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trivia-yandere · 1 month ago

Note

can we get a story with jungkook or yoongi or any of the members, with them saying, "you're such a handful." and then we say, "good thing you have two hands."

that concept could literally mean anything...and since im a yandere account...god damnit im in!

a man's world

you've been living in a man's world so long that you forgotten what it was like to just be a woman living in it.

word count: 10.172

warning: smut, character deaths, oral sex, fingering, dry humping, kissing, blood, torturing lolz, a bit yandere tendencies not too too much, but like yoongi's obsessed with the mc so, nipple sucking/pinching, impregnation kink, squirting, orgasm, unprotected sex, praising, ass-slapping, cowgirl position, overstimulation, creampie,

Though you can’t hear it, you can feel the way your heels click against the floor. The music is blaring loudly inside the club and it causes you to snarl. It was too humid, smelt of cheap perfume, alcohol and sex. You were too high end to be caught in a club like this, you think. You notice it by the way your eyes meet countless men who don’t know who you are, their eyes roaming your body as if they had a chance.

“You can’t go back there.”

There’s a hand on your bicep that stops you and almost instantly you yank it away. You hold your purse closer to you, your head whipping around to find a tall man staring down at you. His eyes are dark and he’s glaring.

“Back there,” the man juts his head towards the long hallway in the back of the crowded club. “is for employee’s only.”

“I’m well aware.” you snap back. “Where’s your boss?”

The man’s eyes narrow. “Not in.”

“Bullshit.” you snicker. You were growing irritated by the second. You didn’t have time to sit and chit chat with the less than.

You spin on your heels and venture down the hallway, the man hot on your trail. You are well familiar with this club and know down the hall to the right is where you’d find exactly who you were looking for. Your hand wraps around the knob and you slam it open. Just as you walk in, the man grasps you by your arm once more and yanks you back.

Yoongi watches as your free arm reaches back and punches Haru right between the eyes. The man, tall and bulky, stumbles back in shock. His lip twitches as he watches you continue to hit the tall man who is far too stunned to initially speak. He’s seated at his desk, cigarette between his fingers. Your scream, mixed with the music coming from down the hall, is echoing off of his walls.

“You stupid bitch-”

Though you were well-trained since a child alongside the very man you come to see - and more - you still had a bit of a disadvantage. You were told that men were naturally stronger than women and by the look in Haru’s eyes, he was done being nice with you. His fist tightens and before he has the chance to do anything, there’s a gunshot that rings through the air.

Haru gasps, a stinging in his shoulder. He falls back against the door, his hand clenching the gunshot wound that’s now oozing blood. You stand a bit straighter, rolling your eyes.

Yoongi’s right hand has his gun pointed in the air when you turn to meet his gaze. His cigarette hangs lazily from his lips, dark eyes meeting yours.

Footsteps gather in the hallway as Haru begins to sob. Soon, familiar faces crowd the room.

“What the fuck?”

Jungkook looks between you and Yoongi and immediately he has a clue.

“I thought we had rules?”

Jimin’s arms are crossed as he steps into the room. Haru is bleeding out and he couldn’t care less.

“Y/N.” Jimin nods his head towards you. “What a pleasure.”

“Can we get someone to get him out of here?” Jin sounds disgusted. “He’s bleeding all over the floor and I don’t like the smell of iron.”

Yoongi drops his gun onto the table and proceeds to take his seat at the desk.

“Ah, isn’t it the infamous Y/N.” Taehyung leans against the open door. “What is it this time, hyung? Did Haru try to get with her?” he snickers. His eyes look down the hall. “Take him somewhere, please. He’s annoying me with all that whimpering he’s doing.”

Yoongi exhales the smoke from his nose, eyes darting around the room.

“He was going to hit her.” Yoongi answers coolly.

Jungkook furrows his brows, but he remains quiet. You were a woman, sure, but he’s watched you take down men bigger than Haru before. You weren’t the primadonna Yoongi treats you at times.

“Y/N, what can I help you with?” Yoongi questions, his attention turning to you. “Drink?”

“I suppose I’ll take my leave.” Jimin announces. Whatever you wanted - especially if you came to Yoongi solely and not all of them - meant that it wasn’ for his ears. “I have inventory to take care of.”

The room is silent once more as Jin was the last to leave, closing the door behind him. Yoongi awaits your response, pouring you a glass of whisky to match his own. He motions for you to sit in the seat across from him, his cigarette smoke dancing in the air.

You drop your purse on the desk, uncaring if a few items drop due to the weight of it. Your eyes are hard and glaring and with that, excitement runs through Yoongi’s body.

“My men,” you begin, voice cold and laced with venom. “are dead.”

Yoongi picks up the glass and places it against his lips. He takes a sip, eyes watching you. “And you’re telling me…because?” he murmurs a response before taking a sip.

Instantly, your hand slaps the glass out of Yoongi’s palm. It crashes against a nearby wall, sending liquid flying everywhere.

“My men are dead and I know you motherfuckers-”

Yoongi stands, his chair scraping against the floor. His face comes closer to yours, so close that you can smell the liquor already on his breath.

“Bangtan didn’t kill your men, Y/N.” Yoongi hisses.

“Bull. Shit.” your teeth grits.

You were only 21 when you inherited this empire from your father - much to your dismay and possibly that of those working for him. You weren’t a man, you always heard. This was a man’s world you were in - the drugs, the trafficking, the murder. A woman didn’t belong in it, and yet it all belonged to you now.

Your father didn’t have any more children after you. You often thought about how easier your life would be if you were a boy growing up. You didn’t have time to think about what the other girls did growing up - the birthday parties with friends, sleepovers. You didn’t attend a school so those homecomings or prom you’d see on T.V. weren’t for you. The birthday party you begged your father to give you were littering with the same gang members, murderers and drug traffickers you grew up alongside.

Now here you stand, years later. A shell of your former self. You contemplate if you lack the natural empathy and softness you witness other women have. As a child, you told yourself by this age, you’d be married with kids - not leading a syndicate. Marriage and children appeared to be out of the question as you couldn’t stand a man for longer than 3 minutes - the misogyny, the audacity and overall incompetence.

“Bangtan and Deathrow,” you roll your eyes; partly because you hated the family names chosen by people who were dead now. “for years now we have been rivals. However,” Yoongi’s pink tongue coats his lips. “we have never harmed you or your men.”

You inhale deeply. You stretch the kink in your neck before responding. “Deathrow and Bangtan are the only families that run anything around here.” you grit. “And I have a dozen dead bodies and no one to account for them.”

Yoongi’s eyes glances down to your own lips. He’s fascinated that even when you surround yourself with such heinous activities, you haven’t given yourself up. The heels, the light makeup, and not a single hair out of place.

Yoongi was also a bit drunk and he shouldn’t be growing hard right now - especially not when you’re glaring daggers at him.

“You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.” Yoongi’s voice softens a bit.

Your eyes glance away.

Things were complicated when it came to you and Yoongi - or the rest of them. While Yoongi had 6 other people to rely on with equal responsibility, you only had yourself. You couldn’t afford to have a day off when you had everything your own family has worked hard for on the line. The people who worked under you had their own mouths to feed and juggling it all was far too much for one person to handle.

The feud between Deathrow and Bangtan was once a partnership. You grew up alongside Yoongi and the rest of them. Jungkook is just a couple years younger than you. You recall the way you would wrestle with him in your youth. It was Hoseok who showed you how to shoot a gun for the first time and you trained alongside him instead of you both attending middle school.

The rivalry began with an unknown traitor that divided both sides and though you remained cordial with the boys, now men, you grew up alongside, it was evident where your loyalty and theirs must lie.

“You got my birthday gift.” Yoongi states. His eyes almost didn’t catch it, but you’re wearing the necklace around your neck. The diamond-studded chair with an oval-cut gemstone; your birthstone. It was a gift he had sent to you on your birthday and though he had not expected you to say anything in return, he had hoped you kept it.

Your body warms at the realization that you hadn’t taken off the necklace prior to coming. You swallow a bit, your throat aching.

Yoongi rounds the corner of his desk warily. He would never hurt you and he doubts you would either, but he doesn’t know where your mind is now and he doesn’t want to set you off.

“There’s been a little trouble around here, as well.” Yoongi murmurs. His hand touches your arm, slightly bringing you closer to him. “A few of our own men have died. It seems we may have a bit of competition.”

The scar on Yoongi’s right eye is the constant reminder of the history you and he shared. Without thinking of your actions, your hands lift to touch Yoongi’s cheek. Your fingers slide across the long, red scar, the memories of that time flooding back to you. The way Yoongi’s lips pressed against your warm skin, his large hands sliding up your sides. Those same lips kissing down your chest, to your stomach and right between your legs. His tongue flickers between your folds, his fingers diving right into you and pumping in a way that only he knows how.

Then, the memories come crashing down. Your bedroom door crashes open and you’re forced to cover your naked body. Your father doesn’t bother to look down at you and instead focuses his entire attention to Yoongi, men surrounding your bedroom and making their way towards Yoongi.

“What do you want me to do?” Yoongi asks. His larger hand places itself over your hand. It causes you to come back to reality - the present.

You blink, removing your hand from his face. Yoongi doesn’t like it; he feels a breeze run through him.

“I want you to find out who killed my men.” you say, voice hardening. “And take them out.”

Yoongi furrows his brows, a smirk forming onto his lips. He tilts his head at you. You were so cute when you demanded bloodshed.

“You’re too beautiful to be running a syndicate, Y/N.” Yoongi tells you. He has the urge to hold you like he used to, but he holds himself back. “You deserve to be doted on.”

“Stop fucking playing with me, Yoongi.” you hiss, eyes darkening. “I have product to move and the men that were supposed to do that are being buried. I have to make arrangements for their families. My fucking product-”

“Is it stolen? Ours, as well.” Yoongi quips.

“-and I don’t have time for you to be fucking flirting with me!”

Yoongi cracks a smile and instantly, your hands crash against his chest.You shove him as hard as you could.

“Yoongi-”

“Your issue isn’t with me, Y/N.” Yoongi embraces you, unphased by your outburst. “You and I have a common enemy.”

Yoongi’s cologne is citrusy and musk and instantly you calm down. You want to melt in his arms and have your worries go away, but you cannot.

“Why won’t you let me help you?” Yoongi questions.

“I came here for your help.” you whisper - and he has to know how difficult it was for you to do this.

“I know. That isn’t what I meant.” Yoongi holds you closer. He doesn’t want to let you go - not like he was forced to. His eyes peer into yours. “You’re stressed and you’re doing it all alone. Let me help you.” he murmurs. “Let us help you.”

Yoongi’s nose is tickling yours and his lips are only a breath away. You’ve once again found yourself in this predicament; right in his arms. You inhale his scent once more and then sigh.

“I missed you.” Yoongi speaks.

“I didn’t come here for that.”

“I know.” Yoongi grins. “You come to use me like you always do.”

You’re silent, eyes unblinking as you look at Yoongi.

“That’s what you do. You come in here and demand something because you know I’ll do whatever you ask.” Yoongi continues. His arms tighten around your embrace.

“So…I’m a user?” you snort with a roll of your eyes.

“No.” Yoongi shakes his head. “I’m a man and I’m supposed to be a provider.”

You’re quiet.

“And I’ll keep providing for you, Y/N…all you have to do is let me.”

Yoongi’s lips are soft and you instantly melt against them. You’re unsure how much you truly missed him until you finally had him in your hands. The years you’ve gone by keeping him at a distance has led him to this very moment now.

Yoongi doesn’t care about anything on his desk anymore. He gladly hoists you up onto the desk and forces your legs apart, your skirt rising up. His tongue dances around with yours, large hands cupping your hips to assure you remain close.

It takes Yoongi forever to remove his lips from yours, but when he does it only trails down the side of your face to your jaw, then chin. Your breathing increases as he reaches your neck. His warm tongue circles the nape of your neck, a low groan coming from his throat.

“Y/N…”

Your breathing hitches at the sound of your name coming from Yoongi’s lips - so deep and vulnerable, yet dripping with years full of lust.

“What do you want from me, Yoon?”

Yoon, you haven’t called him that in years.

“You know what I want.” Did you?

Your legs tighten around Yoongi’s waist, bringing him closer. You can feel him melt in your embrace. As much as you try to hide it, there isn’t a point in lying to yourself in saying that you didn’t want Yoongi, either. You missed his hands on you; touching you in ways only he knew how to.

“I’ll give you what you want,” you sigh, your hands on his shoulders squeezing. You can feel Yoongi’s bulge right at your core. You roll your hips just to tease him. “find out who’s behind our missing product.”

Yoongi inhales deeply for a moment, eyes squeezed shut. He was going to do what you asked of him, regardless if he was involved or not. It’s what he always did for you, no matter the rivalry between both families. “You’re such a handful.” Yoongi exhales, yet he wouldn’t have you any other way.

“Good thing you have two hands.”

With the same two hands, Yoongi had worked overtime. It took a week for him to find out just who was behind it, but there wasn’t a time limit. In the meantime, he had allowed you to borrow some of his men to move your product - an action that would’ve been frowned upon if he wasn’t who he was in the family.

Jin watches amused with how ruthless Yoongi could be when it comes to you. The man, often lazy and would rather sit behind the scenes and direct others to do his work, was now getting his own hands dirty. That’s what Hoseok and Jungkook were for, yet he joins the younger men just because you asked him to.

“To think it’s been…” Jimin does the math in his head. “...what? Six years?” he asks Jin. He assembles the stolen drugs into duffle bags.

“Just about.” Jin responds, the screaming of the tortured man nothing but background noise.

Six years since Yoongi and you were…anything. It was evident that Yoongi had set his sight on you since youth; silently, of course. He lingered around you for too long for anyone to not get the hint. It only increased as you grew older and grew into your own feminine figure that Yoongi found himself having to show others that he was serious about courting you.

That meant shooting someone right in the leg - but other’s got the point. The downfall of Bangtan and Deathrow only meant the downfall of you and Yoongi’s relationship; he grew grumpier, more silent and care little about anything unless it directly involved you.

“We need to get information from him, hyung,” Jungkook sighs, watching the way Yoongi appears to leave the man's head underneath the running water far too long. “not just torture him.”

“He’s probably intimidated since it’s three of us.” Hoseok calls, leaning against the wall.

“Probably.” Yoongi calls. He shuts off the water and turns his sights to Jungkook and Hoseok. “Get the rest of the drugs and weapons and load them in the truck.”

Hoseok knits his brows. “But-”

“Fine.” Jungkook shrugs, locking eyes with Hoseok. There wasn’t a point in arguing with Yoongi now. He know just as well as the rest of them that he was going to stop; his adoration for you far exceeded his own sanity.

Once alone, Yoongi shoves the man back into the seat. He grabs his pocket knife and undoes the robe around one wrist. He then slams it against the table. “Okay,” Yoongi murmurs, dark eyes locking in with terrified ones. “I want all the names that were in charge of the job.”

The man shakes his head. “Please-”

“It wasn’t a choice.” Yoongi snickers. “You…upset someone I care about.” the cold metal of the plastic knife presses against the man's cheek. “And I’m going to right this wrong, okay? Now right before one of them died, they said it was around five of them.”

Yoongi removes the knife from the terrified man’s cheek and proceeds to place it against the man’s thumb. “You have five fingers. Let’s count down the names, shall we?”

“P-Please, I don’t know-”

A blood curdling scream echoes off of the walls. Blood shoots out from the man's thumb, painting the wooden table crimson.

“Name’s.” Yoongi deadpans. He’s already making his way towards the index.

“Wu-”

Index finger is the next to go - only because he was sick of playing games.

“Shinra!” the man suddenly belts, the veins on his neck pulsing at losing another finger.

Yoongi is covered in blood by the time he’s done, but he’s satisfied. He would never consider himself blood thirsty. He hated getting dirty. Jungkook and Hoseok were always on this type of job - but if it was something you’d ask him to do (and you had) he had no issues.

“There has to be another way, hyung.” Jungkook says as Yoongi emerges, soaked in blood. “Flowers or something. You’re covered in blood.”

“Y/N isn’t exactly a normal woman, now is she?” Jin calls from outside. He slams the trunk close. “Though I don’t think she called for so much blood shed.”

Of course, however, Yoongi wasn’t going to listen. He was told to handle the problem and the only way he knew how was bloodshed.

“Who’s coming with me?” Yoongi questions.

“Now?” Jungkook lifts his brows. “You don’t want to change first?”

“No.” Yoongi deadpans, his eyes narrowing. He glances around to the faces of his brothers. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Have you asked for anything in return of Y/N yet?” Jin asks. “Don’t you think you need a little…more?” Yoongi swallows. He shrugs his shoulders.

“There can’t be any rivalry, anymore. Not on Bangtans end, right?” Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Why not join forces again? It would save all of us a headache.”

“And Y/N could relax, as well. She’ll have our help and won't have to lead alone.”

The quiet part doesn’t need to be said aloud, Jin thinks. Having you closer meant that Yoongi would be more at ease.

“I have plans.” Yoongi answers. “You know I cannot go to Y/N empty handed. I have to do what she asks first.”

“Of course.” Jimin shrugs one shoulder. “Do you need any more help, hyung?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I’ll deal with the rest alone. We should get whatever product we have back to the warehouse.”

“I agree.” Hoseok nods. “Bangtan and Death Row nearly lost millions in profit because of…what do they call themselves?”

“Who cares?” Yoongi snorted - because after today, there wouldn’t be any of them standing to utter their name.

Yoongi’s seats are leather and of course the blood would surely stain them, but he doesn’t care. He could get another car if it came down to it. He was on a mission; a hunt. He wouldn’t go back to you empty handed like he promised and he has five names on the list who he had to deal with prior to returning to you.

You know of Yoongi’s presence immediately. You hadn’t talked to him much in the week that it took for him to handle the problem. Your driveway is long and it allows you enough time to walk down the staircase and meet him at the door after you buzz him in.

From the large, oval-shaped window you can see Yoongi get out of the SUV, door slamming behind him. He appears relaxed, glasses over his eyes. There’s a breeze in the air that causes his dark tresses to dance in it. It’s nearly an hour before sunset and Yoongi’s skin glows beneath the orangey tint that makes your heart leap.

Your eyes tear away as he begins to gather something from his passenger seat. Your eyes turn to the large mirror in your foyer and ponder if what you were wearing was appropriate. This was Yoongi, after all, and though it’s been years, he’s seen it all already. That, and you weren’t exactly expecting him tonight so the nightgown shouldn’t appear as trying too hard.

You meet Yoongi at the door, opening it just wide enough for you to see him and vice versa.

“Y/N.”

“Yoongi.” you respond. “You could’ve had me meet you at the warehouse.”

Yoongi knows you aren’t upset with his presence here. Your eyes glance down to his hands, now noticing his left is holding a small, leather bag and his right a bouquet of flowers.

Glancing back up at Yoongi, you furrow your brows.

“Can I come in?” Yoongi asks, voice cool and relaxed.

You open the door wider and Yoongi takes his invitation. As the door closes behind him, Yoongi turns to face you. Your nightgown is black and silk and he notices it hugs your curves perfectly, but he didn’t come here to dwell.

“Why are you holding flowers?”

Yoongi holds out the bouquet for you, his own eyes matching the stoicness of your own.

Your hands are trembling when you grasp them, an embarrassed jolt flowing through your body. You avoid his gaze.

“I handled our problem.” Yoongi speaks first. He lifts the small, leather bag and holds it with both hands. He slowly opens it - as if to build tension and anticipation. “And they are no longer a threat.”

Yoongi doesn’t care for these men, but you were an empathetic person. He knows you’d want to know more about these men, and what better way than to find out who they truly were than by checking their fingerprints?

Severed thumbs sit inside the small bag right on top of ice. You could laugh right now at how cheesy Yoongi can be at times. Slowly, he closes the bag and tilts his head.

“They’re a small organization that holds no real power.” Yoongi goes on.

“Are they dead or just missing fingers?”

You’re positive you know the answer. Yoongi wasn’t one to allow anyone to walk free - especially if it concerned you.

“Dead.” Yoongi shrugs. There’s a small table in the foyer that Yoongi places the bag on. His eyes meet yours and a smile appears on his lips. “You’re still wearing the necklace.”

Your palms squeeze the bouquet. Licking your lips, you shrug. “It was a gift, was it not?”

You turn on your heels, making your way the opposite way and towards the kitchen. Yoongi follows you, allowing his eyes to wander your body freely as now it was just you and him.

You had a vase around here somewhere so you can put these flowers in.

“I suppose I owe you.” you say over the running water. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you right now and there’s a bit of excitement that runs through you.

“Do you?”

You turn the water off and turn around, vase in hand. You go towards the island and begin to place the bouquet of flowers, one by one inside the vase. Yoongi notices a small grin on your lips as you assemble them to your liking.

“You still like sunflowers.” Yoongi notes. “I’m glad that hasn’t changed.”

Yoongi recalls the time you said that you didn’t prefer roses as they were often clique. Yet, you also never received flowers before as you weren’t in the lifestyle to receive them from anyone - not unless it was on a gravestone. But you stated that if anything, you’d prefer sunflowers.

Your hands slide off of the bouquet and you face him. Yoongi is watching you watch him. “I haven’t thanked you.” you murmur softly. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to.”

You step closer, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He must’ve showered right before coming here as he smells entirely too clean; not a complaint in the slightest.

“Of course I do.” you murmur. “You helped me with my problem.”

“You knew I would. That’s why you came to me.”

You don’t need to respond as he was correct. You always knew Yoongi would do what you ask - which made going to him easier for you. It was a guarantee that he would get it done with no questions asked; everytime.

“How long can you stay?” you question, eyes blinking up at him. Your fingers dance on the back of his neck softly.

“However long you’d have me.” Yoongi hums, his nose touching yours. ”What are you trying to give me?”

You swallow, lifting so your lips were ghosting his. “Whatever you want.” you murmur.

“Whatever?”

You nod your head, eyes slowly closing. You’re expecting his lips to meet yours in the same passionate kiss you and he shared a week prior. Instead, Yoongi pushes himself away from you, his warmth immediately gone.

Slowly, your eyes open to find Yoongi going through his pant pockets. “Yoon-”

Your mouth immediately shuts when Yoongi’s fingers take out a small, square box. He opens it, the diamond ring shining back at you. It’s oval cut with surrounding smaller rings around the base.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you hiss as Yoongi begins to lower to his knee. “Get up.”

“What?” Yoongi furrows a brow. “Why? Isn’t this what girls typically want?”

Your eyes widen and you stare at Yoongi as if he’s insane. He had to be.

“You thought I wanted you to get on your fucking knees with a ring?!”

Yoongi blinks.

You jerk your neck, waiting for a response.

“Y/N,” Yoongi coughs, cheeks dusting red. “will you-”

“No!” you hiss, your hands forming fists and body heating up. You yank Yoongi’s shoulders and force him onto his feet. “What-”

“I was trying to be romantic.” Yoongi snaps the ring box close and sighs. “Jin told me-”

“Your first mistake was listening to Jin.” you grumble with rolled eyes.

“My first mistake was assuming you’d listen to me.” Yoongi retorts. “I don’t want to just fuck you as payment, Y/N. You aren’t some whore.”

You were growing nervous underneath Yoongi’s gaze.

“I want Bangtan and Death Row to be allies again.” Yoongi continues. “I want us,” he waves his hands between the two of you. “to be…more.”

“There is no us.”

Yoongi doesn’t blink when the words leave your mouth, but he visibly stiffens.

“There can’t be.”

“Why not?” Yoongi protests. “Am I not good enough for you? I’m only good when you want to use me?”

You’re taken aback by the venom in Yoongi’s voice. He never spoke to you in such a tone.

“Do you not know how many men I’ve killed for you?” Yoongi hisses. “I drop whatever I’m doing to come to your beck and call and you’re going to tell me that there isn’t anything between us? That there can’t be?”

You’re unsure how to respond, but Yoongi is already stepping closer. His presence, until now, has never been threatening to you. His eyes are wide and angered and they’re directed towards you.

“It’s not you-”

“If you say it’s not you, it’s me,” Yoongi chuckles bitterly. “I might just scream.”

“It is me, Yoon.” you hiss. “I…you want me to be a fucking housewife. I don’t even know how to cook-”

“I do.” Yoongi shrugs. “Do you think I don’t have enough money for a private chef?” he scoffs.

You bite the inside of your lip.

“I…I don’t even clean-”

“Isn’t that what’s the maid for?” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders again. He wasn’t going to allow you to excuse yourself from anything you’d say.

“I-”

“I don’t care what you can or cannot do, Y/N.” Yoongi interrupts. “Have I not proved myself worthy to you for years now?”

“It’s not about…” you trail off, closing your eyes and letting out a soft sigh. “...you know it isn’t about that.”

“Then please enlighten me, Y/N.” Yoongi’s frustration was seeping through. He felt as though his head was going to explode. “You know how I feel about you. You know I love you.”

Your eyes flutter open to look at Yoongi’s. His stoic eyes stare right back at you.

“You know I love you.” Yoongi repeats, voice softening. “So why won’t you allow me to take care of you? You don’t even want to do all of this.”

Yoongi knows you like the back of his hand. He understands that you were brought into this life to one day take over an entire syndicate, even if it wasn’t something you wanted. Your father’s death came entirely too sudden and overnight, you had to grow up and handle it all. But he knows the real you.

“You think jumping straight to marriage is what I want?” you couldn’t help but snicker.

Yoongi straightens his shoulders. “Probably not.” he admits, shrugging a bit. “You told me that you wanted to be married before.”

“When I was a dumb teenager?” your lip twitches. “I-”

“You told me you wanted to go on a date and experience a normal life. Outside of this.” Yoongi interrupts. “So let’s do it.”

“Do what?” You blink.

“Go…on a date?” Yoongi clears his throat. There’s a tint of redness forming onto his cheeks.

“You’ve never asked a girl on a date before, have you?” you scoff, but you’d be lying if you said your own cheeks weren’t warm.

“And you’ve never been asked on a date.” Yoongi retorts, a grin forming onto his lips. “So we’re one of the same.”

For a moment, you and Yoongi are silent as the two of you stare at one another. Your body is warm, your heart fluttering stupidly like it had when you were a teenager whenever Yoongi was around. It involved sneaking around a lot to assure your father never caught on to what you were doing.

You bite your lip, taking a deep breath. What could go wrong?

“I guess…a date wouldn’t hurt.” you murmur.

“Good.” Yoongi couldn’t help the smile that forms onto his lips. “How about now?”

“Now?” your eyebrows lift. That didn’t give you enough time to procrastinate in your closet if Yoongi was already here waiting for you.

“What could go wrong?”

Turns out, a lot could go wrong on a date.

For normal people, a lot could’ve been the restaurant being booked for hours. Or traffic. Maybe even cancelling on the other person.

However, you and Yoongi weren’t normal people. A normal dinner date turned into an ambush entirely, bullets flying past the two of you in such rapid speed that it took a second too long for Yoongi to even be prepared for it.

“It’s just my shoulder.” Yoongi grunts, a hand against his bleeding wound. He was breathing heavily, his right hand - the same side he was just shot in - currently holds the gun.

“I fucking hate you.” you seeth at Yoongi, a look of pure panic on your face. Your own heart was beating rapidly and tears brimmed your eyes. “I told you I should have brought my gun you idiot-”

Another shot rings out, this time from Yoongi. You’re unsure how he’s managing to still fire from behind the car while bleeding out.

It was Yoongi’s idea for you to not bring your own protection for once. He stated that you wouldn’t need it - an attempt to slowly wean you off of your mafiosa lifestyle that you were born into. Now you were regretting believing his words - not because you never felt safe around Yoongi, but it was also about helping Yoongi when he was in need.

“Give me the gun.” you demand, wiping your pathetic tears away. Why were you on the verge of crying when you were you?

Yoongi glances at you, frown deepening.

“Y/N-”

“I wasn’t asking.” you hiss. Yoongi had managed to take down two men, but there were still two left sending out shots - and you were beyond pissed.

Yoongi hands you his gun with a stoic expression. You had sense called your own men for backup and knowing Bangtan, they weren’t far behind. You are unaware if the men that ambushed you had more on the way and quite frankly, you didn’t want to stay to find out.

You’re crouching around the car, gun in your hands. Your eyes zone in on one man behind another car, his eyes set on where Yoongi is behind his car, waiting for another shot to give out.

You scoff, raising your gun and closing one eye before shooting. The bullet shoots right through his head, blood splattering as his body falls limp.

“You assholes ruined my fucking date!” you hiss angrily, aiming the gun at the other shooter, hitting him right in the shoulder. As his gun drops, you rise to your feet and begin to storm towards him.

Yoongi wouldn’t consider himself a completely dominant man. He was alright with having a woman by his side as an equal - a woman like you. You knew how to lead just as much as he did. His eyes watch the way your heels click against the concrete as you storm towards the huffing, bleeding man. Your eyes are glaring directly at him, hand pointing the gun right into his face.

“Please-”

Yoongi jerks when the gun slams against the man's face and he’s sent flying against the concrete. His breathing increased - this wasn’t the time. His pants grow tight as he watches you continue to slam your gun against his face. He licks his lips at how amazing your legs looked from here - how your dress makes your ass appear even greater.

Yoongi exhales, getting up from leaning against his car and making his way towards you. His shoulder is throbbing and he was bleeding at an alarming pace but it was nothing he’s never felt before.

“Who,” SLAM. “the fuck” SLAM. “are you” SLAM. SLAM. “working for!”

Blood shoots from the man's mouth and Yoongi is close enough to wrap a hand onto your waist.

“If you keep beating him he won’t be able to talk.” Yoongi murmurs, but he admits you look entirely beautiful when you are aggressively upset. “Hoseok can’t be far. Him and Jungkook would get the information out of him.”

“Fuck.” you hiss one last time before slamming the gun against the man's already bloodied and bruised face. “We gotta stop the bleeding-”

“I’m fine.” Yoongi shakes his head with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You’re obviously not fine, Yoongi.” you deadpan, turning to him. “I can see the blood dripping from your shoulder. Do I look like an idiot?”

Yoongi’s lip twitches and he holds back a laugh. He doesn’t want to appear as if he was taking you for a joke - he wasn’t.

Tires squeal to a stop and Yoongi turns his head to the sound of it. Just as Hoseok and Jungkook arrive, so do a few of your own men.

“What do we have here?” Hoseok asks, slamming his car door open and his eyes roam around the bloodied scene.

“Looks like we have a bigger problem than stolen product.” Jungkook answers. He’s holding rope in his hands.

“Miss.”

One of your men come besides you, his eyes examining you. ‘“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” you murmur. Jungkook was wrapping the man - who’s in and out of consciousness, with the rope. “Clean this mess up.” you say, putting Yoongi’s gun back on safety. “And figure out who these motherfuckers are. Immediately.”

“Yes.”

Yoongi swallows, his eyes roaming to the way your hips sway as you walk towards his car and open the backseat. You’re ripping apart your own cardigan for him to wrap his shoulder for the time being.

Yoongi watches you as you walk back towards him, taking the ripped cloth towards his shoulder. He’s silent, but he’s upset that the date has been ruined. For the first time, you and he had the chance to be normal for a few hours - and it was ruined by reality.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes glance up at Yoongi as you tighten the cloth underneath his arm pit. He was lucky that the bullet didn’t penetrate through.

“Why are you apologizing for being shot?” you murmur. Hoseok and Jungkook had speeded down the road and your men were in the middle of cleaning the mess.

“I wanted for us to go on a date.” Yoongi snickers. “And be normal for once in our lives.”

“It isn’t your fault that we’ve made enemies.” you pat his shoulder gently, your lips forming a small grin. “It comes with the job.”

Yoongi’s tongue coats his lips, feline-like eyes watching you still. “You’re very beautiful, Y/N.” he says, tone deep. “Especially when you’re angry.”

You roll your eyes. “Pull yourself together, Yoongi.” you say. “You’re the only man that gets horny after being shot.”

“Ignore the fact that a bullet grazed me.” Yoongi says. He begins to follow you back to his car. “And concentrate on the fact that I can appreciate the way you handle a gun and beat up men.”

Yoongi rounds the corner to plop down into the driver seat. He notices your eyes on him. You want to speak up and offer to drive, but you don’t - you know he’s going to deny it.

Within a half an hour, you and Yoongi are back in your home. You have him seated on your couch while you tend to his wound. Hospitals were always out of the question which is why there were paid medics on hand. Yoongi, however, refused to see anyone. Instead, he’s chugging a bottle of whiskey as you dab a rag soaked in alcohol onto his wound to disinfect it.

“You’ve gotten yourself drunk in under an hour.” you deadpan with a shake of your head.

Yoongi, eyes glossy, tilts his head.

“I wished you would’ve gotten yourself checked out-”

“Y/N,” Yoongi interrupts you. He takes another swig of whiskey, the burning sensation dying down. “will you marry me?”

You dropped the rag onto the couch beside him and sigh. “You’re on that again.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” Yoongi grumbles, his eyes squinting at you.

“You’re going to force me into marriage?” You’re amused now. Drunk Yoongi was always funny. His shoulders would relax and he’d let loose more than he was when he was sober.

“Of course not!” Yoongi gasps, then hums. “...I would just keep asking until you said yes.”

Your fingers tap lightly against his shoulder as you smile his way. It causes Yoongi’s heart to jump and he takes another swig of whiskey in an attempt to hide his red cheeks.

“Yoongi…?” you murmur, your fingertips stopping at Yoongi’s neck. He’s warm, and when he feels your fingers against his bare skin, the hair on his body rises.

“Y-Yes?”

Yoongi wants to shoot himself in his good shoulder for stuttering like he was a school boy.

Your fingers dance up the side of his cheek to touch the scar. It’s embedded into his skin, smooth to the touch. “It seems like everytime you’re with me, you get hurt.”

Yoongi craves your touch. He settles his cheek against your palm, glossy eyes watching you.

“Who says I’m hurt?” Yoongi responds.

Your fingers trail along his scar and he recalls the day it happened - the way your father had slashed his eye as a mere warning. He recalls the way he screamed as blood trailed down his face, but even then he didn’t care about the pain that caused the half of his face to throb. He hears your cries and pleads for your father to leave him alone.

“If it means being with you, I take whatever.” Yoongi shrugs.

Your thumb traces Yoongi’s lips now, not realizing just how close you and he are. You missed being this close with him. It reminds you of when you were younger when life was a bit easier.

“What are you scared of exactly?” Yoongi speaks. He softly nuzzles himself closer to you. If he was sober, he would’ve felt a bit of pain coming from his shoulder. “Do you think I cannot protect you? I’ll die-”

“Yoongi, please shut up.” you press your thumb against his lips to silence him. You let out a soft giggle. “Everytime you get drunk, you go into a drunken speech of passion.”

Yoongi makes a sound with his throat.

You sit a bit straighter before going to sit into his lap. Your dress rises up a bit and instantly, Yoongi’s hands place themselves onto your thighs. He rubs his hands against your soft thighs, a low moan coming from his lips.

“We can talk about marriage later.” you say. Your nose rubs against his. “For now, let me thank you.”

Yoongi’s cock is dangerously hard against your clothed pussy. His breathing increases when your lips kiss the corner of his lips, teasing him.

“I know I can be a handful.” you murmur against his skin, your hips rolling.

Your lips press against his softly, but Yoongi is determined to taste you entirely. He deepens it, his nails digging into your hips to keep you perfectly in place. Your lips are so soft and sweet, your gloss tasting like mangos. Your perfumed aroma captivates him entirely and he doesn’t want you to move away from him.

Yoongi’s lips are covered in your gloss when your lips remove to breathe. His lips press against your chin to your jaw.

“It’s okay.” Yoongi kisses along your neck now. “It’s good I have two hands, right?”

The kissing grows heavy. Your hands rub along his chest while his hands roam up and down your sides. Your hips continue to jerk needily to feel more of him.

Yoongi is grateful for the alcohol running through his system so that he could appreciate you fully without feeling any pain. His cock is already painfully erect and waiting to be let free to feel you - but he’ll wait for the right time. His tongue pokes out to run along the smooth skin of your neck, dipping lower and lower.

“I’ve wanted to take this dress off of you since you put it on.” Yoongi says, muffled against your skin. His tongue runs along your collarbone and goes down to your breast.

“You could’ve had me naked hours ago.” you retort, head rolling back when you feel Yoongi’s warm tongue reach your breast. “But you wanted to waste time on a date.”

“It wasn’t a waste of time.” Yoongi retorts. His hands roam upwards to touch the straps of your dress and begin to pull them down. “I want to take you on many dates and show you off. Show everyone who you belong to.”

Yoongi was a possessive person and even without stating it aloud, he has claimed you as his countless times. When the straps fall down, his breath hitches at the sight of your bare breast. Your nipples are erect and both of his large hands grasp them entirely.

“I’m yours?” you scoff, yet you continue to roll your hips. Your right hand places itself above Yoongi’s. “I didn’t agree to marry you.” “You don’t have to.” Yoongi responds quickly. “You can keep denying me, but I’ll never allow another man to have you.”

Yoongi’s tongue wraps onto your erect nipple, rolling it against his tongue. He suckles needily, wishing he could do this forever - be in this blissful scenario where it was just you and him and no one else to interrupt it. Or shoot at him.

“I’ve killed for you already.” Yoongi says when he allows your nipple to pop from his mouth. “If I can’t have you, no one can.”

You bite your lip. That obviously is a red flag in itself. Yoongi had threatened countless men - a part of Bangtan and Deathrow - and had killed for you, both requested or not. If you were a normal girl living a normal life, it would frighten you how obsessive he could be.

But you established that you weren’t normal and neither is he. You were both born into this world of murder, drugs, sex and trafficking - so it excites you that Yoongi doesn’t go down without a fight.

“You can be happy with me.” Yoongi wraps your other nipple into his mouth. He pinches your free nipple between his index and thumb. Your hand roams his dark tresses, keeping him close against your chest. Your pussy is throbbing, Yoongi’s own hips meeting you halfway as you’re grinding.

“I can give you the wedding you wanted. I can give you the babies you’ve talked about.”

Yoongi’s hands wrap around to unzip your dress. He then proceeds to slide it down your bare back, shuddering at your naked skin.

“You’d look so pretty pregnant, Y/N. It’ll be hard to get you to stay at home and not pistol whip anyone,” Yoongi jokes, tugging your dress down. “but it can be done.”

You roll your eyes, but Yoongi’s words cause that familiar throb between your legs.

“You think about getting me pregnant a lot?” you raise a brow.

“Of course I do. Don’t ask me dumb questions.”

Yoongi forces you up to remove your dress. It falls onto the ground by your feet. Your panties are basic cotton grey and it’s easily able to see the wetness right between your legs.

“You’re already so wet, Y/N. Your pussy wants to feel me.”

Yoongi’s cocky, his fingers cupping your pussy entirely to feel just how wet you are. He licks his lips, groaning. “You want to be bred, Y/N. You’re just stubborn.”

Yoongi begins to tug at your panties hastily. His mouth salivates. He hasn’t tasted you in years and being a patient man has done nothing but make him insatiable.

“You want to get me pregnant so bad, Yoongi. You’re a bit too obsessed.”

“You know that, right? Is that why you constantly tease me?” Yoongi dips his fingers between your wet folds. He shakes his head at just how sopping wet you were. “You roll your hips, talk to me a certain way.”

“I talk to you like a dog.” you deadpan, a soft moan releasing immediately after.

“And that’s what I love about you.” Yoongi brings his fingers into his mouth and grunts.

Yoongi pushes you onto the couch and falls onto his knees. He had to taste you.

You yelp when your legs are forced apart and Yoongi immediately begins to devour you. He’s completely starved, having missed your touch and taste for years. He doesn’t care about being quiet - you and he were alone. He suckles and smacks his lips against your wet pussy without a care in the world.

You’re squealing loudly as Yoongi’s head bobs back and forth. Your hand grips his hair, eyes watching as he devours you. His right hand forces your thigh down forcefully. You’re unsure how long you wanted Yoongi between your legs - more ways than one - and having him here now is entirely liberating.

“That feels so good, Yoon.” you whimper, your pussy clenching around nothing. You wished it was stuffed with his cock and he bred you just like he said he wanted to.

Yoongi knows it does. He recalls the times he would eat you out without expecting anything in return - just because he loved the way you tasted and how hard you’d cum from his tongue alone.

Yoongi places two fingers into his mouth for a moment before inching them closer to your hole. His tongue then twirls onto your clit, eyes flickering up to watch your reaction. Your mouth opens in a gasp, back arching a bit.

Your pussy immediately squeezes around his fingers and he begins to pump. His tongue continues to twirl onto your clit for added pleasure, determined in letting you cum.

Your hands grip your breast and your eyes are fluttering close. Your hips grind a bit, thighs shaking.

“Y-Yoon…!”

Yoongi chuckle, lifting from your clit. His lips and chin are coated in your arousal. “Yeah, baby?” he asks, tone sultry. “Does it feel good?”

You nod your head, swallowing.

“Your fingers feel so good.”

Yoongi continues to pump, feline eyes watching your every move. The way you’re gasping every few moments. Your eyes fluttering open and close, your thighs quivering and shaking.

“You’re going to cum already, aren’t you?” Yoongi chuckles a bit, biting his lip. “You’ve been bottling everything up for so long that it only takes you about 5 minutes to cum all over my fingers.”

Fuck Yoongi and the way he was right about you. You had consumed most of your time running Deathrow that you hadn’t allowed yourself any true release. Your fingers could only do so much, and your vibrator could only stay charged for so long. It wasn’t the same as having a man fuck his fingers into you so vigorously - as if he’s getting direct pleasure from it.

“That’s right, baby.” Yoongi marvels at the way your juices coat his palm that he adds another finger. You’re wet, pussy making sloppy squelching sounds. “Cum all over my fingers, Y/N. You’re finally being such a good girl.”

Who knew you had a praise kink?

You let go just as Yoongi intends. You weren’t expecting the pressure from deep within you to be released all over him, shooting out the clear liquid all over him and the floor.

Yoongi chuckles, releasing his fingers from your throbbing pussy. “You made such a mess. I knew you would.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, your chest rising and falling.

“I want to ride you.”

Yoongi’s eyes shoot up at your sudden change of tone. “Oh?”

You nod. You weren’t a rider - you never enjoyed it. Yoong did, however, enjoyed taking the lead. This time you wanted to have a bit of control. You needed to hear him moaning for you; because of something you were doing for him.

Before Yoongi can say anything else - not like he was going to deny you anyways - your hands grasp onto his shirt. You bring him closer to you so you can wrap your legs around his waist and flip him onto his own back.

Yoongi is amused by how easily you handle him. Dare he even say attracted by your sudden actions. You hover above him so you can undo his pants and slide them down to reveal his covered cock. It’s twitching angrily, ready to be set free and taken advantage of by you.

“Your cock is still pretty.” you state when you tug his briefs down. His cock springs out, oozing pre-cum from a pink tip you want to wrap your mouth around. But that’ll wait for another time. You don’t allow Yoongi the time to react before you grab it with your soft, yet firm hand. You center yourself.

“Fuck, hold-”

Yoongi grunts when you sit on him completely. His legs shake a bit at feeling you bare wet pussy squeezing him.

“Oh..shiiit.” Yoongi hisses out. He swallows thickly, his eyes fluttering a bit.

You smirk. Yoongi was a simple man indeed. You’d have to show him what you’d learned over the years - mainly though porn as the thought of being with another man repulsed you. You were a certified man hater unless it was Yoongi; the man that wasn’t officially your man, but still is in theory.

Your feet planted itself onto either side of him and your arms wrapped around his neck. Your hips rise and fall in rhythm, his cock hitting your sweet spot with each bounce.

Yoongi’s large hands immediately fall onto your ass, squeezing them into his palms. He doesn’t care how needy he sounds with his whimpers and moans - he wasn’t embarrassed to show you how good you were. He’s happy that he has the chance to feel you again - the tightness of your pussy, the flesh of your ass. Your breast bounces in his face and the sight is entirely heavenly that if he were to die right now, he would be content.

Content until Yoongi thinks that with him gone, you’d be vulnerable in the world and he immediately takes it back.

“You’re fucking yourself so good, baby.” Yoongi couldn’t help but to slap your ass and then immediately squeeze the flesh as you continued to bounce on his cock. His lips connect to the flesh of your breast, kissing along them as he curses to himself.

“Your cock feels so good, Yoongi.” you moan in his ear. You’re surprised by your own stamina - but having his cock in you after years of denying him for whatever pathetic reason was possibly why. Your pussy clenches and unclenches with each pounce, your clit rubbing against his skin for added friction.

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s teeth grazes your right nipple. “Your tits are so amazing.” he says, finding that your bouncing breast in his face was pure bliss. “I’ve waited so long to feel your pussy around me. You kept teasing me over and over again.”

Another slap onto your ass has you squealing - and clenching. Yoongi does it again to feel your pussy squeeze his cock again; and again and again until you can feel the flesh throbbing.

Yoongi’s hands squeeze your ass to keep you in place, his mouth wrapping onto your nipple. He begins to thrust upwards, pounding into you with such greed. Your skin slapping against his echoes off the high ceilings, your high-pitched squeals added onto that for added flavor.

Yoongi’s eyes flutter upwards, feeling entirely too blissful. His thrusts are powerful - so much so that he needed to feel you deeper.

Yoongi flips you onto your back, slamming you against the leather couch without much warning. He forces your legs apart so he can see just how wet you were for him, dripping all over his cock.

“Look at that.” Yoongi chuckles, continuing his brutal pace.

It’s disrespectful, even, the way Yoongi fucks you. But neither of you care. He plunges his cock so deep into you that you can swear you feel him in your stomach, and even then you’re only begging him for more.

Drunk Yoongi was a different Yoongi, at times - but he was the same man that craved you entirely. His hands - a part of him that you always admired for how large, veiny and beautiful they were, clasp onto your shoulders. His dark eyes stare right into you, pounding his cock in and out of you.

“You’re so d-deep.” you gasp, your toes curling when he hits that same sweet spot that only he could ever reach.

“I gotta be deep if I’m going to get you pregnant.”

Why was that so tempting?

Damn Yoongi and his dirty talk - along with his fucked out expression and deep, husky voice. How could you not want to be bred by him when he looked this good? The scar just added onto his attractiveness.

“I-I’d like that.”

Yoongi groans. “Yeah?” his eyebrows knit. “You want my baby but won’t marry me?”

Yoongi’s hands squeeze your shoulders tighter. Your back arches a bit at the added touch.

“Want my fingers. My tongue. My cock.” One hand lifts from your shoulders to your face, his thumb tracing your lips. “My babies…but won’t give me the satisfaction of marriage.”

You whimper at the familiar bubbling in your stomach.

“Stop-”

Yoongi pushes himself away from you. He’s standing, pulling your body with him so that your lower half is fully in his embrace. He drills into you at the same alarming pace and you’re only forced to watch helplessly moaning.

“Yoon-g-gi!”

Yoongi wasn’t going to spare you - not when you felt so good. Not when you were making such sweet noises.

“Marry me, Y/N.” Yoongi demands, a thumb placing onto your throbbing clit and twirling vigorously. “Whatever you want, you got it. Do I need to kill ten more men for you?”

Your hands squeeze onto nothing. You don’t recall Yoongi being this much of a aggressive fucker but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love every moment of it.

“Yoon-”

“Yes or no, baby? Don’t you want those babies we talked about?”

You did - damn Yoongi for making you want babies you hadn’t thought about in years.

“They’ll be so cute. I want a little girl just like you to spoil.” Yoongi’s thumb continues to tier; harshly onto your clit.

You squeeze your eyes shut, a loud groan coming from your throat.

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasp out, wanting to squirm away from his possessive embrace.

“Are you going to marry me or not?” Yoongi grumbles, replacing his thumb with four fingers. You were milking his cock so well, arousal dripping from your pussy to your thighs and around his cock. He wished he had a camera to capture such a beautiful moment.

“Yes!”

You were cumming, but Yoongi didn’t care about that right now. You had finally agreed to marry him - and maybe it was the orgasm talking, but he took it serious enough to continue twirling your clit until you’re leaking all over the place. And even then, he continues fucking into your pussy greedily until he’s cumming in you, shooting you with warm ropes of cum.

You’re exhausted at the end of it all - an hour and a half and three orgasms later. Your pussy is leaking cum from Yoongi, who’s insatiable but satiated at the moment. The fucking went from the livingroom, to your bedroom. Your eyelids are heavy and all you wanted to do was sleep.

“Yoongi?”

It was ten minutes later when you spoke to the man. He’s wide away, seemingly coming down from his drunken state.

“Hm?” Yoongi says, cigarette hanging from his lips.

“We should probably talk.”

Your eyes are still closed and your voice is full of sleep.

“Maybe after you’ve rested-”

“Give me the ring.”

Yoongi is silent as he inhales the smoke, the familiar burning sensation hits his throat.

“I’m not going to ask you again.” you say, eyes still closed.

Yoongi does as you say. He had the ring tucked in his jacket pocket just downstairs and when he retrieved it, you held out your hand for him to put it on. Your eyes finally open to inspect the ring and how it looks on your finger.

Yoongi doesn’t speak, and neither do you. It was like that at times with the two of you. Instead of saying anything, you glance at him hovering above you and tuck your hand underneath your face and close your eyes.

What’s understood doesn’t need to be said, but Yoongi can feel the way his heart jolts at the silent agreement.

@sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @investedreader @chimmy-licious @minshookie29

#a man's world #trivia-yandere #explicit-tae #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts smut #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bangtanwriters net #bangtan smut #btswritersclub #bangtanwritershq #suga smut #bts mafia #yoongi mafia #Soft yandere yoongi

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bluelavendre · 2 months ago

Text

Title: In His Shadow Sequel

Yandere Idol Jungkook X idol reader

All Fictional Ya'll!! hihi

You should read the first part first here

Enjoy!

-Bluellexoxo

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The warm aroma of coffee wafted through the cozy café, mingling with the soft hum of chatter and occasional bursts of laughter. The setting was picturesque—a bright morning with sunlight streaming through the large windows, illuminating the table where Y/N sat. But despite the seemingly cheerful scene, she felt a weight pressing down on her chest.

At her side sat Jungkook, his hand resting possessively on her thigh beneath the table. His smile was radiant as he engaged in animated conversation with his parents, who sat across from them. His mother’s soft laughter filled the air as she recounted old stories, and his father’s deep chuckles followed closely.

Across from Y/N sat Jennie, her best friend and unwavering support. Jennie’s eyes sparkled as she sipped her latte, occasionally chiming in with playful comments. She had been the one constant in Y/N’s life through every high and low, the anchor Y/N clung to when everything felt like it was spinning out of control.

Y/N smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Her lips curved upward as if on autopilot, a trained expression she had perfected over years of public appearances. She nodded and chimed in with polite affirmations whenever the conversation steered toward wedding details. But inside, her mind was elsewhere.

“Y/N-ah,” Jungkook’s mother said, drawing her attention back to the table. “Have you thought about what kind of flowers you’d like for the bouquet? I was thinking peonies—they’re so elegant, and they’d suit you beautifully!”

“Oh, yes,” Y/N replied, her voice soft, “peonies sound perfect.” She gave a slight nod, her fingers curling tightly around the handle of her coffee cup.

Jennie noticed the subtle tension in Y/N’s posture, the way her smile wavered for a fraction of a second. She reached across the table and gave Y/N’s hand a reassuring squeeze, her thumb brushing lightly over Y/N’s knuckles.

“Peonies would look amazing,” Jennie said with her trademark enthusiasm, stepping in to ease the pressure. “And with the venue you’ve chosen, they’ll add a nice pop of color!”

Y/N threw her a grateful glance, but it was fleeting. The weight of the discussion loomed over her like a dark cloud, and her mind drifted again, back to the lingering pain of her past.

Her parents’ voices echoed in her memory—harsh words and disappointed glares. They had been so proud of her once, envisioning a future where she’d follow a “respectable” path, perhaps becoming a doctor or a lawyer. But when she dropped out of school to chase her dream of becoming a performer, their pride turned to anger.

“You’ll regret this,” her mother had said coldly the day Y/N packed her bags and walked out. “Don’t expect us to pick up the pieces when this falls apart.”

Jennie had been there that night, standing outside in the rain, waiting for her. “Come on,” Jennie had said with a soft smile, holding out her umbrella. “You’ve got me. Let’s figure this out together.”

“Bub?” Jungkook’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. His brow furrowed slightly as he looked at her, concern flickering in his eyes. “You okay? You’ve been quiet.”

Y/N blinked, her focus snapping back to the table. “Oh, sorry,” she said quickly, forcing a brighter smile. “I was just thinking about all the planning we still have to do.”

Jungkook grinned, clearly reassured. “Don’t worry, bub. We’ll handle it together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

The irony of his words wasn’t lost on her. For someone who claimed to want to share everything, Jungkook had a way of making every decision feel like it wasn’t entirely hers to make.

His mother clapped her hands together, her excitement palpable. “This wedding is going to be the event of the year!” she declared. “We’re so proud to welcome you into our family, Y/N.”

Jennie caught the fleeting flicker of sadness in Y/N’s eyes, the way her shoulders stiffened at the mention of “family.”

“Yes, family,” Jennie chimed in, her voice light but with an edge of protectiveness. “And Y/N’s lucky to have such wonderful in-laws.” She smiled at Jungkook’s parents, but her hand brushed against Y/N’s knee under the table—a silent message that said, I see you. I’ve got you.

As the conversation carried on, Y/N sat in silence, her mind a swirling storm of emotions. She was grateful for Jennie’s presence, for the way her friend shielded her from questions that felt too invasive. But the pressure was mounting, and with each passing moment, Y/N felt herself slipping further into the role everyone expected her to play.

The perfect fiancée. The dutiful soon-to-be wife. The woman who had it all.

And yet, deep down, all she wanted was to breathe, to escape the walls closing in around her.

“When will the wedding be?” Jennie asked, her tone light but curious as she took a sip of her coffee.

Jungkook’s mom’s eyes lit up, clearly thrilled by the question. “Yes! We need to pick the perfect date,” she chimed in eagerly. “And don’t worry about timing. We can always send a request to give our Kookie a few months’ leave for the—”

“I—I think it’ll be best after Gguk’s enlistment,” Y/N blurted out, cutting off the older woman mid-sentence.

Her voice trembled slightly, but she masked it with a nervous smile, squeezing Jungkook’s hand for support. Her heart raced as the table went quiet for a beat, the sudden change in tone catching everyone off guard.

“R-right, bub?” Y/N added, glancing at Jungkook with an expression that begged him to back her up.

Jungkook’s gaze softened as he looked at her. He tilted his head slightly, his long hair framing his face, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “If that’s what you want, bub,” he said gently, though there was a hint of curiosity in his tone, as if he were trying to read between the lines.

Jennie watched the exchange closely, her brow furrowing slightly, though she quickly hid her concern with a bright smile. “That sounds like a good idea,” she chimed in, breaking the brief silence. “You’ll have plenty of time to plan everything exactly how you want it, Y/N.”

Jungkook’s mom, however, seemed slightly disheartened. “Oh, but wouldn’t it be better to do it before? That way, you could start your married life together right away.”

Y/N’s fingers twitched slightly in Jungkook’s grasp, and she forced herself to keep smiling. “I just think it’ll be less stressful this way,” she explained quickly. “We don’t want to rush something so important.”

Jungkook’s dad nodded in agreement. “That’s fair. It’s better to wait and do it properly than to feel like you’re cramming it in.”

Jungkook’s mom reluctantly sighed but smiled. “If that’s what you both want, then of course, we’ll support it.”

Y/N let out a quiet breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her fingers remained intertwined with Jungkook’s, though her palms felt clammy. She hated how her decision felt like an excuse, but deep down, the thought of planning a wedding while juggling the weight of their strained relationship felt unbearable.

Jungkook leaned closer to her, his lips brushing against her temple as he whispered, “You sure about this, bub? We can talk about it later if you’re feeling unsure.”

His voice was soft, but there was a lingering note of concern. Y/N nodded quickly, plastering on another smile. “I’m sure,” she whispered back, though the turmoil inside her said otherwise.

Jennie, ever perceptive, caught the faint tension in Y/N’s voice. She reached across the table and nudged Y/N’s arm playfully. “Don’t stress too much, Y/N. It’s your wedding—it’s supposed to be fun!”

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, her voice quieter than she intended. “Fun.”

The rest of the conversation shifted to lighter topics, but Y/N found herself zoning out, her thoughts spiraling. She was grateful for Jennie’s subtle attempts to steer the focus away from the wedding, throwing in jokes and stories that had everyone laughing.

When the lunch ended, and everyone began to leave the café, Jennie pulled Y/N aside. “Hey,” Jennie said softly, her tone laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

Y/N hesitated, looking over at Jungkook, who was busy saying goodbye to his parents. She forced a smile and nodded. “I’m fine, Jen.”

Jennie frowned but didn’t press further. “Just… if you ever need to talk, you know I’m here, right?”

“I know,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

As Jungkook came over, Jennie stepped back, giving them space. “Ready to go, bub?” he asked, his hand slipping around her waist.

Y/N nodded, leaning into him despite the unease twisting in her stomach.

The ride back to their shared penthouse was mostly silent. Jungkook hummed quietly to himself, his hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s thigh as he drove.

“You’ve been quiet,” he finally said, glancing at her. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just tired,” Y/N lied, looking out the window to avoid his gaze.

Jungkook frowned but didn’t push her. Instead, he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles. “I’ll take care of you, bub. You don’t have to worry about anything, okay?”

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening. She wanted to believe him—wanted to believe that they could fix the cracks in their relationship. But as the city lights blurred past, she couldn’t shake the growing doubt in her heart.

When they arrived at Jungkook’s penthouse, the familiar space welcomed them with its modern, minimalist charm. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning view of the city skyline, glowing with the soft hues of twilight. Jungkook kicked off his shoes at the door and took a slow, deliberate look around the expansive living room, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“We need a bigger fortress,” he said suddenly, a sly smile playing on his lips as he glanced back at Y/N.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his comment. She tilted her head slightly, a mix of confusion and curiosity in her expression. “A bigger… fortress?” she repeated, her tone unsure.

Jungkook walked over to her, slipping his arms around her waist. “Yeah, bub. Bigger. Better. Somewhere even more private, where it’s just you and me. No distractions, no interruptions.”

He said it so casually, as though he were talking about a simple weekend getaway, but the intensity in his eyes made Y/N’s stomach flip. His grip on her waist was firm, almost possessive, yet his smile was warm and loving.

She forced a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “This place is already massive, Gguk. What more could we possibly need?”

Jungkook leaned down, brushing his nose against hers. “It’s not about space, bub. It’s about security. I want to make sure you’re safe, that no one can get to us.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine. Sometimes, Y/N struggled to understand the extremes of his emotions. One moment, he was furious and jealous, his temper flaring at the smallest of things. The next, he was soft and tender, showering her with love and affection.

“You’re confusing sometimes, you know that?” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s smile faltered for a brief second before he cupped her face gently. “How so?”

Y/N hesitated, unsure if she should voice her thoughts. “You… You’re so unpredictable, Gguk. One moment, you’re mad and jealous, and the next, you’re like this—sweet and loving. It’s hard to keep up sometimes.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed slightly as he listened. He sighed, pulling her closer so their foreheads touched. “I know I’m not easy, bub. I know I can be… intense. But it’s because I love you so damn much. I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

His voice was low, almost a whisper, but the raw emotion in it was unmistakable. Y/N felt her heart clench. She knew he loved her—he made that abundantly clear every single day—but sometimes, his love felt overwhelming, like it was smothering her instead of lifting her up.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jungkook,” she said softly, placing her hands on his chest. “But you have to trust me. You have to let me breathe.”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might argue. But instead, he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I’ll try, bub. For you, I’ll try.”

The sincerity in his voice made her chest ache. She wanted to believe him, to believe that things would get better. But deep down, she couldn’t ignore the nagging doubt that had taken root in her heart.

“Come on,” Jungkook said suddenly, his tone lighter as he pulled back slightly. “Let’s order some food. You’ve had a long day.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for the change in topic. As Jungkook busied himself with their dinner plans, she sat on the couch, her thoughts swirling.

A week later, the day had finally arrived. Jungkook stood in front of the mirror in his penthouse bedroom, running a hand over his freshly buzzed head. The soft, short bristles felt foreign to him after years of long hair flowing freely down his neck. He turned his head slightly, studying his reflection. Despite the haircut symbolizing discipline and transformation, there was something in his eyes that remained wild—untamed.

Y/N stood by the door, leaning against the frame as she silently watched him. He looked so different, so… formal. The lack of his usual hair, coupled with the sleek military uniform he’d already started wearing for familiarization, gave him an aura of authority and distance that she wasn’t accustomed to.

“You look…” she began, searching for the right words, “different.”

Jungkook turned to her with a small, lopsided grin. “Good different or bad different?”

She walked closer, her eyes softening as she reached out to touch his head. “Good different,” she said with a small smile, her fingers brushing over the buzzed cut. “Just… new.”

He chuckled, grabbing her wrist gently and pulling her into his arms. “It’s still me, bub. Don’t worry. I might look like a soldier now, but I’m still your Gguk.”

Her heart clenched at his words. There was an ache deep inside her chest, one that had been growing ever since the reality of his enlistment began to set in. He’d be gone for two years, and though he promised to visit and stay in touch, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that things would never be the same.

“When do you leave?” she asked quietly, her voice barely audible against his chest.

“In an hour,” he murmured, his arms tightening around her. “I’ll drop you off at Jennie’s before I go.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “I can come with you to the base.”

Jungkook shook his head, a soft but firm smile on his lips. “No, bub. I don’t want you to see me leave. I want your last memory of me to be here, like this, okay?”

Her throat tightened, and she nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

The drive to Jennie’s house was quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Y/N stared out the window, watching the city blur past, while Jungkook occasionally glanced at her, his hand resting on her thigh. When they arrived, Jennie was already waiting outside, her usual bubbly energy subdued as she saw the somber expressions on their faces.

“I’ll take care of her,” Jennie assured Jungkook as he helped Y/N out of the car.

He nodded, pulling Y/N into one last hug. “Take care of yourself, bub,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ll write to you every chance I get.”

Y/N clung to him, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Be safe, Gguk. Don’t overdo it, okay?”

He pulled back just enough to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

And with that, he got back into the car, giving her one last wave before driving off. Y/N stood there, watching until his car disappeared down the street, her chest feeling hollow.

Back at the base, Jungkook stepped out of the car, greeted by the buzz of activity as other recruits arrived. He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. This was a new chapter, a chance to prove himself in a different way.

But as he walked through the gates, his mind was already drifting back to Y/N—her scent, her touch, the sound of her laugh.

He clenched his jaw. No matter how far away he was, she would always be his.

Y/N was lounging on the couch, wearing an oversized hoodie, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, when her phone buzzed on the table. She lazily reached for it, expecting a message from Jennie or her manager. Instead, it was a call.

“Hello?” she answered, her voice soft and casual.

“Good morning, Y/N-shi!” her manager’s cheerful voice greeted her. “I’ve got some exciting news for you. Calvin Klein has reached out—they want you to sign as their global ambassador.”

Her eyes widened, and she nearly spilled her coffee. “Wait, what? Calvin Klein?”

“Yes! They’ve been following your career, and they believe you perfectly fit their new campaign. Isn’t that incredible?”

A wave of pride and excitement rushed over her. “Of course, I’ll do it! Tell them I’m in!”

Her manager laughed. “I knew you’d say yes. They’ll set up the contract and photoshoot schedule soon. Also, expect more calls—ever since your tour ended, brands have been lining up for you. Vacation or not, you’re the hottest name right now.”

True to her manager’s words, Y/N’s phone didn’t stop buzzing. Over the next few weeks, she found herself swamped with offers. Luxury brands wanted her face on their campaigns, magazines requested interviews, and talk shows begged for her appearance. Parties and events flooded her calendar, and Jennie was by her side through most of them.

One evening, as Y/N and Jennie sat in a chic lounge after an event, sipping on champagne, Y/N’s phone buzzed again. She glanced at the screen. It was her manager.

“What’s up?” she asked after answering the call.

“You’re going to love this,” her manager said, excitement clear in their voice. “You’ve been asked to co-produce a song with a male artist. It’s a big name, Y/N. Huge.”

Her eyes lit up. “Who is it?”

“Lee Minjae. He’s just released two chart-topping albums and is looking to collaborate with someone as dynamic as you.”

Y/N felt a thrill run through her. “Oh my gosh, that’s amazing! Let’s do it!”

The project with Minjae turned out to be one of the most exciting things Y/N had worked on. They spent long hours in the studio, brainstorming, writing, and producing. As they collaborated, rumors started swirling online. Fans began speculating about their chemistry, and shippers quickly emerged, piecing together photos from studio sessions and public events.

Since her engagement with Jungkook was kept discreet, many believed her rumored relationship with Jungkook had been false, adding fuel to the gossip about her and Minjae. Articles speculated about a budding romance, and hashtags trended overnight.

Late one evening, Y/N was lounging at home when her phone rang. She didn’t even need to check the caller ID to know who it was.

“Bub,” Jungkook’s voice was cold, tinged with frustration, “what the hell is going on?”

Y/N sighed, already knowing where this was going. “What are you talking about, Kook?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Minjae. The photos. The rumors.”

“It’s just work, Jungkook! We’re co-producing a song. That’s it.”

“Doesn’t look like ‘just work’ to me,” he snapped. “Have you seen what people are saying? They think you’re with him.”

“Why do you care so much about what they’re saying? You know the truth,” she retorted, her voice rising in frustration.

“I care because it’s my fiancée they’re talking about!” he shouted. “Do you know how it feels to see those headlines while I’m stuck here, miles away, unable to do anything?”

Y/N’s chest tightened. She hated fighting with him, but his possessiveness was starting to suffocate her. “Jungkook, you need to trust me. This is my career. I can’t control what people say, but I can’t stop living my life because of rumors.”

His silence on the other end of the line was deafening.

“Fine,” he finally said, his voice icy. “But don’t forget who you belong to.”

A week after their heated argument, another photo of Y/N and Jungkook from years ago was leaked online. It was an intimate picture of the two of them at a private gathering, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist as they laughed together.

The internet exploded with renewed speculation about their relationship. Fans began connecting dots, some claiming the photo proved they had been secretly dating for years.

Jungkook called her again, but this time, his tone was softer. “Bub, it’s everywhere now. Everyone knows.”

Y/N sighed, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. “What do we do, Gguk?”

“We let them talk,” he said firmly. “Because at the end of the day, you’re mine, and I’m yours. Let them say whatever they want.”

Months passed in a blur for Y/N, her schedule packed with photoshoots, interviews, songwriting, and collaborations. The added responsibility of planning her wedding made her life even busier. Yet, she welcomed the distraction. It kept her grounded and gave her a sense of normalcy amid the chaos.

Jungkook, on the other hand, kept his distance. He wanted to stay focused on his duties in the military, ensuring he was in his best shape—mentally and physically—for his fiancée. He’d been working harder than ever, driven by his love for her and his desire to be a better man. Every time a new photo of Y/N surfaced on social media, he’d save it immediately. Even in the midst of military drills, he’d steal glances at his phone just to see her face.

Back at their shared penthouse, Jungkook’s parents often dropped by to check on Y/N. They treated her like family already, making sure she wasn’t overwhelmed by everything on her plate.

One afternoon, as Y/N was having tea with Jungkook’s mother in the living room, her soon-to-be father-in-law entered the room with a grin.

“Y/N-ah,” he started, sitting down across from her, “have you heard about Jungkook’s latest project?”

She tilted her head, curious. “Project?”

His mother chuckled, shaking her head. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

Her father-in-law leaned forward, his smile widening. “He’s been investing his savings in a new house for the two of you. He says it’ll be your dream home.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “A new house?”

His mother nodded. “He wanted it to be a surprise. He’s been so excited about it.”

Y/N felt a pang in her chest. She should’ve been touched, but the weight of everything—their strained relationship, the upcoming wedding, the unresolved pain—made her feel conflicted.

A few weeks later, Y/N found herself in Paris for Fashion Week, joined by Jennie. Their shared suite overlooked the sparkling Eiffel Tower, the city buzzing with energy and glamour. After a long day of events and runway shows, they retired to their room with a bottle of wine in hand.

Y/N poured herself another glass, the alcohol loosening her tongue. Jennie watched her with concern as she began to ramble.

“Jen,” Y/N slurred slightly, her cheeks flushed, “you know, sometimes I feel like I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.”

Jennie raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? You’re doing amazing, Y/N. Look at you—everyone’s obsessed with you.”

Y/N shook her head, her eyes glistening. “It’s not about the career. It’s about… everything else. The wedding, Jungkook, the baby we didn’t have…” Her voice cracked, and Jennie’s heart sank.

“Wait, what baby?” Jennie asked, sitting up straighter.

Y/N sighed, tears spilling over. “It happened months ago. I didn’t even know I was pregnant until I wasn’t anymore. And Jungkook… we fought about it. He blamed me, Jen. He said I didn’t take care of myself.”

Jennie’s eyes burned with fury. “He what?”

Y/N wiped her face with her hands. “I know he didn’t mean it, but it hurt. It still hurts. And now we’re planning this wedding, and I’m just… I’m scared, Jennie. I don’t know if I can do this.”

Jennie pulled her into a tight hug, whispering soothing words as Y/N cried into her shoulder.

The next morning, Jennie wasted no time. She stepped out onto the hotel balcony with her phone, dialing Jungkook’s number.

“Noona?” he answered groggily, his voice laced with sleep.

“You idiot,” she snapped, not bothering with pleasantries. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What?” Jungkook was instantly alert, sitting up in his bed. “What’s going on?”

“Do you have any idea what Y/N’s been going through? She told me everything—about the baby, the fight, how you made her feel like it was her fault!”

Jungkook’s heart sank. He hadn’t realized how deeply his words had hurt her. “Jennie, I—”

“No, Jungkook. You don’t get to ‘Jennie’ me. She’s your fiancée, and she’s terrified of this wedding because of you. She’s putting on a brave face, but deep down, she’s breaking, and you’re too blind to see it.”

Jennie’s words hit him like a truck, and guilt washed over him. He had been so focused on himself—on the military, on the house, on his plans—that he hadn’t stopped to consider how Y/N was feeling.

“Where is she?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

“She’s sleeping. She was a mess last night, Jungkook. Fix this. I mean it.”

Jennie’s scolding only fueled Jungkook’s fury—not at her, but at himself. He hung up the call and sat on the edge of his bed, his hands in his hair.

He thought about the baby they had lost, the pain he had buried instead of confronting. He thought about Y/N, working herself to the bone while pretending to be okay. And he thought about their wedding, the dream he was so focused on that he had forgotten to ask if it was what she wanted, too.

Jungkook’s anger boiled under the surface after Jennie’s call ended. He wasn’t mad at her; he was furious at himself for failing Y/N, for being blind to her struggles, for saying things he could never take back. But his emotions, raw and volatile, had nowhere to go. His hands trembled as he sat on the edge of his bed in the barracks, the weight of guilt pressing down on his chest.

Without thinking, he grabbed his phone and dialed Y/N. The phone rang a few times before going to voicemail. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing. “Fine,” he muttered under his breath.

Jungkook stormed out of the barracks, ignoring the curious glances of his fellow soldiers. His heart pounded as he made his way to the commanding officer’s office, the fire inside him driving every step.

Meanwhile in Paris…

Y/N woke up groggy, her head pounding from the wine the night before. She groaned, shielding her eyes from the sunlight streaming through the window. Jennie sat by the vanity, scrolling through her phone.

“Morning, sunshine,” Jennie said softly, her tone cautious.

Y/N sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon. You’ve got some events later today, but I told them you might be late.”

Y/N sighed, her mind still clouded with the memories of her breakdown the night before. “Thanks, Jen.”

Before Jennie could respond, Y/N’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. She reached for it, her stomach twisting when she saw Jungkook’s name.

“Are you going to answer that?” Jennie asked, her tone sharp.

Y/N hesitated before shaking her head. “I… I can’t. Not right now.”

Jennie nodded, but there was an edge to her expression. “He needs to hear from you eventually, Y/N. You can’t avoid him forever.”

“I know,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible.

Back at the military base…

Jungkook’s commanding officer stared at him in disbelief. “You want a leave of absence? Effective immediately?”

“Yes, sir,” Jungkook said firmly, standing at attention.

“Jeon, you’ve been doing well here, but you know the rules. We can’t just grant leave without a valid reason.”

Jungkook took a deep breath. “It’s personal, sir. I need to fix something important. If I don’t, I might lose it forever.”

The officer studied him for a moment before sighing. “Fine. You’ve got three days, Jeon. Don’t waste them.”

Jungkook saluted, his jaw set. “Thank you, sir.”

Later that evening…

Y/N and Jennie were at a rooftop party in Paris, the glittering city stretching out beneath them. Y/N tried to enjoy herself, but her mind kept wandering. She hadn’t responded to Jungkook’s calls or texts all day, and the guilt was eating at her.

She was sipping a glass of champagne when she felt a strange sensation, like someone was watching her. She turned, her breath catching in her throat.

There he was.

Jungkook stood at the edge of the crowd, his military buzz cut making him look sharper, more intense. His dark eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

“Is that…?” Jennie whispered beside her, following her gaze.

Y/N set her glass down, her heart racing as Jungkook walked toward her with purposeful strides. The crowd parted for him, sensing his presence like a storm rolling in.

When he reached her, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he grabbed her wrist gently but firmly and led her away from the crowd, ignoring Jennie’s protests.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” Y/N asked, her voice trembling.

He stopped in a quiet corner, turning to face her. His jaw was tight, his eyes filled with a mix of anger, hurt, and determination.

“I couldn’t stay away,” he said, his voice low but intense. “I needed to see you, to fix this.”

“Fix what?” Y/N said, her own anger bubbling to the surface. “You can’t just show up like this and expect everything to be okay.”

“I know,” Jungkook admitted, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I know I’ve screwed up, Y/N. But I can’t stand the thought of you going through this alone. I can’t lose you.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears. “You hurt me, Jungkook. You made me feel like I wasn’t enough, like I was to blame for everything.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I was angry, scared… I didn’t know how to handle it. But I’m here now, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

She looked at him, torn between love and frustration. “You can’t just fix everything with words, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he said, stepping closer. “But I’ll prove it to you. Every single day, I’ll prove it.”

Y/N’s walls began to crack, the raw emotion in his voice cutting through her defenses. “You have a lot to prove,” she said quietly.

“I will,” he promised, pulling her into his arms. “I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

As she rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, she wondered if they could truly move past the pain. But for now, she let herself believe in his promise, holding onto the hope that they could find their way back to each other.

Jungkook stayed in Paris for a few weeks with Y/N, giving them both time to reconnect and breathe. The chaotic nature of their lives had always kept them apart, but in the quiet, romantic setting of Paris, it was as though time had slowed down. The city, with its art, its beauty, and its timeless charm, seemed to wrap them in a cocoon where the outside world couldn’t reach them.

Jennie had left them alone, sensing that they needed space to work through their emotions, away from the constant buzz of their high-profile lives. It was during this time that Y/N began to see a side of Jungkook that she hadn’t noticed before—a side that wasn’t driven by anger or jealousy, but one that was vulnerable, open, and truly sorry.

They walked hand in hand along the Seine, the city’s lights reflecting in the water, casting a soft glow over them. The night felt magical, the air crisp and cool, a perfect setting for the conversations that needed to happen. They found a quiet park bench and sat down, just the two of them, watching the world go by.

“Do you remember the first time we came here?” Jungkook asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled at the memory. “I remember. It was chaotic, full of press, and we barely had time to enjoy it. But even then, it was special.”

He nodded, his gaze distant as if he was lost in the past. “We were so young, so naive. But I promised you then, and I promise you now, that I’ll always be here for you. I’ll always fight for us.”

Y/N looked at him, studying his face, trying to understand the depths of his emotions. “You always fight, Jungkook. But sometimes, I don’t know if it’s for me, or for the idea of us that you’ve created in your head.”

He turned his head to meet her eyes, his expression a mix of regret and vulnerability. “I know. And that’s something I need to work on. I’ve always been afraid of losing you, Y/N. You’re everything to me. But sometimes, I take that fear and turn it into something toxic. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Her heart softened at his words, and she reached out, gently placing her hand on his. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. But you did, Jungkook. And I don’t know how to just move past that.”

Jungkook sighed, the weight of the words hanging between them. “I know. I understand. It’s just... I’ve always been afraid of losing people. I think that’s why I act the way I do. I saw my parents fight growing up, saw the instability in relationships, and I promised myself I wouldn’t let that happen to us. But I let my fear control me.”

Y/N’s fingers tightened around his. “I get that, I do. But love... love isn’t about control. It’s about trust. You have to trust me, Jungkook. I’m not going anywhere. But when you act the way you do, it makes me feel trapped, like I’m not allowed to breathe or live my own life.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to control you. I just... I get jealous. I get scared when other people are around you, when I see you so independent and successful. It makes me feel like I’m not enough, like I’m going to lose you to someone else.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, her heart aching for him. She could see the honesty in his eyes, the deep-rooted insecurities that he had never fully expressed before. “Jungkook, I’m not going anywhere. I love you. But you have to trust me. You have to trust that I choose you, that no matter how successful I get, you’re the one I want to be with. It’s not about being perfect, it’s about us choosing each other every day.”

He looked at her, his eyes softening, and nodded slowly. “I want that. I want to be the man you deserve, not the man who keeps pushing you away because of his own fears.”

Y/N leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “We’re not perfect, Jungkook. But we’re perfect for each other.”

As they sat together, talking for hours into the night, Y/N realized just how much Jungkook had changed. He wasn’t the same person he had been a few months ago, the one consumed by jealousy and control. He was growing, learning, and trying to be better—for her, for himself, and for the future they both dreamed of.

The conversation shifted to other things—lighter topics, like the future they wanted to build together. They talked about Bam, their dog, and how they both envisioned a life with him and maybe, someday, children of their own. They dreamed of a house, not just any house, but a home where they could raise a family, a place that would always feel like a sanctuary for them both.

“I want to build something real with you, Y/N,” Jungkook said, his voice sincere. “A family. A home. I want to be the man you can depend on, no matter what.”

Y/N smiled, feeling the weight of his words settle in her heart. “And I want that with you, Jungkook. I want us to be happy, to build something solid and strong.”

They stayed like that for hours, wrapped up in each other’s company, talking about their future. For the first time in a long while, Y/N felt like the love between them wasn’t just about passion or jealousy—it was about trust, vulnerability, and a shared vision for the future.

As they walked back to their hotel hand in hand, Paris lights twinkling around them, Y/N knew that they still had a long road ahead of them, but for the first time, she felt hopeful about what that future could look like. She didn’t have all the answers, but with Jungkook by her side, she was willing to find them together.

Jungkook's departure to continue his military service felt like a bittersweet farewell, but it was also a relief for Y/N. The weight of their previous emotional turmoil had been lifted after their heartfelt conversation in Paris. As he left, his words echoed in her mind: "I’ll be back for you. We’ll make this work." She clung to those words, knowing that he was truly trying to be better, not just for himself, but for their future.

Though the fans in Paris had leaked countless photos of them, capturing their intimate moments, Y/N didn’t let it affect her anymore. The scandal and public judgment had once plagued her, but now she was more focused on what was to come. The love she had with Jungkook wasn’t something to be hidden or ashamed of. It was real, and that was all that mattered. She could breathe again, free from the constraints of other people’s opinions.

As the months passed, the anticipation for the new house grew. The idea of finally having a space that was truly their own, a place where they could build a life together, filled her with excitement. She, along with Bam and Jungkook’s parents, was there to see it for the first time. Jennie, of course, was also by her side, always her rock through everything.

When they arrived at the house, it was even more breathtaking than Y/N had imagined. The spacious rooms, the modern yet cozy atmosphere, and the incredible view—it was perfect. But there was one room that stopped her in her tracks: the baby room.

It was beautiful, with soft pastel colors, a crib, and shelves filled with toys and baby clothes. The room was a clear sign of Jungkook’s hope for their future together. His parents looked thrilled, talking excitedly about the grandchildren they’d one day have. But Y/N didn’t know how to feel. The room, filled with all the promise of a family, felt like a weight on her chest. She had always dreamed of having a family, of having children with Jungkook, but the idea of becoming a mother in the midst of everything they had been through—the tension, the jealousy, the misunderstandings—felt overwhelming.

Her emotions were all over the place. She was happy, yes, but she also felt the sting of uncertainty. Was she ready? Was Jungkook ready? Would they really be able to give their child the kind of love and stability they both needed?

But the warmth in Jungkook’s mother’s eyes as she lovingly touched the crib eased some of her worries. Her future mother-in-law seemed so hopeful, so sure of the future. That brought Y/N a sense of comfort. She wasn’t alone in this journey. They were in this together, and whatever uncertainties she had, they would work through them as a family.

----------------------------

As weeks passed and Jungkook neared the end of his service, everything seemed to fall into place. The wedding plans were finalized. The venue, the guest list, the flowers—it was all coming together perfectly. Y/N could hardly believe that after everything, they were finally here, about to take the next step in their relationship.

There was still a lingering feeling of doubt in her heart, but that was only natural. The idea of marriage and children, of truly committing to a lifetime with someone, was a big deal. But deep down, she knew that she had made the right choice. Despite everything that had happened between them—despite the struggles, the pain, and the obstacles—they were still standing side by side, stronger than before. And that was what mattered.

Jungkook had grown, and Y/N had grown with him. They had learned, perhaps the hard way, how to communicate, to love, and to trust each other. Their love wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And that was all they needed.

The day Jungkook was set to return was fast approaching, and with it came a flood of emotions. Y/N was excited, nervous, and hopeful all at once. She knew that this was the beginning of a new chapter—one that would involve not only their love, but their future, their family, and the life they would build together.

And as she stood in front of the baby room once more, a small smile crept onto her face. She didn’t know exactly what the future held, but she knew that as long as they had each other, they could face whatever came their way. And that thought, as simple as it was, gave her the peace she needed to move forward.

-----------------------------

The day of the wedding arrived, and it was everything Y/N and Jungkook had hoped for—intimate, quiet, and filled with nothing but love. No public statements, no press, and no fans. It was a sacred moment, one meant only for the two of them and their closest loved ones. The air was heavy with emotion as they exchanged vows under a canopy of white flowers, surrounded by those who truly mattered.

Y/N’s heart raced as she gazed into Jungkook's eyes, his expression filled with sincerity and affection. Their promises to each other were heartfelt, words exchanged that signified the bond they had nurtured over the years—despite all the obstacles they had faced. It was a testament to their growth as individuals and as a couple.

The moment felt surreal, and for a brief moment, everything seemed perfect. As they sealed their vows with a kiss, the cheers of their family and friends echoed around them, but Y/N felt like time had slowed. She held onto the sensation of peace, the joy of finally finding her way to this point.

But as they walked down the aisle, hand in hand, something about the atmosphere shifted. There was a slight unease, something unspoken hanging in the air. It wasn’t anything anyone else noticed, but Y/N felt it deep in her chest.

Later that evening, as the reception unfolded, Y/N and Jungkook shared private moments, their connection undeniable, their love shining brightly. But just as they were about to cut the cake, Jungkook’s phone buzzed on the table. He hesitated for a moment before glancing at the screen. His expression immediately changed.

As the night went on, the wedding celebrations were in full swing. Y/N and Jungkook danced, laughed, and shared tender moments together, basking in the love of their closest friends and family. Everything seemed perfect—too perfect, in fact. The kind of perfection that made Y/N’s heart race, yet she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was off.

The night progressed, and Jungkook’s smile never wavered, but there was a certain tension in the air, a weight in his eyes that Y/N couldn’t ignore. The last song played, and as they stepped away from the dance floor, Jungkook excused himself for a moment.

Y/N, still lost in the glow of the evening, smiled to herself. She had always wanted this kind of love, this kind of commitment. But as she turned to find him, she saw him stepping into a quiet corner, his phone pressed to his ear, his back turned to her.

She watched him for a moment, intrigued. His tone was low and calm, but there was something in his voice that sent a chill down her spine. She couldn’t hear the words, but the energy in the room seemed to shift as she waited, her heart starting to race for reasons she couldn’t explain.

After a few moments, Jungkook hung up and turned around, his usual charming smile back in place, but there was something different in the way he looked at her—something dark, almost possessive.

Y/N’s curiosity gnawed at her. She approached him, but before she could say anything, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Are you okay, bub?” he whispered.

She nodded, unsure. "You seemed... different just now."

Jungkook gave a small, reassuring chuckle. “Nothing to worry about, love. Just some business stuff. Everything’s perfect.”

But as she gazed up at him, she knew there was something more beneath his calm demeanor.

Hours later, as the guests began to leave and the penthouse grew quiet, Jungkook sat in a dimly lit corner, his fingers tapping against his phone screen. Y/N was preparing to call it a night, feeling the weight of the day catching up to her, when she overheard Jungkook talking again.

This time, his voice was much sharper, filled with a cold, calculated edge.

"Yes, everything is perfect," he said, his voice barely above a whisper but cutting through the silence. "Leak everything. Let them see. Let her know she won’t be able to leave me. Except for the thing I told you... And you know what to do with them. They’ve been hurting her long enough. Let me be the karma."

Y/N’s heart stopped as she heard his words, her stomach sinking into her chest. It was as if the world around her came to a crashing halt.

Jungkook wasn’t the man she thought he was—not the man she had fallen in love with. She could hear the coldness in his voice, the hint of manipulation and control.

Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to process what she had just heard. The realization that something much darker was at play sent a shiver down her spine.

And as Jungkook ended the call, he turned to her with a smile, but it wasn’t the smile she knew. It was something far more unsettling.

"Everything’s just fine, love. Let’s enjoy our night," he said, his voice smooth, almost too smooth.

Y/N stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest, a flood of questions and fears crashing through her mind. What was he planning? And what had he just promised to do?

The truth was closer than she thought, and she was only beginning to see the dangerous game he was playing.

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