#yandere gangsters

[st4rg8te]

A Debt Collected (Pt. 1 (?))

Yandere! Gangsters X Male Reader

TW: Obsessive behavior, graphic depiction(s) of violence, kidnapping, swearing, and smoking.

Synopsis: Living a life of petty crime and violence, you were bound to mess with someone you shouldn’t have sooner or later.

[A/N: Something random before I post the next part of Twisted Affections.]

✦✧✦✧

✦✧✦✧

You weren't a good person. 

You lie, you hurt, and you steal from others. Years of living this life had slowly chipped away at your conscience, dulling the edges of remorse.

The guilt that once weighed heavy on your shoulders became a fading memory, drowned out by the flashing lights and moving bodies in the nightclub— It was here, amidst the thumping bass and haze of smoke, that you found a twisted sense of belonging.

While grinding against some random stranger, a hand suddenly grabbed your shoulder from behind— It was firm, cutting through the haze of alcohol and adrenaline that clouded your mind. You turned around, only to see a set of familiar eyes staring back.

It was your friend. 

An edge of annoyance seeped into your voice at the disruption, "The hell do you want?"

But your question was ignored with ease, instead, his lips moved soundlessly against the backdrop of the blaring music. You could barely make out the words as he mouthed to you, "Follow me." 

Before you could respond or protest, his grip on your shoulder tightened, and he began to pull you through the swarming mass of bodies. You struggled to keep up, your clumsy, drunken, legs stumbling as he guided you toward a table in a dark corner of the club. 

As you neared the table, your eyes caught sight of two men seated at one end, their faces obscured by the dim lighting. Though their faces were unfamiliar, something about their presence immediately set off alarm bells in your mind, a gnawing sense of unease began to worm its way inside your gut.

Your friend ushered you to sit down, his hand still firmly on your shoulder as if he could sense your hesitation, urging you forward even as every instinct told you to turn and walk away. Once the both of you were seated, you finally got a clear look at the men before you. 

They were undeniably handsome; the younger of the two looked to be in his 20s, while the other seemed slightly older, perhaps in his 30s or 40. Dressed in expensive suits, the kind that you could never dream to afford.

But it wasn’t their appearance that made your skin crawl—it was the way they watched you, their eyes cold and calculating, as if they were sizing you up, measuring your worth.

You felt a shiver run down your spine. 

Your friend began to speak again.

"Gentlemen, uh, this is [Y/N]." He gestured vaguely to you, a strained smile present on his face. You shot him a questioning look, unsure of what to do, but before you could ask, the younger man in the suit spoke for the first time.

His deep, amused voice filled the space between you as he leaned forward to meet your gaze. 

"Hey [Y/N]! We've heard a lot about you from your friend here."

"Ah.. yeah." you muttered, head still swimming from all the alcohol earlier. 

"You can call me Kei," he continued smoothly, gesturing to himself with a casual air. Then he pointed to the older man sitting beside him, who remained impassive. "And this grumpy guy right here is Victor."

You glanced over at 'Victor', noting the slight frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. His eyes were hard, and unreadable.

“Don’t pay him any mind, he’s always like this-”

"Listen, it's nice to meet you guys and everything," you began, trying to keep your voice steady as you forced yourself to focus. "But is there something I can help you with?" Your tone was more confrontational than you intended, but hell, you were never known for your charm in the first place.

"Straight to the point, I like it!" 'Kei' laughed lightly, taking a sip from the drink in front of him.

Despite the casual tone, there was an unmistakable edge to his words. "Yes there is something, actually. And it's quite urgent too."

"Hey you, can you leave us alone with your friend for a second?" He suddenly turned to address your friend, his eyes still trained on you— as if he didn’t want to lose sight of you for even a moment. "We just need to have a private conversation."

Your friend hesitated, glancing nervously between you and the young man, clearly unsure whether or not to comply. But Kei’s expression, though cheerful, was unyielding. The message was clear: this wasn’t a request, but a command. 

Reluctantly, your friend nodded and stood up, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as if to apologize before he slowly walked away, leaving you alone with the two men.

As you watched your friend disappear into the crowd, the reality of the situation began to sink in.

You were now face-to-face with these two strangers, and whatever they wanted, it was clear they weren’t leaving until they got it.

The older man finally spoke up for the first time, “We have reason to believe that you owe our client quite a significant amount of money."

‘Fuck.’

Your heart sank as recognition dawned upon you. 

A few months ago, while working under a false identity, you had managed to steal a large sum of money from a fairly notorious gang that ran the shady parts of town.

It hadn't been easy infiltrating their ranks, but with your sly tongue and a natural talent for reading people, it didn’t take long before you were climbing the ladder, earning the trust of their leader. To say he was displeased when he found out about this was probably putting it mildly. 

But who in their right mind would entrust their business finances to a well-known liar? That was just carelessness on their part. You had been on the run for a while now, but it was just pure misfortune that you had been caught on the one night you let your guard down.

Your only option here was to stall the two men and play dumb, hoping it would give you enough time to somehow escape from their grasp.

"I think you might have the wrong person," you replied carefully, keeping your voice steady despite the rapid thumping of your heart. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

The younger man raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. This wasn’t good. "I doubt it," he said, tone laced with dark amusement. "You know exactly what we're here for. We've actually been watching you for a while now. And this isn't the first time you've pulled something like this."

Kei reached out toward you, fingers hovering above your forearm. You flinched back instinctively, but before you could move, the older man, Victor, grabbed you tightly by the wrist. His grip was firm, sending a jolt of pain through you— it came as a clear warning that you weren’t going anywhere. 

"I have to say, I'm pretty impressed that you've lasted this long on your own. It’s not often someone manages to slip through our clutches. But everything comes to an end eventually, right?"

The mocking tone in his voice made your blood boil. You clenched your teeth at the sound. The situation was spiraling out of control, but you couldn’t let them see how scared you really were.

“If you’re smart,” Kei added, his voice dropping to a whisper that only intensified the threat, “you’ll come clean now. Tell us where the money is, and perhaps we won’t be so... hm… harsh.”

A surge of defiance flared up within you. Pushing aside the fear, you met his gaze head-on. "Not a chance, asshole!"

In a split second, you grabbed the half-empty glass in front of you and hurled it at Victor's face with all the force you could muster. The glass collided against his cheek with a sharp thud, and he grunted in surprise, releasing his grip on you.

It was the opening you desperately needed. Without wasting a moment, you scrambled to your feet, ignoring the searing pain in your left arm where he had held you, and bolted into the bustling crowd of the nightclub.

"Haha! I didn’t expect that. Thank God he aimed for you instead." Kei’s voice rang out behind you.

"...Shut up. We can't let him escape."

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you darted through the room, adrenaline pumping through your veins. The pounding bass of the music seemed to blur with the frantic beat of your heart as you dodged, and pushed past bodies, weaving your way through the sea of oblivious party goers who had no idea of the danger lurking so close.

You weren’t a good person. It was a fact that you wouldn’t deny.

You just didn’t think it would catch up to you this fast. 

After bumping into a couple and nearly tripping over your own feet, you finally broke free from the crowd and into a dark hallway leading to a side exit. You moved as quickly and quietly as possible down the corridor, every nerve inside your body on edge. 

But just as your fingers reached out for the door knob, a sudden, brutal force slammed into your ribs, sending a sharp, agonizing pain through your body.

The impact knocked the breath out of you, and you skidded across the filthy floor, crashing hard into the wall. 

Before you could regain your composure, a hand clamped down roughly on your neck. They dragged you into a nearby room, effectively cutting off any hope of escape.

"Sweetheart, you shouldn't have done that." A low chuckle vibrated through your skin as Kei's voice slithered from behind your ear. "I really didn't want to do this to you."

"Fuck off, you creep!" You spat, thrashing violently against his hold, desperation fuelling your every move. The other man in front of you raised his leg, clearly intending to kick you into submission, but was halted by an outstretched hand. 

"Hey, if you kick him that hard again he'll probably throw up all over me, do you know how much this suit costs?" He sighed, exasperation lacing his tone. The other man hesitated, clearly annoyed, but followed Kei’s lead and stepped back, a scowl etched on his face.

"Sorry about that, this guy can be a bit sadistic sometimes." Kei continued, still holding onto you tightly. "But let's get back to business. No one's coming to save you even if you scream— these rooms are sound-proof. So I'll ask you one more time; where are you hiding the money?"

"I don't have it! Let go of me, asshole! Why would I steal money from my own employer!?"

Your words barely had time to hang in the air before the cold edge of a knife pressed against your throat, the sharp metal cutting into the soft flesh. A soft whimper escaped your lips.

"I don't think you understand the situation that you're in now. Your boss hired us to teach you a lesson and retrieve his money. In cases like these, guys like you end up dead in a river."

"Did you spend it all? Are you a gambler? You don't really look the type..." His hand slid from your chest to your waist, squeezing gently, as he trailed off with a thoughtful hum. 

"I said—" Your words were cut off as Victor's fist collided brutally with the side of your head. The impact sent a blinding flash of pain through your skull, filling your vision with stars.

The older man then grabbed you by the hair, yanking your head back and forcing you to look up at him.

"I told you not to hurt his pretty face!" Kei yelped in protest from behind you.

Victor ignored the other man, his eyes cold and unforgiving as he stared down at you.

"If you can’t pay off your debt," he drawled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, "then we’ll have to find another way to reimburse the money that’s owed. Either you give us the full amount today, or you’re going to have to work for us to pay it off. What’s your decision?"

You swallowed thickly.

You couldn't think straight at the moment.

"Fuck! I'll do whatever you want, okay? Just— just please don't hurt me."

Kei chuckled softly in your ear, there was a hint of satisfaction in his voice as if he had finally gotten what he wanted,  "Ahh, that was so cute… Well, that's settled then! You're coming with us."

"What—"

WHAM!

The last thing you heard was the fading echo of Kei’s voice. The cold, hard floor seemed to rise up to meet you, plunging your world into darkness.

✦✧✦✧

The older man sighed as he took out a lighter from his pocket, the tiny flame flickering to life as he brought it to the tip of his cigarette.

He watched as his partner lifted your unconscious body into the backseat of his car with ease, before slamming the door shut with a final thud.

Kei turned around, a grin on his face as he flashed a thumbs-up.

Taking a slow drag of his cigarette, he returned the gesture with a nod, "Let's go."

They had waited so long to catch you, and now you were finally in their grasp.

The anticipation was almost intoxicating as he thought about what awaited you when you woke up.

This was only the beginning.  As he flicked the ash from his cigarette and slid into the driver’s seat, he couldn’t help but look at you through the rearview mirror. 

They had you now, and there was no escape.

✦✧✦✧

TLDR: Poor [Y/N] gets kidnapped :P Anyways, I wanted to make a duo that contrasted each other a lot. Sorry for this unedited mess.

[yanderedrabbles]

Sunk and Gone

Yandere! Gangster x Mafia Boss! Reader

Fluff, needy yandere, age difference, slightly suggestive content

He was just some dumb kid who played with fire.

Before he knew it, he was getting his ass kicked by the real deal, the big time guys.

He dropped your name out of pure desperation. He had no clue who you were really. He just wanted to save his own skin.

He never expected you to actually show up.

In your white tailored suit, you were like some mafioso guardian angel.

You tilted his chin up to face you and he couldn't bear to meet your eyes. You were goddamn terrifying.

"This little punk says he's one of mine?"

You lazily blew your cigar smoke into his face. It was black cherry, high class stuff. He can still remember the taste of it on his tongue, the way it made his whole body tingle.

He thought he was done for. You were probably gonna set your own guys on him for dropping names he had no business knowing.

He never expected you to save him.

His beat down gurus were cussing up a storm, saying he practically maimed one of their guys, he wouldn't even be able to walk for a week.

What bullshit. The most he did was give the guy a shiner before he was getting his own ass kicked.

You smiled at him then, like you knew exactly how much crap they were spewing.

You nodded and your guys threw a fat stack of cash on the table. All 100s. God, there must have been at least 5k just sitting there.

You hauled him to his feet and that's when he realised you were stronger than you looked too.

"Why?"

He barely even managed to ask that.

You were trying to light a new cigar and get back in your fancy car, but your lighter was just throwing up sparks.

He found himself reaching into his pocket and pulling out his shitty gas station lighter. He struck a flame and held it out to you.

You leaned in and caught his eyes for the second time that night. The flame was dancing in your eyes and you looked just like the devil.

He was sunk right then and there and he knew it.

He showed up outside your office everyday, waiting with his lighter clasped in his sweaty palm.

Everyday without fail, you would give him a chance to light one of your smokes for you.

"Don't you got someplace better to be kid?"

"No ma'am."

And he kept doing it, rain or shine or snow. On bad days, he'd bring his umbrella and unfurl it for you before you even stepped out of the car.

"You shouldn't keep hanging around kid. It ain't safe."

"I know ma'am."

He stayed, despite the dirty looks from the gangsters, despite the way they bumped into him hard enough to bruise. He stayed, stubborn as a goddamn mule, until you gave up on getting rid of him.

"I got a job for you kid."

"Anything you ask ma'am."

Oh he was a sucker for you. You had him hook, line and sinker without even trying.

And he worked hard. Running errands and then pushing drugs and then beating down the folks you set him loose on. There weren't any limits anymore, no line he wouldn't cross for you.

After a while, you let him in your guard rotation. And he was in bliss. He watched you constantly.

Hell, he couldn't take his eyes off you even if he wanted to. The capo himself said he was impressed with his diligence.

"Come here kid. You ever had oysters before?'

"No ma'am."

You were in one of your favourite restaurants, finishing up your meal and just drunk enough to have given yourself a pretty flush across your cheeks.

You made him lean toward you and gripped his chin before tilting the oyster into his mouth. It was salty and soft and his mind was going awful dirty awful fast.

After that he would order oysters whenever he could. He could almost feel your fingers on his skin when he ate them.

And soon he was part of your interrogation crew. His shirt sleeves rolled up and his forearms splattered with blood. He was putting on muscle now too and his punch hurt worse than a hammer to the face.

One unlucky son of a bitch made the mistake of insulting you right in front of him. God help him, when the anger cleared, the man's face was nothing more than pulp.

And you were watching him. One arm crossed under your breasts with the other balanced on it, a cigarette held up to your lips.

"You're a real good guard dog, you know that kid?"

"Thank you ma'am."

The next time you summoned him, you were in your office. Your heels were off and your legs were crossed, your stockings showing off the curves of your feet.

"Grab that pen for me."

It was on the floor under a side table and he had to get down on his knees to get it. When he moved to stand, you interrupted him.

"Don't get up. But bring it here."

"Yes ma'am."

He was grinning like a dog in heat. He put the pen in between his teeth and crawled on his hands and knees to you.

He sat at your feet like a goddamn puppy, his boner so fucking hard he thought it would rip through his trousers.

You cupped his chin in your palm and looked down at him. From down here, your legs looked a mile long and he wanted to lick every inch.

"You're such a loyal little thing, you know that?"

"Ysss mmm."

It was muffled because he still had that fucking pen in his mouth. And he was damn thankful for it too. Without something to bite onto, he was sure he'd actually be panting.

You took it carefully out of his mouth. A string of saliva followed it and you twitched your thumb across his lips to break the connection.

"Good boy."

You turned away from him, shaking the pen off a little and getting back to the books you were balancing.

He whimpered.

He actually fucking whimpered.

You smirked a little at that and shooed him away with one perfectly manicured hand. He dragged his feet walking out of there, his boner killing all higher thinking. Just hoping and praying you would call him back.

He turned to look at you before he closed the door. You had your face resting in one hand and you were tapping the pen against your lips with the other. Your eyes were entirely focused on your books.

And he felt it all over again. He was sunk - hook, line and sinker.

He was your loyal dog. Now and always.

[2-dsimp]

Since you won’t give us a Yandere harem, I would like to kindly demand for you to give us Yandere twins instead.

Like where are those twins that are suffocating me in their loving embrace, one twin has to constantly be with their darling, they can’t leave her alone to the beasts. Where is the twin who is mocking me for being overstimulated, whilst the other twin is right behind me whispering sweet nothings in my ear as if he isn’t the one jack-hammering into me. Where is the twin that distracts me, and whisks me away to look at the cute dress I really liked, whilst the other twin is gouging out the eyes of the guy who happened to glance in my direction for a moment. (He was looking a dress behind me for his own girlfriend)

Give me twinsssssss, pleaseeeee. I’m dying over hereeeeee. I’ll even take triplets! Now that be extra yummy! It can’t be Yandere’s without the classic twins. 😭😭😭

Thank you for reading this rant, please give us a harem 🤧

- 💎 anon

—-/———

[Nah yall want a harem this is how it’s gonna be. Imagine a pod of bully! dolphin male hybrids, and a fem! Chubby pufferfish darling.]

Cw: MDNI NSFW!

-//———————/——————-//——

The bully dolphins were the gangsters of the sea. They took and pillaged whatever they wanted. They may look innocent on the outside but they oftentimes took turns passing you around like a blunt. Without a care in the world as they got high off that sweet toxic pheromones you’d release whenever they’d toy with you.

“Awe look at our lil creampuff! Hey don’t be so rough on em boss! I wanna ruin them too!”

The petite dolphin trilled, patting your head affectionately as if you were a dog. Nosing against your cheek and pressing kisses to your scent glands. Praising you for how much of a cock loving whore you were for them.

“Yeah, you’re Goddamn right about that Qao, hey old man how bout you hurry up already? I’m itching for a turn.”

The heavily scarred dolphin, chuffed, his gills flaring impatiently. As he occupied himself with jerking off with their adorable chubby pufferfish’s jiggling tits. Groaning at the feel of their softness squeezing and message his neglected length.

“There’s no point Gaeju, the leaders a selfish prick. Who can’t function without his daily dose of our puff slut.”

Droned the tired lanky dolphin, making do with lazily folding your leg, to stuff his slimy sheath in between the junction. Of where your calf meets the back of your plush thighs.

Meanwhile the weathered and seasoned bully dolphin, Eashe was currently caressing your love handles. Sneering at the offending comments by the yapping calves.

“Shut the fuck up Gaeju, Qao, Linov! You lot talk a lot of shit for greenhorn guppies who can’t do nuthin without me.”

The leader snarled, whilst enjoying your squeals and pitiful cries for a break. Whenever his heavy balls slapped hard and fast against your swollen folds like a piston.

“Who do you think makes our bitch exude the most toxins hah? That’s right, me and my meat, this pussy’s swallowing up like an addict. Ya’ll better be grateful for riding off my coattails now piss off and lemme enjoy myself.”

He clicked with a scowl thrown at his pod. His huge hands gripped firmly onto your soft curves. Making sure his breeding bitch wouldn’t escape from his heavy knot splitting you open like a watermelon. Pumping more of his nut trail mix Into your gaping abused cunt.

—-/———/———/———

A/n: are y’all satisfied? You harem lovers lmao💀

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Happy Ending Masterlist

→ warning | All the stories in this series are yandere-themed, so they include 18+ and potentially triggering content (dubcon/noncon, violence, gore, explicit language, obsession and and many other dark things). I recommend these stories only to adult audiences familiar with this genre.

→ a/n | Hi, guys! Yes, Happy Ending is indeed becoming a series. I decided to create this official masterlist not only to help you know when the next stories will be released, but also to show you upcoming plots. Thank you for all the support you've given to both Happy Ending and Dark Moon. ❤️

→ available stories | Happy Ending || J.JK - Dark Moon || P.JM

→ side note | After Happy Ending all stories can be read in any order ❤️

Taglist is open: @katherine-kookie @btsuga-d @douknowbts @aiiselle90210 @fewercascade @mageprincess7 @m00njinnie @get-that-brain-working @whipwhoops @dragons-flare @takemeaway5402 @seokjins-luigi @pjmsneverland @jimincrystal @ajkwww @ungodlyjoon @hecateslittlewitchling @namjoonsbuspass @darkuni63 @xicanacorpse @jiminismine4ever @btssimplove @antisocial-mochi267 @reallygenerouskoala @velvet-stardust2002 @angelicsmilesworld @dabishou @ke1k029 @lennieharper @pantara

⤷ Introduction:

"Don't be shy, at the Dark Moon, every form of pleasure is allowed. Sweet promises overflowing with sadism are savored like candy in this sin-stained place. Go ahead, choose one of our gentlemen, or why not, maybe even all seven, and enjoy the show.

Just one piece of advice before you begin: don't cry."

➤ Story | work in progress...

➤ Role | Boss - Strategist - Public Face

➤ Nickname/Alias | Phantom

⤷ Summary | If sadness had a face, it would be his; you think this while your house is on fire.

➤ Story | work in progress...

➤ Role | Underboss - Handler - Enforcer

➤ Nickname/Alias | Seraph

⤷ Summary | He was the kind of person who could seduce with intelligence and culture; you would never have guessed that a monster was hiding inside him.

➤ Story | work in progress...

➤ Role | Sniper - Recruiter - Trainer

➤ Nickname/Alias | Nocturne

⤷ Summary | The shadow you used to see darting into your room at night when you were a child is back, now taller and more imposing… it's him.

➤ Story | work in progress...

➤ Role | Hitman - Torturer - Bruiser

➤ Nickname/Alias | Howl

⤷ Summary | A beast — that's what you thought when he raised his searing eyes to you.

➤ Story | Dark Moon

➤ Role | Hitman - Kidnapper - Torturer

➤ Nickname/Alias | Arctic

⤷ Summary | You had asked God for help, but the devil himself answered you; now accept the consequences.

➤ Story | work in progress...

➤ Role | Accountant - Dealer - Hitman

➤ Nickname/Alias | Eclipse

⤷ Summary | His smile had drawn you in, but it was the blood on his clothes that kept you by his side.

➤ Story | Happy Ending

➤ Role | Bruiser - Hitman - Torturer

➤ Nickname/Alias | Fyrius

⤷ Summary | It had started with sweet and innocent love, then everything was tinged with danger.

© | I do not allow the republication or editing of these stories by third parties; all rights belong to me. Anyone guilty of the crime of plagiarism will be reported and blocked. The same goes for those who take parts of my stories without my explicit consent.

[trivia-yandere]

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

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

nefarious

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

@momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree

word count: 4.442

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

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

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

It’s been three months.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I could say you raped me.”

There it was - the kicker.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I could kill you later.” Jungkook retorts. 

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

Jungkook swallows.

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

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

“What’s your name?” Jungkook asked.  

“Y/N.”

 Jungkook lowers his gun. “Jungkook.”

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

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

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

“No.” you hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not leaving without them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your first mistake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[running-with-kn1ves]

Hii ! I wanted to ask if you could do more yandere gangster.

A/N: here's a ramble that is similar to so many other fics/imagines but its ALL I CAN THINK OF RN...

CW: kidnapping, yandere themes, murder, illicit substances mentioned, weaponry, some suggestive thots, general dark content shtuff.

Gangster! Yan who’s the right hand man to one of your city’s oldest gangs, the bosses family operating it since the prohibition era. Their main source of income back then was smuggling alcohol to different speakeasies and clubs, now mostly dabbling in the occasional shipment of opioids or small arms that they can get their hands on. Your gangster! Yan doesn’t handle that side of business, though. He’s been tasked to oversee deals, and the protection of the boss and whatever sweet treat he has on his arm for the evening.

When a ‘project’ goes haywire, he’s there to settle things. When someone needs to be taken care of, he oversees it while his boys do what they need to. And when there’s a witness to a particularly unsavory part of business, he personally sees to shutting them up. 

That’s why he didn’t have a choice but to watch you, to learn your morning routine and stare intensely when you perused the grocery isles indecisively. The boss put him up to it, to dispose of every flaw in their seamless operations; countless times he entered your backdoor, breaking the lock you had just replaced due to his previous endeavor, watching you curl up in warm white sheets and smush your face against your pillow. Standing outside wasn’t an option anymore, his shadow from the window disturbed you, and it blocked the trickle of moonlight on your dewey skin. 

Even with the small pistol in his hidden coat pocket, the crowbar he ued to pry the door open, the compulsion to rid you of what you had seen to appease his leader could not overtake the complete desire to rub his face into your chest, to have your thighs wrapped around his head like a sea of warmth, needing that earthy scent of your skin that somehow calmed his screaming heart to completely surround him. 

What drew him to you was how alone you had been-- at home, at the scene of the crime, when you were out and about. Who would miss you? Who was there to take care of you? What would be the purpose to killing you? You hadn’t even gone to the police yet, despite the millions of questionable asks you submitted to reddit and looked up online for what to do after seeing a man’s murder. 

The roughly edged gangster found it endearingly cute, so foreign to the life he had led. You had no way of stopping him if he completed what he was supposed to, no one to turn to if you suddenly found yourselves at the hands of a shady group of men who used you as a drug mule. 

Gangster! Yan knew the kind of underlings his boss employed, easy men on probation or past druggies who wouldn’t think for a minute to stop from gobbling you up on the side of the street if you just so happened to walk down the wrong alley. Seeing as you had stupidly yet to make a distinct change your route after witnessing his gangs work, it could happen any day now. 

He couldn’t let you fall prey to the men he didn’t have a leash on, nor let you continue to live in such suffocating solitude with that neutral look on your face forever. Even if it was only filled with fear from now on, from him-- he’d give you a better life than what you lived.

It was too easy to take you, too easy to drag you to his car, too easy to put you in the decent condo he had been paying for the past decade and barely came home to. Now, he had just realized, he’d have a real reason to come back home. He couldn’t just sleep the night away in shitty bars just to wake up to the next day of work. He had to take care of you, feed you, make sure you bathed. 

Gangster! Yan was almost as surprised when he gave you the cold shoulder, heartlessly teasing you for your stupidity in walking down a known drug-trade neighborhood, for not having realized that he had stalked  you every. single. Day. as you were blind to his heavy, broad shadow of scars and grimaces.

You were so quietly willing to appease him, to scoot to his lap when he demanded it with a threatening hand over his pocket, pretending as if the empty space was a weapon. “Please don’t kill me” you asked neverendingly, every meek breath expecting a slap or a shove off. But the criminal held onto you tighter, hating the reminder that you weren’t a willing pet. 

Even when your eyes faded back with ecstasy, your arms thrown around his shoulders with a grip that only a lover could offer, he saw the flinch you gave when he bent down to kiss you. 

Even with his harsh spats that he throws at you for your mistakes, his belittlement, you are his comfort doll when he’s deal with hardships for the day. When the horrible things he’s done starts to get to him and the alcohol doesn’t drown it out,  or when one of his drop-offs go to shit, you’re the one he bee-lines for for to rant to, to make you stroke him and nod at how hard he’s worked. But his possessiveness is soul-crushing. His grip is painful when he holds you at night, his kisses rough against your mouth with his chain-smoker breath and chapped lips that haven’t been touched in ages.

But with you, he’s learned to take better care of himself. He already has you, wants you in every way, but he needs you to want him, to need him. So, coming home to shower, geling his hair back like he did as a young rookie, shaving his 5 o’clock shadow, he’s made himself into the perfect, respectable man-- or wannabe bad boy. But no amount of grooming could change your perception of the blood stained gangster that kept you in a cage before you were trustworthy enough to be chained to the bed. 

“I’ve killed for you, who else could say that?” 

“Been thinkin’ bout you all day, waiting here for me. Came home as fast as I could so you wouldn’t be lonely. A nobody like you can’t be left to your own devices for too long.”

“Won’t let no other fucker get a hold of you, you’re mine-- through and through. I’ll kill us both before something seperates us.

[seventhcallisto]

GIOM m.

꒦꒷ ✦ pairings: yandere! mafialeaders! matz x afab!reader (poly) hinted other yandere! members x reader.

꒷꒦ ✦ rating: 18+ !

꒦꒷ ✦ genre: ateez (hongjoong & seonghwa). toxic relationships. yandere. action. gangs + mafia. coercion. quick pining. smut.

꒷꒦ ✦ warnings: yanderes, obsessive/possessive behavior, mafia, violence, fighting, death, weapons, death, kidnapping, eventual and explicit smut.

° 。 ⋆༺MA♱Z༻⋆ 。 °

1 — a promise is a swear 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13.

Kim Hongjoong.

Park Seonghwa.

This is a mini series! (Mini) as in shorter chapters for easier writing on my part. Everything happens quickly too. Stay tuned!

None - if not all of it - is proofread, nor is this an accurate representation to the idols themselves, this is completely fiction and a work made by ©️ seventhcallisto here on tumblr. Please do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my works.

color banners : @rookthornesartistry

reblog banner : @benkeibear

[recreationalfanfics]

Yandere! Roman Sionis x Reader

Note: I have a huge crush on Roman Sionis (not the BoP version) so I wanted to try my hand at writing him <3 Also, I am going with the version where he can take the mask off.

Tw. Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics

Roman Sionis was a lot of things.

He was a trust fund kid who relied on daddy’s money all his life until he decided to take that money for himself.

He was a horrible business man so he turned into a mob boss, you know, as you do.

He was a whack job who had a sick and twisted obsession with you and was currently holding you captive.

But you honestly think that the worst part about him was that he was incredibly snarky and condescending. To you at least, his countless victims would most likely complain about his sadistic and brutal torture methods, but you doubt that you’d ever experience that for yourself. Mostly because Roman knew how to psychologically torture people in other ways.

“There we go, don’t you feel all pretty now?” He hummed, tilting his masked face and speaking in a way that made you know he was smirking. 

The scene is tense for everyone. His gangsters stand behind the other tailors who are sobbing quietly as they sit on one knee, you can feel the uneasiness of the two tailors behind you as they silently pray and beg repentance for every sin they’ve committed, but what makes it worse is that all eyes are on you. You want to avoid speaking, one of Roman’s favorite pastimes is to find a way to misinterpret your words on purpose so he could have an excuse to kill someone, to guilt you into thinking that you were the one who condemned them to death despite him pulling the trigger. You feel your stomach churn, knowing that someone was going to die for Roman’s own amusement, and he knew it too.

“C’mon, give Daddy a twirl, yeah?” He hums. 

Daddy.

You scrunch your nose in disgust. You absolutely hated it when he called himself that, it made you want to shrink into yourself, and rip your ears off so you’d never have to hear him say it again. He probably knew you hated it too, guessing by the way he chuckled at your incredibly obvious reaction, and it’s probably the only reason why he says it. Still, you do as he says because you have no choice and try to twirl for him enthusiastically. The last time you tried to be nonchalant about a gift as a form of subtle protest was when you were getting fitted for a ring, that resulted in one person losing their life and the employees getting all of their ring fingers cut off, and you know what Roman said to justify/blame it on you?

“You deserve only the best, sweetheart. If they can’t give it to you, then I don’t think they should be alive.”

Maybe in another life, where you were an equally depraved criminal, you would’ve found his words to be genuine and sweet. However, you knew that Roman Sionis was incapable of being genuine and sweet, and that this was another one of his mind games. A warning for future reference that if you wanna try and resist him, even in the most tiniest and insignificant ways, he will not stand for it. 

“Absolutely stunning.” He praises, standing up to walk towards you. 

You resist the urge to step away from him, no matter how strong it may be, because you know that’s another way to get someone killed. Instead you stand there, obediently like the good spouse you were, and don’t flinch when he brings a gloved hand to the diamond necklace around your neck.

“But you know me, I’m a sucker for you wearing anything expensive,” He says, almost in a tender tone as if there was some truth to his words, but you don’t think about that. Instead, you think about his next sentence:

“What do you think about it?”

You gulp and you look up at him, your eyes silently begging him not to do this to you. Not to make you have to stand outside the shop as you hear gunshots and crying, shamelessly throwing his arm around you with small droplets of blood decorating his nice white suit, and leaving you lying away from his body as your haunted by what you could have done differently even if you knew Roman wouldn’t have let you. His dark eyes stare back at you with nothing but a mischievous glee and you were on higher alert than ever.

“I love it!” You say, forcing your best smile and cheery tone.

He fidgets with your necklace between his fingers, his eyes now studying the way the diamond sparkles rather than your incredibly unconvincing expression, and he just says: “Yeah? That right?”

 Still, you nod eagerly and continue to try and guess what he wants to hear: “Yeah, it looks really good on me, I think! I really like the style, a-and the material, and the uh-” You lose your train of thought as he slowly lets go of the diamond hanging from the sterling silver chain, letting it fall back down to your chest as he slowly starts to walk behind you, and the goosebumps start to rise on your skin. You didn’t like this, you didn’t like this at all, but you still tried your best to keep going, “the, um, the color is nice.”

“The color, hm?” He mumbles, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as he lowers his mouth (or where it’s supposed to be) next to your ear, “You sure about the color, sweet thing?”

You nod your head again, giving a shrill “mhm!” because your words are dying in your throat. You hated it when he got too close like this, it made you nervous, and you wanted him to get away from you. You wanted to push him off, to scream and run, but you also knew you couldn’t do that. His silence made the very blood in your veins run cold but set your mind on fire as you were trying to figure out how to salvage this already doomed moment. 

“Really? Because you hate this color.” Roman states, his hands moving from your shoulders to your waist.

Someone’s sobs become a little louder than the rest and when Roman turns his head to look at them, you quickly turn around to face him again and put your hands on his chest. It does what you intended it to do because his eyes are back on you.

“I changed my mind!” 

“Nah, I don’t think you did. If I recall, you absolutely hate this color because it reminds you of me.”

There’s an edge to his voice now, a petty “gotcha” kind of one. He wasn’t wrong, though, because he tried to give you something in the same horrendous color early on when he abducted you and you blew him off. Saying how you wouldn’t want something so gross and so…him. You gulp, realizing two things: 1. Roman had an excellent memory regarding you and 2. You just lied to his face. 

And he hated it even more when you lied.

You stammer out apologies and excuses, anything that could help the situation but he steps away from you before taking out his concealed gun. One of the workers lets out a fearful cry and tries to back away but one his False Facers comes and grabs them by their shoulders, walking closer towards Roman despite the fearful protest of the poor innocent civilian. They were going to be the first one to die.

“I mean, c’mon, none of ya had the decency to look at how unhappy they were when they saw the color? None of you guys stopped to ask them what was wrong and fix it and put a smile on their precious little face?” He shakes his head as he loads his weapon. They beg for their lives as you try to plead with the devil himself.

“Roman, please, they probably didn’t want to go against you! Th-They knew that you knew best and I- I promise I love this color-” 

You sound so pathetic, yipping at the big dog not to use his fangs, but you had no power here. No one did except for Roman Sionis, a man who never did anything other than to get more power for himself and to make others miserable, even the one he claimed to love the most. 

Then it hits you.

Your body reacts faster than your mind as you take the fleeting opportunity to have one hand grab his mask and the other to grab his tie. Not even Roman was aware of what was happening as he tensed up the moment he felt your lips against his. You gripped the mask tightly in your free hand as you kept a strong hold on his tie, even pulling him closer towards you as if you were trying to chain him to you. As if forcing yourself to do this usually romantic and loving act is enough to break his need for blood. And it does.

Once Roman understands what’s going on, he drops his gun and cups your face with his hands as he kisses you back. Tilting his head to the side to deepen it and his body relaxes. You might not see it but you cloud your mind completely. His eyes stay open for a while as he sees one beautiful tear stream down your cheek before they go half lidded and he surrenders himself to this bliss.

You’re making his heart do the thing again.  You did it to him the first time he met you, then you did it the second time, then so on and so forth, and here you go doing it again to him. You wonder why he’s so addicted to you, don’t worry, he does too. He wonders why he bothers with such an ungrateful little brat who doesn’t appreciate his gestures and only pays attention to the crimson that stains his hands, why he bothers with someone who sleeps on the farthest part of their bed as if Roman was some horrible monster they didn’t want to touch, but it’s times like this that he remembers why. It’s because you were the only one who could make him feel this way, who could give him a taste of what love felt like, but also made him feel so powerful when you did stuff like this as a last resort.He pulls away for air, your lips chase after him despite being out of breath as well to try and buy a little more time, but he’s just gonna tease you later and ask if he was just that damn good of a kisser. 

Roman stares at you again, this time really looking at you, and his hands still cup your face gently. His pants softly under his breath as one thumb from his hand gently caresses your cheek. You stare at him with hopeful eyes and while he does love keeping you at the bottom of his heel and remind you whose in charge…he figures that this time it wouldn’t hurt to let you have your way.

“On second thought, boys,” He starts and he loves the way you edge closer to him unintentionally, “...Let ‘em go, they can be off the hook. This time.”

You let out a breath of relief but then shyly hand Roman back his mask, your hand letting go of his tie and wrapping your arm around his. As he puts on his mask, he relishes in the feeling of you resting your head on his shoulder and being more affectionate with him. Maybe you were so relieved that you managed to get through to him or maybe you were just exhausted with everything that went down but you fall asleep on his shoulder during the ride home and when he’s done admiring the sight, he gently puts his head on top of yours.

[ilovespec]

Shark Love ~

Yandere Fem ! Gang leader × civilian Fem ! reader. Part 1

WARNING!!!: description OF SEVERE WOUNDS , swearing in Italian , yandere has anger problems, just fucking gang members , YANDERE HERSELF IS THE LEADER of THE GANG , a small description of torture , a sadistic character , Yandere is a female , and Y/N too.

6834 words

part 2

part 3

Today, Y/N has finally started life with a clean slate.. Finally she moved to a new city! There were just some strange moments... Firstly.. Housing prices are too pleasant... Secondly, salaries are higher here than in her city.. And what is even more strange.... There are too many jobs and vacant houses here... Maybe it 's just not such a busy city , and that 's a good thing! Then no one will make noise under the windows at night! Although there will be no noise under the windows, much worse things will happen..

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

Y/N has already managed to find a job! She got a job in an office, which fortunately was next to her house! And that's a little weird... Next to the house where her apartment was.. Strange people often hung around.. Namely, unusually tall and muscular women and men..covered in scars and tattoos... Perhaps it's just avid bikers ..? Really .. Yes ..? After all, when selling her apartment, the realtor did not tell her that this is a criminal area...!!! It's possible that she's just winding herself up and it's just bikers... But for some reason, their clothes don't look very much like biker ones... Tank tops without sleeves...polo shirts... Turtlenecks... Sweatpants or classic trousers, formal suits with ties.... And not a single hint of leather jackets or other biker stuff... Which is strange... Okay, maybe Y/N just developed a little paranoia......

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

It was late in the evening...Y/N was returning home from work... It was already about 7-8 o'clock in the evening... Suddenly ! She heard screams of pain, agony, and sobs from the alley... Foolishly, Y/N came unsteadily, looked into the alley and was horrified.... THERE WAS A GUY BLEEDING ON THE GROUND!!! His left hand was already missing fingers and half of the skin... And it is clear that the wound has already slightly festered due to the dirt.. There were already many burns on his right hand , and 3 fingers were broken .. HIS FACE DIDN 'T EVEN FUCKING RESEMBLE A FACE , BUT MINCED MEAT !!! And all this was done to him , and the strange girl continued to do it ..next to her , on the asphalt lay bloody pliers, a hammer, a dagger and various other scary sharp things covered in blood.. She was wearing a black turtleneck, and black classic trousers with lace-up boots.. She had long, grey hair slightly disheveled to the waist, and pale skin... Y/N couldn't see her face because this girl had her back to her.. And she kept torturing the poor guy.. But after a couple of seconds, SHE TURNED AROUND AND STARED AT Y/N WITH A SADISTIC GRIN!! She has narrow brown eyes, Asian facial features and quite a few scars on her face..

- CLEARLY A FUCKING DANGEROUS GIRL: ohh~ what kind of cute lamb wandered in here ~ you look like you're going to faint~ ah, aren't you having fun? ~ I'm just punishing this pathetic insect who betrayed the boss and gave out important information to another gang~

Y/N backed away, and met something solid with her back. She thought it was a wall... But this creepy and dangerous girl stared at this "wall" that was behind Y/N, and stuttered slightly..

- CLEARLY A FUCKING DANGEROUS GIRL: O-oh... B-Boss.... Haha.. B-But I'm c-conducting an interrogation.. Oh, I w-was about to t-take that g-girl down.. B-Boss don't w-worry-

This OBVIOUSLY dangerous girl broke off at the end of her word because this supposedly wall, which turned out to be a woman, jerked from behind Y/N AND PUNCHED HER RIGHT IN THE FACE OF THIS GIRL , and began shouting obviously furious words ... Uhhh... What language is this...? Italian seems to be...

-A strange savior: MIKI MORI HAI GIÀ SUPERATO IL LIMITE !!! QUESTA DOLCE RAGAZZA È UNA CITTADINA ORDINARIA CHE È APPENA PASSATA E DEVI TROVARE UN POSTO MIGLIORE PER INTERROGARE, VEDI QUANTO È SPAVENTATO QUESTO AGNELLO, HAH?!!?! HAH?!!??

While her strange savior was yelling at this dangerous girl.. And her savior was ALSO CLEARLY MORE DANGEROUS THAN THIS GIRL MANY TIMES OVER !! Y/N was able to see it... Her approximate height was 6'5 feet, she had Italian facial features (which is clear from the language she is shouting in now)... She has a rather unusual hairstyle... Short, like a man's.. And the coloring of her hair is a little strange.. Each of her strands alternates between white and yellow ... She has tanned skin.. Blue eyes... Broad shoulders and A LOT OF SCARS ON HER ARMS!! a small piercing on the lower lip and on the left eyebrow... There is a scar on the left side of her jaw.. And there's a longish scar on her right eye, like an animal wound.. And the scariest and strangest thing about her.. SHE'S GOT FUCKING TEETH ALMOST LIKE A SHARK'S!!! THE TIPS OF HER TEETH ARE SHARPENED , FUCK!!! It's scary.. But at the same time it suits her strangely..She is wearing a grey polo shirt, black trousers, a black leather belt with an iron plaque, and classic black leather shoes..AND ABRUPTLY !! Someone gently grabbed her armpits and carried her out of the alley like a cat...

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

It was.. More simply, but also a menacing-looking girl..She has dark brown hair..It's also a man's haircut, but a longer one.. German and soft facial features.. Blue eyes.. Prominent cheekbones..FUCK !! SHE HAS A SCAR STRETCHING FROM THE LEFT CORNER OF HER MOUTH AND PROTRUDING FANGS LIKE AN ANIMAL!!! Piercing of the left eyebrow and piercing in the ears.. A scar on her neck.. AND THERE ARE A LOT OF FUCKING SCARS ON HER HANDS TOO!! She is wearing a white sleeveless T-shirt, black sweatpants with a white stripe on their right side, a black bandana on her head , and simple black and white sneakers

- Quite a beautiful but threatening girl: Uh... Hi, are you okay..? You better not look.. My boss, the shark, is scolding my friend right now... We call her "dolphin" because of her habits and.. How to say it... An unnecessarily sadistic and evil character... and... uh... well... I'm Martina by the way.. And you? >-<

-Y/N: I'm fine myself.. But I'm pretty scared... uh.. Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N..

As a sign of familiarity, Martina gently patted Y/N on the shoulder.. Her hands are so callused..

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

When the furious screams in Italian stopped from the alley, this "boss shark" came out.

-Mysterious and OBVIOUSLY dangerous "boss shark": So, piranha. Take the dolphin to her apartment, and I'll take this carino cittadino to her house..

thisa mysterious and dangerous woman HUGGED HER BY THE SHOULDERS, AND WAVING GOODBYE TO HER SUBORDINATE, CONFIDENTLY WALKED WITH Y/N TO HER HOUSE!!

-A mysterious and OBVIOUSLY dangerous "boss shark": Well.. As far as I remember, ordinary civilians have a bad nervous system, I hope you weren't too "traumatized" by seeing this? There was literally almost a living corpse there..

Y/N shook her head , and continued walking in embarrassment

-Mysterious and OBVIOUSLY dangerous "boss shark": my name is Squalo. I won't tell you my last name, you won't remember it. And as far as I've heard, you're Y/N. Nice name, it suits you..

Squalo gave Y/N a toothy smile, showing her shark teeth..

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

A few minutes later they reached her house.

-Squalo: Good night to you, agnello carino~

Squalo ruffled Y/N's hair and winked at her and left with her hands in her pockets... It was definitely an evening...and with a slightly heavy soul, Y/N went into her apartment and went to sleep..

How do you like this part?? in a couple of minutes I'll post a description and drawings of these characters >3<

lol, I'm 100% sure that Squalo will have this on the second wallpaper on the phone : (on the first wallpaper, of course, Y/N.)

Carino cittadino: cute citizen.

Agnello carino: cute lamb

(I think it makes no sense to translate into English just Italian swearing..)

[jujutsukgojo]

The less you know, the better 2

the final chapter.

Chapter 1

Shouto Todoroki x reader Summary: Only sixty seconds. tw: yandere, gang implications, angst, escape, ambiguous ending

The hair on your arms stands up. Ever since that night, you see your ‘friends’ everywhere. Just last week on the corner Kyoka was flipping a coin calling heads. She smiled and gave a wave. Usually, you’d talk for hours. This time the warning was there. It grabbed your throat before you could say anything. The gleam in her eyes and a brief knowing smirk haunted you the entire day. You shook your head and took off in the opposite direction. This has happened repeatedly and with different people of your past. None of the interactions are innocent anymore.

Not when everything seems to have a hidden meaning. Their masks have been chipped away and revealed something ugly inside. Even the most innocent ones have shown their true colors. That night when you went to them for help, Izuku, who has always been kind, was vicious—not at all like the friend you knew. Just yesterday, he touched your arm and paid for your food at a vendor. It reminded you of how he used to be before you lifted the veil. 

Because of how fast he switched, Izuku scares you the second most, right after Shouto. Your dear friend, with a sanguine composition and a timid demeanor, has a terribly contradicting facade. The only thing that has remained is how headstrong he is. His smile is fake, you now know. 

However, he doesn’t compare to Shouto. The man who asks you to marry him every chance he gets is a slower agony. The shatter of his glass face hit harder. You had accidentally ripped the veil to shreds and discovered what he really looks like. You witnessed a murder and were subject to his intimidation, yet the punch of reality hadn’t truly hit you until you saw him everywhere. Letters, phone calls, texts, flowers, all of it. It’s like slowly opening a creaking door with false hope for a lit exit only to find a monster behind it. 

All of them are in it. This entire time you thought they were good. Your friends are supposed to be safe . They are his eyes and are everywhere. His power extends more than you realize not just with your friends but people who are supposed to be respectable and noble have a wicked face of deceit and villainy. Who knows who they have hurt or killed just because Shouto said so?

Now you are walking away from your apartment in the dead of night. Naively, you gave all your friends a key to it when you first moved in. It was just out of safety and precaution, of course. Never would you have thought that they’d be sitting on the couch when you get home and tell you that Shouto wants to talk to you and then ask with a fake saccharine face if you have been okay. 

Tonight, no one was there but you can feel them. You know that he has dogs just waiting for you to come out and do God knows what. That chill that runs up your arms and back, settling inside your head to check every corner. Or worse, that cold feeling of eyes watching you attempt to walk away with stiff movements, only to stop you in your tracks and freeze. Luckily, you’re doing that stiff walking thing to the train station.

You packed lightly and kept the TV on if he stakes the place out. You took off out the backdoor of the apartment building as quietly as a mouse and used the alley as a cover. Hopefully, it worked. It wouldn’t surprise you if Shinsou or the retired Aizawa, was lurking around on the roof. Aizawa, is he in it? Could your strict, precise, and logical teacher be in on it? Would Shinsou since he is Aizawa’s protegee? It’s already terrible that Izuku is doing it since he worked directly under Toshinori Yagi. Imagine falling that far from grace. Even Shouto, whose father is Enji Todoroki, shares the same teachers as Izuku does. 

These people could all be wicked. After going to your once-trusted friends that night, your next reaction was to go to people Shouto respected, except for his father, of course. Before you made that decision, you stopped and thought. If they stand with Shouto, they could be worse. For all you know, Shouto might have inherited this.

You board the train with shaking hands and bitten lips. The hoodie can only hide your face so much as you nestle into it, shivering from the cold and anxiety. There aren’t many people here. Just a few stragglers and late-night workers. No one who looks like trouble or bothersome in any way. Some of them are resting their eyes and look exhausted. 

Your pumping heart finally slows down and makes your eyelids droop. After all this stress, it is finally starting to wear you down enough to drift you away in sleep. You open your eyes and stretch your neck. It is still dark out so you haven’t slept that long, thankfully. The likelihood of you missing your stop is fairly slim. You yawn once more.

“Don’t worry, no one messed with your stuff.”

Slowly, your eyes move in his direction. He’s right next to you, perfectly content. Next to you is a broad man with dual-colored hair and a prominent scar on the left side of his face. Even with the large scar that would make people wonder if it still hurts, it doesn’t take away how pretty he is. Not when he looks like he was carved out of the smoothest marble.

“Shouto…” You whisper in disbelief. Looking around, you see not a single soul on the train. “They left a while ago. I was going to wake you up but you looked the most peaceful you’ve been in weeks.” 

Words are caught in your throat and heat is to your cheeks, not from flattery, but shock. Perhaps it has made its way into your bones. Your heart seems to have stopped, shocked stiff from what’s happening. How did you not hear him? How could you not have sensed his presence next to you, feel the intimidation that rolls off of him like steady waves? You might have always been blind to him. The longer you look at him, the more you question why you're speechless. Is it from his sudden appearance or that you rested? It's a scary question since you feel a sort of calmness in his presence.

What should scare you to the grave doesn’t. Instead, you slept beside him and rested, feeling secure. How could you think that way with everything going on? Rather than jumping over him and booking it, you sit. Because you still feel it, just like you did before with him. 

What he does in secret has tainted his image to you completely. However, is it possible that it hasn’t changed what he is to you? 

No. No, he is a killer. A ringleader of God knows what and a stalker. You’re in danger, jeopardy in other terms. 

“Shouto…” You whisper again. He raises his brow. “Hm?” 

He’s acting normal. Completely oblivious to your wobbling lip and shaky breath. No, it’s more likely that he doesn’t care. 

“Please move.” 

Safe, yet scared. Two distinct and conflicting emotions that aren't supposed to coexist.

“Why?”

“I need to leave.”

He frowns. “Where are you going? It’s dark and cold, soba noodle.”

You still are breathless. “I need to go, please.”

He’s still for a minute. “There’s nowhere to run, my love.” His voice is soft and assured. Like he knows what he says is completely true. The implication of how little power you have grinds against you. 

“Please move.” You cannot say anything other than a small mutter, a breathy plea he can hear. Something you hope he can take because that is all you can give. 

He gets up and lets you through. With ragged breaths, you hurry away without your carry-on. It was the only thing you took out of that apartment. You run towards the door and glance back. Shouto remains there looking down with a glum look on his face. Like an idiot, you turn to face him. The look on his face is reminiscent of his high school days. Cold and rejected, yet like a puppy who’s lost and hurt. He hasn’t looked up. It looks like he’s being serious about you getting out. 

Damn him, damn your heart and all of your beloved memories with it. With the palm of your hand, you want to wipe away that sadness that he’s showing, that he thinks you don’t see. Little by little his eyes show a familiar dullness in them. He's slowly gluing blocks of ice that were chipped away years ago. There are no signs of anger or hatred. Only loss.

Although he’s physically matured, you still see the Shouto you knew. He grew into his features that are famously half his mother’s and father’s. Despite that physical growth, you see him. That boy became your friend. One that you grew to love and wanted to spend your life with. If there had been enough time, you would’ve jumped into his arms.

God, you love him and always have. Why did it have to be like this? You hate it all, him, and more than ever, yourself. You shouldn't be so aware of your heart. 

“Tell me why you’re doing this?”

“Out of consideration-”

“No, no, why are you in this life? How did this start? With who? Shouto, you say you want to marry me but that’s a joke now. Joke is fucking over.”

He stands and grips the back of the seat in front of him. “It has never been a joke, (Y/n).”

“It is if you lie like this. It’s become a habit to ask me and nothing more. If you meant it, if you really loved me, you would be an honest man. A man that isn't dangerous.”

Shouto walks over to you in smooth strides. “You have always been and always will be safe with me.”

“You know that’s a lie, Shouto. Look at the way you’re living! All of this is crooked and wrong! You can’t guarantee my safety with you if I’m not safe from you.”

He looks taken back. Shouto is speechless for a minute. He finally gathers what he wants to say and shakes his head. “I will never hurt you. I may live my life my own way, but you’ll never bear a burden.”

Your lips wobble and you slump on a seat. He takes the one opposite from you. “Why do you do this? What happened?” You ask in a low tone, still reeling. 

His smile is kind and soft. “The less you know, the better. My life is mine to bear, (Y/n). When I ask you to marry me, you're not taking it or sharing that part. When I propose, I'm sharing who I am, the one you always knew.”

“The darkness is part of the package. When I marry you, I’m marrying all of you. This life is one I just can’t do.”

“What would change your mind?”

Is he not understanding the words that are coming out of your mouth? “By getting out of this life. It can’t be too late, Sho.” You urge him to reconsider. However it came about, it's not too late for him, right?

He sighs and shakes his head. “I can’t, (Y/n). Please believe me and believe that I love you.”

Has he ever said that before? You can’t remember. “Shouto…”

“I know it’s going to be hard-”

You shake your head. “I can’t-”

“Let me do it for you. Marry me, let’s spend our life together. Dove,” He leans in. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

His earnest eyes are so tempting to fall into. To have faith in what is promised and believe in him. The problem is that he’s practically a stranger now. All of them are! Iida, a noble man who helped anyone; Katsuki, although rough around the edges, was a victor and stood for what’s right; Kyoka, an introverted musical angel with dreams bigger than imagined; and Shouto, a kind hearted man who’s been through the trenches and fought the odds and loved anyway, even though he was a little awkward about it.

That’s all gone now. Everything burned to the ground when you saw him murder someone. Here he is promising you what he’s offered all these years. You can’t trust him. 

“That’s a lie, Shouto. There’s too much red to see any other color. I love you too, Shouto Todoroki. But I don’t trust a single one of you.” The pressure behind your eyes wins. Tears stream down freely. You finally said what you never thought you would. You don't trust him.

He looks struck, heartbroken at the admittance of the loss. You hold his hands in yours. Shouto’s breath is shaky. He kisses your hands. The gesture is so sweet, so delicate. “How did this happen, Shouto?”

He ignores the question again and instead asks, “What will make you happy?” You. If life had been different, it was you, Shouto. 

You chew on your lip. You know what you have to say to get your point across. To show the boundary that you’ve written in the sand. “Freedom, even if for a moment.”

He kisses your hands again. “Ok.”

The heaviness in your chest weighs you down. What should’ve made you jump for joy is tainted by what could have been. The possibility of an innocent and loving life with him. Maybe, the two of you could have had it all. Adventures, struggles, family, passion, and love, who knows now? Life is filled with things to be touched, tasted, and challenged. Shouto might’ve been all of that for you. In this silent moment, you attempt to come to terms with pure and true love, with yourself or not, is somewhere else. In another life, it would have lied with Shouto Todoroki. Something pure and blameless, not covered in blood and screams. 

“Shouto…are you saying you’ll let me go?” There’s a hint of hope in your voice that you pray he doesn’t take offense to. Right now, the two of you are just basking in each other’s presence after the intense conversation. After a heart felt release, you’d hate to break the peace. 

“For one minute and not a second more.”

“What?”

He cradles your face. “This one minute I give you is all you will have. Freedom, even if for a moment.”

You grab his wrist. Your heart is thumping. “Shouto what are you talking abo-”

“Run.” The firmness in his voice gives you chills. What is he talking about though? “For what? What minute are you talking about?”

“I will give you a minute to run away. No matter how far you get, know I will hunt you.”

The air is sucked out of your lungs. He kisses your left hand and focuses on your ring finger with gentle pecks. You still have yet to breathe. Shouto is giving you one minute to run from him before he drags you back in his grasp. His calloused finger caressed your ring finger’s knuckle. 

This can’t be happening. He can’t be doing this. Surely, it’s a mistake! You misheard him and his intentions. The cruelty in his voice isn’t real. He understands that his lifestyle is just not for you. 

“Sho-”

“Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight-”

He’s serious. And you have lost two seconds of precious time. You push away and sprint. There is no one in the area to hear Shouto’s countdown. No one is in the street where you are running for your life. Not a single sound is heard other than the sound of your hurried footsteps on the damp street is heard. Suddenly, right as you head, you see familiar faces.

“Forty-two,” Deku counts. Ways past him is Iida who stands on the sidewalk with his head down. “Forty.”

You ditch your jacket. 

“Thirty-five,” Kyoka sings as she emerges from the dark alley next to the bar. The owner quickly flips the sign from open to closed. “Thirty-three,” Ochako, sweet, sweet, Ochako, comes out of a red car with Tsu.

Tears prick your eyes as you see the people you once trusted count down. All of them are waiting for Shouto’s permission to hunt. You will your legs to run faster. 

“Thirty-one,” Someone counts from above. You hear another count to thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight. You turn the corner. There’s no one on the street right now. In the distance, you can hear the count from twenty-six. You need to do something other than run. Find a car and drive off or call for help.

A man sitting on a bench rubs his eyes. “Help-”

“Twenty.” You gasp in horror and abandon the plea for help. The strangers that are along the sidewalks, on the corners, and even coming out of buildings, count. 

Why can’t you have some kind of super speed? The ability to outrun time and space so you can be saved? Your shoes flew off seconds ago, and your jacket is gone, yet you still feel weighed down. 

When the voices begin to harmonize from ten seconds on down, your life flashes before your eyes. Life back then was different. Never would you have thought you would be running from them and from time. 

“Nine!”

Your legs are burning. 

“Eight!”

This can’t be happening. Voices are heard in several directions with each step you take. It’s so constant, they might as well be your feet’s echo. You take a jump from a stair descending to the sidewalk. 

“Seven, six-!”

Your arms pump furiously. The wind blows past you as you force yourself to forget everything and just focus on moving, to completely channel everything out and let yourself run.  

“Five!”

With your mind blank, your legs may actually be going faster to a random location. You don’t know where you’ll go right now. That’s a question for when these seconds are up. 

“Four, three-!”

You’ve run far enough to get away from the subway and to the city. 

“Two!” They’re going to hunt you. Shouto is going to start the hunt in one more second. With a blank mind and your heart pumping, you ignore it all. 

“One!”

If you were paying attention, if your mind was present and in order, you would have heard the bell.

[cosa-nostra-omerta]

mafia aesthetic

[yanderedrabbles]

pls!!! more yan gangster!! im begging!!!!!!😖

Yandere Ganster - Rainy Days

It's a miserable day to do collections. It's raining cats and dogs and the gutters are spilling onto the sidewalk. Everyone with sense is tucked away inside, except for him.

The butcher is his last stop and then he can finally head back to you. Maybe you'll ask him to sit with you infront of the fireplace or maybe he can bring you some hot coffee and...

It's criminal instinct that makes him duck when the bat comes swinging at his face.

It throws up sparks as the missed swing scrapes against the brick wall. He's already tossing his umbrella and rolling up, fists ready.

Three thugs, sporting a mean assortment of brass knuckles and metal baseball bats.

"Look at that, the bitch's guard dog," one sneers.

"How 'bout you just hand over that fat stack of collection money and we call it a day? What d'you say, pretty boy?" the speaker drags his bat across the sidewalk and the harsh rasp of it is almost louder than the rain.

Three against one and the alley traps him right in the center of them. He grins. Maybe if he comes back with a nasty bruise you'll kiss it better?

Tired of waiting for a reply, the first guy swings. But he's still too slow and Yandere! Gangster ducks under it and punches at his gut. The man falters for a second that's all he needs to grab the bat and yank it out of the guy's hands.

"Well, well..." He twirls the bat and pulls back for a vicious strike that hits the guy right in his throat. He goes down with an ugly gasping sound, clawing at his neck. "I'd call that a home-run."

The other two are more wary of him now and they back away, circling.

Personally, he thought the whole home-run thing was a pretty witty thing to say, if a bit inappropriate. He wonders if you'd have cracked a smile at it.

The thugs try and rush him all at once. One manages to land a punch on his cheekbone but he snaps the bat backwards into the guy's nose and he stumbles away, cursing.

The other guy is ready for him, his own bat braced to guard his face. So Yandere! Gangster pretends to swing and then steps under his guard, his switchblade already in his hand. The cut he leaves behind is deep and nasty.

Three down. Too easy.

His grin is fading now and there's a strange look to him that makes the thugs shiver. "Bitch, was it?"

When he's done, the rainwater runs with ribbons of thick blood that swirl in pinkish eddies down the gutter.

He's totally soaked and his umbrella is ruined too. Well... At least the blood won't stain.

He rubs his cheek as he walks home. Maybe you'll notice it and tell him what a great fighter he is?

.......

You lean your head on your hand and look at him. His shirt is almost transparent and clinging to the muscles of his chest. An angry red bruise is forming on his cheek.

The only sound is the soft plink-plink of water dripping from his clothes onto the marble floors.

"Sorry ma'am." He looks down, sheepish. "Ran into some trouble."

"Taken care of?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good boy." You stand, bringing your brandy with you. "Come here."

You stand infront of the fireplace and point at your feet. He sits down carefully, aware of the small puddles left in his wake.

The fire warms him almost instantly. Cold, wet clothes are the most miserable thing in the world, he thinks. He's never going to take -

He jumps, his hands instinctively grabbing the towel you drape around his shoulders.

It's warm and he pulls it tighter around himself.

"Look at you..." you drawl, "You poor, soaked thing."

You gently work another towel through his hair. Your nails occasionally scrape his scalp and send shivers racing down his spine.

It takes a while before you're finally satisfied but when you stop, he can't help feeling an awful sense of disappointment.

You put a single finger under his chin and tilt his head up. His eyes are dazed and half-lidded. His skin is still cool to the touch and you click your tongue in irritation.

"You should know to take better care of yourself."

"Sorry ma'am."

You rest your brandy glass against his lips. There's a lipstick stain on the rim and he can taste the faint tang of cherries. He grins a little. Doesn't this practically count as a kiss?

The brandy touches his tongue and spreads a comforting fire down his throat. Is this what you taste like? Sharp and woody and under it all, just a little sweet?

You lean forward and slip your hand down his chest. He's sure you can feel the way his heart is pounding - do you realise what your touch does to him? Your lips are just a hair's breadth from his. For a second, he actually thinks you might kiss him.

Instead, you grab the envelope of collection money from his inner jacket pocket and pull it out.

He almost reaches out to stop you. Your touch is so warm, so perfect. Why are you taking it away after giving him such a small taste?

Thankfully, his brain kicks in and reminds him exactly how dangerous you are.

You tap the envelope against his cheek.

"You did good today, cucciolo."

Dimly, he realises that you called him puppy. And when you dismiss him with a casual wave, he jumps to obey just like a loyal dog should.

[chillchidichifries]

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | EXTRA 01 | Monster

Pairing | yandere!gangster!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 3,9k

Warnings | +18, yandere themes, knife wound, memories of past trauma and abuse, references to an attempted murder and escape attempt (present in the main story), Stockholm syndrome, guilt, Hoseok loves to psychologically torture MC, references to MC's traumatic past (hard yandere Jimin) and her love-filled present (soft yandere Jimin) that MC calls before and after, smut (fingering, wet kisses, nipple sucking), non-sexual choking attempt, fear and anxiety, this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You thought the worst was over, but the dark shadows are denser than you thought.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys!

After receiving many comments asking for an extra chapter for Dark Moon, I decided to write one, I hope you enjoy this glimpse of how things turned out later, thanks for loving Dark Moon 🥹❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie @btsuga-d @dragons-flare @takemeaway5402 @m00njinnie @seokjins-luigi @pjmsneverland @ajkwww @jimincrystal @ungodlyjoon @hecateslittlewitchling @namjoonsbuspass @darkuni63 @xicanacorpse @jiminismine4ever @btssimplove @antisocial-mochi267 @reallygenerouskoala @velvet-stardust2002 @angelicsmileworld @dabishou @ke1k029 @lennieharper @pantara @superrsstaargirrl13

➢ Main Story

➢ Happy Ending Series

➢ Side Note | The first two stories - Happy Ending and Dark Moon - were written in the third person, which had been my style for a long time. However, I’ve recently started writing all my new stories in the second person, as I find it much more immersive and enjoyable. As a result, the new stories in this series will continue in the second person. Thank you for reading this far ❤️

Jimin's return from a mission is announced by many heavy footsteps, some even shuffling, you hear excited whispers and words left unsaid.

You jerk open your eyes, your blurred vision in the dark making you dizzy, but that is not the reason for your nausea.

Jimin.

You jump up with your heart in your throat, it's not unusual for him to come home late from work, it's the other agitated voices that startle you. Something has definitely happened that has alerted the others as well.

You quickly grab your robe and tie it in a tight knot at the waist, you don't even bother to put on shoes, when you lower the handle the click resonates like a gunshot and a shiver runs down your spine, you will never get used to that kind of life, even though Jimin has become your whole world, and as a result his life is yours too.

You move your feet toward the living room, where surely everyone else is gathered, and you bring back an unruly lock of hair, tongues of fire sway sinuously throughout the hallway, someone has lit the fireplace, a sign of a long night they will spend here.

“Squeeze this, man,” you hear someone say, you recognize him as Jungkook and frown, "It's going to hurt, but you know the drill by now," he continues and your heart misses a beat.

When you reach the living room and the heat of the fire invests you, two heads turn in your direction, you simply feel the ground missing from under your feet.

You see Jimin, lying on the couch, pale under the mop of once again black, blood-stained hair; you don't know if it's his, but the one on his uncovered side that Jungkook is taking care to stitch up with needle and thread definitely belongs to him.

“What happened?” you simply manage to ask with a choked edge to your voice, rocking on jelly legs before collapsing at your husband's side, who clutches a leather glove between his teeth to suppress the pain.

The man weakly lifts his eyelids in your direction, two shiny black pools look at you affectionately and with weary hand tries to caress your face, you immediately clasp your fingers to his, they are cold you find yourself noticing and this startles you.

You glance at the wound, it is just below the ribs and Jungkook's quick hands move the needle expertly, there is ice wrapped in a cloth abandoned on the couch, perhaps to try to make the area around the wound less sensitive, you also notice a bottle of disinfectant and some gauze.

Jimin winces all the same, clenching the glove between his teeth so as not to show you his pain, not out of shame, but because he doesn't want to worry you further.

Your mind involuntarily goes to that day.

The day you hurt him trying to escape, those are hard memories to swallow, you don't like to remember the before, but how can you not think back when you have the same scenario before your eyes?

“I'm fine,” hisses Jimin fulminating Jungkook when he presses the tip of the needle a little too hard, ”It's superficial.”

“One more inch and we could have run to the hospital, though,” mutters the third man's voice, you try to ignore his disturbing presence.

It was not difficult to bond with all the members of Jimin's family, all except him.

Hoseok never showed any interest in being your friend, and you always mentally thanked him for that. Since that time at the Dark Moon, you have had no direct contact with him and you are more than okay with that, he is a real monster. You can see it in his eyes, the evil that he harbors and is not ashamed to let it out whenever he can.

That day, you would have died by his hand if Jimin had not gotten in the way, despite the wounds he had. You owe everything to Jimin you think, kissing his sweat-soaked forehead softly. The boy closes his eyes at the pleasant warmth of your lips against his smooth skin.

“You're not well, Jimin,” you whisper in his ear, Jimin's eyelashes flicker a little, you can see the shadow of a smile amid the pain.

“You're always so anxious, my love,” he chuckles with difficulty, in response you inhale into his dark hair his masculine fragrance, mixed with gunpowder and blood, “I'll survive, as always.”

How many more times must you wake up with your heart in your throat, with Jimin wounded and lying on the couch sweating and bleeding. The only thing sweet about that image is the bold smile he gives you every single time.

“And you always try to downplay everything,” you say bitterly, kissing him on the lips.

Jungkook looks at you out of the corner of his eye without saying anything, but he is clearly more relaxed now that you are there to look after Jimin, Hoseok on the other hand snorts.

“You women are so complicated,” there is boredom in his tone, it irritates you but you tighten your lips into a thin line to ignore him, ”Even though you were more like us that time than you want to admit, remember?”

The reference to that day freezes you, you widen your eyes and lift them to his.

His hair is no longer as red as blood, now it is as black as his soul, but his sadism is still there. He loves to hurt physically, but he doesn't disdain psychological hurt. Especially if it is to hit you, after all, resentment is his best friend and he never considered you part of his family.

Jimin's eyes go wide, the black has stopped sparkling, the sweetness has been replaced by anger.

“Shut the fuck up, Hoseok,” he hisses with a latent snarl. He is hurt, but that doesn't mean he will allow Hoseok to disrespect you, ”She is not to blame!”

He always says that, but is that really the case?

“Or what?” the other challenges him, leaning against the back of the sofa.

“Please... stop,” you mutter dejectedly to both of them, agreeing - reluctantly - with Hoseok. True, you were no different from them that day. It is a guilt you will carry with you forever.

Perhaps because of your tone, perhaps because of your look, or perhaps both, Jimin vibrates with anger and disdain. He jerks up ignoring your arms trying to pick him back up, managing to grab Hoseok by the collar of his black leather jacket, landing a punch right on his mouth that he dared to say too much to his wife, this set of movements blowing out a few stitches, making Jungkook growl in frustration.

“That's really enough now!” Jungkook has never been a go-between, he has always reasoned with physical force, and it doesn't even take a moment to force Jimin back to his seat, weak as he is, and push Hoseok away with an irritated shove, “You've both pissed me off.”

Hoseok rubs his split lips, blood smears his black gloves - the same kind of gloves Jimin had on the night he caught you - his teeth have torn flesh as a result of Jimin's punch, but he doesn't seem to show resentment.

He knows he has gone too far. Even if he doesn't regret it.

He also seems at times amused at his friend's reaction, love is a feeling he does not understand, he finds it ridiculous, and he also finds Jimin and Jungkook ridiculous for getting “tamed.”

Hoseok disgusts you.

“You didn't have to react that way, we all know what he's like,” you whisper softly on your husband's lips, Jimin is breathing heavily out of anger and grief, Jungkook seems to have abandoned the path of kindness and is stitching him up carelessly, perhaps even with a hint of malice.

“I don't tolerate-” I don't tolerate  anyone disrespecting you, you block that sentence by kissing him again, losing yourself in the soft lips and sugary taste of the boy who brought you to your knees, in every sense of the word.

You block him because you don't feel you deserve all that respect, Hoseok is right.

That evil man is like a virus in your brain, he wanted to hurt you that day and for a just reason, you almost killed a member of his family, you are unforgivable and you willfully ignore the reasons that led you to such an extreme act. You remain a murderer, the man you hold in your arms now, he would not be here now if you had managed to escape without giving him help.

“Christ, I want to go home,” Jungkook whines, envious of your intimate contact, he wants to go home to his wife and spend the rest of the night with her, but he has to stitch Jimin up first and some stitches are blown out, this thought makes him nervous and that hint of malice sneers a little more.

Jimin finds himself screaming in an instant with no more glove to help him, he casts a shocked glance at Jungkook, more blood stains his quick fingers, and yet he looks innocent, as if he has not just voluntarily stuck the needle deeper than was really necessary.

“Be kind, Jungkook,” you smile at the pigtailed boy, who rolls his eyes in response, “Please.”

“At least there's someone who knows politeness in this room,” he mumbles back, Jimin snorts throwing his head back on your soft, cozy chest, you lift your gaze and pin it on Hoseok, he's looking at you with a strange smile. He knows what you're thinking.

You pull the blankets up to Jimin's chin, he is shivering with cold and that worries you. Jungkook instructed you which antibiotic to give him once a day, then closed the door behind you, careful to let Hoseok out first.

Jungkook didn't trust you to be alone with him either.

You swallow a knot that tightens your throat, you feel suffocated. You need to get some air, even though it's probably cold outside that would freeze the soul of even the devil.

“Don't do that,” you hear yourself say, turning to Jimin.

He has pulled himself up from the blankets and looks at you harshly.

“What?” you ask pretending to arrange something in a drawer, your attitude exhausting him.

“Don't think of another man,” the blackness of his eyes is darker, the jealousy is always there, ”I hate that my woman thinks of another.”

This makes you smile incredulously, “I don't think of another man, Jimin, you are my man” you clarify with your hands on your hips, you see him melt a little as a sad smile finally comes to light.

Oh.

He means to say...

“You think about the things this man says,” he points out to you, ”But it's all bullshit, stop this guilt, it's killing me.”

Tears accumulate between your eyelashes, you blink quickly to chase them away.

“But it's true, I did-I almost killed you,” your lips tremble, Jimin instantly notices.

He doesn't like to resume the before, it disturbs him. But he has to if he wants to calm you down somehow.

“And before you tried to kill me, I hurt you willingly,” he emphasizes the last word with a grimace of contempt, to himself, “I pushed you to the limit and at that moment I liked it.”

Jimin never hid his darkness, he promised to love and respect you after, but it was not so before.

It was hell, just thinking about it leaves you paralyzed, the memories of pain are suffocating. Those of the pleasure you did not accept but yearned for are even more so.

Still, you shake your head, whichever way you look at it, you feel guilty.

“You were drunk; you didn't really want to” you try to justify him.

“I was drunk because I was fucking pissed, pissed at you,” the man points out to you, now bleary-eyed.

He would never hurt you now, in the after.

Right?

“You can justify me, but not yourself?” the pain in his voice leaves you stunned and pained, the shadows of your past are dense and heavy, Hoseok wallows among them, you think angrily.

But Jimin doesn't feel the same way, the problem is not Hoseok, he knows that very well.

You two still haven't gotten over the before, that's what reinforces the pain.

“I can't accept what I did, because I was never this” you were never a monster, no need to say that, Jimin already understood, “But I acted like one, you at least do it for a living.”

The man shakes his head, “I did it out of anger, and anger led to making my hate-based reality also a job” for a moment he sees the exhausted little boy collapsing at Seokjin's feet again and accepts his offer.

He will not deny it, it was the best choice ever, even if the circumstances that led him to meet you were terrible.

But he doesn't regret his love; he could let you go, but he won't.

He is too involved with you, you are too involved with him, you are a family now, in the after.

He just wants to take that weight off your shoulders crushing you. Even though it will hurt both of you.

“Come here, babe,” he invites you, moving a hand to draw you to him.

It doesn't have to happen again, you find yourself already sitting on the bed by his side, it was instinctive, the need for him overwhelming.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper in a choked voice, truly sorry for the dark thoughts you are giving him while he is in a pitiful condition.

“Straddle me,” he says bluntly, squinting your eyes.

“But... are you crazy? Jungkook finished with the stitches not even twenty minutes ago, I could hurt you, the wound is fresh!” you protest with your chest heaving up and down rhythmically, you cannot deny that the request tickled you.

But Jimin grabs you by the hips and intimates you to do as he told you, “Ride me, Y/N” his voice sounds sensual and needy, a giddy feeling tightens in your lower belly.

You lick your lips lifting yourself up on Jimin, surround his hips with your thighs, the robe opens over them and let Jimin look at your soft skin with desire. He has stopped shaking, you notice.

Paying attention to his wound, he opens the robe over your chest as well and slowly pulls down the thin straps of your nightgown, the man's eyes darken at the seductive sight of your delicate breasts and already turgid nipples, he would have gladly spent the evening another way if a half-dead bastard hadn't stabbed him out of spite, you'd be under him crying and moaning in pleasure, instead he has to settle for that position.

But he can always make up for it somehow, right now - in your after - he thinks, closing his plump lips around a stiff, rosy tip that asked for nothing more, the sensation of his wet tongue playing with your breasts makes you hold your breath, your clitoris throbbing and your entrance moistening, already ready to receive him in all his tantalizing thickness.

A dusting of pink colors your cheeks, Jimin loves your sensitivity, you could come just like that.

Your husband licks a streak of saliva down the column of your neck, you tremble as he finally reaches your lips before imprisoning them in a fiery and lively kiss, the sensual and soft entwinement of your tongues makes your thighs wiggle against his skin, you clench his legs and Jimin lays one of his hands on your hip and thrusts toward you, you mew meekly feeling the thick tip of his cock pressing against your panty-covered entrance.

Ignoring the glowing twinges in his side, Jimin sensually moves his pelvis against your pussy, playing with the tip of tongue, which grasps and tickles yours. You could really cum exactly that way and it would still be sublime and overwhelming, but Jimin sneaks his other hand inside your panties and puts some pressure with one finger on your swollen, taut clit, circles around it mischievously and then presses again, making it throb repeatedly and to his liking.

You are forced to separate from his wonderful mouth to catch your breath, narrowing your eyes at the bite he leaves on your neck, before gently sucking on the same spot. You don't doubt that there will be a bruise when you wake up, but it's a pain so pleasurable that your juices flows from your slit shamefully, you know it when you lower your eyes and notice the wet spot spreading across his pajama pants, at the height of his cock that continues to rock against you.

He continues to seduce you with his mouth until the first contractions of orgasm leave you breathless.

“Oh God... Jimin... I'm close,” you whisper in a shrill tone, your eyes watery with pleasure.

Jimin stops the movements of his pelvis, and before you can beg him to continue, he clamps his teeth on one of your nipples, flicking it repeatedly with the tip of his tongue, and penetrates you with his middle and ring fingers, leaving his thumb to stimulate your contracted clitoris mercilessly.

The urgency of your pleasure is like an electric shock, your walls sucking his fingers instantly into their silky softness, vibrating softly as they are penetrated and every single sensitive and receptive point stimulated, the orgasm shooting powerful and fast, you haven't even given him time to get to the last thrust, you come with raging shivers all over your body.

Just as you open your mouth to scream out all your pleasure, the hand Jimin was holding on your thigh goes up to your neck, his fingers tightening around it, but there is something strange about it.

It's not just erotic pressure, the fingers clench, so much, too much.

You open your eyes wide, searching for a miserable trickle of air, you try to tell Jimin with your eyes that you can't breathe, that he is hurting you, you even dig your nails into his arm, but nothing. Jimin's gaze is distant, remains intensely focused on you and doesn't seem to want to let go, fear and agitation blind you, you need oxygen as soon as possible, and eventually your brain shuts down and your body's response kicks in.

You strike Jimin in the face several times, heedless of his reddening skin, scratch his chest bloody, almost reopen the wound and fill him with fists. He accepts every single blow you give him in silence, because the feeling of your pulse desperately running under his fingers disgusts him, repulses him, but it must be so or you will never understand. When you try to grab him in your turn by the neck, to do the exact same thing to him, he finally releases you and you both regain air.

But for you the coming of air is painful, terrible, you take in so much that you can't really breathe and you choke, beginning to cough. You rise from him in shock, but you collapse to the ground with your head spinning and your peripheral vision almost completely obscured, your ears ringing and you are unable to think. You feel only shock, but also much, too much anger.

You thought the before was over, that the after was only full of love, you do not understand and when he reaches out to embrace you, your body instinctively rejects his touch.

Your still-dull mind loves him, your all too reactive body rejects him because of the danger, you are confused, you can only rely on instinct, which tells you to run away and get to safety.

Despite everything, Jimin comes back to embrace you and this time he does not accept your rejection, your body trembles in response, and when your mind finally manages to generate a thought, you can only ask…

“Why?” you cry, pressing your forehead to the floor, “Why did you do that?”

You touch your neck, it hurts, just as your lungs hurt. It was just horrible, why did he do such a thing? He said that... he said that...

“Because I love you,” he whispers miserably, "And that was the only way to make you understand," his voice sounds strange, as if trying to hold back sobs.

“I love you,” “The only way,” “To make you understand.”

You let him embrace you without trying to push him away anymore, but the terror is still there. It flows through your skin like a raging river.

“Now tell me, did you hit me because you wanted to or because it was your body reacting to what I was doing to you?” he asks softly in your ear, staring motionless at an undefined spot in the room.

Now you understand, he used sex to distract you and the threat of death to remind you of the danger and fear of that day.

You don't die from violent anal intercourse, but you die little by little inside if it is repeated day after day. Your mind had not held, your body had rebelled against that fate.

It was instinct, survival instinct.

“I didn't mean to do it... hit you I mean,” you sob, his lips brushing one cheek gently, as if to soothe you.

“You are not a monster, my love,” he whispers, remaining silent a few moments before resuming, “I am the monster” there is still self-loathing in his words, with the tip of his nose he brushes the marks of his fingers on your neck.

You know he's sorry, but you also know he won't regret it, not if it helped you understand.

You are not a monster, you just reacted to what was done to you, your mind and body were broken. Your mind more than your body.

You forgave Jimin and you will surely forgive him even now, in the after, because he helped you understand, understanding was the last step to forgiving yourself as well.

The shadows are less dense and Hoseok no longer wallows among them.

It is Jimin's words that matter, not Hoseok's.

Hoseok hates you and would do anything to kill you, whether physically or psychologically, it matters little.

Jimin loves you and would do anything for your welfare, even pass as a villain in an effort to help you understand.

Remember what you thought when Jimin confessed after saving you.

It is a sick love, but one you need to feel safe.

And you don't regrets anything.

“Jimin?” you call out to him, get a murmur in response, “Thank you.”

He kisses the fingers of your hand, some of them stained with his blood, but he regrets nothing.

“You are the most precious thing I have, Y/N,” he confesses, ”Hurting you disgusts me, though in this case it was necessary, forgive me.”

Overflowing with sincerity, you finally relax, “I have already forgiven you,” you reply.

Jimin cannot block the emotion he feels, he kisses you in your soft, fragrant hair, he knows he does not deserve it, but you are his whole world, “Thank you.”

[lindoesntwin]

I WILL NOT BE SPOILED BY A DOTING GANGSTER!

A granddaughter of a yakuza has a very clingy bodyguard.

[running-with-kn1ves]

I love malachi but he an absolute hoe for that. If he let someone else put their hands on him then that person can have him bc i dont need any man who wont respect our relationship enough to stand up for it themselves (this isnt a rant or hate @ u lol ily, its just me wanting to hit mal over the head with a ton of bricks. My yan gangster boyfriend would never 😮‍💨 .....

....

He would never...right?)

Lolol don't worry! He's only a hoe when readers around; it's the insecurity in him, wants to know he's loved. But for sho, a bitch boy move. When readers not there and he's approached any other time, the other person would be lucky to only get a sneer of disgust. If they're not so lucky, and malachis in a particularly sour mood, he might begin classic mean girl bullying type shit by just spouting reasons why he would never go out with a low life like them, that they could never compare to the fucking godsend he has waiting for him at home. Just the idea pisses him off, and unfortunately reader might get the brunt of this behavior when he comes home less than happy.

Yan gangster you say? Well, his reaction definitely depends. On a good day he might just walk away, uninterested and a little annoyed, swatting the interested party like a fly. If they keep pressing though, he's no stranger to violence, whether it be a harsh shove to scare them off, or an uppercut to the chin to prove a statement. I think, he wants to show reader that there's no one else; he's not trying to scare them, but he wants them to know that there's not going to be anyone between them, whether someone's interested in him or reader. He won't let an inkling of the idea cross his path.