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sailoryooons · 8 months

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Angel | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Mafia!Yoongi x Sex worker! F. reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences.

☾ Word Count: 15,551

☾ Genre: Semi-established relationship, mafia, smut, surprising amount of fluff

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Sex work and mentions of sex work, Yoongi and the reader are very confident in their relationship but also don’t want to ask for more, uses of the word whore negatively in some parts, vague references to dismemberment in an offhand conversation, intense action sequences, depictions of violence, reader is smacked around and kidnapped, depictions of injuries and pain, two sequences of detailed anxiety attacks, graphic depictions of blood, violent scene in which reader fights for her life and gores someone, depictions of murder/panicking while committing murder? Idk how to describe that one, mentions of nightmares/light reference to PTSD post-murder, explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (m. and f. receiving) light throat fucking, nipple play, ass play (f. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, Yoongi… almost doing a strip tease but it’s not as goofy as that it’s more sensual?? Yoongi is a little bit possessive at the end.

☾ Published: September 3, 2023

☾ A/N: You voted for it, you got it! Introducing the fic that came out on top for the Hali’s Happy Agust Bracket Challenge! Thank you to everyone who voted during the entire month of August, I had such an amazing time seeing everyone yelling and voting and sharing and having fun with it. It means the world to me that you guys have fun and enjoy doing these kinds of things! Here is mafia Yoongi in all of his glory - I did try to keep it tame with the murder/violence/criminal side of it because there are things in this genre I’d like to table in later (most likely on Hali’s After Dark) but I hope that you enjoy this! Somehow it really turned into two people who are just !!! eternally confident in one another, despite their strange trades. Shout out to the hurricane and covid for FAILING TO STOP ME FROM WRITING THIS I’M A GOD (not really I am very tired but I did it osifjdoigj). This is mostly edited.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Angel Playlist

Yoongi would rather be anywhere else but the low lit, smoky club. The production team on the dancefloor below uses way too much cryogenic smoke for Yoongi’s taste, fogging the dancing bodies with thick clouds, the lasers reflecting off the smoke in dizzying patterns. From the VIP section, he isn’t choked by the haze, but he is choking on the cloying perfume of the woman in his lap.

She’s pretty enough, one of Kwan’s finest. No doubt trained from a very young age to please her employer’s most prestigious guests. Yoongi doesn’t touch her though, save for letting her sit on his lap, her hand cradling the back of his neck. She leans into his chest, her breath close to his ear as he watches Kwan consider Yoongi’s deal.

Yoongi doesn’t have to make the deal at all. Offering to become a minority owner of the club is a mercy, really. Yoongi could go after the investors who fronted the money when Kwan opened his business in the middle of the entertainment district, and he could wipe out the petty criminals pushing drugs in shadowy alcoves near the bathroom, damaging the cut that Kwan takes from them at the end of each night.

Yoongi could even go as far as to sow chaos every night, sending in his followers to pick fights with the elite clientele, make it a nightmare for the celebrity clients and cities government officials who use the back rooms for more nefarious matters, exposing the underbelly of La Vie if he felt like it.

Investments, Hoseok always insists. Investments, not enemies. They already hate that you’re taking a chunk of what they built - especially the seaside property. Let’s try to play nice and show face.

Forcing hands is exactly how Yoongi got to this position, sitting in a club and offering Kwan a rather generous deal: Kwan retains eighty percent of ownership, Yoongi becomes a twenty percent owner, the only person allowed to supply the club’s drugs, is paid for security services, and has access to the information funneled through those that work the private client rooms. He could just take it like he always has, and he still has half a mind to do.

Men like Kwan who think they’re savvy in business and the nuances of the criminal enterprises that run the city make Yoongi’s lip curl.

“These terms are bullshit, and I don’t have control of the back rooms.” Kwan looks up from the contract, glasses sliding down his nose. He’s a little bit older than Yoongi, and good looking. He has a traditionally handsome face that idols and actors like to get moderated to look like. He looks like new money though, with designer pieces that don’t quite match and a Patek watch that is flashy, but not coveted. “While it is under my jurisdiction, it is a handshake deal with Anya that she runs them the way she wants. They are her clients, not mine.”

“Then Anya will have a handshake deal with me.” Kwan’s face darkens. Yoongi is tired of this. Is tired of the feeling of the girl’s hand stroking the hair at the base of his neck, is tired of the way she presses up against him, and is tired of Kwan’s dawdling.

“Take the weekend to think about it,” Yoongi insists and stands. The girl falls off him, letting out a surprised sound as she hits the booth. Yoongi adjusts his suit and frowns when he sees there is body glitter on it. He casts a harsh look at the girl who stares up at him with big eyes before turning back to Kwan. “There are no terms for negotiating. Thank you for the drinks and the entertainment. You’ll hear from me.”

Kwan’s face is red like the neon of Yoongi’s favorite motel when he walks out of the booth. Synth and base rattle the metal catwalk that makes up the VIP section, overlooking the dancefloor. Seokjin slides into step with Yoongi as he goes, an imposing shadow as they circumnavigate the walkway.

It’s loud and raucous when they get to the dance floor. Members of the security team watch Yoongi as he goes, their eyes alert. He pays them little attention, just like the gazes of the people dancing in the ground when they catch sight of him.

Sometimes, Yoongi feels a little bit like a myth in moments like this. Out in public, Yoongi is an astutely dressed man who speaks quietly and says very few words. He wears nice but not gaudy jewelry, and he always styles his long hair slicked back, showing off the faded, red scar over his eye. What Yoongi lacks in height, he makes up for in omnipresent stares and quick reactions.

Everyone in the city knows exactly who Min Yoongi is, and they know that he doesn’t make threats. He simply acts.

Outside, rain falls from the inky sky. Hoseok leans against the brick wall under the awning, clove-tinged smoke drifting from the cigarette jammed between his lips. When he sees Yoongi, Hoseok pushes off the wall and adjusts his suit jacket. Where Seokjin looks tall, dark and imposing, Hoseok is wiry and sharp, dressed in all white, looking pristine as he raises his eyebrows at Yoongi in question. Yoongi nods towards the idling SUV as an answer.

They don’t bother with an umbrella. Yoongi ducks his head down as he quickly walks across the pavement and into the car. The interior is moderately cool in the SUV. He takes a seat in the middle, Seokjin sitting alone in the row behind him and Hoseok to his right.

Outside of the rainy window, the world turns into a smear of wet neon. Checking his watch, Yoongi notes that it’s just past midnight. If he hurries, he can stop by the Red before he goes home for the evening. If he goes home for the evening, at that point. The thought of sinking into sheets that smell like almond and cinnamon ease him.

“So?” Hoseok flicks through his phone, face lit up blue by the screen. He looks hauntingly beautiful, all edges and sharp lines. “Deal or no deal?”

“Giving him the weekend to think about it.” Hoseok sighs. “He thinks it’s a bad deal for him because it it is, and he’s stuck on the operation Anya runs in the back rooms. He doesn’t want to lose that connection to her. She feeds him information for his extortion of city officials.”

“How else would he have cleared that permit near the docks to build,” Seokjin mutters. Yoongi casts a glance into the back seat where Seokjin sullenly stares out of the window. “Fucker is sticking his nose in a district he has no rights to. At least we had the means to get that operation cancelled.”

“Yeah, and it’s part of why he doesn’t want to deal with us,” Hoseok says. “Even so, offering the deal is the right move. If he doesn’t take it, crush him like a fucking bug. He’s an intelligent businessman, it’s no surprise that he’s going to try and find a way around you. He might sniff around or try and fuck up some assets.”

“Hobi, you better fucking hope he doesn’t go to that fucker Seo.”

“He doesn’t have the balls. Seo Changbin is unhinged and volatile. He’s more likely to send Kwan to his family in chainsawed pieces.”

Yoongi grunts, amused. “Bang has kept him under control as of late. Seokjin, have Jungkook look into getting some people in there. I’m not interested in them linking up as permanent partners.”

A headache presses against Yoongi’s temples. He doesn’t care to debate politics and machinations with Hoseok and Seokjin. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the headrest, letting their discussion fall to a dull sound.

Yoongi feels like he’s bleeding at the edges, the color of him spilling out of neat lines and all over the pages. His empire is growing faster than he can keep up with, he’s playing politics more than he’s playing the savvy gangster, and the more capital he gains, the more of himself he loses.

When Yoongi had started to climb the ladder of crime and chaos, he didn’t know where it would lead him. An early grave, perhaps. But Yoongi has always been smart and knows how to pick his battles, knows how to innovate. He is not the most inspiring man to lead people in the underbelly of the city, but he does know what he’s talking about and he’s good at guessing what people want most.

People, he’s discovered, all want the same thing, whether they’re at the bottom rung or the top.

The boy he once was wouldn’t recognize him. The new Yoongi wears designer suits, the carefully curated art collections in the opulent halls of his home, the shaking hands with political figures to help install certain assurances within the city. There are more officials that line Yoongi’s pocket than there are gangs in the city, but it’s a weapon he wields well.

Old Yoongi might not be so impressed.

Yoongi feels the phantom ache of the scar on his eye. It doesn’t matter what old Yoongi wants, though. This new version of him is doing whatever he needs to live another day and to install another brick in his kingdom.

The driver drops Yoongi off at home. Tall gates with security cameras and guard house at the entrance keeps almost everyone away from the Min estate. There’s been a few idiots here or there who have climbed the walls and met the three lovely dobermans that roam the property freely.

Erebus catches Yoongi’s eyes as he walks to the large garage. The eldest of Yoongi’s canines sits and watches Yoongi approach with keen, dark eyes. He grins at the dog, whistling lowly. Erebus stands and joins Yoongi on his way to the side door, jamming in a code to the garage.

Inside, the automatic lights flip on. Yoongi squints from the harsh lighting, closing the door behind him. Rows of vehicles gleam under the fluorescents. Sports cars, old collectibles, sturdy SUVs. Yoongi has an armada at his disposal, though he so rarely drives himself anywhere these days. Not after Seo put a hit on him a few months ago, the insane fuck.

Yoongi pulls the tie loose from his neck and begins to change. He presses his finger on a thumb-print lock to a wardrobe and pops it open. Inside are casual clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, a riding jacket, boots and a gleaming black helmet. Nondescript clothes that can belong to anyone.

Every movement feels heavy. He should go upstairs and swallow down something to help him knockout, but he doesn’t. Instead, he finishes going through the motions and tosses the worn clothes in the wardrobe and walks over to the parked H2R in, all sleek, black metal.

Erebus sniffs Yoongi’s knee once, a sort of send off. Yoongi bends down and kisses the doberman on the head before shooing him, sending the dog through the garage and up the stairs that lead to the main house.

Instead of starting the bike in the garage and peeling out the front of the home, Yoongi pops the kickstand up and walks it out of the side door, careful not to bang the tailpipe on the door or scrape the shiny black paint. Once outside, he walks it through the entire yard, arms aching a little as he keeps the bike balanced.

Gravel crunches beneath his boots and the tires of the motorcycle. Crickets chirp in the yard until he makes it to the back gate in his home that opens up to a government only street. Being back-to-back with the minister has its perks, like an extra security measure that he doesn’t have to monitor constantly.

Swinging his leg over the bike, Yoongi slides the helmet on, turns the key, and presses the on switch. It roars to life, vibrating underneath him. He revs it a few times before he pulls back on the throttle and shoots down the street like a bullet from a gun.

Iron gates, walls and security houses blur past him. He lives among the gods of the city, high up over the glittering lights and those who pay pilgrimage to the political, criminal and tech giants who loom over them. Yoongi was one of them not that long ago, rising faster than he could have thought possible.

Still, he descends often. Nightly, even. Like even the most powerful gods, Yoongi’s weakness is a vice he can’t - doesn’t want to - rid himself from. While he doesn’t think of himself as impervious, Yoongi doesn’t have many weaknesses.

His biggest one, though, spends most days at the Red with a private suite in the luxury pleasure house disguised as a motel.

Yoongi parks his bike in a secured garage that he has a paid spot in. The payment for it is discrete and in all cash, one of Yoongi’s several attempts at covering his tracks when he visits.

The garage is still a few blocks away from the Red. He tucks his hands into his pocket, enjoying the balmy evening, rain still clinging to the air though not falling now. This late at night, there aren’t many people out. Cars drive by, tires hissing on the wet road. Neon lights burn above fluorescent-lit windows of small food shops.

At the end of a dead end street, a red motel sign buzzes against the night sky. The non-descript brick building doesn’t look like much, but Yoongi knows better than most. Instead of approaching the front door, he leans against the wall a few shops down, tucked underneath the shadow of an awning.

Pulling his phone out, he dials and brings it up to his ear. As the phone rings, he looks up at the four-story building. There are windows with dark curtains pulled shut and never opened. Yoongi knows that the glass looks ordinary, but is bullet proof grade to protect the most private of clients.

It doesn’t look like much. The brick is old, it’s bracketed by a laundromat and a hardware store, and across the street is a noodle shop and boarded up general store.

“It’s late,” you answer, voice scratchy. Yoongi nearly shivers at the sound of your voice, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in the rain-tinged night. “What’s a girl to do when a boy calls her this late, hmm?”

“Let said boy upstairs and out of the rain.”

“Hmm.” You don’t say yes, but Yoongi can hear the rustle of sheets and the soft creak of the bed when you get up. He waits in silence, though he imagines you’re walking across the bedroom to head to the main part of the state room. “It’s not even raining anymore, I bet.”

“It is. I’m soaked to the bone. Freezing. I might catch a cold.”

“Whatever shall we do?”

He grins, ducking his head. He can feel the warmth climb up his neck to his face, shaking his head. Only you can get him like this, heart skipping like he’s in grade school making out with someone behind the bleachers for the first time.

“Come on,” you tease on the other line. “Your door will be open.”

“Thanks, Angel.”

“Mhmm.”

His door isn’t really his. But it is a private access door in the back of the alley that requires a keycard and has an armed guard sitting in a security room next to the entry way on the inside. Yoongi hangs up the phone and heads to the special door, avoiding the puddles dripping from fire escapes.

Just as Yoongi reaches the heavy door, he hears the beep of the auto-lock and it swings open with you leaning on the frame. He wants to eat you whole. You’re not in work clothes, meaning you either wrapped up a while ago or didn’t work tonight. He doesn’t want to know so he doesn’t ask, instead walking up to you as you step to the side and let him in.

Glowing light flickers underneath the security door to the left. You close the door behind you and pass him, letting your fingers grab his hand and link fingers. There are security cameras here, but it’ll look normal, with you pulling him through the halls and to the elevator. Touching is very much permitted here. Encouraged. Required.

In the elevator, you stand by Yoongi. He leans into you, silent. You squeeze his hand, very small in his, but warm enough to soothe him. You smell faintly almond and cinnamon, making him go wild as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You giggle, leaning into him fully, arm pressed to arm.

Perhaps it’s stupid to be so open like this. When Yoongi first started coming here, he was still and awkward, never coming too close, never letting himself be too familiar. Now, the need for you is too strong. He doesn’t care if there’s a camera on him watching him melt into you. He doesn’t care if maybe it shows that this is a little more than money, a little more than just a quick fix.

Yoongi has been coming to you for almost three years. He doesn’t remember when it stopped being about sex, but it hasn’t been that way for a while. At first, he thought it was so silly. Mafia man in love with a woman he pays to have sex with him. Except it wasn’t so silly. You’d long stopped considering him a client and insisting he doesn’t pay you.

He doesn’t dare. He doesn’t know what money you make from clients. He knows that it has to be good to be at the Red, which specializes in top clientele. He knows it has to be great, even, because you always meet on your terms. In this space.

He also doesn’t dare to ask you to stop. He doesn’t know how many clients you take, or who. He doesn’t know when, he doesn’t know how often. He knows nothing about your work except that he doesn’t ask you to stop and you don’t ask him if he wants you too.

It’s an unspoken rule between you. Yoongi is too afraid to ask you to come live with him, and perhaps you’re too afraid to ask him to take you. Whatever the reasons, neither one of you is brave enough to cross the line first. So instead, you dance along it, making whatever this is work.

Inside the stateroom is clean and smells like expensive candles. The room is luxurious and is exclusively yours. A cut of your earnings go to holding the room, just like the rest of the workers in the other rooms.

With the door firmly locked behind the two of you, Yoongi heads to the open kitchen and leans against the counter, facing you. You kick off your slippers and turn to face him, half shadowed by the darkness of the hall, half lit by the warm salt lamp in the living room.

Yoongi drags his eyes up and down your frame. Soft curves, gentle lips, kind eyes. He was gone the first time he saw you, and he’s gone now. Even after all this time.

“What?” you ask, fingers fidgeting with your t-shirt. He thinks it might be one of his, but he might be imagining it.

“Come here,” he instructs, patting his thigh.

You grin and approach him. He opens his arms for you and he sighs as you press against him. Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing him tight. Slotting your head between his shoulder and neck, you hide your face against him, breath warm against his throat. He envelops you in his arms, wrapped around your shoulders and draped down your back.

Almond fills his senses. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing you in. You don’t say anything, content to sag against him in the low light of the room. This is what he comes here for more than anything. Everything else you offer is secondary. His foremost desire is this - you.

“Everything okay?” you finally ask, because of course you do.

“Mhmm. Just a long night.”

“You smell like perfume.”

“Hmm?”

“Like peaches.”

He opens his eyes and looks down at you. You crane your head so that you’re peering up at him with one eye, brow arched. His mouth twitches. “Jealous?”

“Maybe.”

“Interesting.”

“Not particularly.”

He lowers his arms, letting them drape around your waist. He smacks the round of your ass a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to make you pout. “We really going to get into the mechanics of this right now?”

Your smile is all he needs to know you’re not serious. At least, not enough to do something about it. “No, but it’s fun to tease you.”

“Perhaps I should tease you back, then.”

Hand in hand, you lead him to your room. Yoongi sees the white sheets and grins. White sheets are for him. Grey sheets are for clients, something you’d established in the infancy of whatever this relationship is. He appreciates the little layers of how you make things different for him. You make him feel special - and not the kind that he pays for.

Falling backward into the bed, you look up at him with those fucking eyes that make him week in the knees. It’s dark in the room but he knows it well, standing at the foot of your bed and reaching down to snatch an ankle and pull you a bit closer. You squeal as he does, making a jolt of joy go through him, grinning.

“How was your day?” he asks, lifting your foot to rest on his shoulder. He presses an innocent kiss to your ankle and he watches your brows furrow. “What?”

“Are you a foot person?”

“What if I was?”

You shrug a shoulder, watch him trail kisses down your calf. He nips the meat of your leg, an innocent bite but one that makes your leg twitch. “I’d say I’m surprised to learn something new about you after three years.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi lowers himself so that he’s on his knees, the carpet pressing into his slacks. The back of your knee fits perfectly over his shoulder, your leg resting along his back. You lean up on your elbows and look down at him, watching him settle between your legs. “Think you know everything about me, huh?”

Yoongi’s hands feel your warm skin. He marvels at the softness of your thighs, stroking his hands back and forth. Looking at you, he raises his brow in question. You’re too distracted by the feeling of his hands. It stirs something in him, and he cruves his fingers, dragging his blunt nails softly against your skin.

“Feels good,” you mumble, half-lidded. “I do know everything about you, Min Yoongi.”

“That so?”

“Yes. I could eat your heart if I wanted to.”

Yoongi’s stomach flips at how right you are, at how much you know it. Your confidence in his feelings never fails to make him feel like he is cut open and laid bare at your feet, waiting for you to step on him. To make him regret that vulnerability.

You never do. At every turn, you’ve shown him that you won’t take advantage. That you have no desire to use the fact that one of the most powerful men in the city is in the palm of your hand. Power for the taking. You could wield him like a weapon, he thinks, and yet you don’t. All you want from him is for him to speak freely, to kiss you often, and to hold you tightly.

So he does.

Yoongi presses kisses up the softness of your thighs. You drop from your elbows to lay flat on your back again, your breath catching. He watches raptly at the rise and fall of your chest as you gasp a little. He knows exactly what you like, reaching for your sleep shorts to pull them off slowly.

Tonight, he has nowhere else to go. Neither do you, letting him lean further up between your legs to press wet, open-mouthed kisses against your hips. You squirm a little, sensitive in the hip area. He loves it - would die for it - letting his tongue slip between his teeth to lave over your hot skin to soothe stinging flesh where he’s nipped you.

His hands are familiar with every dimple in your skin and every curve. He traces them as he pulls your shorts down, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear as he does. He throws them on the floor, hands settling on the inside of your knees as he presses you open, dropping his eyes to your wet folds.

Yoongi groans. You’re always so eager for him. That’s never been an illusion, the way your cunt drips slowly down to the curve of your ass at the most innocent of touches from him. It fuels Yoongi’s ego, knowing he has this effect on you. Knowing he’s the only one who can get you trembling in anticipation just by kissing the inside of your knees.

He made the mistake only once asking if you ever get off with your other clients. The flash of anger and irritation had never made him ask again, but you at least gave him an answer: no.

Thinking back on it now, Yoongi doesn’t know why he asked. He doesn’t care who you have before or between. All he cares about is being in the darkness of this room, your scent heady, his head shadowed between your legs.

Leaning forward, Yoongi drags the flat of his tongue up your cunt slowly. You let out a moan and he hums, closing his eyes. He’s been craving your sweet tang all day, the tip of his tongue lingering just under your clit before he drags around it, missing your bundle of nerves on purpose. You let out a sound but he grins, removing his tongue to return to tracing sloppy kisses on your legs instead.

Already lightheaded, he grounds himself by sliding his hands along the outside of your thighs, gripping you here and there as he lavishes you with attention. He knows he’s tired, but he at least wants this. Wants to taste you before bed, to have you melt in his mouth, fingers in his hair. He needs it.

Yoongi doesn’t dip into the drugs that his operation injects into the streets. He doesn’t need to. There’s nothing that makes him forget who and where he is the way you do. Nothing that amounts to feeling your soft skin beneath his palms, smelling the barest hint of sweat beneath your vanilla perfume.

When Yoongi gets a taste of you, it’s an instant high. He feels lost, hands skimming up your thighs to hold your hips to the bed. Your hands seek his, linking your fingers and pressing your joined hands to your hips as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh.

This is why he keeps coming back. The intimacy. The reassurance that this is something more than an accident that Yoongi stumbled on a few years ago. That this is more than the roll of bills he will leave on the nightstand tonight, even when you say not to.

There is nothing else he needs in these stolen moments with you.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, voice soft. He hums in response. “Please, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Good,” he shoots back, biting your knee. You twitch and curse at him, making him laugh. Your glossy cunt is a sure sign that you’re not lying, though. Clit swollen, hole clenching. “Fuck, you have such a wet pussy.”

“Then put your fucking mouth on it, Yoongi.”

He laughs. “As you wish, Angel.”

A breathy whine in the shape of Yoongi’s name leaves your mouth when he starts to eat you out properly. He takes his time, eyes closed as he indulges, tongue rolling up and down your slick pussy. You turn liquid in his mouth, your hips canting as he flicks his tongue across your clit. You shiver in his hands and he grins, gently sucking your clit into his mouth.

“Yeah,” you pant. “Fuck, like that.”

Alternating between fastening his mouth on your pussy to suck gently and sliding his tongue into your hole, Yoongi goes with what he knows makes you a mess. Holds out his tongue and lets you fuck yourself against his face, your hand coming to grip his long hair.

The wet slide of you against his face makes him ache in his pants. He ignores it, determined to hold you still as he buries his face in deeper, picking up the firmness and pace of his mouth and tongue. He feels your essence drip down his chin and his neck. Hears the squelch when he thrusts his tongues into your pussy. Can’t get enough of the way your thighs close around his head, muffling the sound of you whining and saying his name.

Yoongi’s scalp stings when you pull his hair. He doesn’t care. He whips his head back and forth between your legs, tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. You’re shaking underneath him and he pushes you further, dipping low to slurp at your pussy bottom to top, not letting an ounce of you spill out.

“Holy fuck,” you squeak, voice high-pitched as you arch off the bed. He looks up at you, mouth attached. “Your fucking mouth.”

He grins, and leans into you further, pushes your thighs higher. Your legs bend easily under his weight. His hips are pressed against the foot of the bed now, hips rolling slightly, seeking for friction. His eyes close as he gets the barest bit of friction against his cock, more focused on making you come into his mouth than getting himself off.

When you come, your whole body goes taut. Yoongi holds you tight in his hands, mouth moving against you messily as he licks you through your orgasm. You dissolve in his mouth, making him hum against your heat. You twist in the sheets, body twitching, muscles flexing. He avoids your clit, thrusting his tongue into your entrance until you’re gasping for air, hands pressing against his head to get him to stop.

Yoongi removes his mouth with one, lascivious lick. He sits backwards on his feet, panting as he looks at you melt into the bed. Your limbs are lifeless and tangled in the blankets, your hand over your eyes as you catch your breath. You look fucking beautiful.

“Come here,” you rasp, voice rough.

The bed creaks under Yoongi’s weight. He walks over on his knees, drinking you in. Your cum slicks your thighs, shining in the barest shaft of light escaping the bathroom from a nightlight. You turn to face him, face balmy with sweat. You reach up and work the zipper on his pants, making his stomach flip.

“You don’t-”

“Shut up,” you growl, tugging the metal down hard. He smirks as you press your fingers into his hard shaft through the cotton of his briefs. “Wanna feel your cock in my throat. Can you fuck my mouth?”

“Fuck yeah, Angel.”

Yoongi nearly falls getting out of his pants. You laugh, the sound so sweet that he feels himself blush. He’s hot all over, coming alive in the darkness of your room as he strokes his cock. You look innocent, splayed on the bed and blinking up at him.

Precum drips from his dark tip and you open your mouth, tongue catching it. He curses under his breath, entranced by the way your tongue disappears between your lips. You hum, a glint in your eye as you smirk at him.

“Vixen,” he says, shaking his head.

“Give it to me.”

One day he thinks he’s going to die of loving you. He knows that this is what it is. It’s more than you opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for him. It’s more than him letting you suckle on the tip of his cock playfully, his eyes fluttering shut and his thigh muscles twitching.

Yoongi loves you. It is an incredibly simple fact in his over-complicated world. Among all of the shit and the moves and countermoves he deals with every day, coming here to simply be in love with you is a relief. A home.

A shiver crawls up his back as he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth is wet and warm, your tongue rough on the sensitive underside of his shaft. He keeps one hand on the base of his cock and the other on your jaw, keeping your mouth open to make the slide easier.

Everything fades away again. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath as you open up for him. When he touches the back of your throat, he’s careful at first. He knows you can take it. You’ve taken so much more from him, gone so much harder. He doesn’t want to go hard tonight though. He feels soft at the edges, your taste lingering in his mouth.

The wet sound of your throat convulsing around him making him stroke faster. He knows you’re okay, breathing heavily through your nose as you gurgle around him, spit and precum slicking his shaft as he pulls in and out, marveling at the way you look at him, eyes watering.

Your eyes fix on him. Yoongi clenches his teeth, trying not to burst in your mouth. It’s hard when you look at him like that, gaze so dark and hungry and fathomless. You’ve never said you love him. You don’t have to. He knows. He knows in the same way he is aware you know he loves you. He knows enough to trust you with him. With everything.

There’s not a single doubt with you. It is a rare gift to share this open trust with someone, especially in his position. It is an added bonus that you know he loves it when you swallow around his cock as he presses into the back of your throat. The tight heat of your throat constricting around him does him in, and Yoongi comes with a growl.

You take it in stride, gulping. Taking it down. His eyes roll back in his head and he thinks that if he didn’t love you already, this alone would make him fall in love.

Pulling out his softening cock, he falls backward on the bed. He’s still in the top half of his clothes, but he is exhausted, lashes fluttering. Your hands are delicate as you begin to pull the jacket from his body. He rolls to the side and lets you, lost in the daze of a much needed orgasm. He feels at ease now, more than he has all day.

“Come on,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the spot under his ear. “Take a quick shower while I change the sheets, they’re sweaty. And I came on them.”

“I’d sleep in them anyway.”

“Hmm, too bad. Shower.”

“Meh.”

“Yoongi, you smell like a whore.” That makes him crack an eye and look at you. Your gaze is pointed. “And not like me. I don’t like it.”

“Huh. So you are jealous.”

“Get in the shower.” Your mouth twitches as you try to fight a smile. “Or else.”

Getting up before the sun is your favorite thing. Even now, when you’re tired from being woken up in the middle of the night, you make an effort to crawl out of bed to make coffee. Your steps are heavy and you shiver in the freezing air of the kitchen as you open a drawer and pull out a coffee pod. You hold it up close to make sure you’ve got Yoongi’s favorite brand before sticking it in the machine and popping the lid down, punching the button to brew.

Yoongi is a sleeping mound in your bed. Leaning against the counter, you admire him from afar. He’ll be up soon, your body clock tuned to the hours of his operation. It’s been that way for over a year now, your circadian rhythm trained to be the most functional during the hours in which Yoongi is awake.

When you were younger, you would have hated to admit that. Would have detested the thought of ever adjusting a single part of yourself for a man. Your entire job was to be moldable. To put on whatever face your client needed, to shape yourself into whatever person that you needed to be.

You have been so many things. A wife. A mistress. A temptress. A lost loved one. And darker things still, sliding on the skin of client’s fantasies over-and-over again until you lost the substance that made up whoever you were for hours at a time.

Back then, it would take hours and days to regain who you were. It wasn’t until you were more advanced that you were able to separate who you are from who you pretended to be. Now, it’s not necessarily. There is no other, no mask. Just you and Yoongi, the single client you decided was worth being moldable for.

The smell of coffee wakes him up before his alarm. You watch him sit up in bed, eyes not yet open. His hand spreads to where he expects to find you, only to discover open space. He swivels back and forth then, looking for you. Maybe a little panicked.

A pang aches your heart. It is so easy to forget that even after years of getting up before him first, Yoongi will never be trained out of the instinct that something of his has been taken. The day he doesn’t worry is the day he’ll lose everything and you know it.

“I’m over here,” you call gently. He relaxes and pulls himself together before getting out of bed and trudging out of the room.

Yoongi is pretty in the morning. His face is swollen with sleep, making him look so much younger. Like a dumpling, even. His mouth is fixed in a pout as he rubs at his eyes, steps uneven and dark hair sticking up all over the place. He looks at you, eyes glassy. The faded pink scar over his eye is less intimidating in the morning. You grin and open your arms. His reaction is automatic, sliding between them and sinking into your embrace, head thudding to your shoulder.

“Hi,” you purr, your hands squeezing around his middle. His shirt is soft in your fingers as you play with the hem. He grunts back, not much of a morning person. You don’t mind. Instead, you let him lay his weight on you, unwilling to move even as the coffee finishes brewing. He smells like sage shampoo and something more unique to him. “You okay, sleepyhead?”

“Mhmm.”

“Can’t talk yet?” he shakes his head against you and you laugh. “Come on, coffee.”

With Yoongi latched on to you, you walk over to the coffee maker. You giggle, elated as he clings to your front, letting you move him backwards. With his butt pressed against the counter and arms wrapped around you, you lean around him to grab the steaming mug and bring it in front of him.

Pouting, he drops his hands from you and takes it.

Years of mornings and carefully pulling back layers of Yoongi has earned this rare silliness between you. You’re acutely aware of the fact that the sleepy man in front of you, no matter how soft and blushing he is in the mornings, is a murderer. He’s extorted people, has threatened them, sits at the top of drug trade, and has pushed people into political office with dirty money and blood. Your eyes linger on his scar, a memento of his violent youth.

You don’t care. It doesn’t matter what Yoongi is and is not. All that matters to you is that he is Yoongi and that he is yours. At least, yours in the way it matters. You don’t dare ask him for more than what you have. It is the one thing you’re afraid of, because even though you know that he loves you, that you know he trusts you, asking for more is something you don’t want to do. Too many people want more of him. You just want whatever you can have.

As he sips his coffee, careful not to let it spill over and burn you while you bury yourself in snuggling him, you close your eyes. A couple of years ago, you didn’t think a life like this was possible. Getting in at the Red was the first step in the right direction. Though still for sex workers, it was an upper level platform in the industry you clawed your way to.

Both of you are similar in that regard. Yoongi started from nothing. A poor boy who dropped out of school to work a job and help pay rent at his apartment, too uneducated with not enough resources to make a dent in the world. It was the same story for you, though perhaps a little bloody around the edges, a hand that started selling you before you could make the choice yourself.

At the thought of your mother, you feel your jaw clench. The bite of the memory is only soothed by the knowledge of Yoongi putting her down himself. Perhaps it makes you a monster, but you’ve accepted that long ago you were what the world crafted you to be, and you wouldn’t apologize.

If you were Yoongi’s shield, he was your sword. You protected him from the weight of his atrocities, and he slayed your monsters.

It’s what drew Yoongi to you in the first place, the unapologetic approach to life. You appreciate it in him too. He doesn’t try to pretend that he is more or less than what he is, and you never try to hide the ugly parts of yourself.

And here he is anyway, coffee-warm lips pressed against your forehead. It almost makes you ask for more, but you don’t. This is enough for now.

The room at the Red isn’t where you live, but it’s yours in everything except lease. You long stopped using it for its intended purposes, now pleased to use it as a neutral ground to meet Yoongi and to stay where you know he is safe. His sprawling estate under guard and gun is surely safe enough, but you like having Yoongi where you can see him.

After a mostly innocent shower together, Yoongi gets dressed and kisses you goodbye after you walk him down. It’s still dark outside when you swipe your security key. He puts on his biker helmet and gives you a little salute before jogging down the alleyway, splashing into the morning and vanishing around a corner.

You linger for a moment, watching the empty space where he vanished. It would be nicer to be somewhere you didn’t have to escort him out. Somewhere you could be together all the time. You don’t think Yoongi would say no if you invited him over to your apartment, but you don’t have the security and the heavy protection that the Red offers.

Collecting your things, you scribble a note for the cleaner before heading out. You’ll only return to the room if Yoongi intends on swinging by again. Though it is more than a suitable place to spend all your time, you like your small apartment tucked downtown above a coffee shop. It has a hominess that feels more like you. That is a little less sterile.

Sun cracks over the city, spilling light like yolk over the buildings. You shield your eyes as you make your way down the sidewalk, shafts of light falling between buildings. The subway is full of people heading to work. Everyone shuffles without speaking, some buttoning collars of uniforms while others close their eyes in seats, headphones snug over their head.

The lull of the train as it starts makes you drowsy, but you fight to stay awake. Now that you don’t spend hours sleeping in and recovering from servicing clients late into the night, you value your mornings. Want to be the kind of person whose business hours are during the day, to feel the sun on your skin.

At your stop, you disappear in the flow of people going up the steps. The concrete above is still wet from the rain the night before, your steps tapping wetly as you go. It’s still summer, but the wind in the shade is cool as you enter the parking garage of your building, heading toward the elevator.

It’s mostly empty, people having left for work already. There’s a single black SUV by the elevator that you don’t recognize, the windows too dark to see inside. As you approach the car, you realize that it’s on, idling quietly.

Years of living in the wrong part of town have you slowing your steps. Your eyes flicker to the plate to see a metal shield over it, hiding the numbers on the vehicle. The back of your neck tingles. You come to a full stop, staring at the running vehicle. No one makes a move to get out and there’s no indication that someone is inside.

While you don’t live in the luxurious part of town, your neighborhood is relatively safe. It’s not without instances, but you live deep into Yoongi’s territory, his foothold on this block strong. You’ve never had to worry about walking down the road by yourself at night or making it to your apartment when drunk.

Now, you’re worried. Instinct needles you sharply. There is no reason to think the SUV means you any harm, but something is screaming at you to walk away.

Then the elevator opens and a normal looking man and woman exit. They don’t pay you any mind as they get into the vehicle, shutting the back door. Your nerves ease and you laugh at yourself for being so ridiculous. There’s no reason for anyone to be doing something nefarious this early in the morning.

Shaking yourself out of it, you walk the rest of the way to the elevator. As you reach your hand to press the button to call the elevator car, you hear the sound of the car doors opening. You whip your head to look over your shoulder as men get out of the passenger seat and the back seat.

Instinct kicks in. You turn and run, screaming shrilly for anyone that can hear you. They take off after you, steps thundering against the pavement as the SUV squeals its tires to back out of the spot and peel after you. There’s nowhere to go but out into the street. You head for the sidewalk only to be snatched from behind and lifted off your feet.

You react immediately. You throw your elbow back, connecting to one of the men’s faces. He screams and you hear bones crunch. He drops you but your knees buckle, a mix of fear and lack of coordination making you fall to the ground. The other man is on top of you, pressing you into the ground as you scream savagely, kicking your limbs to wiggle out of his grip.

He grabs your hair and pulls. You yell out, eyes smarting from the sting in your scalp as he then shoves your face into the ground. It hurts. Pain blooms in the side of your face. You’re aware of tiny pieces of gravel digging into soft skin, cutting up your face. The sting is small in comparison to the throb that pulses through your cheekbone as he grinds your face into the pavement.

Screams echo in the garage as you’re yanked backwards. There are several hands on you, grip like iron. You snarl and yank your limbs to no avail. Just as you’re pulled into the interior of the car, a piece of cloth is slapped hard against your face. You gasp in surprise, a pungent smell filling your nose before you feel a swift fog take over, your mind fading until there is nothing left.

Pain. It’s the first thing you feel when you come to. It’s a slow sort of drift toward awareness, like sluggishly swimming to the surface of a deep lake. You manage to drag yourself there, but immediately want to sink back into the nothingness again once you feel how much you hurt.

Your face perhaps hurts the most. Not only does your skin burn, but it feels like you’ve been rocked with a cinderblock on the left side of your face. You dully recall having your head pressed into the concrete with near bone-breaking force. It explains why when you open your eyes, the left feels a little swollen.

The room you’re in is empty. Your shoulder muscles are on fire, hands tied behind your back in the chair you’re sitting in. It’s hard to pinpoint what hurts worse, body littered with bruises and injuries. Still, you’re alive and that has to count for something.

A man leans against the wall across from you. He watches you curiously. When you become aware of him, you straighten a little in the seat. Your ass tingles with the numbness of sitting there for who knows how long, and your biceps strain with the movement, making you hiss.

“I’d like to untie you,” the man offers. “But I need a guarantee that you’ll behave.”

You want out of the ropes, so you nod your head. He nods once and pushes off the wall, walking over to you. You use the nearness of his proximity to gather as many details as you can: Patek watch, a basic model. He smells like mandarin and something spicy like pepper - maybe an Arabian fragrance. The suit he’s in is well-tailored and when he pulls a knife out of his pocket to cut the ropes around your wrist, you see a mother-of-pearl handle.

Money. This man has money.

Relief makes you sigh, melting into the chair when the pressure in your shoulder blades releases. You immediately lift your hands and place them into your lap, rubbing your trembling fingers across your palms, pressing firmly to encourage blood flow. Your handles tingle as the circulation begins to return to normal, though you can’t make a fist or move all of your appendages immediately.

The man backs away and leans against the wall once more. He’s incredibly handsome, the kind of guy who might be an actor or in the movie industry, perhaps. You continue to assess him, placing him a few years older than yourself. His hands are linked in front of him. No marriage ring, no tan to indicate there was once a band there either.

The expensive cologne matched with the watch leads you to believe someone else picked them out, which leaves you with two options: a lover or a sales associate. Judging the make of the watch, you know it doesn’t look like a limited edition series, so not a very personal gift, if a gift at all. And while the cologne smells expensive, it’s too spicy for a day scent, indicating that he doesn’t have someone to tell him the difference between night and daytime colognes.

If you have to guess, they’re things he’s purchased himself on the advice of a sales associate or because of the amount of numbers on the price tag. It’s a habit that comes with new money.

“I apologize for the roughness,” he offers. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”

“Intent matters little. Results matter a lot.”

“Well said.”

Feeling starts to come back to your hands as you flex them. You’re in some sort of construction building. It looks like maybe an apartment building in the making, with plastic tarps covering the windows and metal scaffolding exposing unfinished concrete. Outside, you think you faintly hear the sound of docks and workers.

“Do you know where we are?”

You look him up and down. “We’re in a building. You’re against a wall, and I’m in a chair.”

He scoffs. “Smart mouth.”

“You asked a question.”

“So I did. We’re in a building that was supposed to be my next venture. Someone, however, got in the way and created a bunch of red tape with the city. Now my funding has been slashed and this building has been sitting unfinished for a year, draining me of my property taxes.”

“Well,” you deadpan. “I’m a whore, not a lender. I can’t get you a loan.”

He grins, but you can’t tell if he’s amused. “You’re not just any whore though, are you? I have on good authority you service high profile clients. One of your clients is the reason this building is stuck in paperwork, and now he wants to take even more from me. I can’t let that happen.”

Yoongi. He’s talking about Yoongi and you know it. You try not to squirm in your seat, meeting his dark eyes head on. Your mind is trying to make decisions and keep up as much as possible, funneling through the list of names Yoongi has mentioned, anything at all that can give you a leg up.

“High profile clients are where the money is,” you admit. You think perhaps this man is Kwan Daehyun, whom Yoongi has been playing chess with for the better part of a year. “I don’t like to sell information on my clients, but I suppose you know that since you kidnapped me.”

“Consider the sales price on this particular client’s information to be your life. I just need a little bit of information, and you’re free.”

You shrug. “You’ve got me there. What do you want to know?”

“Min Yoongi.” You continue to stare at him, giving away nothing. Your heart is racing in your chest and you try to keep your hands from shaking. When you continue not to answer, he clicks his tongue, annoyed. “What can you tell me about his weaknesses?”

You can’t help it, you laugh. Kwan frowns as you giggle. It hurts to laugh, face bursting with pain as you catch your breath and shake your head. “What a cheesy fucking questions. What, you think I just have a list of things that can hurt Min Yoongi?”

“I know how pillow talk goes. He must talk about his stress. Brag about his assets. What else do men go to whores for?”

“To get their cock sucked, usually.”

Kwan pushes off the wall and storms toward you. You sneer up at him, a little less afraid of him now. He appears small and gutless to you, kidnapping a sex worker to ask for pillow talk secrets to gain a fucking advantage. It means he has nothing on Yoongi and has resorted to pisspoor tactics to get anything usable against Yoongi.

Though how he managed to get to you is unsettling. You’re unsure how he made the connection, or how long he has been watching Yoongi. You find that to be the most irritating, to know that Yoongi has been under surveillance for any period of time. Not that you’ve been smacked around and put in an abandoned building on threat of murder.

“I will fucking kill you.”

There is truth in his words. Questioning you is a desperate attempt, but perhaps not his only. It occurs to you that he doesn’t thin you hold any value beyond questioning you, and though he’s said he’ll spare you life, you don’t think that’s true. He only sees you as a vacuum for information, and if you don’t have it or you give it to him, he’ll kill you.

You need to be valuable. And fast.

“Kill me and you ruin any chance of that deal with him.” Kwan hesitates, eyes darkening as the words spill out of your mouth, “In fact, that was probably already off the table as soon as you had me physically harmed and dragged into a car here. So now, you should stop asking me about what Yoongi’s weaknesses are and start asking, what will Min Yoongi do if you call him and tell him who you kidnapped and tied to a fucking chair.”

Kwan narrows his eyes. You see him assessing the weight of your words. You fight the urge to leap at him and reach for the folding knife in his pocket. Just because you can’t see a gun doesn’t mean there’s not one, and just because you can’t see or hear anyone else in the building doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Outside you can hear the cry of a seagull. When you breathe in, you smell ocean water and salt. Definitely keeping you in a building by the docks. You think you know the one. Kwan takes a few steps back from you and crosses his arms over his chest.

“You think he gives a shit if I have you?”

“You asked for Yoongi’s weakness. You’re looking at it.”

“I think you’re bullshiting me. I think you’re a whore he won’t deal for.”

“One way to find out, right?”

Instead of answering, Kwan turns on his heel and walks towards the opaque tarp. He walks through it and two men replace him at the entrance. Both of them are armed, staring down at you. Ignoring them, you roll your neck in slow circles, trying to ease the soreness.

Tentatively, you reach a hand up to your face, pressing your fingers into your cheek. You hiss, the pain still raw and present underneath your fingers. You can feel small scabs from where the gravel broke skin, but thankfully it doesn’t feel like your eyes are too swollen.

Time passes. You remain in the chair, fidgeting now that you’re awake. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth and your lips begin to burn from wetting them constantly, only to be dried out by the salty air. You feel itchy and irritable, trying not to squirm too much in the chair lest you disturb the guards.

Most of all, without having to put on a brave performance, you feel afraid. Afraid of being here by yourself in this warehouse, afraid that you’ve made a mistake trying to make yourself valuable, afraid that Kwan isn’t going to give you a chance to talk to Yoongi as proof of life.

You’re not versed in this part of Yoongi’s life. So much of his business has been held separate from you. The violence and the extortion and the sketchy deals have always been something he did outside of that room at the Red. You’re not afraid of this life, though. Just unprepared and trying to guess what to do next, fueled by poorly written crime movies and stories that Yoongi has told you in the warmth of your bed.

It feels like hours have gone by when Kwan comes back into the room. You sit up straight when you see the phone in his hand and see the fire in his eyes. He looks like a man who has had something go right - which means you have him right where you want him, if he’s doing what you think he is.

Kwan holds out the phone to you. “You have five minutes to talk to him as an act of good faith on my proposal.”

You see Yoongi’s name on the caller idea and try not to start crying. Swallowing thickly, you lick your lips again and bring the phone up to your ear. The tremble in your hand and your voice isn’t a performance when you say, “Hello?”

“Where are you? He hasn’t told me.”

“Yeah, I’m alive.” You sniff a little. “Agh, don’t make me cry. My face will get saltier than it already is.”

“I need more than that, Angel. He’s trying to make deals with me, but I need to know where you are to come get you. He won’t tell me where you’re at unless I wire over money and legally sign over assets.”

“No, he hasn’t hurt me. He’s been polite, though I’ve been kind of a beach- bitch. I’ve been a bitch. Sorry, I’m very tired.”

“Is it the building in the warehouse district at the docks? That apartment shell?”

“Yes, I can do that. Just… please agree to whatever he says, I feel tired and loaded. Bloated. Sorry, I’m confusing words again.”

“Yeah, well I’ve got fucking guns too. We’re going to come get you okay?”

This time when you sniff, you feel actual tears. Of relief that he understands your weird turns of phrase, of the terror at knowing he’s going to have to come get you. To risk his life for you. You knew he would, and yet you almost hate to ask him.

“Thank you.”

“You’ll be okay, Angel, but I need you to listen.”

“Okay.”

His voice is firm as he says, “I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. Don’t think twice about it. It is you or them, do you understand me? There is almost a certainty you are going to have to kill someone when we come get you. Start thinking about it now. Try to get used to it so that when the time comes, you’re not afraid anymore.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“See you soon.”

Yoongi likes to think that he is an expert in control. His compartmentalization is unmatched, and though he is incredibly proud, his pride is not easily wounded. Foolish slights and insults don’t rile him the way they might have in his youth, and physical threats of harm are amusing, especially when no very few people carry through on their threat.

When Yoongi hangs up the phone, he loses every ounce of control he’s ever felt. Never has his urge to destroy been so sharp. He sees red, slamming his hands across his desk and swiping everything off. He tastes metal in his mouth as he bites through his cheek, screaming as he hammers his fists on top of the desk hard enough that he thinks he might split the wood.

Hoseok and Seokjin hear the commotion, crashing into the office with Namjoon and Jungkook behind them, weapons drawn. Yoongi is shaking when he looks up at them, the phone screen cracked in his hand. He cannot stop shaking, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like a dose of heroin.

All of their voices sound like a mess of sounds. The ringing in his ears overpowers everything they’re saying as he stands there, hands at his side, mind racing and chest heaving as he pants. Why is he panting? Yoongi feels like he’s suddenly not getting enough air, dropping his phone to loosen the tie around his neck, trying to give himself more room to breathe. Why do his clothes feel so fucking tight?

Suddenly it’s like there isn’t enough air in the room. Yoongi feels the tunnel vision come up on him fast. Chills spread through his body as he wavers, hands held out as he tries to catch his breath. He feels hands on him trying to steady him, but he yanks away from them. They feel too close, too much in his space and he needs more room. Room to get this blazer off and breathe. Breathe, why can’t he breathe?

Yoongi stumbles into a wall. His vision pulses on the edges and he can vaguely make out Hoseok’s voice. He looks up at him and sees his friend, his advisor. Hoseok isn’t touching him, but his head is cocked as he tries to keep and maintain eye contact with Yoongi.

“Inhale for seven seconds,” Hoseok says. “Then exhale for seven. I’ll count.”

“What?” Yoongi demands.

“You’re having an anxiety attack.” Hoseok states it as if it’s the most common thing in the world. “You have to regulate your breathing or you’re going to pass out. If you pass out, we can’t help.”

It’s the only thing that gets him to listen. He counts with Hoseok, drawing in long breaths.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

Yoongi has to shake this. Has to get ready and call his people, needs to make plans to come get you. He knows exactly where you are - wants to fucking kiss you for how clever you mange to be even while terrified.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

He knows you’re afraid. Yoongi has never heard your voice tremble like that since he’s known you. He knows every tone of your voice, every color to the spectrum of your sounds, able to pick them apart to know how you feel. And while you spoke in a clear tone, it was all wrong. Colored with terror. Voice soft and rough and wavering.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

The ringing in his ears fade. Yoongi continues to take slow, deep breaths. His hands are still shaking and he feels a little light headed, but when he blinks a few times and looks around, he sees his closest men and confidants standing around him, waiting.

“Talk to us,” Hoseok urges. “What’s going on?”

“Kwan has my girl. They’re in that apartment project we froze in the docks.”

“He told you where they were?”

“No, she did.”

Hoseok looks weary. “That sounds like a trap - did he already offer you a deal?”

“He said several things. He didn’t tell me where they were, she did.”

“In front of-”

“Hoseok, stop asking stupid questions or I swear to fucking god I’ll hit you first. She’s not used to any of this, but she isn’t fucking stupid. She used the words salt, beach and loaded. They’re in that building and they’re armed.”

“Poetic,” Seokjin grunts. Yoongi cuts his gaze to his head of security and the man pales. “Sorry, bad timing.”

“Get every fucking person we know on the fucking ground and here. We’re going to get her.”

“They’ll see us coming from a mile away.”

Yoongi stares at Seokjin. “I don’t give a fuck. Kwan wanted to find a weakness, well he found one. And now I’m going to paint that shitty little development with his blood.”

An hour later is when it hits Yoongi. He stops in the middle of tying a shoe and he stands. He’s replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, looking for any other details he could have missed. He was so fucking proud of you for getting your point across even while scared, but now it’s something else he thinks of.

I love you. He had almost not realized you said it at all at the end of the call. He can’t remember if he said it back, but he’s suddenly sick over the what if of it all. What if he doesn’t get to say it back? What if he gets there and swarms in, only to find you dead?

In a moment of panic, he texts Hoseok to request proof of life on the hour every hour from Kwan under the guise of considering his horrendous deal. Kwan, of course, thinks he’s got Yoongi. He doesn’t, naturally. They haven’t agreed on a time or place to meet, and Kwan does not seem to understand just how poorly he’s miscalculated.

None of it matters. All that matters is that Yoongi is going to come get you like he promised, and he is never letting you out of his sight again.

Surprisingly, your living conditions change a little upon Kwan learning that you’re more valuable kept alive and in decent condition than beat up or dead. He has a cot and a fan brought in, along with an ice back for your cheek and a thermos of water.

You crush the thermos almost immediately. Though you’re kept under armed guards now, you’re relieved to be able to lay down and stretch your sore limbs. When the ice pack finally grows hot and melts on your aching cheekbone, one of the guards gets you a new one without question.

It almost makes you feel bad for what is to come. Almost.

You know Yoongi. It’s why you gambled with a hostage play in the first place. He won’t let them have you and it doesn’t matter what Kwan offers him, Yoongi is far too powerful to accept deals from the likes of Kwan. It isn’t so much a matter of pride as it is a matter of power. You know Yoongi has the power to pull you out of this without further harm.

At least, you have put every ounce of trust and confidence in him that you have.

Time moves slowly. It’s hard to know how fast Yoongi will mobilize or what his plan is. It would make sense for him to perhaps cause a distraction elsewhere to get Kwan’s eyes off of you, but it’s also a dangerous game to play with a hostage.

It doesn’t matter. Yoongi has his job and you have yours, which is to work the screw out of one of the cots joints. You’ve picked one that isn’t imperative to the overall structure of the cot. It can bear your weight without the screw as long as you don’t lean on the joint too much. It takes you a while to unscrew it with your bare fingers, all while lying on your back trying to look uninterested in anything.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

Finally, you pull the cool metal free. You slide it into the pocket of your sweatpants. The weight of it feels better than nothing. It won’t do much damage, but a well placed punch to the face with the screw between your knuckles will do what you need, even if you damage your hand to do it.

You’ve never killed someone. Thought about it a few times, maybe. Had some people try to sway you to slip something into a client’s drink, but you never accepted. Killing isn’t your business. It’s Yoongi’s, but you know that if he’s telling you to take the chance, it’s because he wants you to live.

The thought is chilling. You rest your hand on the pocket, feeling the shape of the screw. You don’t know how to kill. You’re not even entirely sure that you have it in you. You’ve seen people die and you’ve seen people murder. It seems easy.

You’re not sure if it’s that simple.

It’s late into the night when a commotion draws you from your half-slumber. You lift your head as someone comes in and mutters something to the guards. They nod and one of them leaves, the other turning to face you with a glare, hand resting just inside his jacket where you assume there’s a gun.

Outside, you hear the sound of peeling tires as a car takes off.

Nerves take over. You feel your heartbeat pickup as you continue to lay on the cot, one hand under your pillow. It’s hard to think of what might be happening over the sound of your own pulse, but you try to regulate your breathing. There’s nothing happening right that second that you can control, so there’s no reason to panic.

A few minutes go by. It’s agony, waiting with bated breath. It’s quiet outside except for the sounds of the ocean and the mostly empty warehouses and docks. Plastic snaps in the breeze, loud in the silence of your waiting. You think that this is the worst part, the anticipation for what’s to come. You can’t sleep now even if you tried.

When the first round of gunfire comes, you almost lose control of your bowels. It’s a shameful sort of fear that takes you by surprise, making you freeze up. You have been waiting for it, and yet now that you can hear the sound of automatic weapons somewhere below, it feels worse than you imagined.

Looking up at the guard at the door, you reel in surprise to see him rushing toward you. Time seems to slow down. The sound of guns and yelling fade to the background everything suddenly becomes hyper focused.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

As the guard leans to pick you up, you strike like a snake, pulling the screw from your pocket and jabbing upward with a savage scream.

His guttural cry splits the night. You feel hot blood spray your hand and dot your face as you plunge the blunt screw into his eye socket. Blood makes your fingers slippery and as he falls onto his back, hands clutching his face, you lose your grip.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

No hesitation. You dive for him, stained hands searching for the weapon. The metal of the gun slides in your slick fingers. Through the blinding pain, the guard realizes what you’re doing and grabs your forearms. You pull back against him but can’t shake his grip, your hand stuck in his jacket on the gun. You finger the trigger and squeeze, but it doesn’t budge. The fucking safety.

Sliding a knee down, you crush the cap of your knee between his legs, pressing his balls with your full weight. He screams and his grip goes slack. You yank on the gun, almost dropping it as it slides free from the holster. Your grip is clumsy and shaking, your heart pounding so hard you think you might die of fright before you manage to find the safety on the hammer and pull it back.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

Click. Squeeze. Bang.

You don’t aim. Don’t have the sense to at that moment. This close, you don’t have to aim at all. You hit your target and his yelling turns to shrieks. You can’t tell where you’ve shot him, all you know is that you have. You scramble away, hands slipping on the floor, gun clutched clumsily in your hand.

A hand goes around your ankle and you scream as he drags you backward. You roll onto your back, bringing the gun up again, trying to aim in the general direction of his chest.

Squeeze. Bang.

It’s so loud. Your ears are ringing and you’re unable to hear anything as the grip on your ankle immediately goes slack. The guard goes limp, the fight leaving him immediately. You don’t look - can’t look. Can’t focus on anything but the way your vision tunnels.

Dizziness sweeps over you as you crawl away from him again. Your knees and palms might hurt if you could feel anything at all, but numbness starts to take over as you manage to press yourself against a wall near the doorway. You don’t dare move toward it, too untrained to handle a gun while terrified.

“Angel!” you hear Yoongi’s voice screaming somewhere in the building. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Your lips tremble. You try to find your voice, willing the words to come. Mouth open, his name on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find a response. “Angel, come on, baby! Where are you?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper. It’s not nearly loud enough and your voice cracks on the name. You close your eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath as you muster strength behind your voice. “Yoongi!”

“That’s it, keep talking to me.”

It sounds like he is yelling somewhere down a stairwell, voice echoing up concrete walls. “Up!” You start to curl into yourself. “Yoongi, up!”

Steps thunder in the stairwell. You drop the gun next to you and look at your hands. They’re slick and wet. In a panic, you start wiping them on your sweatpants, smearing red as you do. You viciously wipe your hands. You want the blood off, you don’t want it all over you, it’s hot and stick and it’s not yours and it belongs to the dead man who was trying to take you-

Warm hands grab your face and tilt you upward. You blink through blurry tears. Yoongi looks back at you, his forehead sweaty and his slicked back hair a little messy. He turns your face from side to side as more of his men flood into the room, guns raised.

Yoongi’s mouth moves but you can’t hear him. You shake your head, looking up at him. His grip softens and the gentle brush of his thumb back and forth across your face eases the rising panic inside of you. You sniff, taking a few slow, trembling breaths.

“Are you seriously injured?” Yoongi asks again, voice rough. Cracking. “Do you need medical attention?”

“No.”

“The blood-” You shake your head violently, closing your eyes. “Okay. It’s okay. You did what you needed to do, Angel. I’m going to get you on your feet and take you home, okay?”

“I don’t-”

“My home. Not yours. You’re coming home.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to explain what he means. As he slowly pulls you to your feet, you know what he’s telling you. You’re going to his estate, because it’s yours too now. The agreement is unspoken but mutual. You don’t want to go back to your apartment. You don’t want to go back to the Red. Right now, all you want is to wash the blood from your hands and get away from this place.

Seokjin is at the door with a blanket. He wraps it around you as Yoongi keeps his hands around your waist, steadying you as you walk. You get down two levels of stairs before he tucks you into him and presses his lips against your temple.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, mouth moving against your skin. “I won’t let you trip.”

You do as you’re told. His steps are confident and careful as he leads you through the bottom floor. You hear the murmur of voices, the flapping of plastic tarp, and the humming engines of vehicles. Yoongi lifts you lightly and helps you get into the cool interior of a car that smells like leather.

When the door shuts, you flinch and open your eyes, staring straight forward. Yoongi is next to you, arm going around your shoulders as he pulls you into his side again. You realize for the first time as you glance at him that there’s blood on his face and in his hair. His knee bounces up and down, his hand resting against it, still gripping a gun with the safety off.

“Are we safe?” you whisper, staring at his gun.

“Yes.”

“Then why-”

“It makes me feel better,” he admits. “I just need to come down.”

“Okay.”

“Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are dark and though his mouth is pinched at the corners and the vein throbs in his forehead, his eyes are soft for you. “I love you,” he murmurs. “We’re safe.”

A week makes the pain in your cheekbone fade away. A week does not make the memory of squeezing the trigger fade. At night, the memory is worse. What your mind had been unable to remember at first comes back in full-clarity at night, gripping you in your sleep and dragging you down into an endless terror until Yoongi pries you from the clutches of your nightmares and wakes you.

It’s easier with him by your side, though. You’re at least able to fall asleep, if not stay asleep through the night. When he wakes you from screaming and thrashing in the sheets, you’re able to settle against him, his hold on you firm. Comforting.

Yoongi takes this in stride. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t lose his patience. He simply murmurs that he gets it and holds you, his skin warm and smelling like home.

Home.

The estate is a sprawling mass of elegance that stuns you each day. Beyond the opulence of the home and the luxury that it offers, what matters most is the security. The personnel at every entrance, the high gate with cameras and alarms, the three lurking dobermans that still terrify you when you see them standing in a dark hall at night or watching you in the kitchen when you get a glass of water after a nightmare.

Nox has come around to liking you, at least. She’s become your shadow in the house, which had made you a little unsure at first. Now, she trails you up the stairs and to the master bedroom. You’ve grown used to her - prefer it, even, when Yoongi is not home like right now.

Erebus and Khonsu are on the floor of the master bedroom. Both watch you as you enter, unbothered but aware. Where their younger sister has adopted you as an owner and a thing to protect, they still seem set on Yoongi only.

The three dogs remain in the bedroom as you end the bathroom. It makes you feel safe to know that even if someone managed to get through the gates, up the driveway, through the secured doors and the dozen people that Yoongi has stationed at the estate since your kidnapping, the dogs are another line of defense.

So is the gun under the bathroom cabinet and in the nightstand, but you don’t want to touch a gun ever again. Not if the nightmares it gives are like this.

Steam fills the room accompanied by the scent of eucalyptus. Carefully, you peel the clothes from your body and toss them into a corner. The stone shower is warm with heated floors and a digital panel both inside and outside for control of the fifteen different water settings. There’s even steam options, but you simply turn on the rain feature, slipping under the dripping ceiling.

The hot, wet taps of the water lull you into a trance. You stand with your head tilted down, letting the rivulets of water run the full length of your body.

“Angel, I’m home,” Yoongi calls from the bedroom. You smile, appreciating that he announces his presence instead of sneaking up on you. He’s always careful to make noise when he enters rooms now and announces his arrival. “You just get in?”

“Yeah,” you call back. “Join me?”

“Give me five.”

When he finally enters the bathroom, you turn around to look at him. He’s already pulling the tie around his neck loose, dropping it to the ground. You catch sight of the red across his knuckles. Though he is free of blood - an effort on his part now to bring it home to you - you notice the days where he comes home and his knuckles are split or bruised, hands aching.

Watching Yoongi undress captures your full attention. His movements are slow and methodical. His back is to you, shirt dripping off his broad shoulders to join the tie on the floor. He looks up in the mirror and pauses, dark eyes catching yours. You raise a brow and gesture for him to continue. When he does, it’s with his tongue poking his cheek and a smirk.

Knowing that you’re watching, Yoongi turns it into an art. His fingers trace the top of his slacks before he slowly undoes the belt, pulling it with a satisfying hiss through the loops before holding it out to the side and letting it clatter to the floor. Your eyes are zeroed in on his reflection in the mirror as he works the button open, peeling the top of his pants apart to reveal the logo of his briefs.

Yoongi pauses. Your eyes dart up to his in the mirror to find him watching you, eyes dark. The scar looks menacing today. You squeeze your thighs together, chewing on your bottom lip. He notices, smirk growing as he rolls the slacks down his thighs and kicks them aside. You see the imprint of his half-hard cock in his briefs, your attention on him alone enough to get his blood pumping.

You’ll never get over having that effect on him. Knowing that even after the nightmares and becoming an inconvenience - in your eyes, at least - the chemistry between you isn’t gone. It’s still there, a burning candle.

Slowly, Yoongi peels off his briefs. His heavy cock bobs as he steps out of them and you feel your pussy clench around nothing, just thinking about him stretching you open. He says nothing about the small bead of precum at the tip as he turns and walks over to the shower.

He’s built beautifully. Broad shoulders with a slim, tapered waist. Strong arms and large hands, firm chest and soft but muscular stomach. Yoongi is the perfect blend of pretty and rugged, a combination that you didn’t know existed until him.

When he steps into the shower, you step further into the water, making room for him. He shuts the door and frowns at the distance between you, holding out his hand. You take it immediately and he pulls you forward, careful not to let you slip on the tile.

He doesn’t waste a moment. Yoongi’s mouth captures yours, wet from the shower water as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly. You hum, bringing your arms to loop around his neck, fingers combing through his wet hair. His cock presses against your lower stomach, and you shiver.

Yoongi’s kisses are addicting. Slow, like he has all the time in the world, but hungry, like he can’t get enough. His tongue brushes the roof of your mouth, his teeth pulling at your lip again when he pulls his mouth away to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw.

Tilting your head back, you let him pepper kisses along your throat. You close your eyes, letting him hold you to him. The room tilts as you sway in his arms, the feeling of him licking the hollow of your throat entrancing. It’s so simple yet it feels so good.

One arm loops around your waist to keep you pressed to Yoongi, his other slides up your wet skin to cup your breast. You let out a breathy moan when you feel his thumb circle your stiff nipple, the stimulation so bare but so good.

Yoongi keeps you cradled against him, mouth working your neck and shoulder and back up to your mouth while his thumb lazily plays with your nipple. You're pliant in his arms, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

His mouth starts to descend and when he finally takes your nipple into his mouth, you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. He hums as he sucks gently, tongue flicking back and forth over the peak. You can’t help but twitch in his arms, a ripple of pleasure sliding through you.

Heat pulses between your legs and you feel the slick gathering in your folds. Your legs squeeze together again as Yoongi drags his teeth over your sensitive nipple before letting go and switching to the other. This time, he looks up at you through dark, wet lashes, sticking out his devilish tongue as he uses the tip to trace your skin.

“Show off,” you mutter, voice shaking.

He laughs and runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple before giving a sharp suck that has you arching into him. “You love having your tits in my mouth,” he shoots back. He bites the top of your breast softly, teeth scraping your soft skin. “Don’t deny it.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Hmmm.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he teases. The hand around your back slides down to your ass. He grabs a handful, squeezing generously. “Can you turn around for me? Legs spread so I can see that pretty pussy.”

“Fuck.”

He drops his arms so you can turn around. You press your palms against the wall, shivering as the cold tile leeches the warmth from you. The temperature difference makes the room tilt. You slide your legs apart and stick your ass out toward him, lifting a little.

“Fuck yeah.”

You can’t see him, but you feel him as he slides down to his knees. His palms grip your ass, spreading your cheeks open. You close your eyes and let your head hang between your arms when it feels too heavy to hold up yourself.

“Just want a quick taste,” Yoongi mutters.

“Shiiiit,” you hiss, feeling his tongue dance up and down your cunt. He licks you in broad, slow stripes before he puts his entire mouth on you and sucks sharply. “Just like that.”

“Fuck.” The smack of his lips against your wet heat are bracketed by the slick sound of him stroking his cock, the filthy sounds echoing in the shower. “I could eat you out every day.”

“You do.”

“Fine.” His tongue zigzags back and forth, reaching to swirl around your click. He kisses your cunt and stands up. “I’ll make it twice a day, then.”

The blunt head of his cock slides between your folds. You press back toward him, eager to have him push in and split you open. He tuts at you, giving you a gentle smack on your ass. “Eager.”

“I’ve been waiting all fucking day for it, Yoongi. Give it to me.”

“Mmm.”

The feeling of Yoongi sinking his cock into you slowly drives you mad. You feel like you can’t breathe, every inch of his thick length stretching your walls to the max. It feels like he’s in your guts when he bottoms out, the pressure immense and good and dizzying.

He starts slow, giving a few shallow thrusts as you adjust to be pried open. You relax around him, falling into the pleasure as he begins to fuck you in earnest. Hands on your waist, he pulls your ass backwards, meeting every one of his strokes in a loud, wet smack of hips on ass.

A shiver ripples down your spine and you moan when he adjusts the angle, prodding your g-spot. “Yeah?” he asks through gritted teeth. “That the spot?”

“Yes, please fuck me just like that.”

Nothing else exists beyond this. The steam makes your skin even hotter, cloying the air and making it hard to breathe. It makes everything fuzzy, like you’re drifting in and out of reality, pleasure unfolding in you as you squeeze around his cock.

Each snap of his hips is punctuated with stilted breath. You’re gasping, thighs burning as you take every inch of him, fingers curling against the wall, eyes rolling back as you fall into a mute space. You make sound but no words come out, the pressure against that spot inside of you driving you mad.

Yoongi slides a hand from your waist over the curve of your ass and between your cheeks, thumb pressing gently on the rim of your ass. You let out a loud moan, fingers trying to grab the wall to no avail. The new stimulation feels delicious, Yoongi’s thumb pressing against your asshole in time with his strokes. He doesn’t push past the ring of muscles, but it doesn’t matter - it’s enough to send you careening closer to your orgasm, toeing the line of insanity.

“Fuck, Angel,” he pants, fucking into you harder. “Just like that, make it fucking creamy. You gonna come?”

“Fuuuuck yeah.”

His thumb presses harder against your rim. “Come on, give it to me.”

“Shit shit shit shit.”

You lose the ability to say anything. Your body folds forward, only held up by Yoongi and the press of the freezing cold wall as he fucks you with precision. It sends you over the edge, your knees knocking as you come, fists pressing into the wall as you yell through it.

The sound of the shower is drowned out by your babbling. Yoongi thrusts hard a few more times, hand slipping away from your ass to grip your waist hard, chasing his high. He comes with a loud curse, fingers digging into your skin.

For a moment, he leans into you, pressing his cock as far in as he can go. Your pussy throbs around him, every pulse ebbing around him. He presses kisses up your spine, hands sliding up your ribs to pull you upright until your back is against his chest.

“Fuck,” he pants, voice rough. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“I’ve always been yours.”

“I mean entirely. Without sharing.”

You pause, looking up at him with a frown. “You know I haven’t been… taking clients for two years, right?”

He pauses. “What?”

“You stupid boy,” you laugh, laying your head against his shoulder. “Of course I wasn’t. I just wanted you.”

“Then why stay there?”

You shrug a shoulder, letting your eyes fall closed. The warmth of the orgasm blooms through you, Yoongi’s skin hot against your back and the shower hotter still. “It was a place I knew you’d be safe when you visited. And I didn’t want to ask you for more. Everyone always wants more from you. I just wanted you.”

“All that time, I could have just… asked you to come home?”

“Yes. But it’s okay. I’m home now.”

He kisses your neck. “You are home, Angel.”

#yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #suga fic #suga fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #mafia yoongi #mafia bts #minors dni #minors do not interact #halis happy agust

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trivia-yandere · 8 months

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request for yandere!ex-husband jk trying to prevent oc from divorcing him 💀😭 (only because they got a child together and he loves her more than anything but she just can’t take him anymore)

hello! yes we can :) this one might take a little turn but this is a yandere account so

nefarious

You knew who Jungkook was prior to having his children and marrying him, so you serving him with divorce papers wasn't going to do anything but anger him.

@momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree

word count: 4.442

warning: yandere themes/tendancies, non-consenual touching/rape, smut, cursing, dark theme, spitting, degradation, possessiveness, fingering, dirty talking, emotional/mental manipulation, biting, restraining, crying, slapping,

“Get it out of my sight.” Jungkook tosses the paper away aggressively with a roll of his eyes. One of his men - Sung-ho, stands straighter to appear obedient. “That bitch thinks she’s going to divorce me after I made her?” Jungkook leans back into his chair with a huff. He shakes his head. “After I got her out of the slums she was living in?”

Jungkook’s eyes glance at the picture onto his desk - one of you and him on your wedding day. He grasps it and hurls it at Sung-ho who barely manages to dodge the attack. “You find that bitch and bring her back to me!” he screeches, eyes wide with rage. Sung-ho truly had no reason to be a part of Jungkook’s rage and he would make sure to apologize about it another time.

It’s been three months.

Three months since Jungkook has allowed you your little vacation away from him. And now you dare serve him with divorce papers that claimed that you wanted full custody of his daughters - you were insane. You had no job and had not worked in the last five years you and he had been married. You swiped his card without a care in the world and wasted close to millions since then - as a man and your husband, he never bat an eye.

But to think that you were willing to divorce him because - by your words - Jungkook was not the man he claimed to be was preposterous. You knew the type of man he was - the same man who you kept returning to every night to wet his cock and warm his bed. The same man who gave you lavish gifts every week and the same man who managed to not only marry you, but grace you with two of his offspring.

So what if he orchestrated a few murders every now and then? Or stole money and expensive pieces during heists? Sold a few (thousands) pounds of unthinkable drugs? You lived in a mansion, his daughters and you wanted for nothing - isn't that what a man was supposed to do? Ensure his family was alright? Why the fuck did it matter what he did as long as you and his girls were safe?

Jungkook knew you had no problem with what he did for work. Your problem was that you clearly missed him - he had to be gone the majority of the time and that left you in such a large mansion to care for the children alone. But a divorce? Wasn’t that a little excessive? No, this was nothing but a little stunt to get his attention and clearly, now you had it.

Sure Jungkook and you didn’t meet on simpler terms - normal people met at coffee shops. Maybe out grocery shopping. Hell, social media and dating sites were normal now.

No, Jungkook and you met during one of many (unbeknownst to you) bank heists he had gone on. You recall the day had been fairly slow, only a few people coming in every hour. You had been assisting an older man when the doors slammed open and a group of men entered.

The men wore all black and wore masks that covered their entire head. They pointed guns at everyone, telling them to get down. You - of course it had to be you - were escorted to the back. To think that this wasn’t even your shift initially and you picked it up from a fellow co-worker.

But again, you weren’t as normal either. Jungkook noticed how you appeared to not take anything serious. He pointed his gun at you and though he would never use it - hurting women and children was not his forte - you didn’t know this.

Jungkook knew you were different when you flirted with him as you opened the safe. If this was your way to assure your safety, then it was a weird way to go.

“Do you do this often?” you speak as Jungkook fills the bags with stacks upon stacks of cash. “I always wondered what robbing a bank would be like.”

You. You were a weird one. But Jungkook liked it.

“I saw something like this in a porno once.”

Jungkook halts in his tracks, unable to control his thoughts. He turns towards you, eye sockets - dark and nearly invisible to you, stare at your grinning figure.

“The robbers break in and find a defenseless woman…” you lean back onto the wall, tilting your head. “...take advantage of her. But deep down, we both know she wanted it.”

Jungkook was ashamed of himself for allowing himself to be consumed by you. You had all the control that day and you knew it. You enticed him so much that he was able to forget about the heist all together and that’s when he found himself inside of you - ravishing you against the very wall you leaned against.

What could Jungkook say? He was a man and you were a willing participant. You begged him for more, edged him on as he fucks you. You liked the way he was treating you - hands clenching your neck, the manhandling. You started this, all Jungkook did was follow your lead.

“I could say you raped me.”

There it was - the kicker.

You could say that indeed. You had managed to not only get Jungkook off of his game to fuck you - but to do so without a condom. Jungkook had been so excited by you that he came the hardest he has in months - right inside of you. His cum drips out of your pussy and down your thighs, you not even bothering to wipe it up.

“Say that you took advantage of me and when they do a rape kit…” you shrug.

Jungkook points his gun at your head, but both of you knew that he wasn’t going to pull any triggers. You sensed no threat when it came from this man - Jungkook is who he would soon introduce himself as.

“What do you want?” This is the first time you have heard Jungkook’s voice. He was young, you note, his cock and stamina confirming it. Possibly around the same age as you.

“Money.” you shrug your shoulders. “But I can’t take it now.” you laugh. “I guess that means I’ll have to see you again, huh?”

Jungkook swallows. He’s thankful the mask remained on his face and you didn’t see his red cheeks and shocked expression.

“How about I give you my number and you can call me later?” you offer.

“I could kill you later.” Jungkook retorts.

“You can kill me now.” you fire back. “Your friends can kill the entire bank and get away with it. Burn it down and get rid of any evidence you have left inside of me.”

Jungkook swallows.

“But you know that. You’re a smart boy.” There you were flirting with him again. “If you wanted to hurt me, you would have. Truth is, I could care less about this job and my life is quite boring. All I want is a little company. Who better than a random thief with obviously nothing else better to do?”

Jungkook found that from right there he was fucked and you were truly a vixen - an agent of chaos sent from Hell (Heaven would never allow something like you) to torment him. But he was rather intrigued for the first time in who knows how long.

“What’s your name?” Jungkook asked.

“Y/N.”

Jungkook lowers his gun. “Jungkook.”

You chugged the champagne down in nearly one gulp and slammed the glass onto your vanity. Your eyes dart to your reflection in the mirror and you scoff. You should have known Jungkook wasn’t going to let you go without a fight.

You recall the way all hell had broke loose when Jungkook had found you. Your daughters were at school luckily and didn’t have to see their father’s demeanor change. He told you it wasn’t hard finding your hotel room and slamming the door open. You had been dozing off when he entered and Jungkook was anything but content.

“I allowed this little break to go on long enough, Y/N.” Jungkook was aggressively grabbing your belongings, hauling them onto the bed. “Pack your shit.”

“No.” you hissed.

“No?” Jungkook scoffs. “You think you’re going to divorce me and take my daughters?” Jungkook wants to laugh at how stupid you sounded. “With no job?”

“I’ve been saving money.” you retort, eyes glaring at him.

“Oh,” Jungkook snickers with a clap of his hands. “So you’ve been planning on leaving me for a while. What’s changed?”

Jungkook came closer to you. He looked manic, eyes wide and glaring into your soul.

“You even threatened to expose me if I didn’t give you a divorce.” Jungkook is livid. “Take down all of my legitimate businesses just to divorce me? You think you’ll get away with that, baby?”

Jungkook was never one to be rough with you, but he’s pissed. He pushes you onto the bed and hovers about you. “You don’t think you’ll go down with me? You tell them what I do on the side, I’ll tell them you were alongside me the entire way. We’ll both go to jail and our daughters…” Jungkook shrugs. “They’ll go to my brother.”

Your eyes widen at Jungkook’s words. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Take me down, Y/N. You’re going with me.” Jungkook pushed himself away from you. “Pack your shit and let's go home.” he hissed, not waiting for a response from you.

And now here you sat in said home. You were fresh from a long shower, having ignored Jungkook the following days and only tended to your daughter's needs.

You were feeling bitchy today, however, and decided that if Jungkook didn’t want to give you a divorce - that you were going to force him to. That, or annoy him until you felt as though you were done.

You continued to lotion your skin until it glowed, then you grabbed the perfume bottle - one of the many expensive gifts from Jungkook - and sprayed it until you knew it would linger. You take one last look in the mirror before smiling to yourself.

“We haven’t done a bank heist in years.” Jimin says with furrowed brows, bored and a little offended with the conversation. “We aren’t children anymore. Are we going broke?”

Jungkook snorts, but leans back into his chair. He pours himself the whiskey - courtesy of Yoongi - and lifts his eyes to the surrounding men that he considers brothers.

“I agree.” Taehyung nods. “Bank heists are for the lower ranks. Who’s idea was this?”

“Mine.” Jungkook slams the shot glass down onto the table and shakes his head at the powerful taste. “Don’t you guys remember the adrenaline rush?”

Namjoon snorts with a roll of his eyes. “Leave it to the baby of the group to say this.” he murmurs, a smirk forming onto his lips.

The doors of the meeting room open and heads turn towards the noise. Jungkook’s eyes land on you - and your lack of clothes all together. You adorn lingerie, black and lacy that fits you perfectly. His eyes darken when he meets your gaze.

Jimin is interested now. He leans forward and waves at you. “Y/N, hello.” he says. You were always Jimin’s favorite out of the girls Jungkook had brought around - one of the main reasons being that you actually became a wife. You didn’t remain someone he left in the shadows of his bedroom and actually gave him two adorable nieces.

And of course, you and Jungkook were one of the same. You were stubborn and took no shit and Jungkook got a taste of his own medicine. One of the countless reasons why you two bumped heads often - but it made for great make-up sex.

“Jimin.” you wave back. “I missed you. You don’t come around as much.”

Jungkook watches you with glaring eyes as you make your way closer.

“Y/N.” Jungkook’s tone is low - a warning. Not now, he wants to say. He had no time for your petty bullshit.

“You know me, I always keep busy.” Jimin continues the conversation as if you aren’t wearing the bare minimum - but Jimin didn’t see you in that way. Plus, he loved annoying Jungkook just like you did.

“That you do.” You reach the edge of the table, grasping a glass and a half empty bottle of brandy. “I see you all been drinking without me.”

“Y/N.” Jungkook continues, leaning forward. His firsts were clenching as he awaits for you to answer him.

Taehyung fights back the cackle. It was always something when it came to Jungkook and you. The fights were never to be taken seriously - it always ended the same way. You and he entangled together declaring how much you pissed the other off.

“You’ve been ignoring us lately.” Taehyung pipes in. “What did we do to deserve the cold shoulder?”

Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift. You were mocking him - he was once told by Yoongi that he allowed you to walk all over him and he was beginning to agree. You had no respect for him - and even his brothers were going along with your foolishness.

“I’m sorry.” you sigh, pouring yourself the brandy and glancing at Jungkook. “Maybe when the divorce is finalized-”

There it was - the cherry on top. Jungkook’s chair screeches as he pushes himself away from the table and lifts himself up. He’s fast as he rounds it and lunges at you. However, you’re just as fast at hauling your drink into his face.

Jimin watches in amusement as Jungkook pulls you over his shoulder as if you were a toddler throwing a tantrum. He rushes out of the room - slamming the door open with a loud bang while you’re punching at his back.

“Well then.” Namjoon claps his hands, shaking his head. He allows a few laughs to be released from his lips.

“I think this little get together is over.” Hoseok continues.

Jungkook is livid when he slams the bedroom door open just to slam it shut behind him. He shoves you off of him and onto the king sized bed. You fall on your back with a grunt, bouncing off until you catch yourself.

“You think you’re cute, huh?” Jungkook grumbles, towering over you. He would admit that he wanted to be furious with you - but your attire didn’t help him. You knew what you were doing to piss him off but you wearing his favorite perfume was doing nothing but distracting him.

“Had to do something to get your attention.” you retort, swallowing when your eyes meet the bulge in his pants.

“Ah, so that’s what it is?” Jungkook tsks. He isn't hesitant to push you back, hand wrapping around your neck. “You missed me, baby. I haven’t been as attentive to you as a husband.”

It’s his knee you feel so close to your heat, the friction causing you to groan. Jungkook was always the one to take control, never fully allowing you to unless it's what he desired.

“Why must you always take things too far?” Jungkook loosens his grip onto your neck, palm gliding down to your breast. “Am I not good to you?”

“You see me as nothing but a whore!” you hiss, turning away from him. Jungkook does notice the way your thighs quiver and your hips jut towards his knee for friction.

“A whore, no.” Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh. “My whore? Yes.” His eyes are burning into yours, offering the same venom you were giving him. “My whore to fuck, to please, to care for. You’re mine, Y/N.”

Jungkook moves his knee from your heat to replace it. His palm slaps it roughly, wet spot not going unnoticed. You shiver at the impact, ashamed that your body was giving away just what he was doing to you. You felt weak when it came to Jungkook - married for five years and together for nearly 7, he knew your body like the back of his hand.

Jungkook slaps your clothed clit more - over and over again until your juices are soaked through the lingerie, and even then he doesn’t want to stop his torment.

Jungkook’s fingers dig through the lacy fabric of your lingerie to toy with your clit. So wet - so inviting. He could never get enough of your pussy.

“You ignore me days just to show up in lingerie you knew was going to drive me crazy.” Jungkook rubs along your throbbing clit, bulge twitching at just how sopping wet you are. “Then you say it again. Threaten me with divorce.” Jungkook’s scoffing now. He doesn’t want to waste anymore time.

Jungkook enters two fingers inside of you, not bothering to give you any warning - nor be gentle in the slightest.

“You make it seem like life with me is bad.” Jungkook begins pumping his fingers inside of you. Your body gives him the reaction he always expects - clenching walls, juices flowing down his wrist and flinching form.

You want to push Jungkook away, to say that you aren’t his anything. You wanted out of this marriage from him - you were nothing but someone he had control over and you allowed it for far too long. It didn’t feel like a marriage between two lovers, instead you felt trapped in a home and made to be nothing but a body to warm his bed every night. The only gift you could truly appreciate from Jungkook was your daughters.

However, it was your body. Your body could never agree on what your mind was telling it to - you find yourself moaning lowly at his thrusting fingers. Jungkook is pissed, and when he is it tends to show in the way he pleases you. Dominant and in control.

Jungkook’s tongue licks upon your cheek. Hot, wet and slimy - all before he spits onto you. In his eyes, the ultimate sign that you were truly his.

“I fucked over enough people in my lifetime that they have given up trying to take it out on me.” Jungkook’s pumping only increases. “You and our daughters are the true targets that they know could truly get to me. I’ve done nothing but kept you and them safe.”

Your eyes roll when you feel the familiar bubbling churning in your stomach. The wet slapping of Jungkook’s fingers inside of you are echoing filthy throughout the bedroom.

“Leave.” Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you just when you were seconds away from releasing. “If you want the divorce so bad, then I’ll give it to you. Our daughters are staying with me.”

You’re panting, high coming back down to Earth. Your eyes flutter open to see Jungkook pushing himself away from you.

“I’m not leaving without them.”

“Too bad.” Jungkook shrugs. “You want the divorce. You leave and you’ll see them whenever you come here. Take whatever money you saved and find yourself somewhere to go.”

“You’re bluffing.” you find the courage to say, but your voice is so low and meek.

Jungkook hums, lips twitching as he watches you. Poor you, eyes wide and chest heaving. You never truly thought he would give you what you asked for - no matter how brattish and petty you’ve been towards him.

Jungkook was going to show you just how much you needed him and not the other way around. You were his woman regardless and no divorce was ever going to change that - not even in death would he allow you to part ways with him. He just had to show you how truly vile the world was without him.

Jungkook strokes your hair as you continue to cry in his arms, visibly shaking and trembling. Your fingers are clenching onto his shirt tight as if never wanting to let him go.

How the tables have truly turned - but all Jungkook could think was “I told you so”.

You were only gone a week and it was all it took for you to find yourself in trouble. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that revenge toward him was sought out by harming those he loved.

You sat in your hotel room when the knock sounded onto the door. You had ordered food not long ago, so when the knock sounded you wasted no time in going to open it.

Your first mistake.

Your door crashes open when you unlock it and you’re shoved onto the ground. You don’t manage to scream when you feel your screams being muffled. There's two of them, you note, both men. Their clothing was dark and loose fitted and their face had been hidden completely, you can see from a facial mask to cover their mouth and scarf on top of their heads. You couldn’t make out the eyes, yet you weren’t intended to. You were flipped onto your front quickly when one man had yanked you onto your feet, face burying into the hotel bed.

Your legs and arms thrashed around in an attempt to free yourself from the men, but you quickly realized that it was pointless - and that you were doing nothing but exhausting yourself.

Your eyes swell with tears, anxiety peaking when you realize that this might be what Jungkook was talking about - your mind telling you that there was no way you were leaving here alive.

Your arms are restrained by one man while the other pulls at your clothing. Your legs shiver when your pajama pants are ripped and you’re exposed to the cool air of the room

You feel nauseous and your head is pounding at the thought of you being defiled by these men - that you were in this situation at all.

You managed to lift your head to breathe, a choked sob releasing from your throat. Your tears blinded your vision, but you could see in the corner of your eye flesh - the man behind you ripping your clothing off. Without thinking, you sink your teeth into his skin in hopes of buying you time for an escape.

A hiss sounds through your ears and you feel a sting across your cheek. Your arms are being restrained tighter until you feel them cramp and sob.

You pleaded and begged for them to leave you alone - that you’d give them whatever money you had saved. Your pleas fell on deaf ears and you realized what they truly wanted was you.

You clenched your eyes shut when you felt yourself being stuffed by the man behind you. He wastes no time in pumping inside of you, not caring just how uncomfortable it felt for the both of you. You feel something wet, warm and slimy drip onto your folds, you conclude he had spit onto you to get any form of lubricant.

The thrusts are brutal and his hands upon you are tight and unmoving. Your sobs do not subside and you feel as though your body is betraying you. It didn’t feel good to you - you felt disgusting and utterly embarrassed; especially with the grunting sounds from the man defiling you. But your body is allowing this to happen, naturally lubricating your walls for more - your stomach churning and bubbling to reach a high you didn’t desire.

Skin slapping echoes off the wall and you had no tears left in you to cry. You wanted this torture to end, to be freed from the nightmare - but the man was cruel. You feel his hand tuck themselves beneath you and fingers twirl at your clit. You cry upon impact, shaking your head.

“She likes it.” you hear faintly - it had to be the man restraining you. His voice felt so far away even if he was right across from you.

The man behind you grunts, hips snapping into you roughly, fingers toying your clit harshly. Your pussy clenches around him unwillingly and you remain shaking your head - you didn’t want this. Your body doesn’t understand the difference between this and what it's use to.

“She’s about to cum.” the muffled voice from the man restraining you says. He holds onto your arms tighter as his partner flips you around. You come face to face with the masked person and your heart drops. You close your eyes, not wanting the man to see your reaction.

“It’s okay to like it. Whore’s like you love this, don’t you?”

The man doesn’t stop his thrusts - no, he appears to be thrusting into you even harder. Your moans of protest fill the room, but to these men, they were moans nonetheless.

Hands clamp around your neck and another around your lips. It silences you completely and you no longer have any strength in trying to protest. You felt your walls clench around the masked man until you were finally letting go around him unwillingly, but by then you were losing consciousness.

“I told you the outside world isn’t the place for you, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs into your hair. “You’re lucky I came just in time. Who knows what they were planning on doing to you.”

Your tears are now soaking Jungkook’s shirt, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to let you go - and now he would never have to.

“Come on. Let’s get you in the shower, yeah?” Jungkook says, pushing you away to look at your tear-stained face. “I love you, Y/N. Always.”

You sniffled, feeling yourself fall apart all over again. Your head crashes into his chest and your hold on him becomes tighter. “I-I’m sorry.” you apologize. You should have heed his warning - that you were safe with him. He kept you in this mansion for this long because the outside world was indeed not safe - you and your daughters could never be safe if it wasn’t with Jungkook. You’re grateful that you had not taken them with you. Who knows what the masked men would’ve done to them.

Once Jungkook manages to get you into the shower, he closes the bathroom door behind him with a sigh. He gets your pajamas ready for you when you’re out and some sleeping pills - you’d need it if you were going to get a good night's sleep.

Jungkook proceeds to lift his sleeve up and sigh at the mark on his wrist. It was beginning to sting. You managed to draw blood when you bit him - but he was grateful that the wound wasn’t too severe.

After all, Yoongi’s plan had worked. Jungkook regained his control over you - even if he had to take desperate measures and insert fear. But, he had you nonetheless - his wife.

part two (prequel) a look back into your and jungkook's fatal attraction - before the marriage, kids and the detachment coming soon...

#bangtanwriters net #bangtanwritershq #bangtan smut #btswritingcafe #btswritersclub #btswriterscollective #jungkook smut #yandere bts #bts smut #trivia-yandere #jungkook x reader #jungkook yandere #jungkook angst #jungkook husband #mafia bts #mafia jungkook #gangster jungkook #gangster bts #nefarious

2K notes · View notes

btsugarush · 4 months

Text

I’d Hate To Say it | pjm (m.list)

❝i needed you and you fuckin’ left me.❞

summary: when you return home from studying abroad, you come to find your former best friend, jimin, has made drastic changes to his life that could put him in danger or behind bars forever.

pairings: drug dealer!jimin x f!reader.

warnings: smut, violence, fluff, blood and gore, ex best friend!jimin, gang member!jimin, tattooed/pierced!jimin, long hair!jimin, use of guns/knives, mentions of self harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drugs, drug addiction, angst, murder, strong language, 18+, minors dni.

author’s note: yes, yes another one. obviously i had to write something with my love jimin. also if you can’t tell i have an obsession for tattoos and piercings.

©btsugarush. please do not repost.

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adonis-koo · 3 months

Text

sweet nothing • 9

| 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

Previous | Next

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

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.”

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #mafia bts #mafia jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts au

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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.

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

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

A/N: I just want fuck every version of Yoongi

PART ONE

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?”

#yoongi x reader #haegeum gif #yandere yoongi #augst d #hoseok x reader #bts x black reader #bts mafia au #dijhera thots #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts imagines #yandere bts #mafia!bts #mafia bts

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pennyellee · 8 days

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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

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 (preview only): minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, incision wound, blood, suicide attempt, strong language, mentions of God, ...

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 583

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: well, yall, life is getting in my way, it's certainly keeping me from finishing this chapter, but it shouldn't be that long before I actually do. I wanted to drop a little preview before the sacred day I was born, which is tomorrow, 1-2-3 birthday depression. Enjoy the preview and stay tuned for the chapter. I'll be also answering some asks tomorrow, yes, i see them, and i love you all so so so so much, I just have very little of free time lately. See ya soon! lots of love, p. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡🫧

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII

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, his panicked voice calling out to her, but it was 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 crimpled fabric to the wound, praying that Seokjin was near. Or did anyone hear 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 which 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!”

—

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 practice.” He nodded, sipping his tea thoughtfully.

“Thought you wanted to wait until the babe arrives?”

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧

©pennyellee. please do not repost

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not 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.

PS: accounts highlighted in pink 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

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lostberet · 1 month

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🕊 ˚✧ 🦢₊˚ʚ LOOK MY WAY

He had noticed the lack of love in the moral world. Conflicted, he traveled to the moral world to figure out the problem in which he was only left with disappointment and no answers. Out of self-punishment, he goes by the name Seokjin and stays in the human world where he produces a perfume company in hopes of restoring love. However, he can't help but notice how his heart beats faster for an employee, and maybe, he can understand why there is a lack of love.

✒ pair. kim seokjin x fem!reader ↪ plot. The god of love, Eros, Cupid to others, has always been part of making humans fall in love, however, the moment his eyes land on you, he's hit by his own arrow of love. tags. greek god x mortal au, non-idol au, modern history au, love at first sight, lovesick Seokjin, angst, sexual tension, semi-smut cw. This story won't contain accurate greek mythology, Jin talks to Aprhodite (his mama in this story), lovesick jin, bow and arrow, Jin gets desperate and almost shoots the reader, kisses, angst, Jin experiences heart-break, sexual tension, semi-smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), mini breeding kink if you squint, , english is not my first lenguage, if i missed anything let me know! wc. 5k a/n. I want to make a part two for this, but I am not sure, please let me know if you guys are interested! also, i was in a bit of a rush :c it's midterm season. I hope you all enjoy, like, comment and reblog! love yous!

|| masterlist || entry || part ii (maybe)?

Eros has seen the world grow. Bloom into the most curious society. What was once a life with no buildings that touched the sky, or with cement roads, Eros had grown to adapt.

The adaptation wasn't any of his concern, no, his worries and strengths lay in the relationship and love of the morals, which, throughout time has grown bitter. His concern didn't lie in the many lights the cities populated, or the noises the cars and bars created, but in the fact that no one believed in true love.

Unsatisfied, Eros brought himself into the mortal realm, wanting to explore, to study, to understand and hopefully, redeem love. Yet, each time, he was left disappointed. There would be cases in which he was able to use his bow and arrow, creating a wonderful match. And there would be times where those relationships failed, why? He didn’t understand, was he failing as the god of love? Was cupid not important anymore? As self punishment, he decided to stay in the mortal realm in hopes of redeeming himself.

He went by the name Seokjin, unable to use his given name. With his godly powers and influence, in the mortal realm, he lives a life of luxury, just like back in his immortal realm. His beauty was outstanding thanks to his mothers genes, the humans loved him. And during his time in the mortal realm, Madan flourished, a Perfume company. One in which he believed would bring love, humans loved the scent of perfume, right?

And that’s where the gods had brought you. In front of a bridge building whose architecture resabled the building in ancient greece. The summer sun warmed your golden skin, the fresh wind blew your dark hair, as if nature was welcoming you into your home. Each step you took into the building caused your gut to yell, telling you, warning you, yet just like every warning, you brushed it away.

You weren’t a model, you weren’t an influencer, heck, you weren’t a fashion icon. But the woman whose eyes landed on you sure were. It causes you to feel smaller, uglier. Could it have been their fair skin, their shiny hair or their style? You didn’t know, but you knew your appearance wasn’t welcomed.

The moment you took the elevator to the 5th floor where your Marketing office would be at, your breath was knocked south out of you. You choked back a gasp, it smelled good. Too good. You felt a headache rising to your temples and dizziness. You wanted to take a deep breath, but it was impossible with the amount of goodness scent.

“Are you alright?” the voice of the god spoke, you opened your eyes and tilted your head up. Glazing into some beautiful brown eyes, so beautiful, yet so sad, ‘Yes, just.. Headache.” You muttered, your eyes leaving him, “which floor?” You cleared your throat, “5.”

Jin never intended to lose control. No, he never wanted to. But he was losing his sanity, his will, and most importantly, himself. He never liked the idea of forced love, or love magic or anything that had to do with poisons. But his fingers would tingle at the idea that maybe, that was the solution.

He stayed all day in his elegant office, high off the many scents; chocolate, vanilla, roses, cinnamon, anything that could bring the sense of desire. During his time on the mortal realm, he noticed the human’s like of smell, bringing an idea that if he produced the right scent, it could make one fall in love. It wasn’t exactly a love potion, no. Not at all, in fact, he wanted to resolve this without his bow and arrow, without his gift, because maybe it was time not to force love?

The meeting room was dark compared to the rest of the company building, it made you feel as if you were taking part in some evil plan when in fact you were meeting the CEO and discussing Marketing aspects with the team. Yet, your gut kept telling you that it wasn’t right.

You turned your tablet on and started taking notes, drawing small doodles of the illustrations and predictions for the Spring edition collection, “No, I want something to last.” Your ears perked up as you turned your head to the chairman. Everyone in the room is doing the same. He rubbed his forehead with two of his fingers, “I don’t want to repeat fragrances, I want it to last.”

The presenter licked their lips and uncomfortably shifted from where they stood, “Oh well.. I..” They stuttered, their eyes dancing around the many faces in the room, “We.. We can try oils instead of perfumes?” You muttered out, unsure.

The chairman’s eyes landed on you, causing you to flinch. You pressed your lips into a thin line and cursed yourself as you noticed his expression change, “or maybe not..” you whispered. “What’s your name?” you lost your job. Is what would have happened if Jin didn’t appreciate your idea.

“y/n, y/n l/n. I’m new in the Marketing team.” You introduced yourself. Jin only stared at you, letting out a breathy chuckle, “Welcome to the team, y/n. I would like to hear more about those oils.” You thanked the gods above for sending Jin as your boss.

You didn't know if Jin made your life easier or harder. On one hand, he knows what he wants, he has a goal. On the other hand, he doesn't know what he wants, or, in other words, how to deliver that goal. You've been working carefully with Jin and the fragrance team to come up with a new scent. One that lasts like Jin wanted.

"No, I want the smell to attract, to.. I don't know.." Jin threw his hands up in defeat before dropping them back down, slapping the sides of his leg, "attract desire on people."

"So.. lust?" You question as you took notes on your tablet. Three months. Three freaking months is what took you to be Jin's right hand in this project. Three fucking months to be his assistant. Jin's neck snaped towards you and you were sure you heard it crack.

"I don't do lust," Jin hissed, "I do love, passion." He sighed. You nodded at his words, tapping your apple pen on your tablet, "But.. these notes.. they point to lust.."

"What.." Jin breathed, feeling too tired, too stressed. "How can anyone think about falling in love, when they're so tempted by lust?" you asked, taking a breath before continuing, "Love isn't something that can be forced or attracted by a simple trait. There's supposed to be chemistry.. affection? not desire.. or want, but longing." You explained.

Jin let out a breathy laugh. His hands resting on his hips as he turned around. His laughed turned into a sarcastic one, sending you into freeze mode. He looked desperate, mad even, “I can’t keep falling.” he uttered out, his head hanging low, “you’re not failing, sir..” Jin only laughed, shaking his head. “You’re only saying that because I am your boss.”

You shook your head, setting your coat and tablet down, “No, I mean it. You’re so talented and splendid, you have a gift, sir.” Jin almost snored at your comment. He had a gift alright, but even with his gift, he was a failure. Or maybe his gift had run out. “No, I have no gift.”

You frowned, “I have no fucking gift. If I did, I wouldn’t be stuck here. I wouldn’t be working on perfumes that help people recognize love and desire, I wouldn’t be standing here, being explained what love is, when it's supposed to be my thing.. I would be back home.. I'm a joke.”

You pitied the man in front of you. He must have had a rough life, you believed. One in which he had to live up to accomplishments, to success. Just like you felt at times. You sighed, “If it’s alright..” you took a step closer to the man, his gaze lifting from the floor to your eyes, “can I give you a hug?”

“A hug?” puzzled, Jin frowned. You nodded, getting closer and softly wrapping your arms around him. He tensed at your touch, he was never touched this way before, or touched at all, in fact. “It’s okay, Jin.” You whispered softly. Your voice comes to him in comfort, “Success takes time, no one is perfect.” But he’s supposed to. Jin softly gave into the embrace, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his head on your shoulder.

Jin never intended to lose himself, but he was going insane. Among all scents and perfumes he's worked on, none of them matched with yours. Because as he hugged you, his arms tightening around your waist, nose digging into the crook of your neck, he felt his heart flutter. You didn’t only smell like coconut with a mixture of vanilla, you didn’t only smell like cinnamon and caramel, you didn’t only smell like fresh laundry and lavender, but you smelt of comfort and hope.

Your embrace loosed the moment you felt Jin tremble on top of you. The smile you had on your face completely gone as you tried pulling away from him. His arms held you in place, pulling you back into the hug as he let out a sniff, his voice weak and heavy, “Let’s stay like this.. Just for a little.” And you accepted it.

You found Jin to be a very interesting person. He had strange tastes, or just simply didn't care. If anything, he didn't have any boundaries. He acted like he ruled the world, and honestly, if you had that amount of money, you would too.

Jin had smoothly and noticeably made it a habit to take you to his home, his house to practice give him some therapy. Oddly, enough, it didn't feel like therapy sessions.

"Maybe, I ain't cut up for this.." Jin muttered, his fingers resting on his lip. It's been around two months since that intimate hug, and ever since then, Jin had gotten.. well, he clung onto you.

You hesitantly reached, placing your hand on his back before rubbing it softly. It'll become sort of like a habit for you to comfort him. You didn't mind. You wanted to help. He lifted his head, looking at you, "you're more capable than you think, Jin."

You smiled softly, causing Jin's heart to flatter once more. What did you have to cause his heart to beat like crazy? Taking a breath which got caught, he scanned your features, falling into a spell, "..y/n."

You couldn't understand the strange tension in Jin's eyes whenever you were too close to him, touching him even. Words of comfort always caused Jin to look at you with such intimacy. Something you never got to experience in other relationships. Jin brought his body closer, nose almost touching before you realized, waking up from an enchantment.

"I..uh.. sorry, I'll head out.." you stuttered out, making your way towards the door. Each step you took made Jin's heart pound louder in his ears. How was he to tell you that he liked you? He liked you perhaps a little too much.

Jin followed behind, his thought train speeding through his mind. Without hesitation, He extended his arm, recreating holding his bow and that's when he felt it. Love can't be forced.

His heart dropped as he shook his head, running to you, "I'm sorry, y/n.. please.." You said softly but loud enough for you to hear.

Jin held your wrist, stopping you from taking a step. You turned towards him, avoiding eye contact, “Y/n..” his voice came out as a faint whisper, as if he was trying to reach for you. Your eyes betrayed you, slowly lifting their gaze to meet Jin’s and you silently cursed whoever made the man in front of you. His eyes enchanted you, hypnotized you even. His soft plump lips tilted into a small smile, leaning his face closer to you and your eyes took a quick glance at his lips before lifting them up to meet his eyes.

His fingers lightly held your chin, making sure to keep your head in place, not wanting you to leave his gaze, “Stay with me..” the words left his mouth, putting you into a spell in which you couldn’t escape, “please?”

You swallowed, but you nodded. Jin only let out a small breath as he grinded, his other hand coming to hold and wrap around your waist before he leaned closer. Both your nose brushed against each other, and of course you let out a faint whine. Jin’s thumb brushed your bottom lip, causing a small shiver to run down your spine at the warmth, “you’re so.. Enchanting..”

Your eyes looked down at his lips and as if answering your silent question he pressed his lips against yours. Both your lips chasing after each other in a deeper kiss. Your arms flew to wrap around his neck, locking him into the kiss in which he didn’t complain. His touches were ghostly against your skin, afraid to touch you as if you would melt away. Your touches were clingy and desperate, wanting him to touch and melt you away.

That night you experienced so much emotion through physical contact, emotion in which you never imagined ever to experience in this lifetime. His hands were gentle as he held your wrist, his thumb brushing against your wrist as he thrust his hips against yours. His other holding the back of your neck as he stared at your face, taking in every expression as he rolled his hips into you.

You would let out a whiney sob as you opened your eyes, a glass filled vision as tears built up from the pure pleasure Jin was giving you, your jaw widening as you let out a silent moan. Jin let out a soft grunt as he felt you tighten yourself around his cock, sending his eye to twitch out in pleasure as he leaned onto your neck. Brushing his lips against your pulse point before he kissed and sucked marks onto your skin.

Your hands ran down his back, nails digging into his skin the moment you felt your sixth orgasm of the night build up, “Jin..” you cried out in which he responded with a soft hush, “I know, darling..”

It’d become odd. The relationship between you and Jin, ever since that night. It had seemed that both of you were nothing during the day, but the moment everyone left the office leaving both your souls, you’ve become different people.

He would crack jokes, take you out for dinner, drop you at home. He would never ask for a kiss, nor a hickey, all he asked for was for your time. And it terrified you. It must have been 7 months since the night you slept together and Jin had not treated you any different, but your mind would shift towards the worst.

Maybe you were horrible in bed, were you too loud? You felt something crawl up your leg, it felt like the legs of a spider. Perhaps you were too ugly? It didn’t take long for the overwhelming feeling of insecurity to crawl over your whole body.

That night as you sat in the chair in the middle of the island in Jin’s kitchen, you fought the urge to ask him. His back faced towards you as he cooked up pasta. He always did this, at least every Friday. Take you to his home where he would cook for you, make you laugh, make you feel special and then sleep tangled in his arms. It scared you.

“Was I bad?” you asked, setting the fork down as you’ve lost your appetite, Jin only looked up from his plate as he slurped a noodle, frowning. “I mean..” Jin then set his fork down, wanting to have his full attention on you, “when we slept together, was I bad?”

He tilted his head, unsure of how to answer your question. You felt nervous under his gaze, “No, not at all?” He questioned, unsure where you were getting at, “Then why haven’t we done it?” Your voice came out as a whisper, Jin then swallowed as he blinked, “Because I didn’t think you'd want it.”

The kitchen fell silent. Jin continued, “I want you.” he paused, straightening his back as he chased your eyes to lock with them, “all the fucking time.” It was your turn to be left speechless, “I want to take you everywhere every time, but I know it’s not right, not without your permission.” The table fell silent again, and as both of you ate once more, you debated with yourself.

After washing the dishes, Jin brought you to the living room in which he turned the TV, “I find it so fascinating how humans can come up with these things. So creative.” You let out a chuckle as you sat on the couch, you back sinking into the comfort of the pillows. Selecting a streaming app, Jin also leaned back, laying next to you as an arm rested above your shoulders. “I’m serious, you guys are interesting.”

You only leaned onto his shoulder as he selected the Movie he mentioned a moment ago while washing the dishes, “Percy Jackson is.. Hm..” Jin hummed, thinking back to his life as a god. Your eyes looked up at his pouting face, “I think it’s cute.”

You hummed as you reached over for the blanket, covering your body. “Cute?” Jin frowned as looked down at you, “I meant as in, the gods having kids. I don’t know anything about all that Greek God bullshit, but them having kids seems like a cool concept.” You explained yourself as your eyes settled at the screen before you.

Jin’s thoughts shut off, staring at the wall next to the TV trying to progress what you mentioned. His eyes squinted a bit, imagining a world in which he potentially had a child, is that even possible?

“If you were a god, let’s say,” you asked, snapping Jin out of his thoughts, “and you had a child, would you let them go through all that just to accept them?” You asked, your brows frowned as you looked at the screen. Jin took a deep breath, “No.”

“Me neither. You have children out of love, not to keep the bloodline going.” You muttered, cuddling the blanket closer to you, "If i were to be a mom one day, I would never let my child think they had to live up to my expectations to receive my love."

Jin blinked. love. what really did it mean, what came with it. He rubbed his fingertips together, feeling the softness of his own skin before he sat up, looking at you. "Can we sleep together?"

You rubbed your eyes, already feeling tired, "what?" Jin leaned down towards you, "Can I kiss you?" Your eyes widened a bit, but nothertheless, you nodded.

You regretted it instantly. Your wrists were pinned behind your lower back and your face lay on the couch as Jin pounded you from behind. Small grunts and moans filled the living room, some being washed away by the sound of the TV. You twitched under him, feeling the tight knot in your stomach, "fuck Jin.."

You gasped out, kicking your feet a bit. Jin only tilted his head back, feeling his cock twitch as he slipped in and out of you, furiously slamming into you from behind, "you're so good to me, y/n.." he moaned.

His hand gripped the fat on your hip, bringing you back to him as he fucked into you, "so pretty.." he muttered, his head coming back to look at the way your cunt took his dick. "gonna fill you up so good, so full.." his head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out, causing you to gasp out as you soon felt your own orgasm clasp.

Jin kept thrusting, slow and gentle, making sure to keep his load in you. He knew that what he wanted was very slim, but the thought lingered, "I promise to take you everywhere.. I'mma make you feel loved and satisfied."

Jin kept his word and he did take you whenever he could. Whether that was bending you over his office table or having you ride him in his car in the company's parking lot. It worried you how much time and stigma the man had. He was out of this world.

"I don't just have sex, y/n." He laughed. Settling into his bed, your body already too tired as you closed your eyes, "I make love." He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his body. You wanted to protest, to argue with him. we're not in love, is what you wanted to tell him. But maybe it was a conversation of another day.

You were terrified. Nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to experience. You rubbed your temple as you walked into Jin's office floor, throat dry. You were confused, drowned in complex emotions.

It was about 8 pm, and everyone on the floor had gone home, or so you thought. Opening the door to Jin's office, the smell of what was once so pleasant to your nose caused you to cringe in disgust. This was no pleasant scent, but it was a familiar one.

The smell of sex reeked your nose as you quickly covered it, your eyes frowned as you noticed Jin in the middle of the office. His hair was a mess, clothes sticking to his body by sweat. You only scanned the room, no one was there. But nothing hid the fact of what had happened in that office.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, closing the door. You stared at your feet for a second trying to progress what had happened. Door handle still in hand, you tighened your grip before making your mind up. And the moment you let go, the door opened with Jin trying to reach for you.

"Y/n, it's not what you think." He started, following after you, "I don't care, Jin." you spat, "I mean it, y/n. I.." He huffed out, wanting to hold you from taking another step from him, "I love you." That's where you felt your heart drop.

“No, Jin, you’re confusing love and lust, please!” You pant out, your hands trembling as you hold your coat close to you. You felt tears build up in the corner of your eyes. You were hurt, tired, and scared. You reached the elevator, pressing the button. “You don’t love me, Jin.”

The elevator was going to take a while, you knew that. You took a deep breath in, trying to calm your trembling voice, not wanting to show how much of an effect he had on you, “You need me, yes, but you don’t need me.” Jin licked his lips, noticing how dry they’ve become. He was puzzled, confused. He, Eros, the god of love doesn’t know what love is?

“That is.. No.. That..” he breathed, the elevator dinged, opening its doors as it gave you an escape. Jin closed his eyes as he shook his head. His heartbeat was close to his lungs, his body felt on edge, and he felt panic. “Y/n.” He held onto the elevator door, his grip tight as his knees felt weak, “I need you.. So much..”

His eyes cried out in desperation as he scanned for any sign of understanding, of longing. You stared at him, you felt your nose become stuffy, ready to cry. His cheeks had turned flustered and his eyes had watered, he looked like a mess, a gorgeous one, “There isn’t one day that my heart doesn’t ache for you. There isn’t one second where I want to be near you, please y/n..”

He wanted to kneel in front of you, begging for you. Years and years of being worshiped, he never thought of a day in which he would worship anyone. But you arrived and changed everything, “words cannot describe how I crave for you, y/n.”

A single tear escaped your eyes, slowly rolling down your cheek as you stared at Jin, and before you knew it, you couldn’t hold the rest of them back. You let out a silent sob as you pushed Jin’s hand off the elevator door, pressing the closing button, “I’ll send in my resignation and you better accept it.”

The moment the doors closed, Jin felt his whole world collapse. Maybe he did too, maybe he too fell to the ground and sobbed, letting out painful cries as he held his chest. His hand clenched his heart as he let his tears flee. His lungs hurt from the lack of oxygen, too mournful to let any of it in. The lack of oxygen didn’t hurt as much as his heart cried for you.

The next couple of weeks felt like a visit to the underworld where Hades lived. So cold, so dark, so lonely. And out of respect, he stayed away from you. And out of love, he accepted your resignation. Yet the moment he signed the paper, he felt like you had taken a piece of his heart with you, while he was only left with the brief memory of you, not worthy of any piece of you.

His days had turned gloomy, his attitude had become pissy, and his heart still throbbed with pain. He had taken a break from the company. What was once his mission to restore love had been thrown out the window. Now he understood why morals were too scared to fall in love.

SeokJin looked up at the bright night sky, his eyes staring at the sea of stars, but none looked as beautiful as you. No, he wasn’t ashamed to mention it, you could be just as beautiful as his mother. Were she to meet you, she would for sure assume you were one of her children. His throat spat a sob, his eyes sore from crying. Was this what it felt to love someone? The back of his hand covered his mouth, not wanting to make another sound as another tear rolled down his face. Why did loving someone hurt so much?

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t cut out to be the god of love. He didn’t know anything about love. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he let out a dry sob, “Mom, what am I doing?” he asked basically no one, “What am I made for if it’s not love?” and deep down his heart broke just a little more.

A/N. love is like a fart, if it's forced, it's probably shit.

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin x you #mafia bts #yandere kim seokjin #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin x reader #bts army #x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts seokjin #bts smut

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wildestdreamsblog · 6 months

Text

Latibule: Season 2 Prologue

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: happy halloween! 🎃

Masterlist Epilogue

"You'll open your stitches, Yoongi-ah," Kim Seokjin noted with a monotonous tone, his eyes still trained on the tablet he was holding when he heard a rustling of the sheets, the first ever sign that the man was truly alive. The mafia prince that turned medical director was sitting comfortably, his long leg over the other as though he had gotten a good night's sleep since the mayhem that happened. It was the eighth day since Yoongi was in a coma, and similarly, it was the eighth day since you passed.

Since then, numerous things transpired- and they were all of violent nature. The five of them shed volume of blood, more so by the youngest of them. It was too bad for the traitors that Jeon Jungkook was frustrated because he almost found his wife. She was almost within his grasp when he was urgently needed back in Korea because unshockingly, one of their brothers was trying to kill the other. And well, the organization needed cleansing of traitors.

Additionally, it was worse for the traitors because the moment he returned was the moment he found his sunshine gone.

Yoongi was physically healing, as evidenced by his vitals that Seokjin was diligently monitoring. It was expected. Yoongi was not likened to a cat for nothing. They all physically saw him fall from the third floor, stood up, and brushed his hands as though it was nothing when they were younger. There was not even an ounce of doubt in their minds that he would wake up one of these days.

That was the thing, Yoongi was healing. But now, Seokjin wondered what would happen once he knew what happened to you.

He didn't have to wait long.

"W-where is she?" Yoongi asked with apparent effort, his hand clutching his shoulder with a barely restrained pain flashing on his face. "I need to go to her. She must be so scared," He sat up and waited for Seokjin to say something, anything.

And he waited, and waited- yet, Kim Seokjin didn't answer him. He merely regarded him with a somber expression on him, a foreign look on his usual jovial face. Jin's jaw was clenched, and he hated to be the bearer of bad news.

Yoongi blinked, looking at the older man's eyes with quick realization. He couldn't have gotten any paler even if he wanted to, his eyes widened at what he already knew.

"No. Hyung, no. Fucking no," he shook his head, his movements quick as he pulled the dextrose harshly from his skin, blood now dripping on his hand. He stood up as he aimed for the door, every step he took was shaky, yet his determination to see you was strong. "Take me to her! Where is she!"

Jin tried as best as he could to contain the man, and that was how Kim Namjoon found them. He should have known, he was no match to a man who just lost the only person he ever loved. Namjoon immediately helped his hyung, securing Yoongi's other arm on his side. But the mafia leader was like a wounded animal, thrashing around as it tried to find reprieve. In this case, it was you who was his peace.

"Hyung, stop it! You're going to hurt yourself," Namjoon ordered as gently as he could, but it fell on deaf ears. Yoongi looked at Namjoon, his dark eyes filled with panic and unshed tears. He thought that maybe Namjoon would take him to you.

You were just hurt, right? You were just resting that was why his hyung couldn’t take him to you…right? You were somewhere here. He just needed to ask more, to impose more, and if needed, he just had to scream louder for you and you would come to him…right?

You were alive, right?!

"Namjoon-ah, where is my angel, hmm? Take me to her!" his voice were shaking as he fisted his hands on Namjoon’s shirt, trying to get the taller man to look at him, to listen to him. He was close to pleading, and he wasn’t above it.

Why were they quiet?

Why were they looking at him as though they pity him?

He wasn’t pitiful, he thought. He had you.

The two men shared a downcasted look. Both men didn't know how to tell him that you didn't survive, that not even your remains survived. But they had to.

"She didn't...survive."

Yoongi blinked, and the two of them were quiet as they waited with bated breath for his reaction. Yet, Yoongi just straightened up while chuckling. “Stop lying, Namjoon.”

“He’s not lying,” Jin stated before showing you the necklace he kept in his pocket…your necklace. “This was the only thing left in the scene. You’re the Chief of Police. You know what this means, Yoongi-ah.”

Yoongi smirked before marching to the door. “T-that’s not hers.”

“Hyung, where are you going?”

“To find her. She’s not dead. She’s not gone. S-She promised me she would never leave me. She never breaks her p-promise,” he struggled to say each word as his body had not yet fully recovered. His determination was commendable, but seeing him reduced to denying your death broke what was left of the brothers’ hearts. “Angel needs m-me. I cannot fail her. N-not this time.”

Yoongi’s body swayed to the side, yet he remained steadfast, walking to where he thought you were. And if he needed to crawl, then he would. If he needed to kneel just to see you, then he would be down on his fucking knees, begging for your forgiveness.

His body failed him the moment he opened the door, his barely-recovered form crashing on the ground that Jin had no choice but to contain the thrashing man the best way he could. With a small prick on his neck, Min Yoongi lost consciousness.

The last thing he called for was you.

Even in his dreams, you never came.

Chapter I

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #yandere min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi yandere #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #suga x you #mafia bts

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explicit-tae · 7 months

Text

Reward

Jungkook tells Jin-Seon that he can have whatever he wants by doing a good in school. @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @babycandy111

word count: 1.660

warning: light smut, creampie, unprotected sex, dirty talking, praising, jin-seon being spoiled, jungkook spoiling jinseon,

“Appa, I’m so excited!” Jin-seon says before stuffing his mouth full of ice-cream. It drips down his chin and you stop yourself from wiping it because, well - he was a messy eater regardless of what it was.

“Slow down.” Jungkook sighs but smiles. “You’re still going to get your reward.”

Jin-Seon always did this when it came to being rewarded - and he was for anything he did. Jungkook had gone over the top at Jin-Seon’s first actual sentence, to his first day of school and even his first attempt at tying his shoes - “I’ll reward him again when he actually does it good” was Jungkook’s excuse to just keep spoiling his son.

Jungkook had yet again promised Jin-Seon a reward - “anything you want since you’d done so good in school!” - and Jin-Seon is jumping with joy at the thought of it.

“Can I tell you what I want now?” Jin-Seon’s soft voice says, dropping the plastic spoon in the bowl of ice cream and looks between both parents.

Jungkook nods. He’s prepared for whatever grand present his son wants.

Maybe Jungkook could rent out an amusement park for the day so he could have the time of his life - or a water park in the summertime. Hell, they could travel somewhere hot so-

“I want a baby brother!” Jin-Seon squeals happily, bouncing in his seat.

Oh.

You turn your head in unison as Jungkook does.

Jungkook coughs. “That’s…what you want?”

Jin-Seon nods.

Jungkook takes a sip of his milkshakes.

You remain silent.

Jin-Seon blinks. “Now?”

“Jin…a baby brother isn’t something you can just buy.” you sigh. You grasp a napkin and begin wiping his cheeks.

Jin-Seon has a bewildered look upon his face. “W-Why?”

Jungkook places his milkshake down on the table with another sigh. “That’s not how babies are created.”

“Uncle said Eomma has to eat a seed.” Jin-Seon’s child-like voice makes the situation more light-hearted, but not anymore embarrassing for you. “And that Appa gives her the seed.”

Jungkook was going to kill Jimin - he was the only person who could have said this to his child. But that meant that Jin-Seon had to be curious for some time about a sibling.

“Well…yes, but-”

“Jungkook.” you deadpan.

“He’s not wrong, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs. “Seonie…it’s more complicated-”

“Do you not have monies for the seed?”

“The seed is free.”

“Jung. Kook.” you grit your teeth at your husband, eyes glaring.

“Then give it to eomma!” Jin-Seon was growing agitated. He doesn’t understand why his parents were being like this, but this was also a child that was incredibly spoiled. He had whatever he desired at the palm of his hands and unbeknownst to him, a whole organization.

Jungkook turns to you for help. He doesn’t tell Jin-Seon no and he’s having a hard time doing so right now, even if his request was completely ludacris.

“Jin-Seon…why don’t you ask for something else?” you try, but Jin-Seon shakes his head.

Jungkook swallows. He knows what’s about to happen next and he isn’t prepared for it. Jin-Seon’s eyes begin to water and his fist clenches. His face is turning a crimson color and soon, he’s crying.

Jungkook goes to grasp his son but Jin-Seon pushes himself away. “I h-hate you, A-Appa!” Jin-Seon hiccups and goes to fall into your arms.

“Jin-Seon, that's not nice.” you say sternly, only imagining how Jungkook is going to feel hearing those words come from a five year old. He was a natural overthinker and now you’re positive there’s countless scenarios roaming his mind, all of which his son growing up hating him and blah blah blah.

“Say sorry to Appa. You hurt his feelings.”

Jin-Seon only cries harder - he was a child, after all. You warned Jungkook that this was bound to happen eventually. Spoiling Jin-Seon to the point that he asked for something so outrageous that he couldn’t give - but was another child that crazy? This had to be the least outrageous request his son has asked for - and less expensive.

“I’m going to put him in bed for a nap.” you sigh, eyes pleading with Jungkook. “Then we can talk later.”

Jungkook nods, unable to speak.

Jin-Seon’s words shouldn’t have gotten to him the way they had - he was a child that didn’t know the true meaning of hatred. He was just upset, but it cuts him deep. He was expecting to hear Jin-Seon say it far in the future in his teenage years, not at the young tender age of five.

Jungkook ponders on how his son feels. Maybe Jin-Seon is lonely. They lived in such a large mansion and the only time he’s around children his age is when he’s in school or when family comes. He had his own brother growing up whenever his hyungs weren’t around, there was never a time for him to feel lonely.

“You’re overthinking.” you tell Jungkook that night, laying on your side to face him.

“Am I?” Jungkook questions. “Out of everything he could ask for, he wants a baby brother.”

“Or sister.” you quip, giggling to yourself. “He told me that if a boy requires more seeds he would take a sister.”

Jungkook’s heart tugs at the innocence of his son. “Exactly, Y/N. He’s lonely.” Jungkook turns to face you. “You had 4 siblings and I had my brother plus 6 more. Even their siblings are my siblings.”

You try to understand where Jungkook is coming from. Jin-Seon had never questioned before about having any siblings, so you’re somewhat confused on where it came from now.

“Would it be bad to have another?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to overwhelm you. It’s been six years and he understands that you’ve grown to love him now and (hopefully) forgiven him for his past wrong-doings.

“Never thought about it.” you admit. “I guess I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

Jungkook raises a brow at your words. “What do you mean?”

You snort. “We have sex all the time.” you respond. “And I haven’t gotten pregnant. I just accepted that maybe the universe didn’t want me to.”

“So you want more kids?” Jungkook finds his cock twitching at the thought of getting you pregnant again.

Jungkook wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he tracks when you’re ovulating and either avoids sex or cumming inside of you. You and he hadn’t discussed children and until you told him specifically that you wanted more, then he would continue to go down this route.

You feel hot underneath Jungkook’s gaze and glance away from him. “Stop looking at me like that.” you murmur.

Jungkook flips himself on top of you. As if it's accustom, you wrap your legs around Jungkook’s waist.

“You want to have my baby again?” Jungkook is smug as he speaks, a knowing smirk on his lips. “I hope it’s a girl.”

You push at his chest with a laugh. “You’re already thinking of genders? I’m not even pregnant yet.”

“Yet.” Jungkook dives down to capture your lips into his own. “I can’t wait.” he says between kisses.

You lick your lips when Jungkook begins to place wet kisses upon your skin.

“You’re gonna look so beautiful pregnant.” Jungkook places a hand between your legs, rubbing his fingers along your clothed center.

“Ugh, just put it in already.” you unhook your legs from Jungkook’s waist and turn yourself around, kicking off your pajama shorts.

Jungkook chuckles at your flustered expression. “But I wanted to eat you out.” he says, already pushing his own shorts down.

“You can next time.” you say in a huff, spreading your legs. It’s humiliating to admit that his words did something to you.

Jungkook's hands dips between your folds and he hums. “Always so wet for me.”

Jungkook doesn’t waste any more unnecessary time and he’s entering you. His hands place themselves upon your hips as he drives himself deeper into you, shuddering. There’s always something about your walls that he loves, even after the years you’ve been together. He can never get enough of you.

Jungkook’s hips begin to snap inside of you. He’s leaned down now, body hovering above you while his lips kiss your exposed shoulder.

“I can’t wait, baby, you’ll look so beautiful with our daughter.” Jungkook grunts, hips snapping into you. His right hand moves swiftly between your legs to rub along your clit.

Your clench around Jungkook, head leaning back to rest upon his shoulder. “You’re just…” you stop your words to release another moan. “....just talking…that feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook snaps into you harder, enjoying your moans as he does. “I’ll finally be able to see you, fuck…see your stomach grow. I won’t miss it this time.”

Jungkook leans back to grip your hips once more. Now he drills into you even harder, his balls slapping harshly against your clit. “You take me so good, baby.” Jungkook huffs.

Jungkook was a man on a mission - just the thought of getting you pregnant again has him wanting to fill you to the brim with his cum. This time, he’d be there when you found out - he’ll be there for all your appointments. He’d have the chance to experience your stomach growing in size and decorating the baby's room alongside you and Jin-Seon.

Jungkook wasn’t going to last long due to the excitement, and neither were you. But that was okay because now that he understands that you wish to have his child again, there was no stopping him.

You clench around Jungkook as you’re catching your high, feeling your legs give out. Jungkook allows it, pumping inside of you sloppily until he himself was cumming. “S-Shit…!” you feel him twitch behind you, spilling himself inside of you.

“So,” Jungkook murmurs after a few moments of catching his breath. “how long do you think it’d be until you get pregnant?”

You snicker into the soft pillow. You turn your head to look at him. “That tone in your voice…it sounds like you’re challenging yourself.”

Jungkook flushes.

Series Masterlist

#cruel intentions drabble #cruel intentions #jungkook x reader #btsmasterlist2022 #btswritersclub #bangtanwritershq #bangtan smut #jungkook smut #bts yandere #bts smut #mafia bts #mafia jungkook #reward

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yoonlattesworld · 1 year

Text

The spark is still there-MYG

Main masterlist

Yoongi masterlist

Cold mafia husband yoongi x soft wife reader

💌synopsis: when a lunch date with some of your very nosy friends ends up with you remembering things that shouldn't be talked outside of the bedroom walls

💌genre/warnings:fluff, husband yoongi,mafia yoongi, established relationship, arranged marriage, dom yoongi, rough sex, cuffing, spanking, unprotected sex, cocky yoongi, sub reader, oral (f recieving),nosy friends, sir kink, doggy style,man handling(kind of?) , multiple orgasms , edging,bulge kink.

Author's pov

Placing the perfume bottle down, you took the diamond necklace from its velvet box before going to tie it around your neck but a hand stopped you and took the necklace from your hand "let me help you with that,angel" he murmured in his deep voice and you smiled softly, collecting your hair and holding them as his nimble fingers tied the delicate chain around your neck. He placed a wet kiss on your nape before wrapping his strong arms around your waist and inhaling your sweet scent. You kissed his cheek,giggling softly as he squeezed you once before rasping "mm do you want me to pick you up after your lunch?" You hummed leaning against him "won't you be busy? It's okay i can come back with the driver" you said softly and he kissed your forehead before turning you around and placing a soft kiss on your lips "how many times do i have to tell you that I'm never busy for you?" You smiled cupping his face in your soft hands giggling as he placed a kiss on your wrist.

"So will you come amd meet my friends? " you said with a cheeky smile and he sighed Chuckling raspily "sure i will doll. Call me when you're done" he hummed pulling you in a kiss "i love you yoon" you whispered against his lips "i love you too angel. So fucking much " he grunted, before pulling back even though he had half of the mind to kiss you until you can't breath. "See you later. Be careful at work" you smiled a little nervously at mention of his work. He noticed immediately and rubbed your cheek with the rough pad of his thumb before mumbling "i always will y/n. Need to come back home to you" you stood on your tiptoes and kissed him one last time.

He stared at you as you sat in the car, watching the driver closing your door and a fond smile made its way to his lips when you sent him a flying kiss. And even though it was something he would never do, he pretended to catch the kiss and placed it in his pocket just to hear your little giggle.

~▪︎~

"Y/n you made it!" One of your friends lia chirped waving at you as you made your way towards the reserved table smiling "hey you" you gave her a side hug before greeting everyone at the table. While you saw one of the lady eyeing your necklace and ring with something in her eyes,you brushed it off. After a while the table settled down and after you all placed your orders, the table was lively with normal conversation. Checking up on each other, talking about their days and giggling while complaining about our husbands. It was all going well until the topic of the conversation shifted causing you to sigh as you already quite knew what was coming next. As much as you loved meeting up with your old friends once in a while,you hated the part when they would start talking about personal life. A little too personal.

"I don't know it seems like he's not interested in me anymore. There's no spark in our marriage life like it used to be" Mei,one of your old friends rolled her eyes. She had married the earliest from your group. "Maybe because you've gotten old" lia snickered ignoring mei's whines "same here. my sex life has gotten non existent. I don't even know when was the last time we slept together " gi sung said shaking her head while you continued eating your meal silently. You have no interest in talking about your marriage life. You'd rather go home.

But it seemed like the lady who was eyeing your jewelry didn't seem to like your quietness so she cleared her throat chirping "y/n right?" You looked up smiling at lia's sister who smiled back, although it seemed a little fake to you "hello miss yoona" you smiled and she chuckled before saying "i wonder how life is going right now" you looked at her confused and she continued "your marriage was arranged right? I heard there's no spark in those marriages. And there are rumors that your husband is a quite reserved man" the table fell into hushed whispers but your smile didn't drop. Instead, you chuckled softly "i don't understand why you're so interested in my marriage and husband?" She went quiet for a moment and you could see the anger in her eyes before she smiled saying "oh no I'm just worried about you. I heard your wedding was only a small event and none of your friends were invited so it seems to me that Mr min isn't interested in your life" lia's eyes widened and she immediately shushed her and they were whispering about something but you didn't quite heard because a memory of last night passed through your mind.

~▪︎~

You took a deep breath before opening the door of yoongi's study nervously, walking inside to see yoongi with two other men. It seemed like they were in an important meeting so you immediately felt guilty for interrupting them. Yoongi looked at you for a moment and you went to apologize for interrupting them but he suddenly said "out.now" your eyes widened at his tone. He never talked to you like that. Feeling hurt and guilty you looked at him for a second before going to walk out of the room but suddenly, you saw those men standing up and bowing towards him and you before walking out the room. You looked at him surprised but he just turned his chair towards you, manspreading and rasped "come here" you walked towards him and let him pull you on his lap . "I'm sorry for interrupting your meeting " you whispered not meeting his eyes. He was silent for a moment before hooking a finger under your chin and making you look at him. He kissed your forehead looking at you with soft eyes and mumbled "you don't ever have to apologize for wanting to see me doll" you smiled slightly feeling a little shy under his gaze and wrapped your arms around his neck while his wrapped around your waist "i-i need to tell you something " his eyebrows furrowed and his arms around you tighten "what's wrong?" You bite your lip smiling shyly and whispered "I'm pregnant " his face went blank for a moment making you worry. "Y-yoongi-" but then his arms around you tighten almost possessively and he smashed his lips on yours. You gasped giggling softly as he stood up with you in his arms and kissed you harder for a second before pulling back breathing heavily. You wiped his tears with a wobbly smile, your own eyes welling up as he leaned his forehead against yours whispering "thank you..thank you so fucking much babygirl. I love you so much i love you both so fucking much " "we love you too" you whimpered kissing him while running your fingers through his long hair as he started walking towards the bedroom with you in his arms

~▪︎~

"Y/n? Are you okay?" You were snapped back to the reality as lia shaked your shoulder and you looked at her smiling slightly "yeah I'm fine. What were we talking about?" She smiled back at you and for a moment it seemed like yoona had dropped the subject as she was quiet for a moment before she suddenly looked at you "so y/n, how is your marriage life treating you?" She grinned while you sighed before looking at her with a forced smile "I apologize miss yoona but I'd rather not talk about my personal life " her smile dropped slightly but it seemed like she wasn't going to drop the subject without humiliating you "you know I'm just worried about you y/n. You're close with my sister so i was just looking out for you. You can always talk to us if he's neglecting you..i mean it's been a year since you got married but how you're still not pregnant.." all the ladies started whispering among themselves while lia hit her arm "what? I told you I'm worried about her. Mr min seems like a busy man. And maybe she's not her type i mean they were arranged by their parents so-" "i assure you miss yoona. You don't have to worry about me or my life. And for a person who's divorced i don't think you have any right to question my marriage." You smiled calmly while her face turned beet red as she heard the ladies laughing quietly before she glared at you "you're just proving that your marriage has no spark with how you're trying to defend yourself-"

And yet again you failed to hear the rest of her words as the memories from last night came rushing back, causing you to feel something warm in between your legs.

~▪︎~

A shaky breath left your lips as he placed a kiss over your pubic bone, and your eyes fell shut when he wrapped his lips around your clit. He boldly licked a long stride of your clit, groaning the tangy taste before starting to suck your swollen bud causing you to gasp loudly as your legs went to close up. He grunted, throwing your legs over his shoulder and wrapped his large hands around your soft thighs, pulling you down until he was buried in between your legs. He inhaled your intimate smell deeply, groaning before diving in like a straved man. "O-oh yoongi-!" You moaned as he took turns in sucking and lapping at your clit. '' fuck" he growled placing a soft hand over your stomach and pressing you down on the bed when your hips started buckling up and fucked you with his tongue. You whimpered softly and your hips started moving because it seemed like your body had a mind of its own when he was quite literally making out with your clit. A guttural groan left his lips when you started riding his face and the vibrations sent you into another level of pleasure as your hands thrashed to get free, but it was no use because the cuffs were stronger than you "you gonna cum babygirl?" He mumbled increasing his speed and when he thrusted a long finger in your cunt, you saw stars as he hit your g spot and a cry of his name left your lips "y-yoongi! Wanna cum-ah" you moaned as his one went played with your nipple and he growled "cum for me my love " your mouth hanged open as your high washed over you and you came undone with your toes curling because of the overwhelming pleasure.

He made sure not to waste a single drop and gulped down your sweetness with a low moan. Wiping his chin which was dripping with your juice, he came up towards you and pressed his lips over yours causing you to whimper as you tasted yourself "my pretty girl, my wife,the mother of my child" he growled out the last words, his arm wrapping around you possessively and a warmth spread inside your chest as he looked at you like you're the most precious person in this world, the look on his face was dark,possessive, full of lust as he took in your naked form cuffed to his bed. "Fuck. Need to be inside you. I need you doll" his voice came out with pants heavy with lust as he palmed himself ",take me sir. I'm yours" you pleaded and he mumbled "damn right you are angel. Mine" he lined himself at your entrance and without a warning, he slammed his length inside your still sensitive cunt coaxing a loud moan from your lips as you felt his huge cock brushing against every part of your vagina . It was no secret that he is big. "fuck y/n. This little pussy was made for me. So fucking perfect " he grunted, bottoming out before slamming back inside causing you to cry out as you pulled against the cuff "f-feels so good sir- oh god" you whimpered as he thrusted in with long and powerful thrusts, causing your body to jerk every time he thrusted in. His eyes were trained on your breasts, which were bouncing with every thrust and he swears he was going insane when he saw that little bulge appearing in your womb "fuck y/n. You make me so fucking horny" he groaned falling on his elbows so he wouldn't crush you, thrusting in harder as you wrapped your legs around his waist moaning as his lips attacked your nipples "these perfect tits will be filled with milk for my child. Our child" he sounded possessive as he kept his large hand over your barely showing stomach "this womb,will raise our kid. Fuck you will look so fucking beautiful round with my kid" he growled, hitting your g spot causing you gasp as tears of pleasure ran down your cheek "i-i will?" You whimpered, feeling warmth spreading in your body as he mumbled "yes. So fucking beautiful doll. I can imagine it and it makes me want to put more kids inside you" you gasped at his words, the feeling becoming to much to handle "w-wanna touch you sir! Please let me touch you!" You sobbed because of the mixture of overwhelming pleasure and pain and yoongi chuckled darkly "you wanna touch me? Of course you can angel. I'm yours. Yours to touch and yours to love" with a grunt he flicked the lock of both of the cuffs and you gasped as your hands freed , immediately wrapping them around his shoulders and holding him close to you.

You moaned softly feeling your high approaching once again but just as you were about to come, he suddenly pulled out of you causing you to cry out "no yoongi i was so c-close-" you were cut off as he swiftly turned you around so that you were on all fours and his hand cupped your stomach. a gasp left your lips when he landed a harsh spank over your ass "watch your tone brat or I'm gonna leave you here like this." You whimpered pitifully "m'sorry sir" "fuck" his hands gripped your ass and he entered you from behind once again. Easily slipping in your weeping cunt because of how wet you were "o-oh god" you gasped as he didn't gave you time to recover and started thrusting in an almost animalistic pace. This new position gave him a deeper angle to fuck you and small groans and moans left his lips as the sound of skin slapping increased. You gasped as another spank landed on your ass and you were sure you will be red and bruised by the time he's done with you. Your arms started shaking as you felt your high approaching once again and it seemed like he noticed because he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you up so that your back was pressed against his sweaty chest. His tattooed arm tightened around your waist as he buried his face in your neck, biting your skin to muffle his groans as he felt his own high approaching. You held his arm which was wrapped around you for dear life as your legs started shaking and you whimpered his name softly as he whispered "come for me love"you came with a loud cry of his name, your body going limp in his arm and you leaned against his chest panting as he held you up, his thrusts getting sloppier as his palm rubbed your stomach "fuck makes me want to fuck another kid inside you" he groaned feeling his balls tightening before he came with a long groan of your name "fuck! Y/n i love you so fucking much-" "i love you too yoon" you whispered, not being able to open your eyes and you would have fallen if he wasn't holding you up because of how much your legs were shaking. You whimpered softly as ropes and ropes of his hot cum filled you up to the brim. He was breathing heavily as he gently put you down, laying you on your back so your stomach won't be pressed against the bed. You would have laughed if you weren't so tired. He doesn't understand that the fetus won't be harmed if your stomach will press against the bed. The only thing he knows is that he has to protect his child. "You okay?" He mumbled rubbing your cheek and you opened your teary eyes, begging for some sleep and nodded "sore" came out whispered and you winced softly when he took your wrist gently "fuck babygirl I'm so fucking sorry " he whispered kissing your bruised lips "it's okay" his jaw clenched when he noticed your teary eyes and he rasped "you need to tell me if I'm ever too rough with you doll. I'm so fucking sorry i lost control and-" "it's okay yoongi ah I'm fine" you giggled tiredly whispering "wanna sleep" he nodded kissing your forehead and standing up "let's clean you up first yeah?" He mumbled picking you up and making sure to be extra gentle.

~▪︎~

"Hey doll" you looked up when a hand pressed against your back and you smiled brightly as you saw Yoongi looking down at you with a fond smile. Of course he looked very charming. In his three piece suit and his long hair styled. His Rolex watch shinning along with your wedding ring on his ring finger. All the girls on the table looked at you both with wide eyes as they saw him kissing your forehead "ready to go home?" You nodded standing up and he took your Louis Vuitton mini dauphine, before looking at your friends with his usual cold eyes "I'm Min yoongi. Y/n's husband. It was nice meeting you ladies, now if you can excuse us i need to take my wife home" he made sure to look at yoona as he wrapped a protective arm around your waist and pulled you closer. You placed a soft hand on his chest looking at lia "let's meet later lia" she nodded smiling softly and you smiled at your other friends before stopping at yoona who seemed to be burning red with jealousy as she eyed your bag and his arm wrapped around you "miss yoona" her gaze snapped at you with a burning smile while yoongi's arm around you tighten. You raised your hand and tucked your hair behind your ear, making sure your neck was exposing the dark marks he had left on you, and your sleeve pushed down slightly, revealing the cuff marks marks on your wrist. You didn't miss her jaw clenching as she saw the marks and you placed a hand on her shoulder saying "i assure you the spark is still there" before walking past her with yoongi smirking proudly and leaning down to whisper against your ear "that's my girl "

You giggled softly and kissed his lips "how long were you there?" He scoffed mumbling "don't worry doll. I was there long enough to almost put a bullet in her head" of course you felt the bulge of his gun pressing against your hips. But it didn't scared you like it used to. Odd enough, it gave you comfort in knowing that he was close to you. "You know you looked really hot back there" "really?" You chirped giggling and he nodded pressing his nose against your jawline "you think our kid would mind if i give them a little visit tonight?" He placed a hand over your thigh, squeezing your soft flesh and you kept your hand on his, whispering "I'm sure they won't " laughing loudly when he speeded out of the parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n the spark will never leave if yoongi's your husband 😌

Taglist(open)

@bunnyrhe @rosquilleta @raineandskye @shymagda-7 @creatorspalace @yoonaasa @iheartsvt @xmochiloverx @kyojuro-ska @meow-min @kissme-ornot @wobblewobble822 @kookieaddicted96

#bts #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #min yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader angst #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader one shot #min yoongi x reader smut #yoongi x pregnant reader #mafia yoongi x reader #mafia yoongi #mafia bts #bts smut #yoongi x reader fluff #yoongi x reader smut

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trivia-yandere · 11 months

Text

trivia:yandere masterlist

alternate universe (masterlist) | halloween (masterlist)| valentine's day (masterlist)

main account:explicit-tae

all of the works here will contain: (either or/sometimes both) smut, yandere themes and overall dark content that are only suitable for those who are 18+. all of our work will have warnings - if anything is uncomfortable, please click off. it's understandable that sometimes what is written can be triggering to some user - this is the first warning. request are appreciated just please allow time for it to be posted. please do not translate, repost or use any content written from this blog without permission.

ot7 | multi-member

the one that got away: (Part 2) you should've listened when you were told to stay away from the dark web. completed (taehyung x reader x jimin)

lessons: when jungkook asks namjoon for advice on oral sex, he wasn't expecting his hyung to physically show him - you being on the receiving end of it. completed (jungkook x reader x namjoon)

study partner: an alternate world in which the elites rule the world and have everything at their fingertips. at a top elite college, “Study Partners” - the most desirable sexual partners around the world - are assigned to the top 10% of students with the highest grades. completed

jeon | jungkook

visions: you’re convinced by your friends to go to a party and let go of the memories of your ex just for one night. unfortunately for you, jungkook doesn’t want to be let go. completed

the other woman: jungkook decides it's time to take matters into his own hands and figure out how to get you - his sweet, innocent girlfriend, to fuck him. completed

paid in full: (part 1) (part 2) "all debts must be paid in full." says jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired.

nefarious: you knew who jungkook was prior to having his children and marrying him, so you serving him with divorce papers wasn't going to do anything but anger him. part one | prequel

test your morality: jungkook's morality is tested when he's woken from his unconscious state to find you - his best friend - bound before him. completed

best friends!: jungkook doesn't like the idea of you wanting to loose your virginity to anyone that isn't him. completed

seonbaenim!: (idol version of best friends!) your group decides they want to shed the “good girl” image for your next comeback & you confide in your seonbae, Jungkook, in helping you do so. One | Two

sibling rivalry: you visit your dad for a week for christmas and come face to face with your step-brother - who you've managed to avoid - again.

kim | taehyung

two sentence horror story: you ran up to the first person you saw - a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded. completed

fertile: during an annual camping trip with your parents, you venture off deep into the woods and find a man chained to a tree. completed

park | jimin

two sentence horror story: years ago, your best friend, Jimin, and you made a pact that if one of you were single by the age of 26 that the two of you would just marry the other. completed

creep: park jimin had it all. he was loved throughout the world as an idol apart of one of the biggest groups. he had the popularity, respect and adoration - and a few haters; but what idol didn’t? what park jimin wasn’t expecting for was infamous blogger, Creep, to be reporting on him. completed

word is bond: in order to save your kingdom from perishing, you agree to give your body to the demon king - jimin. completed

bad decisions: you're getting married on valentine's day - but somehow, you allow a stripper to fuck you in front of your brides' maids and maid of honor. completed

kim | namjoon

lessons: when jungkook asks namjoon for advice on oral sex, he wasn't expecting his hyung to physically show him - you being on the receiving end of it. completed

with love, k.nj: ever since you and your mother moved into this new apartment, you began receiving notes from an "admirer", all signed with initials k.nj. completed

jung | hoseok

ain't no fun: ”Hoseok wouldn’t treat me like this.” is what had Namjoon laughing in your face - because you didn’t know Hoseok like he did. But he’d let you think you did, after all, it ain’t no fun if the homies can’t have none. coming soon...

min | yoongi

dilemma: being single and broke on valentine's day is not what you expected - especially when your dealer is waiting for his payment. completed

kim | seokjin

two sentence horror story: it’s been nearly 5 years since you last saw seokjin. completed

payment plan: your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to your brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity. completed

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chaoticpuff17 · 9 months

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Amygdala

Masterlist

chapter 12

Yoongi awoke to a sharp elbow jabbed harshly into the flesh of his stomach.

With a groan he turned over, releasing Margot from his grip and allowing her to scramble away from him. It was only when he heard the thump against the floor followed by a sharp yelp that Yoongi fully opened his eyes.

A quick glance at the clock on his nightstand told him it was only four in the morning, too early to be dealing with any antics.

“Jagi,” he groaned, rolling over to look at Margot who was half tangled in the blankets still and sprawled rather uncomfortably on the floor of his bedroom. “It’s too early for this.”

“Fuck you.” She groaned in turn, not making any move to get up off the floor, still a little winded from her unexpected tumble off the bed.

With a tired sigh, Yoongi pushed himself up off the bed. “Are you coming back to bed or are you staying on the floor?” he asked, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“I think I’ll stay on the floor!” she declared breezily. “It’s quite comfortable down here.”

Yoongi hummed, throwing his feet over the side of the bed, standing so that he could lean down and scoop her up blankets and all.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she shrieked, grabbing onto his shoulders for stability as he began to walk them out of the room.

“Going to make some tea.” he grumbled, walking them to the kitchen and setting her down on a seat next to the island.

“Tea?”

“To help you sleep.”

She scoffed, pulling the blanket around herself like a cocoon. “I would sleep much better at home in my own bed.”

He only hummed in response, puttering around his kitchen as he began to prepare a cup of tea for her.

“When can I go home?” she asked, voice small as she pulled the edges of the blanket even tighter around her.

Yoongi paused, frozen for a moment as the question hit him. “This is home, jagi.” He answered as he resumed the motions of making tea.

“This is your home. When can I go back to my home?”

He sighed, placing a mug down on the counter. “You tried to leave me, jagiya. You can’t go home anymore.”

“So you’re going to keep me prisoner?”

“You’re not a prisoner, jagiya.” he refuted, pouring hot water into the mug and letting the tea leaves steep. “You can come and go as you please so long as you have someone with you.”

“So I can leave only if you’re with me. How is that not being a prisoner?” she asked, staring down at her toes, curled around the bar between the chair legs.

“It doesn’t have to be me. Your security team can go with you.”

“So guards? Like a prisoner?”

With another heavy sigh, Yoongi made his way over to her, slipping his hand along the curve of her jaw and tipping her head up so that she was looking at him as his hand settled with his thumb under her chin keeping her head tipped up.

“I want you to be happy here, Mari-ah.” he rumbled, drinking in her features and taking note of how exhausted she looked.

He was sure they both looked exhausted. It had been a long night for both of them with not nearly enough rest.

“You’re not a prisoner. My home is your home, but I cannot…” He paused, sucking in a breath and closing his eyes as he tried to reign in his emotions. He was still reeling from the panic of nearly losing her. “I cannot lose you. Not again.”

“You can’t lose what you never had, Yoongi.” she sighed, pushing his hand away as he looked at her almost wounded. “And I don’t want to be with you.”

“I know you’re not happy to be here.” he conceded. “This isn’t how I wanted this to happen either, but we’re here now. The only thing we can do is move forward.”

“I want to go home.”

“That’s just not possible.”

Yoongi moved away, partially to finish preparing her tea and partially to escape the way she was looking at him, eyes dark and pleading, begging him to give in and let her have her way. In any other matter he probably would have, but not in this.

“What about my job? My life?”

“You don’t need to work. I can take care of you.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “With your criminal enterprises?”

“I don’t want to argue with you, Mari.” he walked over, steaming cup of tea in hand.

“It’s not drugged is it?” she asked, eyeing it suspiciously as she took it, giving the cup a tentative sniff.

“No, but it will help you sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep.”

Yoongi regarded her carefully, taking in the way she was curled in on herself, the dark smudges under her eyes, the faint tremble in her fingers as she held the mug close to her chest.

She needed to sleep, but he doubted she was going to allow herself to relax enough to go back to bed, not anytime soon at least which was going to make this an even longer night for the both of them. Dawn hadn’t even begun to break over the horizon yet.

“How is this going to work?” she asked, voice small but still drawing Yoongi’s attention to her like a magnet.

“How is what going to work, jagi?”

“This.” she gestured vaguely around her. “What are the parameters? How do you expect this to go? People are going to notice I’m missing.”

“You’re not missing.” he shrugged, brushing off that concern right off the bat with a nonchalance that bothered her. “I’m not holding you prisoner. This is your home as much as it is mine. I’m not going to stop you from going out. I’m not going to take away your access to the world.”

“I just can’t leave you.” she finished for him, staring at her mug with a furrow between her brows.

“You can’t leave me.” he confirmed. “Hey.” he called out to her softly, tipping her chin up to face him again. “It’s not so bad. We can be happy together. Just like old times.”

“That was six years ago, Yoongi. We’re very different people now.”

“Not so different.” he disagreed. “But you’re right. We do need to set some rules.” She tensed, her shoulders pulling back as though she was bracing for a blow. “I don’t want to restrict you, jagiya, but I need to know that you’re safe, that you’re here.”

“That I haven’t run away from you.” she added bitterly.

“That too.” he conceded, not even trying to hide the fact that he had an almost unhealthy need to have her next to him. “You can go where you like. You can see where you like, but I need to know where you are at all times.”

“I’m not a child, Yoongi.”

“No, but you are a woman with a history of trying to slip away from me.” he pointed out, leveling her with a blank stare that dared her to argue that point with him. “If you go out, I need to know where you are. I need to know you’re safe, and that means that either I or your security team needs to be with you.”

“How many people are on my security team?”

“At the moment?” he asked, and she nodded. “Six. Two with you at all times, and they rotate in shifts.”

“That’s a lot of people just to keep an eye on me.”

“You’re the most important thing in my life, Margot.” he stated, his voice calm but completely serious as he spoke. “I can’t risk anything happening to you.”

“Yeong is part of my team.” she ventured to guess as she turned her eyes back to the mug gripped between her hands. “And the guy from earlier.”

“Yes.” he nodded. “They can take you anywhere you need to go.”

“Do they report to you if I go out?”

Yoongi hesitated for a moment before answering. “They do.”

“So you get to know where I am at all times whether I want you to or not.” she pointed out, taking a sip from her tea. It was warm and earthy in flavor, some sort of herbal mix meant to help her relax and drift back off to sleep.

“I love you, Margot, but I won’t risk leaving you again.”

Her head shot up at that. “You don’t love me.” she shook her head, eyes troubled and a deep frown etched onto her features. “You don’t even know me anymore.”

Yoongi smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes. It was a bittersweet expression filled with a pain she didn’t want to put a name to.

“I would love you even if I hadn’t seen you in fifty years.” he told her, hands coming to rest on the island, arms caging her in. “Letting you go six years ago was the biggest mistake of my life. I have regretted not telling you how I felt every day since you left.” She stared at him with wide eyes as he spoke, not quite believing what she was hearing. “Is it so terrible that I want you with me, jagiya?” she didn’t answer. “Losing you again would break me.” he admitted, voice low and raspy as he spoke. “I know this isn’t ideal. I know what I do scares you.”

One of his hands shot out, plucking the mug from her grip just as her hold had begun to loosen. Yoongi set the mug aside, before lifting his hand to brush some loose hair away from her face, gazing at her with an expression that settled somewhere between loving and manic. The glint in his eye sending a shiver down her spine.

“I can protect you, jagiya. I can keep you safe, and everything will be as it should be. You never need to be a part of what I do. I just need you with me.”

“You’re crazy.” she whispered, staring at him with fresh horror.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, shooting her a crooked grin, that disturbing glint still in his eye. “But I know what I want, and that’s you, jagiya. It’s always been you.”

His grin faded as he continued to look at her, his eyes scanning her features and his look becoming serious.

“Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve built is nothing without you.”

“You’ve completely lost your mind.” her voice was low and hushed as she spoke, her gaze less frightened and more pitying now as she examined the man before her.

Yoongi leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the closeness, relishing the fact that she was allowing him so close.

“I love you.” he whispered, the words loud in the silence of the room.

“If you love me, let me go.” she whispered in return, her own eyes drifting shut in the intimacy of the moment.

A sardonic chuckle left him as he pulled back, one of his hands coming up to cup her cheek.

“I can’t do that, baby. You know that.” her eyes opened, watching him as his thumb drifted softly across her cheekbone. “I can let you have your freedom, but I can’t let you go. At the end of the day, I need you with me.”

“It’s not freedom if I can’t leave you, Yoongi. It’s not my choice.”

He stared at her for a moment, head tilted to the side as he considered her words. “I know, but it’s the best I can offer you.”

She pulled back, staring at him contemplatively as he had her. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Margot turned, grabbing her mug from the island before hopping down from her chair, pushing past Yoongi with the blanket trailing behind her as she left the kitchen, breaking the moment.

“Where are you going?” he asked, trailing after her.

“I don’t know.” she shrugged, sipping her tea. “But I’m not going back to bed.”

“It’s four in the morning, jagiya.” he grumbled even though he continued to follow her as she moved out into the living space and plopped herself down on his couch.

“Then go back to bed.” She said, looking at him as though this was the obvious answer. He didn’t move. “I’m too tired to deal with anymore of your bullshit tonight.” she groaned, leaning her head against the back of the sofa.

“Then come to bed.” he shot back, waiting for her to move.

“I want my own room.” she declared, and Yoongi shot her a vicious grin before shooting her down.

“Not happening, my love.”

“Why not?” she demanded, lifting her head to look at him.

“I don’t want you so far from me.”

She groaned, letting her head drop again. “You’re exhausting.”

“Then come to bed.” he offered again.

“Do I get my own room?” she asked, her head tilted to the side.

“No.”

“Then no thank you.”

“It’s late.” he said, trying to prompt her into returning to their room and the comfort of their bed, but she didn’t so much as acknowledge he’d spoken at all.

With a heavy sigh, Yoongi plopped himself down beside her on the couch, throwing his arms across the back of the couch as he did. “You are an incredibly frustrating woman.”

She chuckled a little, sipping her tea. “You kidnapped me. You get to deal with it.”

part 13

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agustdakasuga · 1 year

Text

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 1

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

“My condolences.” Someone wished you solemnly as they stepped up to pay respect. From your position on the straw mat at the side, you only maintained a straight face and bowed to show your gratefulness.

“Your father was a great man.” A lady smiled softly.

“I’m sure he was.” You replied. But her reaction to your statement made you purse your lips. You hadn’t intended to let that comment slip out. You recovered by straightening up and shaking her hand, gesturing to her to the food and beverage table.

Some people excused your attitude as your way of coping and mourning. But those people that knew the truth knew your indifference and emotionlessness was because you didn’t know the man in the coffin.

He was supposed to be your father, it says so on your birth certificate. But it also said so on the divorce papers your late mother had.

To you, he was a stranger.

You had just finished a long call with your classmates to discuss a group project that was coming up. You stretched your stiff arms over your head as you went downstairs to get a drink.

DING DONG

You placed down your mug and went to the front door. There was no reason for anyone to be here. You didn’t order anything recently.

“Yes?” You opened the door to come face to face with a suited male. He was good looking and you could tell how built he was despite his suit and coat covering his body. But you had never seen his face before.

“Nice to meet you, Miss. My name is Kim Namjoon-”

“I’m not really interested in what you’re selling, thank you.” You cut him off, ready to close the door. He held a hand out.

“Apologies, (y/n) sshi. I’m not here to sell you anything.”

“Wait, how do you know my name? I have never met you before.” You frowned, starting to get a little worried and cautious. This man looked like trouble but at the same time, you knew you couldn’t run from him. Where could you run to in your small house? Plus, he looked like he could catch you easily. You just took a step back, shielding more of your body behind your door.

“My name is Kim Namjoon. Unfortunately, I am here to inform you that your father, (y/l/n) (y/f/n), passed away early this morning.” He informed. Your eyes widened as your brain worked to process what he said.

“As his only child, it is only right for you to represent him during the funeral procession.” Namjoon said.

“I-I don’t have a father.”

“I was told that you may react that way. Here, this is for you. I know you never had a relationship with your father but he did think of you often and I know he would want you to be there for his final send off.” He handed you a folder.

“He’s a stranger. I know nothing about him except his name.” You tucked the folder under your arm.

“I understand. Your father did love you and miss you but there were circumstances that prevented him from contacting you all these years.” He gestured to the folder.

“Look, Namjoon sshi, I don’t have the money for a coffin, much less to book a funeral hall. I’m on my own, living off the savings my mother and I earned on our own.” You sighed in defeat.

“Don’t worry about that. My brothers and I have everything handled, as instructed by your father before his passing. All you have to do is be there. We were close but at the end of the day, you’re his only blood born child.” Namjoon said with a small smile.

“You work for him?”

“In a way. I trained and work directly under him.” Namjoon was brief in his explanation. You just stared at him, knowing that he was more than just an employee to your father.

“Have a nice day. I look forward to hearing from you, hopefully.” Namjoon offered you another respectful bow before turning to walk back to his car. You closed the door, leaning against it and heaving a long sigh.

So here you were, greeting people and thanking them for coming to a funeral of a man you didn’t even know. They probably knew him better than you did.

“Namjoon sshi. I’m going for a breather.” You went to the male, who was sitting with 6 other males.

“Sure. Make sure to get some food and drinks too.” Namjoon smiled and patted you on the shoulder. You stiffly nodded and walked out of the funeral hall. You entered the toilet to splash your face with water.

“What am I doing here?” You looked at your reflection.

“Just get this over with and go back to your normal routine.” You told yourself as you left the bathroom. Maybe you didn’t really know how to feel about your father since your mother never talked about him much. All you knew was that they got divorced when you were 2 years old. Were you supposed to resent and hate him? Or be sad that you never got to know him?

“Want one? You look like you need it.” A pale guy offered you a cigarette when you stepped onto the balcony for some fresh air. You recognised him as the stoic looking one in Namjoon’s friend group.

“No, thanks. I don’t smoke.” You shook your head.

“Suit yourself.” He rested his forearms on the banister, lighting his cigarette to take a smoke.

Guess you won’t have much fresh air. You turned around and headed back in. You didn’t have much appetite to eat but you did grab a drink, throat feeling hoarse from greeting people.

“My condolences. It must be hard losing your father. He was a great businessman.” An older man came to shake your hand.

“You worked with my father?” You asked politely.

“Yes, he worked hard to build his company and this legacy. He was hoping that one day, you would take over-”

“Mr Park! Come, help yourself to the food and drinks.” One of Namjoon’s friends whisked the male away before he could finish his sentence. You blinked in confusion, unsure of what was going on. Namjoon led you back to where your post was.

“If you need anything or need someone to take over while you take a break, let me know. My brothers and I can take over temporarily.” Namjoon said.

“Thanks.” You sat back down on the straw mat, making sure that the ends of your hanbok were straight.

“Thank you for coming.” You bowed to those who came to pay respects.

You looked over at Namjoon and his 6 friends who were also tending to guests and speaking to them. They were obviously not real brothers but you could tell how close they were. The guests seemed to know them fairly well.

They were your father’s children more than you were.

“That girl is really his child?”

“He has never mentioned having a child before. Is she just after the inheritance?”

“Look at her. She doesn’t even care or have an ounce of grief knowing her own father has just died. That’s cold hearted.”

Of course, you were a new, unfamiliar face. You heard all the whispered comments that were being made about you. It didn’t help that Namjoon insisted you wear the band of the chief mourner, that itself signified your highest rank in your father’s life. You didn’t blame the gossip, you would find it suspicious too if a child of a deceased only appeared at their funeral.

“The girl can’t possibly be taking over his company, right? I think he would have willed it to Namjoon. He is capable of taking care of the company in his stead.” An older lady said.

“All the boys are capable of taking over the company. They have been trained by him and cared for by him.” The man she was with replied.

“Yes, they can definitely help it to grow to be even more successful.” She giggled lightly.

"We will be having the final rites before moving to the burial site.” The funeral director came. There was a moment of silence as the final rites were performed. The director held out your father’s photo to you.

“I shouldn’t...” You hesitated.

“Please, (y/n) sshi.” The director looked at you with pleading eyes, as if he was scared of anyone else holding the photo. You chewed on your bottom lip, reaching out with shaky hands.

“Thanks.” You whispered, holding the photo in front of you. Namjoon and his 6 brothers stood on either side of the coffin, lifting it up.

“Right this way.” You walked in front, nestling your father’s photo in your hands. As you walked passed, all those in attendance of the funeral bowed their head respectfully. They walked behind the carried coffin. When in front of the hearse, you stepped aside for the boys to load the coffin into the hearse.

“It’s okay, Hobah.” You watched as the smaller, pale man comforted his brother that was crying. Even the tough looking, tattooed one was crying and being comforted by the others. You couldn’t find it in you to shed a tear of feel sad.

The rest was a blur. The ride in the luxury car to the burial site, all the expensive cars riding behind the hearse. You kept to yourself, keeping your head down and not attempting to make any conversation.

“Goodbye.” Was all your uttered as you tossed your flower down onto the descended coffin.

“Thank you for coming.” You stood with the 7 men, bowing as the guests all retreated to their cars to leave the cemetery.

“The company is in your good hands.” The guests all told the 7, mainly ignoring you. You stared at the mound of dirt that would be turned into a nice grave with a headstone soon.

When your mother died, you did everything on your own. There were no visitors, no fancy send off and no one to help you. You had her final rites in the hospital where she passed and paid for her to be buried immediately. Your mother was an amazing woman, she deserved all this as a grand send off, not your father who abandoned you.

“(y/n) sshi.” Someone grasped your arm.

“Taehyung!” Namjoon called out as you yanked your hand away, as if his touch burnt you. The man’s eyes widened at your reaction, he had no ill intentions and even wanted to try to comfort you.

“I’m going home.” You muttered and walked down the path to the road.

“Let us send you home. It would be hard for you to get a bus or cab here.” Namjoon offered. You nodded your head and sat in the car.

“(y/n) sshi, can we pick you up some food before dropping you home? You barely ate at the funeral home.” The one that sat in the passenger seat of the car you were in asked.

“No thanks. I just want to go home.” You requested.

“Of course.”

The car pulled up in front of your small, two storey house. You stepped out and looking up at the house.

“Before you go, (y/n) sshi. This is for you.” You were handed a thick envelope. You didn’t need to open it to know that it was money inside. Probably all the money from the funeral visitors.

“Keep it. It’s not my money. You guys paid for everything so split it amongst you all or whatever.” You held it back out for them to take.

“You’re your father’s child, you should be the one to have it-”

“Look, let’s just stop. The man that was just buried is not my father. The day he left my mother and I, he stopped being my father. To me, he’s just a stranger that I’d rather not know about. I couldn’t cry for him like you could, I feel nothing for him.” You sighed.

“If he wanted me to know him, he had all these years to come back. I wouldn’t have to see my mother shoulder everything on her own because he was prideful or selfish.” Your voice wavered at the memory of your mother.

“He regrets that. He hates that he could only be your parent in his death.” Namjoon said gently.

“No, I only have one parent and I already buried her, two years ago.” There was so much bitterness in your voice. You turned away and entered your house, locking the door shut.

Like the day Namjoon came to deliver the news, you sat with your back to the door. You heard the roar of the luxury cars come to life and fade away as they drove off. Finally, your sobs and tears fell freely.

It wasn’t fair that the man that easily upped and left is celebrated while you and your mother were left to fend for yourselves. The only regret you had was not being able to do better for her when she tried her best for you to live life like any other kid. You worked any job that would take you but you still couldn’t buy her lavish gifts for Mother’s Day and her birthdays.

The day your mother collapsed, you had never been the same. You blamed yourself, she collapsed from the exhaustion. Her body was so weak that death came quickly.

When you buried her, you buried your heart with her.

“Ugh.” You got up, going to shower and change out of the mourning hanbok. You placed everything into a paper bag, throwing it into your closet.

“Hi, can I order two soups, please? Yes, two bowls of rice.” You ordered with the nearby restaurant. If you were not cooking, you usually ordered 2-3 portions of food at once, keeping the extras in the fridge to save on delivery fees.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Delivery!” You went to the door. The man held out the packets of food to you and you handed him the money.

“Have a nice night.” He bowed and went off on his motorcycle. Just as you were going to close the door, you looked at the envelope on your door step. It was the one with the funeral money. But unlike earlier, there was now writing on one side of it.

‘You don’t have to spend it, you can donate it. The money doesn’t belong to us. If you ever need anything, contact us.’

Stapled to the envelope was a business card. It was white, the company name ‘Bangtan Enterprise and Exchange’ printed in gold font. The other side of the card had one number on it. There was nothing else on it.

“Bangtan...” You read out. You placed the food on the table and put the envelope aside, no intention on using the money.

“Thank you for the food.” You began eating. You had placed your laptop in front of you, some mindless show playing to fill the quiet space with some sort of noise.

‘Dear student,

We would like to extended our deepest condolences to you and your family upon hearing your family member’s demise. As per school protocol, you have been granted 3 days of school leave.

- School administration’

You just saw the email sent to you by your school administration. How did they even know if you didn’t tell them? Plus, you never registered a ‘father’ in your school records. Whatever, now you had 1 extra day. Maybe you could spend the whole day sleeping tomorrow since you have been thrown into this emotional rollercoaster and have not slept for 2 days.

“I’m so full.” When you were done eating, you did the dishes, put the extra food into the refridgerator and went to your room to do some studying.

‘(y/l/n) (y/n)’

You remembered the folder Namjoon gave you when he first arrived at your doorstep. Pulling out your chair and sitting at your small desk, you undid the string and poured all the contents out.

“Omma...” You picked up one of the photos. You were a baby in your mother’s arms, the photo caught the both of you mid laugh.

‘My beautiful girls.’

The handwriting was not your mother’s so you guessed it was your father’s. There were pictures of them together, before your mother was pregnant and some while she was pregnant.

The only one that was carefully wrapped in plastic was one of your father carrying you after you were just born. In the plastic, with the photo, there was a folded letter than fell out. Your name was written on it.

‘My dear (y/n),

If you are reading this letter, it probably means that I am gone. Namjoon and the others have been instructed to give this to you only when I pass. Only because I am a coward that cannot face you and your mother after everything I have done.

I know after so many years, no excuse or reason will ever make up for my absence. I deserve to be hated and resented by you.

(y/n), if I could have been there to witness you growing up into such an amazing person, I would have. I would have given up the world to have you and your mother with me.

But I know I cannot be selfish. I cannot jeopardise your safety and risk putting you and your mother in danger. I’d rather live away from you than to know I am the reason you or your mother get hurt.

Every day, I think about you. How I wish I could speak with you and hug you, tell you I am sorry and that I missed you.

It has not been easy hasn’t it? You and your mother having to fend for yourselves. Your mother is just as tough, not wanting to receive any help from me, wanting to singlehandedly raise you, care for you and put you through school. I am confident that she raised you well, to be just as strong and independent as she was.

I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that though, how amazing of a woman your mother is. I will always love her with all my heart, I’m grateful to have her as my partner and soulmate.

While I may not be there to make up for my absence, if you or your mother ever need help with anything, please contact any of the boys.

To ask you to be there at my funeral was unfair of me, I am just a stranger, you probably barely know what I look like. But please just let me be selfish one last time, I just want to see you one last time before I leave.

I’m sorry, (y/n). I don’t deserve to call myself a parent, much less your father.

- (y/f/n)’

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