#Taehyung Mafia

[theharrowing]

Collateral 🗡️ 18: You, me, and our men

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

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🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader, Jungkook x Taehyung

🗡️ word count: 17.1k

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+ 

🗡️ warnings: dear god, buckle up... discussion of drug use; very soft and fluffy moments; threesome; oral sex (m & f); screaming orgasm; multiple orgasms; playing footsie; punishment & reward; orgasm denial & control; voyeurism & exhibitionism; all of these men are shit heads; loud, sloppy oral; squirting; begging & teasing; light humiliation; safe words; Yoongi & Namjoon being domestic at a silly time; submissive Jeongguk; mc dominant for the first time; use of restraints; noona kink; hair pulling; face & body slapping; masturbation; praising; riding (forward & reverse); mirror sex; finger sucking; a little spanking; fingering; ass eating; overstimulation; after care; i love these characters so fucking much and it really shows ughhhhh.

🗡️ note: i really have no idea how i let the smut scene™ get so huge and wild, but i hope you enjoy it. after all the pent-up tension, it was fun to write. perhaps this scene being huge and gratuitous is my way of distracting you from the horrible realities of the Collateral universe, which will become extremely present in the next chapter. it feels more like a oneshot than a proper chapter, but...whatever. i know not one of you will complain. ok enjoy!!! i love you!!!

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🗡️ posted on june 2023 | read on ao3

From the moment you wake up, your nerves are haywire. 

You know two things to be true. The first is that this is the last day in the foreseeable future that you will be spending in Jimin's home. The second is that Yoongi will be home shortly after 2 PM.

When Jimin wakes you up by rubbing over your forehead and whispering sweetly, it dawns on you that this is the last time, and it causes a swirling of happiness and sadness to fill your chest. The sun blares through the window at an angle that you typically miss in your sleep, and you squint against the morning light, a sight that has become something of a stranger to you. 

With a loud yawn, you rub sleep from your eyes. Then you grumble, feeling as if you had just gone to bed moments ago, frustrated to discover that it is only 10 AM and that you have, in fact, slept far less than normal. It is sweet for Jimin to wake you early on your last day; it warms your heart to know that he is up to something. 

"I thought we could get some coffee and pastries before I send you off to the Min Mansion," Jimin suggests with a smile. 

Today, Jimin is dressed casually in a burgundy turtleneck tucked into charcoal slacks, with his hair partially pushed off his forehead. His skin is dewy and clear of makeup, radiating with natural beauty. And you can tell his patience for you is wearing thin as his smile falters and his eyes widen; Jimin does not like to wait, and he is absolutely incapable of hiding anything on his face. 

"Alright, alright," you mutter before he has the chance to complain. 

With a somewhat indignant huff, you toss the warm, pretty pink and orange comforter aside and try not to lament how you will not be returning to its embrace. Then you pad over to the closet and choose a pair of black leggings and cozy green sweater, and you get dressed in there, knowing Jimin is still sitting on your bed, likely scrolling through his phone. 

"Don't worry about your things," Jimin calls when you stand a little too long, taking in the sight of clothing and shoes scattered around, cluttering up a sliver of space in the large, walk-in closet. "I'll have Joonie come deal with it. He loves doing your peasant work."

"That is true," you respond with a smile, shutting off the light in the closet and walking out in socked feet. "If there is one thing Namjoon is good at, it is doing exactly what I want him to."

Jimin rolls his eyes dramatically, and mutters, "Gross," under his breath, and the two of you giggle as you exit the room into the hallway, and set out for a morning errand.

Hanging out with Jimin for several hours is a blast, and you spend most of the time seated on a café patio watching passersby and commenting on everything from the cooling weather to people's clothing styles and any random little thought that crops up in between. But as time ticks by, you become antsy.

By 1:30 PM, you are a wreck, checking your phone so often for a notification that Jimin snickers and tells you to relax. 

At 1:45 PM when you get the "Almost home!" text from Namjoon, your heart becomes so frantic, you feel like you might throw up.

"Alright, let's get you home," Jimin grumbles when you announce the news with shaking hands clenched tight to your phone. Maybe caffeine was a mistake. 

You are able to distract yourself a little with chatter during the drive, and even get lost in singing a song on the radio that you recognize as one of the tracks a dancer named Cherry enjoys stripping to. The breeze coming in through the windows as you leave the city pulls you into a calm state, and you close your eyes to enjoy the way the wind feels.  

But as soon as the car pulls into Namjoon's driveway, your stomach is turmoil, sloshing and churning, threatening to make you sick. You realize you are squeezing your hands tightly when the dig of your nails begins to hurt your palms, and you open them wide, flexing and attempting to relax them before resting them against your knees and squeezing. 

All you can think is, What if he hates me? What if he remembers every horrible thing I said? What if he never wants to see me again? 

Of course, you do not fully believe any of that; you do not think Yoongi has it in him to hold a grudge over something like that, especially if Namjoon has relayed the things you said to him the other night. But you do fear that something you said could have stuck with Yoongi—burrowed deep into his subconscious to make a home, festering with hateful words during quiet moments when all he wants is peace.

"Dove?" Jimin asks softly, and you gasp, pulling your gaze from the black dashboard that had gone out of focus as you stared at it. You glance up to find the vehicle has stopped in front of Namjoon's garage. 

"I'm scared," you mutter softly before you can stop yourself, squeezing your eyes closed to fight back the urge to cry.

"I know," Jimin responds as he reaches over to rub a hand over your shoulders and down your back. "But this is Yoongi, and he loves you. He is not going to be angry with you."

Although no tears have fallen, you press the sides of your index fingers below your eyes as if willing all condensation to stay put. And, with a deep exhale, you nod and say, "I don't think I worry about him being angry. But I do worry about him being hurt."

Jimin's hand slides up to your shoulder and gives it a squeeze, forcing your eyes to close involuntarily. "Go in there and talk to him," he urges, and you swallow thickly and nod some more. 

"Thanks for everything," you mutter, smiling despite yourself. 

"Any time, dove," Jimin responds, and you know that he means it.

The seatbelt feels heavy when you unbuckle it and release it to clunk against the door as it slides into resting position. With a slow, deep fortifying breath, you reach for the door handle and tug, then you begin the process of making your limbs move, one after the other, sluggish with anticipation. 

As you approach the door, your heart pounds, and you wring your hands in front of you with each step forward that you take. It will be fine, you tell yourself over and over. It will be fine, it will be fine, itwillbefine. 

Before you have a chance to lift your hand and knock, the door opens, and you squeeze your fists tight once more while taking in Namjoon's bright, beautiful smile. The urge to cry returns and your exhale rattles something fierce from deep in your lungs. 

"Hey, sweetheart," Namjoon says, eyes soft and knowing, assessing your very clear signs of distress. He wears a fuzzy brown cardigan over a white tee with black slacks, looking soft like a teddy bear and so inviting. "Deep breaths, yeah?"

You nod and let out a chuckle of relief as you step through the threshold and lean against him. Namjoon wraps his arms around you and steps back into the house, pulling you along just enough to allow him to close the front door. Both of your hands grip onto the cardigan, and you rub over the soft fabric with your thumbs while toeing out of your sneakers one at a time. 

"Alright, clingy," Namjoon jokes, rubbing splayed palms over your shoulders and back before attempting to release the hug and take a step away. You continue to hold on tight and step with him, causing Namjoon to laugh and take you firmly by the arms. "The only way out is through. Let's go release you from limbo; Yoongi is excited to see you."

Tears spill at the mention of Yoongi's name, and you heave an exhale, then stand straight and wipe uselessly under your eyes. Even as Namjoon rotates, you feel the urge to bury yourself forward once more, allowing your body to turn while your forehead rests against his chest. 

"Darling," Yoongi's deep, soft, beautiful voice calls from beside you, "why are you crying?"

You hardly get a look at Yoongi as you back away from Namjoon and fling your arms around Yoongi's middle, gripping onto another soft sweater as you bury yourself into his chest. Yoongi wraps you in a warm, delicate hug and presses his lips to your temple, holding you there while you tremble and cry. He smells sweet and musky and perfectly him, and you are so terribly in love.

"I'm sorry," you manage to whimper. 

Yoongi's hold on you tightens, and he slides his head beside yours, uttering soft shushes while his hands rove everywhere they can reach, squeezing your neck gently and patting over your hair. 

His voice is barely above a whisper as he responds, "I'm sorry, too."

"I didn't mean anything I said," you sob, and Yoongi's hug tightens then softens. 

"It's alright if you did," he says, voice full of love; no malice to be found. Because, of course, Yoongi is soft and understanding with you. Of course, he knows your heart. "You have every right to be hurt."

Finally, you release the hug and back up only far enough to smile at the face that greets you. Yoongi's hair is wild dark waves framing his beautiful face, and with tears in his eyes, he looks softer than ever before. He wears a light blue sweater, and you rub your hands over his chest searching for the words to say; overwhelmed by a flood of emotions.

You settle on a simple, "I love you," and it feels so right when it passes your lips. It feels so right when Yoongi's lips upturn into a sweet smile that reaches his eyes. "I love you, and I'm sorry, Yoongi. I'm so sorry."

"Let's sit?" Yoongi offers, and you exhale deeply, releasing so much tension that has built and built in your shoulders and chest. 

Yoongi guides the three of you over to a large, light brown leather couch. The cushion groans as Yoongi sits, and you take your place beside him, followed by Namjoon, who sits on your other side. You bend your legs and turn your body to Yoongi, who does the same, facing you with his elbow against the backrest. 

"You look great," Yoongi says with a smile, and although you are the most dressed down you have been in weeks, you return his smile, welcoming the compliment. With a teasing lift of a brow, he adds, "Namjoon says Jimin has been teaching you to dance?"

Warmth rises to your cheeks, and you chuckle, then nod. Yoongi waggles his eyebrows, making you laugh harder. You lift a hand to swat him on the chest, but Yoongi catches it and holds your palm against him, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Yes, Jimin has been teaching me to dance," you respond somewhat sheepishly. "And Hyejin, a little."

"Ah, Hwasa!" Yoongi responds happily, smiling widely—devastatingly. "I'm so glad you spent time getting out and making friends. I was worried about you being cooped up in a dark mansion for three weeks."

You chuckle, but something heavy settles in your chest, making you frown. "I was drinking a lot at first. But dancing helped me get out of my head. It's been really good for me."

Yoongi releases your hand and attempts to scoot closer, knocking his knee against yours. In fluid, unspoken movements, Yoongi spreads his legs—lifts one leg to rest against the backrest and slide past you—and you mold into him, shifting onto your knees to slot yourself into the space he has made and scoot onto your side, wrapping your arms around his chest. 

"Namjoon," you mutter against Yoongi's sweater. "This hug needs a Namjoon."

The sound of Yoongi's laughter rattling in his chest against your cheek is a symphony, and you squeeze him tighter, feeling love build and build and pour from you. The couch shifts behind you as Namjoon stands, and Yoongi attempts to scoot the two of you forward while Namjoon wedges himself behind Yoongi. The two of them shift around until one of Namjoon's legs slide beside Yoongi's, multiplying your hug as two more arms wrap around you, sinking you further against Yoongi's chest.

"Better," you mutter happily, tilting your head to press soft kisses to the underside of Yoongi's chin and against his throat. Yoongi sighs with a smile and tightens his hug, and you continue to kiss along the curve of his neck until Namjoon—whose lips are pressed just below Yoongi's ear—comes into view. 

"Thank you for giving me another chance," Yoongi says, tugging at your heartstrings so hard you nearly cry again. 

"You're not allowed to thank me for loving you," you complain against his skin, breathing in his musk.

Yoongi chuckles gentle and sweet and says, "On the contrary, I am extremely grateful for your love." His voice softens as he adds, "And I intend to do my best to never take you for granted again."

"I don't understand what drove you to use…" you blurt out, then trail off, unable to say the word heroin, feeling it lodge itself in your throat, sharp as a needle and thick as tar. As you swallow around the discomfort and continue, Yoongi's fingertips trace shapes against your back, and Namjoon gives your biceps a gentle squeeze. "I don't understand addiction at all, and I overreacted. Even if my feelings were genuine at the time, the things I said were awful. I want you to feel safe with me, and I want to support you through whatever you are going through. I guess I was just shocked, but that's no excuse to lash out."

Kisses litter your cheeks and forehead, firm and soft and lingering, punctuated with hums. Your eyes flutter closed, and you lean into Yoongi's lips, smiling as his body says so much without the use of words. 

"I feel safe with you," Yoongi finally says, and you sigh, content. "I can't fully explain what drives me to use…and I can't promise I won't again…but I want to try to stay clean. I deserve to feel happy, and pushing you away or putting myself at risk of overdose are terrible ways to chase happiness."

"You can always talk to me," you offer despite silently acknowledging how huge and heavy and impossible some things might feel to voice. "And Namjoon."

"I'm going to resume therapy, too," Yoongi says. "I was talking to Christopher for a while, but stopped shortly before you moved in. I think it would be good for me to return to him."

You nod and bury your face against his neck, wondering if you should also talk to the family therapist. Some nights, you wake up screaming, returned by your subconscious to the night of the crash—to the sight of Taehyung stabbing a man clear through the gut with a blade. 

Even now, the thought claws at your subconsciousness with such force that Namjoon says something softly, and you hear Yoongi hum in response, but the sounds are distant and hard to parse. You squeeze your eyes closed, determined to be present and not spiral, breathing away the memory of that night as best as you can. 

"I hope the therapy helps," you say with a bit of a pout, feeling emotionally overwhelmed but with a desire to keep assuring Yoongi that you are here for him. "I'll do my best to love and support you."

Yoongi squeezes you tight and sighs against you, and Namjoon's hands slowly rub over your arms and Yoongi's in calming motions. This feels like the right time to voice what has been weighing on you so heavily, but as you open your mouth to speak, you begin to feel nervous. But why should you feel nervous with Yoongi? Since he began opening up to you, he has been supportive and understanding; asking him what the three of you are should not be scary.

"How would you define our…" you begin, trailing off while your pulse pounds loudly in your ears. "Our, uh…our relationship."

Four arms hug you tight, and Yoongi hums softly. Then, he asks, "You mean the fake engagement doesn't make my intentions clear enough?"

"No, you're right," you chide, lifting a hand to swat at Yoongi's shoulder, making him laugh harder. "Silly me."

It takes a moment for Yoongi's laughter to die. His shoulders continue to shake, and you give him time to respond truthfully while you rub his soft blue sweater between your thumb and forefinger. 

"I consider the two of you my romantic partners," Yoongi finally says, voice low and sweet. "I consider us exclusive, but with an asterisk attached to the word, allowing you and Jeongguk to play around if that is something you still want."

"It is," you admit, feeling your cheeks warm.

"And the same goes for me," Namjoon says, making your smile widen. You already know these things to be true, but it feels so nice to hear them spoken aloud.

"Okay," you respond. "Good."

"I suppose we have never had this conversation," Yoongi muses. "We sort of just…fell into one another."

"A beautiful collision," Namjoon says, fingers tracing shapes against your shoulders. "I feel so lucky to have been pulled by such an undeniable gravitational force, creating a galaxy of beauty and warmth between the three of us."

"What the fuck," you mutter against Yoongi's sweater. "That was so poetic and cute. I want to kiss you so bad, but I don't want to move."

Namjoon chuckles and gives your shoulders a squeeze. "You have plenty of time to kiss me, don't worry."

With a dreamy sigh, you mutter, "Good."

The three of you sit like this for a while, quiet and tangled around one another. Then Namjoon's phone rings, shrill and loud, and he shifts around as he fishes the device from a pocket to answer. 

"Hey, Tae," he says, and you smile to yourself; they say, speak of the devil, and he shall appear, but you only needed to think of him moments ago. 

"Hey, would you two like to join Taehyung and Jeongguk for dinner?" Namjoon asks. "Jeongguk is cooking."

"Darling?" Yoongi prompts, and you nod without taking time to consider the offer. As nice as it is to have a quiet moment between just the three of you, you imagine Taehyung and Jeongguk are eager to see Yoongi again. And you did tell Jeongguk that you would be interested in the five of you getting together soon. 

You, me, and our men.

Namjoon confirms that the three of you will be joining them, then ends the call and informs the two of you that you have just over two hours to get ready and meet at Taehyung's place.

"I need to change into something a little nicer," you grumble, reluctant to release Yoongi from your hold. 

You remember the closet of things that are at Jimin's place, and you frown, feeling torn once more. You are glad to be returning to Yoongi's bed, by Yoongi and Namjoon's side, but having a little home away from home was nice. 

"Let's head home, then?" Yoongi suggests, and you nod but continue to lean into him, breathing in his musk and feeling his warmth. 

It takes coaxing to get off the couch, and you whine and grumble the entire way, stumbling over your feet as you move, arms still slung around Yoongi and refusing to let go. Namjoon chuckles and heads to the door first to put on his shoes, and Yoongi waddles in that direction, walking you backward and pressing you into the door while he leans and bends to put his shoes back on. 

Only when you need to use your hands because shoving your feet into your sneakers proves feeble with the tongue and heels bending and getting stuck, do you release Yoongi, huffing and puffing indignantly the entire time. 

"Want a piggyback ride, sweetheart?" Namjoon offers as he opens the front door, and you gasp loudly because yes, absolutely, you do.

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, excited, and Namjoon walks outside, steps down the three short steps onto the ground, and stands with his arms held out to the sides. You run and leap onto him, wrapping your arms tight around his neck, making him wheeze as he reaches for your legs and adjusts you in his hold. 

"Sorry, Joonbug," you mutter as you loosen your hold and place kisses along his nape, and Namjoon chuckles and says, "It'll take a lot more than that to kill me, don't worry."

Yoongi closes the door and falls into step beside the two of you, and off they walk to the dirt and gravel path that leads back to the main mansion. Yoongi reaches for one of Namjoon's hands, linking their fingers together, and you smile as you rest your head against Namjoon's shoulder, feeling safe and warm and happy—indestructible and untouchable in this soft, quiet moment. 

The walk back is peaceful, with only the sounds of footfalls crunching softly guiding you home, and you close your eyes, relaxing and breathing in the gentle bouquet of Namjoon's skin, shampoo, and laundry detergent. Despite being big and strong, with more blood on his hands than you can imagine, Namjoon is sweet, sweet, sweet, filling you from limb to limb with so much affection.

You hear the ground change underfoot and open your eyes to find yourself being carried past the driveway and garage, toward the front door. It feels good to be home, and you straighten out and watch over Namjoon's head as Yoongi takes the lead and begins to unlock the front door. Although you have cried more than necessary for one day, tears well in your eyes, and you feel so inexplicably happy to finally be home.

Yoongi takes off his shoes, then pulls yours off for you, chucking them aside while Namjoon steps from the slides he wore. There is a very light atmospheric scent to the mansion that you only now realize you have missed, and you look around at everything that is just as it was the last time you saw it—frozen in time and waiting, shrouded in dust motes that sparkle in the sunlight.

Namjoon carries you through the main hall and up the stairs, holding onto Yoongi's hand once more. Once you reach the master suite, Namjoon bends to lower you to the bed, then spins before you have a chance to fully release your hold, and closes in fast, slotting his lips against yours and sending a thrill of arousal through you. It has been far too long, and you melt into his touch. 

"We have two hours," Namjoon mutters against your lips, slotting himself between your spread legs. His mouth trails low, kissing and nipping at your neck and making you shiver. "I need to have both of you before I lose my fucking mind."

"You have me," you groan, lolling your head back with pleasure. "I'm all yours. You too, kitten."

"Kitten," Yoongi repeats in a low rasp as he climbs onto the bed behind you. 

The tangle of bodies is chaotic and haphazard—ravenous. Hands push and tug and remove articles of clothing while mouths desperately attempt to remain attached to mouths and skin, bruisingly firm touches and moaned confessions, making up for lost time. 

You slide to the floor eager to wrap your lips around Namjoon's half-hard cock, feeling him shudder beneath your fingertips while his whimper becomes lost between Yoongi's lips. Yoongi joins you on the soft rug, and you share your prize, watching with bated breath as his pretty doll lips wrap around Namjoon's hard length. And as a show of love, you graciously allow Yoongi to swallow Namjoon's cum. 

Namjoon has you on your feet and then on your back against the dark comforter so fast your head spins, and the two of them take their time pulling orgasm after orgasm from you with their mouths and fingers until Yoongi finally spins you onto your hands and knees, and fucks you so hard, you scream into Namjoon's warm, open mouth. 

"Taehyung's gonna kill us for being late," Namjoon jokes as he presses Yoongi into the mattress to stretch him on one finger, then two, all the way to four. When Yoongi makes you cum with his mouth mere moments before his own orgasm hits, it feels too good to be true. And when Namjoon's back arches and he fills Yoongi with his own release, the whorling mixture of moans and whimpers in the air lulls your trembling, achingly euphoric body deep into the comforter. 

You are so fucked out and high on pleasure that Namjoon has to carry you to the shower. 

When Jeongguk opens Taehyung's door wide and inviting, the first words that greet you are, "Taehyung is going to kill you for being late." His eyes drift between the three of you, and you watch as his gaze hones in on the bruise you sucked into Yoongi's throat hours before. 

The savory scent of meat and spices hit your nose, and you take a deep inhale, smiling as you say, "It smells amazing."

Jeongguk beams and takes a step back, giving the three of you room to enter. He wears that damned silk leopard print shirt again, this time tucked into tight black slacks, and you smirk to yourself remembering the conversation you had at Paradise; the sweet boy took your teasing to heart. 

You wear a simple black short-sleeve a-line mini dress that stops mid-thigh, with a heavy Cuban link necklace encrusted in diamonds, and your hair pulled back tight. Although your makeup application skills pale in comparison to Jimin's, you managed to paint a smoky look to your eyelids and allowed Yoongi to pick out a bright red for your lips. Yoongi and Namjoon wear black tucked into black, with several buttons undone, revealing skin and silver chains. 

As you step into Taehyung's home and out of your heels, Jeongguk walks ahead through the living room, off to the right. Taehyung's home takes you by surprise. His furniture is extravagant and mismatched, gaudy floral velvets and curving, carved woods. Art pieces litter walls and surfaces, from landscapes to portraits and strange carvings that may be human bodies but could be amorphous blobs. 

As you walk through the space, Yoongi takes your hand and tugs you slightly back, causing you to bump into him. "You can rile Jeonggukie up if you'd like to," he mutters in your ear. "Tease him a little."

Heat licks at your senses as you remember the discussion you had with Jeongguk. Nothing could happen without the others present, and here you are, under one roof with everyone at once. Your heart soars with hopeful anticipation, and you twist to send Yoongi a wink, making him chuckle. 

As you round the dividing wall into the dining area, you find a long, sprawling table adorned with dishes and covered pots of food. Past that is a black marble island against which Taehyung stands, frowning while swirling a glass of deep red wine. He wears a burgundy shirt that nearly matches his beverage, tucked into dark brown slacks, and at the sight of him, you smile widely. 

"Thanks for the invite," you beam, pleased when Taehyung does not miss a beat, grumbling, "Thanks for finally fucking showing up."

"Sorry, Taehyungah," Yoongi says as he slots an arm around your waist, kicking butterflies up in your tummy. "I've been away from these two for too long…I couldn't keep my hands to myself."

With a hum, Taehyung kicks from the island and says, "I suppose it was my fault for only giving you two hours." Adding, with a dismissive wave, "All is forgiven."

"How gracious," you mutter under your breath as Jeongguk brings a final dish to the table and Taehyung urges everyone to sit. 

Yoongi surprises you by taking a seat beside Jeongguk, and Namjoon pulls out the chair in front of Jeongguk's for you, so you sit and scoot in while Namjoon sits across from Yoongi, to your left, and Taehyung places himself at the head, to your right. Taehyung lifts lids from dishes, revealing pan-seared steaks and sides of potatoes, steamed and pickled vegetables, and an inviting pile of glass noodles. 

"Holy shit," you mutter as your mouth waters, and Namjoon grabs your plate, asking softly what you would like and how much of each serving. 

Yoongi and Jeongguk serve themselves, discussing something lowly and impossible to hear while Taehyung fills your glass with red wine. Once everyone is settled with their plates in front of them, Jeongguk raises a toast. 

"To Yoongi-hyung staying happy and healthy," he beams, turning to face Yoongi, whose cheeks flush as he smiles wide, showing off his gums. "Whatever it is you're going through, you're never alone, okay, hyung? I mean that. You have a lot of support."

"Alright, enough," Yoongi grumbles, shoving his wine glass forward for the rest of you to tap yours against. Although he is doing his best to appear as grumpy and impassive as possible, the joyful glimmer in his eyes is unmistakable. 

Everyone drinks and then begins to eat, and you take a deep, calming exhale before digging in, bracing yourself for a delicious meal. The food is fantastic, and you fall back in your chair after only a few bites, almost frustrated by how well Jeongguk can cook.

Namjoon chuckles from your left, and you turn to find him watching you with a smile. "That good, huh?" he asks, knowing full well the physical and emotional anguish you are experiencing. 

"It's ridiculous," you complain as you sit forward and continue to eat, and when you glance at Jeongguk, he is smiling around a bite of food. 

"How are you liking the new position at Paradise?" Yoongi asks as everyone begins to slow down mid-meal. 

"It's fun," Jeongguk responds happily, having a sip of wine.

This feels like a good time to rile Jeongguk up, and you take a sip of your wine and prepare yourself with a deep breath for impending foolery. Tentatively, slowly, you stretch your leg forward, searching with your toes for an ankle or a calf. When the side of your foot brushes against the side of a leg, you lock eyes with Jeongguk, who gazes curiously at you over his glass. 

"Jimin says you've been really enjoying it there, and that everyone is warming up to you quickly," Yoongi continues, using a knife to cut off a section of his steak. 

Jeongguk clears his throat, and you drop your leg away only enough to recalibrate your aim and try again. This time, you find the inside of a calf rather than the outside, and you very delicately rub your toes against him, feeling the soft material of his slacks gather and fall away. 

"Y-yeah," Jeongguk stammers, repositioning himself in his seat so that his legs are even closer—easier for you to access. "I like it there a lot, and Jimin-hyung says I'm learning the ropes pretty fast.” 

You push your leg up, grazing along Jeongguk's knee as you ask, "Is there anything our Jeonggukie can't do well?" 

Jeongguk's eyes widen, and he clears his throat, failing to hide the effect you have on him from even a small touch. You glance at Yoongi to find his eyes flitting briefly down at the foot between Jeongguk's legs as he bites back a smile. 

"Word on the street is you're little miss popular at Paradise, too," Taehyung says, turning your attention to him. He raises an eyebrow as if studying you, and suddenly you feel nervous, like a child caught misbehaving by their teacher. You wonder if there is any way he could know what you are up to. 

You clear your throat and continue to lift and press your foot forward rubbing your toes against Jeongguk's inner thigh, and from the corner of your eye, you can see him jolting slightly before slouching himself a little closer.

"Jeonggukie," Taehyung says before you have a chance to respond to his earlier inquiry, cocking his head curiously. "Care to share with the class what seems to be the matter with you?" 

Rather than letting up, you rub your foot back and forward, inching slowly closer to his crotch and making him shiver as he responds, "No-nothing. Why?" 

Taehyung is fast on his feet, standing and rounding the table before you can move your foot away, but you still sit up quickly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as Taehyung looks at Jeongguk, then looks at you. 

"Playing footsie, I see," Taehyung says as he approaches Jeongguk's chair, places two hands on the tall wooden backrest, and leans close. "And without my permission." 

"S-sorry, sir," Jeongguk says as his eyes fall to his plate. His entire demeanor shifts, making him seem small and weak compared to a moment ago. 

"Hyung, what should we do to punish these two?"

Yoongi's smirk is sharp and knowing, and you begin to wonder whether this was his plan, all along. You wonder if he knew that encouraging you to rile up Jeongguk would get this kind of reaction from Taehyung. What if the two of them planned this ahead of time?  

"Up to you, Taehyungah," Yoongi responds, sending a chill along your spine.

"I think Jeonggukie should get under the table and give our dollface here a taste of her own medicine," Taehyung suggests. 

"Darling?" Yoongi asks, "Do you consent to this?"

"Yes," you respond softly, feeling somewhat dazed as your eyes trail from Yoongi's grin to Jeongguk's shocked expression and finally to a smirking Taehyung. 

"You heard her, Jeongguk," Taehyung says firmly with a hint of impatience.

Without needing further instruction, Jeongguk pushes his chair back and sinks to his knees. "Yes, sir," he mutters before his head disappears under the table.

Your heart pounds, and you watch Yoongi, who sits and stares at you with his wine glass cradled between his fingers. The feeling of two warm hands spreading your legs makes you gasp and shudder, and you comply with allowing Jeongguk access, sinking further in your chair until your ass is right on its edge.

"I don't want to hear a sound from you, doll," Taehyung instructs, ripping your gaze from Yoongi to him. "If you so much as whimper, I won't let you fuck him. Understand?"

"Y-yes," you respond in time for the featherlight brush of fingers over your clothed heat, intaking a deep, quiet breath.  

"Yes, sir," Taehyung instructs, and you nod emphatically as you correct yourself, saying, "Y-yes, sir."

Warm breath wafts between your legs, and you swallow thickly, glancing between Taehyung, Yoongi, and Namjoon, who all carry on as if nothing is happening. Taehyung takes Jeongguk's seat, and the three men discuss bringing The Tigers on to take care of Jeongguk's former responsibilities, and how things have been going while Yoongi has been away. It seems Namjoon has been the family point person in Yoongi's absence, but you cannot bring yourself to listen closely to their conversation because the feeling of lips dragging over your pussy shuts out all sound around you. 

With a sigh that is as silent as you can manage, you let your head fall back against the wooden chair. Warmth laps over the mesh layer covering you, and you shiver as your pelvis angles upward, chasing the sensation. You want to beg Jeongguk to move your panties aside and touch you properly, and you bite your bottom lip to keep any sound from spilling. 

Namjoon is the picture of nonchalance as he leans forward and reaches for a bottle of wine to fill his empty glass. When he turns to you and reaches for yours, which is still half full, his voice is so sweet and soft, asking, "Don't care for the wine, sweetheart?"

As if determined to spoil any chance of fucking you, Jeongguk chooses this moment to tug your panties away and press the pads of his fingers against you, spreading your lips slowly and firmly. Your eyes roll back as he rubs over your clit, and you shake your head, doing your best to stay present as you say, "It's good," breathy and clearly on the brink of losing it. "It's a good wine."

"Well, then drink up, darling," Yoongi suggests, raising an eyebrow as your chest heaves. "There's plenty more wine; don't be shy."

You tremble as you lean forward and reach for your glass, gripping the stem tightly to lift it to your lips. Jeongguk's tongue flicks against you in quick, teasing tastes, and you chug back a large gulp, gasping for air once it is swallowed down as pleasure mixes with hints of a buzz. 

Jeongguk wastes no more time, licking and sucking your pussy with skill and vigor. He hums between your legs, making loud wet sounds with his mouth as if you are just another course in his expertly prepared meal. You wonder if he does it to taunt the men at the table, what with how loud he is.

Arousal builds quickly, flooding you hot and fast, making you scrape your fingernails into the arms of the wooden chair as you hold your lips taut between your teeth, desperate to stay silent. It feels good. So good that you have to puff out your cheeks in order to hold back from making any sound. So good that whenever one of the men attempts to speak to you, you respond in nods or a shake of the head, all the while keeping your eyes squeezed shut.

"Do you think we are too mean to her?" Taehyung teases, and you open your eyes to find the three men watching you with hungry, dark expressions. "Perhaps asking her not to make a sound was uncalled for. After all, Jeongguk loves eating pussy, and I imagine he is giving his all to our sweet doll."

"She is quite vocal," Yoongi says with a pout as if taking pity on you. 

"And she does make the sweetest sounds," Namjoon adds with a grin. 

Jeongguk slips a finger into your heat, forcing your entire body to simultaneously attempt to tense and relax. Although it is not much of a stretch, the angle forces him to press against your erogenous zone, and you tremble into the feeling. 

"Dollface?" Taehyung asks, and you turn your attention to him with wide, eager eyes. "Do you think my punishment is too harsh?"

You look around to all three men, attempting to gauge their expressions, which are all somewhere between curious and stern. Although Taehyung seems to be offering you a lifeline, you worry that outright agreeing might be more dangerous in the long run. 

"N-no, sir," you respond, sinking a little further into bliss as Jeongguk finger-fucks and eats you out. "Ah-I was naughty and deserve to be punished."

Taehyung seems pleased, eyes widening as he says, "My, what an obedient girl. You two must have a lot of fun with her, don't you?"

Namjoon leans and drapes an arm over your shoulders, and the weight of it paired with his light, distinguishing musk and delicate cologne does nothing to stave the many tumultuous sensations eager to pour from you. Already, you climb closer to orgasm; all Jeongguk would have to do is slip a second finger inside, and you would burst in seconds. 

"We sure do," Namjoon groans beside you, and the sound of his voice is too much, causing your eyes to roll back once more as you bite your lips closed.

"Since you're so desperate to be good," Taehyung says almost sardonically, "I will let you make all the sounds you need to. But only after you have been granted permission to cum, which you have to beg for."

The men in this so-called family are infuriating with their need to make you beg, and you open your mouth, letting out a quiet shuttering sigh, then lift your gaze to your devious, gracious host and ask, "Please, sir. Please, may I cum?"

"Already?" Taehyung asks, cocking his head with surprise. 

"She is extremely easy to please," Yoongi says, filling you with red-hot embarrassment. 

"Especially since we already made her nice and sensitive earlier," Namjoon adds. "I bet she will become overstimulated fast."

"I'm close," you say, voice coming out a little too broken—too close to a whimper. "Sir, please. I'll never misbehave again, please, please."

The squelch of Jeongguk's finger fucking into you becomes audible, and Namjoon shifts beside you as he asks, "Are you using two fingers, Gguk?"

Frantically, you shake your head, eager to tell Namjoon, No, please, don't encourage him. But Jeongguk is obedient as can be, and he slides his finger out only to press two deep inside. The stretch makes your mouth fall agape, and you huff out silent vowels, holding back so much you practically choke on air. 

"Please," you try again, staring ahead at Taehyung while doing your best to school your features. Pleasure tugs at every inch of you, knitting your brows and forcing your mouth open to hang wide, and you croak around each syllable, muttering like a prayer, "Please, please, please."

"Ggukie," Taehyung calls, "is she close, baby?"

Jeongguk licks a long, slow stripe over you, then calls, "Her muscles keep tensing and relaxing; she feels very close," before getting back to work, making your head absolutely spin.

"I am close," you mutter just above a whisper, desperate. "I'm so close. Please, sir. Please let me cum."

"Are you sure you deserve to?" Taehyung asks.

Petulance rises, and you rotate to glance between Yoongi and Namjoon with a look of sheer desperation that the two of them all but ignore. You confessed your love to these two monsters, and this is the way they treat you in a time of mental and emotional collapse; unbelievable!

"Please," you turn your attention back to Taehyung. You are so close to the edge, every fiber of your being trembles under the pressure of tightening your muscles and staving off release, but you are not sure you can hold on much longer. Orgasm denial is not something you are used to; pretty soon, your body will give into Jeongguk's very talented mouth and fingers and do what it wants to, permission be damned.

Yoongi stands slowly, scraping his chair legs against the wooden floor, then he rounds the table with a look of hunger, slowly stalking. Although you attempt to follow his movements, just having him nearer makes it more and more difficult to hold back. Clearly, these men are determined to torture you.

Yoongi grabs your chairback with both hands, which you see from the corners of your eyes, then he leans close, filling your senses with his musk, asking, "Is our Jeonggukie making you feel good, darling?"

You nod emphatically, biting your lips closed for fear of moaning if you attempt to speak. Jeongguk's fingers press over the sweet spot that makes you crumble so easily, and you squeeze your eyes closed in an attempt to hold your composure. 

"Use your words, sweetheart," Namjoon instructs.

"Ye—" you huff and sigh, eyes widening as Jeongguk's tongue laves and twirls, sloppy and wet. "Y-yes, sir," you practically moan, jaw trembling around each syllable.

"Poor thing," Taehyung teases, "just look at her fall apart."

"Please, sir," you mutter, closing your eyes. "Please, please, please."

With each push and pull of Jeongguk's fingers, you lose the ability to hold on any longer. Your body quakes from the storm that rages inside you, and heat pools and pools, ebbing but never flowing.

"Please," you beg more desperately. "Sir, please!"

"Can't hold on any longer, can you?" Yoongi asks, and you shake your head, muttering, "No, sir; I can't."

With a sigh, almost as if he is annoyed, Taehyung sits forward with both elbows against the table and says, "Alright, pretty doll. Cum for us."

The moment you relax, orgasm rushes through you, dragging you straight to the depths of hell. You practically scream, "Oh, god!" as Jeongguk plunges his fingers deep, sucking at your clit gently in a rhythm that pulls pleasure from every inch of you.

You grip the chair tightly and squeeze your eyes closed, gasping and panting while you cum on Jeongguk's fingers and tongue, coating him in a release that pours from you, hitting your thighs in droplets. Yoongi's arms wrap around you, one splayed hand on your chest while the other loosely grips onto your throat, holding you firmly in place. 

Overstimulation hits just as fast as your orgasm had, and you sob and begin to pull your hips back, eager to force Jeongguk to stop but unwilling to call a safe word or command him to. Jeongguk's mouth feels good—different from the ways Yoongi and Namjoon pleasure you, though you are incapable of determining how. Heat fills your cheeks at the thought of Jeongguk wanting this for as long as you have, and you begin to pull away with more intention, this time. 

"Too much," you beg. "Please, I can't—"

Jeongguk's lips and fingers fall away instantly, leaving you drenched and shivering as the air hits your exposed pussy. Yoongi lets up on his hold around you, and you catch your breath, heaving each exhale through your lungs as if you had just been drowning. 

"Magnificent," Taehyung praises with a smile. "Namjoon is right, you really do make pretty sounds, doll."

"Th-thank you, sir," you gasp, feeling equal parts thrilled and humiliated to cum with Taehyung watching you.

"Can you take more?" Taehyung asks with a raise of an eyebrow. He scoots his chair back and Jeongguk crawls between his legs, resting his head on Taehyung's lap with a dopey, wet smile that you can just barely see past the table. Taehyung rakes his fingers through Jeongguk's hair, keeping his eyes on you. "I can restrain this pretty boy and let you have your way with him, if you would like."

Using Jeongguk for your own pleasure sounds like a fantastic idea, and although you are overstimulated, you nod, slowing your breathing as you say, "I would like that, sir."

"Wonderful!" Taehyung beams, giving Jeongguk a soft pat on the head. "Get a head start, baby. I want to find you in the throne room, naked, in the center of the bed, understand?"

Jeongguk sits high on his knees, tilting his head up to Taehyung with an expression that pours over with affection. "Yes, sir," he says as Taehyung leans down and presses their lips together. Then he stands, and you notice the drool and cum that coats his chin and chest, shimmering in the light. Your gaze flickers to Taehyung just in time to notice him licking his lips, and you burn with the knowledge that he can also taste you. 

Jeongguk leaves the room, and you take the opportunity to reach for your refilled wine glass and chug its contents back, gasping on your next breath while your hands tremble. Taehyung stands and returns to his seat, to the right of you, leaning against the top of the backrest.

"How are you feeling?" he asks in a tone sweet enough to take you by surprise. 

"Good," you respond truthfully, sitting up and squeezing your thighs tight. 

"It goes without saying, but you absolutely do not have to keep going if you need to stop," he assures you, and you smile, giving a slight nod and muttering, "I'm good. I'm enjoying myself."

"Yoongi-hyung? Namjoon-hyung?" Taehyung asks.

"Perfect," Namjoon responds as Yoongi says, "I'm having a great time."

"Good," Taehyung says, clapping his hands together once. "I was prepared to have more of a conversation, but none of that seems necessary, so let's dive right in. Jeongguk and I use the stoplight safeword system, do you know what that is?"

You clear your throat and nod, having learned about this from your days in sex work. "Green for continue, red for stop," you say, unsure what their use of yellow might be, as sometimes it can vary.

"Exactly," Taehyung praises as he walks over and leaves a gentle pat against your head. "Yellow means slow down or let up, depending on what you are doing. You can check in and demand a color, but he is good about calling when he needs to. As for you—" he raises an eyebrow with his hands on his hips, "—Jeongguk and I have agreed that you can fuck him as long as I get to tell you what to do. Yoongi and Namjoon are also welcome to command you. Of course, if there is something you do not enjoy, you get the final say and can call a color, or simply tell us no. We want you to enjoy this experience to the fullest and will never demand anything you dislike. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," you mutter while wrapping your head around everything, feeling equally eager and nervous.

"Perfect," Taehyung says. "I just need ten minutes to get him ready for you…we're in the first door on the right."

As Taehyung begins to walk in the direction Jeongguk went, you sit up with a start. "Wait," you say, feeling nervous to voice your concern. "I…I've never been…dominant, before. Is there anything I should know? Or do?"  

With a grin, Taehyung turns his attention back to you, raking his eyes over you before he shrugs and says, "Just have fun. Jeongguk gets very sensitive if you tease him long enough…so you can lean into that if it's something you enjoy. That is, as long as you are being obedient to our orders."

You nod and say, "Understood," and Taehyung turns away and begins to exit the room. 

"These heathens left a mess behind," Yoongi grumbles as he gets to work covering pots of food and moving them to the stove before opening the cabinets to find storage containers. Namjoon follows suit, collecting plates and wine glasses to rinse and stack in the sink, and you sit in your chair in a bit of a daze, staring around the room, half-noticing the curved shapes of wood carvings on the chairs and the faint shapes of houseplants that you are not able to fully perceive. 

Once the table is clear, Yoongi pulls back a sleeve and checks his watch. "It's been about ten minutes," he says. "Shall we?"

"Best not to make Taehyung wait twice," Namjoon teases as he approaches and reaches a hand for you to take. 

Everything feels hazy and dream-like as the two of them lead you through Taehyung's house to the stairs near the front foyer. Each step creeks gently underfoot, and the closer you climb to the second level, the more frenzied your heart becomes. Your panties are soaked, askew, and uncomfortable, and your hand prickles with sweat in Namjoon's firm hold, which you grip a little tighter once you get to the upper landing. 

"Ready?" Namjoon asks sweetly, and you nod, muttering, "Yes, daddy," earning your palm a squeeze. 

As soon as you turn to enter the hallway, and turn again to the first room on the right, it becomes evident that this is not the master suite but a room they have specifically for sex. To the left in this large room is a king-sized four-poster bed covered in black satin with black mesh hanging down over and tied neatly to each post. Rigged between the two posts at the head of the bed is some metal bar contraption that Jeongguk is attached to, and it takes a few moments of staring at him for the scene to fully settle in.

Jeongguk is nude with his hands over his head, arms extended long, with his wrists restrained high enough that he has to sit tall on his legs. Except his thighs have leather straps around them, connected to leather straps around his ankles, suspending him in a somewhat strange position, as he does not seem able to fully sit tall or relax all the way down. 

"Breathtaking, isn't he?" Taehyung asks from a large black and gold throne to the right, overlooking the scene. He sits slouched against one arm of the square, wooden seat with a leg slung over the other arm, lounged and looking bored. 

You nod and mutter, "Yes, sir," as you turn your attention back to Jeongguk, whose head hangs slightly forward, short dark hair messy and covering his eyes. 

And he really is breathtaking. The way he sits has so many muscles taut and strained, covering his body in beautiful topography. His pierced nipples glimmer in the golden light of the room, and there is a perfectly inviting trail of dark hairs that travel from his cute, round navel down to the cock that hangs heavy and semi-soft between his legs. 

"Jeonggukie," Taehyung calls, voice magnanimous yet sharp, "eyes up, baby."

Jeongguk lifts his head, and already his eyes look glazed over and a little lost, as if the simple act of being restrained is enough to give him immense pleasure. When his gaze lands on you, a dopey smile tugs at his lips, which he wets with his tongue, dragging the inviting pink muscle slowly as if to tell you that he can still taste you—or, perhaps, that he wants to taste you again.

"Dollface," Taehyung calls, and you turn to look at him with wide, eager eyes, feeling somewhat intoxicated by this entire scene and still reeling from what happened downstairs. 

"Yes, sir?" you ask sweetly. 

"Unless we say so, from now on, keep your eyes on Jeongguk, understand?"

"Yes, sir," you respond, turning your attention back to Jeongguk.

"I imagine this setup is a bit overwhelming for you," Taehyung continues. "What is your color, pretty?"

This setup is overwhelming, but you are incredibly intrigued and find this submissive side of Jeongguk rather promising. "Green, sir."

"Good," Taehyung says as Namjoon's palm slides away from your hold and both men walk toward Taehyung, leaving you alone. "I want you to strip, right where you stand, keeping your eyes on Jeongguk. Can you do that for us?"

With a nod, you swallow a lump of nervousness and respond, "Yes, sir."

The dress zips in the back, and you reach with your right hand, fumbling with the material before reaching with your left hand to grip onto the dress and slide the zipper down. You only make it a few inches and have to bunch the dress up even more, feeling grateful this the material is actually loose and that you are not stuck having to contort yourself uselessly for an audience. It takes time, though—bunching, unzipping, bunching some more, unzipping some more—until finally, you are able to reach back with your arms lowered and get ahold of the zipper, tugging it down to your waist. 

Jeongguk watches intently as you slide the black dress down, away from your chest. You wear a thin, mesh black bra and matching panties, and you feel your nipples begin to harden beneath the material as the air hits your exposed skin, causing a very slight shiver to work its way along your back. 

When the dress falls past your hips, down to the floor, all that covers you are thin, small swathes of black material, and you fight the urge to lift your arms to shield yourself, holding your arms stiffly to your sides while you stare at Jeongguk, who stares back. 

"Strip all the way down, darling," Yoongi instructs, and you mutter, "Yes, sir," as you reach back and unclasp the bra. 

Jeongguk's gaze widens and softens as the material falls away to the floor in a heap in front of you, and his eyes follow the path of your hands, down to where your thumbs hook under your panties and push-pull them away. 

"Jeonggukie," Taehyung calls, "how is she?"

"Beautiful," Jeongguk responds in a dreamy, faraway tone. "She's perfect."

"Dollface, join our sweet boy on the bed, please," Taehyung instructs. 

"Yes, sir," you say as you force your feet to step from the pile of clothing and move forward. The bed is tall enough that you need to place your hands down and swing one knee up, hoisting yourself forward. You crawl to Jeongguk, and then sit tall on your knees before him. From this close, he is a work of art—a perfect blend of soft and firm lines that appear handcrafted with utmost care. 

"Dollface, I want you to tease our sweet Jeonggukie. You are not allowed to touch his cock or asshole unless given permission, but everything else is fair game. Rile him up, make him whine, make him beg. He likes it a little rough so don't be afraid to pinch, slap, scratch, bite…whatever it takes to drive him crazy. Does all this sound good?"

"Yes sir," you respond, unmoving as you decide where to start. It feels like you have been given too many choices, and suddenly, you feel overwhelmed. "Can I kiss him, sir?" you ask, inching closer on your knees.

"Of course, doll," Taehyung calls happily, and you continue to inch closer. 

Sitting high on your knees, you reach up and drag the backs of your fingernails over Jeongguk's cheeks, causing him to tremble and take in a deep, slow breath. His eyelids flutter, but he keeps his gaze on you, lips lifting and moving slightly, as if he has something to say. As your right hand continues to work its way up, over a scratchy shaved undercut and into thick, straight hair, your left thumb drags down, over his bottom lip, pulling it past his teeth until it stretches to its limit and pops back into place.

"So pretty," you whisper, watching Jeongguk's eyes widen. He must not be allowed to speak unless spoken to, but you have been given no such instruction. "I've never done something like this before. You're my first."

Jeongguk's mouth twitches around a syllable left unvoiced, and you lean forward and suck his bottom lip between your teeth, soft at first, then a little harder, making Jeongguk gasp, tasting skin and metal. You dart your tongue out to soothe over the scrape of your teeth, unable to hold in a whimper when Jeongguk's tongue meets yours, and you take the sides of his face in both hands to deepen the kiss, shoving your tongue into his mouth, forcing him to open around you while he moans, soft and inviting. 

You lick hints of your own arousal from his mouth, then smile against his lips as you say, "You taste like me…so sweet," watching with delight as he holds back from responding, brows knitting as if pained. 

This time, when you kiss him, you take his hair in both hands and grip. Jeongguk groans as his head is yanked backward, and you suck and nip at his bottom lip, making him whimper uselessly, darting his tongue out as if in search of a deeper kiss—desperate.

"So pretty," you say again while nipping at his jaw, holding his hair tight in your grip and letting your teeth snag and tease the skin all the way to his ear. 

Jeongguk trembles in your hold, and when you reach his ear, taking it gently in your teeth, he lets out a sweet little song of, "Ah-ah-ah," shivering madly in your grasp while his back arches. 

"Oh you are sensitive," you tease before taking his earlobe between your teeth again, a little more roughly, until he cries out a pitchy little yelp.

"Color, baby?" you ask, to which Jeongguk quickly responds, "Green, noona."

Hearing Jeongguk call you noona should not excite you so much, but arousal builds between your legs, and you feel the urge to keep pushing him for more. You nibble down the long, salty-sweet expanse of Jeongguk's neck, savoring the taste of his sweat, dragging your fingernails from his hair, to the back of his neck, over to his shoulders, and down along his spine. Jeongguk responds in jerks and gasps, and you continue down, down, until your mouth reaches one of his pierced nipples. 

With a flick of your tongue, Jeongguk responds as if he has been shocked, back bowing as his body shakes. His pebbled, pierced skin is inviting, and you lick again, this time slowly dragging your tongue over him, feeling every tiny curve, tasting hints of titanium. 

You scrape your fingernails down Jeongguk's ribs while you suck his pierced nipple into your mouth, reveling in the sweet, broken sounds he makes. He seems to be holding back, and you feel determined to make him sob. Although you two are becoming closer as friends, he was a bit of a prick to you for months, and you intend to let him know that you have not forgotten.

"Color?" you ask, knowing it'll be green, just to make him speak. 

"Green, noona," Jeongguk responds almost robotically—not good enough. 

Once more, you sit up tall, taking his hair in one hand and his jaw in the other. Your hand trembles as you pull it back and crash your fingertips against his cheek, gasping in tandem as Jeongguk's eyes widen, difficult to read. 

"Color?" you ask, receiving, "Green, noona," instantly. 

You slap again, this time a little harder, and Jeongguk gasps but holds his composure nicely. So you tug his hair harder, just enough to pull his head back, before you slap again. The skin of his cheek begins to redden, and you give it quick, softer taps, moving your fingertips little by little, covering the expanse of his cheek. 

"Color?"

"Green, noona."

This time, when you slap, it stings your fingertips, and Jeongguk groans. His cheeks seem to be the wrong place to tease, however, so you sit back, releasing his hair and rethinking your plan. 

"Darling," Yoongi calls, and you nearly turn to look at him but correct yourself, staring Jeongguk in the eyes as you say, "Yes, sir?"

"The way he's suspended is really taxing on the legs. If you're trying to hurt the poor boy, I recommend the thighs."

Jeongguk's eyes widen further, and you smirk as you say, "Yes, sir."

From across the room, you hear Taehyung gleefully say, "Hyung you are evil."

Slowly, you drag your fingernails from Jeongguk's shoulders, along the curves of his pecs, down his ribs. Finally, at his hips, you allow yourself to look down and find a very inviting semi-erect cock hanging between his legs. Of course, Jeongguk is perfect in every way, and you bite your lip as you attempt to pull your vision away, to his thighs instead. 

With both hands splayed open, you lift and crash your palms down onto Jeongguk's thighs, and he cries out, sobbing on the end of the sound. A thrill quakes through you, and you rub your hands over his thighs, lift both, and slam your left one down hard. 

"Fu—ahh!" Jeongguk screams. 

"Color, baby?" you ask sweetly. 

You glance up and catch him hesitating before saying, "Green, noona."

Without giving him a chance to relax, you slap your right hand down, followed by your left, watching his face as it contorts in pleasured pain while he bleats pathetically. 

"Color?"

"G-green, noona."

Again and again, you slap, moving your hands over to the sides of his thighs, rubbing your palms and alternating which side slaps, never in a discernable pattern, always to catch him off guard. 

Finally, you ask, "Color, pretty," impressed when he gasps, "Yellow, noona!"

Gently, you rub your hands over his thighs and sink down low, rubbing your cheek and lips over his left thigh, smiling sweetly against him. From here, there is a gentle, inviting musk coming from his lap that is difficult to resist. You lick your lips at the thought of swallowing him whole, then turn your face away, kissing the sore, warm skin of his leg while breathing through the arousal that licks at you, urging you to be selfish and take.

"Sweetheart," Namjoon calls, and you sit up, eyes on Jeongguk as you say, "Yes, daddy?"

Curiosity flashes in Jeongguk's eyes, and you wonder if he is attempting to calculate the various dynamics of your relationship. Using the term daddy with an audience is slightly embarrassing, and you shift in place, waiting for his response. 

"I don't think Jeongguk got a good enough look at you under that table. You should sit back and touch yourself for him…show him how wet he made you."

The edges of Jeongguk's lips curve, and you hesitate. It is not that you don't want to touch yourself with an audience, but it does add to the humiliation to have your two partners and one of their best friends sitting on the sidelines, watching you. 

"Color, doll?" Taehyung asks.

Somehow, the concern in his voice grounds you, and you say, "Green, sir," adding, "Thank you for the advice, daddy," so that Namjoon does not feel left out.

"Such a good girl," Namjoon praises as you sit back and scoot enough to spread your thighs around Jeongguk. 

There is more than enough room on the large bed to sprawl out, but you stay close, sweeping one of your feet against the outside of Jeongguk's restrained leg as you reach your hand between your legs and slowly drag your fingers over yourself, spreading and teasing your folds. 

Desire burns through you as you touch yourself while Jeongguk watches, eyes wide and hungry, trailing from your pussy, over your body, and back down. Slowly, you sink your middle finger inside, and although the size is nowhere near enough to stretch, a thrill quakes through you, making you moan as you gather release from your earlier orgasm and pull your finger out. 

Jeongguk licks his lips, intently watching as you use your slick finger to spread yourself and swirl over your clit. It feels good, a simmering pleasure that covers you in warmth, and you loll your head back, hesitant to let go enough to moan, whimpering more softly than usual.

"Be vocal, darling," Yoongi calls, and you squeeze your eyes closed for a second as you say, "Yes, sir," frustrated that absolutely nothing can get past these men, but also grateful for the push.

You still hesitate as you open your mouth to moan, but with each sound you make, Jeongguk appears to lose his composure more and more. With a nibble on your lower lip, you circle over your clit, then rub down to your hole, up and down, gathering more and more release, becoming wetter and wetter, all for him. 

"Do you like what you see?" you ask, eager to tease despite the tremble in your voice. 

"Yes, noona," Jeongguk gasps, swallowing thickly before his mouth falls wide. 

"So wet for you, Jeonggukie," you moan, using your other hand to rub and pinch at your breasts. "Too bad you can't fuck me."

Jeongguk whimpers and shakes in his restraints, legs straining and arms moving. His distress urges you on, and you rub over your breasts more, gathering and squeezing the soft skin between your fingers while dipping two fingers into your pussy. 

"I want you so bad," you pout, watching as Jeongguk crumbles. "My fingers aren't big enough…but you are."

"Please," Jeongguk mutters, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Please, sir. Please."

"Begging already?" Taehyung teases and Jeongguk nods emphatically. 

Jeongguk's voice sounds dreamy, and he licks his lips again. "Please, sir. I've been good."

You can hear Taehyung stand and begin to approach before he comes into view, climbing onto the bed, on his knees, reaching up to drag his fingertips up and down the length of Jeongguk's arms. At first, you feel shy to be on display for him, but Taehyung does not regard you, keeping his eyes on Jeongguk. 

"You really have been very good," Taehyung praises as he nuzzles against Jeongguk's neck. Jeongguk leans into the touch, doing his best to keep his eyes on you as Taehyung continues. "You cooked an excellent meal, and you were very obedient when I told you to make our doll cum."

"I've been good, sir," Jeongguk whimpers as if stuck on repeat. "Please, sir. I've been good."

Without another word, Taehyung reaches up and begins to undo Jeongguk's wrist restraints, slowly lowering his arms one by one and rubbing his palms from Jeongguk's shoulders to his hands. With a sigh that sounds like relief, Jeongguk sits back on his heels. 

"I'll undo your legs too, but you have to behave," Taehyung says as he begins to unhook one of the thigh restraints. "You are only allowed to do as you are told and nothing more, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jeongguk responds with a sharp smile, eyes focused on you. 

Although your moments have slowed, you continue to tease yourself with your fingers, watching as Taehyung crawls around Jeongguk's back to free his other thigh. Taehyung crawls backward, then stands beside the bed, out of your direct line of vision. 

"Sit back," he commands, patting the bed, and Jeongguk does as he is told, sliding back and extending his legs in front of him, settling against the tall wooden headboard. 

"Dollface," Taehyung calls, and you keep your eyes on Jeongguk but instinctively begin to sit up as you respond, "Yes, sir?"

"He's all yours," Taehyung says as his voice travels back to where the throne sits. "Have fun." 

"Thank you, sir," you respond as you sit forward, getting swiftly onto your hands and knees. 

With the possibilities suddenly seemingly endless, you feel overwhelmed, but you crawl forward and cage Jeongguk's reddened thighs, hovering close to his leaking cock, which sits pretty and thick against his tummy. 

"Is Jeongguk an impatient man, sir?" you ask, watching as Jeongguk fails to keep his expressions schooled, eyes sharpening and widening. 

"Extremely impatient," Taehyung responds, making Jeongguk huff a sigh. "If you decide to go slow it might drive him insane."

With a smirk, you mutter, "Noted, sir," then lean forward, touching the very tip of your tongue to the very bottom of Jeongguk's shaft and dragging up slow, slow, slow. His skin is velvet-soft, and you drool as you lift your head just below the crown, humming as Jeongguk trembles and gasps. 

You kiss over the crown, right where the skin is softest, pressing your lips nice and wide before sucking and lapping at the skin in slow, gentle movements. Jeongguk groans, sounding almost pained, and you continue to lick languidly, teasing the skin, giving him just enough pressure to feel something but not enough to satiate any hunger. 

"Please," Jeongguk whispers, and you glance up, tongue outstretched against him, to find a look of desperation tugging at the corners of his eyes. You hesitate to respond for a fraction of a second, feeling momentarily astounded that this is happening.

"Please, what?" you urge, watching as his jaw trembles. 

"Please, noona. Please touch me more."

Teasing Jeongguk is a thrill, but you are quickly losing your composure, and as much as you want to listen to him beg and beg, you are also too eager to continue holding back. In a swift movement, you tilt your head forward and swallow Jeongguk's cock, taking him only halfway while sucking on the tip. 

Jeongguk moans loud and eager, music to your ears. You hear Taehyung say, "Hands at your sides," and imagine Jeongguk must have been moments away from taking your head in his hands, sending a thrill down your spine. 

With a pleased groan, you lift your head and settle a little higher on your knees between Jeongguk's spread legs. At this angle, you can take him into your mouth much more easily, and you sink down until he nearly hits your throat, feeling the tight squeeze of your lips accommodate his girth. 

"Fuck," Jeongguk mutters, "you feel so good."

Jeongguk's words of encouragement spur you on, and you hum happily as you bob your head slow but steady, lodging his cock into your throat just enough that it nearly makes you gag before coming back for air. You can hear the sound of his fists gripping the sheet below, soft material scratching against blunt fingernails—a quiet, tactile cry of desperation. 

As you lift your head, you swirl your tongue over his shaft, then release, opening your eyes and looking upward, watching as Jeongguk melts from the sight of you holding your mouth wide, saliva falling like garland hung between your tongue and his cock. 

"You taste good, Ggukie," you say as the spit breaks and falls against your chin and chest, some dripping onto your knees. Eager to tease but nervous to dirty talk, you swallow thickly and do your best to sound confident as you crawl high onto your knees and begin to straddle his lap. "I could do this all day…but I want to feel you so badly."

"God, yes," Jeongguk groans, gripping tightly to the comforter at his sides. "Please, noona."

"What a shame you can't touch me," you pout while wrapping your arms around his shoulders, sitting high on your knees. "I bet you could make me feel so good."

You tilt your hips low, dragging yourself over Jeongguk's length, coating him in your arousal. Jeongguk whimpers and it sounds so sweet and so needy, you bite your lip and smile. Slowly, you push your chest out, dragging your breasts over his clavicle and pecs, and Jeongguk looks pained from how little you are giving him. 

You lean close and mutter, "Kiss me. Show me how badly you want me."

With a groan, Jeongguk tilts his mouth to yours and eagerly sucks at your bottom lip before prising your mouth open, making way for his tongue. You hold him steady, keeping his head close, but still, he leans his face into yours, groaning desperately, rough in the way his forehead and nose press against yours, desperate in the way his teeth gnash and nip between wide, ravenous licks. 

You part from the kiss and grip onto Jeongguk's chin, smirking as you angle your hips forward, surprising yourself with how easily you snag Jeongguk's cock on your entrance and begin to lower yourself on him. Jeongguk's eyes widen then roll back as you lower and lift your hips just enough to tease his tip, sighing through the stretch. 

"Please," Jeongguk mutters, eyes and mouth fluttering and trembling so pretty and so wrecked. "Noona, please fuck me. Please, please, please."

"Awe, baby," you tease, lowering yourself further, gasping a silent sob from how incredible he feels. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

"She caved so quickly," Taehyung grumbles, reminding you that you have an audience, causing your cheeks to warm with humiliation.

Yoongi chuckles as he mutters, "I'm actually shocked by how long she held out."

You roll your eyes despite Yoongi being correct about your impatience. Holding back for as long as you have has not been easy, and truthfully, you deserve to be praised for your efforts. 

"Typically, she's begging us in an instant," Namjoon adds, and you bite back an indignant smile.

You would absolutely run your mouth if you thought the three doms chiding you would let you away with it, but you are not eager to test them—not with Taehyung, who seems to have the firmest willpower and most sadistic tendencies, present. You finally have Jeongguk nestled deep inside you, and you are not willing to fuck this up for either of you. 

The unraveled straps of the restraints that were wrapped around Jeongguk's wrists hang low, about a foot above his shoulders, and you reach up, gripping onto the leather. You hold on tight and moan as you lift and swivel your hips, teasing Jeongguk's tip and pulling a soft, impatient huff from his chest. 

Jeongguk's eyes rove over your body, up to your face, as he cranes his head back. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, and you tilt your head to the side to ask, "What is it? Speak, boy."

"Beautiful," Jeongguk mutters sweetly, and you feel your heart skip a beat. You smile, then bite it back, trying to be a tease, not feel fluffy. 

"Shut up," you grumble quietly, lowering your hips just enough to make Jeongguk croak out a soft moan before lifting. With the help of the straps, you find a good angle for your back to arch, allowing you to bounce your ass just enough to tease his tip. 

Jeongguk whines and huffs, squeezing the sheet below him, causing peaks of material to form—mountains of tested patience reaching a breaking point. And although it feels good to stretch yourself around just the end of him, you want the rest, so you release one strap and then the other, settling with your hands on his shoulders and sinking down deep with a moan and pleasure flows through you in waves.

"Fuck," Jeongguk whimpers, dragging the word out long.

The stretch is enough to make you quake, but you do not have the ability to keep teasing yourself, even if it means finally caving in and giving Jeongguk what he wants. You lift your hips and drop them, choking on a sob that is punctuated by a deep moan. Pleasure bursts and settles into your limbs, tingling through you like electricity, and you wrap your arms tight around his shoulder and neck and begin to fuck yourself on his length.

"Feels so good," you moan, eyes shut and head tilted back, using Jeongguk to chase your high, eager to cum all over him and make a fucking mess. 

Jeongguk's lips drag over your neck and shoulder, huffing hot breath that turns your skin sticky, and you do your best to keep a steady rhythm, climbing closer and closer to bliss, reaching the precipice little by little. 

"God, look at her," Namjoon groans, making you shiver. You shouldn't be so greedy, but you do wish Namjoon could climb onto this bed and help you use Jeongguk.

"Stunning, always," Yoongi responds, and your heart and soul yearn for him, desperate to feel Yoongi once more, even if it has only been hours since the last time. 

"Our poor Gguk is going to rip holes in this sheet by the time I allow him to touch her," Taehyung teases. "I haven't seen him this wound up in ages."

Jeongguk sighs and groans, then leans slightly back as his head lolls from side to side. He looks like he is about to burst, and you slow your hips, watching intently as he shakes his head and frowns, muttering, "Please, noona, please don't stop."

Rather than listen to his pleas, you lift your hips all the way, sending his cock to hit his tummy in a wet splat. Jeongguk grumbles, and you lean in to nibble at his chin and jaw until he shivers, then you back away from his lap and spin around.

As soon as you turn away from Jeongguk and lift your head, you are met with your own reflection, staring back from a floor-to-ceiling mirror that runs from the door to the conjoining wall. You gasp as you take in the sight of yourself on your hands and knees covered in a sheen of sweat, with Jeongguk sitting high on his knees behind you. 

Jeongguk watches the mirror, smiling as you regain your composure and back up on your knees, grabbing for his cock with one hand while lowering yourself down. As soon as you are partially seated on his erection, you use both hands to spread your ass, arching your back as you lower yourself, eyes on the mirror to see Jeongguk staring down, moaning with his mouth hung wide. 

"Like what you see, baby?" you ask as you begin to raise and lower your hips. 

Jeongguk's eyes snap to the mirror, and he appears dazed as he says, "Yes, noona."

You sit up high on your knees and anchor your hands against your thighs as you begin to ride Jeongguk, finding a steady rhythm that sends your pleasure building once more. At this angle, his tip rubs over your erogenous zone, and you tilt your head back, moaning and gasping with each delicious drag. 

With one hand gripping to your thigh, you reach the other between your legs, rubbing over your clit, desperate to cum. Your hope is that once you orgasm, you can barter with the doms to allow Jeongguk to touch you; you want his hands on you, groping, squeezing, and holding you down. Just the thought alone has you speeding toward bliss, and you press your fingertips just a little more firmly against your clit and slam your hips down so hard it stings. 

"Fuck," you whimper, chasing your high faster and faster, "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum."

The sound of one of the men clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth makes you jolt, and you begin to fear the worst. Sure enough, Taehyung asks, "Did we say you could cum, pretty?" and you begin to feel frantic, though you do not slow your movements. 

"N-no," you mutter weakly, "but, I thought—"

"I'm just toying with you, pretty," Taehyung interrupts with a chuckle, filling you with relief. 

"If I cum, will you let him touch me, sir?" you ask, watching Jeongguk's lips twitch through the mirror. 

"I suppose I could allow that," Taehyung responds. "Since you've been so obedient."

"Yes," you whimper, lifting and slamming your hips, so close to the edge. "Thank you, sir."

"Fucking squeezing me," Jeongguk groans behind you, and you glance into the mirror to find him sitting tense, staring down at your ass. 

Jeongguk looks fucked out and on the brink of collapse with sweat dripping down his neck and his face screwed up in both pleasure and impatience. You imagine him holding you down against the mattress to use you just as you have used him, and that thought is exactly what you need to plummet into euphoria. 

"Fuck," you whimper, "I'm gonna—"

Your orgasm crashes through you, snapped suddenly with a burst of energy that throws you forward as you quake and sob, gripping onto the black satin sheet with both hands while you desperately move your hips, chasing more and more until you are no longer able to move, moaning and sobbing as your muscles tense and release around Jeongguk. You squeeze around him, eager to chase more bliss, but your body feels tired, and your legs quake. 

"Sir, please," you whimper as your hips slow and you become too overcome to keep a steady rhythm, "please let him touch me."

"Jeongguk really has excellent stamina," Taehyung says, sending a chill through you as he adds, "if we allow him to fuck her, he might just break her in half."

"She can take it," Yoongi insists in a tone that is familiar and dangerous. "She can handle the two of us, after all."

After a short pause, Taehyung calls, "Jeonggukie," and you glance into the mirror, watching as Jeongguk's mouth twists into a sharp, dangerous smirk. 

"Yes, sir?" he responds, eyes on your reflection.  

"You have permission to touch and to speak," Taehyung says, and you watch as Jeongguk releases the poor sheet from his grip, stretching and squeezing his palms at his sides. "The hyungs say she cums really easily…but I bet you can't give her three more orgasms by the time you're finished."

It should be terrifying the way Jeongguk looks down at you suddenly as if you are a piece of meat, licking at his teeth while dragging his hands from your hips to your shoulders, and back down. Jeongguk adjusts behind you, still buried deep, and he settles with one hand on your hip and the other gripping the back of your neck. 

"Stay on your hands and knees," Jeongguk instructs firmly, making you shiver. "And keep your eyes on me."

You barely have a chance to mutter, "Yes, sir," before he pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, spearing you on his length far deeper than when you were riding him. The pleasure-pain is incredible, and the moan that falls from your lips is broken, no more than rough a burst of air. Jeongguk wastes no time digging his fingertips into your soft skin and setting a pace that is brutal enough to make you scream. 

It feels impossible to keep your eyes open and on Jeongguk's reflection, but you do your best, only allowing your eyelids to flutter closed momentarily. Jeongguk is very clearly punishing you for teasing him so much, and you do your best to take everything he gives you, moaning and sobbing with each deep thrust. 

"Fuck, you feel so good, doll," Jeongguk groans, digging his fingertips deeper. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep my fucking hands off you?"

The hand around your neck moves up to your face, and Jeongguk slides two fingers into the side of your mouth, gently tugging as he holds your head up, keeping your back bowed and ass held high. 

"Shit, you're so fucking tight," he groans, lifting the hand on your hip to smack your ass, making you squeal around his fingers from the tingle of pain. "So fucking wet."

Jeongguk's praises make your head spin, and it takes no time at all to chase another high. Your reflection is absolutely debauched, and you stare ahead at yourself and at Jeongguk, still unable to shake the surprise that this is actually, finally happening. Jeongguk is absolutely ruthless with his thrusts, and you squeeze around him in a rhythm that matches his, building and building your next orgasm, quaking uncontrollably as it begins to roll through you like a hurricane. 

"You're fucking cuming again, aren't you?" Jeongguk groans as your muscles flutter around him. 

"Yes," you mutter, attempting to nod with your head stuck in place. "Yes, please, please make me cum again."

Jeongguk slides the hand from your mouth, down to your shoulder, and fucks into you, moaning to match your sounds as your orgasm reaches its peak and causes you to sob and slip forward, unable to hold yourself up. Although you are disobeying his rule to stay on your hands, Jeongguk seems unphased, and he rubs his hands over your back and then presses your shoulders down into the soft sheet while his hips stay just as steady.

"She really is fucking easy," Jeongguk teases as he leans forward, pressing his weight into you. 

You turn your head to the side and lock eyes with Namjoon, who sits on one wide, wooden arm of the throne with his legs spread wide, watching you with a fire burning in his gaze. 

"Incredible, isn't she?" Yoongi asks, and you move your focus to him, on the other arm of the wooden throne, leaning forward with one elbow on his knee. 

Jeongguk pulls out, and you sob, clenching around nothing while his hands move down the expanse of your back, to your ass. He spreads you wide with both palms while bending lowly then licks from your clit all the way to your asshole, and you gasp then whimper, sinking deeper forward while arching your back to present yourself as best as you can.

The sloppy, hungry way he laps over your cunt is intoxicating, and when he curves up to your ass to dig his tongue into your tight rim, you grip roughly at the satin sheet, babbling nonsense at the sensation. Two fingers slide into your pussy, and Jeongguk slurps at your ass while his fingers stroke your erogenous zone, humming and groaning loudly. 

"Oh my god," you whimper as Jeongguk's ministrations intensify. There is no way you are going to last long like this, and you do your best to relax despite how taut you feel pulled from every delicious movement. You knew Jeongguk would be good, but this is practically soul-crushing with the way your pleasure builds and builds.

Jeongguk's fingers squelch inside you, and you feel the spray of your arousal hit your thighs while his tongue slurps and prods, breaching your hole and making a sloppy fucking mess.

"Please, Jeongguk," you whimper like a prayer into the sheet, which is sticky-warm with drool. "Please don't stop. Please, please, please."

Jeongguk groans into you, plunging his tongue and fingers in deep, pulling you apart at the threads. Orgasm hits like a freight train—fast and sudden and unforgiving, a crash without casualties. You scream and claw at the blanket as your release squirts from you, coating your thighs, sloppy and loud.

You quake and sob uncontrollably, lips dragging against satin as Jeongguk pulls his fingers from you and sinks low enough to lick over your cunt in firm, broad strokes. He hums as he devours you, squeezing at the backs of your thighs and filling you to the brim with oversensitivity. 

"Two down, one to go," Jeongguk gasps as he sits back and releases you from his hold. 

He pushes against your hip, sending you crashing into the mattress, and you mutter equal parts indignant and incoherent as he begins to turn you onto your back in a haphazard twist of heavy limbs. You feel exhausted, but you do your best, digging your head into the bed while settling onto your back.

Jeongguk towers over you tall and pretty like a demon of pleasure, glistening and muscular and so fucking handsome. You attempt to smile, panting around each breath, and Jeongguk crawls between your legs, lifting one over his shoulder while spreading the other wide. 

"You look fucking wrecked, doll," he teases as he leans forward and rubs beneath your eyes, undoubtedly to clean up a mess of mascara that has smeared. You pout, and he chuckles, adding, "Still gorgeous though. Perfect, even. I would have been gunning for this pussy long ago if I had known how much fun you are."

"Shut the fuck up," you mutter breathlessly, making Jeongguk chuckle. 

"Never made someone squirt before," he continues, lining his cock up with your aching entrance. "You've done wonders to inflate my ego, doll."

"Great," you mutter, attempting to roll your eyes indignantly, instead rolling them involuntarily as he slides in deep, filling you in one swift thrust. 

You moan as your body responds, pelvis lifting and arousal crashing. Jeongguk begins to roll his hips in a dizzying, tantalizing motion, and you do your best to relax despite the turmoil that already builds, threatening to tear you asunder. You are dangerously close to overstimulation, but you do not want to call your safe word. Jeongguk still has not cum, and you desperately want him to. 

"She's a goner," Namjoon chuckles, and you hate how well he can read you. "This will be her last orgasm before she becomes too overwhelmed, Gguk, so make sure you cum."

Jeongguk feigns a pout, reaching down to press two fingers between your lips, smiling softly when you do your best to suck around them. His hips are steady and much slower, dragging in a way that lets you feel every perfect inch of him along your swollen walls.

"I won't be able to last much longer," Jeongguk assures, voice dipped low and sweet. "Taehyung bragged about my stamina, but you got me so fucking worked up. You can call your safe word if you need to, though. Yoongi told me it's sakura."

You suck on Jeongguk's fingers and allow your eyes to close momentarily, drifting into a state of full-body bliss. Despite how heavy your limbs feel, you are floaty and weightless. Euphoric. 

"How do you stay so fucking tight?" Jeongguk groans as his hips pick up a quicker pace, skin slapping against skin. "How are you so fucking wet?"

You want to complain and tell Jeongguk to shut up, but the thought of speaking feels like too much, so you continue to suck mindlessly while Jeongguk uses you. He needs to finish before you lose your grasp on reality, and you are teetering dangerously close to that edge, lulled by the rhythmic thrust of his cock. 

Jeongguk moans and sighs, becoming louder the harder he fucks you. His voice is sweet when lilted high and pitchy, and inviting when it is deep and dulcet. You could drown in him, really—in fact, you think you just might. 

Time and space slip—float away like vapor in the air. You lay pliant and malleable as Jeongguk bends forward and leans back, changing angles, spearing you deep, rubbing places inside you that are carved wide just for him. When he finally pulls his fingers from your mouth to press them against your clit, you feel like you are dreaming. 

"One last orgasm," he pleads gently, twirling over you in incorrigible movements. "I won't last much longer."

You pull your arms over your head and stretch your back, arching into Jeongguk's steady, determined thrusts. With the final ounce of energy you have left, you tense and relax around his length, working your muscles to a rhythm that will help you cum. Not that you need to help him; Jeongguk's fingers work over your bud, pulling you closer and closer with each swipe of skin against skin. 

"Close," you whimper, feeling pleasure build. 

Jeongguk must take your affirmation as incentive to fuck harder, deeper, faster. Your eyes roll back as his pace reaches heights you have come to expect, and you grip at the satin sheet above your head as you stare into oblivion. 

And then, you drop. All at once, without warning, your arousal reaches its breaking point and bursts. 

"Fuck," you squeak through a sob, mouth frozen in bliss, desperately forming broken syllables until you are finally able to create words. "Oh fuck, I'm cuming. Jeongguk!"

Jeongguk leans forward, dropping your leg from his shoulder to the mattress and placing both hands beside your head. His pace falters as he leans close and slots his lips against yours, moaning and whimpering into your open mouth while he licks and sucks at your lips and tongue. 

"Feels so good," Jeongguk groans into your mouth. "I'm gonna cum, holy shit."

Jeongguk trembles, body lurching forward before he is up on his knees, pulling out and spraying his release onto your tummy, warm and viscous, quickly turning cold. You giggle, though you are unsure what is funny; you feel absolutely fucking broken.

One of the men begins to clap—you assume Taehyung—and then the others join in. You drag your arms down, over your face, cringing as you attempt to roll into a ball and disappear. "Please don't make this weird," you grumble as you turn to your side, only slightly bothered by the trickle of cum that runs along your tummy, down to the sheet.

Jeongguk hovers close, chuckling and pulling on your shoulder to get you to return to your back, and you resist, sleepy and no longer in the mood for any of these men; fucked past your limit and reeling from everything that has transpired. 

"Let's get you into a bath," Jeongguk offers, and you loosen your limbs a little, willing to tolerate them a little more if it means a nice hot bath. "Hyung has a huge jacuzzi in his room, and I bet he would be more than happy to turn it on and get it nice and warm for us."

"It would be my pleasure," Taehyung responds, and you hear the sound of wood creaking as he stands and walks out of the room, footsteps quieting the further he gets. 

Behind you, the bed dips, and you roll onto your back, eager to find out whether Yoongi and Namjoon are here to bother you—pleased to see that it is both of them.

"Darling," Yoongi says with a grin, dancing fingertips over your leg, which is bent at the knee. His touch tickles, and you shiver but do nothing to make him stop. "How do you feel?"

"Great," you mutter without thinking, voice wrecked and rasped from screaming. 

"That was quite the performance," Namjoon adds, sitting beside your head and wiping his hand over your forehead. "I'm surprised you had no issue with letting all of us watch that."

You shrug, still not fully grasping the gravity of the situation. "We're all friends," you mutter, making Yoongi chuckle.

Taehyung returns, and you grin widely, appreciative of him for letting you fuck Jeongguk. And sure, you are aware that your thought process is a bit ridiculous, but you feel drunk from this scenario—far more intoxicated than the two glasses of red wine could have made you. 

To your surprise, Taehyung holds his arms out and asks, "May I?" 

Your assumption is that he either wants to hug you, or that he plans to carry you off to the jacuzzi, and both options sound nice, so you roll onto your side and then to your knees and crawl haphazardly into his open arms. 

"Do you always turn into such a little baby after getting fucked?" Taehyung asks, to which Yoongi and Namjoon say, "Yes," in tandem. 

"Sometimes," you respond dreamily as Taehyung scoops you up bridal style, holding you close to his chest while whisking you away.

"It's cute," he responds, dulcet voice soft and pleasant. 

"You're cute," you grumble as you reach your arms to lazily hang around Taehyung's neck, burying your face into his chest. He wears a cologne that is earthy and a little spicy; unique.

Taehyung chuckles, chest rattling softly against your cheek, and you close your eyes and hum into the feeling. 

"I'm glad you had fun," Taehyung says as his slippered feet softly patter while he carries you down the hallway. "If you come to have any regrets or complaints later, we can all sit down and talk. I want you to feel comfortable with us; relationships are built on trust."

"I won't," you say, certain that there is nothing to regret. "I love you guys."

"We'll see how you're feeling in a few days, but it makes me happy to know that you feel good about everything now."  

The sounds of Taehyung's footfalls change, and you open your eyes to find that you are in a room with wainscotted walls of what you imagine to be mahogany, though you are not certain. Then he turns once more, and you are in a bathroom that is a lot like Yoongi's, but everything is white and gold instead of black. 

"Jeongguk has my permission to see you without my presence required. So as long as the hyungs are okay with it, the two of you can do anything you want. Personally, I don't care who sees you. Fuck on the stage at Paradise if you'd like."

"Now, now," Yoongi says, causing you to peek over Taehyung's shoulder, smiling when you see him entering the room and unbuttoning his shirt. "Let's not encourage them to fuck in public. Jeongguk might actually take it as a challenge, and we don't need rumors flying that Boss Min is a cuckold."

"For once, the rumors would be true, hyung," Jeongguk says gleefully as he sidles up to Yoongi, still fully naked and covered in sweat, slinging an arm over his shoulder.

Jeongguk winks at you, flashing a wide grin, and you bury your face against Taehyung's shoulder, feeling shy. 

"Are you getting in too, hyung?" Jeongguk asks as Taehyung begins to set you down, lowering your legs until your toes touch a soft rug.

With reluctance, you release Taehyung, and he keeps an arm around your waist, holding his other arm out for you to grab onto while you step one leg over the side of the large, white jacuzzi tub. The water is warm enough that you hiss and nearly retract your leg, but you quickly acclimate and lean in, finding the seat with your foot and standing on it. 

"Of course I'm getting in," Yoongi says, and you can hear the sounds of clothing being removed behind you. "Can't let our pretty darling have all the fun."

Taehyung sighs and mutters, "No fucking in the hot tub, hyung," making Yoongi chuckle.

It takes a lot of concentration to make your limbs cooperate, but you manage to get both feet into the jacuzzi and lower yourself enough to step into the center and wade over to the far seat. The warmth is soothing, and you sink down until only your head remains above water, watching through squinted eyes as Yoongi and Namjoon get undressed to their briefs. 

Jeongguk is turned around, rubbing his hands over Taehyung's chest, muttering lowly, and you enjoy a glance at his round, muscular ass before closing your eyes, smiling to yourself. 

The water sloshes gently as bodies enter the tub, and you do not need to open your eyes to know that the arm wrapping over your shoulder from the right belongs to Yoongi; his musk greets you, followed by the familiar weight of so many hugs. You sit up slightly and lean into Yoongi while familiar hands lift your feet onto familiar thighs and begin to massage thumbs into your tired arches. 

"I had fun spending time with everyone at Paradise, but the real paradise is here with you," you mutter somewhat sleepily, feeling Yoongi laugh against your cheek. 

"Corny," Yoongi teases with a squeeze of his arms around you, and more bodies enter the tub, shifting the water around to your left. 

You want to open your eyes and take in the bright, happy smiles of the men around you. You want to thank them all for the fun and show your gratitude for the affection they have given you. Taehyung is a wonderful host, Jeongguk is an excellent cook, and both Yoongi and Namjoon have shown a great deal of trust in you for encouraging you and Jeongguk to enjoy each other; Taehyung, as well. 

Your heart feels so full of joy, and your sore, aching body is soothed so perfectly in the warm tub. But your eyelids are heavy, and the warmth pulls you in. You hug Yoongi while the men chatter about things you are unable to keep track of, doing your best not to drift to sleep. 

At least you know that you are not at risk of drowning. With Yoongi at your side, it is impossible not to feel safe. 

Just look at me, baby, day and night Don't make me bad, make me bad, I'm addicted to you 이미 길들여진 내 맘을 자극해 Don't make me bad, bad, addicted to you 시작해 버린 이상 내 게 아님 안 돼

🎵 visit the playlist

this chapter was more or less an oasis, but the rest of the desert is to come. i cannot stress enough how shit is really about to spiral in the final arc.

thank you for reading!!! 💜💜💜 reblogs and comments make the world go ‘round, and likes are nice too!!! i love you, stay hydrated!!!

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Collateral is copyright 2022-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved.

#yoongi mafia #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #bts mafia #bts smut #bts angst #bts poly #namgi smut #namjoon mafia #jungkook mafia #taehyung mafia #fic: collateral #Spotify

[cherrysoulth]

FINALLY ALONE

💕Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

✏️Genre/au: Complicated relationships, Yandere, Mafia AU

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 5511

⚠️Warnings: Explicit smut, cumplay (sort of), murder, death threats, obsession.

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Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

This one-shot is inspired by a story that I'm writing, called: Sandman. There's another one, also inspired on Sandman, called: Staggering and Golden hour

I will post Sandman only for paid members once it's finished. (Memberships won't be available until I the story is completed)

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

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Jimin shifted over the grey satin sheets, under his velvety covers, as you scrolled through your phone and you looked at his beautiful features from your bed. The white moon in the sky sneaked inside the room through the translucent white curtains, illuminating his side, with its candour.

You could hear Seokjin at the other side of the hallway working on his computer while his father gave him some indications through the speaker mode of his smartphone. You made sure to not focus, on the dead silence that reigned in the house, but still got hints of quantities of packages entering the frontiers of South Korea through Busan, to test. Exactly what you didn't want to hear. 

Suddenly, you heard a hanger fall on your closet and you instinctively reached for the gun under your pillow. It then came to your mind, that you had put that multilayer dress in a plastic hanger because you needed to purchase new ones. You rolled your eyes to the spoiling Seokjin was doing to you, soon you would not be able to fit a needle in your closet, if he continued. You let go of the weapon and laid back from your ready position. Jimin was unbothered in his slumber and once more, you thought it just made sense that you were his guardian. 

You were asleep by the time Seokjin checked in the room and whispered a goodnight. Everything seemed fine although if he had detected the closet door cracked open,  and went to check it, he would have discovered the intruder. 

Taehyung waited for a bit after he heard Seokjin close the quarters' door to sneak out. The dress you had heard fall was left behind on its spot, to match the sound that was very likely heard from the outside. His knees silently landed at the side of your bed as he observed the same rays that previously enhanced Jimin's ethereal image, doing favours to yours. 

He would have touched you if he didn't know that was certainly going to wake you up. Instead, he just stayed there in that same position, watching you sleep for the next two hours; until slumber started to make his lids feel too heavy to keep them open. 

Just like that, he walked out of your room through the corridor, towards the other end. He opened another room and looked inside to another sleeping figure. His eyes displayed darkness, a silent death threat and his knuckles turned white over the clear wood structure. Making use of his skills he slid out of the house undetected, giving one last look to your window. 

                               . 

He lies in bed while tears stream down his temples. Just like they did as he knelt in front of your peaceful figure, your image engraved on his retina like a favourite movie. One that he will most likely never see again in broad daylight. Not while Seokjin breathed down his neck on every corner, on every shadow. 

You are the one and only thing they seem to have in common. The same obsession, the same desire. Yet it is Seokjin who chases at his heels and not the other way around. 

If he had only not scared you off in the tunnels that day. If he would have walked beside you past Seokjin as the eldest hid to smoke near the access, maybe you wouldn't have looked at him so much after. Maybe your heart wouldn't have been taken. Maybe you wouldn't have been yearning for the man's love to the point of accepting him when he had turned into someone undeserving of it. 

Maybe you would have started reading together with Jimin. Maybe he wouldn't have followed Seokjin and then The Hitman. Maybe he wouldn't have helped burn the school down. Maybe you wouldn't have set the first match that turned the place into hell for the caretakers tied inside. Maybe you wouldn't have carried the burden of four deaths with you at the age of ten. Maybe, you wouldn't have accepted the training and wouldn't have thought that was what you were meant to do. Maybe, he wouldn't have been so eager for his father to let him join. Maybe you and him wouldn't have your hands so stained with blood. 

If only he hadn't spooked you out. 

Those maybes could be certainties, and now, you would be lying at his side in his lonely room, with a ring on your finger that would prevent Seokjin from ever getting so close to you. 

The tears are followed by sobs. His wail can be heard from the outside of his room, where a guard sits on a bench against the wall and looks in his direction. Namjoon, the early bird of the house, also hears it and walks his way down the hallway to stand in front of the door. 

His brother’s broken heart dwells in his and a single tear falls from his left eye as he stands there; knowing he is unable to console the pain Taehyung is suffering. 

He doesn't knock since he will not accept a no, simply walking  inside finding his brother curled hugging himself as the torment of his soul keeps on escapes through his vocal cords and the wells of his eyes. 

"Have you gone to see her?" he asks calmly. Although a fury in him wants to slap his brother for risking his life, he is well aware that his brother is a prisoner of love and the recklessness that comes with it. 

Taehyung's only response is to sit down with pained eyes and continue his mourning by putting his forehead against Namjoon's chest. His hands hold feeble against his brother’s firm shoulders, making the hurricane he once was feel now like a breeze from a butterfly's wings. 

                               . 

"Good evening, Taehyung." says a calm voice behind him as he reads the manga book in his hand. His eyes bulge and he takes a second to start turning around, slowly in his garden chair. He leaves the closed book on the glass table in front of him. 

His brother stands next to Seokjin, the one whose voice it was impossible not to recognise. His gaze dances between Namjoon's apologetic eyes and the man who's kept him on the run for eleven months and now stands no more than six feet from him as if nothing had happened. The urge to look at you at his side, dressed in cream with transparent sleeves, it's almost unbearable but he lets himself take the full picture instead; discreetly getting your image translated to his brain. He can't dare to focus on you, not without knowing the conditions of this visit, not if it means he can lose you as a consequence. Not again. 

"Darling, why don't we go to my gallery, I have new pieces I would love to show you." Namjoon says, distracting you. 

You were indeed watching Taehyung, who has a new haircut and has finally taken the black as an option. He looks skinnier, that's what's kept your interest the few moments you have been allowed to observe and your heart blossoms with worry. You feel the need to nourish him, to take care of him, making sure he is ok. However, you know that's not a possibility right now, so you move at the second Namjoon speaks. 

Taehyung involuntarily responds to the movement and watches you walk next to his brother towards the house. Then immediately jumps back at Seokjin, who looks at him with a smirk, inclining his head in your direction and  asks, "She looks prettier by the day, doesn't she?" 

Taehyung, knows its best not to answer and keeps quiet. "Smart." mutters Seokjin before advancing. "I was thinking I maybe exceeded myself with the consequences of your actions. At the end of the day, I did invite you to our bed and maybe wasn't clear enough with what was expected." he says as he takes one of the chairs and sits down, then motions for Taehyung to join him. 

"I do not intend to share Amnon. Ever. Now, I think that much has been left clear." he says as if a death threat was no big deal and Taehyung can only nod with a very tense jaw. "What I need to know, and that is to let you walk free again, is if you can live up to that agreement?"

Taehyung doesn't respond immediately and that makes Seokjin raise a brow, "I'm not a subject of yours, I never was." he points out, acknowledging his status. "But as it is stated in the unspoken rules, no associate shall touch a partner's wife or girlfriend. I live up to those rules. Back in the day I just thought you consented to it." 

Seokjin chuckles, "-hm, yeah. I guess you do." he says calmly but then gets closer to Taehyung's face. "However, I know you have always wanted her. I'm not blind." 'Neither are the cameras in my house, little tiger.' "That, I hope, for your sake, has dropped while you were in excommunicado status. Maybe running around has kept you occupied enough—For the last ten months." 

Taehyung's jaw almost drops when he realises what the knowing look and the wrong month count means. He can only nod. Seokjin then smiles, although his eyes are the darkness that will keep Taehyung on his toes. Or so he thinks. 

                                 . 

"Sweetheart?" says Jimin as he opens the door of his two story house and your tear stained face shows in front of him. You immediately hug him and he holds you pulling you inside the house. "Is he dead?" he says, voice cracking with emotion. 

"I am." you pronounce, letting go of him, allowing your body to slide down his dark hardwood door. He squats in front of you. 

"You have broken up with him…" he says and his voice sounds just as strained as it did before. "I don't want to feel." you mutter, letting your head fall backwards and your pain exit your body in hopeless sobs. 

Next thing you know, he is dialling Jungkook asking for something to amuse you. He asks you to move the pity party to his comfortable living room. 

As you follow him in, your eyes take in the precious view of his decor. Moulded walls with tonal murals in the upper part extend throughout the hallways. While in most rooms, although maintaining the aesthetic, there are no paintings. In fact, the whole house is mostly decorated in neoclassical style with soft blues, cream and golds with really luxurious details like chandeliers that make the whole place look like a palace. The seating is simple, against the more rigidly decorated furniture, but it's comfortable, and soft to the touch. Jimin has fake fur blankets draped all around the house and is also a fan of cushions. The whole place is a dream. 

To add to it, and in contrast with the initial decoration, he has natural looking additions as if Mother nature was taking over his house; making the whole place look like it's out of a fairytale. The room you usually use, has a branch coming out of the wall, by the window seat, and purple crystal details hang from it. The rest of the room matches what is pictured in the whole house but each room is themed. 

Yours has wallpaper inside the upper panel with bits of a foggy forest in a hundred-eighty degree view. You started calling it "The Witches Room" and everyone does now. The four post bed's linen is normally grey and purple matching the crystals, and that's exactly what you expect whenever night comes today. 

                                . 

You aren't sure what Jungkook has mixed in the whiskey he served you, but you are definitely high. All of you are. 

You have taken residency over the carpet in front of  Jimin’s glass-closed fireplace and the tears fall as you roll in laughter. Truth be told, you are much higher than them but yet again they have snorted a bit, so it's just an illusion of sobriety. 

At some point, Jimin is on Jungkook’s lap and they are kissing. Their lips unite gently, soft skins moist with the liquidy nectar of their mouths and you can only watch it like you would a miracle. 'Bless this damn bisexual man.' you scream internally. 

Growing with them hasn't made you insensitive to their beauty and you used to fantasise about kissing them as a teenager. Maybe even situations like this in which the kiss would escalate between the three of you. It was all fantasy, of course. At the end of the day, the only guy you wanted to turn that into reality with, was Seokjin. 

The laugh turns into a sob and you roll to your side, silencing yourself to not disturb, looking at the flames. 

"What can we do for you, sweetheart?" mutters Jungkook when Jimin parts from the kiss and looks at you. He also moves from over him and both crawl to your side.

"Don't let-" Jungkook’s phone interrupts you and Jimin scowls at him. "I have to answer, it's him." he mutters and you roll back from looking at them to your foetal position. Jimin starts rubbing your arm affectionately as you try to disconnect. "Boss.-I-Yeah." He stands and walks outside, down the hallway. 

"He's going to tell him where I am. I have to leave." you say, standing with difficulty. 

"Amnon-" 

"I don't want to see him. I know what I want but he can sell glasses to a blind person. I fear I'll cave in this state." you explain, taking hold of your own weight against a chair. 

"You can't drive like this, let my chauffeur drive you." says Jimin, looking at one of his guards in the hallway. 

The man walks in and takes the order directly from Jimin's lips. You know they do listen to what you say but they simply have to act like they don't, out of respect. 

"He asked if she was here." says Jungkook approaching Jimin as he waves goodbye from the porch, with a cardigan over his grey silk pyjamas. Jungkook does the same and sighs,  but Jimin looks at him inquisitively. "You know how much of a bad idea it is to lie to him. Your brother does not listen to reason when it comes to her…" he replies as the car makes it to the main road off of the property. 

"I know," he mutters. "I'm glad she decided to get out of the house before he comes… that relationship has to end. It's not good for anyone." Jimin says with a really low tone, turning on the coffee machine as they enter the kitchen, putting in a capsule for Jungkook, after showing it to him. 

"One of them will end up dead if they keep it going, I'm sure of it." responds Jungkook and Jimin scowls at him. "They don't always think clearly being around each other… In this business-" 

"I- I know. That is what I'm telling you. It has to end. " Jimin mutters, looking at the hallway to the guards, as if he was of a controversial opinion. 

At the same time, you are driven to the city with no destination, like you have asked the driver. 

The lights, the people walking the streets, it feels like you are watching a movie through the windows of the car. Your head rests against the cold tinted glass as you observe them, imagining their lives; the old woman with her son, buying the last presents for their visiting family members, maybe for their in-laws, since he seems to wear a ring. The couple with matching winter clothing, with their bags full of decorations sticking out, smiling to each other make you sink down in your seat and lean back against the headrest, letting silent tears fall and how this break up took place comes to mind. 

                                 

You were decorating the house with Seokjin's assistant when it finally hit you. The feeling in your gut, that one stirring every now and then while being around Seokjin for the last couple of months finally making sense. 

You walked down the ladder, placed to reach the top of the tree to put the star, and sat over the biggest present box, looking at nothing specifically. Had it been how he treated Taehyung that afternoon, when he came to bring presents to add to the tree or that you were simply over it all? His overprotective and controlling attitude, although not forceful, had finally gotten to you. 

The simple thought of having to spend Christmas with him and his associates was making the floor move under your feet  and you felt like you were going to faint. It had to be over. Finally, with the calmness of decorating it came to you. The anger, the sorrowful feeling of being distrusted and thought unwise to make certain decisions, was finally bigger than your love for him. 

The whole argument after Taehyung had kissed your forehead and squeezed your arm the day before, was tiring beyond measure and you hadn't even fought back this time. You simply had fallen silent and stared at him blankly, and his discomforts fell silent too. 

You had left the room without a word, with a prudential time for him to speak again and before he left to take care of business, you only so briefly said goodbye to him. He had looked at you and noticed the dying feelings inside of you, but he was in a rush, couldn't stay to hunt down the truth. Bad luck. 

Just like that, you chugged down half a liquor bottle from the mini fridge between the seats and asked the driver to take you to Kim's Manor. Uncalled, without heads up, you were standing, slightly unsteady, in the main entrance without an escort, twenty minutes later. 

The housekeeper almost lost it when he saw you, his eyes bulged and he quickly moved away to help you get on a pair of slippers. Namjoon's over the top courtesy. No wonder his lovers had dreamy eyes whenever they were around; Princess treatment can feel really good. 

"I'll let the master know you are here," he said, with urgency. 

"No need, I haven't come to see Namjoon," you told him, making him gasp. 

There were only two masters in the house and it happened that being near you almost got one of them killed. Or at least, having to play hide and seek for a good while. 

"Missis, I-" he tried to speak but you could sense the internal fight between his own feelings of protecting his beloved master and the proper treatment of a family friend. 

"Do your duty but I'll show myself the way," you said as you walked in and up the right set of stairs, to Taehyung's bedroom. 

He wasn't sleeping, if you were honest, you didn't expect him to be and you wouldn't have come if you did. It was early for him. He was in bed, playing a game on his phone, wearing full silk pyjamas with a robe and soft Christmas socks. You were right of course, he raised his eyes from his phone first as the door opened, then left his phone aside when he saw you enter. You locked the door. With no particular plan, just for privacy. 

He sat criss-cross over the bed and you leaned on the door. "I have broken up with Seokjin. I was at Jimin's but he was coming over… I know I shouldn't be here," It all suddenly hits you, the consequences, how thoughtless you have been. It isn’t over, not until Seokjin said so, he was going to the house to mend things and you should have stayed to keep your ground. It wasn’t until you voiced it that you realised you had made the worst possible decision. Taehyung isn't just your childhood best friend but also Seokjin's nemesis, in his eyes. Your heart starts beating faster. 

"It's okay," Taehyung objects, paralysing all your thoughts. 

"No it's not," speaks the voice of  reason from inside you, through your vocal cords. You turn to try to unlock the door and seek Namjoon, before a misunderstanding can reach a fatal ending. 

You had forgotten how long Taehyung's legs are, until he has reached you and closed the inch-wide crack you have managed to open. "Don't leave now," he mutters. "Please," he begs, causing you to turn around in the few inches of space he has left for your body. 

"Taehyung, I-" you can’t say more. His lips are on yours, soft and gentle yet the way he breathes through his nose and how he lets his head fall on your left shoulder right after speaks love letters of contained passion. 

"I love you," he mutters, voice cracked and tears starting to dampen your clothed skin. 

The breath gets caught in your throat,  as if seeing your life pass before your eyes, every little moment of closeness you have had with Taehyung until that very moment that ruined everything, played backwards in your mind. Your heart jolted. Seokjin's fears were true. Your indulgence with Taehyung, the tenderness you felt for him, the need to care, the fact you allowed him in Seokjin's bed and were always advocating for him to be forgiven, all translated to one simple sentence, "I love you too." Not childlike love and not only friendship love, not even just that pure and genuine love of wanting the best for each other. Love that makes you grip his robe to keep his body close. You have always done that, never wanted him too far from you.

Always pulling the hugs a little bit longer, always wanting him to stay, always wanting him near. Always lingering on his beautiful features and lying to yourself with the thought that you wanted a good girl for him. Always looking away when he kissed someone else, on the pretext of giving him privacy, yet feeling a slight twinge in your chest and telling yourself it was normal. You didn't want your friend to be taken away from you. Unaware that because you never had been given reasons to be jealous with Seokjin or simply trusting him, that would have been the feeling it would awaken in his case too. Unaware that you didn't just enjoy the view of Adonis Seokjin fucking another man but that you also enjoyed the view of Taehyung being taken. That it was the view of both men thaw had you wet and touching yourself with passion, even to the memory of it. 

You quickly pulled him against you. The strange dizziness and clairvoyance of the drug mix making you feel slightly out of your mind. "Fuck me, Taehyung, I fucking love you how could I be so blind?" 

He kisses you and pulls you against his chest, "Don't blame yourself now," he mutters against your hairline. 

"Fuck me," you whisper, feeling his back and then groping his buttocks.  You move away to meet his eyes, palms against his abdomen, "I feel like I have missed a lifetime of having you inside of me," you say, landing an accepted kiss from an astonished Taehyung, hands running all over him. 

"Slow down baby, you are drunk," he says gently, grabbing your wrists and pulling away. 

"And high, but it doesn't make it less true." you say looking at him devilish and then biting your lower lip. 

"Oh wow, then I'm definitely not doing this," he says, letting go of your wrists and getting as further away from you as possible, reaching for the intercom  at his nightstand. "Wyatt, can you get a room ready for the lady please, she's unwell," you hear him say and he has to hang up at the moment he feels you kissing his manhood over the clothes. "Good lord," he groans to the ceiling, before doing the right thing and walking away again. "You have to stop," he urges, seeing you crawl in his direction and you act the brat by lying on your back with your arms crossed. Pout included.

"Tomorrow or past it, when you are sober and fresh, if you still feel like doing these exact same things, I'll surrender to your will. I will please you with any means necessary," he says, squatting next to you. 

You can only succumb to the capricious nature of the alcohol and drug. There over the floor, with its fluffiness you grumble and lie on your side, "I have just embarrassed myself, haven't I?" 

"Further from the truth," he says, "I'm happy if this is the true level of comfort you feel with me but I can’t be sure you're not uninhibited right now."

                               .

You wake up foreign to the bed you are in, panicking until you realise where you are. The room is modernly decorated and although it has a forest painted on the tall wall against the bed's headrest,  it looks nothing like Jimin's house. This one has hardwood floors and ceilings, keeping the warm aesthetic all the private areas of the house have. The top to bottom windows let in the light and the view of the gardens, but they also have blinds. The ones you forgot to draw last night. 

You turn on your other side with no use, because you are already too awake. The sound of the toilet being flushed startles you to look in that direction and Taehyung slides the door to the ensuite open a few seconds later, shirtless. "Sorry," his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Have I woken you?" 

"No-no, the sun did," you mutter confused, unable to remember last night, nor even how you ended up sleeping here. You wear nothing but a jumper and your panties, and apprehension takes over. If you have slept with him, you would like to remember it. You feel tension at the pit of your stomach, an awful dread of having experienced him but being unable to recover the events or what you felt, what it felt like. Your eyes redden with unfallen tears and your cracked voice says aloud, "Have we-?" 

"Oh nononono-" Taehyung waves his hands in front of his body, distracting you from the thought. "I had a bit of a time to make you understand you were too intoxicated, but I helped you get to sleep. Nothing more than that." It's in that last sentence that his tone betrays him. You have always known when he lies. It's as if you knew every chord of his melody and were able to spot a single tone moved in it. 

"Taehyung-" 

"I killed Seokjin." he says with a monotone, as if not accepting it has happened. Your eyes bulge and you feel your heart slow down, a tear falling from your left eye but unable to process the whole meaning of it; in a sudden void. You can’t find words to express anything because your mind goes blank, yet your mouth opens slightly as if you want to say something. 

"It was an accident." he finally speaks again in what has felt like time stopping, making you gasp as you snap out of your stupor. "That's why we are here. That's why we are not in my room. There was blood on the rug. On the bed too. Yes, also on the floor." the way his voice stays to a monotone while he looks to a spot on the floor, as he speaks, tells you he is in shock. "The service was cleaning it a few hours ago. I just-" he then looks at you. "I didn't dare to enter." He then seems to realise, "That's not important. I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to kill him, he came at me with a gun, I had the shower on, he thought you were in it-That we had sex, then-then everything went so fast. I didn't even have time to think! I just reacted-Like we were trained-I didn't think! How could I not think!?" he frantically explains, starting to pull his hair forcefully in distress. 

You rush out of the bed, making sure to move his hands away to restrain him from damaging his scalp. "Taehyung, stop." you whisper, taking him in your arms. "It was self-defence… you just knew how to save yourself better. But, you were just surviving, nothing else." you shush him, although you are only pushing away whatever comes with his revelation, numb to the feeling. Not truly calm. Not fit for advice. 

Once again, lust answers at the nonsense and you kiss on his neck. "Amnon-" he whispers with a husk in his voice. 

"Please…" you whisper against his skin. 

He succumbs this time, grabbing your ass as you work with your mouth on his pulsepoint. He doesn't stop you, when your mouth slides down his torso and his breath falters beautifully at your advances.  This time he doesn’t know what to do with his hands when you kiss him over his trousers. He was half hard already but the gesture, when you don't move your lips away, makes you feel him grow to his full mast. 

His hands grip  your shoulders, pulling up and you oblige to stand, eyes trailing your features and the lines of your body as you do. They stop at your core for a second and his head falls backwards as he grunts. 

When he looks at you again his eyes are full of lust, "Are you sure about this?" he takes the caution not to mention Seokjin again, the one thing that can be an obstacle, for its obviousness. 

You respond physically first, sitting on the bed and letting your upper body fall, the jumper exposing a bit of tummy with the stretched movement. 

When he moves, he does slow but when his hands touch you everything seems to take a hurricanes pace. He kisses, he bites, your lips, your neck, your chest, your abdomen, your thighs, until you are a flooded pool of desire, vibrating with need for him. Although, it is when his mouth and tongue take possession of your nub that you feel like you are meant to be like this. When you cum, you feel like you are floating in the sky. 

The nakedness of his member makes you surround him with your legs, and you can already tell he is just as eager to be inside of you as you want him. It slides strongly against your walls as you press your chest against his, hugging him with your whole body as he enters you. 

There's no closeness enough now that he is with you like this. You feel like you want to fuse  with him, get inside of his body, in a different way that he is in yours, feel his blood flow in your veins. The next need is so over the top, the way you visualise your bodies melting together that you wonder if the drugs are still playing part in the experience. 

Breathing fast under his body with his abdomen against yours, you feel your ecstasy flow through your body like burning magma of joy. "Taehyuuung!" you scream as your hands reach to the bed to grab on the sheets underneath. He chuckles but doesn't stop moving, frenetic with sensations. Then he feels it  rushing, almost unexpected and pulls out spilling over your belly as he keeps stroking with his hand. You giggle, out of your mind. 

"Look at your pretty cum…" you mutter, touching the splurts that have reached your ribs, extending it. You do think what you said, it's white and has spilled in drops like painting, except for the accumulation in your belly button. "You had a lot in you, didn't you?" you ask, meeting his eyes. 

He looks astonished but pleased with his lips parted. "I'm sorry." he says and rushes to the bathroom with large steps, coming out with wet wipes to clean you. So careful, so sweet, you close your eyes and let him do it, even when he cleans on your slit, where a first spill had left dripping remnants. 

"You didn't need to apologise," you say as he throws the last wipe on the bin next to that side's nightstand. "I love you," You say, as he looks you in the eyes. "your seed too."

"I love you too…" he lets out a breath, walking to meet you on the bed, hugging you abruptly. "I would do anything for you. Anything…" he says in the same tone against your head. 

                                   .

You don't remember falling asleep but in your slumber, not wanting to wake up, you feel Taehyung's breath at the side of your face that doesn't touch the pillow you lie on. He is caressing your shoulder, sliding down through your arm and coming back, slowly, again and again. You almost smile and turn to hug him but you hear him whisper, "We are finally alone," in a way that makes your skin crawl. 

Then you remember, Seokjin didn’t come armed. 

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

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

Work beta read by @pars-ley and @abitjess 💜

© 2021-2022 Cherry Soulth, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

#bts smut #bts au fic #bts angst #taehyung x reader #taehyung x oc #taehyung x you #taehyung au #taehyung angst #Taehyung mafia #Seokjin mafia #taehyung smut

[alpacaparkaseok]

How to Steal Moonlight |1|

Chapter 1. The Heist

→ Pairing: mafia!BTS x reader (not poly)

→ word count: 6.2k

→ warnings/tags: SFW, we stealin stuff, general sassery, Hoseok alludes to crimes committed in France because he's extra, paranoia, general love for life

→ a/n: HI I HOPE YOU DIDN'T FORGET ABOUT ME. We're here! We've made it! Chapter 1! I feel like there's so many things that I would've like to have included, but also, nothing's ever perfect. There's so so so much to come from this series, and I hope you enjoy experiencing it with me. as always, thank you! and pls come tell me what you're thinking, it gives me life. happy reading!

The world is set in tones of gray. It makes for a gentle greeting as you walk out into the cold morning. Taking a seat, you watch the mist slowly approach the deck like a wary child. If you close your eyes, you can almost picture the ocean, peaceful and calm. It’s almost perfect.

            An apple crunches between someone’s teeth, obnoxious and loud.

            “Good morning, Victoria.”

The blonde doesn’t look at you, sitting just to her right. Instead, her mouth moves robotically as she chews the apple, eyes trained on something just beyond the mist.

            “I was under the impression that you were asleep.” Her voice feigns innocence, yet you know better. After all, it’s been you that’s been up at all hours of the night, listening to the distinct sound of an apple snapping under the force of her teeth. You’re at your wit’s end – so much so that even the sight of an apple flips a switch inside of you, making your blood pressure skyrocket.

            Even in the dim light of the pre-dawn world, the bags under Victoria’s eyes pop. Her hair lies across her shoulder with a dull, greasy sheen that only days on end without a shower can bring.

            “No. I wasn’t.” You stare with unbridled rage as she lifts the apple back to her mouth, opening wide for another bite. Acting on pure impulse, your hand shoots out, slapping it out of her hand with unnecessary force. The apple thumps to the ground and rolls, the force of your slap sending it careening off the deck and disappearing into the forest below. Victoria stares at where it fell with an absent frown on her face.

            You force a breath in only to find your lungs charged up with a swallowed scream. It’s the same one you’ve been repressing for a week now – a week filled with monitors that beep incessantly and quiet, whispered voices that cease when you walk into a room.

            “You know,” you begin, and you’re startled to hear the quake in your whisper, “someone that sits up all night eating god-forsaken apples and playing watchdog screams guilty conscience.”

            Victoria doesn’t bother looking at you – you’re unsure if she’s glanced your way since that fateful day that you let her walk free. Even when you found her here, sitting on the deck of your suite as if there was nowhere else she was supposed to be, she hardly looked at you.

            “An apple a day keeps the devil away.”

            “Doctor,” you hiss. “It keeps the doctor away.”

            A ghost of a smile flickers across her pale face as she reaches into her pocket, producing a bright green apple. “Sure.”

            Then she takes a bite.

--

            The small town of Julien looks like it could be out of a Hallmark film. Especially tonight, with the full moon and stars in full splendor. You remark as much to Seokjin, who stands beside you in the tree line.

            “Yeah, it does,” he says, voice muffled as he hides his mouth behind a chunky red scarf. “Do Hallmark movies end up like this, then?”

            He must be referring to the gallon of gasoline he’s holding up. The red container matches his scarf alarmingly well, which makes you wonder if he chose the color on purpose.

            You frown, thinking. “Well…most winter ones have some sort of fire, I guess. You know, sitting next to the fireplace, roasting chestnuts. It’s supposed to be romantic.”

            “This is basically the same thing, then.”

            “Really romantic.”

            “Isn’t it?” Seokjin’s head tilts to the same side a smile pulls on his lips, eye reflecting the lights of the village only 100 yards away. For a moment you see something deeper, a doorway to a memory over a year ago now, of the first night you met. The snow seeping into your boots could be the ash of a burned building that Seokjin stood in the center of as if it were his throne.

            Ducking his head so that his nose edges your cheekbone, he breathes out a laugh as you take a shaky breath. It’s always the same; some dark corner or secluded spot finds you going up in flames with your hired arsonist. Only this time, it’s not in your head. His deft fingers tug you closer, steadying you as you tramp over snow only to find yourself suddenly pressed up against the trunk of a tree.

            “Jin-” you half scold, half plead. His dark eyes rove your face, jaw clenched.

            “You’ll be safe in there?” You nod, but he shakes his head. “Say it.”

            “Y-yes,” you breathe out. You’ve hardly looked at him for weeks and suddenly he’s here, inches from you. It’s a flood of emotions you’ve yet to examine, staring you in the eyes.  

            “The plan. Repeat it.”

            You blink, craning your neck even as he hunches over, head hanging. His eyes remain closed, breath crystalizing in the cold air.

            “Are you…” you say, a laugh bubbling up in your chest that you tamp down. “Are you worried right now?”

            He hesitates before speaking, but when he does his voice is a rough strain against the night air. “I’m not…used to working with a conflict of interest.” Straightening, he turns to retrieve the gasoline he left abandoned in the snow moments before.

            “I’m your boss. Not a conflict of interest.”

            “You’re you. That’s enough of an issue, as far as I’m concerned.”

            Grinning, you step forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He smiles, eyes glimmering. “And the plan is simple enough. Ten minutes, tops. Grab any valuables within reaching distance. Jimin’s on the other side of the street waiting for us. They’ve been drinking pretty heavily for…” you check your watch, frowning. “A couple of hours, at least? You’ll run the distraction outside. Deal?”

            “So what, I’m nothing more than the thing that goes boom in this situation?”

            You shake your head. “I’m the muscle.”

            “What’s that make me?”

            “The pretty face.”

            Seokjin’s laugh is quiet as he leans down, close enough to touch. Yet neither of you dare to move, the same force holding you apart now as it has since the aftermath of Taehyung’s betrayal first began. Something flickers in his eyes, something you haven’t found a name for just yet.

            “Jin…” you whisper, almost afraid of the way it sounds like a plea. His eyes spark, dipping down to your mouth where his name sits on your lips. You haven’t spoken about what transpired between you two on the day of Yadiel’s death, but the ghost of it passes through you every time he looks at you. The feel of his lips against yours, the way he saw into your soul as you bore your heart to him amidst smoke and ruin.

            Eyes slipping shut, Seokjin looks almost innocent as he forces himself to relax. To refrain. You bristle, watching the walls snap up again.

            “Why do you do that?” You breathe out. He takes a step back, squaring his shoulders. Slipping the mask of the arsonist back into place.

            “Because one of us has to be able to function,” he quietly teases, even though every word sounding like a confession. Another step away from you, eyes turning to face the cabin. “Because we’re doing a job.”

--

            As much as Seokjin joked about his alarmingly good looks, you knew he’d rather stay in the shadows. He did so surprisingly well, reminding you of Hoseok’s uncanny ability to do so. Perhaps he’d learned more from the hitman than you realized.

            He went first, leaving you with a prolonged look that resulted in a hurried kiss atop your head before disappearing between the trees. Your heart rate picked up with each step he took, anxiety chipping away at your already frayed edges.

            Julien was a town you would’ve never visited if it weren’t for Jungkook. Placed into intensive care immediately following a gunshot wound to the chest that resulted in a collapsed lung, you went north of Queen’s Wharf to the small mountain village of Julien which had a renowned private hospital at its disposal. Since arriving three weeks ago, Jungkook had been placed into a medical induced coma while undergoing procedures to reconstruct his lung and ribcage.

            And now, you arrived at the heart of your problem.

            You were broke.

            “In position.” Jimin’s voice crackles to life in your ear. “Awaiting your signal.”

            It isn’t long before Jin responds, quiet voice skittering between your shoulder blades, making you shiver involuntarily. “Did she tell you I was just eye candy tonight?”

            “Oh, Seokjin.” Jimin sounds like he’s speaking to a kindergartener. “What did you think you were getting paid for?”

            Rolling your eyes, you begin to move out. The cabin up ahead is wreathed in light, looking like it was plucked out of the North Pole. You half expect to run into Rudolph on your long trek up, but all is silent around you.

            Save for the incessant chatter in your ear.

            “I knew you only wanted me for my body.”

            “Who? Me?” Jimin’s having too much fun sitting in the warmth of his car across the street.

            “What’s your position, Seokjin?”You grit the words out, ignoring their banter. “I’m approaching from the east side.”

            A pause, and then Seokjin’s answer. “I’m inside the shed.”

            “Nobody can see your face inside the shed, Seokjin,” Jimin chides with a note of laughter. You snort before you can catch yourself, feeling the tightness in your shoulders easing for the first time in weeks. “Kinda misses the point, doesn’t it?”

            “Shhh, I’m working,” Seokjin whispers back.

            Finally, the chatter stops. You’re close enough now that the shadows in the windows are clear, showing a few partygoers and caterers standing near the walls. The rest should be nearer the center of the house, right where the action is. The elite of New England crawling out of the colonial mansions to hide their satin dresses and Rolexes beneath down coats and skis that cost more than Jungkook’s hospital bills.

            Tonight, you’re one of them.

            “Ascending the stairs.”

            Abandoning the old knee-length coat in the snow to reveal a full-length emerald slip, you eye the wine glass someone left behind on the back deck. It’s easy to summon the rest, setting aside the questions nagging at you in the back of your mind and stumbling up the stairs toward the cabin.

            “Woah there,” a short man in a blue suit stands at the top of the deck, staring down at you with his mouth wide open. “What’re you doing out here? You’re going to catch hypothermia out there!”

            Fixing your paper-thin sleeve so that it stays on your shoulder, you laugh a little too loudly. “Trust me, we were plenty hot out there.” You hand him your glass, running a hand through your hair. “Have you seen my husband?”

            His eyes grew impossibly wider as his mouth opened and closed like a fish. “I- your husband? But who…” understanding dawns on his face as he flushes a deep red. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

            “Are you trying to make the news?”

            The voice that comes from the French doors is soft and almost as cold as the snow clinging to your ankles. Pulling your features into the picture of serenity, you turn to face the man standing in the entryway with a look that could kill you where you stand.

            “She does this, you know.” Hoseok strides forward, taking your arm in a firm grip. He hardly spares you a glance, instead focusing his attention on the poor man who has taken to staring down at the two wine glasses in his hands. “Last year we went on this amazing hiking trip in France only for her to wander off with our guide. You know what happened?”

            “Uh, no…”

            “What’s your name?”

            The man blinks, breath coming out in quick little spurts that make it look like he’s breathing out smoke in the frigid air. “Er, Roger. Sir.”

            Hoseok claps his hand on Roger’s shoulder, forcing out a dry laugh. “Well, Roger, let me tell you what happened. Our guide got lost. They thought they’d take a little midnight swim, but he forgot which way to find the lake. You see, the cliffs were to the west, which was right where he was heading. I suspect he realized his mistake on his trip down.”

            Roger’s face couldn’t get any more comical, but alas, his gasp shook the cabin itself. You squeeze Hoseok’s arm, but he shrugs it off.

            “Cut to the investigation, the DNA evidence, the strangely broken compass…” Hoseok spared you a look of pure disgust. “Well, you can piece it together.”

            “You…” Roger points a feeble finger your way, but Hoseok cuts him off.

            “Exactly. She loves making the news. Always wants to have a hand in the next great tragedy. Awful, isn’t it?”

            Leaning against him, you push out your lips in a pout. “I thought you liked that about me."

            Hoseok laughs, Roger’s mouth twisting into a half laugh as he stares on in confused horror. “Anyway, Renfield-”

            “It’s, er, Roger.”

            “Right. Roger. Would you mind keeping a lookout back here in case there’s any sign of the poor man she’s lured away tonight? I’ve got to get her home.”

            Roger could only nod, watching on as Hoseok practically dragged you inside. You nearly tripped over the entryway, bumping into him.

            Few people looked your way as you entered. You kept your focus on Hoseok as he guided you into the center of the house, to a large living area decked with live pine trees that almost touched the fifteen foot ceiling.

            Mistletoe hung from various stations, including a spot over the fireplace where a woman was straddling a man twice her age, her lips pressed to his.

            “We’re in, with a watchman on the deck,” Hoseok says conversationally. “At your leisure, Seokjin.”

            “Timer is set, you’ve got ten minutes. See you on the other side.”

            Squeezing Hoseok’s arm, you relinquish your hold on him at the same time he moves away from you. “Be honest, you enjoyed that way too much out there.”

            Hoseok beams, a laugh working past his lips. “I’m almost lost it at the end. Poor Renfield.”

            “Roger.”

            He shrugs. “Whatever.” Slipping off his suit jacket and placing it around your shoulders, he winks conspiratorially. Then he turns, disappearing into the swarm. You watch him go until he’s nothing more than a head bobbing in the crowd.

            You know what you need to do. It’d be hard not to when you’re practically drowning in wealth out here on the dance floor.

            First, you approach center of the floor where it’s only writhing bodies and the strong stench of alcohol. Here, nobody will notice hands brushing up against their bodies. They won’t notice their wrists feeling a little lighter, either.

            A gold bracelet embedded with diamonds slips off an older woman’s wrist. A young man’s Rolex is next, followed by two wallets. You turn and flash a smile at a man close to his forties who sidles up close to you. Grinning slyly, you slip around to his back, hands finding his shoulders before scratching the fabric of his shirt as your fingers slide down to around his biceps.

            “Does the jacket mean you’re taken?” He shouts above the music, eyes sparking with curiosity. You laugh sharply, squeezing his arm at the same time your other hand slips to his back pocket.

            “Probably in the same way that ring says the same for you.”

            He glances down at the wedding ring on his finger, shrugging dismissively. “Semantics.” Turning to face you head on, he frowns as he finds nobody there.

            No doubt that frown will deepen later when he realizes his wallet has mysteriously disappeared as well. Hiding in plain sight as you dance a few yards away with the suit jacket folded in your arms, you wonder if he’ll remember you when he thinks of his missing wallet. Perhaps he’ll be smart enough to put two and two together.

            Judging from the way he wastes no effort looking for you and moves on to a young brunette almost immediately, you seriously doubt he will.

            “Two minutes.”

            The sound of Seokjin’s warning triggers something deep inside you, and suddenly you’re imagining him standing before you, on the dance floor.

            It’d be empty save for the mistletoe and the fire crackling in the fireplace. He’d stand there in a suit, grinning at you as you trod on his feet. Perhaps he’d lean in close, lips brushing against your ear as he quietly sang along to the music. Then you’d turn in his arms, leaning back against him as his nose edged along the column of your throat-

            “Fire! There’s a fire!”

            You jump, jewelry clinking in the pockets of Hoseok’s suit coat. Heart in your throat, you swivel until you find the hitman, who stands on the second-floor landing where he’d been keeping an eye out for you while you performed your little heist. He nods and you move, making small circles around the room so as to not draw attention to yourself. A frenzy has taken up inside the cabin as the owner catches wind of the situation.

            “What’s going on out here?” Ulson Love demands, practically shoving Hoseok out of the way as he makes his way toward the back deck. The shed blazes in the distance, sending Ulson to leap off of the deck itself. The snow acts as some sort of cushion for the fall, but you still can’t help but peek out and enjoy the sight of Ulson struggling to gain his footing. Covered head to toe in snow, Ulson looks far from the dignified owner of one of the biggest pharmaceuticals in the nation.

            “He jumped!” Someone screams, while another holds their loved one close as if shielding them from a murder crime scene.

            “My jet-skis are in there!” Comes another voice, this one from Ulson’s oldest son, Frederick. “Dad! My jet-skis!”

            Barely managing to stifle a laugh, you abandon the crowd and head toward Hoseok. He chats with a handful of the other guests, feigning concern as well as he played the careless husband earlier.

            “Oh, there you are,” he says by way of greeting. You extend his suit coat out to him with a meaningful look. “Ready to head out? I daresay this party’s winding down.”

            The others chuckle knowingly, one in particular eying the way your slip clings to your thighs. Tilting your head so you make eye contact with him, you offer him a high-class sneer.

            “I thought New England was supposed to have some class.”

            Hoseok laughs, hand lighting on your shoulder and guiding you back down the stairs. “I’d forgotten – you’ve never come before.” Matching your disgusted expression bit for bit, he glances back at the others. “Rookie mistake.”

            Together you walk out the front door, which is already swarming with guests. Some make for their cars, where valets are rushing to get their jobs done. Most stand idly by, phones out as they vlog their wild experience in the otherwise quiet ski town.

            Across the street, Jimin flashes his lights. Waving at a group of influencers you’ve never seen before; you follow Hoseok to the car.

“Know them?” He asks.

“No.”

Hoseok snorts, shaking his head as you two near the Mercedes. Together, you slide into the back seat.

            “Have fun?” Jimin asks from the driver’s seat. Seokjin sits beside him, eyes on the rear-view mirror. You meet his gaze, flushing as you recall how lost you’d become daydreaming about him in there.

            “The best time.”

            “And,” Hoseok shakes the pockets of his suit jacket, listening to the sound of jewelry tinkling inside. “We stole stuff.”

            The car ride to the other end of town is lively, everyone feeling good for the first time since Jungkook got hit. Banter flows easily between Hoseok and Jimin, and you note that the two of them seem to have sprouted a friendship when you weren’t looking. Gone is the typical venom fueling their jabs.

            “We should be getting close…” Jimin says, eying the GPS. He slows to a stop as the road goes from pavement to dirt, groaning.

            “What?”

            He gestures around him, mouth open. “This is a dirt road! Yoongi never said anything about off-roading.”

            “I’d hardly call this off-roading,” Hoseok says, crossing his arms. “Although, look. Fresh snow.”

            Rolling down the window, you look outside to see the dirt road covered in freshly-fallen snow. Cursing, you duck back in. “Crap. I was really hoping to not leave tracks tonight.”

            “The Mercedes isn’t going down there,” Jimin says defiantly. “It’s divine intervention, the snow. We can’t leave tracks.”

            “You just don’t want to get mud on the tires,” Seokjin points out. He turns around in his seat, facing you. “Thoughts?”

            “How far away is the drop zone?”

            Consulting his phone, Seokjin’s brows crease in concentration. “Less than a mile.”

            “Great. Jimin? Pop the trunk.”

            “Huh?” You open the door, already halfway out of it. “Oh, alright. Cool. Let me just grab that for you.”

            You pull it open, already starting to plan ahead. It’ll take a while in this weather, especially if the snow worsens. But a job is a job, no matter the weather, right? All you’ll need are some thick socks-

            “Hey.”

            Seokjin appears, gazing down into the trunk. You stare up at him, wondering if you’re senses have really dulled that much over the past few weeks. He might as well have appeared out of thin air with how distracted you were.

            Instinctively you glance over your shoulder for any further surprises, but the only thing approaching on the street behind you is the falling snow.

            “This looks promising.” He’s pointing to the snowshoes taking up most of the trunk with a grimace that might be a twisted smile. “More difficult to track, doesn’t present a particularly unique footprint.”

            “Exactly.” You nudge his side, grinning up at him. “You read my mind.”

            He looks inclined to lean down a little closer but stops himself. “We’ll have to move quick, I’m sure this place will be crawling with the guests soon. Maybe the police if they sense foul play, which rich people almost always do.”

            “I wonder why.”

            Grabbing the bag you’d had the foresight to pack in case of an emergency, you quickly change into warmer clothes but find yourself with one dilemma.

            “Jimin?”

            You lean down to eye-level beside his door. It allows you a perfect view for when he shrivels up in anticipation for what you’re about to say. He sweeps his hair back – black now, instead of the blond you’d become so familiar with. It suits him, you think. Gives his glare an edge that it didn’t have before.

            “What do you want from me.”

--

            Jimin complains loudly as Seokjin backs the Mercedes up, placing the tire tracks over your footprints on the road. “This feels wrong. Awful.”

            “You’re not the one wearing the sweaty socks!” You call out. “It’s not natural, Hoseok. Nobody should be able to exude this much sweat in such a short amount-”

            The car tires squeal in their attempt to speed away, drowning out the rest of your words as well as Seokjin’s barking laugh. Hoseok waves a hang out the window as they leave, returning to the lodge where Namjoon and Yoongi await.

            Where Namjoon stands guard to Victoria, although the two of them haven’t so much as looked at each other since her sudden arrival.

            Jimin offers his arm to you, red scarf vivid against the backdrop of the village lights. “Shall we?”

            Holding up the bag – a grocery sack, no less – you accept his arm. “Let’s get this over with. I’m already freezing.”

            Together you set out, avoiding the dirt road entirely in favor of the woods. Sticking to the edge of the trees, you keep a wary eye out for any sign of movement among the shadows. Jimin remains just as cautious beside you, his breathing steady.

            The stars watch on, unmoving as you trek along. Occasionally you pass a sign for the abandoned mine; the historical site that originally put the small town on the map. Tonight it acts as your drop zone.

            Jimin keeps his eyes ahead, looking determined. He knows just as well as you do that the money tonight’s loot will bring in will prove not only to cushion your threadbare wallets, but it’ll prove something to you.

            “Operation went smoothly,” he remarks. The snow crunches with every step, the sound comforting.

            “It did.”

            He’s humming softly to himself, stepping along jauntily. It’s enough to bring a smile to your face, even as your mind drifts back to the lodge where the others await.

            “Interesting choice, having Hoseok in the cabin with you.”

            Your brows furrow, catching wind of his up-to-no-good tone. “What do you mean?”

            Jimin shrugs, seemingly taking great pleasure in having the upper hand for a moment. “Well, he played the role of your husband. A little interesting, considering the fact that your lover was just outside.”

            “I – what-”

            “Don’t worry,” Jimin laughs, waving off your dumbfounded expression. You’d thought you kept your preference for a certain arsonist under control the past few weeks, but apparently you weren’t nearly as stealthy as you’d imagined. “Your secret’s safe with me. Until it’s convenient for me to use as leverage and so on…”

            “How did you know?” You flush, heart stopping. “Our mics weren’t on earlier!” Balling your hands up into fists, you bite down on your knuckles. “Were they?”

            Gasping, Jimin smacks your hands down away from your mouth. “No! What were you two doing back there? In the great outdoors no less-”

            “Nothing! Just…talking.”

            “Well I’d like to talk more often, if that’s how it goes.”

            “Jimin.”

            He ignores your stern tone with another laugh. “Oh, relax. I saw him heading up to your room the other night, that’s all. Didn’t take much to piece it all together.”

            You blink, trying to recall what he’s talking about. Just as your about to deny the claim, you gasp. “Wait, really? Like three, four nights ago?”

            Jimin eyes you suspiciously. “Yeah, something like that. Are you telling me you don’t remember?”

            “No! It’s just…” You recall how lost you’d been that night, trying to convince yourself that it’d be fine if you left everyone behind to go find Taehyung. At that point, you didn’t care about slow, painful ways to make him regret what he’d done. A slipped knife in an alleyway would do well enough.

            Just as you began to devise a plan to get past Victoria, who never slept during the night, a knock had sounded at your door. Seokjin appeared, padding soundless across the floor before coming to a stop beside your bed.

            “Are you…” Seokjin swallowed, crouching down to meet your wide-eyed gaze. “Are you alright?”

            You must have managed some sort of affirmative response, because he nodded to himself, relief written across his features. He was shaking, you think. He looked pale, almost green in the moonlight.

            “Seokjin?” You croaked, feeling as if you were spinning. Half of your mind was gone, tracking down a traitor while the other half was there in your room, watching Seokjin with eyes wide enough that you thought you could catch every detail of his face as he watched you. “Did something happen?”

            He shook his head then. “No. No, nothing happened. It was all in my head.” He leaned forward, his hair tickling your jaw as he brushed a slow kiss against your shoulder. “Go to sleep.”

            A snowflake lands on your eyelash, blurring your vision. Blinking it away, you find Jimin looking at you with confusion written in his eyes. “I thought that was a dream.”

            Quiet and then – “That good, huh?”

            “Jimin!”

--

            A single lamp hangs from the boarded up entrance of the abandoned mine. It casts an eerie glow on the ground, bringing you to a stop long before you can reach the circle of light. Jimin approaches it, hanging the bag on the lamp before retreating back to the cover of the trees.

            “Do we leave, or…?”

            “How many times have you done something like this?” You whisper, looking at him incredulously. Jimin raises a defensive hand.

            “Hey, I’m always the guy in the car, ok? Don’t ask me how the nitty gritty gets done.”

            Rolling your eyes, you settle down to wait. Jimin huddles beside you, checking his watch. Only ten minutes to midnight; the appointed pick-up time.

            “You know the guy?” Jimin asks.

            “No. Yoongi does, though. It’s his contact.”

            “And you trust Yoongi.”

            A loaded question. Do you trust anyone right now? “I trust his desperation. That’s all I need.”

            Jimin fixes you with a questioning look, but you ignore it, scanning the area instead. Most of the group knew very little about your deal with Russo – the one in which you signed Yoongi back to him. It was easy then, to promise Russo that if he’d help you take down Yadiel he could have his favorite pawn back. Of course, you hadn’t known then that Russo was in with Taehyung all along. It was a sure win for him.

            Now, he was out for blood. Your blood, specifically. With the Father, the head of the Genovese family, and the Kim’s at his side, it was only a matter of time before he found your little family and tore it apart.

            So, you needed assets. You needed connections.

            Money. What you really need is money.

            Yoongi understood that and more, of course. So tonight, you trust his desperation to remain free of the Father’s control.

            You just hope that extends to his client as well.

            The minutes tick by painfully slow, and you’re fighting to keep your teeth from chattering when Jimin nudges you, pointing toward a slowly approaching figure.

            Clothed in all white, they move cautiously but with an air of self-importance that you’ve seen before.

            Teeth bared, you’ve nearly clambered to your feet before Jimin has a hold of you. “Sit down,” he hisses, yanking you back. The white-clad figure looks your way, but can’t see past the trees to your exact location. Rushing forward, they grab the bag and check the contents.

            “I’ll have my jeweler inspect these,” they announce loudly, and only then do you stop fighting against Jimin’s iron grip. “We’ll be in touch shortly. Send Min my regards.”

            Only once they’ve disappeared through the other side of the woods does Jimin release you, glaring. “What was that all about? You nearly ruined that for us!”

            Rubbing your face angrily, you shake your head. “It was nothing.”

            “Nothing?”

            “Yeah.”

            His laugh is hard as ice. “Really? Because that didn’t look like nothing. The poor guy probably thought he was about to get jumped-”

            “I thought it was Tae-” the name gets caught like a ribbon on a fence, tearing itself in two. “Taehyung.” Jimin goes still, his mouth slackening. “He looked like Taehyung.”

            Already you’re walking, not wanting to hear the scoff bound to leave his lips. Poor little capa, she’s lost her mind. She’s seeing things, up in the night.

            Snow crunches as Jimin struggles to catch up, nearly falling on his face in the process. “And you were going to do what? If it was Taehyung.”

            You shake your head, mind spinning. For some reason the memory of Taehyung’s first meeting with Namjoon crops up on your head. The way he threatened Namjoon with his life when he displayed a single ounce of disrespect towards you.

            The way you dived in headfirst to his kiss that night after the gala. He needed me. He said he needed me, then.

            “I would’ve killed him.”

            Jimin doesn’t respond. He turns on his mic instead. “We’re on our way back from the drop zone.”

            Yoongi is the one who responds, clearly having tuned in for sake of being nothing other than nosy. “I’ll meet you on the road, then.”

            With that out of the way, you traverse most of the way back to the road in silence. Jimin no longer hums to himself as you walk, preferring to keep a furrowed brow as he thinks. You almost want to yell at him to spit it out already, but instead you take to reciting your grocery list in your head instead.

            Two gallons of milk.

            Gauze.

            Peanut butter.

            Pain meds.

            Eggs.

            Ammunition.

            The snow has stopped falling by the time Jimin finally says what’s on his mind.

            “I would’ve helped you, if it was him.”

            You blink away the list in your mind. “You would’ve?”

            Up ahead, a car pulls to a stop just before the dirt road. Yoongi. “Of course.” Jimin pauses, grabbing your shoulder and squeezing it tightly. “He’s a Kim. He deserves it by default.”

            Snorting, you approach the car. Yoongi rolls down the passenger side window, waving you over. “How’d it go?” He calls out.

            Climbing inside and ignoring Jimin’s pointed sigh as he takes the back seat, you hold your snow shoes to your chest. Yoongi looks expectant, almost hopeful.

            “Good, I think. We’ll hear from them soon. Once their jeweler figures it out.”

            Yoongi nods, pulling away. “That’s the best we can hope for, I guess.” He watches you out of the corner of his eye as you fiddle with the heater.

            “How’re things back at the lodge?”

            He’s quiet for a long moment, making your heart pick up speed. “Well….nothing if not eventful.”

            You meet Jimin’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            Yoongi taps the steering wheel to some beat in his head. “Jungkook’s awake.”

--

            The lodge is a private care center. It houses families or other large groups, anonymously, why their loved ones are being cared for. Top doctors are paid very well to look after their patients.

            You hate the lodge.

            Hate the smell, the way it seeps into every surface and fabric within a mile radius. You hate the way you’re forced to smile and be polite while speaking with nurses day in and day out, listening for anything different.

            “No, Ms. Bianchi, there’s been no change.”

            “He’s strong, encourage him to keep fighting, Ms. Bianchi.”

            “He’s lucky to be alive, Ms. Bianchi.”

            He’s lucky. A miracle. A sign of divine help.

            “What do you mean, he’s awake?” Your voice sounds like it’s a thousand miles away as you stare at Yoongi, dumbfounded.

            He shrugs. “Woke up a couple of hours ago. I think Namjoon finally pestered him into waking up, to be honest.”

            Namjoon had taken to spending a significant amount of time in Jungkook’s room. He said it was because the kid had grown on him.

            You suspected it also had something to do with the fact that a certain ex-girlfriend of his was walking the halls.

            “He’s doing ok?”

            “Sounds like it. You’ll have to talk to the doctor.”

            The rest of the drive feels like it takes an eternity, but before you know it you’re pulling in to the large cabin. Yoongi’s hardly put the car into park before you’re leaping out of it, running up the steps to the front entrance. Seokjin’s there, opening it wide for you.

            “Yoongi told you?” He falls into step, keeping pace with your half-run.

            “As soon as we got into the car. He’s alright?”

            “Seems to be. He was asking for you.”

            A mixture of dread and hope form a deadly cocktail in your stomach, sending you into a full run down the hallways. Along the way you pass Hoseok and Namjoon, both of whom cheer wildly as you pass. Already the air feels alive, the world more complete because Jungkook is back in it.

            When you reach the hallway of Jungkook’s room, you don’t see anyone. The nurses must have just left, giving Jungkook his space. Seokjin hangs back, urging you forward.

            “Go on. You’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

            He doesn’t hang around long enough for you to say what’s on your mind. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath.

            The inside of Jungkook’s room is clean. Several machines stand beside the bed, the familiar sound of his heartbeat welcoming you inside. And a man, laying in the bed with his gazed turned toward the window and the snow-covered forest below.

            “Jungkook.”

            Somehow, impossibly, he hears you. His eyes are on you, a smile on his face. How many times have you imagined this same scene in the past weeks? How many times have you said his name, only to find him deep in his medically induced coma?

            “Hey.”

            His voice. It sounds like sandpaper, but it’s his.

            “You’re awake.”

            “Appears that way.”

            You take another step in, but it’s all you can manage. “You were shot.”

            He smiles ruefully. “I recall.”

            “I-” you stop, eyes snagging on something out of place. “Those flowers. Those weren’t here this morning.”

            Jungkook glances at the lilies on his side table. “Oh? Who are they from, then?” He looks back at you only to find that you haven’t moved. You’re glued to the spot, staring at the flowers. “You alright?”

            From right here in the doorway, the flowers are angled just right. The card pokes up in the front, revealing an embossed snake. Your blood runs cold as you feel the shadow of lips ghosting along your knuckles and a whispered confession.

            Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.

            The Kim family crest, sitting just so in the lilies at Jungkook’s bedside. And a laugh, deranged and crooked, ripping from your chest.

next

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[lookingforluna]

Double Edged Sword: 03 || kth

❥ Pairing: Mafia Leader! Taehyung x Reader

❥ Word Count: 2.3k

❥ Rating: M

❥ Genre: mafia!au angst, fluff, smut, violence, enemies to lovers au

❥ Warnings: swearing, angst, violence, eventual smut in the future

❥ Summary: Fate doesn’t care about your plans. Everything happens when it’s supposed to, whether or not you have control of it. You knew he was dangerous. You saw it from the very moment your paths crossed — the way he carries himself, how heads turn as he appears, and the way fear shows in the eyes of those who know him. He lives in a world surrounded by destruction and sin. He had even warned you about the darkness. The dangers. The violence. If only you had realized he was speaking of his own.  

❥ A/N: Sorry for the wait! At first I wasn’t sure if I should continue to post this series, but I decided to continue! Thank you for the love and support you all have shown this series. I plan to finish it and give you guys more! 💙

❥ Previous Chapter: Chapter 02 

You have got to be joking. What the fuck was going on? Hours ago, your life seemed completely normal, and now all of a sudden, your life is in the hands of some stranger. A stranger blessed with a god-given face but who nonetheless acts like a cocky ass bastard. Who did he think he was touching your face like that? And the way he touched your lip. Your brain is going to explode. Why do you react that way to him? You feel like you have no control over your reactions.

After revealing his identity, he just walked away from you. His heated stare was gone, suddenly leaving your body cold. His cologne left your mouth watering, the smell making you want more. He sauntered over to the fireplace with a glass of bourbon, his tongue clearing the taste of alcohol from his lips. He ignores you during the conversation, not even glancing at you, even though you were the topic of their discussion.

His words still sent chills down your spine as you recalled them,

"My name's Taehyung, and your life is now in my hands."

What could he mean by that? He didn't even give you an explanation or the slightest hint. Eric was dead, and there was nothing you could do about it. Your heart ached for your boyfriend, the one you hoped to build a future with, the one person who could comfort you in your current condition. As the memories of the two of you start to fill your mind, your body suddenly feels numb. Your breathing gets softer as the exhales of your breaths can barely be heard.

"Someone should check if she's still breathing," Yoongi says roughly, the harshness behind his voice making you wish you could disappear. But, instead, all eyes flash over to you, and the attention causes your eyes to find a sudden interest in the hardwood floor.

"We have important things to discuss now."

Your eyes land on Taehyungs' face as you notice the unreadable look that now settles across his features. However, the tone in his voice hinted that the conversation was serious. His mouth opens slightly, a breath leaving his parted lips before his voice becomes deep and throaty. 

"Jungkook, you stay here with her. The rest of you come with me."

Your throat goes dry at the thought of being stuck alone with the arrogant man you couldn't stand. You watch as they make their way into what looks like a study. Taehyung is the last one to leave, downing the glass of bourbon before he sits it down on the fireplace mantle. Unlike the others, it's still hard to pick up on his expressions. They outright make it clear if they don't like you, but there's nothing to read with him.

You watch as he retreats into the room, already accompanied by the rest of the guys. Finally, he turns around his hands, moving to close the doors and your eyes lock with his, the unreadable look still on his face. His hands push the door shut, and finally, you release a large breath of air.

"Well, that's interesting."

Your head whips around to find Jungkook leaning back in his chair, one knee folded over the other, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips. Your eyebrow lifts as you stare at him curiously. Whatever he's about to say can't be good, especially with that devilish smirk dancing on his lips.

"You seem... nervous around Taehyung," he says as his eyebrows raise in a questioning look. 

You turn your head away from his face, not liking how his gaze makes you feel. He can read your body language even if you think it's not noticeable. But, in all honesty, you forgot that Jungkook was there at that moment. Taehyung's face was the only thing you saw. 

Rolling your eyes, you choose to avoid his comment and instead get answers. "Why am I here?" You ask as you run your hands over the end of your dress, fixing the bunched-up fabric.

"For your protection."

You blink slowly, trying to understand what he meant by that. Then, squinting your eyes at him, you continue your questions. 

"Well, I'm already safe. You guys got me out of the burning building," you say, pointing out the obvious. 

Jungkook stays silent, his eyes remaining on the door of the study. Maybe he didn't hear what you said.

 "When can I leave then?" You ask, sitting up straighter as you wait for his answer.

You watch as his eyes move away from the study to look at you before they are back on the door. 

"You can't," he says, his voice hard and brows furrowing.

Your body suddenly moves forward, your expression matching his own, "What do you mean I can't leave?" 

When he provided you with no response, you continued to push further, irritated with his lack of response.

"So I can't leave because you guys say so? You expect me to listen to that when I don't even know-," before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook interrupts you.

"Stop asking so many damn questions," he shouts as he pushes himself out of his chair and is now standing before you. His breathing is heavy as he stares at you, the annoyance present in his eyes.

"Just because I'm the one watching you doesn't mean I have to put up with all of yo-, " without warning, a loud alarm sounds off, and the entire room goes red. 

Jungkook's expression suddenly changes, and he's no longer looking at you. Instead, his eyes dart around the whole room as he moves, pulling you to stand behind him.

The study door swings open, and the rest of the guys file out with alert expressions on their faces. You feel the panic start to set in, and you automatically grip the back of Jungkook's shirt, staying as close to him as possible. You notice him tense up but then relax. 

"What's going on?" you whisper, your voice sounding shaky as you look at the others.

"Intruder," Jin says, looking at you, and that's when you see it.

His stance is alert; his hands lowered at his side, and in between rests a gun. Your eyes widen at the weapon, finally understanding the severity of the situation. We were all in danger. Everyone had guns, even Jungkook, who stood before you clenched a Glock, his hands pointed out and prepared. Everyone was silent in the room; no one dared to breathe. The only sound heard was the blare of the alarm.

The sound of glass breaking caused your entire body to tense up, moving even closer to Jungkook.

"Jimin. Jin, take the east side of the house," You watch the two nod, moving silently out of the room following Taehyung's command.

"Hoseok and Yoongi, you two take the northside. Stay cautious." The two men disappear around a corner, their guns armed and ready. Your eyes scan the room as you look at the doorways.

"Jungkook," Taehyung says, causing him to turn around. 

The two lock eyes and stare at each other, a silent message spoken. Taehyung looks at Namjoon and motions his head, the two of them heading to the south entrance, sparing you one glance before he disappears, leaving you alone with Jungkook. You gulp as you realize that your safety has suddenly decreased. Jungkook must notice your uneasiness because he finally decides to speak.

"Stay close to me. Stay silent. Keep your eyes open. Got it?" His words are rigid, and his eyes hard. You nod quickly, not trusting your voice at this moment. 

You held your breath as the two of you walked through the house. Your steps were light, and you were walking on the tips of your toes. Your feet were burning with pain from all of the weight of your body. You were afraid of your heels clicking on the ground, not wanting to be the reason Jungkook and yourself ended up dead. Your eyes were wide and open, trying to spot anything unusual, but in reality, everything was unusual. This house was nothing like anything you had ever seen.

Despite the loud alarm and red lights glowing, the house was incredible. Paintings plastered the walls of the hallway, some looking particularly expensive. At the stairway, two tall lion statues stood on each side made from white marble, and they were extraordinary.

Even though your life was in danger, you couldn't help but glance at the expensive furniture and items surrounding you, taking in the extravagance. Jungkook motioned for you to stay put in the corner. Your eyes follow him as he cautiously walks over to the couch, the gun lifted, his arms stiff, and his eyes sharp. You hold your breath as he rounds the corner of the sofa, one foot in front of the other.

To say you were scared was an understatement. Jungkook could get shot, and there would be no one to protect you. The back of the couch was the only blind spot in this room. You could feel your heart pound louder with each silent step Jungkook made. He didn't look scared, his expression hard as a rock, and it made you wonder how that was possible. 

Swiftly he moves, his hands ready to pull the trigger when you hear a soft whine. Jungkook mumbles something softly under his breath before shaking his head. Your eyes furrow in confusion until you see a small dog run by, its little paws scurrying across the floor in fear.

Now you and Jungkook were in another hallway further into the house, your grip still tight on the back of his shirt and your body still shaking with fear. The further down the hall you went, the less light began to show through. The red light was nowhere in this part of the house, but the alarm could still be heard blaring. It was too dark for you even to see your own two feet, and the darkness made you feel uneasy.

How many people were in the house? What did they want? Who were they? Would they hurt you? 

At the thought of that, both of your hands gripped onto Jungkook's shirt, pulling yourself closer to his back. Of course, there was the possibility of him flipping his shit on you for touching him, but at this second, fear was the only thing on your mind. You wanted to get out of there, to run outside, but you had no idea where you were. You had no idea if you were walking away from the danger or closer to it.

Suddenly Jungkook stops, and you almost step on him in the darkness. He turns around, and you can barely see his face in the dark. His arm grips your shoulder, and you can feel the closeness of his body to yours. 

"Stay here," he hardly whispers, the warmth of his breath disappearing.

You have no idea where he went. You can't see anything in the dark, and it hits you. You're in a dangerous position. Someone could attack you from either direction. The hallway the two of you walked through felt thin, your hands being able to touch both walls if your arms were opened wide.

How would you know if the person returning was Jungkook? What if they killed you before you even realized what was happening?

It's silent in the hallway. You were barely breathing, but it felt like your breaths were echoing off the walls. That's when you heard it. Footsteps. They were light but still noticeable. Your heart rate picked up as the steps became louder, which could only mean one thing. They were getting closer.

You slip your hand over your mouth to muffle your breathing. Your eyes clench shut only to meet more darkness. You focus on the sound, but the pounding of your heartbeat overpowers it. Maybe it was Jungkook. It has to be him; he's supposed to come back. The floorboard creaks on one particular spot, and your head whips around.

Behind me. They're behind me.

Your hand is still clasped around your mouth as you push yourself further into the dark hallway. You feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes, blurring your vision, but it doesn't matter. You couldn't see anything, the darkness swallowing any light. Another step sounds in your direction, and you take three steps back. This is where it all ends. Your last moments would be you not even running but walking away in fear. Finally, your back hits a wall, and panic rushes through your body. 

This was it. This is the end. You swallow the lump forming in your throat, not wanting any sound to escape. You would die with your dignity. You wouldn't beg for your life. You slowly close your eyes as you softly slow your breathing. Finally, the pounding of your heart decreases, and you're at ease.

Maybe this is how it happens. You'll finally be with your father, your hero. You'll be with Eric again, the man your heart ached for. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. You wouldn't be alone anymore.

The steps continue getting louder. They're closer now, and you'll be found at any second. You can make them out in the darkness. Three figures are walking towards you. Your eyes squeeze shut as your teeth bite down on your lower lip.

This is it.

A tear slips down your cheek as a hand wraps around your wrist, dragging you towards a chest. A hand clamps itself around your mouth, preventing you from screaming for help. The heat from their skin lights your body on fire. Their warm breath fans itself across your neck as the person leans in closer to you. That's when it hits you. The tempting smell. The one that leaves your head in a daze and your body flustered.

It was him.

Taehyung.

"Let's go, Little Lamb. I'm here now."

Chapter 04

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[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.

“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.

“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.

He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.

This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.

Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head. 

Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.

“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused. 

It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam. 

“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking. 

Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain. 

“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”

Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you? 

“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it. 

They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of. 

“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for. 

—

Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you. 

Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you. 

“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”

He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.

You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much. 

He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary. 

“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words. 

You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.

“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”

He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad. 

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”

The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.

—

You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away. 

You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started. 

So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.  

Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always  one of patience.

You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.

“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.

His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.

You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.

He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.

“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.

You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.

“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.

That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.

“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”

He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.

—

“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”

The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves. 

Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up. 

The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh. 

How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over. 

—

Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself. 

“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do. 

He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.

“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day. 

Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort. 

You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve. 

When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”

He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet. 

“Doyouhateme?”

The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.

“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”

You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him. 

“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”

That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence? 

Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face. 

—

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did. 

The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm. 

If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped. 

Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged. 

He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.

Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence. 

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.

He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.

“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.

He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.

“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.

“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”

“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”

—

The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted. 

The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out. 

And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.

“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.

He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.

“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”

You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.

“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.

“No.”

“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.

“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”

“You can’t b-“

Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.

Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.

You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.

You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.

The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow. 

No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame. 

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.

“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.

“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn’t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.

“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not. 

“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”

He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?

“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”

He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good. 

“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.

Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.

“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”

“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”

“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”

“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”

“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”

The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.

The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.

“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”

Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.

“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”

—

If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear. 

You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?

Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.

You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?

His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.

His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread. 

He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.

The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself. 

They lied. 

They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust. 

You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you. 

“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you. 

They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.

“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”

Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out. 

You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again. 

He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.

“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you. 

—

When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.

It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.

Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.

He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.

What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?

Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.

The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.

—

He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.

“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.

It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.

“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly. 

“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth. 

“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.

“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”

“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.

“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.

The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says. 

“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…

“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.

“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”

Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched. 

“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”

“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks. 

“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there. 

The older four men look at eachother knowingly. 

“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously. 

“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”

As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.

Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.

#this chapter has very little Namjoon (although I feel he makes an impact) but that’s okay the next chapter is Namjoon centric #bts au #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts ot7 x reader #bts yandere!au #bts yandere #yandere bts #bts imagines #bts writing #bts mafia!au #bts mafia series #bts mafia au #namjoon mafia au #yandere namjoon #yandere seokjin #jin x you #yandere yoongi #yoongi au #yandere hoseok #hoseok mafia au #hobi au #jimin x you #yandere jimin #taehyung x reader #yandere taehyung #jungkook x reader #jungkook mafia #yandere jungkook

[btsugarush]

Hide & Seek | myg (m.list)

❝do you find me sadistic?❞

summary: desperate to rid yourself of crime and murder for the sake of your unborn child, you escape your mafia husband and start fresh with a new man and new identity; but just as life seemed perfect, your former husband shows you that he isn’t too keen on letting you go. you didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?

pairings: mafia boss!yoongi x f!reader, kim taehyung x f!reader.

warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, tattooed!yoongi, gunplay, use of guns/swords, dom!yoongi, manipulation, abuse, drugs, decapitation, possessive behavior, kidnapping, angst, murder, strong language, torture, 18+, minors dni.

author’s note: oop, another one. hope the anons get mad like it truly affects their life and send hate. anyway my favorite movie in the whole world is kill bill, and when i saw this image of yoongi with a sword it gave me kill bill vibes, so yanno i had to do that for the one time.

©btsugarush. please do not repost.

000 |

#min yoongi #bts suga #min suga #bts min yoongi #agust d #min yoongi x y/n #mafia yoongi #mafia au #bts x you #min yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #suga min yoongi #bts yoongi #yoongi min #taehyung smut #bts taehyung #yoongi #suga fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #kim taehyung x reader #suga smut #bts smut #suga #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfic #bts min suga #bts kim taehyung #writing wip

[hollyhomburg]

Before I leave you (Pt.67)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, Yoongi buries it for you).

Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,

W/c: 12.5k

A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Jimin sits on the stairs going down to the basement. His arm in a sling and bandaged up to the elbow. It aches with every small movement he makes as he peals a tangerine. He hasn't had any narcotics in a few hours and they're starting to wear off.

Jimin needs all of his brain power for this; For covering up the murder.

The fewer things running through his system the less sluggish and fuzzy his thoughts are. Jimin picks his poisons and fewer things make him less coherent than the panic and pain and near constant avalanche of thoughts. Tae, Tae's hurt, Tae's-

Tae's fine, Tae's upstairs with Y/n. he has to remind himself of these facts every few breaths. Tae's going to be okay because you wouldn't let anything happen to her.

There is evidence of that virtually everywhere; In the lines across your hands that Yoongi had dabbed at with a cool cloth, the swollen side of your jaw that he'd cradled. The blood drenching the opposite side of your face that he'd tenderly washed away. Not to mention the blood on the kitchen table, the floor, the ceiling. The blood splattered across your nest-

You don't fuck with an omega's nest; you don't fuck with their packmates.

Jimin quiets his brain with a steady breath as he looks down at Yoongi, Jin, and the body between the three of them wrapped in plastic.

He manages to peel the tangerine in his hand despite how uncooperative his left hand is. Numb at the fingertips just like it’s been since the surgery.

Namjoon had stroked his fingers and tested their give every chance he got, holding onto them and prodding while they waited in the hospital room and then again when Jimin got discharged. He said that they’d probably get better. Probably.

Tae's going to be fine because Namjoon is there too- had checked out her head with that soft alpha grumble croon of his. The most soothing sound in the world, and yet incapable of soothing this.

But Jimin knows nothing’s for certain, he might never get the feeling in his hand back. (This is Jimin's penance; The reminder of these tangled few weeks and how things went will be ever present. The reminder will be the first press of every touch with his non-dominant hand. He will never regain full feeling to the tips of his fingers. Never).

There are a few of noodle paw prints in the dust here, Jimin's ass is no doubt covered in it too from resting on the rickety stairs that lead into the half-finished basement. Little paw print marks that would make you coo and take pictures if you were down here.

But you’re not, you’re upstairs getting the evidence washed off of you.

No one's in that kind of mood right now anyway. No one’s been in that kind of mood for a few hours (or a few days, if he’s being honest, from Jungkook’s seizure, to getting shot, and then coming home to a dead body in their living room).

It’s been 4 hours since you killed someone in the kitchen. 3 hours since Jimin was discharged prematurely from the hospital and the rest of the pack was summoned home via a disturbingly calm call from Jin.

It’s been a tangle of moments even for the people not on hard drugs. Jimin feels like he's doing pretty good at answering the pack’s questions given the circumstances. You'd never know that, given Yoongi's eye roll and Jin's heavy sigh.

"Minnie- we're not asking you how you would have killed him just how you'd cover it up."

They used an old shower liner to wrap the body before they carried it downstairs. It makes a squeaky noise against Jin's rubber gloves (The pink elbow-high ones that he uses to do the dishes) as he pulls back the plastic sheet to reveal what's left of the assassin's head and face.

“I already told you, I don’t know his face- not even a little.” I’d have a pretty hard time identifying his face with the state she left it in regardless Is what he doesn't say.

Jimin tucks his chin, unsettled to look at the man's half-blown apart face for long. "I think he might be the spider but I don’t know. I never met him, only heard his name in passing.”

A small tattoo on the man's wrist reveals as much. A small spider tattoo that someone going to have to cut out and bury separately. Someone's going to have to get all of his teeth too- no identifying marks. None.

He’s a little too impressed with the state you’d left him in when he thinks about it. But once he’d seen your face and Hobi’s neck, not an inch of Jimin had felt the kill wasn’t justified. The whole pack feels that way, he knows they must even though they don't say it. Everyone's a little bit in shock right now.

Even Namjoon hadn’t even given the body a second glance when the pack had tumbled into the house. The pack alpha had simply alternated his fussing from you to Hobi to tae and then Jin. Torn between who needed him first. It was the first words Jimin had heard you speak. Your wet gasp, blood that wasn't yours flashing on your teeth. "Joonie- Hobi needs you."

Namjoon had calmed only once he realized that most of the blood on the three of you was the man’s. Yoongi had a similar reaction and so had Jimin, clutching at Tae. Angry at his arm for its uncooperativeness. About ready to tug off his sling and his bandages and stitches if it meant holding tae easier. He'd even tried it, only to be on the receiving end of a disapproving pack alpha growel too.

“Jimin you can’t; your stitches.”

“Fuck my stitches hyung.”

Numb fingers meet numb faces.

He's a bit ashamed of it, but when he first looked up from Tae to you- where you sat crumpled in Yoongi's hold. Your mate laying down a volley of sweet nothings to you to get you to stop shaking. There was only one sentence running through his head.

That’s my girl.

He'd reached over and squeezed your hand, blood and all. That blood has dried now. Soaked into the lines of his palm. Coloring his fate and love lines all rusty while he eats the tangerine. He should probably wash his hands. All of them probably need too.

Jungkook had been the only one willing to speak, closing the door softly behind him, locking it and treading softly closer. Careful to sidestep both the pools of blood and the piece of a skull sitting next to the couch. He looked down at the 7 of you with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.

"Can't we have one normal fucking day?"

Jungkook was the one who’d gone to the kitchen and gotten one of the hand towels to clean your face. His lips tightened to a line when he wiped away the blood and started to see the bruising, the cut across your temple dripping fresh. Lower lip wobbling ever so slightly.

“Kookie-”

Jungkook had turned to Jin and Namjoon, “I don’t want to deal with the body hyung." His hands were already under your arms, lifting you up, helpless. "Help me get them upstairs. We need to-” he’d let out a frustrated noise. Instincts coming to the full front- instincts he rarely feels.

Who knew blood would incur Jungkook's grooming instincts?

The last time Jimin saw Jungkook; He was helping Namjoon and Yoongi herd the three of you upstairs for a much-needed shower. Hobi hadn't been able to do it under his own power. Namjoon had to carry him.

Hobi; who's choked on every word he's tried to speak. Whose eyes are still red from all the burst blood vessels. Who easily got the closest to dying out of the four of you.

Everyone shakes when they touch Hobi and everyone touches him softly. Namjoon just about snaps his teeth at anyone who tries to get close. His hands turning red from the cold of an ice pack wrapped gently around the alpha's throat.

Jimin knows Jungkook's a lot more unnerved than he lets on, shuffling from foot to foot as he bound Tae up with a towel, taking her delicately from Jimin's arms. Carrying her in the same way Namjoon carried Hobi.

Yoongi was all soft helping you upstairs. Speaking in that quiet voice that he saves for Sunday mornings and stolen moments of quiet. Every moment, all of this is stolen.

And now- the beta is down here, leaning over the body and looking at it like it will tell him something that you won't. After your initial demand that Namjoon he tend to Hobi; you haven't spoken a word. Neither has Tae. Jin's done all of the talking.

There isn’t much to say.

Jimin feels the numbness in his hands and looks at Jin. He hasn't apologized for the bullet yet. But the more time that passes the less Jimin wants an apology. Mating marks come in many forms. Jimin has a scar on his body from one of his omega's- so really? What does he have to be upset about?

The whole house needs to be deep cleaned, and then deep cleaned again. There's blood everywhere; on the couch, the ceiling, the curtains. It's a lot to clean. It's going to be a lot to hide.

That's the only reason why Jimin's not upstairs helping you and Tae clean up right now; the body is unfortunately the biggest threat to the pack's safety at the moment.

There’s a bloodstain on the stairs too, a droplet next to where Jimin sits. he makes a mental note of it but doesn't move to wipe it up. He puts a tangerine slice on his tongue and chews before he answers Yoongi’s next question.

“I don’t know how to dispose of a body, I never dealt with this part. My only job was to kill, not take care of them after. I know there’s a way that you can do it with soap.”

Jin snorts, “You only know that from breaking bad-“

Jimin’s a little miffed, “We already have a plastic tub upstairs-”

“Lye,” Yoongi corrects, looking down at the body before he stoops to retape the plastic over the man's face. It was a bitch to wrap him up, the body stiff and heavy from rigor Mortis. The blood beneath it bubbles and darkens, coagulating. Yoongi's long hair falls over his face and he tucks it behind his ear.

“We could use the soap, but it might take a few days.” Jin clarifies.

“Do you think we can wait that long?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin’s got a similar ice pack to his wrists, the skin there bruised and red and swelling where he fought to get free from the handcuffs, where he eventually ripped down the banisters and broke through them with brute strength and panic.

You’d found the keys on the man’s body soon after and released him from the handcuffs, they're wrapped up in the plastic along with the frying pan, the gun that killed him, and a few other items from the living room that were just too bloodstained, every big piece of evidence will lie right beside him where he rests.

Jimin eats another slice of the tangerine, and Jin shrivels his nose at it. “Isn’t that a little gross?”

Yoongi mirrors his disgust. “Yeah Minnie, weren’t those covered in blood?”

But Jimin just shrugs, “I washed it and peeled it hyung” And keeps eating. After a few days of hospital food, the tangerines taste divine.

Yoongi stands from where he’s kneeling on his knees with a faint crack. “One part kitty litter, two parts concrete should keep out the smell,” Jin says, eyeing the 6 by-six-foot hole in the basement's foundation, already there from the plumbing that needed replacing.

Most of Yoongi's tools are down here too. His scrap pile of wood and the dozen bags of concrete. His hack saw and his circular saw that none of them are looking at. Yoongi had only just fit in the plumbing a few weeks ago. He'd been about to re-pour the foundation anyway.

“I’d rather not have a body buried in our house.”

Yoongi touches Jin’s wrist, so feather-light, removing the ice pack to check the swelling to see if it’s gone down. Jin's left hand is just as useless as Jimin's, the knuckles bruised and ballooned.

“It’s just for a few weeks, we can deal with this once it’s all calmed down, but we absolutely can’t go try and bury it. Who knows what the neighbors heard?”

They're all silent at that, silent at the idea that these few hours might be the last few that the pack spends free.

But over the next few hours, there are no blue and red flashing lights outside or concerned neighbors that come knocking. Your one saving grace is that this all happened during the middle of the day and all of your nearest neighbors have nine to five's. Is it so simple to hope that everyone was just at work? That no one heard the gunshots over the nearby roar of the passing train?

(Maybe they're just too used to the pack next door; the one that has the noisy ruts and noisy noisy packmates. The one whose alphas have a habit of opening the windows in the back room and let the sound of their roughhousing and video games flood the street. The ones who have extra loud movie nights. They're just a bunch of kids, how harmful could they really be? At least the pack alpha and omega look respectable.)

It's a good thing that no one comes; because Namjoon has more important problems, more important things to handle beyond the body in the basement or the police at the door.

Namjoon’s hands cradle Hobi’s neck. He wheeze as he tries to speak, his mouth falling open. He's mostly clean, but a rusty trickle of water from his hair trails down his shoulders.

Jungkook tugged him into the shower first and gave him a rough clean before handing him back to Namjoon. They sit on a towel together on the edge of the nest. they only moved him in here to give him some privacy- to distract him because Hobi kept reaching for you. you'd kept reaching back, tae was already in the shower under the stream.

"Pup- your hands- you're going to hurt yourself."

The Nestroom is dark and quiet. Every single blind in the house is draw. Only the christmas lights illuminate Hobi's injuries. Namjoon will tend to Tae and then you after he's checked out Hobi's injuries. will send him downstairs with Jin for some cold water to soothe his throat once he's done. once he's been cleaned again probably.

Hobi was covered with the most blood, having been just under the man when Tae had blown his throat apart while you- Namjoon doesn't want to think of it, doesn't want to see it.

(Namjoon thinks of every moment, sees them behind every blink. Blink and he sees you sitting in his lap over breakfast squirming happily. Blink and you're kneeling in a bloody puddle looking up at him.

Blink and you're curled up in the nest wearing the first pajama pants he'd given you. Blink and he's watching Jungkook dab at your bloody cheek, blink and you're turning into his hand to nuzzle as he wakes you for sunday morning breakfast. Blink and there’s sunlight spilling across your face and blood slipping down your chin. Namjoon's smallest and most sensitive pup not so innocent anymore.)

Namjoon touches Hobi's throat with no small amount of reverence. it cools the anger in his throat. Namjoon's anger has no good place to go.

When Hobi closes his eyes, he sees it too; the explosion of the bullet and the splat of blood pouring down his face. The shower earlier felt so similar- he almost couldn't handle it. He had to concentrate on Jungkook's voice narrating everything.

"Here Hobi, I'm gonna use some soap now. I like Tae's body wash. You know she always just picks whatever bottles are pinkest because she wants all her toiletries to match. It smells good, doesn't it? Can you take a deep breath for me? Through your nose?"

Endless meaningless Jibber jabber to distract all of them.

Now he shivers and shakes in Namjoon's hold. One part terror and one part near frostbite. Namjoon turns the heat up but Hobi still shakes as Namjoon checks his throat. "Open for me baby- that's a good boy."

He flashes a light down there, listening with his stethoscope. The cold metal end of it presses against his collarbones and the bruises too. Finger-shaped that lace over his jugular like a collar. Over Hobi's heart. Every thump ba-thump ba-thump music to Namjoon's ears.

Namjoon’s growl is soothing as he scoots closer to gather the injured alpha close to his chest. Shushing Hobi as he tries to speak for the dozenth time in the last hour. “Don’t try it, careful- I don’t think he did any lasting damage but-”

Namjoon breaks and his forehead drops to Hoseok’s shoulder, fingers rub out soothing circles on Hobi's wrist even as he starts to cry. Namjoon already stitched up the deep puncture wound there. He had to hold his wrist still as he dabbed the stingy antiseptic, the impulse to pull it away too great. The wound wasn't from a bullet but from the piece of the door that embedded itself in Hobi’s wrist. Blown apart the way he could have been.

Namjoon was so close to losing everything, to losing them.

The bruises, Hobi’s eyes, and his little raspy breaths. Everything both punishment and payment for every violent thing Namjoon wants to do. He feels powerless to do more than hold the smaller alpha right now. The strength in his arms doing little to protect Hobi from the hurts he's already nursing. Hoseok leans his head on Namjoon's shoulder and Just lets the alpha hold him.

If he’d come home to the four of you dead what would he have done? more accurately- What wouldn’t he have done?

Namjoon imagines it- the same way he's imagined it thousands of times. Tae's blood on her lips as pretty as any lip stain. Jin on the floor, his little big love wrapped up in permanent stillness like a mating shroud. Your body turned small and quiet the way you'd been when he'd met you- only so much worse. Hobi with his heart slow and absent of his near-constant music. Bodies stiff as statues, turned alters meant to worship both grief and love.

He’d probably have demanded Jimin and Yoongi tell him everything they knew. And then he’d have gone hunting.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Hoseok only to continue dabbing at his wounds. The violence of his alpha's instincts calmed by the sanctity of this- of making it better. of being gentle even when namjoon wants to be anything but.

Hoseok’s mute. Throat too swollen to make more than a soft hissing sound on command. Vocal cords not damaged just swollen. Leaving his brain to hurdle through the last few hours. Eyes closed but his mind wide open.

He sees it all behind his eyes; your hand descending with the frying pan, the explosion of wood near his head. The splat of hot blood against the wood floor. Gasping and getting blood in his mouth accidentally. Choking in it- drowning a little. Everything. The sting of smoke on his eyes. Your words ring in his ears like the final notes of a symphony.

“You can take me. I’ll go with you. Willingly. That’s what she wants isn’t it?”

Hoseok’s brain teases through what you might have meant with that. The unnamed she that you mention. Who, why, and what aren’t you telling them? Is it the woman that Yoongi talked to you about before?

He's unable to say anything to Namjoon even as the alpha softy cradles his damaged throat. Unable to even whisper it out through the swelling that threatens to cut off Hobi's airway. It feels like he's breathing through a straw. Namjoon says he's not going to choke, that it only feels that way. The panic is hard to let go of.

But who do you have to go back to there? You've never talked about the family like you wanted them, like they were your pack. Who have you run from? What monsters are here to haunt you? Who is after you? Or is it something darker- more sinister?

Maybe Hoseok's heart has never truly healed from Yoongi leaving them. Maybe a wounded heart remembers. Yoongi always had them to go back to that Hoseok had never questioned. But he's never wondered about you or stopped to consider that maybe, Yoongi's not the only one who left something.

The family doesn't exactly seem like something you can walk away from unscathed. Yoongi managed it, but Jimin didn't.

Hoseok should warn Namjoon, should tell someone but- it's impossible. His airway protesting with an agonizing twinge with every attempt he makes at speaking. He wonders if this is what being nonverbal felt like for you.

The pain pulses dully without adrenaline to dilute it as Namjoon so lovingly examines the marks, again and again. But he shouldn't be spending so much time. You and Tae are bruised and battered too- even if Hoseok’s are by far the worst; you need tending to.

Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival.

Hoseok thinks of the body, not the one that sits downstairs, but the one that you found months ago in the ocean. Maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe none of this was. How far back do the coincidences go? Between Jin and Yoongi who wouldn't have a relationship to stand on without Yoongi's family- how many other things in the pack are because of this?

Hoseok struggles to speak, to talk to Namjoon about what you'd almost done, what you'd almost bartered- but nothing but air comes out, and the pack alpha shushes him. His hands grip Namjoon's shoulders hard.

Namjoon wishes he had more than just numbing cream and sutures for Hobi’s hurts. Jimin’s already offered up some of his opioids for Hobi to sleep and as much as Namjoon hates the idea of anyone swapping medication- Hobi might actually need them.

Jimin’s doctor had been a little bit liberal with them, sure that his 6 on the pain scale had to be at least a 9. He could spare one or two. The truth is that nothing hurts more than this- seeing the people that you love in pain. Jimin and Namjoon save their 10s for days like this.

With the blood cooling, Namjoon’s anger has nowhere to go. The body in the basement has already gone cold.

In the quiet of the house they can audibly hear Seokjin and Yoongi start mixing the concrete. The dull scrape of a shovel against a bucket and the sound of a faucet dripping.

Namjoon wipes at Hobi’s throat, and Hoseok tries again- futile in his efforts to speak. Namjoon shushes him.

In the basement it goes; drip, scrape, drip.

~-~

Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. She rests against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy.

So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.

He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, whether from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. Biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and tells him to keep going.

Evidence is evidence. Washing off can’t wait.

Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back.

You watch them from where you sit. Mostly you just watch Tae. When Namjoon's body doesn’t block your view. He stitches the gash on your forehead, hands pulling the sutures closed in a gentle and practiced way. The pass of the needle through your skin a distant sensation.

The wounds on your hands are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon sealed them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.

Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.

Namjoon apologizes after every wince.

The second he’s done he tosses his suture kit into the bathroom sink with a clang the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does.

Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic to cut down on the cleanup. Hoseok's bloody footprints join Tae's trailing from the doorway to the shower. Join the trail that you left. Parts of you are still dripping.

"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. Thumb skimming over the mark on your forehead.

You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth; you want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want Noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with. You want-

You want to snap at him and tell him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-

Namjoon kisses your forehead. A lingering brush. The one spot that's not bloody.

You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.

When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry. You’re not sure what for. The terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.

Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want to. It feels too much like a confession already.

“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”

“Namjoon-”

He continues on, words rushing out. “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack alpha-” You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.

The bit of gauze over your palm is already turning bloody. It's hard to tell if it's your blood or if it's his. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.

And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.

When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.

Namjoon stands and when you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.

Because the bandages and the glue on your hands can’t get wet Namjoon binds your hands with Ziplock bags and duct tape. The plastic rustles, and you follow Hobi's bloody footprints into Jungkook’s arms. Namjoon closes the door behind you.

Every bit of plastic is going to get melted down later, until all the blood and terror evaporates through something as simple and trivial as fire. Fire will cleanse it of all evidence, as sure as the burning water you step under.

You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the bullet holes in the walls or the blown-apart door to the upstairs bedroom, but Yoongi’s always had a handle on the home improvement stuff.

Jungkook helps you disrobe off your bloodied clothing. Lifting your shirt over your head and stooping, telling you to hold onto his shoulders so that he can take off your sweatpants. You're pretty sure they're Yoongi's but there's no time to get sentimental as he puts them inside a garbage bag along with Tae's and Hobi's clothes.

Everything on your person is evidence. When you look back Namjoon's gone, summoned by Jin's distant call from downstairs. It's just Jimin outside of the shower. watching you, but mostly watching Tae.

You’d be more self-conscious of your nude body if your brain wasn’t still racing. It’s hard to do much with the bags on your hands. But Jungkook squirts out a healthy dollop of your favorite shampoo and gets to work once the conditioner is in Tae’s hair. She sits like a discarded ball-jointed doll on the built-in bench. Her long hair hair stuck like a sheet over her eyes.

Nothing is as important as making sure you’re not found out. And the frothy shampoo turns rusty around Jungkook's fingers. You have to have a lot of blood on your face. All the water that rolls off of you goes pink.

Jungkook is gentle even by your hairline scratching against your scalp with his fingers. The skin there is tender. Namjoon taped a bit of gauze over the sutures too. You don't remember when he did that.

You make a noise. “Too rough?” his voice has something unreadable in it, something soft and concerned.

You don't respond because Yoongi makes his reappearance at the doorway. The black shirt he wears is dusty at the front from the concrete. His eyes single focused on you the second he enters the room. You stare at him the way that Tae stares at Jimin. Jungkook just huffs and pulls you a little more snugly against his chest.

Tae stands in the corner of the shower, still staring at Minnie. Minnie who stares back, practically not blinking. Both of their anguish are hidden behind glass. Like fish in tanks that could never get out. Not really.

Part of Tae gets washed away down the drain. Swirling and gurgling down and down with no one to notice.

Tae stares off blankly into space. Sometimes Jimin talks to her and sometimes he hums through the glass, he'd be in there too if his bandages couldn't get wet either. If Namjoon hadn’t yanked him back from the doorway and told him that he couldn't.

Jungkook takes the boar bristle brush to your body too. Everything has to be scrubbed multiple times until your skin feels nearly raw from it. Tae’s fingernails, her arms, your neck, the side of your face, the hollow at the inside of your arms. Your knees. Everywhere.

He apologizes when he goes over bruises, wincing, clutching you a little tighter, a little closer to make up for the pain. But Jungkook is meticulous as he cleans of evidence until you feel groomed clean. Until there’s no more blood swirling down the drain just clear water, and the light outside has turned pearly and blue in the twilight.

Tae's still silent. She's been quiet beyond the occasional heartbreaking whimper since you both killed that man. Eventually, You push at Jungkook's hands with a pointed look in her direction where she's slumped and he goes with a soft nod. Two omega's taking care of their alphas.

Jungkook’s delicate with Tae’s head, gentle in the way he cradles the bruising, half hidden by her hair. Washing out the conditioner with a quiet hum. Namjoon had diagnosed her with a concussion pretty quickly, it's not a crack in her skull plate but she's not going to go putting her hair up in a bun any time soon.

Jungkook alternates from you to Tae. One moment you're standing, the next Jungkook is taking you up gently from the floor and Yoongi is at the glass, hand on the door- looking at you anxiously. Letting out a volley of cursing. You can't remember the last time you heard him use language like that.

"Hyung she's fine- she's just slippery, I've got her."

Their voices are so soft and grave and so quiet. Or is it just that you can’t hear it? Why are their voices so far away and muffled? Sometimes Yoongi is here and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes Jungkook is holding you, talking to Namjoon about something, and other times he and Yoongi are talking. Keeping their voices low. Your ears ring. It's so loud it deafening.

“Do you need me to take over?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. Jungkook has blood on his feet, from you or Tae you’re not sure, it soaks the hair there. Jungkook’s got hairy fucking feet for an omega- you’re not sure why you’re concentrating on it. Why you’re noticing all these things now. Cataloging little things about them like you might never get the chance to notice them again.

Your heart beats quick, fear still consuming you even though the danger has passed. You look down at the tiled floor and the room spins.

You don’t feel a thing when you close your eyes. You don’t feel anything when you think of the man that you just killed. You don’t feel anything but roaring, like the crashing of the ocean or the sound when you lift your ear to a shell. The hearing in your left ear where the gun went off feels…off, muffled. You put your hand up to toy with it and freeze when you realize it isn't right.

"Guys" You paw at your ear. But they don't seem to hear you.

"No, I've got them.”

“We need to clean up the downstairs. Kookie, where do you keep the oxyclean?”

"Guys"

They still don't hear you. Maybe you're not making a sound at all just mouthing the words. Your movement gets Tae's attention and her eyes focus for the first time in hours. Slumped on the bench, her hand grips the tiled edge hard as she tries to stand but can't. Jungkook hands Yoongi something through the steam, the black trash bag full of bloody clothes.

The notice Tae trying to get to you first. she hits the floor with a small thud and tugs her way over to you. You make a noise in your throat- a distressed chirp that makes the alphas flinch. Tae cups your cheek as you dig your finger in, slippery from the plastic- and pull something small and fleshy out of your ear.

It's soft and squishy. A curved piece of pink and white brain matter. A little bloody but bleached from the water.

You try to stand to your feet but teeter, shaking, staring down at the chunk of person that you just got out of you, that was just in you.

For a second, no one says anything, but then-

“That’s so fucking gnarly.” Your head jerks up in Jungkook’s direction.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Tae actually does look a little green, but it's good to hear her voice at the very least. She hauls herself over to the drain and starts to dry heave.

"Oh tae don't-" the sound of vomit hitting the floor joins the sound of the shower. You don't look at her. just at the lump of person in your hand.

"Someone please take it from me," Jimin is already there opening the glass door and holding out a cloth for you to place it in.

Yoongi presses his hands to the glass as he watches you struggle to grab the brush that Jungkook was using on you from the floor after finally getting your feet under you. Jungkook is torn, his hand on Tae's shoulder as she wretches turning from her to you like he doesn't know what to do or who to help first.

You don't care about the state of your hands you just need to get clean. You Ignore the twinge of pain in your hands as you try and get the bottle of body wash open. Ripping off the plastic bags that cover your hands when you can't unclick the cap immediately. frustrated and panicking. You ignore Jimin calling your name. The gauze falls to the floor with a wet thwack and you take the boar bristle brush to your hands. Cuts and all.

Big hands stop you. Hands that dwarf yours. Hands that you'd know blind.

Yoongi's standing under the spray fully clothed, the water pinning down his hair and quickly soaking him. His hands tangling with yours, taking the brush from you. Wordless as he grabs your wrists and jerks you forward hard.

He holds on until you stop shaking. resting against his chest. guiding your face to his scent gland. "Take a deep breath for me now sweetheart- there you go- just like that."

Jungkook doesn't say anything and neither does Jimin, not as Yoongi starts to wash you again. Jungkook just stoops to lift Tae and place her back on the bench. She goes easy, limp, and doll-like. But she's almost done- she's almost clean. Tae pushes at Jungkook’s shoulders.

"I’m fine. I need to wait for the nausea to pass before I try getting out of here.”

With you, it's going to take a little longer.

Jungkook has already shampooed your hair, but he does it again. The telltale signs of rusty red in the peach-scented shampoo. Bubbling orange-pink. Yoongi does it slower, gentler- it feels more normal. Like the slow loving you're used to.

“Do you ever feel like-” your voice is a little crackly from all the screaming you did earlier. You hate how the terror makes you not remember all the details. Did you make any sound while you killed him? Did you say anything through the rage?

The others are looking at you but you have eyes for just Jimin. his hand tightens to fists, knuckles pressed against the glass. eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Do you ever not feel guilty? About killing people Minnie?”

You are nude, as bare as you’ve ever been before him, it's hard to be self-conscious about it. Maybe this would be a little sexier- showering with Tae and Jungkook and Yoongi with an audience if you weren't literally trying to cover up a very violent murder.

You remember the words Jimin had said to you weeks ago now. “Would you kill for me?” “I’d do worse” you wonder if this qualifies as worse. You can’t imagine what would be much worse than this.

Jungkook's hands are rough as they massage a bit of soap down your back but instead of being comforting, it feels like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.

Jimin hums. Eyeing Tae still sprawled on the built-in bench. Jimin gathers his thoughts before he speaks. “In my contract, at the beginning-” He starts but cuts off as you start to slip. Jungkook's hands find you, helping Yoongi hold you up more properly. Your mate doesn't let Jungkook take you entirely just moves a bit to the side to give him space. Any other day you'd love to be in the middle of a yoonkook sandwich but-

“Your contract?” he nods, blond hair bobbing. Yoongi meticulously removes the dried blood from under your fingernails, careful to hold your glue sutures out of the direct spray.

“I specified that I’d only ever kill bad people. of course I got a little lazier after I got used to it." He shoots an anxious glance in Tae's direction, but she's still just sitting. "But at the beginning, I’d go back and look through their files to try to find out what they’d done to warrant a hit getting taken out on them. I couldn’t always find a reason but most of the time I did."

You can see it in his face, that Jimin doesn't want to say that they deserved it. Because if they deserved a violent ending then you could say the same about the 8 of you. Jungkook's hands get a little close to the nape of your neck and you turn to him and snap.

"Don't scruff me."

"Sorry." You need it. Is what he doesn't say.

“Most of the time it was worth it?” You cling to his words. With Geumjae you’d never had to guess if he deserved it or not but this-

Jimin’s eyebrows are brought into a hard line, “Karma is a fickle thing. Sometimes it never comes but-” his eyes are downcast, "Sometimes it's a good thing, being the karma."

You sit quietly, digesting his words. Your lower lip trembles, and you don’t know if you feel terrible or better when the tears just won’t come. Yoongi delicately cradles your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you back against his chest.

“Yoongi.”

“Let me hold you for a minute.” You do, body sagging under the weight of your exhaustion.

Tae teeters in Jungkook’s hold, but she pushes against his hands weakly when he tries to make her stand again. Her voice sounds warbly and fragile when she shakes her head. “I’m still dizzy.”

He tries to guide her gently back to the bench, but she doesn't make it that far. Pushing away his hands when she descends to the marble floor. Closer to the wall, Closer to Minnie who mirrors her, falling to the floor too. Getting as closer to her as he can without being in the shower.

Jimin lets out a sad and bitter-sounding laugh and Tae smiles in reply while Jungkook and Yoongi share an anxious glance over your head.

He's still grinning, words twisting, eyes shining with sorrow and fondness. “You couldn’t wait 24 hours until you had to make it even, didn’t you?”

Tae closes her eyes as her smile twists and she starts to cry “Where you go, I go. We’re the same now Minnie.” Jimin doesn't mean to ask what she means. He knows.

If you're a killer I'm a killer. If you're damned, I'm damned. Even though neither of them believes in God or heaven or damnation. Not really. Not anymore. It's very half-hearted.

(I don't know if it's worth wondering if the people you love are bad people, I think when worse comes to worse, you just put the heaviness down and keep on loving them anyway).

Jimin’s eyes are soft on her, the way that they only ever are with Tae. He places his hand on the glass fogging around his fingertips. She doesn’t match his hands, just leans her cheek against it. Love is only a thin layer of glass away.

You know it hurts her a little bit, must make the dysphoria a little harder to breathe through, to let Jimin and Jungkook see her like this; just the long hair and nothing delicate to cloth her soul in. A soul that now you’ve irreparably tarnished.

A soul that is damaged beyond repair now thanks to you.

It is your fault. All of this is because of you. all of this pain and anguish and damage is because of the choices you've made. the stupid idiotic childish choices. If you'd never needed it- if you'd just been strong enough- Tae could have been whole. Tae could have been unharmed. Hobi and Jin too- if you’d just-

Back at the hospital, Tae had so many questions about Jimin’s job, so many questions about when and where, and why. But she finds her head empty of them in the aftermath. She has no desire to learn anything else about Jimin’s job. Not now that she knows what killing feels like.

Tae is never going to be able to look at red nail polish the same way again.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the water.

~-~

Eventually, you finish washing. Wrapped up in fluffy white towels that will have to be burned too. The house smells like bleach and gunpowder. It covers everything.

Even the noodle is looking a little more grubby than usual when he zips by, meowing for someone to give him attention. You hear the saw going and you know that Yoongi is cutting the bullet holes out of the walls while the others clean up the blood.

Your skin feels pink and sensitive were the towel brushes as you go looking for pajamas, you'll get some for the others too. Later, Jin will fuss and ask to put some cream on you. Will massage it in something of an apology and pretend that Yoongi isn't going over the whole house with a blacklight to spot any errant blood splatters.

Later Yoongi will take a wood scraper to the floorboards where the man died, will rip them up, and burn them in the house's ancient fireplace just to be sure that no one finds any evidence.

You'll all pretend that Tae doesn't shake through a panic attack when you have an informal dinner in the nest. jin's rule of "no food in the nest" broken for this. You'll all pretend that Hoseok won't choke choking on all but the smallest sips of water. You'll all pretend. You're good pretenders, good liars too.

Later, Jin will put cream on your skin and dot it all with kisses, the swelling in his hands won't take too long to go down. You'll get the love and You won’t deserve a single second of it.

You don't know how you fooled yourself into thinking you ever deserved it. The last 8 months have been stolen. Not earned.

The one-year anniversary of Geumjae's death comes and passes as you go to the top of the stairs in your towel, Ears straining to hear what's going on downstairs.

There is a lot of talking going on downstairs, between Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. About what to do, and how to handle this. Hushed voices kept mostly out of earshot. And other more dangerous questions get asked, with equally as dangerous answers.

One of Jimin's guns sits on the kitchen counter through all of it. No one moves to put it away. They're not sure when they're next going to need it and they'd rather not get caught off guard again.

“I could talk to some people- call them. Some people owe me favors, There has to be some section of the family that doesn’t want her too-“

"Absolutely Not, I am not having you get into some weird ass mafia debt"

"Yeah, jailcell orange is so not your color hyung"

“We stay quiet. For the next 48 hours- it’s likely no one will know what happened. They’re too hurt- we need some time to regroup and think.”

Hobi’s voice is absent from the fray. You hear something quite like he's trying to speak, and someone shushing him softly. Namjoon says that his swelling won’t go down enough to talk until tomorrow. You hear the sound of someone opening the refrigerator to get ice.

The door to the bedroom has been blown apart, and a flurry of bullet holes chewed through the top corner. It sits off its hinges and in two pieces.

You remember watching Yoongi paint the door, sitting at the bottom of the stairs while he worked at the top of it and painted it to match the wallpaper in the staircase, a dark cobalt blue. You remember all of it, every little thing you watched him do to make this house into something worthwhile. To make it into a home and now it's riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood.

It's funny, you hardly remember every little thing he did for you, to make you worthwhile.

You have always been a reminder that you don't make houses out of abandoned buildings, and mates out of monsters that bite.

The water has turned the cuts on your hands white and gummy when you look down at them in the closet room. They’re already oozing, not bleeding, it will be at least a day or two until you can touch anything without discomfort. Namjoon will scold you ever so gently later and re-do your bandages.

The pink curtains are drawn already to keep out any wandering eyes from the outside. This is a dressing room after all. The whole room feels like a blush-toned jewel box and you, the one piece of cheap costume jewelry at the center.

You get up and shut the door before you sit on a small poof- something silky and tufted that Jimin had gotten Tae right after she'd come out.

You sit in your towel and look down at your wounds. Thinking about Tae's concussion. Jin's wrists. Hobi's throat. Both of their blank looks and the violence of death and trying to live. You think it all through, every possible ending to this before you pick up your phone and dial Her number.

Moonbyul picks up on the first ring. It’s like she’s been waiting for your call.

“Did you like your courting present pup?”

Your throat is dry and you don’t know exactly what to say, even less how to say it. She hums at your silence, an alpha's imitation of a purr. Waiting until your quietness builds to a frantic pulse.

In the pack, you've always been the one with the best survival instincts. Geumjae made you this way. Although the pack has spent the last few months trying to heal you; deep down you know you've never been anything more than a scared animal. Fight or Flight. Freeze or fawn.

Bullet to bullet. Tooth to tooth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. This time is different. This time you have something worth protecting.

You stand, no longer able to sit. There is a noise at the door, and you wait with bated breath for someone to come in. They don't come. But you stand and move farther inside. Hoping that the distance will disguise the sound of your whispered conversation.

She continues when it becomes clear you're struggling to speak. “I’ve got another one on the way. Hyejin’s here, wanna say hello? You’re on speaker.”

“Pup,” she giggles, and you feel like you might vomit. It’s a struggle really, not to end the call right there, not to let the fear overtake you. “We haven’t heard back from Spider yet, and I have a feeling someone’s been a little naughty.”

You lift the curtain to look outside, the train chugs past and the cars flit by like the fast small birds searching for seed in the snow. The whole world is grey and flat. The sky is orange from the lights of the city reflecting the clouds. The trees bare of all but a few crumbly leaves. It’s strange how all at once, the train is all you can look at. All you can think about.

You think about hoseok, the night at the train tracks where he stopped you from leaving. When he asked you to stay.

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you to stop this, please.” Your voice sounds off, even for you. Too flat, strange even to your ears.

“I’m afraid we’re too far along for that.”

"Please, please Moonbyul-" You turn, pacing back towards the door. Past Tae’s clothes, past yours, past Jungkook’s, past the alcove where Hobi hangs his sweatshirts for you. You pause there. Looking at them.

“You said- you said when it was over you’d give me anything I wanted. Well I want them alive. Even if-"

Your voice is so shaky, you're careful to make sure you're not overheard. The pack is in the other room, just downstairs. You can hear the distant hum of their sweet voices; the people you love always sound like a melody. Your absence hasn’t been noticed yet.

"Even if I’m not here.”

For once they’re silent on the other end of the line. It’s a full silence, filled with one part lust and one part hunger. Both of them are like Noodle playing with a mouse. Waiting for the right time to drive their teeth in and end this game.

But even mice have teeth. Your hand is holding your phone so hard that the plastic makes your bones ache and your cuts bleed fresh.

“If you don’t let them live, I'll never stop fighting. But if you want me to be willing- If you want me to be your pup the way I think you do."

You can’t even close your hand into a fist with how wrecked your hands are. They hurt with every clumsy movement. you hold the phone. Your every heartbeat lurching with the horror of what you're doing.

I can’t lose them; I can’t be the reason why they die. They'll keep sending people until we're all dead unless I do something.

“All of them, all of them need to be safe, Jimin- you need to let him go of his contract and let him go back to living a normal life and you need to not punish Jin for working for the FBI.” Your words rush over themselves. "Leave my pack alone and I’ll be obedient. I'll be yours. I’ll never try and go back to them again. I won’t ever try and leave. I promise.”

Moonbyul and Hyejin are silent on the other end of the phone. You wait for a few moments. They must be looking at each other, deliberating.

Everything in this room aches. The closet bedroom that Yoongi made he made for you. The wainscotting just so. Everything in this house was crafted with an equal amount of love.

It was never meant to be yours forever, you’ve been keenly aware of this fact since the moment you met Yoongi. Since the moment you met his eyes across the dining room table and the moment his teeth met your skin. Borrowed things don't belong, they never do. Good things do not last. You only get them for as long as you get them and not a moment longer.

You're looking at Hobi's sweatshirts, in the alcove where he stacks them for you to take when Moonbyul and Hyejin respond.

“We'll agree to those terms, but remember their safety depends on your performance."

"You have 24 hours to get to us pup. Make them count.”

The dial tone drones like a funeral drum.

~-~

(Hoseok, a few years prior)

The backroom at the record shop is cramped with all sorts of things from a bygone era;

A mini fridge with a decrepit desktop computer and logbook balanced atop it. Pictures and bulletins glued to the wall from the 1960's. A greasy coffee machine piled high with bags of expired tea. A cramped spot for employees to hang their coats and a yellowing old table with a pair of chairs; both occupied by people also out of place. a beta that has a thing for 1980's rap and an alpha with a broken heart who admittedly loves 2010's pop.

A poster of some glittery showgirl omega from the 20s bats her eyelashes down at Hoseok as he has a mental breakdown. Offering neither comfort nor absolution nor love.

Maybe if he'd been born an omega like that, it would have been easier. Maybe they'd have wanted him then.

Yoongi's hands rub down Hoseok's shoulder, his back, places only lovers have touched. Up and down. An endless circle. An ouroboros of affection nibbling Hoseok's fickle heart. Hoseok aches harder with every passing moment.

Yoongi looks at the clock as Hoseok continues to sob. The shop should be open right now but Yoongi won't let it. It can go out of business for all he cares. As long as no one makes Hoseok get up from this chair before he's ready.

Beta instincts are fickle things, but Yoongi has always had a third sense. Something in him always knows if people are trustworthy and if they need him. Something in their scents or faces or eyes- like small planets reflecting the cosmos back to them. Do planets bear life only when someone is willing to look for them? Do people only deserve help when they're willing to ask for it? or is it like this?

Eventually, Hoseok gets his breath back in his chest and his sobs quiet down. His eyes open bloodshot. All sadness has an expiration date (thankfully). Yoongi's hand slides down his arm and gives his hand a firm squeeze (and stays there).

It's the first time someone's touched Hoseok without wanting something in God knows how long but he's too sad to properly appreciate it or savor it. (Yoongi doesn't want anything from him that Hoseok wouldn't willingly give. Doesn't want anything but his smile. fuck- he's just a co-worker, isn't he?). Who knows when the next touch like this might come? (Yoongi is going to hold his hand tomorrow because Yoongi likes holding people's hands, Jin will give him the tacit permission to do that at least. But all of the pack are keenly aware that Hoseok needs time to heal, no matter how obvious Yoongi's crush and Hoseok's needs).

(Hoseok is definitely not just Yoongi's coe-worker at this point, but saviors come from all sorts of unlikely places)

Eventually Hoseok's sobs quiet and Yoongi sighs, pulling back. He takes one look at hoseok's red nose and pale cheeks and puffs up. "I'm making your hot chocolate and you're going to tell me what's happened."

He gets up like he needs something to do. Like he's tired of taking care of Hoseok. He doesn't take it personally, he's tired of it too.

“My mates they- they kicked me out of our den,” Hoseok confesses. Yoongi's got two mugs in his hands, they thud against the counter when he reaches into one of the cabinets.

It’s warm in here but Hoseok is still thankful for the sweatshirt the beta gave him. Not only for its warmth but for the layer of scent it provides; It’s soaked with the smell of chocolate. So comforting and heavenly that it makes Hoseok a little dizzy when he tucks his nose into it and takes a hefty sniff when Yoongi's got his back turned.

Hoseok was never given the other pack's items, never allowed or encouraged to indulge in their scents. They never asked for his either.

Yoongi hangs both their jackets above the radiator in the back so that they’ll dry faster. He bears an impressive bite mark on his arm, visible because of his short-sleeved shirt. It's bruised just ever so slightly- an alpha bite but not a mating bite because betas don't mate. A mark like that on him is as good a claim as any. Even with the other scents that cling to the sweatshirt.

Hoseok hasn’t known him long, but they’re friends even if they’ve never met up outside of work. You can't not be friends with someone you spend upwards of 30 hours a week with.

Yoongi just hums. "Have you been with them long?"

Hoseok appreciates that Yoongi doesn't use the past tense, his heart too tender around the idea of endings. Some part of him is unconvinced that it really is over. A stubborn heart for a stubborn alpha.

His hair is starting to dry when he nods. "It's been a few years." Hoseok bites his lip, "I could lie and say I didn't see signs but-" his hands end up in his hair, elbows leaning against the creaking yellow table. Tugging a little. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Yoongi says, hand on the back of his head. warm rough fingers. Touching him ever so briefly as he passes to put the milk back in the mini-fridge. "It's not stupid to want to find more love where you got it."

But in truth, There's not much more than Yoongi can say. Not much more that he knows to say. He'd never met Hoseok's pack. Whereas Namjoon and Jimin and the pups have a general tendency to linger around Yoongi person at all hours and locations. Stopping by to drop off coffee or just to make funny faces at him through the window when they're on their way to work. Yoongi has never met his co-worker's pack and has never seen much evidence at all on him beyond some vague hints of scents.

That alone is enough of a hint; usually, when people have packmates they're soaked in their scents. Visceral claims to keep any wandering eyes wandering still. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why Hoseok didn't wear his packmate's scents.

It’s not like the alpha smells bad at all- a little strong sure, but less genetically dominant alphas tend to smell a little sweeter like omegas.

At least that’s what Namjoon says when he feels like info dumping. Late at night when the pack asleep around them and only Yoongi's stayed up to listen. Because Yoongi likes the sound of Namjoon's voice when he gets into the details. Stroking across Namjoon’s bare chest just to feel the alpha's words rumble against his fingertips. His heartbeat against his ear the backtrack for all of it.

Whoever Yoongi’s pack is; they surely love him a lot. That much has been evident since the second that Hoseok met him. Evident in the packed bento boxes and the bunny-eyed omega that walks with him to work sometimes. Or in the tall omega and alpha pair that Hoseok has seen perusing the shelves when he comes in to relieve Yoongi of his shift.

Hoseok has worked here for 6 months. It’s impossible not to collect these details. The hickeys on his throat that he wears after weekends, how ruffled but generally loved Yoongi looks when he comes back from rut and heat leave.

“Is there a reason why they left?” Yoongi tries to be as undiscerning as possible. Voice gentle and measured. Stirring the hot cocoa and putting it in front of Hoseok.

Hoseok takes a sip and it feels like he's drinking a cup of the beta in front of him. Yoongi melts a little into the chair at the happy noise Hoseok makes.

It's good. Really good actually, Yoongi uses twice as much Swiss mix as the package instructs and a tablespoon of honey to boot. More chocolate can never be a bad thing.

Before Hoseok has a chance to respond, The phone next to the cabinet rings. And Yoongi takes it off the stand and hangs it up again in quick secession so that it doesn’t ring anymore. It has to be important but he ignores it for Hoseok's sake. Yoongi does a lot of ordering for the shop, the rare records that their boss is always trying to source and sell. It's a lot of chasing down leads and curators.

(This is not true. This is a lie that Yoongi and his boss have fed him. This phone is set up for the family's use. Hoseok doesn’t know that most of the calls Yoongi answers are more delicate than just simple stock orders.)

“I just found out that my brother has stolen from me, what should his punishment be beta?”

“How much did he steal?”

“300k”

Yoongi swallows, fighting his narrow margin of benevolence. The drops of mercy that he's allowed to show without suspicion. He tells himself that the other beta would order a far worse. People only call him when they want lighter punishment.

“A finger for every 100 then.”

The people who call ask him all manner of things. Things like “I think my child might be planning on going to the police, what should I do before anyone finds out about it?” He is both a secret keeper and a jury.

“Send them away. Out of sight and out of mind of anything that they might be able to share. I hear the military academies are lovely this year. So much snow. Yes, they take omega recruits.”

“My firstborn child presented as an omega instead of an alpha. They're my firstborn and heir, how should I proceed?”

“I can ask around for an advantageous match but I’m sorry, there is no fixing presentation.”

Hoseok hasn’t seen a phone like that in years. Didn’t even know they made old-fashioned ones like that anymore. Ones with a dial, the blue plastic worn from the number of times Yoongi's had to pick it up. It doesn't stay silent for long, ringing soon after yoongi's hung it up.

“I'm the only- they’re an all-omega group.” As if by the mention of his sub gender Hoseok’s angry burning sugar scent fills the room. In reply, Yoongi’s sweetness rises. Hoseok takes another sip and pretends it's just the hot chocolate warming his cheeks. “I guess they wanted to keep it that way.”

"I've got two omegas and they keep me on my toes, I can't imagine four." That gets a laugh out of Hoseok.

"You've got a bunch of alphas in yours though, right?" A bunch already, I wouldn't be needed. Hoseok has seen them, the tall one with dimples that looks like something out of a soap opera. The scary-looking one with the chubby cheeks who's always holding hands with the pretty academic one who likes the jazz in the corner.

Yoongi nods, "That must be nice," Hoseok's eyelashes are all clumped together from the tears. "Having so many people to take care of you."

Yoongi hums, knuckles brushing Hoseok’s hand on the table. It’s just one tender touch but Hoseok starts to break. To crumple.

Yoongi senses Hoseok breaking, pulling him in close before he has a chance to really fracture (he comes just in time, Yoongi loves Hoseok just in time). Yoongi’s scent alone is enough to soothe him- beyond the way he guides the alpha to rest against his throat. Hoseok fights it only a little, what's a little scenting among friends?

They're not just friends, it's not just scenting.

Hoseok wants to bury his nose in the beta’s throat, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, not with the scent of so many others clinging to him. He still sags into the hug. Turns his face away to avoid the temptation.

“They didn’t even tell me- and now the lease on the apartment is up and I can’t afford it on my own and-“ I’m so scared and I just wish there was someone to take care of me. I wish I was a pup again.

They sit like that at the table and Yoongi just lets him cry, He pulls back after his sobbing has cooled. They hug until they both smell like gooey chocolate chip cookies with too much brown sugar.

Hoseok sniffles, “We have to open up the shop,” Yoongi's arms tighten around Hoseok's shoulders in reply.

“It can wait a few more seconds.” Hoseok wants to say that the owner wouldn’t like that but he doesn’t.

Yoongi sips and hesitates. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Hoseok pauses for a second, flushing before he shakes his head. “Okay, it's okay. You can say with me.”

“Are- are you sure they won't mind?” But Yoongi is already typing away on his phone, shooting a quick text to the pack group chat (a chat that Hoseok will be added to in exactly 23 days, but who's counting?)

“Not at all. It’s a bit cramped with all of us but we have a spare bed in the closet room that Tae likes to read on sometimes- Jungkook's boss slept there last night after they came back from drinking and Namjoon was so mad- he won't be mad about you though- it's just that Jungkook- he just really shouldn't be drinking."

"Is he underaged?"

"No, he's just got health issues."

"Oh." Yet another person who gets the love he needs, the care he needs. Hoseok tries and fails miserably not to be jealous over Yoongi's omega whom he's never met.

He won't be jealous for long. Later Jungkook is going to challenge him to an arm wrestle just to prove he doesn't need babying. Beating alphas in feats of strength is his favorite thing. He'll feel Hoseok’s hand in his and get completely distracted. "Wow, you've got like- really pretty hands!" and drag them close to his to compare sizes. He'll be smitten nearly instantly with Jungkook- for what it's worth. The jealousy only lasts for a few hours.

Within a few seconds his phone is ringing off the hook, he shows Hoseok the chorus of, “Yes it’s okay!” and “Poor thing, tell him he can stay as long as he wants.” "Of course hyung!" "Does Hoseok like kimchi-jjigae or should we just order pizza?" “Oh! Can we get some with pineapple?” “Gross Jk.” "Yeah we all know Minnie doesn't like the aftertaste of burnt fruit."

And Hoseok can't help but feel like he doesn’t deserve this kindness and such an effortless acceptance. There is a knock at the front door before he can say anything. A few short taps against the glass. Yoongi tells Hoseok to stay put while he goes to deal with a pushy customer who wants in. Leaving him alone in the backroom with his cooling hot coco and the poster still staring down at him.

(They say two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, but that's not the only way a secret stays buried; the best secrets are the ones you’re not even aware of.

Out of all the people in your pack. Hoseok is the only one in possession of a secret like this. The best kinds of secrets are the ones you don't even know are secrets see- he doesn't even know that this memory is enough to save you. Hoseok is entirely unaware that in his mind lies this memory.

Hoseok was the first person to get on the no-kill list, and it wasn’t because of Yoongi.

All packmates of a Don get put on the list;

no matter if they're active or past.)

Sitting at that yellowing wood table; Hoseok feels more settled now that he knows he has a place to sleep tonight that isn’t this backroom. Pulling the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweatshirt over his palms and sniffing at the collar where it was pushed up against Yoongi’s scent gland.

If he thinks hard, he can pick out a few scents here and there soaking the fabric. (Milky Omega Jin, Honey Sweet Puppy Jungkookie, Cinnamon sweet Alpha Tae and vanil-lalalala Jimin, Coffee Alpha Namjoon and Chocolate Yoongi).

It's so different from his ex-pack's scents. Their sugary sweet omega peppermint and sharp lemony evergreen, winter berry and pine, the cold smart of snow against his nose. His burning caramel scent- so off-putting. The one scent not Christmas-themed. The one that didn’t fit.

By comparison- Yoongi's pack smells like a bakery in summer. Every scent that could be added to a cake maybe (one day, in the kitchen, he’ll eat your tiramisu and realize yes- that’s exactly what it’s missing. Your cakey scent makes them all complete, the warmth of baking things).

He has somewhere to go now. Somewhere to be. Someone to trust. He trusts Yoongi- even if they’ve only known each other for a handful of short months.

And Yoongi’s pack can’t be worse than his last one.

As if in reply to Yoongi’s phone (buzzing with more texts that he doesn't check because Hoseok is nothing if not respectful of people's digital privacy. If he checked he would see "Is that the hot coworker you're always talking about? The one who always looks a little sad?")

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with the notification he's been waiting for.

Pack Omega 🌙 calling.

Pick up? Decline?

Hoseok hasn't yet gotten around to changing her contact information. He scrambles at it, spilling the hot cocoa across the table as he rushes to pick it up. Scrambling to get to it before it goes to voice mail. Blood pounding in his ears.

Hoseok’s voice is broken as he says his pack omega’s name, his old pack omega’s name.

“Byulyi- Moonbyul please-”

Moonbyul is cold on the other side of the phone. Maybe she’d have liked him more, and wouldn’t have given up on him if he didn't beg. But Hoseok has never been above begging. Not for love. Not for the thing he wants and needs the most. Hoseok needs love more than air and as Yoongi said- it's easiest to go looking for love where you once got it.

Even when you know it could hurt you.

Her voice is flat and unaffected. “I just wanted to make sure you found a place to stay tonight. Are you still going to be around to give the landlord the keys?”

Hoseok finds himself nodding even though he knows she can’t see him. “Yes- I can do that, I can do anything you want. Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Moonbyul please-”

“Goodbye Hoseok.” She says, hanging up after a second. Hoseok looks at the phone. Pushing the button to redial. It doesn't go. She’s already blocked him.

It will be a long time until Hoseok hears from his last pack again, a long long time until he says their names again. He will remember the way he’d begged, the way her name had sounded smack dab in the middle of it. And hate hate Hate how it makes him feel. He won't ever say their names, regret and self-disgust getting in the way.

It's a little funny, thinking of how different things might have gotten if he'd just told yoongi their names. If he hadn't let his alpha pride get in the way. A few days from now they'll talk about it together. "I don't like the way saying their names makes me feel- it feels- I hate how much I want to say it- to see them again- saying their names just reminds me of the power they had over me."

Never again, will Jung Hoseok beg for someone to give him the bare minimum. This is his lowest point. The moment where it shifts- for good.

His head is in his hands when Yoongi comes back into the room. Still sniffling, crying yet again. Yoongi sets a palm in his hair, ruffling it. Eyeing the spilled hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow.

“If you wanted coffee you could have just said so-“ he makes an attempt at levity and is rewarded with Hoseok’s small snort. Wiping his wet cheeks. Neither of them is aware of the secret. Neither of them is aware and so much worse off for it."

Hoseok grins, “Are you buying hyung?”

~-~

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Notes:

in the story there has always been this question- mainly raised by jimin during his secret chapters- if the m/c is actually in love with them or if she's just manipulating them- at the beginning of this chapter- we actually see jimin finally dispel the last bit of him that thinks even a little bit that this is the case. once he sees how much she put her body on the line- that question isn't even in the back of his mind- even a little. i ended up re-editing this part alot because of it.

every time i write something from jimin's pov i'm always like "why is everything so meandering? why are things disjointed?" and then i remember that's literally jimin's character- that he is in a lot of ways an unreliable narrator.

(TW) i have this idea in my head that namjoon DOES NOT become a good person in the event that all of them die like- a whole separate idea of him becoming a doctor for the family through yoongi's connections with the soul purpose of one day killing moonbyul and her entire pack…including their pups on accident which ends up destroying the last bit of namjoon's innocence as a person…and he ends up becoming one of the families assassins alongside jimin as a result, in this event jungkook does not stay with them and instead moves on and yoongi stays and tries to get them to stop only to ask them to kill him as their last kill because he's unable to cope with the loss of jin, hobi, the m/c and tae. BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS THAT IS NOT THIS STORY.

i think in this story there is this really interesting dynamic of femininity and death and morality- that being said red nail polish is definitely a metaphor for whose comfortable killing and who isn't. i like the contrast between tae who will never wear red nails again- vs the moon pack who all are not allowed out of the nest if their nailpolish isn't perfect like- thats another layer of the fucked up shit.

are you suprised that the m/c is going to leave? Did you see it coming from a mile away? i mean...it is in the title of the series 😈

….the parallel between hobi losing his voice and the m/c not having a voice at the beginning of the series- you can project whatever meaning you want onto that <3

also on that subject the line "Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival." it's worth mentioning that thats not what i think is the most necessary thing to their survival but it is their own interpretation of what keeps them alive. like i for one actually think that the m/c is a lot more pragmatic than anyone gives her credit for but i digress. i could go on about all of their strenghts.

what did you guys think about hobi's secret reveal???? a fair amount of people have guessed it and i think when someone got it at the beginning of the series i lied and said it wasn't- i'm allowed to be an unreliable narrator too!!! kudos to everyone who got it! i feel like it could have been revealed better and originally the big one off was slated for next chapter but i decided to shift it to this one (mostly because i think the next chapter is about to get up there in terms of word count tbh 😭) but T-T its done now! please give me praise because i'm baby and this week has honestly been really hard

#bts omegaverse au #bts a/b/o #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts gang au #bts mafia au #bts polyamory au #bts au #bts fluff #bts hurt/comfort #bts werewolf au #bts angst bts omegaverse fic #bts hybrid fic #min yoongi fic #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #kim taehyung fic #park jimin fic #jeon jungkook fic #jjk #pjm #myg #knj #kth #ksj #jhs #jung hoseok fic #min yoongi x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader

[trivia-yandere]

trivia:yandere masterlist

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

main account:explicit-tae

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

ot7 | multi-member

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

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

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

jeon | jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

kim | taehyung

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

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

park | jimin

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

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

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

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

kim | namjoon

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

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

jung | hoseok

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

min | yoongi

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

kim | seokjin

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

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

#bts smut #btswritingcafe #mafia bts #yandere bts #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #jin smut #taehyung smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #jimin smut #jungkook yandere #jimin yandere #jin yandere #yoongi yandere #taehyung yandere #namjoon yandere #hoseok yandere #btswriterscollective #btswritersclub #trivia:yandere masterlist #trivia:yandere #trivia-yandere #paid in full #nefarious

[pennyellee]

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU | MASTERLIST

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, smut, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, yandere, threatening, kidnapping, partial religious behaviour, graphic violence, graphic depictions of torture, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, implied non-con, minor character death, spanking, blood, gaslighting (more to be added)

m.list: chapter I - absquatulate 2,11K chapter II - sponsalia 6,7K chapter III - ambience 6,9K filler - Game of Go 1,5K chapter IV - ustulation 5,6K chapter V - paraprosexia 7K chapter VI - súton 11,1K chapter VII - mágoa 12K chapter VIII - chapter IX - chapter X -

cross-posted on ao3

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

©pennyellee. please do not repost

#bts #bts fic #yandere yoongi #yandere bts #yandere namjoon #soft yandere #mafia au #yandere seokjin #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #hard yandere #yandere #yandere kpop #yandere taehyung #mafia bts #lacrimosa #myg angst #dark!yoongi #min yoongi x y/n #bts x you #yoongi smut #haegeum #suga x you #suga x y/n #suga x reader #historical au #bts historical au #bts yandere au #fic:lacrimosa

[bangtangalicious]

nexus (m) part 5

focus: jungkook x reader, seokjin x reader, taehyung x reader | smut: seokjin x reader

summary: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest. after a shocking murder, a detective with a vendetta drags you into unraveling a web of dangerous lies that cause you to question who you trust, and who you love

characters: detective!jungkook, ex/bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model/gangster!hoseok, therapist!jimin

genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime/mafia!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au

wordcount: 7.5k

warnings: proceed with caution. soft yandere vibes but nothing too explicit, angst, arguing, pool sex, unprotected sex, pet names (princess), arms dealing mentions, jin has some dom energy i guess, taehyung gives solid yandere vibes tbh, choking, strip tease, masturbation, LOADs of sexual tension, flirting, a sickening amount of making out, taehyung tries to kill you but not really, manipulation, firearms, discussions of mental instability (inaccurate), power dynamics, misogyny, feelings of betrayal, heartbreak, anxiety, fainting, taehyung is cold as ice ice baby, jungkook is angsty, jin is a sexy bitch, character death

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind@toughbook@mini-euphoria-deactivated202302 @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

Your eyes fluttered open. A familiar feeling of unease sweeping over you as your mind calibrates. No longer were you dreaming of Jungkook’s strong arms around you. His fingers exploring the expanse of your skin.

His lips—his eyes, everywhere.

No.

He was a Jeon.

You couldn’t fall in love with a Jeon.

There was a shadow casting over you. At the edge of your vision, an ethereal silhouette standing in your doorway.  Enveloped in a dark silk robe. His open collarbones striking in contrast.

Eyes sharp. Precise. Memorizing you.

“Morning” You rubbed your eyes. He said nothing.

“I said good morning, Taehyung”

“It’s 3 in the afternoon” His voice was ice.

“Well,” You sat up, running your fingers over the expanse of your soft blanket. “I hope you haven’t been waiting for me”

Taehyung scoffed slightly.

“I know better than to waste my time waiting for you”

A knife twisted deep in your heart. His words were so bitter. Tone nonchalant. Running his fingers through his jet-black hair. Taking a better look, you could see the ends of his hair were damp. Beads of water on his neck.

He went to your bedside, pouring a glass of water. His arms—those subtle veins—flexing as he did. He looked up at you. His expression shifted. Glossing with rage.

The glass shattered in his hand.

“Shit” You got up, pulling him away from the shards. Brushing fragments off of his robe “Fuck Tae—”

“I see the hickeys all over your chest.” Your eyes widened.

“Excuse me?”

He reached out shamelessly, fingers tracing along your collarbone. A subtle trail of his blood. Dipping into the sweetheart of your neck. His fingers slid up to your throat, pushing your chin up with his thumb.

“Taehyung—”

His grip tightened. Every single one of his fingers wrapped around you like a vice. You could feel the hate in his touch. The resentment on his skin.

“It would be so easy to send you exactly where you belong.” The edge of his lip quirked. “In hell, with my bastard brother. You two deserve each other”

His dark eyes possessed you. You became hauntingly aware that he could probably just kill you. That 10 years of resentment and isolation would brew all kinds of complicated problems.

He released you. You gasped for air, collapsing over yourself as his menacing eyes remained steady.

“What do you want, huh?” You folded your arms over your chest, “I apologized. I begged for forgiveness. The least you can do is tell me what I’m apologizing for.”

Taehyung was younger than you. But watching the expression around his eyes you could tell he’d been through a lot. He was dark—tortured, hurting inside and all you wanted was to take it all away.

“What the hell did they do to you?” You sat back down on the edge of your bed. Taehyung towered over you. Tongue rolling against his cheek.

“Detective Jeon’s father” Taehyung started, “Killed your mother.”

Oh so we’re just diving straight in. Inhaling sharply, you gave him a nod. “I know”

Of course you knew. It was fueling your latest dilemma. Your mantra every time Jungkook kissed you so deliciously and you had to pull yourself back to the reality that he was, in fact, a Jeon.

“Well, I’m the one who saw it happen” Taehyung began to tremble slightly, sliding onto the barstool with you next to him. You set a hand on his knee. “I told hyung, because I was so fucking scared. I thought he would hurt you next. When hyung gets angry he…”

A small smile spread over your lips. You were no stranger to Jin’s anger. How terrifying he could be in the, albeit rare times he would lose his otherwise charming demeanor.

“He had me point out who killed her. He took me with him and he shot Mr. Jeon. Like a maniac. Then he turned around and told the Chairwoman that I pulled the trigger. And my mother…was furious. I think she may have been having an affair with him”

Not just an affair. You mused. She ordered the fucking kill.

But he didn’t need to know that.

“She was furious at me. I was young, and I allegedly had killed someone. Naturally, she sent me away to get psychiatric help. Jin was her shining star, of course. The first son. She believed him over me”

Taehyung’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. It reminded of you when you’d watch him doze off in your lap. He really did have such beautiful eyelashes.

“That man who was impersonating me, Dr. Park—he was on my care team. He was instructed to give me pills to keep me from being stable enough to leave the facility. Jin orchestrated all of it. He kept me locked up for 10 years, just so he could have you all to himself. I figured it out. Stopped taking meds. I figured out he was trying to impersonate me so I began to lie to him. Hoping that someone I trusted—you, Namjoon—someone would notice he wasn’t me”

You held your hands out. Reluctantly, he placed his palm against yours, letting you squeeze. His eyes flashed. They were starved for affection, you could tell. He must not have had anyone to support him. To touch him. To keep him out of his mind.

“What do you need from me to fix this?” You blinked up at him earnestly. He simply held your gaze. Words apparently caught, as he gulped. “Because I will do anything”

“Time”

Fair.

“You’ve changed” It was meant as an insult. Of course, considering what Taehyung knew of you. A naïve, innocent girl who believed in fantasies. “Do you still play cards?”

Your grip on him tightened excitedly. “I do. Would you like to play?”

He squinted at you. “Later. Detective Jeon called for you” His eyes went back to your bruised chest. You wondered how he was able to figure out so much without any words.

Letting his hand go, you rose to go get changed. Taehyung’s hand brushed against your elbow, stopping you.

“Princess” He breathed shakily.

“Yeah?” You looked back at him.

“Did you and my brother…were you together?”

You smiled. Thinking back to the last night you saw him. The sweet moments before chaos erupted.

“No” Your fingers twisted against the fabric of your tank top. “We did not get together”

Taehyung nodded, heading for your door. He slowed down, for barely a second. Not even looking at you.

Hauntingly soft, he whispered:

“I’ll always know when you’re lying to me, princess”

- The night of the murder -

His plush lips melted against yours. He kissed you like you were a craving he couldn't shake. Like those lips weren't the very same ones spewing the lies that made it impossible for you to trust him. As if he could break through to you through the tug of his teeth against your bottom lip. Or the soft breaths he'd breathe into you.

It was everything. From your fingertips to your head, every inch of you brought to life. You’d never felt anything like it. Dizzy with need, you kissed him back harder, wanting to get lost in him.

He exhaled, barely able to catch his breath. His eyes were so sincere, so in love, you felt your throat get caught. Your chest burning.

“I love you Y/n” He had said it in one fell breath, cursing as his lips continued to move against yours. You could have been flying, you’d never quite felt so high.

“I-I love you too, Jin please”

“Fuck” The growl in his voice had you weak in the knees, “Princess you say my name like that I swear I’ll” He bit into your bottom lip softly, nose tracing yours. His words were caught, and you felt him stiffen.

“So do it” You blinked at him, gripping his shirt so tight it could tear. “Come on, Jin. I won’t tell. You won’t tell.”

His hands circled your hips. Pinching the fabric, tugging at it unconsciously.

“But then what, hm? Princess? I can’t let you go once I’ve had a taste”

“So don’t let me go.” You pleaded. Jin looked away. “You hate that I am getting engaged. You hate when I flirt with your friends. You hate that I have Yoongi. You’re jealous.”

You dropped your volume “Because you want me just as bad”

Jin looked into your eyes and you swore you could see his heart breaking. He was so beautiful, so twisted and yet you adored him.

“Princess…your mother” Jin stroked your waist tenderly, speaking softly. “She didn’t like me. At all. She specifically put in her will that if you and I ever got married you would lose control of her company. Of Nexus. Otherwise”

Jin smiled in defeat, gazing into your starry eyes. “I would have made you mine the second I could”

And just like that. Nothing—nothing was going to keep off of this man.

The safehouse was surrounded by a pine forest. The air was chilly, the stars glimmering in the sky. The back pool was glowing with underlights—the blue marbling reflecting off your face as you sat poolside, legs like a pendulum, kicking against your thoughts.

Jin slowly made his way outside after making the two of you a drink.

He handed your glass to you. Clinking it against his own before you both took a sip. A mutual decision to lose inhibition.

“You okay?” His question was sincere. You stared back into the pool. The edge had a small, sleek fountain. Pouring in more and more—but never overspilling.

You downed your drink. Welcome the burn down your throat. Jin took a seat on the firm cushioned pool chair. Legs spread, resting his elbows on his thighs. Swirling the glass against his wrist as he watched you.

His chest muscles pressing against the fabric of his button-down. He had popped a few buttons open, revealing his smooth chest. The glowing light reflected in his smouldering eyes. Eyes that were on the edge of danger. One word away from snapping.

You set your glass aside. Leaning back on your palms, stretching your neck back.

“You didn’t touch me in the shower this morning”

He took another sip.

“We’re just friends”

You got up, the water dripping down your legs. Facing him. Your dress was already scrunched up, but you looked Jin straight in the eye as you hooked your fingers under the straps, letting it glide down your frame.

“You’re right” You responded. A grin hooked on Jin’s face.

“You really are beautiful, princess” His voice was breathless. His compliments only fueled you. You loved his words like they were silk ribbons against your bare skin.

Next was your panties. Dragging them down your legs—you tossed them towards Jin. Without flinching, he caught them.

He was clearly amused. Intrigued to see what you would do next. Your naked body shivered in the crisp night. Nipples hard and aching to be touched.

“You like playing games with me, right Jin? Making bets”

You jumped into the water. Wading your way to the other end of the pool.

“Sure, princess”

“Then I bet you can’t come into this water and not fuck me”

“What’s in it for me?” He tilted his head, taunting you.

“I win, you take me out of this stupid marriage deal. You win—and I’ll give you Nexus”

His eyes flashed with interest. Thumb running against his jaw and he considered your offer.

Without an answer, Jin finished off his drink. Kicking his shoes off he stepped into the pool—clothes on. Wading towards you.

You could see his chest under his shirt now—the water bleeding through the white. He approached you. Inches away. Not touching.

And then your fingers slipped into your cunt. Without leaving his gaze.

Lips parting, you gasped. You pumped yourself, your other hand falling onto Jin’s neck. His pupils widened when he realized what you were doing.

“You really have no shame”

You let out a soft laugh, but the heat in your core was overbearing. Your fingers trailed up Jin’s neck, cupping his jaw before you pushed your thumb between his lips.

And he sucked it.

Shamelessly.

You surged with wetness.

You floated closer to him still, watching the way his mouth moved, Imagining against your throbbing pussy.

You added another finger to your cunt. Jin’s tongue pushed out your thumb.

“You feel good, princess?” His voice was coarse. You bit your lip, whining as you nodded.

“Yeah” Your voice was embarrassingly whiny. “M’ wanna come”

“What’s that?” Jin taunted, his gaze darkening on you. You could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

“Wanna come…for you” You slide your mouth against his. He kissed you firmly, his hand reaching down, gripping your wrist hard and pulling you out of yourself. Replacing it with his own two fingers.

He cursed, as you clenched down on his fingers. His thumb rubbing against your clit. Slowly.

Your foreheads pressed together. Mouths open, breathing each other in.

“Wanna come”

“Not yet” Jin growled.

“Please” You whimpered softly. “Let me come”

Jin smirked, his other hand curling around your neck. “You listen to me.” He growled. “You come when I fucking tell you to come. Is that clear?”

How were you not supposed to get more turned on by that? You soaked his fingers and his grip on your throat tightened.

He pulled his fingers out so fast, it made you dizzy. The night thing you knew he was lifting you up, pulling your thighs apart so you could wrap your legs around him. His jaw slacked against your neck, sucking your skin as you cried out into the night.

“Fuck” He hissed, “You’re so hot” He cupped your breast, pushing it up to meet his lips. He sucked on your nipples in tight tugs—before widening his mouth so his tongue could flick at you.

Flipped you around—you back against his chest. The buckle of his belt pressed against the cushion of your ass. His hands fisting your breasts. Lips behind your ear.

You were so overstimulated, you wanted to cry. You could come from these teasing touches alone—and you knew he knew it. Your body was glowing despite the cool water it was submerged in. Every cell alive with desire.

He gripped your throat again, pulling you back to him so he could kiss your neck. His hair brushing against you, making you feral.

And then he unzipped his pants.

Pushed himself inside you.

“Go ahead” He ordered. “Come”

The pressure of him filling you up had you shattering. You screamed as you came all over his cock, squeezing the life out of him as he hissed violently. He didn’t move, just let you spasm with wetness while he felt every bit. You lost your balance, held up only by his fingers on your neck and breast which were still squeezing at you.

He filled you up so painstakingly good. And the fact that he just snapped so suddenly had you twitching all over. You’d never come so hard in your life.

If anyone were to see you right now, they’d see a man dressed in drenched business attire fucking a fully naked woman against a pool wall.

Fuck.

“You lost” You mumbled, reaching back to touch his cheek. You turned your face as much as you could to look into his eyes. “I won”

“I don’t give a fuck” Jin growled. “You’re mine now”

You smiled blissfully as his heavy cock dragged out of your cunt before slamming back inside you. The water in the pool spilling out over the edges. Splashing wildly.

“Jin—yes” You pouted with pleasure. “Oooh fuck, yes”

He took his time. Each thrust harder than the previous. And he watched your expression. The way your eyes rolled back, lips parted almost drooling at how good he was fucking you.

“So fucking tight for me, Princess—fuck” He dug his teeth against your ear. “You know how many times I’ve thought about this—ramming my fat cock into you while you whine and beg for me just like this”

He slid out, turning you to face him. He took a moment to smile, a look of incredulous disbelief in his electric eyes.

“My good girl” He tugged your bottom lip. “My pretty girl” His lips glued to yours. Lingering “You’re mine princess”

You nodded, humming against him. He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit—not leaving your lips for more than a second.

“Why’d you give in?” You asked him.

He slid back into you seamlessly. And you felt right at home. Gazing into his eyes, lips locked, with him inside you.

He rolled his hips, bouncing you up and down on his length. Your fingers scraping against his back. Finally grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging it. Jin hissed, biting at your lips. His hands on your ass, squeezing the flesh, digging his fingers in.

He licked your teeth, then your lips, before pushing his tongue into your mouth.

He gripped your jaw, tilting your chin up.

“Look at me, princess”

You did.

He sheathed himself inside of you. “Come”

And you exploded.

He had you on command. The power he held over you was absurd but you loved it. You loved him.

“Good girl” He stroked your face. The aftershocks consumed you as you whimpered. He coaxed you through it. “There you go, princess, you’re doing so good” Pecking kisses at the edge of your lips as you cursed out.

He slid his hand between your hot bodies, rubbing your clit as you writhed in his hold. He kept you cumming until there were tears in your eyes. And you were begging him—screaming for him to stop.

All the while, he kept digging into you. His pace picking up but his gaze never leaving yours.

And by God the way he looked at you—that was someone in love. So possessed with the flaming adoration and desire that reason flew out the door. He’d kill for you. He’d die for you. You had no doubt in your mind.

And then darkness came knocking into your mind and your high dissipated. You were supposed to kill him tonight.

Your eyes softened at him. A tear rolling down your cheek. Jin slowed his pace, looking at you with concern. He swiped the tear away with his thumb.

“Princess” He whispered, nudging your cheek, “Everything okay?”

The tears began to stream down faster. Jin move your arms so he could hold both your hands, still inside you.

“What’s wrong?” The possessive edge in his voice was evident.

You sniffled.

“I love you so fucking much Jin”

Jin buckled over, digging his nails into your wrists. You could feel the hot pressure burst between your legs.

“Fuck” He cursed loudly, pounding into you at a punishing speed as spurts of cum painted your walls.

He calmed down, pulling you into a tight embrace. Kissing the back of your shoulder.

Facing you again, cupping your face in his palms. He searched your eyes.

“The only way you’re getting engaged tomorrow is over my dead body, princess” He promised. “You’re mine now, forever”

- Present Day -

Jungkook wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see him after how the two of you left things the previous night.

Guilt seized him.

“Why exactly are you putting us in a room together?” Across the room, Park Jimin sat, handcuffed to his chair. The light hanging above illuminated his glimmering eyes. Hair tousled. “You know I can just tell her that it was you. I was Jin’s therapist—I know you two were—”

Footsteps echoed from the hall.

“Shut up.” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

He felt his heart get lighter as you walked into the room.

You. Causal. Jungkook’s cock twitched. Those little shorts that made him want to just grab at you. A long-sleeved hoodie that covered your hands. This version of you, he swore he was obsessed. The version not hiding behind all the Kim’s blood money.

Jungkook knew you were attractive. From the time he lost his breath seeing you at your engagement, until now. But right now. Despite the tiredness in your eyes. He swore you’d never looked hotter.

He reached out for your hand.

The moment you touched; both of your eyes met. Some sense of understanding passed between you.

I’m sorry.

I know. Gazing into your eyes had become such a familiar thing. He couldn’t pinpoint when, but you went from antagonizing him to being a source of comfort.

You were still a brat. And he’d tell you as much.

“Sure, don’t mind me as you eye fuck each other” Jimin’s voice interrupted the tender moment.

Jungkook's fingers intertwined with yours, forming a reassuring grip as he guided you to a seat beside him. The warmth of his touch lingered, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the inside of your wrist—a silent promise that he was there by your side.

"Y/n, Dr. Park. I want to walk through the timeline of the murder with you both to see where your stories diverge. Now, I don’t think either of you did this," Jungkook stated with a calm resolve. “I think it was Jung Hoseok.”

Jungkook felt the tension ripple through you.

He watched as you looked at Jimin. Examining him with distaste. Thoughts running rampant in your mind—he just wanted to climb inside and hear what you were thinking.

“No.” You cleared your throat. “It was me.”

“What?” Both Jungkook and Jimin were startled by the sudden confession.

“I killed Jin. Arrest me”

Jimin’s brows furrowed. Jungkook was simply shocked.

“Y/n this isn’t funny.”

You brushed off his question, pulling your hand out of his grasp. “I hated Jin. I knew about his years of scheming and lies. I knew that he was trying to get hold of my mother’s company after his mother gave everything to Namjoon. And I knew that he wanted me to get married to Taehyung so that he could deem him mentally unstable, send him away again, and steal my shares through the board once we got married”

“Y/n” Jungkook tried to get you to look at him, but you wouldn’t. Your eyes were on Jimin, communicating who knows what to that crazy manipulative bastard. “If you confess, I will actually have to arrest you”

Jimin was quick to interject. “Wait. Hoseok was there that night too, wasn’t he?”

You flinched.

“Y/n. For the love of God just walk us through what else happened that night. Don’t leave anything out. You can trust me” Jungkook urged you.

You pursed your lips. You were playing another game—he could see it in your eyes. Were you lying—why were you lying—and who exactly were you trying to protect?

“Yeah. Fine. Hobi was there. Luckily for me, because Jin and I got into an argument as I figured out what he was up to, and he got so angry that he—” You inhaled sharply “He hit me. So Hobi punched him”

A ringing struck Jungkook’s ears. He hit you. Kim Seokjin laid a hand on you.

A seething rage ran through his veins. He stood up, unable to contain the anger. Needing release.

His fists clenched as he did his best not to punch through the wall.

"That bastard. God, if he wasn't dead, I'd kill him myself,"

Your words from the previous day lingered in Jungkook's mind: "I've grown up around men like that."

For all he knew, Jin had been abusive this whole time.

Jimin smiled, “Funny you say that Detective” Jungkook shot him a look.

"I'm fine, okay. Hoseok and I go way back. He had been setting Namjoon up for months, putting the idea into his head to kill Jin by making Namjoon jealous that I was going to get engaged to Taehyung, and that it was Jin’s fault," you explained.

"Namjoon... and you?" He searched your eyes for an explanation. You avoided him once again. “Well couldn’t you have married him instead, I mean?”

Jimin chuckled, "That was Jin’s doing. Namjoon was totally in love with her. But Jin made sure that she was alienated from him after he assaulted her. He made Namjoon promise it would be Taehyung, convincing him it was what their mom wanted"

“What?” Jungkook’s jaw twitched.

“He did not assault me” You assured him, “He tricked me into giving him my virginity. How’d Jin even know about that?”

“Baby girl,” Jimin spoke steadily, “Jin knew everything about you. I wasn’t lying about the cameras. He monitored you like a hawk”

A disturbed look passed over you.

"Okay. Hoseok came and punched Jin, and then what happened? Did he shoot him? " Jungkook urged you on.

"No. I did”

Jungkook ran his hand through his hair, frustration evident. “You and me. Outside, now”

-

Jungkook directed you to an empty investigation room. Worn out and frustrated as he shut the door behind you.  

He didn’t say a word. Hands finding your hips.

Lips taking your life away.

You craved him. He groaned against your mouth, breath hot and fingers desperate. Lips tangling under a cloud of denial. Searching for a sweet escape.

“Y/n—we do need to talk—” Jungkook hissed in pleasure, forcing himself to part with you. He inhaled you, tracing his nose against your jaw as you arched your back into his touch. Chest heavy with want.

“I missed you” You moaned softly against his mouth.

Jungkook bit back a smile. Eyes ghosting from your eyelids to your lips “I’m sorry” He took on a more serious tone. His thumb running up and down your throat. “About last night”

“Jungkook, I loved last night” You spoke breathlessly. “It was the first good night I’ve had in a while”

Jungkook's fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin as he spoke. The soft glow of a nearby lamp accentuated the contours of his face, casting shadows that danced with the weight of his words.

“Why are you still lying to me, Y/n?”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your fingers found solace in the tousled strands of his hair. The scent of his cologne lingered, a familiar comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

“Have I not proved myself to you? You still don’t trust me”

“You don’t trust me either, do you?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper that hung in the charged air between you. “Are you gonna let me go?”

You nudged him with your nose, a silent plea for honesty. “Are you gonna arrest me?”

He held your gaze, a storm brewing in the depths of his eyes.

“I—” Jungkook's voice caught, emotions raw and unfiltered.

“I hate that I’m falling for you.”

Your eyes widened. His confession was wildly uncalled for and sent you into a vortex of your thoughts.

Blush painted his cheeks. Speaking from the heart was evidently new territory for him.

“And I can’t stop.”

Your heart trembled. Fuck. You felt the same. You knew it, despite everything. You didn’t think it was possible to love so soon after Jin. Jungkook wasn’t Jin. He was simple. Exactly who he showed up as. He wasn’t playing games.

You were. And you couldn’t hurt him like this any longer.

“You know this doesn’t end well, Jungkook,” you whispered, fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I have to marry a Kim to get my company back”

The realization hit you. You couldn’t marry Taehyung—Taehyung hated you. He would murder you in his sleep, and you couldn’t have that.

Your plan failed. You couldn’t blame this on Namjoon anymore. You needed him.

"You’d marry someone just for a company?" Jungkook asked, his low voice laced with disbelief and frustration. "I thought you hated the way the Kim’s controlled you. Why would you willingly tie yourself to them?"

Your shoulders tensed, a defensive response bubbling up. "It's not just about them, Jungkook. Nexus is my birthright, and I have responsibilities. It’s all I have. I can't just walk away from it because you don’t like the world it comes from"

You knew he wouldn’t understand. People like you were groomed to take over family businesses. All you wanted was revenge. On a life that robbed you of choice. To do that, you needed power. You needed Nexus.

"Why not?" Jungkook shot back, his eyes searching yours for a glimmer of understanding. "Nexus is dangerous—isn’t that the whole reason Jin was trying to keep you out of it?"

"I don't need you to rescue me, Jungkook"

His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing in a mixture of frustration and hurt. "This isn't about rescuing you! I can't stand the thought of you tying yourself to a family that's suffocating you when I could offer you something better."

"And what is that, Jungkook?" you challenged, your frustration mirroring his. "A life where I’m with the son of the man who murdered my mother in cold blood?”

Pindrop silence.

Aside from the harmony of your haggard breaths.

“What?” Jungkook’s large eyes quivered with shock. Did he really not know?

“You think your dad was killed for no good reason—well there was one. Actually.”

Jungkook looked down, “Y/n.” But you knew there was nothing he could say. He couldn’t change the fact that it happened. That the two of you had history before you’d even met.

A bitter laugh escaped you, "We could never work"

"You think I wanted this?" Jungkook exclaimed. "I despised everything about you. And I tried to resist it because I knew it would be complicated. But, fuck, I want you. You want me. I don’t know why, I don’t know when, but somewhere along the line, I stopped hating you”

Your heart melted at his words.

“And you became everything”

You stared at him. Disbelief. And then you were running into his arms. He was lifting you up into a kiss. The kind of kiss that drowns you. The desperation, the pent-up frustration from your argument—the hopelessness of what you felt for one another—was a beautiful concoction of flames dancing between you.

“Y/n” Jungkook mumbled but you wouldn’t leave his lips. Afraid if you did, the moment would end again. And you didn’t want to think. You wanted to fade away.

Your fingers slid under his shirt. Searching his muscles.

Growling lowly, Jungkook pressed you against the wall again. Eyelashes brushing against one another, his expression softened seeing your swollen lips and desperate eyes. Stay. His eyes called to you. Stay with me.

“I’m sorry” You whispered so softly, your words feathering against his skin. “I’ll go, Jungkook”

He grabbed your wrist.

“No” Jungkook closed in on you, “I’m placing you under arrest”

Hobi’s manicured nails traced along the sleek contours of a pistol. Custom made. In his pocket, he felt the vibration of his phone.

Setting the gun down on the glass table, he placed his phone against his ear.

You have a call from—

“I accept the charges” This should be good.

“He knows your name”

There was no time for greetings with you. You weren’t into the charmed bullshit like Jin was.

Hobi inhaled sharply. Fuck. If the investigation moved in his direction, everything would be at risk. All these years, he had been meticulous and careful. Flying under the radar of any and all authorities. You’d only know his truth if he was in business with you. To the world, he wore a carefully curated mask. A budding model. To explain the money.

Explain his sin-stained wealth.

You paused for a moment, “He knows you and I have known each other. He also knows you dated Jin”

The last comment was an accusation. He heard you loud and clear. He knew you well enough now after the last three years spent plotting this intricate web to recapture Nexus for you. After the Chairwoman died, he approached you. Told you the truth about Jin’s intentions.

“How long? When were you going to tell me—before or after we planned to kill him?”

Kim Seokjin was a good fuck. He talked too much for one thing, but Hobi didn’t really mind. He liked to be in control of the situation. Play both sides, if you will. Dating a man like Seokjin meant letting him think he was in charge, when in fact, the reigns were in his own hands all along. He knew about Jin’s psychotic past. His twisted quest. All of it.

Lying was natural to him. One of the first skills he learned. “I was just doing it to make sure he didn’t know what we were up to”

“But he did know. Before you showed up that night, that’s what we were arguing about. I knew what he was up to. He knew what I was up to. And I think you told him”

“Careful darling” Hobi’s voice was silk, “I’m not someone you want to play against”

“They were going to pin the murder on you but I got them off your scent because if they find out about you—they find out—”

“That your mom was a mobster” Hobi spoke plainly “And that Nexus distributes weapons”

Thus the reason Hobi knew about you. Your mother. His family. They were in business together. You’d grown up as loose family friends who lost touch as life materialized until Hobi decided to make his move. Everything precise. Everything calculated.

“Yeah. So I confessed. It was a bluff. I didn’t think he’d arrest me but”

“You poked the bear, I assume”

“We’re not pinning this on Joon. I need to marry him to get control. I refuse to marry Taehyung—swear to God that kid will kill me in my sleep. Figure something else out, or I will whip that Detective around my finger and get him to blame you for it anyway.”

Hobi felt bored, suddenly. Meaningless threats were of no consequence. He owned the police for all he cared. He was untouchable.

“I’m not sure little unhinged Taehyung will react well to you marrying Namjoon. Perhaps you should consider staying in jail. Considering you did pull the trigger”

He could feel your energy shift through the phone. And what you said next was the only time you’d ever managed to tilt him off of his high-horse.

“I did. But he didn’t die. After we left, I saw him again”

Namjoon was back in his home office, urgently responding to some emails. Even among the chaos—he still had an empire to run.

His phone rang. “What?” His tone snarky.

“Y/n’s been arrested” Hoseok’s amused voice filled his ears, “She confessed to murdering Jin”

Namjoon’s brows furrowed, “Why the hell would she do that? And why do you know about it before me?”

“Namjoon. Someone innocent is going to rot in jail for something we both know you did”

Shit. Namjoon sunk into his ergonomic chair. Hobi was right. But if he went to jail then who the hell would run the company?

“I can watch over things for you until you cut a deal. I’m sure they’ll offer you something” It was as if Hobi could read his mind. “I know you, Joonie. You won’t be able to live knowing she’s in jail because of you”

But the truth was that, Namjoon had doubts. He remembered going to the safehouse. He remembered getting into a fight with Jin—Jin who was already battered up.

He didn’t mean for him to die. He had been drunk out of his mind.

“Namjoon” Hobi was persistent, “Don’t be like Jin. Do the right thing. Confess”

Fine. Namjoon shut his laptop and reached for his keys. He hung up the phone, rushing into the hall.

“Taehyung” He searched for his younger brother. He was still reading in the same position Namjoon had seen him when he returned home. He had to tell him what was going on. You were going to come home to him and he needed to know you’d be safe.

“Y/n’s been arrested for Jin’s murder. She confessed but—” He gulped, “She didn’t do it. It was me. I killed him, because I was jealous. I didn’t want her to get engaged to…well you…and Jin was the one forcing her”

Taehyung sat, soundless. Not a word, not a breath.

“I won’t let her go down for this. I’m going to confess. I may have to serve some time in jail—but I can cut a deal. They want to get to me anyway. She will come back alone, and my friend will be watching the company but” Namjoon panted.

He kneeled in front of Taehyung, palms to his knees. “I want you to know I missed you. I know we were never very close. But I hate what happened to you, I hate our mom for it, I hate Jin for it. You’re adjusting. You’re angry, and I understand. But you need to take care of Y/n. She’s our responsibility”

Taehyung nodded, as Namjoon stood up and rushed towards the door.

“Hyung wait!” Namjoon stilled. Taehyung never called him that before.

He walked up to him, before wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Come home soon”

Namjoon’s otherwise cold heart was flush with love. He had almost forgotten what it was like to have family who cares. His eyes became teary—but he had not time.

He was going to save you.

“Dr. Park”

You sneered at the smirking face before you. In the shared cell, for the first time you faced him alone since everything went down.

“You’re so interesting, Y/n” Great. Not even here for a minute and he’s already psychoanalyzing me. “We both know you didn’t go through with it”

You sat down in front of him, making sure there was a good amount of space. He tapped against the wall aimlessly. The air was musty—even a little cold. You regretted not wearing leggings. Legs bare against the bench.

Jungkook's confession replayed in your mind like a broken record. His hopeful, big, gorgeous brown eyes turned wounded. He opened up for you. He lay down his vendetta, for you. And you simply couldn’t do the same.

Because this is so much bigger than him.

“You can tell me what’s wrong you know” Jimin said. For once, his voice wasn’t laced with amusement. “I know you don’t trust me, but I am a therapist”

“Why’d you even do this?” You spat, hugging your arms against your stomach. “What was in this for you?”

Jimin smiled. “Jin was unlike any of my other patients. He asked a favor, and honestly I was just so interested to see how this would all play out. It’s a house of cards blowing over. Brick by brick”

You frowned. “What would have happened if we didn’t figure it out? Were you planning on actually marrying me? Living with me for the rest of your life?”

Jimin shook his head. “That was never the plan. He needed someone to show up at the wedding. Jin never let Taehyung out because he was terrified that Taehyung would want revenge. So I was to stand in. Get married to you, and then disappear. After all, Jin wanted you to himself but he didn’t want to share you. He can’t marry you—it ruins his plans. After I’d disappear, Jin would say that Taehyung was back in in-patient treatment to the board and take your shares”

You raised your eyebrows. “My mom ran nexus without a man by her side for years. I don’t understand why I had to get married to get access to them”

Jimin clicked his tongue. “That was Jin’s doing. Chairwoman Kim oversaw your trust while you were in her guardianship. Jin leveraged the threat of Taehyung to get her to add the provision. Jimin grinned widely, “Then he killed her”

Your mouth went dry.

“Slowly—and made it look like cancer. But she also knew it was coming, so she didn’t give him the company. Kim’s will do what they do” Jimin marveled, almost in admiration. It made you sick.

Something in your gut twisted so violently, you wanted to hurl.

“And Hobi” You went on despite your state, “When did that start?”

“Oh that had been going on for a long time” Jimin waved his hand, “On and off. They were a bit toxic.”

“Did Jin know…about Hobi?”

“You mean who his family was? Of course he did. He knew about Hobi and Hobi helped him plot all this out. Later, Hobi said he found out you knew everything—I don’t think Jin knew you two knew each other. But they both stood to gain. If Jin got control of Nexus, Hobi and he would be in business together. Though in my opinion I think Hobi was also planning some sort of seduce, marry, kill type thing to expand his own power”

Was there even a single person in your life who was ever honest with you? A stampede trailblazed over your chest. You were bleeding out on the inside so much that it all began to go quiet. All began to feel numb.

“Why wouldn’t Jin just ask me for Nexus? Why go through all this—he knew I’d do anything for him?”

“Y/n, I’m a doctor. I work with intense patients and sometimes in in-patient facilities. People who see me are truly twisted. You can’t hope to understand why they act the way they do. Besides, your mom had gone to great lengths to make sure that Jin specifically kept his paws off you”

Why? You thought back. If your mother hated Jin why would she have let you spend so much time with him? With his family. The two of you had been inseperable.

“Wanna know something else that’s fun?”

You glared at him.

“Jin truly, genuinely believed that everything he was doing was for you”

Don’t say it. You looked down, blinking back tears.

“He loved you. He wanted to keep you safe. Away from gun dealers and mob life. He just wanted you to have everything you wanted without a care in the world. Jury’s still out on if it’s romantic—or just insane”

Namjoon burst into the precinct. Jungkook was at his desk, staring blankly at the screen in front of him. “It was me. Not her. I killed Jin. There you go. Let her go right fucking now” He went on to corroborate his story. It matched up. Him being drunk, arriving at the safehouse no doubt after you and Hoseok had left. A gun was there. Jin was already down. And Namjoon had oh so much motive.

Jungkook couldn’t help but wonder if all your lies and games had just been to protect Namjoon. You acted so indebted to this family of psychopaths—after what Namjoon did to you you were trying to keep him out of Jail?

He was thrilled suddenly. Namjoon away meant you were free. You wouldn’t be able to marry him, not yet—and he had time to show you that you belonged with him. Away from these freaks.

“Okay” Jungkook said, satisfied with the confession. He motioned to guards to take Namjoon into the cell. You and Jimin both were dragged out in exchange.

“You’re free to leave” Jungkook looked down, pretending to shift around the papers on his desk. He couldn’t look you in the eye—the pain was still too tender. Jimin didn’t need to be told twice. He fled immediately. But you, you stayed.

Jungkook looked up at you, annoyed. “What?” He was back to the spiteful tone with which he spoke to you when the two of you had just met.

“I know you hate me” You said quietly. Jungkook noticed the queasy look in your eyes, “But Jimin just told me—everything. And Taehyung is at home who terrifyies me. I guess what I’m asking is—”

“Thought you can take care of yourself”

There was real, raw hurt in your eyes. Jungkook felt a little guilty. He knew this had all been emotionally traumatic for you. He’d seen you fall apart and put yourself back together again multiple times already.

“Jungkook” You gripped the edge of his desk, losing your balance. Alarms went off in his chest. His pride dissipated as you fainted—he rushed to catch you before you hit the floor.

The light began to filter through your eyelids. Slowly you blinked, trying to understand your surroundings.

There he was. Your shadow.

“You’re awake”

Even lying on a hospital bed, Kim Taehyung didn’t give a flying fuck about you. Great.

“I’m glad”

You struggled to sit up as Taehyung neared you. He gently traced the edge of your face. His fingers were tender. Soft. You leaned into his touch.

“Don’t do that ever again” His voice dropped low. Flattening his palm against your cheek, his thumb brushed against the edge of your lips, “I can’t lose you”

Your lips parted in shock. His face was serious as ever.

“Also, there’s something you should know” He stood up, turning his back to you. Staring intently out the window.

Your chest seized with concern. You wondered what happened to Jungkook—if he was alright. You assumed he was the one who brought you to the hospital.

“Dr. Park was found dead last night” Taehyung paused. “He was murdered”

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

a/n: its been a while since ive written so! pls let me know what you think!! scream with me!! who are you suspicious of! who are you falling for! i wanna know ;)

thank you for reading <3

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[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | Chapter One

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 1,3k

Warnings | +18, explicit language, kidnapping, yandere, use of a sleep-inducing substance (not specific which one), mentions of prostitution

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 | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Here is the spin-off of Happy Ending, I hope you like the first chapter! 🥰 I would like to warn you, Jimin in this story will not be kind and soft like Jungkook from Happy Ending, he is very cruel and selfish, he is a hard yandere

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Next

2020.

Three years ago.

According to Kim Seokjin's rules, the choice of a whore was something very important. The girls chosen had to meet very specific requirements, such as not having anyone who would one day - following their disappearance - look for them. Seokjin did not want any trouble, and Jimin was not about to give him any. He took a long, deep drag from his cigarette, inhaling its bitter addiction, before blowing a thick, white cloud of smoke out the car window. He stretched his gloved hands over the steering wheel, waiting for the next move. Namjoon, at his side, checked that the situation outside was okay -nothing was moving in that neighborhood, not even the shadow of a stray cat - and this created the perfect moment. "Are you ready, Jimin?" asked the older man, beginning to prepare everything needed. The dark-haired boy's eyes sparkled, he nodded confidently as he adjusted his coat. One last glance at the clock and shortly after exactly 1 a.m. they got out of the car, long strides on the asphalt counted only by the ticking of their smart shoes. Seeing them, anyone would have said they were two well-to-do men about to attend an important event, except to glance at the squalor of the houses shrouded in darkness around them. Namjoon carried a dark briefcase in one hand; Jimin walked confidently beside him before turning into a small, narrow, grim alley.

"They have to stay here, don't they?" asked Namjoon, observing the crumbling building. "That's what they wrote," confirmed Jimin, finding the lobby door already wide open; it was a low-level Motel, it wouldn't take long. They found a guy half asleep behind the counter, the two exchanged a glance of understanding before Jimin approached the man in his forties striking him dryly in the back of the head, the latter only having a chance to let out a choked scream before passing out completely. "Thanks, man," sneered the boy, beginning to look up the names he was interested in in the register, along with the room number and corresponding key. He nodded to Namjoon when he had everything and they went up to the indicated floor. Jimin's alert and shrewd eyes immediately found what he was looking for, he pointed the door to his taller friend and together they opened it, they found the lights off, but they were trained to see even in the dark so they went straight to the two beds in the middle of the old and stale room, it was clear that such a Motel could not have all the comforts and amenities with what little they paid, there were not even cameras, it was an unsuitable and unsafe place for young girls like those asleep in those beds, Jimin thought with a grin.

Namjoon set the briefcase down on the floor, retrieving ready-made syringes from it, handed one to his friend and headed for one of the beds, Jimin chose for himself the one near the window and as the filtering neon sign light increasingly put the young girl's sleeping face on display, he inspected the young girl's face carefully, drinking in the sight of her softly parted lips and the warm breath rhythmically lowering and raising her chest. He lowered himself slightly to her neck, cautiously inhaling the light scent of roses emanating from her inviting skin. Namjoon, meanwhile, had already finished gently injecting the pinkish liquid into the other girl's arm, the substance would send her to sleep for a few hours, and Jimin should have hurried to do the same, too bad that he was merely gazing longingly at the woman, completely rapt. Namjoon noticed this and with a shade of reproach in his voice, called him to his senses. "Jimin, get a move on! Don't let your cock harden just now," he scolded him in a low, irritated tone. The young man puffed slightly, before uncorking the loaded syringe, unfortunately not accounting for the girl's light sleep, who squinted her eyelids as if disturbed by the presence looming over her with the eyes of a hawk.

She thought she was dreaming, but the figure of Jimin took a distinct and material form in her field of vision, which at first glance left her speechless.

Then a shrill scream left her throat, she tried to pull away, but Jimin was immediately on her, trying to block her, Namjoon caught up with an expletive clenched between his teeth and grabbed the girl by the shoulders, pushing her against the bed, the latter only in time to kick like a horse, managing to hit Jimin at jaw level, which pissed him off in no small measure, without any kindness or regard he stuck the needle of the syringe on her exposed thigh thanks to her pajama shorts, it penetrated the skin like butter and the girl stiffened screaming in pain, she fainted from shock without needing to wait for the injection to take effect. Namjoon let go a sigh before staring furiously at Jimin, who was touching the affected area with glacial eyes fixed on his victim. "What the fuck has gotten into you! Did you have to give her time to wake up?" he hissed, his silver hair glowing with the neon light outside, and Jimin gritted his teeth at the saintly appearance he was displaying at that moment. "I didn't think she'd wake up so easily, okay?" he blurted out, before pulling the girl's body to himself without any care, Namjoon shook his head before retrieving the other one more gently, the one had been good the whole time and he hoped the other Motel patrons hadn't heard the screams.

They should have moved in complete silence inconspicuously, but Jimin did not know what silence was, evidently. They went out with a placid step, from the other doors they heard absolutely nothing. Perhaps they were not occupied rooms, or most likely no one wanted to risk their skin to go and see what had happened to the girls, it was still a bad neighborhood that one. Jimin held the unconscious body rigidly in his arms, full of lividity. When he had watched her sleep he had called her a tender little angel in his head, well he was wrong, and very wrong, too. The bitch squealed like a goose and he would have loved to stretch her neck, which Namjoon wouldn't let him do anyway, they served without the slightest bruise to the Dark Moon. They arrived at the car without further trouble, even the road had remained deserted, and loaded the bodies into the back seats. "Let's get out of here before something else happens," muttered the friend, Jimin huffed annoyed, getting back into the driver's seat. "You're making it too tragic, no one heard us," he said, earning an angry look. "Because it was a sleazy Motel, you make all that noise in a normal house and see if no one hears you."

Jimin waved a hand, as if to say that he didn't give a shit about Namjoon's worries, bit his own lower lip piercing as he drove taking semi unfamiliar roads to leave no trace of himself. It would not happen again, after all. Yes, it hardly ever happened that he got a hard cock in the middle of a kidnapping on behalf of the Dark Moon, that had been new for him as well. He cast a glance at the other girl as well, but she said absolutely nothing to him, his body seemed to be attracted to the bitch who had kicked him, this made him even more irritated. "Should we take them to the warehouse?" The warehouse was an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere, they used it to hide their equipment, but also often to torture and kill, or as in this case, keep the goods cool just long enough to make decisions about them, it was convenient and practical. "Yes, Jungkook said that Seokjin will lose time at the Dark Moon, there have been clients giving the girls trouble and he is cutting some names off the list," Namjoon replied, reading their maknae's messages. Jimin nodded, taking the last descent of that country road that would lead them straight to the warehouse.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts yandere #jimin x reader #yandere jimin x reader #bts yandere smut #bts smut #bts smut yandere #bts yandere fanfiction #bts fanfic #jimin yandere #jimin yandere x reader #yandere bts #bts x reader #yandere bts x reader #park jimin x reader #yandere #bts gang au #bts gangster au #jimin fanfiction yandere #bts mafia au #namjoon yandere #taehyung yandere #jungkook yandere #hoseok yandere #seokjin yandere #yoongi yandere #bts fanfiction smut

[theharrowing]

Collateral 🗡️ POV: Taehyung

In the aftermath of the latest attack, Taehyung patches everyone up, then rips a man apart for information.

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

❗ THIS IS A CHARACTER POV CHAPTER!!!

if you do not wish to perceive any POV that is not the main character, please feel free to skip this one!

🗡️Taehyung x Jungkook

🗡️ word count: 10.9k

🗡️ mafia au, violence & gore, established relationship, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit, 21+

🗡️ warnings: this chapter is very violent & gory!!! Taehyung has a katana & it is still inside the man he stabbed; lots of blood; the briefest mention of past abuse by Yoongi's father; Yoongi has been shot off screen; tending to Yoongi's wounds; Taehyung & Jungkook have a hostage; threatening a man with a gun; some technical anatomy & doctor jargon since we're in Taehyung's head; Taehyung & Jungkook really enjoy torturing people...if you catch my drift; pain play including pressure on genitals; use of a bone saw!!!; use of lye on wounds; improper use of an epipen; body dismemberment; a touch of dissociation; rough shower sex (bottom Jungkook, top Taehyung); use of restraints.

🗡️ notes: mc is referred to in 3rd person (she/her) pronouns for this chapter! this opens just after the chapter where they are chased in cars, there is gun fire, and Taehyung runs a katana through a man! i researched bone saws for this chapter!!! it is violent right out of the gate.

🗡️ early draft beta read by @neoneunnajimin - with minor unbeta’d edits done since.

🗡️ posted april 2024 - originally may 2023 | read on ao3

"What is the matter with you?" Jeongguk shouts, panting and sounding somewhat frantic.

Every inch of Taehyung buzzes—vibrates with an energy he only gets when he is covered in another man's blood. The tail lights of Namjoon's sedan drive further away, and Taehyung is fixated on them, watching as the red dots become smaller and smaller before fading entirely.

"Be more specific," Taehyung mutters as he slowly slides his katana from the man whose hair he holds tightly in his fist, feeling the weight of him drag down as his body continues to convulse and fully lose consciousness. 

"You're gonna fucking scar buttercup, you idiot," Jeongguk grumbles as he yanks away the dead man and throws him aside. "She did not need to watch you gut this man."

Taehyung's arm stays suspended in the air for a split moment, then he drops it to his side and looks up at Jeongguk. Jeongguk's hair is disheveled, face is smeared with blood and dirt, and he is the prettiest fucking thing Taehyung has ever laid eyes on. 

"She's stabbed a man before," Taehyung reasons, unsure what the big deal is. Sooner or later, she is going to need to become a hardened killer too. Or hide away in the brothels with little Jimin. 

With a sigh, Jeongguk grabs Taehyung's bicep and roughly pulls up, attempting to lift him. But the blood that covers him makes it impossible for Jeongguk to get a good grip, causing Taehyung's arm to slide away. 

"Get up!" Jeongguk sounds pained, or possibly angry. "Yoongi-hyung is hurt."

At that, Taehyung's heart seems to jolt in his chest and every nerve sparks with panic. Taehyung looks up and searches Jeongguk's face for any hint that he is joking or exaggerating. 

"Why didn't you lead with that?" Taehyung practically shouts as he scrambles to his feet, holding his katana pointed to the ground. 

Frantically, he looks around, trying to listen for where Yoongi could be, but everything around them is unusually quiet. That, or Taehyung's ears are ringing too loudly. 

"He's not seriously injured, but he has been shot in the chest, over the vest. And a bullet grazed his hand."

This news is shocking to Taehyung, and he allows Jeongguk to drag him off to where Yoongi is sitting against a sedan with Seokjin and Hoseok huddled on either side. Not since he was a teenager has Yoongi been shot. Of everyone, he has come away with the fewest injuries overall—with the exception of those left by his father. 

Yoongi holds a hand over the center of his chest, leaning forward and catching his breath. A weak smile tugs on his face, and as they approach, the loud ringing dulls enough for Taehyung to hear him say, "I'm fine, really."

"I'll take you to my place to check it out," Taehyung insists as he crouches before Yoongi, places the sword onto the pavement, and lifts his injured hand. 

Sure enough, from the thenar web space between Yoongi's thumb and index finger, up to the scaphoid bone on his outer wrist is a shallow gash left by a hot bullet. The skin is opened and slightly cauterized shut, leaving behind a hell of a red mark. 

"How do you feel otherwise?" Taehyung asks, assessing Yoongi to make sure his vision seems clear at a glance. "Can you take in a deep, slow breath for me?"

Yoongi nods and smiles, then sucks in air. Although his inhale is shaky, undoubtedly from a bruised bone, he does not seem to be in dangerous levels of pain, leading Taehyung to hope that the bullet has, in fact, only bruised him, and that there is no internal bleeding. 

Taehyung reaches into his slacks pocket and pulls out a thin flashlight the size of a pen, then presses a button on the end of it, lighting it up. He holds the light just under Yoongi's right eye and says, "Eyes on me, boss," as he slowly lifts the light and watches Yoongi's pupil constrict, becoming smaller. Then he holds the light just under Yoongi's left eye and does the same, yielding the same result. 

"No immediate sign of a concussion," Taehyung says as he clicks the flashlight off and shoves it back where it belongs, catching a little metal hook on the end of it to the material of his pocket so that it stays snug. "Alright, let's get you up and into a vehicle. Jeongguk and I will take you home."

Seokjin and Hoseok stand and take a step back, and Taehyung looks upward, glancing between them, "Are you two good?"

"Yeah," Seokjin responds, and Hoseok mutters, "I'm good."

"Good," Taehyung says as he stands, then he turns to Seokjin and asks, "And did you manage to keep one alive for me?"

With a grin, Seokjin tilts his head to the left, toward Taehyung's vehicle, and says, "Knocked out and bound. He's all yours."

"Perfect," Taehyung responds, feeling a thrill quake through him. "Thanks, hyung."

* * *

A little over halfway to the mansion, the man in the back seat begins to stir. First, he makes a low grumble, and then he begins to whimper. Taehyung glances through the rearview mirror and waits for the man to notice him before he snarls.

"Good morning, sunshine," Taehyung says, watching as the man becomes frantic, attempting to thrash. 

Jeongguk, who sits beside the man, pulls a gun from his thigh holster and lifts it, cocking the hammer nice and loud. Taehyung finds it difficult to keep his eyes on the road, absolutely enthralled by the anger in Jeongguk's eyes while he points the gun in the man's face.

"I will paint the window with your brain if you don't shut the fuck up," Jeongguk practically growls, pressing the weapon against the man's head. 

All this does is make the man squeal more, and from the passenger seat, Yoongi huffs out an impatient sigh. Taehyung glances over to find Yoongi sitting stiffly with his head pressed into the seat, staring ahead. He cannot tell how Yoongi's breathing is only from a glance, but he does not hear any labored breaths, so he continues to drive without pressing him. 

Whoever the man in the back seat is, he does not deserve the pleasure of overhearing that one of his men has managed to injure Boss Min. Even if he does only have a few more hours to live. 

It is unusual for Yoongi to be so quiet, especially with a hostage present, so Taehyung imagines he must be pretty sore. He had not bothered to turn in his seat to have a look at or taunt the man, as he is usually wont to do. Taehyung wonders who this man is and whether he knows who Yoongi is. He supposes he will find out soon enough. 

In the back seat, the man has quieted down, but continues to mutter into the tape over his mouth. They are less than a mile from the property now, and Taehyung speeds up, gradually pressing his foot on the accelerator and listening as the engine hums. Nobody is ever on this stretch of road; nobody who knows who this road belongs to would dare. 

As soon as his mansion comes into view over a low hill, Taehyung lets up on the gas a little, taking the hill at enough speed that it rattles the vehicle. He remembers too late that his boss is injured; he is always so eager for the light-headed rush that comes from flying over the hump that he was only focused on the thrill. But Yoongi says nothing beside him, hands clasped over his lap while he stares ahead. 

"Sorry, boss," Taehyung mutters anyway.

"I always do it, too," Yoongi responds, and Taehyung glances over to find a small smile pulling at his lips. 

Silence falls a little longer, and Taehyung slows to approach the driveway, turning to the right and stopping before a large metal gate. He pulls down the visor and punches an eight-digit code—Jeongguk's birth year, month, and day—then waits as the gate opens. 

"How long have we known each other?" Yoongi asks, taking Taehyung by surprise. 

Taehyung glances to find Yoongi staring ahead, looking pensive. 

"A long time," he responds, unsure exactly how many years it has been. Somewhere around fifteen, he surmises. 

Yoongi hums, and Taehyung pulls into the circular drive, parking the sedan parallel to the garage. He shuts off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and turns to Yoongi, who slowly reaches to undo his own belt.

"A long time," Yoongi repeats with a soft smile, then he reaches for the handle and opens the door, letting himself out. 

Ordinarily, Taehyung would cause a fuss and insist on Yoongi waiting for help, but he knows better. Yoongi is not going to appear weak in front of the man in the back seat. He does groan when he gets out, however, and Taehyung takes note of the sharp intake of breath as he steps onto the driveway and rotates to shut the door. 

"Do you need help with him?" Taehyung asks, voice coming out a little more gruff than he expected it to. He glances into the rearview mirror and finds Jeongguk eyeing the man and shrugging. 

"Nah, I got him. Take care of the boss and I'll drag this shithead inside when you're ready."

With a nod, Taehyung opens his door and slides out, slamming it shut and jogging around the back of the sedan to get to the front door of his house before Yoongi does. He punches the years Yoongi and Jeongguk were born into the keypad, then stares into the retina scanner, feeling impatient to get inside.

"That pass code is weak," Yoongi grumbles, making Taehyung scoff. 

"You always say that, boss," Taehyung responds as he twists the knob and reaches a hand high to hold the door open as Yoongi enters.

Yoongi hobbles inside, hugging his arms around his chest, then he approaches the wall beside the door and leans back while taking a deep breath, staring down at his feet. Taehyung approaches, letting the door close behind him, and takes a knee, smacking Yoongi's slowly lowering hands out of the way before untying his right boot and then his left. 

"I can do it," Yoongi grumbles, and Taehyung glances up to watch Yoongi look at the ceiling and let out a deep sigh.

"What do you always tell us?" Taehyung asks as he holds onto the heel of the right boot and keeps it still for Yoongi to pull his foot free. 

"I tell you a lot of things," Yoongi responds as Taehyung grabs the left heel, "most of which you do not bother to listen to."

As Yoongi pulls his left foot free, Taehyung looks up, raising his eyebrows as if he has been insulted, though unable to keep himself from smiling. 

"You and I both know that is not true, boss," Taehyung says, watching as Yoongi stares down incredulously. "You always tell us not to try to do everything alone, isn't that right?"

Yoongi hums and scoffs, then wraps his arms around his torso. He appears to have a lot on his mind, but Taehyung does not want to prompt him to tell him what it is. In the years he has known Yoongi, he has come to learn that the man will only divulge what he wants when he wants to. 

Taehyung shifts his weight back and unties his left boot, then he adjusts to untie the right boot and stands. His legs and back feel tired, and he lets out a slow exhale as he kicks the boots off and leads Yoongi down into his basement. 

With a press of a button near the ramp that leads down, everything glows a hot, blue-white. The fluorescent lighting is bright, taking Taehyung's tired eyes a moment to adjust to as he wraps an arm around Yoongi's shoulder and guides him down to the next level, slowly taking one step at a time. 

Silence hangs, thick and oppressive, buzzing through Taehyung much in the way he imagines gas and mercury buzzing through the bulbs overhead. He does not mind the silence—preferring it to filler bullshit—but Yoongi's demeanor has him worried. No use dwelling on it, he decides as he leads Yoongi into an exam room just off to the right of the main room. 

Taehyung's basement is massive, stretching further than his house, in the direction of the main mansion. If someone were to dig a hole into the shrub maze in Yoongi's garden, they would likely end up in the worst part of Taehyung's estate. The main room is a large sterile white space with doors on the right leading into an exam room, an operating room, and storage rooms. 

Through the space, straight ahead, is a steel door that leads to an area of the property that men only go to in order to die.

They walk into the first room on the right, and Taehyung flips on a switch, casting more bright, fluorescent light.

"Have a seat," Taehyung says as he guides Yoongi over to the examination table and waits for him to turn around and get situated.

Once Yoongi sits, he drops his hands to his sides, and Taehyung makes quick, careful work of unstrapping the bulletproof vest. The velcro is loud as it tears apart, seemingly echoing throughout the otherwise empty room. Yoongi raises his arms, wincing from the motion, and Taehyung slowly lifts the vest, doing his best to slide it away and not add any additional pressure to the center of his chest. 

"How is the pain?" Taehyung asks while setting aside the vest and taking Yoongi's wrists to slowly help him lower his arms. Even if it is just a bruise, the ribs can still hurt, and the movement can put strain on the injury.

"Fucking sucks," Yoongi grits through his teeth as his arms rest at his sides, "but it is manageable. Just need a valium and a bath and I will be fine."

"I'm surprised you took a bullet at all," Taehyung mutters before he can stop himself. 

Silence hangs, then Yoongi snickers and responds, "Even dexterous monkeys fall from trees sometimes, Taehyungah."

Of all the animals in the kingdom, Taehyung cannot imagine likening his boss to a monkey. A lion, perhaps. Or a leopard. 

Taehyung hums as he begins unbuttoning Yoongi's shirt, revealing a black tee underneath. As he slides away the garment, he wonders if they should just cut away the undershirt to save Yoongi some trouble, but Yoongi shrugs the material off and slowly begins to lift his shirt, pulling it up until it reveals a nice red welt right in the center of his chest. 

Bruising is minimal, but the area is raised and irritated. Taehyung decides that he can assess the injury without fully undressing Yoongi, so long as he is able to hold the cloth in place. 

"Would you describe the pain as sharp or dull?" Taehyung asks as he turns to grab a stethoscope from the table to his right and situate the ear pieces into his ears. 

"Not sharp," Yoongi responds. "Not quite dull either. But it doesn't feel like anything is broken."

Taehyung walks around the operating table and lifts the back of Yoongi's shirt a bit higher, muttering, "This might feel cold against your skin," as he touches the stethoscope beside his right scapula. 

"Deep breath in," Taehyung instructs, listening as Yoongi does as he is told. There is nothing indicating any sort of injury; his oxygen flow sounds smooth and unobstructed. Taehyung lowers the stethoscope, following the scapula bone shape down, instructing Yoongi to take another breath and then another, then repeating it on the other side, carefully listening to his lungs. Once he is satisfied, he pulls off the stethoscope and slowly lowers Yoongi's shirt. 

"Sounds good, but I want to take an x-ray to be sure," Taehyung grumbles as he walks back around to the front of the table.

Yoongi stands from the table, sighing as he says, "Of course you do," then he empties his pockets of his phone and wallet, removes his Rolex, and drops everything onto the exam table before exiting the room. 

He takes a right, leading the way through Taehyung's basement as if he owns the place, making Taehyung smile to himself over the man's impatience. Taehyung sets the stethoscope down onto the spot where Yoongi had been sitting and follows behind, out to the right, past the operating room to the third door on the right. 

Yoongi is already in position in front of the detection panel with his back to the x-ray machine, lights turned on. Taehyung smiles to himself and walks through the small, sterile white room, through a lead door, and into a much smaller room. 

Lead walls and windows shield him from radiation, and in the confined space, there is only a small desk with a computer, a tablet, and a microphone for a two-way intercom. Taehyung, however, keeps the door open, not concerned about radiation since it is rare that he uses imaging equipment these days. 

With the flip of a few switches, the equipment buzzes to life, and Taehyung settles back in a black leather chair as he uses a computer program to align the camera with Yoongi's chest and takes an x-ray. A tablet sitting to the right of the computer lights up with a notification that the image has been received and Taehyung lifts it, opens the photograph, and has a look. 

Meanwhile, Yoongi begins to hobble out of the room, to a small black couch that sits just on the other side of the door to wait, as he has become accustomed to doing. Taehyung chuckles and shakes his head, then returns his attention to the image.

There is no sign of fracture on the sternum, for anything to indicate a fracture in any of Yoongi's ribs, and Taehyung stands with the tablet in hand and leaves the lead room, walking past the equipment and out into the large, empty outer room. 

"Looks good, hyung," Taehyung says as he passes the tablet over and lets Yoongi have a look. "Since the area is likely just bruised, you should feel better after a warm shower and some rest. Take some painkillers, and don't put too much strain on yourself."

"Thanks, doc," Yoongi responds, lifting the tablet for Taehyung to take, which he does. 

"Now would be a good time for that vacation you have been talking about."

Yoongi nods his head, tired eyes staring straight ahead at the plain white wall. 

"Perhaps one of Jimin's rooms in Paris is free," Taehyung suggests, making Yoongi nod more. 

The seven of them own penthouse suites here and there, sprinkled across various continents, and he imagines both Namjoon and buttercup would be easily charmed by the city of love.  

"Jimin has been in Paris for the last few days, laying low and taking some time for himself," Yoongi says. "I'll get in touch and see if we can use one of his suites. Perhaps a night in the city with him will be good for our darling, too."

Jimin is in Paris? This is news to Taehyung. Although Jimin's absence has been felt lately, he prefers not to pry, but he is surprised to learn that his friend is on the other side of the globe. Taehyung hopes he is doing well. 

"We have the meeting with The Tigers in Hong Kong," Yoongi mutters, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. "I'll plan a trip from Hong Kong to Paris for a long weekend. Think you and Jeongguk can hold things down here while we're away?"

Taehyung chuckles, hums a soft, "Mmhmm," and turns, entering the x-ray room to return the tablet to its home and shut the equipment down. As he switches off the last set of lights and pulls the door to the room closed, Yoongi stands, pressing his palms into his knees with a deep sigh. He holds out a hand to help keep Yoongi steady in case he needs it, hovering it around his lower back. 

"I want to clean this hand wound, and bandage it a little so that the sight of it doesn't freak buttercup out," Taehyung says, using his fingertips against the palm of Yoongi's hand to encourage him to lift it. 

The wound is not too deep, and Taehyung leads Yoongi back into the first room, then grabs and rips open an antiseptic wipe packet, rubbing it over the surface of the wound to clean it. He grabs and unwraps a sterile pad while the antiseptic takes a moment to air dry, then he places it over the wound, positioning it diagonally so the entirety is covered, and gently wraps the hand in bandage tape that sticks to itself. 

Yoongi opens his fingers and squeezes them tightly closed, seemingly pleased with his range of motion, then he stands and begins to gather the items he discarded before having the x-ray,  dropping everything into his slacks pockets. Slowly, Yoongi slides his arms into his black button-up, and Taehyung helps him situate it over his shoulders.

"Let's get you home," Taehyung says as he wraps an arm around Yoongi's lower back, leading him back out to the main room and shutting off the light in the exam room. "I'm going to take care of our little friend. Anything you want me to ask him?"

Yoongi shrugs. "Just need a name or motive. I have a feeling I already know what this is about."

As they walk through the basement, toward the ramp leading up, Taehyung gives Yoongi's side a gentle squeeze, smiling when Yoongi leans into his side for a brief moment. He wishes they had more moments like this, with just the two of them, minus the injury. But, as it is, they both seem to have their hands full. 

"Do you think The Tigers will be able to handle the operations better than we have, if they decide to take over?" Taehyung asks as they walk up the ramp, to the foyer. He reaches to switch off the lights to the lower level, blinking as his eyes adjust to less light. 

"I think they are more than capable," Yoongi responds in a tone so flat, there is nothing to glean from it but the words themselves.

Taehyung nods, then asks, "And tonight...do we think this has anything to do with the men Jeongguk took out? Or do we think it is a personal attack from Ryujin?"

Yoongi hums, releases himself from Taehyung's hold, and turns to lean against the wall. Taehyung begins to crouch to retrieve Yoongi's boots, but Yoongi swats his hands away, letting out deep, long breaths as he bends. 

"Just give me time to do it," he mutters, so Taehyung nods and retrieves a pair of athletic slides, then he stands and joins Yoongi with his butt against the wall, sliding his feet into one sandal at a time.

By the time Taehyung is standing straight against the wall, Yoongi has his first boot tied, and Taehyung relaxes his shoulders and waits. 

"Seokjin thinks Ryujin may no longer be in charge of the Busan operations," Yoongi says after a pause, still bent in half.

"Oh?" Taehyung asks, not entirely surprised. He has heard whispers of such a thing. 

Yoongi hums, then stands still with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Taehyung is happy to see his range of motion is not inhibited too much, and continues to patiently wait. 

"He is working on gathering more information. Hopefully Hyunjin will have some insight, and we can sit down and talk with him once we have him safely in hiding."

"Ah," Taehyung responds, remembering a conversation about their informant finally being pulled out. 

He wonders if they plan on sending anyone new in his place, but does not ask. Information like this hardly leaves the small circles in which it is discussed until plans have been set in motion and they can safely discuss it openly. It took two years for him to learn they had an informant there, in the first place. 

"But to answer your question," Yoongi continues, sliding his foot into the second boot, "and to bring all of this mess—for lack of better term—together," he sighs heavily, "it is not that I think The Tigers can handle things better, necessarily, but if Ryujin, or whomever, does call for war, I do not want Jeongguk on the frontlines. Not only is he reckless and too willing to charge into a scenario like that headfirst, but he is our maknae. I found him as a kid dazed and scared on the street, covered in another man's blood, and I promised myself that nothing terrible would befall him again. Of course, I have failed at keeping that promise…but if I can keep him alive and healthy, I will do whatever it takes."

Relief washes over Taehyung and he rests his head back against the wall, letting out a deep exhale. He knows that Yoongi loves Jeongguk, and that protecting him has always been a priority, but he is glad that steps are being taken to pull Jeongguk out of operations that have kept him close to Busan. The guy is far too smart to be in charge of drug running, and it is high time he is given more responsibility that keeps him close to home. 

Perhaps Taehyung is selfish, but he does not want his Jeonggukie constantly traveling to the shore and back. He wants him here, where he belongs. If anything were to happen to Jeongguk, Taehyung would raise every demon from hell and burn this city and every building from here to the shore down to the fucking ground. 

"Nobody is more brilliant at logistics than Jeongguk," Yoongi continues, bent in half again and slowly tying his second boot. "Having him oversee drug operations has been monumental in our financial success, and thanks to him, the clubs have more high-spending clientele. Our success—that which we gained, and which was not passed down from the old man—is largely thanks to him. He has worked hard, and it is time for him to rest."

The thought of Jeongguk resting makes Taehyung chuckle. "You know that of all of us, he is the second most restless, after only you, hyung."

"I am aware," Yoongi responds with a hint of mirth in his voice. With a groan, he stands tall, resting his head back against the wall, and Taehyung watches him—watches as his long lashes flutter against his high cheekbones and his brows knit slightly. At times, he wishes he could read the man's mind. "I'll make sure he is kept busy. There is no shortage of bullshit to handle."

"Rumor has it, Jimin wants him to help with the clubs," Taehyung mutters, momentarily picturing muscular, tattooed Jeongguk spinning around one of the poles at Paradise wearing a tiny black thong with his piercings glittering in the light. 

Of course, stripping would not be one of the duties Jeongguk would be appointed to, but a man can dream.

"That certainly is an option," Yoongi responds as he opens his eyes and turns his gaze to Taehyung, soft and calm. "He can help Hoseok with weapons too, if he would like. Anything that strikes his fancy; this world is his."

Although Taehyung is not often one to openly show affection toward his boss, he cannot help himself as he turns and pulls Yoongi into a hug. Although Yoongi grumbles a sound of confusion, he lifts his arms and gently settles them around Taehyung's hips, and he does not balk at Taehyung resting his head on his shoulder. 

"Thank you, hyung."

Yoongi chuckles and begins to ask what Taehyung is thanking him for, but Taehyung shakes his head and gently hugs him tighter around the upper arms, careful not to compress against his chest. 

"I know you love us. I know that you look out for us, not just because it is your duty as our boss, but because you genuinely care about us. But I still want to acknowledge what you do to keep us safe. God only knows what could have become of Jeongguk, if— Just—" To his surprise, Taehyung feels emotional from his words, and he takes a fortifying breath. "Thank you." 

"Ah, Taehyungah," Yoongi grumbles, finally pushing free from the hug, making Taehyung momentarily hold on tighter, "We are a family."

"An incestuous family," Taehyung teases, earning him a smack on the side of the head, making him laugh as he finally releases the hug. 

"Nobody is forcing you to fuck one of the family men," Yoongi grumbles, hardly sounding defensive.

Taehyung laughs, mutters, "Sometimes he does," with a smile, earning him one more smack against the head before they walk to the front door and open it, greeted by cold night air and the sight of Jeongguk sitting on top of a body that lays face-down on the cement while smoking a cigarette. 

"Speak of the devil," Yoongi mutters, and Taehyung chuckles, feeling affection warm him. How can one man be so unhinged and so dreadfully beautiful, covered in blood and sweat.

"Gonna walk hyung home, then we'll take care of him?" Taehyung asks.

Jeongguk nods and tugs his lips into a small smirk. "Looking forward to it, hyung."

The walk back to Yoongi's mansion is quick and quiet, with gravel crunching and twigs snapping underfoot. The fountains appear somewhat ominous underlit in the dark—eerie and foreboding. When they reach the mansion, Yoongi looks up toward the only lit window on this side of the house and chuckles. 

"Want to take bets on whether they are in the tub or the shower?" Taehyung asks playfully.

"Definitely the tub," Yoongi responds with a soft smile that falls to something akin to worry. "I'm sure our darling is pretty shaken up from everything."

With a knowing nod, Taehyung hums. Perhaps he should not have run his sword through the man right in front of her. In the moment of passion, he finds he has a hard time with reason, seeing red and only considering the most effective way to maim and kill. 

"I'm a little surprised she hasn't been scared off, yet," Taehyung says against his better judgment. Thankfully, Yoongi never seems to take things too seriously when it comes to casual conversation between the family men, and he just hums in response.

"She's more resilient than she seems," Yoongi mutters after a moment. 

Taehyung wonders how true that might be. He has no reason to think she is weak, but is she as strong as they give her credit for? Or does she simply have nowhere else to go? 

He certainly would never blame her, either way. If being at the mansion is something she wants, then he wants her to find comfort and happiness…but he also worries about the unorthodox way in which she arrived at the mansion in the first place. 

Is there a chance she still feels like a prisoner in her own home? Are Yoongi and Namjoon distracting her with sex and a seemingly endless supply of money, drugs, and champagne?

As they round the mansion to the front door, Taehyung is relieved to find only one vehicle in the drive. Although he did not necessarily expect Seokjin or Hoseok to be around, he is glad to not have to stay and chat. Knowing there is a man at his home who he needs to deal with has him feeling antsy and eager to return. 

Yoongi's steps begin to slow as they approach the front door, and Taehyung steps in closer to offer a hand, which Yoongi pushes away as he goes through the various security measures to get into the front door. 

Once they are inside, however, Taehyung closes the door tight and gets down on his knees, ignoring Yoongi's protests for help, and unties his boots for him. Then he holds each one steady for Yoongi to step out of, stands, and wraps an arm around Yoongi's middle to guide him to the steps. Yoongi does not bother turning on any lights; a yellow glow from outside security lamps shine through the windows, making it easy enough to see. 

"I can walk just fine," Yoongi grumbles despite allowing Taehyung to continue with the assist. 

"You can," Taehyung agrees as he steps out of his slides and kicks them aside, "but you're slowing down and I want to get back home."

"Go fucking home then," Yoongi says with a gentle shove of his shoulder, but without a hint of malice in his tone. 

"Gotta make sure your darling doesn't have a concussion, and then I will."

Yoongi hums, then they round the staircase and take it nice and slow to the top. Although Yoongi winces and groans less, he leans more into Taehyung the closer they get to the landing, and he seems out of breath once they reach their destination. 

"How's your chest?" Taehyung asks as they approach the open door to the master bedroom. 

"Eh," Yoongi responds. "The pain is minimal compared to before. Now I just feel really fucking tired."

"Well," Taehyung says in a teasing tone as they enter the bedroom and swing to the left, toward the ensuite, and only light that appears to be on in the entire mansion, "no vigorous activity tonight. Leave all of that to Namjoon."

Yoongi chuckles, and Taehyung clears his throat, schooling his features to appear a little more impassive as they turn the corner and face Namjoon and buttercup in the tub. Namjoon appears to be giving her a foot massage, nearly making Taehyung crack a smile. No wonder she puts up with their bullshit. 

Although Taehyung should have expected such a response, he is taken slightly aback when she sees Yoongi and sits up quickly with a look of fear on her face. As she moves, water sloshes over the side of the tub, and it seems to take her a moment to realize her bare breasts are exposed before she lifts an arm to cover herself. Taehyung swallows a lump in his throat and does his best to appear as stoic as possible…Jeonggukie is going to be so jealous, but now is not the time to feel giddy about that.

“Don’t panic,” Yoongi says, holding his injured hand in the air. “I took a bullet to the vest, right in my sternum, and it hurts like a mother fucker, but I just need to rest.”

“You took a—” buttercup gasps, voice sounding weak before dying in her throat, and Taehyung is suddenly uncomfortable with having to witness this exchange, letting his vision lose focus as the moment passes. He really wants to get back home. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Namjoon says calmly.

Eager to check buttercup's eyes and get back to his captive, Taehyung walks Yoongi over to the toilet and stands close while he takes a seat on the closed lid, then he approaches the tub, pulling his little flashlight from his pocket.

“Yoongi, Jeongguk, and I are all fine after the bout of whiplash, but I would like to check your eyes,” Taehyung says, squatting beside the tub.

Buttercup nods and stares up at Taehyung, who switches on the flashlight beside the right side of her face and slowly pulls it upward until some of the light hits her eye. Everything looks good on this side, and he moves the light to the left side and does the same, then he switches it off and cracks a smile, relieved to find that she is fine. 

“Your pupils are dilating properly. Do you have any severe head or neck pain?”

She shakes her head and mutters, “No, just a little soreness where my head hit the seat.”

“Nausea or dizziness?”

“Kind of, but I think it’s just related to all the anxiety.”

“Alright,” Taehyung says, standing and taking a step backward; her responses are pretty standard, and her speech is fine. She seems perfectly cognizant. “If you happen to become dizzy or nauseated enough to vomit, or experience any sharp head pain, please call me and I will come right over.”

“Thank you, Taehyung,” she says softly, sighing with what sounds like relief.

Unable to hold back a shy smile, Taehyung says, “Don’t mention it, buttercup,” then he backs up, turns gracefully on his socked feet, and takes his exit, leaving Yoongi to undress himself and join his little harem in the tub. 

With a pep in his step, Taehyung leaves the master suite and practically slides to the top of the stairs, barreling down two at a time, jumping over the last three. As he practically sprints to his slides and throws the front door open, adrenaline spikes, and Taehyung takes off back to his property as quickly as his sandaled feet will carry him.

When Taehyung reaches the basement, finding the fluorescent lights turned back on, he notices boot tracks and droplets of blood on the otherwise polished floor, leading back to the dungeon. Just the thought alone of Jeongguk dragging a desperate, whimpering man through the space has blood rushing to his cock, and he steadily makes his way to the back of the long, mostly empty basement space, standing before a large metal door that Jeongguk has conveniently left cracked open. 

Taehyung's steps are light, sandals making minimal sound as he slowly pulls the door open and takes in the sight before him. The man is hanging limp in the center of the cement room with his wrists in chains, muttering something weakly with his head hung low, and Jeongguk is leaning against the far corner with his black button-up hanging half open exposing an enticing strip of golden skin while he smokes another cigarette. 

"Finally," Jeongguk says, dropping the cigarette to the floor and stomping it out beneath his boot. He looks angry to have been kept waiting, which fuels the already growing wildfire just beneath Taehyung's skin.

"Copping an attitude already?" Taehyung bites back with a glare, stepping through the space in a rush, past the man, to take Jeongguk's pretty little jaw in his hand and squeeze. "I had to take care of our boss. Have you no respect?"

Jeongguk is the first to crack, smiling with his lips squeezed between Taehyung's fingers, making Taehyung laugh. He pulls Jeongguk close, slots a leg between his thighs and presses their bodies together until Jeongguk whimpers. 

"I hope you didn't hurt him too much without me," Taehyung groans, digging his thigh higher into Jeongguk's balls until the poor guy's eyes begin to fill with tears. 

"N-no, sir," Jeongguk mutters sweetly, nearly making Taehyung consider putting the torture on hold so he can fuck him against this grimy cement wall.

But he wants to make this man scream. He really wants to.

"Damn," Taehyung mock pouts, dropping Jeongguk's jaw and taking a step back, watching as a mix of emotions flash before Jeongguk's face, including a hint of disappointment. "I was hoping to have a reason to punish you."

With a sudden devious grin, Jeongguk reaches for the holster around his thigh, pulls out a handgun, and lifts it, pointing to the man. He clicks the hammer back while raising his eyebrows, and Taehyung grabs his hand quickly, twisting the gun from Jeongguk's grasp and holding it behind his back. 

"Don't you fucking dare," Taehyung challenges, and Jeongguk laughs, bright and pretty, making him absolutely crazy. 

"God, you should have seen the look on your face," Jeongguk teases, stepping forward and reaching around Taehyung for his gun, which Taehyung allows him to have. "You looked like you were going to kill me."

"Please don't give me a reason to," Taehyung responds, shoving Jeongguk back into the corner and lifting his hands to rake them over the dirty, bloodstained shirt. "As pretty of a trophy as your head would make, I would suffer a great loss without you."

"So romantic," Jeongguk groans as his freehand presses into Taehyung's semi-hard cock and gives it a squeeze. 

The feeling is exquisite, especially with how tight and constricting Taehyung's slacks are, and he lets out a deep, pleased groan, allowing Jeongguk to tease him just a little more before getting his hands dirty. With a chaste, soft kiss, Taehyung backs from Jeongguk and turns back to their captive, who stirs and grumbles, head slumped forward. 

"Did you rough him up?" Taehyung asks as he crosses the room, over to a large metal rack that contains some of his retired tools. "He seems more out of it now than he was in the car."

"Yeah," Jeongguk responds, "while you and Yoongi were down here, I shot him up with a little baby dose of heroin."

A mix of anger and surprise spikes in Taehyung, and he spins, searching Jeongguk for any sign that he may be joking. "Heroin? Where the fuck did you get that?"

Jeongguk chuckles and shakes his head, holding up a hand. "Relax, hyung. Our friends in Japan sent some over in case we wanted to try it out, but I have been holding onto it only to use for purposes like these."

This information does not compute, and Taehyung watches Jeongguk a moment more, hoping that he will continue to talk. When he does not, Taehyung turns back to his rack of rusted, dull surgical instruments, and attempts to gather his thoughts. 

Bringing heroin back into the family, even unintentionally, could yield catastrophic results. The last time Yoongi had his hands on a supply, they nearly lost everything, including the man himself. 

Now is not the time for this conversation, but he does not want to let it go. With a sigh, he grabs onto his trusty Serratec III—feeling the weight of the steel, handheld bone saw—and flips the switch on, watching the blade whirr and spin to life. The sound rings out loudly in the otherwise silent space, and the man chained in the center of the room stirs, jerking his head upward. 

Blood drips from the top of the man's head into his eyes, and Taehyung takes a step forward, watching as clarity hits and the man begins to fully understand the gravity of the situation. 

"What is your name?" Taehyung shouts over the shrill buzz of the saw, standing about ten feet from the man, who jerks at the chains holding him. 

The man shivers like a leaf caught in a storm, whipping his head frantically from left to right. 

"P-please," he begs, "please don't do this."

"Please don't do this?" Taehyung asks loudly, taking a step closer. "That's a long family name…doesn't sound Korean."

Behind the man, Jeongguk snickers. Then he grabs the man's face with both hands and uses his thumbs and index fingers to open the man's eyes wide, forcing him to look at Taehyung. 

"Name," Taehyung shouts, crouching slightly to be eye-level with him. 

The man whimpers pathetically and turns his head away, blood, sweat, and drool coating his ugly face. Taehyung switches off the small metal saw, and silence falls as the spinning blade slows to an abrupt stop. Using the end of the semi-rusted blade, Taehyung presses the tool against the man's chin to push on his face and make him look at Taehyung a little more squarely. Jeongguk continues to hold open his eyes, which the man attempts to blink.

"You really should answer my questions," Taehyung says softly. "Men who don't follow my orders don't make it out of here alive."

With a low squeal, the man manages to twist out of Jeongguk's grasp, dropping his head to the side. Jeongguk roughly grips onto the man's greasy, short dark brown hair and jerks his head up, making him sob. With the ability to blink, tears fall freely down the man's face, and he shakes his head in quick, shallow movements. 

"I know who you are," the man mutters, spitting through his words while snot dribbles onto his upper lip. "N-nobody comes out of this basement alive."

Taehyung snarls, eyes wide with his teeth bared, doing his best to look as horrifying as possible. The man winces, shivering, and Taehyung chuckles, glad his plan has worked. 

"You know who I am, hmm?" he asks in a playful voice, scraping the edge of the saw blade gently up the man's jaw. 

"Y-you're d-doctor death," the man croaks through sobs. "Everyone has heard of you."

"Doctor death?" Taehyung repeats, chest swelling with excitement over the moniker. "My, my, my, I am honored to have earned such a title."

"Please just kill me," the man whimpers, shaking so hard his teeth rattle. 

"Ah, but I can't do that," Taehyung responds, cocking his head to the side to mirror the angle of the man's head. "I need to know who sent you to us tonight. And the longer it takes you to talk, the more painful it will be, do you understand?"

"Y-you know who it was," the man bleats, wincing when Jeongguk tugs his hair harder. 

With a sigh, Taehyung stands straight and flips the saw back on. The smell of piss hits his nose in an instant, and glances down to see a trickle running from the man's pant leg, into the small metal grate at his feet. 

Taehyung wonders how long this man has worked in this business, and what his rank might be. He appears no older than Yoongi or Seokjin but he cowers like a bitch who has hardly seen any action. 

"If you're so afraid of me, you should just talk!" Taehyung shouts like a parent scolding a child. 

"B-but they'll kill me," the man sputters, barely audible over the saw. 

"What I will do is worse than killing you!" Taehyung insists, holding up the saw so that the man has a good view of it. 

Finally, the man screams bloody murder, eyes screwed shut and spit falling from between his lips. 

"You're a lamb hung out to slaughter," Taehyung mutters, uncaring whether the man can hear him or not. "And nobody can hear you scream."

"P-please," the man whimpers, shaking his head, which is still being tugged by Jeongguk. "Tonight was nothing. She already has attacks planned at a much greater scale."

"She does, does she?" Taehyung asks, receiving at least one answer. 

There have been whispers, however, that Ryujin may not be in charge of the Busan operations. Nothing more than voices murmuring rumors…but Taehyung is curious whether there is anything to substantiate those murmurs, especially since Yoongi and Seokjin seem to also think they could be true; Yoongi knows Ryujin better than anyone. 

The streets tend to talk a lot, but something about this particular rumor seems to hold a little weight, if it is who Taehyung believes it may be. Although Ryujin has her bone to pick with her ex, she was never quite the vindictive type—not on this scale. 

Kim Hyungseo, on the other hand…

"P-please," the man sobs. "If you can promise me a clean death, I will tell you everything."

Taehyung's head rolls back as he laughs, making the sound as boisterous as he can muster. Just who does this man think he is, trying to tell Doctor Death what to do?

"Are you giving me orders?" Taehyung snaps, leaning in close while Jeongguk yanks the man's head hard enough to make him scream. 

"No! No, please, no, I was just—"

Taehyung leans in closer, speaking nice and slow, "Because I don't take too well to being given orders."

The man's eyes widen, full of fear so great, it makes Taehyung's heart soar to the heavens. Taehyung lifts the saw and gently nicks the man's jaw, causing a splattering of blood to hit him on the chest. The man squeals like a pig, frantically yanking at his restraints and causing Jeongguk's grasp on his hair to slip. 

"Who is your boss!" Taehyung screams, making the man scream in response, and Taehyung lifts the saw high and nicks the man on his ulna bone, just below his wrist, deep enough to hit the bone, but not deep enough to sever anything important.

"Fuck!" the man screams, "Please, please just kill me!"

"You know I won't do that," Taehyung teases, moving the saw around to hit the other arm in the same spot, letting the saw collide with the metal chains holding the man in place to make a horrific metallic scraping sound. "My reputation precedes me, remember? Doctor Death, was it?" 

It always amazes Taehyung how much a man will tolerate just to keep his mouth shut, and he leaves more little nicks along the man's arms, causing blood to run down in thin streaks. He is certain he would be able to withstand torture to keep Yoongi safe, but that is Yoongi, after all. 

What could this man possibly stand to gain, as a grunt sent into a gunfight? Is his life really worth more than whatever he is willing to protect?

"Alright," Taehyung sighs, turning the saw off once more. "Let's suit up and really make this pig squeal."

Beside the metal rack of nearly-defunct toys is a large, metal cabinet that holds hazmat suits, oxygen masks, and other protective barriers, as well as tubs of cleaning agents. Jeongguk slaps the man on the back of the head, then joins Taehyung by the cabinet.

The two of them make quick work sliding into two white suits that zip in the front, pulling hoods over their heads and covering their faces with masks that have a clear plate over the eyes, and respirators over the mouth. They put on sets of nitrile gloves, and Taehyung grabs a small tub of powdered lye that he hands to Jeongguk. 

Taehyung retrieves his saw and returns to the man, who trembles hard, bleating out pathetic pleas to be spared. Jeongguk removes the lid from the lye and tosses it aside, then pulls out a little blue measuring scoop and begins to sprinkle the caustic powder onto the man's hands and arms. 

The effect where the man is cut is instant—the lye begins to burn at the skin, eating away and causing the wounds to fester. The man thrashes and screams, spit and sweat flying from him as unintelligible syllables fall from his mouth as his chains clatter.

"You really should just answer my questions," Taehyung sing-songs, voice sounding even more menacing as it filters through the oxygen mask. "I can shoot you up with epinephrine and keep you alive for a long time."

The man curses and screams, frantically shaking his arms, rattling the chains loudly, only serving to make every nerve of Taehyung's spike—making him itch to hurt the man more. 

"Is Shin still in charge?" Taehyung asks, watching as the skin on the man's hands and wrists slowly turns a horrible yellow-pink. 

The man shakes his head, but it is not enough of a response; for all Taehyung knows, it could simply be a reaction to the pain. 

"Answer me!" Taehyung screams, and the man jerks away, frantically thrashing in his chains. 

"Y-yes," the man whimpers, but it is not convincing. He screws up his face in a way that tells Taehyung he is lying. 

"You're sure about that?" Taehyung asks, inching closer. "Rumor has it Kim is in charge, and Shin is a pawn."

The way the man's eyes light up tells Taehyung he is onto something, then he shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut, quaking with fear and pain the likes of which Taehyung can only imagine. 

But then the man says, "I d-don't know what you are t-talking about," squeezing his eyes shut even tighter. 

Taehyung hums, lifts the saw, and shouts, "Let's jog that memory of yours!" as he flips the switch and it whirrs loudly to life. 

Without waiting for the man to react, Taehyung begins to tap the spinning blade against the man's elbows and the fatty bits below the pronator teres and tricep muscles, careful not to go deep enough to sever any of the veins and nerves.

The screams that come from the man are nothing short of astounding. Jeongguk dips his nitrile-clad hand into the bucket of powdered lye and pulls out enough to begin spreading over the wounds, causing the wailing and shrieking to increase.

Taehyung worries the man might pass out a little too fast if they keep this up, but the sounds are magnificent, and he loves making men walk the thin line between consciousness and unconsciousness.  

"What other plans does she have!" Taehyung shouts, and the man screws up his face, unwilling to open his eyes or look at him.  

"I don't—" the man spits, shaking his head slowly, "I don't know."

"Now is not the time to lie to me! You said she has plans for large-scale attacks! What does that mean?"

The man sobs, tears streaming down his face, and he heaves in deep breaths, appearing as if he might slowly be losing his grasp on reality. 

"She knows where you live," he mutters, head drooping low as all of his weight begins to tug on the chains around his wrists. 

Taehyung shuts off the saw and hands it over to Jeongguk, then he reaches into the pocket of his suit to grab from a stash of epinephrine pens and removes the safety cap from the end.

"Everyone knows where we live," Taehyung responds as he jabs the pen into the man's thigh and holds it in place, watching as the man jerks around and begins to scream again, appearing confused by his surroundings. 

"We could do this all night," Taehyung mutters, tossing the epinephrine aside and gripping the man by the jaw. "Tell me what she plans."

"She—" the man mutters, eyes widening before they begin to search the room as if the man has no grasp on where he is, even with the added adrenaline. 

"Fuck," Taehyung spits under his breath. 

Although an attack on their homes has always been within the realm of possibility—Ryujin lived in the mansion for years, after all—Taehyung does not like that the man brings it up. Hoseok has equipped each home with some fairly intense, high-tech firepower, but Ryujin could be expecting that. 

And if Hyungseo is the one in charge, there is no telling what their next moves might be. Taehyung needs to report back to Yoongi and Seokjin immediately. 

"Alright, well if you won't talk, I guess I will have to kill you," Taehyung says, exasperated and annoyed.

The man squeals, but he hardly seems to have any fight left in him. His skin is corroding where Jeongguk applied lye, festering with puss and blood and undoubtedly leaving behind a stench. 

Taehyung switches the saw back on, and Jeongguk pulls out the little blue scoop from the lye, holding it above the man's head. 

"May as well," Taehyung says with a shrug, and Jeongguk nods once before dumping the powder onto him. 

Soon it will mix with sweat and get into the man's eyes. Taehyung fails to think of anything more horrible to experience. 

With a yawn, Taehyung crouches and begins to hack away at the man, making him easier to dispose of later. He starts with his ankles, slicing through the material of his black slacks, which catches on the blade of the saw, yanking the man around. 

The sounds of the man screaming are drowned out partially by the pounding of Taehyung's heart in his ears, and he watches as one of the man's feet hangs on by tendons and sinew, dangling from a stump that gushes blood. 

The rest of his movements are mechanical, hacking the man at each major joint while Jeongguk uses scissors to cut away at the clothing and make it easier for him. He feels so tired suddenly—so worn down from the events of earlier—that he has half a mind to drag the man into the next room over and toss him into the cremation oven just as he is. 

Taehyung has no idea how long it takes, but by the time Jeongguk is shutting the oven door and exiting the dungeon to peel off his clothing, Taehyung feels as if he is blinking from a trance. 

He feels exhausted and disgusting. He needs to shower, and he needs to cum. 

Jeongguk helps Taehyung undress, carefully piling their clothing into a corner to be dealt with later, retrieving phones, wallets, and any other items from their pockets and carrying them in his hand. They walk through the basement in the nude, feet lightly slapping against cold white tile, and make their way to the main floor, through the foyer, up the flight of stairs, and down the hall to the master bedroom. 

Taehyung takes his phone once Jeongguk has set all the items down on a small marble table beside the bedroom door, and he shoots a text off to Seokjin and Yoongi with what little information he has. That he tried to confirm the whispered rumors, but the man hardly spoke; that the man said "she" knows where they live, but lost consciousness shortly after.

Water runs and steam pours from the ensuite, calling Taehyung like a siren's song. He tosses his phone onto the table and turns, meandering ungracefully into the bathroom. He feels the overwhelming urge to curl into a ball and let sleep claim him, but the sight of Jeongguk scrubbing the grime and blood from his perfect, tattooed body invigorates him.

Taehyung steps into the large white tiled shower and goes straight for Jeongguk, cornering him despite his limbs dripping with suds. He reaches for Jeongguk, who swats his hands away and shoves his washcloth into his grasp.

"You can touch me when you're clean, hyung," Jeongguk teases, snaking out from the corner to rinse himself.

Taehyung wastes no time squirting more soap onto the cloth and washing himself. He takes extra care to get behind his ears, and cleans his hair and face. Then he tosses the rag aside and reaches to the upper lip of the white tiles—to a space a few feet below the ceiling—where he has cloth restraints connected to a metal bolt in the corner.

"Trying to reenact the scene downstairs?" Jeongguk teases, taking his place in the corner and lifting his hands over his head.

"So fucking bratty tonight," Taehyung growls as he wraps each of Jeongguk's wrists in the restraints and closes the velcro tight. 

Taehyung keeps Jeongguk facing him, and he reaches between his legs, wasting no time prodding him open with one finger. Jeongguk squirms and squeals, getting onto his tippy toes before crashing back to his heels, over and over. 

"Lube, hyung," Jeongguk whines, and Taehyung shoves his finger in deeper. 

"What do you call me?" he grits between his teeth.

"Sir! Please!" Jeongguk whines, "F-feels good but it hurts."

Taehyung pulls his fingers away and grabs the bottle of lube that sits between his shampoo and body wash, squirting some on his fingers and setting it aside. He reaches between Jeongguk's spread thighs once more and prods with two fingers, slowly stretching him, giving him brief moments to catch his breath until he is settled knuckle-deep.

"Reassure me once more that Yoongi does not have access to heroin," Taehyung says, fixing Jeongguk with a stern look, watching as his eyes widen. 

"Sir," Jeongguk mutters, pulling on the restraints around his wrists. "Hyung, is now the right time?"

"Reassure me that you were given product in person, from someone you know. Nothing was mailed to the property? There is absolutely no way that it was a man from the Busan crew trying to get drugs into the mansion somehow?"

"Hyung!" Jeongguk responds, much more forcefully, with his brows knit. 

"I just need to be absolutely certain that our boss is safe."

"Can we talk about this later?" Jeongguk asks, eyes wide and frantic. "Since when are drug operations any of your responsibility?"

Taehyung slips his fingers from Jeongguk and takes a step back, feeling anger fizzle through him. He crashes his palm against the wet marble, sending water flying in a weak-sounding, somewhat painful slap, making Jeongguk flinch and grimace.

"Keeping our hyung alive is all our responsibility, Jeon Jeongguk!" Taehyung snaps, barely able to register the look of fear and confusion on his boyfriend's beautiful face. "If anything happens to him, I'll—"

Overcome with emotion, Taehyung slides his hand from the wall. The steam from the shower is too much, and he stumbles back, twisting to catch himself against cold tile that is not hit by the scalding stream of water. 

"You're tired, hyung. Let's fuck and go to bed, yeah?" Jeongguk suggests sweetly, shaking his restraints in wet smacks against the tile. "Or untie me and we'll talk about this." 

Taehyung takes a moment to catch his breath. Panicking over the health and safety of one man is not going to get him anywhere. Not when that man is safe in his home, sandwiched between two very clingy people who are just as determined as he is to keep him safe. The thought makes Taehyung chuckle and shake his head, coming back to himself. 

"I am tired, but first I'm going to fuck that tight little hole of yours," Taehyung says, fixing Jeongguk with a smile that he knows must appear maniacal—eyes wet and bloodshot, bearing his teeth. Nothing Jeongguk is not used to, but my, what a spectacle he must be. 

Jeongguk takes in a deep breath that comes out ragged, and Taehyung wastes no time grabbing him by the jaw with one hand while his other reaches between his thighs, pressing two fingers past the knuckle back into him. 

With a strained chorus of, "Ah, ah, ah," Jeongguk's head rolls back, sweat and condensation from the hot shower pouring down his chest, dropping from the little metal balls of his nipple rings. 

Taehyung licks from the center of his chest to his clavicle, coating his tongue in salty-sweet sweat, groaning in tandem with Jeongguk's deep, needy moan. He does not allow Jeongguk a moment to adjust, fucking his fingers deep while Jeongguk trembles and bleats out broken, desperate sounds. 

It takes no time at all to stretch him enough to get him begging, and Taehyung slicks his cock with lube, then lifts Jeongguk's leg, hooking it over his hip while pulling him into a position that is far too precarious to be doing in the shower. 

Jeongguk sighs and gasps as Taehyung presses his cock slowly, carving him open much wider than his fingers possibly could. The tight squeeze feels incredible, and Taehyung stills once he is buried deep, taking a moment to clear his head and catch his breath. 

He fucks Jeongguk slowly at first, pinching and rubbing his fingertips over pierced nipples and a pretty clavicle while his other hand holds him firmly by the hip. Jeongguk sings for him, moans and sobs echoing through the enclosed space, pitchy and broken and beautiful, driving Taehyung absolutely fucking insane. 

"Just look at you," Taehyung growls as he picks up his pace, eager to fill Jeongguk with his release. "Look at how that pretty cock bounces, untouched and leaking." 

Jeongguk whimpers and attempts to bury his face against one of his arms, but Taehyung grabs him roughly by both hips and says, "Look at me," in a stern enough voice that has Jeongguk's eyes widening, tears and water falling from his long brown lashes. 

That look alone sends Taehyung hurtling over the edge, and he fucks impossibly harder, water squelching in the spaces where their bodies meet. With one hand, he takes Jeongguk's cock and strokes it, rolling his palm over the head, just the way he likes.

"Please," Jeongguk sobs with desperate eyes, and Taehyung nods, biting his lip hard in an effort to stave off his own orgasm.  

Jeongguk cries out as he paints his tummy in release, eyes screwing momentarily shut before he opens them wide, trained after years of Taehyung forcing him to look at him while he cums. Taehyung cannot hold any longer, and he slams his cock deep, quaking from pleasure as he fills Jeongguk, gripping onto his hips tightly, desperate to never let him go. 

As Taehyung pulls out, he wraps his arms around Jeongguk and buries his face into his neck. He hates that he gets this way—so overcome with affection and love that he feels the urge to sob. 

"Thank you," he grumbles into Jeongguk's skin, then he slowly begins to reach up and undo the velcro restraints. 

"Felt good, hyung," Jeongguk mutters as his hands are freed and he is able to pull Taehyung close. "Let's get to bed."

Taehyung wants to get to bed—needs to rest his weary head and relax his tired bones. But he hugs Jeongguk close, breathing through the surge of anger and fear that spark throughout his limbs and sizzle beneath his skin.

"I won't let her hurt him," he grits through his teeth, picturing the way Yoongi was so worn down today—so unlike himself. "I won't let anyone hurt any of us."

"Shh," Jeongguk whispers softly, reaching to shut off the stream of water, making the warmth on Taehyung's skin instantly turn cold. "We won't let anything happen to anyone, hyung. We'll keep them safe."

"We'll keep them safe," Taehyung mutters in response, feeling sleep claw at him, dragging him down, down, down. It is a promise he does not take lightly. Every last person in Busan had better watch out.

*

woof, that one was a doozy! for those who don't know who Kim Hyungseo (BIBI) is, here is a palate cleanser.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF THIS SITE, BUT LIKES ARE ALSO SUPER APPRECIATED!!! THANK YOU FOR READING, I LOVE YOU!!!

tag lists will be on separate reblogs! they’ve gotten too big to contain as one! if you would like to be tagged in this fic, please let me know!!! 💜💜💜

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#taehyung mafia #jungkook mafia #yoongi mafia #taehyung x jungkook #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #bts mafiabts smut #bts poly #fic: collateral

[wildestdreamsblog]

Most to Least In Denial Member from my Mafia World

All bcos I couldn’t sleep.

1. Taehyung

Man’s clinically diagnosed psychopath. He’s very much aware that something’s not right with him and he doesn’t care. So of course he thought that he couldn’t feel anything. And of course he couldn’t understand why he’s feeling that way for her. And of course, he’ll stalk her and annoy her to figure out what is it with her that makes him feel emotions.

2. Seokjin

Eh. The most chaotic and in denial man after Tae Tae. Man is so confused and quite frankly, disgusted by his feelings. But did that stop him from buying a house for them to grow old one night when he was drunk??? Nope.

3. Yoongi

The leader aka the bloodthirsty fool. Man’s really not in denial, he was just ehem…slow to realize his feelings. And of course, you guys knew that it was already too late the moment he realized. He was already in too deep. And nope. He’ll never even try to help himself 😮‍💨

4. Namjoon

This man is too focused on his career that he really didn’t take his sweet time to understand his feelings. Mostly, he’s just happy everytime she’s near. He only really acknowledges his love for her when she becomes pregnant 🤓

5. Jimin

Ah, girl, the moment she defended him was the moment he accepted that she was going to be someone to him. He is aware that the bestfriend thingy he has going on with her would one day bite him in the ass.

6. Jungkook

Man is smitten. Everyone knows. He even announces it in his company website 🤷🏻‍♀️

7. Hobi

Man’s obsessed.

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #kim seokjin fic #kim taehyung fic #kim namjoon fic #park jimin fic #jung hoseok fic #jeon jungkook fic #bts ot7 #ot7 yandere #bts mafia

[hobicakess]

RIDE OR DIE | Jeon Jungkook

SUMMARY: Young, hot, and pussy drunk Jungkook was just your type.

RATING: 18++ (im not a babysitter. You are in control of what you consume)

TAGS/WARNING: unprotected sex , mean dom reader , female reader , mommy kink , porn with little to no plot , riding , subby Jungkook , nonna kink , age gap [5 years] , voyeurism , mentions of ex husband namjoon , crying kink , cream pie [zont do this] , himbo jungkookie

A/n: Freak nasty hours 😋 [not my header]

"Noona, please -" his whine was loud and obnoxious as his eyes became glossy, pink lips parted wide in an O shape. You ignored his protest and kept riding. It was wrong to be sleeping with your ex-husbands assistant, but it was just something about him since he'd turned 25. The piercings, the tattoos, and the long fluffy hair. Jungkook was a whole Amazon package waiting to be unboxed. Plus Namjoon had nothing to do with you or your pussy.

"Noonaaa," he gargled, making you roll your eyes, stopping your movements altogether. If there was one thing about younger guys, it was they were so needy and whiny. You were now seated on his lap, his cock hard and throbbing inside of you. You watched his chest raise and fall as he blinked back tears from his dark doe eye. "What Jungkook?" He whined again, body trembling tiny little tremors.

"S'too much" he was braindead when it came to your pussy it didn't help that he was already pretty stupid when you weren't having sex. Mockingly pouting down at him, going to kiss his raw lips, your hands sliding up his tatted stomach.

"My poor kookie.. " You tsk at him,causing him to whine louder. "You wanna be my good boy? huh?"

"Mhm mhm mhm" nodding eagerly, dark hair falling in his eyes. "Then shut the fuck up and take it." Your eyes harden as you lift yourself off and slam your hips back down. He was crying now tears falling onto his rosey cheeks hair sticking there.

Leaning down, you grip his face, licking the salty drops and shoving your tongue in his mouth. "Mm, my good boy feeling me up so good," you whisper onto his lips.

Your thighs smacking onto his hip, pussy gripping him to no return. "Ah ah ah m gonna cum.. cummin in my mommies pussy" he hissed,raising up wrapping his arms around your waist tightly hips lifting up to matching your slams hands gripping the fat of your thighs and hips mouth latching onto your harden nipple

"Shit, baby, fill mommy up like a good boy."

Feeling his cock twitch he let out a loud and needy whimper before shooting his load deep inside your gummy walls. He stopped thrusting as his legs shook, arms crushing you. You shush him while panting heavily eyes drifting towards the crack in the door. The familiar eyes of your ex husband was there for a split second and then gone.

Spent and well fucked out he flopped on his back. You tap his cheek "I didn't cum, come eat and maybe I'll let you suck my tits till you sleep." Immediately he sprung into action flipping you on your back legs high in the air.

#dijhera thots #bts x black reader #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #taehyung x reader #jungkook x you #bts poly au #bts mafia au

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part six - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

Warnings - 3.6k words of : Toxic yandere men, sub drop, crime, violence, injury, emotionally abusive behaviour, possessive behaviour, lying and manipulation, monopolising, unhealthy relationships, aftercare ish, love bombing?, Namjoon's dark side is coming out but internally (because we can read his mind but MC can't)

It’s a sting or an ache that rouses you awake, coming from your bruised wrist. You let out a soft gasp of pain, lifting your head to see Yoongi carefully applying cream to the dents the ropes had burned into your perfect skin. 

“Hoseok and his stupid games,” he mutters, full focus on making sure he’s soothing the marks of their punishment, like if the evidence of them went away so would the sadness they inflicted on you as well. It was a stupid naive thought, Yoongi knew it, but your presence in his life filled him with that silly feeling of hope. 

He gently rests your wrist on the bed, searching for the next limb before he notices your eyes on him. They’re blank he notices, void of anything, fuck, they really did a number on you. He couldn’t swallow down the lump of regret lodged in his throat, no he would suffocate on it until you recovered. 

You feel the bed dip beside your head, but it doesn’t pull your gaze away from Yoongi as he pulls your other wrist cautiously away from where you held it against your chest. You feel fingers in your hair, the urge to nuzzle against them almost overwhelming but the memories of their harsh words keeps you still.

“Heaven,” Taehyung's deep voice murmurs loud enough for you to hear as he plays with the strands. “Does it hurt?”

At his words you feel something pierce your middle, a pain that lay dormant until it was called out. A part of him means the sting of Yoongi’s ministriations, another part of him means the hole they carved out of your chest. At first it might seem sadistic, but he needed you to feel it, if you felt empty it would be harder to coax you back, the hurt meant you were still alive, still with them, and not an empty shell they were terrified they pushed you to be. 

He would take your anger, your betrayal, your sadness over the void you presented to them now. Yoongi moves you carefully from your fetal position on the bed, so you’re lying on your back, your eyes meet Taehyung’s as he peers down at you. The position has an itch of anxiety building under your skin, it's too familiar to your punishment even if you aren’t as physically as exposed, but the burn in your extremities from those ropes lulled your brain into believing it was about to happen again. 

You see the frown in his brows as he watches your chest lift and fall too deeply, the look in your eyes like a caged animal looking for a chance to run. It’s when Yoongi takes hold of your ankle you pull away with a small whimper. Both men look at each other for a moment as you swallow down the rising panic. 

“Little love,” Yoongi says, being as reassuring as he can, “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

You inhale like your soul slammed its way back to your body, the corners of your eyes watering. 

“Liar,” you barely manage to whisper, but it's loud enough that it cuts him. He deserved that. The anxiety in your limbs creeps into your chest, seizing your lungs until you’re unable to take a breath. 

The hand in your hair moves to cup your face, his body lying beside you, your hand is on his chest, your insides fighting with the urge to push him away or clutch his shirt and pull him closer.

“Y/n you need to breathe,” Tae instructs against your hair soothingly, taking your hand on his chest in his. The other palm turns your head so you face him, his thumb stroking circles on your cheek. “Breathe with me.”

You want to tell him you can’t, but you try to follow his example, earning yourself a small smile on his face, the hum of danger dampening. You lose yourself to Tae as you both lie together, feeling yourself calm before sleep takes you again. The last thing you feel is soft lips on your temple, but you’re too exhausted to register it.

—

“How is she doing?” Jin asks Yoongi as he washes his hands, breaking his despondent stare at nothing. 

He just nods in reply, avoiding eye contact. There were only a few times that Yoongi ever felt himself be moved to tears, but the state you were in now shoved him on the brink of a breakdown. And the worst part of it all was that they were responsible. Aftercare, especially after one of Hoseok’s sessions, was vital and they all knew it and yet because they were caught up in their own emotions they let you drop. 

“That bad huh,” Jin laughs humorlessly under his breath, leaning against the door frame as he contemplates his own shortcomings. “Namjoon wasn’t lying when he told her we were the scum of the earth.”

He hangs his head back, looking up at the ceiling as if it would hold all the answers or at least grant him the ability to rewind time back to when you first woke up.

“We weren’t supposed to be scum to her,” Yoongi muttered, turning off the water that scalded his hands red, the pain was good, it felt like he was paying for his mistakes, although it was a small compensation to what he would have to pay. “The rest of the world doesn’t matter, to Y/n we were supposed to be worthy of her.”

“But we’re not,” Jin replies quietly. 

“We didn’t have to prove it,” he bites back, feeling resentment towards Namjoon for bringing it up at all. He understood the need to be accepted, raging red flags and all, but to you they were supposed to be better, you were supposed to be the exception.

“What if she never forgives us,” he whispers his fears to the oldest of them, that tight invisible grip around his throat still present. 

Jin can’t even bring himself to placate him, he can’t, he has the same fears. 

—

Jimin’s tears crumbled their already broken hearts, but when Jungkook joined in it made them feel a despair they hadn’t felt since the day you left them. 

“It’s going to be fine,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth, unsure of who he was trying to convince when a small voice in the back of his head was calling him a liar. If he could he would shoot the voice dead. “Our relationship isn’t that weak.”

Hoseok watches their leader massage his eyes as though a headache was starting. 

“You need to go see her,” Yoongi says to Namjoon, arms folded, voice empty of emotion. Their fearless head of the crime syndicate had yet to visit you since the fight in the bathroom, Yoongi knew he would eat his words once he did.

“How are we going to fix this?” Hosek groans, patting Jimin’s head as he cried. The maknae was attached to Jimin’s back, both of them on the floor as they sobbed. 

Taehyung had refused to leave your side, the others went in and out but Tae was afraid if he left you you would find a way to escape again, and he couldn’t live through that a second time.  

“We broke her by exposing her,” Namjoon mumbles mostly to himself, thinking out loud, biting the skin of his thumb uncharacteristically nervous. “Made her feel like it was something bad…” made her pull away from us because we didn’t make her feel safe and let her drop. “Need to rebuild trust in the same way,” need to make her feel loved, “reassure her,” hold her but keep her vulnerable so she doesn’t build back up with walls against us. 

His brain works fast, now that the Suho problem was dealt with, he could focus on you until the repercussions of the Captain came. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there would be some sort of retaliation, the Captain didn’t seem the sort to let things go. 

“No more games,” Yoongi breaks his train of thoughts, eyes boring into him before looking at Hoseok too. “No more punishments, she never deserved any of them we were just sadistic fucks looking for an outlet for our own insecurity.”

Namjoon’s fist clenches, unhappy with the tone his usually stoic friend takes, even if his words held some truth. 

“A whole world at our disposal to kick down and we take it out on our little love,” Yoongi scoffs, chuckling in disgust with himself and the others. “We really are scum of the Earth.”

—

The Captain doesn’t find the ceiling all that interesting, but it’s all he can stare at alone in the hospital wing. He’s not alone in the sense of physically, the hospital staff mill around working on the ward, he’s merely separated by curtains from the other patients, but the noise around him felt like a hum, a buzz in the background. The only visitor he had was the Chief of police telling him to stand down about the syndicate task force and then offering (ordering) him half a years paid leave. 

“Take the time off,” he had said. “Recover,” he patted Suho’s shoulder before muttering, “it’ll do you some good.”

But the captain could see the truth in the Chief’s eyes, a hidden variable that was making him speak through the shadows. Kim Namjoon got to the police, he had his strings attached to every officer like they were his puppets. He only needed the top brass, they would create order and command for him. He wondered what he had on them all, how deep the corruption ran.

It seemed he was cut at the knees in more ways than one, the leader of the crime syndicate really drove that message home. He laughs at himself humourlessly despite the lack of anything funny in sight. One of the nurses giving him a judgmental side eye, wondering to herself whether they gave him too much morphine. 

Suho could still feel the pain tearing through his knee and his hand, albeit dulled by the drugs in his system. The bullet had been lodged into his bone, it required surgery to be pulled out, surgery that was paid for by an anonymous benefactor. The thought of who he suspected as that person made him want to beg to put the bullet back. 

Powerless wasn’t a feeling he was all that common with, even in his darkest days on the force he always felt hope, knew he would see the Sun rise another day. But Kim Namjoon had a way of drowning the Sun, and all her rays of hope. He could only pray that by some miracle, he could pull you out of the waters before your light washed out. 

—

The scene when you open your eyes is eerily similar to the one before your world flipped upside down, a part of you wanted to believe the hands of time had turned back or at least you woke up in an alternative universe where the fight never happened, but the memories burned through your mind too clearly for anything else to be true. All seven of your walking talking red flags were posted around you in the room, eyes on you albeit much softer than that day, yet for some reason it puts you on edge. 

“Heaven,” Jimin sits on his knees on the bed peering down at you, you notice the telling red rims around his eyes and his nose, was he crying? Why? He tries to cover it with a smile, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons but he couldn’t hide the evidence from you, you knew him too well.

He takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips before he mumbles desperately against your skin, his voice breaking, “forgive us.”

Tentatively, as if afraid you were going to break or run away, two arms wrap around your middle, the maknae lying beside you burying his head into you but you can hear the tell tale sniffles. It was rare any of them ever cried, you really must look like a state.

Your head throbs from the continuous cycles of sleep you were putting yourself through, sleep was safe and you were too exhausted to live, let alone deal with the repercussions of your relationship. 

“Jungkook, you’re smothering our dove,” Hoseok sighs, arms folded as he keeps his distance. He wouldn’t say it aloud but since he and Namjoon were the directors of your punishment and subsequently the push into subdrop he was afraid of approaching you.

It wasn’t just your rejection that would break his heart, but if his presence caused a reaction of trauma, more than what you were presenting now, it would crumble him. It took everything in his will power not to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive them, and the man had never begged anyone for anything before. 

Even Namjon kept himself an arm length away, sitting on the ottoman at the end of your bed, watching you as the others interacted. Soekjin had stood beside you, his fingers massaging your forehead as if he could sense the pain, but your eyes find Namjoon. 

“Did you hurt him?” It was the first time you had seen him and the first words out of your mouth were about that cockroach. He can feel his anger begin to simmer dangerously, his jaw clenches before he releases a self deprecating laugh under his breath. This was cruel even for you, was it a test? Why didn’t you ask him whether he killed him, that he could answer truthfully, the details were a little more complicated. 

���We didn’t kill him,” Hoseok says, his mind flashing back to standing on the roof of the opposite building holding the sniper as it took out the Captain’s leg.

“That’s not what I asked,” you whisper, eyes starting to water again. 

Namjoon glances at Yoongi’s warning stare, the thoughts written clearly on his stone face, enough of proving to you how evil they truly were, the truth didn’t matter, only you did. But yet there was something inside of him urging him to tell you, a sadistic part of him that wanted to break the already cracked dusty rose tinted glasses. Was it so bad of him to want you to love the darkest parts of him? Couldn’t you hear his soul cry out for you to love him despite how bloodstained it was?

“No we didn’t hurt him Love,” he sighs, hanging his head so he wouldn’t have to meet your gaze, his fist clenching the material of his trousers. The lie tasted like coal in his mouth, but he would swallow it down even if it upset his stomach. 

You let out a sound of relief, the weight on your shoulders suddenly disappeared and you could breathe freely again. They actually saw you smile, and the guilt only cemented. 

“Thank you,” you exhale, the feeling of love you were holding back against them now allowed to roam back into your body. There was hope, there was a chance to heal your relationship; they listened to you despite their murderous intent, you were relieved. You were so worried they would kill him anyway despite your plea not to, but this was proof they were willing to work on themselves with you, that you meant something to them more than being their toy.

You close your eyes, feeling overwhelmed. Jimin wipes away your tears, you hadn’t even realised had slipped from the corner of your eyes. 

“Our baby’s so caring,” Jin comments, trying to keep the bite out of his voice and eyes. Your gaze falls on him and he smiles, it’s the most fake thing he’s ever done in front of you but you’d believe it. Seokjin was a mastermind at manipulation, to the point he could paint whatever he wanted on his face regardless of his emotions. Namjoon had debriefed them before you woke up, the objective was to do what they did best, monopolise you back under their spell.

It throws you, the gentle expression on his face, maybe you did wake up in an alternate reality. Jungkook distracts you, pulling you closer against him, his lips on your shoulder, making his way up your neck and cheek slowly. You turn to face him, eyes in a daze, that sweet bunny smile greeting you shyly but your attention is pulled away by another. 

The back of Taehyung’s fingers trace your cheek gently, another smile greeting you when you turn to him on the other side of you, finding him kneeling on the floor beside the bed. He takes notice of your glazed stare, the slow confusion on your face.

“Aren’t you the cutest little love to ever exist,” he coos quietly.

“Our only little love,” Yoongi corrects him.

“Our slice of heaven,” Jimin pipes in.

“The only heaven we’ll ever see,” Namjoon’s deep voice gruffs.

That overwhelming feeling only grew, but it didn’t feel unwanted, you felt cushioned, like you were being lifted or floating on a cloud. Gentle touches, soft words, soothing your soul quiet, letting it rest. But you were unaware a part of you was being buried.

“Our perfect Angel,” Namjoon whispered and for some reason it felt like the final nail in the coffin making you snap back to your senses.

“No,” you sit up to face him, breaking away all the physical touch they had on you. The safe space they had lulled you into with all your defences bare had shattered. “You can’t expect me to accept you for all your flaws if you won’t do the same for me.”

There’s a fight in your eyes that comes alive as you stare him down, but he keeps quiet letting you fill the silence.

“I am not perfect, YOU need to stop pretending I am,” you throw his words back at him, he fucked you with those words and made you accept their cruelty, he would have to offer you the same respite. “I am done with trying to live up to this impossible image you have of me, because every time I break the illusion I can see the disappointment in your faces and it kills me every time.”

“Little love, you are perfect,” Jin sighs, moving to sit in front of you to break the staring match between you and Joon. “All those things you think are flaws are perfect Love, they’re a part of you, of course they’re perfect.”

His thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, trying to will away the fire when it threatened to burn everything they had spent rebuilding in this room with your recovery.

“If we made you feel anything other than perfect dove that’s our fault,” Hoseok admits, “but you already know how bad we are, it’s always our fault, don’t let us fool you otherwise.”

“You don’t get it,” you frown, looking down at your lap. “When you love me like that, it's a burden.”

“Love,” Yoongi calls for you, desperation in his voice, hating that you felt that way at all. “That’s not our intention.”

“Baby,” Jungkook sits up beside you, and you start to feel confined, their bodies like iron bars of a jail, keeping you with them for a life sentence you were beginning to think you deserved. “We love you, we made a mistake, we know that, but our love for you isn’t bad.”

“It’s the one redeemable thing about us Heaven,” Taehyung adds, looking up at you even with your head hanging low, trying to meet your eyes. 

You feel your eyes water, you just ached, wanting to be drowned in their love but protected from their consequences. Last time you took the coward's way out, you ran away, this time you needed to create distance, but still work on the problem without bias, without their love infecting you until you could heal them and yourself.

“I don’t know where to go from here,” you confess, holding back a sob. Your mind starting to win the war it raged against your heart and all it wanted.

Their solemn expressions snap to you, the panic in their eyes piercing you.

“What do you mean, little love?” Jimin says warningly, you sounded like you were wanting to end your relationship but you surely knew better than anyone that it was impossible. They wouldn’t let you go if you tried.

“I think we need to go on a break,” you state, your voice strained from the heavy feeling of wanting to cry in your throat. 

“Absolutely not,” Hoseok shakes his head, nostrils flaring at the suggestion.

“I’m not asking,” you say firmly.

“You don’t get to make that decision little love,” Namjoon’s lips twitch as he stops himself from growling, how dare you even think it. “You’re ours.”

You both stare each other down, neither willing to compromise. 

“I’m mine,” you felt in control again, you hadn’t felt this way for so long, like your soul belonged to you, you weren’t just floating in their desires, you were your own person. 

“We won’t let you leave,” Namjoon retorted, not denying your statement.

“I didn’t say I wanted to leave,” you shake your head, looking at each of them before your gaze returns to the leader of the syndicate, a challenge present in both your stares. “But you don’t get to touch me, or fuck me, or play your games.”

Every one of your new rules hit them like a punch to the gut, a cruel mocking thought passing through the air between them, this was the consequences of their fuck up, and they knew if they wanted to keep you, they would have to listen. 

“One last thing,” you say after a lot of deliberating, a squeeze in your throat trying to stop you getting the words out, a deep frown set between your eyes. “I don’t want you to call me little love anymore.”

#how many times have I used this gif #bts au #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts ot7 x reader #bts x you #bts yandere!au #bts yandere #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #yandere yoongi #yandere seokjin #yandere namjoon #yandere taehyung #yandere jimin #yandere hoseok #bts mafia imagine #bts mafia!au #bts mafia #bts mafia series

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - You’re Insecure about Your Weight

Warnings: trigger warning for ED!!, smut, a bit of NSFW, profanity

A/N: This request was submitted a while ago in response to Stray Kids! Mafia - They Want You to Sit on Their Lap but You’re Insecure about Your Weight so I hope you like this fic! I'm sorry it took me so long <3

P.S. I didn't proofread so I'm sorry if there are any typos.

* * *

Jin

You were getting ready in the bathroom; it was work day so both you and Jin were awake early in the morning. You hurried into the kitchen where Jin was sitting at the table, reading the news on his laptop with a cup of coffee.

"Any more coffee left, Jin?" you asked absent-mindedly as you reached for the pot.

"Of course, love," said Jin equally distracted, however, he was not distracted by the news or because it was so early you both just wanted to roll back into bed. Jin's eyes glazed across your body; your bare feet and pyjama shorts and a shirt you had claimed from your boyfriend months ago that seemed to perpetually smell like him no matter how many times you had washed it.

When you turned around with a cup of hot coffee in your hands, ready to nearly jog back to the bathroom to finish your make up, Jin took the cup carefully from your hands and set in on the table.

"Jin, what are you doing?" you asked slowly.

"Admiring," he spoke with a voice so deep and husky it made goosebumps rise on your arms and legs.

Jin moved his arm around your waist and pushed his chair back so that you could sit on his lap.

"Jin..." you protested, "I'm going to be late." It was only half a lie. In truth, you were insecure about your weight. You could always feel the stares on your body when you appeared with Jin in public; comparing you to him.

Jin didn't say anything but pulled you on his lap. You closed your eyes as he kissed your lips, your hand caressing his freshly shaven cheek.

"Jin..." you protested again when he moved from your lips to your jaw and your neck, leaving soft kisses on his way. "Jin... Aren't I too heavy?" you mumbled, finding yourself hoovering above his lap. Jin let out a breath of laughter and continued kissing your neck, his arms only tightening around your waist.

"Jin," you begged once again and this time the tone of your voice stroke a chord with Jin.

"You can't be serious, princess?" asked Jin, finally lifting his head to look you in the eye. You couldn't say anything.

"Sit down, princess," said Jin when he realized you have been hoovering over his lap. The look in his eyes was nothing short of demand and you could not help but do exactly as he asked.

"Where is this coming from, Y/N?" questioned Jin as you avoided his gaze. "Y/N?"

"I just... I see the way people look at us when we're together, Jin," you began. "I'm not good enough for y-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Y/N," warned Jin. His grip on your waist tightened as he stood up and sat you on top of the table, him standing between your legs, your foreheads nearly touching.

"The only thing they are thinking, princess, is that you could do better than a gangster," said Jin lowly, his hands sliding up your bare thighs. "That they wish they had you instead," continued Jin and took your hips, pulling them closer to him as his lips found yours.

"You will be late today, after all, princess."

Namjoon

You woke up to a cold spring morning but it was the weekend, thankfully, so you could sleep in. You curled up in your comforter but it did nothing to warm you. Instead, you scooted closer to your boyfriend who was or at least seemed sound asleep. You wrapped your hands around his arm and snuggled closer.

"What is it, baby?" whispered Namjoon in his sleep.

"I'm cold," you mumbled against his arm.

"Come 'ere, baby," whispered Namjoon, his entire chest vibrating with his rough morning voice. He lifted his arm to let you in, his body absolutely radiating heat. You could not help but moan when Namjoon wrapped his arms around you and warmth engulfed your body. He had yet a better idea, however, and pulled you on top of his body so that his chest was your pillow.

"Wait... Joon," you mumbled. "I'm going to crush you."

Namjoon smiled to himself and tangled his fingers in your soft hair. But as you began shifting to get off him, Namjoon's eyes fluttered open.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked with a voice much more awake.

"Who is going to keep me warm tomorrow if I smother you with my weight today?" you said, neither entirely serious but not joking either. You have been feeling insecure about your weight for a while now, especially when you compared yourself to Namjoon who was a living demi-god.

"What are you talking about, Y/N?" asked Namjoon when you managed to slip from his chest and back onto his side. You were going to get up and avoid confessing your insecurities to him, but Namjoon's arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

"You're not going anywhere, Y/N, until you talk to me," demanded Namjoon, his eyebrows furrowing together.

"It's nothing, Joon, I was just joking," you tried to brush it off but he wasn't buying it. His grip on your waist only toughened. You leaned back in your pillow, defeated by the stubbornness in your boyfriend's eyes. Namjoon leaned against his elbow as he studied your expression.

"Come on, talk to me, baby," he spoke softly this time and tucked a thin strand of your hair behind your ear. The gentle tone of his voice only made you feel worse. Tears prickled in your eyes despite your best efforts; suddenly you felt weak and whiny although your insecurities had been weighing down on you for weeks.

A tear slipped from each of your eyes. "I'm sorry," you whispered and covered your face with your hand.

"Y/N..." said Namjoon in a tone so quiet and gentle you thought your heart was going to break. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," you whispered although more tears welled up in your eyes, "I'm just being stupid. I'm sorry..." Your chin quivered before you turned around and buried your face in your pillow.

"Y/N," said Namjoon as he kissed your neck lovingly, "Don't talk about yourself that way," his voice firmed. "Don't you dare put yourself down, do you understand?" Namjoon drew circles with his thumb against your abdomen, pressing more loving kisses on your arm and neck.

"Look at me, Y/N," he insisted. It took all you had in you to face him. Namjoon brushed away some of your tears and kissed your lips. "You're perfect," he assured before kissing you deeply. "If you say something like this again, we're going to have a problem."

You couldn't help but laugh through your tears as you nodded, brushing away your tears.

"Okay?" said Namjoon, a smile spreading across his lips. "That's my girl," he whispered against your lips before deepening the kiss.

Yoongi

"You shouldn't work that hard," you said to your boyfriend when you brought him a cup of extra-espresso-shot iced americano. You went to your usual weekly grocery shopping trip, this time without Yoongi because he was buried in work, and stopped by a coffee shop on the way back.

"Oh, you're an angel, baby," sighed Yoongi and gratefully took the iced americano from your hands. He took a sip immediately, leaning back in his office chair. His pitch black eyes lingered on you, wishing he could take a nap with you instead of dealing with countless companies' bureaucracy.

"Come here, baby," said Yoongi instead as he put away his coffee and opened his arms for you.

"Are you sure?" you licked your lips nervously. Yoongi frowned.

"What are you talking about?" asked Yoongi.

"No, n-nothing," you shrugged it off even though you had spent the better part of grocery shopping reading calorie labels on the back of the packagins. You have been feeling the pressure of losing weight for a couple of months now although you always struggled with body image when it came to your weight. The pressure, however, was not generated by Yoongi in any way; perhaps on a subconscious level where you considered how you look like in comparison to him; how people looked at you together...

You sat on Yoongi's lap gently, careful not to apply too much weight on him. You leaned in to kiss him but Yoongi pulled away, an icy cold stare in his dark eyes.

"What are you doing, Y/N?" he spoke slowly.

"What?" you asked innocently although you knew that he knew what you were doing.

"Sit down," ordered Yoongi.

"I am," you lied as you licked your lips. Yoongi tilted his head, a look so determined in his eyes he did not even blink.

"Sit down," repeated Yoongi so sternly that for a moment you were actually scared.

You slowly eased your weight and sat down properly but your eyes watered at the same time. You tried to look away but it was too late. Yoongi took your cheek and made you look at him. His lips parted when he saw how much this really affected you. His thumb caressed away a single tear that escaped your eyes.

"Tell me what's going on, kitten," asked Yoongi gently, his voice nearly a whisper. You stared at him, your gaze flickering between his eyes. You bit your lip to keep more tears from falling but it did not help. Yoongi pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you as you buried your face in his neck, suddenly crying your heart out. You told Yoongi about how you have been struggling lately; how you have always been struggling with your self-image really. He listened patiently although he could not believe you would think of yourself as anything less than perfect in every way. To him you were the most beautiful woman in the world; smart, gentle and kind.

"Why didn't you tell me before, kitten?" asked Yoongi after you had calmed down a bit.

"I just... I didn't want to upset you, Yoongi," you shook your head and brushed away the tear stains from your cheeks.

"I am upset," confirmed Yoongi, his hold around your waist tightening slightly as you looked up into his eyes. "I'm upset that you didn't trust me enough to tell me sooner-"

"Yoongi, no! It's not that I don't trust you! I trust you with my life!" you cried. "It's just... This is such a stupid problem, it does not even matter-"

"Of course it matters!" said Yoongi angrily. "The fact that you feel anything less than perfect in any way is something I will never understand and the fact that I don't know how to make you see yourself the way I see you, is driving me insane." Suddenly you realized that Yoongi's anger was not at all targeted at you but at himself; how he wasn't able to make you feel good enough.

Yoongi stood up with you in his arms and sat you down on his desk. His forehead rested against yours, his hands propped against the desk on each side of your legs.

"Can't you see I would die for you, Y/N?"

Hoseok

"What if we just stay in tonight, Hobi?" you asked your boyfriend, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, in the midst of picking your outfit for the benefit tonight.

"Why? I thought you were looking forward to it," said Hoseok as he fixed his bowtie in front of the bathroom mirror. "Are you feeling alright, baby?" He came to you and cupped your cheeks, looking absolutely stunning in his tuxedo.

"I'm okay," you nodded, "I'm just not feeling like going out tonight..." You were not exactly lying, however the reason why you did not feel like going out was something you had been trying to hide from Hoseok for weeks now. You could notice perfectly well yourself that you had put on some weight without even weighing yourself. The clothes fit you tighter than usual which already made you more self-conscious.

Hoseok glanced at the bedroom behind you. The bed was littered with dresses and outfits you thought did not look good on you. The strange thing was that you always knew what to wear; fashion was something you actually really enjoyed and Hoseok knew this because he loved to take you shopping. Clothes and fashion was a passion you both shared.

"What's really going on, Y/N?" asked your boyfriend soberly.

"What do you mean?" you asked genuinely before glancing over your shoulder and realizing what a mess you've made.

"Since when do you not know what to wear?" asked Hoseok, moving past you into the bedroom to take a look at the display of dresses on the bed.

"I just... Wasn't feeling inspired tonight," you only half-lied. You knew what you wanted to wear but the dress you picked out in your head suddenly did not seem to look good on you anymore; at least from your point of view.

"Yeah, but why?" insisted Hoseok, returning his gaze to you. Your crossed your arms over your abdomen subconsciously, not even realizing what you did until you saw Hoseok's gaze follow your gesture.

"Y/N?" he asked one more time and came up to you.

"It's nothing," you spoke quietly. Hoseok narrowed his eyes at you.

"It's fine, really, Hoseok," you said more confidently, "It's just... I've gained a bit of weight lately... I'm sure you've noticed... and I just..." your voice trailed off. "But I'm going to be fine; I'll work out more, I'll watch my-"

"Y/N, stop it," demanded Hoseok as he cut you off and cupped your cheeks with his big, warm hands. "What are you even talking about? No, I haven't noticed you gaining weight," he frowned, "And you know why? Because it doesn't fucking matter, that's why. You're perfect to me any way you are, Y/N, do you understand me?"

You stared in Hoseok's brown eyes, wishing you were worthy of his love. Your eyes welled up with tears as you looked away, hundreds of reasons why you were not good enough for Hoseok replaying in your mind.

"Y/N," spoke Hoseok gently, "Are you crying?"

"I'm fine," you said quickly as you turned around and wiped away the tears.

"You're not fine, don't lie to me," said Hoseok and took your elbow as he caught you when you tried to leave. He wrapped his arms around your hips and pulled you to his chest as he hugged you from behind, burying his nose in your neck.

"I'm begging you, Y/N," spoke Hoseok fervently, "Don't even try to lose any weight. You're perfect just the way you are... And I won't have you put yourself down like this, do you hear me?" he demanded. You were crying but his arms held you from falling apart.

"Do you understand me, Y/N?" spoke Hoseok more gently. You found yourself nodding as you sniffled. Hoseok turned you around and pulled you into his arms.

"That's right, that's a good girl," he whispered soothingly and kissed your hair.

Jimin

You were cleaning around the apartment one afternoon, singing along the music on the TV. You were deep in thought when suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You gasped, jumping around with your hand across your heart as you realized it was only Jimin.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, baby," he smiled guiltily, his hands resting on your hips.

"You're home already?" you blurted although it came out differently than you had intended.

"You're not happy to see me, kitten?" asked Jimin, half taken aback, half amused.

"N-No, of course I am," you spoke quickly, "I just, I wasn't expecting you till this evening, that's all." You slipped from Jimin's arms before he could kiss you and went to the bedroom to grab a hoodie. You wore nothing but a pair of sweatpants and a tanktop that fit you tightly; too tightly. You pulled on a baggy hoodie that swallowed your body and hid your curves.

When you turned around, Jimin was standing by the bedroom door, his eyebrows furrowed together.

"What are you doing?"

"Huh? Nothing," you said quickly. Jimin kept your gaze locked with his as he made his way over to you. He leaned in to kiss you which you gladly responded to, wrapping your hands around his neck. But when his arms reached for your hips once more, you pulled away. If Jimin had not yet noticed you had gained weight by looking at you, he would surely know it when he touched you.

"Why won't you let me touch you?" asked Jimin and frowned once again.

"Wh... What are you talking about? We just kissed," you smiled dismissively and went to fold some clothes although they were already folded quite neatly.

It happened so fast; like the blind of an eye. Jimin was right behind you and he put his arms around your waist so quickly, you only managed to turn around but not elude him. Breath caught in the back of your neck as you looked up at him. Jimin slid his hands beneath your hoodie and squeezed your hips.

"Jimin, come on," you whimpered and pulled down your hoodie, trying to get him to let go of you.

"See? What the hell is going on?" asked Jimin as you slipped him away once again.

"Nothing," you rose your voice in frustration but rather than with anger, your words were laced with sadness. Your eyes watered over and over again and you pushed back the tears every time.

"What did I do, Y/N? Just tell me, I'll fix it, baby, I promise," asked Jimin.

"You did nothing wrong, Jimin, it's not your fault," you said but this time you were unable to stop the tears from falling. Your chin quivered as you looked away and more tears stained your cheeks.

"Baby?" said Jimin softly. "What's happening? Are you alright?" He came to you but just as he was going to pull you into his arms, he stopped himself. Instead, his gaze went to your abdomen which you hid with your arms crossed over it subconsciously.

"Are you doing this because you've gained some weight?" asked Jimin. His words made your head spin around and your eyes widen.

"You knew?" you asked shocked. Jimin stared at you puzzled.

"Of course I know, baby. You're my girl... We live together," he said slowly.

"But... Why didn't you say something?" your voice cracked.

"Why would I say anything? You're perfect to me no matter how much you weigh, Y/N," said Jimin as he cupped your cheeks. His thumbs brushed the tears from your face.

"B-But I... I'm ugly," you cried, a heart-breaking sob escaping your lips.

"You're not ugly," warned Jimin and made you look at him. "You - are - not - ugly, Y/N," he repeated. "Don't you ever say that again. Ever. Or we're going to have a fucking problem."

"But..." you whimpered although you did not know what to say.

"But nothing, baby. You're perfect," he assured, his forehead leaned against yours as he leaned in and kissed you. "So fucking perfect," murmured Jimin against your lips before deepening the kiss.

Taehyung

Taehyung was sitting in his armchair, his laptop sat on top of his legs as he dealt with some work matter. You took advantage of this time to start a book that's been on your reading list since forever. But when Taehyung saw you bent over your bag, digging for the book in nothing but shorts and a top, his work quickly became his last priority.

He closed the laptop and put it away as he got up and made his way over to you. His arms wrapped around your waist, making you gasp in surprise, as he pulled you onto the sofa with him, sitting you in his lap. You caught yourself just in time before you could crush him with your weight.

"Tae, what are you doing?" you laughed. "I thought you had work to do," you teased him as you tried to get up, but Taehyung would not let you. His arms were like a chain around your waist, his big brown eyes gazing and shifting between your eyes and lips.

"Nah, when did I say that?" murmured Taehyung, his entire chest vibrating with his husky voice.

"Come on, Tae," you tried to get up again as you grew uncomfortable. You were not the slimmest, on the contrary, you were rather curvy and voluptuous, something which Taehyung never seemed to mind. You, on the other hand, were always self-conscious about your weight. Whenever Taehyung would have you sit on his lap, you found yourself hoovering. Not because you were uncomfortable being in his arms, but because you thought you would hurt him somehow.

"Are you hoovering?" asked Taehyung out of the sudden as if he were reading your thoughts.

"W-What?" you stuttered, taken aback. Taehyung was staring at you, his eyes studying yours without so much as blinking once.

"I said, are you hoovering?" spoke Taehyung more slowly, making goosebumps rise up and down your arms.

"I-I just... I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Tae," you confessed. "What... What if I hurt you?"

Taehyung laughed. You looked at him with hurtful eyes. That is when Taehyung realized you were being serious although to him, he had just heard the most ridiculous thing on earth.

"What are you talking about, princess?" said Taehyung seriously.

"I... I know I weigh more than a lot of other girls... and I see the way people look at us when we're together..." you spoke quietly as tears gathered in your eyes.

"Like what, princess?" asked Taehyung sternly. "Look at me," he demanded as he rose your chin with his hand.

"Like... Like I'm not good enough for you," you confessed, your chin quivering as tears escaped your eyes at last. You looked down and tried to keep yourself from crying but it wasn't as easy as that.

Taehyung was watching you but this time he did not make you look at him. His heart was breaking enough without seeing your big beautiful eyes red with tears.

"I'm the one who is not good enough for you," said Taehyung soberly, making your head snap up.

"W-What? N-No," you cried and reached your hand to his cheek. "P-Please don't say this," you begged.

"Than you must not say it either, princess," said Taehyung, leading your face to his. "We're perfect for each other. You're fucking perfect, do you understand me?" he growled under his breath, his forehead leaning against yours.

"Do you understand me, Y/N?" demanded Taehyung and you could not help but nod.

"Good," he spoke lowly. "Now, sit down, princess."

Jungkook

Jungkook was working in his office when you came by to meet him for lunch. It was a beautiful sunny day after a long time so you wore a short sundress to celebrate it. The sun felt divine against your bare legs before you entered the building and took the elevator up. Jungkook's secretary was more than familiar with you and buzzed you right in.

"He is expecting you, Ms Y/N," she greeted from behind her desk and let you right in. You thanked her before you knocked lightly on the office door before you came in. Jungkook was behind his massive writing desk, leaning back in his chair. A frown rested on his face before he rose his gaze and saw you in front of him. His frustration, his worries all disappeared when his eyes found yours.

"Hey, kitten," said Jungkook smoothly as he stood up and came over to greet you. You met him half way, his arms locking around your waist as he kissed you longingly. He leaned against his desk, you standing between his legs.

"I missed you so much, kitten," murmured Jungkook against your neck where he left a soft kiss as he took in your wonderful perfume. "Come," he asked and took your hand. He sat in his office chair and pulled you gently in his lap. You supressed a gasp, barely catching yourself from putting your entire weight on him.

"What are you doing?" asked Jungkook, clearly noticing you were not comfortable.

"Nothing, it's just... Aren't I a bit heavy?" you asked genuinely, your voice turning quiet. Jungkook stared at you motionlessly.

"You're not laughing, so I take it you're actually being serious, kitten?" asked Jungkook, his eyebrows once again furrowing into a frown. You did not get a chance to respond because Jungkook grasped your waist tightly and forced you to shift your entire weight onto his lap. Breath caught in the back of your throat as your foreheads nearly touched.

"No, you're not too heavy, kitten," said Jungkook under his breath, his chest vibrating beneath your hand. His mouth brushed against yours, his tongue gently parting your lips. One of Jungkook's hands moved down your hip to your thigh where it slid beneath the skirt of your dress. A small gasp escaped your lips.

"Let me show you how absolutely perfect you are, kitten," purred Jungkook against the soft skin of your neck.

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