#Seokjin mafia
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Collateral 🗡️ POV: Jimin
Jimin learns that his boyfriend played a role in his recent attack and he decides to get revenge.
Or, the one where Jimin attempts to kill a man, but needs to call for help, and 2seok arrive to take care of more than just a dead body.
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❗ THIS IS A CHARACTER POV CHAPTER!!!
if you do not wish to perceive any POV that is not the main character, please feel free to skip this one!
🗡️Jimin x his ex, Jimin x Seokjin x Hoseok
🗡️ word count: 9.7k
🗡️ mafia au, complicated relationships, graphic violence, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit, 21+
🗡️ warnings: power bottom Jimin with ex; bottom/sub Jimin & top/dom Seokjin with allusions to top/dom Hoseok. drugging someone using cocaine laced with pharmaceuticals with the intention of killing them; use of anal plug; anal sex; restraining someone against their will; sex pivots from consensual to dubious; cocaine use; murder; being cradled in the bosom of one friend while the other suffocates his dying boyfriend with a pillow; bdsm dynamics; wearing a collar; sounding - use of sounding rod; safewords; subspace; allusions to blowjob & anal fingering with the promise of sex.
🗡️ notes: mc is referred to in 3rd person (she/her) pronouns for this chapter! i don't have Jimin's relationship tagged in the overall fic because this is the first and last time we know him by name and it feels insignificant. this chapter is a bit brutal at times. heed the warnings.
🗡️ early draft beta read by @blog-name-idk - but it has undergone some pretty big non-beta’d edits
🗡️ posted feb. 2024 - originally nov. 2022 | read on ao3
Jimin stares at his reflection in the vanity mirror. He has recently colored his hair a nice medium brown, and his gaze traces the waves that perfectly rest over his forehead, marveling at a job well done.
Beauty is a weapon that Jimin hones and uses expertly, and this new look of his is simply an act of sharpening his blade.
R&B music plays constantly through speakers placed in every corner of the room, setting the mood while Jimin slowly and delicately applies a dusting of pink eyeshadow, highlighting with white below the brows, and finishing with soft black lines along his lids that peak in a faint cat eye at the ends. Then he applies mascara and dots gemstones along his brows and beneath his eyes.
His right eye is still bruised with deep blues and purples surrounding the socket, but the swelling has gone down, and Jimin rather likes how dramatic it looks dusted in shimmery pink.
To complete the look, Jimin applies a light pink gloss to his lips, then gently blots on a deep red eyeshadow just to the scabbed-over slit on the right side that has been healing nicely. The injury stands out, and one would never know a touch of powder has been added to accentuate it.
"Perfect," Jimin says with a grin as he sits back in his chair in only his briefs and takes in his reflection.
Jimin promised Yoongi he would lay low because it was the only way he figured he would have the freedom to return as quickly as possible and enact his revenge without the others worrying too much about him. The moment he left the mansion, he drove straight to his suite at Paradise. He feels guilty for lying, but lying is one of the few privileges Jimin has always had, and at times it comes as second nature to him.
Taehyung had let it slip that Jimin's soon-to-be ex-boyfriend is associated with the man who attacked him. While the family men were beating information out of the man, he name-dropped Jiyong and mentioned he is one of Ryujin's men who had been sent to spy on the family.
Jimin hates that he was not a bit surprised to hear the rumor. He had been having suspicions for several weeks that Jiyong may have been up to something, and he has recently been keeping him at arm's length and not inviting him to any of the mansions. Since keeping Jiyong away from the property, his attitude has begun to take a turn, and he has been unpredictable and moody, which Jimin now attributes to him being unable to complete his mission.
So, naturally, Jimin has decided the only thing left to do is corner the man, apply a little pressure, and force him to speak, all while slowly killing him. And what better place to do so than in the comfort of his suite at Paradise, where no one will dare interfere with his actions?
His usual guard, who is already stationed outside his room, has been informed to ignore any screaming he may hear—aside from a safeword that Jimin has chosen, of course. The room is bugged for his safety, and Jimin tries not to imagine all the things his trusty guard has heard over the years. After all, that is how he was saved from the beating that could have ended up being a lot worse.
Jimin steps back from the vanity and gives himself one more glance before sliding down from his tall makeup chair and walking to his closet. The room is nearly the size of his suite, with rows of clothing, costumes, bondage gear, jewelry, footwear, and other accessories. He walks to the first rack, which is lined with robes and lingerie, and he grabs a mesh black knee-length, long-sleeve robe with feathers lining the hems.
Beneath the robe, all Jimin wears is tight pink briefs, and he ties the black cord around his waist loose enough to allow plenty of skin to stay exposed, showcasing several semi-faded bruises on his chest and neck. Jimin considers painting over those with a little makeup as well, but a light knock on his suite door indicates that his time to prepare has come to an end.
"One moment, jagi!" Jimin calls from the closet.
He smooths his hands down the soft mesh of his garment and pulls his lips into a sweet, practiced smile. All the world is a stage, and Jimin is ready to put on a final performance for Jiyong.
With one last glance around the suite, Jimin confirms that everything is in place, and he turns off the closet light and walks to the door. The room is simple, with a large bed in the corner and shelves of sex toys between the bed and the closet door. There is a tiny kitchenette between the closet and the en suite bathroom, where Jimin can prepare something small to eat, but he only uses the space to store alcohol and the occasional snack.
There used to be a small dining table and chairs, but after the attack, Jimin had all superfluous furniture removed, leaving only the bed, makeup chair, and vanity. He had come too close to getting the back of his head bashed into the corner of the hardwood of the table, and he does not want to take the chance again.
The lighting is dim, with pink and purple lights giving the room a bit of a romantic glow. On the bed are black satin sheets with wrist restraints tucked just below the pillows for bondage play.
Jimin loves being restrained and made helpless during sex. There is something he finds so addicting about handing over all control and being used as his partner pleases. Of course, bondage play is reserved only for people who Jimin trusts. Even so, the restraints he ordinarily uses have a safety mechanism to allow him to break out of them easily, should he need to.
The restraints currently nestled under Jimin's pillow have no such mechanism.
When Jimin opens the door wide and takes in the sight before him, his smile nearly falters. Jiyong's hair is black, short, and messy—framing his handsome face nicely—like he rolled out of bed moments before arriving. He wears a simple white tee tucked into blue jeans, and Jimin wonders how it would look with bright, deep crimson red spreading over the thin, white fabric.
"Hey, baby boy," Jiyong says as he eyes Jimin's attire with a smirk. "When you said you wanted to speak in private I didn't realize you meant you wanted to fuck. I would have put a little more effort into my appearance."
Jimin takes a step forward and rubs his hands over Jiyong's chest. He can feel his heart beating gently behind his ribs, and he tilts his head slightly down to capture Jiyong's lips in a chaste but sweet kiss.
"I had plans to just talk," Jimin mutters against Jiyong's lips. "But then I thought about how long it's been since we've had some time for just ourselves and I couldn't resist changing into something more enticing."
"Enticing?" Jiyong responds with a grin. "You're absolutely breathtaking, baby."
Jimin doesn't miss the way Jiyong's gaze lingers on his bruised eye and split lip as he grips onto his shirt and backs into the suite. He glances over Jiyong's head, making eye contact with the guard who stands with his arms crossed in the hall, just opposite his door. The guard nods once, and Jimin tugs Jiyong over the threshold and closes the door, which locks behind them.
"Let me fix us a drink, okay?" Jimin suggests, and Jiyong nods as he eagerly reaches for the black cord around Jimin's waist that holds his robe closed. Jimin swats at his hands and giggles as he backs away.
"Have a seat," Jimin says as he nods to the bed.
Jiyong does as instructed and sits on the edge of the bed. He rubs his hands over the dark sheets and keeps his eyes fixed on Jimin, who saunters over to the kitchenette while keeping his attention partially on Jiyong as best as he can.
Jimin pulls two short, round glasses from a small drying rack on the counter and grabs a decanter of whiskey that Yoongi gifted him, pulling the intricately designed triangle crystal top off with an inviting pop as the rubber stopper comes loose from the opening. He pours them both a finger of whiskey and puts the decanter top back on, pushing it nice and firm to create an air-tight seal.
"Whoa," Jiyong calls from the bed, "using the special occasion whiskey?"
Jimin hums and turns to Jiyong with a smile. "That's right. Jeonggukie also gave me some new product that I would like you to try. I had a sniff shortly before you got here, and I feel incredible."
"Damn, starting without me?" Jiyong chides.
On a small mirror, Jimin has racked up a nice thick line of cocaine, triazolam, and codeine. He brings it over to the bed with an already rolled-up note and hands it to Jiyong, then turns back to the kitchenette for the glasses of whiskey. Jiyong wastes no time snorting the concoction.
First, there's a hiss, then a gasp. Jimin turns to Jiyong with wide, worried eyes, and much to his pleasure, he watches as his darling boyfriend struggles to hold his composure. Snorting the medications could not have felt good, Jimin thinks to himself. Probably it burns his cocaine-raw skin like crazy.
"Everything alright?" Jimin asks sweetly.
"Fuck's in this?"
Jimin chuckles, adding a lilt of playfulness at the end. "Cocaine, silly."
Jiyong taps on his nostril with the knuckle of his bent index finger and sniffs several times. "Smells off. You said this was new?"
"Just came in last night."
"And you had some?"
Jimin hums and hands Jiyong his whiskey. "I did," he lies with a soft smile.
The line Jimin racked up was pretty thick, even for an avid user such as Jiyong, and he smiles as he grabs the empty mirror from the bed and sets it onto a nearby nightstand. It is astounding, really, how someone who snorts so much cocaine does not immediately find something off about the powder and refuse to snort it.
None of the family men would have been that stupid. But, then again, none of them do drugs outside of what Jeongguk supplies.
Jiyong swirls his whiskey and gives it a smell, then sips it slowly, and Jimin holds back laughter at his newfound paranoia. Originally, he had planned on mixing the pills in his whiskey, but after some trial runs, the powder of the crushed-up medication was always detectable, either visually or by taste.
"Alright," Jiyong says as he adjusts his posture, sitting up and rolling his shoulders. He winces as he sniffles loudly. "What's the special occasion?"
Jimin holds his drink out toward Jiyong, which Jiyong taps his glass gently against, and as Jimin shoots back the bittersweet liquid, Jiyong follows suit and does the same.
"Get on the bed, jagi," Jimin says. "I want to give you my good news with your cock buried deep in my ass."
Jiyong coughs, seemingly shocked by Jimin's words, and Jimin laughs as he leans to give him a weak pat on the back. As Jiyong bends forward and attempts to catch his breath, Jimin peels the empty glass from his fingers and sets both glasses beside the mirror on the nightstand. Also on the small, black table is his silver vial of unlaced cocaine.
Perhaps it is selfish, Jimin thinks, but despite his overwhelming desire to dig his claws into Jiyong and kill him with his own two hands, he wants to fuck him one last time. He even went through the trouble of prepping himself, just in case the pills kick in too quickly.
Jiyong stands from the bed and stumbles forward a step before correcting himself, and Jimin watches as panic flashes over his face while he begins to undress. He leaves his clothing in a heap beside the bed and sits naked on the mattress, cock half-hard and looking heavy between his legs.
"Lay down, jagi," Jimin instructs, and Jiyong smirks as he scoots back on the black silk, then rotates himself to lay with his head on the center pillow.
Jimin bites his lip and swishes his hips to the soft R&B that plays overhead as he rubs his hands down over his pecs and tummy, then back up, feeling the soft black fabric of his mesh robe. Jiyong watches intently, following the movement of Jimin's hands, and Jimin approaches and bends slightly at the hips as he sticks his hands under the robe to gather the hem of his briefs and pull them down.
"Gonna keep the robe on?" Jiyong asks with a grin.
Jimin nods, feeling rather femme fatale, and saunters over to the bed, wasting no time to climb on top and straddle his boyfriend's hips one last time.
"I prepped myself," he says sweetly, giggling as Jiyong's eyes go wide, and he reaches behind Jimin to feel for himself.
A small burst of pleasure shivers through Jimin when Jiyong's fingers touch the end of the metal anal plug, and he lets out an exaggerated moan and throws his head back. Jiyong tugs on the toy a few times, then slowly begins to pull it out, sparking Jimin to let out a genuine moan as he falls forward into Jiyong's chest.
"So eager you prepped yourself," Jiyong teases as he tosses the plug aside and presses two long fingers into Jimin's stretched-out hole, forcing a sob to fall from between his lips.
"Need you now," Jimin moans, rolling his hips and fucking himself onto Jiyong's fingers.
Jiyong reaches beneath Jimin with his other hand and grabs his cock. He presses against Jimin's hole, in which his fingers are still buried, and Jimin trembles and slaps Jiyong on the chest.
"One or the other," he complains, feeling horny and impatient.
Jiyong pulls his fingers out and gives Jimin's ass a light slap, groaning, "Alright, alright."
As soon as Jiyong presses his cock head into Jimin's ass, Jimin takes over and sits up, rocking his hips gently despite the overwhelming stretch. Jiyong slides his hands over Jimin's ass, grips him with intention, but then drops his arms to his sides. A light sigh leaves Jiyong, and Jimin opens his eyes to find him staring at the ceiling, looking spaced out.
"What's the matter, Ji?" Jimin purrs as he picks up his pace, rolling his hips up and crashing them down.
Grunts and groans come from Jiyong, and he blinks several times. Finally, he mutters, "What was in that cocaine?"
Jimin slows his hips to a languid pace and grabs both of Jiyong's hands. He pulls both hands above his head and leans forward, leaving a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.
"What do you mean?" Jimin asks sheepishly.
"I feel...fuck. Tired."
Jimin hums, reaches above Jiyong's hand to tug on a thick black strap that runs from the bed frame, to just under his pillow, and pulls out a black leather wrist cuff. Jiyong does not enjoy being restrained, so Jimin works fast to secure the cuff, which locks in place with a velcro strap that wraps around the entire wrist.
"What—" Jiyong yanks at his restraint and attempts to claw at the velcro with his other hand. "Jimin, this isn't funny."
Jimin, who continues to slowly fuck himself on Jiyong's cock, fishes out the second restraint and wrestles it onto his wrist. Jiyong grunts in a feeble attempt to beg Jimin to free him, but he doesn't seem to have a lot of strength left in him, and the words die on his tongue. Jimin giggles as he tightens the velcro, then he sits back up and bounces his hips high, slamming them down hard, hoping to cum fast before he loses him completely.
"Triazolam and codeine," Jimin moans as he throws his head back.
"Wh—"
"The cocaine," Jimin groans as he makes eye contact with a very heavy-lidded Jiyong. "I laced it with triazolam and codeine."
Jiyong rocks his hips as if in a panic, possibly attempting to shake Jimin off, but it does him no good. Jimin is close anyway, and he snakes one hand into his robe to squeeze at his leaking cock head, hissing from the burst of pleasure that the contact brings.
"Don't you want to make me cum, baby?" Jimin asks, moaning through each word as his high increases.
Jiyong stammers, "Of c-course."
"It's a shame I'll never cum on this cock again," Jimin whines as he rubs the dribbled streak of precum down his shaft.
"Jimin," Jiyong mutters, "what are you doing?"
Jimin feels so close. He picks up his pace, squeezes his eyes shut, and sobs out as his orgasm rocks through him. He catches all of his release in his hand and leans his weight on his other hand, which presses into Jiyong's chest.
Despite bringing himself quickly to orgasm, everything feels lackluster, and Jimin sighs as he lifts his hips and drops Jiyong's still-hard cock out of him.
Originally, he wanted to blacken Jiyong's eye and split his lip as the other man had done to him, but now that Jimin comes down from his high, he just feels disappointed. He feels sad.
"Was this relationship a sham from the start or did Shin recently buy you?"
Horror widens Jiyong's heavy eyes. "Ji-Jimin, p-please."
"Answer me!" Jimin shrieks, balling his fist as his cum runs down his wrist.
"I'm sorry, Jimin," Jiyong mutters. "Please f-forgive me."
"Forgive you for what, exactly?"
Jimin dismounts Jiyong and gets off the bed. He picks up his pink briefs and wipes his hand off with it, then grabs his silver vial of cocaine from the nightstand, unscrews the top, and brings the attached tiny metal spoon to his nose.
"I w-was just supposed to sp-spy on the family," Jiyong mutters pathetically.
Jimin sniffs back the drug, dips the spoon in once more, and sniffs a second small pile into the other nostril. Then he screws the top back onto the vial and holds it tight in his fist as Jiyong continues.
"I wasn't...su-supposed to f-fall in love."
Anger and bile rise up Jimin's throat, and he turns to Jiyong with a frown. "Don't you fucking dare!"
"I d-do love you," Jiyong whines, and Jimin's fist trembles. He wants to punch Jiyong until his face is unrecognizable. But he doesn't want to fuck up his hands; Jimin needs his hands.
"You love me? Which is why you sent someone to beat me up? Weird fucking way to show your love, Ji!"
Jiyong squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. A tear falls down the side of his face, the sight of which just adds to Jimin's fury.
"I didn't k-know—he wasn't supposed to do th..." Jiyong trails off, face falling to the side.
Jimin approaches and slaps Jiyong several times on the cheek. Jiyong startles and opens his eyes wide and pleadingly.
"Baby," Jiyong whines.
"If you confess to me what happened I will unrestrain you, force you to vomit the pills, and we can part ways and call this done," Jimin lies. "Otherwise, you are going to die."
Jiyong's eyes open wide, and he swallows hard. "I was Sh-Shin's man from the start. But I stopped giving her inf-information. That's why she sent that guy, who—who—. He was supposed to rough up me. Not you. I'm sor-sorry."
"Ryujin sent you to spy on us, and then you got too close and betrayed her? So she sent a man to set you straight and he attacked me instead? Is that what happened?"
Jiyong nods frantically, eyes threatening to roll to the back of his head. "P-please, you can't leave me here to die. Someone will f-find out."
"People overdose in these rooms every week, jagi. Nobody will ask questions when Yoongi's men are the ones handing your body over to the morgue."
A weak, garbled sob comes from Jiyong, who attempts to scratch at his restraints. He kicks his feet out, but it is clear that his limbs are too heavy to move very well, and he gives up, curling on himself as best as he can as he cries.
And Jimin, who thought he had everything under control, sobs before he can stop himself. In the six months that he and Jiyong have been spending time together, he has managed to catch feelings.
They were compatible. They fit together nicely. And it was all a lie, doomed from the start because he was sent by the enemy and chose to keep that a secret even as they got close.
The worst part is that if Jiyong had been honest with him about betraying Ryujin, they could have tried to make it work. It would have been an uphill battle, but he would have done his best to trust him.
Jimin turns away from the bed in time for tears to fall in heavy streams down his face. He can't do this. He can't follow through with the murder. He needs help.
On the vanity counter sits Jimin's phone, and he walks over and picks it up in shaky hands, dialing Yoongi's number. Yoongi answers after one ring.
"Hello?"
"Hyung," Jimin sobs, voice squeaking. "Please don't be mad at me."
"Jiminah," Yoongi responds firmly. "I could never be mad at you. Tell me what is happening. What do you need?"
"I c-came to Paradise," Jimin hiccups. "I brought Jiyong and I drugged him but I can't finish him. I need help, hyung."
Yoongi chuckles. It is soft and bright, and it takes Jimin by surprise. He can't help but smile slightly from the sound.
"Jiminah, what did I tell you about trying to do everything by yourself?"
"I know," Jimin whines, feeling pathetic. "I'm sorry."
"Seokjin and Hoseok are at House of Cards. I can send them over now, or I can come to you in the next thirty or so minutes."
"S-Seokjin-hyung is fine."
"Don't cry, okay, Jiminie? Your hyungs will take care of it."
"Th-thank you, hyung."
The line goes dead, and Jimin lowers his phone from his ear. There was a part of him that feared Yoongi would be disappointed in him for going against his wishes of laying low. But he should know by now that Yoongi could never be disappointed in him. He has said as much many times, and he has never shown signs of faltering.
Jimin takes a fortifying breath and holds it in his lungs before breathing it out slowly. His phone vibrates in his hand, and he lifts it to find a notification from Seokjin that says, "Be there in 5."
Hyungs will take care of everything, Jimin reminds himself. They always do.
The room is still and silent, and Jimin glances at the man on his bed—naked and breathing deeply, fast asleep. Jimin wasn't sure how much it would take to force an overdose, and his original plan was to smother him in the event that the pills were not enough. But now that he faces the need to finish the task, his arms feel shaky and weak.
Jimin is not a killer. He may be family to a pack of ruthless men, but Jimin cannot bring himself to kill someone.
With one more deep exhale, Jimin returns to his closet and grabs the clothes he came dressed in—a black long-sleeve velvet button-up and lace-front leather pants.
The intention was to go to the club and find someone to fuck away his frustration with, but now as he slides on the thick leather pants, he does not feel like doing much of anything. He even considers finding something else to wear since it will be Seokjin and Hoseok taking him home, but he doesn't have the strength to choose a new outfit. Maybe his hyungs will consider his outfit amusing.
Jimin manages to loosely tuck his shirt into the front of his pants before there are three firm knocks on the door. Seokjin always knocks thrice. Jimin smiles weakly to himself and shuts off the light in his closet, then makes his way to the door, keeping his eyes off Jiyong.
When Jimin swings the door open, Seokjin immediately lifts his hands to Jimin's chin and bends to place a soft kiss on his bottom lip. Jimin gasps and immediately relaxes into the touch, and Seokjin places a second peck on his nose before standing straight and peering over his head. It has been years since Seokjin kissed him, and Jimin stands in a bit of a daze.
"I have always wondered what his cock looks like," Seokjin muses.
Jimin backhands him on the chest with a chuckle, coming back to earth as he shouts, "Hyung!"
"Tell us what you need," Hoseok says softly as his head appears from the side of Seokjin's broad shoulder.
Jimin takes a step back and allows both men into the room, and as Seokjin walks past Jimin toward the bed, Hoseok closes the door softly and approaches Jimin, gently taking his chin in his hands just as Seokjin had.
"Baby, your new hair color is stunning," Hoseok says sweetly, eyes sparkling. "You look so much younger."
Jimin sniffles and smiles, feeling tear streaks staining his cheeks. "I look younger because I've cried my makeup off like a child."
Hoseok chuckles and pulls Jimin into a firm hug, engulfing his head and shoulder with his arms. He smells like a freshly picked bouquet, and Jimin wraps his arms around Hoseok, sinking into the feeling; Hoseok has never hugged Jimin like this before.
Then, Jimin hears it: a muffled voice groaning and struggling from behind him. Hoseok holds Jimin even closer.
"It'll be over in a second, baby, don't worry," Hoseok mutters against Jimin's head, and Jimin nods feebly and lets out a deep breath that he had been holding.
For years, Seokjin and Hoseok have called Jimin baby, and for years, Jimin thought it was condescending at best. But like this, tightly wound in Hoseok's arms, the name brings him comfort. Perhaps, he thinks, he had it all wrong.
"Did he manage to confess?" Seokjin asks, and Hoseok slowly lowers his arms from around Jimin.
Jimin is not sure what he expects to see when he turns around, but he is thankful to find that Seokjin has completely covered Jiyong with the black silk sheet. Seokjin glances around the room and begins to collect Jimin's things, grabbing his vial of cocaine and his cell phone and shoving them into his pockets.
"He said Ryujin sent him to spy on us and that he ended up fall—" Jimin stops himself, then sighs and nibbles on the inside of his lip. "When we started dating he began to lose sight of the mission. Apparently, the guy who roughed me up was actually sent here for him. Or so he claimed. I don't know. I don't fucking care anymore."
Hoseok wraps his arms around Jimin's shoulders, pulling him into a tight back-hug while Seokjin washes the whiskey glasses and mirror that had been left on the nightstand.
"Oh, baby, you clearly do care," Hoseok says as he rests his head against Jimin's shoulder and nuzzles his nose below his ear. "And that's okay. We can help you forget."
"Forget, how?" Jimin asks, watching as Seokjin tidies up the makeup that was left on the vanity, then gathers the clothing that had been piled on the floor.
Seokjin turns to Jimin and quickly raises his eyebrows a few times. "Any way you'd like, pretty bird. What's your poison, these days?"
What Jimin really wants is to be tied up and fucked senseless until he forgets the way Jiyong's cock felt inside him—until he forgets his own name. But he doesn't know how to ask for that, even if it happens to be something that he assumes is on the table.
Luckily, Jimin doesn't have to ask because these two can read him like a book. Reading people is one of their many shared gifts.
"Let's get you home and take good care of you, hmm?" Hoseok suggests.
Seokjin smiles and sends him a wink. It all seems innocuous enough, but Jimin can hear it in their voices—can see it in their eyes.
Jimin nods and lets himself smile. "Okay."
On their way out of the club, Jeongguk and Taehyung show up to take care of Jiyong's body. They say Yoongi sent them, and they both give Jimin a warm hug, which is a strange thing to receive from either of them, much less both.
The ride to Seokjin and Hoseok's house is short; Jimin disassociates from the moment they get into the car, with only the sound of the large metal gate at the end of the drive pulling him from his daze. A sedan sits parked in front of the garage, so Hoseok pulls up behind it and gets out. Before Jimin can reach for the handle, his door is pulled wide open, and Yoongi stands before him with his arms outstretched.
"Hyung," Jimin mutters. He pauses before exiting, then steps out of the vehicle and into Yoongi's embrace.
"I'm so sorry for all you have been put through, Jiminah," Yoongi says against the side of Jimin's head.
Jimin sighs and wraps his arms around Yoongi. Although he is grateful for so much care, he feels embarrassed by all the attention. The youngest two hugging him earlier was the final straw.
"It's fine," Jimin grumbles.
Yoongi backs from the hug but takes Jimin firmly by the shoulders with both hands. "It is not fine," he says, looking Jimin sternly in the eye. "I know you had feelings for him. And I know you are a softie who hates to kill. But you are not alone. Please do not ever feel like you have to do anything alone."
"I was afraid to ask because you wanted me to lay low, and I went against your word," Jimin confesses.
"Jiminah," Yoongi whines, knitting his eyebrow in frustration. "You know that no matter what, I will never be upset with you. I told you to lay low for your protection, but you are not a child. I trust you to do what you think needs to be done. Just please do not do everything by yourself. We are a family for a reason, and I am here for you, no matter what."
Jimin wiggles out of Yoongi's grasp and mutters, "Yes, hyung," as he attempts to follow Seokjin and Hoseok into their house, but Yoongi stops Jimin, grabbing his hand and giving him a gentle tug.
"One more thing," Yoongi mutters as Jimin turns to face him. Yoongi looks tired, like he hasn't slept since the last time Jimin saw him, and he wears a black tee with no button-up, which is concerning. Even in his own home, it is rare to find Yoongi dressed down in the middle of the day.
"What is it, boss?"
Yoongi sighs and nibbles on the inside of his mouth, crossing his arms over his chest. "Our darling knows you were the queen."
Anxiety drops to the pit of Jimin's stomach. "How—"
"She had a dream about the night she killed Seungri, and it was hard to hold back the fact that we knew all about the incident. She wanted to know how much we knew, so Namjoon and I took her to dinner and did our best to explain the events that led to that night. It...did not go very well."
"Oh."
"I do not think she is angry with you, but it is hard to say. But just be mindful of that, next time you see her. Maybe you two should have a conversation. I did not tell her much about your involvement; after a certain point she no longer wanted to listen."
Jimin swallows a lump and nods. Every inch of him tingles with anxiety, and he hates the idea of having to look her in the eye, knowing that she knows. He had planned to tell her eventually, but he was banking on not having to for a while longer—at least, not until he got to know her a little better. Curse Yoongi and his moments of kindness.
"Understood," Jimin mutters sullenly.
Yoongi wraps his arms around Jimin once more and gives him a kiss on the cheek, which causes Jimin to grimace and attempt to wiggle away.
"Everyone is so loving today," Jimin whines.
With a chuckle, Yoongi drops his arms from around Jimin. "The youngest two act like grumpy old men, so I have always kind of viewed you as our baby."
"Great," Jimin mutters as he rolls his eyes, though the thought of being the baby of the group does delight him quite a bit. Of course, he can never let them know that. "I'll lay low for real, this time. If dove needs space, then I can wait but if it seems like she wants to talk, let me know, and I can come right over."
Yoongi nods, flashes half a smile, and turns toward the path that connects his mansion with Seokjin's. With a final, fortifying breath, Jimin faces the house to find Seokjin standing in the doorway. His arms are crossed over his chest, but his body language is otherwise relaxed and patient—head leaning to the side against the door frame with one ankle crossed over the other. It feels oddly domestic to approach the man waiting for him in such a fashion, and Jimin hesitates before he takes a step forward.
When they were younger, back when Seokjin joined the group and was getting trained to be a family man, Jimin was the only one not sleeping with anyone within the group, to his estimation. Taehyung and Jeongguk never came out and said anything at the time, but there was an abrupt shift in their demeanors one day—a playfulness that Jeongguk rarely displayed with anyone else—that led Jimin to believe that something had been going on.
Seokjin quickly broke down Jimin's walls and his inclination toward avoiding platonic sex, and they spent a good two months exploring new depths of pleasure and pain, and waking up in each other's arms. And then Hoseok joined the team, and slowly, Seokjin began to replace his time with Jimin with his time with Hoseok.
At first, Jimin felt salty about it, but as he got to know Hoseok, he understood their bond. Not only do they come from affluent families, but they are both sadistic little freaks with a bloodlust, and a penchant for manipulation. Perfect for one another.
Over the years, there has been an open invitation for Jimin to join them in bed. And over the years, Jimin has nearly caved many times. But fucking one's friends is oftentimes messy, and Jimin has always worried about being the cause of some rift between bonds of irreplaceable men, potentially making Yoongi's life more difficult.
Not to mention, being his own top whore at Paradise has afforded him the ability to use others as a means to sexual needs and escape. So he has stayed out of their relationship.
But there has always been an inkling at the back of Jimin's mind—not only to see how Seokjin has changed over the years, but to discover what Hoseok is into, as well. Jimin has done well to keep his distance and stave off his curiosity, but today he is feeling rather vulnerable. Today he wants to experience subspace—something only Seokjin has ever helped him to accomplish.
As Jimin approaches the house and walks up the three concrete steps to the landing, Seokjin straightens his posture and holds out his arm.
"Hoseokie is fixing up a quick stew. Would you like me to draw you a bath, or would you like to stay as you are?"
Jimin considers it. A bath does sound nice, but he would rather not be alone with his thoughts right now. "I'll stay as I am."
"Wonderful," Seokjin responds as he lets his door fall closed behind them and secures two deadbolts. The smell of something hearty and rich hits Jimin's nose, making him suddenly aware of how hungry he is. Jimin toes out of his shoes and kicks them near the neatly stacked rows of shoes and boots, and Seokjin does the same with a giggle—as if he knows Hoseok will be displeased with his carelessness, and he finds it delightful.
Jimin leans into Seokjin's hold as they make their way through the living room to the kitchen. Most of the houses on the compound are the same. Open concept foyer, living room, and kitchen with spare rooms on the first level and stairs that lead up to bedrooms and bathrooms on both floors. Each house has more rooms than its occupant—or occupants—have a need for, so many of the homes have guest rooms, offices, gyms, libraries, and so on.
Seokjin and Hoseok have tailored several guest rooms to be sexual fantasy havens, decorated a certain way, and stocked with outfits and toys to suit that particular brand of fantasy. Hoseok is rather proud of his dollhouse room and has shown off pictures of pink walls and lavish furniture that appear as if the room had come straight out of a barbie dream house. Seokjin, on the other hand, brags most about his puppy playhouse, stocked full of harnesses and leashes, with various cages throughout.
It occurs to Jimin, as he is led to the kitchen, that he has not been back to this house since Hoseok moved in and began to decorate. There is a certain quality to the furnishings that gives the home a baroque feel—intricately hand-carved wood, gold leaf accents, and velvet upholstery. Count Dracula himself could have assisted with the interior design. Jimin smiles as he cranes his neck to see the various paintings and sconces on high, wainscotted walls.
In the dining area is a wooden table—as intricately hand-carved as everything else they own—that seats eight beside a wall of glass which overlooks a surprisingly minimalist garden. In the distance, Taehyung's mansion can be seen sticking out from a wall of tall shrubs and columnar trees. Just past the dining area, Hoseok is busy in a surprisingly modernly furnished kitchen with black marble counters and black steel appliances, dancing to a tune he hums while stirring a pot.
"Have a seat!" Hoseok calls over his shoulder, and Seokjin guides Jimin to the chair at the head of the table, muttering, "Guest of honor."
Jimin rounds the table and sits, then places his hands on the top of the hardwood and stares down at the mauve ceramic bowl and matte bronze utensils. He feels anxious and does his best to breathe deeply—in through his nose, pushing his belly out while keeping his shoulders down, and out through his mouth—to keep the swirl of panic that fights inside him at bay. Meanwhile, Seokjin is in the kitchen, presumably helping Hoseok while Jimin waits.
"Wine or soju, baby?" Hoseok asks.
"Or whiskey?" Seokjin suggests.
Jimin turns his head, glancing from the corner of his eye to find Seokjin leaning against the marble counter with his black sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His dark hair is pushed off his forehead today, and he looks absolutely stunning—but, then again, Seokjin always looks stunning.
"Soju is fine," Jimin responds with a soft smile, and watches as Seokjin straightens his posture and makes his way to the fridge. Then, Hoseok spins with a large, steaming pot in mauve oven-mitt-covered hands, and Jimin's eyes follow as he rounds their large marble island and brings the pot to the table.
Hoseok's wavy dark hair falls over his forehead, and after the pot is plopped onto a cloth pad in front of Jimin, Hoseok turns to him and winks, then straightens and makes his way back into the kitchen. Jimin stares ahead at the wafting steam as Seokjin and Hoseok come back and forth, bringing soju and side dishes before settling down.
"You happened to need comfort on a day that I was already planning to make short rib stew," Hoseok says cheerily. "I had everything prepped and simmering since this morning."
Seokjin serves Jimin a bowl while Hoseok fills everyone's glasses, and they dig in. The stew is hearty and does not pack too much spice or overwhelming flavor, which is exactly what Jimin's anxious stomach needs, and he feels grateful for his family men.
Dinner comes and goes in a bit of a daze. The food is delicious, but Jimin's appetite is not what it normally is, so he slurps and chews slowly while Seokjin and Hoseok hold conversation around him. It is nice, Jimin thinks, to be present without having to contribute much. He is not sure he is really in the mood to talk, but he enjoys hearing the back and forth of his hosts, even if he struggles to catch exactly what they are discussing.
After their meal, Seokjin clears the table while Hoseok fills their glasses with more soju. Jimin feels satisfied but not too full, and all the soju has helped relax him enough that the anxiety is at bay. Perhaps Seokjin and Hoseok being present has helped in that sense, too. Jimin is not entirely sure.
"What would you like, baby?" Hoseok asks. "We could relax in front of the television...or we could head upstairs and take your mind off everything in other ways."
Jimin is pulled from his thoughts—most of which are just spaced out staring into nothing—and blinks at Hoseok, who sits to his right with his chin cradled in his palm.
Hoseok continues, "We could relax in front of the television...or we could head upstairs and take your mind off everything in other ways."
"I'm not sure," Jimin admits. "But I could use a distraction...more than what the television might offer. What did the two of you have in mind?"
Hoseok grins, then bites his lip, humming and cocking his head as if in thought. "I've wanted to have you in our home for so long, I feel too overwhelmed with possibility to choose."
Warmth floods Jimin's neck and cheeks, and he flits his tongue out to wet his lips, watching as Hoseok's eyes follow the movement. "Same," he mutters softly, suddenly feeling shy.
"Well," Seokjin offers as he returns to the table and drapes himself over Hoseok's shoulders, "we could tie you up, whip you, and all that usual stuff. Or, we can take you into one of the doll rooms and dress you up like our pretty little princess, then punish you until you cry."
"Or, we can also go easy on him," Hoseok chides as he turns to look at Seokjin with a playful smile.
Seokjin shakes his head and, staring into Jimin's eyes, says, "Baby doesn't want us to go easy. Does he?"
"No," Jimin responds with a delicate shake of his head, still in disbelief that his conversation is happening. "I want to lose myself."
"What a delight to know some things never change," Soekjin says.
Jimin does not miss the way Hoseok's face lights up with delight. The wide, toothy grin sends a shiver down Jimin's spine, and he has to look away, gaze falling to the cup of soju before him. He picks it up and takes a gulp of the cool, bittersweet liquid, then sets it down.
"I know just the thing," Seokjin says as he stands up straight and holds his hand out to Jimin.
Jimin scoots his chair back from the table and stands, then takes Seokjin's hand. A gasp escapes him as Seokjin tugs him close, forcing him to stumble into his chest.
"Come this way, baby."
"Okay," Jimin mutters softly.
Hoseok stands and peers over Seokjin's shoulder. "Okay is an improper response for your hosts. What do you say to us, baby?"
Jimin knows this game—has played it many times with Seokjin before, and is absolutely unsurprised that Hoseok prefers the same.
"Yes, sir," he tries and is rewarded with another devious grin and a nod of Hoseok's head.
Jimin is led through the dining area, back through the living room, to a set of stairs beside the entrance, and then up. The master bedroom in these homes is a door at the end of the hall—a large room that takes up most of the second floor, but Jimin knows that he is not being taken there. Seokjin leads him to a large wooden door on the right.
As they approach, Hoseok takes the lead and keys in a passcode, which unlocks the door. When Hoseok walks in, dim lights flick on automatically, revealing a room with large, comfortable couches and chairs, a bed, and shelves upon shelves of sex toys—from impact toys to dildos and plugs, and more.
Everything is black and dark red, with bursts of yellow and red light glowing from beneath and behind furniture and stationary devices, with no lighting overhead. Hoseok walks to a large black sofa in the center of the room and sits on one of the far ends with his arm outstretched over the back.
"Go to Seokie, baby," Seokjin instructs, and Jimin mutters, "Yes sir," as he releases Seokjin's hand and makes his way to the couch, slotting himself beside Hoseok's open arm.
"Jinnie, bear, what did you have in mind for us, today?" Hoseok asks, craning his neck to follow Seokjin's movements through the room.
Seokjin stands before a large, dark armoire with a door swung open on the left side. Hanging from hooks on the inside of the door are various small toys, and Jimin immediately recognizes what Seokjin is reaching for because this is something they used to do together all those years ago.
Jimin shifts on the couch, feeling a wave of apprehension return as he watches Seokjin take a small silicon rod and begin to wipe it clean with a cleansing pad. Seokjin has always been meticulous with cleanliness and sterilization after play, but he always gives his toys and tools an additional swipe with a gentle cleanser before use.
With the door to the armoire wide open, Seokjin turns to the couch and raises an eyebrow at Jimin—a silent question.
Jimin nods, whispers, "Yes, sir," and swallows thickly while Hoseok's fingers dance over Jimin's shoulder, sending a tingle of comfort through him.
"Want to wear a collar for us, baby?" Hoseok offers.
Jimin does want to wear a collar, and he turns with wide, eager eyes and nods. "Yes, sir."
"We bought one just for you," Hoseok blurts out. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth before continuing. "I-if you'd like that one?"
"You bought me one?" Jimin asks, feeling affection burst and bloom in his chest.
"We've been waiting for you to join us," Hoseok admits, blushing pretty and nervous as his cheeks take on a slightly darker shade in the dim light.
Jimin feels overwhelmed with joy but also with regret. Some part of him always assumed that there was no place for him in their bed—that their invitations were a courtesy simply extended to the man Seokjin used to fuck, and nothing more.
Hoseok scoots to the edge of the couch and slides himself away from Jimin, then he makes his way to the same armoire Seokjin stands near. From a drawer on the right side, Hoseok produces a black, rectangular box, then he stands on his toes and kisses Seokjin on the cheek before returning to Jimin, sitting beside him on the edge of the sofa with his body angled in and their knees touching.
Jimin waits eagerly as Hoseok opens the box, revealing a very thin black leather collar with pale pink metal o rings hanging from various points around the length. Jimin's breath gets caught in his throat as tears well in his eyes, and he looks up to Hoseok, then to Seokjin, and back at the choker.
"This is—" Jimin begins, but his words get caught. "Thank you."
"Your hair was that pretty pale pink back when we bought it," Seokjin says as he approaches with a small silicon toy in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other.
Jimin smiles and runs an index finger over the hoops. His hair was pale pink when he met Hoseok, which means—
"You bought this for me that long ago?"
Hoseok hums and smiles softly. "We always wanted you to come to us, baby."
"I'm sorry," Jimin mutters quietly before he can stop himself.
Seokjin tuts his tongue and sits on the couch beside him. "Nonsense. We knew you would come when you were ready. Well, we hoped, anyway."
Hoseok interjects, "Admittedly, we did get a little jealous every time you brought some new guy around. We began to wonder if you held a grudge."
Gently, Hoseok removes the collar from the box and holds it up to Jimin's throat with a smile. As he wraps the thin leather around Jimin's neck and leans in closely to tighten it, Jimin breathes in Hoseok's floral, musky scent. The cold metal hoops kiss his skin and cause goosebumps to break over his arms.
"Perhaps a little," Jimin admits softly. "I guess for a while, I felt replaced."
Hoseok finishes clasping the collar, then sits back and gently takes Jimin's face in his hands. His pretty lips are downturned in a frown as he says, "I'm so sorry, baby."
"We have you here now, and that is all that matters," Seokjin says as he gets onto his knees on the floor.
Jimin straightens out and sits back on the couch while Seokjin crawls between his knees, and Hoseok's hands slide from Jimin's face, down to his neck, and to his chest. Seokjin sets the items in his hand beside Hoseok, then places both hands on Jimin's knees and rubs them up to his thighs. The warmth of Seokjin's hands and the distant but familiar sight of him looking up at Jimin from between his legs stir up myriad emotions.
Seokjin leans forward and, with a smirk, finds the end of one of the strings on Jimin's pants with his teeth. Jimin's breath hitches as Seokjin gazes up at him through his lashes and begins to slowly sit back, untying Jimin's leather pants using only his mouth. Jimin finds himself panting as Seokjin runs his hands down and up his thighs, then further, to his waist.
"Let's get you out of these," Seokjin purrs with a smile. "As much as I love the sight of you in leather."
Jimin nods, already feeling a bit dazed, and he lifts his hips as Seokjin gathers the waistband of his pants and briefs and tugs them down, past his thighs. Seokjin pulls, forcing Jimin's legs straight up in the air and he slides down in a slouching position, giggling softly as his hands grip the edge of the cushions for stability.
Rather than free Jimin's legs from the leather pants, Seokjin stops with Jimin's knees restrained and his legs standing tall, and rubs down the backs of Jimin's bare thighs, spreading him slightly. Jimin gasps and struggles to hold himself in position as Seokjin's fingers tease near his balls and down to his ass.
"Hyung," Jimin whines, though for what he whines, he is unsure.
Hoseok helps Jimin by sitting high on his knees beside him and tugging at the pants, freeing his legs. As soon as Jimin's feet fall free from the fabric, his legs spread, and Seokjin takes advantage of the position and pushes his thighs open, spreading him wide. Jimin hardly has a chance to adjust before Seokjin's warm, wet tongue is pressing and laving against his half-hard length.
A breathy whimper punches from Jimin's lungs, and he shivers as Seokjin leaves sloppy, wet kisses along his thighs and groin in no discernable rhythm or pattern. Jimin slowly, gently lowers his legs and attempts to sit up and get more comfortable, but Seokjin presses Jimin's hips firmly into the couch, and Hoseok removes the cushion behind him, slowly lowering him onto his back. The couch is far deeper than Jimin realized when he sat, and he nearly distracts himself by wondering how thick those cushions are, but the sound of a lube bottle snapping open instantly dissolves all thought.
"Have you sounded since doing it with me?" Seokjin asks.
Jimin shakes his head, then remembers Seokjin probably can't see the movement and says, "No, sir."
"We'll go nice and slow, baby," Hoseok says as he pets Jimin's hair. "Just tell us what you need, okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"And if you go non-verbal and need me to stop?" Seokjin asks as he drags his teeth over the soft flesh of Jimin's inner thigh.
"Clap my hands, sir," Jimin whimpers as the idea of becoming so high from pleasure that he might lose his ability to speak tingles through him.
"Good baby," Seokjin and Hoseok say in tandem, sending a wave of arousal and excitement crashing over Jimin all at once.
All Jimin wants is to be so good for them that he breaks and becomes a shell of himself—a vessel for nothing but pleasure. Jimin does not reach that level of high with anyone else. Not with his now-dead ex, and certainly never with his clients.
His achievement of subspace relies heavily on not only his level of trust but also on the unique types of pain that he has only explored with Seokjin. He found out about subspace by chance with Seokjin and has never allowed anyone to come close since.
Jimin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, relaxing into the couch as best as he can while Seokjin gathers his cock and gently holds it in his hand, pointed straight up. Jimin prefers to sound while only partially erect, and he tries only to think of things that will stop him from becoming too hard, replaying the visual of alertness draining from his exes eyes as the laced cocaine pulled him from consciousness.
Remembering the murder that had taken place mere hours ago is probably a mistake, and Jimin nearly begins to spiral and panic. But then the blunt tip of a small, silicon rod begins to enter the hole of his cock, and Jimin returns to reality. Seokjin is so painfully slow that as Jimin's eyes fly open and he stares up at the ceiling, all thoughts that had previously plagued him are wiped clean.
The stretch of his urethral opening is a familiar sting Jimin does his best to adjust to, and he gasps and claws at the couch as he tells himself over and over silently to breathe, just breathe, in slowly and out just as slowly, breathe, breathe, breathe.
"Does it hurt, baby?" Hoseok asks as he gently pets Jimin's hair.
"Yes, sir," Jimin manages through clenched teeth.
"Color?" Seokjin asks, stilling his movement but keeping the silicon inserted.
In the past, they always used the stoplight safeword system, where green signals for Seokjin to keep going and red signals for him to stop.
"Green, sir," Jimin responds, almost desperately.
Seokjin continues to slowly press in, stretching Jimin open with the small tool. The feeling no longer stings, but it does feel intrusive in a way that makes him want to squirm and claw and fight. It also feels so good—so unbelievably, incomprehensibly good—that Jimin trembles and sinks and does his best to disappear completely.
"You're doing so good for us, pretty baby," Hoseok says sweetly, running his hand over Jimin's clothed chest, grazing his fingertips over a nipple and sending sparks through him.
"Th-thank you, sir."
The pressure in Jimin's cock evens out, and Jimin tilts his head to find that the sounding rod has been completely inserted, with nothing but a little black loop sticking out from his tip. Jimin drops his head back to the couch and lets out a deep exhale. Already, he feels tingly and breathless—light as a feather on the breeze.
"I'm going to stretch you open a fuck you now," Hoseok mutters into Jimin's ear, making Jimin gasp. "Does that sound good to you, baby?"
"Yes, sir."
"And if we completely lose you to subspace, what should we do?" Seokjin asks.
"Continue to fuck me," Jimin mutters with a smile. "Use me until you're done and clean me up."
"You're sure about that?" Hoseok asks as his teeth graze over Jimin's throat.
Jimin has never been so sure of anything in his life. "Yes, sir," he whimpers desperately. He trusts them with his life.
A lube-slick hand strokes Jimin's cock, and his sense of reality cracks. The pleasure feels so intense with the sounding rod snug inside him, that all he can do is gasp and continue to weakly claw at the cushion below him.
Jimin hardly recognizes the weight on the couch shift, nor his upper half being lifted enough to tug the shirt over his head before his back is returned to the warm, soft cushion.
When Jimin's legs are spread and a long, slick finger is prising him open, he realizes that he is lying fully on the couch—that he has been shifted around entirely. Punchdrunk on dizzying euphoria, all Jimin can comprehend is what his body feels; nothing else in the world exists.
And when a warm, wet mouth engulfs his cock at the same time as two fingers stretch him open, Jimin fades completely from his body and floats to the ceiling.
For the first time in years, Jimin feels the warm, peaceful hug of subspace, and he is totally and completely gone. His body and mind and trusted solely to these two handsome devils, and he is completely at their mercy.
thank you so much for reading!!! i hope you enjoy these extras. i lament only writing from one point of view, so these have been a lot of fun for me. hopefully it’s not too confusing plopping them into the story as early as chapter 10.
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#jimin mafia#jimin angst#jimin smut#seokjin mafia#hoseok mafia#yoongi mafia#bts mafia#bts angst#bts smut#bts poly#fic: collateral#Spotify
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FINALLY ALONE
💕Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
✏️Genre/au: Complicated relationships, Yandere, Mafia AU
✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit
📝Wordcount: 5511
⚠️Warnings: Explicit smut, cumplay (sort of), murder, death threats, obsession, yandere(?)
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Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write ��
This one-shot is inspired by a story that I'm writing, called: Sandman. There's another one, also inspired on Sandman, called: Staggering and Golden hour
I will post Sandman only for paid members once it's finished. (Memberships won't be available until I the story is completed)
Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)
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Jimin shifted over the grey satin sheets, under his velvety covers, as you scrolled through your phone and you looked at his beautiful features from your bed. The white moon in the sky sneaked inside the room through the translucent white curtains, illuminating his side, with its candour.
You could hear Seokjin at the other side of the hallway working on his computer while his father gave him some indications through the speaker mode of his smartphone. You made sure to not focus, on the dead silence that reigned in the house, but still got hints of quantities of packages entering the frontiers of South Korea through Busan, to test. Exactly what you didn't want to hear.
Suddenly, you heard a hanger fall on your closet and you instinctively reached for the gun under your pillow. It then came to your mind, that you had put that multilayer dress in a plastic hanger because you needed to purchase new ones. You rolled your eyes to the spoiling Seokjin was doing to you, soon you would not be able to fit a needle in your closet, if he continued. You let go of the weapon and laid back from your ready position. Jimin was unbothered in his slumber and once more, you thought it just made sense that you were his guardian.
You were asleep by the time Seokjin checked in the room and whispered a goodnight. Everything seemed fine although if he had detected the closet door cracked open, and went to check it, he would have discovered the intruder.
Taehyung waited for a bit after he heard Seokjin close the quarters' door to sneak out. The dress you had heard fall was left behind on its spot, to match the sound that was very likely heard from the outside. His knees silently landed at the side of your bed as he observed the same rays that previously enhanced Jimin's ethereal image, doing favours to yours.
He would have touched you if he didn't know that was certainly going to wake you up. Instead, he just stayed there in that same position, watching you sleep for the next two hours; until slumber started to make his lids feel too heavy to keep them open.
Just like that, he walked out of your room through the corridor, towards the other end. He opened another room and looked inside to another sleeping figure. His eyes displayed darkness, a silent death threat and his knuckles turned white over the clear wood structure. Making use of his skills he slid out of the house undetected, giving one last look to your window.
.
He lies in bed while tears stream down his temples. Just like they did as he knelt in front of your peaceful figure, your image engraved on his retina like a favourite movie. One that he will most likely never see again in broad daylight. Not while Seokjin breathed down his neck on every corner, on every shadow.
You are the one and only thing they seem to have in common. The same obsession, the same desire. Yet it is Seokjin who chases at his heels and not the other way around.
If he had only not scared you off in the tunnels that day. If he would have walked beside you past Seokjin as the eldest hid to smoke near the access, maybe you wouldn't have looked at him so much after. Maybe your heart wouldn't have been taken. Maybe you wouldn't have been yearning for the man's love to the point of accepting him when he had turned into someone undeserving of it.
Maybe you would have started reading together with Jimin. Maybe he wouldn't have followed Seokjin and then The Hitman. Maybe he wouldn't have helped burn the school down. Maybe you wouldn't have set the first match that turned the place into hell for the caretakers tied inside. Maybe you wouldn't have carried the burden of four deaths with you at the age of ten. Maybe, you wouldn't have accepted the training and wouldn't have thought that was what you were meant to do. Maybe, he wouldn't have been so eager for his father to let him join. Maybe you and him wouldn't have your hands so stained with blood.
If only he hadn't spooked you out.
Those maybes could be certainties, and now, you would be lying at his side in his lonely room, with a ring on your finger that would prevent Seokjin from ever getting so close to you.
The tears are followed by sobs. His wail can be heard from the outside of his room, where a guard sits on a bench against the wall and looks in his direction. Namjoon, the early bird of the house, also hears it and walks his way down the hallway to stand in front of the door.
His brother’s broken heart dwells in his and a single tear falls from his left eye as he stands there; knowing he is unable to console the pain Taehyung is suffering.
He doesn't knock since he will not accept a no, simply walking inside finding his brother curled hugging himself as the torment of his soul keeps on escapes through his vocal cords and the wells of his eyes.
"Have you gone to see her?" he asks calmly. Although a fury in him wants to slap his brother for risking his life, he is well aware that his brother is a prisoner of love and the recklessness that comes with it.
Taehyung's only response is to sit down with pained eyes and continue his mourning by putting his forehead against Namjoon's chest. His hands hold feeble against his brother’s firm shoulders, making the hurricane he once was feel now like a breeze from a butterfly's wings.
.
"Good evening, Taehyung." says a calm voice behind him as he reads the manga book in his hand. His eyes bulge and he takes a second to start turning around, slowly in his garden chair. He leaves the closed book on the glass table in front of him.
His brother stands next to Seokjin, the one whose voice it was impossible not to recognise. His gaze dances between Namjoon's apologetic eyes and the man who's kept him on the run for eleven months and now stands no more than six feet from him as if nothing had happened. The urge to look at you at his side, dressed in cream with transparent sleeves, it's almost unbearable but he lets himself take the full picture instead; discreetly getting your image translated to his brain. He can't dare to focus on you, not without knowing the conditions of this visit, not if it means he can lose you as a consequence. Not again.
"Darling, why don't we go to my gallery, I have new pieces I would love to show you." Namjoon says, distracting you.
You were indeed watching Taehyung, who has a new haircut and has finally taken the black as an option. He looks skinnier, that's what's kept your interest the few moments you have been allowed to observe and your heart blossoms with worry. You feel the need to nourish him, to take care of him, making sure he is ok. However, you know that's not a possibility right now, so you move at the second Namjoon speaks.
Taehyung involuntarily responds to the movement and watches you walk next to his brother towards the house. Then immediately jumps back at Seokjin, who looks at him with a smirk, inclining his head in your direction and asks, "She looks prettier by the day, doesn't she?"
Taehyung, knows its best not to answer and keeps quiet. "Smart." mutters Seokjin before advancing. "I was thinking I maybe exceeded myself with the consequences of your actions. At the end of the day, I did invite you to our bed and maybe wasn't clear enough with what was expected." he says as he takes one of the chairs and sits down, then motions for Taehyung to join him.
"I do not intend to share Amnon. Ever. Now, I think that much has been left clear." he says as if a death threat was no big deal and Taehyung can only nod with a very tense jaw. "What I need to know, and that is to let you walk free again, is if you can live up to that agreement?"
Taehyung doesn't respond immediately and that makes Seokjin raise a brow, "I'm not a subject of yours, I never was." he points out, acknowledging his status. "But as it is stated in the unspoken rules, no associate shall touch a partner's wife or girlfriend. I live up to those rules. Back in the day I just thought you consented to it."
Seokjin chuckles, "-hm, yeah. I guess you do." he says calmly but then gets closer to Taehyung's face. "However, I know you have always wanted her. I'm not blind." 'Neither are the cameras in my house, little tiger.' "That, I hope, for your sake, has dropped while you were in excommunicado status. Maybe running around has kept you occupied enough—For the last ten months."
Taehyung's jaw almost drops when he realises what the knowing look and the wrong month count means. He can only nod. Seokjin then smiles, although his eyes are the darkness that will keep Taehyung on his toes. Or so he thinks.
.
"Sweetheart?" says Jimin as he opens the door of his two story house and your tear stained face shows in front of him. You immediately hug him and he holds you pulling you inside the house. "Is he dead?" he says, voice cracking with emotion.
"I am." you pronounce, letting go of him, allowing your body to slide down his dark hardwood door. He squats in front of you.
"You have broken up with him…" he says and his voice sounds just as strained as it did before. "I don't want to feel." you mutter, letting your head fall backwards and your pain exit your body in hopeless sobs.
Next thing you know, he is dialling Jungkook asking for something to amuse you. He asks you to move the pity party to his comfortable living room.
As you follow him in, your eyes take in the precious view of his decor. Moulded walls with tonal murals in the upper part extend throughout the hallways. While in most rooms, although maintaining the aesthetic, there are no paintings. In fact, the whole house is mostly decorated in neoclassical style with soft blues, cream and golds with really luxurious details like chandeliers that make the whole place look like a palace. The seating is simple, against the more rigidly decorated furniture, but it's comfortable, and soft to the touch. Jimin has fake fur blankets draped all around the house and is also a fan of cushions. The whole place is a dream.
To add to it, and in contrast with the initial decoration, he has natural looking additions as if Mother nature was taking over his house; making the whole place look like it's out of a fairytale. The room you usually use, has a branch coming out of the wall, by the window seat, and purple crystal details hang from it. The rest of the room matches what is pictured in the whole house but each room is themed.
Yours has wallpaper inside the upper panel with bits of a foggy forest in a hundred-eighty degree view. You started calling it "The Witches Room" and everyone does now. The four post bed's linen is normally grey and purple matching the crystals, and that's exactly what you expect whenever night comes today.
.
You aren't sure what Jungkook has mixed in the whiskey he served you, but you are definitely high. All of you are.
You have taken residency over the carpet in front of Jimin’s glass-closed fireplace and the tears fall as you roll in laughter. Truth be told, you are much higher than them but yet again they have snorted a bit, so it's just an illusion of sobriety.
At some point, Jimin is on Jungkook’s lap and they are kissing. Their lips unite gently, soft skins moist with the liquidy nectar of their mouths and you can only watch it like you would a miracle. 'Bless this damn bisexual man.' you scream internally.
Growing with them hasn't made you insensitive to their beauty and you used to fantasise about kissing them as a teenager. Maybe even situations like this in which the kiss would escalate between the three of you. It was all fantasy, of course. At the end of the day, the only guy you wanted to turn that into reality with, was Seokjin.
The laugh turns into a sob and you roll to your side, silencing yourself to not disturb, looking at the flames.
"What can we do for you, sweetheart?" mutters Jungkook when Jimin parts from the kiss and looks at you. He also moves from over him and both crawl to your side.
"Don't let-" Jungkook’s phone interrupts you and Jimin scowls at him. "I have to answer, it's him." he mutters and you roll back from looking at them to your foetal position. Jimin starts rubbing your arm affectionately as you try to disconnect. "Boss.-I-Yeah." He stands and walks outside, down the hallway.
"He's going to tell him where I am. I have to leave." you say, standing with difficulty.
"Amnon-"
"I don't want to see him. I know what I want but he can sell glasses to a blind person. I fear I'll cave in this state." you explain, taking hold of your own weight against a chair.
"You can't drive like this, let my chauffeur drive you." says Jimin, looking at one of his guards in the hallway.
The man walks in and takes the order directly from Jimin's lips. You know they do listen to what you say but they simply have to act like they don't, out of respect.
"He asked if she was here." says Jungkook approaching Jimin as he waves goodbye from the porch, with a cardigan over his grey silk pyjamas. Jungkook does the same and sighs, but Jimin looks at him inquisitively. "You know how much of a bad idea it is to lie to him. Your brother does not listen to reason when it comes to her…" he replies as the car makes it to the main road off of the property.
"I know," he mutters. "I'm glad she decided to get out of the house before he comes… that relationship has to end. It's not good for anyone." Jimin says with a really low tone, turning on the coffee machine as they enter the kitchen, putting in a capsule for Jungkook, after showing it to him.
"One of them will end up dead if they keep it going, I'm sure of it." responds Jungkook and Jimin scowls at him. "They don't always think clearly being around each other… In this business-"
"I- I know. That is what I'm telling you. It has to end. " Jimin mutters, looking at the hallway to the guards, as if he was of a controversial opinion.
At the same time, you are driven to the city with no destination, like you have asked the driver.
The lights, the people walking the streets, it feels like you are watching a movie through the windows of the car. Your head rests against the cold tinted glass as you observe them, imagining their lives; the old woman with her son, buying the last presents for their visiting family members, maybe for their in-laws, since he seems to wear a ring. The couple with matching winter clothing, with their bags full of decorations sticking out, smiling to each other make you sink down in your seat and lean back against the headrest, letting silent tears fall and how this break up took place comes to mind.
You were decorating the house with Seokjin's assistant when it finally hit you. The feeling in your gut, that one stirring every now and then while being around Seokjin for the last couple of months finally making sense.
You walked down the ladder, placed to reach the top of the tree to put the star, and sat over the biggest present box, looking at nothing specifically. Had it been how he treated Taehyung that afternoon, when he came to bring presents to add to the tree or that you were simply over it all? His overprotective and controlling attitude, although not forceful, had finally gotten to you.
The simple thought of having to spend Christmas with him and his associates was making the floor move under your feet and you felt like you were going to faint. It had to be over. Finally, with the calmness of decorating it came to you. The anger, the sorrowful feeling of being distrusted and thought unwise to make certain decisions, was finally bigger than your love for him.
The whole argument after Taehyung had kissed your forehead and squeezed your arm the day before, was tiring beyond measure and you hadn't even fought back this time. You simply had fallen silent and stared at him blankly, and his discomforts fell silent too.
You had left the room without a word, with a prudential time for him to speak again and before he left to take care of business, you only so briefly said goodbye to him. He had looked at you and noticed the dying feelings inside of you, but he was in a rush, couldn't stay to hunt down the truth. Bad luck.
Just like that, you chugged down half a liquor bottle from the mini fridge between the seats and asked the driver to take you to Kim's Manor. Uncalled, without heads up, you were standing, slightly unsteady, in the main entrance without an escort, twenty minutes later.
The housekeeper almost lost it when he saw you, his eyes bulged and he quickly moved away to help you get on a pair of slippers. Namjoon's over the top courtesy. No wonder his lovers had dreamy eyes whenever they were around; Princess treatment can feel really good.
"I'll let the master know you are here," he said, with urgency.
"No need, I haven't come to see Namjoon," you told him, making him gasp.
There were only two masters in the house and it happened that being near you almost got one of them killed. Or at least, having to play hide and seek for a good while.
"Missis, I-" he tried to speak but you could sense the internal fight between his own feelings of protecting his beloved master and the proper treatment of a family friend.
"Do your duty but I'll show myself the way," you said as you walked in and up the right set of stairs, to Taehyung's bedroom.
He wasn't sleeping, if you were honest, you didn't expect him to be and you wouldn't have come if you did. It was early for him. He was in bed, playing a game on his phone, wearing full silk pyjamas with a robe and soft Christmas socks. You were right of course, he raised his eyes from his phone first as the door opened, then left his phone aside when he saw you enter. You locked the door. With no particular plan, just for privacy.
He sat criss-cross over the bed and you leaned on the door. "I have broken up with Seokjin. I was at Jimin's but he was coming over… I know I shouldn't be here," It all suddenly hits you, the consequences, how thoughtless you have been. It isn’t over, not until Seokjin said so, he was going to the house to mend things and you should have stayed to keep your ground. It wasn’t until you voiced it that you realised you had made the worst possible decision. Taehyung isn't just your childhood best friend but also Seokjin's nemesis, in his eyes. Your heart starts beating faster.
"It's okay," Taehyung objects, paralysing all your thoughts.
"No it's not," speaks the voice of reason from inside you, through your vocal cords. You turn to try to unlock the door and seek Namjoon, before a misunderstanding can reach a fatal ending.
You had forgotten how long Taehyung's legs are, until he has reached you and closed the inch-wide crack you have managed to open. "Don't leave now," he mutters. "Please," he begs, causing you to turn around in the few inches of space he has left for your body.
"Taehyung, I-" you can’t say more. His lips are on yours, soft and gentle yet the way he breathes through his nose and how he lets his head fall on your left shoulder right after speaks love letters of contained passion.
"I love you," he mutters, voice cracked and tears starting to dampen your clothed skin.
The breath gets caught in your throat, as if seeing your life pass before your eyes, every little moment of closeness you have had with Taehyung until that very moment that ruined everything, played backwards in your mind. Your heart jolted. Seokjin's fears were true. Your indulgence with Taehyung, the tenderness you felt for him, the need to care, the fact you allowed him in Seokjin's bed and were always advocating for him to be forgiven, all translated to one simple sentence, "I love you too." Not childlike love and not only friendship love, not even just that pure and genuine love of wanting the best for each other. Love that makes you grip his robe to keep his body close. You have always done that, never wanted him too far from you.
Always pulling the hugs a little bit longer, always wanting him to stay, always wanting him near. Always lingering on his beautiful features and lying to yourself with the thought that you wanted a good girl for him. Always looking away when he kissed someone else, on the pretext of giving him privacy, yet feeling a slight twinge in your chest and telling yourself it was normal. You didn't want your friend to be taken away from you. Unaware that because you never had been given reasons to be jealous with Seokjin or simply trusting him, that would have been the feeling it would awaken in his case too. Unaware that you didn't just enjoy the view of Adonis Seokjin fucking another man but that you also enjoyed the view of Taehyung being taken. That it was the view of both men thaw had you wet and touching yourself with passion, even to the memory of it.
You quickly pulled him against you. The strange dizziness and clairvoyance of the drug mix making you feel slightly out of your mind. "Fuck me, Taehyung, I fucking love you how could I be so blind?"
He kisses you and pulls you against his chest, "Don't blame yourself now," he mutters against your hairline.
"Fuck me," you whisper, feeling his back and then groping his buttocks. You move away to meet his eyes, palms against his abdomen, "I feel like I have missed a lifetime of having you inside of me," you say, landing an accepted kiss from an astonished Taehyung, hands running all over him.
"Slow down baby, you are drunk," he says gently, grabbing your wrists and pulling away.
"And high, but it doesn't make it less true." you say looking at him devilish and then biting your lower lip.
"Oh wow, then I'm definitely not doing this," he says, letting go of your wrists and getting as further away from you as possible, reaching for the intercom at his nightstand. "Wyatt, can you get a room ready for the lady please, she's unwell," you hear him say and he has to hang up at the moment he feels you kissing his manhood over the clothes. "Good lord," he groans to the ceiling, before doing the right thing and walking away again. "You have to stop," he urges, seeing you crawl in his direction and you act the brat by lying on your back with your arms crossed. Pout included.
"Tomorrow or past it, when you are sober and fresh, if you still feel like doing these exact same things, I'll surrender to your will. I will please you with any means necessary," he says, squatting next to you.
You can only succumb to the capricious nature of the alcohol and drug. There over the floor, with its fluffiness you grumble and lie on your side, "I have just embarrassed myself, haven't I?"
"Further from the truth," he says, "I'm happy if this is the true level of comfort you feel with me but I can’t be sure you're not uninhibited right now."
.
You wake up foreign to the bed you are in, panicking until you realise where you are. The room is modernly decorated and although it has a forest painted on the tall wall against the bed's headrest, it looks nothing like Jimin's house. This one has hardwood floors and ceilings, keeping the warm aesthetic all the private areas of the house have. The top to bottom windows let in the light and the view of the gardens, but they also have blinds. The ones you forgot to draw last night.
You turn on your other side with no use, because you are already too awake. The sound of the toilet being flushed startles you to look in that direction and Taehyung slides the door to the ensuite open a few seconds later, shirtless. "Sorry," his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Have I woken you?"
"No-no, the sun did," you mutter confused, unable to remember last night, nor even how you ended up sleeping here. You wear nothing but a jumper and your panties, and apprehension takes over. If you have slept with him, you would like to remember it. You feel tension at the pit of your stomach, an awful dread of having experienced him but being unable to recover the events or what you felt, what it felt like. Your eyes redden with unfallen tears and your cracked voice says aloud, "Have we-?"
"Oh nononono-" Taehyung waves his hands in front of his body, distracting you from the thought. "I had a bit of a time to make you understand you were too intoxicated, but I helped you get to sleep. Nothing more than that." It's in that last sentence that his tone betrays him. You have always known when he lies. It's as if you knew every chord of his melody and were able to spot a single tone moved in it.
"Taehyung-"
"I killed Seokjin." he says with a monotone, as if not accepting it has happened. Your eyes bulge and you feel your heart slow down, a tear falling from your left eye but unable to process the whole meaning of it; in a sudden void. You can’t find words to express anything because your mind goes blank, yet your mouth opens slightly as if you want to say something.
"It was an accident." he finally speaks again in what has felt like time stopping, making you gasp as you snap out of your stupor. "That's why we are here. That's why we are not in my room. There was blood on the rug. On the bed too. Yes, also on the floor." the way his voice stays to a monotone while he looks to a spot on the floor, as he speaks, tells you he is in shock. "The service was cleaning it a few hours ago. I just-" he then looks at you. "I didn't dare to enter." He then seems to realise, "That's not important. I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to kill him, he came at me with a gun, I had the shower on, he thought you were in it-That we had sex, then-then everything went so fast. I didn't even have time to think! I just reacted-Like we were trained-I didn't think! How could I not think!?" he frantically explains, starting to pull his hair forcefully in distress.
You rush out of the bed, making sure to move his hands away to restrain him from damaging his scalp. "Taehyung, stop." you whisper, taking him in your arms. "It was self-defence… you just knew how to save yourself better. But, you were just surviving, nothing else." you shush him, although you are only pushing away whatever comes with his revelation, numb to the feeling. Not truly calm. Not fit for advice.
Once again, lust answers at the nonsense and you kiss on his neck. "Amnon-" he whispers with a husk in his voice.
"Please…" you whisper against his skin.
He succumbs this time, grabbing your ass as you work with your mouth on his pulsepoint. He doesn't stop you, when your mouth slides down his torso and his breath falters beautifully at your advances. This time he doesn’t know what to do with his hands when you kiss him over his trousers. He was half hard already but the gesture, when you don't move your lips away, makes you feel him grow to his full mast.
His hands grip your shoulders, pulling up and you oblige to stand, eyes trailing your features and the lines of your body as you do. They stop at your core for a second and his head falls backwards as he grunts.
When he looks at you again his eyes are full of lust, "Are you sure about this?" he takes the caution not to mention Seokjin again, the one thing that can be an obstacle, for its obviousness.
You respond physically first, sitting on the bed and letting your upper body fall, the jumper exposing a bit of tummy with the stretched movement.
When he moves, he does slow but when his hands touch you everything seems to take a hurricanes pace. He kisses, he bites, your lips, your neck, your chest, your abdomen, your thighs, until you are a flooded pool of desire, vibrating with need for him. Although, it is when his mouth and tongue take possession of your nub that you feel like you are meant to be like this. When you cum, you feel like you are floating in the sky.
The nakedness of his member makes you surround him with your legs, and you can already tell he is just as eager to be inside of you as you want him. It slides strongly against your walls as you press your chest against his, hugging him with your whole body as he enters you.
There's no closeness enough now that he is with you like this. You feel like you want to fuse with him, get inside of his body, in a different way that he is in yours, feel his blood flow in your veins. The next need is so over the top, the way you visualise your bodies melting together that you wonder if the drugs are still playing part in the experience.
Breathing fast under his body with his abdomen against yours, you feel your ecstasy flow through your body like burning magma of joy. "Taehyuuung!" you scream as your hands reach to the bed to grab on the sheets underneath. He chuckles but doesn't stop moving, frenetic with sensations. Then he feels it rushing, almost unexpected and pulls out spilling over your belly as he keeps stroking with his hand. You giggle, out of your mind.
"Look at your pretty cum…" you mutter, touching the splurts that have reached your ribs, extending it. You do think what you said, it's white and has spilled in drops like painting, except for the accumulation in your belly button. "You had a lot in you, didn't you?" you ask, meeting his eyes.
He looks astonished but pleased with his lips parted. "I'm sorry." he says and rushes to the bathroom with large steps, coming out with wet wipes to clean you. So careful, so sweet, you close your eyes and let him do it, even when he cleans on your slit, where a first spill had left dripping remnants.
"You didn't need to apologise," you say as he throws the last wipe on the bin next to that side's nightstand. "I love you," You say, as he looks you in the eyes. "your seed too."
"I love you too…" he lets out a breath, walking to meet you on the bed, hugging you abruptly. "I would do anything for you. Anything…" he says in the same tone against your head.
.
You don't remember falling asleep but in your slumber, not wanting to wake up, you feel Taehyung's breath at the side of your face that doesn't touch the pillow you lie on. He is caressing your shoulder, sliding down through your arm and coming back, slowly, again and again. You almost smile and turn to hug him but you hear him whisper, "We are finally alone," in a way that makes your skin crawl.
Then you remember, Seokjin didn’t come armed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~
Work beta read by @pars-ley and @abitjess 💜
© 2021-2022 Cherry Soulth, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.
#bts smut#bts au fic#bts angst#taehyung x reader#taehyung x oc#taehyung x you#taehyung au#taehyung angst#Taehyung mafia#Seokjin mafia#taehyung smut#yandere#yandere taehyung
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Fool's Gold || Part I
Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.
Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader
Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au
Word Count: 10k
Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. violence, blood, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses
<< masterlist || next part >>
“I heard that she’s a complete airhead.”
Jungkook’s expensive shoes smacked against the pristine white and gold marble floors as he continued to walk through the lavish hallway, hands disappearing behind his pockets while his steps were slow and confident. Most would think he was choosing to ignore the comment, but his closest friend knew better than to rush a man as calculating as Jungkook.
Instead, Taehyung strolled alongside him, taking in the glittering chandeliers looming over their heads and the intricate designs carved into the white walls that were much too traditional for his taste. Jungkook and Taehyung were nowhere near out of place in the sea of extravagance with their custom suits and shiny black dress shoes. Taehyung, the more simple of the two, had his brown hair parted and pushed back to reveal a blemish free forehead while his grey and black suit complimented the grey specks in his brown irises.
On the other hand, Jungkook’s black on black outfit adorned two expensive cufflinks and a gold brooch attached to his lapel. Taehyung’s gaze dropped to his black hair, which he noticed had grown in the past month.
When Taehyung realised that Jungkook wasn’t going to speak, he decided to fill the silence.
“Like apparently she’s huge on wearing pink and frilly stuff -which I guess is just a girl thing- but still, this is a mafia not a tea party.”
He paused, waiting for his comrade to offer his thoughts, but was met with silence once again.
“I’ve also heard she’s dumber than a pile of rocks. Barely passed high school and then dropped out of university not even a month in. Her major wasn’t even that hard. Commerce, was it?”
Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as Jungkook continued to lengthen the silence.
“And as you already must know, she was also married about a year ago but then was widowed after her husband was killed by a rival gang on the same day. Even though their marriage didn’t even last a full 24 hours, she had been so traumatised by the whole thing that apparently she didn’t even speak for an entire month after the ordeal. Can you imagine how much of a princess she must be for a simple death to shake her that much? She must be a real- come on man, how long are you going to make me go on?”
Jungkook turned his head to offer him a sly grin, “I was wondering when you would reach your limit.”
Taehyung gave him a halfhearted punch to the arm, “you’re such a jerk. Answer my question man. I’m dying to know what she’s actually like.”
He followed Jungkook as he turned into another hallway, curious as to what he thought of her, but his answer had him staring at Jungkook incredulously.
“I don’t know.”
Taehyung faltered in his step, gaping at the back of the man who continued through the hallway nonchalantly. When the weight of his answer finally processed completely in Taehyung’s mind, he ran forward so that he could walk alongside his friend once again.
“I think you misunderstood my question,” Taehyung tried again slowly, “I want to know about Lee Y/N, you know, your soon to be wife? The one you’re about to marry right now?”
“What is there to know?” Jungkook commented, mind occupied with a topic of much more importance, “a marriage with her will allow for the unification of two powerful mafia families and will also allow for an heir to be born. Is that not the whole point of marriages for individuals like us?”
“Well yeah, but there’s no harm in getting to know her at least a little bit. Did you even hear about the ‘dumb as rocks’ part when I was rambling?”
“That will only make her easier to control,” he deadpanned.
“Fine, whatever. Is she at least pretty?”
Taehyung’s eyes widened even more when Jungkook didn’t respond, “please tell me you’ve met her at least once. Oh my god, have you even looked at a picture of her?”
Jungkook's silence was all Taehyung needed to know that the answer was, in fact, no,” I knew I shouldn’t have gone out of the country! My parents kept telling me everything would be fine and they’d take care of the whole thing but you haven’t even met her once? I should’ve made my return flight earlier, then I could’ve-”
Taehyung’s voice faltered as he noticed Jungkook’s distant expression, causing his brows to furrow. He wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, which wasn’t something entirely out of the ordinary, but it usually wasn’t this bad. He sighed as he shifted his gaze to the expensive hall before him.
“Is this about the Parks?” He asked, noticing his friend’s focus return.
“It’s the Parks and the Mins,” Jungkook admitted, “ever since their alliance, they’ve been getting bold. They made a move on our West docks last week and would have been successful in seizing them if it weren’t for the blackmail I managed to procure at the last minute. But that won’t hold them off for long.”
Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, “you’ve always enjoyed a challenge. Why’s this bothering you so much?”
Jungkook turned into another hallway to finally come face to face with a large pair of grandiose double doors that towered over them. The two men came to a stop, aware that their conversation was now on a timer.
“I just… have an uneasy feeling,” he said, unable to reveal anymore to Taehyung. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his best friend what he had really witnessed when he visited the docks yesterday.
Taehyung, clueless to Jungkook’s inner turmoil, slapped him on the back, lightening the mood with a grin, “come on man, this is your wedding. You’ll figure everything out later, for now just relax. You deserve it.”
Before he could protest, Taehyung shoved the double doors open to reveal an enormous and crowded wedding hall. The white and gold marble floor stretched across the entire room, while multiple diamonds came together to form a giant chandelier that hung over the hundreds of tables that had been decorated with shiny silverware and pristine white roses. The people were just as decorated as the furniture, with their elegant gowns and glamorous jewellery.
At the sound of the doors opening, the once chattering crowd silenced, opting to sneak glances at Jungkook and his friend instead. Hushed whispers echoed around the hall as Jungkook straightened his back and held his head high before making his way to the centre of the room. Behind him, Taehyung took his place, his outgoing and extroverted personality tucked away to look just as regal and intimidating as the groom. The crowd began gathering on either side of the aisle, clearly excited for the bride who had been scheduled to appear any second now.
Most men’s hearts would be racing during a time like this, Jungkook thought distantly, eyes focused on the aisle as well. Marriage to others was supposed to symbolise unwavering love and devotion. But not for him. For him marriage was simply a contract, a means to an end that he hoped would lessen the burden of a number of challenges. In a world like this, there was no such thing as love.
Only power.
The sound of the double doors opening pulled him from his thoughts, with two professionally dressed workers fixing them on either side so that they remained open this time. Jungkook watched a pair of women in what seemed like light pink bridesmaid dresses trail behind two girls who couldn’t have been more than five throwing white and light pink flower petals in the air. Behind the entourage was a figure drenched in white.
You walked slowly into the room, your glimmering white dress trailing behind you as a thick white veil draped over your face and the front of your dress. Jungkook could only make out your hands clutching a small bouquet of white roses while your arm looped around your father’s, who was slowly guiding you down the aisle. Despite the aid, he couldn’t help but notice an uneasiness to your steps and a slight shake in your hands.
The crowd’s gaze stayed fixed on your figure, drinking in the Jeon Jungkook’s soon to be wife. There were some gasps of astonishment at the beauty of your dress and figure, while there were some gasps of jealousy towards the woman who was taking Jungkook off the market. You didn’t seem to pay them any attention as your head stayed fixed in front of you, focusing on not falling as you continued through the aisle.
To Jungkook, it felt like years had passed before you finally reached the small steps leading to the stage he was standing on, your bridesmaids taking their places on the opposite side of where Taehyung was standing. Your father unlooped his arm from yours and stepped back to sit on one of the seats that had been reserved for him, leaving you to hesitantly step onto the stage yourself. Your heel wobbled as you brought your foot forward and Jungkook knew exactly what would happen before it did.
He watched your heel slip sideways, causing you to careen to your right under the heaviness of your dress. But before you could crash into the large pots of white roses, Jungkook shot forward so that his hand could grab your waist, hoisting you up to prevent you from falling. The crowd swooned at the gesture, murmuring about its romantic nature, though all Jungkook could wonder was how you’ve been surviving in a mafia family for so long. Taehyung had only said you were dumb, not a complete klutz too.
He could feel the warmth of your delicate hand on his shoulder as he guided you up the steps, only letting go of you once the two of you were facing the patiently waiting priest. Once he had motioned for everyone to sit, he began his sermon in an obnoxiously boring voice. Jungkook had no particular interest in paying attention to a speech he had listened to multiple times growing up. Instead, he took the chance to survey you briefly. With your veil still hiding your face, he could only take in your perfect figure and pristine skin.
Eventually, the priest asked you to remove your veil, to which you complied slowly. Taehyung came forward, offering to take the bouquet in your hands while your bridesmaids helped you hesitantly lift the soft white cloth over your head.
A wave of hushed whispers spread throughout the crowd at the sight of your face, one that caught Jungkook off guard. Your eyes had been lined with a light liner, while your lips and cheeks had been made to look dainty. Your hair fell from the top of your head to your shoulders, styled in a way that framed your features and neck. Jungkook noticed a small silver necklace in the shape of a heart resting against your exposed collarbone.
Your makeup made you look so innocent and… young. Jungkook almost wanted to pull Taehyung’s parents aside and confirm that you really were twenty three and not some nineteen year old. It was a bit of a turn off, he realised, slightly bothered by the fact. As a twenty six year old, he obviously wasn’t into teenagers, so he didn’t know what having a wife that looked like one was going to do for him.
Then again, he wasn’t marrying you for some kind of gratification. He was marrying you because he needed to form a strong alliance between your father’s gang and his so that he could be, or at the very least appear, stronger than the Mins and Parks. You were nothing more than a path to more power and, aside from upholding his responsibilities as a husband, he would treat you as such.
As the priest continued to drone on, Jungkook continued to analyse your form. He watched your eyes stay focused on the priest before they strayed, hesitantly landing on Jungkook for a split second. When you noticed his gaze already on you, a small squeak sounded from your lips before you quickly shifted your focus forward. With the bouquet of flowers now hanging from Taehyung’s hand, your own fingers were clasped awkwardly in front of you.
You were apparently everything Taehyung had painted you as earlier, Jungkook thought. Your makeup and mannerisms had an air of exaggerated innocence, while your body language was shy and sheepish. He had no problem imagining you as a weak girl that was so traumatised by the death of your first husband that you couldn’t utter a single word the following month.
The priest turned to the seated crowd, beckoning anyone that had an issue with the marriage to step forward and speak their mind. Just as Jungkook expected, no one dared make a stand, preferring to cherish the connection between their head and neck instead. Following the silence, you and Jungkook were made to stand facing each other.
Your gaze was fixed on his collar, seemingly too shy to meet Jungkook’s eyes. It only confirmed his suspicions regarding your confidence, or lack thereof.
Yet, despite your evidently timid nature and lack of intelligence, Jungkook couldn’t help but experience an uncanny feeling lingering at the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his untrusting nature, or maybe he had just been forced to over analyse you during the long and boring sermon. But he could have sworn that there was something about you. Just… something about the way you had trouble meeting his gaze yet seemed to have no problem in scanning Taehyung up and down. For a fraction of a moment, the look in your eyes was almost calculated, as if you had been assessing him. But just as fast as Jungkook thought he saw it, the look disappeared, replaced by a timid and shy gaze once again. It left him questioning whether he had even seen it in the first place, or whether he was letting paranoia see things that weren’t there.
Finally, the priest turned to the two of you and made you both say your vows outloud. They were the standard vows, Jungkook and you putting no effort in creating a confession that you both knew was ingenuine. Instead, the two of you repeated after him, answering “I do” when the time was right. Jungkook was glad that, despite your seemingly ditzy nature, you hadn’t requested any giant romantic gestures. According to your father, you had even had no problem with Jungkook requesting that there be no kiss at the altar. It made his life a lot easier and truthfully made this entire situation a lot less awkward.
To Jungkook’s relief, the priest finally addressed the crowd once more, ending the sermon on a final note filled with hope and prosperity. He spoke about how the marriage would strengthen the two mafias, mitigating worries relating to attacks from enemies that may wish to harm them. Jungkook had already expected this part of the speech, as he had been the one to tell the priest to say those exact words.
At the end of the sermon, Jungkook and you were made to walk down the aisle back to where he knew his expensive car was waiting. He turned to you, looping his arm around yours so that you wouldn’t fall again, and guided you down the steps slowly. He noticed that your every step was still wobbly and he could feel your hand shaking as you placed it on his bicep to steady yourself further. But this time, with the veil now draped behind you, he could see the distress in your face as well. Your eyes were wide as you took in the crowd surrounding you, looking as naive as Taehyung had made you out to be.
Jungkook tried to remind himself of Taehyung’s words. About how you had barely been able to pass high school and then completely dropped out of university a month in. About how your style consisted of pink and frilly clothes that didn’t have much place in the mafia. About how, at this moment, you seemed almost scared of the crowd and attention.
A girl like that was shy and naive and ditzy. Aside from being slightly irritating, that meant you couldn’t be much of a threat to him or anyone else. If anything your incompetence would be a threat to your own self. Jungkook had nothing to worry about when it came to you.
So he tried not to be unsettled.
He tried not to be unsettled by the fact that, despite your apparently innocent and weak nature, your fingers were gripping into his bicep so hard he would no doubt wake up with a bruise tomorrow morning.
He tried not to be unsettled by the way your shy gaze, which stayed fixed on the floor, would sometimes stray upwards to almost study the crowd around you before quickly darting back to the ground.
He tried not to be unsettled when you looked up at him to give him a bashful smile, one that the logical part of him agreed looked sweet and innocent enough.
Yet, why did another part of him wonder whether there had been something else lurking behind those seemingly innocent eyes?
-
-
-
The only thing that Jungkook had learned about you from the car ride was that your voice was as light and soft as your appearance.
The ride in his black car decorated with gleaming small white roses and ribbons had been mostly silent, the two of you making no effort to start a conversation. Jungkook had never been one for small talk, more than content to let Taehyung talk for hours instead. The reason for your lack of conversation, though, was unknown to him.
It was only when he was speeding through the highway that you had spoken to request that he slow down a bit. Your voice had been soft and timid, as if you were scared that Jungkook would lash out at you for the simple request. Or maybe that was just the way you spoke. Considering your personality, Jungkook wouldn’t find that too hard to believe.
Now the two of you walked through the entrance of his home, your eyes taking in the grandeur of it all. Despite its vastness, Jungkook felt that this was where he felt the most comfortable: between the white and fawn walls, the elaborately designed bannisters, and the creme marble floors. His home had remained the only constant in his life and, because of that, he cherished it immensely.
There were only a few people that Jungkook had allowed inside, all of whom were people that he trusted with his life. This was the first time, he realised, that someone outside of those few was stepping foot onto the marble floor and laying their eyes on the spiralling staircase. It was an odd feeling, allowing you to enter into what he felt was the only place that truly allowed his mind and body to relax.
He observed your reaction curiously, taking in your wide eyes. They bounced from one thing to the next, each structure seeming to fascinate you more and more. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were assessing the space, but the logical part of him kept trying to reassure himself that you couldn’t possibly be considered any kind of threat.
The sound of the door opening behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He turned around to find Taehyung walking through the doorway, a particular look on his face. Jungkook recognised it right away, causing him to turn to you for a moment while calling over one of the maids.
“Get her to the bedroom,” Jungkook commanded the maid as Taehyung stepped beside him, “and help her take off her makeup and dress into something comfortable.”
The maid nodded before she began to guide you up the flight of stairs, pointing out a few directions here and there to get you comfortable with the new environment. Jungkook watched you look back at him and Taehyung for a split second, an unreadable look in your eyes, before you faced forward once again and allowed yourself to be dragged away wordlessly.
Once you had disappeared up the stairs, Jungkook turned to Taehyung with a raised eyebrow.
“Well?” He prodded.
Taehyung glanced at the top of the stairs to make sure you really were gone, “I should be asking you that. What do you think of her?”
Jungkook mulled over his question for a moment, “she seems to be everything you said she is. Although, are you sure-”
“She is one hundred percent twenty three years old. I triple checked that one,” Taehyung said immediately, hands up in a gesture of surrender.
Jungkook let his hands nestle into his pockets, wondering if he should bring up his other concerns as well. Uptil now, you haven’t actually done or said anything worth garnering suspicion. Jungkook just seemed to be picking up on small things here and there, but he wasn’t sure if those things were just him being paranoid or genuinely things that he should be cautious over. This whole marriage thing was proving to be a lot more confusing than he had initially thought.
“What is it?” Taehyung asked, noticing his friend’s silence. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but, after earning a questioning look from Taehyung, he relented slightly.
“How well of a background check did your parents do on her?” Jungkook asked cautiously. He didn’t want Taehyung to know too much of how he was feeling at the moment, in case this was just his mind being overactive, but something in Taehyung’s expression seemed to indicate that he knew a lot more than what Jungkook was letting on.
“They did a very thorough one, of course,” Taehyung said, eyeing Jungkook knowingly, “you know my parents. If there’s one thing that they’re the best at, it’s uncovering people’s secrets.”
Then he added with a smile, “couldn’t get away with much while growing up because of it.”
Jungkook let his gaze wander around the room, “I just…”
“You’re just suspicious of her,” Taehyung finished, causing Jungkook to look his way, “of course you’re suspicious Jungkook, you’re letting a girl that you’ve never even met before into your house for the first time. It’s a natural reaction, especially considering how untrusting we’ve been conditioned to be since we were young.”
Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the back reassuringly, “I was the exact same way when I married Chaewon. Hell, in our first year of being married I even accused her of being a traitor when she was planning a surprise party for my birthday. When she finally told me… man, it took me a whole year to make it up to her. On another note, from a married man to a newly married man, don’t accuse your wife of anything unless you’re a hundred and ten percent sure of it. Otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.
“Besides, have you seen Y/N? She’s so shy and naive, her own reflection in the mirror must frighten her. I doubt you have anything to worry about, especially after my parents’ background check. Just enjoy yourself, man, it’s your wedding night,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk.
Obviously ignoring the suggestive comment, Jungkook nodded, finding logic in Taehyung’s other words. Jungkook had never been married, all of this was new to him. But if Taehyung, who had been married for almost a decade, said feelings like this were normal, then maybe he really was just being overly paranoid about the situation. You’d had a thorough background check done, which revealed nothing, and your personality was quite clear to Jungkook after he’d observed you at the wedding.
It was time Jungkook started trying to enjoy this marriage as much as he could. He was going to be stuck with you indefinitely, and constantly being suspicious of you was only going to wear him out, especially since you now had access to the only place he allowed himself to be free of the constantly vigilant and calculating mind that came with being the leader of the Jeons.
Jungkook turned to Taehyung, about to thank him for the insight, but the sound of the door opening once again caused the two to shift their gaze to behind them. The sight of the man walking through the doorway immediately had Jungkook wrinkling his nose in distaste while Taehyung’s expression had become a distant neutral. The man didn’t seem to mind the reactions if he noticed them, casually strolling deeper into the house until he was standing before the two.
“Jungkook, Taehyung,” Daehyun nodded, the respectful gesture somehow seeming more disrespectful if anything. He had clearly just come back from the wedding, still wearing his black suit and light brown hair styled back, “you just got married, yet I see only Taehyung and no bride. Shall I assume the two of you are running away together?”
The tasteless joke was followed by a deep laugh, one that belonged to neither Jungkook nor Taehyung. Instead they just stared at him with an unamused scowl.
“Relax, it’s only a joke,” he shook his head, gaze wandering the place casually, “I doubt your wife and kid would like the thought of that anyway.”
Taehyung’s jaw ticked at Daehyun’s words. Even if he hadn’t directly threatened or disrespected them in any way, just the mention of his family from his mouth was enough for Taehyung’s gaze to turn icy.
“Careful Daehyun, you’re standing before two mafia leaders,” Taehyung said, voice low and intimidating, “I would be less casual in our presence if I were you.”
To Taehyung and Jungkook’s dismay, Daehyun simply chuckled, “ah yes, but Jungkook and I are cousins. He’ll cut me some slack, won’t he?”
Jungkook didn’t answer, even after Daehyun gave his arm a lighthearted punch. Daehyun was the cousin that Jungkook could never be rid of, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was slimy and tactless and everything Jungkook hated rolled into one unbearable being. Having to give him access to his home, his only place of peace, had been one of the hardest things to do. But at the time, Jungkook had had to make sacrifices and this had been one of them.
Daehyun, undeterred by his cousin’s lack of response, leaned his arm on Jungkook’s shoulder casually, “congratulations by the way. When I saw your wife’s face- god did she look young! You’re so lucky man, I hope my future wife turns out like that.”
Jungkook grimaced as he suddenly felt the desire to wipe off any remnants of Daehyun’s touch from his suit. Daehyun had attended the same university as Taehyung and Jungkook, yet he had evidently obtained none of the class that they had. Everyday he wondered how the two of them could possibly be related. For the sake of Jungkook’s mental wellbeing, sometimes he liked to imagine Daehyun had actually been adopted and his parents had simply decided not to share that piece of information.
“I should get going,” Jungkook said stiffly, brushing his cousin’s arm off his shoulder. He fixed his suit as Daehyung smirked at him, likely thinking of Jungkook’s comment as more suggestive than he had actually meant.
Jungkook faced Taehyung to give him a curt nod before he turned and began walking up the stairs, not bothering to use the fawn iron bannisters on either side of him. He could hear Taehyung taking his leave through the front door, dragging a complaining Daehyun behind him to Jungkook’s satisfaction. The sound of the front door shutting had never sounded so delightful.
A silence ensued as Jungkook walked through the hallway upstairs, continuing until he paused in front of his bedroom’s door. He couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside the room, so, with a light knock against the white and fawn wood, his hand wrapped around the handle to turn it and finally push the door open.
The windows displayed an almost set sun, coating the atmosphere in a blanket of dimness. Everything about his bedroom had been changed. His once dark brown and white bed had been switched out for a cream and fawn coloured one, with a bouquet of vibrant red roses sitting atop the fancy and plush duvet, while his black leather couches had been replaced by light cloth ones. The ceiling and walls had been painted white, complimenting the new white and fawn patterned marble floor. His old dresser had also disappeared, a cream coloured dresser twice its size sitting in its place instead.
Aside from the drastic changes that had been made to his bedroom, no doubt to signify the change that came with marriage, the first thing Jungkook noticed was the maid who was drawing the curtains closed. The room would have fallen into complete darkness if it weren’t for the lamps sitting atop the bedside tables which were emanating a warm light around the space.
The second thing he noticed was you, who was sitting timidly on the edge of the bed and facing him. Your fingers were playing awkwardly in front of you while your gaze had been fixed on the floor, but at the sound of the door opening, your head raised to look at Jungkook. The sight of your face once again caught him off guard, the lack of makeup revealing a different side of you.
You no longer looked young. Without the innocent look that had been created with the blushes and the eyeliners and the lip glosses, Jungkook could see the mature shape of your eyes and the defined look of your features. You looked your age now, a lot more maturity prominent in your appearance.
You were pretty. Jungkook could admit that much now that you didn’t resemble a teenager. He wondered why you had done your makeup like that in the first place. He’d been to many weddings before and none of the brides had been made to look so young. Then again, Taehyung had already told him that, on top of looking innocent and naive, you seemed to dress the part as well.
“Is something wrong?” Your soft voice asked, eyes blinking innocently up at him.
Jungkook shook his head, motioning for the maid to leave the room. She gave you both a low bow before scurrying out the doorway, making sure to close the door behind her.
“No,” he finally answered. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if you were expecting anything to happen tonight, or if you even wanted anything to happen for now.
His gaze lowered as he mulled over his next actions. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a light pink, mesh lace nightgown that came all the way down to your knees with a silk bow stitched into the centre of your chest, as if your clothes were meant to compensate for the lack of makeup dolling up your features. He almost wanted to raise an eyebrow at you, but you seemed much too fragile to be ridiculed.
Alternatively, he decided to take an experimental step in your direction, surveying your reaction closely. He watched your fingers close tighter around the duvet on which you sat, your gaze hesitantly darting everywhere but him. That was answer enough for him to know how far you were ready to take it tonight. So instead, he passed the bed, opting instead to drop onto the couch on the far end of the room. While he was facing you, you had to turn your head to keep him in your sights.
“What would you like to do now?” He asked you, resting an arm over the back of the couch while he crossed an ankle over his knee.
Your gaze dropped to your lap, watching your fingers fidget against each other nervously. It was almost as if having to answer a question like that had you stressed, which again made Jungkook wonder how you had survived growing up in a mafia family. How could you have been this weak?
“I-I don’t know,” you squeaked, not able to meet his gaze.
Jungkook sighed, turning his head to the side to survey the room. Technically, the two of you could just call it a night and go to sleep. You were clearly too shy to even speak a word to him, and Jungkook had never been one to beg others for things. Only time would tell how well the two of you would get to know each other.
But then Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the coffee table in front of him, noticing some sort of gift basket placed in its centre. It was obviously a wedding gift, filled with chocolates, scented candles, roses… and some wine and champagne. Jungkook has always been more of a whiskey guy, but right now he’d take just about anything.
“Why don’t we have a drink?” He suggested, uncrossing his leg so that he could lean forward and grab the top of the expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He prayed you weren’t one of those people that didn’t drink, your innocent personality couldn’t possibly extend all the way to drinking as well.
You paused for a moment, taking in the bottle in Jungkook’s hand, before slowly nodding your head, to Jungkook’s relief.
He beckoned you over with his free hand, “come here.”
You hesitated before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and took small steps towards him. Jungkook waited patiently until you were standing right in front of the couch, hands clasped shyly in front of you while your gaze stayed glued to the floor. He held up the bottle of wine and champagne in front of you, hoping you weren’t so dumb that you wouldn’t understand the question in his actions. Thankfully you studied the two bottles before a shaky hand raised and tapped against the bottle of champagne.
He pushed the bottle in your direction, forcing you to take it in your own hands, before standing up from the couch. The unexpected action seemed to scare you, causing you to immediately take a timid step backwards while you hugged the bottle to your chest. Jungkook had to suppress a tired, and maybe even slightly annoyed sigh, as he manoeuvred past you. He was trying to be patient, but this was becoming ridiculous.
“You get that open while I wash up,” he said to you, pointing at the bottle still pressed to your chest, “okay?”
You nodded slowly, allowing him to turn away from you and walk into the joint bathroom. Once the door was closed behind him he let out the sigh he had suppressed earlier. You really were… something. He couldn’t believe he had been suspicious of you earlier when you could barely even function properly, much less be any sort of threat. It was irritating, Jungkook felt, to have someone so incompetent for a wife. He wondered if he would have to break you out of that shell. You were the wife of a mafia leader now after all, you had to keep up at least some air of confidence in the presence of others so that you didn’t make him look weak.
Jungkook walked over to the sink and turned it on, splashing some cold water on his face before he began brushing his teeth. You were far from his ideal type, and he doubted this marriage would ever stem into whatever Taehyung and Chaewon had going on. Hell, he was wondering how the two of you could ever even produce an heir. You’d probably spontaneously combust if he even tried to touch you. And besides, he didn’t really want to touch you if he was being honest. You reminded him too much of a weak and helpless child, which was obviously a huge turn off. He may have been a mafia leader, but he wasn’t a complete monster.
Jungkook placed his toothbrush into the holder after spitting into the sink, drying himself off with one of the towels hanging near him. He was about to start changing into more comfortable clothes, only getting as far as unbuttoning the first few buttons of his black collar shirt, before a crashing sound rang from the bedroom. In less than a second he had pushed out of the bathroom, immediately scanning the bedroom before him as his hand automatically sought out the gun at his side.
It took him a moment to realise the lack of intruders in the room, and then another to take in your completely unharmed form. You were standing with your hands covering your mouth, looking down at the ground. Jungkook followed your gaze to find the champagne bottle rolling along the marble floor, still entirely intact. You had clearly dropped the thing accidentally, causing Jungkook to place his gun back in his waistband.
“I’m s-so sorry,” you squeaked, bending down quickly to pick up the bottle. Suppressing a huff, Jungkook walked over to you to take it from your hands.
“Here, let me do it,” he said, taking two of the crystal champagne flutes from the gift basket and placing them on the glass coffee table as he sat himself down on the couch, distantly annoyed at the fact that you couldn’t even pour a glass of champagne by yourself. Was this seriously what he was going to have to deal with from now on?
He tipped the bottle, filling both glasses to the brim with the bubbling liquid as you hesitantly sat yourself down on the couch to his left. His gaze fell on you as he was about to offer you one of the flutes, but paused when he noticed the look on your face. For the first time since he met you, you looked almost… excited. Usually your eyes would be downturned and focused on the floor, but this time they were fixed on the crystal glasses before you as if you were eager to taste the expensive liquid. Jungkook made a note of it, tucking it into the back of his mind for later.
“Take one,” he said as he motioned towards one of the glasses, but to his surprise you hesitantly shook your head. Your expression had turned timid once again, any hint of excitement from earlier entirely gone. He narrowed his eyes at you as he wondered if he had just imagined it. It had barely been there anyway.
“I don’t drink,” you said in your signature soft tone, not able to meet his gaze. Of course you don’t, Jungkook thought irritatedly, god forbid the princess touch a glass of champagne. He knew the thought was immature, but there was no way he was the most immature person in the room at the moment.
He pushed himself off the couch, very much aware that his patience was starting to wear thin, “well then I guess we should call it a night.”
But before he could step towards the bed, your hand shot out, clutching the edge of his sleeve with your fingers. He immediately looked down at your still seated form, a question in his eyes. You had to look away for a moment, seemingly collecting your nerves, before you met his gaze once again.
“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t,” you said, “I don’t want you not to enjoy yourself because of me. Please stay.”
Jungkook noticed the evident guilt in your eyes as your fingers continued to stay enclosed around the edge of his sleeve. When he didn’t move, you hesitantly leaned forward to gently pick up one of the glasses and then slowly presented it to him. His gaze shifted to the glass in your hand, pausing for only a moment, before he took it from you. He let himself sink back onto the couch as he studied you.
You continued to sit in your spot on the sofa, posture still timid. Your gaze bounced from one part of the floor to the next, while your expression remained shy. But there was something else lurking behind the expression. If Jungkook focused well enough, he could have sworn the edges of your lips were turned slightly upwards. It was so faint that it might have not even been there, but the more he focused, the more prominent it became to him.
A naive part of him might have thought it was from being successful in getting him to stay and have the drink, but the more logical part of him had already latched onto an idea, one that refused to be swept to the side any longer.
His gaze lowered to your collarbone, a glint from the heart-shaped necklace resting over your soft skin catching his attention. Unlike earlier, he noticed that the metal heart was actually a locket, and that its two sides were slightly open. It couldn’t have been ajar by more than a millimetre, but Jungkook still noted it down in his mind.
His gaze then ascended to your face, still a perfect picture of innocence. Your eyes were widened to resemble a curious doe, while your lips were pulled into a timid line. The hands resting in your lap fumbled with each other shyly, really completing the look.
Finally, his gaze dropped to the drink in his hand. He brought it closer to his face, as if he were about to take a sip, before eyeing the expensive liquid. His gaze fixed on the miniscule bubbles that continued travelled from the bottom of the flute to its surface, causing it to sizzle.
Jungkook slowly leaned forward, keeping his eye on his drink as he brought it away from his lips and instead calmly set it down on the coffee table before him. He then easily pushed himself off of the couch, which caused your brows to jump. There was an apparent question in your expression, one you decided to voice out loud.
“Is something wrong with the drink?” You asked, voice still soft as your doe eyes looked up at him through your lashes.
Ignoring the question, Jungkook placed a hand on the edge of the coffee table and slowly pushed it forward so that it was farther away from your seated form. The action caused you to blink.
“Is everything okay?” You tried again slowly.
But Jungkook then faced you, assessing you for a moment, before he took a few steps in your direction. You had to crane your neck upwards to continue meeting his gaze, his tall form towering over your seated one. This time your brows pulled together, eyes still doe-like, as you continued to question his actions.
“Jungko-”
Jungkook didn’t let you finish. The second you opened your mouth his large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed your neck, slamming your head into the seat of the couch. You squeaked at the sudden violence, immediately clawing at the fingers now enclosed around your throat. But your efforts were nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s iron hold.
“J-Jungkook, you’re h-hurting me!” You let out a choked cry, continuing to put up a weak fight against Jungkook. Tears had already started to coat your eyes and run down your cheeks, but Jungkook ignored them completely. He watched you struggle, fascinated by the way you thrashed around like an animal yet every jab at him was weak and ineffective. There was no sign of the strength he had noticed when you had grabbed onto his bicep earlier, so hard that he was sure it would leave a bruise. It was enough to make him grin.
Jungkook lowered his face so that his lips neared your ear, his body still hovering over your smaller form.
“If you wanted to kill me princess, you’ll have to do a better job than that,” he said, voice low. Your eyes widened even further as you continued to struggle against him, making pitiful noises that didn’t move him in the slightest.
“K-Kill?! What are y-you talking about?!” You continued to choke out as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hands had moved to his chest, desperately trying to push him away, yet failing miserably in the process. Jungkook tilted his head at your weak plea, eager to hear what other ways you’d beg him to let you go.
“P-please-” You began, but then cut yourself off abruptly when your tear-filled gaze met his. You must have seen something in his eyes, because he felt your body slacken, no longer desperate to fight him despite his hold on your neck cutting off your lung’s supply of air.
Instead you studied him, really studied him. He could see the same calculated look you had used on Taehyung earlier during the wedding. It was as if you were assessing Jungkook, picking out his strengths and weaknesses to figure out how you could use them to your advantage. He watched you weigh options in your head patiently before you finally tilted your head to the side calmly and shot him a look. In response, Jungkook decided to loosen his grip on your throat. He watched you catch your breath for a moment before you spoke.
“Well, you’re already smarter than the first one,” you commented, but your voice was entirely different. It was no longer soft and timid, rather it was a lot more deep and confident. He watched your expression change in the same manner. Your once wide and innocent looking eyes narrowed into a more matured look, while your lips straightened into more of a dangerously amused grin than a naive pout.
Then he processed your words. The ‘first one’ had to be your first husband, who Taehyung had explained had been killed on his wedding day. Taehyung had mentioned that a rival gang had been the one to murder him, but the actual one responsible for his death was clear to Jungkook now.
“Do you make it a hobby to poison your husbands’ drinks on their wedding nights?” He asked, hand still wrapped around your throat. He had situated himself between your legs, his own leg pushing one of yours against the back of the couch while his free hand pushed the other down against the seat of the couch. The position ensured you wouldn’t be able to kick him, while his body hovering over your own seemed to take care of the rest of you. You were smart enough not to try anything anyway, knowing Jungkook’s strength was incomparable to yours.
You shrugged, panting at the limited oxygen entering your lungs, “golf just wasn’t cutting it for me anymore.”
“Golf? How can a weak and helpless girl like you play such a sport?” Jungkook couldn’t help but quip, bordering on mocking you. It only made you grin, clearly no hint of offence in your expression.
He studied your nonchalant demeanour curiously. You had tried to kill him, and he should send your head back to your father’s doorstep for it. And yet, you couldn’t have looked any less composed with his hand around your neck. Either you were a complete idiot, which seemed much less likely now that he was starting to see your real character, or you believed you had the upper hand in this situation.
“You’re quite calm for someone I should have killed,” he noted, meaning for it to be a threat. But once again you didn’t seem deterred. In fact, the comment seemed to amuse you even more.
“Just because you should have me killed doesn’t mean you’ll actually have me killed.”
Jungkook’s brow raised, finding an opportunity to prod you further, “and why won’t I have you killed? Your father sent you here to kill me under the pretence of an alliance. I should start a war for this.”
You nodded, “but you see, my father did send me here to form an alliance. The whole killing you idea was all mine.”
Jungkook scoffed at the lame attempt at a lie, “you expect me to believe that?”
But you scoffed as well, meeting his gaze just as vehemently. It was an odd sight considering you had spent the entire day trying to make yourself small and avoiding his gaze. Yet here you were now, eyes ablaze like a thrashing fire. Not a spontaneously violent fire either, no Jungkook could very easily handle that. You were more like an electrical fire. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he had to be cautious around you, and that trusting any word that came out of your mouth was dangerous.
“Prove it then,” he challenged, tightening his hold on your neck for a moment to remind you of your vulnerability.
“I don’t need to prove anything,” you said, a hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, “just go ahead and mention to my father that I’m not a complete airhead that’s afraid of her own shadow. He’ll laugh in your face and call you a moron.”
The revelation that your father was just as clueless about your true self as everyone else only confirmed his initial thoughts. It also proved he couldn’t have trusted you to carry out an assassination attempt, meaning your father really did genuinely want an alliance with the Jeons. That was perfect, because Jungkook had certain plans that relied on this partnership. It was a relief that they hadn’t gone to waste.
“If it wasn’t your father’s idea, then why did you poison my drink?” He asked with a raised brow.
Silence filled the room following his question, one that allowed you both to hear the sounds of the wall clock. He got the feeling that you were contemplating something once again, planning out your next move.
Then you squirmed underneath him, seemingly getting comfortable, but Jungkook knew better than to believe whatever you appeared as. The second your hand went for the gun wedged in his waistband, he grabbed your wrist, pining it against the couch, while the hand that had been around your throat pulled out the matte black weapon. He slowly brought it to your temple with an amused grin.
“If you wanted it so badly, you could have just asked,” he taunted, bringing the gun down so that its barrel lifted your chin, “now, I asked a question princess.”
You huffed, your amusement finally falling to give him a half-hearted glare.
“I want a divorce.”
Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that sounded from his lips at your straightforwardness. You just tried to kill him, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you weren’t a fan of this marriage and wanted out of it.
It was an arranged marriage after all, and even though all arranged marriages didn’t equal a forced marriage, technically he couldn’t be certain that this marriage was of your own choice or not. For all he knew, you had some secret lover waiting for you back home, your marriage with Jungkook coming between the star crossed romance. The thought made his jaw tick. He was far from in love with you, but Jungkook tended to be territorial about what was his. And you were his wife at the moment.
You, on the other hand, seemed surprised by his reaction, as if it was the last thing you expected him to do.
“I mean you obviously want one now too, right?” You asked with your brows furrowed.
Jungkook didn’t respond, and that only seemed to make you more agitated.
“I’m not the wife that you want. You clearly can’t stand me when I have my ditzy front pulled up and you can’t trust me when I don’t.”
Although the points that you were making were true, there was one important factor you were missing, and that was the alliance between the Jeons and the Lees. Jungkook needed this alliance to, at the very least make himself seem like, he was more powerful than the Parks and the Mins. And with their recent moves -with what he saw at the docks just last night- he needed this alliance now more than ever. So while he normally would have had you executed and then sent your head to your father’s doorstep for your little assassination attempt, this time he was going to have to sweep his pride to the side.
Jungkook placed his free hand next to your head as he pushed himself up, choosing instead to stay standing in front of the sofa. His intense gaze dropped to your still form while his gun hung from his fingers firmly.
“No,” he finally said, causing your brows to jump.
You quickly pushed yourself off the couch to stand just as he was, but Jungkook didn’t move. With the sofa right behind you, barring you from taking a few steps back, that left you and him standing dangerously close to each other. The bow from your nightgown pressed against his partly unbuttoned black collar shirt, while its edge grazed his dress pants. Jungkook could feel the heat of your breath raise goosebumps from his exposed collarbone.
“Why not? I’m not the wife that you want.”
He smiled at the bite in your words, finding your frustration amusing, “you’ve got it all wrong. I simply wanted a wife to make the Lees allies, nothing more.”
Like a fire set alight, your eyes flashed in anger, “I won’t change. I’ll still be your idiot wife that will make you look weak.”
It was true that most wives of mafia leaders were strong and confident beings, symbols of their husbands’ power, and that having a wife like you may be a slightly risky choice. But Jungkook was sure his carefully established reputation could take the hit. Besides, although you might make him look weak, your marriage with him would make him far from actually weak.
“You think divorcing you won’t make me look weak?” Jungkook decided to say, unsure of if he was saying it to play with you more or to make sure you don’t believe your threats are inconveniencing him, “you’ve fooled everyone with your ditzy facade. A divorce will make them think I wasn’t able to tame a naive girl. You think people will accept me as a leader then?”
You didn’t react to the point, giving him the feeling that you might have already known that might pose an issue for him. Perhaps you thought his reputation could take the hit? When Jungkook really thought about it, it probably could have. He’d worked hard to be both feared and respected for years, a divorce like this, while questionable in the eyes of the people under him, could have been pushed under the rug given time. But the alliance was too important to him.
And that was something he needed to make sure you knew.
“That means you will continue to be my wife,” he settled, lowering his gaze so that it met yours with unwavering finality, “so you’ll continue to act like it.”
Jungkook felt his voice naturally lower, a hint of a threat evident in his tone, “listen to me well, Y/N. I don’t care if you act like the dumbest woman on Earth or the most sultry. Regardless, what you will act like is my wife. When we’re outside of this bedroom, we will laugh together, we will hug each other, and we will do whatever other damn thing married couples do so that no one doubts this relationship.”
“And if I don’t?” You bit, the speed of your reply making his jaw tick.
“If you don’t, you can stay locked in this bedroom until you learn how to behave. Understood?”
Your rage couldn’t have been more prominent, with a fierce glare burning right through him and a pair of fisted hands at your sides. Yet Jungkook ignored it all, instead meeting your gaze coolly as he waited for your confirmation.
It took a long moment to come, so long that Jungkook thought it wasn’t going to come at all. But eventually he noticed you nod your head. It was barely a movement, your head tipping down slightly before resuming its earlier place, but it was enough for him despite your unwavering glare.
He finally took a few steps back, thrusting the barrel of his gun once again into the waistband of his pants. Your angry form, on the other hand, didn’t move, opting instead to stand perfectly still despite your calves pressing into the sofa behind you. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen onto his forehead away from his face.
“Good, then we’re done here.”
He finally turned away from you, eyeing the door on his left intently. But before he could move towards it, your words made him pause.
“I just tried to kill you,” you commented before he turned to question its randomness. He found you sitting on the sofa once again, an eerily thoughtful look lurking behind your rage-filled eyes, “how will you know I won’t do it again?”
Jungkook tilted his head in response.
“You can try all you want, princess,” he said, liking the feeling of that nickname on his tongue more and more. It was almost addicting, “but you won’t succeed.”
Then his lips curled into a sly smirk, “after all, what kind of husband would I be if I barred my wife from her hobbies?”
He was able to just barely catch the roll of your eyes before he turned and pushed through the door he had been eyeing earlier, his hands automatically locking it behind him as he casually surveyed his office. The room had been spared from the new gleaming white and fawn furniture which had taken over his bedroom. Instead, it was filled with familiar dark brown.
Refined dark oak wood shelves and cabinets lined the walls except for the wall behind his large desk, which was made up entirely of a bookshelf filled to the brim with various hardcovers. For the sake of matching with the rest of the house, the marble floor had been done a light fawn colour, while another wall was made up of bulletproof glass, its centre having the ability to slide open to reveal a decent sized balcony.
Jungkook shrugged off his blazer as he made his way to his desk, laying the piece of cloth over the back of his black leather chair, before he opened the glass cabinet behind it. He didn’t need to think much as his fingers expertly curled around an expensive bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass. Before he knew it, he found himself standing outside on his balcony overlooking his estate, one hand holding the crystal glass filled halfway with light brown liquid while the other clutched the iron railing.
His gaze bounced around his estate for a peaceful moment as he took a sip from his glass, taking in the expanse of the luscious green field bordering the neatly done driveway despite the darkness of the night. In its centre was an intricately designed white fountain spewing water in four different directions, but all of which emptied systematically into the white basin at its base. The estate itself stretched for metres, the gates enclosing the space barely visible from where he was standing. Jungkook’s thoughts bounced around his head just as quickly as his gaze.
What a day it had been. At first, you’d been a complete idiot, one that had irritated him to no extent with your doe eyes and evident shyness.
But then you had turned out to be an entirely different species, far from the innocent and ditzy girl he’d labelled you as. You were cunning and feisty and seemingly very much ready for a divorce.
Jungkook felt the corners of his lips pull upwards into a grin as he took another sip of his whisky.
You were quite the enigma.
But he was going to enjoy the challenge.
A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!
#jungkook mafia au#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#jungkook fic#bts au fic#bts au#jimin#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook bts#mafia leader jungkook#bts fic#jungkook x y/n#bts series#jungkook series#jin#yoongi#namjoon#hoseok#taehyung#jungkook#seokjin#suga#rm#jhope#v#jungkook ff
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Mafia! BTS - They're Your One-Night Stand and They Fall for You (hyung line)
Warnings: mature NSFW content (18+) (p in v, f oral receiving), mention of virginity
MASTERLIST
You had a huge argument with your best friend over her toxic boyfriend and she decided that the two of you should take some time apart but you knew that was just her boyfriend talking. You've known each other for years and were so close that her words came as an absolute shock and broke your heart. That night you just wanted to forget everything and have a good time. You went to the club with some of your other friends and danced and had a few drinks. You were tipsy enough to make you feel braver than usual but not remotely enough that you didn't know what you were doing. You had never had a one-night stand before but everything is a first sometime.
Jin
You were dancing at the club although the music wasn't really that good. You didn't care, though; you just needed to stop thinking about losing your best friend and let out the anger that you felt towards her toxic boyfriend.
When you followed your friends to go to the ladies' room together, you bumped into a tall figure.
"I'm so sorry," you said over the loud music. It was dark and the club was crowded. Another person was trying to make their way past you and pushed you into the stranger with force. You yelped in surprise as you fell but the stranger steadied you against him.
"Are you alright?" asked the stranger's deep voice. You finally managed to look up, your faces only inches apart. He was so handsome that it nearly took your breath away. Your heart was beating wildly as you nodded but your eyes drifted to his lips instead. You had never done that before but that night you were feeling completely reckless. The stranger's eyes found your lips as well and you took your chance. You stepped on the tips of your toes and closed the space between the two of you. The stranger's hands moved from your arms down to your waist as he pulled you closer. The scent of his perfume gave you goosebumps. It was strong but elegant not like the cheap colognes of other guys.
Before you knew it, you found yourself in the young man's apartment. You only had time enough to find out that his first name was Jin and you didn't care about the rest. All you wanted was to forget about everything and Jin was so good at making you forget. His touch made your knees weak and his kisses were so strong and passionate that all you could think about was wanting him.
Jin unzipped your tight black dress and pulled it down to your waist. He kissed your exposed shoulders as you untucked his white shirt. A loud moan escaped your mouth when he found the sweet spot on your neck and your fingers balled around his shirt. Jin tore his lips away from your neck and left soft, wet kisses down your chest and your tummy until he came to your waist. He pulled your dress off completely, his mouth watering at the sight of your lacy underwear. He kissed the front of it, making you gasp as he yearned to get a better access. Jin's large hands squeezed your bum as he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You could have never found the confidence to do all of this so easily if you were completely sober and you were glad for the few drinks you had.
You swallowed hard when Jin laid you down on his bed and pulled off his shirt. As if his kisses and confident touch weren't enough to make you soaking wet, the sight of his god-like body made your skin crawl with fever.
You found yourself tracing your toes gently from the waist of his trousers and past his length that hardened even more beneath your touch and down to the middle of his thigh. Jin watched you with a look in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. He took off his pants and grabbed a condom from the nightstand. You pulled him down to you, your lips finding his before you helped him slip it on. The brush of your fingertips against his member made him so hard that he could come there and then. Jin wouldn't allow himself, though, not before he could feel himself inside of you.
Jin climbed on top of you and found your soft lips again. Your kisses were driving him crazy.
"Can you go slowly at first?" you whispered into the kiss, your fingers tangled in the stranger's hair. Jin opened his eyes and found yours. If you could blush any more, you would.
"Of course," he agreed and left a hickey beneath your jaw. You smelled fantastic and it made him almost feral but he remembered what you said.
Jin took off your soaked-through underwear and pulled your hips closer to his before he guided himself inside of you. You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning but it helped little to contain your little sounds of pleasure. You couldn't help but curse under your breath as Jin began to move his hips and you could feel every inch of him inside of you. Your heart was racing like crazy and you couldn't get enough. Your nails dug into Jin's back, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips. It felt so good that you never wanted the moment to stop.
"Fuck," groaned Jin as he came closer and closer. His eyebrows furrowed into a frown and his grip on your hands grew firmer. Jin's face buried into your neck when he came, his breathing loud and heavy as he tried to calm down. You caressed his back, no less excited although you didn't finish. You didn't even expect to, given that this was just a one-night stand.
Afterwards, Jin went to the bathroom and took off the used condom. He ran his fingers through his hair when he came back, his eyes finding your sprawled across his bed. You were still breathing heavily, one of your hands on your bare tummy, the other somewhere behind your head. Your gaze tied with his when he waited by the bed.
Jin's fingers traced your calf first then his hand slid up your leg as he climbed onto the bed and he reached your thigh. Jin kissed your tummy first, his teeth softly grazing against your skin. Your heart began to race again and your stomach flipped with fireworks. Before you realized what Jin was doing, his mouth had reached your wet pussy. You gasped when his lips closed around you sucking and kissing and his tongue drawing shapes in ways that brought you to the edge of screaming. Your back arched when Jin's hands wrapped around your thighs and he brought you closer, your toes curling and your heart beating so loud against your chest that you forgot how to breathe. You whimpered as your legs shivered and pleasure took over your entire body.
"Oh my god ..." you cried when Jin pulled away from the throbbing, wet mess between your thighs. He turned to the inside of your leg and pressed hard kisses there as well, leaving a red marks on your tender skin.
***
You woke up in the morning with the sun in your eyes. You blinked, thinking you had died for a moment because it felt as if you had been sleeping on a cloud. It was just a large bed, however, with soft, plush covers scattered all around you. You sat up quickly when you remembered everything that happened. A blush so strong rose to your cheeks that your face was pulsating with heat. A sharp breath caught in your throat when you realized that you were naked and your underwear lay scattered on the bedroom floor. You jumped up quickly and put it on but your dress was nowhere to be found. There were three doors in the bedroom; one led to the walk-in closet, another to the hallway and the last one to the bathroom. Your dress wasn't there either but when you saw the smudged makeup on your face, you couldn't help but wash it away quickly and run your fingers through your tangled hair.
There was the sound of footsteps coming from the other side of the apartment. You saw a white shirt at the foot of the bed and slipped it on. The smell of it reminded you of every detail of the night and made your face flush. When you slowly made your way down the hall, you took in the luxurious apartment, not even noticing how extravagant it was last night. As you looked around, a pair of dark eyes was watching you with great interest. Jin's gaze followed your bare legs, the silhouette of your lacy underwear beneath his white shirt and your soft hair bathing in the morning sunlight.
You could feel someone looking at you. A loud gasp escaped your mouth when you turned around and saw your one-night stand behind the kitchen isle. He looked even better than you remembered; he wore a fresh shirt and suit trousers, a golden watch shimmering on his wrist as he held a cup of coffee in his other hand. Not only did you feel under-dressed and awkward about last night, you suddenly realized how out of your league he was.
"Good morning," he said and took a small sip of coffee.
"I ... I couldn't find my dress," you almost stuttered as you hugged your arms. Your cheeks were on fire. The man gestured at the sofa behind you. You slipped back into the bathroom where you changed quickly, not having the smallest idea of how to navigate the situation.
When you returned to the kitchen, the man was still there.
"Coffee?" He offered you a cup.
"Thank you ..." you tried to remember his name but you couldn't even if there was a gun to your head.
"Jin," he filled in a small but amused smile on his handsome face.
"Jin," you repeated and took a long sip that you desperately needed. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," said Jin, unable to take his eyes off your beautiful face. He couldn't stop thinking about last night either. He couldn't say what it was and it irritated him to death, but something about you drew him in; he wanted to know more, he wanted to know everything.
"Are you hungry? I can make you some breakfast," he offered, taking you completely by surprise. Based on what your friends told you, one-night stands don't go this way. Some guys even made the girls leave in the middle of the night and yet he was offering to make you breakfast.
"I ... I'm not sure," your statement sounded more like a question.
"You're not sure if you're hungry?" asked Jin, unable to keep the smile off his face at how adorable you were. The warm look in his eyes gave you butterflies.
"No, I am but ... Shouldn't I go now?" you asked, only realizing how dumb you sounded after saying the words. "I'm sorry, I've never really done this before," you confessed and only made your cheeks go even redder.
"I can see that," smiled Jin and went for the fridge where he grabbed some ingredients for an omelette. You were staying for breakfast.
"What ... What do you do?" you asked carefully as you sat by the counter, taking in the lavish apartment. Jin couldn't have been more than a couple of years older than you and yet he either seemed to be making a fortune or inherited a colossal amount of wealth from his parents.
"I have a significant share of a company," said Jin diplomatically as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt before he started whisking the eggs.
"Oh ..." You heard about really young people who invested at the right thing at the right time and became rich overnight. You figured Jin was one of them.
"Do you do this often?" you asked after Jin set a beautiful omelette in front of you.
"Cook?"
"No," you laughed a little, your cheeks turning red again. "I mean this ... Whatever it is ... was ..."
Jin watched you for a moment, trying to figure you out. He could tell that you had no idea who he was; he knew that last night already and it drew him in. People began to act differently once they found out who he was.
"Sometimes," said Jin honestly and you nodded as you took a delicious bite.
"This is really good," you complimented, completely focused on the food and not noticing the look of interest in Jin's eyes. He had never met anyone like you before.
"Thank you," he said. "You?"
"No," you almost laughed again and shook your head. "This isn't my thing, I've never even—" You stopped talking and froze when you realized what you just said. An eerie silence fell between the two of you as your face burned bright red and you could feel the blood pulsating from your neck to your cheeks.
You took another bite of the food and hoped Jin wouldn't ask further about what you practically revealed just now, but you could feel his eyes burn through you. For a long time, you really wanted your first time to be with someone special but as you grew older and went on more dates, the realization of that idea seemed nearly impossible. You didn't mind your first time being with Jin. You followed your instincts last night and went for it; it's not like you haven't done anything by yourself before that.
Jin watched you, trying to process what he just thought you said. His heart began racing faster as his eyes measured you from head to heel. You bit your lip as a pang of guilt shot through your chest.
"I hope you don't mind that I didn't say anything," you said apologetically and forced yourself to look up into Jin's eyes. "I didn't want to make a big deal out of it because it's isn't a big deal to me." Your voice slowly grew more quiet with each word. Jin stared at you, his lips slightly parted.
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, leaning in slightly closer to you. Your eyes widened slightly and you blushed again. This was the last thing you expected him to say, a complete stranger.
You found yourself nodding truthfully. "Yeah, I ... It was great ..." you looked down at your plate and pulled another piece of omelette from the large roll with your fork. "It was pretty incredible really ..." you whispered under your breath when the memories came back to you.
Jin's hand went to your chin and propped it up before he kissed you. Your eyes widened at first but your instincts took over and you kissed him back. Your hand went to his smoothly-shaven cheek and you couldn't help but let out a quiet moan at how good Jin's plush lips felt against yours. He pulled away for a split second before leaning in again and pressing a shorter but no less passionate kiss to your lips.
Jin knew he was done for when he found it almost impossible to detach from your kiss. Your eyes staring up at him made his knees go weak - it was a completely new sensation for him.
"What are you doing tonight?" he found himself asking.
"I ... I don't know," you tried to think. The kiss made your brain all foggy.
"Let me take you out to dinner," said Jin. You stared at him puzzled.
"Me?" you asked timidly. You had never planned on this, not in a million years, but you would be lying if you said the thought of going out with Jin properly didn't excite you and give you butterflies.
"I'll pick you up at seven," he decided.
Namjoon
You were just coming back from the ladies' room with your girl friends when you saw a stunningly-handsome man. He was walking beside you back to the club area, his perfume sending shivers down your spine. The hallway narrowed to a single-door and he let you enter first.
"Thank you," you said with a small smile and slipped inside. When you glanced over your shoulder, the young man was nowhere to be seen. You frowned although you knew he was completely out of your league. What you found strange too, though, was that he was wearing a suit to the club. You wondered if he was the owner but he seemed much too young to own a business like this.
You had another drink and went back to the dance floor with your friends. You were dancing to the music, trying not to think about the absolute worst day you had. You couldn't believe how your best friend's boyfriend could manage to manipulate her so much that she would completely cut you off and her family too.
"I need to get some air," you voiced to your friend over the loud music. She nodded and continued on dancing.
You made your way through the pushy crowd, ignoring the weird guys who were gawking at you. They all looked the same; they dressed the same, they smelled like the same old cheap cologne; even their hair and faces looked the same.
You finally managed to make it through the back door, the cool air of the night filling your lungs and clearing your mind some.
"Everything alright?" asked a deep voice behind you. A small gasp escaped your lips as you jumped around. It's him, you realized when the young man in the suit stepped out from the shadows. He flicked away the cigarette butt in his hand.
You nodded as you hugged your bare arms. It was hot in the club but out here, the little black dress you wore wasn't remotely enough to keep you warm. Besides, you were sweaty from all the dancing.
"Actually, not really," you confessed and looked at the fluorescent light at the end of the back alley. The young man approached you.
"Anything I can do to help?" he asked and made you smile. You shook your head although you could help but allow your eyes to drift to the man's gorgeous lips. Your skin turned hot and prickly.
A pair of drunk girls in high heels emerged from the club suddenly and stumbled at you, pushing you against the stranger. He caught your arms and steadied you.
"Are you alright?" he asked after he threw a glare in the girls' direction. They were gone, though, giggling and stumbling down the alley.
"I'm fine," you nodded quickly. "Thank you."
"No problem," he said quietly as you looked up at him. There was hardly any space left between the two of you. A sharp breath caught in the back of your throat as your gaze fell on his lips again and he saw it. The stranger leaned down and kissed you. You responded immediately as you wrapped your arms around his neck and stepped on the tips of your toes. A small moan escaped your mouth when his hands took your hips and pulled you to him.
The moment that you made it into his apartment, the stranger grabbed your thighs and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to his bedroom.
"What's your name?" you whispered against his lips, hesitant to break the kiss for even a moment. He pulled away though, his eyebrows in a small frown as he looked you in the eye and stopped on his tracks. There was surprise in his dark irises and you wondered if he really was the owner of the club. You wouldn't have known him even if he was because you hardly ever went there.
"Namjoon," he said breathing heavily.
"I'm Y/N," you said quickly before you found Namjoon's lips again. His name sounded unique and familiar but in that moment you couldn't have thought about it less. All you wanted to do was to forget about everything and feel everything.
Namjoon sat down on the edge of the bed with you in his lap, your legs straddling his massive thighs. You kissed him hungrily as his large hands slid up your thighs and beneath your dress up to your hips. They stayed there for a while before Namjoon unzipped your dress and pulled it over your head. His lips went to your neck as you blindly unbuttoned his shirt, losing track for a moment when he found your sweet spot and a moan escaped your mouth. Namjoon's hand moved down your back and behind your lacy underwear. He squeezed your bum and made you move your hips closer to him so that you could feel how hard you made him. Once your wet pussy grazed his length, you couldn't help but continue moving your hips along it, making Namjoon's trousers wet.
"Fuck," he muttered against your chest. His fingers dug into your soft skin as he helped you guide your hips along his member. Your hair smelled so good that it made Namjoon's skin prickle with fever. He couldn't take it any longer.
Namjoon picked you up and laid you down on his soft bed. He pulled off his half-unbuttoned shirt and unbuckled his belt. He grabbed a condom from his nightstand and put it on although he wanted nothing more than tear it off and feel you raw.
"Come here," Namjoon almost growled as he pulled you back onto his lap. He let you stay on top although he was the one guiding you. A gasp-like moan caught in your throat as he entered you, making you feel so good. He moved his hips slowly at first, steadily as he watched your little pleasure-drunk frown. Your nails were digging into his strong chest, only making him more impatient. He guided your hips against him, your clit rubbing against his waist as you leaned forward. You began stroking yourself, the sight of it making Namjoon growl curses. He sat up properly and supported you in his strong arms as he made you take all of him. Your eyebrows were furrowed into a frown and your lips parted as you whined but it felt so good.
"Fuck ... Don't stop, don't stop," you begged as you edged closer. "I'm close," you whimpered just before your thighs quivered and Namjoon's thrusts made you wince after you climaxed. He was close too, so fucking close when he saw the expression on your face when you came.
Namjoon groaned against your chest when he came deep inside of you. The feeling of him throbbing inside your sensitive pussy made you whimper. You were breathing heavily in each other's arms, trying to find a way back from the high.
***
Your hands reached across the empty bed as you opened your eyes. It took you a moment to remember where you were and what happened. The memories brought a sharp blush to your cheeks as you sat up. You were wearing Namjoon's shirt and nothing else. The fabric still smelled like his perfume, giving you goosebumps.
You ran a hand through your messy hair as you stood up, your bare feet threading the cold wooden floors. For a moment your thighs quivered and your eyes widened. You remembered how good it was but even your body surprised you.
The first door that you opened was a bathroom and you couldn't be more grateful for it. After you gathered your clothes, you took a quick shower and washed away the makeup from last night.
When you made it back to the bedroom, a part of you hoped that Namjoon would be there and yet another was embarrassed to even look at him. You had never done anything like this before. You were always so calm and rational but last night something snapped in you. Everything had built up over the past few weeks and you just wanted to feel good for a change.
You made your way down the hallway and followed the sound of the TV news reporter. Namjoon was sitting on the sofa in front of a large TV and watching the morning news with the stocks information running at the bottom of the screen. He had a laptop open and a coffee in his hand. The apartment looked thrice its size in daylight and so lavish it made your stomach twist into knots. Maybe he really was the club owner.
You wondered whether you should say something at all or simply try and leave unnoticed. As you slipped behind Namjoon and almost reached the hallway, you bumped against an end table.
Namjoon turned around, his dark eyes finding yours.
"I'm just going to ..." you jumped around and gestured towards the door, letting him know you were going to be out of his way in a second. "I, um ... I left the shirt by the sink in the bathroom."
"Where are you going?" asked Namjoon and got up, forgetting completely about the stocks or the news or any of it.
"Home?" you suggested unsure. You had no idea how this worked. Based on what your more experienced friends told you, no one was lingering around for coffee and many of them were even asked to leave in the middle of the night or sleep on the sofa.
"Yeah, I know, of course," said Namjoon, a small smile creeping to his lips. He seemed much less intimidating now that he was talking to you rather than when he was frowning at the news. You almost forgot how handsome this man was but he reminded you simply standing in front of you.
"Do you want me to drive you?" he asked. Namjoon's voice was deep and dark but his brown eyes warm and inviting. "There's coffee too if you want."
You watched him unsure. His hands were in the pockets of his dark suit trousers and he wore a fresh new shirt as well.
"I, um ... Sure, coffee would be great," you smiled a little. "If it's not an inconvenience," you added quickly.
"Not at all," said Namjoon as he looked down at you. You looked different without your makeup and your hair done. You still looked perfect though.
You followed Namjoon into the kitchen where he grabbed some coffee. "I can try and make you some breakfast - try being the operative word," said Namjoon as he poured you some coffee.
"I'm sorry I really don't know what I'm doing right now," you said nervously as you hugged your arms. Namjoon turned to you, his brows in a small frown. "I've never done this before - should I've just left? I really don't want to impose if you're busy," you gestured to the living room behind you.
Namjoon rose his eyebrows as his eyes flickered to the TV before they tied back to your gaze. He placed a cup of hot, aromatic coffee on the counter before you and grabbed the remote. He turned off the TV and grabbed his own cup before he joined you in the kitchen.
"I'm not busy," said Namjoon. His hand brushed against your upper back as he made his way past you. Goosebumps rose on your arms.
"I'm curious," he confessed.
"Curious?" you rose your eyebrows, puzzled.
"Why did you do it this time?" asked Namjoon as you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed pink.
"I just ... It's a really long story," you shook your head.
"I've got time," he said and sat down beside you. You gave him another look, unable to tell if he was just being polite but he seemed genuinely interested - so you told him. You told him about your best friend and how she had been acting strange since she started seeing this guy over a year ago; how she slowly cut everyone from her life and how it was your turn now.
"This is going to sound strange but ..." you shook your head as you stared down at your coffee. "I think my heart's broken." Your voice was quiet and weak. You licked your dry lips and looked up at the man who was nothing short of a stranger to you but he was listening to you nevertheless.
"I know it's not like love - romantic love - but ..." you tried to explain and ran a hand through your hair. "I just can't believe this is fucking happening ...
"I'm perfectly aware that I have no right to judge - I've never even dated anyone—" you went on but that's the last thing Namjoon heard. His eyebrows furrowed into a frown as he looked at you properly. He couldn't make himself believe the words coming out of your mouth. You were one of the most attractive women he had ever seen. Every last curve of your body reminded him of last night and made Namjoon realize how he wanted you for himself and not just for that one night and the fact that you were free ...
"I should probably go," you said when you saw the frown on Namjoon's face. You should never have stayed in the first place. But when you jumped off the stool, Namjoon stood up as well and caught your hand.
"Have dinner with me tonight."
"W-What?" you stuttered.
"Dinner tonight," decided Namjoon. "I'll pick you up at seven."
Yoongi
The dancing alone had little effect on you forgetting about your horrible day. The music was bad and the drinks you and your friends ordered were so watered down it was practically money thrown out the window. There was only one thing that was keeping your attention - him. He must have been around your age or maybe a few years older but it was dark and you didn't particularly care. He was talking to the club owner or perhaps a manager when his dark eyes found yours. A sharp breath hitched in the back of your throat when he caught you staring. You looked away at your friends who were dancing beside you but when you turned around, he was still watching you. His eyes tore themselves away from you when the manager motioned towards the back of the club.
It must have been an hour since when you told your friends you wanted to leave but they continued dancing. You tried make your way through the pushy crowd. There were guys gawking at you in your beautiful dress and your hair done perfectly. A couple of them wanted to stop you from leaving and make you dance with them but you managed to slip from their grabby, sweaty hands.
"God," you breathed as you pushed open some side door and the cool air of the night filled your lungs. You closed your eyes and threw your head back as if you were looking up at the night sky. You hugged your bare arms when the night air made you shiver.
"No, man, I'm telling you she wants it, I saw her go out here—" a man was talking to his friend and laughing drunkenly as they pushed through the same door where you came out. You jumped around when the door burst open and the two guys appeared that tried to make you dance with them. Your stomach twisted into knots and your skin prickled hot with fear. Your friends were still inside and there was no way of calling them.
"Look, there she is, I told you," grinned one of the guys and pointed his rude finger at you. The looks in the guys' eyes were terrifying because you had seen them a thousand times before and you knew exactly what they meant.
The smell of cigarette smoke came from the shadows on the other side of the door, only a small orange light visible to you. Someone stepped into the light in front of you, walking casually as if he were on an afternoon walk. Him. He breathed out the smoke as he took a look at his cigarette butt wondering if there was another drag hiding in there. His back was to you when he flicked away the cigarette absently and stared up at the two guys. The ribald expressions drained from their faces before they began pushing one another as to who will get back inside first. The heavy door closed behind them with a loud thud.
The man turned around and took a good look at your eyes.
"I saw you in there," he said after a while. His voice was quiet but dark enough to give you goosebumps.
"I saw you too," you said weakly. The stranger took off his jacket and offered it to you. "You don't need to—"
"Take it," he insisted, not unkindly. You thanked him and slipped on the warm jacket that smelled of heavenly perfume and a little bit of cigarette smoke.
"Do you need a ride?" asked the stranger and glanced over his shoulder at the door.
You nodded a little. "Yeah, okay." The reason in you told you not to go with him but you decided to trust your instincts. Everything about him drew you to him like a magnet, and little did you know that he felt the same way about you since the moment he saw you dancing in the club.
"What's your name?" asked the stranger as he opened his car door for you. He was leaning his arm against the frame when you froze, the two of you only inches apart.
"It's Y/N," you breathed, unable to keep your eyes from glancing at his lips. He nodded weakly and gave you his name.
Yoongi asked where you wanted to go once you were out on the road.
"Home," you said quietly as you watched the flickering lights of the city pass by.
"Where's that?" asked Yoongi, one of his hands on the steering wheel when he turned to you.
"I don't know where you live," you found yourself saying as you looked at him. Yoongi's lips parted slightly, his pitch black eyes studying you. He looked back at the road and made a turn at the next crossroads.
You followed Yoongi up an alarmingly tall apartment building where his place was at the very top. Yoongi let you in first after he unlocked the door. He turned on some lights as you took off your heels. He was right behind you. One of his hands slowly made its way around your waist whilst he moved your soft hair to one side of your neck with the other. Yoongi kissed your hot skin as you closed your eyes and let him. Your hand went over his that was resting on your waist, your fingers locking with his. You never imagined a stranger's touch could feel so good.
You turned around and caressed Yoongi's cheek, leading him down to your height. You kissed him slowly at first, but his grip securing on your hips encouraged you to deepen the kiss. His hands moved down to your bum and thighs where his fingers dug into your soft skin. He picked you up and sat you on the large end table Yoongi stepped between your legs that wrapped around his waist. Your back arched as you didn't want to break the kiss. A hint of cigarette smoke lingered on his tongue but you didn't mind, not that night. All you wanted was for him to touch you.
Yoongi's hands caressed your thighs before one of them rose beneath your skirt. You gasped when two of his fingers caressed the wet crease in your lacy underwear. Yoongi's eyes opened and found yours. He couldn't believe how wet you were and how hard that made him. Yoongi kissed you deeply, his lips returning to you over and over again for short, hungry kisses. Another one of your gasps filled Yoongi's mouth when his fingers began stroking your sweet spot. The fingers of one of your hands balled around the hem of his shirt whilst the other was tangled in Yoongi's dark hair.
You could feel how hard he was when Yoongi took his hand away and pulled your hips closer. He picked you up and carried you to his bedroom, knowing his way around the dark apartment. Yoongi laid you down on his soft bed before he got up and took off his shirt.
"Help me," you whispered breathlessly as you got to your knees and turned around and pulled your hair aside. Yoongi unzipped your black dress, revealing the lacy back of your matching bra. He pulled the dress off your shoulders and kissed your there, leaving small bites along your soft, perfumed skin. You laid back down and let him pull off your dress completely.
Yoongi was watching you lie on his bed in nothing but your underwear, letting his imagination run wild. Your cheeks flushed pink under his gaze but it was too dark for him to notice. He knew, though, the moonlight was enough.
He took off his pants and grabbed a condom from one of the drawers of his nightstand. His hands were almost shaking with impatience.
Yoongi tasted the moan in your mouth when he entered you. Your nails dug into his back in pleasure as he began moving his hips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, closing in what little space there was left between your bodies. Every thought but one disappeared from your mind - nothing else mattered but the two of you in that moment.
You began to stroke yourself. You didn't think you would feel like it but everything felt so good so you wanted to try.
"Let me do it," said Yoongi, his voice almost a growl. He grabbed a pillow and placed it beneath your hips and replaced your hand with his. He continued thrusting with the same rhythm that made you feel so good but now his fingers were caressing you as well. A loud moan rose from deep within your throat as your hands balled around the bed covers. Your eyes watered from the pleasure you were receiving. Yoongi's eyebrows furrowed into a frown as he watched you take him and come closer and closer.
"Fuck, please don't stop," you begged. Your back arched and your toes curled in pleasure as you felt the release all over your body. Yoongi came just after you, his member pulsating deep inside of you. He didn't pull out right away but leaned down to you and kissed you again. You wrapped around arms lazily around his neck and pulled him closer, your kisses showing him how good he made you feel.
***
You woke up late in the morning, not being able to remember the last time you had such a good night's sleep. You sat up in the unfamiliar bed wearing a hoodie far too large for your frame, the memories of last night coming back to you. Your neck and cheeks flushed red and your skin began to tingle as you fell back into the soft bed and savored the flashbacks. Something was moving in the hallway, a pair of quiet footsteps. Your eyes flashed open as you sat back up. The footsteps left again.
You found your underwear scatted on the bedroom floor and slipped it on quickly along with your dress. You were still holding the cozy hoodie in your arms when you made your way down the hallway and found Yoongi sitting at the kitchen counter. There was a laptop opened in front of him and a coffee in his hand. He rubbed his eyes when he felt your gaze on him and turned to you.
"Hi," you said with a small smile but didn't feel any less awkward.
Yoongi closed the laptop behind him and stood up. "Hi," he exhaled as thoughts stormed behind his eyes. There was a look on his face that you could not read.
"Do you want some coffee?" he offered.
"Sure," you nodded and came closer as he grabbed a cup for you. You placed Yoongi's hoodie on the counter by his laptop. His eyes flickered to it before they returned to you face as he handed you the coffee.
"Thanks," you accepted the drink gratefully, just the scent of it giving you goosebumps.
"Are you okay?" Yoongi asked out of nowhere, catching you off guard.
"Me?" you blurted as you looked up at his dark eyes. He nodded a little. You wondered what he was thinking; you wanted to know so bad but there was no way of telling.
"I'm okay," you nodded before the two of you sat down at the counter together. "Why?" you almost whispered. Yoongi was watching your every move, every breath that you took that made your chest rise and lips part, your fingers tapping nervously against the white cup, the lashes surrounding your beautiful eyes that were looking at him in turn.
You didn't know it then but Yoongi read people for a living and that's why you couldn't read him.
"You've never done this before," said Yoongi. His voice was quiet and smooth but it made you feel almost as if it stripped you naked and not in a good way.
You licked your dry lips as your stomach twisted into painful, anxious knots. He hurt your pride, though, and that hurt even worse. "If you didn't enjoy it, why didn't you just ask me to leave?" you said, almost snapping because no matter how hard you tried not to care, you did.
Yoongi's expression went blank for a moment before he realized what you thought he was insinuating and a smile broke on his lips. "I enjoyed it, that's not what I was saying," he looked down and remembered every second of it. He enjoyed it, he enjoyed it too much - enough to make him want to keep you there forever.
For some reason, Yoongi's genuine reaction made your cheeks even redder but it also made you feel more comfortable, especially now that your pride has been restored and even swelled. His smile was warm and honest unlike the formidable frown you saw him wearing last night at the club. Although in all honesty, you doubted that those guys would have just turned around and left you alone if he hadn't.
"I was just wondering why did you do it?" explained Yoongi. You licked your lips again and looked down at your coffee. You shook your head a little as everything came back to you.
"My best friend decided to cut me out of her life and I wanted to forget about everything," you told the truth when you looked up at Yoongi. As he watched you, he wondered if you had been as close to your friend as he was to his brothers. Even if you weren't, he understood.
"Listen, I ... I was wondering if you could still take me home," you asked slowly and remembered what you said last night. "To my place, I mean ... If it's not too big an inconvenience."
"I'll take you," said Yoongi. "I'll need to know where to pick you up for dinner tonight."
Hoseok
You were dancing with your friends when your eyes locked with a gorgeous man sitting in the VIP section. He was having a drink alone until the security guard let a young man pass into his section. He seemed more like a school boy rather than an adult. The handsome stranger kept his eyes on you a moment longer before he turned to the kid and you found yourself blushing. You turned to your friends and tried not to think about him although it was easier said than done. When you turned around, however, the stranger was no longer there. You frowned a little but figured he was way out of your league anyways and continued dancing.
The club became more crowded by the hour. You pushed your way through the dancing crowd to the bar.
"Can I get a bottle of water, please?" you shouted at the barman over the loud music. He nodded absently, swaying to the rhythm of the music. As you looked across the packed club, you knew it was your time to leave.
"What are we drinking?" asked a smooth voice beside you. You turned and came face to face with the handsome guy from the VIP section.
"It's you," you blurted unintentionally although the loud music hid your surprise a little. The man had a smile on his lips that made your tummy swirl with butterflies.
"Here you go," said the bartender as he sat your bottle of water on the bar. His eyes went to the stranger beside you whilst you thanked him.
"Mr Jung, the usual?" asked the bartender. He stayed still this time and paid attention, no longer dancing to the music and taking orders absently.
You looked at the man beside you. He was smiling still as his eyes shifted between your water and back to your eyes.
"Do you want to have a drink with me?" he asked politely. You stared at him conflicted.
"I ... I was just about to leave," you confessed although the offer was more than tempting. Jung leaned down closer to you, his perfume giving you goosebumps, and you repeated what you said.
"You're not having a good time?" he asked, his eyes taking in every feature of your face.
"No, I did," you said quickly. "But there's too many people now."
"Somewhere quiet then?" asked Jung, his face only inches away from yours. You couldn't help but glance at his beautiful lips and bit yours. Your heart was beating against your throat with excitement.
You nodded.
Before you knew it, you were in a beautiful penthouse apartment sitting on a soft sofa whilst the man, who you learned was Jung Hoseok, opened a bottle of wine. For a moment, you thought that you were in a dream. You were a little tipsy from the club but only so much that you didn't worry about the little things and not enough that it would keep you from feeling slightly nervous.
You had a sip of wine.
"You okay?" asked Hoseok, now sitting beside you as you faced one another. "Want me to take you home?"
"No, I'm okay," you said truthfully. You had never done this before and in your imagination - based on what your friends told you - it was anything but this. The wine, the beautiful apartment, the gorgeous man who made even the most confident parts of yourself feel self-conscious. You imagined it would be in the back of a car somewhere with both you and the random guy you danced with drunk out of your minds.
"I saw the way you danced," said Hoseok, one of his arms outstretched towards you over the back of the sofa, nearly touching your hair.
You blushed and laughed a little. "I can't dance," you shook your head and placed down your glass. Hoseok did the same.
"I beg to differ," said Hoseok, his voice deep and quiet enough to make your heart skip a beat. Your lips parted as you sat only inches apart. Hoseok glanced at your lips before his gaze returned to your eyes. Your butterflies turned into fireworks.
You scooted even closer and caressed his cheek before your lips melted into a soft but passionate kiss. Hoseok's hand slip up your thigh and to your waist where his fingers dug into your soft skin. You couldn't suppress a small moan as he pulled you into his lap and deepened the kiss. Hoseok's hand moved from your knee, beneath your skirt and up your thigh.
You pulled away from the kiss breathlessly. "I've never done this before," you confessed, hoping that he won't change his mind.
"It's okay," murmured Hoseok against your lips, his eyes closed.
"No, not just the one-night stand," you said quietly but responded to his kiss. "I've never ..." You shook your head a little. Hoseok's eyes opened. You couldn't tell what it was that you saw; there was desire and disbelief and something else that you couldn't point out.
"I want to do it," you asserted before Hoseok could even ask. Your fingers were tangled in his hair. "If you're okay with it," you licked your lips, feeling his hot breath on your skin. Hoseok didn't have to say anything - his eyes spoke for him. He found your lips again. His hands slid beneath your thighs as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom.
Hoseok pulled off his shirt immediately before he helped you out of your dress. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with you between his legs as he took off your clothes and his dark gaze worshiped your body. His mouth was parted, a small shadow of a smirk hiding in the corner of his lips as he looked up at you. Your skin was prickling with fever when you pushed your hair on the side of your neck and kissed him. Hoseok pulled you down to his lap so that you were sitting on one of his thighs with your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips guided your kiss expertly. For a moment, you felt self-conscious about your lack of experience compared to him, but his touch made you forget about everything. One of his arms was locked around your waist whilst the other roamed up your thigh. Hoseok's fingers found their way beneath the hem of your underwear as he squeezed your bum tightly, making you moan against his lips. Hoseok took his hand back and traced the hemline of your waist until he reached the front but he never broke the deep kiss. His long fingers caressed over the fabric of your underwear and slid down to your pussy. His middle and ring finger grazed through your crease, finding the fabric completely soaked through. You gasped at his gentle but confident touch, your pussy throbbing beneath his fingers.
Hoseok pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes, a soft grin in the corner of his lips when he saw how needy you were. Your glossy eyes begged him not to tease you and he obliged. Hoseok kissed you again, more hungrily now as the fingers of his one hand dug into the soft flesh of your waist and of the other pushed your underwear aside and caressing you skin to skin. You whimpered when his thumb found your clit and drew circles against it whilst he stroked the rest of you with his two long fingers. Hoseok didn't even have to slide his fingers inside of you to make you come because you were already gasping and moaning against his neck. He decided to push you a little further and dipped his fingers inside of you. Another whimper filled your mouth, followed by a series of cries as you reached another climax and your thighs began to quiver.
"That's it," groaned Hoseok quietly against your ear as he let you rest against his neck. "Look how well you did." He wrapped both of his arms around you and held you close. If he hadn't already been rock hard from seeing your body and touching you, the look of drunken pleasure on your face would have done it for him.
Hoseok left small, tender kisses down your neck. "You smell so nice," he murmured when he felt your fingers run through the hair on the back of his head. You moved your lips to his shoulder and kissed him, slowly reaching up his neck and jaw until you found his lips. He tasted and felt so good that you never wanted to break the kiss and for a while longer your wish would be granted.
Hoseok took off his trousers and found a condom whilst you pulled off your underwear. His eyes watched you as you did so, another rush of desire shooting through him.
"Come here," muttered Hoseok as he climbed on top of you and pulled you closer. He found your lips again, kissing you and kissing you until you were breathless and reaching for him. A whimper-like moan escaped your mouth when he entered you slowly, his hand holding down one of your wrists. You frowned in pleasure as your fingers dug into the small of his back. Hoseok was watching you, checking on you although there was no need. You only wanted more.
Hoseok moved his hips, entering you deeper and deeper. You winced from sensitivity and pleasure whenever he touched your clit. You went to touch yourself but Hoseok took your wrists and pinned them beside your head as he stopped thrusting his hips. You opened your pleasure-drunk eyes and saw him watching you with an amused look in his dark irises.
"Not yet," he said to you and let go of your wrists as he almost sat up. He took in the sight of your body - little silvers of your come on your stomach where he traced his fingers, your breasts and nipples perfect to touch and kiss and stroke, but most of all the dreamy look in your eyes.
"Look at you ..." Hoseok said to himself. "How pretty you are for me, little kitten," he murmured as he came back down and gave you a kiss different from the others.
Hoseok began moving his hips again, this time his pace faster and his length entering you fully. Your mouth was full of soft moans as you inched closer again. Hoseok reached down and caressed your little sweet spot, making your thighs quiver in matter of seconds. Even as you came again, Hoseok didn't slow down but picked up his pace instead. His fingers were soaked with your come when he locked them with yours, his other hand propped against the bed when he came as well. He squeezed your hand tightly before he released it. Hoseok leaned his forehead against yours, his chest heaving as you felt him throb deep inside of you. Your legs were wrapped around his hips even after he was done and he was in no hurry of pulling out.
***
Come morning, a small moan caught in your throat as you turned in the soft bed and buried your face into the soft pillow. You stretched your sore legs before you blinked slowly and adjusted to the morning light. It took you a moment to remember last night, and when you did, your face was flushed and your eyes grew wide open. Your heart was pumping hard in your chest when you sat up and looked around the spacious bedroom. The mattress beside you was empty but you could hear little noises coming from the rest of the apartment.
You got out of bed and tiptoed around the carpet as you collected your underwear and your dress. The bathroom door was cracked open and you slipped inside. You got dressed and washed your face, holding a hand of cool water against the back of your neck as you struggled to clear your head of the memories of last night. Your insides were tingling with butterflies just at the thought of Hoseok touching your body - you didn't even know how you would look him in the eye later. Perhaps you wouldn't even have to, you thought, remembering all the stories your friends told you about horrible one-night stands. Your heart sunk a little at the idea, but on the other hand, you couldn't expect much else from this.
You brushed your hair with your fingers as you made your way down the hallway, following the sounds that were coming from the kitchen.
Jung Hoseok was standing behind the kitchen isle, a neat wooden tray sitting on top of it. There was a croissant, a bowl of mixed berries, a glass of orange juice and he had just placed a cup of coffee on there as well. His sharp eyebrows were arched in a frown and his lips were parted slightly. He wore a classic white shirt and a pair of elegant black trousers with a metallic watch glimmering on his wrist. Hoseok's dark eyes looked up at you suddenly when he felt someone watching him.
"Good morning," he spoke, his formidable frown replaced immediately with a warm smile like sunshine breaking through a storm. You blushed.
"Hi," you greeted as you fixed the thin strap of your dress and came a little bit closer. "Should I ..." you asked carefully, gesturing in the direction of the exit if you remembered correctly from last night.
Hoseok frowned a little. "You don't have to leave yet," he said, his eyes glancing down at your exposed shoulders. "I made you breakfast."
"It's for me?" you asked, the corners of your eyebrows curved downwards when you looked at the beautiful tray.
"Of course," smiled Hoseok. "Sit down." As he made his way past you, his hand touched your waist and his lips kissed your cheek.
"I'll be right back."
His touch left tingles on your skin as you watched him disappear down the hallway before you sat down at the kitchen isle. The fresh smell of berries and the crisp scent of the pastry invited you. You took the coffee first, however, and took a sip before you wrapped your cold hands around the warm porcelain.
"Here," said Hoseok when he appeared beside you. He handed you a soft black hoodie and you looked up at him surprised. There were goosebumps on your arms and the morning was much colder than the hot night when you were dancing in the club.
"How did you sleep?" asked Hoseok with a smile as he grabbed his own cup of coffee and sat down beside you after you pulled on his hoodie and melted into its softness.
"Great, thank you," you nodded and stole a few berries from the neat white bowl. You were about to ask him the same but he spoke first.
"How are you feeling?" Hoseok smile faded a little as a soft frown gathered on his handsome face. You stopped chewing for a moment, taken back by the question, and your cheeks grew pink.
"I'm okay," you said more quietly now and focused on your coffee cup.
"Are you sure?" asked Hoseok. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest as he took in every little detail of your beautiful face. He kept thinking how he should have been gentler and how he should have asked you more if you were okay. Hoseok was well aware that you were practically strangers but there was something that drew him to you, that made him want to protect you and take care of you at any cost.
Hoseok tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle gesture made you look up into his warm, dark eyes.
"Yeah," you nodded. "I'm great, it was great."
Hoseok studied your features a moment longer but you were telling the truth. In fact, your words were an understatement about how you felt about last night.
You bit your lip as you couldn't help but glance at Hoseok's lips, wondering what it would be like to have him kiss you again. But you knew it was just a one time thing and that you were done now.
You looked away but Hoseok saw everything and it made his heart skip a beat.
"Have dinner with me tonight?" he asked out of nowhere, the question sounding more as a statement. Your gaze shot up at him.
"What?" you almost stuttered.
"Have dinner with me tonight," Hoseok spoke again; this time there was no room for question.
"But ... you barely know me," you shook your head a little although the thought of it awoke every last butterfly in your body.
"I'll get to know you," said Hoseok quietly as a small smile grew on his features and he leaned in closer. Your eyes fell to his beautiful lips and a sharp breath caught in the back of your throat.
"Okay," you nodded weakly when you saw Hoseok's gaze shift from your eyes to your lips.
"Good." Hoseok closed the space between you as his lips found yours, making your tummy explode with fireworks.
#bts fiction#bts mafia#bts#bts edit#bts gang#namjoon#jin#yoongi#jhope#hoseok#suga#rm#jimin#taehyung#v#masterlist#bts masterlist#mafia#fiction#bts imagine#bts mafia reactions#bts mafia au#bts aesthetic#kim seokjin#kim namjoon#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook
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Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.
“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.
“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.
He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.
This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.
Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head.
Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.
“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused.
It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam.
“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking.
Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain.
“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”
Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you?
“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it.
They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of.
“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for.
—
Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you.
Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you.
“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”
He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.
You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much.
He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary.
“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words.
You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.
“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”
He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad.
“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”
The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.
—
You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away.
You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started.
So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.
Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always one of patience.
You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.
“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.
His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.
You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.
He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.
“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.
You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.
“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.
That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.
“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”
He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.
—
“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”
The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves.
Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up.
The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh.
How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over.
—
Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself.
“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do.
He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.
“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day.
Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort.
You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve.
When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little.
“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”
He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet.
“Doyouhateme?”
The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.
“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”
You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him.
“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”
That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence?
Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face.
—
You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did.
The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm.
If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped.
Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged.
He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to.
“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.
Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence.
“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer.
“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.
He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.
“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.
He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.
“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”
You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.
“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”
“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”
—
The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted.
The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out.
And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.
“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.
He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.
“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”
You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.
“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.
“No.”
“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.
“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”
“You can’t b-“
Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.
Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.
You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.
You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.
The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow.
No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame.
—
“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.
“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.
“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn’t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.
“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”
“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not.
“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”
He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?
“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”
He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good.
“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.
Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.
“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”
“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”
“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”
“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”
“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”
The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.
The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.
“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”
Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.
“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”
—
If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear.
You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?
Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.
You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?
His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.
His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread.
He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.
The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself.
They lied.
They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust.
You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you.
“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you.
They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.
“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”
Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out.
You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again.
He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.
“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you.
—
When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.
It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.
Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.
He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.
He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.
What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?
Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.
The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.
—
He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.
“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.
It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.
“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.
Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.
“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly.
“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth.
“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.
“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”
“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.
“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.
The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says.
“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…
“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.
“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”
Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched.
“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”
“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks.
“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there.
The older four men look at eachother knowingly.
“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously.
“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”
As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.
Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.
#this chapter has very little Namjoon (although I feel he makes an impact) but that’s okay the next chapter is Namjoon centric#bts au#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts angst#bts ot7 x reader#bts yandere!au#bts yandere#yandere bts#bts imagines#bts writing#bts mafia!au#bts mafia series#bts mafia au#namjoon mafia au#yandere namjoon#yandere seokjin#jin x you#yandere yoongi#yoongi au#yandere hoseok#hoseok mafia au#hobi au#jimin x you#yandere jimin#taehyung x reader#yandere taehyung#jungkook x reader#jungkook mafia#yandere jungkook
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Before I Leave You (Pt.76)
Summary: Your Pre-heat fever builds and builds and builds until it breaks.
Tags: forced caretaking, Preheat, scenting, nesting, mindless fluff, hurt/comfort, omega/omega content, possessive behavior, omegaspace, lactation kink, Jin's hormones briefly convince him that the m/c is his actual pup, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, tummy worship?, nipple play, manhandling, heavy petting, fingering, exhibitionism, jk gets a little pussy obsessed, slight jk focus, slick marking, a tiny bit of ass play, slight painplay, implied/foreshadowed womb fucking, hole check, gentle spanking, dom! namjoon, d/s,
W/c: 12.3k
A/n: so it's once again birthday pup time for me! i'm going to be turning twenty eight! i can't believe it's my birthday already! as with my usual birthday tradition- i have made a little amazon wish list. it's been three years since I first did this and my room is littered with the little things you guys have gotten me over the years. I still sleep under the big duvet you guys got me and it's my favorite thing <3 the love you guys give me during my birthday always leaves me feeling warm for months.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
Jungkook’s whole face is parked between your thighs, sweaty cheeks, chiseled jaw resting uncomfortably against your hip bones, Curling locks and all.
That’s the first thing that alerts you to the pack's predicament when you begin to wake up the next morning in the heat nest. There are raised voices nearby. Someone is upset, not angry. But upset.
A wide back rumbles behind you, and the uneasy scents dissipate.
All of your stuffed animals are piled around you, your jellycats and the special extra soft ones that Jimin and Tae got you. You can distantly remember reaching for them sometime during the early morning and whining. Yoongi’s voice pitched low and sweet.
“This one little lovely? How about this one?” a finger rubs against your cheek, running through your peach fuzz accompanied by a quiet hum of approval. “My broody little omega, just wanna keep all your small and cute things safe huh? So soft and little. Just wanna show the alphas that you can take care of small things in your nest, right?”
You remember whining and nuzzling, trying to tell him without words (words are so so hard in omegaspace) that you didn’t really care about showing the icky alphas resting too close in the hallway. All you care about is showing him.
Now as you wake, things are less simple. There are tense voices and scents all around you. A tangle of them no longer sour but still alpha. Jin has not let them into the nest yet but you're starting to need them- starting to think that even if they are icky you might as well just…be close to them. Something small and furry and desperate claws for them in your chest. For Namjoonie, Hobi, Jiminie, and Tae Tae Tae- in your chest. A need that had been quiet yesterday but is loud today.
The need for her rises up now like a rabid animal. Tae Tae Tae. All in your head. At least you think it might be all in your head- you can feel your mouth moving and someone coming close. A silky pant leg brushes your thigh as she starts to move only to get held back.
"You shouldn't- Tae- Jin will get mad."
Your instincts quiet at the sound of them and you begin to wake. You're not in heat yet. Not yet, but the fever is building. A slow drip starting to spill out around the edges. The surface tension in your being trembling and twitching. Burning through you and turning your mind crumbly and hazy at the edges.
“How’s her temperature?” You hear a distant voice ask. Joonie alpha. Your mind identifies.
You feel a wide familiar palm against your forehead. Your throat. “Still a little cold- thank you Jinnie- what a good omega keeping our pup warm.” More fluffy blankets get dumped on top of you and you feel like you’re buried beneath layers and layers of clouds. The shimmering delight on the edge of your instincts. a high keening sound and a low alpha growl.
They don't smell quite so rancid as they did yesterday but they still smell sour. You have a sinking feeling it has nothing to do with their pheromones or hormones and more to do with the moment. What they’re discussing.
But what could they ever possibly have to be afraid of? Your alphas are awfully strong and protective of you. In a nest so lovely and so soft there is nothing that could possibly hurt you. Jinnie made it so well you're half convinced it could keep monsters out.
You feel a hiss building in your throat at the idea of a particular monster. Distant in your memories but never far for long. The ickiest of alphas. Never. You rub your face harder into the object to your left. A sensation- a finger trails down your scent gland, touching where it aches. Nudging a whine from your throat.
But there is nothing at all bad here…Besides Kookie.
He's so sweaty and sticky that it's a little bit gross. It wouldn't be a problem if he wasn't laying all of his body weight into you and pressing his face anywhere your skin is bare. He clings, his hands sliding under your behind and hips to hold you close, face pressed to a spot that makes you shiver from the intensity, the sensitiveness, that every breath makes against your barely covered tummy.
Jungkook noses first into your navel and then lower. Little breaths of air and his chin tickling where you’re most sensitive. The scent of slick is cloying on the air, you have no idea if it’s his or yours or Jin’s.
Huh, That's a little strange.
Jungkook's not usually so clingy with you in the morning. Usually, he reserves this particular trend of endless nuzzling for the alphas. He's holding you so tight that you couldn't even squirm away if you wanted to, rubbing his cheek over and over again along your thighs, your stomach, your pussy.
He rubs his cheek along the space between your thigh and hip and purrs. Loud and rumbly, vibrating against your front. You reach down sleepy, brushing his hair away from his face. You wish the alphas would let him sleep- but the sound of tense voices is making you feel sensitive and whiney.
"I can smell it hyung, don't tell me you can't- and look at the way he's-”
Jungkook turns and snaps his teeth at them and they fall silent. You lift up your head a little.
Jin's perched on the edge of the nest half in Namjoon’s lap. The pack alpha leans against the doorway as Jin dozes against his throat. Tae mirrors them on the other side of the pocket French doors. Wrapped in a duvet from one of the decoy nests and clutching a steaming cup of coffee.
A glass jug of electrolyte mix sits between them and a few cups of coffee leave rings on the floor. Colorful plastic cups stacked nearby. Steam rising in sweet ribbons. Hobi stands there in the doorway, stretches, and yawns. Revealing inches of toned tummy that your eyes fixate on. Distantly you remember, "one sip of caffine isn't going to hurt Jinnie, Namjoon."
"Sorry pups- we didn't mean to wake you-" Tae is in bright red pj's, the kind patterned with small dark flowers, silky and impenetrable. You want them in the nest the second you see them. But- but-
You look down, and Jungkook's cheeks are just as red. Flushed and sweaty. His hips cocked at a weird angle; one leg hitched up in a position that looks wrong. He looks like he’s uncomfortable.
“Koo?” You ask, but he just lets out a small chirp. “What? Why are you-”
A hand in your hair makes you look up. Jimin is standing there, pursing his lips, looking down at you conflicted. Light streams in through a crack in the gauzy curtains, cutting across his waist, the spot where his shirt rides up on his hips revealing inches of honey skin and the line of his hipbones.
Your blunt omega teeth feel precariously sharp in your mouth. Two parts wanting and one part terror. Jimin, alpha, alpha in the nest. Alpha in the heat nest, alpha alpha alpha.
Jimin knows your terror, letting his shoulders slump and his scent spill out- unthreatening. Your panic eases away. “I was just fixing the curtains. They were making Jinnie uneasy.” The pack omega says nothing, settling up on Namjoon’s shoulder, looking like he’s falling asleep too. A strip of pale blue spring sky is visible only through the very top of the curtains.
“Minnie? What’s wrong with Koo? Why is he?” Jimin’s small smile falters, and you can tell he doesn’t want to say it. Whatever it is that the alphas were talking about.
Behind you, a warm chest moves, it's Yoongi. Soft and firm against your back. His chest expanding buffers you like gentle waves during a summer storm, gentle and lulling. It’s very hard to stay awake. So warm and so cuddled.
But Jungkook…
Your mate's voice is low in your ears, but his hand joins yours in pushing Jungkook's hair away from his sweaty face. Pinching his cheeks until Jungkook's tongue lolls out, licking Yoongi's fingers. It's lewd and it's hungry. You squirm back against Yoongi and at the smell of your slick.
So close to Jungkook's face, that you can't avoid it being scented on the air. A lax grin stretches Jungkook’s face, eyelashes fluttering, his smile dopey and out of it.
Yoongi's voice is rough from disuse, making your stomach swoop. Jungkook pushes against Yoongi's touch trying to get back to your stomach back between your legs. Chirping and trilling his displeasure. Trying to burrow and nuzzle through Yoongi’s hands unsuccessfully.
“Koo was feeling a little left out.”
“No,” you whisper, your stomach dropping for a whole other reason. Surprise making you lucid. “Really?”
Jungkook blinks, pouting. A little dazed. “I fucking hate cramps. Hyung- let go-” Yoongi lets Jungkook’s face go and he plants himself right back between your thighs. Nuzzling and shuffling until you let him closer. His face lowers to get closer to where you’re most sensitive. You try and stop him but Jungkook growls and you quiet.
The alpha’s watch as Jungkook nuzzles between your legs, nothing more than a thin layer of fabric to keep the smell of slick and all of where you’re most sensitive from Jungkook. Cheek squished against your pussy, soft breaths tickling your inner thigh. Jungkook settles and huffs.
Jimin runs a finger down your cheek but you hardly notice, still looking down at Jungkook, an upset pout already forming on your face.
"Oh," you're almost teary-eyed with it. You can't imagine Jungkook feeling as sensitive, as scared, as needy as you feel. It's upsetting, the fact that your nestmate is feeling so- so…and you can't- that he’s going into heat and you’re not-
You understand why Jin got upset yesterday. Having nestmates is different than having alphas or mates. There is a special corner of your instincts dedicated to taking care of them that hates this; all going into heat at the same time.
A smaller more wicked voice whispers other things, facts you dare not voice;
If alpha knocks you all up at once then you can all be pretty and round in the nest together. You can get all sweet with milk at the same time as Jungkook and Jin. It would be so easy- being pupped with Jungkook and Jin. Your sensitive sensitive tummy feels so unsafe, like this, Jungkook sleepily pulling up your shirt so that all of the alpha’s can see.
You shouldn’t be like this- you should both be belly down in the nest, you need to hide it from the alpha’s and leave it just for your nestmates to touch. Guarding you- that's what jungkook is doing. keeping your tummy safe from the alpha's until he deems you ready to be bred by them.
You want it. All of you safe and round and full, claimed by your alpha's in a way that sticks. You should stay close to him- make sure that alpha breeds him proper. All of them should breed Jungkook at least once just to make sure it takes.
Yoongi sets a hand over your stomach, and Jungkook tries to nip at it, to keep him away. Yoongi just pushes at his nose, a little playful. Jungkook grins, panting through his teeth. "Calm down pup, it's okay, Jungkook's gonna be fine. all three of your heats is nothing we can't handle."
Behind you, Tae snorts. hobi pinches her arm in repremand and she swats his hand away.
You nod wetly, but it’s hard to quiet your sniffles. Jimin leaves the nest, carefully stepping over the border so that he doesn't mess it up. Hoseok grabs his arm to steady him. Mindful of Jin’s boundaries that get momentarily tread over as Namjoon picks him up, helping with the aid of Tae and Jimin, to get Jinnie back into the nest.
With all of them looming over you, you feel incredibly small. looking and watching hungrily as they gently puppet the pack omega and lie him down. kind of on top of your plushie pile- but you don't mind- that's why you made it anyways. Jin sleepilly starts to tug them close, the soft and small things clutched to his chest.
The alpha's linger above you. looking down and watching. their feet depressing the nest where they stand.
Jungkook sighs against your thigh. "S'okay, at least now it's all of us together."
Omegaspace isn’t something you’ve seen on Jungkook as frequently as you would have liked. But there’s a childish pout to his lips. Cute, that you want to kiss at. Want to nibble. "Alphas don't even need to help- just Jinnie and me and Yoomi."
That gets a laugh out of the rest of them, Yoomi is a new nickname for your mate that leaves him smiling a little. You look up at him, eyes drooping and struggling to stay awake. You happen to agree but words are hard so you just settle for purring. Behind Jimin, you can see Hobi watching, smiling.
Jimin leans around the doorway and raises his eyebrow at Jungkook, as far as he dares to go into the nest room without permission. "You'll be begging for my knot later for that pup."
Jungkook huffs, "Won't, promise, not gonna ask for an icky-smelling alpha."
Jimin cocks head, "Is that so? Then maybe I should only knot Jinnie and her if you're so sure you won't need it."
Jungkook seems to second guess himself, "hyung wait- you can knot me just not-"
"I'm just teasing."
Jungkook huffs, nuzzling back between your legs, "meanie"
It feels strange, not necessarily sexual- having Jungkook's face pressed between your legs. There's a zing of pleasure at the touch, sure, but Yoongi holds your hips and keeps you still so that Jungkook can get comfortable. Holding you stationary so that you won't move against the feeling of his nose nuzzling over your underwear.
His low voice is husky in your ear as he whispers, “That’s it pup, let Jungkookie and then you can- there you go. No- No rubbing. Be a good pup and settle.”
You feel yourself clench weakly and when you open your eyes, Namjoon is watching you from the doorway. Eyes dark and scent unrepentantly sweet and musky. You don’t mind him watching. The sight of all of his omegas in a heat nest is one that he’s allowed to indulge in. Tae too- wraps around his arm with her head resting on his shoulder.
Every minute the alpha’s are allowed closer, last night they weren’t allowed in the doorway, now, one at a time in the nest. It’s only a matter of time before all bets are off and they’re all allowed here.
Jungkook settles once he finds the right spot on your plush thigh. His warm breath easing away the remaining ache in your core. The cramps are better now but not entirely gone yet. Your body preparing itself for your alpha's, making room for their cocks and their knots.
You wonder if you'll be able to take Namjoon's unprepped. You're almost dizzy with the thought of it. You wonder what it's going to feel like- having him fuck you through your heat along with Jungkook and Jin. Namjoon's knot would be the best- the exact things your cramps need. Soon the cramping will fade and the need to be filled will take its place, you can already feel it a little.
Namjoon watches Jungkook nuzzle, you part your thighs further to show and-
Yoongi's teeth bite into the back of your neck, the same second Jungkook’s clamp on your inner thigh, not hard- just enough for you to feel it.
Yoongi's words swallow your whine. "Calm pup- not yet- not until the pack omega says you can." Not until I say you can.
Even having the alphas a little too close could trigger your heat too soon. They're doing their best, trying to stay away. With Jin and Jungkook the risk of triggering a heat isn't quite so scary. But with you, it’s a little unpredictable. The last thing they want to do is have it come too quick.
Jungkook is a good omega. He won't let any alphas come close until Jin says so. Literally guarding your stomach and womb from a knot. It's a little cute, even if it is a little lewd. He grumbles out something unintelligible before he huffs one final time and goes back to sleep. Shuffling his hips, a little, legs splaying like he's trying to alleviate the ache there a little.
There is some murmuring, the rest of them talking over each other while you look down at Jungkook and comb through his hair, Yoongi's fingers dancing across his jaw, hovering on his lower lip, and Jungkook returns to nuzzling into your stomach.
“Three omegas in heat- how are we going to do this?”
Tae's hand grips Jimin's, squeezing hard as they stand in the nest. Namjoon fluffs a blanket over Jin's back. the pack omega's hands deftly tangling with a stuffed bunny you have. ordinarily- jin would never cuddle with your stuffed animals like this- but it fills you with a sense of soft chagrined. The pack omega can want these things, can like these things, nesting doesn't always have to be about protecting- it can just feel nice too.
It doesn't have to be scary, it's feeling less scary already. you don't mind that the alpha's are here, standing around you three and yoongi.
“We’ll manage, same way we always do.” She turns, hair fluffing, she's taken it out of her rollers already and it falls in soft waves. She looks soft, looks like she belongs in the nest. You're glad she's here. You crane your neck and Tae notices, stooping slightly to touch your cheek.
"Mommy alpha? Please?" you start, and behind you, Yoongi mutters a curse.
Tae says nothing, a gentle smile spreading her cheeks, touch your cheek. They're doing alot of that- you wonder why? Your cheeks feel awfully pink and feverish, sensitive there.
The alphas are starting to smell nicer, very very nice, not sweet and cloying like Jin and Jungkook- but musky and tempting. You nuzzle into Tae’s wrist, nose searching for more of the scent. Her fingers itch towards the back of your neck. A scruff would make you so pliant and docile- and she wants to hear you squeak and purr more- like last night.
But Jungkook sits up, eyes beady, snapping his teeth. His hiss loud, "Mine" he's crouched low, prepared to pounce, mouth cleaved open in a snarl- guarding the nest and you. Tae's eyes go wide and Namjoon grabs her around her wrist.
"Kookie-" Namjoon tries to start, but Jungkook just hisses again.
You feel like you're further along than Jungkook is in your pre-heat, the restlessness in you quieted to a tired hum. You comb your hands through his hair as the alpha's make themselves scarce. Tae sends you a long look over her shoulder, mouthing "Sorry pup."
Beside you. Jin sleeps on, a big big big stuffed animal of yours that you might have scented in a daze half asleep (sleep nesting- similar to sleepwalking) pinned under his body. Jin stays asleep unaware of the snapping and light squabbles. Chest rising and falling underneath a cut of sunlight.
The alphas take it in stride, giving Jungkook space. You doze in between minutes, turning sideways to tuck your face into Yoongi's throat and hide from the sunlight. The springtime sunshine streams through the window all yellow and golden. You listen to the distant thunder of your alpha's speaking. Yoongi shuffles out from under and behind you and whispers softly that he'll be back in a minute. You only grumble quietly, and listen to his conversation with the others in the hall.
The soft smacking sound of kisses. "Sorry did we-"
Jungkook nuzzles into your stomach. Distracting you from the conversation in the hall. "No, just need coffee,"
You close your eyes and breathe and when you open your them you can watch the dustmotes swirl above you. Catching the light.
"Thank you- I'm sorry we didn't-" Jimin cuts himself off.
"It's find- Koo just-" Yoongi makes a disconcerting noise. Not a trill but a question without an answer. "You okay?"
If Jimin answers, you can't see it. The world slipping away under the guise of sleep.
"Koo's is hitting quick." that sentence gets no answer. No acknowledgment.
They’re unsure when exactly it will hit either by tonight or tomorrow morning if you’re lucky. You don’t need to ask what the alphas did last night, but as you listen to them in the hall- rolling up some blankets (a decoy nest sacrificed for a sleeping spot.)
You gather that either one or all of them slept outside of the door last night, guarding the door and keeping you safe from any potential intruders. The only people who are allowed to freely come and go is of course- Noodle and Yoongi.
You must nod off at one point, because the next time you wake Jungkook has pulled himself up a little, head resting just below your ribs and Jin is lifting his head up out from under your stuffed animal pile. Sighing sleepily he scents Jungkook’s preheat on the air, dragging himself close to rub a soothing hand down Jungkook’s back. Looking down at the other omega and biting his lips.
At the pack omega's closeness, jungkook's arms tighten around your waist. “They’re not going to hurt us Koo, you can let go.” Jungkook's arms only tighten around your waist further in answer.
“Can’t! Something bad is gonna happen if I let go!” Jin sighs, and you try and tell him with your eyes that it’s fine- that Jungkook can stay right here like this if it helps him, you really don’t mind.
He leans over you, pressing his nose to your scent gland but you make a noise and pull away. “Your face is scratchy.”
Jin sits back on his heels, rubbing at his face almost angry, frustrated “God damn it.”
“Come on hyung you love my heats-”
Jin scoffs, “Yeah but you-“ he seems to get ahold of himself. He pulls himself over to your and Jungkook’s quiet cuddle. Your legs, Jungkook's, Jin's. You don't know why you're still so tired, even after sleeping the whole night and most of the morning away, exhaustion pulls you down like a lead weight.
The next time you come to your mate's hands pet through your hair and ask if any of you need anything. Yoongi feeds you sips of that electrolyte mix, rubbing across your jaw to get you to swallow down all of it. Clumsy with sleep, a bit of it dripping down your chin that Jungkook eagerly licks at. Lapping at the salt from your lips when you're done in reward.
But the three of you doze, three sleepy omega’s in a nest with little care to the world of the clattering outside in the kitchen and the smell of cooking food. Bread maybe? Pancakes?
Something sweet and syrupy eventually gets pressed against your lips, a strong arm around your waist, a soft croon- one of your alpha’s but it’s hard to tell who that says, “Open up- good puppy.”
Yoongi practices his massage on Jungkook- pushing aches out of all of you with his thumbs and his laughter. You and Jin share the heating pad after breakfast. Pressed first over Jin’s lap and then yours as you press closer and closer until your stomach is pressed up against Jin’s.
Nesting with them is sort of your favorite thing. You don't even mind that the alpha's have joined you in the nest during breakfast. They're still careful and they're still mindful. But it doesn't feel so scary- having them close.
To be pressed belly to belly with your pack omega makes you feel so small your eyelids droop further. Hands loosely tangled with Jin's shirt, his tank top too- one like Hobi's.
Hobi who gets up after breakfast, hair fluffed from a thorough scenting. Jungkook is really good at scenting, knows just how to rub his cheek into the alpha’s until they’re blushing and smelling musky. He’s very intent and particular with it and squirms closer and closer to them until Namjoon detangles him and tells him off.
Hobi sees a break in it and leaves the nest, something you're not allowed to do. Every time you even think to shift away from Jin, he tugs you closer.
“Pup, my pup,” Jin’s going in and out of lucidity, and he cradles you to his chest, eyes dark pools, pupils completely dilated. Hands grasping at your waist, your back, the back of your neck urging you lower, not too low- not in that way.
Jin stops around his heart, tugging you to his chest. Whining. “Pup too tiny, pup needs- I need-”
He holds you there, hand around the back of your neck. Your lips smushed against his skin. Your face pressed to his chest so close you can feel every thump of his heartbeat. You don't understand what Jin is trying to get you to do, at least not immediately.
Yoongi is there, it’s a good thing that he’s there. he takes Jin’s hands away from you and squeezes them. You blink blearily- unaware of just what Jin hints at, his whines of distress and near chirps that Yoongi shushes.
“Jinnie, baby- she is not actually your pup, you’re not-“ He sounds stressed. You want to tell him that you don’t mind but your words are hard to summon. Jin smells so good, his milky cream omega scent impossibly bright against your nose, almost citrussy.
“You don’t have milk sweet thing.”
You know that the instincts to protect and provide for pup and packmate get a little crossed in heats and ruts- but you never imagined that Jin would want to. Your toes curl, and full-body shivers erupt on your skin. Your eyes shoot open, immediately making eye contact with Yoongi- who looks stricken with something that looks an awful lot like arousal. Jin's chest heaves beneath you and he starts to tear up. Lower lip wobbling.
The heat beneath your skin bubbles up to meet him, and soon you'll melt away into nothing but sticky goey omega- you're sure of it. The embarrassment you feel at his urging is only quieted by the comfort you find in his touch, the way he holds you steady and tight. Almost captive. The idea of Jin- of your pack omega- doing that is-
Jin's big eyes are filling with tears, you have no doubt he’d be stomping his feet if he was standing if Yoongi wasn’t gently whipping those same tears away. Is this omegaspace? Is this what Jinnie looks like when he falls soft and sweet just as you do?
You have to help, you have to make him stop crying, filling the air with a rancid scent that's so different from his usual scent that it makes you want to cry too.
You nuzzle closer to his throat, where he's still sweet sweet milky. Lying your weight on his chest, he hisses at the sensitivity of having his nipples brush your shirt and you whimper too. Equally as sensitive there. Your hormones spiking wildly.
But you follow your instincts and the animal lurking beneath your skin that tells you to get your mouth on your pack omega and suck. Suckling on Jinnie’s scent gland, squishy and swollen under your teeth. Worrying away at it between your teeth.
That seems to settle him a bit, he goes lax under you almost instantly, sighing, coming up to cup the back of your head, urging you closer until you go dizzy with it. "Good omega- good little pup." Yoongi wipes a little saliva from your cheek, and your eyelashes flutter.
"The alphas- the alphas next- have to make sure everyone is taken care of- have to s'my pack, my pups." Jinnie babbles.
You wait until he settles and falls back asleep before you stop sucking at his skin and sit up. A little hazy at the edges. Pulling away. You've left several small red marks in your wake.
You’re starting to feel a little restless. Yesterday you’d thought that you could spend the rest of the month asleep and now? Now you fidget. Every time you try and leave the nest the alphas are there, corralling you back to it but you can’t help it. You want to look closer at Jin’s decoy nests in the hall, and the kitchen. You want to hunt down Noodle and maybe brush him a little. Brush him and give him treats and keep him closer and-
You hear the others smile when you say that, babbling mindlessly about this and that. And you know that it’s just your omegan nesting instincts, they’re the same instincts that you feel when you braid Jungkook’s hair, Tae’s too- perched on the edge of the nest. Keeping it away from their faces. Pressing your body along Tae’s side, hands guided by Jungkook, the three of you eat more breakfast to bulk up for the heat, for when you'll want little else but to fuck and be fucked.
But when your bellies are well and truly full, you roughhouse and play as pups do.
Jungkook pushes you down as you tease him by biting into his watermelon before he has a chance to steal the best bite, and he leans low to nip, imitating an alpha growl. It’s a way you’ve play wrestled before, an imitation of the way that Hobi and Jimin and Namjoon fight.
Only sometimes with Tae, less since she’s transitioned and she's deemed herself too delicate for alpha wrestling. You happen to agree.
She doesn't feel delicate when she drags you back by your hips, ignoring the way that they splay almost curious, when she lands a swat over your behind. Not that Jungkook gets any better treatment. Sides drawn over Namjoon's lap, giggling and squirming as half a dozen swats are dispensed over his behind. Just as zoomy as you are. Zoomy but sleepy.
The alphas are keeping an eye out for any sexual contact. “You’ll make it come too quick Koo- for both of you” Namjoon picks up Jungkook and put him back in the nest, away from you and not in the hall. Pouting up at your alpha.
"But hyung- we need to do something other than nap."
"Fine, you can go to the kitchen," Jungkook had perked up at that, "but not a walk Koo, I'm serious, if you were to go for a run right now, I'm not sure all of us could hold Jiminie back."
instincts chaff in strange ways. things that never would ordinarily irritate your alphas turn into grand offenses. like Clanging from the kitchen that comes with a loud shout and puttering feet. as if on queue jimin shouts from a room over.
"The mailman! The fucking mailman just put stuff in our mailbox! I should- I could-"
Tae leans out the door to shout down the hallway. Far away you hear noodle hiss- somewhat agreeing with Jimin’s frustrations.
"Jiminie- calm down, he's just doing his job, he's not here for our omega's."
Our omega's. You like the sound of that. You like the way Tae says it. 'Ours' has a nice ring to it. Relinquished briefly from your exhaustion and with permission- You and Jungkook are free from the nest- enough movement to sate your zoomies.
But not before a bath.
The alphas corral you one by one. You first, Jin second, and Jungkook last into the bathroom upstairs.
You're carried by Jimin and placed there (he almost drops you on the stairs because of how you nuzzle into his throat, his sensitive spot between his collar bones, and the skin over his pulse point is so tempting you can't resist a little nibble.) Tae follows close behind, watching the way your eyebrows pull together, peaking over Jimin's shoulder, teeth buried in his collar bones, and laugh. "Is Minnie yummy baby?"
You just bite down harder, and Jimin curses. His hands and arms remain firm and wrapped around you. Jimin would never drop you.
Huh, you should exploit that.
The shower is unexpectedly docile. Your wandering hands kept from wandering anywhere fun by Jimin's touch around your wrists. he holds you still no matter how much you whine and try to pull them out of his hands. You want to touch but they won't let you.
You try to peer at their knots but Tae picks up your chin and makes you look at just Jimin. You blink water out of your eyes. Jimin puts both your hands in one of his fists and then pushes his wet hair back from his face.
"If you look at us like that pup- what happens next won't be good. We have to make your heat come gentle."
"Gentle" you parrot weakly. Dazed. Shivering beneath the warm spray.
You whine and fight, but Jimin knows- senses you're doing it not to get away but because you like being held, like being manhandled and told what to do. You like the physical reminder that you’re not in control. It's like the play fighting- an imitation of something instinctual.
You squirm until you give in. Tae asks you to move and you move without thinking. Tae asks you to lift your arms and you lift your arms. Every “good pup” makes your brain hazy and your skin hum. Their pheromones are so thick in the air that you swear you can see them swirl. So close and confined to your alpha's your brain falls into a fugue state, almost trancelike.
Tae soaps up your body, cleaning you efficiently, trying not to linger, but it's hard when you keen at every touch, especially your chest, jolting in sensitivity. "I'm sorry pup- oh you're achy here? Mommy promises to kiss them better later." You like the idea of that. You curl close in Jimin's arms while Tae washes your hair. Hissing at every faint brush to your chest.
Places on you are sensitive that never were sensitive before. Your lower back, your chest, your throat. Tae drags the soap into circles and it feels like you spiral down and down. You know you'll be able to scrape together your brain later, but every time you go down into omegaspace it gets a little bit harder to come up for air. Your tether on your lucidity is flimsy at best. As effervescent as soap bubbles.
Jimin gives you light kisses for every order that you follow. his grip on your wrists slowly loostens until he's drawing your arms around his neck and holding you under your behind. "can't have you slipping pup." he says, voice low.
Jimin like you, has trouble speaking through his instincts. but when you open your eyes, he's watching you, keeping you steady and still for tae's touch.
and touch she does, indulging in it. soapy fingers dip low and scrub, inefficent but slow. a soft pleasure that warms you from the inside out, your stays perfectly relaxed. even as you mewl softly. jerking when tae uses the detachable showerhead to wash away the soap suds.
It feels sort of good- getting to scent and talk to and see Tae and Minnie one-on-one like this. Even if seeing them is more like falling asleep under the spray and talking to them is more like whining for your mommy until she gives you stupid chaste kisses to your cheek or forehead.
You tell her they're stupid kisses if they're not on your lips, and she rewards you with a raised eyebrow.
Omegaspace is deceptively hard to get out of, so you stop trying.
Eventually, the water stops falling around you and they help you out, drying off your body with your eyes closed. Arms loosely wound around Jimin’s neck. Tae pinches your cheeks, and you open your eyes before you open your mouth.
You feel like you're hearing everything through water. Yoongi is there and so is Namjoon, watching you with dark eyes, neither afraid nor hungry. tae says something that slips in one ear and out the other. Yoongi holds clothes for you. Just a single shirt, no pants or underwear.
Your body is too sensitive, and won't take or tolerate any more clothes than that- and only if it's his. It will get worse when you're in heat and your body won't be able to take anything touching it but the softest pillows.
Tae pinches your cheeks open gently. There is an orange bottle sitting there on the counter gathering condensation. Dark ink on the side reads 'for emergency uses only.'
You make eye contact with him as Namjoon puts the pill on your tongue.
Feeds you a bit of water, and closes your mouth, stroking your throat until he feels you swallow.
Bitter, It tastes bitter, rancid almost. Your body does not want whatever this pill offers- that you're sure of. You try to fight it, try to pull back, and spit it out. Jimin's rough fingers stroke your throat.
Namjoon puts a hand over your mouth so that you can and Namjoon growls low. "Swallow." You feel the command in your belly, your knees go weak, and you swallow without thinking. They let you go, Jimin sets you down, but still has to hold you up, your legs shaking like a newborn fawn.
"Was that?" You ask, dazed. Your words not making much sense. Yoongi puppets your arms through the holes of a shirt, pulling your wet hair out, stopping it from sticking to the back of your neck like he knows you hate.
"A contraceptive." Namjoon says, "We just have to be sure." You take greedy breaths of his scent. When he takes you from minnie, holding you up. Dizzy, unable to stand if he wasn’t holding you.
"I know pup, I know. Jinnie and Jungkook have to take them too." And when your whines don't cease. "One day" he promises. The rest of your alphas cast dangerously hungry looks over the top of your head.
But things like children, like pups, are not something you've discussed in any detail and with any certainty. Maybe with Yoongi and Tae every now and then. But you haven’t talked about pups like the rest of them have. Not lucidly. You're not thinking clearly right now, you only want pups because of the heat. No other reason.
Still, you pout up at Namjoon upset. Even while he carries you back downstairs, through the quiet house, past noodle sleeping belly up in his favorite window spot, past your shoes organized neatly by the door and to the heat nest. His arms hardly strain as he gets on his knees and then puts you down.
You keep your arms around his neck, looking at him, and Namjoon lets you.
“Mad at me?” You ask, eyes wide and worried, “don want Joonie to be mad at me.” You are so sensitive and sweet in omegaspace.
Namjoon is keenly aware of Yoongi behind him, he’s still a little angry about the car thing. But Namjoon just rubs his cheek against yours in an attempt at mollifying you. “Never mad at you- promise. Never.”
He tries to pull back but you don't let him. The nest is empty except for Jungkook, watching the two of you with wide dark eyes. You think Jinnie must be in the kitchen with your alpha's. You can hear them talk, hear Jin hiss, "I don't need you to carry me Minnie- yes I'm sure."
Namjoon cocks his head at you. Blinking softly. “Would a…” you nuzzle, and Joonie temporarily quiets, his scent thickening as you shuffle forward and settle onto his lap. “Would a punishment help?”
“Puppishment” Jungkook giggles from nearby, hair all ruffled and mused from rubbing his face into some of your plushies. He must like the way that the word fits in his mouth because he says it again and again, in a little singsong voice. “Puppishment pupishment pupishment” he giggles, and you join in laughing.
Namjoon smiles, looking down at the two of you, setting a hand on either of your heads and petting through your hair, you and Jungkook giggle and press your cheeks together. Your giggles quiet and you peer up at Yoongi in the doorway, sipping at a cup of something (coffee maybe? because he hadn't slept well last night- too busy watching over you) waiting until he nods. Giving you permission.
“Maybe? Gentle? just a little pupishment.” Namjoon hums, agreeing.
You go easily and without any squirming, draped over his lap. No need to pull anything down, no panties, nothing underneath your big shirt. At last one of your alpha's is letting you go belly down. You cling to Namjoon’s thighs, almost dizzy with it- the vulnerability and safety in your position.
You can feel yourself dripping, ever so slightly onto your upper thigh and probably Namjoon's leg. you are always so wet and now is no exception. Namjoon has to notice, his fists tightening for a second at the strength it takes him to hold back.
You can feel his restraint in every touch as he starts to rub, taking gentle handfuls of your behind in his big hands, groaning deep.
“Gentle huh? You just want it soft like that right? Soft like you are. thats why you let us do everything for you right? You just want everything soft and good and sweet like you.”
You suddenly cling to Namjoon’s thigh under your chest, almost looking back at him, tucking your face into the covers of the nest and breathing out at the intensity as he strokes over your behind, up and down.
The actual spanks aren’t anything like you’ve gotten before. Namjoon simply lays his hand against your skin a little quicker than a gentle touch. It makes more noise than anything else. And yet your fingers tangle weakly with the nest as he goes. He doesn’t even make you count them.
He doesn’t spend time touching you there or lower to tip you over into outright arousal although even with his restraint you’re embarrassingly close to cumming by the time he pulls back and sets his hand gently over your warmed bottom. Not even pink he’s been so gentle.
He flips you over, and you stare up at him, eyes dazed and glassy. It’s almost like he’s trying to make sure you don’t get too worked up. Despite the half-hardness you can feel first pressing into your stomach, and now, hard and long against your spine. Namjoon isn't rushing this.
Namjoon doesn't pull your shirt down yet, hiked up to just under your breasts. You rub your knees together and his nostrils flare at the smell of slick, he glances down, then back up at you. Your toes curl.
Jk lunches forward to nip at your ankle. Giggling softly. Jk leans his head between your legs and looks.
Namjoon sets his palm against your stomach, and you hiccup. Namjoon’s hands are so big his thumb and pinky stretch from hipbone to hipbone. Your waist is hardly dainty- not anymore- but you feel utterly small when Namjoon looks down at you, jaw rolling, growling out husky, “better?”
You nod, unable to speak or else risk something- some confession of plea that you’re not ready for. Your alpha continues to touch you, your soft belly, mindless swirls of his fingers. Until your heavy breathing quiets. Your alpha- touching you where you’re going to get bred, where he’s going to fill you. Makes you feel like a butterfly pinned to a piece of cardboard.
"Do you think you could tolerate a hole check without cumming?" Namjoon asks, looking conflicted.
"A hold check? Why?" You're still dizzy. "Aren't you going to be in my hole soon anyway?" Yoongi barks a surprised laugh and Namjoon's adam's apple bobs.
"With Jin and Jungkook we've done this enough that we know they've got like a few hours given-" Namjoon swallows, "how they are. But you've slept so much, we don't really know and-" Namjoon pets softly over your stomach. Yoongi is still watching from the door, hiding his smile with wordlessness from the door.
"Your cervix will start to open up so that you can take our knots extra extra deep. But it will only open if you're nearly there."
"Why- why check now?" you ask, you hiccup, sort of overwhelmed. "Not that I don't want to just-"
Yoongi answers from the door. "It means the difference between the alpha's sleeping in the nest or not tonight. That's why Namjoon is asking." He takes a sip, "We should also know, just like- generally- so that we're not surprised." You look at the window, almost dizzy when you realize it's already dark. You are losing time slipping out of your fingers.
You lift your head, shakey. Nodding, flipping back over onto your stomach, and giving Namjoon permission. Yoongi gets in the nest, and on the back of your neck rubbing soothingly.
Namjoon wastes little time. You sigh at the feeling of his fingers filling you- that- yes that is exactly what you want. "Good pup, relax for me" It's hard, and you whimper.
But Namjoon's fingers crook deep, past the first knuckle and all the way to the second. His fingers feel so long and thick inside of you. You clench a little, trying to pull him deeper. You're so tender and hot inside. Yoongi can see it on Namjoon's face the second it registers precisely what your heat feels like from the inside out.
You feel Namjoon Press against something usually hard that has turned spongey and pliable and so so sensitive. So sensitive that it makes your clit twitch against his pant leg, just a little. Jungkook laughs, and you realize he's ducking low, watching.
"Cute"
You whine and squirm and Yoongi whispers sweet nothings to you. Namjoon pets, moving his fingers. Namjoon presses again and after a brief moment of pressure, he slips through. "There we go pup- all nice and open for us, won't be long now."
The hole check is over before it really even begins. Yoongi crouches over you whispering endless praises as Namjoon asks Jungkook where he'd like your slick to go in the nest. It will be soaked with it in no time, but jk still asks for it to be pressed to his tummy.
You watch them, cheeks warming. Watch as Namjoon smears it over Jungkook's soft stomach. A claiming mark if ever there was one.
Jin teeters to the entrance, looking round and pink-cheeked and substantially plied with food. Waddling with Hobi close behind. Jin's gaze darts from you to Namjoon and back again.
"How long?" Of course, Jin knows, knows exactly what Namjoon has done and why.
"Tonight," Namjoon says. Eyes fixated on the pack omega. "probably not until much much later, we can probably sleep so long as nothing triggers her." He turns to Kookie. "You hear that Koo? No funny buisness, alright? You've got to be extra gentle over the next few hours."
Jungkook just blinks up at Namjoon, albeit coquettishly.
Jin goes for a shower next. But it takes significantly more finagling to get him upstairs than it did for you. You’d never imagine that you’d be the obedient one- given your biting and squirming and whining. But you watch them wrangle Jin as Yoongi goes and gets a towel and a brush for your hair. The two of you are gentle and quiet even if the pack omega is anything but.
The truth is, you and Jungkook are purely entertained.
Jin grips the door frame hard enough that the wood creeks, knuckles turning white. While Hobi and Namjoon both try to get him to leave the next, unsuccessfully. Jin’s body jerks and then his head as he lifts his lip and hisses. Somehow he manages to look cute doing it.
"Why you little- don’t you dare tickle me Hoseok." It takes all four of your alphas and eventually your mate to get him upstairs. You grin at them from the nest and watch them struggle.
“I swear to god Namjoon I will scruff you if you try and order me around.”
"Hyung, we both know you'd enjoy it."
Having Namjoon be the bait makes it deceptively easy to corral your plucky little pack omega upstairs to deal with his 5 o'clock shadow and messy hair. Namjoon runs and Jin hunts him down. You wonder if this is how Jin was when he was younger. All mouthy and bratty.
Jungkook usually doesn't feel his grooming instincts too intensely, but the trembling in his muscles stops once he gets the brush in his hand.
You get a little lucid, just a little- while the alpha’s aren’t in the room. the air clearing from their scent. Jungkook sits behind you and brushes your hair. Tugging you close until you're sitting in his lap. Jungkook feels very very warm behind you. Warmer than usual. The shivers and goosebumps on your skin is concerning and your body still isn't self-regulating correctly. but it's a distant worry with jungkook so close and so warm, pressed hard against your spine.
“What are your heats like Kookie?”
Jungkook just shrugs, dragging the brush through your hair gently, tugging out the tangles with a practiced ease. “I don’t know, just like fuckin and cuddling I guess.”
You laugh, cheeks warm, and you can feel the start of it. A subtle swelling need in your stomach, a feeling that has you wanting to protect it and get belly down in the nest where no one can touch it.
No one except Jin and Jungkook and your mate. They'd probably be safe. They'd probably give you belly rubs.
Jungkook’s heat is hitting a little quicker. His body fighting to catch up to yours and Jin’s. You sit in his lap while he combs your hair. Your legs out in front of you, socked feet pushing at the edge of the nest.
At least until Jungkook’s hands get curious.
They skim first over your shoulders, lightly combing your hair into a loose order, then down your back to your waist. The big shirt no pants combo makes you squirm when Jungkook’s hands go around to your front.
Your back arches into his hands, "Sensitive?" he asks, all but pinching your chest between his fingers, massaging gently, feeling where you're big and plush.
"Yeah- they're like- super tender." He hums behind you but doesn’t stop his pinching. Keeping your body taught. You let Jungkook do what he wants with you, dizzy and susceptible to your need to be good and feel good. He cups your chest in his hands, running his palms up and down them- feeling their weight and their give. You don't stop him, you let him touch.
This is what your omega nestmates are for. To check, to make sure your body is safe just like Namjoon did. You have no doubt that if any of the alpha's do anything that Jungkook doesn't like- he'll tell them.
But Jungkook does like it when you squirm and squeak.
You chirp when Jungkook's hands go greedy, rolling your nipples between his fingers. tugging on them gently. His brain is getting away from him- because Jungkook would never talk this way ordinarily. You know very well that he doesn't want pups and yet- his brain and instincts will temporarily convince him that he wants something different.
"Wanna see these swollen with milk for pups, want alpha to put a pup in you, want him to breed both of us so that we can nest together with our tummies-" He giggles, cute, in omegaspace but so lewd with it. "You'd taste so sweet here, I want it- please-"
The idea of having…milk, of letting your pack omega and nestmate feed from you- makes you feel hot and tingly all over. You don't know if Jin put this idea in your mind and jungkook's or if they're both always like this.
You squirm, trying to get away from Jungkook and tell him that this isn't being a good pup and you know it. But before you can- Jungkook's teeth bite into the nape of your neck. Scruffing you and turning you limp and doll-like against his front. Your head goes fuzzy and you stop squirming, completely boneless.
You feel dizzy, so dizzy at it. he doesn't stop his pinch and pull rythem and you wonder why you ever wanted to stop Jungkook, not when it feels so good having his hands on you, so warm. He lets go of your neck with a hum. licking his teeth when they pop free from your skin.
Jungkook's hands are free to inch lower- past the hem of your shirt and between your thighs. Past your tummy and past your pussy, down low.
Lower than the alphas would like but there are no alphas here, just you and Jungkook and the nest.
You try to back up into him as his fingers tease, wet with slickness from the first brush. You wonder if you're leaking a lot already- if you're going to get all wet and messy with your heat. You're already so much wetter than Jungkook and Jin get normally. You're glad that Jin put down some waterproof blankets on the bottom of the nest. It's so embarrassing.
(If only you knew. Jungkook's salivating and he's not even an alpha. Waring with the idea of keeping you close on top of him like this, or detangling himself from you to have a taste. To bully his way back between your thighs like he woke up this morning. He should have taken it while he had the chance. He wants to taste your sweetness, your willingness to be bred, the fertility of your heat hot and sweet on his tongue. He knows the alpha's will go crazy for it. They always do.)
“Can’t wait for Alpha to put his knot in your puphole and make you cry, you're so pretty when you cry, wish I had a knot too- it's so so so unfair.” His fingers continue to move, your toes scrunch, at the pleasure, back arching.
“Which one?”
"Which what?"
"Which hole," you ask shyly. About to close your legs until Jungkook pinches and squeezes at your thighs. His fingers dimple in the fullness there. Opening you wide and pinching until you leave them that way- open and ready for the taking.
You eye the door warily. From the sound of it- your pack is preoccupied with wrangling Jinnie upstairs. but the door is open, anyone could walk by and see your pussy spread open like this. like this- you are jungkook's to display and taunt the alpha's with.
Jungkook presses the pads of his fingers over your entrance. Pinky rubbing low until you squirm from a new kind of sensitivity.
“All of them. This one too.”
You squirm, and Jungkook’s fingers continue their small movements, it’s not like he’s fingering you, but his finger ghosts over your hole, then the other. Clean and soft and damp with slick from where your pussy dribbled down, both entrances sensitive and wet and achey.
His purr builds behind you as he feels and feels and feels. Exploring. His voice is warbly and deep from the purr. "I wish I had two pupholes like you do. Girl omegas are so lucky- can take so many knots at once. Knots are so cute and chubby, wanna bite ‘em."
You giggle and he joins you. Two omegas and a singular fever building between you. Neither of you are thinking straight. Neither in omegaspace nor out of it. "I don't think the alphas would appreciate that."
His fingers tread higher, pressing into your clit until you jerk, rubbing up and down it so that your happy scent bleeds higher and higher. Jungkook pinches, and you try to grab his wrist. Gasping and jerking forward.
Jungkook tugs gently, back and forth, just like with your nipples and it's almost like he's trying to milk you there. your socked feet push at the nest but jungkook holds you and you can't get away from it. it's too much. The pleasure pain need of it is so intense you see black spots in your vision.
You're a little panicked, “Koo- koo- can't- please- they’ll be angry.”
“Let them be.”
But after another tug, He lets your clit go and you jerk, resting back against his front. Hiccuping. Jungkook's fingers stay like that between your legs, urging little 'ah ah ah's from your throat. But he doesn't get quite so rough with you again. This time- Jungkook stays soft.
Wetness and the sweetness of slick slowly building and building- not just from you. Jungkook stops teasing you quite so bad and just leaves his fingers at the precipice of entering you. Plugging up the slick and keeping it from dripping out. Resting his fingers just there inside of you, almost like reverse cockwarming. Like he's keeping your hole warm and stretched around his fingers. Ready for the alpha's later.
It's a little maddening. Having him just touch but not move. Have him guard your holes and settle back. There's very little satisfaction in it.
Sweat drips down your temple, Jungkook leans forward to nuzzle it and lap at your cheek.
You're still like that, legs splayed so that Jungkook can play with you and on display When Namjoon and Yoongi round the corner into the nest room.
You jolt at the sudden surprise and try to close your legs, but Jungkook keeps them open with messy fingers. Slick turning your skin glossy when Jungkook holds your thigh open. Yoongi's chest heaves, and he curses low, "Jesus Koo you-" Yoongi actually laughs. Rubbing at his face, cheeks pink.
Namjoon is not amused, eyes going dark. Especially once Jungkook takes his fingers away and lets you gush, just a little. A barely visible trail of slick dripping from one hole to the other as they watch. Yoongi's Addams apple bobs as he swallows.
Namjoon's wearing a dark red mark on his collarbone (probably from Jin given once he caught him) The top of his shoulders crested with faint wetness like he'd unintentionally gotten stuck under the spray of the shower upstairs. But Namjoon looks…steamy. Steaming with anger once Jungkook’s fingers tread lower. He takes your slick and feeds it back up to your fluttering entrance.
It's sort of hot, you clench around Jungkook's fingers and both of them- both Namjoon and Yoongi look, watching. Yoongi covers his mouth, "fuck Jungkook you can't-"
You can feel Jungkook’s grin pressed to the back of your neck, you know what his eyes look like- owlish over the top of your head. Namjoon glares from the doorway, as Jungkook's fingers just barely tread inside and you mewl softly. jungkook spreads his fingers, Holding you open and showing your alpha and your mate how warm and wet you are. Don't they want a taste? Don't they want to feel inside? Jungkook can feel and it’s ////heavenly.
Namjoon's foot depresses the edge of the nest. “Touching what isn’t yours Koo?" Namjoon shakes his head, jaw rolling. "You know better.”
Jungkook does not go easily. Namjoon ends up having to call for backup. Jimin almost slips coming down the stairs. The wooden thud of his ass connected with a step resounding through the house.
Things go from being good to being scary to being good again so fast it gives you whiplash.
Yoongi helps you sit up on your thighs, still too shakey to stand. You don’t need to be held while Jungkook twists and rolls out of Namjoon and Jimin’s hold laughing all the while. The alpha's groan in frustration, unable to get their arms around him for long, unable to subdue him. Both of you watch, Yoongi leans down to kiss your forehead, "You okay?" you shift, uncomfortable. And he produces a wipe from somewhere a hidden stash of clean-up items in the rim of the nest. "Messy there?" he knows you so well. Hands it over rather than clean you himself. Although it's mostly a lost cause.
Jungkook laughs and rolls again while Namjoon curses. Cheek’s pink, scent sweetening while being chased. “Every time” Yoongi informs you, “every time- every heat- Jungkook makes the alpha’s chase him.” His giggle warms your back.
Jimin tries to get his hands around Jungkook’s wrists but he twists and twists and twists.
You giggle from the nest, at their frustration, at how Jungkook’s clearly enjoying himself. Dodging their hands. But then there’s Tae, there by the door, Crossing her arms and waiting expectantly. All but tapping her slippered foot. Staring down at him completely unimpressed.
It takes them a second to spot her. Jimin does first, straightening up immediately once he spots her glower. Jungkook does not spot her as quickly sliding to the floor with his hands around Namjoon’s waist, grinning, cheeks pink and eyes hazy. Almost pulling his pants down with how tight he grapples with him.
"Jungkook.”
Jungkook looks up, face going pale, shooting to his feet in front of her. Not flinching when she reaches out and pinches his nape. Jungkook lets her and whines through it. “There we go pup, you just needed someone to make you listen huh? Come upstairs. Now.” Jungkook follows, as if in a trance. Unable to tear his eyes away from her. Obediently holding her hand, looking scolded and mildly scared.
Your mate huffs and leans over to scoop you closer, but you squirm. Remembering his promise to let you go outside of the nest once you'd showered.
“Tae is kinda scary when she wants to be.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, staring after her lovingly.
“Do you think you could eat some more breakfast?”
“Maybe.” You say, and Yoongi smiles sweetly. With his arms around you, it's the calmest you've felt, the gentlest you've felt all morning. It's not like omegaspace- although you know you're in it, as you whine against his throat.
Yoongi smiles, “I’ll take that. C’m on.”
You know what awaits Jungkook upstairs, a spanking over the clothes and not under because that would be giving in too much. And any more would surely send Jungkook hurtling straight past pre-heat and into heat.
Jungkook doesn’t understand what the big deal is, it’s going to be a shit show anyways, with three omegas in heat and only 5 packmates to help them through it. It means that no one will be offered a full heat spike of time in between knotting's. Even less because Yoongi doesn’t have a knot (obviously) and probably won’t be able to help as much with Jungkook and Jin like he used to.
Judging from the way you wrap yourself around his back and stubbornly refuse to go anywhere- he’ll be preoccupied during your heat. You stare at Yoongi as he guides you to the kitchen, bumping into the couch and the walls because you don’t want to stop looking. Hobi laughs, coming around you, guiding you away from the lamp. He doesn’t ask what you’re doing out of the nest. He already knows. He’s toting Jin behind him- who looks sleepy and soft and scrubbed raw.
He doesn't talk, probably can't with the strength of his purrs as Hobi sits him down at the kitchen island and starts feeding him. You stubbornly refuse to sit anywhere but Yoongi's lap. A predicament that Yoongi is only too happy to have himself in. Enough that Hobi leans over and teases you with a pinch to your scent gland.
“Huh, maybe you won’t even need us, just want your mate huh?”
“Jinnie and Yoongi and Koo- please Koo,” you parrot, feeling small. Eyes upturned at Yoongi, asking him so nicely for it that he can't help but squeeze around your waist extra tight. You let out a little squeak. As if on cue from upstairs, you hear a loud shout, a tumble, a giggle. Probably the alpha's manhandling Jk into the tub and Jungkook making them work for it.
Yoongi is quite plainly using your squishy-at-the-edges state to ply you with enough fruit to fill your tummy and hopefully tide you over. Getting you to eat over the next few days will be difficult, and he’s trying (and succeeding) to fatten you up in the meantime- just a little.
Most of the food and fruit- the pack's usual rut and heat staples, were prepped yesterday by the others during Yoongi's staring match with the street. The food is mild enough that it won’t bother your stomach.
You are utterly obedient whenever he holds out a piece of food, lips closing around his fingers, chewing and looking up at him, listless almost not blinking. The next time he feeds you- you bite down past the fruit and onto his fingers. Jin has to lean over to pinch your jaw to get you to let go. "Sorry," you say, licking your teeth. Aching and aching and aching. "Didn't mean to just-"
"It's okay." Yoongi just wipes his fingers on a nearby cloth, "You can bite me all you like."
"Can I?" you ask, almost excited for it.
"Of course, I'm yours." You purr, and park for face in Yoongi's throat, and really- it works against him, because now he can't get you to eat anymore, can't until he sighs and starts to pop the buttons on his sleep shirt. "There, happy now?" You suck hickey after hickey onto Yoongi's chest. Echoing each mark for a bit of food.
Hobi leaves because Tae calls for him, not upstairs but from the nesting room, leaving you, Jin, and Yoongi to eat. Eventually, you push at Yoongi's hands, nudging him to the pack omega. Jin eats slowly, eyes on you, pink-cheeked and slow. You're starting to burn a fever and Yoongi and Jin both know it won't go away.
"How will I know when my heat's hitting?" You'd asked earlier, "You'll know" is all Jinnie had said.
When the fruit is maybe half finished you start to hear it- some shouting from the other room. Not Jungkook, not even Hobi who returned upstairs to give Jungkook the remainder of his bath but is coming down now. Jungkook like you- had refused all but one item of clothing at this point. Is only in shorts. Yoongi does not let you scent him as you walk by. Joining the sound of Jimin, Namjoon, and Tae arguing in the other room.
It's a little silly when you see.
They've got the pack's sex toy boxes open in front of them, knots and cocks and dildos all laid out on the edge of the nest, big ones and colorful ones and ones with knotting attachments. The pack doesn't see these things as their replacement but as their best asset in heat.
And yet, they bicker.
"There's just no way- I know you want to do this heat all-natural hyung. But we won't be able to."
"Not unless we take fucking Viagra or something." Tae doesn’t laugh, a clawed hand over her face.
"No way, no one is taking anything. Mini- we can make due."
"My knot is gonna fall off hyung."
"It is not."
"Is too."
"Is not."
They're all overtired, instincts awake and exerted, just the same as you. Yoongi steps through you and Jin to go comfort them at the same moment that Hobi lets go of Jungkook's wrist. The rest of them are inside of the nest room leaving You, Jungkook, and Jin out in the hallway.
Jungkook widens his stance. Just a little. Powerful thighs tensing.
(At the end of the day, your heat is less of a controlled burn, and more of an explosion)
His dark eyes are wide, tracking the alpha movements, you watch Jungkook watch them. Feeling the sluggish thump of your heartbeat. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jin mirror him. Feet shoulder with apart, at the ready.
Your heart thuds loud in your ears as you watch the alpha's movements too. All of a sudden, you can't take your eyes off of them. They’re not a threat but not not a threat. You're closest but you still brace yourself.
You physically watch the hair stand up on Namjoon's neck, and the alpha's turn slow. Eyes narrowing. Jin's hand slides from your wrists to your hand, giving you a squeeze before he lets go. Jin's grinning. So is Jungkook- it's a little feral- but it feels it feels-
There is a heat under your skin, burning everywhere your body touches that's not them, like a brand or maybe like a freshly forged string of fate.
it feels Good, it burns but you feel free. Your instincts course through you like adrenaline only worse. You do not feel settled, you feel alive and wild. Strong and powerful. You feel ready. All three of your scents swell sweet, building and building on each other, you sway, a little unsteady. Teetering.
Namjoon's eyes are so wide they could be mini-moons. His chest rippled with a warning growl. "Omega." It's a warning, the lethal purr in Namjoon’s tone says no nonsense will be tolerated.
Jungkook takes it as a challenge.
For a second, no one moves and no one breathes, but then you're scattering like the rats from Ratatouille. The omegas running and giggling down the hall and the alpha bolting after you, trying to catch you. Legs pumping, moving against the floor.
Yoongi bolts, anticipating your movement the second before you do. He's quicker than all the alphas and he goes for you first. Grabbing you and heaving you up as you giggle and kick your feet the alpha shoots past you.
"No! I've gotta!"
Omegaspace zoomies are so much fun, Yoongi is grinning, lets you down, lets you take another step before he's trying to scoop you up again. A cat playing with a mouse, letting it get a bit farther away before you pounce.
Only you have learned, you did learn from Jungkook earlier, because you twist out of Yoongi's arms.
"Oh no you don't-"
Namjoon lunges for Jin but the pack omega dodges and Namjoon's arms close around nothing. Jungkook is the fastest by far and Jimin's legs pump, almost sliding across the smooth polished floor to get to Jungkook. The omega laughs as he slips out of Jimin's grasp.
You try to follow them but you don't get very far, someone's hands around your wrist that almost tugs you clean off your feet but into a pair of arms. Several pairs of arms, sweet smelling and victorious surround you.
Really, you never had a chance.
There is something in your instinct settled by it, by being chased and restrained. Your alphas can’t have you unless they try- unless they try really really hard to catch you. they won’t be able to take the sweetness between your legs and do something with it unless they earn it.
You get dragged to the floor. Tae's dress feels silky against your shins. Yoongi's hands are rough on your shoulders. Hobi's touch- hard against your thigh. you laugh and try to roll again but this time- you are unable to get away from them.
You look up at them and whimper. Parting your legs in defeat. hot, you feel hot all over.
Yoongi doesn't hesitate, palms you blatantly between your legs. "is this what you needed sweetheart? A little bit of roughness. you're too delicate. too little for things like this. almost makes me think you don't want us to be gentle with you."
you're so hot you feel like you're burning, whimpering out something that sounds suspiciously like "please"
"you need to ask."
you can do little more but chirp in reply. but yoongi wasn't really expecting anything coherent from you at this point.
Jungkook gets the farthest. Almost to the end of the hall before Jimin bares down upon him, pushing him almost to the floor. Jungkook's mouth open in a soundless snarl. Face more animal than human as he paws at Jimin's body. Neither trying to hurt him or pleasure him. Needy and feral.
Jimin tries to turn him over, to get him to present but Jungkook won't. Not until he's in the nest. You should be trying harder to get away. Harder to get out of Yoongi's hands around your waist but you don't, too busy watching.
Namjoon and Jin are similarly wrestling. A little less far into the hall but still farther than you got. The pack omega is belly up, not belly down, making Namjoon work for it to try and twist him around. It's feral and it's a little primal. The way that Namjoon nips at his throat. Jin tries to kick at Namjoon's thigh but Namjoon grabs it and pulls him back by his ankle, Jin's whole body sliding on the floor.
Tae grabs one of your wrists and Hobi grabs the other, yoongi hooks his fingers into your pussy, one hand around your middle and in a feat of strength that impresses you the small tiny corner of your brain that's lucid- he picks you up off the floor. Heaving you up back towards the nest. Towards safety. yoongi's fingers leave you and you want them back instantly. crying for it.
Jimin throws Jungkook over his shoulder. Namjoon and Jin keep fighting, too evenly matched. Another alpha will have to help him settle the pack omega. Once you’re in the nest, once you’re knotted and docile and fucked so full you can’t move.
You grind back against Yoongi's hips, feeling the hardness there, the cock that's yours yours yours. Almost giddy at the prospect of getting put in your place.
You grin and taste blood.
~-~
Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!
Birthday Pup list
Notes
this is another chapter of mindless fluff- mostly because i just could not edit it in time with the last chapter.
i feel like i need to warn you guys that the next chapter! the heat sex stuff! will not be able to be posted for at least another two weeks because i am going away next weekend to the west coast to help my older sister shop for her wedding dress. i wish i was one of the those people who could write on planes but i can'ttttt i have about 3k already written for it but! it's going to take me a minute and i'm sorry!
i didn't origionally intend for there to be so much body worship in this- but i think given the m/c's internal monolouge early in the series, a bit of tummy worship can't hurt.
m/c, me, and everyone looking at jk: i wanna knock him up.
i think i may have gone a bit far with the jin wanting to brestfeed the m/c thing, but i cant even help it it makes me feel so soft in like a horny sort of way i loveeeee it
i don't know why i love the idea of woumb fucking so much, like listen- i know that it's physically impossible in humans and like- that it's all just a fantasy but i love this fantasy.
there was surprisingly more smut in this chapter than i originally intended.
i am also usually not a fan of booty stuff but??? jk + booty stuff??? yes please give it to me, i love that he just plays the m/c like a fiddle.
maybe the use of 'puphole' is cringey but it's also so cute and lewd i like it. let me know if it squiks you or not.
i think i might...be into pussy torture a little...like when jk pinches her clit and is a little mean thats like- so my thing you know. jk goes so feral.
this chapter is a little less like "there are concrete things that happen" and more just me thinking of things i want to write and putting it in <3
#jk x reader#jungkook x reader#bts omegaverse au#bts a/b/o#bts x reader#bts poly au#bts gang au#bts mafia au#bts polyamory au#bts au#bts fluff#bts hurt/comfort#bts werewolf au#bts angst bts omegaverse fic#bts hybrid fic#min yoongi fic#kim namjoon fic#kim seokjin fic#kim taehyung fic#park jimin fic#jeon jungkook fic#jjk#pjm#myg#knj#kth#ksj#jhs#jung hoseok fic#min yoongi x reader
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Latibule Spinoff: Elysian
Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader
Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: if this ain't the most unserious hiatus ever XD
Masterlist, Part IV of __
“If you know in one glimpse it’s legendary…what we thought was for all time was momentary…”
You tilted your head to the side as you watched the young man mumbled the lyrics to a song, his head resting on his forearm on the table. He was holding the glass of soju on his other. His voice had a certain melodic tone in it, and you were certain that he could be a singer had he wanted to. But now, he was a man that was too drunk to sit straight.
“Still alive killing time at the cemetery. Never quite buried…”
You blinked from your seat across him before turning to the doctor beside you who was busy grilling meat. Kim Seokjin appeared to not be bothered by how his brother was acting, only flashing you a smile when he saw you looking at him. He added another one on the pile of grilled meat he kept on placing on your plate. Meanwhile, Jungkook’s was almost gone and Seokjin still prioritized your plate over his.
You leaned closer, your voice barely a whisper amidst the din of the restaurant. "Is he going to be okay?" you asked, your gaze never leaving Jungkook's slouched form as he continued to sing. The noise inside the tented restaurant made it harder for him to hear you. It was like he wasn’t thinking too hard for the first time since you came barging in his life as he leaned down his head to hear you, his ear almost touching your lips from his proximity.
This seemed right, he thought, to be near you. It was like he was finally following his urges, letting his control slip for just a little for you.
And for the second time that night, your heart beat so loud it was a miracle that he couldn’t hear it, or that you didn’t go into cardiac arrest.
“Hmm?”
You cleared your throat before repeating your question. “He’s singing Taylor Swift’s new song. The album only came out this morning and it seems like he already memorized it…Is he okay?”
Seokjin looked up to watch his brokenhearted brother who was now unstealthily stealing meat from your plate, unaware of both your eyes on him. “Talking rings and talking cradles………I wish I could unrecall-“
Jungkook sniffed before eating the meat. It would have been hilarious to watch the tears falling from his eyes as he chewed, except that he looked like a child that was abandoned by the way his lips were pouted. The tattoos and the lip piercing did nothing to make him less endearing. You thought he was really just a charming person. But now he was just sad, as though he lost something he could never get back.
“-how we almost had it all.”
And then cue the endless tears.
Seokjin sighed, his eyes trained on the younger man he claimed to have raised on his own since he was thirteen. It was rare to see him cry. He always toughed it out, always had this innate need to prove himself to his older brothers despite the repeated assurance they gave him that they were tough so he wouldn’t need to. But he was stubborn. And in turn, he became a hardened man, a no-nonsense CEO and a violent leader of the underworld.
Well, until he married her. Suddenly, the sun seemed to have finally shone on his world. Seokjin could remember how happy and giddy Jungkook looked when he put the ring on her finger. He could remember how excited he was to come home to her everyday, even going as far as telling them how wonderful she was, or that cute thing she did for him, or how her cooking was the best he ever had.
Spoiler alert, though, she was the worst cook. She didn’t know that there was a distinct difference between a sugar and a salt, and no, just because they looked the same didn’t mean that they tasted the same.
See what love did to Jeon Jungkook, the pickiest person when it came to food?
Well, until she left.
“It’s not his birthday today,” Seokjin finally answered. “And eat. You’re far too thin.”
“Excuse me! I’m not!”
“Uhuh,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Are you even eating three times a day?”
“Wh- well. N-no! Who has the time?” you sputtered, cheeks warming up from the attention you were getting from him.
He raised his brows at that before pointedly looking at your plate, making a mental note to ensure that your schedule from now on wouldn’t be so tight that you forgot to eat. Or better yet, he would personally visit the head of your department to berate him for not ensuring your well-being!
“And what do you mean that it’s not his birthday?”
“It’s his wedding anniversary today.”
Huh? Your eyes automatically went to his ring finger, only to find a tattoo that you didn’t notice before. It was a name. You thought that he must have been so in love to have permanently etched his wife’s name on his skin. However, another question popped in your mind.
“Then why is he here instead of with her?”
“She left her more than a year ago. He doesn’t know where she is right now.”
Your heart went out to the young man. He seemed to be so heartbroken evident from his tears and the sadness in his doe eyes. He was too young to be this sad, you thought. Seokjin’s eyes were on you as you looked at Jungkook. You were so soft, he thought. You wore your emotions on your sleeves, genuine concern etched on your face and he couldn’t help but marvel at your capacity for compassion despite only meeting him today.
“That’s so sad. No wonder he’s crying his heart out,” you mumbled, reaching out to pat the younger man’s broad back in display of silent support. “I don’t know how anyone can carry it.”
He nodded, “I don’t think I’ll ever have to know.”
You blinked owlishly at his statement. And when you turned to him, his eyes were dark. He was now looking at the glass of soju, twirling the liquid contents slowly.
“Why?” you asked what you shouldn’t have.
He smirked before drinking. His movements were languid before turning his dark and cold eyes to you. “Because, sunshine, I don’t think I have it in me to allow my wife to leave me.”
That should have been your first warning.
And to Kim Seokjin, that was his first warning to himself.
---
He didn’t avoid you. No.
But for the following week, he was distant. He smiled at you when he saw you, but other than that, he did not engage. He greeted you when you greeted him, but other than that, he claimed to have an urgent appointment every time.
See, one step forward was two steps backward when it came to him, you thought. And perhaps, it was for the better. Had this progressed beyond a harmless crush, you would have been hurt. You would only bring him down with you. So for the next days, you threw yourself at work, saying yes to whatever assistance your colleagues needed, even going as far as offering your help to their research.
What? It was an overtime which equated to overtime pay!
That was what you reasoned to yourself, and nope, it was not because you were avoiding excess time to think about that handsome doctor.
Perhaps, what deviated in your work was the amount of free meals the department was getting. It even came to the point was when you didn’t go out of the office for lunch, the department head himself went in and demanded you to eat. You were confused as you followed him out and wondered why he looked a bit terrified. Other than that, you week was calm.
This was good, you convinced yourself as you waited in line for your turn to order, less time with him meant that whatever crush you had for him would die a natural death. You certainly weren’t hurt that your last interaction meant nothing to him when he claimed to have wanted you there with him. You nodded to yourself as you thought that Seokjin looked like a walking heartbreak just waiting to happen.
“Come on, just admit you like her! Why else would you reallocate the budget to cater the food for their department?!”
Seokjin rolled his eyes at his Doctor Seong-min and his obnoxious voice. The two doctors decided to step out for the afternoon to grab a decent coffee. He shifted impatiently in line, silently willing the people ahead him to order faster so he could physically separate himself from his colleague and escape the conversation. He had yet to forgive him for almost getting the coffee his sunshine got for him.
Wait, what?!
His?
See, this was why he needed coffee!
“I heard our branch in the far province desperately needs a resident surgeon. Maybe you want to transfer there?” he asked quietly, the tone of threat not even hidden as he smiled at the man. The mention of transferring to a far-flung province was a thinly veiled threat, one that Seong-min knew Seokjin was all too capable of carrying out if pushed far enough.
“Damn, dude. Chill. If you don’t like her, just say so. I’m just 307% sure that you do-“
“We can’t have doctors that are bad at math! What do you mean 307%?!-“
“Oh, is it 400% now?” he blinked innocently at the man who was berating him, his voice increasing and his ears reddening from his emotions. It was fun to see him like this, Seong-min noted. He was always calm and collected even in the face of emergencies. Seokjin seemed to always know what to do in every situation, and now, one mention of your name and he became like this.
With a forced smile, Seokjin turned to face Seong-min, his voice low and tinged with frustration. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, though the denial rang hollow even to his own ears.
Seong-min merely chuckled, unfazed by Seokjin's attempt at deflection. "Come on, Jin. It's written all over your face," he teased, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. "You can't fool me.”
He glared at him and Seong-min felt a shiver down his spine as though he was facing a dangerous person and not the peace-loving and hardworking doctor he knew since they were in university. “Fine! I just asked because my friend saw Doctor Y/N and asked me to set her up with him! I was just being a good friend to you-“
What?
See, the mention of another man was what finally pushed him to the very edge and he could feel the fragile sanity of his breaking. However, what he didn’t expect from his genius brain was stupidity.
“Seong-min, are you even using your brain? Why would I, the perfect and genius Doctor Kim Seokjin, ever like someone as bland as her? I have taste. And she could never reach my taste in women. She’s not the same stature as me. She’s so far below me that it’s embarrassing to even insinuate that I feel something for her. Besides, I only entertain her because she’s funny-“
Seong-min’s eyes went in front as the line moved, and it was because of you.
With the steaming cup of hot coffee in your hand, you turned to them. You didn’t say anything. You just watched as Seokjin continued his tirade, completely unaware of your presence, adding lashes to your heart and ego.
God, you were so embarrassed. How could you have thought that he was anything but a rich man who looked down at people beneath him? How could he hurt you where it hurts?
“Honestly, the least she could do is to move faraway from me. She’s nothing-“
It was only when Seong-min pushed his shoulder that he finally noticed you and your tear-filled eyes. He blinked repeatedly as though he was just starting to understand of your presence here, that you were not just a figment of his worst nightmare came to life.
He called for you.
He knew he did.
But instead, you stalked away from him as you tried to salvage whatever was left of your dignity.
“Seriously, Seokjin, you’re an idiot,” Seong-min said, shaking his head in disdain. Seokjin had no choice but to agree.
He was the biggest idiot.
#bts fic#yandere bts#bts yandere#mafia kim seokjin#kim seokjin fic#kim seokjin x you#kim seokjin x reader#yandere kim seokjin x you#kim seokjin x y/n#yandere kim seokjin
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Ego [9]
mafia bts x stripper yn; hybrid universe
Everyone had heard of the Dirty7s, even distantly. Nobody could put names or faces to the members, but the name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of civilians, criminals, and law enforcement alike. They’re known to be methodical, impenetrable, and most of all, merciless. Nobody wants to cross any of them. Lest of all you - a college student stripping to pay her debts.
What happens when you fall into their web of deceit and lies?
What happens when you find that you don’t want to escape, even when you know you should?
Masterlist / i don’t have a tag list / find me on twitter / word count: 1.8k
AN: Here we go again! crime syndicate BTS X stripper yn. I’ll post this on AO3 too. Some of BTS are humans, some are hybrids. They all are obsessed with Reader. Reader is black in my headcanon.
(yandere / angst / gore / fluff / smut / violence / none )
trigger warnings: hey.... I'm back! yn is depressed. she's suffering a lot but she's not alone. nothing of significance. just needed to get this out after so long. I'll be back soon with more drama!
“Breaking News: The body of an African-American Beta hybrid was found dismembered and abandoned under a bridge in East Point. East Point is known for its houseless and opiate-dependent population. Many new strains of synthetic drugs are being released onto the streets, made accessible to vulnerable, unmated Omegas. Markings found on the body indicate the involvement of a gang widely known as the Dirty7s. The Dirty7s are an anonymous group with links to…”
The TV drones on in the background but you don’t hear it. Well, you can’t hear it. You hadn’t been paying much attention to anything for the last few days. How many? You’ve got no idea. It’s been enough for your hair to start smelling bad anyway.
You walk out of the bathroom, dropping the towel as you go, grabbing the big t-shirt with Thandi’s face on it and pulling it on. You had gotten a couple from the funeral from Thandi’s mom. She had made them, gotten them pressed at a local tailor’s place to raise some money for the funeral. You knew how expensive it was to die. Flashes of your mothers face fly in front of your eyes before you can stop it and they make you wince. You tried to pay but Thandi’s mom had refused your money. “My Thandi told me all about you,” she had said, holding your hand so tightly it almost hurt, but you didn’t complain. In fact, the sting-burn sensation grounded you, and you felt yourself get lost in her deep, knowledgable eyes. She might have just lost her daughter, but it seems as if she had already experienced a lifetime’s worth of pain. It made you ache. “You… You were her friend. She loved you so much.”
And then you felt it again, the guilt-driven nausea.
It was the first time you met her mom, but you knew all about her daughter, Sana. The young girl, only eight years old, stood solitarily, as the preacher droned on and on about ‘eternal bliss’ and ‘blessed memories’ and ‘living on in memory’. The expression on her face, you knew it so well. It was as if nothing was making sense to her mind. She was so sad, so lost, so lonely. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her throughout the funeral. She looked around at all of the people at her mother’s funeral, curious yet careful, quiet and withdrawn, before turning her eyes to the coffin at the front of the church and biting down on her bottom lip. She didn’t make a sound, not a peep - the whole time.
They opted for a closed casket because well… What other option was there? The truth of Thandi’s death wasn’t lost on the participants of her funeral but it was bad manners to bring it up. The thought alone was enough to bring bile to your throat so fast, it made your head spin. You rush to the bathroom and spit up in the toilet. Just a little bit this time, thankfully. You swill your mouth out and walk to grab something from the refrigerator. It took you days to realize that someone had come into your apartment while you had been at the funeral and had fixed certain things.
The fridge had been filled. The pile of dishes washed. The laundry had been taken and washed and returned all clean and folded. The bed had been spread. The rug had been moved around and vacuumed. The bathroom had been straightened out.
Once you had come to your senses, you burst into grateful tears.
You knew who it was.
He had left a t-shirt of his, saturated in his scent and so big it drowned your body in material, in your closet for you to sleep in.
You take a glance at the t-shirt again, wrapped around a big pillow on your bed, and you sigh, getting into bed once more, hair still damp at the roots of your head.
Your phone lay on the table beside your bed, silent but charging, and you take a second to look at it before you grab it and make a call.
It doesn’t ring but for two times before you hear his voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello, YN,” Jungkook says, quietly.
You don’t answer. You can’t find your mouth, you can’t feel it well. Your tongue feels fuzzy and heavy, like a weight is sitting on it.
“YN…?”
Jungkook pauses slightly before the sound of him shifting his weight comes through the receiver.
He asks, softly, “Do you need me?”
You are still quiet, but you let out a light sigh through your nose. It’s the loudest you’ve been in days.
No. I don’t need anyone, you want to say. But again, more silence. Your tongue is too heavy. Your stomach is rolling and your head feels all loopy. You can't imagine where all these good hormones are coming from, flooding your system with flickers of light and ease and warmth and syrupy goodness.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, gently. “I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need.”
Another sigh.
He takes a moment to think before he says, a certain chipperness in his tone, “Shall I tell you about my day, Pretty?”
A final sigh, and you turn over to your side, phone pressed to your cheek. If you were more present in your body, it probably would hurt.
Jungkook sounds as if he reclines in his seat as he begins telling you all about his day.
“It’s been mostly boring. I woke up at 5:30. I went to the gym for a couple of hours. I boxed and ran and did some weights. I think I could press three of you, you know, Pretty? You're so little compared to me. Sorry. I got distracted. Then, I showered and ate breakfast with Tae. You haven’t met him yet, right? I think you’d like him. A lot. Anyway. After, I met Jimin for some work-related stuff. Very boring. Do you want me to tell you about it, Pretty?”
He doesn’t let you get a sigh out before he continues.
“I didn’t think so. Then, after hours of back and forth, I went to go pick up my suit. We have a fancy dinner to go to this weekend. It’s Jin-hyung’s birthday.”
His voice gets all syrupy and warm, and it twists and rolls in your stomach all hot and uncomfortable. Why does his happiness make you feel so bothered?
“-and after we finish at DeMaggio’s, Joonie-hyung says we’re going on a helicopter ride around the city. Would you like to do that one day? Should I invite you? I can do that, you know. I don’t think Hyung would mind.”
The thought alone makes you snort.
He pauses and then, when he talks again, his voice seems relieved.
“You laughed, Pretty.”
You blink, somewhat surprised. He wasn’t lying. You did laugh, breathy and weak as it was.
“Pretty, you know I miss you so much, right?”
You close your eyes tightly at his words, lip getting sucked between your teeth.
He takes a moment to ask, quietly, almost needy, “Do you miss me?”
Your throat gets all tight and thick, and you feel horrible all over again. He hears you choke on something, because his voice gets all flighty, worried and concerned over the phone, as he peppers you with soft words.
“You don’t have to say it.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Please, don’t cry.”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
And then, he pauses and says the one thing you both craved and dreaded to hear.
“She wouldn’t want you to be this angry with yourself,” he says. Then, with more confidence, he claims, “You’re allowed to be happy.”
You cut off the phone before the sobs take over once more.
////
Jungkook taps the edge of his phone on the table a few times before he curses to himself. The wolf glances up from his spot in the corner of Yoongi’s office and asks, “You think I pushed her too much?”
Yoongi looks over the top of his book and remarks, “It isn’t the end of the world, Kookie. Relax. You did a good job with the cleaner. She probably is sleeping next to the t-shirt you gave her and she called you, of all people she could’ve called.”
Jungkook bites his bottom lip and admits, “I’m getting frustrated.”
Yoongi pushes, lightly, “With?”
He puts the book to the side, knowing full well that he wasn’t getting any more ‘him-time’ while the wolf was occupying his personal office in their home. He loved each of his brothers dearly, however… Fuck, he needed his own place sometimes.
“Being patient,” the wolf explains, glibly. “It’s all so fucking boring.”
“Then occupy yourself with things that matter,” Yoongi suggests, moving to his feet. “I think Tae might be done with the guy downstairs, if you want a turn to pummel something moving?”
“The fucker’s still alive? Tae’s losing his touch,” Jungkook remarks, amusedly. He wasn’t lying. Usually, Tae would have had him chopped into tiny pieces and thrown into a river or incinerated. Jungkook wonders why he’s taking his time.
Yoongi snorts, pushing his glasses into his hair. He only needs them when his eyes start to get dry, like now. He usually didn’t use his other form, preferring to be in his natural hybrid state when in the comfort of their own home, but he’s been testing his personal limits recently, worried that he might freak YN out with his skin, his eyes, his tongue… She was prey, at the end of the day. He probably should have the lights off but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. “Not even. Jin won’t let him die. He keeps zapping him with the AFIB machine. I heard he shitted himself.”
“Well, he shouldn’t have been fucking around, pretending to be something he’s not,” Jungkook replies, an annoyed look passing over his face. The younger of the two moves to his feet and he asks, “Say, hyung.” His tone of voice catches Yoongi’s attention, so he sits up a little more in his comfy office chair, eye brow quirking so as to prompt the wolf to continue speaking. “Do you think YN will actually come to understand us?”
Yoongi pauses to mull over his answer for a few seconds before he answers, honestly, "I don’t think she has a choice.”
Jungkook acknowledges his answer with a melancholy look on his face.
Then, he glances down at his Rolex and makes a small noise of glee. “I’ve got a spare hour. I think Tae might be a little fatigued.”
Yoongi snorts before reaching back for the book. His eyes are getting awfully dry. Suddenly, the lights flick off and Jungkook glances back from his spot at the door, a narrow line of yellowed light slightly warming the room.
“Hyung, you know I always know, right?”
Yoongi scoffs. “Get the fuck out of here, pup.”
Jungkook closes the door and Yoongi finally switches back to his natural form, eyes narrowing into slits and he reaches for his book once more, settling comfortably into his chair.
It just started getting good, too.
- end -
Schemer (1), Abstentious (2), Thievery (3), Melancholy (4), Writhing (5), Lusting (6), Non-negotiable (7), Cutting the cord (8), Nevertheless (9)
#bts fic#jjk x reader#myg x reader#bts x reader#bts x yn#mafia fic#mafia bts fic#bts series#ego jungkook#ego yoongi#ego namjoon#ego jimin#ego seokjin#ego bts#stripped au#mafia au#abo bts fic#abo bts#abo dynamics#hybrid bts#bts hybrid#btswriterscollective#btswritersclub#btswritersguild#kpop au#kpop fic#ego hoseok#ego taehyung
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Made by me
The Masterlist
CRAZY OVER YOU
[HYBRID AU]
[FINISHED]✅
Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger, Jungkook/Bunny Hybrid, Hoseok/assistant.
Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior.
Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut.
SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.
INTRO - In the books they say
ONE - Love at first bite
TWO - Bath me with your love
THREE - Hungry for your love I
FOUR - The truth untold II
FIVE - Bitter taste, Jealousy and bites
SIX - Take Me Home
SEVEN - The last bite
SET ME FREE
[MAFIA AU]
On Going
Side Characters: Min Yoongi as Agust D/Mafia boss, Jung Hoseok as Jack/Concierge, Namjoon/Police detective, Jungkook/Police detective, Park Jimin/thief and gang leader, Taehyung/Mafia member FBI Mole, Paradise owner. Jin/unknown, Busan/Mafia boss.
Warnings: This story contains nsfw content (descriptive blood, gore, etc.) as well as sexual content. Mentions may include violence, consumption of alcohol, explicit sexual interactions, sharp objects, knife play, description of injuries, themes of major horror and also explores obsessive behaviors and codependency, robbery, killing, guns, torturing, fire, toxic yandere men, violence, possessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships.
SUMMARY: You made it. Now a police intern as you always promised to your father before he died, you were more than happy to finally be able to help people like he did. But the law was not what you expected to be like. You did not know how lonely it would be for a young woman to grow her career in this kingdom. Having to take care of your 18 year old brother wasn't easy too and things just got a lot worse when you've met Agust D. The king of the mafia Min. He sure knew how to make a life turn into a hell hole.
INTRO
ONE - Red Chopsticks
TWO - I’ll find you in a dark Paradise
THREE - A deal with the devil
FOUR - Welcome to my world
FIVE - Good girl gone bad COMING SOON
SIX - Dance with the devil COMING SOON
FINAL DESTINATION - LILITH COMING SOON
BREATH OF FIRE
[HYBRID GODS AU]
On Going
Side characters: Park Jimin/White fox hybrid.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, violence, sharp objects, suggestive words, smut, alcohol, killing.
Genre: Fantasy, romance, strangers to lovers, R +18.
SUMMARY: Did you know a fox only mates once in their life? For almost 400 years Min Yoongi never mated before, all theses years of emptiness and loneliness. He had tried so many times to end with his own hands. Until one night a hint of sweet and fire blows towards his nose, the smell was something he never felt before. And blood. Running for your life you felt hopeless in front of a lake, two man following you behind. Their disgusting smiles and eyes savoring your female body, you knew what they would do but you'd rather die. It all started with fire.
INTRO - Run little girl
ONE - Wood, cinnamon and honey.
TWO - Please wash away this blood on my skin
THREE - A taste of honey and dreams
FOUR - A Rise From The Shadows (coming soon)
…
FINAL BREATH (coming soon)
BUNNY BUNS
[HYBRID AU]
COMING SOON
Side Characters: Yoongi/black cat hybrid, Hoseok/human, Taehyung/golden hybrid.
Warnings: Smut, violence, mentions of blood. And finally some fluff.
SUMMARY: Jungkook needed to hide. He was on the run. And what better place for a bunny hybrid to hide then a Bunny coffee shop? How could he resist? You smelled sweet and looked nice. All it took was one smile of yours and a bunny bread and he was on all fours for you.
INTRO - Bunny on the run
ONE - Bunnies don’t like water (coming out soon)
TWO - Carrot Cake 🥕: Bunny in the kitchen (coming soon)
THREE - Muscle Bunny to the rescue (coming soon)
FOUR - Bunny Fever (coming soon)
THE LAST BUN (Coming soon)
ONE SHOTS
Coming soon
YOONGI
My Best Friends Crush
Characters: Min Yoongi/music theory Teacher, Jung Hoseok/dance teacher, Jungkook/art and design student, Jimin/danc student, reader/art student.
Genre: strangers to lovers, forbidden love?
Warnings: mentions of explicit language, sexual references(smutty material), consumption of alcohol, age difference.
Summary: “my whole life I always hated rules and protocols, growing to fin comfort on art as I could express myself unapologetically and freely. But there was one rule I made with myself; never fall in love with your friend crush.
With my rebellious nature, it was bound to be broken but I just never meet someone who would take that seriously.”
HOSEOK
JIMIN
JUNGKOOK
JIN
NAMJOON
TAEHYUNG
#bts fanfiction#bts smut#bts x you#bts yoongi#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#bts suga#jimin x reader#jimin smut#jimin fanfic#bts namjoon#namjoon fanfic#namjoon smut#jung hoseok x y/n#jung hoseok smut#hoseok smut#hoseok x reader#jung hoseok x you#jhope smut#j hope fanfic#j hope x you#jhope#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#jungkook fanfic#yoongi mafia#seokjin fanfic#seokjin x y/n
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Collateral 🗡️ POV: Hoseok
Hoseok lets Seokjin break him a little before he picks of the pieces between the family men. Handling everyone's bullshit is a full-time job, but Hoseok does it well.
PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT
❗ THIS IS A CHARACTER POV CHAPTER!!!
if you do not wish to perceive any POV that is not the main character, please feel free to skip this one!
🗡️Seokjin x Hoseok
🗡️ word count: 6.8k
🗡️ mafia au, established relationship, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit, 21+
🗡️ warnings: bottom & submissive Hoseok, top & dominant Seokjin; i don't know if i need to include "bathing one's lover" but idk it feels like a warning bc it's somewhat erotic and feels a little like body worship; shower sex (hair tugging; rough blowjob; use of the word "whore"; using anal toys to stretch oneself; rough anal sex against the wall; cum getting everywhere; mention of safeword; Seokjin's dirty talk is kind of nuts; ass eating; cum eating; a touch of aftercare); mention of drug running activities, creation of weapons, and the acquisition of firearms. some poolside making out.
🗡️ notes: mc is referred to in 3rd person (she/her) pronouns for this chapter! more slice of life, mafia style! this takes place so long ago, it feels cute revisiting this point of the story. enjoy!
🗡️ early draft beta read by @blog-name-idk - with minor unbeta’d edits done since.
🗡️ posted april 2024 - originally may 2023 | read on ao3
Hoseok's morning begins the way they often do: waking up moments before Seokjin's alarm blares. He blinks awake slowly and stretches his arms over his head, rolling away from the body over which his arm and leg had been draped, and onto his back, tugging their blood-red comforter as he moves.
A small whine escapes Hoseok's lips as his muscles tug through the stretch—a gentle hint of discomfort blending with sweet release—and as he lets out a slow, peaceful huff of air, the shrill sound of an alarm screams, making Hoseok wince.
With a grumble, Seokjin reaches and shuts the alarm off, then he rolls onto his back and quickly onto his side, wrapping all his limbs around Hoseok with his eyes barely open. Hoseok feels a warm, deep affection as Seokjin's naked body engulfs his, and he buries his face into Hoseok's neck. The hot breath that wafts from Seokjin's lips tickles enough to make Hoseok grumble and attempt to shove away despite not wanting to leave the tight warmth of his embrace.
"Ho-wah," Seokjin mutters, a familiar nickname that is hardly passable as a word, and Hoseok hums in response. "What are you doing today?"
Now that Seokjin is settled, Hoseok hooks his legs around an ankle and a hip, and he relaxes with his eyes closed while he hums once more, a long pensive sound as he considers all that he has to do today. It is not much, but events and meetings within the family rarely go as planned.
"Gotta meet Ggukie," Hoseok responds through a yawn, making Seokjin yawn, as well. "And then Namjoon. Yoongi and the cub are taking the terror twins to the gun range, so the only person unaccounted for is Jimin."
"Ah, Jiminah," Seokjin grumbles, "what has he been up to?"
"Working," Hoseok responds, though he is not entirely certain. Jimin tends to be the outlier within the family, pursuing his own goals and staying out of trouble as best as he can. It is rare that he requests assistance from any of them. "Perhaps playing. Who knows."
"I miss him," Seokjin says after a few silent seconds. "We should have him back here soon."
"You miss him, or you miss his ass?" Hoseok asks playfully.
Seokjin chuckles as he mutters, "Same thing," with a shrug.
Hoseok supposes he misses Jimin, too. The thought had not occurred before, but now that he is faced with it, he concedes. Jimin is good company, and the way his body melts in tandem with his and Seokjin's really is something special. Not to mention, his pain tolerance is impressive.
"What about you?" Hoseok asks, using his leg to pull Seokjin's leg impossibly closer. "Anything not too unspeakable on the docket?"
"Meeting with Yoongi later," Seokjin says simply, and Hoseok nods in understanding, knowing that more information likely will not come. He adds, "A brief meeting. He might have to go to Hong Kong to chat with The Tigers, so we are finalizing some details."
Hoseok is only somewhat aware of the goings on in Hong Kong with the new guys, having been given the same information as everyone else, which is that Yoongi is going to be using another crew to handle some of the tasks he is no longer interested in being in charge of. Chiefly, drug running, which Hoseok is tasked with having a conversation with Jeongguk about later. If there is one thing the youngest hates, it is change.
"Shall we?" Seokjin grumbles as he begins an attempt to roll away, but Hoseok pulls him close and hugs him tighter.
"We shall not," he whines, taking his turn burying his face in Seokjin's neck to breathe in the faintly soft musk of his skin and hair. "I still have an hour, and you evidently have nothing for a while. Stay here a bit longer."
With a burst of mocking laughter, Seokjin says, "If you want me to fuck you, just say so," and although it was not necessarily what Hoseok had in mind, the idea does excite him.
"Gotta be quick," Hoseok warns; Seokjin loves to take his time and, frankly, an hour is nowhere near long enough.
"Are you being bossy, puppy?" Seokjin responds in a sharp tone, sending a chill through Hoseok that makes his breath fall ragged.
"No, sir," Hoseok responds automatically, body relaxing as Seokjin begins to pull away from their embrace.
"How about we fuck in the shower?" Seokjin offers, voice soft and sweet, giving Hoseok's heart whiplash. "That way we can take care of both activities at once."
Hoseok likes the idea—thrilled at the prospect of having his cheek pressed against cold, hard tile as Seokjin knocks every last bit of air from his lungs.
"Yes, please," he mutters, thrilled when Seokjin sits up and pushes the blanket from the two of them, making Hoseok shiver from the air on his bare skin.
Seokjin swings his legs over the edge of the mattress and lifts his phone briefly from the bedside table, presumably to check for notifications, then he gets up and walks past the length of the bed and around the end toward the ensuite. Hoseok stretches once more before following behind, feet touching down onto a soft burgundy rug over which he wiggles his toes before quickly joining Seokjin.
He shivers when he reaches the en suite and his toes hit cold, white tile, and he quickly prances to the shower stall where Seokjin is busying himself with turning on the various overhead nozzles.
With his toes on another soft red rug, Hoseok stands and crosses his hands in front of him, arms hanging relaxed, waiting to be instructed. He loves handing over control even before they have begun to do anything. It excites him.
"Puppy?" Seokjin calls as water sprays from above and steam fills the pristine white-tiled room.
"Yes, sir," Hoseok responds softly.
Seokjin reaches for a pale pink exfoliating cloth that hangs just to his right, then holds it below a bottle that sits on a waist-high shelf set into the tiled wall and pumps a dollop of clear soap onto it.
"Come," Seokjin says.
Hoseok obeys, stepping into the steamy room to join Seokjin, standing behind him. He takes the towel and begins to wash Seokjin's neck and throat—slowly but thoroughly—before working his way down to Seokjin's shoulders. He washes the right arm first, then the left, making sure to get in between each finger and use his thumbnail to clean under each of Seokjin's fingernails.
Something about bathing his love always feels so ritualistic and calming, and it brings him comfort knowing that Seokjin enjoys it, too.
Where Seokjin stands, there is a small pad that is suctioned to the floor, and as Hoseok makes his way down Seokjin's back and torso, to his legs, he slowly sinks to his knees. He tends to the right leg and then the left, lathering soap and getting lower and lower until Seokjin lifts each foot one at a time for him to wash.
Hoseok stays on his knees as Seokjin steps away to rinse off, and when he returns stroking his pretty, thick length, Hoseok tosses the rag aside, clasps his hands behind his back, and sits up tall to open his mouth like the obedient puppy he is. Without a word, Seokjin takes Hoseok by the back of the head, gripping firmly to his hair, and slides his cock into his mouth.
The weight of Seokjin on his tongue, stretching the corners of his lips, feels like home, and Hoseok sighs happily, fighting the urge to let his eyelids flutter closed. Seokjin likes it when Hoseok keeps his gaze wide on him, and as mist from the shower gets into his eyes, he blinks it away, letting it blend with his building tears.
Seokjin fucks Hoseok's mouth, hitting his throat so rhythmically, Hoseok does his best to swallow around him to build his pleasure as quickly as he can. And it does the trick, making Seokjin squeeze and tug at his hair. Under enough pressure, Hoseok can make Seokjin cum in under five minutes—sometimes even three—and he does his best to press his luck, forgoing breathing until it makes him gag.
With a deep, needy groan, Seokjin pulls out, gripping Hoseok's hair enough to hurt, and Hoseok smirks as best as he can with his mouth hanging open and his tongue lolled out. Anger and arousal burn in Seokjin's gaze, which is precisely what Hoseok wants.
"Trying to make me cum already?" Seokjin groans, yanking on Hoseok's head, making him gasp and grin as he nods.
"Yes, sir."
"Such a greedy little whore."
"Yes, sir."
Without warning, Seokjin shoves his cock back into Hoseok's mouth and slams it deep, causing his throat to constrict and attempt to gag. Hoseok lurches as he breathes through it, doing his best to let the air pass through his nose while his eyes pool with tears. His hands clench and flex behind his back, and he blinks, keeping his eyes as wide as he can manage while Seokjin leers down at him.
"If you're so eager to make me cum, then do it. Let's see how fast you are."
Seokjin pulls out, giving Hoseok a chance to heave in air, and then slides himself back into his throat, setting a quick pace of fucking as deep as he can. Hoseok relaxes his jaw and attempts to swallow around him, fluttering his muscles somewhat frantically. It is not his best work, but it is honest work, causing Seokjin to squeeze his hair and rut unevenly against his face.
It takes no time at all for Seokjin to unravel, and Hoseok hums and moans to vibrate his throat around him, causing Seokjin's own hums and moans to grow louder and more desperate.
"So good," Seokjin whimpers, "fuck, I'm gonna cum."
Hoseok loves these tiny moments of hearing Seokjin becoming completely gone. His voice cracks and breaks, and his body spasms, handing full control for a few glorious seconds over to Hoseok, who takes over, eagerly sucking him off until his hair is being squeezed so hard, the pain in his scalp is white-hot.
Without another word, Seokjin cums, trembling as spurt after spurt of release hits Hoseok's tongue and trickles down his throat. He does his best to swallow in order to avoid the sensation tickling too much, and he continues to suck until Seokjin is overstimulated and muttering for him to stop.
"Up," Seokjin commands, voice fucked up and weak as he tugs roughly at Hoseok's hair. "Stretch yourself for me. I want to watch."
Hoseok gets up with a groan, knees having grown accustomed to being bent against the cushion, then he takes his place against the wall, face pressed into cold tile as he uses both hands to spread himself wide and prod at his hole for Seokjin's amusement. There is a shelf to his right dedicated to Hoseok's stretching ritual, and he wastes no time squirting lube onto a metal toy and working himself open with it, hissing and moaning from the stretch.
Seokjin rubs his hands up and down Hoseok's thighs all the while, squeezing at the soft flesh and cooing at him for being so pretty and perfect, all for him.
Once Hoseok is stretched around the toy—legs trembling fiercely—Seokjin stands and takes his place behind him, cock hard once more and ready for him. Hoseok loves days like these, when they do not have time to fully, properly prep him before they fuck. He loves the intense, blinding sting of Seokjin working him open, forcing him to accommodate his size.
The pain is so intense Hoseok holds his breath, quickly becoming lightheaded from the steam that wafts around him, frantically placing the toy back onto the shelf where it lives. He could die just like this and be the happiest man in hell.
"Too fucking tight," Seokjin groans against Hoseok's neck, shoving him against the tile wall as he trusts into him way too soon for it to feel good.
Hoseok lets out a weak, "Ah!" dragging his lips against the wall, which is streaked with droplets of condensation from their forgotten shower.
"No matter how much I fuck this little hole, you are always so god damn tight."
Hoseok's hands slide up to rest against the wall beside his ribs, and he digs his fingertips against the grout between tiles, desperate for purchase of any kind. But it is senseless; there is nothing to get a grip of once Seokjin sets a pace and begins using him properly; all Hoseok can do is chase his own high and hope he does not fall.
He has never fallen, yet; Seokjin would never let him.
With a slam of his hips, Seokjin knocks what is left of the air from Hoseok's lungs, forcing Hoseok's cock to uncomfortably hit the wall. The squeeze between his body and cold tile is painful—just as he likes it.
Seokjin sets a punishing pace working Hoseok open, making his screams and sobs echo loudly through the room. The white noise from the shower running behind him causes Hoseok to zone out and fall pliant for Seokjin, who allows him to rest his head back against his shoulder.
Seokjin is merciless with the way he fucks, sending waves of pleasure-pain rocking through Hoseok's body, from the base of his neck down through his fingertips and toes. Hoseok's sobs become voiceless gasps and hisses, and he closes his eyes, letting all the world fade away, leaving only himself and the ruthless, wet slam of Seokjin's hips.
Without warning, Seokjin reaches around and begins to tug at Hoseok's cock, making him scream—ripped from his warm, floaty euphoric place back to reality far too soon. It only takes a few strokes to send Hoseok to the edge, forcing him to paint the tile with his release, and then Seokjin shoves him against the tile to slide against his own goopy cum while he continues.
It is absolutely disgusting the way Hoseok's torso becomes covered in sticky release. How he manages to shoot it so high up is beyond him, but he can feel the cum against his chest, causing him to slide up and down the wall.
The painful squeeze of overstimulation takes over suddenly, and Hoseok begins to claw once more at the thin strips of grout, desperate for relief. But relief does not come—not yet. Seokjin uses him past the point of overstimulation, mocking and cooing while Hoseok begs him to finish.
"Please," Hoseok squeals as Seokjin's cock drills him painfully hard and deep, "please, it's too much. I can't—sir, I can't! Cum for me, please, please!"
Sir, I can't is not Hoseok's safeword, and his pleas go ignored, falling on deaf ears.
Rather, Seokjin just encourages him to keep screaming.
"Fuck, listen to your desperation, baby. That is gonna make me cum. Keep begging me to stop. You sound so fucking good."
The urge to revolt and become petulant rises despite the pleasure that courses through him, and the heightened emotions assist with causing his cock to expand once more. At this rate, if Seokjin manages to pull a second and third orgasm from him, Hoseok will surely be lost to the world for the rest of the day, and he needs to be coherent to meet with Jeongguk.
But reasoning with the man while he is balls-deep and mocking him is impossible. And Hoseok would be unable to find the words, anyway, already having used up his last few working brain cells to attempt to beg his lover to cum.
"Sir," he mutters mindlessly between loud sobs, instead, "please. Pleasepleaseplease."
"Sounds so pretty when you cry," Seokjin coos gently as his hips rut hard and fast.
Seokjin's fingers hold tightly to Hoseok's hips, undoubtedly adding to the dots of bruises already there. If Hoseok had more wits about him, it may even hurt a little to have Seokjin dig into past marks, but instead, the area is hot and tingling, feeling a bit numb.
"You're lucky we don't have all morning," Seokjin groans against Hoseok's neck, dragging his lips and teeth over the skin, sending a shiver down his back. "You're lucky I can't use you until you really are begging me to stop. I would gladly fuck this tight little asshole until you are inside out and falling a-fucking-part."
God, Hoseok loves it when Seokjin becomes sadistic, saying the most deranged shit while buried deep inside him. He practically changes his tune and begs him to fuck him until he is completely broken, never to be used again. He feels exhilarated and incapable of being reasoned with.
Seokjin yanks Hoseok's ass back, pulling him off the wall, and ruts impossibly faster, causing Hoseok's back to arc, frozen in pleasure while he trembles from the pain. Hoseok does his best to stay in place, feet planted on a little mat below so that he does not slide, and Seokjin uses him until his hips become uneven and he fills him with his release.
The sound of Seokjin moaning echoes loudly off the walls, voice pitchy and ripped to shreds. Hands caress Hoseok's sides and back, over his shoulders and down his arms, and affection blooms throughout him as Seokjin's hips quake and he pulls out.
As the hands slide down to Hoseok's hips and ass, Hoseok widens his stance and presses his chest once more into the wall, shivering as his skin hits the cold, hard surface. Seokjin spreads him wide and begins eating him out, licking, sucking, and prodding at his hole, pushing Hoseok close to his second orgasm.
Seokjin is loud as he devours him, slurping and humming as if his own cum is the most delicious meal he has ever had. And when Seokjin is finished, he takes Hoseok by the hips and spins him around, making Hoseok giggle as he stumbles until his ass hits tile and his cock is swallowed whole.
The sensation makes Hoseok double over, placing his hands on Seokjin's shoulders for stability. Seokjin wastes no time sucking like his life depends on it, squeezing his cheeks tight and pushing Hoseok deep into his throat. Hoseok is unable to find the words of warning, voice breaking on scrambled vowels and consonants as he shoots his cum into his boyfriend's throat.
When Seokjin releases his spent cock and sits back on his knees, Hoseok finally lets out a large gust of breath he had been holding onto. He feels exhausted and used in all the best ways, hole achingly empty.
Seokjin gets onto his feet, grabs a blue cloth from the wall, and lathers it with soap, then begins to wash Hoseok much the same way Hoseok had washed him earlier. His movements are a bit rushed, but he is thorough, and for that, Hoseok is grateful. He really could stand in this shower all day and bask in the attention of his lover. What a shame he has to meet with Jeongguk so early.
* * *
Dressed in his standard blacks, Hoseok makes his way to Jeongguk’s front step, taking the steel door knocker in his fist and firmly slamming it into the door three times. He is six minutes behind schedule, but only Seokjin and Yoongi care about tardiness. And anyway, he sent Jeongguk a text when he left to let him know he was on his way.
Jeongguk opens the door just enough to unlock it, and Hoseok places a palm over the dark wood and presses forward, letting himself in.
“Sorry, hyung,” Jeongguk grumbles as he walks quickly from the door toward the kitchen. He wears a long black tee and black joggers, and his hair is a wild, dark mess.
Hoseok snickers and kicks from his shoes, curious whether Taehyung is lurking somewhere. Then he makes his way through the mostly empty space, past a couch that is shoved too close to the television for anyone to actually sit at, and the punching bag that takes up the center of the room. He finds the youngest at the stove, stirring something.
“Have you eaten?” Jeongguk asks without glancing over his shoulder.
Hoseok grabbed a bite of a blueberry muffin that Seokjin had been enjoying before leaving, but otherwise, he had not found the time to have breakfast.
“I have not.”
“Good,” Jeongguk responds, continuing to stir.
The smell of peppers, onions, and butter wafts into his senses as he slowly and carefully has a seat at Jeongguk’s dining table. His stomach growls loudly.
“I wanted to have it done before you got here, but I was…uh…distracted.”
“Is your distraction still here?” Hoseok teases, curious because he is unsure whether Taehyung has clearance to overhear their conversation.
“He went home,” Jeongguk simply responds as he begins plating the food.
Hoseok sits back in the wooden chair and watches as Jeongguk takes out two glasses for water and one for coffee. He fills the coffee cup, leaving it black the way Hoseok likes it, and brings it over while cradling two water glasses in his other hand.
“I can help you,” Hoseok offers, knowing Jeongguk does not accept help but eager to be polite.
“You relax, hyung,” Jeongguk insists as the drinks are set down, and he returns to the counter where the plates have been left, carrying one in each hand.
Jeongguk has made omelets with a scoop of rice and kimchi on the side, and Hoseok watches with bated breath as the plate is set before him, picking up utensils, eager to dig in.
“Eat well,” Jeongguk says as he rounds the table and takes the seat in front of him.
Once Jeongguk is settled down, Hoseok digs in. He wonders if, in another life, Jeongguk would have taken up cooking as a profession. Everything is seasoned perfectly and cooked just right, as always.
“This is amazing, Ggukah,” Hoseok mutters with a mouthful of food, chasing it back with a gulp of perfectly brewed coffee. “Thank you.”
Jeongguk hums in response, eating quickly, as if his life depends on it. It is always this way with Jeongguk—he always seems in some great rush to finish his food.
Hoseok, on the other hand, takes his time, savoring each bite while waiting for Jeongguk to be ready to talk. When the youngest finally does shove his plate away with a satisfied groan, Hoseok pats at the sides of his mouth with his white cloth napkin and places it gently beside his half-empty plate.
“About this transition of duties,” Hoseok begins, winning him a petulant whine from across the table that makes him chuckle softly. He decides to tease the guy, instead. “Are you really this sour about giving up drug running?”
“It’s not about the drugs,” Jeongguk insists for what he clearly believes to be the hundredth time, based on the dramatic look of exasperation that he pulls. “It’s about—“
“The principle of the thing,” Hoseok interrupts, taking the words from Jeongguk’s lips. “You will have more responsibilities as one of Yoongi’s right hands.”
“I'm sure he needs more right hands since his current one is busy fucking his fiancée,” Jeongguk grumbles, not missing a beat.
Hoseok cannot hold back the laughter that bursts from his chest, winning him a glare from across the table. Jeongguk's audacity never fails to crack Hoseok up.
“His fake fiancée,” Hoseok corrects as he lifts his coffee to his lips and savors a warm, bittersweet gulp.
Jeongguk rolls his eyes, clearly already fed up with this conversation. And Hoseok cannot blame him; things seemed fine before Yoongi set his sights on the cub. Why he decided to complicate their lives and hers is still beyond him. The money her ex owes him is hardly enough to be concerned over—certainly less than they usually shake a man down for.
“Namjoon still performs all his duties,” Hoseok continues, feeling a sudden urge to defend his friend.
He really does feel for Namjoon—the man is so desperately in love with Yoongi, and he did struggle at first with feelings of being replaced when their little darling moved in, especially when he had to start sleeping in his own bed again. “Yoongi is simply tired of being a drug lord. He makes enough to afford a middle man, and The Tigers are a good fit.”
The Tigers are a group currently operating out of Hong Kong. Should they accept the responsibilities of Yoongi’s drug operations, they would have income flooding in. Two of their associates are stationed in Taiwan, tripling their efforts. All of this has been explained to Jeongguk, of course, yet he refuses to listen.
“I could use a hand with weapons,” Hoseok says, trying a new tactic of swaying him. Truth be told, he really could use some help with both the acquisition of firearms, the building of incendiaries, and other pleasure projects. Ryujin has been a bit too quiet these days, and if she gets word about Hyunjin, they may need to be prepared for anything.
Jeongguk hums, nodding once while avoiding eye contact, the way he does when there is something on his mind. Hoseok has an idea of what may be bothering him, but he waits to see if he will spit it out while he has a couple more bites of his cold breakfast.
When he does not, Hoseok chases the food with water and asks, “What is it?” before shoveling more food into his mouth. Jeongguk really is a phenomenal cook.
“I just…” Jeongguk begins.
Then he finally lifts his face, and Hoseok sees all essence of the man stripped away, leaving behind the wide-eyed boy he knew back when he joined the family. The look in Jeongguk's eye is one of worry, making Hoseok’s heart ache, and he sets his utensils down and places his hands in his lap.
“Nobody is replacing you, Jeonggukah.”
Jeongguk frowns. “That’s not—“
“Are you sure?”
With a sigh, Jeongguk shakes his head. Then he points his gaze, squinting at Hoseok.
“Has Seokjin hyung told you something?”
This makes Hoseok chuckle, further furrowing Jeongguk’s brow.
“Jeonggukah, Seokjin is not conspiring anything. I know you tend to be wary of him, but although there are plenty of things only he knows, he is not hiding anything.”
“Hmm,” Jeongguk responds, folding his arms over his chest. “We’ll see.”
With that, Jeongguk leaves the room, and Hoseok cracks a smile before finishing his plate of food. The sound of velcro adjusting cuts through the silence of the room, and Hoseok savors the final bites of omelet and kimchi. Then he drinks back the rest of the coffee and leaves the dining space to join Jeongguk.
He hears the sounds of glove-clad fists hitting a punching bag before he sees Jeongguk boxing—hopping lightly from foot to foot and pretending to dodge between punches.
“I meant it when I said I could use help,” Hoseok calls loud enough to be heard over Jeongguk’s fists striking leather.
Jeongguk says nothing, but Hoseok can see in his eyes that he is considering the offer. The man is smart and having someone like him on his team would be invaluable.
And, perhaps with his closeness in proximity, Hoseok can help the guy cope a little better with his demons. He thinks no longer having first dibs on all of the best cocaine in Seoul will be good for Jeongguk.
Hoseok stands a while longer and watches Jeongguk box. Everything from his stance to his strikes is calculated and precise; showmanship at its finest. Really, everything Jeongguk does amazes Hoseok, when he thinks about it.
Finally, Jeongguk stops. Even though not much time has passed, he is panting and glistening with a sheen of sweat. He rolls his shoulders back and nods to Hoseok as he speaks.
"What have you been building?"
Hoseok perks up and considers this a win, smiling to himself as he runs through a mental list of all the latest gadgets and weapons he has been in the process of manufacturing.
"One of my latest toys is a hubcap with blades that extend out, so you can ram the car next to you and slash their tires."
Jeongguk's mouth and eyes widen comically, then he blinks from his thoughts and shakes his head, laughing as he asks, "You're joking, right?"
"Nah," Hoseok responds, also laughing because Jeongguk is absolutely precious. "We've been working on them for several months."
With another shake of his head, Jeongguk mutters, "That's some James Bond shit," and Hoseok laughs even harder, bending at the waist and placing his hands on his knees for stability.
"You have no idea," he says, thinking of all the other James Bond-type contraptions and weapons he has been working on, making Jeongguk laugh harder.
Moments pass, the laughter dies, and Jeongguk nibbles on his bottom lip while his eyes trail around the room. He screws up his face the way he does whenever faced with a choice, then nods his head and says, "Alright. I'll consider joining you."
This makes Hoseok's heart soar, and he claps his hands while shouting, "Oh, good!" and making Jeongguk laugh some more.
* * *
Jinnie Might have to head to Busan and oversee Hyunjin's escape. Care to join me?
Hoseok As exciting as that sounds, I think I would rather stay home and enjoy a nice warm bubble bath.
Jinnie Preemptively scheduling a bath without knowing which day I have to leave?
Hoseok You know me, always prepared for anything!
Jinnie Suit yourself. I expect pics, baby.
Hoseok Of course, sir. ;) How was the meeting?
Jinnie Brief. Yoongi and company came back from the range drunk, and they all convened in the pool. Could hardly capture his attention for ten minutes.
Hoseok Did he forget about the meeting?
Jinnie Likely, but that's fine. I just needed the green light to start pulling Hyunjin out. I have a feeling he doesn't actually care how I do it as long as it gets done.
Hoseok Anything involving Busan is a sore spot.
Jinnie It's ridiculous, honestly. How many years will it take for him to move on?
Hoseok I wanted to speak with him, but I guess it can wait. Coming back home?
Jinnie Walking up the path right now, baby.
Hoseok Movie night?
Jinnie Sounds perfect.
* * *
Hours earlier, after his meeting with Jeongguk, Hoseok sent a text to Yoongi asking when a good time to meet up and have a little chat might be. He is surprised to find Yoongi responding, given that Seokjin said he was drunk earlier. He wonders if it would be wise to check in with his friend at a time like this.
Credits roll on The Matrix, and Hoseok sighs as he leans forward to place the empty metal popcorn dish onto the table, careful not to stir Seokjin, whose head lies in his lap; as soon as the film began, it had taken approximately twenty minutes for him to fall fast asleep.
Despite his efforts, however, Seokjin grumbles and rolls onto his back, stretching as best as he can, given he is lying on a long mauve velvet couch with his head resting on a thigh. Hoseok gently runs his fingers through Seokjin's hair, smiling at the man who blinks away sleep with a lazy smile.
"Yoongi messaged a bit ago saying I could stop by for a chat, so I think I may."
With a sound somewhere between a hum and a yawn, Seokjin asks, "Mmm—what time is it?" while curling onto his side toward the back of the couch with his face buried against Hoseok's stomach.
"A little after seven," Hoseok guesses, given it was around five when they started the film.
"What are you gonna talk about?" Seokjin mutters, voice muffled in Hoseok's black t-shirt, huffing warmth through the fabric and onto his skin.
"Just gonna touch base and let him know how my talk with Jeongguk went. I have a feeling Gguk hasn't said anything about it."
"Likely not," Seokjin grumbles.
"We've also gotten some offers from a Russian contact for some machine guns, and I am curious whether that is something he may want."
Seokjin nods and rolls onto his back before sitting up with a groan, seeming reluctant to lose the lap that so dutifully acts as a pillow. He yawns again as he asks, "Kalashnikova? Vityaz?"
Hoseok lifts his legs straight and stretches, then slides to the edge of the couch and stands, feeling the tired ache of limbs that have sat unmoving for far too long.
"My, aren't we a nosey one," Hoseok teases, avoiding the question because he does not like discussing firearms in the comfort of his home.
Stepping in front of Seokjin, Hoseok takes his face in both hands and plants quick, sloppy kisses against his cheeks and forehead until Seokjin gets frustrated and attempts to push him away.
"Excuse me for taking an interest in your work," he pouts.
Hoseok smiles and concedes, giving Seokjin space and letting him breathe. Then he walks over to the entrance, grabs a black bomber jacket from the rack beside the front door, and slides his feet into a pair of black leather loafers.
"See you soon, Jinnie," Hoseok calls, glancing back to the couch to find no sign of Seokjin—he must have laid back down.
A grumble from the couch confirms his suspicions, and Hoseok smiles as he makes his way out the door, into the cool evening air. Just to be sure that Yoongi is still available to meet, Hoseok gives him a call, making his way down the path that leads to the back gardens of the main mansion. He enjoys taking the long way.
"Ah, there he is!" Yoongi announces, bypassing any greeting, and Hoseok can already tell that Yoongi is definitely still drunk. He thinks he can hear the terror twins shouting in the background and wonders if they are all still at the pool.
"Here I am," Hoseok responds, eyes on the gravel and dirt path ahead. "I'm heading over now, assuming this is still a good time."
"Ah, I would have told you to wear a bathing suit!"
Hoseok chuckles and shakes his head despite there being nobody to see him. "I'm not in the mood for a swim, but I appreciate the gesture. Who is with you?"
The longer of the two paths that connects the two properties opens into the shrub maze in the back of Yoongi's gardens, and Hoseok walks around it, taking the shortcut along a path between the outermost hedges and the wall of trees that enclose the property. From this distance, he can see lights shining above the pool area.
"Joonie, Tae, and Ggukie," Yoongi mutters.
"You sure your hands aren't too full?" Hoseok teases as he passes through an archway, into the larger garden, walking past the Greek statues and fountains.
"Never too full," Yoongi responds with a chuckle. "You know I love to be overwhelmed at all times."
Hoseok knows all too well that this is the case; it is part of what worries him.
"Is the pool entrance open?" Hoseok asks as he approaches; there is a gate that leads directly into the pool from the garden, making it easier to get to than walking through the mansion.
"Joonie!" Yoongi yells, muffled slightly as if his hand is over the microphone of his device. "Be a dear and let Seokie in through the gate!"
Hoseok approaches in time for the large wooden door to swing open, and he stops in his tracks when he is greeted by Namjoon glistening wet with a dopey smile, wearing black swim trunks that cling to what little they manage to cover.
He has all but forgotten about his call with Yoongi, and he glances at his phone to find that the call has already been ended. With a chuckle, he slides the device into his pocket, bows his head at Namjoon, and mutters, "Thanks, Joon," as he enters the pool area.
Something sexy and downtempo plays over the speakers, and there are champagne bottles scattered from the diving boards to the pool beds that are tucked away under awnings. Hoseok finds Taehyung and Jeongguk making out in the deep end by the diving boards, with Jeongguk pressed against the wall and Taehyung looming over him. It takes a moment to notice that on the far end of the space, Yoongi is reclined in the hot tub.
"Right this way, sir," Namjoon says in a mock butler voice, guiding Hoseok toward Yoongi with a stiff, open palm, making Hoseok laugh. They walk side by side, Namjoon with a bit of a sway in his step.
"Where's the sweetheart?" Hoseok asks, noticing her absence.
"She ran off a while ago," Namjoon responds, and Hoseok notices the little grin that blooms on his face. "Got overwhelmed by too much attention, I imagine."
Oh, this is interesting, indeed. "Attention, hmm?"
Namjoon chuckles and softly mutters, "Taehyung made some offhand comment about her and Jeongguk hooking up, and I don't think she has recovered."
"Is that wise?" Hoseok asks before he can stop himself. And although Namjoon seems unaffected by the question, he adds, "Sharing with Taehyung, I mean?"
With a shrug, Namjoon mutters, "Come on, hyung; you and I have both been there before," and he breaks off to round the hot tub from the opposite side where a set of steps are, to wade over to Yoongi.
"Champagne?" Yoongi asks, and Namjoon's eyes widen as if he had forgotten something.
"Ah, right!" Namjoon responds, "I got distracted and brought you something else."
Hoseok grabs a pool bed and pulls it over to where Yoongi is reclining, dragging it until he can sit within his eye-line, then he has a seat and leans with his elbows on his knees.
"Hoseokah!" Yoongi shouts with a similarly dopey grin as he sits up, and Hoseok laughs.
"You're drunk, boss. Should we talk another time?"
Yoongi shakes his head and frowns. "More tired than drunk. But you have my attention."
Although he expects that they will be having this conversation again at some point, Hoseok begins anyway.
"Jeonggukah doesn't quite seem sold on The Tigers yet, but he has agreed to help with my team if that is something you are interested in allowing."
Yoongi hums and nods, and Namjoon says, "Seokjin has also recommended him for House of Cards, and Jimin has asked about him working the brothels. But I feel like your team could use his brainpower more than the others."
Hoseok is not surprised that Seokjin has jumped on the chance to ask for him, but he is a bit taken aback by Jimin asking for help. Jimin likes his things to be his and only his; he has rejected plenty of offers by the family men and Changbin's security crew to help in the past.
"I agree that Hoseok's team could use him the most," Yoongi says, voice sounding surprisingly clear considering how tired and inebriated he seems. "But I like the idea of him being sought after. I will find out what the others may need from him, and we can see about having him become a floater."
"I think that's best," Namjoon agrees.
Hoseok hums and nods his head; the more people are chomping at the bit to have Jeongguk around, the more distracted he may be from whatever plagues him. And he will be less inclined to let his abandonment trauma seep in and make him feel like The Tigers are stepping in to replace him.
"Alright," Yoongi says with a sigh as he begins to sit up. "I need to get out of here before I become any more lightheaded. Let's run the idea by Jeongguk, and then I am going to get some sleep."
"Sounds good, boss," Hoseok says, standing from the pool bed. All of this could have been negotiated as a phone call, but at least he got plenty of fresh air today.
Hoseok drags the pool bed back to its rightful spot and joins the others to run the plan by Jeongguk. Taehyung reluctantly stops pressing the youngest into the pool wall, and when Jeongguk turns to face Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hoseok, his gaze is fucked out, and hickeys cover his neck. Hoseok laughs, watching as the poor guy's face turns beet red, and then, after some berating from Yoongi and Namjoon, they begin their conversation.
This is nice, Hoseok thinks.
The nights are becoming cooler but still temperate enough to handle without bundling up—although Namjoon and Yoongi are shivering into towels that they have draped over their shoulders.
Despite light pollution, a few bright stars are visible as the sun continues to fully set, and everything seems…calm. Peaceful. Happy.
Hoseok holds onto this moment and tucks it away. He hopes that everything within the family can stay this good for a while.
*
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#hoseok mafia#seokjin mafia#yoongi mafia#hoseok smut#seokjin smut#bts mafia#bts smut#bts angst#fic: collateral
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nexus (m) part 6
pairing: jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader ft. hobi x reader, namjoon x reader, yoongi x reader
smut: taehyung x reader, jungkook x reader, some hobi x reader
premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest. after a shocking murder, a detective with a vendetta drags you into unraveling a web of dangerous lies that cause you to question who you trust, and who you love
genre: 18+ slow burn romance mafia elite arranged marriage murder mystery thriller
characters: detective jungkook, heir taehyung, ceo namjoon, arms dealer hoseok, bartender yoongi, doctor jimin, best friend/heir seokjin
wordcount: 6.2k
warnings: 18+ multiple smut scenes, oral (f and m), fingering, sexual tension, like a lot of sexual tension, a lot of subtle touching, grinding, kisses, possessive behavior, tsundere!taehyung, implied bipolar disorder, angstttt, betrayal, light yandere undertones, taehyung gets his first kiss...and some other things too ;) breast play, hella teasing, did i mention sexual tension idk taehyung is hot ok but hes also scary do with that what you will, declarations of love, jungkook tryna be sweet we been knew ig, as you might imagine this sets the foreplay for loads of smut in the next part LOL, its a lot of slow burn build up and evident thirsting over this taehyung okay im not sorry
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“I can’t lose you”
Taehyung’s words haunted you as you stared aimlessly at the tiled ceiling. The hospital room chilly, the smell of alcohol—the sanitizing kind, unfortunately—overwhelming your senses. There were other things you could be thinking about. Namjoon in jail. Jimin dead. Hobi betraying your trust.
But no. It had been Taehyung’s eyes that were on your mind—was it concern? Worry? Taehyung with emotions was a rare sighting. You were practically cherishing the moment.
“It’s late”
The devil in question sat by the windowsill of your private hospital room, minding his own. Reading. Fingers bending the corners of a paperback novel as his eyes trailed over the pages with interest.
Even in the dark hue of the night, the faded moon seemed to hit his face just right.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Go to sleep” His answer was frank, “None of that matters until you get better”
“How can I not think about it?” You snapped. “Namjoon went to jail for me. Because I was an idiot and trusted Hobi. Bet my ass he killed Dr. Park too. I’m probably next. And if he murders me—you won’t get to, Tae”
The corners of Taehyung’s lips curled ever so slightly.
His uninterested eyes steady on the pages of his novel. Not bothering to glance your way.
“Have you ever considered just keeping yourself out of dangerous situations? Whatever it is you’re trying to prove…that you’re powerful, like your mother…that my family wronged you—all it does is show that you’re still their puppet.”
He exhaled sharply, a dismissive scoff that tore your confidence thread by thread, finally meeting your eyes.
“It’s pathetic”
You’d had just about enough of him. Fingernails digging into your palms.
“You’re an asshole Taehyung” You informed him. He shrugged.
“I’m honest” He countered. “And you’re not used to that. You’re used to being babied.” Finally setting his book aside, he walked up to your bedside, kneeling down until he was at your eye level.
“Now will you please sleep?”
The look in his eyes perplexed you. You couldn’t quite tell if he was annoyed, or if he genuinely cared about your health.
Deep down, you knew he was right. Everything you’d done had been to prove a point.
Taehyung rested his head on the armrest. Watching you intently, his eyes tired, dropping unconsciously.
“You’re the one who needs sleep, idiot” You muttered under your breath, letting your fingers run through his soft, wispy black hair. “Taehyung” You nudged him. He barely opened his eyes.
“Get in here” You shifted over, giving him space. He didn’t question it in the moment, he was probably too tired. He didn’t face you. Kept a decent distance between you both.
You were paralyzed. Aware of his every breath. Aware of the way he shifted himself to get comfortable—you could sense the intention in his avoidance of touching your skin even slightly. His scent was more prominent.
“Do you miss your mother?”
His question was so quiet, you weren’t even sure it was real.
And it occurred to you then, that you’d never thought about it. That you’d never even been asked. In the chaos of your mother’s death, your move to the Kim’s and Taehyung being sent away—you barely even processed anything. All you remembered was Jin being so patronizingly worried about you—convincing you that he was all you needed. That you moving in with him would fix everything.
You blinked wildly. Trying to piece together a coherent answer.
“I liked her” A smile creeped onto his face. Or so you thought, as you turned to see the side of his face—his eyes steady on the ceiling fan. “She’d always get me hotteok”
You watched him. Inspected the mole on his neck. The curve of his cheek. The way his long lashes merged when he’d blink. The way the night sparkled in his eyes. The same eyes that would bend your will so easily.
Young Taehyung would give you one look and you’d give him the world. And he’d known it too.
It was so quiet. But your chest was beating loud in your ears.
You must have fallen asleep despite yourself. Dreaming of Jungkook had become a standard practice. This time, he was drowning. You were him, and he couldn’t breathe. You reached out to him as he screamed for you. He was terrified. Falling. Dying.
Breathe.
You tried to tell him. Swim to the surface. Breathe. Something chained him down.
Your eyes shot open.
It was dark.
You. You couldn’t breathe.
Suffocating you, the cotton tasted bitter on your toungue. You squirmed. Thrashing, trying to grab for someone—anyone. You screamed out, for what it was worth. Scratching at the strong hands that held the pillow down over your face.
Adrenaline surged. It occurred to you to kick your legs. You did.
Suddenly the grip loosened.
Taehyung was on the floor.
Panting.
Hyperventilating.
The pillow inches from his palm.
He was quivering. Eyes shot—looking down as if he himself couldn’t believe what he was doing.
You stared at him. Trying to comprehend. Trying to rationalize.
“Taehyung” His name left your mouth in a more accusatory manner than you meant it to. Was it a question or a plea—you were unsure. He met your eyes, and you saw fear. As if he’d been pulled out of a trance.
“I—” He couldn’t form the words. He receded into himself, moving back until he was as far from your hospital bed as he could be. Back pressed against the wall as he hugged his knees to his chest. His voice was shaking, “I don’t—”
“Were you trying to kill me?” You yelped, looking around suddenly for your phone. Grabbing it you held it to your chest, ready to call for help if he tried anything. You almost wanted to laugh—thinking for a moment that you were safe around Kim fucking Taehyung.
You should’ve known better.
Taehyung’s eyes were overcome with horror. Disgust, at himself. He looked at his hands as if they weren’t a part of his own body. Then back at you.
“Princess” He was breathless, “—I swear, I didn’t mean to. I was d-dreaming, I didn’t know”
You gulped. Your fingers curling around your phone as you tried to think.
Maybe he was telling you the truth. Taehyung didn’t know to lie to you. He was honest if nothing else.
“Come back” You let your voice soften, but your body remained tense. “Go back to sleep Tae”
Taehyung gave you an uncertain look.
You rose from the bed, the hospital gown falling loosely around your curves. Kneeling down, you met his eyes at his level. Taking the pillow from the ground, you reached your other hand out to him.
“Maybe,” You sighed, “Maybe being in a hospital is triggering for you” It was a stretch, but you needed to believe there was something. Something that wasn’t that Taehyung hated your guts. Resented you, and would go as far as to kill you in your sleep because of it.
“It is”
He confessed quietly, still not meeting your gaze.
The pout on his lips, evident.
“You didn’t have to stay”
He looked at you.
He said nothing.
“Why don’t I call Yoongi, hm?” You reasoned, “He can take you home” And then you can call Jungkook and get the fuck away from him.
The phone rang.
Jungkook groaned, shoving his face into his pillow.
It kept fucking ringing.
Knowing deep down it might be the precinct, reluctantly, he put the phone to his ear.
“Hey”
Your voice was an aphrodisiac.
He felt it straight in his chest. Awake, now. Worried, seconds later.
He rubbed his eyes, checking his phone to see how late it was.
“Y/n? Baby, is everything okay? Are you still at the hospital?”
“I’m fine.” You weren’t. He could hear the tremble in your voice, “I just sent Taehyung home. Can I come to your place?”
Jungkook sighed. “Sure. I’ll be there soon”
Perks of having a police vehicle. Traffic was never an issue for him.
Entering the hospital, he noticed Yoongi and Taehyung in the lobby, heading towards the back exit. Yoongi had his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. Seemed to be reassuring him.
Jungkook wondered what happened. You called Yoongi to the hospital so late to take Taehyung home.
He got in the elevator. He knew what room you were in. He’d been the one to bring you to the hospital, before the staff kindly reminded him he was not family—or rather, he wasn’t a Kim, and therefore couldn’t go into your room.
Then Jimin’s body was found. Duty called.
Three gunshots. He didn’t see him, but the autopsy report was eerily similar to that of his own fathers.
You were waiting at the front desk of the inpatient ward. Signing what he assumed were your discharge papers. You noticed him, eyes lighting up immediately.
Jungkook placed his calloused palm against your cheek. Your eyes were so fucking beautiful it stung him just to look at you.
“You’re okay” He breathed, reassuring himself more than anything. His voice trembled softly into a chuckle as you nodded, covering his palm with your own.
“Yeah, I’m okay” His lips neared yours, not touching, but enough for you to feel his breath scrape against your nerves.
He took your hand in his, and led you out of the hospital to his car. It was a short drive to his apartment. It occurred to him that you’d likely never stepped foot on this side of the city. The streets were narrow. Crippling houses dotted his peripheral—a faint scent of smoke through his windows.
He parked on the edge of the street, in front of an average-sized apartment complex.
“The Jeon Manor” He joked lightly.
You pouted, grabbing his hand. Fingers lacing with his.
“You know I don’t care that you’re not rich”
Jungkook wanted to scoff. But he held it back. If only you knew. If only you realized what could have been his, if it hadn’t been for—
“I don’t care where we are, I just want to be with you”
You brought his hand to your lips.
“Stop” He exhaled.
“W-what?”
“Stop saying shit like that when you won’t fucking commit”
You gulped. His stare was intense as he pulled his hand away from you, running in through his dark curls.
“Jungkook” You reached for his shirt, tugging the fabric towards you but Jungkook’s jaw hardened. He turned away. “Jungkook I’m serious”
“You won’t leave Nexus for me, you told me that. You won’t fight for me”
You tugged harder. He grabbed your wrist, harsher than he meant to. Glaring at you.
You didn’t understand. Jungkook should have known. Why would you? This was personal for you. Running Nexus was a point you had to prove, he understood that. But it was the very thing he needed you to give up. If not, then you’d never forgive him for what was coming.
“I love you”
Jungkook’s eyes clenched shut, almost out of regret. He felt tears but pushed them down.
“No.” He shook his head. Shit. He had let this go too far.
For as much as he’d wanted to hear it, it was a wake up call. The two of you couldn’t be together.
“You can’t”
Then he kissed you. His heart was erratic, breathing too. A desperate kiss, fierce with need. Your body fell limp, melting into his touch. Falling into him because he was everything and all you needed.
-
Somehow, he brought you to his apartment. Kicking the door closed.
He lifted you onto the counter, not letting you breathe—not letting you think, but fighting a sweet war with your lips. You were spinning. Losing yourself every passing second—seconds which passed so slowly as the moment consumed you.
His hands which rested on the sides of your hips, crawled beneath the hem of your shirt. Delicately they explored your skin, rising to the curves of your chest. Caressing your breast, he deepened the kiss, tongue pushing past yours, tangling together.
“Jungkook” You whimpered. His mouth slanting down your jaw, to your neck. Where he tasted your sweet skin and you arched into him. His fingers drawing across your nipples with intention, causing fire to pulse through you.
You could feel him pressed against you, hips locked. Rocking ever so slightly.
Your phone began to vibrate. Jungkook hissed in irritation, backing away as you answered the call.
“Y/n”
Your blood ran cold.
That voice.
“Run”
You could see Jungkook’s eyes narrow at you. The line went dead. You were too stunned to speak.
“Who was it?” Jungkook inquired, looking at your phone. Gulping, you shook your head.
“I-um—just remembered that I need to take care of something”
His fingers hovered over your waist. “Okay, I can drive you” You stiffened as he kissed your neck again. “Or we could go after 20 minutes” His voice was husky.
Run.
Jungkook’s lips dipped to your chest, pushing the hem of your t-shirt up. Leaving pronounced kisses on every inch of skin he could find.
Run. Run. Run. Run.
You squinted behind him. There was an old family photograph hanging on the wall.
Two young boys. A father.
Their suits. Well-tailored. Designer.
Your breath hitched, Jungkook’s fingers slid across your slit.
“I love you baby” He mumbled as his lips returned to yours. “So fucking much, I almost hate you for it”
Two boys. A father.
Two.
“You’re an only child, right?”
Jungkook’s actions halted.
“Yeah,” He wiped his lips, “My mom died when I was young.”
“Any, other relatives…?” You slid off the counter carefully, pieces in your mind beginning to fit together.
Jungkook’s face hardened. Jaw stiff.
“Did Jimin say some bullshit to you?”
Oh God. Jimin had been hinting at some connection between Jin and Jungkook all along. You thought it had been a joke. A way to toy with Jungkook’s head.
That day. After you fucked Jungkook for the first time. Jin saw him. Jin knew him.
What if Jimin had been right? What if he had been the only one who was truly looking out for you all along?
“Did you kill Jimin?” The question had no sound. The air was still. The two of you, frozen in time.
“Come on, Y/n.” Jungkook sighed, “Jimin got what he deserved, but no I did not. He hurt you. He’s insane”
You flinched when he reached for your wrist.
He knew you figured it out.
You stepped outside the apartment. Running down the steps until you were back on the street. Outside Yoongi stood, leaning against the stone wall across the street as though he were expecting you.
“You knew” Was all you said.
Yoongi sighed, “I knew about Jungkook, but I needed to make sure if my hunch about Jin was true.”
You laughed bitterly. “That’s why my mother hated Jin. Because,” You couldn’t even say it. It made you want to vomit.
“Jin is a Jeon”
You blinked back tears. “But, why would he kill his own father?”
“Unless, he didn’t”
“Oh my God. You think…” You exhaled, feeling weak again. Yoongi held you upright. “Taehyung?”
He shrugged lightly, “It’s possible. More believable that a mother sends away the son who killed her lover than a son who simply witnessed something”
You were silent.
“You need to be careful” He made his voice as soft and kind as he possibly could. “I know about Hobi, but I’m honestly more suspicious of Jungkook.”
You nodded. The sun seemed to peak out from the horizon. A new day. A new betrayal.
Then the sound of the voice on the phone hit you. Run. So familiar. Like a ghost.
“Yoongi?”
“Yeah love?”
“Did you call my phone earlier?”
He shook his head. “No…why?”
“You’re back early” Taehyung answered the door, “Figured you’d spend the whole night with the Detective” His bland tone seemed to have been revived. You were too bewildered to care. You pushed past him, Yoongi following behind. Taehyung greeted him nicely. “Hyung”
You slumped into the couch immediately. Hand on your forehead as if it would ease the pounding.
Yoongi watched you, concerned. Taehyung looked to him for an explanation.
“So listen,” Yoongi cleared his throat. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but we still need to stay focused on pushing Hoseok out. The shareholders will be at the casino this evening for the anniversary gala”
“Yoongi” You laughed bitterly, “I don’t want to—”
“Y/n,” He responded, adamant, “This is what it’s like. You can’t hide just because shit’s hard. You’re not Jin’s princess anymore, you have responsibilities if you want back what’s yours. Taehyung isn’t ready to handle society on his own. He needs you”
A tear rolled down your cheek.
“Get some sleep” Yoongi rested his hand on your shoulder, caressing it gently. “It’s 7 AM, you’ve got plenty of time to get yourself together” His gaze diverted to Taehyung. “Black tie formal. I’ll send a suit for you. Make sure this one starts getting dressed at least 3 hours before we leave—she takes forever”
You let out a sad laugh, knowing Yoongi was trying to cheer you up but failing epically when all you had was a broken heart and impending doom.
Yoongi left, but Taehyung remained standing in front of you. A safe distance away, he simply observed you.
“You can sit you know” You grumbled.
He didn’t react. Didn’t move an inch.
“What’s wrong?” He inquired after a moment.
“Nothing,” You chuckled, “Just another missed opportunity for you to be the cause of my misery.”
“Was it,” Taehyung took a deep breath. Pausing, considering his next words carefully, “Was it him? Did the Detective hurt you?”
His eyes seemed to flash with something you couldn’t quite read.
“No” You stood up finally, “No the Detective is just another lying, manipulative asshole like the rest of you”
You walked past him, heading towards the foyer.
“I thought you loved him”
You whirled around. How he had managed to pick that up, you had no idea.
“I’ve decided I’m done with love” You stated confidently, “I end up falling for liars anyway”
You proceeded to storm up the stairs.
You were woken up by the sound of soft footsteps. Squinting, the evening sun blaring into your room, you noticed Taehyung pacing nervously outside of your room.
He was dressed.
Yoongi must have come by with the suit. It fit him perfectly. His dark hair was styled, tousled but neater than usual. His shoulders were prominent. The tailoring was perfect for his lean figure, and long legs. A gold watch on his wrist. It looked natural. He wore it so well.
Just like his brother.
Run.
“You’re awake” Finally, Taehyung stepped inside your room.
“Get dressed” He motioned towards a dry-cleaning bag that lay on your desk.
“Taehyung,” You sat upright, wiping the drool from your lips, “You look very handsome”
He blinked at you. Then walked away.
If you had any lingering doubt in your mind that the man by your side was in fact, Kim Taehyung—they were utterly dismissed. His Kim colors were shining. Despite his typical cold nature to you, Taehyung was the embodiment of charm.
Stepping into the casino, he had been initially overwhelmed by the stimulus: the lights, the slot machining whirring with bright colors, the crowd. You could feel him visibly tense even though he remained an appropriate distance away from you at all times. Close enough that folks knew you’d come together. Far enough to show you that he hadn’t forgotten about what happened.
The first few people who’d approached you had been friends of his mothers. You knew everyone well, everyone knew you. Taehyung would be quiet, shy at first, but it was that very aspect of his personality that made him alluring. He knew exactly what to say. His observant nature allowed him to navigate the different dynamics, pick up on cues expertly.
The elders respected his aura. The young were entranced by his mystery.
Every person he talked to was ready to trust him with their life. And if that wasn’t a Kim trait, you weren’t sure what was.
The only hiccups would arise when folks would bring up the past.
“Aren’t you two getting engaged?” Mr. Lee, one of Kim Enterprises’ stakeholders, asked politely, “So tragic what happened to dear Seokjin. But have you rescheduled?”
With speedy hesitation, Taehyung slid a hand onto the small of your back, looking into your eyes. There was a genuine passing of emotion, ever so subtle. He spoke, to Mr. Lee, but really—to you.
“In time” He smiled slightly. Looking back to Mr. Lee, “We are still mourning, in our own way”
“I’m sure Jin would be so proud of you”
You felt Taehyung tense at the implication. He maintained his composure, nevertheless, but you could see the turmoil stirring within him. Mr. Lee excused himself, and you turned to Taehyung, searching his eyes.
The mere mention of Jin had been pushing him closer and closer to the edge all night.
“Tae” You sighed, caressing his arm. “Want to take a break?”
“Please” His response was curt, but you could see his other hand balled up in a fist. Jin’s name had such a radial effect on him—one that reminded you that despite his ability to play the social field, he was dangerous.
Taehyung followed you to the backrooms where a younger crowd was immersed in pool, poker, and other debauchery.
“They loved you”
Taehyung merely shrugged. “Play the man, not the game” His eyes ghosted over you, “You taught me that”
You snorted lightly, as you found a quieter spot away from the buzz, Taehyung leaned against a wall, looking at ease.
“Taehyung, do remember how to play pool?” You asked suddenly as the billiard table came into your vision.
Taehyung thought for a moment. “Not really. But I’ll learn”
“Winner makes a wish, loser fulfills it” You challenged him. You really couldn’t help yourself. Being in the casino made you crave risk. But Taehyung wasn’t ready for high stakes, you knew that.
“Fine”
You start off expertly. Taehyung handed you the pool cue, the smooth wood cool against your fingertips.
"Alright, let me show you the basics," you said, positioning yourself near the table with a practiced ease.
He watched intently, his eyes following the calculated movements of your hands as you lined up a shot.
You demonstrated the proper stance, the controlled grip, and the delicate finesse required to send a ball into the pocket. With each shot, you explained the strategy, the physics of the angles, and the importance of precision.
You hit the shot expertly. With a smirk, you put down the pool cue and motioned for Taehyung to take your place.
"Your turn, Tae."
He eyed you skeptically but took the cue, positioning himself for the shot. You stepped behind him, your hand gently guiding his.
You’d never been so close to him. Not since the day you reunited, and he hugged you. And asked: are you scared of me, Princess?
Ever since then, there were oceans between you that you could only dream of crossing. He smelled good, you couldn’t help breathing in his fresh aura. The dimly lit room seemed to fade away just for a moment, and you wondered if he was effected like you were.
"Now, focus," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, though you maintained a level of indifference in your tone.
Taehyung's breath hitched imperceptibly, but he composed himself, focusing on the game. With your guidance, he took the shot, sinking the ball into the pocket expertly.
"Perfect," you praised, the ghost of a smile on your lips. "See, you’re a natural yet again. A true Kim”
Taehyung turned to face you, his gaze intense. "Anything I am is because of you”
You stiffened. His words were both a compliment and an accusation. God, seeing this side of him made him even more terrifying, because you didn’t trust yourself not to buy into the fact that he was some pure, innocent version of his older brother. He wasn’t. Kim Taehyung was unhinged. Any second he could snap, and you were on eggshells.
“Your turn” He handed back the cue. A few shots later, the two of you were neck and neck. The ocean between you two drying up slowly with every exchange of banter.
“Done with love, huh?”
You circled him as he lined up his next shot.
“What exactly did the Detective do to make you say something like that?”
You pursed your lips. “Why, gonna go beat him up?”
With a flick of his shoulder, the ball went in. Taehyung stood straight. “Maybe. What’d he do?”
He leaned against the table, handing you the cue as you positioned yourself. “He lied. He betrayed me. And I’m tired of loving liars”
“Didn’t you also lie to him?” He challenged. You shot him a glare. “Why haven’t you told him everything?”
You hit your mark. You missed. Taehyung’s blatant honesty was always unnerving. He wasn’t one to play games. “It’s complicated. I didn’t trust him. I still don’t trust him”
“And you expected him to trust you” Taehyung shrugged blandly. He stole the cue from your hand and before you could blink, he snapped the final shot. “Seems fair”
Taehyung’s last ball went in.
He beat you.
“Well” Taehyung huffed, trying to hide his gleaming pleasure. You almost wanted to roll your eyes. “I suppose that’s that” He looked at you expectantly.
“Okay Kim Taehyung, what wish can I grant you?” Cue in hand, you pretended to curtsy. Taehyung grabbed the end of the stick, using it to tug you towards him.
The space between you vanished. Only the cue between you, until Taehyung pulled it from your grip and set it aside.
There was something unrecognizable in his eyes. He licked his lips unconsciously.
“Well?” You looked up at him, suddenly aware of his height.
His fingers held your chin, tilting your face upward. Except his touch wasn’t harsh. Wasn’t painful.
Taehyung inhaled.
Your eyes widened as he closed his mouth over yours. His eyes shut—kissing you with a depraved delicateness. As if he was drinking your soul like he was the devil himself.
A touch so tender, and yet it seemed to steal away every last bit of purity within you, leaving behind a raging storm. Activating something so sinful—so wicked. All due to the decadent taste of his delicate lips.
He pushed your mouth open, deepening the kiss. And you—you were lost. Still utterly shocked that—Kim Taehyung was kissing you. The Kim Taehyung that wanted you dead. The Kim Taehyung who blamed you for everything—was actually kissing you.
It wasn’t like you’d never thought about it. The two of you no longer had to get engaged, but you lived with the man. And he was gorgeous. His quiet, mesmerizing charm. Enigmatic, smoldering and yet so calm. Who knew beneath that cold demeanor there was a tsunami waiting to be unleashed?
He didn’t give you an opportunity to question him. His lips felt too good on yours for you to care. The casino around you seemed to vortex—everything spinning: the colorful lights—until you were airborne.
Floating. Dizzy. Afraid to fall but so fucking glad you were in the sky.
His mouth coaxed out your fierceness until you began to feel impatient. You placed your hand on his pounding chest, a light push until he sat down on the bench. You slid into his lap, no longer thinking—no longer caring that you were in public. That there was a room full of people in the casino who could be staring. Taking pictures. Gossiping.
They were all dead for all you cared.
You gasped audibly, a soft moan as he pulled you impossibly closer. You were losing your breath. On the verge of fainting—overwhelmed with sensations. Everything was heightened—everything felt alive.
His hand was behind your neck, the other one on the small of your back. Both yours in his wavy black—cloud like hair.
He pulled away, finally—barely. Catching his breath. His chest rising as fast as yours, offset by his erratic heartbeat. He was nervous.
Was that his first kiss?
He swallowed, uncomfortably on edge. His eyes were dark with desire. An angry kind of lust.
You searched your mind for words. Something to tell him that he did so good. That you loved it—and you wanted more. He was searching your gaze for something, but you were speechless.
So you kissed him again. Because how the hell else are you supposed to communicate.
“Taehyung” Your hands moved to cup his cheeks. You shifted, letting your body roll against his. Grinding against him slow and sensual, letting your movements mimic those of your lips. He was hard—painstakingly so. And he felt so good tucked between your legs. Throbbing for you. Both his hands lowered to your hips, then back up your back as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you—or maybe he couldn’t believe you were real.
His hold was strong—not rough. Touch intentional but not desperate. He took his time with you as if he had all the time in the world, but was still somehow starved. Drinking from you was his only salvation. You—you were his salvation. And he was your ruin.
He pushed you away, suddenly. You blinked, dizzy from the loss of touch. Sensitive and damp, heart throbbing fast. He didn’t meet your gaze.
“Fuck”
You could see the judgmental stares all around. Rolling your jaw you smirked at the crowd.
“We own this place. I’d mind your business”
The chatter dissipated. You redirected your attention back onto Taehyung.
“Taehyung?” Your voice was soft. “You okay?”
You noticed how tightly he was gripping the table. His head down, looking anywhere but up at you. Eyes wide, spiraling in thought.
“I—” He exhaled, closing his eyes again.
Was he--?
You couldn’t help yourself. You knew he’d despise you for it—but Kim Taehyung already despised you. You weren’t going to pass up a chance to feel him cum.
You shifted his chair so he was facing away from prying eyes. Carefully you snuck under the pool table, clawing at his pants.
His fingers pulled your hand away. A warning glare.
You yanked your hand away, unzipping his pants and letting his pretty cock spring free.
You clicked your tongue. Poor thing was ready to burst.
Licking your lips, you let your tongue glide from his base all the way up his length where you left a soft, sweet kiss on his tip. You slid his tip into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked.
Flattening your tongue, you let his cock rest there. Like a dog, you waited for him to cum all over you.
Then you looked up at him.
His eyes locked onto yours—and they were wild.
He hissed, shooting into your mouth. You drank up everything he had to give—and it was quite a bit. He bucked over, knuckles turning white. The bite into his lip released blood with how hard he was trying to stay quiet. You let him push his cock into the hollow of your cheek and spurts continued to flow out of him. You rested your hand on his knee, and his hand covered yours. Holding it tenderly—as if he were thanking you.
You cleaned him up quickly, before returning to your seat, adjusting your dress inconspicuously.
You grinned at him, but he was not amused at all. Still panting.
“Was that your wish?” You beamed at him. He chuckled softly.
“I just wanted to know what it felt like”
It was an innocent intention. Almost heartwarming.
“And, what do you think?” You leaned into him, “Did I rock your world, Kim Taehyung?”
“You are my world. There was never a doubt”
His eyes glossed over. You wanted to melt in his gaze. Unravel. Instead, you were plunged into cold water.
“Fancy seeing you two here”
The hairs on your body straightened. Chills seeping over you at the familiar voice, laced with betrayal.
“Jung Hoseok” He extended a hand to Taehyung, “Pleasure’s all mine baby boy” Taehyung skeptically shook it.
-
Hobi was extremely amused at what he had walked in on. Of course, a whore like you would take a matter of days to wrap the young Kim boy around your finger.
“Nice job leashing the puppy” He muttered, cigarette at the edge of his lips. The smoke wisping past your unamused expression.
“I should kill you” Hobi grinned at your response.
“No need,” He tapped the cigarette ash on the edge of the ash tray. He had brough you to his private booth. Leaving Taehyung for the wolves.
“What do you want, Hobi? I don’t want to leave Taehyung alone too long”
“Why?” He leaned closer to you. His hand resting on your bare thigh. Your dress was so fucking slutty, he loved it. He always loved the way you’d dress to gamble. As if your body gave you an edge—it did. He knew you crumbled rich playboy’s resolve with one bat of your pretty eyes. “Are you so desperate for dick you’d take your lover’s little brother’s virginity?”
You rolled your eyes. “I asked you a fucking question,”
“A birdy told me that you found out about Jin’s daddy”
You squinted at him. “What about it?”
“Don’t you want to know the whole story?” Hobi’s fingers hooked under the straps of your dress, playing with them. “Of the infamous Jeon family? And your mother—the woman who tore down a legacy”
His hand slid between your legs.
“Long long ago, the entire arms distribution business lay in the hands of one famous Korean gangster. Jeon Junghyun.”
He brushed against your clit. Gentle circles while he gazed into your eyes. A wicked grin. Like he could kiss you or stab you in the back.
You latched onto his arm as he lured you towards an orgasm. His face burying against your neck, breathing you in as he continued to touch you. Nothing except your soft whimpers in the air.
The heat from his body infected your every nerve. His breath scalding over your cheek.
“Then there was this clever little bitch” You inhaled sharply, edging forward towards your high. He could tell—because he pressed a little harder.
“Who manipulated her way to the top. Gained favor of everyone under him and took him out with a stab to the back” His hands roamed your body, sliding up your dress. He pushed the fabric up until it bunched up above your breasts which he grabbed at eagerly.
Thumbs rolling over your nipples, he continued “She took everything from him, leaving him and his two sons to rot. But she wasn’t cruel. She let him stay as her right-hand”
Hobi left a soft kiss against your left breast. Then another. And another. His thumb back onto your clit, he licked and suckled you. You gasped—looking at him with big, pleading eyes. Curving into his touch.
“She grew the business. An arms distribution pipeline can be used for a lot of things. She went legit. Bought out other companies with the blood money. Began distributing just about everything.”
He licked your lips. The sensation like that of slowly sinking into absolute, soft bliss. Licking down your jaw, fluttering desperate hisses across your neck.
Then, he slipped one finger in—your face heating at the sound. You clenched around the protrusion and he reached deep inside. Working you slowly, carefully—before adding in another.
His kisses trailed back up to your mouth. His breaths were heavy, swallowing your moans. It was hauntingly intimate.
“Hobi” You pleaded, gripping onto him as you shook. Orgasm sweeping over you like an earthquake. Tremors from your heart to every finger and toe in your body. He was so wildly aroused that he couldn’t look away. His fingers were steady nevertheless, pumping you through it. “Fuck, Hobi please”
“Jeon Jungkook wants you dead sweetheart” The pain from his words pushed you over the edge. You soaked over his fingers, twitching wildly. “And so did his hyung. Kim Seokjin.”
-
The brisk night air bit at your skin as you seized Taehyung's wrist, pulling him outside. People were chattering, smoking cigars, the lights from the casinos madness still polluting the air. Limousines, sleek and imposing, formed a line ready to usher the remaining guests to their destinations.
Waving down a driver, you led Taehyung inside one. The plush leather seats cool against your exposed legs. The interior lit so you could see him in front of you, clear as day.
The light shut. Instead there were light sparkles on the ceiling of the limo as it began to move. The champagne swirled in your mind as you leaned back, looking out the window. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Like a rush, you wanted to lose yourself.
Your eyes shut for a moment. Remembering the way the light danced on your fac when you were with Jungkook that night at the club. Yearning for his touch, the look in his eyes when he told you how he felt.
You swallowed thickly, heart in too much pain to go down that road. You looked at Taehyung next to you, instinctively reaching out to touch his face. Gently, you took hold of his chin, coaxing his gaze to meet yours.
Your thumb traced over his cheek. Fingers dancing over his soft, delicate skin. His eyes fluttered close as you did. Teasing the edge of his lips ever so lightly. He really was a beautiful man. His lips looked soft. Devastating, with the way his shaken breath made them tremble.
He leaned into your touch, your fingers sliding up over his ear, pushing his hair out of his face. It felt like you were getting kicked in the chest repeatedly. Every part of you feeling numb but simultaneously sensitive to even the slightest movement of air.
He exhaled. The flow of his breath wavering. Or was it a moan, you weren’t sure.
You were about to pull your hand away, until Taehyung’s over fingers gripped your wrist. He stared at you, pupils wide. It was these moments where you felt like you could see him. His soft, vulnerable side, behind those concrete walls.
To your surprise, he brought your hand up to his face, kissing the inside of your wrist.
His lips softly melted into the sensitive area. Your breath hitched.
It was furiously intimate.
Holding your hand still, his eyes blinked back up at you. Almost as though he were asking permission.
Your throat was dry. The alcohol loosening the knots on your sense of logic.
His eyes traced over you, dipping down your entire body. The way he sat, leaning so his knees almost touched yours. The leather suddenly felt so hot against your skin. Under his flaming stare.
He inhaled, steady, before leaning into you. Tracing his nose behind your ear. You shivered. His touch making you dizzy. Needy. Quivering.
“You looked beautiful tonight”
They were plain words.
When he said them, they meant the world. Something bloomed inside you. You were spinning and breathless, mouth parting in shock. His lips barely grazing under your jaw.
He backed away, putting distance between you yet again.
-
Namjoon stood in the foyer, waiting for you to come home. The moment the door swung open, you darted into his embrace. It felt like a familiar haven, and he effortlessly hoisted you up, cradling you in a desperate hug, afraid you might vanish if he let go.
"I missed you," Namjoon murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek before reluctantly releasing you. His gaze then shifted to Taehyung, pride in his voice. "You too. You look great, Taehyung. I heard you went to the casino."
Taehyung's response was measured. "Are you out on bail?"
"No," Namjoon replied with a hint of bitterness, "Yoongi blackmailed Jungkook into letting me go."
Your heart tightened at his name.
"Where is he? I want to see him”
“Absolutely not” Namjoon was firm. “We don’t know how dangerous he is. I have some of my guys looking into it with Yoongi. He sure as hell had been in contact with Jin in the weeks leading up to his murder”
Namjoon cupped your face. “But other than that, it’s over. He won’t contact you. You’re free. I don’t want you worrying about this anymore”
You wanted to laugh at the term. Free. Especially since Namjoon was already back to telling you what you could and couldn’t do.
“What about Nexus?”
Namjoon smiled, taking your hand in his. “Come with me,”
You followed him. Taehyung a few paces behind. Namjoon brought you into the garden. There were a million fireflies. Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced at Taehyung, wondering if he remembered your tender moment in this same spot.
Namjoon lowered onto one knee.
Fuck. It was one of those moments where everything was so still. So quiet yet extremely loud in your chest. He smiled. Eyes meeting yours. Brimming.
“Marry me”
Your mouth was dry. The moisture building in your eyes instead. It hurt, deep inside because your mind took you to a certain tattooed, mean and yet tender man who you had left behind.
“Let me give you everything, Y/n” Namjoon continued, “The papers. The stocks. The business. You deserve it all and I will give it to you. I’ve done you wrong, and I know you aren’t where I am. I know you loved someone else”
His proposal hung in the luminous space. His words echoed in your ears. His gaze held both sincerity and vulnerability. He waited for your response, standing up so his fingers could brush against the side of your face. The fireflies flickered like stars behind him.
“I hope someday, it can be more than an arrangement. Someday you might love me the way I love you. But for now, I wanted you to have the option. I will give you everything, I promise”
Tears blurred your vision, and you took a steadying breath. "Namjoon," you whispered, your voice fragile yet resolute. Suddenly, with the prize standing in front of you, waiting for your claim, you realized how serious your answer was. If you married Namjoon, you were signing a deal with the devil. There would be no going back.
"I need time."
His eyes reflected understanding, and he stood, pulling you into a tender embrace. "Take all the time you need," he murmured against your hair.
You could still feel Taehyung watching the scene unfold. His expression unreadable, he retreated into the shadows.
Namjoon walked you to your bedroom, and you kissed him goodnight. He urged you not to stress. To take all the time and he’d be there, waiting when you were ready. No rush. This is what you’d wanted.
So why was it so hard to say yes?
Jungkook’s face engraved into your mind. Your gut flipping. You needed to find him. Needed to talk to him without Namjoon finding out. Your phone began to buzz. Hope coursed through you. Maybe it was him.
You answered quickly, excited.
“Don’t marry him”
There was no way.
“You’re mine”
series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks
a/n: its been a fucking MINUTE. idek how to do thia anymore, please enjoy and let me know what you think !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TAEHYUNG omfg come scream with me pls thanks
and thank you for reading you hawtie <3
#bts smut#taehyung smut#taehyung#jungkook smut#jungkook#yandere bts#taehyung fic#mafia au#bts mafia au#yandere taehyung#yandere jungkook#jungkook x reader smut#taehyung x reader smut#jungkook x reader#taehyung x reader#bts x reader#bts series#bts fic#taehyung fanfic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook angst#bts taehyung smut#bts jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#kim taehyung smut#kim taehyung fic#jeon jungkook fic#hoseok x reader smut#seokjin fic#taehyung fic recs
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Fool's Gold || JJK
Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.
Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader
Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au
Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses
Parts Index:
Part 1 | 10k
Part 2 | 10.2k
Part 3 | 15.5k
Part 4 | coming soon…
#jungkook mafia au#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#jungkook fic#bts au fic#bts au#jimin#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook bts#mafia leader jungkook#bts fic#jungkook x y/n#bts series#jungkook series#jin#yoongi#namjoon#hoseok#taehyung#jungkook#seokjin#suga#rm#jhope#v#jungkook ff
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cry me a river | the habits
— summary: you are a weapon and weapons do not weep
— pairing: bts x reader
— genre: angst, mafia!au
— word count: 6.4k
— warnings: physical abuse, violence, mentally unstable mindset
— PART 25 / previous post / masterpost
One.
Two.
Three.
The seconds will pass. The minutes will fly. The hours will go.
You’re alright.
Endure it. Endure it.
It will pass.
Everything will pass just as everything has always passed.
In time, father will raise his hand to indicate them to stop. A stop signal. He may leave the room out of boredom but he will return just as he always does in order to demand them to leave you alone. He will never be satisfied but there is always a limit to everything and father sometimes gets too bored to keep seeing it, to keep hearing it, so he’s always there to stop it.
Eventually.
Eventually.
You just have to endure it for now until the signal comes, until—
“What are you doing?!”
You didn’t realize it and perhaps that’s because you blacked out, your mind keeping you from feeling it all completely, trying to protect you, but you’re sitting on the ground when a call demands out an answer in a loud, commanding voice, and a rushing of a pair of feet running over to push Karl off you.
Asher punches Karl right in the face, throwing him off you, before demanding the guards he has with him to hold the man back.
“She provoked me!” Karl argues like a child in a kid’s play.
He’s never been abruptly stopped before. Always angry, never satisfied.
Nothing is ever enough when it comes to the two of them.
Karl landing hurt through his fists and weapons and anything he can get a hand on. Your father landing hurt through his commands, watching and watching and watching.
And you, their victim, who has to stay down and accept it all until there is a small amount of satisfaction that calls at them to stop.
You always wait on that call, no matter how much endurance it takes.
“That doesn’t make it right to lay your hand on a woman!” Asher retorts with anger laced in his tone, and this anger, despite how different it is from that of Karl’s, still shakes you violently though you keep as still as ever, paralyzed.
Paralyzed.
Even when the anger does not fall on you, even when he does not turn to you but towards the companion who stands behind you, who had stood still this whole time. “And what are you doing? Your boss was getting hit and you just stood there?”
Yeonjun, with a snap on cue, kneels over to your side and looks down at you with widened eyes and a frozen expression. He doesn’t touch you right away, cautious, but you see what those eyes mean, you know exactly what that expression is telling you.
That he, too, had reverted back to the past.
When your father still lived, when he had to stand by and watch everything without moving a muscle.
He reverted back just as you had.
Two little kids, who're still affected by the traumas of the past.
Two little kids.
You take Yeonjun’s hand, giving him the permission to touch you, so he helps you back onto your feet and the two of you remain in silence as you walk off with his help, not daring to look Karl in the eyes, not caring to reply to Asher.
But you feel yourself trembling with the presence of a pair of eyes boring right into your back. Not from Asher or Karl or the two guards but from someone else.
The ghost of him.
Of that man.
That man named father.
.
.
.
“Y/N?” There’s concern in Jungkook’s voice when you walk into the room and you guess that’s probably because of the state you’re in, but right now you can’t entertain him so you simply hold a hand up, asking him to stay back, and Jungkook, though worried, leaves the room on your behalf.
When you’re left alone with Yeonjun, you let your legs give in to sit on the floor rather than finding a chair or taking a seat on the bed.
The floor is comfortable. It’s always been more comfortable.
The boy takes your heels off, along with your jacket, and despite the sting of the pain that aches over your body, the only thing on your mind is the fact that you let it happen so easily, that you allowed yourself to walk back into that state of being an obedient and perfect little doll.
You reverted back to the damages just when you thought after father’s death, you wouldn’t let anyone walk over you anymore.
But it isn’t easy.
It isn’t easy.
And it will never be easy.
Father still lives in your head rent free and there’s nothing you can do about it. No matter how much time has passed, nothing will change. It’s already been a little over a year since his death but he’s still here, still thriving, mocking you, taunting you, controlling everything that you are.
You’re shaking, trembling, not just out of fear but out of anger. Angry at yourself. For being so weak, for reverting back, for thinking things could get better.
And with Yeonjun the only one here with you at the moment, you lean into his touch and let yourself into his arms to allow the sort of warmth only your Reapers can provide you.
Yeonjun’s heartbeat won’t be the same as Mingyu’s, it’s probably even beating rapidly right now, so you don’t let your ear rest against his chest and instead wrap your arms over his neck and climb into his lap to lay your cheek against his shoulder.
Yeonjun brings his hand over to rub down your back but he’s a little awkward and unsure because he’s never really had to do this; comforting you. It’s always been Mingyu, and if Mingyu wasn’t there, it’d be Yuna, and if Yuna couldn’t do it, it’d be Dasom, or someone else.
Anyone else.
He’s only a kid after all, just eighteen years old, the youngest of your Reapers, but because no one else is here, he does his best to pick up the role that’s been given unto him.
Yet you feel him tremble slightly himself and you guess that in some way, he must be afraid as well.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers to you. “I didn’t…I…”
You know what he’s trying to say, that he failed you, that he couldn’t protect you. But can you really blame him? Because just as you’ve been trained to endure through the pains and take everything that’s given unto you, Yeonjun, the Reapers, were trained to stand by and watch.
Habits are scary.
Frightening.
And because you don’t know how to console him and he doesn’t know how to console you, the two of you remain in silence simply holding onto one another.
Just two little kids having to rely on each other.
Just two little kids.
And after a little while, when things have settled a little more, when he starts shaking a little less, Yeonjun gathers himself and forces himself out of the state he’s in.
He stands up and you watch him leave for a second, not too long, because he rushes, and returns with materials in hand to begin tending to you. It remains as quiet as ever between the two of you, but you see the way his brows furrow in concentration and he stops himself from staying in the mindset of a teenager.
Of a child.
He becomes an adult, a reliable adult. For you. Applying what’s needed on the bruises that have swelled up, wrapping your arm with bandages, and when you frown with disgust at the sight of the white wrapping on you, wanting it off, complaining, he doesn’t fall into your trap and stands his ground just as he’s seen Mingyu do plenty of times.
Yeonjun gets frightened of you at times but he always listens to your every command and does all that you ask him within a heartbeat, but today he grows a pair of wings and knocks you lightly on the head with his knuckles when you try to push him away, when you get stubborn with him.
“Do you want to die?” You glare at him but he doesn’t give in.
“You can kill me after I treat you,” he says and continues his ministrations.
“I hate it,” you tell him. “I don’t like it, this…this white.” You try to scratch at yourself but he grabs your hand before you can and your face scrunches up with anguish. “Get it off me.”
You tug the pearls on your neck and it scatters onto the floor but you don’t care and move on to the white dress, yet Yeonjun stops you once more.
“You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I’m not weak.”
“I never said you were.” And because he knows the signs, because he’s seen it plenty of times in you, he grabs the sleeve, rips it, then the hem of the dress, and tears that as well without doing too much. “See? Look. Imperfect.” You hate perfect things and seeing that, the tears of the dress, alleviate a bit of your drumming heartbeat, so Yeonjun grabs a pair of scissors to start cutting off bits of your dress.
All your life you’ve been told to be perfect, that everything you do must be under the command of your father. He made you into his perfect little doll, his perfect little weapon, prepared you for the battlefield, prepared you for war.
For the war that he brought, for the war that was his.
Or rather, he was the war itself.
You are a weapon, and weapons do not weep. Weapons are used and weapons do not run off on their own. Weapons are perfect, they fire at the command of their owner, they’re silent when told, and left to waste if they do not do their job.
You’ve never wanted to be left to waste, you’ve never wanted to be dropped back into an empty room, the White Room, and never picked up again.
“I look broken,” you utter a whisper as if shocked at the image of yourself when you look down at the mess of your dress and the white bandages on your body. Your brows are knitted, teeth grinding on each other, fingers dug into the skin of your palm, eyes red but as always, they refuse to cry.
Because weapons do not weep.
And Yeonjun, for a second, almost panics, thinking he did something wrong, but in Mingyu’s wise words, “Just because it looks like I know what I’m doing when it comes to boss does not mean that is the truth. It is far from the truth. There are times when it feels like I’ve messed up, times when I’m about to panic because she responds differently from what I imagined, but you cannot ever show her that you do not know what you’re doing. Ever. Just pretend when you’re in that position, and if you’re good at pretending, she won’t know a thing,” Yeonjun quickly pulls himself back up.
“You don’t look broken,” he puts the scissors down and takes your two trembling fists. “You look imperfect.”
You look imperfect.
Imperfect.
It does the trick.
He sees the way the crease between your brows starts to soften, how your clenched jaw loosens, the way you let him help your fingers unravel from the strength they held digging into yourself, and how your shoulders fall a bit from being so hunched up.
“I look imperfect?” You ask him, eyes wide and puppy-like, darting right to him and though they shake slightly, they look towards him for an answer, for reassurance, to detect any lie, to seek for the truth. But also pleading, also begging for him to say just that.
Even if the lie must disguise itself as the truth.
“You do,” so Yeonjun lies skillfully. “You look imperfect, boss.”
There’s a breath of relief, quiet and subtle, and it comes in a whisper just barely there. Yeonjun keeps you close and presses a palm to your chest, just where your heartbeat strums.
“Now count,” he tells you. “Mingyu says counting is good, right? Count until he gets here.”
“Is he coming?” You ask when he takes both your hands to take over where his palm once lay.
“Yes,” he lies again. He hasn’t made the call yet. “Soon.”
“You have to stay here.”
“I will.”
“No one can come in.”
“I know.”
“Don’t talk to him, don’t let Karl anywhere near me.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“I’m tired.”
“Alright, come here.” He pulls you in carefully into his lap, in his arms, and you let yourself be warmed and comforted in his arms once more, this time with your back pressed to his chest.
“I don’t want to sleep,” you tell him. “The nightmares…they’ll come. He’ll come. He’ll visit. And he’ll try to make me perfect all over again.”
He. Your father.
“I don’t want to be perfect.” It isn’t a command, it’s a plea. A desperate cry for help.
“Then don’t sleep. But count the heartbeats, yeah? Count.” The soft lure of his voice, gentle, encouraging.
With hands still pressed against your chest, you let your ear tune out everything else in order to hear the beat of your heart so that you can start counting them.
One. Two. Three…
It’s fast and you know that you can’t completely count every individual one of them but you try your best to simply concentrate on only that while your eyes stare out at the window a few feet away. The sun shines brightly from the opened curtains and there’s a small little bird perched on the closest tree.
It jumps onto a branch and rests there with its head moving about in different directions.
There are pretty white clouds up above and one of the bigger ones shapes like a castle and you imagine fairies up there, hiding.
There’s another cloud that looks like a cat and another one shaped like a ghost.
The wind blows and your eyes turn back to the bird that flies off.
Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five…
It’s slowing down, just slightly.
.
.
.
“I heard what happened this afternoon.”
Kiwi keeps you distracted as he nibbles with your finger. You can’t recall when he’s decided to hang around you rather than his own master whenever you’re around but at least it gives you a reason to not look someone in the eyes.
“Would you like to tell me what happened from your perspective?”
Thirty-something years old. You can’t even remember just how old you are but lately, it hasn’t mattered in the slightest because you feel much younger than what you actually are. Like you’re twenty-something. Even a teen. It doesn’t feel like you’ve aged much.
Your birthday hasn’t been celebrated since your time at the Bangtan manor but it doesn’t really matter. Nothing really matters.
Because you feel like a kid back under the control of your father, having to do what you’re told, obeying his every command like someone who can’t do anything on her own.
Under scrutiny.
“What did Karl tell you?” You pop a question of your own, eyes still unfocused, mind still trying to pretend you’re fine, that you’re okay in a room full of strangers.
There’s only one stranger but a stranger nonetheless.
“He said you provoked him.”
“That’s right.” You don’t deny it and instead nod, expression blank so that Alexander cannot tell what’s going on inside your head. And maybe he does, maybe all of this faking is futile because he’s so wise, but you don’t care. You keep still, you keep vague, and you remain cold.
“Is that so…?” He trails off, perhaps thinking, and you can feel his eyes never leaving you. “And what was it that you did to have provoked him?”
“I told him something he didn’t like.”
“And what’s that?”
“That I killed his best friend.”
“And did you?”
“I did.”
“And who was that?”
“My father.”
He pauses, perhaps because he hadn’t expected that answer but you’re sure he’s thinking back on the moment when you first mentioned your father to him. The “story” you gave him was that your father passed away and was a good friend of Karl’s, though you never mentioned anything else about it.
And now here’s the answer; you killed him yourself.
“Is that why you let Karl do what he did?” He asks you. “Because you thought you deserved the punishment for what you did? Some people may not regret their actions but they’ll let the person most affected do something against them. Was that how it was?”
No.
No, not at all.
You didn’t let Karl hurt you because you knew he’d be hurt by what you did. You didn’t let him hurt you because you thought he at least deserved to lash his anger out on you. Or that you felt bad. Or that you wanted some sort of punishment. Or that you were repenting.
You let Karl hurt you because you’d always let him hurt you, just as you’d always let everyone hurt you.
Because that was how it always was.
A habit.
Being the weaker one, being the one who would chant the words endure, endure because that was what was instilled in you from the moment Mister Butler died. You cannot get out of your habits that easily, you do not just get stronger because you vow to yourself you will.
You don’t just get stronger and you certainly don’t just decide ‘I won’t let anyone step over me anymore’ and succeed on the first try.
Or the second try.
Or the third.
Even the tenth or hundredth time.
You let Karl hurt you because you were used to it and your body, remembering how it always was before your father died, returned to those habits.
The habits of staying still, the habits of enduring all that came at you.
“Yes.” But you lie because what else is there to say? You lie because there is nothing else to say. Because you don’t want to tell the truth. Because the truth means explaining and explaining means opening up and opening up means trusting and trusting never ends well.
You lie because you have to.
“That is all there is to it.” You put Kiwi down onto the floor and stand up straight, making sure to look in the old man’s direction with your hands held together in a formal stance. “Karl’s story is the whole truth. I deserved what he did, for killing his best friend, for killing my father.”
His brows are furrowed and you sense doubt in his eyes but because he has no proof and because you’re not willing to share anything else with him, he can’t push you too hard about the matter. “Whether that is the truth or not, do you really think a man much older and bigger has the right to hurt a woman younger and smaller in stature? No–” he fixes his sentence, “do you think a man is in his right to hurt a woman?”
“A man is capable of hurting anything that he wishes to hurt. He is in the power to do so.”
“You are strong, Y/N.” He stands to meet your eyes, serious, calm, and collected, but there’s a little twitch in his brows to indicate that he feels a bit frustrated by the situation. “You are capable of dodging his attacks. Even if a man were much bigger and stronger than you, you have the brains to outsmart them. You don’t look like someone who will easily let someone else step all over you.”
No. You are exactly just that. You are still the little girl you thought had changed. You’re still weak.
“So I’ll ask you again, Y/N; why did you let Karl hurt you?”
You hate feeling caged in and right now, despite the fact that only Alexander stands in this room, you feel eyes from all over. And maybe that’s just you being paranoid, maybe you’re just making it all up in your head, but you hate every bit of it.
Every bit of this.
“I gave you my answer, take it with a grain of salt. Do not pretend to be on my side.” And with that, you turn your back to him and walk off without another word.
Alexander doesn’t chase after you but you feel his eyes.
It’s ironic the way you’re supposed to be the one trying to gain his favor and yet this happens; you pushing him away and putting up your walls. And Asher makes sure to remind you of that.
“Isn’t the whole point of you being here to gain his favor?”
He stops you in the middle of the hall when you’re heading back to the guest room.
“Why?” He asks, genuinely curious, maybe even with a bit of genuine concern in that tone.
“Maybe I’m tired,” you say in a quiet voice.
“Of?”
“Of trying to be likable.”
He hums, considering the answer with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the wall. “And that young bodyguard of yours,” he brings up Yeonjun, “he may be a kid but don’t you think he deserves punishment for failing you?”
“No.” You reply easily and Asher raises a brow.
“You won’t punish him?”
“I don’t blame him.”
He watches you as if you were a strange being, like you weren’t making sense, though there’s a bit of unease that marks his features, some sort of disturbance that troubles his thoughts and you realize that you’ve said too much so you start walking again.
“My people aren’t allowed to act unless I tell them to.”
But Asher doesn’t want to leave it with just that. “You wanted my uncle to hurt you?”
“Nobody wants to get hurt willingly, Asher.”
“Then what is it?”
You’re talking too much.
“It is none of your concern, that’s what it is.” With that, you pick up your steps and walk into the room before he can push you any further.
Jungkook is in there when you walk in, and although being left in a room with just him should trigger some sort of response, surprisingly you don’t tremble that easily and perhaps that’s due to the fact that somehow, in some way, your body just knows that Jungkook doesn’t pose any threat to you. Perhaps because somehow, in some way, you’ve learned to put some trust in him in just the slightest way through the times he’s spent acting as your guard.
It’s been a little over a month.
Mingyu came here prior to your meeting with Alexander and surprisingly you didn’t need him as much as you thought you did. You think that’s because Yeonjun managed to calm you down well, despite his perpetual fear in the beginning. He picked himself up in time, after all, and was there for you by mirroring what Mingyu would have done.
Maybe in some ways, your right hand man has trained all the Reapers in how to respond to you when he isn’t around.
He took Yeonjun away for something, though right now you aren’t too concerned about it.
“..Kook.”
You feel tired, you feel drained, and that’s why you’ve managed to only call Jungkook by a shortened name.
He’s responsive at the first call, despite how quiet your voice is, and when he sees that you’ve given him permission to come in close contact with you, he doesn’t hesitate to walk over to you.
“Do you need something?”
It’s odd the way you feel some sort of relief he’s as responsive as he used to be all those years ago. Maybe because a part of Jungkook will always remain the way that he always was, maybe that’s why you’ve learned to associate him with a figure that you can put a bit of trust in.
“When are they coming?”
“They?” He tilts his head and when you reach a hand out towards him, he takes it in order to help you because you feel your legs are weak in the knees.
“Namjoon. Them.” He takes you to the bed so that you can lie down.
“In a month or so,” he replies. “You said as much time as you need to gain Alexander’s favor but the latest would be in a month.”
You’re already winning so what’s the point in waiting?
It’s been a month, over a month.
You just want to go home already.
“Can you call him?”
Jungkook looks for his phone. “What for?”
“Tell him to come earlier,” you say, body turned over towards him, cheek against the pillow, eyes drowsy. “In a week. I don’t…Karl has…I want him dead.”
For a second his thumb hovers over his phone to look back over at you and there he finds, the little girl he’s seen holding her walls up so high not even a plane can cross over, beginning to crumble in just the slightest way.
You look exhausted.
The makeup does not hide the bags under your eyes, it doesn’t hide the exhaustion, how drained you are over all of this. And maybe a part of that is due to your insisting to stay awake when you needed sleep but a big part of it is the mission itself.
Every mission is a little different from the other, but Jungkook has come to know that every one of them involves someone who has sucked all that sweet girl energy out of you. They’ve all done you wrong and it can’t be easy. It can’t be easy having to face all of them one by one, trying to deal with it all, trying to rid of them, and ultimately as a result, hurting yourself in the process.
“Kook?” Your eyes went closed for a second but upon his silence, you open them up again in order to look up at him, and due to your exhaustion, he finds the pretty girl he once loved all those years ago with the smallest voice as if calling out for him in a sense of help.
“I-I’ll call.” He’s flustered, slightly, but hits the call button with his thumb and walks towards the bathroom. “Stay awake, alright? I won’t be away for too long.”
He closes the door behind him to start looking around for something just as Namjoon picks up on the other end.
“Jungkook?”
“Y/N wanted me to tell you to come earlier.”
“Earlier?” It’s surprising on his end because just the night before, you told him to stick to the original plan. “Did something happen?” Of course something must’ve happened for you to change your mind so quickly.
In some ways you’re just as stubborn as he is, so he knows you aren’t someone who will change your mind that easily.
“This afternoon, uh…” Jungkook hesitates, not sure if it’s okay to relay him the news but something tells him you probably expect Jungkook to not stay silent about it to the boys. They share everything with each other after all, and if you really cared, you wouldn’t have let him anywhere near you after what happened. “Karl, you know, after touching her when she felt uncomfortable?” He did mention the incident a few weeks ago to Namjoon already. “Well, Y/N took up his invitation to tea in order to catch up and stuff and I assume she pissed him off.”
Somehow, Namjoon expected that. After all, you hinted at doing something reckless during your call with him.
“I’m not sure what happened exactly because I wasn’t there but Karl hit her.”
“What?” There’s some shuffling on the other end. “What do you mean hit her?”
“Not just once. She has bruises as a result.”
“Bruises?”
“I should get back to her, she might fall asleep but I’ll catch up with you later.” He doesn’t wait for Namjoon’s reply before cutting the call off and returning to your side out of worry that leaving you alone for too long won’t be good, and the fact that you might have actually fallen asleep on him.
Surprisingly you’re still awake, though your eyes are as droopy as they were when he left you.
“Can you turn over on your back?” Is the first thing he asks of you and you obey, turning over. The bed dips a little when he takes a seat beside you and that’s when you feel he begins to take your lashes off.
“You know there’s a lot of processes that go into taking off makeup, right?” You tell him when he takes the other one off.
“I know, bub, I’ve done it before.”
Right.
He’s helped you before.
“So just stay still, yeah? You don’t have to do anything.”
You listen to the lure of his voice, as soft as the way he used to speak to you all those years ago, and let your eyes close as he begins to swipe the makeup wipe over your face. It’s gentle the way he does it, almost as gentle as Dasom, and although he’s a little clumsy and isn’t as fast as she is, he does his best during it all.
When the makeup wipe is done, you feel your hair pushed back and a band coming over to keep it out of the way, then some sort of cloth on your chest and tied behind your neck.
Warm water walks over your face. Bits of it, not too much, not too little, so that you don’t get too wet anywhere else, and then the feel of soapy foam begins to rub in circles all over your face. The massage feels nice and you almost feel your consciousness slipping away but you keep awake to the touch of Jungkook’s hands.
About a minute later, he soaks a washcloth into water and starts to wipe the cleanser off you so that you don’t have to sit up and wash it off with water yourself.
It takes a moment but eventually, he gets it done, and then you feel a wet cotton pad swipe over next.
Something about all of this, the steps he memorized either for you from the past or the fact that he now does it himself regularly, feels rather domestic and just…soft.
And in your sleepy and tired state, you feel anything but uncomfortable, lured in with the feeling of basking on top of clouds with your head bathing under the warm sun with light little pitter patters of rain sprinkling over you.
You don’t know why you enjoy this so much despite how different it feels from when Dasom does it for you, but knowing that your trust is beginning to leak outside of Reapers somehow brings a sort of comfort you never thought you’d feel.
It’s a little frightening because trusting is always scary, especially for people that had once broken it, but for some reason, it just…feels right.
Somehow.
And maybe that’s because you know they were never at fault in the first place, that they were just forced into making an unwanted decision.
Jung Hoseok would probably be in the same position as they were were he to realize the truth all those years ago. If he hadn’t gotten hurt on that mission. If he hadn’t been forced to lay on the infirmary bed in order to recover. If he hadn’t stood away from the six of them.
Even still, as you’ve said it plenty of times before, just because someone doesn’t mean them doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.
In the safe space that they provided you, you were kicked out of your own comfort and forced to return to the hell you thought you had escaped.
“Why do you not cry?” His voice keeps you awake and when you look up at him through your lashes, eyes feeling quite dreary and heavy, he finds himself pausing in his ministrations as he stares down at you who’s looking up directly at him.
“Why do you ask that?” You return a question, voice just as soft.
Jungkook’s eyes trail down your face. “Karl…he…” he didn’t see what happened but the aftermath of it is right before his eyes. “And Leehyun and…..” He presses his lips together. “You have..so much to cry for.”
“...Do I now?”
“Is there nothing left?” He asks, a hand brushing back small strands of hair that tries to block your eyes.
You don’t nod because you’re too tired to move so you nod through a blink. “It’s all dried up.”
From the water that he used to clean your face, a drop falls from your lash and trails down your cheek, mirroring what a teardrop looks like, and then you say, “But…if I knew how to cry……do you think you deserve to see them?”
He doesn’t reply but you have your answer.
He doesn’t feel worthy.
This Jungkook and the Jungkook you once knew long ago are the same in the way they always feel unworthy of something. No matter how many times you can assure him, he will always think there is something he can do better, that he is undeserving, that he can never be enough.
But unlike idiots who simply say “I don’t deserve you” and go about their days after breaking your heart, Jungkook says it and steps up to do what he can to try and prove to himself that he can be someone deserving.
He always did all that he could and when there came a point when he looked as if he could finally come to terms with being at peace with his love for you, it was ripped away from him all too soon and now he’s back to square one, trying to prove himself.
Even if it isn’t in the form of love.
Jungkook will always care.
But even still,
“I still hate you.”
It comes out soft, it comes out quiet, and a little timid and a little brave, but you hadn’t meant for it to come out.
If you were wide awake, if you weren’t in such a vulnerable state, you would have never spoken those words to him. But because your consciousness is on the verge of slipping away, you speak them out loud for him to hear.
“I know.” And he replies in the same voice, the same softness, quiet, and timid, and brave.
He doesn’t leave your side even after those exchanges uttered unto each other and you fall asleep next to his presence, next to his comfort, next to his warmth.
.
.
.
Jungkook wasn’t there when Taehyung said he witnessed you sleepwalking but he said that it wasn’t the sort of sleepwalking you’d see in a normal person. He said you looked like a ghost more than anything, and that at times, you’d just stand still in the middle of the room and not move an inch.
No, not a ghost. A corpse.
And now here he is, after endless refusal to sleep and finally allowing your eyes to stay closed, he witnesses what Taehyung had meant.
A corpse standing still in the middle of the room, blanket over her shoulders, eyes staring up at the dim sky outside the window, blank and without any hint of life in them.
He watches you from a distance, a furrow in his brows, with his tongue bitten back and his fists clenched by his side.
Subtle anger lies in his heart, brewing, not at you but towards the world that has made you into the sort of person you are today. Or maybe it had always been this way, maybe you had always been hurting and he just never noticed, maybe it was always like this all along and maybe, perhaps, they made it worse when they left you all alone to fend for your own self.
Feeding you to the wolves.
He’s angry not just at the world but at himself and Jungkook knows that if the truth were to ever leave your lips about what actually happened to you, about all the things that you’ve gone through, he knows that this hatred he feels right now is only but a small fraction waiting to build up before it all breaks into the tiniest little pieces.
Shattering in the way he had broken you.
Shattered.
The world can only do so much but he encouraged it by standing by, by letting it all fall down onto you, by letting himself be convinced that you’d be fine, that everything would be alright.
But nothing turned out alright.
In the days and months and years that followed your absence, they returned to how things were, returned to loving one another, accepting one another, forgiving one another. But in those days and months and years, he can only imagine what sort of events you had to face.
While they had each other, while they always had each other to lean on, did you have anyone by your side?
The Reapers may be one thing, supporting you and giving you their utmost loyalty, but did they ever hold power over the things that happened to you in the way Namjoon could have handled it? In the way he would have handled it?
“Y/N?” You don’t answer him when he calls out to you but he expected that so he walks on over to where you’re standing.
You’re as still as ever, and he approaches with a careful, watchful gaze, hesitant when he reaches a finger over to you.
A small touch to the blanket, just over your shoulder, and when you don’t freak out or move away from him, he puts two fingers.
Then another.
Then another.
And when you don’t react to his hand, he proceeds to place a hand on your head and press it towards his chest.
You don’t resist.
“Come on, let’s head back to bed, yeah?” And understanding that you’re okay with him even in this lifeless state of yours, because he knows your body is capable of telling the people you trust and don’t trust apart, he puts his other hand under your knees and picks you up to carry you over back to the bed.
You comply well with him despite your unresponsive self, and when he tucks you back in with the blanket pulled over your chest, he looks back to see your eyes staring straight toward him. Empty yet lonely.
Vacant.
Not at him but through him, and his heart aches a little at the sight.
“You’re alright now,” Jungkook whispers. “You’re alright.”
If Hoseok had been here, would he have been able to do a better job looking after you?
Jungkook wishes he could have been better.
#bts polyamory#bts poly#bts poly au#bts ot7 x reader#bts polyamorous#ot7 x reader#bts x reader#bts mafia au#mafia!bts#bts mafia#bts mafia!au#bts poly!au#poly!bts x reader#poly!bts#bts poly relationship#bts arranged marriage au#namjoon x reader#seokjin x reader#yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader
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Mafia! BTS - They Want to Spoil You
Warnings: /
A/N: They realize you're not well-off or are even struggling financially and that makes them want to take care of you even more. Per popular request <3.
MASTERLIST
Jin
Jin was already lying in bed when you got out of the bathroom. You grabbed your pyjamas from your bag as he watched you change.
"Oh no ..." you mumbled when you saw that the seams in your side tore and left a gap in your top. "Can I borrow a t-shirt?" you asked as you turned to your boyfriend but you already knew the answer. You were beginning to suspect too that Jin even preferred it if you wore his clothes.
"Do you need new pyjamas?"
"No, I'll just sew this up and they'll be like new again," you told as you grabbed Jin's t-shirt from one of the dressers.
"Just get a new pair," said Jin as he sat leaning against his pillow.
"I can already barely get through the month, I can't just buy new clothes whenever there's a tear in them," you laughed as you pulled on Jin's white t-shirt. You climbed into the bed but your smile faded when you saw Jin frowning.
"Are you okay?" you asked gently and scooted closer to him.
"You barely get through the month?" asked Jin seriously. Your mouth parted and your face went blank. Your cheeks turned pink as you thought about how much less you earned compared to Jin. You had made your peace with it already when you two began dating but the difference between your incomes and savings never crossed Jin's mind.
"It's not that bad," you smiled and tried to reassure your boyfriend. "I have a beginner's salary, it's normal."
"It's not normal if you're struggling," said Jin sternly as he sat up straight and his hand cupped your cheek. "Let me take care of you." He frowned even worse.
"You don't have to take care of me, Jin, I'm fine, really," you insisted although the past few months have been really tight for you financially. Your rent took most of the money whilst you were staying at Jin's place the majority of the nights. Then there was the food and the bills, the everyday things and the public transport. Your phone was so battered that the screen had began to flicker a couple of weeks ago.
A look so determined filled Jin's eyes that it began to worry you a little.
"Please don't think about it anymore, Jinnie," you begged as you took his cheeks and kissed him. He struggled to respond at first, his mind in a storm, but he couldn't resist your soft lips.
The next day when you woke up, you reached for the nightstand blindly to check the time on your phone but you couldn't find it. You rose your head and frowned when your phone was nowhere to be seen.
"Have you seen my phone?" you mumbled sleepily when you came into the living area, finding Jin already dressed in another one of his perfect outfits. It must have been late in the morning judging by the daylight if not close to noon. Jin liked to sleep in as well but not that day. He had been up since early morning.
"Here you go, princess," said Jin as he handed you a phone.
"This isn't my phone?" you asked confused and tried to give it back to Jin. It seemed brand new so you figured he changed his.
"It's your phone," insisted Jin, his eyes still filled with the same unbending look as the night before. You frowned and tapped the screen. The background was the same as on your phone, the contacts and the apps, everything was the same but the machine itself.
You looked up and finally noticed the dozens of bags lying around on the sofa and the coffee table.
"What's all this?" you breathed, your frown only deepening.
"You bought this for yourself, princess," said Jin as he took your free hand and placed a black card in your palm.
"N-No, I didn't," you backed away but tried to give the card back to Jin at the same time. He didn't even look at your hand.
"Jin, please," you begged when you realized what he was doing. "I don't need any of this—"
"Y/N," warned Jin when he turned to you. "Not another word." His hands caressed your neck gently before they moved up to your jaw and made you look up at him. He leaned in slowly and kissed you, silencing any protests that might want to come out of your mouth.
"I'll know if you won't use the card, Y/N," he cautioned against your lips, sending shivers down your spine, but you only wanted another kiss. Jin backed away when you searched for his plush lips again. You opened your eyes, seeing the stern look on Jin's handsome face.
"Just let me take care of you, princess," he spoke quietly, his chest vibrating with the deepness of his voice. You nodded weakly, folding at the prospect of Jin's affection. True to your presumptions, he rewarded you with another tender kiss.
Namjoon
You found your boyfriend sitting on the sofa, checking something on his laptop when you took a seat beside him.
"Are you busy?" you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him.
"No, it's just some stupid emails," said Namjoon absently, his eyes scanning through the unnecessarily long blocks of text. "What is it, baby?"
"I was just ... I was wondering if ..." You cleared your throat as you squeezed your hands nervously. "If you could maybe lend me some money," you asked with difficulty. Your cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment when Namjoon tore his gaze from his laptop and looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing into a heavy frown.
"I'd pay you back everything," you said quickly. "It's just for rent—"
"What do you mean you'd pay me back?" asked Namjoon sternly, a tempest of thoughts behind his dark irises.
"I'll get my paycheck next week and I'll pay you back every cent, I promise," you explained although the demanding look on his features gave you little hope. His pensive eyes studied your face wordlessly. "It's okay if you don't want to, I'll ask my mom—"
"For rent?" Namjoon cut you off. His frown only grew deeper as he struggled to understand what you were asking.
"It's okay, I shouldn't have asked; I know it's weird," you said quickly and took Namjoon's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You tried to get up but he caught your wrist and pulled you back down.
"How much do you make?" demanded Namjoon. His voice was gentle but no less inquisitive. Your face went blank as more heat rose to your face. You didn't even make a hundredth of what Namjoon was bringing in in your first job as a beginner with no position.
"You know I don't make as much as you do," you swallowed. Even though your answer gave little information, Namjoon realized for the first time since you began dating that you might be financially unstable. He knew what you did and you liked your job but since money was never an issue for him, he never considered it might be an issue for you.
"I'll take care of it," nodded Namjoon and smoothed his thumb gently across your cheek before he got up.
"Take care of what?" you asked wide-eyed as you stared up at him. "Namjoon, I just need—"
"I'll take care of it," repeated Namjoon and gave your forehead a kiss as he buttoned his suit jacket. He grabbed his phone and his wallet and made for the door.
"Namjoon," you called again but he was adamant and gone.
A few hours later, you were looking through the fridge to think of some ideas for dinner when Namjoon came back. He set down a brown folder on the kitchen isle with a credit card on top of it before he pulled off his jacket and came to you for a kiss. You closed the fridge blindly as you responded to his lips but your mind was on the folder.
"What's this?" you asked as you removed the card from the brown paper and opened the file. It was a title deed with your name on it as part of a property transfer. The apartment in question was your rental paid in full and written in your name. Your eyebrows gathered into a frown as your mouth parted and your stomach gave a nervous squeeze.
"I told you I'd take care of it," said Namjoon easily and grabbed some orange juice from the fridge. You stared at him, your frown as deep as ever.
"You bought my apartment?" you asked astounded.
"No, you bought your apartment," said Namjoon as he drank the cold juice from a crystal glass. His fingers sat down on top of the dark credit card and he pushed it towards you. The letters of your name were engraved on the luxurious-painted plastic.
"Are you insane?" you blurted, your chest riddled with guilt. You were used to working hard for everything you had and hated accepting things from others. Even birthday gifts if too extravagant made you uncomfortable.
"I can't accept this, I won't accept this, Namjoon," you insisted although you could see it on his face that you were shouting in deaf ears. Your boyfriend was one of the most intransigent people in the world and when he decided on something there was no changing his mind.
"It's yours," said Namjoon nonchalantly, "Whether you like it or not."
Your eyes flinched in the direction of the crackling fireplace as you held the folder in your hands. Namjoon followed your gaze and smiled with amusement.
"I have a digital copy, baby," said Namjoon as he came closer to you. "The apartment is yours and so is the card." His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you to him, his forehead almost leaning against yours whilst you stared up at him.
"I'll know if you won't spend anything," he purred a warning and came even closer. "And I won't like it if you don't spend anything." His deep voice gave you goosebumps as your eyes flicked down to his plush lips.
"I want to spoil you, baby," said Namjoon against your soft mouth. "You should let me." He closed the space between your lips and kissed you deeply enough for the folder to fall from your hands as he pulled your waist to his hips.
Yoongi
"Fuck ..." you mumbled under your breath as you scrolled through the bills on your email, your back against the foot of the sofa and your laptop on the coffee table. Your stomach was in a tight knot. You tried to calculate the priorities but even that surpassed the amount that was left on your bank account from your last paycheck.
"What is it?" asked Yoongi as he sat on the sofa behind you, his legs on each side of your frame when he kissed the top of your head.
"Nothing," you whispered and closed your laptop quickly. You looked up and gratefully responded to Yoongi kissing your lips. His hand was caressing your neck gently, the cold rings on his long fingers giving you goosebumps as they made contact with your warm skin.
"You sure?" asked Yoongi when he pulled away a little. You set your eyes forward again and bit your lip as you nodded. Yoongi's hand glided around your neck and pushed back your soft hair as he began to run his fingers through it. You leaned your head against the sofa and closed your eyes.
"Tell me what's wrong," said Yoongi. His voice was deep and quiet but no less authoritative.
"Nothing's wrong," you insisted as you shook your head a little. Yoongi frowned more and more with each second. You didn't even have to open your eyes to see his expression. You knew that he knew that you were hiding something.
"You don't trust me anymore, jagi?" asked Yoongi. His hand came down to your cheek and caressed you gently. Your eyes opened at those words and you turned around to look at him.
"Of course I trust you," you spoke feverishly.
"Why won't you talk to me then?" said Yoongi as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.
"Because it's nothing," you lied. "And you'll worry and think that you have to fix it."
"Fix what?" pressed Yoongi. You groaned desperately and buried your face into the sofa. Yoongi seized the opportunity and opened your laptop behind your back, his eyes scanning over the bills.
"No, wait—" you tried to close the laptop when you noticed what he was doing but it was already too late. He saw everything.
"Yoongi, don't do anything," you begged as you got up to your knees and cupped his face. The look in his eyes was as hard and unmoving as a mountain and your words fell on deaf ears. He pulled the wallet from his back pocket and slid out a slick black credit card.
"Here you go, kitten, happy anniversary," said Yoongi as he offered you the card. You stood up with a frown.
"Our anniversary won't be for three months," you protested although that was far from Yoongi's point or yours for that matter. He stood up as well, took your hand and wrapped your fingers around his card.
"You can give me that card all you want but I won't spend a dime," you insisted. Yoongi turned to you slowly and took a good look at you. His eyes made your stomach dance with butterflies and fireworks.
"Fine," said Yoongi as he came closer to you. "Then I'll make you." His voice send shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He took your hand and you had no choice but to follow him. He drove you half-way across town until you arrived to a large glass building.
"Why are we here?" you questioned when Yoongi opened the car door for you. "Please, let's just go home." You took your boyfriend's hand but he wasn't paying your tugs no mind.
"Yoongi," you gasped under your breath and squeezed his hand tightly when he led you inside the Cartier boutique. It was too late to leave without causing a scene in front of the elegant saleswomen.
"Mr Min," said the older one of the two with her hair in a neat bun. "We're so happy to see you're back. It's been too long," smiled the other lady and took in the sight of you, giving you a warm smile as well.
"We have a very special thing for you," said the older lady and disappeared in the back.
"Yoongi," you pleaded in a whisper as you tugged on his hand a little but his fingers were tightly intertwined with yours. Yoongi looked down into your eyes, defeating you in an instance.
"This is one of our rarest and most sought after items, Mr Min," purred the older saleslady. She placed a beautiful red box on the glass counter before you and opened it with care. "This is out Panthere Maillon Etrier necklace in 18 carat white gold. It's distinguished for its geometric shape with the center of the necklace set with brilliant cut diamonds around 2,15 carats."
Your lips parted as your face went blank in the face of the exquisite piece of jewellery. You had never even stood in a jewellery shop, much less in Cartier itself. Yoongi observed your reaction for a while before he nodded to the saleslady.
"Very good," she smiled and motioned to her assistant to take care of the payment.
You realized that the purchase was agreed to and looked up at your boyfriend with wide eyes.
"Please," said the younger saleslady when she gestured elegantly at the payment terminal. Your gaze shifted between her, the astronomical number on the screen and Yoongi.
"Your card, kitten," said Yoongi as he stared down at you. You were still clutching to the black piece of plastic in your clammy hand. You swallowed before you inched the card closer to the terminal until it made a sound of approval.
"See? It's not that hard," purred Yoongi in your ear as his arm wrapped around your waist. You turned to him, your lips only inches apart. "You can use it for other things now too, kitten, and I'll know if you won't," he spoke quietly, his hot breath teasing your mouth as he slowly closed the space between you and kissed you greedily.
Hoseok
Although you have been dating Hoseok for a while now, you were never very comfortable talking about money with him. You grew up poor and even though you were just starting your first job now, you still struggled quite a lot. You didn't mind that Hoseok made a lot of money, you accepted that right in the beginning of your relationship, but you never wanted to talk about your situation because of that. Yet when you had a glass of wine too much with your dinner last week, you told Hoseok about your upbringing and how the notion of always having to save money was still rooted deep inside of you.
You shouldn't have said anything, though, because once Hoseok found out about it, he began to shower you with gifts every single day. You didn't mind him paying for meals when you went out but the gifts he was giving you now weren't anything short of luxurious.
"Hobi, I swear if you get me another thing—" you threatened when you saw the timeless Hermès Kelly on your nightstand. Your stomach twisted into knots just at the idea of how much it must have cost.
When you turned around with your index pointed at Hoseok, he was standing so close to you that the wind was knocked out of you. Your lips parted as Hobi towered over you.
"Or what?" he asked with an amused smile resting on his lips and in his dark eyes. You were at a loss for words. "Or what, kitten?" he asked again, taking another half a step closer to you and closed the space between your bodies.
"You should look what's inside, baby," Hoseok encouraged, enjoying every moment of seeing the puzzled and flushed look on your face.
You looked inside the leather bag hesitantly and found a creamy white jewellery box inside. It was already clutched in your fingers before you let it go and took a step back, your hands hugging your elbows as the corners of your eyebrows pulled downwards.
"I don't want it, you spoke weakly as Hoseok frowned at your reaction.
"You haven't even looked at it," said Hoseok but you shook your head and backed away some more.
"I don't want it - I didn't earn it and I sure as hell don't deserve it," you tried to leave the bedroom but Hoseok caught your wrist.
"Y/N," he called as he cupped your neck just beneath your jaw and made you look up at him but you were avoiding his eyes. "Y/N," Hoseok warned again and you looked at him. His frown softened when he saw the sad look on your face.
"That's the least of what you deserve, baby." He brushed his thumbs along the gentle line of your jaw. "Stop fighting me and let me take care of you." Hoseok leaned his forehead against yours, his closeness calming down your anxiety immediately. Your arms found their way around his sides as you came closer, pressing your cheek against his chest.
"It's okay, baby, you'll get used to it," Hoseok spoke gently against your hair before he kissed the top of your head, his hands caressing your back.
"Wear it to the opera tonight, baby," he said after a while. "Will you wear it for me, kitten?" Hoseok cupped your cheeks again and made you look up at him. You nodded a little. He smiled and leaned in, his thumbs caressing your soft skin as he kissed you tenderly.
When you finally found the courage to come near the bag and the jewellery box again, you were already wearing your evening dress. You opened the delicate velvet box and found a pearl necklace in 18 carat yellow gold. The letters Mikimoto were engraved in the satin interior of the box.
"Do you like it?" smiled Hoseok as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before he pressed a soft kiss on your bare shoulder.
You nodded weakly as you studied the necklace without a breath in your lungs. "It's beautiful."
Hoseok took the necklace from the box as you scooped up your hair and the cold pearls made contact with your warm skin. Hoseok fastened the clip in the back and took your soft hair from your hands, his fingers letting them fall down your back.
"You're so beautiful, baby," purred Hoseok when his hands returned to your waist and pulled you to him as his lips left tender kisses along your shoulder.
Jimin
When you got back from work, you were surprised to find Jimin already at home. It was barely the afternoon and he sometimes stayed at the office until evening.
"Hey," you greeted softly as you cuddled up next to him on the sofa. You wrapped your arms around his sides and leaned against his chest but he didn't budge. Jimin was pretending to watch the TV and refused to even say hello.
You sat up perplexed as you studied your boyfriend's sullen frown.
"What's wrong?" you breathed, your chest heavy with guilt although you had no idea what you did wrong. You took your boyfriend's hand and squeezed it pleadingly but Jimin gave no reaction.
"Jimin-ah," you tried again, your voice almost cracking. You couldn't stand having him be upset with you, especially when you had no idea what could have made him react this way. Jimin was never upset with you no matter what, which is why his reaction affected you so much.
The desperation in your voice made Jimin break his harsh facade. He turned to you frowning no less.
"Why do you think I gave you that card?" said Jimin bitterly but you were lost. He leaned forward and grabbed the bank statement from the coffee table and showed it to you.
"You promised me that you would spend money on that card, Y/N," said Jimin when you read through the humble list of meals you had paid with Jimin's card, the 30 dollars that you had spent on buying some cute office supplies and the 20 dollars you had left at the bookstore.
"But I did," you insisted, showing Jimin the bank statement that he knew by heart now. He rolled his eyes and glared at you again. You had never seen him behave like this before. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed at you. A part of you knew that he wanted you to spend more money but there was nothing you really needed that much. After Jimin found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he pulled the card right from his wallet and gave it to you.
"You promised me, Y/N," said Jimin and got up. Your wide eyes followed him and your lips were parted in shock. He grabbed his car keys and waited for you to get up as well.
"What are you doing?" you asked your boyfriend.
"I'm making you keep your promises to me, sweetheart," said Jimin darkly as he took your hand and led you down to his car.
Jimin drove you to the enormous glass building where he liked to shop. You had been there with him a hundred times before but the prices made your stomach twist into knots.
"Jimin, this isn't necessary—" you tried to reason with him but he only grabbed your hand and led you straight to Tiffany & Co.
"Jimin, please," you begged him as your chest grew heavy with guilt. The salespeople knew him. He already got you a pair of their earrings before but you had only worn them once to your anniversary dinner for fear of losing them.
Jimin picked out a 20 carat diamond necklace for you since he knew you'd refuse to choose any of the items the salespeople displayed especially for him.
Your boyfriend gave you his card and stared at you. He was still angry with you and the sight of it made your heart break.
"Jimin," you pleaded but he didn't budge. The lady at the cash registry waited patiently when the five digit number appeared on the payment terminal in front of you.
"Y/N," Jimin warned when he saw you hesitate. You swallowed and gave in. You pressed Jimin's card against the terminal and felt even worse when it gave a sound of approval.
Jimin took you to Dior next, then Celine, Balenciaga and even Chanel where his card caused more rings of approval from the payment terminal. Your boyfriend's frown, however, began to melt away when he saw you try on couture and get tended to from every direction by the salespeople.
Jimin leaned against the door frame of your dressing room as he watched you put on a beautiful white dress with a black ribbon that screamed Chanel. He glanced over his shoulder before he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Jimin leaned his chin against your shoulder as he watched you in the mirror.
"See? It's not that hard, baby," he purred before he pressed a soft kiss on your exposed neck and you couldn't help but lean back against him.
Taehyung
"What's this?" asked your boyfriend as he opened his bank statement. You looked up with big wide eyes and your heart sank a little. After Taehyung found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he gave you his card and practically threatened you to spend money on it when you refused.
"I-I just ... " you began to stutter. You had bought yourself a new bag for your laptop and for the things you needed whenever you went to study or to work and a perfume that you knew Taehyung loved. Those were the kind of treats you could only afford once in a while on your own but since he encouraged you, you got them for yourself although it made you feel no less guilty.
"You said ... You said I should get a few things," you spoke carefully as you watched Taehyung's frown whilst he scanned the contents of his bank statement before his dark eyes turned to you.
"Why didn't you?" he asked sternly, showing you the slip. Your eyes turned into a different kind of wide when he spoke the opposite of what you imagined. You took the bank statement and saw your two items on there along with a few meals that you paid for with Taehyung's card.
"What do you mean? I got the bag," you gestured towards the beautiful accessory that was sitting at the foot of the sofa. "And I got the perfume - it's Gucci." Even saying the brand name weighed heavy on your tongue with guilt. You had never owned a luxurious brand item in your life before you met Taehyung.
"Yeah, and you got tteokbokki, bubble tea, two coffees and spent 12 dollars at a pizza place," Taehyung listed the rest of the items of places where the card was used.
"Do you want me to pay you back?" you asked unsure but that made Taehyung frown even deeper.
"Come on," he instructed as he took your hand and led you to his car. You watched him as he drove you to the city center and pulled up in front of Cartier.
"Tae—" you protested but he cut you off by getting out of the car. "Tae," you tried again when he grabbed your hand and took you inside the luxurious boutique.
"Mr Kim," the elegant saleswoman greeted the moment she saw your boyfriend and you enter their exclusive shop. "We're so glad to see you return, it's been a while." She smiled a bright smile when she saw you before she brought out a collection of their most exquisite items, timeless pieces inspired by art deco.
You tried to get your boyfriend's attention and get out of there but he would not so much as budge. He chose a sapphire and diamond bracelet for you. When the lady presented a six digit on the computer screen, your face grew hot with fever.
"Tae, don't—" you tried but Taehyung glared at you so intensely that you were at a loss for words. He showed you his card - your card - and pressed it against the payment terminal. Your mouth parted when the machine gave a happy sound of approval and the saleslady thanked the both of you. She tried to hand you the velvet box within a beautiful paper bag but Taehyung accepted it instead.
"You're getting this when you pay for dinner tonight, kitten," said Taehyung to you and only you, his dark voice sending shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He handed you back his credit card and left a small kiss on your jaw right above your neck, his lips hiding a shadow of a smirk.
Jungkook
"Please don't make me do this," you begged when Jungkook took you to Calvin Klein and made you try on a series of luxurious fragrances. The prices of the items they sold made your cheeks flush red with discomfort. Ever since Jungkook found out that you weren't financially stable, he insisted you spend money on his elite black card. If you failed to meet his expectations, he made you go shopping and this was just one of those instances.
Jungkook's nose brushed against your neck where one of the wonderful perfumes mingled with your skin.
"You smell so good, kitten," murmured Jungkook, his dark voice giving you goosebumps. He pulled away, his face only inched from yours as he watched you with amusement. Your boyfriend leaned in slowly, a few locks of his dark hair brushing against your forehead. You put your arms around his neck and guided him to you but he pulled away at the last moment, leaving you wide-eyed and perplexed.
"Only after you use the card, kitten," said Jungkook and placed the black credit card into your hand.
"But ..." Your gaze flicked between your boyfriend and your palm. "Jungkook," you whined in protest.
"You should have done this on your own, Y/N," said Jungkook smoothly as he stepped closer to you and you backed away until your back hit the perfume counter. His long arms leaned against the wooden surface and trapped you there. A sharp breath caught in the back of your throat as you stared at you boyfriend but your gaze kept drifting to his lips.
"We could have been somewhere else right now," spoke Jungkook quietly as his eyes gained a dark, glossy look that made your knees go weak.
"O-Okay," you found yourself stuttering.
After you paid for the perfumes you liked, you were eager to leave the luxurious shopping center.
"Not so fast, kitten," said Jungkook as he caught your hand and pulled you inside the Bvlgari boutique.
"Jungkook—" you spoke breathlessly but the salesman already nodded to Jungkook and went to retrieve something from the back.
"Jungkook, please, let's just go," you tried to reason with your boyfriend, but this time, instead of tempting you with his kisses, Jungkook frowned at you. His eyebrows arched sharply as he caressed your cheek.
"Stop fighting me, kitten," he spoke quietly but his chest was vibrating with the deepness of his husky voice. "We made a deal."
Jungkook had made you promise that you would use the card and not just for the things you needed like meals and everyday items.
"Here it is, Mr Jeon," smiled the elegant salesman. He presented a beautiful velvet box on the counter and opened it carefully. A Serpenti Viper Necklace was sitting on the cushion made in its shape. The metal used was white 18 carat gold with so many diamonds it would take you a month to count them.
Your lips parted in awe as you looked up at Jungkook. His frown vanished behind a small smile when his eyes found yours, a playful look in his dark irises.
"Would you like to try it on, Miss?" asked the courteous salesman. You checked with Jungkook and he nodded to the employee. He didn't let the salesman put it on you, though, that was his job. You turned to the mirror whilst the salesman went to assist the person in the back and Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist. His gaze traced the viper's tail that led down the middle of your chest.
"Do you like it?" asked Jungkook, his hot breath teasing your ear as his eyes found yours in the mirror.
"It's exquisite," you breathed, feeling the weight of the diamonds and gold against your skin. Your hand took one of Jungkook's and intertwined your fingers with his,
"Just like you, kitten," he spoke softly and left a tender kiss on your neck.
#bts fiction#bts mafia#bts#bts edit#bts gang#namjoon#jin#yoongi#jhope#hoseok#suga#rm#jimin#taehyung#v#masterlist#bts masterlist#mafia#fiction#bts imagine#bts mafia reactions#bts mafia au#bts aesthetic#kim seokjin#kim namjoon#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook
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Our Little Love part six - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
Warnings - 3.6k words of : Toxic yandere men, sub drop, crime, violence, injury, emotionally abusive behaviour, possessive behaviour, lying and manipulation, monopolising, unhealthy relationships, aftercare ish, love bombing?, Namjoon's dark side is coming out but internally (because we can read his mind but MC can't)
It’s a sting or an ache that rouses you awake, coming from your bruised wrist. You let out a soft gasp of pain, lifting your head to see Yoongi carefully applying cream to the dents the ropes had burned into your perfect skin.
“Hoseok and his stupid games,” he mutters, full focus on making sure he’s soothing the marks of their punishment, like if the evidence of them went away so would the sadness they inflicted on you as well. It was a stupid naive thought, Yoongi knew it, but your presence in his life filled him with that silly feeling of hope.
He gently rests your wrist on the bed, searching for the next limb before he notices your eyes on him. They’re blank he notices, void of anything, fuck, they really did a number on you. He couldn’t swallow down the lump of regret lodged in his throat, no he would suffocate on it until you recovered.
You feel the bed dip beside your head, but it doesn’t pull your gaze away from Yoongi as he pulls your other wrist cautiously away from where you held it against your chest. You feel fingers in your hair, the urge to nuzzle against them almost overwhelming but the memories of their harsh words keeps you still.
“Heaven,” Taehyung's deep voice murmurs loud enough for you to hear as he plays with the strands. “Does it hurt?”
At his words you feel something pierce your middle, a pain that lay dormant until it was called out. A part of him means the sting of Yoongi’s ministriations, another part of him means the hole they carved out of your chest. At first it might seem sadistic, but he needed you to feel it, if you felt empty it would be harder to coax you back, the hurt meant you were still alive, still with them, and not an empty shell they were terrified they pushed you to be.
He would take your anger, your betrayal, your sadness over the void you presented to them now. Yoongi moves you carefully from your fetal position on the bed, so you’re lying on your back, your eyes meet Taehyung’s as he peers down at you. The position has an itch of anxiety building under your skin, it's too familiar to your punishment even if you aren’t as physically as exposed, but the burn in your extremities from those ropes lulled your brain into believing it was about to happen again.
You see the frown in his brows as he watches your chest lift and fall too deeply, the look in your eyes like a caged animal looking for a chance to run. It’s when Yoongi takes hold of your ankle you pull away with a small whimper. Both men look at each other for a moment as you swallow down the rising panic.
“Little love,” Yoongi says, being as reassuring as he can, “I’m not trying to hurt you.”
You inhale like your soul slammed its way back to your body, the corners of your eyes watering.
“Liar,” you barely manage to whisper, but it's loud enough that it cuts him. He deserved that. The anxiety in your limbs creeps into your chest, seizing your lungs until you’re unable to take a breath.
The hand in your hair moves to cup your face, his body lying beside you, your hand is on his chest, your insides fighting with the urge to push him away or clutch his shirt and pull him closer.
“Y/n you need to breathe,” Tae instructs against your hair soothingly, taking your hand on his chest in his. The other palm turns your head so you face him, his thumb stroking circles on your cheek. “Breathe with me.”
You want to tell him you can’t, but you try to follow his example, earning yourself a small smile on his face, the hum of danger dampening. You lose yourself to Tae as you both lie together, feeling yourself calm before sleep takes you again. The last thing you feel is soft lips on your temple, but you’re too exhausted to register it.
—
“How is she doing?” Jin asks Yoongi as he washes his hands, breaking his despondent stare at nothing.
He just nods in reply, avoiding eye contact. There were only a few times that Yoongi ever felt himself be moved to tears, but the state you were in now shoved him on the brink of a breakdown. And the worst part of it all was that they were responsible. Aftercare, especially after one of Hoseok’s sessions, was vital and they all knew it and yet because they were caught up in their own emotions they let you drop.
“That bad huh,” Jin laughs humorlessly under his breath, leaning against the door frame as he contemplates his own shortcomings. “Namjoon wasn’t lying when he told her we were the scum of the earth.”
He hangs his head back, looking up at the ceiling as if it would hold all the answers or at least grant him the ability to rewind time back to when you first woke up.
“We weren’t supposed to be scum to her,” Yoongi muttered, turning off the water that scalded his hands red, the pain was good, it felt like he was paying for his mistakes, although it was a small compensation to what he would have to pay. “The rest of the world doesn’t matter, to Y/n we were supposed to be worthy of her.”
“But we’re not,” Jin replies quietly.
“We didn’t have to prove it,” he bites back, feeling resentment towards Namjoon for bringing it up at all. He understood the need to be accepted, raging red flags and all, but to you they were supposed to be better, you were supposed to be the exception.
“What if she never forgives us,” he whispers his fears to the oldest of them, that tight invisible grip around his throat still present.
Jin can’t even bring himself to placate him, he can’t, he has the same fears.
—
Jimin’s tears crumbled their already broken hearts, but when Jungkook joined in it made them feel a despair they hadn’t felt since the day you left them.
“It’s going to be fine,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth, unsure of who he was trying to convince when a small voice in the back of his head was calling him a liar. If he could he would shoot the voice dead. “Our relationship isn’t that weak.”
Hoseok watches their leader massage his eyes as though a headache was starting.
“You need to go see her,” Yoongi says to Namjoon, arms folded, voice empty of emotion. Their fearless head of the crime syndicate had yet to visit you since the fight in the bathroom, Yoongi knew he would eat his words once he did.
“How are we going to fix this?” Hosek groans, patting Jimin’s head as he cried. The maknae was attached to Jimin’s back, both of them on the floor as they sobbed.
Taehyung had refused to leave your side, the others went in and out but Tae was afraid if he left you you would find a way to escape again, and he couldn’t live through that a second time.
“We broke her by exposing her,” Namjoon mumbles mostly to himself, thinking out loud, biting the skin of his thumb uncharacteristically nervous. “Made her feel like it was something bad…” made her pull away from us because we didn’t make her feel safe and let her drop. “Need to rebuild trust in the same way,” need to make her feel loved, “reassure her,” hold her but keep her vulnerable so she doesn’t build back up with walls against us.
His brain works fast, now that the Suho problem was dealt with, he could focus on you until the repercussions of the Captain came. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there would be some sort of retaliation, the Captain didn’t seem the sort to let things go.
“No more games,” Yoongi breaks his train of thoughts, eyes boring into him before looking at Hoseok too. “No more punishments, she never deserved any of them we were just sadistic fucks looking for an outlet for our own insecurity.”
Namjoon’s fist clenches, unhappy with the tone his usually stoic friend takes, even if his words held some truth.
“A whole world at our disposal to kick down and we take it out on our little love,” Yoongi scoffs, chuckling in disgust with himself and the others. “We really are scum of the Earth.”
—
The Captain doesn’t find the ceiling all that interesting, but it’s all he can stare at alone in the hospital wing. He’s not alone in the sense of physically, the hospital staff mill around working on the ward, he’s merely separated by curtains from the other patients, but the noise around him felt like a hum, a buzz in the background. The only visitor he had was the Chief of police telling him to stand down about the syndicate task force and then offering (ordering) him half a years paid leave.
“Take the time off,” he had said. “Recover,” he patted Suho’s shoulder before muttering, “it’ll do you some good.”
But the captain could see the truth in the Chief’s eyes, a hidden variable that was making him speak through the shadows. Kim Namjoon got to the police, he had his strings attached to every officer like they were his puppets. He only needed the top brass, they would create order and command for him. He wondered what he had on them all, how deep the corruption ran.
It seemed he was cut at the knees in more ways than one, the leader of the crime syndicate really drove that message home. He laughs at himself humourlessly despite the lack of anything funny in sight. One of the nurses giving him a judgmental side eye, wondering to herself whether they gave him too much morphine.
Suho could still feel the pain tearing through his knee and his hand, albeit dulled by the drugs in his system. The bullet had been lodged into his bone, it required surgery to be pulled out, surgery that was paid for by an anonymous benefactor. The thought of who he suspected as that person made him want to beg to put the bullet back.
Powerless wasn’t a feeling he was all that common with, even in his darkest days on the force he always felt hope, knew he would see the Sun rise another day. But Kim Namjoon had a way of drowning the Sun, and all her rays of hope. He could only pray that by some miracle, he could pull you out of the waters before your light washed out.
—
The scene when you open your eyes is eerily similar to the one before your world flipped upside down, a part of you wanted to believe the hands of time had turned back or at least you woke up in an alternative universe where the fight never happened, but the memories burned through your mind too clearly for anything else to be true. All seven of your walking talking red flags were posted around you in the room, eyes on you albeit much softer than that day, yet for some reason it puts you on edge.
“Heaven,” Jimin sits on his knees on the bed peering down at you, you notice the telling red rims around his eyes and his nose, was he crying? Why? He tries to cover it with a smile, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons but he couldn’t hide the evidence from you, you knew him too well.
He takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips before he mumbles desperately against your skin, his voice breaking, “forgive us.”
Tentatively, as if afraid you were going to break or run away, two arms wrap around your middle, the maknae lying beside you burying his head into you but you can hear the tell tale sniffles. It was rare any of them ever cried, you really must look like a state.
Your head throbs from the continuous cycles of sleep you were putting yourself through, sleep was safe and you were too exhausted to live, let alone deal with the repercussions of your relationship.
“Jungkook, you’re smothering our dove,” Hoseok sighs, arms folded as he keeps his distance. He wouldn’t say it aloud but since he and Namjoon were the directors of your punishment and subsequently the push into subdrop he was afraid of approaching you.
It wasn’t just your rejection that would break his heart, but if his presence caused a reaction of trauma, more than what you were presenting now, it would crumble him. It took everything in his will power not to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive them, and the man had never begged anyone for anything before.
Even Namjon kept himself an arm length away, sitting on the ottoman at the end of your bed, watching you as the others interacted. Soekjin had stood beside you, his fingers massaging your forehead as if he could sense the pain, but your eyes find Namjoon.
“Did you hurt him?” It was the first time you had seen him and the first words out of your mouth were about that cockroach. He can feel his anger begin to simmer dangerously, his jaw clenches before he releases a self deprecating laugh under his breath. This was cruel even for you, was it a test? Why didn’t you ask him whether he killed him, that he could answer truthfully, the details were a little more complicated.
“We didn’t kill him,” Hoseok says, his mind flashing back to standing on the roof of the opposite building holding the sniper as it took out the Captain’s leg.
“That’s not what I asked,” you whisper, eyes starting to water again.
Namjoon glances at Yoongi’s warning stare, the thoughts written clearly on his stone face, enough of proving to you how evil they truly were, the truth didn’t matter, only you did. But yet there was something inside of him urging him to tell you, a sadistic part of him that wanted to break the already cracked dusty rose tinted glasses. Was it so bad of him to want you to love the darkest parts of him? Couldn’t you hear his soul cry out for you to love him despite how bloodstained it was?
“No we didn’t hurt him Love,” he sighs, hanging his head so he wouldn’t have to meet your gaze, his fist clenching the material of his trousers. The lie tasted like coal in his mouth, but he would swallow it down even if it upset his stomach.
You let out a sound of relief, the weight on your shoulders suddenly disappeared and you could breathe freely again. They actually saw you smile, and the guilt only cemented.
“Thank you,” you exhale, the feeling of love you were holding back against them now allowed to roam back into your body. There was hope, there was a chance to heal your relationship; they listened to you despite their murderous intent, you were relieved. You were so worried they would kill him anyway despite your plea not to, but this was proof they were willing to work on themselves with you, that you meant something to them more than being their toy.
You close your eyes, feeling overwhelmed. Jimin wipes away your tears, you hadn’t even realised had slipped from the corner of your eyes.
“Our baby’s so caring,” Jin comments, trying to keep the bite out of his voice and eyes. Your gaze falls on him and he smiles, it’s the most fake thing he’s ever done in front of you but you’d believe it. Seokjin was a mastermind at manipulation, to the point he could paint whatever he wanted on his face regardless of his emotions. Namjoon had debriefed them before you woke up, the objective was to do what they did best, monopolise you back under their spell.
It throws you, the gentle expression on his face, maybe you did wake up in an alternate reality. Jungkook distracts you, pulling you closer against him, his lips on your shoulder, making his way up your neck and cheek slowly. You turn to face him, eyes in a daze, that sweet bunny smile greeting you shyly but your attention is pulled away by another.
The back of Taehyung’s fingers trace your cheek gently, another smile greeting you when you turn to him on the other side of you, finding him kneeling on the floor beside the bed. He takes notice of your glazed stare, the slow confusion on your face.
“Aren’t you the cutest little love to ever exist,” he coos quietly.
“Our only little love,” Yoongi corrects him.
“Our slice of heaven,” Jimin pipes in.
“The only heaven we’ll ever see,” Namjoon’s deep voice gruffs.
That overwhelming feeling only grew, but it didn’t feel unwanted, you felt cushioned, like you were being lifted or floating on a cloud. Gentle touches, soft words, soothing your soul quiet, letting it rest. But you were unaware a part of you was being buried.
“Our perfect Angel,” Namjoon whispered and for some reason it felt like the final nail in the coffin making you snap back to your senses.
“No,” you sit up to face him, breaking away all the physical touch they had on you. The safe space they had lulled you into with all your defences bare had shattered. “You can’t expect me to accept you for all your flaws if you won’t do the same for me.”
There’s a fight in your eyes that comes alive as you stare him down, but he keeps quiet letting you fill the silence.
“I am not perfect, YOU need to stop pretending I am,” you throw his words back at him, he fucked you with those words and made you accept their cruelty, he would have to offer you the same respite. “I am done with trying to live up to this impossible image you have of me, because every time I break the illusion I can see the disappointment in your faces and it kills me every time.”
“Little love, you are perfect,” Jin sighs, moving to sit in front of you to break the staring match between you and Joon. “All those things you think are flaws are perfect Love, they’re a part of you, of course they’re perfect.”
His thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, trying to will away the fire when it threatened to burn everything they had spent rebuilding in this room with your recovery.
“If we made you feel anything other than perfect dove that’s our fault,” Hoseok admits, “but you already know how bad we are, it’s always our fault, don’t let us fool you otherwise.”
“You don’t get it,” you frown, looking down at your lap. “When you love me like that, it's a burden.”
“Love,” Yoongi calls for you, desperation in his voice, hating that you felt that way at all. “That’s not our intention.”
“Baby,” Jungkook sits up beside you, and you start to feel confined, their bodies like iron bars of a jail, keeping you with them for a life sentence you were beginning to think you deserved. “We love you, we made a mistake, we know that, but our love for you isn’t bad.”
“It’s the one redeemable thing about us Heaven,” Taehyung adds, looking up at you even with your head hanging low, trying to meet your eyes.
You feel your eyes water, you just ached, wanting to be drowned in their love but protected from their consequences. Last time you took the coward's way out, you ran away, this time you needed to create distance, but still work on the problem without bias, without their love infecting you until you could heal them and yourself.
“I don’t know where to go from here,” you confess, holding back a sob. Your mind starting to win the war it raged against your heart and all it wanted.
Their solemn expressions snap to you, the panic in their eyes piercing you.
“What do you mean, little love?” Jimin says warningly, you sounded like you were wanting to end your relationship but you surely knew better than anyone that it was impossible. They wouldn’t let you go if you tried.
“I think we need to go on a break,” you state, your voice strained from the heavy feeling of wanting to cry in your throat.
“Absolutely not,” Hoseok shakes his head, nostrils flaring at the suggestion.
“I’m not asking,” you say firmly.
“You don’t get to make that decision little love,” Namjoon’s lips twitch as he stops himself from growling, how dare you even think it. “You’re ours.”
You both stare each other down, neither willing to compromise.
“I’m mine,” you felt in control again, you hadn’t felt this way for so long, like your soul belonged to you, you weren’t just floating in their desires, you were your own person.
“We won’t let you leave,” Namjoon retorted, not denying your statement.
“I didn’t say I wanted to leave,” you shake your head, looking at each of them before your gaze returns to the leader of the syndicate, a challenge present in both your stares. “But you don’t get to touch me, or fuck me, or play your games.”
Every one of your new rules hit them like a punch to the gut, a cruel mocking thought passing through the air between them, this was the consequences of their fuck up, and they knew if they wanted to keep you, they would have to listen.
“One last thing,” you say after a lot of deliberating, a squeeze in your throat trying to stop you getting the words out, a deep frown set between your eyes. “I don’t want you to call me little love anymore.”
#how many times have I used this gif#bts au#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts ot7 x reader#bts x you#bts yandere!au#bts yandere#yandere bts#yandere jungkook#yandere yoongi#yandere seokjin#yandere namjoon#yandere taehyung#yandere jimin#yandere hoseok#bts mafia imagine#bts mafia!au#bts mafia#bts mafia series
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Before I Leave You (Pt.75)
(Sneak Peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Getting you home and into the nest proves to be a bit more of a challenge.
Tags: forced caretaking, feral omega's, m/c acts a little violent at the beginning, biting, blood, brief injury, kinda inspection kink if you squint, pre-heat, nudity, cramps, scenting, nesting, mindless fluff, hurt/comfort, omega/omega, possessive behavior, omegaspace, yoongi has slight self-esteem issues, manhandling,
W/c: 8.6k+
A/n: i feel guilty because i had to snip this chapter in half because there was simply too much stuff going on in my life at the moment. on the bright side i will try to get the second part out in one week, and i will also be very drunk at a engagement party when this is posted <3 gotta love that for me. in all honesty although it says 5pm...it will probably be posted a little earlier in the day so...be aware!
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
"I don't think her fingers are broken, fuck- do you think Jin would let me take her to the hospital?"
"You just got home Joonie-" Tae whines while Jimin shakes his head, handing over the gauze for Namjoon to wrap it.
"I know but-"
Instead of wiggling your fingers, you flick water in Namjoon's direction. It hits his face with an audible plop. The pack alpha flinches.
The rest of them just stare at you.
Namjoon wipes the water off of his face, slow and intentionally with every movement of his body. No one breathes and no one moves. You sense Namjoon's composure is about to slip. Good- you really want it too.
"See! Pups fine!” You flick water at Namjoon again. Grinning, dopy and so high on heat hormones that you think it is funny how his jaw rolls. Your hand isn't broken even if your knuckles are a little scraped up. Really- you'll be fine. They don't need to act like you're dying.
You try to do it again but Jimin grabs both of your wrists, holding you still. "That is the opposite of helpful." Tae snaps.
"Don't yell at me. I'm too tiny." You say, your voice that. Small.
Namjoon whips his hands on a kitchen cloth slowly. Staring you down without saying anything.
Yoongi runs his teeth over the back of your throat, hard enough that you feel it. He's not sure why you need the release of violence before your heat begins, but you do. Whatever instinct is currently making you act like a brat needs to come out one way or another.
Yoongi would rather it be now than when you're actually in heat.
Jimin and Yoongi keep you in one place as you try to lunge for Namjoon. You barely even jerk in their firm hold. Strong as they are. every one of them has more than half a foot on you, you'd never stand a chance really. Jimin holds you effortlessly- without even breaking a sweat. muscles and veins in his arms hardly flexing.
You want to bite him, teeth and gums aching for it. To feel the give of your alpha's under your teeth, under your claws. To bite and nip and see what he's made of.
It's like Namjoon can see the ache rocking through you, the violence of it in the honey tremble of your body. He cups your face so tenderly, and you almost want to hiss at him. Lip lifting in a soundless snarl. His voice is a gentle hush, a tone you are intimately familiar with.
it's the same tone of voice that has preceded every punishment and scolding you've ever received from the pack alpha. Every time he's ever coaxed you to take his knot (icky) or an orgasm (less icky). As he drags you close and speaks to you. Soft but firm. Gentle but unyielding.
"You are allowed to be needy, you are allowed to be small. You are allowed to need everything and anything and I will personally make sure that each one of those needs are fulfilled."
You snap your teeth at him, trying to bite his hand. He only just gets away. Your teeth brushing his knuckles playfully. You giggle, behind you, Yoongi snorts.
Instantly the pack hold your face, your jaw, not jimin but your mate and tae. Holding your mouth open. Fingers digging into your lower lip. Making your lips push out. You push at them but they hold you still. saliva pooling around a whine as you try to gnash your teeth again but are unsuccessful.
"Cute drooly puppy, so messy. what are we to do with you?" Tae's voice is a lethal purr.
You like it. You like feeling your alpha's strength, your mate's strength. Where they begin and you end. You want to test it want to make sure they can protect you.
For what? You can't say. You think it might have something to do with the terrible sensitivity between your thighs, the bleeding hot need slowly gripping you, a distant storm rumbling. But you're not sure.
"You need to make sure we're capable of protecting you through your heat? is that it pup?"
You whine, needy around Namjoon's fingers.
Tae keeps your mouth open and Namjoon taps his finger against your tongue, your lips, your teeth. Does he like how sharp they are? They feel awfully sharp in your mouth. Good omega, see? You want to tell him. Strong like you. Not a pup.
You don't whine and recoil the way an alpha would at being poked and prodded at. You fight one moment then go pliant the next. Letting him look, letting him touch and pinch your tongue between his fingers, loling it out and making it cute. Tears building at the corner of your eyes by how frustrated you feel, how much you want.
Tae grips your jaw, turning you this way and that, jimin's claws tangle with yours. yoongi digs his teeth into your scent gland, going sweeter and sweeter and sweeter with every moment.
Tae coo's and you hiss at her- or try too. Namjoon's finger pressing against your tongue stops you from doing anything but whine. Saliva pooling to the point where it almost drips, a little gross, but Namjoon's smile is darker, wickeder.
Namjoon strokes your tongue once, twice, and then a third time. Near your gag reflex but just barely. If you want to act like a disobedient pup, he's going to make you work for it.
You are the lowest ranking packmate, you can't expect your anger to be anything remarkable. they all coo at you- at your innocent imitation of your alpha's behavior.
Jimin smiles. agreeing, flashing his teeth at you that actually are sharp- actually could bite. you like them, like him. jimin holds you so well- so firmly you feel it in the small bones of your wrists. any other time you'd say it was uncomfortable, but it makes you leak slick, just a little. you know they can smell it.
"Cute little omega, acting like an alpha." Namjoon's thigh is between your legs, and you try and grind down on it. He stops you, holding your hips firm. You can't move more than a millimeter without one of them stopping you.
"No, none of that pup. If you want it you'll ask nicely, and you'll ask Jinnie first. I know you can be good."
But you don't want to be good, you want to fight.
~-~
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