaller alpha right now. The strength in his arms doing little to protect Hobi from the hurts he's already nursing. Hoseok leans his head on Namjoon's shoulder and Just lets the alpha hold him.
If he’d come home to the four of you dead what would he have done? more accurately- What wouldn’t he have done?
Namjoon imagines it- the same way he's imagined it thousands of times. Tae's blood on her lips as pretty as any lip stain. Jin on the floor, his little big love wrapped up in permanent stillness like a mating shroud. Your body turned small and quiet the way you'd been when he'd met you- only so much worse. Hobi with his heart slow and absent of his near-constant music. Bodies stiff as statues, turned alters meant to worship both grief and love.
He’d probably have demanded Jimin and Yoongi tell him everything they knew. And then he’d have gone hunting.
Namjoon lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Hoseok only to continue dabbing at his wounds. The violence of his alpha's instincts calmed by the sanctity of this- of making it better. of being gentle even when namjoon wants to be anything but.
Hoseok’s mute. Throat too swollen to make more than a soft hissing sound on command. Vocal cords not damaged just swollen. Leaving his brain to hurdle through the last few hours. Eyes closed but his mind wide open.
He sees it all behind his eyes; your hand descending with the frying pan, the explosion of wood near his head. The splat of hot blood against the wood floor. Gasping and getting blood in his mouth accidentally. Choking in it- drowning a little. Everything. The sting of smoke on his eyes. Your words ring in his ears like the final notes of a symphony.
“You can take me. I’ll go with you. Willingly. That’s what she wants isn’t it?”
Hoseok’s brain teases through what you might have meant with that. The unnamed she that you mention. Who, why, and what aren’t you telling them? Is it the woman that Yoongi talked to you about before?
He's unable to say anything to Namjoon even as the alpha softy cradles his damaged throat. Unable to even whisper it out through the swelling that threatens to cut off Hobi's airway. It feels like he's breathing through a straw. Namjoon says he's not going to choke, that it only feels that way. The panic is hard to let go of.
But who do you have to go back to there? You've never talked about the family like you wanted them, like they were your pack. Who have you run from? What monsters are here to haunt you? Who is after you? Or is it something darker- more sinister?
Maybe Hoseok's heart has never truly healed from Yoongi leaving them. Maybe a wounded heart remembers. Yoongi always had them to go back to that Hoseok had never questioned. But he's never wondered about you or stopped to consider that maybe, Yoongi's not the only one who left something.
The family doesn't exactly seem like something you can walk away from unscathed. Yoongi managed it, but Jimin didn't.
Hoseok should warn Namjoon, should tell someone but- it's impossible. His airway protesting with an agonizing twinge with every attempt he makes at speaking. He wonders if this is what being nonverbal felt like for you.
The pain pulses dully without adrenaline to dilute it as Namjoon so lovingly examines the marks, again and again. But he shouldn't be spending so much time. You and Tae are bruised and battered too- even if Hoseok’s are by far the worst; you need tending to.
Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival.
Hoseok thinks of the body, not the one that sits downstairs, but the one that you found months ago in the ocean. Maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe none of this was. How far back do the coincidences go? Between Jin and Yoongi who wouldn't have a relationship to stand on without Yoongi's family- how many other things in the pack are because of this?
Hoseok struggles to speak, to talk to Namjoon about what you'd almost done, what you'd almost bartered- but nothing but air comes out, and the pack alpha shushes him. His hands grip Namjoon's shoulders hard.
Namjoon wishes he had more than just numbing cream and sutures for Hobi’s hurts. Jimin’s already offered up some of his opioids for Hobi to sleep and as much as Namjoon hates the idea of anyone swapping medication- Hobi might actually need them.
Jimin’s doctor had been a little bit liberal with them, sure that his 6 on the pain scale had to be at least a 9. He could spare one or two. The truth is that nothing hurts more than this- seeing the people that you love in pain. Jimin and Namjoon save their 10s for days like this.
With the blood cooling, Namjoon’s anger has nowhere to go. The body in the basement has already gone cold.
In the quiet of the house they can audibly hear Seokjin and Yoongi start mixing the concrete. The dull scrape of a shovel against a bucket and the sound of a faucet dripping.
Namjoon wipes at Hobi’s throat, and Hoseok tries again- futile in his efforts to speak. Namjoon shushes him.
In the basement it goes; drip, scrape, drip.
~-~
Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. She rests against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy.
So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.
He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, whether from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. Biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and tells him to keep going.
Evidence is evidence. Washing off can’t wait.
Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back.
You watch them from where you sit. Mostly you just watch Tae. When Namjoon's body doesn’t block your view. He stitches the gash on your forehead, hands pulling the sutures closed in a gentle and practiced way. The pass of the needle through your skin a distant sensation.
The wounds on your hands are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon sealed them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.
Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.
Namjoon apologizes after every wince.
The second he’s done he tosses his suture kit into the bathroom sink with a clang the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does.
Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic to cut down on the cleanup. Hoseok's bloody footprints join Tae's trailing from the doorway to the shower. Join the trail that you left. Parts of you are still dripping.
"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. Thumb skimming over the mark on your forehead.
You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth; you want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want Noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with. You want-
You want to snap at him and tell him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-
Namjoon kisses your forehead. A lingering brush. The one spot that's not bloody.
You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.
When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry. You’re not sure what for. The terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.
Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want to. It feels too much like a confession already.
“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”
“Namjoon-”
He continues on, words rushing out. “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack alpha-” You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.
The bit of gauze over your palm is already turning bloody. It's hard to tell if it's your blood or if it's his. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.
And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.
When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.
Namjoon stands and when you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.
Because the bandages and the glue on your hands can’t get wet Namjoon binds your hands with Ziplock bags and duct tape. The plastic rustles, and you follow Hobi's bloody footprints into Jungkook’s arms. Namjoon closes the door behind you.
Every bit of plastic is going to get melted down later, until all the blood and terror evaporates through something as simple and trivial as fire. Fire will cleanse it of all evidence, as sure as the burning water you step under.
You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the bullet holes in the walls or the blown-apart door to the upstairs bedroom, but Yoongi’s always had a handle on the home improvement stuff.
Jungkook helps you disrobe off your bloodied clothing. Lifting your shirt over your head and stooping, telling you to hold onto his shoulders so that he can take off your sweatpants. You're pretty sure they're Yoongi's but there's no time to get sentimental as he puts them inside a garbage bag along with Tae's and Hobi's clothes.
Everything on your person is evidence. When you look back Namjoon's gone, summoned by Jin's distant call from downstairs. It's just Jimin outside of the shower. watching you, but mostly watching Tae.
You’d be more self-conscious of your nude body if your brain wasn’t still racing. It’s hard to do much with the bags on your hands. But Jungkook squirts out a healthy dollop of your favorite shampoo and gets to work once the conditioner is in Tae’s hair. She sits like a discarded ball-jointed doll on the built-in bench. Her long hair hair stuck like a sheet over her eyes.
Nothing is as important as making sure you’re not found out. And the frothy shampoo turns rusty around Jungkook's fingers. You have to have a lot of blood on your face. All the water that rolls off of you goes pink.
Jungkook is gentle even by your hairline scratching against your scalp with his fingers. The skin there is tender. Namjoon taped a bit of gauze over the sutures too. You don't remember when he did that.
You make a noise. “Too rough?” his voice has something unreadable in it, something soft and concerned.
You don't respond because Yoongi makes his reappearance at the doorway. The black shirt he wears is dusty at the front from the concrete. His eyes single focused on you the second he enters the room. You stare at him the way that Tae stares at Jimin. Jungkook just huffs and pulls you a little more snugly against his chest.
Tae stands in the corner of the shower, still staring at Minnie. Minnie who stares back, practically not blinking. Both of their anguish are hidden behind glass. Like fish in tanks that could never get out. Not really.
Part of Tae gets washed away down the drain. Swirling and gurgling down and down with no one to notice.
Tae stares off blankly into space. Sometimes Jimin talks to her and sometimes he hums through the glass, he'd be in there too if his bandages couldn't get wet either. If Namjoon hadn’t yanked him back from the doorway and told him that he couldn't.
Jungkook takes the boar bristle brush to your body too. Everything has to be scrubbed multiple times until your skin feels nearly raw from it. Tae’s fingernails, her arms, your neck, the side of your face, the hollow at the inside of your arms. Your knees. Everywhere.
He apologizes when he goes over bruises, wincing, clutching you a little tighter, a little closer to make up for the pain. But Jungkook is meticulous as he cleans of evidence until you feel groomed clean. Until there’s no more blood swirling down the drain just clear water, and the light outside has turned pearly and blue in the twilight.
Tae's still silent. She's been quiet beyond the occasional heartbreaking whimper since you both killed that man. Eventually, You push at Jungkook's hands with a pointed look in her direction where she's slumped and he goes with a soft nod. Two omega's taking care of their alphas.
Jungkook’s delicate with Tae’s head, gentle in the way he cradles the bruising, half hidden by her hair. Washing out the conditioner with a quiet hum. Namjoon had diagnosed her with a concussion pretty quickly, it's not a crack in her skull plate but she's not going to go putting her hair up in a bun any time soon.
Jungkook alternates from you to Tae. One moment you're standing, the next Jungkook is taking you up gently from the floor and Yoongi is at the glass, hand on the door- looking at you anxiously. Letting out a volley of cursing. You can't remember the last time you heard him use language like that.
"Hyung she's fine- she's just slippery, I've got her."
Their voices are so soft and grave and so quiet. Or is it just that you can’t hear it? Why are their voices so far away and muffled? Sometimes Yoongi is here and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes Jungkook is holding you, talking to Namjoon about something, and other times he and Yoongi are talking. Keeping their voices low. Your ears ring. It's so loud it deafening.
“Do you need me to take over?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. Jungkook has blood on his feet, from you or Tae you’re not sure, it soaks the hair there. Jungkook’s got hairy fucking feet for an omega- you’re not sure why you’re concentrating on it. Why you’re noticing all these things now. Cataloging little things about them like you might never get the chance to notice them again.
Your heart beats quick, fear still consuming you even though the danger has passed. You look down at the tiled floor and the room spins.
You don’t feel a thing when you close your eyes. You don’t feel anything when you think of the man that you just killed. You don’t feel anything but roaring, like the crashing of the ocean or the sound when you lift your ear to a shell. The hearing in your left ear where the gun went off feels…off, muffled. You put your hand up to toy with it and freeze when you realize it isn't right.
"Guys" You paw at your ear. But they don't seem to hear you.
"No, I've got them.”
“We need to clean up the downstairs. Kookie, where do you keep the oxyclean?”
"Guys"
They still don't hear you. Maybe you're not making a sound at all just mouthing the words. Your movement gets Tae's attention and her eyes focus for the first time in hours. Slumped on the bench, her hand grips the tiled edge hard as she tries to stand but can't. Jungkook hands Yoongi something through the steam, the black trash bag full of bloody clothes.
The notice Tae trying to get to you first. she hits the floor with a small thud and tugs her way over to you. You make a noise in your throat- a distressed chirp that makes the alphas flinch. Tae cups your cheek as you dig your finger in, slippery from the plastic- and pull something small and fleshy out of your ear.
It's soft and squishy. A curved piece of pink and white brain matter. A little bloody but bleached from the water.
You try to stand to your feet but teeter, shaking, staring down at the chunk of person that you just got out of you, that was just in you.
For a second, no one says anything, but then-
“That’s so fucking gnarly.” Your head jerks up in Jungkook’s direction.
"I think I'm going to be sick," Tae actually does look a little green, but it's good to hear her voice at the very least. She hauls herself over to the drain and starts to dry heave.
"Oh tae don't-" the sound of vomit hitting the floor joins the sound of the shower. You don't look at her. just at the lump of person in your hand.
"Someone please take it from me," Jimin is already there opening the glass door and holding out a cloth for you to place it in.
Yoongi presses his hands to the glass as he watches you struggle to grab the brush that Jungkook was using on you from the floor after finally getting your feet under you. Jungkook is torn, his hand on Tae's shoulder as she wretches turning from her to you like he doesn't know what to do or who to help first.
You don't care about the state of your hands you just need to get clean. You Ignore the twinge of pain in your hands as you try and get the bottle of body wash open. Ripping off the plastic bags that cover your hands when you can't unclick the cap immediately. frustrated and panicking. You ignore Jimin calling your name. The gauze falls to the floor with a wet thwack and you take the boar bristle brush to your hands. Cuts and all.
Big hands stop you. Hands that dwarf yours. Hands that you'd know blind.
Yoongi's standing under the spray fully clothed, the water pinning down his hair and quickly soaking him. His hands tangling with yours, taking the brush from you. Wordless as he grabs your wrists and jerks you forward hard.
He holds on until you stop shaking. resting against his chest. guiding your face to his scent gland. "Take a deep breath for me now sweetheart- there you go- just like that."
Jungkook doesn't say anything and neither does Jimin, not as Yoongi starts to wash you again. Jungkook just stoops to lift Tae and place her back on the bench. She goes easy, limp, and doll-like. But she's almost done- she's almost clean. Tae pushes at Jungkook’s shoulders.
"I’m fine. I need to wait for the nausea to pass before I try getting out of here.”
With you, it's going to take a little longer.
Jungkook has already shampooed your hair, but he does it again. The telltale signs of rusty red in the peach-scented shampoo. Bubbling orange-pink. Yoongi does it slower, gentler- it feels more normal. Like the slow loving you're used to.
“Do you ever feel like-” your voice is a little crackly from all the screaming you did earlier. You hate how the terror makes you not remember all the details. Did you make any sound while you killed him? Did you say anything through the rage?
The others are looking at you but you have eyes for just Jimin. his hand tightens to fists, knuckles pressed against the glass. eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Do you ever not feel guilty? About killing people Minnie?”
You are nude, as bare as you’ve ever been before him, it's hard to be self-conscious about it. Maybe this would be a little sexier- showering with Tae and Jungkook and Yoongi with an audience if you weren't literally trying to cover up a very violent murder.
You remember the words Jimin had said to you weeks ago now. “Would you kill for me?” “I’d do worse” you wonder if this qualifies as worse. You can’t imagine what would be much worse than this.
Jungkook's hands are rough as they massage a bit of soap down your back but instead of being comforting, it feels like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.
Jimin hums. Eyeing Tae still sprawled on the built-in bench. Jimin gathers his thoughts before he speaks. “In my contract, at the beginning-” He starts but cuts off as you start to slip. Jungkook's hands find you, helping Yoongi hold you up more properly. Your mate doesn't let Jungkook take you entirely just moves a bit to the side to give him space. Any other day you'd love to be in the middle of a yoonkook sandwich but-
“Your contract?” he nods, blond hair bobbing. Yoongi meticulously removes the dried blood from under your fingernails, careful to hold your glue sutures out of the direct spray.
“I specified that I’d only ever kill bad people. of course I got a little lazier after I got used to it." He shoots an anxious glance in Tae's direction, but she's still just sitting. "But at the beginning, I’d go back and look through their files to try to find out what they’d done to warrant a hit getting taken out on them. I couldn’t always find a reason but most of the time I did."
You can see it in his face, that Jimin doesn't want to say that they deserved it. Because if they deserved a violent ending then you could say the same about the 8 of you. Jungkook's hands get a little close to the nape of your neck and you turn to him and snap.
"Don't scruff me."
"Sorry." You need it. Is what he doesn't say.
“Most of the time it was worth it?” You cling to his words. With Geumjae you’d never had to guess if he deserved it or not but this-
Jimin’s eyebrows are brought into a hard line, “Karma is a fickle thing. Sometimes it never comes but-” his eyes are downcast, "Sometimes it's a good thing, being the karma."
You sit quietly, digesting his words. Your lower lip trembles, and you don’t know if you feel terrible or better when the tears just won’t come. Yoongi delicately cradles your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you back against his chest.
“Yoongi.”
“Let me hold you for a minute.” You do, body sagging under the weight of your exhaustion.
Tae teeters in Jungkook’s hold, but she pushes against his hands weakly when he tries to make her stand again. Her voice sounds warbly and fragile when she shakes her head. “I’m still dizzy.”
He tries to guide her gently back to the bench, but she doesn't make it that far. Pushing away his hands when she descends to the marble floor. Closer to the wall, Closer to Minnie who mirrors her, falling to the floor too. Getting as closer to her as he can without being in the shower.
Jimin lets out a sad and bitter-sounding laugh and Tae smiles in reply while Jungkook and Yoongi share an anxious glance over your head.
He's still grinning, words twisting, eyes shining with sorrow and fondness. “You couldn’t wait 24 hours until you had to make it even, didn’t you?”
Tae closes her eyes as her smile twists and she starts to cry “Where you go, I go. We’re the same now Minnie.” Jimin doesn't mean to ask what she means. He knows.
If you're a killer I'm a killer. If you're damned, I'm damned. Even though neither of them believes in God or heaven or damnation. Not really. Not anymore. It's very half-hearted.
(I don't know if it's worth wondering if the people you love are bad people, I think when worse comes to worse, you just put the heaviness down and keep on loving them anyway).
Jimin’s eyes are soft on her, the way that they only ever are with Tae. He places his hand on the glass fogging around his fingertips. She doesn’t match his hands, just leans her cheek against it. Love is only a thin layer of glass away.
You know it hurts her a little bit, must make the dysphoria a little harder to breathe through, to let Jimin and Jungkook see her like this; just the long hair and nothing delicate to cloth her soul in. A soul that now you’ve irreparably tarnished.
A soul that is damaged beyond repair now thanks to you.
It is your fault. All of this is because of you. all of this pain and anguish and damage is because of the choices you've made. the stupid idiotic childish choices. If you'd never needed it- if you'd just been strong enough- Tae could have been whole. Tae could have been unharmed. Hobi and Jin too- if you’d just-
Back at the hospital, Tae had so many questions about Jimin’s job, so many questions about when and where, and why. But she finds her head empty of them in the aftermath. She has no desire to learn anything else about Jimin’s job. Not now that she knows what killing feels like.
Tae is never going to be able to look at red nail polish the same way again.
Jungkook reaches over and turns off the water.
~-~
Eventually, you finish washing. Wrapped up in fluffy white towels that will have to be burned too. The house smells like bleach and gunpowder. It covers everything.
Even the noodle is looking a little more grubby than usual when he zips by, meowing for someone to give him attention. You hear the saw going and you know that Yoongi is cutting the bullet holes out of the walls while the others clean up the blood.
Your skin feels pink and sensitive were the towel brushes as you go looking for pajamas, you'll get some for the others too. Later, Jin will fuss and ask to put some cream on you. Will massage it in something of an apology and pretend that Yoongi isn't going over the whole house with a blacklight to spot any errant blood splatters.
Later Yoongi will take a wood scraper to the floorboards where the man died, will rip them up, and burn them in the house's ancient fireplace just to be sure that no one finds any evidence.
You'll all pretend that Tae doesn't shake through a panic attack when you have an informal dinner in the nest. jin's rule of "no food in the nest" broken for this. You'll all pretend that Hoseok won't choke choking on all but the smallest sips of water. You'll all pretend. You're good pretenders, good liars too.
Later, Jin will put cream on your skin and dot it all with kisses, the swelling in his hands won't take too long to go down. You'll get the love and You won’t deserve a single second of it.
You don't know how you fooled yourself into thinking you ever deserved it. The last 8 months have been stolen. Not earned.
The one-year anniversary of Geumjae's death comes and passes as you go to the top of the stairs in your towel, Ears straining to hear what's going on downstairs.
There is a lot of talking going on downstairs, between Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. About what to do, and how to handle this. Hushed voices kept mostly out of earshot. And other more dangerous questions get asked, with equally as dangerous answers.
One of Jimin's guns sits on the kitchen counter through all of it. No one moves to put it away. They're not sure when they're next going to need it and they'd rather not get caught off guard again.
“I could talk to some people- call them. Some people owe me favors, There has to be some section of the family that doesn’t want her too-“
"Absolutely Not, I am not having you get into some weird ass mafia debt"
"Yeah, jailcell orange is so not your color hyung"
“We stay quiet. For the next 48 hours- it’s likely no one will know what happened. They’re too hurt- we need some time to regroup and think.”
Hobi’s voice is absent from the fray. You hear something quite like he's trying to speak, and someone shushing him softly. Namjoon says that his swelling won’t go down enough to talk until tomorrow. You hear the sound of someone opening the refrigerator to get ice.
The door to the bedroom has been blown apart, and a flurry of bullet holes chewed through the top corner. It sits off its hinges and in two pieces.
You remember watching Yoongi paint the door, sitting at the bottom of the stairs while he worked at the top of it and painted it to match the wallpaper in the staircase, a dark cobalt blue. You remember all of it, every little thing you watched him do to make this house into something worthwhile. To make it into a home and now it's riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood.
It's funny, you hardly remember every little thing he did for you, to make you worthwhile.
You have always been a reminder that you don't make houses out of abandoned buildings, and mates out of monsters that bite.
The water has turned the cuts on your hands white and gummy when you look down at them in the closet room. They’re already oozing, not bleeding, it will be at least a day or two until you can touch anything without discomfort. Namjoon will scold you ever so gently later and re-do your bandages.
The pink curtains are drawn already to keep out any wandering eyes from the outside. This is a dressing room after all. The whole room feels like a blush-toned jewel box and you, the one piece of cheap costume jewelry at the center.
You get up and shut the door before you sit on a small poof- something silky and tufted that Jimin had gotten Tae right after she'd come out.
You sit in your towel and look down at your wounds. Thinking about Tae's concussion. Jin's wrists. Hobi's throat. Both of their blank looks and the violence of death and trying to live. You think it all through, every possible ending to this before you pick up your phone and dial Her number.
Moonbyul picks up on the first ring. It’s like she’s been waiting for your call.
“Did you like your courting present pup?”
Your throat is dry and you don’t know exactly what to say, even less how to say it. She hums at your silence, an alpha's imitation of a purr. Waiting until your quietness builds to a frantic pulse.
In the pack, you've always been the one with the best survival instincts. Geumjae made you this way. Although the pack has spent the last few months trying to heal you; deep down you know you've never been anything more than a scared animal. Fight or Flight. Freeze or fawn.
Bullet to bullet. Tooth to tooth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. This time is different. This time you have something worth protecting.
You stand, no longer able to sit. There is a noise at the door, and you wait with bated breath for someone to come in. They don't come. But you stand and move farther inside. Hoping that the distance will disguise the sound of your whispered conversation.
She continues when it becomes clear you're struggling to speak. “I’ve got another one on the way. Hyejin’s here, wanna say hello? You’re on speaker.”
“Pup,” she giggles, and you feel like you might vomit. It’s a struggle really, not to end the call right there, not to let the fear overtake you. “We haven’t heard back from Spider yet, and I have a feeling someone’s been a little naughty.”
You lift the curtain to look outside, the train chugs past and the cars flit by like the fast small birds searching for seed in the snow. The whole world is grey and flat. The sky is orange from the lights of the city reflecting the clouds. The trees bare of all but a few crumbly leaves. It’s strange how all at once, the train is all you can look at. All you can think about.
You think about hoseok, the night at the train tracks where he stopped you from leaving. When he asked you to stay.
“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you to stop this, please.” Your voice sounds off, even for you. Too flat, strange even to your ears.
“I’m afraid we’re too far along for that.”
"Please, please Moonbyul-" You turn, pacing back towards the door. Past Tae’s clothes, past yours, past Jungkook’s, past the alcove where Hobi hangs his sweatshirts for you. You pause there. Looking at them.
“You said- you said when it was over you’d give me anything I wanted. Well I want them alive. Even if-"
Your voice is so shaky, you're careful to make sure you're not overheard. The pack is in the other room, just downstairs. You can hear the distant hum of their sweet voices; the people you love always sound like a melody. Your absence hasn’t been noticed yet.
"Even if I’m not here.”
For once they’re silent on the other end of the line. It’s a full silence, filled with one part lust and one part hunger. Both of them are like Noodle playing with a mouse. Waiting for the right time to drive their teeth in and end this game.
But even mice have teeth. Your hand is holding your phone so hard that the plastic makes your bones ache and your cuts bleed fresh.
“If you don’t let them live, I'll never stop fighting. But if you want me to be willing- If you want me to be your pup the way I think you do."
You can’t even close your hand into a fist with how wrecked your hands are. They hurt with every clumsy movement. you hold the phone. Your every heartbeat lurching with the horror of what you're doing.
I can’t lose them; I can’t be the reason why they die. They'll keep sending people until we're all dead unless I do something.
“All of them, all of them need to be safe, Jimin- you need to let him go of his contract and let him go back to living a normal life and you need to not punish Jin for working for the FBI.” Your words rush over themselves. "Leave my pack alone and I’ll be obedient. I'll be yours. I’ll never try and go back to them again. I won’t ever try and leave. I promise.”
Moonbyul and Hyejin are silent on the other end of the phone. You wait for a few moments. They must be looking at each other, deliberating.
Everything in this room aches. The closet bedroom that Yoongi made he made for you. The wainscotting just so. Everything in this house was crafted with an equal amount of love.
It was never meant to be yours forever, you’ve been keenly aware of this fact since the moment you met Yoongi. Since the moment you met his eyes across the dining room table and the moment his teeth met your skin. Borrowed things don't belong, they never do. Good things do not last. You only get them for as long as you get them and not a moment longer.
You're looking at Hobi's sweatshirts, in the alcove where he stacks them for you to take when Moonbyul and Hyejin respond.
“We'll agree to those terms, but remember their safety depends on your performance."
"You have 24 hours to get to us pup. Make them count.”
The dial tone drones like a funeral drum.
~-~
(Hoseok, a few years prior)
The backroom at the record shop is cramped with all sorts of things from a bygone era;
A mini fridge with a decrepit desktop computer and logbook balanced atop it. Pictures and bulletins glued to the wall from the 1960's. A greasy coffee machine piled high with bags of expired tea. A cramped spot for employees to hang their coats and a yellowing old table with a pair of chairs; both occupied by people also out of place. a beta that has a thing for 1980's rap and an alpha with a broken heart who admittedly loves 2010's pop.
A poster of some glittery showgirl omega from the 20s bats her eyelashes down at Hoseok as he has a mental breakdown. Offering neither comfort nor absolution nor love.
Maybe if he'd been born an omega like that, it would have been easier. Maybe they'd have wanted him then.
Yoongi's hands rub down Hoseok's shoulder, his back, places only lovers have touched. Up and down. An endless circle. An ouroboros of affection nibbling Hoseok's fickle heart. Hoseok aches harder with every passing moment.
Yoongi looks at the clock as Hoseok continues to sob. The shop should be open right now but Yoongi won't let it. It can go out of business for all he cares. As long as no one makes Hoseok get up from this chair before he's ready.
Beta instincts are fickle things, but Yoongi has always had a third sense. Something in him always knows if people are trustworthy and if they need him. Something in their scents or faces or eyes- like small planets reflecting the cosmos back to them. Do planets bear life only when someone is willing to look for them? Do people only deserve help when they're willing to ask for it? or is it like this?
Eventually, Hoseok gets his breath back in his chest and his sobs quiet down. His eyes open bloodshot. All sadness has an expiration date (thankfully). Yoongi's hand slides down his arm and gives his hand a firm squeeze (and stays there).
It's the first time someone's touched Hoseok without wanting something in God knows how long but he's too sad to properly appreciate it or savor it. (Yoongi doesn't want anything from him that Hoseok wouldn't willingly give. Doesn't want anything but his smile. fuck- he's just a co-worker, isn't he?). Who knows when the next touch like this might come? (Yoongi is going to hold his hand tomorrow because Yoongi likes holding people's hands, Jin will give him the tacit permission to do that at least. But all of the pack are keenly aware that Hoseok needs time to heal, no matter how obvious Yoongi's crush and Hoseok's needs).
(Hoseok is definitely not just Yoongi's coe-worker at this point, but saviors come from all sorts of unlikely places)
Eventually Hoseok's sobs quiet and Yoongi sighs, pulling back. He takes one look at hoseok's red nose and pale cheeks and puffs up. "I'm making your hot chocolate and you're going to tell me what's happened."
He gets up like he needs something to do. Like he's tired of taking care of Hoseok. He doesn't take it personally, he's tired of it too.
“My mates they- they kicked me out of our den,” Hoseok confesses. Yoongi's got two mugs in his hands, they thud against the counter when he reaches into one of the cabinets.
It’s warm in here but Hoseok is still thankful for the sweatshirt the beta gave him. Not only for its warmth but for the layer of scent it provides; It’s soaked with the smell of chocolate. So comforting and heavenly that it makes Hoseok a little dizzy when he tucks his nose into it and takes a hefty sniff when Yoongi's got his back turned.
Hoseok was never given the other pack's items, never allowed or encouraged to indulge in their scents. They never asked for his either.
Yoongi hangs both their jackets above the radiator in the back so that they’ll dry faster. He bears an impressive bite mark on his arm, visible because of his short-sleeved shirt. It's bruised just ever so slightly- an alpha bite but not a mating bite because betas don't mate. A mark like that on him is as good a claim as any. Even with the other scents that cling to the sweatshirt.
Hoseok hasn’t known him long, but they’re friends even if they’ve never met up outside of work. You can't not be friends with someone you spend upwards of 30 hours a week with.
Yoongi just hums. "Have you been with them long?"
Hoseok appreciates that Yoongi doesn't use the past tense, his heart too tender around the idea of endings. Some part of him is unconvinced that it really is over. A stubborn heart for a stubborn alpha.
His hair is starting to dry when he nods. "It's been a few years." Hoseok bites his lip, "I could lie and say I didn't see signs but-" his hands end up in his hair, elbows leaning against the creaking yellow table. Tugging a little. "I'm so fucking stupid."
"I don't think you're stupid," Yoongi says, hand on the back of his head. warm rough fingers. Touching him ever so briefly as he passes to put the milk back in the mini-fridge. "It's not stupid to want to find more love where you got it."
But in truth, There's not much more than Yoongi can say. Not much more that he knows to say. He'd never met Hoseok's pack. Whereas Namjoon and Jimin and the pups have a general tendency to linger around Yoongi person at all hours and locations. Stopping by to drop off coffee or just to make funny faces at him through the window when they're on their way to work. Yoongi has never met his co-worker's pack and has never seen much evidence at all on him beyond some vague hints of scents.
That alone is enough of a hint; usually, when people have packmates they're soaked in their scents. Visceral claims to keep any wandering eyes wandering still. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why Hoseok didn't wear his packmate's scents.
It’s not like the alpha smells bad at all- a little strong sure, but less genetically dominant alphas tend to smell a little sweeter like omegas.
At least that’s what Namjoon says when he feels like info dumping. Late at night when the pack asleep around them and only Yoongi's stayed up to listen. Because Yoongi likes the sound of Namjoon's voice when he gets into the details. Stroking across Namjoon’s bare chest just to feel the alpha's words rumble against his fingertips. His heartbeat against his ear the backtrack for all of it.
Whoever Yoongi’s pack is; they surely love him a lot. That much has been evident since the second that Hoseok met him. Evident in the packed bento boxes and the bunny-eyed omega that walks with him to work sometimes. Or in the tall omega and alpha pair that Hoseok has seen perusing the shelves when he comes in to relieve Yoongi of his shift.
Hoseok has worked here for 6 months. It’s impossible not to collect these details. The hickeys on his throat that he wears after weekends, how ruffled but generally loved Yoongi looks when he comes back from rut and heat leave.
“Is there a reason why they left?” Yoongi tries to be as undiscerning as possible. Voice gentle and measured. Stirring the hot cocoa and putting it in front of Hoseok.
Hoseok takes a sip and it feels like he's drinking a cup of the beta in front of him. Yoongi melts a little into the chair at the happy noise Hoseok makes.
It's good. Really good actually, Yoongi uses twice as much Swiss mix as the package instructs and a tablespoon of honey to boot. More chocolate can never be a bad thing.
Before Hoseok has a chance to respond, The phone next to the cabinet rings. And Yoongi takes it off the stand and hangs it up again in quick secession so that it doesn’t ring anymore. It has to be important but he ignores it for Hoseok's sake. Yoongi does a lot of ordering for the shop, the rare records that their boss is always trying to source and sell. It's a lot of chasing down leads and curators.
(This is not true. This is a lie that Yoongi and his boss have fed him. This phone is set up for the family's use. Hoseok doesn’t know that most of the calls Yoongi answers are more delicate than just simple stock orders.)
“I just found out that my brother has stolen from me, what should his punishment be beta?”
“How much did he steal?”
“300k”
Yoongi swallows, fighting his narrow margin of benevolence. The drops of mercy that he's allowed to show without suspicion. He tells himself that the other beta would order a far worse. People only call him when they want lighter punishment.
“A finger for every 100 then.”
The people who call ask him all manner of things. Things like “I think my child might be planning on going to the police, what should I do before anyone finds out about it?” He is both a secret keeper and a jury.
“Send them away. Out of sight and out of mind of anything that they might be able to share. I hear the military academies are lovely this year. So much snow. Yes, they take omega recruits.”
“My firstborn child presented as an omega instead of an alpha. They're my firstborn and heir, how should I proceed?”
“I can ask around for an advantageous match but I’m sorry, there is no fixing presentation.”
Hoseok hasn’t seen a phone like that in years. Didn’t even know they made old-fashioned ones like that anymore. Ones with a dial, the blue plastic worn from the number of times Yoongi's had to pick it up. It doesn't stay silent for long, ringing soon after yoongi's hung it up.
“I'm the only- they’re an all-omega group.” As if by the mention of his sub gender Hoseok’s angry burning sugar scent fills the room. In reply, Yoongi’s sweetness rises. Hoseok takes another sip and pretends it's just the hot chocolate warming his cheeks. “I guess they wanted to keep it that way.”
"I've got two omegas and they keep me on my toes, I can't imagine four." That gets a laugh out of Hoseok.
"You've got a bunch of alphas in yours though, right?" A bunch already, I wouldn't be needed. Hoseok has seen them, the tall one with dimples that looks like something out of a soap opera. The scary-looking one with the chubby cheeks who's always holding hands with the pretty academic one who likes the jazz in the corner.
Yoongi nods, "That must be nice," Hoseok's eyelashes are all clumped together from the tears. "Having so many people to take care of you."
Yoongi hums, knuckles brushing Hoseok’s hand on the table. It’s just one tender touch but Hoseok starts to break. To crumple.
Yoongi senses Hoseok breaking, pulling him in close before he has a chance to really fracture (he comes just in time, Yoongi loves Hoseok just in time). Yoongi’s scent alone is enough to soothe him- beyond the way he guides the alpha to rest against his throat. Hoseok fights it only a little, what's a little scenting among friends?
They're not just friends, it's not just scenting.
Hoseok wants to bury his nose in the beta’s throat, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, not with the scent of so many others clinging to him. He still sags into the hug. Turns his face away to avoid the temptation.
“They didn’t even tell me- and now the lease on the apartment is up and I can’t afford it on my own and-“ I’m so scared and I just wish there was someone to take care of me. I wish I was a pup again.
They sit like that at the table and Yoongi just lets him cry, He pulls back after his sobbing has cooled. They hug until they both smell like gooey chocolate chip cookies with too much brown sugar.
Hoseok sniffles, “We have to open up the shop,” Yoongi's arms tighten around Hoseok's shoulders in reply.
“It can wait a few more seconds.” Hoseok wants to say that the owner wouldn’t like that but he doesn’t.
Yoongi sips and hesitates. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Hoseok pauses for a second, flushing before he shakes his head. “Okay, it's okay. You can say with me.”
“Are- are you sure they won't mind?” But Yoongi is already typing away on his phone, shooting a quick text to the pack group chat (a chat that Hoseok will be added to in exactly 23 days, but who's counting?)
“Not at all. It’s a bit cramped with all of us but we have a spare bed in the closet room that Tae likes to read on sometimes- Jungkook's boss slept there last night after they came back from drinking and Namjoon was so mad- he won't be mad about you though- it's just that Jungkook- he just really shouldn't be drinking."
"Is he underaged?"
"No, he's just got health issues."
"Oh." Yet another person who gets the love he needs, the care he needs. Hoseok tries and fails miserably not to be jealous over Yoongi's omega whom he's never met.
He won't be jealous for long. Later Jungkook is going to challenge him to an arm wrestle just to prove he doesn't need babying. Beating alphas in feats of strength is his favorite thing. He'll feel Hoseok’s hand in his and get completely distracted. "Wow, you've got like- really pretty hands!" and drag them close to his to compare sizes. He'll be smitten nearly instantly with Jungkook- for what it's worth. The jealousy only lasts for a few hours.
Within a few seconds his phone is ringing off the hook, he shows Hoseok the chorus of, “Yes it’s okay!” and “Poor thing, tell him he can stay as long as he wants.” "Of course hyung!" "Does Hoseok like kimchi-jjigae or should we just order pizza?" “Oh! Can we get some with pineapple?” “Gross Jk.” "Yeah we all know Minnie doesn't like the aftertaste of burnt fruit."
And Hoseok can't help but feel like he doesn’t deserve this kindness and such an effortless acceptance. There is a knock at the front door before he can say anything. A few short taps against the glass. Yoongi tells Hoseok to stay put while he goes to deal with a pushy customer who wants in. Leaving him alone in the backroom with his cooling hot coco and the poster still staring down at him.
(They say two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, but that's not the only way a secret stays buried; the best secrets are the ones you’re not even aware of.
Out of all the people in your pack. Hoseok is the only one in possession of a secret like this. The best kinds of secrets are the ones you don't even know are secrets see- he doesn't even know that this memory is enough to save you. Hoseok is entirely unaware that in his mind lies this memory.
Hoseok was the first person to get on the no-kill list, and it wasn’t because of Yoongi.
All packmates of a Don get put on the list;
no matter if they're active or past.)
Sitting at that yellowing wood table; Hoseok feels more settled now that he knows he has a place to sleep tonight that isn’t this backroom. Pulling the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweatshirt over his palms and sniffing at the collar where it was pushed up against Yoongi’s scent gland.
If he thinks hard, he can pick out a few scents here and there soaking the fabric. (Milky Omega Jin, Honey Sweet Puppy Jungkookie, Cinnamon sweet Alpha Tae and vanil-lalalala Jimin, Coffee Alpha Namjoon and Chocolate Yoongi).
It's so different from his ex-pack's scents. Their sugary sweet omega peppermint and sharp lemony evergreen, winter berry and pine, the cold smart of snow against his nose. His burning caramel scent- so off-putting. The one scent not Christmas-themed. The one that didn’t fit.
By comparison- Yoongi's pack smells like a bakery in summer. Every scent that could be added to a cake maybe (one day, in the kitchen, he’ll eat your tiramisu and realize yes- that’s exactly what it’s missing. Your cakey scent makes them all complete, the warmth of baking things).
He has somewhere to go now. Somewhere to be. Someone to trust. He trusts Yoongi- even if they’ve only known each other for a handful of short months.
And Yoongi’s pack can’t be worse than his last one.
As if in reply to Yoongi’s phone (buzzing with more texts that he doesn't check because Hoseok is nothing if not respectful of people's digital privacy. If he checked he would see "Is that the hot coworker you're always talking about? The one who always looks a little sad?")
Hoseok’s phone buzzes with the notification he's been waiting for.
Pack Omega 🌙 calling.
Pick up? Decline?
Hoseok hasn't yet gotten around to changing her contact information. He scrambles at it, spilling the hot cocoa across the table as he rushes to pick it up. Scrambling to get to it before it goes to voice mail. Blood pounding in his ears.
Hoseok’s voice is broken as he says his pack omega’s name, his old pack omega’s name.
“Byulyi- Moonbyul please-”
Moonbyul is cold on the other side of the phone. Maybe she’d have liked him more, and wouldn’t have given up on him if he didn't beg. But Hoseok has never been above begging. Not for love. Not for the thing he wants and needs the most. Hoseok needs love more than air and as Yoongi said- it's easiest to go looking for love where you once got it.
Even when you know it could hurt you.
Her voice is flat and unaffected. “I just wanted to make sure you found a place to stay tonight. Are you still going to be around to give the landlord the keys?”
Hoseok finds himself nodding even though he knows she can’t see him. “Yes- I can do that, I can do anything you want. Can we talk?”
“No.”
“Moonbyul please-”
“Goodbye Hoseok.” She says, hanging up after a second. Hoseok looks at the phone. Pushing the button to redial. It doesn't go. She’s already blocked him.
It will be a long time until Hoseok hears from his last pack again, a long long time until he says their names again. He will remember the way he’d begged, the way her name had sounded smack dab in the middle of it. And hate hate Hate how it makes him feel. He won't ever say their names, regret and self-disgust getting in the way.
It's a little funny, thinking of how different things might have gotten if he'd just told yoongi their names. If he hadn't let his alpha pride get in the way. A few days from now they'll talk about it together. "I don't like the way saying their names makes me feel- it feels- I hate how much I want to say it- to see them again- saying their names just reminds me of the power they had over me."
Never again, will Jung Hoseok beg for someone to give him the bare minimum. This is his lowest point. The moment where it shifts- for good.
His head is in his hands when Yoongi comes back into the room. Still sniffling, crying yet again. Yoongi sets a palm in his hair, ruffling it. Eyeing the spilled hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow.
“If you wanted coffee you could have just said so-“ he makes an attempt at levity and is rewarded with Hoseok’s small snort. Wiping his wet cheeks. Neither of them is aware of the secret. Neither of them is aware and so much worse off for it."
Hoseok grins, “Are you buying hyung?”
~-~
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Notes:
in the story there has always been this question- mainly raised by jimin during his secret chapters- if the m/c is actually in love with them or if she's just manipulating them- at the beginning of this chapter- we actually see jimin finally dispel the last bit of him that thinks even a little bit that this is the case. once he sees how much she put her body on the line- that question isn't even in the back of his mind- even a little. i ended up re-editing this part alot because of it.
every time i write something from jimin's pov i'm always like "why is everything so meandering? why are things disjointed?" and then i remember that's literally jimin's character- that he is in a lot of ways an unreliable narrator.
(TW) i have this idea in my head that namjoon DOES NOT become a good person in the event that all of them die like- a whole separate idea of him becoming a doctor for the family through yoongi's connections with the soul purpose of one day killing moonbyul and her entire pack…including their pups on accident which ends up destroying the last bit of namjoon's innocence as a person…and he ends up becoming one of the families assassins alongside jimin as a result, in this event jungkook does not stay with them and instead moves on and yoongi stays and tries to get them to stop only to ask them to kill him as their last kill because he's unable to cope with the loss of jin, hobi, the m/c and tae. BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS THAT IS NOT THIS STORY.
i think in this story there is this really interesting dynamic of femininity and death and morality- that being said red nail polish is definitely a metaphor for whose comfortable killing and who isn't. i like the contrast between tae who will never wear red nails again- vs the moon pack who all are not allowed out of the nest if their nailpolish isn't perfect like- thats another layer of the fucked up shit.
are you suprised that the m/c is going to leave? Did you see it coming from a mile away? i mean...it is in the title of the series 😈
….the parallel between hobi losing his voice and the m/c not having a voice at the beginning of the series- you can project whatever meaning you want onto that <3
also on that subject the line "Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival." it's worth mentioning that thats not what i think is the most necessary thing to their survival but it is their own interpretation of what keeps them alive. like i for one actually think that the m/c is a lot more pragmatic than anyone gives her credit for but i digress. i could go on about all of their strenghts.
what did you guys think about hobi's secret reveal???? a fair amount of people have guessed it and i think when someone got it at the beginning of the series i lied and said it wasn't- i'm allowed to be an unreliable narrator too!!! kudos to everyone who got it! i feel like it could have been revealed better and originally the big one off was slated for next chapter but i decided to shift it to this one (mostly because i think the next chapter is about to get up there in terms of word count tbh 😭) but T-T its done now! please give me praise because i'm baby and this week has honestly been really hard
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adonis-koo · 4 months
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sweet nothing • 9
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| in which he patiently waits one day at a time|
↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.
His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader
↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!
Word count: 2.9k
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Note: no matter how many scenes i write, they're all sad and i'm kinda sorry bc i said this fic wasn't going to have much plot but it somehow has a lot of plot now??? and its kinda sad??? HERE YOU GUYS GO THO
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The commotion going on in the estate wasn’t difficult to tell, men had been actively walking more than their usual rotations required and Jungkook knew this was a sign you were causing some sort of chaos as you seemed to do every day now. 
And upon following the trail it led him just a door down from your own room, items being moved and you were currently pouting as you sighed. 
“Do tell me what your idea is for this little renovation project.” Jungkook hummed, leaning against the door, not actually annoyed at how much you always move things around in his estate in fact…Dare he say he felt a little endeared. 
And Jungkook found himself falling into old habits, habit he found himself missing, such as being able to take the time to admire you, all thoughts of work fading from his head at the sight of your dress, just past your knees and a faded checker blue, flowing sleeves that went to your elbows for room and of course the ever growing bump. 
Your hands were set around it seemingly pouting over something before his words drew you out of your thoughts, “Jungkook, I didn’t realize you were home so early.” 
“I have a meeting I have to attend in person later,” Jungkook replied, “You didn’t answer my question.” 
There it was again, that small pout he hadn’t realized he missed so much until it dawned your lips once more, “Well…” You seemed a bit hesitant before you spoke, “I gave it some thought- what we talked about a few days ago, about a nursery and I figured you were right. It’s better we be prepared for it then not.” 
Jungkook was relieved to hear this because while he was trying his hardest to get something on Wonho, there was a smaller, more selfish part of him that enjoyed this, enjoying having you at his estate.
An even smaller part of him not wanting it to end so soon, he had to let go of you once and no it wasn’t fair, but even there was even the slightest chance…well, he didn’t want to let it slip through his fingers and have to let you go once again. 
Jungkook only nodded, “So what's with the look then?” 
“Well,” You gave him a sheepish smile, “I had all of this stuff moved out and realized I have nothing to actually put in here…” 
Jungkook couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he pushed off the frame stepping into the room, “Hm, that’s a strange way to ask for money.”
“Jungkook I wasn’t-”
“I’m teasing relax,” Jungkook cut you off, your lips tugging even poutier, you had always been like this, since day one in fact, always worried he’d think you were using him for money, always trying to deter him from paying even if you didn’t have the means to actually afford it yourself. 
It was sweet, “But you’re also in no position to not accept it and I have more than enough money to afford it- it’s a win win.” 
You stared at his outstretched hand, black shiny amex in his hand, “I don’t feel right just using it.” 
Jungkook sighed wistfully, “You didn’t seem to feel too guilty helping your brother with rates and statistics for drug sales.” 
Your lips parted somewhat in surprise, “That was different…!” 
“You’re right,” There it was that stupid teasing, charming smile of his, “It was probably worse.” 
You knew he was only teasing, but something about it made you feel gross still, you had a reason you were in that room, a reason that is long gone from you now, “Well it doesn’t matter anymore does it?” 
Jungkook paused at the sight of your expression dimming as you continued looking out the open window as your hand absently rubbed your bump, “I haven’t done that for a long time now…”
“Y/n I didn’t mean-”
“I know,” You cut him off softly looking back at him and there was an unmistakable look of regret in his eyes, not wanting to cross any lines with you but you were afraid they already had, “I just…I guess I just have some regrets about getting involved….I never wanted to hurt anyone,” You whispered out, “I had a reason I was there and it had nothing to do with the money...For myself at least.” 
Jungkook frowned, there were still so many things he didn’t know about you, your time together having been cut short when you both had first met, “What other reason could there be?” 
It was an indirect question, rather than a rhetorical one, you knew what he was asking. 
You hesitated, but then again, you supposed it didn’t matter now, it was all in the past, no matter how dull it made your heart ache. 
“Well…” You let out a soft sigh, “I’m sure you remember I wasn’t exactly financially stable, and for me that was fine. It was enough,” You nodded to yourself in thought, “It wasn’t much, but it was enough.”
“Until…?” 
“I received a phone call,” You mumbled, recalling the event, “A foster agency, telling me that they did a DNA test on one of their cases and it came out as a match on me and my brother. Just a week old, dropped off right outside the police station.” 
You had to bite down on your tongue, you had thought you were over it, but it still stung just as raw, “Since we were her only blood family I was given the opportunity to adopt her…” You let out a sigh trying to keep it together, “Except I was too poor, I didn’t even come close to having a qualifying salary to show that I could be responsible for her and take care of her…”
“What about Wonho?” Jungkook cocked his head to the side, baffled at this information. 
You let out a loud scoff, bitterness that you had tried so hard to let go of coming back up as you shook your head, “Wonho didn’t give a shit, told me that it wasn’t our problem but I struck a deal with him, if I helped him up until his annual evaluation with you for his first year of work, he’d help me get the expenses that were required to foster her.” 
Jungkook’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “And?” 
There it was, that little niggle in your head that was angry about it all, angry at Wonho, angry at yourself, especially at Jungkook, “Well all of it fell apart. Very quickly, one thing after the other. I mean obviously you dropped off the face of the planet for months so Wonho wasn’t making money- I got let go of my job because of the murder- everything went void.” 
Jungkook looked away with a long inhale as if he had been mentally prepared for the moment you’d finally cave and say it, but it wasn’t as if you were wrong, you were simply stating a fact, he completely ghosted you and civilization as everyone knew it and just like that, he had left your life as quick as he entered. 
It was difficult to not be angry about it when he was the one that convinced you that the very thing you were afraid of wouldn’t happen, just for a few short months later, let it happen. And you were sure he had his reasons, you were certain of it, but it didn’t change the fact that he left you with little to no explanation and just like that, never bothered to come back, didn’t even so much as send a letter, a proper apology, nothing. 
“I’ve…” Jungkook’s eyes squinted on the ground, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, about what happened.” 
You shook your head, “Jungkook, it’s been two years,” Your voice softened, his eyes glancing up to meet yours and once again you felt the dull ache that never went away, “I shouldn’t of brought it up, I’m sorry…it’s in the past now, life went on.” 
“Well it didn’t for me.” Jungkook let out a small breath and you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. 
Your lips quivered a little, “Do you have any right to say that?” 
“Probably not,” When did he get this close to you, “But it doesn’t change how I feel.” 
Old feelings were like a dam bursting inside you and you began to shake your head, “I’m not ready to talk about this Jungkook- can’t we just keep pretending like nothing happened?”
Jungkook shook his head, “We’ve both tried this and neither of us are good at it Y/n, I can’t, not when I have a second chance.”
You raised your brows, “No! No this is…” You took an immediate step back, “This is not what this is Jungkook, what happened is over. I’m only staying here because Wonho has a target on his back and you were kind enough to keep me out of the crossfire.” 
“Maybe that’s how it started out,” Jungkook replied just as quick, taking another step closer to you, “Look…I know it’s not fair,” He frowned, as if he hated saying it, “I had every intention to stay out of your life, it wasn’t fair to drag you along back then and that’s why I didn’t, but…You’re here now, right in front of me. So yes…I do see it as a second chance, and if there’s any way I can make it right, I will.” 
You groaned, “It’s not just making it right anymore!” You wanted to scream! “I have baggage now Jungkook!” Your eyes threatened to water as your hands dropped from your stomach, “A lot of it. It’s not just me anymore I’m getting ready to have a baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking for.” Jungkook sharply replied, eyes brewing with anger, “And what I’m asking for is you, all of you.”
“You had your chance and you left me, plain and simple, you left. I don’t understand why now…Out of all the time, two years later, now…!?” You hadn’t meant to raise your voice, but you were angry, perplexed, scared. 
Scared just the way you were when he was upfront the first time in that stupid bakery you wanted nothing more then to pretend like didn’t happen, you wanted to pretend like you never got drunk at that stupid bar, that he wasn’t late that day, that he didn’t sat down and offer to pay for your meal for making you wait. 
You wanted to pretend like he had actually listened for once when you declined him asking you out, that he didn’t visit you every morning at work, and more then anything you wanted to pretend like you had a stronger will, that you didn’t let him convince, your mind was flooding with so many memories of him. 
His hand trailing down your thigh while drunk in the back of his car, his eyes when he saw the bust in your lip, his smile when your fingers intertwined with his, his skin etched into yours for the first time, ushered sweet nothings that he’d love you forever. 
But at the time you didn’t realize that forever would only be a short three months then just like that, it was over, and oftentimes you were left many sleepless nights wondering, was it even love? Everything had happened so fast, it felt like forever. 
But two years later, standing in front of him you realized it had been two agonizingly long years since you saw him in person. 
“I made a choice,” Jungkook defended himself, “I stuck to that choice…I was leaving you alone, even if I didn’t want to and then…” He ran a hand through his hair, revealing his face in full detail his eyes baffled as if trying to understand himself, “Suddenly one night you’re dropped in the middle of my office. I didn’t have any pretenses, I was just being nice letting you stay here, I had fond memories of our time together, I didn’t want to let you get caught in the crossfire- it was the least I could do after everything.” 
You crossed your arms as he continued, “And then…I don’t know,” He muttered, “I look at you, I see your smile, I see you standing here pouting and trying to do it all yourself, like you always tried to do. And suddenly it’s two years ago and we’re both drunk sitting at the bar talking about what it would be like to be in love. And I feel the exact same way I did back then, looking at you and wondering if maybe I had finally found it.” 
You felt physically sick, it was like he was intentionally wanting to break your heart all over again, “You sent them to raid my home, you can’t tell me this wasn’t planned…”
“I didn’t expect them to fuckin’ kidnap you Y/n!” Jungkook let out a hurt laugh, running his hand through his hair, “In fact I gave them direct instruction to do the shakedown while you were at work and to not destroy your apartment- you were supposed to be at work!” 
“Well I wasn’t!” You shouted back, “I wasn’t feeling well and my coworker offered to cover! You can’t do this to me! You can’t, not after all this time…” You voice died down, “You can’t just…open all of this back up as a second chance because you’re feeling nostalgic over a fling-”
“You were never a fling to me-”
“That’s how I felt after you left-” You suddenly winced, hand immediately pressing to your stomach, instinctual almost despite the pain coming from your chest, Jungkook’s eyes immediately widening and he had closed the small gap between you both. 
“Let’s get you sat down…” Jungkook murmured and you couldn’t help but stare at his hand, big and calloused, multiple rings just the way you remembered, pressed against your bump and a wave of intense sadness thrummed in your heart, what you’d give to go back and change everything. 
You were too tired to fight his touch, and a smaller part of you crying– begging inside your mind to just give in, to put your worries aside and roll the dice again, maybe he’d actually keep his promise this time. 
But you refrained from leaning against him too much as he sat you down on the bed in your room, phone immediately in hand as he called Doctor Choi, after hanging up the air was thick with a silence and tension. 
Jungkook sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, “...If you don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t. I don’t want you going into preterm…But…I want you to know I didn’t make that decision because I wanted to, and I didn’t do it easily either.”
You self soothed, rubbing your tummy as your eyes closed, “I know you didn’t. At least that's what I told myself the last few years, that surely there was a really good reason…And you wanna know the worst part Jungkook?” You whispered, sad eyes as you opened them to look at him, “I waited…I waited every day, sat at that stupid register hoping you’d come, even after Wonho stopped talking to me I went to the Red Light anyways, hoped maybe you’d be there. There wasn’t a day I didn’t check my phone only to be disappointed by your name not being on the screen…”
It was silent again before you tried to hold back your tears, “You broke my heart. Right in two, promised you wouldn’t leave me, and then you did. And now you’re asking me for another chance?” 
You said you wouldn’t cry, but here you were softly weeping in your bed, feeling like a child once again, helpless and wondering why no matter how hard you tried, nobody ever stayed, you had thought he was different, but it turned out he was just like the rest. 
Jungkook’s hands cupped your cheeks, thumbing the tears away as he pressed his forehead down to yours, “For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” He murmured, “I’m just as much a sinner as anyone else, I’m ill-tempered and cruel, I’ve killed a lot more people then you could ever imagine, but most of all Y/n, I’m selfish, I’m not really a good man. But I could be good, for you.” 
“You don’t know how bad I really want to believe you,” You whispered out, “But I had so long to think about it, to look back and realize I know nothing about you. It was my own fault really, you’re not a good man and I knew that back then, just like I know it right now.”
“I know I hurt you,” Jungkook had a sort of determination in his eye, the kind that you knew was unwavering, he meant every word he was saying, “But there hasn’t been a day I wished it could be different. I’ll do whatever is necessary to earn your trust again.”
You pressed your lips together for a long moment, “I’m not saying it isn’t possible, but you have a long way to go if you really want it.” 
Jungkook’s long slim finger traced down your jawline, “I’ll take it one day at a time, just like the first time.” 
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forthechubbies · 8 months
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Seven Days to your heart {Rated: X}° Drabble Redemption Pile
Idol! Jungkook x Chubby!Reader
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! Toxic relationship,Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, and aggressively loving Jungkook
It took place during a romantic meal with candles. Naturally supported by jungkook, your covert sweetheart. The seductive thrill of secrecy quickly started to fade. And you both uncomfortably aware of it. -
" Jungkook. "
He may be so childish at times, "No. "I hate it when you sound like that," He declares with a cute-pout.
You scoffed. "Well, this is not going away." You do something you'll soon regret when you finally reach across the little coffee table to meet eyes. Your boyfriend's bulging red eyes made your heart swell as you said, "Look at -." Is this why it's so dark in here? "..
You signed, planting a small peck to his forehead. " We need to talk about it. "
Your love is disintegrating right before your eyes. The last thing jungkook needs is to be in a relationship given the international rumors, his separation, the threats, the stress, and his work. He hardly ever has time to take a shower.. -
" I'm doing this for - "
"My own good—what a load of bullshit." He struck the table as he got up and walked away.He patted his pockets.
You stared at him at first, unable to speak. "Bullshit! You're only kidding yourself if you believe this will work." As you were tidying up jungkook's mess, you spoke the truth. "You don't even have time for yourself. not to mention me.
"You haven't even tried, you-! The fuck!" A white pack of cigarettes fell from Jungkook's jacket's pockets after a strong shake. A lot of celebrities wed regular folks. "Why can't we be like them?" As he walked to the porch to smoke, he yelled angrily.
When did he start smoking? As hot as he looks you couldn't help but worry . " because you receiving death threats when we hadn’t even public about any of thing.." You can't find the words to express the feeling in your heart. "Just think for once. "
He chuckled. " I'm not worried about threats, sweetheart., " he promised; releasing smoke through his nose.
It's tough to believe a hard headed man-like him can walk this earth. " Are you even listening to me?! "
" I guess I have to love you harder than if the problem is you want more attention." The alcohol must finally be getting to him, he blew his pull before pulling you in close. "Whatever my baby want. She gets.."Kook snaked behind you; trapping you in his arms.
Your attempt to ignore him as he lapped up the vulnerable region between your ear and neck backfired as you rolled your eyes. He nearly won, but you changed your mind.You pushed him away and said, "This isn't a negotiation; kook," as you made your way to the entrance. "We are done."
The brute idol clutched you back by your plump waist as you dashed to the door with your heels clicking. Jungkook didn't take long to push his hands up your dress and stick his tongue down your throat.
The entire evening was hazy. As jungkook threw you over his shoulder, the last flashing memory was of the entrance door.
Next morning
Due to Jungkook's absence, you welcomed the sun alone.
While you slept off your tiredness, a series of messages informed you of what was occurring. He was laughing and grinning while you were out only a few hours before, he had left your poor soul with bite marks, handprints, and among other things.
Sleeping with your supposed ex is not how you want to start your Monday.
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Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
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What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.
“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.
“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.
He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.
This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.
Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head. 
Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.
“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused. 
It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam. 
“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking. 
Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain. 
“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”
Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you? 
“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it. 
They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of. 
“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for. 
Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you. 
Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you. 
“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”
He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.
You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much. 
He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary. 
“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words. 
You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.
“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”
He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad. 
“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”
The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.
You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away. 
You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started. 
So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.  
Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always  one of patience.
You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.
“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.
His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.
You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.
He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.
“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.
You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.
“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.
That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.
“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”
He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.
“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”
The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves. 
Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up. 
The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh. 
How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over. 
Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself. 
“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do. 
He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.
“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day. 
Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort. 
You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve. 
When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little. 
“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”
He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet. 
“Doyouhateme?”
The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.
“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”
You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him. 
“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”
That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence? 
Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face. 
You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did. 
The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm. 
If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped. 
Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged. 
He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to. 
“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.
Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence. 
“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer. 
“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.
He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.
“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.
He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.
“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”
You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.
“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”
“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”
The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted. 
The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out. 
And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.
“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.
He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.
“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”
You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.
“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.
“No.”
“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.
“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”
“You can’t b-“
Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.
Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.
You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.
You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.
The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow. 
No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.
“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.
“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn’t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.
“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”
“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not. 
“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”
He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?
“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”
He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good. 
“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.
Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.
“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”
“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”
“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”
“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”
“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”
The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.
The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.
“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”
Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.
“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”
If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear. 
You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?
Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.
You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?
His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.
His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread. 
He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.
The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself. 
They lied. 
They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust. 
You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you. 
“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you. 
They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.
“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”
Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out. 
You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again. 
He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.
“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you. 
When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.
It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.
Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.
He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.
He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.
What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?
Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.
The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.
He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.
“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.
It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.
“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.
Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.
“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly. 
“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth. 
“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.
“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”
“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.
“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.
The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says. 
“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…
“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.
“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”
Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched. 
“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”
“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks. 
“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there. 
The older four men look at eachother knowingly. 
“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously. 
“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”
As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.
Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.
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pennyellee · 1 month
Text
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 - 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐭
LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU
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pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au
summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.
Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.
chapter warnings:minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, religious references, mentiones of physical violence, loss of blood, incision wound, suicide attempt, strong language, consented sexual intercourse, oral sex, fingering, handjob, emotional distress, remorse, verbal confrontation, emotional manipulation, suicidal ideation, bargaining, ... (if i forgot smth, pls i'm so sorrryy)
beta read by @chaoticpuff17
word count: 11,6K
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.
author's note: is at the end of the chapter! 🫧🩵
m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER IX
lítost (n.) a state of agony and torment by a sudden sight of one’s misery
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She could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, the soft rustle of wind making her hair dance. The scent of fresh blooms filled the air. She buried her feet into the warm sand and smelled the summer heat mixed with the salty ocean. It was as if time stood still, frozen in a moment of perfect happiness.
She relished the sensation of sand between her toes, the soft grains shifting beneath her feet with each step she took. As she gazed out at the endless expanse of the ocean, the horizon stretched out before her like a canvas painted with shades of blue and gold. The waves lapped gently against the shore, a rhythmic lullaby that echoed the beating of her heart.
She slowly returned to the porch of a quaint cottage, the soft glow of sunset casting a warm embrace around her. Y/N could hear the front door to open when she carefully slumped down to one of the armchairs in the cosy living room.
“I’m home!”
His footsteps were steady and purposeful as he crossed the threshold, his presence filling the room with a sense of familiarity that tugged at the edges of Y/N’s consciousness.
“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted, his voice like a soft melody that danced through the air, sending shivers down her spine. He moved closer, his features slowly coming into focus as he stepped into the light.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. His eyes were dark and intense, but filled with a warmth that made her pulse quicken with anticipation.
“How was your day?” she asked standing up again to greet him, her voice barely above a whisper as she took in his rugged appearance, the faint stubble lining his jaw, the way his hair fell effortlessly across his forehead.
“Been better, -”
“-hurried home to you, love,” he replied, his voice low and husky as he reached out to take her hand in his. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her veins, igniting a fire deep within her soul. She feels such a strong connection to him, not stopping to think why.
Y/N’s eyes wandered around the room, overlooking the family portraits on a wall full of memories. Her fingers enveloped his dark soft hair, playing with them. As she caressed his hair, a sense of comfort washed over her, as if she had done this a thousand times before. The warmth of his hand in hers felt familiar, like coming home after a long journey.
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “And how is my sunshine?”
Y/N’s heart fluttered at the endearment, a warmth spreading through her chest at his words. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze, her eyes soft with affection as she smiled up at him.
“Missed you,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. His lips curved into a tender smile, his eyes glowing with adoration as he leaned in to press another kiss to her forehead.
“Did you?” he teased her.
Y/N felt her cheeks flush at his teasing tone, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she nodded in response.
“Of course, -” she replied, her voice filled with genuine affection. “You know I always miss you when you’re not home.”
He grinned at her words, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Well, we better fix that, love,” he said, his voice laced with warmth as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to her lips. Y/N melted into his embrace, her heart fluttering with joy as she wrapped her arms around him, savouring the feeling of his lips against hers.
“Good enough?” He asked, his tone playful.
“Maybe a tiny bit more,” she murmured, her voice filled with love. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Is that so?” he teased again, his voice husky with desire. Without waiting for her response, he captured her lips in another searing kiss, his hands trailing down her sides, igniting a fire deep within her.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she melted into his embrace, her fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss, losing herself in the intensity of their passion. In that moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of them, their bodies pressed together in a perfect symphony of desire and longing.
“Seems like I can’t get enough of you, love,” he moaned to the kiss, his hand already travelling past her underwear to coat his fingers with her juices. The nearest wall served as a support column for her once she wrapped one of her legs around his waist, working on his suit pants.
With each touch, each caress, she felt herself slipping deeper into the abyss of desire, her body humming with pleasure as his fingers expertly explored her most intimate places. She gasped as he skilfully teased her, sending shivers of ecstasy coursing through her veins.
Hiking the hem of her dress up, the nearest table collided with her upper body, her hand spread over the width of the wood, gripping the edge forcefully. Within her, a fire burned bright, consuming her with a fervour she had never known before, as she surrendered herself completely.
“Such a pretty ass, -” slapping the soft skin with his palm he lowered to taste the juices she produced. Y/N’s free hand reached to press his head to her heat, moving her hips slightly to the rhythm of his tongue.
The feeling of his warm breath against her skin, the flick of his tongue, sent her spiralling into ecstasy. Her hand gripped the edge of the table tighter, her knuckles turning white as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure. She arched her back, pushing herself closer to him, craving more of his touch, more of his intoxicating taste.
With each flick of his tongue, she felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge, the fire within her burning brighter with each passing moment. Before she could release with a loud moan he slapped the other cheek, turning her over while he straightened himself behind her, chuckling at her frustration once he did so. With a hunger that bordered on desperation, he positioned himself, his hands roaming over her curves as he leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear.
“Is my baby needy?” a soft whimper came out of her, she nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she craved more of his touch, more of his intoxicating presence.
“Yes, -” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she pressed her hips back against him, desperate for the connection she knew only he could provide.
With a swift movement, he entered her from behind, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her lips. The sensation of him filling her, stretching her in all the right ways, sent waves of addiction coursing through her body. His movements slow and deliberate as he fills her completely. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she felt him moving inside her, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing over her.
“Fuck!” She had to curse out loud, biting her lip. The room was filled with loud moans and groans, the audible skin to skin contact as he raised the tempo, his hand pressing her head to the table.
As he moved in perfect harmony, Y/N felt a sense of bliss wash over her, her body trembling with pleasure as she surrendered herself completely to the moment. With each thrust, she felt herself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, her senses heightened by the raw intensity of their desire.
“You’re such a good girl, -”
She tightened around him, her nails digging into the wooden surface of the table. His groans became louder with each snap of his hips to her welcoming heat and Y/N could not help but bite down her lip, painful yelp filled with the backdrop of pleasure leaving her mouth as he continued to hit all the right places.
A primal growl resonated as he buried himself deeper inside her, feeling her walls clenching around him, urging him closer to the brink.
With one final thrust, they both reached the pinnacle of their desire, their bodies exploding in a symphony of ecstasy. Y/N’s back arched, a guttural cry escaping her lips as waves of orgasm washed over her, engulfing her in a whirlwind of bliss.
He groaned loudly, his release echoing hers as he emptied himself inside of her, their connection deepening with each pulsating wave of pleasure.
As they slowly came down from their euphoric high, Y/N’s breaths came in ragged gasps, her body still trembling with aftershocks. She turned to him, her eyes glazed with satisfaction, a lazy smile playing on her lips.
“A bath, shall we?” Y/N’s head twitched to the side, thinking why this trivial sentence sounds way too familiar. Shaking it off she pressed her damaged lips to his with a pleased hum as agreement.
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Time seemed to slow as Yoongi lunged forward, reaching out to stop her, but it was too late. The blade sliced through her skin, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as pain seared through her, her vision swimming with darkness. She felt Yoongi’s hands on her throat, his panicked voice calling out, but it was too distant, as if coming from a faraway place.
“Seokjin?!!” he shouted; his voice raw with desperation.
He cradled her in his arms, his hands trembling as he pressed against the wound, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood.
The sound of loud footsteps echoed in the corridor as others rushed forward to reach the doctor, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief. But amidst the chaos, Y/N’s empty gaze remained fixed on Yoongi, her eyes still burning with flames.
“Stay with me, baby. Don’t leave me please.” Yoongi whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. He pressed his lips to her forehead, willing her to hold on, to fight for her life.
But as he looked down at her pale, lifeless face, he knew that the road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges. For now, all he could do was pray that she would survive, that she would find the strength to forgive him, and that they would someday find their way back to each other.
“Please don’t take her away from me, my Lord.”
Yoongi prayed that it was not too late to save her from the darkness that threatened to consume them both.
One thing remained clear in Yoongi’s mind: he would do whatever it took to save her, to make amends for the pain he had caused, and to prove to her that his love was worth fighting for.
Yoongi’s voice cut through the turmoil, his words a desperate plea for forgiveness. He begged for her to forgive him, to give him another chance to make things right. No more secrets, no more lies. No more pain. He was willing to rebuild their relationship from the ground up, on a foundation of honesty and trust.
The metallic scent of blood mingled with the tang of fear, thickening the air with a palpable sense of impending doom. He ripped one of his sleeves a while ago, pressing the roughly crumpled fabric to the wound, praying that Seokjin is near, or that anyone heard him scream frantically enough to relay the message.
“You can’t leave me, baby, please. I promise we’ll work everything through.”
He kissed and caressed her hair with his free hand that was covered with her blood. Tears blurred his vision as his hand trembled at the sight. A blood he never wished to shed.
“Please, Y/N, you have to forgive me.” The weight of his actions pressed down on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with the weight of his mistakes.
“Fucking goddammit, Yoongi!”
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Y/N set the plates on the table, pouring the hot water into a kettle of green tea as he joined her at the table. They exchanged smiles, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the kitchen and the windows providing a magnificent view of the sea.
“I’ve been thinking, -” she said with a smile on her face while she set the seaweed salad down in front of him. He hummed in response, reading today’s paper.
“About opening my own practice.” He nodded, sipping his tea thoughtfully.
“Thought you wanted to wait until the babe arrives?”
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at his words, her mind spinning with confusion. A baby? What baby was he talking about? Her mouth seemed to work without the help of her mind. As if she was a mere observer, not the main character.
“I know. I know. But I can’t shake the feeling that now is the right time. I want to create something for myself too. Daddy's successful, why shouldn’t Mommy be successful too?”
Lifting his eyes from the paper, he reached across the table, his touch gentle as he took her hand.
“Opening a practice is a big step, especially with a baby on the way.”
She knew this was going to be hard, but she was determined to build herself a name too. And help those who can’t help themselves.
But as she looked into his eyes, she noticed a subtle yet unmistakable change. A faint scar marred his eye, tracing from above his eyebrow to his cheekbone. Y/N was certain it wasn’t there before.
“How are you feeling? Can you feel the babe moving?” he asked, his eyes softening with concern as he gently brushed his hand against her stomach. Y/N gulped down, trying to shush all the thoughts that echoed in her mind.
“He’s been active today,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly as she placed her hand on her growing stomach, feeling the gentle flutter of movement beneath her palm. “I think he’s just as eager to be with his Daddy as I am.”
The man’s eyes widened with surprise at her words, his expression softening with emotion as he took in the sight of her. And in that moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the room with hues of pink and gold, Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over her.
She cradled her swollen belly with tenderness, feeling the gentle flutter of life within. The promise of new beginnings and the joy of impending motherhood enveloped her in a cocoon of love and warmth.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. Something doesn’t feel right, and she can’t help but wonder what he’s hiding.
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The door slammed wide open, Seokjin’s voice was soar, his breathing frantic from running. His expression grave as he took in the scene before him.
Seokjin wasted no time, his training kicking in as he rushed to Y/N’s side, his hands moving with practised efficiency as he assessed her injuries. Yoongi watched in silent desperation, his heart pounding in his chest as he prayed for Seokjin to work his magic and save the woman he loved.
“You have to save her, Seokjin-hyung,-” Seokjin never saw Yoongi in a condition like this since his parents died and never thought he would ever again.
“She would lose too much blood if we attempted to transport her now, but I need my shit, Yoongi,” his tone was urgent and commanding as he took charge of the situation. “Get me my briefcase, hot water and towels, -”
As Seokjin worked to staunch the flow of blood, Yoongi hovered nearby, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s face as he whispered words of encouragement and prayer. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, of facing a future without her by his side.
“Yoongi, snap out of it and get it! I left it in the sunroom,” Seokjin left in hurry once a distant cry of his leader echoed at the first floor. He was sure that everyone outside of the celebrating banquet room heard it.
Yoongi nodded in a mixture of desperation and determination, scrambling to his feet as he absorbed Seokjin’s instructions. His mind raced as he mentally registered each item Seokjin urgently needed. In the tumultuous atmosphere, Yoongi rushed out of the room, his steps echoing in the corridor as he desperately sought the necessary supplies.
“What happened Yoongi?” Hoseok rose from his seat in the sunroom walking towards the dishevelled state of his friend. Yoongi did not even register him as he frantically searched for Seokjin’s briefcase. Reaching out to get it with his bloodied hands his ears miffily caught the younger Miss Wang’s anxious voice.
“Whose blood it is, Kkangpae Min?”
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She couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that something was amiss. The scar on his eye screamed volumes to her, yet her mind could not put things together and decipher what it wanted to tell her and why she does not recall that her husband had a scar like that. Where would a businessman come to get hurt this way? She couldn’t shake the feeling that her husband’s explanation didn’t quite add up. She stared at the scar on his face, her thoughts swirling with confusion and doubt.
“What do you mean, baby? I’ve always had it.” Said he, setting down the hat from his head, running his finger through the dark locks, pushing them back from his face.
But try as she might, she couldn’t recall ever seeing that scar before. It wasn’t just a minor detail that had slipped her mind—it was as if her memory had been rewritten, leaving her with a sense of disorientation and unease.
“Always?” she echoed, her voice barely a whisper as she struggled to comprehend what he was saying. Following him to his office where he lifted the briefcase to put it on the table while she slumped down next to the unlit fireplace.
“I don’t understand,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on the scar as if searching for answers.
He reached out, gently taking her hand in his, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of her confusion, and she did not understand why the scar evokes so many feelings inside her, yet his touch calms her.
“You traced it with your fingers when we first made love, baby, I can assure it has been there for a very long time.” She tried to grasp onto the fragments of memory, to recall the moment he spoke of, but it eluded her like a fading dream.
“I want to remember,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the tumult of her thoughts, “it feels so... significant.”
“Memories can be elusive, maybe it’s because of the accident?” he murmured, his voice soothing.
“An accident?”
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“You are fucking lucky she did it with a stupid letter opener, it seems like it did not manage to do as big of a damage as a regular knife would.”
His brow furrowed with concentration, his hands moving with practised precision as he worked to staunch the flow of blood and assess the extent of her injuries.
“She scraped over her artery, not much but enough to slow the blood flow to her brain. I need to close the wound as soon as possible.”
Seokjin’s words hit Yoongi like a physical blow, sending a shiver of fear down his spine. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him as he realised the severity of Y/N’s injuries. The thought of her life hanging in the balance sent a wave of panic coursing through him, but he forced himself to focus, to push aside his fear and uncertainty.
“She did not reach her windpipe, nor did she cut herself deep enough, thank God for that Yoongi.”
He never fell out of God’s grace, and he hoped he wouldn't do so now. His hand intertwined with hers as he whispered words of love and hope into the stillness of the room. Minutes felt like hours as the doctor carefully disinfected the wound to reduce the risk of infection. The stitches are precise.
“Why is she not awake, Seokjin?” He asked carefully, awaiting the worst. Seokjin’s expression softened briefly as he glanced up from his work, meeting Yoongi’s anxious gaze with empathy in his eyes.
“She lost quite some blood, Yoongi.”
“I understand-,” Yoongi murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he squeezed Y/N’s hand tighter, as if to anchor her to this world. “But she’s strong, Seokjin-hyung. She’ll pull through this, right?” Seokjin offered a small nod of agreement, his eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and determination. If only he had been more attentive, more willing to listen and understand, perhaps they wouldn’t be facing this crisis now.
“I should have done more,” Yoongi murmured, his voice heavy with remorse.
“You know, this would probably never happen if you would let me ease her mind in the beginning.”
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The warm water cascaded over their bodies. He was holding her and her naked body in a tight embrace. The flickering candlelight casting a soft glow upon their entwined forms.
His hands roamed over Y/N’s skin, she arched her back in response, a soft moan escaping her lips as he trailed kisses along her neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His touch sends shivers of pleasure coursing through her veins.
She moaned softly against his lips as he teased her, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her whole body. Y/N reached between them, her hand finding his manhood, firm and ready for her touch. She grasped him firmly, feeling his arousal pulse beneath her fingertips.
“Fuck, love, —” he moaned loudly, a raw expression of his pleasure and desire as she brought him closer to the edge. She followed the rhythm he settled for, stroking his manhood.
Y/N first felt the warm stream of his ejaculation before she heard his throaty moan of her name and then she could feel his fingers deeper in her than before, moving faster until she saw the stars too.
So, is this how love feels?
Her fingers slowly traced the faded scar from a wound on her neck she couldn’t quite remember when it appeared on her body nor how it came to that. Closing her eyes, trying to recall and dig up any memory that would help her and ease her confusion turned out unfruitful.
“Good night, Dove-” Her eyes snapped open hearing his voice. She felt his lips press into her cheek, one hand caressing her belly. Y/N’s lenses took in the change of surroundings. She’s in bed that feels like home as if she was sleeping in it for years. Clutching the silk duvet she looked at him. The scar is still present on his face, calling to her. He looked so calm, at peace, falling asleep with a smile on his face.
Dove. The word echoed in her mind, stirring up fragmented memories that danced just beyond her reach. It was a name she couldn’t recall ever being called before, yet it felt right, as if it belonged to her in ways she couldn’t comprehend.
Everything around her felt right yet so wrong at the same time. The soft crackling of fire, soft wind blowing outside and the symphony the crickets created. It was nighttime. A day went by, and she could not remember what she was doing for all the hours after breakfast.
Her hands slipped down to caress her belly with a stranger inside. Her hand slowly moved to cover his. Holding it felt somehow right, even though her mind was saying otherwise. The only thing that was wrong yet felt right was her helplessness, her indecisiveness, her unawareness. She was a prisoner of her mind and her body. This life felt surreal, sweet, and endearing, musing to her to live it without doubt. But doubts she had. Is this what her mind thought life would be? The more she thought about it, the more she felt like this projection is what her sound heart and mind longed for. This is what she wanted.
Love, happiness, and-
“Why do you call me that?” She asked suddenly, leaving her mind to speak to him. His eyes fluttered open to lovingly gaze at her. He pulled his hand from under hers, gently took it to intertwine their fingers together.
“What do you mean?” with a gentle smile playing on his lips, he whispered. The flickering firelight danced across their intertwined hands, casting shadows that seemed to whisper untold stories and shared moments.
“Why do you call me Dove?” She searched his eyes for answers.
“Because you brought peace to my heart, -”
“-and my world.”
His gaze held hers, a depth of emotion swirling within those familiar eyes that she couldn’t quite place. The doubts and uncertainties that had clouded her mind seemed to fade away, replaced by a deep sense of trust and acceptance. At least, for now.
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“Are you satisfied now? Hm?” The widow’s steps and words were aimed at the man she loathes. Her brother is laying at the sanitorium’s metal beds, a fractured skull and internal bleeding to be treated. They fear he might have been admitted far too late as Doctor Kim’s priority was the lady of the house.
They are to relieve pressure on the brain caused by the fractured skull and to stop the internal bleeding. They did not tell his older sister anything else. It was a horrific picture of her brother’s head being immobilised to prevent further injury, a trepanation has been done to prevent severe head trauma, his face swollen from all the hits he took from his leader. All for the Kkangpae’s selfish act of desire for his loved one to obey.
She stopped in front of the man whose face was puffy and eyes bright red from all the tears he shredded for his loved one. Now he cries. Daiyu’s mind could not understand the notorious man Min Yoongi is. Nor any of the men of Min Clan. Their women are weeping, yet the reason is not what they assume it is. They weep because of them. Because of the pain they brought upon them. The pain they’ll never admit that ever was there.
“You ruined us all, Yoongi.” No honorific for a man that has done so much damage to her family. He stood there without looking her in the eye and quietly apologising for his doings.
“Missus Park,-” he attempted to raise his voice above the line so she could hear him.
“My mother gave me up to your clan during the first war and after years I made my peace with that, -” he listened to her, standing there like he was the victim.
“Yet you were cocky enough to ask for more?” Her words are laced with bitterness and anger, fuelled by the injustice she feels at the hands of the Min Clan. She vows to never forgive him for the harm he has wrought.
“And yet again my mother gave up Y/N too. But that’s not quite right, hm?” The widow’s heart remains hardened, her anger burning bright as she refuses to grant him absolution for his sins.
“You think you and the rest of your hooligans are clever? Abducting women and forcing them to elope.” A heavy silence descends upon the room, broken only by the muffled sounds of distant footsteps echoing through the hotel corridor. Yoongi is letting her relieve her anger on him. He deserves it.
“Missus Park, I think you’d rather be at your brother’s side, don’t you think?” A smooth low voice echoes right beside her. She turned slowly to face the source, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. Standing there, with an air of quiet confidence, was a man she recognized all too well – Kim Taehyung, a trusted associate of the Min Clan.
“You.” She said with venom in her voice. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she regarded him, his presence only adding to the tension in the room. She knew all too well the power and influence he wielded, and she braced herself for whatever he had to say.
“Hyung, go inside, she might wake up any moment now. She’s been through a lot; you should make sure she’s taken care of-”
“How dare you say that!” Daiyu’s voice got an octave higher when she accused the consigliere.
“This is not the time or place for your interference, Missus Park.” Taehyung said, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of warning.
“We all have been through a lot because of you!”
“What on earth you did to make Xiaoli love you so blindly, -” Taehyung’s lips curved into a faint smirk, but there was a hardness in his eyes that belied his demeanour. He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. But she refused to be intimidated. She knew that Taehyung’s influence over Xiaoli was a dangerous one and her mind was bothered numerous times.
“Your mother was not as smart as the clans perceived her after all.” The widow’s jaw clenched with anger as Kim Taehyung’s words cut through the air.
“You dare speak of my mother?” she spat, her voice trembling with fury. “You and your ilk have no right to claim any semblance of intelligence. You prey on the vulnerable and the innocent, twisting their minds and hearts to serve your own selfish desires-”
“The nature of our private affairs are not something you have the right to be noisy about, Missus Park.” His tone dripped with disdain as he stared at the widow with cold indifference. Daiyu’s fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to contain her anger.
“You and your clan have caused nothing but pain and suffering, and yet you have the audacity to stand here and lecture me about privacy?”
Taehyung’s smirk widened; his eyes gleaming with amusement at her outburst. He took another step closer, invading her personal space with an air of arrogance that made her skin crawl.
“We operate by our own rules, Missus Park,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And if you value your brother’s life, you will do well to remember that.”
“This is far from being over. Once my brother recovers, I’m taking them both and Xiaoli to America.”
“Is that so?” he replied, his tone laced with scepticism. Taehyung’s expression darkened at her words, his jaw tightening with barely concealed rage. For a moment, it seemed as though he might lash out in anger, but then he seemed to regain control of himself, his features smoothing into a mask of icy calm.
“You’re welcome to take your brother and go to the far far land but my fiancé and Buin will stay put, end of the discussion, Missus Park. Or do I need to take any precautions — how’s your son?”
She knew all too well the lengths to which the Min Clan would go to protect their interests, and the thought of her son being caught in the crossfire filled her with a sense of dread.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she spat, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. “You wouldn’t lay a hand on my son.”
“Oh, of course not, we’re not child-killers, Missus Park. But you wouldn’t want me to make sure they take him away as you’re clearly unstable to raise a child.” Taehyung’s smirk returned, his eyes glinting with malice as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear.
“You all are fucking monsters.” She spit his way and with a flick of fear in her eyes she turns away to storm down the hallways back to the waiting car that will take her to the sanitorium.
The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, lending an eerie atmosphere to the hushed conversation that unfolded.
Yoongi’s brow furrowed with concern as he glanced at Y/N, her delicate features softened in sleep. He was holding her small hand in his large one, refusing to leave her side.
“Hyung, do you think she could be pregnant?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, mindful of the gravity of their discussion. Seokjin and Namjoon exchanged a solemn glance, their expressions reflecting the weight of Yoongi’s question.
The older man did not want his brother to be in more pain than he already is.
“It’s certainly possible, —” Seokjin replied softly, his gaze shifting to Y/N’s still form.
“—yet, it’s way too soon to tell.” Namjoon nodded in agreement, his eyes lingering on Y/N with a mixture of concern and hope.
“Her health and recovery must remain our primary focus.”
A sense of apprehension settled over Yoongi as the reality of their situation sank in. The prospect of impending fatherhood filled him with both excitement and trepidation. His hand possessively slipped under the duvet, caressing her belly with a tender touch. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand, a silent vow of love and protection that lingered in the quiet of the room.
He was determined to never fail her again.
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Y/N found herself drifting into a state of peaceful slumber, the gentle rhythm of his breathing lulling her into a sense of security she hadn’t known before. A feeling that was for a long time foreign.
Yet, even as sleep beckoned her towards its welcoming arms, a nagging sense of unease lingered at the edge of her consciousness. It was as though a faint whisper echoed through the chambers of her mind.
Images flickered in the darkness, fleeting glimpses of faces and places she couldn’t quite place. It was like trying to catch hold of smoke, the harder she tried to grasp onto them, the more they slipped through her fingers.
And then, amidst the chaos of her mind, a single image emerged from the depths of her subconscious—a flash of silver amidst the darkness, a glimmer of recognition that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins.
As Y/N’s dreams began to swirl with fragments of memories she herself did not recognise, she found herself waking with a start, the remnants of a haunting nightmare still lingering in her mind. The boundaries between reality and illusion blurring in the hazy mist of slumber. Beside her, the man stirred, his gaze filled with concern as he noticed the tension in her features.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice soft yet filled with a quiet intensity that spoke volumes.
“It was just a bad dream-” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, his expression understanding as he reached out to gently brush away the stray strands of hair that clung to her face. “Nightmares are just the mind’s way of processing the chaos of the world,” he said, his words carrying a weight of wisdom born from years of introspection. “-the unwanted reality we dare not to accept,” he slowly caressed her cheek.
“Sometimes, facing our fears head-on is the only way to conquer them.”
“I know,” she replied, her voice steady despite the lingering unease that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness. “It feels like the nightmares are trying to tell me something, -”
“Perhaps they are,” he said, his tone tinged with a hint of curiosity.
“What do you mean?” She asked, shrinking her eyebrows.
“Wake up, little Dove.”
“I don’t want to wake up, Yoongi. I’m wide awake.” Her words proceeded her mind once she uttered them.
Yoongi. Only now she realised that she never uttered his name out loud this whole time. His name is Yoongi. She recognises him now, but this man is not the one she married.
This man is the one the other will never be.
“Are you?”
The warmth of the bed was replaced by the sterile chill of a sanitised room, the soft breathing beside her now replaced by the distant sound of metal clinking against itself.
Her eyes fluttered open to meet the gaze of Seokjin, the doctor who had been overseeing her treatment. There was a sombreness in his eyes, a depth of understanding that spoke of the gravity of the situation.
Her initial reaction wasn’t one of shock or panic but rather a stoic silence whilst she looked around the room. Just yet. That was giving the young doctor a hunch that her mind is stronger than anyone ever thought it is.
“Y/N,-” he began, his voice gentle yet firm. He carefully placed the file he was holding in his hand back to the nightstand next to the bed. Seokjin didn’t want to trigger her. He needed her to be as calm as possible.
“What did you do to me?” A hoarse broken voice laced with pain echoed in the room. It was barely heard and the immense pain on the side of her throat got her head spinning. The sight of Yoongi’s rage-filled eyes flooded back to her mind, the desperation of her attempt to protect Kai from his wrath. She instinctively reached up to touch the bandages that now adorned her neck, wincing.
“You mean, what did you do to yourself?” he replied softly, his words heavy with implication.
Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her as the reality of her actions sunk in. The realisation that she had tried to take her own life filled her with a sense of profound despair.
“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “There was no stopping him. He would have—” it was hard to swallow, it was harder to breathe, painful to speak and just like countless times before, it was harder to see through the tears.
“Is Kai alive?” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. Seokjin met her gaze with a solemn nod, Y/N felt a sliver of hope pierce through the darkness that had consumed her. Perhaps, amidst the chaos, there was still a chance for redemption, for healing.
“He’s going to make a full recovery in a few weeks,” he said softly, his words a balm to her wounded spirit.
“But you need to heal too—”
Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded in silent agreement, the weight of her own pain pressing down upon her like a burden too heavy to bear.
“Little birdie sang that you promised to make a snowman with a certain little man.” The little boy was a reminder of the love and happiness that still existed in her life despite the darkness that surrounded her.
“Can I sleep some more?”
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Before she managed to drift back to sleep, Seokjin quietly went about checking her vitals, his experienced hands moving with precision as he monitored her condition. With a deep sigh, he made a mental note to bring her iron pills to help replenish the blood she had lost. Looking at her bandaged neck, he couldn’t shake the feeling that her academic background would totally exclude the possibility that this petite woman wouldn’t know how to kill herself with that one swipe of a letter opener if she aimed correctly. And that made Seokjin suspicious of the young Buin’s intentions and endorsed him into believing that after all, the girl still has some fire to burn and will to live. She just needed good guidance, he thought.
“How is she?” The Kkangpae rushed to approach him once he closed the door to his office. It was very hard to convince him to leave her side. She was asleep for a while and Seokjin did not advise on waking her up anytime soon until she woke up herself. With conflicting emotions, he turned to face his dishevelled form.
“She wants to sleep some more, otherwise she’s stable, but—” Seokjin replied, his voice tinged with weariness.
“—she’s lost a significant amount of blood so I’m going to have her take iron pills—”
The Kkangpae’s brow furrowed in worry, his gaze flickering back to the closed door behind Seokjin.
“I want to see her,” he said, his voice tinged with desperation when he interrupted his Hyung.
Seokjin hesitated for a moment, weighing the risks of disturbing Y/N’s rest against the Kkangpae’s obvious concern. Ultimately, he decided to trust his instincts.
“We need to talk first, Yoongi.” Seokjin said firmly. The Kkangpae nodded reluctantly, his shoulders slumping with defeat. Not happy with Seokjin’s stalling. Nonetheless, Seokjin could sense the tension radiating off him, the weight of guilt and fear pressing down on his shoulders.
“You pushed her way too far, Yoongi—” the doctor begins, slumping down to the low cushion sofa looking at the faded yet evident scraped puddle of blood on the wooden floor.
“I want you to consider me helping her.”
Yoongi’s blood ran cold at the mention of such a drastic measure to be taken. He knew of the doctor practising such methods and he knew of them being successful once two living and walking examples were among them.
“We’ve talked about this Seokjin, and I declined your offer. She doesn’t need it.”
Seokjin’s gaze hardened, his eyes locking onto Yoongi's with unwavering intensity.
“Are you ever going to accept the truth Yoongi? She is suffering here!” Yoongi’s jaw tightened; his fists clenched at his sides as he fought to control the rising tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He knew that Seokjin was right. But he was also still the selfish man he was before.
“She’s my responsibility, Seokjin,” Yoongi said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll find another way to help her. I won’t let you do this to her unless it will be absolutely necessary.”
Seokjin’s expression softened, a flicker of empathy shining in his eyes as he reached out to place a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “I know you love her, Yoongi,” he said gently. “But sometimes, loving means making difficult decisions for the greater good.”
Yoongi couldn’t continue to bury his head in the sand, hoping that Y/N’s pain and suffering would simply disappear on its own and perhaps the moment she heals she’ll be capable of falling in love with him just like he did.
“Just how long can you go without your love being reciprocated?”
Seokjin’s question echoed in Yoongi’s mind, a painful reminder of the unrequited love that had tormented him for so long.
He couldn’t bear the thought of robbing her of her identity, of erasing the very essence of who she was. The essence he loved her for. But now, faced with the prospect of losing her altogether, Yoongi couldn’t bear the thought of erasing the very qualities that had drawn him to her in the first place. He loved her for her fire, for the strength and passion that burned within her.
He wanted to keep her flame alive.
How ironic, isn’t it?
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Waking up again felt even worse than the first time. The dizziness remained and a strong feeling of fatigue only reminded her of what she had called upon herself. The bed seemed to mock her with its warmth, the pillow unyielding beneath her. It was a bit firmer for some reason and a heartbeat echoed in her ears.
Her hand went up the sheets until another hand fell upon hers. The bed was not warmer, the pillow was not firmer and the heartbeat she hears isn’t hers. The fingers, adorned with cold metal rings that now laid on top of her smaller hand squeezed hers in firmer grip. What was supposed to be a comforting touch seemed like shackles to Y/N.
Y/N gulped down, trying to not slap his hand right away just like she wanted to. The pit in her stomach was larger and larger. She did not know what to expect from him. Is he going to punish her? Is he mad? Does he have the right to be mad? Of course not. But for what is to come, Y/N would rather him mad and angry.
“I am so sorry, little Dove.”
His voice shattered her thoughts and Y/N’s eyes stayed wide open, just staring up front. He was holding her laying form on his chest and she could feel his other hand caressing her back. He held her way too close, as if trying to mend what he had broken with his other hand.
“I thought I was going lose you,” he choked out, confessing, his grip tightening. She pulled away with swift movement, sitting up to confront him and look down on his half laying form.
“You’ve almost killed him, and the only remorse you feel is for me?!”
Her weak voice trembled with a mixture of anger and disbelief, her eyes flashing with hurt as she confronted him. Her vocal cords were not as damaged, yet her throat was too sore for her voice to be heard fully. The weight of his actions hung heavy in the air, suffocating the space between them. Guilt etching lines on his face as he met her accusing gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.
“The words you said before, back home, got to me, and I lost control. I did not mean for any of this, Dove. I am genuinely sorry,” he finally managed to utter, his voice thick with regret. His eyes pleaded for her understanding, begging for forgiveness in the face of his unforgivable mistake.
Despite the hurt and betrayal, she felt a small part of her longed to believe him, to believe that he was capable of change. But she knew very well that the Yoongi starring in her dreams is a completely different man. The scars of his actions ran deep, leaving behind wounds that could not be easily healed.
“You crushed his skull, Yoongi,” she said with a stone-cold anger, her voice laced with an icy fury that sent shivers down his spine. He messed up.
“And I shall do everything to redeem myself. I love you, baby-” He knew he had to make things right, to earn back her trust and repair the damage he had done. How could he earn something back if it was never there?
“You don’t love me, Yoongi. You love the idea of having me under your control!” Each syllable drips with bitterness and resentment. He lifted himself on his elbows to look closer to her teary eyes. They reflected so much pain and sorrow.
“You know that’s not true. I’ll do anything for you.” He insisted, his voice trembling with sincerity as he reached out to gently wipe away her tears whence she slapped his hand off.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she spat, her voice sharp with venom. She stood up, putting distance between them, but he refused to let her go. The weight of his actions had left her wounded, her trust shattered beyond repair. She could no longer bear the false promises and empty gestures that had become their relationship.
“Did I have to reach the edge of despair for you to wake up?” Her words cut through the silence, echoing with the pain of her betrayal.
“I was scared of losing you,” His voice trailed off, the weight of her accusation hitting him like a ton of bricks. He struggled to find the right words to express the depth of his fear and regret, knowing that no apology could ever fully erase the pain he had caused.
“You never had me to begin with.” She said, her voice filled with finality. But he wouldn’t accept it. The ancient melody, the notes that echoed in the silence, screamed, full of wounds that will never heal.
“Promise me you’ll never do that again, love. Hurt me, not yourself.” He pleaded again trying to reach her, his voice breaking with emotion as he reached out to grasp her trembling hands, hoping against hope that she would find it in her heart to forgive him, to give their love another chance. He cannot let her words get to him again.
“Again?!-” she retorted, her voice laced with disbelief and incredulity. She wondered if he’s even worthy of her pretending. Her hands went to hit his chest, pushing him away from her.
“-You think there’s going to be fucking again, Yoongi?!” Her words were sharp, cutting through the air with the finality of a verdict. A flying cup shattered right next to his head. He did not even register when she took it into her hands and threw it at him, missing him just by a few inches.
“I’ll do anything to have you by my side. Dove, I beg you.” Min Yoongi pleaded, his voice breaking again. On his knees, Min Yoongi bowed his head in remorse.
“You’ll never change, Yoongi.” The weight of disappointment was evident in her words as she turned away, unable to bear the sight of him at that moment. But the selfish side of Min Yoongi wouldn’t let her do that.
He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her close, not leaving an inch between them.
“I can’t fucking live without you-” his voice cracked, raw with desperation and longing, tears welled up in his eyes, begging for her to understand the depth of his love.
“-without those arms,” he continued, his voice softening with the memories of their intimacy.
“-full cheeks-”
“-lips,” he whispered, each word a plea for her to see the love and longing in his eyes.
“Yoongi, I cannot do this anymore.”
Yoongi felt his heart drop like a heavy weight in his chest. He collapsed onto his knees before her, his arms wrapping desperately around her delicate frame.
“I’m so tired of the pain in my chest,” she admitted, her voice trembling with vulnerability.
He had pushed her too far, hurt her too deeply, and now he stood on the precipice of losing her forever.
“I was ready to die—”
“I’m so fucking sorry, Dove” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the tumult of emotions raging inside him. Y/N glanced at his trembling hands and thought about his words for a second. Contemplating his sincerity.
It was his eyes this time that cried. The endearment sounds different coming from this version of Yoongi. It felt so distant from the Yoongi she had once met in her dreams. The man he’ll never be.
“I can make it better. Just let me in and I’ll show you how happy we can be.” Min Yoongi promised, his eyes filled with sincerity. He’s haunted by the knowledge that he just might have let the love of his life slip through his fingers.
“You’re really that delusional, aren’t you?” Y/N questioned; her voice laced with disbelief.
“Aren’t we all? -” Min Yoongi replied, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. Please, give me another chance.”
Y/N remained silent; her expression guarded as she wrestled with her own emotions. Her mind swirled with thoughts and even when she tried to say something, an inaudible cry of frustration, sadness and anger was heard.
Min Yoongi slumped down to his knees, holding her small hands in his. Looking at her with hope in his eyes.
“I beg you.” He pleaded once more for her forgiveness. His eyes searched hers, hoping to find even the smallest glimmer of something that would tell him that he’ll manage to woo her right this time.
If she could walk away, she would do it right now. But this isn’t her que to leave the scene. Just not yet. Be patient.
“Your beloved God shall decide upon your fate, Yoongi-”
“Upon the fate of us,” she continued to preach.
“What do you—”
“Should God spare his life, I’ll consider forgiving you,” she interrupted, her voice firm.
“Then let it be so,” he said, his voice filled with determination and hope.
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Y/N was clutching the delicate cup of tea in her hands whilst her eyes remained fixed on the outside surroundings of the hotel. Riling herself up was something she was told to seize. Yet, there she stands, ready to run outside any minute.
“He’s trying, you know,” Xiaoli said softly, following Y/N’s gaze. “In his own way, he’s trying to make things right.”
The sight was both heart-warming and heartbreaking, a glimpse of the man he used to be and the man he could still be.
“Well, he certainly knows how to evoke emotional damage.” Y/N sighed, her eyes lingering on Yoongi’s figure adorned in a warm coat. His hands were covered with leather gloves that protected him from the frostbiting cold snow.
“People can heal.”
“Some wounds run too deep to heal completely,” Y/N glanced at Xiaoli, her eyes searching for understanding that she will most likely never find.
“Love has a way of healing even the deepest wounds-” Xiaoli reached out, placing a comforting hand on Y/N’s arm. Y/N scoffed, her eyes never leaving the Kkangpae and her little brother Bo Cheng. Building a snowman. It was a picture of normalcy; his current actions were mocking the magnitude of his power and acts he performed to obtain it.
Min Yoongi was on top of the world. One day, the prime minister of Japan expresses his gratitude for clearing the Yakuza clan and unburdening the country, the other, he’s powerless when the woman he chose to be his companion throughout life, and what’s after, paints the floor red with her own blood.
“Relax, Y/N Buin.” The other voice echoed from the other side of the room. She was clutching the cup way too tightly, making her knuckles go white. She hated when people called her Buin. It did not evoke power in Y/N, rather the opposite. It was a reminder that she is the lady of this clan because Yoongi forced her into this position.
The room felt heavy with tension, each word from Xiaoli pulling at the raw edges of her emotions. The far away sound of Bo Cheng’s laughter when he threw a large snowball Yoongi’s way.
“You did not see him that day,” Y/N finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with pain and regret.
“The darkness in him consumed him.”
“I saw him after that—”
“-He’s trying to make amends now,” Xiaoli said gently, her hand tightening around Y/N’s.
“I wish I could believe that he’s capable of change, Xiaoli.” The rustle of newspaper reminded her of the other presence in the room. The consigliere silently worked at the table, overviewing contracts Y/N daren’t deem anything but legal. The other man present in the room was now folding the said newspapers, standing up and walking in the direction where Xiaoli and Y/N stood by the large window.
“Never in my entire fucking life I have thought that I will see Min fucking Yoongi build a snowman-” Hoseok spat out jokingly, his disbelief evident. There was even a hint of amusement in his eyes.
Y/N’s grip on the teacup relaxed slightly, but her gaze remained fixed on the scene outside the whole time.
“He just might be able to change, we all do-” he began, leaning down to her height level, admiring the velvet rose pins holding her hair in an updo.
“for lov—”
“Jiě jie! Have you seen the snowman we built?!” Y/N’s eyes brightened at the sound of Bo Cheng’s voice. The change in her expression was immediate.
Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, “Yes, dear. It’s marvellous.”
Bo Cheng’s delighted laughter echoed across the snowy expanse as he ran back outside to Yoongi, pulling him towards their creation.
Hoseok, witnessing Y/N’s transformation, teased, “See? He’s not all bad. Look at how happy he makes your brother.”
“One snowman doesn’t erase the past, Hoseok.”
Hoseok laughed, conceding with a nod, “Fair enough, Y/N. Fair enough.”
“What about two?” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. But the daunting feeling never left her as she watched him and her little brother.
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“Is he asleep?” She asked quietly, trying to restrain her voice as much as possible. The best was not to overload the muscles of her throat at all. She talks very little but thinks a lot. That certainly is not the best situation for someone like Y/N.
Her mind takes her to places. To those she visited and those she is yet to see. The “Yoongi” comes back to her in dreams from time to time, and Y/N’s mind cannot grapple with why it is happening so. What is the cosmos trying to show her?
“He is usually stubborn to go to sleep if it’s not for Ma reading him a story-” The younger sister began to rely upon her never-ending gratitude to her beloved leader. Safe to say, she shifted her loyalty without having to pledge it first.
“-thank you, Kkangpae Min, you’re marvellous with children.” Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Xiaoli. Not like she was cautious to not get caught doing so, Xiaoli did see her doing so, poking her elbow to express her gratitude to Yoongi too.
“What?” Y/N asked her. Xiaoli was easier to manipulate, easier to forget, and easier to forgive. Y/N wasn’t, she would let him feel the chasm in between them before she made her move to wrap him around her finger.
“Aren’t you grateful for such a caring husband?”
The loud silence echoed in the room, making everyone uncomfortable. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed very loudly. Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Xiaoli-” Y/N has begun only for Xiaoli to not let her speak.
“No, Y/N, he’s at least trying. You never did-” her younger sister interrupted her instantly. Y/N looked into Yoongi’s eyes, for the first time since he crossed the door threshold after he put Bo Cheng to bed. She did not know what she was looking for, yet she expected him to speak up.
“Xiaoli-” she attempted again but this time it was Yoongi who interrupted her.
“Mrs. Wang, I appreciate your concern, but me and Y/N shall resolve our marital issues without your guidance.”
Yoongi’s voice was calm, but there was a firmness to it that made the room go still. Xiaoli’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by his assertiveness. Y/N’s gaze locked onto his again, searching for a hint of what he was thinking. She raised her brows at his diplomatic words to her sister.
Not wanting to admit it, Y/N enjoyed the guilt in Xiaoli’s eyes. Yet it was Yoongi she apologised to and not her.
“Well, I would say that is our cue to leave those two alone, love,” Taehyung murmured all the way from across the office where he was still seated. The room was quiet enough that everyone heard him.
“I meant well.” Was the last thing Y/N heard before Xiaoli and Taehyung got too far away for them to hear anything.
Yoongi took a deep breath, breaking the silence.
“She can be a lot, the sister of yours.”
Y/N chuckled softly, wiping away a stray tear. They sat down by the fireplace.
They always do. He reached out, taking her hand.
“How was your day?” He said gently. For the past week, she wasn’t avoiding him - she was avoiding the talks he wished to have with her to reconcile.
“Jimin told me you went to visit Kai today.”
Y/N’s eyes widened momentarily before she looked away, her grip tightening around the fabric of her dress. Yoongi’s thumb gently stroked the back of her hand, a gesture meant to be comforting, but it only intensified the whirlwind of emotions inside her.
“Seokjin says he is getting better slowly.” She hesitated to talk, biting her lip. Kai was a sore subject between them, yet Yoongi realised that’s where his only chance of a life with her lay. He agreed upon her terms of forgiving him, seizing any opportunity to keep her by his side.
“And so do you, but I would love to hear that from you, Dove.”
“It still pains me to talk, and I get dizzy if I stand for too long.” Yoongi’s heart ached as he heard her soft confession. He knew all too well what her condition was and that he was the sole reason for it.
There wasn’t a day, an hour where he did not think about what he could have done differently with her. Maybe if he told her the truth at the very beginning, she’d let him woo her. But he’ll never know that. The damage was done, and he’ll have to build their relationship from scratch.
Yoongi hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Y/N’s face for any sign of pain or discomfort.
“I’m sorry, Dove,” he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “I hate seeing you like this.”
Y/N gave him a weak smile. It wasn’t a warm smile, it was not genuine, and it certainly did not reflect the emotion Y/N was holding in.
“Then why lead me to this state?” Yoongi’s eyes filled with guilt, his grip on her hand tightening. For the first time, Yoongi rethought all the decisions he had made since he settled his eyes on her. There wasn’t a day he did not think about what would be different if he would’ve been honest with her. Would she fall in love with him?
“We don’t have time for that, Hyung.” The voice of his right-hand man echoed in his mind. He listened to him, and here they are. Broken.
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Dove—” Yoongi’s tears threatened to fall as he watched the woman he loved struggle with the pain he had caused.
“And that there is way too much damage done, but I burn for you, and I always will.” She only listened to him, there was no need to answer.
“I will wait for you until you are ready.”
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“We had a deal.” Her eyes slowly flattered open upon hearing his low baritone voice. She gulped down carefully, wincing at the still evident pain in her throat. She squinted her eyes at the change of lighting. She was wondering whether he would pay her visit. Several weeks passed and here he is. Kim Namjoon in his full glory, ready to get on her nerves.
“Where’s Yoongi?” Looking at the empty side of the bed she asked, not minding his words. He sneaked late in the night, thinking she was dead asleep and left her room too early in the morning. She has let him do that. It will only help her in the future.
“We had a deal,” Namjoon repeated, his voice firm and unwavering as he was seated in the armchair next to her bed, his gaze fixed on her with a mixture of concern and disappointment.
“And we still have a deal, don’t we?” She asked rather mockingly, her tone laced with sarcasm, pulling herself up to sit on the bed. Her eyes still not used to the lighting she blindly reached to a glass of water that was on the nightstand to ease her throat of the uncomfortable dryness burning inside.
“You attempted to kill yourself. I’d count that as violating our deal,” he stated bluntly. Y/N’s jaw clenched as she listened to Namjoon's accusation, a surge of defensiveness rising within her. The man and his tactics irked her.
She knew she had pushed the boundaries of their agreement, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Not to him at least.
“It was a moment of weakness, okay? I’ve had enough at that point.” Namjoon’s gaze remained steady, unmoved by her protestations. As if he saw right through her.
“Do you want us to throw you into a mental house? Is that what you’re trying to do?”
Y/N’s grip tightened around the glass of water as she fought to control the rising tide of anger within her.
“You all would have to throw yourself in first.”
She refused to back down, refused to let him belittle her struggles or dictate her fate. Y/N’s grip tightened around the glass of water, her knuckles turning white with tension as she fought to control the rising tide of anger within her. Namjoon’s words felt like a slap in the face, a harsh reminder of her own vulnerability and the consequences of her actions.
He chuckled at her response. The sound grating on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
“As I said, it was a moment of weakness, there was no different means to stop him—”
“Maybe if you didn’t provoke him before, he wouldn’t do it, Y/N.”
“I did not provoke him. I did not ask for any of this,” she spat, her voice trembling with fury. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she glared at Namjoon. She wanted to throw the glass at him so badly.
“Yet here we are.”
“Here we are indeed,” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And whose fault is that, Namjoon? Certainly not mine.”
Namjoon’s jaw tightened at her defiance, his gaze hardening as he met her eyes with unwavering intensity.
“You’re just like him, Y/N,” he muttered darkly. “Stubborn. Refusing to see reason. Refusing to accept help. We had a deal goddammit—”
“With all due respect, Namjoon. I do not trust you nor your intentions to actually send me over to America once the time is up.” He had expected her defiance, but her lack of trust cut deeper than he cared to admit. He did not know why in detail. But it was for the greater good that the Buin and Kkangpae will be a power role model couple for their clan.
“You don’t trust me?” he repeated, his voice low and tinged with disbelief. Ridiculous. 
“Trust is earned, Namjoon,” she retorted, her voice unwavering despite the tremor in her heart. “And you haven't exactly given me a reason to trust you.” His frustration was simmering beneath the surface.
“Aight.” He said after some time of thinking.
“What do you want?” He asked, intrigued about what would make her trust him. Y/N’s gaze narrowed; her expression guarded as she considered Namjoon’s question.
“Assurances.”
“Name it.”
“I want Xiaoli, Kai, Daiyu and her son out of here. Somewhere overseas. Unharmed and not to be bothered again.” His expression conflicted as he weighed the implications of her request. The smirk on his face was still present.
“Xiaoli is betrothed to Taehyung, and she is so of her own volition. You yourself gave them your blessing, Buin.” Y/N’s tongue clicked unsatisfied with his words.
“Give her the courtesy and at least give her the chance to decide, without your influence.” He knew she had a point, even if he was reluctant to admit it. The power dynamics within their world were complex, and he had grown accustomed to wielding his influence with impunity. The holy seven always did so.
“Fine,” he conceded, his tone grudging. “I’ll make sure Xiaoli has a chance to make her own decisions. But you’re pushing your luck, Yoongi may not—,”
“He will agree.” She stated resolutely. Namjoon’s eyebrows rose slightly at Y/N’s bold assertion, surprised by her unwavering confidence.
“Very well,” Namjoon replied, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’ll speak to Yoongi and I’ll arrange for them to sail away once Kai is well enough to travel, but only if you promise to uphold your end of the deal and it’s new conditions”
“What conditions?” She asked, utterly confused. This was about him earning her trust. But of course, Kim Namjoon would somehow manage to manipulate his way through.
“Forgive him, Y/N. That’s what I’m asking for. It’s been weeks since Kai can stand on his own feet. Talk, walk, eat, everything. Why’d you still not uphold your side of the deal?”
A weighty silence enveloping the room as Y/N processed his words. The idea of forgiving Yoongi felt like an impossible task, a betrayal of everything she had endured at his hands. She could not find a word that would describe what she feels now.
“Holding onto anger and bitterness will only continue to weigh you down. Death would be redemption, yet you are still here, living and breathing by God’s will and doing.”
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I N T E R L O G U E
“When is he planning to do it?” She spoke softly, her words laced with urgency and caution.
“I don’t know-” she murmured, swallowing the lump in her throat. “But I can’t bear the thought of Bo Cheng witnessing such a horror.”
Daiyu’s eyes darted around the dimly lit corridor, wary of lurking shadows and prying ears.
“We must leave this place, Y/N,” she urged, her voice a breathless whisper.
“I can’t-” Y/N’s voice caught in her throat, her gaze dropping to the floor as a wave of despair washed over her.
“—not yet, at least.” Daiyu placed a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder.
“But you will-” Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Daiyu’s gaze hardened.
“-And you’ll take Bo Cheng with you. Even Ma if we will be clever enough.”
“Xiaoli?” she inquired cautiously.
“Xiaoli doesn’t share our sentiments. Taking her against her will would make me no better than them.” Daiyu nodded, understanding the complexity of Y/N’s feelings towards Xiaoli.
“He won’t let us all go,” said Daiyu, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. In normal circumstances, he would never give a green pass to anyone from inside of their clan. Especially, to the closer circle. But the circumstances were not normal. And as he spoke himself numerous times at this point. He will do everything to keep her by his side.
“He will. If I promise to stay.”
“But that’s-”
“It’s not my time yet, Daiyu—” she interrupted her quickly.
“But it will come.”
.
.
.
.
.
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©pennyellee. please do not repost
author's note: this took me longer than I thought, mainly coz of life getting in my way, but nonetheless, chapter 8 is here. So far, this is the most I'm sceptical about chapter so yeah, nervous to put it out. Yoongi's got a taste of his own medicine to some degree and maybe finally he'll start to see things differently. Do you believe Yoongi can change for her? Hmm? We will see. Enjoy the chapter. Thank you for reading and continuing to read the story 𖦹 ☼ ⋆。˚⋆ฺ ♡
PS: I hope you don't hate Xiaoli entirely coz I have a filler one-shot mapped out in my head 𖦹 ☼ ⋆。˚⋆ฺ ♡
shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!
Love you all!! ♥
Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥
keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction. Nor in this case, I'm a medical professional.
let's be friends chummers 🫧♡ ︎
lots of love, p.
PPS: accounts highlighted cannot be tagged, so if you want to be in the tag list, please make sure you have it allowed in your settings. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆。˚⋆ฺ ♡
tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts - @seonghwaexile - @catlove83
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btsmosphere · 2 months
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Supercharged | JJK - Masterlist
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Updates every Sunday!!!
🗲summary:
It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens?
🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲genre: angst, action, slow burn, enemies to lovers, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, weapons, swearing, arguing, injury, past trauma, mentions of death
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Teaser
Character Moodboards/Bios: Jungkook | Yoongi | Hobi | V | Jimin | Jin | Namjoon | You
Supercharged Playlist
Chapter 1 - The Light Dies
Chapter 2 - Reign of Mercy
Chapter 3 - Figure it Out
Chapter 4 - We aren't Heroes, Honey
Chapter 5 - Scared of a Little Lightning
Chapter 6 - Burn Out
Chapter 7 - Spark to Life
Chapter 8 - On the Force
Chapter 9 - Thank me Later
Chapter 10 - Is This Not Control?
Chapter 11 - Right Beside You
Chapter 12 - Into the Depths
Chapter 13 - One of Us
Chapter 14 - Cover Me
Chapter 15 - Powerless
Epilogue - Sweet Taste
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Updates every Sunday! To be on the taglist, send me a message, ask or comment!💜
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agustdakasuga · 1 year
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The Way Of A Criminal (Series Masterlist) [PAUSED]
Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook
Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.
Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
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hobicakess · 1 year
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RED CHOPSTICK 2 - teaser
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SUMMARY: Suga is missing and his brother seeks you out and.. shit happens
RATING: 18+  (i am not a babysitter, you are in control of what you consume.)
PAIRING: Gangster!Yoongi x reader / Detective!August x reader
BOOK MENTIONS:  | Violence | Cursing | Gangster Yoongi | Detective August | Thick Reader | Afro-Asian Reader | Smut | Dead body & Blood Mention | Stalking Mention | Twin Rivalry | more tags will be added when the full fic is posted 
A/N: I just want fuck every version of Yoongi 
PART ONE
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Looking back up at the detective, your stomach was twisting into knots, knowing that every single move you made was being watched. The thought made you sick to your stomach.
“My brother keeps many women around”  he stated, leaning back into his chair, legs crossing. “But you? He's kept you around for the longest 7 months?” 
He whistled mockingly, “That's a world record, what makes you so special huh?” Pulling out another batch of pictures of 4 men whose faces you've seen before, all four of them have tried to make a pass at you, over the past couple months. The next picture he pulled was them lying in pools of their own blood
"Sloppy jobs by yours truly, all because of his infatuation with you.”
He leaned forward, face smug, expecting you to talk now, “Now that I jogged your memory, where is my brother?”
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frenchkisstheabyss · 3 days
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♡ Sympathy for the Devil ♡
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♡ Pairings: mobster!boyfriend!jimin x chubby!fem!reader
♡ Genre: mafia au/angst/smut
♡ Summary: After an arguement with your boyfriend, you set out to get back at him by bringing a date to the restaurant he frequents on a night you know he'll be there. It's a dangerous game, toying with another human life to get your way, but you do love danger, don't you? You wouldn't be looking to make a killer jealous if you didn't.
♡ Word Count: 3.2k
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♡ Warnings: appearance of other members (non romantic), dom Jimin w/ switch vibes sprinkled in, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, clit teasing, marking (hickeys), pet names (baby), you're feral for each other, fingering (f receiving), spanking, you give him a lil slap, choking, bathroom sex, possessiveness, jealousy, you're both kinda psychotic, implied murder, & that's it for the list of wholesome things in this fic.
♡ A/N: I'm such a sucker for mafia movies so I have the biggest soft spot for mafia fics. I want to thank @anyamaris for reading this first and encouraging me along the way when I was struggling with writer's block. Idk what I'd do without my #1 cheerleader for my dom Jimin agenda ❤️
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Some of the prettiest animals in nature are simultaneously the deadliest. Park Jimin is no exception...
It’s impossible not to be enchanted by him. His face is a heavenly mixture of handsomeness and beauty. The cadence of his voice is like a song you can’t quite get out of your head and just when you think you have it’s back again. It’s all enough to make a girl blind to the blood on his hands.
Falling in love with him made the rest of the world all fuzzy. It blurred out everything. Not just the money laundering or the drug trafficking. To love him, to be loved by him, makes everything else feel like background noise. You've never touched a hard drug in your life but, the way he makes you feel, he must qualify as one. 
That’s why you’re here doing the dumbest shit you’ve ever done in your life.
Arguments are inevitable in relationships. But arguments when you’re dating a mob guy? They’re different beasts entirely and it’s a bitch to tame them. Your last argument with Jimin led to you packing a bag and running off to your best friend’s place. In the beginning you never had to question if you came before everything else. You were special to him—at least you thought you were—and he’d stop anything to be with you.
But lately that hasn’t been the case. He’s been replacing his presence in your life with gifts, thinking he can make up for missed dates and lonely nights with designer bags. Maybe the other girlfriends are content with cuddling up to some ugly mink coat in place of their man but you aren’t one of them. 
He just can’t seem to get that through his thick skull so you’ve set out to make him. If the death stare he’s giving you across this bustling restaurant is any indication of how your plan’s going, it’s working like a charm. You spent hours styling your hair just the way he likes it. Elegant and sleek, marrying beautifully with the softness of your face.
Your manicured nails are painted a translucent blue that deepens the slightest bit when the light hits it a certain way. The dress you’re wearing accentuates your curves in all the places he loves which, let’s be honest, is everywhere. And your heels, the heels, somehow makes your ass look more perfect than it already is. All of this and you’re sitting at a table having dinner with another man. 
You spot Namjoon throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, no doubt leaning in to give him one of his infamous pep talks. "Don’t worry about her” he’s surely saying, “It’s not worth it, man. See, sometimes love is just…” Joon goes on, doing his best to keep his younger brother from doing something stupid but Jimin’s hardly listening. How can he when his blood’s boiling hot enough to eat its way through his flesh?
Every Sunday night the brothers and their girlfriends come here for dinner. The owners, a sweet elderly couple, love them as if they were their own and give them the biggest table no matter how packed it is. This is the one night they get to pretend they’re a normal family. It’s tradition and you don’t fuck with tradition. Everyone knows that. You know that. 
“The thing a lot of women don’t understand is that men by nature aren’t monogamous” your date rambles between messy bites of dinner. The man’s not ugly by any means but god is he a pig, in more ways than one. Not that you’re complaining. It’s why you had your best friend set you up with him. Whoever you bought here was no doubt being led to slaughter. Who better than a pig?
A chill runs through you at the ruthlessness of your own thoughts, wiping the smile from your face. Looking up, Jimin captures you in his gaze, the death glare replaced with a look of childlike amusement. It’s as if the smile had fled from your face to find its new home on his, taunting you from afar. What’s he smiling for? You’re not foolish enough to think it’s for anything good. 
“I was thinking, it’s kinda loud in here. Wanna go to my place?” your date asks, his poor attempt at getting laid tonight falling on deaf ears.
Jimin stands up, slipping out of his suit jacket as he does so. Rolling up the sleeves of his pressed dress shirt, he leans to whisper something in Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi pours him a shot and he knocks it back like it’s nothing. The rest of the table watches on, concerned but doing their best to carry on dinner as usual. Their collective heart rate increases but none more than yours.
Maybe you hadn’t really thought this one out. Noticing the color drain from your face, your date reaches out to touch your hand. “Don’t!” you snap, jumping up from your seat. “I’m sorry. I just need a second.”  Jimin’s halfway across the dining room when you flee toward the bathroom, nearly knocking into some poor innocent waiter in the process. 
Navigating your way through the halls, you scramble to find a way out. You’ll tell the guy you’re sick. That’s it. Say you’re not feeling too well, must be the food or something, and send him on his way. Pretend this never happened.
“Beautiful dress, darling” an older woman smiles as she leaves the bathroom. You dash in before the door closes behind her, peeking your head back out to avoid being rude. “Thank you!” you shout after her, quickly shutting the door and hurrying to the sink to splash some water on your face.
“Snap out of it” you whisper, flicking specks of icy water at the makeup you worked tirelessly to apply. “Maybe…maybe he won’t do anything, right? We’re in public. He wouldn’t—” You force a weak, pained smile at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. “Who are you kidding?” you groan, burying your face in your hands, “He’s gonna kill him.”
“But you knew that already, didn’t you?” sighs a voice that is distinctively not yours. Your hands drop from your face and there Jimin is, standing in the doorway with that same smile on. The one he’d so brutally ripped from your face. And here you are, shivering like a child too afraid of the monster under the bed to make a run for it. 
In all your panic you could’ve sworn you locked the door when, in fact, you’d done no such thing. If he’d knocked you would’ve had to open it anyway—you’ve never been great at saying no to him—but at least you would’ve given yourself a fighting chance. Nothing to stress your pretty little head about. Jimin steps in, easing the door closed, and you hear a sharp click. It’s locked now.
The heels of his black Louboutin shoes tap against the polished tile as he approaches the sink. Your heart jumps with each tap, the sound growing unbearably louder the closer he gets. Jimin brings his arms around your waist, holding you as only lovers do, “You want me to hurt him, don’t you? Want me to break every bone in his body to show you how much I love you?” His full lips brush against your neck, soft tongue running along the surface of your skin like the head of a match ready to light up with dazzling flames.
Your eyes are glued to the mirror, watching helplessly as his hands skate up and down your body, fingertips ghosting your most sensitive areas. His touch is a truth serum, forcing you to betray yourself and lay your motives bare. “You protect the things you love, Jimin. I only wanted to know if I was still one of them. Even if that meant…” you shudder at the thought. “We get what we want by any means. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it?” 
Jimin grins, locking eyes with your reflection as he inches your dress up to reveal your pillowy thighs. “Aah but you already have me. I let you throw your little tantrum but I’ll never let you go. You know that.” His fingers dip between the warmth of your thighs, teasing your clit through your panties.
“So why?” he whispers, his other hand coming up to lovingly stroke your neck, “Why would you try to embarrass me?”
You part your lips to speak but your words are forced back down by the sudden pressure applied to your windpipe by his hand. All that escapes are broken words and hushed gasps for air. The light abandons his eyes, that boyish charm he so effortlessly wields burning to ash as you squirm in his grip. You kick your legs to get free but it only serves to give him the room he needs to tear your panties to the side, the pads of his fingertips dripping with your arousal as they glide through your folds.
He loosens his grip on your neck and you manage to rasp out “Mmm…sorry…didn’t mean” before you’re plunged back into silence. Curling his fingers against your entrance, he sinks one into your core. A single digit pumping into needy walls that are already clenching in anticipation of the next one. Snatching your head back, he kisses you like he hates you. Hates you so much that he loves you. Loves you so much that he hates you. A cycle, endless and all consuming, that neither of you can break from.
“Prove it to me” he demands between your lips, plunging another finger into you, “Bend over and show me how sorry you are.” Your back arches, bringing your soft ass flush against his bulge. You press back into him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass each time his fingers slam into your core. Jimin sneaks a glimpse at the mirror to watch the way your body jiggles from the motion. Thighs trembling, tits rocking in sync with the harsh movements of his wrist.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby.” Jimin slips his hand away from your neck, drenched fingers abandoning your pussy to apply sharp, wet slaps to your ass.
Spinning around to face him, you land an equally sharp slap across his face, “Choke me like that again and I’ll rip your head off.”
If the burning of your palm is any indication, you know you hit him hard but he’s unphased. He's actually smiling, licking his lips at you like you’re the most delicious thing in this restaurant. He sweeps you off of your feet, setting you down on the sink, “So. Fucking. Pretty.”
The marble’s even colder against your bottom than it was your hands but you don’t give a shit. Jimin’s tongue’s down your throat as he pushes your dress up, ripping away what was left of your panties. That’s the only thing you give a shit about. 
“Jimin!” you giggle, tugging at the zipper on his pants, “You’re gonna make me fall.”
Hooking his arms behind your knees, he spreads your legs, pushing them to your chest. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you fall.”
“Promise?” you pout, fingertips tracing the veins along his length.
They pulse and twitch as he raises his hips, dragging the underside of his cock between your folds. “I promise. I won’t—aah, shit, baby” he moans, his cock glazed in your arousal without having even been inside of you yet. “I didn’t know you missed me that much.” 
You grab onto his shirt, the cotton knotted in your fists as you bask in the feeling of the head brushing your clit. “I did. Missed you so much” you mewl, guiding him to your entrance. Jimin peppers your cheeks with kisses, pushing into you. Filling you. Claiming you.  “I, mmphh, missed, fuck, missed you too” he confesses, each word emphasized by thrusts that have you wanting to climb every wall in this bathroom.
When it comes to women Jimin’s told more lies than he can remember but never with you. He misses you and he means it, misses you so much that it hurts. Not just because you take his cock so well, somehow managing to look majestic when you’re being fucked up against this mirror. But because he feels incomplete without you.
Before you all he knew was violence and greed, constantly chasing power that would never be enough. Always needing more. He often wondered how much money it would take, how many buried enemies, to fill the emptiness that’s haunted him for as long as he can remember. And then you came along—the girl whose eyes twinkle as she stares up at him, your entire body calling out his name—and he had his answer.
All he needed to cure that emptiness, rid him of the nagging feeling that something’s missing, was you. But men like him have an image to maintain. In this world people come to know you for things, fear you for them, and you can’t let them think you’re soft. Not for a second. Not if you want to get what you want. “We get what we want by any means”. That is what he told you but nothing’s worth having if it’s by way of losing you. 
Dragging you to the edge of the sink, heart thumping out of his chest from how tightly you’re clenching, he whispers into your open mouth, “Come home. I’m in hell without you. Everything’s so…so empty. Just say you’ll come back to me. Say it.”
“I-I’ll come back home. Fuck, I’ll go the moon if you want me to” you pant, watery eyes sending mascara streaming down your cheeks. You tug harder at his shirt, sending a button or two clinking into the mirror. He’s in you so deep, hitting every spot like only he knows how, that you’re ready to explode. Implode? One or the other. Maybe both.
Jimin laughs, his tongue grazing yours, “You wanna go to the moon, baby? Hold onto me. I’ll take you.”
Knowing better than to doubt him, you throw your arms over his shoulders and hold on like your life depends on it. The sink creaks beneath you as he fucks harder into a pussy that just won’t stop leaking for him. You lose control of your body. All of it belongs to him, as it should. You make no attempts at denying yourself the ultimate satisfaction when it hits. Your lips crash together as you climax, your moans, bordering on screams, pouring onto his tongue.
He eagerly devours them, returning some of his own as your walls spasm wildly, milking the cum from his swollen tip. Your cunt wants every drop of it and he’s determined to give it to you. Fill you up until it’s dripping out of you, making your thighs warm and sticky with his seed. Your body gives out and he tucks an arm behind you, sticking to his promise not to let you fall.
Staring up at the ceiling, you’re sure you see space, stars twinkling before your eyes as you float there, completely weightless. Jimin’s lips meet your heaving chest, suckling at your silky skin to leave hickeys along your collarbone.
“Mine. All mine” he repeats, “Love you so much.” 
You run your fingers through his hair as he marks you, letting yourself get lost in the moment. “I love you too.” 
“Excuse me, sir. You’re holding up the bathroom” a comically high pitched voice says, tapping at the bathroom door. Jimin drags himself upright, knowing the voice too well. “You okay?” he asks, shuffling to make you both look presentable. He tries to fix your dress but there’s no use, he’s stretched it out more than he has you.
“Baby, it’s fine” you giggle, shooing him away, “I got it.” 
Jimin unlocks the door, snatching it open to reveal precisely who you both expected. “Thank god!” Jungkook cheers, rushing into the bathroom and over to the toilet. “Whose idea was it to have one bathroom here, man? I’ve had to piss for like—” Reading the look on Jimin’s face, he follows his gaze over to the sink where you sit buzzed off of the afterglow with your tattered panties at your feet.
Jungkook grins, looking you both up and down, “Safe to say you two are having a good night, huh?”
Jimin hits Jungkook in the back of the head, walking over to help you down from the sink. He holds you close to him, kissing you as he steers you towards the door. “Is it done?” Jimin asks over his shoulder but you don’t hear Jungkook’s response. It’s drowned out by the symphony of sounds that assault you as you venture back out into the restaurant, Jimin’s arms still holding you tight. Scanning the restaurant you spot the table you were at with your date but now there’s another couple there. 
“Long time no see!” Jin says, jumping up to hug you. His girlfriend follows behind, hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in years. “Come sit with me” she insists, noticing your disheveled appearance, “I’ll fix you right up. I have everything in my purse.” You settle into the chair beside her and she goes straight to work cleaning the mascara from your face.
Jimin sits beside you, an arm draped over the back of your chair, and watches attentively as you get your makeup done. “Nice to have you back” Taehyung smiles, pulling something from under the table and passing it to you. Jimin sets them down before you—your jacket and your purse. You’d forgotten them at the table when you fled to the bathroom.
“Uh, thanks, I—” you stutter, cut off by Hoseok’s sudden reappearance at the end of the table. You’d seen him earlier but hadn’t noticed his seat was empty when you returned. He tries to play it off, hide it behind a smile, but he’s out of breath, utterly exhausted from something. The men glance around the table at each other. It’s a silent conversation you know you shouldn’t be in on. 
“Jimin” you whisper, when you’re sure you aren’t interrupting, “Where’s…” 
Jimin casually pours you both a drink, presenting you with a glass of wine. “Where’s who?” 
“The guy that I was…”
“The guy that you were what, baby?” he asks, brow crinkling as he feigns ignorance. “You’ve been here with me all night, haven’t you?” He turns to the rest of the table who all seem to share his collective memory loss. “Hasn’t she?” 
“Absolutely.”
“Yeah.”
“Been here all night.”
“See? Now enjoy your drink and finish getting your makeup done” he coos, kissing you on the cheek.
Just like that, everyone resumes their conversations like it’s any other Sunday night dinner. You take a sip of your wine, the post-orgasm haze finally lifts from your brain, and all of the pieces come together in your mind. You shake the truth away, opting instead for the constructed reality necessary to pretend you just didn’t get a man killed.
What date? What guy? You’ve been here all night with Jimin. The man you came here with. The man you’ll leave here with. The man you love too much to ever run away from again. Unless, of course, you want to raise the homicide rate.
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