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#This Mafia AU is my life now I'm sorry
ainsleysays · 2 years
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Mafia!Shane, ready to beat some more ass.
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your geto fic is super cute 🥰 if you're taking more requests, may I request a sukuna fic please? maybe in an au where he's a gangster and reader is of a classy, rich family so reader's parents don't agree, but then sukuna appears in one of their events in a suit and looking dashing as ever!
ooooooooo it's 3 am but i have to write this down!!!!!!!!!
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shadows and silk.
summary: sukuna shows you and your parents that he is absolutely the right and the only man for you (whether they agree or not) genre: angst/fluff pairing: gangster!sukuna x female reader warnings: cursing, modern day au, not a great parent-child relationship, ooc sukuna
Masterlist
-----
your father doesn't even bother to hide his disapproval. "he has tattoos on his face. what if he's in the mafia- what have you brought our family into?!"
"father-"
"i am," sukuna clarifies, "in the mafia. my father is the leader. and one day, it'll be my time to lead."
your parents gasp in shock, surprised by sukuna's brashness.
"that wasn't a threat," he clarifies again, holding your hand. "i love your daughter, and i'd like to have a good relationship with you both. because it's important to her."
you smile appreciatively and grasp his hand, looking at your parents with hope.
"you're fucking insane."
-----
it was probably not the wisest decision to ask for your parents' approval, knowing what kind of people they are. being one of the richest families in the country, it's hard to have... any kind of life outside of what they had planned for you. like a pawn in their game of chess, your choices have been made for you since the very beginning.
unlike sukuna, you grew up "perfect". you aced your piano lessons, easily graduated from your violin school, and got straight As in all your grades. every day was the same for you; wake up, school, extra lessons, homework, sleep, and repeat.
that's actually how you met sukuna. one day, there was something wrong with the traffic so your driver was late. you'd been waiting for an hour, and sukuna just happened to finish his detention.
"hm?" his eyes caught you standing by the gate. "aren't you that rich kid?"
you looked up at him and analyzed his face -- high school student with face tattoos, you don't see that very often. "who's asking?"
"tsk, tsk." he chuckled, "so much attitude for a little person." he ruffled your hair before walking in the other direction. "wanna come? i'm gonna go have some fun."
fun... the word was so unfamiliar to you. you'd never talked to him before, and though it really was probably dangerous to just go with someone whose name you didn't even know, you couldn't help yourself. especially not when he turned around with a smile, urging you to come with him.
he took you to places you've never been before and made you feel things you've never felt. you felt free from your parents' chains, for once you felt like you could do whatever you wanted.
and sukuna was glad he could make you smile. you, the girl who always kept to herself in class, quiet, polite, almost scared. you made him feel things, too.
you got an earful from your parents that day, but the cute keychain sukuna won you from the night market was worth it.
now, the keychain hangs on your favorite bag, one that he also got you a few weeks ago. though you already have multiple designer bags that are much more expensive, the bag sukuna gave you was priceless.
"morning, baby." sukuna greets you, kissing your cheek.
"morning," you smile at him. "i'm sorry for how yesterday went. my father, he's-"
"let him be," he says. "nothing can keep me away from you, understand?"
you smile at his words and nod, "you better keep it as a promise."
sukuna smiles and kisses you, "i swear it."
he wonders what he could've possibly done to deserve someone like you.
-----
"what do you mean i'm getting married?"
your father sighs. "don't be difficult. the gojo clan is the most powerful, you should be thankful they're letting you marry their son."
"but father, i have a boyfriend, and i just graduated college! i- i can't marry, i still have so much i want to-"
"enough!" he yells, "you're marrying gojo satoru by the end of next month and that's final."
you're lucky that you have your own apartment. dialing sukuna's number, you get into your car and drive home where sukuna says he's waiting for you.
"ugh, unbelievable!" you throw your keys on the table, letting it slide off and annoying you even more.
he grimaces and sits you down, handing over a glass of water. "so it didn't go well..."
you sigh, "...they're arranging a marriage. with the gojo clan."
sukuna's jaw clenches, anger evident, but then it disappears. "that makes sense. they are the strongest and the richest."
"they're not giving me an option, like always-"
"gojo satoru is pretty handsome," he continues, "blue eyes, tall, quite built.. he's not a bad bachelor."
you squint your eyes at your boyfriend who seems like he's talking nonsense... or not really. "what are you trying to say?"
sukuna sighs. "we should break up."
the words that come out of his mouth after that are all blurry to you. something along the lines of...
"we've been together for years."
"it's time to get a fresh start."
"aren't you curious what it's like to date other people?"
"i'm getting bored to be honest."
and it all just seems like bullshit. bullshit because why is he looking at you like that when he's breaking up with you? why does he look like he's still madly in love with you and saying all that stuff is killing him?
why does he look like he's lying?
"tell me you're joking."
sukuna, unfortunately, doesn't humor you and leaves you alone in your apartment without saying anything else.
the rest of the month feels like hell. you tried running away from your parents, the guards they sent after you, but to no avail. somehow, they've repurchased your apartment and now you're back to living with them.
you met gojo satoru once throughout the entire month. he's decent, and actually a good guy like sukuna said, but he's not sukuna. he doesn't leave a random flower he picked up on the way to your place, he doesn't shower your hands with kisses when he sees you, and that's all expected -- because it's not supposed to be a loving relationship. it's a contract. once you marry him, your parents' company will merge with the gojos and become even richer.
today's the engagement party. your mother has chosen the perfect red gown for good luck, and she's made all the preparations for the party -- you, like always, never had a say in anything.
you feel like an object for them to trade with. compared to the gold bars sitting in their safe, you're probably worth less.
"i know you also didn't agree to this," gojo satoru whispers as you're both sat down in the middle of the ballroom while everyone else enjoys their meal. "but you look beautiful."
you offer him a polite smile, which turns rather sad. hidden in your sleeve is the keychain sukuna got you. your mother managed to throw away every cherished memory you had of him except for the keychain.
you wonder what sukuna is doing right now... if he's enjoying his life, if he maybe has a new girl by his side...
"sorry to shit on your party," your head snaps up the moment you hear that familiar voice, and a gasp escapes when you see the even more familiar tattooed face with pink hair. "but i'm going to have to kidnap your fiancee for a bit. maybe forever."
"..ryo." you stand up abruptly, letting your chair fall and hit the ground. he's dressed in a white suit, black vest, black shirt, and a matching black tie. he looks like he's ready to be your groom.
giving you the smile you miss most, sukuna stands in front of you and grabs your hand. "hi, princess."
"what are you doing here?" you whisper, tears about to fall from your eyes.
"saving my damsel in distress." he softens when he sees your lip tremble, kissing you gently. "i told you nothing can keep me away from you."
"but you-"
behind you, gojo satoru clears his throat, motioning to the many guards surrounding both of you, ready to pull you two apart by force.
"let my daughter go right now." your father demands.
you grasp sukuna's arm tightly, not planning on letting him go any time soon. in return, he has his arm around your waist, pulling you to him gently before he snaps his fingers, revealing rows and rows of armed men ready to fire.
the guards immediately stand down, obviously outnumbered. they let you and sukuna leave without a fight, and you stop for a second to spare a glance at your parents, looking at you disapprovingly.
-----
you're sitting on sukuna's bed. you've only been to this place a few times, considering he moves around a lot. he's helping you with the infinity amount of hairpins you have stuck in your hair while you take off the red gown you're wearing.
"ryo," you call him.
he hums to acknowledge you, mouth full of hairpins.
"...why did you break up with me?"
taking out the last piece of hairpin (he thinks it's the last), he throws them away before sitting behind you, arms snaked around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder.
"i... i thought i was doing you a favor," he admits, "with my job... it's not easy being with me, you know? i'm scared you'll think i'm a monster for what i do - it still terrifies me."
"so i thought if i just pushed you away, it'll make things easier for both of us," his grip on you tightens, "but it didn't. at least not for me. and i know i'm being selfish here by wanting you back, i know i don't deserve it, but i just... i can't imagine living without you. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."
you turn around to face him, straddling his thighs and kissing him softly. "if being selfish means i'm stuck with you, then you need to be more selfish."
he grins, arms wrapping around you. "i love you."
"i love you more, ryo."
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vivwritesfics · 3 months
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Jester Stole His Thorny Crown
Chapter One
He never had a choice in his life. His dreams were nothing more that that. Dreams. But then he met a lounge singer at his brother club and everything changed.
Mafia!Au
1.2K
Warnings: drugs (not taken), gun violence
Series Masterlist
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This wasn't his job. It was beneath him, usually a job for his inexperienced little brother. But Arthur was at home, being looked after by their maman as he nursed a non-fatal gunshot wound.
Charles was pissed as he drove through the streets of Monaco. This was Arthur's job, not his. If he had listened to Charles and Lorenzo, and hadn't run in with guns (quite literally) blazing, they wouldn't be in this position.
The people of Monaco knew about the people who, essentially owned them. They had a royal family, but they didn't have as much Power as the Leclercs. As soon as they saw the black Ferrari SF90 Stradale, they knew to get out of the way.
On this day, the only thing stopping Charles from driving into everybody in his way was his love for his precious car. As soon as he had checked through the clubs, he was going to go to his mamans house and murder Arthur.
Charles parked his car. Well, parked is a term used loosely. He stopped the car wherever he wanted and every other driver on the roads of Monaco had to work around him. This was maybe one of the best demonstrations of power that the Leclerc family had.
When Charles walked into the first club, the twenty six year old was reminded of why he hated it so much. He had loved it when he was a fresh faced eighteen year old, receiving his first assignment from his father.
But now this was Arthurs job, appointed by Lorenzo. He had taken over as head of the family when they lost their father, just a year after Charles had received his first assignment.
The family didn't handle it well. The Leclerc's had almost started a full on war with the Gasly family of France. But Pascale, the matriarch, kept them in check.
The club was disgusting. It was the middle of the day so it was empty, aside from the club manager. The floor was covered in cups and bottles and odd sticky patches that that Charles was sure to avoid. There was the odd condom on the floor; Charles turned his nose up at that.
He checked the books, make sure the money was in order. He swapped out the cash in the safe for the drugs that the club sold. "Get this shithole cleaned up," he commanded the club manager and left.
The second club was much the same. He inspected the books and swapped the money in the safe for the drugs. This club was somehow dirtier than the first one. Several of the stall doors in the bathroom had been kicked in (Charles wasn't happy about leaving money for such things).
The third club Charles knew it be Arthurs favourite.
It wasn't a night club, more like a lounge. The lighting was low, with tables covering the floor. Comfortable, cosy booths lined the walls and the tables in the middle of the of the floor looked equally as comfortable. The art on the wall was tasteful and the air didn't stink like beer and piss.
Soft piano music greeted him and Charles realised why this was Arthurs favourite club. It felt legit.
Charles looked to the piano on the stage at the back of the club. There was a spotlight pointed towards it, illuminating the instrument and the girl playing it. As he approached, Charles watched her fingers dance across the keys. The tune was soft and melodic, not something that he recognised.
She seemed to be the only person in the club. "One second, Arthur!" She called, not looking up from her piano.
Charles stopped short. "I'm sorry?" He called and the piano music stopped. "Are you always familiar with my brother?"
Her eyes were wide as she stood and closed the lid of her grand piano. "Shit," she hissed, but Charles still heard it. "I'm so sorry, Mr Leclerc. I was expecting your brother."
Charles stepped onto the stage. His presence alone was terrifying, a far cry from Arthur, who treated the pianist like an old friend. She couldn't stop her knees from buckling as he approached. "He got shot," Charles said as he sat at the piano. "He'll be back in action soon."
He lifted the lid of the piano and pressed a key. As a boy Chalres had loved the piano. His father had encouraged him to play, but he hadn't touched a piano since Hervé dad passed. Even now, he couldn't bring himself to play more than a few notes.
"Are you the manager here?" Charles asked, again shutting the piano lid. She shook her head, eyes looked towards the bar while he continued to stare at her. "You shouldn't be in here, then."
She sucked in a breath. The gun in his waistband had become apparent the moment he sat at the piano. "Uhm, Arthur gave me a key so that I could come in and practice," she said as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
Charles let out something of a controlled huff and stood from the piano. He headed past the stage, to where the office was, and instantly began searching through the desk for the books.
The pianist followed him. "You shouldn't be in here," he said and pulled out the papers he needed. She was still standing in the doorway as he checked through it. "Seriously, get out."
"I'm sorry," she said, still leaning against the door frame. "I just... is Arthur okay?"
Charles stared at her for a moment before nodding his head, but he didn't look happy. "A minor gunshot wound," he said. "He's sleeping on our mouths couch at the moment."
Letting out a relieved breath, she walked away from the back office, allowing Charles to swap the money in the safe for drugs.
When he returned to the main floor, the piano was empty. The lid was open, but the pianist wasn't there. Charles didn't check for where she was.
He sat himself at the piano and pressed three keys in a specific tune. It was all so familiar to him, flooding back to him. It had been so long, but it was natural. It was right.
The pianist, Y/N, was at the bar, getting herself a glass of water. The moment she saw Charles walk to the piano she stopped and watched.
He was hesitant at first, allowing himself to get used to the keys. But it didn't take very long for him to get comfortable. Soon enough he was playing like it was the only thing he knew today.
It wasn't perfect, it was barely good, but it was full of heart and soul. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him as he sped up slightly, getting more and more comfortable. There was nothing in the world but him and the music.
Finishing up the song Charles sucked in and rolled his shoulders. He looked around the club, looked at the empty tables, at the art on the wall and at the bar.
He narrowed his eyes as he stood up and walked over. "Were you watching me?" He demanded and she quickly shook her head, looking down at the glass of water in her hands.
"Don't," he barked and marched out of the club.
Permanent taglist: @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @minkyungseokie @formulaal @darleneslane @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris
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sunnebeam · 10 months
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"i always get the job done."
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A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.
pairing: min yoongi x reader
plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.
warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi being unironically romantic
masterlist + disclaimers.
note: tysm for all the love in the first drabble! here's more of househubby!yoongi & his badass wife,, as always, lemme know ur thoughts :>
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You're stepping off the bus, having clocked out of work earlier than usual, when you see your husband strolling along the sidewalk with his signature apron on and a mesh tote bag on his shoulder.
"Yoonie!" you call out to him.
Your heels clack against the pavement as you run towards him. The bits of impact hurt your soles but you forget all about the pain when Yoongi kisses you on the forehead as soon as you reach him.
"You're early," he remarks, grabbing your hand and placing it on his bicep before walking the two of you to the direction he was going.
"Boss let us leave early," you explain, oblivious to the looks that other passersby are giving you and your husband.
("Is he a gangster?"
"He looks so scary!"
"What is he doing with that woman?"
"Is he kidnapping her?!")
It's when Yoongi leads you to a secluded alley that you realize you're not heading towards your home.
"Uh, Yoonie? Where are we going?"
Your husband smiles radically.
"You'll see."
He leads you through a bunch of twists and corners before finally arriving at an equally secluded shop. The dim lighting does nothing to deter him as he opens the squeaky door and leads you both inside.
"Ah, Yoongi," a deep rumble echoes as soon as you walk in. "You're back."
"Of course," your husband responds. "I did everything you told me to do."
Huh?
"Did you, now?" the voice taunts, and you can finally match a face to the voice when he steps into the light. "Are you sure you did everything?"
"I always get the job done. You know me, Seokjin."
The job?
The man called Seokjin sneers before nodding and heading to his shop's backroom, leaving you and your husband alone.
"Yoonie?" you call his name. "What's going on?"
"A gamble, darling," he tells you. "I'm making a gamble."
Your eyes widen. "What?! Are you—"
"Yoongi, are you ready?"
Seokjin emerges from the backroom with a big cork board in tow. The board is brightly decorated, divided into three sections each showing different...
"...prizes?" you think out loud. "Yoonie, what is all this?"
"A stamp scavenger hunt, darling," your husband explains in a no-nonsense tone as Seokjin hands him a dart. "I've collected ten stamps from ten different stores like Seokjin told me to."
Oh. Oh.
"Why didn't you just say so?" you laugh, nerves vanishing as you take a good look at the cork board. "Well, what's the prize?"
"Third place gets a cute plushie," Seokjin gives you the rundown. "Second place gets a self-cleaning robot vaccuum—"
("That's what I was hoping to get.")
"—and first place gets an all-expense paid trip for two to Jeju."
("Yoonie, forget the vaccuum. Get this!")
And so the gamble begins.
The three of you wait with bated breaths as Yoongi positions himself. His eyes are closed and he blows air on the blunt end of the dart as if it'll help. Opening his eyes, he takes a deep breath, swings his arm back lightly, then throws the dart.
It lands on third place.
"Oooooh! It looks so cute!" you squeal, taking the cute plushie from Seokjin and hugging it to your chest. "It looks like Holly!"
Your happy giggles flood the shop.
"Well, Yoongi," Seokjin tuts. "Sorry but..." He smirks. "Looks like you lost."
Your husband looks at you nuzzling the plushie in delight.
"You fool," Yoongi says, "haven't you realized by now?" Now he's the one smirking. "The true prize is seeing my beautiful wife's smile—"
"Yoonie! Stop embarrassing me!"
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COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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adonis-koo · 4 months
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sweet nothing • 9
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| in which he patiently waits one day at a time|
↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.
His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader
↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!
Word count: 2.9k
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Note: no matter how many scenes i write, they're all sad and i'm kinda sorry bc i said this fic wasn't going to have much plot but it somehow has a lot of plot now??? and its kinda sad??? HERE YOU GUYS GO THO
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The commotion going on in the estate wasn’t difficult to tell, men had been actively walking more than their usual rotations required and Jungkook knew this was a sign you were causing some sort of chaos as you seemed to do every day now. 
And upon following the trail it led him just a door down from your own room, items being moved and you were currently pouting as you sighed. 
“Do tell me what your idea is for this little renovation project.” Jungkook hummed, leaning against the door, not actually annoyed at how much you always move things around in his estate in fact…Dare he say he felt a little endeared. 
And Jungkook found himself falling into old habits, habit he found himself missing, such as being able to take the time to admire you, all thoughts of work fading from his head at the sight of your dress, just past your knees and a faded checker blue, flowing sleeves that went to your elbows for room and of course the ever growing bump. 
Your hands were set around it seemingly pouting over something before his words drew you out of your thoughts, “Jungkook, I didn’t realize you were home so early.” 
“I have a meeting I have to attend in person later,” Jungkook replied, “You didn’t answer my question.” 
There it was again, that small pout he hadn’t realized he missed so much until it dawned your lips once more, “Well…” You seemed a bit hesitant before you spoke, “I gave it some thought- what we talked about a few days ago, about a nursery and I figured you were right. It’s better we be prepared for it then not.” 
Jungkook was relieved to hear this because while he was trying his hardest to get something on Wonho, there was a smaller, more selfish part of him that enjoyed this, enjoying having you at his estate.
An even smaller part of him not wanting it to end so soon, he had to let go of you once and no it wasn’t fair, but even there was even the slightest chance…well, he didn’t want to let it slip through his fingers and have to let you go once again. 
Jungkook only nodded, “So what's with the look then?” 
“Well,” You gave him a sheepish smile, “I had all of this stuff moved out and realized I have nothing to actually put in here…” 
Jungkook couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he pushed off the frame stepping into the room, “Hm, that’s a strange way to ask for money.”
“Jungkook I wasn’t-”
“I’m teasing relax,” Jungkook cut you off, your lips tugging even poutier, you had always been like this, since day one in fact, always worried he’d think you were using him for money, always trying to deter him from paying even if you didn’t have the means to actually afford it yourself. 
It was sweet, “But you’re also in no position to not accept it and I have more than enough money to afford it- it’s a win win.” 
You stared at his outstretched hand, black shiny amex in his hand, “I don’t feel right just using it.” 
Jungkook sighed wistfully, “You didn’t seem to feel too guilty helping your brother with rates and statistics for drug sales.” 
Your lips parted somewhat in surprise, “That was different…!” 
“You’re right,” There it was that stupid teasing, charming smile of his, “It was probably worse.” 
You knew he was only teasing, but something about it made you feel gross still, you had a reason you were in that room, a reason that is long gone from you now, “Well it doesn’t matter anymore does it?” 
Jungkook paused at the sight of your expression dimming as you continued looking out the open window as your hand absently rubbed your bump, “I haven’t done that for a long time now…”
“Y/n I didn’t mean-”
“I know,” You cut him off softly looking back at him and there was an unmistakable look of regret in his eyes, not wanting to cross any lines with you but you were afraid they already had, “I just…I guess I just have some regrets about getting involved….I never wanted to hurt anyone,” You whispered out, “I had a reason I was there and it had nothing to do with the money...For myself at least.” 
Jungkook frowned, there were still so many things he didn’t know about you, your time together having been cut short when you both had first met, “What other reason could there be?” 
It was an indirect question, rather than a rhetorical one, you knew what he was asking. 
You hesitated, but then again, you supposed it didn’t matter now, it was all in the past, no matter how dull it made your heart ache. 
“Well…” You let out a soft sigh, “I’m sure you remember I wasn’t exactly financially stable, and for me that was fine. It was enough,” You nodded to yourself in thought, “It wasn’t much, but it was enough.”
“Until…?” 
“I received a phone call,” You mumbled, recalling the event, “A foster agency, telling me that they did a DNA test on one of their cases and it came out as a match on me and my brother. Just a week old, dropped off right outside the police station.” 
You had to bite down on your tongue, you had thought you were over it, but it still stung just as raw, “Since we were her only blood family I was given the opportunity to adopt her…” You let out a sigh trying to keep it together, “Except I was too poor, I didn’t even come close to having a qualifying salary to show that I could be responsible for her and take care of her…”
“What about Wonho?” Jungkook cocked his head to the side, baffled at this information. 
You let out a loud scoff, bitterness that you had tried so hard to let go of coming back up as you shook your head, “Wonho didn’t give a shit, told me that it wasn’t our problem but I struck a deal with him, if I helped him up until his annual evaluation with you for his first year of work, he’d help me get the expenses that were required to foster her.” 
Jungkook’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “And?” 
There it was, that little niggle in your head that was angry about it all, angry at Wonho, angry at yourself, especially at Jungkook, “Well all of it fell apart. Very quickly, one thing after the other. I mean obviously you dropped off the face of the planet for months so Wonho wasn’t making money- I got let go of my job because of the murder- everything went void.” 
Jungkook looked away with a long inhale as if he had been mentally prepared for the moment you’d finally cave and say it, but it wasn’t as if you were wrong, you were simply stating a fact, he completely ghosted you and civilization as everyone knew it and just like that, he had left your life as quick as he entered. 
It was difficult to not be angry about it when he was the one that convinced you that the very thing you were afraid of wouldn’t happen, just for a few short months later, let it happen. And you were sure he had his reasons, you were certain of it, but it didn’t change the fact that he left you with little to no explanation and just like that, never bothered to come back, didn’t even so much as send a letter, a proper apology, nothing. 
“I’ve…” Jungkook’s eyes squinted on the ground, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, about what happened.” 
You shook your head, “Jungkook, it’s been two years,” Your voice softened, his eyes glancing up to meet yours and once again you felt the dull ache that never went away, “I shouldn’t of brought it up, I’m sorry…it’s in the past now, life went on.” 
“Well it didn’t for me.” Jungkook let out a small breath and you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. 
Your lips quivered a little, “Do you have any right to say that?” 
“Probably not,” When did he get this close to you, “But it doesn’t change how I feel.” 
Old feelings were like a dam bursting inside you and you began to shake your head, “I’m not ready to talk about this Jungkook- can’t we just keep pretending like nothing happened?”
Jungkook shook his head, “We’ve both tried this and neither of us are good at it Y/n, I can’t, not when I have a second chance.”
You raised your brows, “No! No this is…” You took an immediate step back, “This is not what this is Jungkook, what happened is over. I’m only staying here because Wonho has a target on his back and you were kind enough to keep me out of the crossfire.” 
“Maybe that’s how it started out,” Jungkook replied just as quick, taking another step closer to you, “Look…I know it’s not fair,” He frowned, as if he hated saying it, “I had every intention to stay out of your life, it wasn’t fair to drag you along back then and that’s why I didn’t, but…You’re here now, right in front of me. So yes…I do see it as a second chance, and if there’s any way I can make it right, I will.” 
You groaned, “It’s not just making it right anymore!” You wanted to scream! “I have baggage now Jungkook!” Your eyes threatened to water as your hands dropped from your stomach, “A lot of it. It’s not just me anymore I’m getting ready to have a baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking for.” Jungkook sharply replied, eyes brewing with anger, “And what I’m asking for is you, all of you.”
“You had your chance and you left me, plain and simple, you left. I don’t understand why now…Out of all the time, two years later, now…!?” You hadn’t meant to raise your voice, but you were angry, perplexed, scared. 
Scared just the way you were when he was upfront the first time in that stupid bakery you wanted nothing more then to pretend like didn’t happen, you wanted to pretend like you never got drunk at that stupid bar, that he wasn’t late that day, that he didn’t sat down and offer to pay for your meal for making you wait. 
You wanted to pretend like he had actually listened for once when you declined him asking you out, that he didn’t visit you every morning at work, and more then anything you wanted to pretend like you had a stronger will, that you didn’t let him convince, your mind was flooding with so many memories of him. 
His hand trailing down your thigh while drunk in the back of his car, his eyes when he saw the bust in your lip, his smile when your fingers intertwined with his, his skin etched into yours for the first time, ushered sweet nothings that he’d love you forever. 
But at the time you didn’t realize that forever would only be a short three months then just like that, it was over, and oftentimes you were left many sleepless nights wondering, was it even love? Everything had happened so fast, it felt like forever. 
But two years later, standing in front of him you realized it had been two agonizingly long years since you saw him in person. 
“I made a choice,” Jungkook defended himself, “I stuck to that choice…I was leaving you alone, even if I didn’t want to and then…” He ran a hand through his hair, revealing his face in full detail his eyes baffled as if trying to understand himself, “Suddenly one night you’re dropped in the middle of my office. I didn’t have any pretenses, I was just being nice letting you stay here, I had fond memories of our time together, I didn’t want to let you get caught in the crossfire- it was the least I could do after everything.” 
You crossed your arms as he continued, “And then…I don’t know,” He muttered, “I look at you, I see your smile, I see you standing here pouting and trying to do it all yourself, like you always tried to do. And suddenly it’s two years ago and we’re both drunk sitting at the bar talking about what it would be like to be in love. And I feel the exact same way I did back then, looking at you and wondering if maybe I had finally found it.” 
You felt physically sick, it was like he was intentionally wanting to break your heart all over again, “You sent them to raid my home, you can’t tell me this wasn’t planned…”
“I didn’t expect them to fuckin’ kidnap you Y/n!” Jungkook let out a hurt laugh, running his hand through his hair, “In fact I gave them direct instruction to do the shakedown while you were at work and to not destroy your apartment- you were supposed to be at work!” 
“Well I wasn’t!” You shouted back, “I wasn’t feeling well and my coworker offered to cover! You can’t do this to me! You can’t, not after all this time…” You voice died down, “You can’t just…open all of this back up as a second chance because you’re feeling nostalgic over a fling-”
“You were never a fling to me-”
“That’s how I felt after you left-” You suddenly winced, hand immediately pressing to your stomach, instinctual almost despite the pain coming from your chest, Jungkook’s eyes immediately widening and he had closed the small gap between you both. 
“Let’s get you sat down…” Jungkook murmured and you couldn’t help but stare at his hand, big and calloused, multiple rings just the way you remembered, pressed against your bump and a wave of intense sadness thrummed in your heart, what you’d give to go back and change everything. 
You were too tired to fight his touch, and a smaller part of you crying– begging inside your mind to just give in, to put your worries aside and roll the dice again, maybe he’d actually keep his promise this time. 
But you refrained from leaning against him too much as he sat you down on the bed in your room, phone immediately in hand as he called Doctor Choi, after hanging up the air was thick with a silence and tension. 
Jungkook sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, “...If you don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t. I don’t want you going into preterm…But…I want you to know I didn’t make that decision because I wanted to, and I didn’t do it easily either.”
You self soothed, rubbing your tummy as your eyes closed, “I know you didn’t. At least that's what I told myself the last few years, that surely there was a really good reason…And you wanna know the worst part Jungkook?” You whispered, sad eyes as you opened them to look at him, “I waited…I waited every day, sat at that stupid register hoping you’d come, even after Wonho stopped talking to me I went to the Red Light anyways, hoped maybe you’d be there. There wasn’t a day I didn’t check my phone only to be disappointed by your name not being on the screen…”
It was silent again before you tried to hold back your tears, “You broke my heart. Right in two, promised you wouldn’t leave me, and then you did. And now you’re asking me for another chance?” 
You said you wouldn’t cry, but here you were softly weeping in your bed, feeling like a child once again, helpless and wondering why no matter how hard you tried, nobody ever stayed, you had thought he was different, but it turned out he was just like the rest. 
Jungkook’s hands cupped your cheeks, thumbing the tears away as he pressed his forehead down to yours, “For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” He murmured, “I’m just as much a sinner as anyone else, I’m ill-tempered and cruel, I’ve killed a lot more people then you could ever imagine, but most of all Y/n, I’m selfish, I’m not really a good man. But I could be good, for you.” 
“You don’t know how bad I really want to believe you,” You whispered out, “But I had so long to think about it, to look back and realize I know nothing about you. It was my own fault really, you’re not a good man and I knew that back then, just like I know it right now.”
“I know I hurt you,” Jungkook had a sort of determination in his eye, the kind that you knew was unwavering, he meant every word he was saying, “But there hasn’t been a day I wished it could be different. I’ll do whatever is necessary to earn your trust again.”
You pressed your lips together for a long moment, “I’m not saying it isn’t possible, but you have a long way to go if you really want it.” 
Jungkook’s long slim finger traced down your jawline, “I’ll take it one day at a time, just like the first time.” 
455 notes · View notes
stuckymonkey · 9 months
Text
Stolen
Mafia Bucky Au
Pairing - mafia!bucky x fem!reader
Summary - y/n lived an ordinary life as a surgical resident in New York. Her father left when she was young, and her mother recently passed away. Bucky was promised by her father to get his firstborn daughter, unfortunately for y/n, that fits her description perfectly. Kind of enemies to lovers.
Warnings - violence, angst, being taken against will/kidnapping, mentions of death, stitches and medical things, mentions of suicide, mild cursing
Word count - 3.5k
a/n - i was feeling some angst, let me know what you think! feedback is always appreciated!
masterlist bucky masterlist
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"Clamp" Joe said from across to table to one of the scrub nurses. "Lap pads" I said. We were doing a coronary artery bypass graft on a six year old patient. Five hours in and Lena was doing really well. She had maintained stability the entire time, making recovery look good for her.
I was about to irrigate when the door to the OR burst open. Me and Joe didn't look up, too focused on finishing Lena's cabg, starting to close up her heart with delicate sutures. "Y/n Y/L/N?" a low masculine voice boomed out. My head shot up to meet Joe's eyes, silently asking what to do. Her eyes were almost as wide as mine.
That voice belonged to James Barnes, head of the Brooklyn mafia. They had access to anywhere and everywhere in Brooklyn, no questions asked.
After having a silent conversation, we both opted to go back to Lena's heart. The voice boomed again, this time louder and much closer. "Y/n, scrub out." Joe whispered. I couldn't scrub out. Not now. Not while it was just me and Joe with a few scrub nurses. She couldn't close alone. "No." I kept suturing, almost to the point where we could start to close up entirely. "What?!" her head jerked up "I said no. You can't close on your own. Lena has been my patient for six months. I know everything about her, and her family. I am finishing this surgery with you and I will be there when they see their baby girl for the first time in six hours." I clipped the last suture, ready to close up her chest. "Y/n, I think you should listen to Joe and scrub out."
I suddenly felt cold metal pressed to my temple. "Put the tools down Y/L/N. I'm not afraid to pull this trigger." I heard the click of a bullet sliding into place at the end of his threat. I was shaking with tears running down my cheeks at this point. "I'm sorry," I said to Joe, it was obvious that I was crying. Through blurry eyes, I saw a tear slide down her cheek too.
What was going to happen to Lena? And her family? What would Joe tell them? I stepped back from the table and let Mike, my favourite nurse, help me take off my gown and relieve my trembling hands from my sterile blue gloves.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't go back to that table. By pressing a gun to my head, James had broken the sterile field. "Well done," James spoke lowly into my ear. I hadn't noticed when, but his hand was wrapped securely around my arm. He led me away from the table, out of the OR and into the hallway where he stood in front of the elevator. The entire time my sobs never ceased and neither did the grip he had on my arm.
He let go before we left the elevator. Outside, many of what were probably his men waited for us. They lined the hallways. I felt like a sheep being herded by big, powerful, scary wolves. Tears were still running down my face as I made eye contact with my Chief of Surgery and Resident Chief. I had grown close with them over the years, and now they were watching me be escorted out of the hospital.
They knew what this meant. I was taken. The mafia had me now. Tears ran down their faces, and the faces of my coworkers who I loved like family. I tried to keep my head up to let them know I would be okay, but I couldn't help the way my shoulder shook from my sobs.
James helped me into a black car. In the front seat was a blonde, with a driver who had dark skin and short hair. I didn't try to hide the fact that I wanted to be anywhere but here. I felt exhausted, more emotionally than mentally.
"Where are we going?" I asked. "Home." James said, adjusting the cuff of his dress shirt. "I hate you, James Barnes." I said, defeat laced in my tone. "Please, call me Bucky." he said. He sounded sad. That bastard. How did he have the nerve to be sad when he is the one who chose to steal me out of my OR. "What are you going to do when I kill myself?" I asked. "You won't kill yourself." the driver spoke up. "Sam-" the blonde said in a nervous and warning tone.
"She won't." he said, looking at the blonde. "You're y/n y/l/n. You're a surgeon." he said, looking at me through the rearview mirror. Everyone's attention was on him as he refocused on the road. "You saved my sister's life, Sarah Wilson. Pancreatic cancer. Four hours after being in your OR she was cancer free. We were told to start planning her funeral. I was signing paperwork to legally adopt my nephews, but you saved her life." he looked into the rearview mirror at me again. "Thank you."
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We arrived at "home". During the long ride to the outskirts of Brooklyn, I learned that the blonde's name is Steve. He and Sam were Bucky's seconds in command. Steve helped with the dirty stuff like interrogations, and dealing with orders and shipments of weapons. Sam helped as well but he was also really good at chauffeuring Bucky wherever he needed to go.
There was a very very long gravel driveway leading up to Bucky's huge mansion. It was pretty, I had to admit. Nice dark brick with ivy, a beautiful garden that I bet Steve helped out with, and a peaceful fountain in the center of the drive. I noticed more fountains in the garden area. We had passed tall black iron gates on the way in, giving me an eerie feeling of what the interior of the mansion would be like. Probably dark and scary.
Boy, was I wrong. The inside was beautiful. White marble stairs, golden curtains and natural light everywhere. It felt soft and safe, while still looking professional and wealthy. I was scared to touch anything, it all looked so clean and like everything was in its place.
Bucky dismissed Sam and Steve, leading me up the stairs and to the right of the hall. We walked for quite a bit before he turned into a room. "This is yours. You are to sleep here and I will have all of your stuff here in the next two weeks." He turned to face me, "My office is down the hall to the left, first hall to your right. My room is down the hall to the right, first room on your left hand side. If you need anything, ask me, Sam or Steve. Nobody else lives here but the four of us." he sounded so calm and collected. Did he steal people often?
"I don't live here." I corrected him. The quirk in his eyebrow let me know I shouldn't have spoken. I didn't care. It couldn't get any worse than this. "You do live here. You will not leave this property until you ask me for permission and you have been assigned an escort." "I do not live here! You do not own me, and I am going home. I have to go to work, and I will not stay here." I clenched my jaw, waiting for him to say something.
"Y/n, you live here. Your father promised me his first born daughter just before your mother got pregnant. He was a horrible man, you knew that. Your mother never knew about the deal. You are mine and you will not be leaving. Are we clear?" I hated how the tone of his voice made me clench my thighs together, but I hated even more how he was speaking to me and how he thought he could just keep me here.
"No! I will not stay here! You stole me out of my OR while I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A SURGERY! An open heart surgery. A poor young girl's life was in my hands, Bucky!!!! You could have killed her!! She was INNOCENT!! I hate you. She could have died. Her parents have been in and out of hospitals with her for six years!! Six years, Bucky! She is six years old and her whole life has been within the walls of hospitals and I had a chance to change that. You could have ruined her life and I hate you." I was so angry, tears were running down my face again. I felt warm and exhausted. The urge to just sleep and hope this was a really really bad dream came over me. "Get out." I spat through my teeth, daring him to challenge my order.
He almost looked pitiful as he left my room and closed the door behind him.
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The bed was uncomfortable, and I had none of my own possessions. Bucky had come in later to apologize, which fell on deaf ears. He had thankfully given me one of his shirts and some sweatpants before he went back to his office. The sheets on the bed were scratchy, and his pants were too warm.
At around 2 a.m, after no luck at sleeping, I slipped out of my room and headed towards his office, just like he had directed. I figured he would be there, being a surgeon I know what it's like to stay up late to get work done, especially if you're stressed. Which I assume he was after kidnapping someone.
I opened the door slowly to reveal Bucky. His jacket was discarded and a few of the buttons on his shirt were undone. "What are you doing here?" He asked after looking up at me. I felt his gaze rake over my body, now only clad in his shirt and a pair of my underwear. "I need your help," I said calmly. I was desperate after only a few hours with this man. I felt pathetic.
Bucky's eyebrow quirked, encouraging me to continue. "My dog, Joe is probably watching her. I wouldn't know because you took my phone, but that's what I'm assuming." he looked intrigued, with his head tilted to the side and his hands still instead of typing. "If Joe isn't watching her, she only has enough food and water for one day, unless she drinks out of the toilet bowl, but I don't really want her to do that, not that it isn't clean! But she's a big dog and-" "y/n." His cold voice stopped me right in my tracks. Shit. This is probably where he refuses to help me get my dog.
"Please," my eyes began to water at the thought of her at home, all alone, wondering where I went, and then possibly starving to death without anyone to take care of her. "She's my best friend, and I promise she won't be any trouble, I'll pay for everything, I'll even pay a rent fee or something! I just really need my dog back." I think he could see my lip wobble because that look of pity from earlier came back.
"I used to have a dog," his voice surprised me just as much as his words. I looked up at him inquisitively, "She was a Great Dane named Nala. I get it. I'll arrange to pick her up tomorrow, and some of your things later in the week." "Thank you." I whispered before turning to leave his office.
"What's her name?" I heard just before I reached the door. "Hazel," I smiled at the memory of her. "She's an Irish wolf hound." I said sheepishly. at my confession, he smiled. "Goodnight y/n." "Goodnight Bucky."
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It's been a week since we got Hazel, and Bucky has seemed kinder and kinder every day. It was probably just because Hazel was such a good dog, but a part of me hoped I helped to make him happier too. When I brought it up to Steve and Sam they had both agreed it wasn't just my dog.
Another night rolled around and I still didn't have anything else of my own. I had been sharing clothes with all three of the men, including underwear. The night was the worst time for me, always leaving me frustrated at my inability to get comfortable enough to sleep. Hazel had no problems, sleeping soundly at the foot of my bed just like she would at home. Or my old house? Was this place really my home?
At 1 a.m, when I hadn't heard any movement in a while I snuck out to Bucky's bedroom where I knew he wouldn't be. He was still in his office working, I knew because I hadn't heard him walk to his room, something he doesn't usually do until at least 3 a.m. Hazel had decided to follow me, making this a bit harder to get away with when being followed by a huge Irish wolfhound.
Slowly, I opened the door to his bedroom. It was gorgeous. He had an abundance of pillows, a soft blanket at the end of his bed and thick creamy coloured duvet. Dark wood furniture decorated the room, complemented by dark curtains and hunter green walls. The place was gorgeous and very well decorated. I moved closer to his bed and found an extra soft blanket under the duvet. I slid it out and draped it over Hazel's back so my hands could hold other stuff. I grabbed a body length grey pillow, deciding he wouldn't miss it for one night.
Before he came to his room, we scurried back to my bed as quietly as possible, Hazel not dropping the blanket once.
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"That's the best she's slept in weeks, boss." I could hear voices outside of my bedroom. Steve. The curtains were closed, so it was still nice and dark in my room, then another voice spoke, "Really? She hasn't been sleeping well this whole time?". Bucky. "No, she tosses and turns all night. Honestly, I would too if I didn't have anything of my own.". Sam. "She likes your pillow though." Steve commented.
I didn't want to get up yet but I didn't want to be watched either. I slowly opened my eyes and lifted my head to see the three men in my doorway. Steve and Sam smiled before walking away with waves directed at me. I waved back before focusing my gaze on Bucky.
"I see you like my stuff." he smirked, slowly making his way towards my bed. Hazel jumped off to go find food, her bowls had been placed in the kitchen. "You know, it's wrong to steal sweetheart." Bucky was looking down at me now, his hands in the pockets of his neat dress pants. "You left me with no other choice," I said without much confidence.
"I don't have any of my things, and these sheets are god awful and scratchy." "Maybe I just like seeing you in my clothes," he hummed. A warm blush coated my cheeks as he leaned closer. "You're kinda cute sweetheart." At this point I could smell his minty breath, and feel it as well. "Give me my stuff, and you'll get yours back." I suggested before flopping down on my bed and pulling the covers over me, specifically the blanket I stole right off of his own bed.
He laughed before tugging at the blanket to reveal me clinging to his body sized pillow like a koala. I refused to meet his gaze, instead keeping my eyes closed. "I can't sleep unless I'm comfortable." I stated.
"I get that. We'll have Steve pick your stuff up, but you can keep the pillow." he winked.
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That afternoon, Bucky had sat down and had lunch with me. He made eggs, bacon and fluffy toast. I helped a little, making us tea and setting the plates at the black marble island.
"So, I was thinking, you can start working remotely until they absolutely need you back at the hospital." his eyes met mine, waiting for a reaction. I was excited, but I tried not to show it too much since I really shouldn't have been taken from the hospital in the first place. "Then, once I'm sure it's safe, you can go back."
"Safe?" How did my safety play into this decision? I was confused, I was always safe at the hospital, save for the occasional confused patient. "Y/n, your father had a lot of enemies, quite a few of them are associated with other mafias, none as well built or known as my own. He promised you to me in hopes that peace could be made, but he betrayed several of his promises and upset more people than he could handle. Because they can't get to your father, they might get to you next."
"Fine. But I need to get to the hospital sooner rather than later. I have a million patients and I've missed so many rounds. For all I know, Lena could be out of the hospital by now. I haven't had contact with anyone for weeks." I sighed, to which he frowned at. "I know, and I do feel bad but I also care about your safety."
I blushed at his admittance, not used to being romantically cared for. Over the days that turned into weeks, we had grown to like each other. Maybe this arrangement would end up working after all.
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"Fuck."
Bucky had given me a space to work within his office, so that's where I was when I heard a string of curses and muffled groans near midnight. The door suddenly swung open, revealing a bloody and battered Bucky.
"James?" I asked. "Hey -shit- y/n/n." He clutched his right arm to his abdomen. There was so much blood from so many different places. "It looks like you need my help," I sassed, getting up to help him settle down on the leather couch. His "yeah" was cut off by a groan. "I need to take your shirt off, okay?" Concern was surely painted on my face as I saw his blood soaked jacket.
"At least buy me dinner first," he laughed. "Ha ha. I'm glad you're in a decent mood," I said while starting to unbutton his white work shirt. I rolled up the sleeves of his black Henley that I was borrowing. He had three major wounds: one on his cheek, one on his right arm and one located on his lower abdomen.
"This is going to hurt," I warned, getting the first aid kit from across the room and preparing the peroxide. He hissed as I poured it over every wound, dabbing them after with gauze. "You're doing great," I tried to smile sympathetically while remaining focused.
"I'm going to stitch your face first, okay?" I asked, getting the supplies ready. "I don't need stitches." he countered. "Bucky, this wound is deep and it's not going to stop bleeding until I close it. You need stitches." "Doll, I'm fine, just leave it."
"Right! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I forgot that you had a medical degree." I said sarcastically. He blushed in return and stayed still while I started to stitch his cheek.
A part of me wanted to make a jab about being out of practice, due to being kidnapped from the hospital, but I held back. Bucky was a good man and we were starting to bond and get along way better than I had ever anticipated. I learned that he had a sister, Steve had been his best friend since highschool, and he had inherited the mafia from his father.
James was a man who loved dogs, and making sure the ones he loved were safe, from his best friend all the way down to Anne, the maid and housekeeper. Another hiss pulled me from my thoughts. "Sorry," I winced. "Almost done."
"Thank you" he said after I patched each site with gauze and polysporin. "Anytime." "I guess we make more sense than I thought." he said as we sipped coffee in the kitchen. "How so?" I laughed. "A surgeon and a mafia boss. I could use you doll." He smiled. I tilted my head to the side in mock offense. " 's that all I am to you? A good pair of hands to tend to your messes, Mr. Barnes?" I asked. "No no no! I just mean that we make sense, you know?" I smiled at him over my mug. "I know."
He started leaning closer to me, to the point where I could feel his breath on my lips. Bucky's eyes met mine over the small table, his flesh hand coming up to cup my cheek, the other resting its cooler touch on my neck, pulling me in. I never fought once, instantly kissing him back when I felt his lips meet mine.
I sighed into the kiss, letting him hold my face and tip it back. His tongue caressed my lower lip before bringing it into his mouth, sucking on it tenderly. My hand moved to cover his flesh one, leaning into his touch slightly. He inhaled me as he pulled back. I felt my face flush and go warm and his hungry gaze, as if I was his prey and he wanted to devour me whole. "Bucky," I panted.
He smirked devilishly. "You like that, doll?" I nodded dumbly at his question. Bucky's eyes creased at the corners when he smiled, tilting his head down to look at me. "I like you," I whispered. He leaned closer, "I like you too, printessa."
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Over the weeks, I had started sharing Bucky's room with him. I had an abundance of plush blankets and soft pillows to cuddle with. He had started coming to bed earlier, and I have started back at the hospital. Joe and my other friends missed me while I was away, and I can guarantee that I missed them just as much, if not more. My Resident Chief and Chief of Surgery both cried when they saw me walk back into the hospital lobby, happy and unharmed.
Life was good again, and I finally felt peace.
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Text
Promised I'd compile an Andreil Fic List from my bookmarks so here y'all go (everything is AO3)!
Favorites bolded in orange
Short and Sweet/Angst and Read Several Times
"loving you is muscle memory" by Talls (sweet)
"boyfriend privileges" by mostly_maudlin (sweet)
"You Might Get It" by likearecord (light angst)
"Translation Errors" by SensationalSunburst (sweet like candy)
"This Roommates Bullshit" by likearecord (sweet)
"temper, temper" by Ominous (sweet and hilarious)
"Killer Bunny" by godless_writer (lil angst)
"Pumpkin Patch" by H_bee69 (sweet)
"Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man" by irls_goaway (sweet)
"Porcupines and Promises" by StellaLuna365 (sweet)
"Neptune" by kanekicure (sweet angst)
"What Did You Call Me?" by Fortheloveofexy
"give or take" by bazookajo94 (sweet and funny)
"It's the Thought that Counts" by gluupor (sweet)
"hold your fire" by seasy33 (angst)
"Oh isn't it a bit of luck…" by Willow_bird (sweet and silly)
"Sweet Enough to Eat" by Fortheloveofexy (sweet angst)
"Bunny" by lady_flash (sweet and funny)
"Space In-Between" by kitausu (sweet)
"just curious" (series of 2) by gay_irl
Broke My Heart and Left Me There To Rot
"I'll Take Care Of You" by Justthislazy
"Oh love, I'm sorry if I smothered you" by Ateiluj
They Find Each Other In Every Universe (AUs)
"fragile" by likearecord (Radio!AU)
"venus as a boy" by kybelles (Highschool!AU)
"Catfish" by likearecord (Catfish!AU)
"cocoa dust" by djhedy (Coffeshop!AU)
"The Calculus of Nocturnes" by fuzzballsheltiepants (Teacher!Andreil)
"Raised on Little Light" by maqicien (Wymack adopted Neil)
"Touch me, love me, leave me" by BakaDoll (Military!Andrew)
"buried" by bazookajo94 (Highschool!AU)
"And We'll Be Running" by allyasavedtheday (Band!AU)
"boy next door" by foodforworms (Neighbors!AU)
"Smokescreen" by bazookajo94 (Muse!AU???)
"waiting up for better things" by fuzzballsheltiepants (Guitar Player!Andrew)
"skin deep affection" by mitigates (Speed Dating!AU)
"in another life" by bazookajo94 (Accidental Pen Pal!AU)
"Armies" by nekojita (Mafia!AU)
"If You Love Me, Come Clean" by sundowne (Exchange Student!AU)
"at least we were electrified" by likearecord (Actor!Neil)
"Ripple Effect" by Watergaw for AgentCoop (Canon Divergence)
"we were together" (series of 3) by bazookajo94 (Canon Divergence)
"Tastes Like Gold" by pandaseek (Translator!Neil)
"The Gaslights Burn Brightly" by This_Witch_Writes (Met in Baltimore!AU)
"wreck my plans" by Willow_bird (College!AU)
THEY TAKE CARE OF EACH OTHER YOUR HONOR
"say something" by Willow_bird
"i’m gonna find my ghost that’s lost in outer space" by cyanica
"lost in the process (out at sea)" by cake_lovin_ace
"The Drowning" by minyardlovebot
"I hate you" by All_for_the_andreil
"A Quiet Night" by kccastner
"Overcome" by czenzo
"The grass between us (the mud under our feet)" by unojonex
"Not a Monster, Just a Human" by ms_masago
"Will you love me for who I am, not for who I was?" by something_boring
"There Now, Steady Love" by jingerhead
"side effects may vary" by willadisastercry
"Neil Fights the Foxes" by This_Witch_Writes
"Tell Me Where To Touch You" by Fortheloveofexy
"Beware Becoming My Partner in Madness" by Justthislazy
THEY FUCK EACH OTHER YOUR HONOR
"louder than bombs (i break)" by mitigates
"Beautiful" by WhenInDoubtSleep
"attitude problems" by greywarenlynch
"hold on" by starwarned
"Need You Now" by NikNak22
Did Someone Say Fantasy AU????
"Andrew Minyard and the Intricacies of Faerie Wooing" by carminesunset (Fae!AU)
"monster (under my bed)" by scribbleb_red (Demon!Neil)
"Into The Woods" (series of 7) by Ominous (Werewolf!Andrew)
"anywhere. everywhere." by moonix (Demon!Andrew)
"Auburn Wings and Golden Dreams" by doodlingstuff (Angel! Neil)
THE FUCKING GAUNTLET
"Blame It on My Youth" by youreyestheyglow (1 million+ words)
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noroi1000 · 1 year
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Gojo Satoru's Playground
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"Ohayo~ Wanna play with me? Don't be shy~ Since you're here, I'm sure you want to play. Welcome to my playground. There's no turning back now, baby. Click on the fun you want~"
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Home
You can't go there (slight Shibuya)
My little spy (spy reader, Mafia boss Gojo)
Annoying (part two in smut)
Prison realm(Shibuya warning)
Don't push me away(slight yandere)
Cupid's embrace
Father's day
See you again (Gojo & Geto time travel, yandere reader)
Lost sparkle in the eyes 1
Lost sparkle in the eyes 2
Out of control 2 (yandere step-brother Gojo, part 1 in smut)
Where have you been? (Yandere)
I'm sorry (murderer reader)
Heart patch
Heart patch 2
The tale of the strongest couple
The tale of the strongest couple - Tears of Shibuya
Limitless power for you
My girlfriend's spiderweb
My Big baby is drunk (drunk Gojo)
They don't change (Gojo & Nanami)
Dragon and Phoenix (fantasy au)
Baby name
Cheeky Bug
Wall
Sun and Cloud
You promised me something (yandere wife reader)
You promised me something - Backstory
I don't want you as my husband anymore
Baby Gojo
Too weak
Little Loved One
Popular Boy who looks at you
A fridge full of sweets
Cat and Love
Too clingy
I'm waiting for you in different life
Baby Steps
Wild Animal
Wild Animal 2
Mine forever (yandere reader)
(More Coming Soon)
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Demonic Love (demon au)
Diamond (mafia au)
Take day off
Life-fairytale
Love you(arranged marriage)
No one(yandere)
Out of control (yandere step-brother
Why did you turn this on?
Annoying 2
Brother's best friend
Beautiful vengeance (mafia au)
Mommy's good boy
Cute outfit
Feeling Warm
Evil Queen
Evil Queen 2
Kawaii Sensei
Kawaii Sensei 2
Senpai
Perverted truth
Baby fever
Baby Fever 2
Homemade maid cafe
Homemade maid cafe 2
First shight
Sex Pollen
Rings on fingers
I win No Nut November. What now? Destroy Dick December!
Scars (SatoSugu X reader)
Lost sparkle in the eyes 3
Love Hotel
That snow leopard
Their neighbor
Their neighbor 2
Your senpai will teach you
Silent Signal
Forever yours and you're ours
I,my wife and my friend
(More Coming Soon)
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mrsshabana · 6 months
Note
Aaah there are so many I want to see but for now could you show Mafia!Demon!Gyutaro?
I'm so glad you picked this one because it is one of my favorites too! This fic takes place in the AAO au. But if Gyutaro didn't go to college and joined the mafia with the other moons instead.
If you aren't familiar with my Against All Odds au, basically demons live among humans similarly to Tokyo Ghoul. But they don't have to eat humans, they can survive by eating any raw meat. Though some of them will still eat humans anyways.
Content: 18+ MDNI, Gyutaro x female!reader, violence, kidnapping, sexual themes
✧:・゚→ My WIP's
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𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂!𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏!𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
The world of demons was foreign to you, but in the blink of an eye you were thrusted into this life and demons became all you knew.
The only other humans you ever interacted with were the other girls. Girls who were in the same unfortunate position as you.
You were no one special before. Just working your way through life like the rest of us. And that’s how he found you. You were the perfect candidate really. Young, attractive, and weak. He was sure you’d be profitable. Abducting you in the cover of nightfall as you walked home from work after a graveyard shift.
Your abductor, the demon with the two-toned hair, took you to the black market. Selling you to an illegal exotic dancing club. A place where humans are kept captive for the enjoyment of demons. Forced to wear lingerie and dance behind nichirin bars.
This became your new normal.
You hated everyone here. The other girls gave you a hard time because you were new, and the owner of the club didn’t help. She’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, with stark white hair, two-toned just like the demon that had abducted you.
For some reason, that demon often came into your thoughts. As you sit in the back room, preparing yourself for your upcoming scheduled dance, you think back to him. His appearance was terrifying, but something about him intrigued you. You’ve been an exotic dancer for only a week, and you haven’t seen him since that first day. 
Too distracted by your lingering thoughts, you barely notice the other girls shuffling out of the room. You’ve been surviving by following what the other girls do, the girls that have been here for years. And an uncanny feeling begins to form in your gut. One that tells you that you should follow them. So you hastily finish your hair and makeup, slide on your heels, and make your way towards the door. 
And that is when you bump into him.
In your panicked state, you open the door too quickly without realizing what’s on the other side. Walking into the man’s chest, with a huff you slip on your heels. Falling right on your ass, at the feet of the only demon you recognize in this place.
Glowing eyes stare down at you with a frown. His lips downturned in an annoyed scowl. Looking down at you as if you are his prey, his frown changes into a toothy smirk, showing off his sharp teeth. 
Every nerve under your skin burns, every muscle in your body aches with the desire to run. But you find yourself frozen at his feet. Staring up at him like a helpless puppy.
“I-it’s you…” you whimper as he quirks a brow at your acknowledgment. Crouching in front of you and reaching forward to grip your cheeks with the rough pads of his fingertips. He hums as his grin widens, turning your face side to side, inspecting you.
“Oh so you remember me? How sweet,” he coos.
Quickly getting bored, he rolls his eyes and stands, “Get up,” he orders.
“R-right,” you stutter, struggling to get back on your feet. Once you are able to stand properly you bow and apologize, “I’m so sorry for my clumsiness, please forgive me sir. I-it won’t happen next time.”
He takes a step forward and brings his hand below your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He’s pleased by how you speak to him, it’s so different from how the other girls react to him.
“So eager to please, I’m glad I found you,” he chuckles before releasing you from his grasp, “and no need to be so formal, just call me Gyutaro from now on.”
You nod and he pushes you aside, “Now scram.”
After that day, you learned who Gyutaro was and why he frequented this place. This club is owned by the Kizuki, otherwise known as the most dangerous demon mafia in the world. And Gyutaro is one of their top members, along with his sister, Daki, who so happens to be the manager here.
Gyutaro comes once a week to collect the money that the dancers have generated, and once a month he’ll bring new girls if there is a need for more dancers.
Every time you’d see him, you’d politely greet him. A part of you hates him for bringing you here, but you begin looking forward to his weekly visits, even though he rarely acknowledges you.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
You’ve been here for a few months now. Things have gotten alarmingly mundane. Your previous life becomes a distant memory as you’ve even forgotten what the warmth of the sun feels like on your skin…
Putting on your lingerie, slipping into a pair of stockings and heels before you exit your quarters. 
Daki waits for you in the backroom with a group of other girls. Something must be going on. Daki never bothers to interact with the dancers much unless she’s scolding them.
“Girls, listen up,” Daki yells in an aggravated tone, “we have some special guests tonight so be on your best behavior!”
She then begins pointing to girls out of the group, instructing them to come to her, “and… you,” she points to you, “the rest of you are off for the night.”
She picked a dozen of you from the group, “Ok girls, you’ll be having some very special customers tonight,” she smirks, “Come with me.”
You all follow her out onto the dancing stage, where nichirin bars separate you from a group of men sitting in front of the stage.
She instructs you to stand in a line. And your heart sinks at what she does next.
Pressing a button behind the stage, the bars begin to lower until there is nothing separating you from the men that sit in front of you.
And what do you know… there he is. Gyutaro sits nonchalantly with his legs spread wide, a lazy smirk on his face. He’s wearing his usual attire, ripped black jeans, black leather boots, and a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His birthmarks and various tattoos are visible on his exposed skin. 
The other men you don’t recognize.
Daki turns on the music and shouts, “If you're chosen, give him a lap dance. If not chosen, you're free to go back to your quarters for the night.” 
What the fuck is happening right now. As far as you know, this doesn’t happen. They never allow girls to get in such close proximity to customers for safety reasons. Having half naked women flaunted in front of blood thirsty demons is a recipe for disaster, which is why the nichirin bars have always stayed between the stage and the customers. The only time a girl is allowed to give personal dances is if the guests pay a hefty price… and even then the dancer usually never comes back.
They begin going down the line, each man pointing to a woman of his choice. And for some reason, you’re relieved when Gyutaro points to you. Feeling a heavy weight lifted from your shoulders. 
This doesn’t go unnoticed. Gyutaro’s smirk is wiped off his face when you flash him the tiniest smile as you make your way to him. You shouldn’t be happy about this. He knows you know who he is and his status within the mafia, so why are you so eager to see him?
After each man has made his selection, Daki takes the remaining girls backstage. Leaving you vulnerable at the hands of the Kizuki…
Dim lights flicker as you stand between his legs. Gyutaro’s gaze trails down your body, pupils hesitating when he reaches your breasts, and stopping when his gaze reaches your thighs.
This is quite awkward for you. Yeah, you’re used to dancing for guests but Gyutaro has never been one of your guests. He’s always just been the guy that comes to collect the money, you never viewed him as a customer. But orders are orders and in this place you know you have no choice. So you begin to dance for him.
“Stop,” Gyutaro says sternly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, “Sit…”
You nod and do as you're told, taking a seat on his lap, straddling him. He rests his left hand on your thigh, and brings his other hand up to your face. Moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Why so eager to see me?” words drawn out, his hooded lids stare at you with a lazy expression.
“I-I was just glad that you picked me…” you blush, feeling your body heat up.
He hums, holding your hips down as he rolls his hips upwards. A hard bulge can be felt through his jeans, rubbing directly on the wet spot shamefully forming in your panties.
“I can’t imagine why,” he growls.
You lean forward to hold onto his shoulders for support, “You-you’re the only one I recognized…”
Gyutaro can see right through you as you spit out a half truth. Trying to convince yourself that that is the only reason that you were happy to see him. That you haven’t formed some sick attraction towards him. 
“Well, I was happy to see you too,” he smirks, caressing your cheek, “so pretty, so obedient, so eager to please… so sweet to me every time I come by each week.”
His praises make the tightness in your chest worsen, you feel like you can’t breathe. Your whole body feels hot as he leans forward to kiss your neck. Nipping at your collarbone with his teeth. Your small acts of kindness and simple decency towards him have caused him to grow a liking to you. Forming foreign feelings towards something that he only viewed as food before.
Tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, you look beside you. The sight makes your blood run cold.
The man beside you, a demon with platinum blonde hair and rainbow eyes, is busy ripping out the trachea of one of the dancers. Blood covers his mouth, pooling beneath him on the floor. Looking further down the line you see similar acts. 
You seem to be the only girl left alive.
Gyutaro instantly senses your panic. Feeling your pulse increase drastically under his lips as he kisses your neck. You begin to squirm in his grasp, but he keeps you seated with a firm grip. Your breathing becomes choppy and panicked, whining as tears blur your vision.
“Hey hey hey, you’re ok,” he coos and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you close, “I’m here with you, doll.” 
“P-please…” you whimper pathetically.
“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” Gyutaro grabs your face, forcing you to look at him, “You trust me don’t you?”
Through hiccups and sobs you respond weakly with a nod, “Y-yes.”
“Good girl,” he groans, “It’s just me and you right now… don’t worry about anything else.”
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justoneday-namjoonii · 2 months
Text
It burns, doesn't it? [Pt.22]
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genre: mafia!au, angst
warnings: mature, mafia activity, illegal business activity, non-explicit sexual/sensual content, toxic relationships, mentions of drugs, smoking, m*rder, language, and suggestive language, an attempt at a slow burn. If this content could potentially trigger you, please proceed with caution or do not proceed♥️
pairing: jungkook x reader x (yoongi)
authors note: It has been a long time, but I'm back☺︎ will come back to edit this later ! Please see my master list for previous parts <3
word count: 6k+
summary: The mafia tore your life apart, if it wasn’t for your will to live, it would have taken you out a long time ago. After everything, the heartbreak, betrayal and lies, you’ve emerged with a purpose—you’re apart of a family now. They won’t let you lay down and die—no matter how much you want to
━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━ 
He was ripped from his sleep by the corrections officer who hated him the most. Couldn’t stand that attitude, that body full of ink and a grimace forever plastered on his boyish face.
“You have a meeting with your lawyer, get presentable,”
A few months ago, he would have shot back a snarky remark or maybe even stayed in bed. That rebellion simmered out not long ago, there’s not much fight left in him now. When he was let out, given a roommate, and left to socialize amongst the other inmates—he got into a bad fight. He took more damage than the other guy.
He found out that a notorious arms dealer was shot and killed. Word on the street is, it’s Jeon Jungkook’s fault.
Jungkook went into shock, numb. He got hit in the head so hard that he went unconscious. He would learn to be grateful for that state of unconsciousness. It was either that or erupting in a hysterical fit.
Now, sometimes he cries in his cell at night and sleeps all day. He never ate the provided meals before, but now, he at least picks at it. It’s evident in his just slightly hollowed cheeks, he’s lost some weight, 
He simply nods at the grumpy officer and drags himself up and out. This is not a reality he ever prepared himself to experience, he took his family for granted. Namjoon was there, he would always be there, that’s what he thought. He did not want to grieve here, not in this hell—maybe it’s what he deserves.
The officers take him to shower alone while the other inmates are still locked down, he’s become a sort of target. For his safety, this is what has to be done. He gets dressed in the same dingy outfit and they take him to the room.
Junghyun shortly after.
“Jungkook, are you okay? You look,” He scans him over, “not good—like shit to be honest.” Jungkook only glances up briefly.
“They told me you were in an altercation and got beat up pretty bad,” He takes a seat, eyes scanning him over, “Are you okay?
“I’m fine,” He mumbles.
“Alright,” He sighs, “Mr. Choi will be in soon, he thinks you have a good chance of getting out.”
“Hyung,” Jungkook calls him by his affection title for the first time in years, eyes trained on the table, “Don’t do this.”
“I’m going to help you, whether you think you deserve it or not, you’re my brother,”
The silence pangs, and Jungkook doesn’t even look up.
“Look,” He rests a hand on Jungkook’s bruised knuckles, “I just want to get you out of here, okay? And maybe we can find Kim Y/n-“
“Sorry I’m a bit late, had a few documents to submit,” The lawyer walks in with a nice suit and slicked back hair, “it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon,”
“Likewise,” Jungkook replies in a dull tone.
“First, let me ask you a few questions,” The lawyer takes a seat, snatching a few papers out of his briefcase before setting it aside, “I know you have mafia affiliation but to what extent?”
“What do you mean?”
“Could we say that you’re associated or an active member? And if so, how long?”
“I-…I don’t want to do this,” He stands to his feet, cuffed hands pushing him away from the table.
“Jungkook,” Junghyun gives the lawyer an apologetic expression as he goes to whisper something in Jungkook’s ear, “what is going on with you? He has to know these things so he can build your case.”
“I don’t care about the fucking case,” He grits his teeth, “whatever deal you’re trying to make with me, it’s gonna screw me over in the end, and you both know it,”
“Excuse me, but Jeon has a call,” one of the administrative officials peeks in.
“From who?” 
Both Jeon’s say in unison.
“He says he’s an uncle of yours.”
They look at one another, both their father was an only child and their mother had one sister. They don’t have an uncle.
≿━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━≾ 
3 months ago
His hands fell from your face, leaving your skin bare to the cool air, “I need to get back out there.”
He steps away from you, unlocking the bathroom stall door. You place your hand over his larger hand before he can fully open the door.
“You probably shouldn’t be seen with me like this…” You trail off, not wanting to further explain. You look at him with weary eyes, and the idea of someone seeing you two walk out of the bathroom together crosses your mind. “I’ll stay-“
“I don’t care who sees us,” He corrects you without hesitation, “let’s go.”
He walks out anyway, leading you out of the cramped stall. The states you get churn your insides. You force yourself to ignore the curious stares from the women inside. No one pays you any mind once you leave the restroom. If anything, they act like they don’t you.
When the hostess notices Yoongi approach with you by his side, she opens the doors with much haste.
“We got the last bid, I went 5 over but it was worth it,” Taehyung is the first to speak and he glances at you. Yoongi nods, ensuring he sits beside you despite your stiff body language.
The night went on and you remained quiet.
Feelings of regret crept their way into your mind. You proclaimed your love to a man before, who said he would die for you, the man you once lived for. But you’re not bound to him anymore, it’s hard to get used to. He abandoned you, he made you feel like a liar—he was insecure, and so were you.
The drive back home was painfully awkward. You rode back with Yoongi and the consequences of your actions started to eat you alive. He won’t even look at you, it just embarrasses you further, forcing you to perseverate. 
"About earlier, in the bathroom," You begin, not prepared to say much more than that.
“It was just a kiss,” He speaks low, to keep this conversation from the driver, "don't look too deep into it."
“Ok…” You gaze out of the window, the engine and the occasional passing of streetlights distract you enough. ≿ ━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━≿
The house had fallen into a hush over the past few months, and security heightened significantly. More members were assigned as round-the-clock guards. They patrolled around with vigilant eyes, their fingers never far from the cold metal of their guns. 
Yet, amid this fortress-like home, you found peace. The house staff have embraced you as if you were a long-lost member of the family. They treat you too well, providing clean linens like a hotel, and tasty meals, making you feel like royalty.
Ayeong has especially made this transition easy, she's the reason you're able to get up every morning and find purpose in something. 
When you arrived at the estate, you grappled with a sense of loneliness and haunting thoughts. It was Ayeong's compassionate and motherly nature that extended a gentle hand to pull out of that dark place. 
With ample free time at your disposal, you found yourself shadowing her through the day, mainly in the kitchen. 
She listened to you, not out of pity, but because she wanted to know you. In the delicate ebb and flow of conversation, she provided insights into the complex dynamics of the household. Yet, the lessons extended far beyond cooking; they touched on life, love, and, most intriguingly, the enigmatic figure who led it all, Yoongi.
You’ve unintentionally given much of the kitchen staff a break, making yourself her designated sous chef. It’s been nostalgic to get scolded when you over-season the dish she left you alone with, to get praised when your spontaneous flavor combinations taste good. She’s warm with you, taking you in like a granddaughter.
“Oh wow, this is so good,” Boyoung, her 10-year-old grandson who accompanies her every now and then smiles brightly, “how can you cook so well? This is better than nanas!”
“Boyoung, don’t say that!” You laugh, a bit flustered, “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”
“But it’s true! It’s better-“
"Ok ok, thank you," You shake your head, "Go wash up and I’ll fix you a bowl before you go.”
“Ok!” He runs to the bathroom with haste.
Just as he runs out, Ayoung comes back into the kitchen. “Between you and I, that little boy is going to be spoiled rotten,”
“He won’t be a kid forever,” You stir the pot gently, “it’s ready by the way,”
“Perfect, I was just about to let Yoongi know,” She notices how you always look a bit disinterested at the mention of him, “maybe I can get him to eat outside of that cave of his for once, I swear he’s a spitting image of his father, bad habits and all,”
“Yeah,” You agree awkwardly, “well, I’ll go wash up and I’ll be back,”
“Could you let him know? Tell him he needs to come out, I’m not bringing it this time,” She shakes her head, adamant, “he needs to come up for air,” 
You grit your teeth, “You want me to tell him?”
Ayeong has tried to get you two alone for the last few weeks. She seems to want to see him loosen up a bit, the stress he’s under tends to pull him away from what’s good for him she says. But he hasn’t said more than a simple greeting. You haven’t pursued a conversation either, he’s been too busy. Uninterested in anything that could even be close to a distraction, that includes you.
“If you could, I need to make sure Boyoung washes up this time,” She walks off to the washroom, leaving you with that daunting task.
The leather office chair knows Yoongi better than anyone these days. He’s been buried deep in the contracts, numbers, and logistical crap. Hoseok normally does this but he’s out on a short leave, a family emergency. So he’s doing it all, taking it all on his shoulders—it hasn’t been easy.
A knock on the door takes him from his thoughts. 
“Come in,” he expects to see Ayeong so he only glances up briefly, but he does a double take. There you stand, stepping through the door, and he softens at the side of you.
“Hi,” 
“Hi,” He repeats, “is everything ok?”
“Yes, everything’s fine, dinner is ready,” 
He's still in a dress shirt but the tie is long gone, as well as a few buttons unclasped. You forget that despite the illegal discrepancies of this job, it's still a business, they have to look the part.
He fixates on you for a moment, this is the first time in a while that he’s just looked at you. That dress, one he hasn't seen in ages. Of all the things you could wear, he would have never expected to see this.
He's brought back to his childhood for a blink. When his father was happy to have a son, not just a successor.
His mother would put on this dress sometimes, his father said it brought out her eyes. This dress—he remembered her in it when they were happy. At this moment in time, he remembers what it was like to feel real happiness. 
"What?" You question, bringing attention to his gawking. 
"Thank you," He breathes out, eyes dipping down into his papers again, "can you ask her to bring-"
"You look tired," You cut him off, "You should come out and eat with us, it'll be nice, plus Ayeong said she won’t bring you anything if you don’t agree."
He cocks his head to the side. "Us?" 
"Her grandson, she had to watch him after school," You grin to yourself, "I'm surprised you didn't hear him running down the hall,”
"Right, right she told me about that," He sighs, glancing at the piles of paper that he'd rather not spend any more time with, "I'll join you, just let me close this up, I'll be out shortly."
"Alright," Your eyes brightened a bit and he could swear you were hiding excitement, "I'll let her know."
When you enter the kitchen, Ayeong notices your attempts at hiding a smile. “What did he say?”
"He'll be out shortly," You head to the sink to clean up the remaining few dishes, and that's when you notice her seating arrangements. 
"Ayeong, you only set the table for two?“
"I completely forgot! I have to take Boyoung to his mom, she won't be able to pick him up tonight,"
She planned this shit. You bite your inner cheek, keeping your irritated remark to yourself. "But I promised Boyoung he could have some of what I cooked, he's gonna be upset-"
"Already packed him a bowl," She definitely planned this, "I can't believe he agreed to come out, do you know how many times I asked him to come out of that stuffy office? He's as stubborn as a mule that one," She removes her apron, hanging with the others near the pantry, "I never thought it was possible—he must have a soft spot for you.”
Before you refute any of her nonsense, she's out the door with Boyoung waving goodbye with that adorable smile. 
"Sorry, it took me a minute," Yoongi appears around the corner with rolled-up sleeves, "everything smells great." He takes a look around, surprised to only see you, and only two seats set up at the dining table.
"Ayeong just took Boyoung home, she didn't tell me they weren't joining…” You try to hide your disappointment with a nonchalant tone, "if you want to take your plate I'll just eat in my room-"
"I don’t mind having dinner with you, I could honestly use the break from work,"
"Oh, ok…” You nod with a timid smile, "You can sit, I'll fix the plates,”
"You don't have to do that,"
"It’s alright," You persist, "I don’t mind,”
He does as he’s told and sits at the head of the table, patiently waiting for you.
“Here you go,” You sit his plate down after yours, “sir,” You joke, trying to lighten the mood, “is it weird that all of the staff call you that?” 
“No,” He looked amused, not expecting your playfulness, “it’s protocol, except for the elders of course,”
Quickly, you say your grace and take your first bite. It’s safe to say this is the best meal you’ve ever made. 
“Wow, this is good,” Yoongi takes another bite with furrowed brows, “what did she put in this?”
“I cooked,” You stammer a bit, “do you like it?”
“Did you?” He gives you a look of approval. “It’s good, better than Ayeong’s if I’m being honest, but don’t tell her I said that,” He makes a playfully serious expression, causing a genuine laugh to spill from your lips
“Thank you,” He can see the blush forming on your cheeks, you're grateful he doesn't bring attention to it, “I’ve been helping her for a few weeks, it’s been nice getting to know her,”
“She told me, you’ve been a nice change for her and the other staff,” He sets his fork down, “they’re happy to finally have a normal person to dote over,”
“Normal?”
“Oh, I guess I’m getting back to my normal self then,” You’re proud to say that out loud, there was a point where you never thought you’d say that.
“Your dress,” He comments on the last thing you thought he’d be interested in, “is it new?"
“Oh,” You subconsciously touch the fabric, “Ayeong told me I could pick something from one of the closets, was that ok?” 
“Of course, I only ask because- ” He stares at the necklace on your chest for a moment, his heart jolts, “it looks nice on you.”
“Thank you…” You blush, not having expected the compliment.
When Yoongi speaks, you’ve learned that his words are his true feelings. He doesn’t care to sugarcoat much and he doesn’t talk a lot, but what he does say is meaningful.
Dinner continued in comfortable silence. Surface conversation would come and go in between bites, keeping any awkwardness from settling. Soon, the plates were empty and before you could get up to take the dishes, one of the staff came by to take them during conversation. You furrow your brows, wanting to clean up after yourself.
‘Ana, I’ll get it-‘
“Miss, it’s my job,” She smiles, eyes pleasing for you to let this go, it looks good for her to be insisting in front of the boss anyway. You give in, not wanting to make her feel obsolete in front of Yoongi.
“The food was great and you were,” He pauses for a moment, “you were good company.” 
“You too,” You grin from ear to ear, “we’ll have to do this again,” 
“Definitely,” He offers a real smile before disappearing back to his cave.
As you make your way back to your bedroom, you’re met with the youngest of the housekeepers, Yaerim, Ayeong’s niece. She’s taking the rest of your dirty clothes from the bathroom basket. A task you’ve warned her to stop insisting on; it’s the least you can do.
“Oh, hi Y/n, I’ll be out of your way! I was just getting your clothes washed up.”
“You don’t have to keep doing that,” You exasperate, “if you show me how to use the washer, I can do it Yaerim,”
“With all due respect, the boss asked me to take care of you, so that’s what I’ll do,” She offers a kind smile, “I wouldn’t want to upset him, I’m fairly new so this is my first time meeting him…”
“He asked you to do this?…” 
She nods.
“You should have told me sooner, you don’t need to do this for me, I can do a lot for myself actually, I don’t have anything better to do.”
“To be honest,” She sighs, leaning against the wall, “there aren’t many people my age working here so…It’s nice to be around you- I’m sorry, is that weird to say?”
“Not at all, I like being around you too,” You smile, “I don’t have any girlfriends, I haven’t for a while,”
“Well, we can be friends then!” She exclaims, “I’m 19 and this is my first job, auntie was nice to offer this to me, I don’t have experience doing much else,”
“I used to clean with my aunt before she went back to nursing, I enjoyed it,” You take a seat on the edge of the bed beside her, “I eventually found something I was passionate about and went to college.”
“Did you graduate?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
Her expression turns grim. “Oh, was it a financial thing or was it just not for you?”
“Neither, it’s a long story,”
“I’m not too busy, are you?” She makes a valid point.
That night was the first time you had ever told anyone about your life. There were moments where she looked stunned, others she had to push her tears down. 
≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾ 
The news ran rampant on the streets. Notorious arms dealer, Kim Namjoon, was shot and killed in an ambush. Jeon Jungkook was there, he was supposed to die, not their leader. There was a price on Jungkook’s head, it was something everyone knew but no one spoke of. Every day, tensions grew between Jungkook and the group. It was unsaid but painfully obvious, that he was the boss’s favorite even with his wavering loyalties to the job. 
Namjoon’s memorial is today. 
The family came and you could see where he got his looks from, as well as his demeanor. They all mingle, but Yoongi spends a particularly long time with Namjoon’s mother. 
“How could this happen?” She presses a hand to his shoulder and Yoongi purses his lips, looking down solemnly. “I feared this would happen one day,“ She began to weep and you stayed far from the group after that.
After a while, you find yourself outside to get some fresh air, the woman beside you must have had the same idea.
“How did you know him?” She pulls out a cigarette, not bothering to light it yet.
“It’s a little complicated.”
“Hm, he was my brother…” She glances at you, the cigarette lit In between her fingers. “I knew this might happen one day, but I could have never prepared for it—it doesn’t seem real.”
“Can you ever prepare for losing someone? I’ve lost a few people in my life and I’ve never felt prepared…not even a little bit.”
“Comforting.” She scoffs.
“Y/N,”
You look back and see Taehyung lingering in the corridor and beckoning you to come to him. With a heavy sigh, you walk over, excusing yourself politely. 
“What?” 
“You’ve met Geongmin,” He stares, as the woman from another life blows puffs of smoke in the air, he never knew her to be a smoker. “I need to talk to her, privately,”
You glance back at her and just as soon as you open your mouth to say something, he’s making his way over to her. That’s a relationship you never knew of. Namjoon’s sister and Taehyung, you could see that—perhaps.
“I didn’t think I’d see you here,”
“He’s my brother,” She turns to him with a scowl on her face, she wears red lipstick and her cheeks are just as red from the cold, “I didn’t hate him.”
“We haven’t talked in a long time,” He leans up against the patio railing, “it’s been too long, I think,”
“The last time we talked, you were off your meds,” She drops the cigarette in the ashtray, “Namjoon can’t make excuses for you, now both of our favorite people are gone.”
“I’ve missed you,” He confesses, staring off into nowhere in particular, “even more now.”
“Don’t,” She frowns, “I just happen to be the only one left…it’s only convenient to miss me.”
He’s in the car, sitting across from Akane.
“It has to be some elaborate joke…” 
“The shot wasn’t at close range, from what I heard, it could have been a misfire,” Yoongi concludes, “either way…he’s gone, I was with him when he left us.”
“How are you handling that? You’ve known him since you were kids…”
“In this world,” Yoongi sighs against the phone, “it’s just another work day.”
“Who’s taking over the arms business?”
“It can run itself with a few signatures from me, I’m thinking about Taehyung, he knows the business well, he was an understudy,”
“Hm, well, I heard about Jeon Jungkook, what do you plan to do about him?” 
“Nothing.” He takes out a cigarette from the case in the drink holder.
“Cold,”
“He got himself in that situation, he can get himself out. He caused a lot of problems, for innocent people,”
“I didn’t know you cared that much about innocent people,” She scoots close to the door, resting her hand on the handle before showing him an amused smile, “didn’t think you had a heart for people like that.”
She exits the car and he signals the driver to head out.
He glances at the driver who nods, preparing to pull out of the parking space. That’s when Yoongi glances out of the window and sees you approaching the moving vehicle. You were supposed to come with him earlier, you’re late of course.
“Stop the car,” Yoongi scoots from one side of the back seat to the other, to make space for you. He quickly opens the door, letting you slide in.
“Hey, I didn’t see you walk out,” You let out an uneasy breath, "sorry,"
Yoongi puts out the cigarette and you glance at him, knowing if it was for you.
“You’re fine,” He doesn’t say anything after that, he instead takes out a folder and starts reading. You glance over at it, reading a few names.
“We’ll be there within the hour, sir,” 
Yoongi seems a bit solemn, that’s a usual sight to see lately. Soon, you arrive at the destination and you still have no clue what you’re doing here. When he neglects to invite you into where he’s going, you simply watch him leave the vehicle and disappear inside.
“Miss,” He looks at you through the rearview mirror, “don’t be worried, the Min’s have to make difficult decisions and they can be rather quiet, they always have, no need to worry.”
You offer him a smile. He wouldn’t know that your feelings for Yoongi are mixed, that you worry about him in a way you probably shouldn't. In no time at all, you see him walking out with a woman by his side. Yoongi abruptly opens the car door.
“What is this?” You frown.
“I’m dropping you off,” He glances at the woman he brought out, “Sal will pick you up later.”
“Who is she?” You eye the woman.
“Heize, she’s doing me a favor,” upon hearing that, you ease out of the vehicle, “she’ll take care of you,” He presses a reassuring hand to your back, guiding you towards the woman. 
“Let’s go ahead inside, the tests are going to take a while.” 
Tests?
“What do you do exactly?”
“I work in identity,” She walks you inside a small office space, “did he not tell you why you were here?”
“He doesn’t tell me much,” You shrug, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all, “I also didn’t ask.”
“We’re making a new identity, as a precautionary measure.”
You didn’t expect to be giving blood, urine, and saliva samples today. After waiting a considerable amount of time, Heize dismisses the girl she had drawn your blood and leads you back to her office. She’s a quiet person. She doesn’t say much, doesn’t look too long, doesn’t move too fast—she sort of a book-nerd type, unsuspecting.
“How long have you known Yoongi?” 
“Years.”
She neglects to look at you, too busy typing away at her computer. 
“How long have you been doing this?”
“A long time.”
You nod to yourself. “Has it ever…Failed? Has someone’s identity been revealed even after all of this?
She pauses, finally looking up at you. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“Shouldn’t I know what the risks are? It is my life,”
“There are risks to everything, it’s no different than being issued a passport, what are the chances of getting your name misprinted?”
“Not high… but not zero.”
“We'll, can’t argue with that,” She shrugs.
You had no clue, but Yoongi had this all planned out. 
Your way out, your final departure from this life. 
You’ve adjusted to some sense of normalcy at his family estate. You read, you cook, clean, and take care of little things around the house. It feels natural, normal. Life here is never too fast or too slow.
It felt reassuring to have someone around, to have stability—and consistency. After a hard day, his comfort was normally found in a glass of whiskey or the next readily available alcohol. Cigarettes, once a reliable source of solace, had dwindled into a boring pastime. After the memorial, he lit one for the first time in what seemed like ages, extinguishing it swiftly as you joined him in the car. 
Now, he prays to heaven for grace, knowing that this new coping mechanism would ignite Jin's wrath if ever unveiled. Grace or no grace, deep in his heart, he knows Jin would have his head if he knew the truth.
You step into the office after a gentle knock, knowing your entrance would be granted either way.
“Hi,” You wave, seeing that his tie is still tight around his neck, and cuff links are still secured and shiny.
“Hey,” He offers a half-hearted greeting, “did you have dinner yet?”
“No, is that the only time you want to spend with me?” You ask a genuine question, your expression timid as you avoid direct eye contact.
“Course not,” He gently closes his laptop, reaching up to pull off his slowly suffocating tie, “but it is a bit of a routine now, isn’t it?” His gaze dips down, seeing that you haven’t changed out of your formal dress. 
“You should get changed, I should be done by then.”
“I think I’ll wait a bit,” You purse your lips, l don’t get to dress up very often,” You rub the hem between your fingers, “I like to enjoy it while it lasts, don’t you?”
When he neglects to give a verbal response, you step closer to his desk, leaning up against the side closest to him. He shakes his head, an endeared expression on his face, now fiddling with buttons on his collar shirt.
“Well, don’t you?” You tilt your head.
“Hm,” He leans back with a deep sigh, “never really thought about it, I suppose it’s nice,”
The longer he’s gotten to know you, the less he desires to be alone.
His life has been everything nonstop, all the time. No time to wade in his thoughts, and daydream about a better life. He used to chastise himself for even thinking about a life without the mafia. He’s never lived a peaceful life, free from strife and trauma, so much fucking trauma. If he were honest, even a taste of it used to scare him. If he were to indulge in even a glimmer of a normal life, he would desire it. He’d kill for it. But he can’t enjoy a life like that. He doesn’t deserve peace, how could he? He’s stolen it from so many people. And here he is, trying to return it to one of his many victims.
There’s another knock at the door. 
“Supper is ready,” Ayeong says from outside the door.
“Ayeong, can you come in?” He beckons her inside, “I need to speak to you for a moment,” 
You quickly get the message to give them some privacy and you slip out, closing the door behind you.
“Yes?”
“Tomorrow,” He gets up to stretch his legs and roll his sleeves to his elbows, “take her out for a bit, she can get clothes, anything she needs.”
“Of course,” Her face lights up, “she’d like that, but Yoongi in all honesty, this doesn’t seem like it needed to be a private conversation.”
“It’s not necessary that she know I’m having you do this,”
“I’m sorry,” She regrets this as soon as it leaves her mouth, “but why?”
“Because I said so.”
“Fine,” She huffs, not hiding her disappointment, "I’ll take her out in the morning.”
“Stay out until after 9, and I only need essential staff here tomorrow.”
"Very well," She turns to leave but stops to look at him. He's already staring down at one of his contracts. "…You know, it wouldn't hurt to tell her how you feel, a woman deserves at least that-"
"Don't," His tone is stern but mindful to be respectful, "don't start that."
"Yoongi, I can’t want better for you?" She stares, disappointed in his avoidant antics. "All I’m saying is, think about letting your guard down and enjoying someone for once, while you’re still young, your father missed out on that-“
"Is that why you put her in my mother's dress? Do you want me to reminisce on the past, give her up to delusions like my father did to my mother?” He quips.
“Your mother loved your father and he changed,” She defends, “she happened to choose that dress, I had nothing to do with that-“
“And the necklace?”
“Necklace?” She pauses dumbfounded. “Yoongi, I don’t even know what you’re talking about, I’m not trying to trick you into anything if that’s what you think-”
“It doesn’t matter, I’m not arguing about this…” He presses his temples, “I know you mean well but she's not going to be here forever, as soon as I can get her out she's gone, and she’s not coming back. Don't get attached, I only say this for your sake,"
She grits her teeth, holding her tongue for what she really wants to say. The last thing she needs is an angry Yoongi. "I care about her, I just want the best for her, after all she’s been through.”
"You don’t think I want that too?” He steps over to the window, looking over at the pristine garden and pool that he rarely touches, “I know what she’s been through, better than anyone...”
“I know you probably don’t believe it, but you are capable of experiencing love-“
“You’re dismissed,” He ends the conversation with a sharp command, already having given her tremendous leeway in this conversation.
You sit at the dining room table, moving your Brussels sprouts around, sipping your wine. This routine of having dinner with him almost every night, it's something you look forward to. 
You knew the subtle looks, the lingering gaze when the other wasn't looking, the laughs—it was a calumniation to something.
"Ayeong," You catch her trying to dash through the kitchen, "is he coming? I've been waiting, my food is cold..."
"Oh," She forced a smile, "I'm sorry dear, I’m not sure, he didn’t say," She leaves the kitchen with a swiftness.
You drop your fork on the plate—suddenly you've lost your appetite.
≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾ 
You waited until most of the staff finished their shifts when the guards left the inside of the home and only patrolled the grounds. That’s when you snuck out of your room to confront him.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Yoongi's gaze lingered on you when you emerged from the doorway of the dimly lit room. It’s drafty, the window cracked slightly and you see Yoongi there, sitting with not a care in the world.
You continue. “You didn’t come to dinner, so I thought maybe I did something wrong…”
"I didn't come to dinner because I got caught up," Yoongi explained, his voice low and measured. "You didn't do anything wrong."
The silence that followed was full of tension, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt. A sense of displacement gnawed at you, but you pushed it aside, not wanting to show it.
"You could have at least said something," you retorted, crossing your arms in defense. "Ayeong had to tell me."
“I apologize…Now can you come here,” He beckons you over, gesturing to the couch, “we should talk.” 
You do as he says, walking over to sit a small distance beside him. "About?"
“How are you liking it here?” He throws out his question. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes, I like living here," 
“Good, I’m glad.” 
On the coffee table beside him, you see cigarettes and a lighter. Impulsively, you reach across him to grab the lighter, and the cigarette box and slip one out. You stare at it for a few seconds, twisting it between your fingers, with the lighter in one hand. Albeit awkwardly, you ignite the flame and hold the white stick to it. The flame danced as you lit the cigarette, it caught fire, and his eyes cut to you, finally curious.
You bring it to your lips, heart racing and nose scrunching at the smell alone. You open your mouth and inhale, very quickly coughing like a first-time rebellious teenager.
“Don’t finish that,” He takes the cigarette from your hands as you struggle to catch your breath. “I avoid doing this shit around you, now you want to try it?” He takes a drag like a pro, blowing the smoke away from you. "It’s a bad habit."
“I know,” You look at him with a playful smile, reaching for it again. “you used to do it all the time,"
“What did I just fucking say?” He smothers it in the ashtray, his displeasure evident, “It’s not funny, don't touch that shit,”
“Why?” You counter, “I’m no different than anyone else here, so can smoke if I want to,”
“Not with me,” He scoffs, almost amused, “there are other ways to relieve your stress,”
“Yeah I’m sure,” You mumble, eyes tracing over his grumpy features. “But I don’t think you would know of any,”
Without a word, he makes his way over to the bar cart. There’s a decanter sitting on the top and one thick crystal cup. He reaches inside a drawer and pulls out another glass. It’s hard to tell what the drink is but when he brings both glasses, his nearly full over to the couch, you question his method of stress relief. 
He hands you the cup and goes to walk back and forth near the window, casually sipping his.
“Seriously?” He nods, predictably. You bring it to your lips.
“You don’t have to drink it,” He sighs, taking a quick sip. He walks back to sit back beside you, black strands cascading around his face like silk curtains when you look over.
"You think alcohol is better than a cigarette?" You questioned, a wry smile playing on your lips.
“It’s the lesser of the two evils, to me.” He picks his glass up, nursing it his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass.
As you started to rise, ready to escape the uncertain atmosphere, Yoongi's hand closed around your wrist, holding you in place. "We're not done talking," He stares up at you, hand not losing its grip.
Reluctantly, you take your seat back beside him. “What is this about?”
“I want you to know,” He stands to his feet, strolling over to the window, “I’m traditional, that’s how things are supposed to be done in the mafia. Whatever the fuck Namjoon and your brother have done, it’s not like that, even I got a little slack.”
"Okay,” You walk over stand beside him at the window, glass in hand, “why are you telling me this?”
“The family you choose comes before anyone else,” He empties the contents in his glass in one chug, then takes yours, “I defended your brother for a long time because of that code, he defiled it and took advantage of me,” He continues, “now I consider you family, in your brother's place.”
“Oh…what does that mean exactly?
“I’ll make sure this organization supports you, I’ll provide protection for you as long as you live," The weight of his words linger in the air.
"Whatever you decide to do with your life after this," he added, "even if it's against your brother, your relatives, anyone—you’re protected." the finality of his statement sends a chill down your spine.
“Even if I’m not with the group, you would still be there for me?…”
“Absolutely,” He downs the rest of your drink and sets it on the window sill, “without question.”
"You’ll be there?” You scoot to stand between him and the window, wanting further clarification.
“Yes,” He gazes down at you and his palm finds its way to your lower back, “I’ll be there for you, in a heartbeat.”
Your eyes dip down to his lips before landing back on his eyes. But only a few seconds, you expression shifts, and the sparkle in your eyes dims. “Jungkook used to talk like that..."
Yoongi's demeanor shifts subtly, a shadow passing over his eyes.
"Did he?" He knows very well that Jungkook spoke like that.
“Yeah,” You step away from him, “I still think he has those feelings for me..." You look down in thought, "I find myself thinking about it, what he would say to me if he wasn't in prison,”
"You're not bound to him anymore, you have to start living like that,” He says gently, “he doesn’t control you, not anymore.”
"Honestly, I miss him sometimes...” You admit, your voice tinged with regret. “That's crazy, isn't it?"
"It’s not crazy Y/n, he was a major part of your life," He sighs, accepting that whatever heat that might have been kindled is long gone. "it's not easy to forget about someone like him,”
“Yeah, it’s not…”
“But it’ll get easier,”
When you stare at him with a look of relief and naivety, he begins to sober himself. You’re not just anyone looking for attention, not a one-night stand he’ll never have to see again —you’re much more than that. You have a pre-existing weight in his life now. Anything that happens gets carried into the future of the relationship.
It would be nice to have this, wonderful even.
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ofstarsandvibranium · 11 months
Text
To Have & To Hold: Part 1
Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight (Mafia AU)
Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader, Jake Lockley x F!Reader
Summary: To ensure you're always safe even after his passing, your father, a mob boss, makes you marry his right hand, Marc Spector. You don't necessarily hate Marc, but you don't get along either. Therefore, this marriage of convenience may be a bit difficult for you.
A/N: another series because idk. felt like it.
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"-I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." You turn to your now husband and give him a smile. He pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours. There's hollers and whistles all around you. On the outside, you appear to be a couple so in love. On the inside, your heart is dropping to your stomach.
_____________________
6 Months Earlier
"I-I thought you said you were getting better," you look at your father in disbelief. He had just delivered some heart breaking news: he was dying.
For the past few years, he's been receiving treatment and he seemed to be getting better. Turns out, within the last year, he stopped treatment because he was getting tired.
"I was, but sunshine, I just couldn't take it anymore. I'm tired and I'm getting old. I just want to enjoy the last bit of life I have left."
Anger started building up within you. You clenched your jaw and tightened your fists, "But if you end your treatments, you don't get to enjoy life much after! Dad, please just-"
He holds up a hand and you stop talking, "I've already made up my mind, Sunny. And if you're concerned with your financial state-"
"You seriously think I'm concerned with that?" you can't help but be hurt by your father's insinuation.
"You're right. I'm sorry. I know you've never cared for this life," he gestures around to his office, "But, you should know something."
"What?" you're mentally preparing yourself for even more heartbreaking news.
"You and Marc are to be married."
Your eyes widen and your jaw drops, "Are you kidding me?!"
"He will be taking over as my successor once I'm gone and, to make sure you're well taken care of, you'll be marrying him." Your father states everything as factual, giving no room for refusal or compromise.
"But what if I'm already dating someone?"
"You're not. I know you're not. I still have my eyes on you despite you being an adult."
You scoff, "Un-fucking-believable."
There's a knock at your father's office door and he says, "Come in."
The man of the hour, Marc, enters the room. He sees your fuming expression and can't help but smirk, "I see he's told you."
"Clearly. And you're okay with this?!"
Marc shrugs, "Could be worse. Plus, we don't hate each other so this marriage won't be completely unbearable."
You scoff, "Speak for yourself!" you whip around to your father, "Dad-"
"I'm just looking out for you, sunshine."
"And if I don't go through with this?"
Your father's eyes darken, "You can say good-bye to that charity organization you've been working so hard towards."
"You wouldn't."
"Don't forget who still has the power here, sweetheart."
You look to Marc whom still has a neutral expression. You felt conflicted. You'd thought that in this day and age, you'd be able to make your own choices, be able to find someone who you love and they love you back. But the world you've grown up in isn't normal. Your dad is a well known mob boss and he has power. Marc isn't terrible, but you don't know him well. But the charity organization you've been working so hard towards helped children in the community. If your dad takes that away, they won't have anything.
"Fine," you say through gritted teeth, "I'll go through with this."
Your dad's expression changes to glee, "Wonderful! You have six months to get to know each other better before the wedding."
You look at him in surprise, "You already have the wedding date planned?"
"Yes, but the venue, dress, and all of that stuff will be left to you two, of course."
You roll your eyes, "Gee thanks."
"Congratulations you two. Let's have a drink!" you sit and watch as Marc goes to your father's liquor cabinet and pours the three of you a drink. With raised glasses, your father exclaims, "To the L/N Legacy!" the three of you clink glasses and you down the entire glass. You're going to need a lot more where that came from.
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bibbykins · 1 year
Text
Moonlight Reign Ch.1
A/N: Instead of forcing myself to focus on one series at a time, I'm planning to write what sparks joy to write in the moment and post it as I go! Hopefully this will clear some wips and help me feel less disorganized lmao! Not to say I'm not working on THB, I def am I just want to have something to post as I work on THB and the bigger projects like the LWAB fics among other things! So (hopefully) I'll keep these chapters limited to 5-7k, but we'll see lol pls enjoy and send me asks I thrive on them and so does my motivation!
And a huge thank you to my wonderful B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading ily!!
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader
Words: 5.7k
Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior not rlly in this part but soon, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, stitches, drunk Jungkook, tackling, pinning someone down, mention of open relationship, poly is the norm is this au
“It’s time to go now.” 
1, 2, 3, 4
“Five years after the fall of the underground power family, Moon Corporation, people still suspect an even more powerful company has taken their place since…”
1, 2, 3, 4
“It’s… so red…”
1, 2, 3, 4
“The exposure beheld more answers than questions, but on the five-year anniversary of the suicidal explosion that killed the head, Moon Byungyeol and his daughter, the elusive green-haired girl who was 18 at the time, colleagues mourn in secret and establishments fear an anniversary heist or something worst than last year as the date rapidly approaches…”
1, 2, 3, 4
“Locals have several theories on the big conglomerate that now controls Seoul’s business, underground and above, with the mafia organizations and gangs running rampant, people fear the government is under their thumb as well…”
1, 2- SHUT UP
You inhaled deeply as if just surfacing from the drowning body of water residing in your brain. Your fingers stilled from the tapping, a  desperate attempt to make you surface, a sorry technique your brief stint in therapy drilled into you. Maybe having nothing led to illogical personal connections with a number. Of all your training as an heir, it was the mundane basic curriculum lessons that fascinated you the most. You were never good at math, but you loved to be perplexed by the numbers. It was a humbling experience, and in your fruitless calculations, four was always the easiest to wrap your head around. Of course, you didn’t know how humbled you’d be until you were a 20 year old trying to figure out how to do middle school math. Your education left much to be desired growing up, but you still enjoyed learning. 
You used to be convinced four was too perfect of a number for such an ugly world, and though you let go of the notion with your past life, it didn’t change that it was a world you had to feign blind to now. In your youth, four was a beautiful result of a simple equation, a funny origin to big numbers. It was a warm hug among the violent reactions when you’d get questions far below your intended grade level wrong. In a world where stuffed animals were banned from your childhood room, the number four was all you had. You didn’t particularly like how pathetic that made you feel, but it didn’t change how much it helped you on days like these.
Your palms retracted from their firm placement on the wall you leaned on, relaxing you. Releasing your slightly curled fingers, you stifled a bitter laugh at the desperate attempt to grasp onto something. It was always so degrading to scrub off the marks your acrylics made along the wall, but the stiletto nails made taps loud enough to bring you back. It was an absolute mystery how the school you worked at let you get away with these. 
Your little episode was finished as you settled your mind with the news continuing to drone on. You massaged your jaw, sore from the subconscious clench you were cursed with. You blew out a sigh as you felt your face and nodded when no tears were felt. Your phone buzzed, alerting you to the time and you groaned. Your damn neighbor would be here any minute now.
Jungkook wasn’t a mean guy by any means, quite the opposite. He was extremely insistent on your well-being, so much so it bordered on doting, and such behavior made you clam up. You didn’t know how to respond to his fussing over you. Hell, you didn’t know how to respond to most interactions outside of your old family business for a long while. That was just one of the many things he taught you, and he never once lost his cool doing so. He was patient with you, and you didn’t know how to thank him for it. 
You both had been in the same class when you attended university, and while you were fine with letting your temporary acquaintanceship go no further than asking for notes or the occasional study session, he was a force to be reckoned with. You just kept running into him and when you moved here and found he was your next-door neighbor, you knew there was no getting out of it. He was going to be your friend. Although, you never understood why he wanted to be so bad. 
Cut to a whole year after you both graduated, and it still didn’t make any sense. You both were polar opposites in a lot of ways. He was the regular party boy always at clubs and coming home at ungodly hours of the night. Meanwhile, you were usually in bed by 11:00 pm and only left your apartment for the job that barely covered your rent. Needless to say, you weren't exactly a social butterfly, so if you found one friend in Jungkook, you figured it wouldn't be such a crime.
However, having Jungkook as a friend meant having a weekly dinner with him as he mooched off of your TV and you mooched off of the food he paid for. It was an even enough exchange. Plus, it was nice to talk freely, or well, as free as you've ever been able to, even if just for a little bit.
You faced the mirror, patting down your hair, thankful for how much healthier it was without the cheap dye job you had done yourself when you were 14, “That green didn’t suit me at all,” You mused, fixing your hair, “Plus it nearly ruined my hair.” You murmured to no one in particular, keeping track of your speeding thoughts as you settled back into Earth. 
Jungkook knocked on the door and you nodded to yourself, “It’s open!” You called and sat down at the table as he walked in, take-away bags in his hands.
“You really shouldn’t leave your door open like that, you know.” He tsked like he always did. It just made sense to leave it unlocked when you knew he was coming, especially if you needed to run to the bathroom so you could finish crying before facing him. Of course, you haven't had to do that in a while, but better safe than sorry. Your issues, for lack of better term, were no secret to Jungkook, and you both knew it, but you liked to avoid having him see you at your most vulnerable when you could help it.
You simply shrugged as you helped him unpack the food, “We’re the only ones on the top floor.” You reminded him, “it would be quite silly of a criminal to come all the way up to the 20th floor.” You chided.
“Still.” He tried to argue but quickly gave up. Jungkook knew by now that you could take care of yourself, but sometimes you wished you’d let him do it for you more often. However, he let this potential argument go, this time. He looked around and narrowed his gaze at the TV, “Why do you still have the news on?” 
You paused and looked up from your food as it prattled on about your family, “I guess I forgot,” You forced your casual tone, “Did you get-”
“Syndicates, huh…?” He echoed the news reporter’s words, eyes fixated on the screen with a curious look, “The news is so weird with this stuff.”
The chopsticks in your hand stilled. You wanted to say that the syndicates were even weirder since they were the ones that probably signed off on the script. As a little girl, that was the first thing you had learned, how to play chess outside on a park bench, how to play chess crushing people in your hands as you moved them. It had all been the same to you for far too long. 
“Like I care, it’s just background noise.” A lie, you hated lying, but it was something you had to get used to doing for the sake of your safety.
“You aren't scared of these guys at all?” Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy, although his eyes didn't match the rest of his face's intensity.
Shaking off the weird notion, you rolled your eyes, “A world without you buying me dinner is pretty spooky but that,” You gestured to the TV, “Is a cheap haunted house in comparison to the hell of making dinner or worse, ordering it myself, on a Friday night.” You giggled.
Jungkook rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Is that all I am to you? A sugar daddy?” He asked in mock offense and you nearly spit out your drink.
You swallowed roughly before glaring at him as he laughed, “If you’re my sugar daddy, I need a new one.” You retorted and his laugh died while a childish pout settled on his face, “I mean, all I get is a measly dinner once a week and I still have to work and pay my bills?” 
“Well, what do I get, huh?” He crossed his arms, and it made you chuckle. Laughter had never come easy to you growing up, and it still had a hard time coming to you but after years by Jungkook’s side it was easier than ever to do, “Where’s my sugar?” He thrusted his cheek toward you, tapping on it with his index finger.
You rolled your eyes in spite of the flutter in the pit of your stomach and pushed his face away with your index finger, “My presence is your sugar, dummy.” You teased and how easy it was to be human around him made you smile wider, “Plus I let you watch your silly little shirtless men.” 
He clicked his tongue, “First of all, if you’re going to call them shirtless men, at least call them hot because look at him.” He pressed a button on your remote and his favorite fighter, Park Jimin filled the screen, “Second of all, it’s literally fewer syllables to just say MMA fights.”
You took a bite of your food and shrugged, “Don’t you have, like, a million boyfriends? Wouldn’t you make them jealous drooling all over Jimin?” You challenged, vaguely remembering Jungkook saying he had more than three boyfriends at some point. Not that it was surprising, most people had at least two significant others. Unless they were you, of course. You had no one to talk to but the man sitting in front of you, forget about a significant other. “He would make me pretty damn insecure.” You chuckled.
Jungkook scrunched his brows at you, “Six.” He corrected, mirth filling his eyes already.
You looked from the TV to him, “Hm?” You tilted your head to the side.
“I have six boyfriends, thank you very much.” He stated matter-of-factly, and you rolled your eyes at his tone, “Why? Are you trying to give me seven significant others?” He feigned a scandalous gasp, “Well, the relationship is open, you know, so I guess I could pencil you in–” You cut him off by shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth with a glare. The teasing made your chest seize for a split moment when faced with his teasing smirk, so this had been the best way to shut him up. 
Jungkook had always been a flirt, he often relished in teasing you to see how embarrassed you would get. Thankfully, over the years you had gotten used to it. You had already known his relationship was open since he mentioned how often they’re all apart, but you didn’t care to entertain that kind of intimacy with Jungkook even in your thoughts these days. It was just better that way.
“Ha, ha, we got a comedian.” You deadpanned and before you could say anything else, something on the screen caught your eyes, “What the fuck?” You mumbled.
“What?” Jungkook inquired as he looked at the TV, swallowing the food you fed him.
The camera had panned over the crowd and over an eerily familiar face poorly covered with sunglasses. The etching of a scar peeking out of the cheap frames told you all you needed, though. That was your uncle. 
What the hell was he doing showing his face? Let alone this close to the five-year anniversary of everything. The new syndicate in charge took great joy in celebrating the fall of your family, no doubt they’re itching for someone to make an example of someone. Worry tried to leak its way into your veins, but you fought it. Why should you care about him? If he wanted to sign his death certificate, that was on him.
Still, the sight of a man you were almost positive you’d never see again made you feel uneasy. You’d acclimated to regular life quite well, so one of the few remnants of your past life appearing like a ghost was ominous. In spite of your unease, you couldn’t look away. Almost as if you were waiting for him to poof away. You kinda wished he would. 
The camera changed and you finally blinked.
“N-Nothing.” You finally said, shaking your head, “I just thought I recognized someone, that’s all.” Your hands trembled for the briefest of moments as you lifted food to your mouth.
“Oh really, who?” Your only friend asked curiously and you shrugged as you chewed.
“Just some teacher that called in today.” You lied and it made your food taste sour for a moment. It was for the best you lied, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. 
“Hell, I’d call in too if it meant I could see the fight live.” You were thankful Jungkook dropped the topic and let your shoulders relax. You shouldn’t feel bad for lying, really. An unspoken rule between you both was that you never pried about private details. Jungkook led his life and you led yours. Hell, you don’t even know what he does for a living, but it wouldn’t surprise you if it was living off of his boyfriends’ income. Not to mention you didn’t even know if he lived with anyone else next door or if that was just a place of his own to use on occasions. Though, you couldn’t help being a little jealous at the idea of being so pampered. 
“Yeah, I could go for a silly little shirtless man fight on occasion.” You shrugged with a cheeky grin. 
“Silly?!” Jungkook guffawed, “I’ll have you know if he wins this fight, he’ll qualify for the championship, so this is pretty high stakes.” He toted his knowledge of the sport.
“Hasn’t he already been champion like a few times now?” You asked, barely following.
“Yeah, but, he’s been off his game this season for… personal reasons, so he’s never been this close to not qualifying.” He admitted, and your brows scrunched at the melancholy in his eyes. 
“Damn.” You mustered, “How do you know all this?” You asked, genuine curiosity lighting your eyes.
Suddenly, Jungkook’s cheeks reddened as he tore his eyes from you, “Interviews and stuff, you know.” He waved his hand dismissively and you rolled your eyes. 
“Nothing wrong with being a fanboy.” You chided, “I’m certainly in no place to judge.” You offered, reminding him of your fixation on TV dramas, making him snort before you both honed in on the TV.
These fights were quite fascinating and allowed you to at least tap into some of your training. It was how you knew that Jimin was going to win this fight from the first calculated punch, his form was immaculate and instead of going for the face, he drove his fist into his opponent’s ear. It was a dirty trick, but it was more than enough to give him an opening. 
“Holy shit, I think he might win this.” The fanboy across from you breathed. 
“No way he isn’t going to win.” You confirmed.
“Don’t get my hopes too far up.” He all but squeaked out, basically on the edge of his seat.
After a couple of rounds and idle chitchat, the fight ended with Jimin as the victor. You clapped lightly, but Jungkook was so elated he hugged you as he let out a celebratory roar. The first couple of times he did this shocked you so bad your hands almost went to snap his neck. Now that you were both years into the friendship though, the gesture just made you chuckle. Soon after, just like it did every match, Jungkook’s phone vibrated and he had to leave. He always left you with some kind of affection and this time it was a kiss on the cheek, a rare one, but not a huge step from the common forehead kisses he gave you.
“Don’t drink too much.” You warned and he flashed you a cheeky smile, “At least don’t get into trouble.”
“We’ll see.” He chuckled,  and you rolled your eyes.
“Well then don’t make it my problem!” You yelled and he waved a hand as he closed your door behind him. 
“Father?” You whimpered as a strong hand patted your head to calm you, or soften the blow of what was to come, you couldn’t quite tell, “Tell me you didn't.” Your voice was in shambles as you trembled beneath his palm.
The news mocked you as panic took a hold of your body, shaking it out of the shred of blissful ignorance you had clung onto. Ever since your father took you in, you had many responsibilities, but the comfort of not needing to keep up with the public facade kept you going. You hated the public, all the pleasantries, and honeyed words. None of it made sense, and now, now you felt foolish for not involving yourself more. For not ensuring that something like this could never happen and crumble the only world you’ve known. 
Still, even as despair monopolized your nerves, a tear wouldn’t fall. You weren’t sure if you knew how to shed them, but you knew it would only piss off your father. 
Moon Byungyeol was a rough man and calling him father teetered between feeling genuine and like a formality. He was a boss first, but sometimes he wore the mask of a dad. Sometimes, but it was enough times with enough gusto that you couldn’t tell which side of him best represented his true self– or if he even had a truthful bone within himself. 
He may have been rough, but he was all you had. He and the family he brought you into had been your first priority all your life, even when you had never really been his priority at all.
Not unless you could be used as currency. 
“Y/n, it's time for us to go,” His voice was somber, but even. You’d never seen him so outwardly upset, but even so, he didn’t so much as let his eyes water as his life’s work shattered before his eyes. He was left with a subdued longing as he looked at the TV, melancholic defeat infecting his usually strong posture, “I let this greed consume me, and I'm afraid it's begun eating not just me alive now.” He admitted and it made you feel ill. 
“...such evidence is linking the Moon Corporation to heinous organized crime activities painting them as a possible syndicate, but no arrests have been made nor has a formal criminal investigation on Moon Byungyeol himself been launched, but many workers under the company are being investigated due to possible involvement…”
Everything was dying. The realization that everything you did, all the lives you took, all the training you had suffered through, had never been for some prosperous empire you were promised. All of it had been to supply the lining of your father’s and uncle’s pockets. You should’ve been angry, shocked, or even appalled, but you weren't. You were numb to the fact that you were raised on lies. Fear resided in your veins about what that meant for you. 
“If I just cash out and retire, we could never live in peace,” He shook his head as he switched off the TV before he placed his hands on your shoulder, catching your attention, “But Uncle Byungjoo has a plan that I think might just work.” You swallowed hard at this. Anything Byungjoo could think seldom meant good things for you. On your best days with him, you were a mere afterthought, but on the worst days– most days– you were–”The only thing is that you and I will have to… separate…”
He was going to abandon it. No, he was going to abandon you. The only thing more pitiful than your fear had to be your shock. What reason did you truly have to be surprised that he was throwing you away just as easily as he picked you? He was going to cash out one last time, and leave like this whole operation meant nothing to him. All the while you had put an inkling of faith in his heart to love this empire, like a fool. At the very least, it was the closest thing to love that you knew. This entire place was all you knew. When was the last time you had gone out on your own as anything but his daughter?
“But…” Your mouth was woefully dry, “The empire, just like you said, it’s-”
“We were never an empire,” His self-loathing clung to each word and disgust curled in your stomach as you looked at his solemn face, “I treated this organization as a bank, a money maker, it was inevitable that the paper I cradled would catch fire.” The roundabout way he was speaking began to grate at your nerve. The pseudo-poeticism of his words did nothing to save his dignity, but you didn’t tell him that. 
You didn't scream, yell, or cry. 
At least you hadn't, yet.
“Then who will rule Seoul?” You wondered aloud.
“That’s not my problem anymore.” He said as if it were the easiest thing to come to terms with.
“Who will stay with me?” You asked meekly, immediately regretting it as you watched his previous words dance on his lips before he decided against it.
He smiled warmly at you and it brought a chill down your spine, “Some of us are meant to be alone.” He patted your shoulder and you wanted so badly to break into pieces from the impact. 
No one would stay with you. Not him, not anyone, and he didn't care.
That wasn't the answer you had hoped for. You hung your head in shame, shame that you expected anything other than a cold answer from a man on fire. The request for him to just kill you was on the time of your tongue before he turned around, ready to attend his last hurrah.
////
You woke up with a start from a bang outside, but considering the fact that it was 4 am, you chalked it up to city noise. Now awake, you stared at the ceiling and blew out an annoyed sigh. You were constantly plagued with flashbacks both in and out of your dreams, and you wished the rancid memories would choose one state of consciousness to haunt you in. Your therapist a couple of years back told you it's normal for people who have gone through what you have to constantly see what you were then in trying to dissect where you are now. Essentially, it was a constant cloud that hung over your head, and no matter how far you removed yourself from that life, its consequences would stay etched into your skin.
Another bang sounded outside your window and you grimaced. Anniversary week was beginning, and you felt more on edge than usual.
Five years ago exactly, you saw the match light. In four days, it will have officially been five years since you saw the flames engulf your home, your family, and everything you were. Each year, this week was chaos for the city of Seoul. Each day was accompanied by an event that slowly grew more and more above ground. It was almost mocking the past, the surfacing of dirty secrets. Secrets the world knew, but never wanted to see, cowards.
The new syndicate at the top of the kingdom was known as Bangtan to the underground scene, but with a “Group” tacked on after the ominous name, they were also the kings of the business world. They were much better at actually hiding their identities, hence why most average people assumed there was no such syndicate anymore or that the “law” took care of it. As if the “law” wasn’t under the thumb of the kings. 
Even so, your information could very well be outdated. The whispers from the underground, also known as the Underworld or even more to the point, Hell, reached your ears less and less as you removed yourself from the lives of anyone who knew who you were. No longer working at the diner your previous nanny ran shut you off from the underground so much so you seldom became aware of Anniversary Week’s events until two days before the main event. 
Another bang, but this time on your door, startled you out of your thoughts, “I can’t believe you went to the bar on a day like today- where are your keys?!” An unfamiliar voice spoke through your door.
“Ask, y/n,” Jungkook’s slurred voice rang out in a yell as you flinched at the volume, “Y/n! I need stitches!” 
This wasn't the first time Jungkook was yelling outside your door, demanding your assistance. This was just another facet of your friendship that you both silently agreed was fine. You never really asked questions, you just patched him up and left him on your couch. It really wasn't any of your business, nor did you have any desire for it to be. Jungkook was an MMA fan, and you knew he was big on that scene and the fitness scene, so it just made sense he would get into fights. You could only hope these fights were agreed upon prior to alcohol, but you weren't naive enough to actually assume that was the case.
“This isn’t even your door, baby, come on.” The voice grunted and your attention peaked. You had encountered a few men trying to help Jungkook home, but you seldom got such an obvious confirmation of their relationship with him, “What? Are you trying to booty call your neighbor?” The unknown man teased and you rolled your eyes. Were they all like this?
“I wish!” Jungkook shouted in response and you were fine with leaving your door closed this time until he spoke, “Ew, I’m dripping on the doormat.”
This made you huff as you hopped out of bed in your large t-shirt and shorts and ripped the door open. You were faced with a man with perfectly styled black hair in a three-piece suit accompanied by a trashed Jungkook with a short, but deep, cut on the corner of his forehead. The man that looked a few years older than you and Jungkook stopped struggling with your neighbor as he looked at you with the most pristine and exasperated face.Everything about this man was polished. Even as your neighbor lazily draped around the man, his suit had barely begun to wrinkle. 
Meanwhile, he looked you up and down with contempt before sighing, “Look, just forget we were-”
“Y/n!” Jungkook cheered before he passed out.
“No booty calls here, sorry.” You remarked flatly, “He usually keeps his keys in his wallet for some reason.” You nodded to his pocket before you looked at his forehead again, “But he does need stitches.” You opened your door a little more, gesturing for them to come in.
The man narrowed his eyes at you, “Do you usually play nurse for him?” You bit your tongue and swallowed his condescending tone with a sigh. You couldn’t tell if he was jealous at the thought of his boyfriend having some neighbor who treats his wounds in the dead of night or if he simply didn’t like you. Although looking at his face, there was no way this man was jealous of you. His gaze was sharp nonetheless, sharp and vaguely familiar, but his eyes held no recognition for you, so you let it go.
“Only when his blood is dripping on my doormat, for the third time this month,” You pointed to the sullied mat that you had just cleaned fully this week, “Bring him in, this isn’t that uncommon-” 
“But-” He tried to object, noticeably a little clammy at the unspoken knowledge of their relationship. 
“Any more blood on that mat and I'm making you pay for it, now come on,” You snapped as he walked in and sat Jungkook in a chair around your table. You shut the door as you pulled your first aid kit out, “You have to sit him on the floor or the couch.”
He complied to the couch, and though he didn’t say anything, you could see the question floating around his mind.
“When he wakes up, he attacks whoever is in front of him,” You spoke, preparing the needle and thread, and you had to ignore the curiosity peaking within you when you saw the other man shift uncomfortably at your comment,  “And I can't stitch and hold him down at the table,” You explained, settling your knees to lock on both sides of Jungkook’s legs and your elbows pressing on his shoulders.
“Aren't you scared he'll hurt you?” The man asked as you began stitching.
You scoffed, “I can play scared if that's what you want, but certainly not for free.” You chuckled, but he remained straight-faced. Tough crowd. You worked very hard to develop your banter skills these past five years, but he paid them no mind making your smile drop. 
Eventually, you just went on stitching in silence until the man broke the silence, “Who are you?” The man spoke mid-way through your stitching.
You paused for a moment, “Didn't you hear Jungkook? I’m y/n, and who are you?”
“None of your concern,” He clipped.
You snorted a chuckle, “You're bleeding on my hardwood floor, that has me pretty concerned.” You gestured to your hand to show him the small cut on his and he slowly grabbed a napkin to press against his hand with his mouth in a thin line, “Concerned for my floor I mean.” You clarified, “But a word of advice? If you don’t want to be suspicious of you, don’t act suspicious.” 
He sighed, “My name is Namjoon-”
You were tying the final knot when Jungkook snapped his eyes open, “Shit.” Was all you were able to get out. He immediately dove at you, pushing you to the floor, making the needle in your hand scratch your forearm before you threw it across the room to avoid the tempting notion of stabbing him with it. You sucked in a breath through your teeth at the burning sensation while you struggled to shake him out of it. 
It didn’t take a genius to deduce why Jungkook’s fight or flight was so concentrated, he’d obviously grown up with a reason to be. Nevertheless, it has never been your place to pry or judge, if anything, it’d be quite hypocritical. He'd seen you in a less-than-ideal mental state plenty of times, to put it lightly. Plus, you knew he didn’t mean any harm, and he was always pretty apologetic after the fact. Although, you were sure the struggle looked pretty concerning as you saw Namjoon scramble to his feet. 
Namjoon was trying to find an opening to cut in between the battle as Jungkook was sloppily throwing his fist down and you were moving your head to dodge each blow. Though his moves were sloppy, they were still fast and you could only dodge for so long. With no other option left, you sighed before slamming your forehead on his fresh stitches to make him stop to register the pain. You took advantage of the opening as you effortlessly pinned his arms down with your knees planted on his upper arms, “Jungkook!” You snapped as Namjoon watched his younger friend finally recognize you in his drunken haze.
“Y-Y/n?” He questioned, his tongue thick in his mouth, “You hurt my head- hey, you’re bleeding on my shirt!”
Your arm had a scratch about half the length of your forearm, it was shallow and oozing blood, but you didn’t flinch, “Wonder who made me hurt both my arm and their head, dumbass,” You muttered, examining his stitches to make sure the impact didn’t affect the new suture, “And you got your blood on my doormat and my forehead, so let’s call it a draw.” You grunted as you fixed the suture.
The sight of someone towering over his boyfriend after headbutting them made Namjoon on edge. Jungkook talked for days and days about how much he loved spending time with his neighbor, but something was… off about you. Why would a school nurse be that skilled in combat? Jungkook was a ruthless fighter and you hardly flinched. 
This string of thoughts prompted his mistake of grasping your wounded forearm to make you stand so he could properly question you. What he didn’t calculate in that movement was the fact that he grasped your fresh cut, which hurt like a bitch. This pain made you bring your other forearm to his neck, pressing firmly into his trachea as his back hit the wall with a bang. You both looked at each other in surprise at your reflex. You gasped softly before releasing him, “Don’t ever manhandle a lady, Namjoon,” You mumbled as you brought distance between the two of you, “I don’t do well being frightened.”
Namjoon regained his composure, impressed by your reaction time and ability to weaken his pride in such a short matter of seconds, “Who are you?” His tone was rougher in comparison to when he first asked the question.
“None of your concern,” You mocked his voice cartoonishly, becoming more and more irritated with his line of questioning, “Now take him, an alcohol pad, and go.” You hissed, unceremoniously tossing the package at him.
He gave you a sharp glare but complied, hauling Jungkook over his shoulder and leaving.  The door shut and you let a relieved sigh escape you. You shut your eyes tightly, frustrated that you let your instincts take over like that. Namjoon was undoubtedly suspicious and that’s the last thing you needed. You opened your eyes and caught sight of the clock nearing 5 am, and it was a Saturday now, so you were going to sleep in as much as you could.
----------------------------------------------------------
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heeversee · 5 months
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Heeversee Presents ✨
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Yander Au
Chapter 01
Genre: dark romance
Mention of blood.
yander, obsessed, mafia, Stalker heeseung.
Damn it's a lot. For my anons who requested me to add all these in one. So here it is.
Please leave if you're uncomfortable with all these things.
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Spotify playlist
Criminal love (by enhypen)
The night we met (by lord Huron)
Chaccone (by enhypen)
Do I wanna know (by Arctic monkeys)
Given-taken (by enhypen)
Maniac (by stray kids)
Gasoline (by Halsey)
(⁠/⁠¯⁠◡⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠◡⁠)⁠/⁠¯⁠ ⁠~⁠ ⁠┻⁠━⁠┻............乁⁠༼⁠☯⁠‿⁠☯⁠✿⁠༽⁠ㄏ
You gasp
"what is happening here" you watch with your favourite sketch book burning.
"ohhh dear dear, my hand slipped" you heard a very annoying voice.
You silently pick your half burnt sketch book and glare at the bunch of dumb heads who bully you.
Bulling wasn't new for you. You were bullied all along your school life. Even now in your workplace.
And suddenly one day you found yourself not wanting to go to work. You were tired of fighting with the bullies, after a week of thinking about your detroiting mental health you decided to give your resignation letter and live your life.
3 months later
The bells jingle indicating above your head as your enter your safe place, the art shop. The smell of panits and canvas lingering in the air.
You took everything you needed but the last thing that was missing was red paint. You went to the paint corner to find a single tube of big red paint lying on the top shelf.
You run towards the shelf trying to reach the tube, you felt warmth on your back and a very veiny hand reaching the tube. You turn to see a tall man with his face covered by hoodie. All you could see was looming dark shadow.
"umm can I take that" you muttered pointing out the red tube.
The hooded man took a sharp breath which sacred you thinking that you could have made him angry
"ummm, I'm sorry. It's okay, it's okay I'll find the paint in another store" I laughed akwardly.
He suddenly held my hand and handed me the tube.
I tilt my head "can I take it?" I question softly
He nods his head once and that was enough to make me smile for once in last three months.
I bowed, thanking him and left the shop after billing.
Heeseung
He watches you walking to your apartment. Heeseung quickly reach to his room and watching you through the window, exactly opposite of your apartment He watchs you twirl around in your space happily.
That's all heeseung has done.
Watch.
All he has done is watching you from afar. He wishes to kiss you, hold you into his arms, cook for you, buy you paint and watch you paint for hours. But all he has done is watch you from afar.
*distant muffling sounds*
"ahh" he sighs. "I totally forgot about you" he turns around and pulls out a sword hanging on the wall. He unsheaths the sword and the dried blood covering the entire sword.
He watches the girls who bullied you tied up with their mouth stiched witch thick red wire. Blood flowing from their mouths as they cry.
"let's see.... What do i add in my collection now...." He swirls the sword.
"your blood" heeseung laughs like a maniac after killing the three girls.
He collects the blood in a long tube.
As he walks to the window blood pooling in his room. He orders the men standing beside the door to clean and dispose the bodies
He closes the cap and watches you paint the canvas red from his window.
"maybe I'll gift it to you someday. My little one."
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Idk how to actually feel about this. I'm still thinking about what twist to make in this series.
A new day a new me 😂
I hope you all like this.
Fuck I'm so nervous.
Thank you for you all anons for comforting me. I hope to live a long life.
Thank you and love you 🎀🪐
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mediumgayitalian · 3 months
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fic rec friday 3
hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!
Memories Made by zjass06
"Hi! I'm Will! You're my new neighbour!" the blonde boy beams; Nico frowns in turn, peering curiously at this Will. "My ma' says not to talk to strangers," Nico replies as he sits himself upon the grass. Will plops himself down next to the dark haired boy, who giggles so purely it makes his smile contagious. "I'm not a stranger, I'm your neighbour! You live next to me now and we can be friends!" Or A few snippets of Nico’s life and how his friendship develops with Will, all within a much treasured treehouse.
childhood friends to lovers will ALWAYS be elite. to me. and the centrality of this treehouse in this fic is so fucking cute bc they absolutely are the type of nerds to have a treehouse they use well into their late teens lol
2. Mafia by @buoyantsaturn
Nico is the most terrifying mob boss in New York, and Will is his live-in doctor. A Mafia Au
MY FAVE SOLANGELO SERIES TBH. like is it toxic a little bit? yeah. did the second one make me squeamish? yeah. in the 6/7 years since its been posted, have i read it literally DOZENS of times?? you betcha. idk man theres something about the danger of it all. the insane mob boss and the doctor hes whipped for. SO SO much fun and so so so romantic
3. you stormed into the battlefield (of my heart) by fedyaism
“Doctor Solace,” he says, “would you be willing to tend to a foe?” Will blinks. (He had practically expected everything but this.) “I’m sorry?” “I need you to heal an enemy for me. Can you do that?” Grace asks in a tone that lets Will know that he wasn’t really asking. “An… an enemy, sir?” “Yes. I will send him to you.” “Of course, General.” (What else could he say?)
this ends ambiguously but i am Choosing to believe they find each other again and live happily ever after for ever and ever bc im a weenie. its just...man fuck the military and i got no fondness for war BUT this isnt real and ergo i can sigh dreamily at love that is inherently kind of tragic and all the more desperately beautiful for you, yknow??
4. It's a Process by @oh-hush-its-perfect
When Nico comes out to Hazel, she really isn't sure how to react. Of course, she loves her brother to pieces, but something is holding her back. It takes a while to get over old beliefs. It takes a while to become accepting. It takes Hazel a while indeed. A.K.A. Nico is gay and Hazel can't wrap her head around it.
contrary to what the summary may lead you to believe, hazel is NOT at all homophobic in this fic. in fact her number one goal at all times is to be supportive, even as she struggles, and you know what? thats more important i think. her love for her brother is so transparently obvious in this one, she spends like 8k words doing everything she can to make SURE she is loving and accepting!!! hazel i love you. also the campfire scene had me giggling fr
5. three times everyone thought they hated each other by lizamarri
and the one time everyone realized they didn't ~ ft. capture the flag, big three kids sparring, will healing nico and being sassy about it, and more. enjoy!
NOTHING hits as hard as flirt fighting. truly nothing. also 3+1s are my weakness i stg, theres just something about outside pov and the sheer clarity of how much they love each other and love driving each other up the wall lmfao
thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!
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sunnebeam · 10 months
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"this is our territory."
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A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.
pairing: min yoongi x reader
plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.
warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, there's only one (1) bastard that can defeat yoongi 😟
masterlist + disclaimers.
note: the fact that my top 2 fics on this blog w the most notes/engagements are both yoongi fics,,,, the power he holds!! 😤 as always, hope yous enjoy this cute drabble and let me know ur thoughts!
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You love the weekends.
No work. No stress. No bosses nagging at you to work overtime. No files waiting for you to sort through.
Just you, your poodle, and your husband.
There's absolutely nothing that can ruin your weekend. Nothing except—
"YOU BASTARD!"
You jolt upright from your bed, eyes wide in alarm when you hear your husband's normally calm voice shouting profanities from the other room. Luckily, Holly remains deep in slumber on Yoongi's side of the bed even as you're scrambling to the kitchen.
You almost trip on your own two feet when you see Yoongi on the kitchen floor – shirtless, sweaty, and looking absolutely defeated.
"Yoonie?! What happened?"
He's wearing a pained expression.
"I didn't see him coming."
"Who?!"
"I'm sorry, darling," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I let him get away."
What? Is there a burglar in the apartment?!
"Yoonie, what are you—"
"He's in the living room."
With anxious heartbeats, you and Yoongi head to the living room area. Fortunately, your apartment is tiny enough that every room is next to each other so it only takes a couple of steps for you to near the entryway to the living room. Craning your head, you take a peak to find...
"There he is."
...a cockroach.
Wait—
A cockroach?
You scream, clutching your husband as you hide behind him.
"There are roaches in this building?!" you screech, disgusted when you remember how the landlord conveniently left this little detail when you both first moved in.
"Stay behind me, darling," your husband orders and you look down to see him holding a pest repellent spray in his hand. "I'll handle this."
Your knees quiver when he takes slow steps toward the roach.
"You bastard," he continues, "you think you can just come breaking and entering?"
He's a few steps away.
"This is our territory," he growls as he positions the repellent and his finger hovers over the nozzle. "Die, you bastard!"
He sprays.
Nothing comes out.
"Shit," Yoongi mumbles. "I'm out of ammo."
And then the unthinkable happens.
"Yoonie, it's fucking flying!"
The cockroach flies. Higher. And higher. Then it descends.
"No," you whisper, horrified. "Please, no."
It lands on Yoongi's bare chest.
"Darling," your husband calls out to you, his body frozen but his voice shaky. "I need you to kill it. Even if you get me, too."
"No, no, no. This can't be happening."
You're hysterical.
"You can do it, darling," he assures you, his head jerking to gesture to a spare newspaper laying on the floor. "I know you can."
"But—"
"We have to protect our turf! Do it!"
A tear falls down your cheek. Without any other choice, you take a deep breath before getting the newspaper and folding it in a fan-like pattern.
Once it's all folded, you straighten up. You look your husband in the eye, and all you see is love, pride, and acceptance.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
And with the newspaper in your hand, you scream, swinging your arm back and running towards your husband, before you whip the newspaper forward and slam it on his skin.
You miss.
"I'm sorry, Yoonie," you mumble, head down as you eye the reddening mark on his forehead where you accidentally hit him.
The cockroach is long gone now, having flown out the opened window when you tragically missed it and ended up hitting your husband instead.
"Don't worry about it," he tells you, chuckling.
Yoongi shakes his head at you, endeared. He reaches out a hand and caresses your cheek lovingly.
"You did well, darling."
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COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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adonis-koo · 1 year
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sweet nothing • 5
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(In which he is most definitely sick)
↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.
His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader
↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!
Word Count: 2k
Previous | Next
Note: I'm back AGAIN, simply because I can't get enough of these two!!! they're my life line these days tbh! i know I said there wasn't a lot of plot to this BUT....theres definitely some plot if you squint
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“Are you sick?” 
Jungkook looked horrendous, it was evident he hadn’t showered yet, as his hair was somewhat oily, wild and unbrushed, his voice was raspy and the moment he greeted you good morning, it was evident he was congested. 
“I don’t get sick.” Jungkook replied, but his voice alone gave away the discomfort he was feeling, he sat at the small table attempting to eat but after two bites and the pure agony of attempting to swallow, he gave up. 
Your lips parted before closing once more, a sigh escaping you, “If only that were the case,” this had been your concern since he had come home late a few days ago, soaked to the bone and freezing cold. 
Yesterday when he had taken you out you noticed he had been sniffling, but aside from that he sounded totally find, today he looks like he had been hit with a car.
Jungkook rolled his eyes, “I have three board meetings today, a stack of paper work in my office that needs to be signed and a deal tonight at the Red Light, I can’t afford to be sick.” 
“Jungkook,” You chastised softly, “Do you even hear yourself? I don’t think anybody is gonna want to be around you when you sound like that. What are your symptoms?” 
“I’m not-”
“Yes you are!” You spoke over him, your expression shifting into anger at his stubbornness, “whether you like it or not! You’re sick. Now tell me so I can figure out whether I need Jimin to call the doctor or not.” 
Jungkook groaned as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in thought before he reluctantly spoke, “My throat feels like it’s on fire. Even speaking feels like I’m swallowing a dagger.”
“And I have a massive headache,” He ushered softly, eyes closing as he rubbed his head.
Your expression softened once more, “Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll call for Jimin to get the doctor and make sure you’re alright,”
“I am alright.” Jungkook replied, puffed up at your words, one glare however shut him up.
He tiredly blinked as he sunk into his seat, “I can’t just take the day off.” 
“Then do what you can from bed.” You said with a frown, “But you’ll make others sick and yourself worse if you go out today.” 
He said nothing got a long moment before he shook his head and got out of his chair, your eyes followed him across the room until he left, somewhat surprised at his lack of argument.
Yeonjun who had been digging through a folder off to the side briefly glanced up to the closed door and then to you, “That’s a first.”
“Pardon?” You asked.
He smiled, “Jungkook letting someone boss him around. It’s a rather nice change of pace.” 
You scratched your cheek, uncertain of how to take the his words, your lack of reply only made Yeonjun continue though, “Y’know he used to..,” He cut himself off, as if realizing it wasn’t his place to meddle, “Sorry, I won’t bring it up. I’m sure neither of you want to dig up the past.”
The past…You gave a sad smile, picking at your food, “It’s alright, there’s nothing to dig up, Jungkook was a nice acquaintance back before I was pregnant, if you could even call him that. Nothing more…Yoongi is his partner, right?”
Yeonjun frowned, looking away warily before he eventually nodded, “You’ve met?”
You shook your head, “Only once, a long time ago, informally might I add.” 
“Do you want me to ring for Jimin?” Yeonjun decided to change the subject, “That way you can finish eating?”
You nodded with a grateful smile, “Yes! That would be quite helpful.” 
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Jungkook looked downright annoyed as the doctor poked and prodded at him before he had finally come to a conclusion.
Turning to you as it was evident Jungkook was not in a good mood, “The good news is that it’s only a case of tonsillitis.” 
You sighed in relief before you asked, “Is there bad news?”
“It’s a bacterial infection, so we’ll need to put him on antibiotics. Lots of rest and warm, soft foods will help, he should be better in a few days at most once the antibiotics are in his system.” The doctor gave a warm smile.
“Few days?” Jungkook’s brows pinched together in annoyance.
“I’ll be sure to keep him rested.” You cut over him with a smile, “Thank you Doctor Choi.” 
“Of course Y/n, I will see you on Friday for your check up.” He gave a short bow before existing the room.
“I can’t be in bed for a few days!” Jungkook immediately piped up, though you didn’t miss the slight wince in expression at the obvious pain he was feeling.
“Doctors orders.” You gave him a sweet smile as you held your hands up.
He slumped back, glaring through his bangs at nothing in particular, “Can you at least get my laptop?” 
You let out a noise of amusement as you stood up, one hand on your stomach, the other on your dully aching back, “I didn’t realize having strep throat made your legs not work.” 
“You want me in bed or not?” 
“I’m going, I’m going.” You giggled as you waddled out of the room and into the open space of his office, digging through paperwork you made sure nothing was messed up, before finding his laptop charger and eventually finding the source as well. 
Opening the cracked door to his room however you smiled softly as the sight of him laid back down, knocked out once again, a soft snore even escaping him as you tutted, walking over you set his laptop on his nightstand before tenderly pulling his covers back over his shoulder. 
His expression looked so delicate when he was asleep, lips parted slightly and brows relaxed, tenderly you brushed your fingers through his hair before catching yourself. 
Your hand snapping back to your chest as if it had been burned, swallowing hard you shook your head, you had been thinking about the past a lot more these days. 
You couldn’t help but wonder if Jungkook did the same. 
Frowning you shook your head before you exited his room, there was no point dwelling on the what-if’s after all. 
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Most of the day had gone by quietly, there was something different about the estate when Jungkook was home, even if he was sleeping away or working in his room, his energy still filled the air and brought a comforting feeling to whatever you did. 
Eventually the afternoon passed and an idea had overtaken you. 
“What are you doing?” Yeonjun paused at the door as he cocked his head to the side, brimming with curiosity. 
You turned towards Yeonjun with a grin, “You can’t tell Jungkook.”
He sighed, “I hate when you start a sentence with that.” 
You pouted, “I’m making him soup!” 
Yeonjun looked relieved, “Oh…okay, better than I anticipated, it does smell good here.” He glanced around the empty kitchen, “But the kitchen staff are already preparing supper.” 
You crossed your arms once more, “Well, that doesn’t change that I’m making him something to eat. There’s nothing like home cooking when you’re sick!”
Yeonjun held up his hands, “If it’s from you I’m sure he’ll love it….” He shuffled closer before peering over your shoulder, “Will there be extra?” 
“Are you asking for a bowl?” You grinned.
“Only if there’s extra.” 
“There’s plenty.” You replied with an excited smile, giving a little happy dance as you grabbed a set of bowls, proudly pouring your soup before handing one to Yeonjun who looked like a little kid snatching it from your hands. 
Setting the other bowl on a tray you tided it up with a nice hot ginger plum tea and a few napkins, “Tell me how it tastes! I’m gonna run this up to his room.” 
“Don’t you want some?” Yeonjun had already grabbed a spoon, slurping noodles. 
You grimaced, “Honestly the taste of chicken broth makes me wanna vomit, back when I had morning sickness the smell alone had me gagging.” 
“That’s a shame because this is honestly the best soup I’ve ever had- second actually,” Yeonjun smiled at his bowl, “Reminds me of my mom’s when I was sick as a kid.” 
You only smiled at his words before briefly glancing down at your stomach, large and round, you could only hope you’d make the best soup your baby would love one day. 
“Well nothing can beat mom’s soup, hopefully it’ll be second best for Jungkook too.” You laughed a little as you walked past Yeonjun, carefully holding the tray. 
You didn’t know much about Jungkook, truthfully, sure you had talked pre-pregnancy, but it always…you huffed, shaking your head.
This had been happening more frequently, memories of the past would surface and you’d have to shove them back down, the past was the past for a reason. You could only assume they kept coming up because well…
It was Jungkook. 
Knocking on his door you heard a scratchy ‘come in’ before opening the door. 
Jungkook was sat up in bed, looking tired as he typed away on his laptop, eyes dragging towards you before you noticed them brighten just a little. 
His eyes then dropped to the tray before he stiffened, “Why are you carrying that?” 
“I can-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook had already gotten out of bed, swaggering up to you before grabbing the tray. 
“Ask Yeonjun next time.” It was difficult to take his chided words serious when he was rasping this hard, a wince visible on his face as he continued, “If you drop that-” 
“How many times do I have to tell you,” You huffed, “I’m pregnant, not dying.” Your expression softened a little as a small smile tugged on your lips at the sight of his floppy bangs covering his eyes in a sulky manner, “Lay back down, I made you something to sip on. I always loved warm broth when I was younger.” 
Jungkook set the tray on his nightstand as he sat back down at the edge of the bed, staring down at the steaming bowl, his expression nonpulsed for a long moment. 
“You do like soup right?” You shuffled a little nervous at his quietness. 
“Who the fuck doesn’t like soup?” He quipped, “I just…” He glanced away, “You didn’t have to do that…” 
“Of course I did!” You replied immediately, “If I don’t then who will?” 
Jungkook parted his lips before closing them, sighing but not saying anything else as he propped his nightstand up, it extended upwards before turning towards him, he paused before taking a sip, “Well don’t just stand there.” 
You glanced around the room, not much had changed, a few chairs still against the wall, a particular spot open to the wall, opposite to a mirror on the other side of the room hanging. 
“Have you considered redecorating?” You asked as you rounded the bed, choosing to sit beside him on the empty side. 
Groaning you rested your back against the headboard as your hands dropped to your stomach. 
Jungkook shrugged beside you, “Not much reason too. I thought it looked fine.” 
He plopped the spoon in his mouth as his eyes shut. He was never a very expressive person, but there was something about that satisfied look on his face that made you smile.
“It’s alright, it's just…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling as though you weren’t as ready to have this conversation as you thought you were.
“Just what?” Jungkook’s brows furrowed. 
You forced a smile as you shook your head, “Nothing.” 
The same way you last remembered it.
You glanced at the that small open space of the wall between both the chairs, how cold it felt against your back when…
Jungkook could obviously sense the uncomfortable silence, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“The soup.” 
A somewhat hesitant smile tugged on your lips, “Of course. I’m…” Your smile became disheartened as you stood up, “I’m gonna start preparing for bed, you should get some more rest.” 
Jungkook frowned but said nothing, though it looked like he wanted to, he only nodded. 
You left his room feeling your feet drag as you closed your eyes, this feeling was something you were used to when it came to him.
This feeling of always dancing around one another, never talking about the tension in the room, except now it was even more evident then before. 
You’d have to talk about it eventually. 
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I forgot all about my tags last chapter so I apologize!
taglist: @btseverafter7 @scuzmunkie @zae007live @cynicalbitch666 @somehowukook @bartisedrew @princess-sunshyn @jungk-shook-iiee @chickpea-jimin @hoseokteardrop @guk97butterfly @givemethemaknaes16 @bxcndd
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