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cry me a river | the unprepared

— summary: no one is ever prepared to be broken, even if they think they are, and breaking again and again does not make you numb to the pain

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 7.0k

— warnings: slight ptsd trigger

— PART 23 / previous post / masterpost

“Would you be able to send this letter to the address written on it? Personally?”

The girl you saved is named Ester, and without fail, people whose lives have been saved often feel indebted to their savior, so you know it would be right to have a little faith in her when you give her this task.

And as expected, she’s nodding without question and goes on her merry way.

It was the first thing you asked of her after all, because when you told her you had no need for the help she wanted to offer you with the injuries you sustained at the party along with wanting to help you feel comfortable in Alexander’s mansion, you could tell she was immediately angsty and in need of wanting to do anything you asked of her.

Nice girls like her often get taken advantage of.

Well, that’s none of your problem.

You take care of yourself with the treatment Ester provided for you, treating the cuts from where the bullets managed to wheeze past you, and bandaging yourself up before leaving the room provided for you.

Little Kiwi comes barking at your feet before you even reach the grand living room and despite not one to give or show affection, you pick the little thing up albeit reluctantly.

“Kid, isn’t it about time you head to sleep? And don’t lick me again, please, that’s quite rude.”

You hear a gentle chuckle from a familiar deep voice and finally walk into the living room to find both Alexander and Asher already there.

“Dogs don’t necessarily understand rudeness, though he listens to you quite well,” Alexander notes at the obedient puppy in your arms. He doesn’t wiggle around or bark and remains nestled where you hold him. When you take your seat on the sofa with a small space between you and Asher, the old man speaks again. “I heard you refused treatment from my people.”

You clear your throat awkwardly. “Forgive me, I’m not used to foreign touches.”

He knows you don’t mean “foreigners” per se and narrows his gaze slightly, possibly out of curiosity. “You have quite the skills, young lady, for having an unknown name.”

“My name is Y/N,” you tell him, sitting up. “I am a Reaper, the Grim Reaper of South Korea. My father passed away about a year ago, he was a good friend of your son Karl.”

“Karl.” He rubs his chin thinking about it. “So why have you come to Norway? To meet up with Karl?”

“Karl and I have never been that close, sir.” Of course not, you hate that man. Seeing his face alone will make you want to punch him but you know better than that. So keeping yourself calm, you look away to the side where the windows are, covered by pretty rose gold curtains. “I came here because I quite like the way the sun never sets during this time. It brings me peace.”

“You’re on vacation?” He raises a brow, doubtful, and looks toward Asher for confirmation but the man just shrugs without giving him an answer.

“You could say that,” you reply, and the old man clears his throat.

“It takes someone special to dodge all those bullets without managing any fatal injuries,” he returns to the topic of the matter as he leans back into his seat, an ankle propped onto a knee. “My son never mentioned someone like you, or his good friend.”

“The skills I acquired were not from my father, sir.”

“So you had a different master?”

“I was trained by a Yakuza master. He goes by the name Kitagawa Daisuke.”

Kitagawa Daisuke. Anyone who lives in the darkness knows the name. It’s almost like saying Shakespeare and an immediate ding pops into one's head. Your master is that famous in the underground world.

“No wonder..” Alexander looks at you with fascination now, a small crooked smile curling along his lips, eyes brightening. He knows not just anyone can call themself a disciple of Kitagawa Daisuke and it just further proves a point as to how dangerous the mission will be when you finally go up against your master. That is, if time will allow it. Who knows if you’ll even survive this mission.

You’re just dancing around with death at this point and he’s leading the moves.

“Now that you mention it, you have a sort of aura that you exude in the way I’ve seen with Master Kita. You live up to his name, no disciple of his would have let the enemies’ move confuse her.”

He must be talking about how you managed to recognize the motives of the enemies when you realize the focus was not on Alexander himself but his grandson, Asher Larsen. 

You give the man a small glance before looking down at the puppy who’s now slowly dozing off in your lap. You give him a small scratch behind the ear, doting on him a bit. Who would have thought even the enemies knew the life of a dog mattered more to Alexander than his own grandson.

So Asher was right when he said Alexander doesn’t have favorites, which means that if someone does manage to gain his favor, it wouldn’t just be in your favor but you’d have more eyes on your back more than before.

Sounds like a headache.

But it’s the only way you can get rid of Karl. Because if you gain Alexander’s favor, it’ll mean he won’t blink an eye when you tell him you want his own son dead.

“Master told me to always keep my senses heightened no matter the situation.”

He hums at the answer and in a way, you hope this little attention you’ve gained from Alexander is enough to gain a bit of his favor. They say Alexander doesn’t like people who deliberately kiss up someone’s shoes to get to where they want. He’s probably had enough of those people. He also likes people who have a backbone and knows how to protect themselves.

“How would you like to be my new caretaker for Kiwi?” The proposal Alexander gives has your head perked up his way, feeling a bit dumbfounded and surprised, but he continues before you can reject or accept the offer. “You’re here on vacation, aren’t you? I’m sure Kiwi would love to continue seeing you until it’s time for you to return home.”

Perhaps he knows a bit of your plan. Perhaps he doesn’t. Either way, he’s giving you a great opportunity to remain seen by his side.

“I know it may sound a lot asking a mafia boss but I quite like you, Miss Y/N.”

“No, it’s quite alright,” you shake your head lightly and look down at the now sleeping puppy in your lap before giving Alexander the answer. “I’d gladly accept.”

He smiles, satisfied, and when he leaves after taking the sleeping puppy from you, you’re left alone with Asher who had been silent the whole exchange between you and Alexander.

“I’m impressed, that was quite the feat. No one’s ever gotten this far this fast.” When you look at the man who’s finally speaking up, there’s a small curl up his lips when he looks your way, and you guess this man is usually stoic for the most part. How great you’re earning a bit of favor from both the grandfather and the grandson.

“I guess it’s just in my nature to have people join my side.” You give him a simple reply, one he does not refute, and the day ends with that.

You don’t get a wink of sleep at all staying there in that mansion and you know it’s because you’re in an unfamiliar place. You’ve never been good at adapting to something new. It took some time for you to settle into the Bangtan manor when you first moved there years ago, but unlike how it was there and back at your own manor, Alexander’s mansion gives you some sort of comfort you’ve never had before.

It’s probably the fact that night never comes. Your room has windows placed at a good spot, where the sun seems to shine through even though there are clouds blocking part of it. It isn’t as bright as it was when you first arrived at the airport but when it still lights up the sky around three am, you’re grateful for being here, in Norway.

Norway is pretty in a way Korea has never been and being here, despite the mission you’re on, gives you a sense of peace and calmness Korea has never given you. It’s a foreign country and yet something about it, something about the sun not being allowed to set and give way to the stars and moon, to the darkness, you have the urge to stay here if you could. Forever if possible.

But peace can never truly stay forever as long as you live this life.

You have people to go after, a revenge plot you’re on. Maybe when everything is over, if you manage to survive in the end and meet your last victim without dying, maybe then you can return here.

But first comes earning Alexander’s favor.

“You’re going to be in charge of taking care of his dog?” Hoseok’s face is a bit comical when you relay them the news once morning comes and you arrive back at the place Namjoon has provided for you. “Just what do you know about taking care of dogs?”

“Not much,” you admit as you scroll through your phone in hopes of learning, “but Alexander’s given me a bit of trust so I might as well take the opportunity. Ah, speaking of,” you put your phone down for a second, looking between the two Bangtan men, “don’t the two of you have some experience in taking care of dogs? You’ll teach me, then.”

It’s a request that comes out of nowhere, especially after just dropping the bomb on them, but it’s not like there’s anything else they can really do.

Namjoon sent them here in support for you and despite the awkward air around each of you, you’re one to ignore all signs and pretend everything is and has always been alright.

“Well an important part of a dog’s routine is taking walks,” Jungkook speaks up after being quiet for a while. His brows are slightly furrowed, thinking. “Mr. Larsen has actually given you quite the task.”

He’s right.

Taking a dog out on walks means being out in the open air where enemy eyes are everywhere. If last night proves that Kiwi serves more purpose to Alexander than his own grandson — and the enemies know that — then being the dog sitter isn’t just any mere maid’s job.

They have to be smart, agile, quick, and strong because they’re looking after what equals an heir.

You’re basically Kiwi’s bodyguard.

“Maybe this is his way of testing me.” It has to be. He couldn’t just have trusted a random stranger to take care of something that clearly means a lot to him. Though that begs the question as to why.

Is it because you mentioned Kitagawa as your master? He’s quite well known after all, and well respected at that.

Still, something’s a little weird.

But if you’re trying to get close to the old man, you might as well take advantage of this while not forgetting to remain cautious.

No one can ever be trusted fully. There is always an ulterior motive behind one’s action.

“I have a question, sir.” When you return to the manor a little later that day, the first person you go to is Alexander, who easily allows you into his proximity just minutes after you asked for his time. You thought initially it’d be a while until you get your reply, after all, he’s a Godfather who’s probably busy with all sorts of things, which is why it’s surprising the reply came so soon and was received well.

His butler didn’t lead you to an office, rather, you found yourself walking into a pretty greenhouse that sort of reminds you of the one back at home.

It’s massive in size though, that’s a difference, but you can clearly tell it’s being taken care of well in the way your Reapers takes care of your greenhouse.

“One moment, Miss Y/N.”

Alexander has his back turned to you when you find him towards a corner, with a water can in hand as he personally feeds the plants the amount of water needed with a serene expression on his face.

Kiwi, who had followed you when you were led by the butler, walks over to respectfully nuzzle against his master’s foot.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” The old man comments with a smile once he’s done watering the plants and places the can back in its place.

“It’s a surprise you’re able to keep them alive here,” you utter as you take another look around at the greens all around you. “I have one back in Korea, though my Reapers take care of them.”

Alexander takes a seat on a bench and Kiwi jumps over to lay on his lap. “Taking care of things personally brings me peace.”

“...Does it, now?” In a world where things are always chaotic, you suppose having somewhere to go to for peace is ideal. “I don’t have a greenhouse for personal taste though.”

“Do you grow poison?” He asks and there’s really no use lying.

“Amongst other things.”

He falls silent for a moment, a serene silence, and it’s strange the way he looks at you in a way no one’s ever done before. You’ve seen creepy old men before, met a couple of them personally against your will, but Alexander doesn’t remind you much of them. He stands out further, but in a way that isn’t bad at all and for some reason that brings you another sort of uncomfortable feeling you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. 

It’s strange and foreign, and perhaps he understands the effect he’s made on you because he lets out a light chuckle.

“I used to be just like you, little one.”

Your brows furrow at his words, confused. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir.”

“Always in a rush, never stopping to revel in the scenery.”

Because there’s no time for that. Time doesn’t wait for anyone and the enemies certainly don't. You’ve finally gained some sort of peace after your father’s death but even then, letting yourself go in order to be free from the chains isn’t exactly as easy as one may think.

You’re rushing because you want to reach peace, because you want a moment in time when things finally slows down and you’re okay with it, with the clocks existing, with the time ticking.

Peace doesn’t come to just anyone willingly.

“You’re anxious,” Alexander notes and perhaps you’re uncomfortable because he sees through a part of you that only people you allow in sees.

This is why you hate old people.

They can tell so easily because they’ve been through things.

“If I let time catch up on me, there will be nothing left in front of me.”

“Is that what you believe?” He asks, a hand running through Kiwi’s fur as the little dog begins to fall asleep. “What if what you want is already in front of you? Perhaps you just don’t want to face it because you’re afraid.”

Afraid?

Afraid of what?

But maybe he’s right. Maybe you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“You’re running away.”

Yes.

This man certainly does make you uncomfortable.

Not like the creeps, not like Leehyun, but not like Mister Butler either. Though in a way, there’s something familiar that you sense in him in the way you’ve felt with Mister Butler. As if he has a window to see through your soul.

But you’re sure not all old people know everything. They can only guess from what they’ve been given and seen.

You decide to keep your guard up.

“The question you wanted to ask,” perhaps he felt you trying to run from him so he changes the subject, “What was it?”

Right.

“When I take Kiwi out on walks, I’m sure you realize there may be people out there who will take advantage of those times. I don’t know the streets well and I don’t know who means well and who wants Kiwi dead. So I wanted to ask; the people that decide to come after me during Kiwi’s walk time, do you want them dead or alive when I bring them to you?”

So blunt and straight to the point, Alexander chuckles at that, amused.

“I’m sure a disciple of Master Kita will come to understand who poses a threat and who doesn't. I don’t care about the lives of those who want my little puppy dead. It doesn’t matter who they are, if they come after him, kill them. After all,” his eyes are gentle when he looks down at the puppy, though there’s a glint of danger that flashes in the light of his eyes, “only people with evil hearts will want to hurt an innocent puppy.”

Evil hearts. What a strange way to put it that way.

You get too curious not to ask; “Do you believe we aren’t evil? A little kid might subject us to the same category as them. We all kill after all. It doesn’t matter what, it doesn’t matter who. Killers are all evil in the eyes of some.”

He doesn’t think much on it when he answers your question. “In my eyes, many of us, like you and I, kill only for survival.” You and I, he says. “If an apocalypse were to happen, you’d kill a zombie for survival, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t just it bite you and you certainly wouldn’t let them bite someone you care for. You’d kill them. For survival.”

He looks up, eyes as clear as day. “This business we’re in…we’re in the same boat.”

Killing to survive.

Killing because there is no other choice.

You don’t think you’ve ever met a man like him who seems so sentimental on life as if a part of him is satisfied with what he’s gone through but he also holds some regret, things he knows beyond you, years he’s lived more than you, and has gained wisdom from all the experience.

No one from this business has ever looked in the same lens as he does on life and you hate it.

You hate how it makes you feel.

So you drop the subject and leave the greenhouse, feeling that creepy sense of goosebumps on your body as you go.

When Kiwi wakes from his nap a little after, he comes to find you and you take him out on the walk you promised him before that meeting with Alexander.

The walk is nice, the scenery different from that of Seoul, and the breath of fresh air it allows you to intake with a piece of mind helps you remain calm and collected. Kiwi walks beside you without a leash, his little feet taking you down the paths as if he’s done this a thousand times before, with his little nose curious at every little thing around him.

He doesn’t ever stray away and you guess perhaps even the little one understands the dangers of what it means to be himself. In all honesty, you prefer cats over dogs but you have to admit this isn’t so bad — well, being in Norway helps, you guess.

In Seoul, the streets wouldn’t forgive you for taking a walk so carefreely like this.

But of course, Norway has its own dangers. You are taking care of a prominent figure of a powerful mafia after all.

For the most part, you had been following Kiwi and letting him guide you where his nose leads him, but when the two of you come towards a lake where lies a bridge at the center, the little puppy suddenly stops in his tracks, sniffs the air, before retracing back to you.

Your brows furrow slightly when he steps up to your feet, hiding in between them, and when you hear a small noise out of the ordinary and look up with a calm gaze at the sudden new presence that has now surround the both of you, an exasperated sigh leaves you.

So much for peace and quiet.

“Hey lady, what’re you doing with that dog?” A man asks in Norwegian.

“Dog sitting,” you reply in English.

They look amongst one another, confusion plastered on their faces probably because they’ve never seen you around before and when Kiwi grinds his teeth and growls lowly at them, you put a foot closer to him, trying to ease the little puppy.

“What happened to the old sitter? Dead?” He speaks up again, a brow raised your way. Perhaps he’s testing your ability to understand him so when he speaks in his language, you continue replying in English with perfect understanding of one another.

“Not dead. I’m just a temporary sitter.”

“And who are you? I’ve never seen you around Alexander before.”

“Just a common girl.” You take a small step back seeing the way he reaches for something in his pockets.

“You should know that the streets are dangerous.”

A little chuckle leaves you. “I wouldn’t be trusted with Alexander’s dog if I didn’t know that, now would I? Still, that’s a very bad idea,” you beckon at the gun he pulls out. “You wouldn’t want to do that.”

The corner of his lip curls upwards as he brings his gun forward to his face, playing with it just as his friends start to close in on you. “And why not? Are you afraid, little common girl?”

“Afraid?” You tilt your head back, laughing. “No, no, it’s not me who should be afraid.” He sends you a furrow in his brows at the way you look so relaxed and so you go on. “Alexander has already given me permission to eliminate anyone who poses a threat, which means I don’t have to go easy on you or spare your lives.”

“Really?” He scoffs, taunting you. “One against seven, you really think a little girl like you can take us?”

“Oh no, I’m not talking about me, though you’d be surprised I can totally take you.”

“What?”

“You should learn to heighten your senses, old man, maybe then you’d realize we aren’t the only ones here.” With that signal, someone from the group has their neck slashed from behind and another one gets shot right in the head. 

One by one, they fall as you calmly pick up the scared little dog and stroke along his head to calm him down. He leans into your touch as the two of you ignore what’s happening around you, and once he finally seems alright again, you turn back to where Jungkook and Hoseok are standing, the enemies all dead on the ground.

You take one glance down at the dead bodies before checking the time on your watch. “I’ll inform Alexander and have his people clean this up,” you say as you reach for your phone. “Meanwhile, would one of you like to accompany me back to his mansion? Take on the role Taehyung took back at London?”

Jungkook comes along while Hoseok stays back and the walk back for the most part lies in silence.

Drama only occurs once you return to the mansion, hearing the sound of a familiar voice you haven’t heard in some time now. He shouts angrily you hear it through the halls and when you walk into the living room, you find Karl Larsen with three of his men behind him, reprimanding poor little Ester with Asher standing off to the side, looking bored and exasperated of his uncle.

No one stops him.

“Are you that incompetent? Just how useless are you that my father has to choose a stranger to take over your job? I told you to keep an eye on that mutt and you can’t even do that?”

Huh. Who would have thought Ester was actually Karl’s servant who had been assigned to look over Kiwi before you came in to take over temporarily? Though from the looks of it, when she cowers in fear under his demands, her head lowered, eyes tightly shut, shoulders trembling slightly, she doesn’t like this man so much.

Who does after all?

But she did look a lot more carefree living in this manor, looking after Kiwi under Alexander’s commands. Alexander isn’t known to bring just anyone in to work for him, which means Ester managed to gain his trust. He’s good at knowing who to trust, he wouldn’t just be easily swayed by his own blood’s opinions, so if given the chance, you believe that Ester wouldn’t hesitate to betray Karl.

She’s a sweet girl, you don’t doubt that.

Asher on the other hand, you aren’t too sure if a man like him deserves the benefit of the doubt.

He senses your presence though, unlike Karl and his men, and when he looks up to meet your eyes from the entryway of the living room, he stands up a little more straight, a small curl turning upwards upon the corner of his lips.

Maybe he’s just bored with petty family affairs and has no say in what his uncle wants or does. Family positions are important in the mafia after all.

“Where is she? The new girl?” Karl’s voice snaps back, his eyes bulging and you step towards them despite Jungkook’s caution, knowing the signs of that man. “Bring her to me now, you useless—”

His hand raises in the air and before it can come down at the young girl’s head, you grab his wrist mid-air with your left hand, stopping him successfully. “If you’re really that upset about the change, why don’t you bring it up to your father, spoiled old man?”

His brows furrow tightly when he looks your way initially, before his expression begins to cool and soften when he realizes just who it is that dared to stop him from punishing his subordinate. The strength of his arm weakens and he brings it back to his side, fixing the cuff of his suit, while a smirk plays on his lips as he keeps his gaze on you.

“Y/N,” the way he says your name makes you want to vomit and though for a second looking at that familiar, disgusting smirk on his face causes your mind to want to resurface the memories of all the things he’s done, you keep them back in, focusing on other things to not trigger it. “Look at you, you’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you. What are you doing here in Norway? Came to pay me a visit?”

He doesn’t know what happened to your father, you realize through those words, which is a bit surprising because of how close the two of them were, but then again, after the wipe of your father and his people, it kind of makes sense Karl never got word of your father’s death.

Both Asher and Jungkook are confused about the way Karl is acting so friendly and close to you, as well as the way he just naturally turns his attention from being angry at Ester to invite you to take a seat.

You follow him and settle Kiwi in your lap and see the way he glances at the puppy, a slight bitterness contouring his features before it disappears all too quickly.

He doesn’t like Kiwi, that much is clear, and with the way he addresses you, you can tell this man still thinks you of the naive little girl who would submit to just anyone without fighting back.

“Your words are a lot sharper than they used to be,” he notes, remembering the way you spoke to him. “Seems you’re finally growing into the woman that your father trained you to be.”

With a hand stroking the fur of Kiwi’s, you take a look at his three men. One of them is someone you recognize, the other two are completely new faces.

“Tell me then, how have you been since I left Seoul?”

One year, he came and left — not even one year but a summer, four months — and that was all it took for him to do all the things he’d done.

“I have news to give you, sir,” you say and he tsks at you.

“Come on now, call me what you used to call me. We were close, weren’t we? Don’t treat me like a stranger now, Y/N.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and you bite your tongue back, resisting the urge to run from his touch. So with a tight grin, you give him the news he’s been needing to catch up on. “I am the Grim Reaper now..uncle.”

That amused expression on his face falls slightly, masked with surprise and confusion, and he takes one look at Jungkook who stands guard behind you, before returning his gaze back on you, flabbergasted.

“Your father’s dead?” He breathes, not believing it. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? How’d he die?”

Telling him the truth now would lead to an outburst from him and you can’t have Jungkook seeing that. Karl is a madman and if he knows of the truth here before strangers outside his and your people, he will definitely forget about the way your true relationship with your father is supposed to be kept a secret from the public.

“I apologize, uncle, preparations for his funeral and my succession took longer than expected.” Jungkook knows those words aren’t true but thankfully he knows to keep quiet.

“I could have helped,” Karl insists and you give him a pressed smile.

It’s strange the way he can’t comprehend just why the daughter of his friend whom he’s hurt many times did not want him involved in her family affairs, but you guess the minds of psychopaths are just like that. They can understand human emotions but they cannot feel them, and so they cannot emphasize with others.

“Do you not remember all the things you’ve done to me?” You want to ask him. “Do you not recall what you and father had done? Why would I want your help?” But you bite your tongue back just as Kiwi stirs from your touch, probably sensing a change in you.

The more you face the people who have done you wrong, the harder it is to keep the facade, you realize. Namjoon once said to stop before it all breaks you and you told him broken things cannot be broken even more but perhaps they can.

They can.

You’ve reached your breaking point before, not just once or twice, and yet it seems the world has just proven to you that glass can keep shattering and shattering until there is nothing left but dust.

Are you prepared to turn into dust?

You are. You’ve said it before.

“A broken glass can never mend itself to the way it used to be, the only thing it can do is break even more.”

You were prepared, your body was, but is your mind prepared? Will your mind ever be prepared?

No one is ever prepared to be broken, even if they think they are, and breaking again and again does not make you numb to the pain.

Kiwi whimpers on your lap, his head nuzzling into the palm of your hand when you stop stroking him. They say that dogs can smell human emotions and in turn, adopt them as their own, and hearing the distress whimpers, you try to return to Karl and give him a reply and yet nothing happens. You can’t even open your mouth to speak. You feel frozen on the spot.

Why now? Why now, whynow, whynow,whynowwhynow?

Footsteps are heard upon the silence of the room. “What’s making my Kiwi sound like that?” A low rumble demands an answer but you remain still, unable to move.

You feel paralyzed.

Kiwi looks up at his master’s voice for a second before going back to nuzzle against you and lend you his warmth, and while the people in the room stand up straight at his presence, Karl even going up to greet his father, you remain planted on the sofa.

Alexander ignores Karl to walk over to where his puppy is. He takes a glance your way, with Asher confused and Jungkook concerned and a little panicked because of the state you’re in, but rather than making this a big deal and reprimanding you for causing his puppy to sound the way he does, Alexander instead remains calm.

“Come here, Kiwi,” he calls, and though the pup hesitates at first, looking between you and his master, he eventually jumps up and into Alexander’s arms. “Karl, I’ll deal with you later. Right now I’m too busy to entertain guests.”

Though Karl looks like he wants to protest at first, he nods in reply, knowing he cannot talk back to his father. You were hoping he’d just leave it at that and go ahead with his men but for some reason, he just has to turn to you.

“My deepest condolences, Y/N. Let’s have tea to catch up next time, yeah?” Unable to grasp the situation, he reaches out to place a hand on your cheek, a smile on his face, before he arches his back straight again to bid Alexander goodbye.

In that moment, you stand, though it’s only because staying on that couch feels disgusting now having to sit still and do nothing when he reached out to touch you. You hate the touch, it burns you, but you remain silent when you stand a little behind Alexander, nodding Karl goodbye, and only once he leaves does the room feel a little easier to breathe in.

Just a little.

.

.

.

“Should I call Mingyu?” Jungkook asks when you return to the room Alexander prepared for you that first night you met him. He watches you with keen eyes and observance as you walk further into the room, away from the door, eyes still refusing to look anyone in the eyes, silent with a blank expression. “Or..should I leave the room?”

You don’t give him an answer but you’re thinking.

How far is it from here to the manor Namjoon prepared for you? A couple of minutes away by vehicle, which means it wouldn’t be that difficult for him to come here. But him coming here would mean a hassle because then you’d have to let the people here know that Mingyu’s one of yours and you don’t feel like interacting with anyone right now. A letter in your handwriting wouldn’t suffice either because they don’t know your handwriting.

You could honestly call Ester and describe Mingyu’s face to tell her he’s with you but that would mean interacting.

Jungkook could leave the room and yet the thought of him leaving gives a small dread in the pits of your stomach because you hate being alone and left in an unfamiliar place and right now he’s the only thing that’s familiar to you.

Familiar.

How funny that this familiar person left you to fend for yourself and gave you his cold shoulders when you needed him most.

And yet there’s no other choice.

So just like back in London when you familiarized yourself with Seokjin’s warmth and kindness for that split second, you turn around to face Jungkook.

He stands far from you, having not moved from the door since the two of you walked in, and a part of you hates that despite what he’s done to you, you know Jungkook is a man with natural kindness and would never do anything that would harm you on purpose. You see it in the way he keeps his distance, in the two questions he asked, how he doesn’t try to approach you, that unlike Karl who doesn’t know how to take a hint, he understands your fear of being touched by men even though you did allow Yoongi to hold you and poked Seokjin slightly on the shoulder.

He respects your boundaries. He always had, he always did.

So why did it have to end with him giving you the cold shoulders and pretending he hated you? Why did things have to turn out the way it did?

You’re so tired. Tired of everything.

“Come here,” you call for him, and you hate how even when you give him permission to come close, he still hesitates, concerned for the state of your mind.

When he approaches, his steps are slow, and once he’s inches away from you, you hold out the palm of your hand.

“I want you to help me with something,” you say, “you don’t have to do much, just..stay still and…and give me your hand.”

His brows are knitted, eyes staring down at your palm as if this isn’t a good idea. “I’m sorry,” he tells you, feeling conflicted. “Hoseok should have been here, we should have switched places. He would’ve been a better choice in—”

“I know Hoseok would have been the better choice but we can’t turn back time now can we?!” Your patience is starting to wear thin and when he flinches a little at the way you raise your voice, your own eyes widen at what you’d just done. Shocked at how easy it was to lose control, and when you begin to spiral out of fear for raising your voice at him, you put your hands in your hair, trembling.

“I’m sorry, please just…just help me, Jungkook. You have to replace what he did. I hate it, I hate his touch, and right now I’d rather feel your touch than his so please…please?” You look up at him, not caring that you’re pleading and looking desperate.

When he sees it, sees the way your eyes gloss over with a glaze of water, at your panicked tone and your begging for his help, he gives you his hand.

You take it and press his palm onto your cheek, over that burning feeling from where Karl touched you, and the peace that you yearned for doesn’t come right away. You struggle for a bit and your legs almost give in from the weakness but Jungkook’s right there to hold you up and bring you over to the bed so that you don’t have to rely on your legs. 

He remains standing before you, watching as you rest your eyes while keeping his hand pressed to your skin.

It takes some time for the storm to wash away and for the calm to walk over but it comes, eventually, and when it does come, it isn’t in the way it is with Mingyu. Jungkook doesn’t give you the sort of calm that your second in command gives you, though you expected it because no one can replace Mingyu’s warmth.

The sort of calm Jungkook gives you follows with pain and grief over what had been lost all those years ago.

His warmth, his presence, his puppy-like self following you around, willing to do anything and everything for you. He’d always been such a quiet man who follows the rules well, who does everything with great effort, who is sometimes too naive and gets roped up in Jimin’s antics and gets scolded for things he didn’t do.

Always there to lend you his jacket when you shivered in the slightest way, always there to protect you from anyone that bothered you, noticing the smallest things, and though you relied on him for a lot of things, he relied on you in turn as well.

You understood him in ways the others couldn’t, the two of you in love like those two innocent little kids who were finding out what it meant to love someone for the first time. Soft and gentle, a bit awkward and clumsy.

“They didn’t have the drink that you like but I got you…” He walks back with a hand holding onto a glass of something for you to drink, but in the middle of his sentence, Jungkook’s expression falls. “...Something happened.”

Immediately, he’s shifting his head around to try and find who it was that approached you tonight but before he can get too far, you’re grabbing ahold of his arm and pulling his attention back on you. 

“It…nothing happened,” you insist with a bit of panic on your expression, afraid of what Jungkook might do out in public like this, all the while trying to see if you can catch of glimpse of Namjoon anywhere on the floor. Thankfully he isn’t around, otherwise he’d be able to also tell something was wrong with one look your way.

There are days when hiding your emotions are easy and there are other days when it’s a little more difficult. Like on the days when people make you uncomfortable and you just can’t seem to hide it well. Those days are hard.

And Jungkook, who looks back at you, clearly doesn’t buy your little protest. “Y/N, I need you to just point out—”

“Please.” You squeeze his biceps, holding yourself close to him, pleading with your eyes as you look up at him, and Jungkook immediately recognizes just what those eyes are trying to tell him;

‘Don’t leave me alone.’

You’re frightened, he realizes, and after a small look around the room to check his surrounding, he brings you in close to him and keeps you by his side as he takes your hand and brings you around to an empty space where the two of you can be left alone together.

“Is there anything you need?” Is the first thing he asks you as he sits you down on a seat in the empty room, but you simply shake your head and squeeze his hand tight.

“Just you,” you say in a quiet voice, and Jungkook stays with you that night without ever leaving your side, all the while you simply hold onto the touch of his hand, the feel of it a comfort unlike any other.

His touch reminds you of those memories, of the past and the tears and the smiles, and though you hate the pain that it resurfaces, you’d rather revel in this pain than the pain of remembering the memories with Karl.

💜💜💜

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 1

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Keep reading

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The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 2

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Keep reading

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The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 3

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Keep reading

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The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 4

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Keep reading

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The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 5

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter warning: Incident of stalking and the topic/ threat of potential suicide is brought up.

Keep reading

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The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 6

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Keep reading

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The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 7

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Keep reading

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cry me a river | the habits

— summary: you are a weapon and weapons do not weep

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 6.4k

— warnings: physical abuse, violence, mentally unstable mindset

— PART 25 / previous post / masterpost

One.

Two.

Three.

The seconds will pass. The minutes will fly. The hours will go.

You’re alright.

Endure it. Endure it.

It will pass.

Everything will pass just as everything has always passed.

In time, father will raise his hand to indicate them to stop. A stop signal. He may leave the room out of boredom but he will return just as he always does in order to demand them to leave you alone. He will never be satisfied but there is always a limit to everything and father sometimes gets too bored to keep seeing it, to keep hearing it, so he’s always there to stop it.

Eventually.

Eventually.

You just have to endure it for now until the signal comes, until—

“What are you doing?!”

You didn’t realize it and perhaps that’s because you blacked out, your mind keeping you from feeling it all completely, trying to protect you, but you’re sitting on the ground when a call demands out an answer in a loud, commanding voice, and a rushing of a pair of feet running over to push Karl off you.

Asher punches Karl right in the face, throwing him off you, before demanding the guards he has with him to hold the man back.

“She provoked me!” Karl argues like a child in a kid’s play.

He’s never been abruptly stopped before. Always angry, never satisfied.

Nothing is ever enough when it comes to the two of them. 

Karl landing hurt through his fists and weapons and anything he can get a hand on. Your father landing hurt through his commands, watching and watching and watching.

And you, their victim, who has to stay down and accept it all until there is a small amount of satisfaction that calls at them to stop.

You always wait on that call, no matter how much endurance it takes.

“That doesn’t make it right to lay your hand on a woman!” Asher retorts with anger laced in his tone, and this anger, despite how different it is from that of Karl’s, still shakes you violently though you keep as still as ever, paralyzed.

Paralyzed.

Even when the anger does not fall on you, even when he does not turn to you but towards the companion who stands behind you, who had stood still this whole time. “And what are you doing? Your boss was getting hit and you just stood there?”

Yeonjun, with a snap on cue, kneels over to your side and looks down at you with widened eyes and a frozen expression. He doesn’t touch you right away, cautious, but you see what those eyes mean, you know exactly what that expression is telling you.

That he, too, had reverted back to the past.

When your father still lived, when he had to stand by and watch everything without moving a muscle.

He reverted back just as you had.

Two little kids, who're still affected by the traumas of the past.

Two little kids.

You take Yeonjun’s hand, giving him the permission to touch you, so he helps you back onto your feet and the two of you remain in silence as you walk off with his help, not daring to look Karl in the eyes, not caring to reply to Asher.

But you feel yourself trembling with the presence of a pair of eyes boring right into your back. Not from Asher or Karl or the two guards but from someone else.

The ghost of him.

Of that man.

That man named father.

.

.

.

“Y/N?” There’s concern in Jungkook’s voice when you walk into the room and you guess that’s probably because of the state you’re in, but right now you can’t entertain him so you simply hold a hand up, asking him to stay back, and Jungkook, though worried, leaves the room on your behalf.

When you’re left alone with Yeonjun, you let your legs give in to sit on the floor rather than finding a chair or taking a seat on the bed.

The floor is comfortable. It’s always been more comfortable.

The boy takes your heels off, along with your jacket, and despite the sting of the pain that aches over your body, the only thing on your mind is the fact that you let it happen so easily, that you allowed yourself to walk back into that state of being an obedient and perfect little doll.

You reverted back to the damages just when you thought after father’s death, you wouldn’t let anyone walk over you anymore.

But it isn’t easy.

It isn’t easy.

And it will never be easy.

Father still lives in your head rent free and there’s nothing you can do about it. No matter how much time has passed, nothing will change. It’s already been a little over a year since his death but he’s still here, still thriving, mocking you, taunting you, controlling everything that you are.

You’re shaking, trembling, not just out of fear but out of anger. Angry at yourself. For being so weak, for reverting back, for thinking things could get better.

And with Yeonjun the only one here with you at the moment, you lean into his touch and let yourself into his arms to allow the sort of warmth only your Reapers can provide you.

Yeonjun’s heartbeat won’t be the same as Mingyu’s, it’s probably even beating rapidly right now, so you don’t let your ear rest against his chest and instead wrap your arms over his neck and climb into his lap to lay your cheek against his shoulder.

Yeonjun brings his hand over to rub down your back but he’s a little awkward and unsure because he’s never really had to do this; comforting you. It’s always been Mingyu, and if Mingyu wasn’t there, it’d be Yuna, and if Yuna couldn’t do it, it’d be Dasom, or someone else.

Anyone else.

He’s only a kid after all, just eighteen years old, the youngest of your Reapers, but because no one else is here, he does his best to pick up the role that’s been given unto him.

Yet you feel him tremble slightly himself and you guess that in some way, he must be afraid as well.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to you. “I didn’t…I…”

You know what he’s trying to say, that he failed you, that he couldn’t protect you. But can you really blame him? Because just as you’ve been trained to endure through the pains and take everything that’s given unto you, Yeonjun, the Reapers, were trained to stand by and watch.

Habits are scary.

Frightening.

And because you don’t know how to console him and he doesn’t know how to console you, the two of you remain in silence simply holding onto one another.

Just two little kids having to rely on each other.

Just two little kids.

And after a little while, when things have settled a little more, when he starts shaking a little less, Yeonjun gathers himself and forces himself out of the state he’s in.

He stands up and you watch him leave for a second, not too long, because he rushes, and returns with materials in hand to begin tending to you. It remains as quiet as ever between the two of you, but you see the way his brows furrow in concentration and he stops himself from staying in the mindset of a teenager.

Of a child.

He becomes an adult, a reliable adult. For you. Applying what’s needed on the bruises that have swelled up, wrapping your arm with bandages, and when you frown with disgust at the sight of the white wrapping on you, wanting it off, complaining, he doesn’t fall into your trap and stands his ground just as he’s seen Mingyu do plenty of times.

Yeonjun gets frightened of you at times but he always listens to your every command and does all that you ask him within a heartbeat, but today he grows a pair of wings and knocks you lightly on the head with his knuckles when you try to push him away, when you get stubborn with him.

“Do you want to die?” You glare at him but he doesn’t give in.

“You can kill me after I treat you,” he says and continues his ministrations.

“I hate it,” you tell him. “I don’t like it, this…this white.” You try to scratch at yourself but he grabs your hand before you can and your face scrunches up with anguish. “Get it off me.” 

You tug the pearls on your neck and it scatters onto the floor but you don’t care and move on to the white dress, yet Yeonjun stops you once more.

“You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I’m not weak.”

“I never said you were.” And because he knows the signs, because he’s seen it plenty of times in you, he grabs the sleeve, rips it, then the hem of the dress, and tears that as well without doing too much. “See? Look. Imperfect.” You hate perfect things and seeing that, the tears of the dress, alleviate a bit of your drumming heartbeat, so Yeonjun grabs a pair of scissors to start cutting off bits of your dress.

All your life you’ve been told to be perfect, that everything you do must be under the command of your father. He made you into his perfect little doll, his perfect little weapon, prepared you for the battlefield, prepared you for war.

For the war that he brought, for the war that was his.

Or rather, he was the war itself.

You are a weapon, and weapons do not weep. Weapons are used and weapons do not run off on their own. Weapons are perfect, they fire at the command of their owner, they’re silent when told, and left to waste if they do not do their job.

You’ve never wanted to be left to waste, you’ve never wanted to be dropped back into an empty room, the White Room, and never picked up again.

“I look broken,” you utter a whisper as if shocked at the image of yourself when you look down at the mess of your dress and the white bandages on your body. Your brows are knitted, teeth grinding on each other, fingers dug into the skin of your palm, eyes red but as always, they refuse to cry.

Because weapons do not weep.

And Yeonjun, for a second, almost panics, thinking he did something wrong, but in Mingyu’s wise words, “Just because it looks like I know what I’m doing when it comes to boss does not mean that is the truth. It is far from the truth. There are times when it feels like I’ve messed up, times when I’m about to panic because she responds differently from what I imagined, but you cannot ever show her that you do not know what you’re doing. Ever. Just pretend when you’re in that position, and if you’re good at pretending, she won’t know a thing,” Yeonjun quickly pulls himself back up.

“You don’t look broken,” he puts the scissors down and takes your two trembling fists. “You look imperfect.”

You look imperfect.

Imperfect.

It does the trick.

He sees the way the crease between your brows starts to soften, how your clenched jaw loosens, the way you let him help your fingers unravel from the strength they held digging into yourself, and how your shoulders fall a bit from being so hunched up.

“I look imperfect?” You ask him, eyes wide and puppy-like, darting right to him and though they shake slightly, they look towards him for an answer, for reassurance, to detect any lie, to seek for the truth. But also pleading, also begging for him to say just that.

Even if the lie must disguise itself as the truth.

“You do,” so Yeonjun lies skillfully. “You look imperfect, boss.”

There’s a breath of relief, quiet and subtle, and it comes in a whisper just barely there. Yeonjun keeps you close and presses a palm to your chest, just where your heartbeat strums.

“Now count,” he tells you. “Mingyu says counting is good, right? Count until he gets here.”

“Is he coming?” You ask when he takes both your hands to take over where his palm once lay.

“Yes,” he lies again. He hasn’t made the call yet. “Soon.”

“You have to stay here.”

“I will.”

“No one can come in.”

“I know.”

“Don’t talk to him, don’t let Karl anywhere near me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m tired.”

“Alright, come here.” He pulls you in carefully into his lap, in his arms, and you let yourself be warmed and comforted in his arms once more, this time with your back pressed to his chest.

“I don’t want to sleep,” you tell him. “The nightmares…they’ll come. He’ll come. He’ll visit. And he’ll try to make me perfect all over again.”

He. Your father.

“I don’t want to be perfect.” It isn’t a command, it’s a plea. A desperate cry for help.

“Then don’t sleep. But count the heartbeats, yeah? Count.” The soft lure of his voice, gentle, encouraging.

With hands still pressed against your chest, you let your ear tune out everything else in order to hear the beat of your heart so that you can start counting them.

One. Two. Three…

It’s fast and you know that you can’t completely count every individual one of them but you try your best to simply concentrate on only that while your eyes stare out at the window a few feet away. The sun shines brightly from the opened curtains and there’s a small little bird perched on the closest tree.

It jumps onto a branch and rests there with its head moving about in different directions.

There are pretty white clouds up above and one of the bigger ones shapes like a castle and you imagine fairies up there, hiding.

There’s another cloud that looks like a cat and another one shaped like a ghost.

The wind blows and your eyes turn back to the bird that flies off.

Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five…

It’s slowing down, just slightly.

.

.

.

“I heard what happened this afternoon.”

Kiwi keeps you distracted as he nibbles with your finger. You can’t recall when he’s decided to hang around you rather than his own master whenever you’re around but at least it gives you a reason to not look someone in the eyes.

“Would you like to tell me what happened from your perspective?”

Thirty-something years old. You can’t even remember just how old you are but lately, it hasn’t mattered in the slightest because you feel much younger than what you actually are. Like you’re twenty-something. Even a teen. It doesn’t feel like you’ve aged much.

Your birthday hasn’t been celebrated since your time at the Bangtan manor but it doesn’t really matter. Nothing really matters.

Because you feel like a kid back under the control of your father, having to do what you’re told, obeying his every command like someone who can’t do anything on her own.

Under scrutiny.

“What did Karl tell you?” You pop a question of your own, eyes still unfocused, mind still trying to pretend you’re fine, that you’re okay in a room full of strangers.

There’s only one stranger but a stranger nonetheless.

“He said you provoked him.”

“That’s right.” You don’t deny it and instead nod, expression blank so that Alexander cannot tell what’s going on inside your head. And maybe he does, maybe all of this faking is futile because he’s so wise, but you don’t care. You keep still, you keep vague, and you remain cold.

“Is that so…?” He trails off, perhaps thinking, and you can feel his eyes never leaving you. “And what was it that you did to have provoked him?”

“I told him something he didn’t like.”

“And what’s that?”

“That I killed his best friend.”

“And did you?”

“I did.”

“And who was that?”

“My father.”

He pauses, perhaps because he hadn’t expected that answer but you’re sure he’s thinking back on the moment when you first mentioned your father to him. The “story” you gave him was that your father passed away and was a good friend of Karl’s, though you never mentioned anything else about it. 

And now here’s the answer; you killed him yourself.

“Is that why you let Karl do what he did?” He asks you. “Because you thought you deserved the punishment for what you did? Some people may not regret their actions but they’ll let the person most affected do something against them. Was that how it was?”

No.

No, not at all.

You didn’t let Karl hurt you because you knew he’d be hurt by what you did. You didn’t let him hurt you because you thought he at least deserved to lash his anger out on you. Or that you felt bad. Or that you wanted some sort of punishment. Or that you were repenting.

You let Karl hurt you because you’d always let him hurt you, just as you’d always let everyone hurt you.

Because that was how it always was.

A habit.

Being the weaker one, being the one who would chant the words endure, endure because that was what was instilled in you from the moment Mister Butler died. You cannot get out of your habits that easily, you do not just get stronger because you vow to yourself you will.

You don’t just get stronger and you certainly don’t just decide ‘I won’t let anyone step over me anymore’ and succeed on the first try.

Or the second try.

Or the third.

Even the tenth or hundredth time.

You let Karl hurt you because you were used to it and your body, remembering how it always was before your father died, returned to those habits.

The habits of staying still, the habits of enduring all that came at you.

“Yes.” But you lie because what else is there to say? You lie because there is nothing else to say. Because you don’t want to tell the truth. Because the truth means explaining and explaining means opening up and opening up means trusting and trusting never ends well.

You lie because you have to.

“That is all there is to it.” You put Kiwi down onto the floor and stand up straight, making sure to look in the old man’s direction with your hands held together in a formal stance. “Karl’s story is the whole truth. I deserved what he did, for killing his best friend, for killing my father.”

His brows are furrowed and you sense doubt in his eyes but because he has no proof and because you’re not willing to share anything else with him, he can’t push you too hard about the matter. “Whether that is the truth or not, do you really think a man much older and bigger has the right to hurt a woman younger and smaller in stature? No–” he fixes his sentence, “do you think a man is in his right to hurt a woman?”

“A man is capable of hurting anything that he wishes to hurt. He is in the power to do so.”

“You are strong, Y/N.” He stands to meet your eyes, serious, calm, and collected, but there’s a little twitch in his brows to indicate that he feels a bit frustrated by the situation. “You are capable of dodging his attacks. Even if a man were much bigger and stronger than you, you have the brains to outsmart them. You don’t look like someone who will easily let someone else step all over you.”

No. You are exactly just that. You are still the little girl you thought had changed. You’re still weak.

“So I’ll ask you again, Y/N; why did you let Karl hurt you?”

You hate feeling caged in and right now, despite the fact that only Alexander stands in this room, you feel eyes from all over. And maybe that’s just you being paranoid, maybe you’re just making it all up in your head, but you hate every bit of it. 

Every bit of this.

“I gave you my answer, take it with a grain of salt. Do not pretend to be on my side.” And with that, you turn your back to him and walk off without another word.

Alexander doesn’t chase after you but you feel his eyes.

It’s ironic the way you’re supposed to be the one trying to gain his favor and yet this happens; you pushing him away and putting up your walls. And Asher makes sure to remind you of that.

“Isn’t the whole point of you being here to gain his favor?”

He stops you in the middle of the hall when you’re heading back to the guest room.

“Why?” He asks, genuinely curious, maybe even with a bit of genuine concern in that tone.

“Maybe I’m tired,” you say in a quiet voice.

“Of?”

“Of trying to be likable.”

He hums, considering the answer with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the wall. “And that young bodyguard of yours,” he brings up Yeonjun, “he may be a kid but don’t you think he deserves punishment for failing you?”

“No.” You reply easily and Asher raises a brow.

“You won’t punish him?”

“I don’t blame him.”

He watches you as if you were a strange being, like you weren’t making sense, though there’s a bit of unease that marks his features, some sort of disturbance that troubles his thoughts and you realize that you’ve said too much so you start walking again.

“My people aren’t allowed to act unless I tell them to.”

But Asher doesn’t want to leave it with just that. “You wanted my uncle to hurt you?”

“Nobody wants to get hurt willingly, Asher.”

“Then what is it?”

You’re talking too much.

“It is none of your concern, that’s what it is.” With that, you pick up your steps and walk into the room before he can push you any further.

Jungkook is in there when you walk in, and although being left in a room with just him should trigger some sort of response, surprisingly you don’t tremble that easily and perhaps that’s due to the fact that somehow, in some way, your body just knows that Jungkook doesn’t pose any threat to you. Perhaps because somehow, in some way, you’ve learned to put some trust in him in just the slightest way through the times he’s spent acting as your guard.

It’s been a little over a month.

Mingyu came here prior to your meeting with Alexander and surprisingly you didn’t need him as much as you thought you did. You think that’s because Yeonjun managed to calm you down well, despite his perpetual fear in the beginning. He picked himself up in time, after all, and was there for you by mirroring what Mingyu would have done.

Maybe in some ways, your right hand man has trained all the Reapers in how to respond to you when he isn’t around.

He took Yeonjun away for something, though right now you aren’t too concerned about it.

“..Kook.”

You feel tired, you feel drained, and that’s why you’ve managed to only call Jungkook by a shortened name.

He’s responsive at the first call, despite how quiet your voice is, and when he sees that you’ve given him permission to come in close contact with you, he doesn’t hesitate to walk over to you.

“Do you need something?”

It’s odd the way you feel some sort of relief he’s as responsive as he used to be all those years ago. Maybe because a part of Jungkook will always remain the way that he always was, maybe that’s why you’ve learned to associate him with a figure that you can put a bit of trust in.

“When are they coming?”

“They?” He tilts his head and when you reach a hand out towards him, he takes it in order to help you because you feel your legs are weak in the knees.

“Namjoon. Them.” He takes you to the bed so that you can lie down.

“In a month or so,” he replies. “You said as much time as you need to gain Alexander’s favor but the latest would be in a month.”

You’re already winning so what’s the point in waiting? 

It’s been a month, over a month.

You just want to go home already.

“Can you call him?”

Jungkook looks for his phone. “What for?”

“Tell him to come earlier,” you say, body turned over towards him, cheek against the pillow, eyes drowsy. “In a week. I don’t…Karl has…I want him dead.”

For a second his thumb hovers over his phone to look back over at you and there he finds, the little girl he’s seen holding her walls up so high not even a plane can cross over, beginning to crumble in just the slightest way.

You look exhausted.

The makeup does not hide the bags under your eyes, it doesn’t hide the exhaustion, how drained you are over all of this. And maybe a part of that is due to your insisting to stay awake when you needed sleep but a big part of it is the mission itself.

Every mission is a little different from the other, but Jungkook has come to know that every one of them involves someone who has sucked all that sweet girl energy out of you. They’ve all done you wrong and it can’t be easy. It can’t be easy having to face all of them one by one, trying to deal with it all, trying to rid of them, and ultimately as a result, hurting yourself in the process.

“Kook?” Your eyes went closed for a second but upon his silence, you open them up again in order to look up at him, and due to your exhaustion, he finds the pretty girl he once loved all those years ago with the smallest voice as if calling out for him in a sense of help.

“I-I’ll call.” He’s flustered, slightly, but hits the call button with his thumb and walks towards the bathroom. “Stay awake, alright? I won’t be away for too long.”

He closes the door behind him to start looking around for something just as Namjoon picks up on the other end.

“Jungkook?”

“Y/N wanted me to tell you to come earlier.”

“Earlier?” It’s surprising on his end because just the night before, you told him to stick to the original plan. “Did something happen?” Of course something must’ve happened for you to change your mind so quickly.

In some ways you’re just as stubborn as he is, so he knows you aren’t someone who will change your mind that easily.

“This afternoon, uh…” Jungkook hesitates, not sure if it’s okay to relay him the news but something tells him you probably expect Jungkook to not stay silent about it to the boys. They share everything with each other after all, and if you really cared, you wouldn’t have let him anywhere near you after what happened. “Karl, you know, after touching her when she felt uncomfortable?” He did mention the incident a few weeks ago to Namjoon already. “Well, Y/N took up his invitation to tea in order to catch up and stuff and I assume she pissed him off.”

Somehow, Namjoon expected that. After all, you hinted at doing something reckless during your call with him. 

“I’m not sure what happened exactly because I wasn’t there but Karl hit her.”

“What?” There’s some shuffling on the other end. “What do you mean hit her?”

“Not just once. She has bruises as a result.”

“Bruises?”

“I should get back to her, she might fall asleep but I’ll catch up with you later.” He doesn’t wait for Namjoon’s reply before cutting the call off and returning to your side out of worry that leaving you alone for too long won’t be good, and the fact that you might have actually fallen asleep on him.

Surprisingly you’re still awake, though your eyes are as droopy as they were when he left you.

“Can you turn over on your back?” Is the first thing he asks of you and you obey, turning over. The bed dips a little when he takes a seat beside you and that’s when you feel he begins to take your lashes off.

“You know there’s a lot of processes that go into taking off makeup, right?” You tell him when he takes the other one off.

“I know, bub, I’ve done it before.”

Right.

He’s helped you before.

“So just stay still, yeah? You don’t have to do anything.”

You listen to the lure of his voice, as soft as the way he used to speak to you all those years ago, and let your eyes close as he begins to swipe the makeup wipe over your face. It’s gentle the way he does it, almost as gentle as Dasom, and although he’s a little clumsy and isn’t as fast as she is, he does his best during it all.

When the makeup wipe is done, you feel your hair pushed back and a band coming over to keep it out of the way, then some sort of cloth on your chest and tied behind your neck.

Warm water walks over your face. Bits of it, not too much, not too little, so that you don’t get too wet anywhere else, and then the feel of soapy foam begins to rub in circles all over your face. The massage feels nice and you almost feel your consciousness slipping away but you keep awake to the touch of Jungkook’s hands.

About a minute later, he soaks a washcloth into water and starts to wipe the cleanser off you so that you don’t have to sit up and wash it off with water yourself.

It takes a moment but eventually, he gets it done, and then you feel a wet cotton pad swipe over next.

Something about all of this, the steps he memorized either for you from the past or the fact that he now does it himself regularly, feels rather domestic and just…soft.

And in your sleepy and tired state, you feel anything but uncomfortable, lured in with the feeling of basking on top of clouds with your head bathing under the warm sun with light little pitter patters of rain sprinkling over you.

You don’t know why you enjoy this so much despite how different it feels from when Dasom does it for you, but knowing that your trust is beginning to leak outside of Reapers somehow brings a sort of comfort you never thought you’d feel.

It’s a little frightening because trusting is always scary, especially for people that had once broken it, but for some reason, it just…feels right.

Somehow.

And maybe that’s because you know they were never at fault in the first place, that they were just forced into making an unwanted decision. 

Jung Hoseok would probably be in the same position as they were were he to realize the truth all those years ago. If he hadn’t gotten hurt on that mission. If he hadn’t been forced to lay on the infirmary bed in order to recover. If he hadn’t stood away from the six of them.

Even still, as you’ve said it plenty of times before, just because someone doesn’t mean them doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.

In the safe space that they provided you, you were kicked out of your own comfort and forced to return to the hell you thought you had escaped.

“Why do you not cry?” His voice keeps you awake and when you look up at him through your lashes, eyes feeling quite dreary and heavy, he finds himself pausing in his ministrations as he stares down at you who’s looking up directly at him.

“Why do you ask that?” You return a question, voice just as soft.

Jungkook’s eyes trail down your face. “Karl…he…” he didn’t see what happened but the aftermath of it is right before his eyes. “And Leehyun and…..” He presses his lips together. “You have..so much to cry for.”

“...Do I now?”

“Is there nothing left?” He asks, a hand brushing back small strands of hair that tries to block your eyes.

You don’t nod because you’re too tired to move so you nod through a blink. “It’s all dried up.”

From the water that he used to clean your face, a drop falls from your lash and trails down your cheek, mirroring what a teardrop looks like, and then you say, “But…if I knew how to cry……do you think you deserve to see them?”

He doesn’t reply but you have your answer.

He doesn’t feel worthy.

This Jungkook and the Jungkook you once knew long ago are the same in the way they always feel unworthy of something. No matter how many times you can assure him, he will always think there is something he can do better, that he is undeserving, that he can never be enough.

But unlike idiots who simply say “I don’t deserve you” and go about their days after breaking your heart, Jungkook says it and steps up to do what he can to try and prove to himself that he can be someone deserving.

He always did all that he could and when there came a point when he looked as if he could finally come to terms with being at peace with his love for you, it was ripped away from him all too soon and now he’s back to square one, trying to prove himself.

Even if it isn’t in the form of love.

Jungkook will always care.

But even still,

“I still hate you.”

It comes out soft, it comes out quiet, and a little timid and a little brave, but you hadn’t meant for it to come out.

If you were wide awake, if you weren’t in such a vulnerable state, you would have never spoken those words to him. But because your consciousness is on the verge of slipping away, you speak them out loud for him to hear.

“I know.” And he replies in the same voice, the same softness, quiet, and timid, and brave.

He doesn’t leave your side even after those exchanges uttered unto each other and you fall asleep next to his presence, next to his comfort, next to his warmth.

.

.

.

Jungkook wasn’t there when Taehyung said he witnessed you sleepwalking but he said that it wasn’t the sort of sleepwalking you’d see in a normal person. He said you looked like a ghost more than anything, and that at times, you’d just stand still in the middle of the room and not move an inch.

No, not a ghost. A corpse.

And now here he is, after endless refusal to sleep and finally allowing your eyes to stay closed, he witnesses what Taehyung had meant.

A corpse standing still in the middle of the room, blanket over her shoulders, eyes staring up at the dim sky outside the window, blank and without any hint of life in them.

He watches you from a distance, a furrow in his brows, with his tongue bitten back and his fists clenched by his side.

Subtle anger lies in his heart, brewing, not at you but towards the world that has made you into the sort of person you are today. Or maybe it had always been this way, maybe you had always been hurting and he just never noticed, maybe it was always like this all along and maybe, perhaps, they made it worse when they left you all alone to fend for your own self.

Feeding you to the wolves.

He’s angry not just at the world but at himself and Jungkook knows that if the truth were to ever leave your lips about what actually happened to you, about all the things that you’ve gone through, he knows that this hatred he feels right now is only but a small fraction waiting to build up before it all breaks into the tiniest little pieces.

Shattering in the way he had broken you.

Shattered.

The world can only do so much but he encouraged it by standing by, by letting it all fall down onto you, by letting himself be convinced that you’d be fine, that everything would be alright.

But nothing turned out alright.

In the days and months and years that followed your absence, they returned to how things were, returned to loving one another, accepting one another, forgiving one another. But in those days and months and years, he can only imagine what sort of events you had to face.

While they had each other, while they always had each other to lean on, did you have anyone by your side?

The Reapers may be one thing, supporting you and giving you their utmost loyalty, but did they ever hold power over the things that happened to you in the way Namjoon could have handled it? In the way he would have handled it?

“Y/N?” You don’t answer him when he calls out to you but he expected that so he walks on over to where you’re standing.

You’re as still as ever, and he approaches with a careful, watchful gaze, hesitant when he reaches a finger over to you. 

A small touch to the blanket, just over your shoulder, and when you don’t freak out or move away from him, he puts two fingers. 

Then another.

Then another.

And when you don’t react to his hand, he proceeds to place a hand on your head and press it towards his chest.

You don’t resist.

“Come on, let’s head back to bed, yeah?” And understanding that you’re okay with him even in this lifeless state of yours, because he knows your body is capable of telling the people you trust and don’t trust apart, he puts his other hand under your knees and picks you up to carry you over back to the bed.

You comply well with him despite your unresponsive self, and when he tucks you back in with the blanket pulled over your chest, he looks back to see your eyes staring straight toward him. Empty yet lonely.

Vacant.

Not at him but through him, and his heart aches a little at the sight.

“You’re alright now,” Jungkook whispers. “You’re alright.”

If Hoseok had been here, would he have been able to do a better job looking after you?

Jungkook wishes he could have been better.

💜💜💜

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 8

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Jimin yawned as he sat up from the awkward angle that he fell asleep in. It had been another night of working for him. In his drunken stupor, he had gotten rid of his jacket and fell asleep in his shirt and pants.

“Hey, you.” Jimin said, sticking his head out the window to a maid that was cleaning the backyard.

“Young master Jimin.” She immediately stood up straight and bowed.

“Bring my breakfast to my room and an iced black coffee. I’ll be in the shower, leave it on my desk.” Jimin pulled his head back in and went to take a nice, hot shower. The smell of old alcohol and blood dissipated and was replaced with the smell of fresh soap.

“Exactly what I needed.” Jimin came out, a towel over his shoulder to prevent his dripping hair from wetting his shirt. He saw the tray of hot food and sat down to dig in.

“Chim? You’re up?” Taehyung poked his head into the room.

“Oh, Tae. Yeah... I just woke up. I didn’t get in until this morning.” Jimin blinked as he took a sip of the hot soup. That settled his churning stomach.

“I heard. Namjoon hyung said to expect that we will be more busy but we still have to try to lay low.” Taehyung groaned in annoyance, falling onto the back of Jimin’s bed, arms spread as he stared at the ceiling.

“Your informant is dead, by the way.”

“What happened?” Taehyung hoisted himself up onto his elbows to look at the back of his best friend’s head.

“Not sure. I went to the meeting point like you said. His body was already cold, waiting for me to find. He was probably ratted out by someone. The injuries look like a mafia’s execution style. His jaw was broken from someone stomping on the back of his head and a single gunshot wound right through the skull.” Jimin described.

“Damn, it’s getting harder to find good informants nowadays. Ones that actually stay hidden and anonymous. No biggie, I’ll just try to scout another person.” Taehyung clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“That’s what you get for having lackeys as your informants. Do they even get you anything useful?”

“They get me what I need underground, I guess. Plus, lackeys are easier to convert than long time workers.” Taehyung shrugged.

“Oh yeah. Apparently, there was a visitor to one of my clubs. They can’t describe the guy but someone handed my bartender this in the stack of bills during payment.” Jimin went to retrieve something from his jacket pocket.

“Hmmm.” Taehyung held the card.

“What does it mean?” Jimin asked as he sat back down to continue his meal. There was no reply, making him turn to his best friend. Taehyung was deep in thought, a slight frown on his face.

“Tae?”

“This card... It’s the Judgement card. The angel, sent by God, to judge who is eligible to enter heaven. Someone is going to declare a war soon and judgement will be upon us all, to decide who lives and who dies.” Taehyung spoke stoicly as he stood up.

“If Namjoon hyung asks, don’t tell him about the card yet. Until I can find out more.” He said to Jimin, who nodded his head.

“This message was meant for me. I don’t know why but to send a message in the form of a card...” Taehyung trailed off at the end of his sentence. Without another word, he left the room.

“I’m done with my food. You can clear my room now.” Jimin informed the butler when he emerged from his room.

“Yes, young master.” The butler bowed.

“Do you guys know where Namjoon hyung is?” Jimin asked Jungkook and Hoseok, who were engrossed on their video game, too busy trying to kill the other person’s character.

“He’s at the lab. Has some big meeting with the guys in the defense department of the government to work on some prototype or something.” Jungkook said.

“Oh.”

“He hasn’t been to the lab in forever things are all backed up there. They’re asking Namjoon hyung to consuilt and invest in their new chemical weapon testing.” He explained.

“He had a message for you. He said ‘give the note to Yoongi hyung’, whatever that means.” Hoseok added. Jimin hummed as an acknowledgement and went to find the second oldest. Yoongi was squinting at his piano book, trying to read the sheet music to play on his piano. He reached over to grab his crystal whiskey glass to take a sip.

“Yoongi hyung? It’s Jimin, I have something for you.” Jimin knocked on the door. Yoongi’s fingers stopped, resting on the black and white keys. He knew why Jimin was here, Namjoon had informed him prior.

“Come in.” He replied.

“Here. Namjoon hyung said to hand this to you.” Jimin took the folded paper out of his pocket and placed it on the piano.

“Thanks.” Yoongi took the paper and unfolded it, his eyes scanning the contents. Jimin tilted his head, he didn’t know what the names and numbers on the paper meant.

“What’s it for?”

“It’s a hit list. We’re not sure whose hit list it is but since the names are members of the same political faction, it’s obvious that there is some sort of political motive to get rid of them.” Yoongi explained.

“So what are we going to do?” Jimin asked.

“Protect the bigger names, kill the smaller ones before the actual hitman can get to them. Create confusion for the actual person that ordered the hit. You, Jungkook and I will be mobilised when the plan is in action.” Yoongi informed and Jimin nodded his head, understanding.

The three of them were the hitmen of the group. Of course, everyone knew how to wield a weapon but the three of them were usually responsible for the more violent missions.

“I won’t disturb you further. Bye.” Jimin waved and left. Yoongi watched the younger leave and shut the door.

‘I got the list from Jimin. It’s a big one. - Yoongi’

Namjoon looked at the text on his phone. He let out a sigh of relief, grateful for Jimin’s skills in retrieving the list. He put the device away and turned back to the defence minister.

“Of course, I trust that all this will be kept under wraps?” The minister turned to Namjoon.

“You’re the one that sought us out to invest in your little project, Mr Park. I should be the one concerned with the secrecy, not you. Don’t you think?” Namjoon chuckled. At the slight taunt in his voice, the defence minister’s guards stepped up but the old man held his hand up to stop him. He nodded in agreement with Namjoon.

“Definitely. Your investment and expertise will be a big help to the development and testing of our new prototype. The outsourced labs we’ve partnered with just isn’t cutting it.” The minister clicked his tongue.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to put them down. They do have the backing of the government and they know how to keep a good image in front of the public.”

“That’s true. But I know you will get me the results I want, Mr Kim.” The minister gave Namjoon a knowing smile.

“I look forward to working with you then.” He held his hand out.

“Not so fast.” Namjoon raised his eyebrow at the outstretched hand. The minister withdrew his hand, waiting for Namjoon to continue speaking. No way will Namjoon strike a deal that easily.

“I want the profiles of those working the team and prototype. Background checks. Can’t be too careless with potential moles working with other people.” Namjoon explained.

“Understandable. I will get my secretary to send them over to you.”

“You’ll get your contract signature after those profiles are looked over.” Namjoon said. The same guard from before stepped up.

“Someone’s a little on edge, isn’t he” Namjoon smirked with a slight tilt of the head.

“Forgive him, Mr Kim. He’s new to the job and doesn’t know how these things work. There’s no intention to disrespect.” The defence minister said. He turned to the guard, nodding over to Namjoon. That was the signal for him to bow and apologise to Namjoon.

“If that’s all, I look forward to the next time we speak. Maybe then, you’ll be a bit more accustomed to this.” Namjoon patted the guard’s shoulder, who stiffened up.

“Thank you for your time in seeing us. Hopefully, we get a good partnership out of this.” The defence minister shook hands with Namjoon.

“We’ll see.” Namjoon raised his eyebrows.

The car came to a stop and the worker jogged out, opening the car door for Taehyung. He sighed and came out, entering the shop. The receptionist stood up from her post and bowed deeply to him.

“Boss.” Two of Taehyung’s men stood up and bowed as Taehyung walked deeper into the store.

“We lost another informant yesterday. So either they’re not very good secret keepers or there is a mole amongst us, leaking out information on who the informants are.” Taehyung said, sitting down on his throne-like chair. All this was covered by the curtain separating the store front and the usual ‘consultation’ area of the shop.

“I want you all to find the mole. Go!” Taehyung barked. The two men nodded fearfully, bowing and running out of there.

“Tch.” Taehyung kicked his feet up onto the table, resting them on the purple velvet tablecloth. He took out the card that Jimin gave him earlier, spinning it between his fingers.

“Judgement day is coming.” He said quietly to himself.

RINGGGGGGG

“V’s Fortune Telling and Tarot Reading. How can I help you?... Do you have an appointment?... I understand, please hold.” Taehyung heard the receptionist answer the phone at the front of the shop. The receptionist poked her head behind to curtain, making Taehyung sit up.

“Boss. It’s for you.” She handed the phone over to Taehyung. It must have been a notable person for her to not handle the call herself like she usually does. He looked at the number and recognised it immediately.

“Mr President. I wasn’t expecting a call from you. How can I help?” Taehyung smirked as he spoke into the phone.

After passing the phone over, the receptionist immediately bowed out of the curtained area and walked to the front, turning the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and drawing the privacy curtains.

‘Hi, (y/n)! I’m apparently the only one with your number so I was asked to send you a message. Would you like to join my brothers and I for dinner tomorrow night? - Taehyung’

You drummed your fingers on your desk as you thought about what to reply, how were you supposed to craft your reply and you didn’t know if you wanted to say that you would go or not. Of course, your schedule was free, your plan was to just do university work. But did you want to go?

“Hey. You okay?” Wonwoo waved his hand in front of your face when he noticed you spacing out.

“Did you just run a marathon? You’re panting so heavily.” You chuckled, acting completely normal as you turned your phone screen to hide the message pop up from Taehyung.

“The dance teacher let us go late. I thought I wouldn’t have time to shower before coming.” He shook his head with a tired sigh.

“Because your performance evaluations are coming up?”

“Yeah. But I’m confident my team and I can do it. They’re all really talented and hardworking.” Wonwoo said.

“I’m sure you’re just as talented as they are, Woo. I haven’t seen you all perform before but I am sure you are all very good.” You smiled. You have seen Wonwoo rap, dance and play instruments before, he was really talented.

“Actually, tomorrow we’re having this small performance in the studio and students are welcomed to come watch. Sort of like rehearsal for us too. It’ll be after school at about 4pm. Are you free to come?” He asked. You thought back to the dinner plans that Taehyung just invited you for. Maybe you could go after watching Wonwoo.

“Sure. Save me a seat.” You nodded your head. Wonwoo smiled excitedly and gave you a thumbs up. The professor came in and began the class.

After class, you made sure to remember to text Taehyung back with your reply for tomorrow’s dinner plans. The plan was for you to be picked up from the university then get ready at their place before going for dinner.

‘Where will we be going for dinner? - (y/n)’

‘It’s a surprise so I can’t tell you. If you need the dress code, hmm… I would say dress smart casual. It isn’t too fancy. - Taehyung’

“That doesn’t help at all.” You sighed. Not because of the vague dress code but you wanted to do some research before the dinner. You wanted to know what to expect, in terms of behaviour and type of food.

‘Don’t worry too much. It’s just a casual dinner :) See you tomorrow! - Taehyung’

It was as if he knew exactly what you were fretting about. You were supposed to go home with Wonwoo but when you arrived at the front of the university, there were girls surrounding him, giggling and chatting about how excited they were to see him perform tomorrow.

“The bus it is.” You didn’t hold it against him. Even in high school, Wonwoo was very popular with the girls. There was no doubt that he was handsome and girls were always jealous of you being friends with him.

“Hey, (y/n). I’m at the front of the university. Where are you?”

“Oh, hey Wonwoo! I saw that you were busy so I decided to just take the bus home. I didn’t want to take you away from your friends.” You said as you tapped your card.

“I’m sorry, (y/n)... I promised to drop you home but those people just surrounded me. Where are you now?”

“No need to apologise, it’s fine. Really. I’m already on the way home.” You assured him.

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You and Wonwoo bid each other goodbye before hanging up. While on the bus, you decided to look at the promotional announcements for your nearby supermarket. With everything you’ve been doing, the house was in serious need of some restocking. So instead of going home, you got off at the stop near the supermarket.

“Good evening.” You grabbed a cart and greeted the staff that were out restocking. You followed your list in picking up what you needed, both food and household items.

“Pasta.” You looked at all the shapes available on the shelf. Going to the shelf, you tiptoed to try and get the box down.

“Let me help.” Someone appeared behind you, reaching up to get the box.

“Thank you.” You received the box with a bow of your head. After he saved you the other night, you haven’t really spoken to him. You didn’t really know how he felt about you. Plus, you were a little awkward.

“What brings you here, Hoseok sshi?” You blinked.

“I was in the area for work. Stopped by to get our youngest some snacks.” He explained, gesturing to his basket of snacks.

“And (y/n)? Just call me Hoseok.” He smiled. You nodded your head, clearing your throat while looking away. You continued walking and Hoseok walked beside you.

“Do you mind me tagging along?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Do you usually end university at this time?” He tilted his head.

"No, it differs depending on the class and meetings after.” You replied. Hoseok grabbed what he needed and waited patiently for you, helping you carry the heavy stuff to load into your shopping cart. He didn’t really make an effort to force a conversation, which you were grateful for.

“I’m done.” You informed him. He nodded and you both headed for the cash register to pay for your items. Like the gentleman he was, Hoseok let you go first, even if you had more things.

“Here-”

“No. Please, these are my household stuff. I can pay for them myself.” You stopped him from giving his credit card over.

“Here you go. Thank you.” You handed your own card over to the cashier, who bagged everything up for you. As she bagged, you put the stuff bag into your cart to wheel out. Hoseok helped you while the cashier scanned his items.

“I’ll drop you home. It’ll be too heavy to carry everything and take the bus.” Hoseok offered.

“Thank you.” You shot him a small smile.

“Done. Let’s go.” Hoseok got his bags and you pushed the cart, following him to his car. Fortunately, Hoseok decided to drive a bigger car to work rather than one of the two seater sportscars.

Once everything was loaded, Hoseok began to drive back to your home. Unlike Taehyung, he listened to soft rap music in the car. You looked out the window at the setting sun and noticed people rushing after getting off work. Luckily Hoseok had bumped into you and was able to send you back. Or else you would have to carry everything in a crowded bus.

“Let me help you off load the items.” Hoseok said as he put the car in park outside your house.

“There’s no need! You’ve helped me more than enough. Even saving me from having to ride in a crowded bus with my things. Really, I appreciate it.” You shook your hands.

“It’s alright. Jungkook can afford to wait for his snacks. He won’t starve.” Hoseok laughed, grabbing the bags and walking up to your house. You quickly ran forward to unlock the door for him.

“You can just leave them here.” You pointed to the kitchen table.

“Thank you again, Hoseok sshi.” You bowed repeatedly once everything was brought into the house.

“Don’t keep thanking me, (y/n). It’s really no big deal. Also, I said to just call me Hoseok. Drop the formalities.” He smiled. His smile was rather infectious, making you smile too.

“I’m glad you’re not feeling awkward or uncomfortable with me after what happened last time. Because I want to assure you that I won’t judge or anything. It was a moment of vulnerability for you and I would never tease you over it.” Hoseok said.

“O-Oh... right... I was just feeling embarrassed by my reaction to it.” You rubbed the back of your neck.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s normal to be scared. And I’m glad you could count on us, or at least Taehyung, to help you.” He said.

“It was the only person I could think of at that time. And I don’t even want to think of what would have happened if you guys didn’t come in time.” You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Don’t scare yourself.” He patted your shoulder and you nodded, relaxing immediately.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at dinner?”

“Yes. I look forward to it.” You giggled. You walked Hoseok to the door, awkwardly waving and watching him drive off before heading back into the house to unpack the groceries.

~~

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💜💜💜

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 9

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

“I shouldn’t turn up early when you guys are not ready, right?” You asked with a giggle as you walked beside Wonwoo.

“Don’t worry, if we’re not ready at this point, I don’t think we’ll ever be ready. Besides, I want to introduce you to my team.” Wonwoo smiled. You nodded with a hum. As you stood outside the studio, you heard music and chatter coming from the inside.

“Hey guys. I’m here.” Wonwoo knocked before entering. He held the door open for you to go in. There were so many people in Wonwoo’s team, 13 of them in total.

“Everyone, this is my best friend, (y/n). (y/n), this is my team.” Wonwoo smiled brightly as he introduced you, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“Nice to meet you all.” You bowed shyly.

“Any friend of Wonwoo’s is a friend of ours. Please, make yourself comfortable.” The boys all introduced themselves to you. It was a lot of names to take in at once but they were patient and kind.

“Better start warming up, Wonwoo.” One of them reminded. You waved Wonwoo off and took a seat at the corner.

“Jihoon hyung, is this the new track?” Chan held up a CD.

“It should be.” The shorter male nodded his head. You tilted your head as you looked at him. His complexion and features reminded you of Yoongi, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were related in some way.

“Yes?” Jihoon turned to you, having noticed you staring at him. Your eyes widened before you shook your head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. You just look like someone I know.” You explained. He chuckled and nodded his head, turning back to talk to another team member. You watched as Wonwoo warmed up, completely focused on what Mingyu was saying to him. At least you weren’t distracting him with your presence there.

This wasn’t an ordinary evaluation. Wonwoo had described it has having to plan a concert on their own, which not only tested their talents but also their stage management skills and teamwork ability.

“Which ever team is ready can warm up first.” Seungcheol announced to the others.

“Is there something I can help with? I can like play the music or something.” You volunteered, seeing the boys run back and forth to the music system.

“No need. You’re our audience!” Joshua smiled.

“I know how busy you guys are warming up and rehearsing. I don’t mind helping, I can still be the audience from where I am seated anyway. This way, you guys don’t have to take turns.” You giggled.

“Okay then. Thank you!” He patted your shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it.” You replied in English, guessing he could speak the language since he had an English name. Joshua’s eyes widened.

“You speak English?” He asked. You nodded your head, rubbing the back of your neck shyly.

“That’s cool. You speak well!” Joshua laughed. He explained that only him and Vernon could speak English in the team. And you told him how your mother wanted you to be a polyglot, thinking that it would help you in your future career.

Wonwoo watched you laugh and chat with Joshua in English. He hadn’t seen you open up so easily to a stranger you have just met before and it made him feel weird.

“(y/n).” Wonwoo called. His team was done warming up and were going to run their rehearsal first.

“I better get to my job.” You turned back to go to the music system.

“Of course. So this is play and pause, this is to go back to the start and this is to skip to the next song. Easy.” Joshua told you how to work the system and it was relatively simple. You nodded your head and sat down.

“Go.” Wonwoo gave you a thumbs up and you played the music. You watched Wonwoo and his team rap. They were all very charismatic and powerful with their raps.

“Pause. Sorry, I missed the beat. Can we start again?” Vernon said. You stopped the music and scrolled back to the start to play again.

“Thanks, (y/n).” Vernon said into the mic. You gave him two thumbs up and a smile. While they rehearsed diligently, the others made sure to keep their voices down to avoid distracting those that were practicing. You took your phone out to order some drinks from the school cafe to be delivered to the studio for Wonwoo and his friends.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Oh. Hang on.” You stood up and went to the door. Wonwoo momentarily looked away, eyes following your figure. Were you already leaving before the performance even started?

“Sorry about that.” You jogged back and stopped the music as the next song was going to play.

“I’m not sure what everyone likes so I bought iced americanos for everyone. Please help yourselves.” You told everyone with a bow as you carried in the coffee carriers. Wonwoo went over to help you take them.

“No worries!”

“You didn’t need to but thank you, (y/n)!” The boys all chorused as they handed out the coffees to one another.

“This is yours. Your regular order.” You took a specific cup out and handed it to Wonwoo. Of course you would know what his regular order was. He received the cup, taking a sip.

“Thank you, (y/n).” Wonwoo smiled softly, patting your head.

After that little coffee break, you helped the others run their unit routines. You made sure to clap for each of them. They were all so talented in their own way. Wonwoo sat beside you as he took his break, waiting for them to finish so they could all do the main performance together.

“Do you want to take a break?” Wonwoo asked, nudging your shoulder playfully. You shook your head.

“I’m good. It’s just pushing a button.” You laughed. Wonwoo was soon called and all 13 of them prepared to do their performance as a team. You were in awe, it was so mesmerising to see them all come together.

“Let’s do it sharper and cleaner.” Soonyoung said as they all panted at the end.

“Okay. Take a sip of water and we’ll run it one last time.” Seungcheol said to everyone. You scrolled the song back for them to rehearse again.

“Thank you for your help, (y/n). See you!” The boys all waved to you as you parted ways with them. They were going backstage while you were heading to where the audience sits.

“Good luck.” You wished them.

“You’ve been a great help. Thanks again.” Wonwoo smiled, placing a hand on your head as he looked at you.

“No need to thank, Wonwoo. Your friends are all really nice. All the best for your performances, I know you can do it. Don’t doubt yourself and your talent.” You encouraged him. Wonwoo laughed, nodding his head.

“I’ll see you in the audience?” He tilted his head. You gave him a thumbs up and walked away from him. Wonwoo had saved you a seat in the front row of the small auditorium. Down the row, you could see the professors and instructors there, ready to grade and evaluate all 13 boys. You hoped they could see how hard all of them worked on this.

“Alright, everyone. I’m sure you know that these performances will be evaluated so let’s not draw attention away from the performers.” One of the professors spoke to the audience.

“Begin!” One said into the mic and the lights dimmed.

“Go, Wonwoo!” You cheered along with the rest of the audience that was there, awaiting the boys to come out.

The performance began, it wasn’t a long show. There were two entire group performances, unit performances and some members played extra instruments. Like Wonwoo playing the guitar while Jihoon played the piano.

“Thank you all for making it tonight. We’re really grateful and hope you enjoyed the performance.” The 13 of them stood in a line and bowed.

“Thank you!” The boys all waved. Wonwoo looked down and saw your retreating back heading for the auditorium exit. He ran backstage to get his bag to try and catch you.

“(y/n)!” He was going to ask if you wanted to have dinner together to celebrate a successful performance. But you didn’t seem to hear him as you walked to the exit of the university. He jogged after you, smiling to those that congratulated him on a good show.

“Wow, look at him!”

“Who is he?”

Wonwoo saw you rush towards a buff guy, leaning against his Lamborghini. His sleeves were folded up, revealing the tattoo sleeve he had on one arm.

“Sorry for the wait.” You bowed your head as you approached. The guy shook his head, opening the door for you to enter the passenger seat. After that, he went to the driver’s seat and sped off, leaving the students to gossip.

“The show just ended. Did you wait long...? Uh...” You didn’t know his name.

“Jungkook. And no, I didn’t wait long. It’s alright, I was earlier than the time Taehyung hyung told me to come anyway.” He spoke without much emotion.

‘Sorry I had to rush off for a dinner appointment, Woo! But congratulations on having a great performance, you were amazing! Let’s have a meal soon to celebrate! On me. - (y/n)’

*read*

You assumed that Wonwoo was probably busy, which is why he didn’t reply despite having read your message. The show was good and you had no doubt that Wonwoo would receive a good grade. But at the same time, you could be biased. You tucked your phone away, looking out at the view as Jungkook sped through the streets and cars.

“We’re here.” Jungkook said as he parked the car in the basement. You came out, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Thanks for coming to get me.” You bowed your head. He hummed, walking in front of you. You followed him into the house, vaguely remembering the way to the guest bedroom you used.

“Agashi, the bathroom has been restocked for your use.” The butler informed.

“Thank you. I’m glad I still remember how to get there. This place is like a maze.” You chuckled. The butler nodded with a laugh.

“I’ll leave you to it then. If you need anything, just let us know.” He bowed deeply before exiting the room. You took out the outfit you planned and hung it up, not wanting it to crease any further.

“I’ve got an hour to get ready.” You checked your phone before hopping into the bathroom.

“Calm down.” You told yourself with your hand over your racing heart, knowing that your time was running out. After a nice shower, you played some music as you dried your hair, trying to style it with the hairdryer that was in the bathroom, and did some light makeup.

The outfit you chose was a black turtle neck with a plaid skirt and a dark brown blazer draped over your shoulders. For shoes, you went with black suede chelsea boots that had a small heel.

“You’re here.” As you were exiting the room, you bumped into Yoongi. He nodded, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

“Yes.” You bowed your head.

“Come on. We can wait for the others in the living room.” He nodded his head over to the stairwell. You slung your bag over your shoulder and followed him down to the living room area.

“Want a drink?” Yoongi offered, going to the bar area as you settled on the couch. You watched him pour some whiskey into a crystal glass.

“No, thanks.” You declined. He sat in the arm chair, quietly sipping his drink. You couldn’t help but think back to Jihoon earlier and how he looked so much like Yoongi.

“Something on my face?” Yoongi teased.

“Do you ever think you have a long lost brother out there?” You blurted out. Yoongi blinked, taken aback by your sudden question.

“Well, I never thought about that considering I can barely remember what my parents look like. That is really a question to think about. Do you think you have any long lost siblings out there?” Yoongi asked back. He obviously thought your question was more rhetorical and reflective rather than a direct one that had ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to answer.

“Sorry. I just... I just met someone that looked like you, that’s all. So I just blurted it out.” You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment. Yoongi burst out laughing.

“You’re peculiar.” He snorted.

“I didn’t mean it as a joke.” You face palmed. One by one, the other 6 streamed into the living room. They were all very handsome and well dressed.

“You look great.” Taehyung smiled, as if he heard your internal worry of being underdressed compared to them.

“Thank you. All of you too.” You used your hand to gesture to all of them. Namjoon stood next to you, holding his arm out to you. You blinked for a few minutes before you registered what his intentions were.

“Thank you.” You said meekly with a bow of your head as he walked you to the front. There were 3 big vans waiting with drivers.

“Uh...” You weren’t sure which van to go in as the boys naturally split into their usual seating arrangement. Seeing that Jimin and Jungkook went into the last van, you decided to go to one of the ones in front. You had a feeling the two didn’t like you very much.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” Yoongi tilted his head.

“Yah, Yoongi ah. Don’t speak like that. Come, (y/n), ride with us.” Jin smiled as he held his hand out to you.

“O-Okay.” You slipped your hand into his and stepped into the van. Yoongi wasn’t going to move to the back so you just squeezed between their two single seats to the third row.

“Are you nervous?” Jin suddenly turned around to face you.

“N-No?”

“Is that a question?” Yoongi voiced out, not looking up from his phone screen. At this point, you knew his was teasing and flattened.

“Stop being a bully. She’s already a wreck.” Jin slapped his arm. Being the oldest meant that Jin could do anything to Yoongi and Yoongi would think twice before retaliating.

“If you’re worried about Jimin, don’t worry about him. At most, you guys can just avoid one another for now and wait for another time to talk things out. Plus, the rest of us are there, he won’t do much.” Jin assured with a kind smile.

“But he’s right though. Everything he’s said, I agree with. It’s a hard pill to swallow but the truth, nonetheless.” You forced a smile.

“Doesn’t mean it’s the truth means he gets an excuse for acting the way he is now and the way he did before. A lot of people can tell the truth without the screaming, yelling and guilt tripping.” Yoongi spoke and Jin actually nodded his head in agreement. You chewed on your bottom lip as you fell back onto the seat to look out the window.

“Sir.” The van came to a stop and someone opened the van door. It was one of the doormen of the place you were going to for dinner. Jin and Yoongi came down. They held their hands out to you to help you down.

“My apologies for not noticing you, ma’am.” The doorman bowed deeply.

“It’s alright. Thank you.” You turned to Yoongi and Jin, pulling your hands away from theirs.

“I thought you said it wasn’t going to be a fancy place?” You asked Taehyung who came to walk beside you. The building sure looked fancy.

“It isn’t. Serious.” Taehyung held his hands up.

“It sure does look fancy...” You mumbled. You followed them in quietly, kind of walking between them so you wouldn’t feel like all the attention was on you. The 7 seemed used to it as people stared and whispered about them.

“Mr Kim. Right this way.” The hostess smiled and bowed to Namjoon. She was posh and pretty, even her posture as she walked was something admirable in those high heels.

“Please let us know if you need anything.” She said as she closed the doors to the private room, sealing you all in, away from the rest of the restaurant patrons. Hoseok handed you a menu and you flipped through it. Some of the items, you recognised because of the research you did prior.

“Are you alright, (y/n)?” Namjoon asked.

“Huh? Yes, I am.” You nodded. You were so focused on the menu that you hadn’t noticed the serious look on your face.

“We usually come for their dinner menu. The chef decides what to recommend, Dégustation in other words.”  Jin helped you, flipping the menu to the back to show you.

“Okay. I’ll have that.” You decided. Most of the courses were fixed but for the appetiser, meat and the dessert, there were options to choose from.

“Do you have any food allergies?” Taehyung asked. You shook your head.

When the manager was called in, you listened and watched the 7 of them place their orders, all of them having their own combination of food based on their own preferences. Then it came to you.

“For the appetiser, I’ll have the dashi-poached crabmeat angel hair pasta. And for my meat, the 20-day dry aged hanwoo sirloin.” You ordered, learning from the boys’ order that dessert was ordered later after the rest of the meal.

“Of course, miss.” The manager bowed. Yoongi and Namjoon decided on a bottle of wine to order and share.

“You know your food.” Hoseok noted, impressed with you knowing what to order.

“No... I was really just guessing based on what sounded and looked good. I hope I ordered the right things” You lied, not wanting to reveal that you research common expensive foods prior to this.

“You chose good options.” Yoongi replied, assuring you. You let out a small sigh of relief. There wasn’t much conversation going on at the table as you waited for your food. They talked in smaller groups, like Jimin and Jungkook, who were seated opposite each other at the end of the table. You were at the other end, opposite Namjoon with Jin on your left.

“Did you pick a major yet?” Yoongi asked.

“No... I haven’t really thought about it actually. Every time I try to narrow down my options, it just ends up being more confusing for me.” You rubbed the back of your neck.

“Your father mentioned that you’re a polyglot. Why don’t you go into linguistics?” Namjoon pointed out.

“That is probably one of my top options. But I was wondering what I can do with a linguistics degree... Career wise.” You sighed.

“The demands of the industry is always changing. And in my opinion, a linguistics degree is less narrowed than a specific science degree, for example.” He shrugged. You nodded your head, he did make sense.

“And in our company, we do deal with foreign partners so having someone like you on hand would be useful.” Hoseok added on. Maybe now, there was a purpose for you to pick a major.

“But of course, that shouldn’t be your reason to pick the major.” Taehyung said, as if he knew what you were thinking.

~~

Series Masterlist

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Vegas, Baby - Part III

Kim Taehyung (V) X Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Accidental Marriage!AU

Summary: They say what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. What happens when there's a little more legality to it than that?

Warnings: Explicit Language, Mean housekeepers >:(, Tae's kind of a boob. If I forgot anything please let me know!

Words: 3.6k [Sorry it's shorter :'(]

“So let me get this straight,” Lily said, pushing her hair off her face.

“Vante is a mafia member who accidentally got drunk with you last night, you two got married, and now you want us to lie to your parents and tell them that you got a job opportunity here and are staying with us? While you go who knows where?”

“Yes,” Taehyung said.

“Yes...” you said in an equally soft voice.

“I’m calling the cops on you motherfucker!” Jessi growled, flipping Taehyung off before walking for her phone.

“It won’t do you any good, I’ve got members in the police force here,” Taehyung said.

“You don’t scare me dickwad,” Jessi snarled out.

“That is an unwise decision,” Taehyung grit out, looking at Jessi unimpressed.

“Okay, guys. Listen-”

You were promptly cut off.

“No, Y/N, you listen. Do you honestly expect us to do this? Lie to your family while we have no idea where you are or what you are doing? Do you really think so little of us that you expect us to be your little cronies?” Lily gaped.

You were about to start in again when Taehyung stopped you.

“I know something that is pretty universally accepted,” Taehyung said, pulling his wallet out and taking out several hundred dollar bills. “How much?”

SMACK!

Lily had tears in her eyes.

“How dare you,” she warned, a dangerous look crossing over her face.

“Lily,” you whispered.

She wasn’t the violent one. It was always Jessi ready to throw down at a moments notice. He really pissed her off.

No.

He really hurt her.

“Get out of here,” she said to Taehyung.

“But-”

“Y/N, don’t push me,” Lily stated.

You shut your mouth and looked down at your feet. You knew this was a bad idea, but it was the only option that would keep your parents safe. This had to work, you had to convince them.

Taehyung smirked and rubbed his cheek lightly.

“Fine, I’ll be waiting for you in the car,” he said to you.

Walking out the door, the girls circled you.

“So, you’re married huh? Where’s the proof,” Jessi asked, looking at your ring finger.

“Here,” you said, pulling the license out of your purse.

The two of them looked at it, googling fraudulent marriage licenses for proof.

“It’s authentic, the seal at the bottom confirms it,” Lily said quietly.

“So, how are you going to fix this?” Jessi asked you.

“I don’t know. I really am lost and... And I messed up our girls week... I’m so sorry,” you whimpered.

“Don’t, don’t pity yourself right now. You’re in deep shit, you got that? You gotta be strong,” Lily stated.

“You’re right,” you said, wiping the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes.

“So, you got married. Legally, might I add. To a mafia member?” Lily looking at you for confirmation.

“That’s what he said,” you said.

“Y/N, he could be a lunatic. Don’t take everything that he says like it’s law, you might be able to weasel your way out of this,” Jessi said, looking down at the paperwork.

“Just ask for an annulment,” Lily said.

“I’d have to wait three days. My parents have already called me four or five times. Expecting me back home!” you cried.

“Listen, if anyone can find a way out of this, it’s you. I believe in you,” Lily soothed, brushing your hair from your face.

“Okay, I asked him earlier if I could get an annulment, and he said that there’s no way. He said that stray members of the mafia would come looking for me and my family, trying to get to him. What if he’s telling the truth? I don’t wanna risk it,” you said.

“Like I said, you can’t take what he says at face value. You barely know the guy. He could easily be lying,” Jessi commented.

“But what if he isn’t? What if this is all true, Jessi? I can’t take that chance, not with my family. Not with you guys,” you warned.

The girls sighed and looked at you.

“You have to play along then. Be his wife, do what he says. If he really is serious and there is a threat to your family and us, then, being with him will solve the problem for now. We will continue to work on getting you out of there. But for the time being, tell your parents that you’re staying with us and looking to get a visa to work here for a while. Just to have a little freedom,” Lily explained.

“Okay,” you said.

“And Y/N, you call us if anything goes sideways. You let us know the second something smells fishy and we’ll get you out of there,” Jessi said.

“Okay. Yeah, I can do that,” you answered.

“Alright. We’ll get your stuff ready,” Lily said, heading toward the spare room.

Jessi sat out with you and made small talk, but honestly you were too stunned to even process what she was saying. Was this real? What if he was a lunatic and was planning on murdering you?

But he had several opportunities to harm you during the day, and he hadn’t. So, perhaps there was some decency in this man.

Lily came back with your suitcase and a couple of other small bags.

“I love you girl, be careful,” Lily said, hugging you tightly.

“I love you too. Both of you,” you whispered, hugging back just as tight.

“Alright quit hogging her, my turn!” Jessi whined, coming forward and wrapping you in a tight hug.

The girls brought your stuff out to the car and loaded it up. Taehyung was still in the driver's side, looking at you with mute interest.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you whispered, going for the passenger side.

“Listen asshole, you hurt our Y/N, and you’ll have hell to pay,” Jessi warned.

“You don’t scare me,” Taehyung sneered.

“That is an unwise decision,” Lily mocked.

Taehyung just huffed and put the car in gear and headed out towards the road. Taehyung was silent and you just settled in, already feeling your eyes drooping from the exhaustion settling in your bones.

Taehyung turned on some music, but it was already fading into the background as you were lulled into sleep.

--

You were awoken by someone shaking your shoulder.

You jumped up and saw Taehyung looking at you. It was much darker than when you had fallen asleep.

“We’re here,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out. You nodded and got out, fully ready to see a basic house setup when you got out. But... What you were greeted with exceeded your wildest expectations.

A huge mansion stood before you. Cut out of the finest stones you’d ever seen. It was gorgeous. Large bushes surrounded the property that seemed to expand on for ages. But the most beautiful thing was a large greenhouse that sat detached from the rest of the building. You could already tell it housed the most beautiful flowers and plants from around the world.

“T-Taehyung,” you stammered, looking ahead in bewilderment.

“Yes?” he asked, sounding slightly too smug for your liking.

“What is this?” you asked.

“Home,” he said, tossing his keys to a man in a black suit before walking down the pathway towards the house.

“Hold on!” you squeaked, heading after him.

“Now, Y/N, the staff here at home have already been alerted to our predicament. But my parents aren’t to know, your friends and my staff are the only ones who know the truth. And, well, us of course. But, you aren’t to tell anyone that you aren’t my wife. You are to play the role, and I will provide for everything you may need,” he told you.

“Who are you?” you squeaked, looking over at Taehyung in shock.

“I’m exactly who I said I was. I’m Kim Taehyung, member of the mafia,” he said, avoiding your question.

“What rank are you in the mafia?” you asked, moving slowly behind him.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to Y/N,” Taehyung warned, not turning back.

“Tell me,” you urged, standing still.

Sighing, Taehyung turned around and looked you dead in the eyes.

“I am the head of the Mafia in Korea, I’ve been living in the states for at least three years. I’m working on missions here in the US to help out my brothers here. The US and Korea have been working closely together the last couple of years. But there’s always to goody two shoes in law enforcement making trouble,” he smiled.

You scoffed.

“Yeah, it’s the members of law enforcement that are making the trouble,” you said.

“Don’t be too quick to pick a side, Y/N,” Taehyung stated.

“What do you mean?” you asked, moving to stand next to him.

“Mr. Kim!” a shrill voice opened the door. She stood approximately five feet off the ground. Maybe a little more. She wore a black dress that reached just above the floor. It had gold buttons pinning it together. It looked expensive, the way it flowed off her shoulders. But her face, she looked as though she was at least in her sixties. Maybe older. But she didn’t appear to be pleased.

Taehyung visibly stiffened. You looked at him with curiosity, what had him so riled. Even a slap didn’t aggravate him earlier. But this had him putting up his back like no one's business.

“Ah, there might be one more person who isn’t happy about our union. You had Jessi and Lily... I have, Mrs. Blight,” he sighed. You raised a brow but followed him forward.

“And what kind of hour do you call this Taehyung?” she said so plainly.

“I call it,” he looked at his watch, “eight thirty.”

“Don’t be so quick to be sarcastic little tiger, I will beat your rear end so hard that you won’t sit for three weeks!” she smirked.

“As if you could reach it,” he scoffed, moving to walk in.

“Who is the girl?” she asked, unfazed by his insult.

“My wife, I thought everyone was updated. You’re slowing down old girl,” he smiled.

“Taehyung, she’s an outsider. We can’t trust her. Kill her,” she demanded.

Your blood ran cold, looking at her with shock. She said it so plainly. As if your life was forfeit in this matter. As if you were just an insect under her shoe, something to be squashed and dealt with quickly.

“Mrs. Blight, if I kill her, then the other mafia bosses will think I have no principals. It’s immature to kill your wife, especially an accidental one. How will they view me if I create a problem and take care of it in that manner?” he reasoned.

“I don’t care, she will go to Jeon Jungkook. She will sell you out,” Mrs. Blight accused.

“I don’t think so, Mrs. Blight,” he said, already climbing the staircase.

“You are so quick to turn your back on this problem? I thought you said you were to handle this in a mature fashion,” she scoffed.

“Ah, Y/N, this is Mrs. Blight. The keeper of this house, she served my parents when they lived here and will serve us while we live here, if there is something you need. See to it she is the one you ask,” Taehyung smirked.

“T-That’s okay, I don’t think-”

“I serve the master of this house, and him only. You, are inconsequential,” she waved you off dismissively.

“Mrs. Blight. She is my equal in this house. You are to serve her as you serve me. That is an order,” he said icily.

“Taehyung-”

“Mrs. Blight. Do I remind you who is incharge in this house?” he asked, turning toward her, a glare in his eyes.

“No, Master Taehyung,” she gritted out.

“Good. Now, Y/N hasn’t had dinner. Please make sure that hyung prepares her something good to eat,” he said, turning toward the stairs once more.

“Taehyung,” you said softly, looking up at him. He raised a brow and looked at you with curiosity.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Y-You haven’t eaten either,” you said.

Mrs. Blight scoffed.

“Pretending you care will get you nowhere in this house,” she snarled.

“I’m not pretending,” you bit back. Surprised at yourself you looked at Taehyung. He was smiling.

“I haven’t but I will call hyung and have him bring me something in my study. You are free to move about this house Y/N, except for my study and my room. You have your own room that I will see is prepared for you. If you need anything else, let Mrs. Blight know,” he smiled and turned before heading off.

“Come along,” Mrs. Blight said, heading off.

You followed quickly, then remembered your bags in the car.

“Wait! My stuff is still-”

“It’ll be brought to your room, now do shut up, your mere voice is trying my patience,” she said, stalking down the hallway at a pace that was remarkable for someone of her age. Her black dress billowed out past her, creating a smoke like effect when she walked. You remained silent behind her, but kept looking around the house.

The floors were marble, beautifully carved. You watched the veins that ran through them.

Then it all hit you.

He was telling you the truth.

You had married a mafia boss. A powerful, rich and dangerous man. Who had dangerous people after him. This wasn’t going to be the comfortable life he promised, you already knew that there was going to be something that glitched in the system. You felt dread pile in your stomach like bricks, and suddenly you weren’t so hungry.

Walking into the kitchen, there was a tall man at the stove, cooking what smelled to be like a steak.

“Seokjin, there is someone here you need to meet,” Mrs. Blight said, pulling out a stool for you.

Sitting down quickly, you stared at the countertop in silence.

“One moment, the steak is almost ready for Master Taehyung,” he said.

“You need to meet the new Mistress of this house,” she said, venom enlacing in her tone.

“Oh!” he said, turning around and looking at you with interest.

“Um... hi?” you said awkwardly.

“Hello!” he said, smiling brightly at you. His teeth were pearly white, and straight as an arrow. You marveled at the perfection that was this man. He was tall, broad shouldered and stood with such grace it made you want to faint.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, holding your hand out.

“Lady Y/N, how nice,” he smiled, taking your hand and shaking gently, but firm.

“You don’t have to say Lady Y/N, that’s not necessary,” you said.

Mrs. Blight snorted and looked in the other direction. Seokjin frowned but sighed.

“It’s part of my job, as the Mistress of this house you have a title. I must call you by that title, Taehyungie would kill me if I miss addressed you,” he said.

“But you just called him Taehyungie and not Master Taehyung,” you pointed out.

“Freudian slip,” he smirked.

“That’s not-”

“Oh the steak!” he said, rushing towards the stove and plating the meat. A server came in and took the meal once it was all set. Seokjin was quick to come back to you.

“What can I make for you?” he asked.

“Um, I-uh,” you stammered.

“Good lord, just make her a salad or something. That’s what girls these days eat,” she waved you off.

Anger simmered underneath the surface, but you kept yourself in check. She was purposefully taunting you. Wanting you to snap so she could go and whimper to Taehyung.

“Actually, I’d like some pasta if you have any?” you asked, looking forward to the carbs.

“Pasta! As if you need to gain any more weight!”

“Mrs. Blight! Hold your tongue, she looks lovely, and I will make her as much pasta as she wants,” he smiled, already getting started.

She simply turned up her nose and headed out the door.

“Don’t mind her,” Seokjin started.

“Huh?” you said, turning to look at him.

“Oh, Mrs. Blight. She worries about Taehyung. Has ever since he was a kid. He gets into a lot of trouble. And she worries that something is going to happen to him. And we were all kinda shocked when he said he’d be bringing his wife home with him,” he explained.

“Well, it’s kind of a shock for both of us too,” you said.

“I bet,” he answered.

You two sat in silence while he cooked, you simply watched him work. The kitchen was large, inhabiting a large island in the middle at which you were sat. Seokjin worked around the two stoves on the other side of the kitchen, swirling and sampling, cooking you up a feast.

Soon, you watched as he placed a perfectly cooked fettuccine alfredo in front of you.

“There you are, I hope you like it,” he said, looking bashful.

“Seokjin, it smells amazing,” you smiled.

“Well thank you, give it a try,” he encouraged, leaning on the counter.

Digging in you almost moaned when the food hit your tastebuds. It was so creamy, so rich that it made you salivate. It was so delicious your stomach growled. Seokjin just laughed and patted you on the shoulder.

“Eat up,” he said, going to clean up the kitchen.

As you ate, Seokjin told you about the house.

“The groundsman, Mr. Illich is a tender sort of fellow. He’s sensitive, and I think he likes the roses more than my beauty, which is absurd. I am much more handsome than a blooming rose, don’t you think Lady Y/N?” he asked, turning to look at you.

In something of a food coma, you just nodded at him sleepily.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed, coming and taking your empty plate and putting it in the sink to clean it later.

“I’m tired,” you said, rubbing your eyes.

“I’m sure, you’ve had quite the day, let me call Mrs. Blight, she will take you to your room,” he said, heading towards the phone.

You blinked sleepily at the window, when you were certain there was a shadow that passed over the window.

The fear you’d felt earlier in the week creeped back in, your back tensing up and your legs shaking lightly. You were about to say something when you felt a hand placed on your shoulder.

You jumped, nearly falling off the stool when Seokjin looked at you in confusion.

“Are you alright?” he asked, looking at your slightly damp brow.

“Y-yes, I’m fine,” you said, swallowing thick.

“Okay, if you say so,” he said.

Mrs. Blight walked in, her black dress fanning around her.

“Come this way, I will show you to your room,” she said, turning her back and starting to walk down the hallway.

You waved to Seokjin and ran after her.

For an old lady she was pretty quick.

You followed her up a huge staircase that looked like it was out of a movie. Iron and marble met to create a beautiful railing that went up the sides and down the middle. The bottom fanned out like a lava pool at your feet. You gaped only for a moment, hurrying to catch up to Mrs. Blight. But you looked at the expensive portraits that were hung from the walls and the tapestries that had to be antiques. The whole building screamed extravagance. The curtains were thick and velvety to the touch.

“Hurry up,” Mrs. Blight demanded, walking towards a room at the end of the hall.

You did as she said and hurried, meeting her at the door a moment later.

“This is your room, your things are inside. Good night,” she said, moving to walk away.

“Wait,” you called out.

You could see her shoulders physically tense as she turned to face you again.

“Yes?” she asked, trying to hold back her scowl.

“Where is Taehyung’s room?” you asked.

She didn’t hold back her grimace this time.

“Why do you wish to know? Huh? Just so you can sneak in there and try to harm him! Or even better, so that you can divulge the layout of our home to the police? I won’t tell you,” she said.

“It was just a question, he said not to go in there. I wanted to know what to avoid,” you explained.

“A likely tale,” she scoffed.

“It’s the truth, whether you believe it or not is up to you,” you said softly.

She froze at this. Staying stock still in the middle of the hallway. You held your breath, ready for another slew of insults, but they never came.

“His room is at the end of the next hallway over. Please, do ensure you don’t go in there,” she said. “His study is at the bottom of the stairs, first door on the left.”

And with that, she was gone.

You opened your door and were shocked at the size of the room in front of you. You had a four postered bed, covered in what you could only assume to be satin sheets. You looked down at them and let your hand run over the fabric. It was cool to the touch, making you shiver lightly.

But you continued on. There was a beautiful vanity painted white in the far corner of the room. You looked and saw that your makeup bag was placed there neatly, with your hair appliances as well. There was an open door that lead to your ensuite bathroom. You tried not to squeal at the thought of your very own bathroom, but you kept your cool. Looking at the jacuzzi tub and glass shower in the corners. You wanted desperately to take a shower, but it was already so late. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Your legs carried you to the bed, where you nestled under the blankets and slowly, fell asleep.

Taglist: @ladyartemesia and @infernal-alpaca

Vegas Baby - Part IV

Pairing: Kim Taehyung (V) X Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Accidental Marriage!AU, Romance, Smut (Future)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Explicit language, kinda unwanted advances (it's nothing too bad I promise just be aware), cuteness (if I forgot anything please let me know!)

Words: 4.3k

Summary: They say what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. What happens when there’s a little more legality to it than that?

The next couple of days passed uneventfully.

Besides a harsh wringing from your mother for not telling her sooner, about being in Vegas longer, she let it go with her blessing.

You felt terrible for lying to her, but it was the very thing that would keep her safe.

Taehyung had eluded you. But that was fine by you, every time you were in his presence it only brought confusion. But you found the library fairly fast, making it your little hang out spot shortly after. If anyone wanted to find you, you’d be there, reading.

It was on your fourth day at the house that a knock came to the library door, something you hadn’t been expecting. You walked over and opened the door to see Taehyung standing there. You looked at him warily, but opened it further to let him in.

“I came to see how you were settling in,” he said, looking at the book you were reading with interest.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said, folding your arms over your chest.

“Hmm, you like to read I’ve been told. Mrs. Blight says you leave here to eat and sleep,” he said.

“I do like to read, but I didn’t have time for it much when I was working,” you said.

“Well, you have nothing but time now. Read as much as you want,” he smiled.

“What do you want?” you asked, knowing that he wasn’t here for the reason he said.

“How brutal, I can’t see my wife to see how she’s doing?” he asked, holding his hand to his chest in mock offense.

“You can, but if you wanted to see how I was doing you would’ve done it sooner, not four days later,” you explained.

“Smart, you are observant,” he smirked.

“I like to know what’s going on around me,” you explained.

“To tell you the truth, my dear friend, Min Yoongi, wants to meet you. I’ve never been public with women before. And now to say that I’ve married, well... He isn’t pleased, but he wants to have a meal, tonight, with him and his friend Jimin. They’re good people, Jimin is a flirt, and Yoongi is a hard ass, but, they mean well,” he stated.

“Okay,” you said easily.

“You can decline, I can tell them you weren’t feeling well or something to that effect,” he offered.

“It would be weird for me to fall ill the night they want to meet me, plus, I’m going to have to meet people eventually, no point in avoiding it,” you stated.

Taehyung seemed slightly taken aback, but the moment you noticed it, it was gone.

“Very good, I will send for the car,” he informed.

“What?” you asked, looking at him for clarification.

“We’re going shopping,” he said, as if it were obvious.

“What?” you said again.

“We’re going shopping, I’m sorry to say, but the clothes you wear here will simply not do. Although I am impartial to the little bargain end dress we met in, it won’t impress anyone,” he said.

“I don’t have any money,” you squeaked out.

“You expected to pay for it?” he asked, turning.

“Well, I-”

“Listen to me, I promised you a life of comfort. You won’t want for anything under this roof. I will get you whatever you desire, shoes, clothes, jewels,” he said.

“Books will suffice,” you smiled.

“But the others will be necessary,” he reminded.

“Okay, let’s go,” you said, grabbing your book and walking towards the door.

“So ready for adventure, I like that,” he said, walking beside you.

“You think shopping is an adventure?” you asked, turning to look at him.

“Well, since I’m not a professional at female clothing, I did enlist the help of one of my dear friends, Yeri, she doesn’t know we accidentally got married, so play the role. She’s clingy, and very girly, but has a good heart. She’ll get us the things we need,” he said.

“Yeri,” you said, sampling her name on your tongue.

Walking out the front door you saw a large SUV parked with a driver at the ready. Taehyung took your hand and interwove your fingers together, helping you into the back.

Shortly, the two of you were on your way.

The ride went quickly, and soon the two of you were in the front of a very large shopping mall. But this one was much different from the one that you, Jessi and Lily had gone to earlier. This was full of designer stores, you could tell because the CHANEL sign almost made you faint.

“Are you alright?” Taehyung asked, looking at you.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you commented.

“Here she comes, show time,” he said, taking your hand again and heading towards Yeri.

“Vante!” she smiled, wrapping her arms around Taehyung’s neck and hugging him.

“Hi, Yeri,” he said. You wondered briefly why she called him Vante, but didn’t question it. You merely went along with it.

“And the woman of the hour!” Yeri smiled, but you could tell she was examining you. The way you walked, how you acted and the very perfume you’d put on this morning. It was all an ant under a microscope for her, but you curled into Taehyung’s side and smiled at her brightly.

“Yeri, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m-”

“Y/N!” she smiled, and showed off her almost too perfect teeth. “Of course, Vante wouldn’t tell me of you until after you were married! Typical him, but come on! I want to put you in everything these stores have to offer!” she said, dragging you forward towards the mall.

Taehyung was close behind, smirking the whole way.

When Yeri said she wanted to put you in everything, she wasn’t lying. One store you swear she had you try things on twice!

But when it came down to the accessories, you were lost.

“So what do I pair with the Chanel bag you picked out in the last store?” you asked as she scoped along the racks of scarves, bags and other items while you trudged along behind her.

Taehyung managed to stick with the pair of you fairly well, going up to the counter when it was time to pay, making sure you didn’t look at the prices.

He told you it didn’t matter anyway.

“Obviously you pair it with those heels we got from versace. Or the ones from Gucci, although that would be a bolder pairing,” she said, grabbing random scarves, accessories and the like and throwing them at you.

“She’ll tire herself out, eventually,” Taehyung said, moving to grab a couple of the things she’d thrown at you.

“She’s so fast,” you whined.

“Yeah, but you’re not too fast either,” he smirked.

You pushed his shoulder, making him chuckle. When you turned back, Yeri was looking at the two of you, a soft smile on her face. It didn’t seem forced like the one she gave you earlier, it seemed... Genuine.

“Alright,” she said, after a while of throwing accessories at you.

“Are we done yet?” you asked, looking at Taehyung.

“We just have to be done in time for you to go home and get ready, I cleared my schedule for you today,” he smiled. It was big and boxy, like a little kids. It made your heart clench in your chest for a moment before Yeri was linking her arm with you.

“Well, that just means we have time to spend more money,” Yeri smirked.

She was also testing Taehyung. Although he wasn’t as easily shaken as you.

“Go for it, whatever my baby wants,” he said, smiling.

“Are you sure Vante? I don’t want you to go broke just to humor me,” you said.

“Do you really not know how loaded your husband is? Well, and you by association,” Yeri said.

“I have an idea, but we never really talk finances,” you said, stumbling over your words lightly.

“It’s a lot to take in,” she said.

“Yes, well. It’s almost time Yeri, Y/N needs at least two hours to get ready before dinner with Yoongi and JImin,” Taehyung said, looking at her handful of bags.

“Alright, just one more store and then I promise we’ll be done,” she said. You nodded, following Yeri dutifully down the escalator.

Taehyung came up behind you and took your hand, interlacing your fingers. You smiled and continued down. Yeri spotted the two of you and gave your hands a look.

“How did you two decide upon those rings?” she asked, looking at them with unhindered disgust.

“These are just placement rings until we decide which ones we want for the final piece,” Taehyung said smoothly.

“Well, then no better time than the present to find the ones you want. Come on, Dad’s store is just down the way,” she said, leading the pair of you to the shops.

You walked into a vintage looking jewelry shop. The walls were a rich emerald, and the drapes and deep plum, but what caught your eye was the kind man behind them, working at polishing a ring that was set in his palm.

“Daddy!” Yeri cried, running forward and embracing the older man.

“Hello my flower, how are you?” he said, brushing the stray strands of hair from her face.

“Doing good, but we have an emergency,” she said seriously.

Her father keyed in.

“Yes, what would that be?” he asked, looking at her.

“Vante and Y/N need wedding rings!” she squealed.

He rolled his eyes, but smiled anyways.

“Alright flower, calm down. I will help them. Vante, my boy, you look scrawnier, have you been eating enough?” he asked, coming over to pat Taehyung on the shoulder.

“Yes Mr. Wing. My wife makes sure of that,” he smiled, bringing you into his side.

“I see, very good then. Well Mrs. Kim, come look at our selection,” he said, gently putting his hand on the small of your back, leading you away from Taehyung. You perused the selection, not finding anything really of interest. It was all either too gaudy or too basic, too many jewels or not enough. If this was going to be your wedding ring, you wanted it to be perfect, even if the marriage was an accident...

“Vante, have you found one you like?” you asked, looking at him.

“Perhaps, but I want one that matches yours,” he said, looking down at the assortment before the two of you.

“Let’s start with the basics, do you want silver? Tungsten or platinum, white gold, rose gold or yellow gold? What do you think would suit you best?” Mr. Wing asked.

“I think... White gold?” you asked, looking at Taehyung for approval.

He smiled and patted you on your shoulders.

“Whatever you want darling, tell me and it’s yours,” he declared.

“You guys are gross, you know that?” Yeri complained.

“Can I see some white gold settings?” you asked. Mr. Wing nodded and brought some out. You looked and didn’t see anything. Until, in the corner of the case, a closed box seemed to call out to you.

“What is it Y/N?” Yeri asked, following your eye line.

“What’s in that box?” you asked, looking at Mr. Wing.

“Ah, well... It’s the oldest ring in my possession. It’s from 1912, and it is a floral design. Would you like to see it?” he asked, moving toward it.

You nodded numbly, and watched with rapt interest.

He opened the box and it’s like it clicked in your head. This was your ring. You knew it.

“Can I try it on?” you asked, looking at him sheepishly.

“Of course! Of course,” he said, coming over and handing the ring to you.

Turning around you looked at Taehyung.

“Mind doing the honors?” you asked, holding the ring out for him. Something flickered in Taehyung’s eyes, but you let it slide, and held out your hand.

He took the ring and then looked at you. With a soft smile, he placed the ring on your finger. A perfect fit.

“Well would you look at that. It’s never fit anyone before. At least, not anyone who has come in here,” Mr. Wing said.

“Oh Y/N! It’s beautiful!” Yeri cooed, coming over to look at the ring with you.

“Is it the winner?” Taehyung asked.

“Yes,” you smiled.

“Yeri, help me pick out one that matches?” Taehyung asked, looking through the case. You stared at the ring and smiled, touching it gingerly.

“You know,” Mr. Wing started, “the last woman who wore that ring, was my grandmother,” he smiled.

Gasping, you moved to take it off. “I’m so sorry,” you stammered, trying to get the ring off.

“No no,” he said, holding your hands.

“But I-”

“I put the ring up here and wanted people to see it. To see the craftsmanship that goes into these things, but I never put it up for sale. I told people I could make a replica, or something similar, but never the real thing,” he explained.

“So, why me?” you asked.

“Because, you remind me of my grandmother. So confident, yet unsure. Fiery, yet gentle. Kind, above everything else,” he stated.

“But you hardly know me,” you said softly.

“Ah, but your eyes. Your eyes tell me everything. And I saw the way you looked at that ring. It’s the one,” he smiled.

“Are you sure, I really don’t want to take a family heirloom from you,” you said.

“I would not part with it if I were not ready, and now, I am. Please, take it,” he said, patting your hands comfortingly.

“Y/N! Vante found one!” Yeri’s voice rang out.

“Oh yeah? Let me see,” you said, walking over.

Taehyung had a simple white gold band with a large diamond in the middle molded into the setting. It looked like the ring was trying to swallow the diamond. But the beauty of the stone shone through. You smiled. It was perfect for him.

“I love it,” you nodded, looking at Taehyung with happiness written across your features.

“I’m glad,” Taehyung said, moving to go pay for them. When Mr. Wing surprised you yet again.

“No charge my boy,” Mr. Wing said.

“But Mr. Wing, I can’t just walk off with thousands of dollars worth of goods. That’s not good business,” he said, taking his wallet out.

“It isn’t good business, but it is good friendship. The way your wife looks with that ring is payment enough, and knowing my grandmother’s ring will be well taken care of, well, that’s just extra isn’t it?” he said, a smile creeping across his features.

“Vante, you two are going to be late for dinner!” Yeri warned, pointing at the clock.

“It appears you don’t have time to argue,” Mr. Wing said, smiling.

“This isn’t over,” Taehyung warned, no real malice in his voice.

But Mr. Wing smiled and waved as the three of you exited the shop, new rings on hands.

“It really is lovely Y/N, I know my great grandmother would be pleased you have it,” she smiled.

“Thanks Yeri, that means a lot,” you said, genuine.

“Well, I’m off. Thanks for a day of shopping Vante, and Y/N, if he bullies you, call me,” she said, handing you her number. “He’s got a thick head and can be a bit of an asshole, but don’t let that dissuade you,” she said softly.

“It hasn’t yet,” you reminded.

“It’s early,” she smirked, heading down the street. You took Taehyung’s hand.

“Do you think she caught on?” you asked, looking at him.

“Maybe. She’s smart, smarter than people give her credit for. Anyways, get your stuff in the car, we gotta get going, dinner is at seven o’clock sharp!” he said, climbing into the back.

“You aren’t gonna help me?” you asked, raising a brow.

“David, get her bags in the back please,” Taehyung said.

You watched as a man came from the passenger side seat and carried all your things to the back, while Taehyung watched you from behind his sunglasses.

“Get in,” he said, holding his hand out to you.

You grabbed his and got in, ready for the rest of the day.

--

You and Taehyung were dressed to the nines. You were in a knee length powder blue dress, with dark navy heels to match. Taehyung was wearing a powder blue dress shirt with black slacks. The two of you strutted into the restaurant, smiles on your faces.

You thought back to what Taehyung had said in the car...

“They’re going to try to get you to betray me, in any way possible. They’ll use money, threats, whatever to get you to show your ‘true’ self. They hate that I married you, because they couldn’t control it. But, don’t let their little jabs go, give it back to them, tenfold if you have to. They can take it, they’ve had much worse.”

You sat down first, looking across the table to see the two most handsome men you’d ever seen.

One, was wearing a red velvet blazer, a black diamond rose pin on his breast. The next was wearing a white blazer, with a bright purple pin to accentuate his skin. They were both breathtaking.

Taehyung sat down next to you, smiling at the two men.

“Jimin.” Red jacket man.

“Yoongi.” White jacket man.

“This is my wife, Y/N,” he said, introducing you to them.

You bowed your head slightly, looking up at them through your lashes.

Jimin was handsome. Lush lips that looked ready for a kiss at any moment, and Yoongi had eyes that could stun a horse still. He, was also very handsome.

“So this is who you married Taehyung-ah?” Jimin said, looking at you up and down. You coughed lightly and tried to hide your embarrassment.

“Yes, this is my wife,” he said again, tone remaining level.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you said, trying to keep as calm as Taehyung.

“Well, at least she has manners,” Yoongi sighed.

“How about her family? Wealthy members of the circuit I’m presuming?” Jimin said, taking a sip of his water.

“No, she’s an outsider actually. New to the circuit,” Taehyung said, looking at the menu with interest.

Jimin choked on his water and started coughing harshly. A waiter came over to ensure he was alright, and you had handed him a cloth to dab his mouth with.

“A-An outsider?” Jimin asked.

“That’s what I said, yes,” Taehyung confirmed.

“And you just, married her, because...?” Yoongi asked, looking at him.

“Because I love her. She’s very loyal to the people she cares about, and she loves to learn and to grow, and, she’s smart,” he smiled, looking at you and taking your hand. You smiled back, rubbing your thumb over his fingers.

“How did you two meet?” Jimin asked, calming down.

“At his club,” you said, truthfully.

“Ah, yes, where hookers, cheats and liars frequent,” Yoongi stated.

“It’s also where Taehyung frequents, are you telling me he’s a cheat and a liar?” you asked, looking at Yoongi.

He scowled and continued looking at his menu.

Taehyung squeezed your hand.

‘Good job’

“What looks good to you darling?” Taehyung asked, peering over their drink menu.

“Maybe the house special, I don’t know. Jimin, what are you looking at?” you asked, wanting to include the other man.

“Well, the bluefin tuna is excellent here. I might get that,” he said, staring directly at you.

You coughed in discomfort and continued looking at the menu.

The waiter came by and took everyone’s orders, bringing a bottle of wine to the table as well. You all took a sample and decided it was the one you wanted, so he set it down and said he’d be back with your food when it was ready.

“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” Yoongi asked, arms crossed over his front.

“I worked in a financial firm for about four years, but, recently was let go,” you said, keeping some of the truth to yourself.

“I see, so you’re currently mooching off of Taehyung then?” Jimin asked, just as simply as Yoongi had.

“Jimin,” Taehyung warned.

“What? Is that not what she’s doing? Not contributing, taking two slices of one pie? How else would you like me to put it Taehyung?” Jimin said.

“I’d like for you to remember that your previous girlfriend didn’t have a job either, so maybe don’t be so quick to judge my wife when you had a partner of a similar background,” he growled.

Taehyung seemed genuinely angry at that comment, but you just sighed and took another sip of wine.

Tonight was going to be a long one.

The food came and everyone started eating. The jabs didn’t stop, but you returned with your own fire, and gave them a run for their money.

After three glasses of wine, you felt the urge to use the restroom.

“I’ll be right back,” you said to Taehyung who nodded, finishing up his meal as well.

Walking into the bathroom you dabbed some more powder on, checked your lipstick and used the restroom. After washing your hands and spraying some perfume on yourself, you walked out, only to run into-

“Jimin?” you asked, looked at the man before you.

“Hello, Y/N,” he said, smiling.

This was odd, and it already reeked of mischief.

“Can I help you with something?” you asked, looking at him with curiosity.

“Yes, I believe you can,” he said, coming forward to trap you against the door.

“Um, how is this going to help you?” you asked, looking at him uncomfortably.

“You’re very beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice sounding like silk against your ear.

“Thank you,” you squeaked, trying not to do something awkward.

“But, it’s a shame that you’re with Taehyung... But, he wouldn’t need to know about, one little kiss would he?” he asked, playing with your bottom lip with his thumb.

Your mind set off red alerts.

‘They will try to get you to betray me.’

Taehyung’s words echoed in your mind.

Jimin was getting closer.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him right?” he said, his breath fanning against your face.

“Jimin, stop,” you said firmly, putting your hands against his chest.

He scoffed, but backed up as you asked. Just as you were about to move away, he gripped your wrist and pulled you back against his chest.

“I can give you what you want,” he promised, head resting against your shoulder.

Just like Taehyung had done with you the night you’d met.

“I found what I wanted,” you said, moving away once more.

A tsking sound came from behind you, as Jimin started to follow.

“Alright, I didn’t peg you for this type of girl, but I guess it’s the ultimate persuader. How much do you want?” he asked, pulling out his wallet.

SMACK

Just as Lily had done to Taehyung earlier, you glared at Jimin fiercely.

“If you think I can be bought, you are fooling yourself. My love for Taehyung has no price,” you stated.

Jimin sighed and came closer once again, rubbing his cheek.

“You should’ve taken the offers deary, because now, I won’t be nearly as nice,” he said.

“You can threaten me, but I know Taehyung will never let anything happen to me or my family. You have nothing here,” you said, turning to go back to the table.

“He can protect you from me, but can he protect you from everything? Think about it. He’s a mafia member, there are going to be bad deals, people are going to get hurt. Do you really want to stick around to find out if you or your family is going to get caught in the crossfire?” he tried to reason with you.

“Jimin, let me say this plainly. I love Taehyung, he is my family now. I’d like for us to be family as well. But I can’t do that if you don’t trust me to take care of him. He’s been under your protection for a long time, but now, it’s time for him to be under mine,” you said.

Jimin looked at you in disbelief.

You turned and finally walked back to the table.

Yoongi and Taehyung were watching something on his phone when the pair of them looked up. Taehyung came over and smiled, wrapping you up in his arms. You were confused, but the hug was nice.

“What’s all this for?” you asked, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face.

“Yoongi thought it would be nice to watch a video while we waited for you and Jimin to come back. Little did I know that it was a live feed of the security camera outside the women’s bathroom,” Taehyung said, looking at Yoongi with a smirk.

“Oh, so...”

“We saw it,” Yoongi confirmed.

“Ah,” you said, trying not to cringe from the idea.

Jimin returned to the table, sitting down across from you.

Taehyung exchanged a few pleasantries with them, but besides that, the dinner was over.

“Well gentleman, I think it’s time we head home. But thanks for meeting with us,” Taehyung smiled.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Kim,” Yoongi acknowledged.

‘The pleasure was mine,” you smiled.

The two of you began to head back to the house when Taehyung turned around unexpectedly.

“Jimin, if I ever see you near my wife like that again. I’ll shoot you dead,” he said, sounding so calm that it made your skin cover in goosebumps.

You were led out to the awaiting car and Taehyung helped you load in. Taking off your heels you rubbed your feet, but before you could do much else, Taehyung was in your field of view.

“Yes...?” you asked, looking at him with confusion.

“Why didn’t you do it?” he asked.

“Why didn’t I do what?” you asked.

“Why didn’t you kiss Jimin? Why didn’t you do any of that?” he asked.

“Because, I’m married to you. I can’t kiss another man when I’m married to you, that’s wrong. Even if it was an accident, I’m still your wife, I want to honor that,” you said.

Taehyung smiled and leaned back in the seat.

“You’re something else, Y/N, really. You are,” he stated.

Taglist: @infernal-alpaca

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His Most Prized Possession

Pairing || Dark!Mob!Bucky x Wife!Reader

Summary || You’re the wife of the most feared man in all of New York City, James Buchanan Barnes, the mob boss of the biggest mafia in town. Your his—his girl, his beauty, his love, his property, his most prized possession. He will torture and kill anyone who dares to make any advances on his woman, and he won’t hesitate to show them who you belong to in the most sinful way possible before their end…

Word Count || 8876

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut, Angst, Dark Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, slight dub-con, Dark!Jealous!Possessive!Bucky, angry/vicious!Bucky, soft!Bucky, mob/mafia business, mention of drugs/alcohol, violence, implied use of weapons, implied torture, blood, murder, crying, use of force, graphic/explicit content/language, pet names (doll, baby, babe, princess + others), unprotected vaginal sex, exhibition kink, forced voyeurism, daddy kink, spit kink, degradation & praise kink, use of the word whore, dom/sub dynamics, oral (m & f receiving), teasing, begging, face/throat fucking, gagging, fingering, spanking, choking, rough fucking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cum swallowing, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, aftercare.

Authors Note || After a lot of work it’s finally done! I’m so proud of this! Please enjoy this twisted and sinful journey! Feedback would be so much appreciated on this piece <3 I want to know what you think!

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Mob!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

The Underground Lounge

It was the most high-profile club in all of New York City. A place for criminals, the filthy rich, politicians and like-minded people to converge in secrecy for whatever they desire with no repercussions, whether that be alcohol, drugs, women, sex or just a fun time. Everything and anything went down here.

The club was nestled deep below The Blend nightclub, which acted as a cover for the underworld of crime below.

They were both owned by James Buchanan Barnes—Bucky amongst friends and loved ones. The most feared man in all of the city and the mob boss of the biggest and baddest mafia in town. He was also your husband. Your dangerous, vicious and sexy husband.

You and Bucky would usually be at the club on the weekends for some party and fun, which you were right now.

The VIP area that was only reserved for Bucky and company was slightly elevated over the rest of the club—giving Bucky the best view to look over his domain. It also showed the guests that they were nothing compared to the boss sitting on the high throne. The VIP area had an abundance of seating places—fitting several people. All compacted in a sizeable curved couch with a low circular table in the middle to put drinks on or other substances, for that matter. There was also enough space for Bucky’s security to keep a lookout over the club and its activities.

Today it was only you and Bucky attending. No friends, no other company, except for your security detail.

With a good percentage of alcohol in your system, you and he were all over each other—lips sloppily crashing into one another as you moaned and groaned into each other's mouths and hands roamed both your bodies.

You'd unbuttoned a few buttons of his white long-sleeved shirt—wanting to feel his collarbone and chest underneath your fingertips as you made out. His dark blue velvet dress jacket was tossed to the side long ago. Your other hand rested delicately on top of his covered bulge—palming him ever so often.

Bucky’s hand kept a tight grip on your naked upper thigh; the short little dress you wore barely covered anything, giving him easy access to your skin. His other held your throat gently in his grasp, making it impossible to move away from him not that you wanted to.

Ever so slightly, he inches his way higher up your thigh, hicking your dress up with his moves, as he caressed your delicate skin with his rough hands, making you moan and whimper into his mouth. His end goal was to get into your panties—wanting to force his fingers knuckle-deep into you and have you make a mess all over them.

It wasn't unusual for him and you to get a little naughty together in the club. On multiple occasions, you'd have his fingers deep inside your pussy or straddle his lap to grind yourself on his clothed cock. And occasionally giving him a handjob here and there.

You'd think he would be against having you so exposed to everyone’s prying eyes since he was always so protective and possessive over you in day-to-day life. But on the contrary, he loved showing you off here. It gave him the power to assert his dominance over you and make everyone know that you're his—his girl, his beauty, his love, his property and his most prized possession.

This was his club—his rules—his everything. Everyone knew not to mess with the mob boss's precious wife. Not unless they had a death wish.

Your body tingled in anticipation of having his digits buried deep inside you. You were so ready for it. So needy for it, but… God, did you really have to pee now, urgently.

“Bucky.”

His name came out in a moan rather than a plea for him to stop with his touches, making him think you wanted more. He swiped your damp panties with his thumb while his lips assaulted your neck with licks, kisses and bites, making you whine even more.

“Bucky!”

You placed your hands on his chest, shoving him lightly off you, making him stop with his kisses and retract his hand from under your dress.

“What!”

An annoyed tone was laced in his voice, but that quickly turned into concern as he thought something was wrong.

“What is it, baby?”

His thumb caressed your cheek lovingly as he tried to search your face for any discomfort. There was none, so he didn’t understand why you'd make him stop.

“I just really need to go pee.”

He nodded his head in understanding and was about to call for one of the security to accompany you, but you stopped him before he could.

“No! I can go on my own.”

“Doll…”

He cocked his head to the side. He didn’t like that. He didn’t want you going on your own.

Although the club was a safe space for you to wander around due to everyone knowing who you were and not daring to approach you under any circumstances, Bucky still wanted you looked after due to the reason that occasionally a rouge and unwanted person managed to get into the club, despite the tight security, and cause chaos and bothering the other club patrons. But that rarely happened, and right now, you just wanted to go on your own without having anyone on your tail all the time.

“Please, Bucky,” you pleaded with those puppy-dog eyes you knew he couldn't resist, “if I'm not back in 15 minutes, you can come and find me.”

“Alright, princess,” he pecked your lips, “but hurry back to me, baby,” and once more, “because I need to bury my fingers in your tight little pussy….”

He cupped your core harsh, making you moan out at the roughness. Bucky groaned out as he touched what belonged to him.

“... my tight little pussy.”

He growled in your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand and your core pulsate at his filthy words.

“I’ll be right back, babe.”

You gave him one last peck before you got up and fixed your dress—the material had bundled up your hips entirely. Bucky gave you a light tap on your ass before you walked away in search of the bathroom.

You did your business in the bathroom and freshened up before walking out to the club’s main area.

Bucky hadn't left his positing from the VIP area. His leg was crossed over the other, and his arms rested on the back of the couch while he looked calm and relaxed. You wanted to take advantage of your freedom and decided to get a quick drink at the bar before returning to him.

You made your way to the bar that was settled in the middle of the club while swaying your hips to the music playing. Luckily, the bar wasn't packed, so it should be a quick deal.

You order the drink and make yourself comfortable with your elbows on the bar counter, squeezing your breasts together, almost exposing them entirely. Your ass poked out behind you—the dress so tiny and short that it almost showed your entire ass.

You knew everyone had their eyes on you, thirsting and yearning for you—for something they knew they could never have, and that's what you loved so much about it. In this club, you loved being a little cock-tease to everyone—it made you feel powerful.

While waiting for your drink, you scanned and observed the club’s guests. Most of them you'd seen before and recognised—politicians with their mistresses, criminals making shady deals with each other, and some new faces you'd never seen before. Everyone looked to be in great spirit and having fun tonight.

“My, my… don't you look pretty tonight.”

A deep, smooth voice murmured in your ear, making you jump out of your skin a little at the roughness of it. You thought it was Bucky for a second, but the voice didn’t match quite right. When you spun around, you found yourself caught in an intense gaze by a man. Usually, you'd back away and decline any stranger like that, but something about him just made your whole being scream in need.

The man oozed danger, sex and confidence—all things you loved and had gotten so used to with Bucky. So you couldn't help yourself when you got ensnared in this stranger's trap. You knew you shouldn't talk to this man. Bucky would be pissed if he found out. But Bucky wasn't here right now, and the drink should be done any second, so you decided to play along and then would politely decline once it was time. Bucky would never know.

“Well, hello to you, stranger.”

You batted your eyelashes at him and gave him your most appetising smile and gestures you could muster up, popping your hip out and tilting your head to the side, wanting to play a bit dirty and rile him up.

“My, you're the prettiest little thing in this whole club.”

He came closer, almost pinning you against the bar with his massive frame. He licked his lips as his eyes travelled across your whole body. This man was playing a dangerous game in approaching you like that—intentions clearly sexual.

He presented his hand, and you took it gladly, shaking it.

“The names Roman,” he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it while maintaining eye contact, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Roman?

Roman?

You'd heard that name before, but you couldn't quite put your finger on who he was. It was such an unusual name that you would think with such a name, you'd remember who it belonged to, but your mind was completely blank. It must be the alcohol and the intense surge of sexual energy you were experiencing.

“The pleasure is all mine, Roman,” you gave him your name, which made him smirk when he heard it.

“That's a beautiful name, princess. What brings you to this club, sweet thing?”

“Oh, I-”

The conversation was cut abruptly by someone grabbing Roman’s shoulder and pulling him away from you, turning him to face whoever it was.

You gasped.

Shit. It was Bucky.

His face was stone cold as he stared Roman down with absolute dark rage in his eyes. His fists clenched by his side—knuckles turning white.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Roman?” Bucky spat out while getting all up in his face.

Wait?

Bucky knew him?

Oh…

Oh!

Oh, no…

He was that Roman.

Shit. Now you remember.

He's the man that betrayed Bucky about a year ago and went to be with Bucky’s number one rivals instead. You remember at the time what kind of a toll it had taken on Bucky to be so gruesomely crossed.

This was not good. You felt so horrible and guilty now with the later knowledge of know this man was. How could you have forgotten him? Forgotten what he's done? You should have brushed him off instead of instigating his actions further.

You couldn't hear what they were saying because they were so up in each other's faces, but you could tell that it was a heated argument. You wondered what was being said. What kind of complications and events this would all lead to.

Suddenly, Bucky shoved him hard, and it looked like he would fight him right then and there. But he didn’t…

“You’re fucking dead, Roman,” Bucky uttered through gritted teeth.

Bucky came to your side and grabbed your arm hard. So hard that it hurt, and you winced and tossed to try and get out of his harsh grip, but he wouldn't budge. He pulled you back to the VIP area and ordered you to sit on the couch.

“Don't fucking move.”

His words were like poison, making you flinch at the absolute anger in his voice. Your eyes were becoming glossy—tears threatening to spill at any moment. You wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort.

How could you be so stupid? You should have just said no to Roman instead of acting like a fucking brat and whore—wanting to be a little cock tease for a man that wasn't even your man. You should have just been an obedient little wife and returned to your husband like you were supposed to.

Bucky was furiously talking to one of his men for several minutes. You saw how stressed, angry and fearful his demeanour was. His hand ran through his short hair multiple times. It was rare to see Bucky in this state. He was usually tough and determined, not bothered by what people said and did, and always in control of things. But it looked like Roman had really struck a sensitive nerve—said something that had put Bucky out of check.

When he was done conversing, he came back to you and took your hand, gently this time, and pulled you with him out of the main club area, not saying a thing. It looks like you were leaving. You went through the backdoor that was only used for you and Bucky and a selected few other people.

Once in the elevator, Bucky wrapped a protective arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his torso, still not saying anything. You wanted to say something. To plead for his forgiveness, but you felt awkward doing it in this tight place when you weren't alone. You would try and talk to him in the car when it was just the two of you.

Bucky ushered you into the backseat of the black luxury car, him getting in behind you. You weren't sure where you were going—home, most likely. The screen divider that separated the backseats and driver seat was up, so you were all alone, and you could finally try to talk to him.

“Bucky?”

You tried in a sweet and calm voice.

Nothing.

He pulled his phone out when it pinged with a message. His mouth remained in a thin line, eyebrows furrowed, with no emotions in his eyes as he typed on his phone before placing it inside his jacket.

“Bu-Bucky?”

Your weak voice cracked as his name came out in a sob this time.

“I-I’m so s-sorry. I-I shou-” You sobbed even more, unable to finish your sentence. You were about to cry any second, knowing that Bucky was mad and disappointed in you for being so stupid and reckless. You turned your head away from him, unable to look at his stern face.

“Doll…”

His voice was sweet compared to the poisonous one he used with you in the Underground. You thought he would yell at you once in the car. But it was the opposite. His loving and caring side surfaced—your wonderful husband that loved you beyond words.

“Baby…”

He grabbed your chin with his fingers and turned your head towards his. His eyes held nothing but love and adoration for you—his wife. His heart broke when he saw a few tears roll down your cheeks, your lips quivering.

“P-please d-don't be mad a-at me, Bucky.”

“Oh, baby… come here.”

He pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his strong arms around your waist. His head nuzzled in your neck as he laid tender kisses on the soft skin to try and soothe you,

“Mad at you? No, doll. I could never be mad at you, and I’m sorry it came across that way. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you like that, my sweet love.”

“Bu-but, you seemed s-so angry at me. Angry for what I’d done and who I was talking to. I swear, Bucky, I forgot who he was, and I-I just-”

“Doll.” He made you rest your forehead on his. His piercing blue eyes focused deep into yours—showing you that he spoke the truth. “I’m not mad at you at all. Please don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s not your fault. Not even the slightest, ok? I love you, babydoll.”

“O-ok. I-I love you t-too, Bucky.”

He dried your tears while giving you a warm smile. “My precious girl.” He cradled your face in his hands and laid a light, comforting kiss on your lips. The kiss slowly progressed to a more passionate one—neediness and love poured into it.

The moment was quickly interrupted by Bucky’s phone pinging with a message in his jacket. He groaned as he fished it out to read it. You caught a glimpse and gasped when you saw what it said.

It's done.

You knew what it meant. It was the worst possible outcome following the events that unfolded in the club.

“Is, is he d-dead?”

“No, no, doll. They only questioned him, that's all.” Bucky tried to reassure you.

You knew what questioned meant. It meant that they had beaten the shit out of him, almost to the point of death. And although Bucky spoke the truth that Roman wasn't dead, he would be soon. Bucky never let something like what happened at the club go unpunished—people trying to cross his line. Certainly not when it comes to you. He would torture and kill anyone who made any advances on you, especially when they were fully aware of who you were and belonged to. And Roman most certainly knew what he was doing when he approached you. He wanted to provoke Bucky and test his limits. And now he would pay for it.

Maybe he didn’t think it through enough? Perhaps he thought he was safe because he was under the protection of Bucky’s rivals?

But one should never underestimate Bucky. He didn’t give a fuck who anyone belonged to, enemies or friends. If provoked, he would have you severely punished or, in the worst case, killed.

You shook your head—not wanting to think about it anymore. Instead, you lay your head on Bucky’s shoulder and close your eyes for the remaining car ride. His fingertips delicately caressing your arm lulled you to a relaxed and sleepy state…

———

“Doll,” his soothing voice murmured in your ear, pulling you out from the light sleep, “baby, we’re here.”

You softly moaned as you lifted your head and saw that you’d pulled into the garage of your penthouse—you were indeed home now. Luckily, because you were ready to cuddle up with your husband in bed and go to sleep in his loving and protective embrace.

“You want me to carry you?”

“N-no, I can go on my own.”

Once in the elevator, Bucky pressed the button for the roof terrace, not the apartment like you thought we would. You looked up at him. A confused expression on your face—eyebrows furrowed.

“Are we not going to bed yet?”

“Not yet,” he wrapped his arms around your shoulder, pulling you close to him, and kissed your head, “I have something I want to show you.”

What did he have to show you on the rooftop?

When the elevator arrived, Bucky took your hand and led you to the patio overlooking the light-filled city. Nothing looked unusual. Everything looked as it always did. There was no thing to show. So why did he bring you here?

“Bucky, what are we doing here?”

“Come.”

He led you to the very edge of the fence and wrapped his arms around you from behind. His head rested on your shoulder, and you leaned yours on his.

“Do you see, doll?”

“See what, Bucky?”

“The city!”

“Your city, babe.”

“Our city, baby girl. All of this is for you. Everything I do is for you. You and my undying love for you influence every decision I make in life.”

“James… you know I don't need any of this. I appreciate it, baby, you know that, but… I just need you.”

“I know, I only need you as well, but I just wanted you to know that we’re in this together. We can always count on each other. We will always have one another. Our love is powerful and unbreakable.”

“You know it, Bucky.”

You stood for a while longer. Staring out over your city as you swayed to imaginary music. Bucky’s lips graced your cheek as he whispered sweet nothings that had your heart burst with warmth, love and security.

Words can’t describe how much you loved this man. This vicious, menacing, murderous, but also affectionate, warm and joyous man. One would think such words couldn’t be combined to describe a man—that it doesn't fit. But Bucky was all those, and you wouldn’t change him for the world.

Your sweet bubble was interrupted by another notification on Bucky’s phone, making him groan in annoyance. He held one arm around your waist while the other retrieved his phone.

You couldn't see what it said this time, but he let out a groan of approval and then pulled you with him back to the elevator once he read it.

“Where are we going now? More surprises?”

“We’re just going to our room.”

Ah, finally. As much as you loved Bucky for bringing you up here and expressing his undying love for you, you really just wanted to snuggle up to him in bed now.

But once you arrived at your room, one of Bucky’s men was waiting by the door, which was highly unusual. You wondered what was going on. It probably had something to do about Bucky’s recent text message. Probably an update on Roman and his current… situation. But no matter what it was, you hoped it would be able to wait till the morning. You just wanted Bucky all to yourself now.

“Wait here, doll.”

You stood in place while Bucky approached his man. He whispered something to Bucky, and Bucky nodded before he called you over. The man bid you good night, and then it was finally just you and your husband.

“What was that all about, babe?”

“My love…”

He lay his hands on your shoulders, staring deep into your eyes with seriousness written all over his face.

What was going on?

Why was he acting so… strange?

“Yes, my dear?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do, Bucky, with my life.”

“Would you do anything I ask of you?”

You didn’t like to admit it, but you would kill for this man if the situation ever occurred.

“I-I… yes.”

“Then come with me,” he presented his hand, and you took it without hesitation, “don't be alarmed.”

Alarmed?

He opened the door to your shared master bedroom. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Although you trusted Bucky, his behaviour was more abnormal than usual, which scared you slightly.

You expected to be met with something significant while walking into the room, but there was nothing in the dim-lit room. It was a little hard to see with the lights out, so you scanned the entire space to try and find the abnormality—from the huge windows lining the outer wall, to the bed, and finally, the other side of the room. And that's when you saw it.

You gasped out loud in horror, eyes wide like saucers when you saw a person in the darkened corner of your room. It was a man—beaten, bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair. His scream was muffled by something shoved into his mouth.

Oh my god… it was Roman…

“B-Bucky, wha-”

What was happening? This was wrong. This was so wrong on so many levels. Bucky never brought any of his mob business into your home. He always tried to shield you from that gruesome aspect of his world as best as possible. So what was he doing?

You backed away slowly but were stopped by colliding into Bucky’s chest. He grabbed your upper arms to keep your shaking form in place. His breath fanned your face while he whispered in your ear.

“Don’t be scared, my love.”

You were very much horrified by the sight of a bloodied and bruised man bound tight in your room. I mean, who wouldn't be?

“Wh-what i-is going o-on?”

You contemplated screaming and running away. If that's what you wanted, Bucky would have let you go—he would never force you into doing something you absolutely didn’t want. But you didn’t move a muscle. This situation intrigued you. Bucky’s vicious and twisted mind fascinated you.

Although you were the innocent and sweet one in the relationship, you had a slight devious nature to you as well. So you wanted to see what kind of plans Bucky had in store for bringing Roman into your privacy. What kind of things does he want to do. So you let go of all your worries and went with the flow.

With Bucky’s hand secured around your neck, craning your chin up to make you look at Roman. Bucky spoke, loud enough for Roman to hear as well, the most sinful, possessive and immoral words he's ever uttered—making you shamelessly aroused and almost crumble to the floor.

“He’s gonna watch us, doll, all powerless tied up in that chair as I do with you as I please. He’s gonna watch as I undress you and expose your beautiful flesh to his eyes. He’s gonna watch as I kiss, lick, suck and bite all over your skin. He’s gonna watch and hear as I make you moan, whimper and scream. He’s gonna watch as I fuck you hard, my wife. Claiming your body and soul as mine, and mine only.”

Fuck.

You were all in.

Bucky circled his arms around your waist and brought you closer to his firm chest. Very delicately, he started leaving kisses on your exposed shoulder, making you purr in delight. His feather-light kisses made goosebumps erupt on your skin. You craned your neck to the side, giving his lips more space to continue their journey further up. A loud moan of satisfaction escaped you as he became rougher with it—licking and sucking on your tender sweet spot.

In a swift motion, he removed your little dress—leaving you in your pretty underwear. His hands started roaming all over your exposed body, paying close attention to all your curves with his fingers—hips, waist and breasts—especially your breasts. He palmed them in his grasp and pinched your nipple through the material of your bra, making you wince out at the slight pain.

While one of his hands palmed your breast, the other ran down your stomach and found its way into your panties, making you gasp once his expert fingers found your aching core. He ran his fingers through your slick folds, groaning deeply in your ear, making the hairs at the back of your neck stand.

“Fuck, baby, already so wet and messy for me, huh? Did that turn you on, princess? My little speech about fucking you and claiming you as mine while he watches all helpless?”

“U-uh, huh.”

You were revelling in the pleasure your twisted and loving husband provided you that there was no way to form any coherent words, let alone sentences. It made Bucky chuckle in a sinister way at how absolute speechless he could make you with such simple touches.

Then it all stopped—his touches and kisses. You whined out in protest and were starting to turn around to see what was going on, but he stopped you by grabbing your upper arms and turning you towards Roman again.

“Stay still, baby.”

Thankfully, his delicate touches returned to your skin. His fingers ran from your shoulder and down until they met the clasp of your bra—unclasping it with no difficulty. The bra straps ran down your arms and hit the floor with a soft thud. Your breasts fully exposed to the two men.

With Bucky’s hands caressing your waist, he descended to the floor behind you. His fingers hooked into your panties and pulled them down your legs. Now, you were fully exposed; your parts that Bucky was so protective and possessive over came to light.

He left a wet kiss on each of your ass cheeks before travelling the kisses upward your naked back—until he stood straight up and wrapped his hand around your throat again, making you yelp and pay full attention to the man tied to the chair. Bucky spoke loud again for him to hear as well.

“This here is all mine. My body—my tits, my ass, my pussy,” he groped your wet and naked core, making you gasp out, “Only I will get to touch and take all of her as I please. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

“I-it’s yours, B-Bucky, I-I belong to y-you.”

He turned you around and pulled your naked body flush into his clothed one. His hand grasped the back of your neck and brought your lips to his—hungrily kissing you, tongues caressing one another as you moaned and groaned into the heated and needy kiss. His other hand took hold of your ass cheek—altering between squeezing hard and delivering slaps to the plump flesh, which made you whimper into his mouth each time he did.

While still keeping your lips connected, Bucky manoeuvred you to the foot of the bed and removed his jacket while you helped with unbuttoning his white shirt—tearing it off his muscular body.

You roamed your hands all over his hard chest and stomach, moaning as you felt every curve and dip of his delicious muscles. While you touched him, Bucky went to work on getting his pants off.

“Let me.”

You descended to your knees, finding a comfortable place on the marble floor, and helped him tug his pants and underwear down. A satisfied gasp slips from your mouth as his hard cock springs to life—slapping against his belly.

“This cock belongs to me, doesn't it, daddy?” You mutter as you take a firm grasp on his base, and kitten lick his tip while looking up at him.

Bucky chuckled at your possessive nature, licking his lips. You could be just as possessive over Bucky as he was over you, and he loved it. He belonged to you as much as you belonged to him.

“You know it does, baby,” his hand cradled your face, “all of me belongs to you, body and soul.”

You pushed him down to sit on the foot of the bed, his hands on the mattress keeping his weight up. His eyes were fixated on your kneeling form as you nestled between his spread legs. The palm of your hands caressed his thighs up and down as you stared at his entire cock—your mouth watering at how delicious it looked.

“I’m so hungry for your cock, daddy.”

“Yeah? You gonna show him what a little cock-whore you are, baby?”

“Yes,” a glob of your spit fell on him, making him groan as your hand jerked him and spread the saliva all over his length, “I’m a little cock-whore that wants your cock in my mouth.”

He twitched at your lewd words.

“Take all of me then.”

With his hand at the back of your head, he guided and encouraged you to take him whole. With no hesitation, you engulfed his length immediately—too cock-hungry to tease and toy with him until he begged for you. You desperately needed his length deep in your throat.

You gagged around him as he tickled the back of your throat. The vibrations made him shudder where he sat. With each hand cradling your face, he forced your head up and down on him, thrusting his hips upwards to meet your moves.

Tears pooled in your eyes, and saliva dribbled out of your mouth as he forced his way down your throat. It was so messy and erotic—sloppy sounds filled the room.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he concentrated on how your warm and wet mouth felt on his throbbing cock. Guttural groans rumbled in his throat.

“Fuck, you take my cock so well, baby.”

He removed you from him, which made you whine in protest—missing the feel of him choking you with it. Your hand wrapped around him and jerked his length in long strokes as you presented your tongue—showing him how absolute needy you were for his cock shoved deep in your cavity.

With his fingers holding your jaw, he leaned down till he was level with your face and gifted you a glob of his spit on your awaiting tongue. “Fucking whore, you know that?” You nod your head. The degrading action and words had your pussy flutter. You rolled your tongue into your mouth and leaned down to retake him, bobbing your head while Bucky supported his weight on his hands, allowing you to take control of his cock as he sat and enjoyed the lewd performance.

“I bet you’re fucking jealous now.” Bucky sneered at Roman as the corner of his mouth turned up in a sinister smirk.

Your hand accompanied your mouth—stroking his base while your mouth paid attention to his sensitive head—finding a perfect rhythm to bring Bucky over the edge. The other hand cupped his balls to fondle them.

“Look at me….”

You peered up at him through your thick lashes while you had your mouth and hands full of his cock and balls. Drool and tears covering all of you.

“...fucking shit, doll, you’re gonna make me come.” A few seconds later, he grunted as he reached his climax. His hand gripping your shoulder hard to brace himself.

Watching his face contour in pure pleasure, moaning, groaning and grunting while his thick load shoots down your throat must be one of the most pornographic scenes you’d ever witnessed. Your pussy fluttered at the sight and vocalisation of him—slickness running down your inner thighs.

Holy fucking shit.

You worked him thoroughly through his intense orgasm to make him feel as good as possible. Not letting a single drop of him go to waste—all of it trickled down your throat.

Once he had come down from his high, you pulled him out from your mouth, making his head leave with a pop. Bucky hisses as his sensitive cock is freed from your expert hold.

You were a mess—drool covering your face, hands and tits, but to Bucky, it was the most stunning you’d ever looked.

“Oh, baby. So beautiful and messy for me.”

With his hand holding your throat, he leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss which you whimpered into.

“Get on the bed.”

All giddy, you switched places with him. Your elbows supported your weight as you spread your legs for him, showing him your glistening and needy pussy.

“Fucking gorgeous.”

“Are you gonna fuck me, daddy?”

Bucky tugged your legs, pulling you further towards him—till your ass was right by the edge of your bed.

“Not yet, babydoll. I need to taste that pussy first.”

He finds a comfortable place on his knees between your spread legs so he can go to work in worshipping all of you, like the Goddess you are. His face is inches from where you so desperately need him, feeling his breath on you, making your pussy ache for him. You arch into his face, your hand running over his short hair, begging for him to taste you, touch you, do anything to you. To eat you out until he shatters your existence.

“Please, Bucky,” you pathetically plead.

“You want it, baby?”

The tip of his tongue flickers your nub. That simple touch has your whole body convulse on the bed and a soft whimper escaping you.

God, you were so needy.

“P-please.”

“I’ll make you feel so fucking good, princess,” he laid a simple kiss on your wet folds, making you convulse once more, “but first, I need to clean up this mess you’ve made, baby.” He was referring to the slickness that had spilt from you, running down your inner thighs.

While his hands caressed the side of your waist, making delicious tingles erupt on your skin, he went to work on cleaning you up with his tongue—licking up the mess you’ve made, moaning at your taste. “Your taste is outstanding, baby.” Your whimper in pain and pleasure as he nips the skin of your inner thigh with his teeth—his tongue soothing the sting after.

“You have the prettiest pussy; you know that, baby? I’m so lucky that I’m the only man who will ever get to see it, to taste it,” he licks your outer lips, which has you arch into him for more, “and to fuck this needy little cunt.”

Finally, he places his mouth where you desperately need it to be. He drags his broad tongue through your folds and flicks the tip of it on your clit. The action has you arch your back, and your eyes flutter shut.

“O-oh…”

A glob of his saliva hits your clit, trickling down your folds. He groans as he watches his mess mix with your own—making your pussy look like the most delicious five-star meal he’s ever seen.

“Look at him, baby. Look at him while I eat your pussy.”

You turned your head to look at the man bound in his chair. It’s fucked up to admit it, but it turned you on to have Bucky between your thighs while a beaten-down man watched. You could see him shaking in his chair, shock overloading his system while his bloodied face pleaded for mercy—for his hurt and misery to end.

Fuck, this was hot.

You moaned loudly as Bucky went to work on devouring your pussy like a starved man that hasn’t had a decent meal in forever. He drags his tongue through your slit multiple times to get all of your flavours. His groan against your pussy at the taste has you quiver on the mattress and a loud cry emitting from you.

He lewdly spits on your pussy to claim ownership over it before his lips wrap around your raw nub—altering between sucking and licking the sensitive nerve. You try to keep your focus on Roman, but your eyes flutter at the pleasure, your mind and vision becoming blurry.

Two fingers penetrate your velvet walls, stretching you out and reaching knuckle deep, making you wail out. Their tips brush against the spot that has you absolutely lose it, making you writhe on the bed. The other works your breast—palming the supple flesh in his grasp, pinching and pulling on your sensitive nipple. You're nothing but cries of pleasure—moaning, groaning and whimpering as Bucky works you to perfection.

You feel kind of embarrassed at how noisy and pathetic you sound, so you bite your bottom lip hard to try and keep yourself down. Bucky didn’t like that at all.

“No, no,” he releases your clit from his hold, “let him hear. Let him hear all your pretty noises, baby.”

He quickly returned his assaults on your swollen clit that throbbed in need. His fingers moved in and out of you at an expert pace, and his other hand worked your breast.

Upon his wishes, you let your cries of satisfaction flow freely—filling up the bedroom. Your breathing hitched in your throat as the buildup was nearing its breaking point, so close to shattering your whole existence—body and soul.

Both your hands are placed at the back of his head, keeping him there so that he cannot move away and deny you your pleasure under no circumstances. Your hips rock into his vicious mouth as you chase your orgasm—it’s right there, so close.

“Bucky,” you cry as you come hard, your toes curling and your whole body convulsing on the bed. You try keeping your gaze on Roman as the coil in your stomach snaps, but your eyes cross. The surge of intense pleasure on your mind and body is almost indescribable—you’ve never come so hard in your entire life. As stars blur your vision, you feel like you're floating on a cloud.

Bucky groans as he works through your orgasm, your clit throbbing in his mouth and your tight walls fluttering around his digits. He’s in awe as he watches you fall apart like you’ve never done before, and he doesn't stop pleasuring you until you are all but satisfied.

You sob from sensitivity as his mouth and fingers leave your used and abused pussy. You’re a panting and heaving mess as you try and come back to your senses.

“You have no idea how sexy and breathtaking you are when you come like that, baby,” he says before kissing your mound, making you twitch. He proceeds with his kisses up your stomach and gives each of your nipples a lick; each touch has you spasm on the bed at how overly sensitive your whole body feels. He comes to face you—gently laying a kiss on your lips so you can taste yourself.

“I really fucked you up, didn’t I? I’m the only one that can make you come like that, huh?”

All you can do is nod while babbling unfinished words as you still haven’t recovered from your high.

Bucky chuckled at your distant and fucked out state.

“I’ll fuck you up some more, doll. He’s gonna watch as I absolutely wreck you.”

He pulls you further up the bed until you’re both in the middle of it.

With his hard cock in hand, he taps the head on your swollen clit, making you twitch and sob; a weak no falls from your lips as you place your hand on his hip to try and push him off.

You can’t. You’re so overly sensitive that it hurts. You can’t take anymore. But Bucky didn’t seem to give a fuck. He wasn’t done with you.

“I-I c-can’t.”

“Yes, you can, baby.” He speaks through gritted teeth.

He takes your hand off him and pins it down on the mattress.

Again he taps your clit, pulling out the same reaction from you as before. He glides his leaking tip through your wet folds. Gradually, his cock gliding on your tingling nub feels fucking incredible, and you’re ready for him to wreck you with his length.

“Please, daddy, fuck me.”

He groaned out at your neediness for him and lined his tip with your quivering entrance. Slowly, inch by inch, he penetrates your tight velvet walls with his cock, making you whimper at the slight ache. His hands grasp the back of your thighs as he forces his way inside you, guttural groans rumbling in his throat as your warm and tight walls engulf him. The last bit of him he forcefully pushes inside you, slamming into your pelvis, making you sob a cry, and your eyes roll back—showing white. The feeling of fullness has you blabbering pleas for him to destroy and fuck you senseless.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

His voice is so deep and husky, making your walls flutter around his length, pulling out a heavy moan from him.

“I’ll fuck you so good, doll.”

He pulls out and then forces himself hard into you again, making you jolt and cry on the mattress. He does it a few times, being rough and abusive with it, before he starts fucking your tightness in deep and powerful strokes, slapping his skin against yours.

He hoists your legs on his shoulder, pinning them against his front, as he thrusts into you, his tip brushing your sweet spot each time he reaches deep inside you. You’re nothing but a moaning, whimpering mess as you take it all. Your hands grip the sheets to brace yourself, your eyes cross as he fucks you into oblivion, and your breasts bounce with each abusive thrust he delivers.

“My pussy. Mine, mine, mine, mine,” he grunts between each hard thrust, watching his length disappear through your walls.

There's nothing on your brain other than his cock—nothing but earth-shattering pleasure that it's giving.

You convey that you want him closer with grabby hands as you’re entirely speechless with how he’s fucking you.

Answering your pleas, he drops your legs on each side before lowering his body till his naked chest meets yours, holding his weight up so he won’t completely crush your sensitive body. His forehead rests on yours as his warm breath hits your face.

“So needy for my cock, huh? So needy for all of me?”

You can only let out a sound of approval.

“Good fucking girl.”

With the rolls of his hips, he manages to reach even deeper inside you, making you wail in pleasure. You wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, clinging to him with your weak strength. The buildup was fast due to your last orgasm, and you were ready to explode with pleasure once more.

“I-I-I’m go….”

You couldn't even form a coherent sentence, making Bucky chuckle at how good he was fucking your brains.

“You gonna come, baby?”

“U-uh, huh.”

“Look at him, baby,” with his fingers on your jaw; he turned your head to look at Roman, “look at him as you cream and make a mess all over my cock, you fucking whore. Look at him while I stuff your little cunt.”

You try to keep your focus on him, but it was near impossible with the way Bucky was fucking you, clouding your every sense.

A few more brutal thrusts, and you come hard, toes curling, almost blacking out at the intensity. Silent noises escape your open mouth, and your eyes roll as you explode around his cock—your walls viciously pulsating around his length and making a mess all over him. Tears streamed down your face as it became too much, too hard, but you wanted more; you wanted his cum to fill you so badly, so you pulled him in tighter with your weak legs, wanting him to spill his warm seed inside you.

With a heavy grunt, he spurts ropes after ropes of his cum inside you, decorating your walls. His hips snapped rapidly against you as he filled you up to the brim, emptying himself entirely and not stopping until you were both fucked out and satisfied.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl taking all of me.”

He stilled inside once he was done, making a breath of relief and satisfaction escape you, and a deep groan came from him at the aftershocks. He peppers kisses on your clammy neck and collarbone, whispering sweet praises and affirmation after being so dominant and rough with you. You hold him close, nuzzling your face into his short hair as you hum and sigh in contentment at being stuffed full of his cum.

A whimper falls from you as his body leaves yours, leaving you cold, followed by a sob as his cock leaves your used and abused hole, leaving you unfulfilled.

“Look at that, baby,” Bucky was fascinated with his cum trickling out of your quivering hole, ”such a pretty sight.” He collected all of the cum with his tip and pushed himself hard into you again, making you squeal. After giving you a few more strokes, he pulled out, making the cum flow out once more. He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek, followed by some words that made your breath hitch.

“Stay still, baby. I need to show him.”

He what?

You were still and spread out like he requested, your body too sensitive and sore to move anyways. With hooded eyes, you watch Bucky’s naked behind as he walks away from you and over to the man bound tight in the corner.

Bucky removes the gag from Roman’s mouth, and you can hear him coughing blood and saliva as his voice is freed. He tries to say something, but it comes out as a gurgling sound.

“Did you really fucking think I would let you go unpunished from my club, you fucking filth?”

Bucky’s fist connects with Roman’s bloodied and bruised face—the noise of skin punching skin and the crackling of Roman’s teeth at the force of it is the most uncomfortable sound you’ve ever heard. You shut your eyes tight as Bucky hits him again, and then a last time.

“Did you really fucking think I would let you speak about my wife like that without me having your head for it?”

You still didn’t know what Roman had said to Bucky in the club, but it was obviously triggering. So Bucky had gone to this extent in showing him, and others for that matter, what happens when someone spoke about his possessions.

Bucky removed his restraints and pulled Roman by his hair over to you on the bed—propping him up so he rested on his knees, his bruised face close to your pussy.

You were lost for words at what was happening, at what Bucky was doing. You just closed your eyes tight and hoped that whatever was going to happen would be over soon.

“Look at that, huh. Look at it. Isn’t it so fucking beautiful?”

Bucky was referring to his cum seeping out of your quivering hole—making a beautiful mess.

Roman looked with hooded eyes and tried to say something, but his words came out strained and unclear.

“Fucking LOOK AT IT!”

Bucky yelled in his face. It startled you and made tears roll down your cheek. This feels so degrading… but my God, also so fucking hot at the same time—to have someone being forced to look at your most intimate part that’s just been used and abused and stuffed full of cum.

Roman looks with wide eyes now, well, one at least; the other one is too bruised to open fully. He makes a painful noise as Bucky pulls his head up by his hair.

“This is mine. My pussy,” Bucky spreads your lips, “this is my girl, my fucking wife, and that’s my fucking cum that’s claimed her. You will never ever get to touch her. Touch what rightfully belongs to me. How dare you come into my club and use your filthy disgusting words on my wife, especially after betraying me like that, you worthless piece of shit.”

Bucky tosses him to the ground, his body hitting the hard floor in a loud thud while he groans in pain.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky spat at him.

Bucky retrieves his phone from his jacket, and you hear his thumbs moving across the keyboard—typing a message. You’re unsure what’s happening and too tired and slightly traumatised to ask questions.

A few seconds later, there’s a knock on the bedroom door, and Bucky stands with his back, all tall and broad, to you, blocking your body so whoever is on the other end can’t see you fully exposed. Bucky doesn’t care about his own nudity in the slightest.

Whoever entered the room didn’t say anything, but you could hear them come closer and stop by Roman, waiting for Bucky to give them instructions.

“Dispose of him,” Bucky utters in a deep and sinister voice.

“Yes, Sir.”

You hear Roman getting pulled away, never to be seen again, and then a door closes, leaving only you and Bucky in your bedroom.

“Baby.”

His sweet and caring voice was back; his protective and warm touches were back—your loving husband. He cleans you off with his shirt and then cradles your body, making you sit on his lap as he wraps his tender, soft arms around your frame. You nuzzle your face into his sweaty neck, a tired sigh leaving you as his fingers run delicately on your clammy skin, soothing your aching flesh and lulling you to sleep.

“Are you ok, doll?” He takes your tired face in his hands, making you look at his concerned one, searching yours for any sign of stress or discomfort. “Was that too much? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, doll, you had to see that, to hear that. That I had to put you through that.”

You honestly didn’t know what to say at what just unfolded—too tired and sore to process the whole event properly, but you were ok, for now. You were just happy to finally have your husband to yourself after such a pleasurable and vicious evening. All you wanted now was to fall asleep in his protective embrace.

All worries and questions about tonight could wait until the morning.

“I-I’m o-ok, James, just tired,” you yawn.

“Oh, baby…”

He scoots you up the bed—until you both rest your heads on the fluffy pillows, facing each other.

“... come here.”

You make yourself small and vulnerable as you nuzzle and cling to the embrace of your vicious lover and protector—his arms and legs holding you close. A content sigh breathes through you as your head tucks into his chest; listening to the calming beats of his heart—this was your home, where you wanted to be forever; despite Bucky’s brutal nature at times, you never ever wanted to leave his side.

Bucky’s murderous hands treat your skin like it's the most delicate thing in the world—softly stroking your back, making you shudder and purr in delight. Sweet words of affirmation are whispered against your hair, followed by a hum of a pleasant tune that slowly lulls you to sleep.

The last thing you hear are words that solidify your love and trust for your husband.

“You’re mine, mine only, my everything, and I love you beyond words, my sweet love….”

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

Room 732 (M)

Mafia!Jeongguk x Courtesan!Reader

Jeongguk brought to you by The Bird Cage

WordCount: 10k

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Excessive Drinking, Excessive Swearing, Guns, Jeongguk Is Haunted By His Dead Girlfriend, Character Death (Lee), Mafia!Jeongguk, Shy!Jeongguk, Possessive!Jeongguk, Dom!Jeongguk, Sub!Reader,  Jeongguk Is Riddled with Guilt, Angst, Fluff, Praise, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Throat Fucking, Deep Throating, Begging, Jeongguk Has A Huge Dick, Daddy Kink, Did I Say Possessive? Because Jeongguk Is Possessive As Fuck, Cum Swallowing, Degradation, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie

A/N: Can Be Read As A Stand Alone But If You’ve Read TBC. There are fun easter eggs. OKAY. ENJOY.

The mansion was silent on this Wednesday morning. Not a noise to be heard as Jeongguk pads down the right staircase of the large home. His sleep laden eyes drift to the brand new door before yawning loudly. His hand coming up to scratch at his bare tattooed chest as he makes his way through the sitting room. The perfectly white marble countertop of the island gives him a place to lean as he runs his hands through his black hair. He drank way too much yesterday with Taehyung to celebrate the birth of his new son. Everyone was finding love around him, starting families and here he was still a bachelor since his girlfriend Lee was murdered. He could sometimes still picture her, her black hair blowing in the breeze in the garden. Or, the way she used to wrinkle her nose at everything, a habit Guk had adopted from her. He sighs to himself before shoving off of the counter as he rounds the island to the liquor cabinet. Sometimes Lee visits him in his dreams, begging him to move on, to experience happiness like the others in his gang. But, how could he? He has this warped mind that only knows how to torture and kill. After she was gone there was no love, no yearning. He smiles, sure, at his nieces and nephews. He finds happiness in others’ happiness but never his own.

Keep reading

Everything Between Us (Series Masterlist)

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: They left you without a goodbye, they broke your heart. You didn’t get your happily ever after. But now they’re back and they’re searching for you to make things right. Could you take them back into your life and let them back into your heart?

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

EPILOGUE

Everything Between Us (Series Masterlist)

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: They left you without a goodbye, they broke your heart. You didn’t get your happily ever after. But now they’re back and they’re searching for you to make things right. Could you take them back into your life and let them back into your heart?

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

EPILOGUE

Everything Between Us (Series Masterlist)

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: They left you without a goodbye, they broke your heart. You didn’t get your happily ever after. But now they’re back and they’re searching for you to make things right. Could you take them back into your life and let them back into your heart?

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

EPILOGUE

Dealer (1) - myg

Summary: Your boyfriend seemed like a dream come true: always wanting to be around you, making sure you would get home safe, never taking his hands off you. These little comforts became your whole world, and then the only thing you were allowed to have left in the world. Luckily, your boyfriends drug dealer turned out to be a much nicer guy.

Pairing: DrugDealer!Yoongi x Female!Reader

Genre: Mafia/drug kingpin au, Y/N coming from nothing, found family, Eventual smut

Warnings: Zeke is a red flag, Hoseok is a drug dealer, Yoongi is a drug dealer, Weed, measurements, prices, and the selling of weed, Hoseok is extremely concerned with y/n, guns :)

Referenced: manipulation, psychological abuse, implied physical abuse, self-harm.

Word count: 2.8k

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Note: If you are sensitive or triggered by abusive relationships or manipulation in any way, please do not read this fic, it can be very triggering. It will also be referenced that Y/n used to self harm, and has self-harm scars. This is fic is going to cover a lot of intense topics, and there will be a lot of drugs.

He was so sweet at first. He made you feel seen for the first time in your life; like someone actually wanted to see you, to spend time with you without any other motive. He made you feel important, made you feel special. For the first time in your life, you felt beautiful and appreciated and loved; and he was the reason for it.  

So when he was rushing the relationship along, you had no problems with it. Not when he asked for your number the night you met. Not when you went on your first date the next day. Not when he showed up at your job every night you worked, or when he asked you to spend the night at his place a week after your first date, because he was too tired to make sure you had gotten home safe. He was just looking out for you, after all.  

He was making every part of your life revolve around him, and you just thought it was him being in love with you.  

You were fine with it when he rushed you into a sexual relationship with him, and you were fine with it when he wanted you to move in with him. Your apartment building wasn’t safe, someone could break in, there were shootings in that neighborhood all the time. He needed to keep you safe.  

It only took him 2 months from the day you met to get you living with him, sleeping in his bed every night, letting him use you and your body in whatever way he’d wanted, because this is what love is, right? Two months after that, you weren’t allowed to have your job anymore. There were too many men that looked at you at the bar you were waitress at. Too many men who’d ask for your number, too many men trying to grab you, trying to talk to you, trying to fuck you.  

They all wanted you, and you were just too stupid to see it. You were naive and sweet and innocent, and all those men all wanted one thing from you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, no, not at all. He couldn’t trust them, what they’d do to you in your fragile state. You were still healing from trauma, even if before you had met him, you would have considered yourself mostly healed.  

The urge to start self-harming again came up so often, even if you hadn’t done it in years. You couldn’t get the thoughts out of your head as you were isolated in his house, not allowed to leave unless he came with you. Not allowed to talk to anyone, not without permission anyways.  

You’d do anything for him, and the way he loved you. The way he’d bring you so high up, just to take it all away, leaving you drowning, begging for his love again, for his gentle praise and his hands on you. You needed him, and he had you just where he wanted you.  

The only person you’d ever seen aside from him was Hoseok. Hoseok was his weed dealer. He’d come to the house once a week stay for a little, have a conversation and maybe smoke a little before he left, a bright smile on his face as he went. You loved these little weekly visits, as they were the only time you got to see someone other than Zeke. Not that you didn’t like spending time with him, but it was nice to see someone new.  

Hoseok however, hated coming over to sell to Zeke.  

It wasn’t something he’d ever minded in the past, having been his dealer for a few years now, but it started to get worse and worse whenever he’d met you.  

Hoseok was there the day Zeke had first noticed you, weeks before he’d officially introduced himself to you. The bar you used to work at was a place they’d frequented. They’d party there together, or just go to hang out for a little on the weekends, but he could immediately tell a difference in him from the second he saw you.  

It was easy to ignore the differences in him, as Hoseok was never the biggest fan. Mostly just hanging out with someone who bought from him a lot to make sure he kept a customer.  

But he really loved when he started talking to you, because you were one of the sweetest people he’d ever met. He loved spending time with you, not that he was interested in you; you were just sweet and funny, always good company.  

But then, things started changing. Changing fast.  

He’d be excited to meet Zeke at the bar, hoping you’d be their waitress so he could talk to you some more. But then you stopped working there. Fine, fine, he usually met Zeke in his apartment anyways and you were there most of the time, so he’d still get to see you, your bubbly personality and your bright smile always shining through as soon as you saw him.  

But you wouldn’t smile as much, and when you did, it was never quite as bright as it had been when you first met. You didn’t tell as many jokes or laugh at many of his. You wore baggier clothes and curled yourself up into a ball on the couch next to Zeke, who seemed to treat you more like a pet than a girlfriend.  

You looked at him when you wanted to speak, as if asking permission. That was when he couldn’t handle it anymore. He watched you go from one of the most lively, outgoing, charismatic, and sweetest people he’d ever met to a lifeless husk, barely strong enough to have any original thoughts.  

He’d watched this man ruin your life in less than a year, and he did absolutely nothing to stop it.  

Any time he tried to talk to you when Zeke wasn’t there, try to figure out what was going on, if there was any way he could help you, Zeke would always show back up just as he felt he was getting somewhere. He’d show back up and push you back the hall, out of sight.  

As if no longer seeing you meant he hadn’t previously seen the bruises peeking out of the holes in your jeans.  

So, he stopped going when Zeke texted him. Made up excuses every time so he wouldn’t have to feel the guilt that always surrounded him when he saw you.  

He decided to talk about it with one of his good friends one day when they were hanging out at the bar you used to work at. Zeke had messaged him, asking if he was around and Hoseok sighed loudly at the sight of his number appearing in his phone. His gaze narrowed down at the screen before he clenched his jaw and clicked off his phone, tossing it back down onto the table in front of him before he leaned his elbows on the table, bringing his hands up to cover his mouth as his leg bounced under the table.  

“Who’s got you so pissed off, Hoba?” Yoongi cocked his brow as he took a drink, eyeing his usually level-headed friend. Hoseok closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before he let his hands fall back down, hands gripping onto his beer and swirling it around the frosty glass.  

“Just this guy I stopped selling to,” he didn’t bring his eyes up to meet Yoongi’s, knowing if he did he’d have to elaborate. Yoongi didn’t push him any further, but Hoseok decided he wanted to share it anyway. “Zeke, the one whose girlfriend used to work here,” Yoongi nodded, vaugly remembering the name and waitress. Hoseok had pointed you out to him a time or two when you still worked here, but it had been a while. 

Hoseok thought for a second, about to proceed with telling Yoongi all about you, and how he felt bad for not saying something to someone sooner, but he stopped himself.  

Yoongi was also a dealer, and a much more high-profile one at that. He always carried around a gun and had no problem telling people off, especially if they were buying anything less than a QP, and Zeke never bought more than an ounce at a time.  

If he just told him about you, Yoongi would just say “yeah, that sucks” and they’d move on. But if he saw it.... 

Maybe he could try to pawn Zeke off on Yoongi. Get Zeke off his back, and when Yoongi saw you, he’d no doubt do something.  

So, that’s exactly what he did.  

“I heard him say something slick to her the last time I was there. Nothing serious, just not someone I’d really want to associate with, you know?” Yoongi nodded again, knowing how likely this story was considering how pissed off Hoseok had been only moments ago. “Maybe you could sell to him? Just once at least, so I can figure out whether I can afford to drop him or not,”  

Yoongi thought for a second, trying to remember how much weed he still had before going to his distributer next week.  

“How much does he need?” Hoseok unlocked his phone and opened the conversation with Zeke.  

“An ounce, I usually charge him 250,”  

“Tell him I’ll charge 275, but I can be at his place in an hour,” Hoseok nodded and sent Zeke the text, which he thankfully had the money and was willing to pay it. 

“Just texted you his address, though you can be a little late, he’s kind of a dick anyways,”  

- 

Yoongi didn't like the look of you when he walked through the door.  

He didn't like that you looked so goddamn stiff, uncomfortable even as soon as you saw him.  

At first, he thought it was him making you uncomfortable; you judging him, a man you did not know for being there. But Yoongi didn't need to be there for more than two minutes before he realized that it wasn't him making you nervous. No, but the guy that had taken a seat next to you, the guy whose house you had been in. The guy you had been living with.  

You sat idly as he scooted in closer to you, spreading his legs out and pulled one of yours onto his before he rubbed up and back the length of it. He kept making lewd comments about your body as if you weren't there, and you laughed along with any joke he told, your eyes never leaving your neatly folded hands that sat in your lap.  

Yoongi was disgusted as he watched the man claiming to "own" you continue to do whatever he wanted to you, touch you and speak to and about you as he pleased. Yoongi could see why Hoseok had sent him over here, and it wasn’t just because of a slick comment. He’d always been more ballsy and ready to take more risks than Hoseok had, never really willing to stand for any bullshit, and this was most certainly included in that.  

You were sitting opposite each other, his eyes sneaking glances at you anytime Zeke looked away. The small talk had ended, and Zeke stood to go get the money from his bedroom, at the opposite end of the house. As soon as he was out of earshot, you spoke.  

“You're a friend of Hoseok's’?” Yoongi nodded softly, a little taken back by your sudden friendliness. Zeke had stopped letting you be alone with Hoseok, so it had been weeks since you’d spoken with anyone. “How’s he doing?” 

“He’s really good, he just couldn’t make it today. Scheduling conflict, you know how it is,” You nodded and smiled, moving your eyes back and forth between the hallways and Yoongi.  

“Would you tell him I said hi?” Yoongi nodded his head, brow furrowed as he pulled his phone out.  

“If you want, I could give you his phone number,” You very quickly shook your head, still looking at the hallway behind Yoongi to keep an eye out for Zeke.  

“No, I don’t have a phone–”  

“You don’t have a phone?” You bit your lip lightly, shaking your head as Yoongi eyed you.  

“Just tell him I'm okay,” You fell back into the couch as you heard Zeke walking back down the hallway. Yoongi followed suit, quickly busying himself with his phone. He pulled up Hoseok’s contact and started typing as Zeke sat back down.  

You said he was an asshole, not a fucking dictator– 

“What’d I miss?” Zeke asked as he sat, beginning to count his money.  

“Not much; Hoseok texted. Wanted me to apologize for him not being here again,” Zeke gave a half-hearted smile, looking back at you to make sure your eyes were still down, that you were still behaving.  

“It’s fine, Hoseok’s an old friend of mine. We go way back, he’ll just owe me one,” Zeke threw the counted money onto the table that separated them, before his hand went to your thigh, slightly lifting the material of the skirt you had been wearing to reveal the edge of a giant purple and black bruise on your thigh. He squeezed down onto it, turning a loving gesture into something that made Yoongi’s blood boil.  

Fuck it.  

Yoongi pulled the weed out of his pocket and threw it down onto the table next to the money and stood, hands in his pockets as he spoke calmly.  

"Your shits free if you let her leave with me," Zeke looked back and forth between the two of you, your head down as you could feel the anger beginning to radiate off of him, his fingers digging deeper into your skin.  

"What the fuck are you talking about man? What the fuck did you do?" He turned to look at you, his voice coming out a muffled growl as he tried to scare you into answering him.  

"I said," Yoongi spoke up again, this time as he pulled a gun out of the waistband of his jeans, switching the safety off as he pointed it at Zeke’s head. "Your shits free if you let her come with me." 

Dealer (1) - myg

Summary: Your boyfriend seemed like a dream come true: always wanting to be around you, making sure you would get home safe, never taking his hands off you. These little comforts became your whole world, and then the only thing you were allowed to have left in the world. Luckily, your boyfriends drug dealer turned out to be a much nicer guy.

Pairing: DrugDealer!Yoongi x Female!Reader

Genre: Mafia/drug kingpin au, Y/N coming from nothing, found family, Eventual smut

Warnings: Zeke is a red flag, Hoseok is a drug dealer, Yoongi is a drug dealer, Weed, measurements, prices, and the selling of weed, Hoseok is extremely concerned with y/n, guns :)

Referenced: manipulation, psychological abuse, implied physical abuse, self-harm.

Word count: 2.8k

Previous | Next

Note: If you are sensitive or triggered by abusive relationships or manipulation in any way, please do not read this fic, it can be very triggering. It will also be referenced that Y/n used to self harm, and has self-harm scars. This is fic is going to cover a lot of intense topics, and there will be a lot of drugs.

He was so sweet at first. He made you feel seen for the first time in your life; like someone actually wanted to see you, to spend time with you without any other motive. He made you feel important, made you feel special. For the first time in your life, you felt beautiful and appreciated and loved; and he was the reason for it.  

So when he was rushing the relationship along, you had no problems with it. Not when he asked for your number the night you met. Not when you went on your first date the next day. Not when he showed up at your job every night you worked, or when he asked you to spend the night at his place a week after your first date, because he was too tired to make sure you had gotten home safe. He was just looking out for you, after all.  

He was making every part of your life revolve around him, and you just thought it was him being in love with you.  

You were fine with it when he rushed you into a sexual relationship with him, and you were fine with it when he wanted you to move in with him. Your apartment building wasn’t safe, someone could break in, there were shootings in that neighborhood all the time. He needed to keep you safe.  

It only took him 2 months from the day you met to get you living with him, sleeping in his bed every night, letting him use you and your body in whatever way he’d wanted, because this is what love is, right? Two months after that, you weren’t allowed to have your job anymore. There were too many men that looked at you at the bar you were waitress at. Too many men who’d ask for your number, too many men trying to grab you, trying to talk to you, trying to fuck you.  

They all wanted you, and you were just too stupid to see it. You were naive and sweet and innocent, and all those men all wanted one thing from you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, no, not at all. He couldn’t trust them, what they’d do to you in your fragile state. You were still healing from trauma, even if before you had met him, you would have considered yourself mostly healed.  

The urge to start self-harming again came up so often, even if you hadn’t done it in years. You couldn’t get the thoughts out of your head as you were isolated in his house, not allowed to leave unless he came with you. Not allowed to talk to anyone, not without permission anyways.  

You’d do anything for him, and the way he loved you. The way he’d bring you so high up, just to take it all away, leaving you drowning, begging for his love again, for his gentle praise and his hands on you. You needed him, and he had you just where he wanted you.  

The only person you’d ever seen aside from him was Hoseok. Hoseok was his weed dealer. He’d come to the house once a week stay for a little, have a conversation and maybe smoke a little before he left, a bright smile on his face as he went. You loved these little weekly visits, as they were the only time you got to see someone other than Zeke. Not that you didn’t like spending time with him, but it was nice to see someone new.  

Hoseok however, hated coming over to sell to Zeke.  

It wasn’t something he’d ever minded in the past, having been his dealer for a few years now, but it started to get worse and worse whenever he’d met you.  

Hoseok was there the day Zeke had first noticed you, weeks before he’d officially introduced himself to you. The bar you used to work at was a place they’d frequented. They’d party there together, or just go to hang out for a little on the weekends, but he could immediately tell a difference in him from the second he saw you.  

It was easy to ignore the differences in him, as Hoseok was never the biggest fan. Mostly just hanging out with someone who bought from him a lot to make sure he kept a customer.  

But he really loved when he started talking to you, because you were one of the sweetest people he’d ever met. He loved spending time with you, not that he was interested in you; you were just sweet and funny, always good company.  

But then, things started changing. Changing fast.  

He’d be excited to meet Zeke at the bar, hoping you’d be their waitress so he could talk to you some more. But then you stopped working there. Fine, fine, he usually met Zeke in his apartment anyways and you were there most of the time, so he’d still get to see you, your bubbly personality and your bright smile always shining through as soon as you saw him.  

But you wouldn’t smile as much, and when you did, it was never quite as bright as it had been when you first met. You didn’t tell as many jokes or laugh at many of his. You wore baggier clothes and curled yourself up into a ball on the couch next to Zeke, who seemed to treat you more like a pet than a girlfriend.  

You looked at him when you wanted to speak, as if asking permission. That was when he couldn’t handle it anymore. He watched you go from one of the most lively, outgoing, charismatic, and sweetest people he’d ever met to a lifeless husk, barely strong enough to have any original thoughts.  

He’d watched this man ruin your life in less than a year, and he did absolutely nothing to stop it.  

Any time he tried to talk to you when Zeke wasn’t there, try to figure out what was going on, if there was any way he could help you, Zeke would always show back up just as he felt he was getting somewhere. He’d show back up and push you back the hall, out of sight.  

As if no longer seeing you meant he hadn’t previously seen the bruises peeking out of the holes in your jeans.  

So, he stopped going when Zeke texted him. Made up excuses every time so he wouldn’t have to feel the guilt that always surrounded him when he saw you.  

He decided to talk about it with one of his good friends one day when they were hanging out at the bar you used to work at. Zeke had messaged him, asking if he was around and Hoseok sighed loudly at the sight of his number appearing in his phone. His gaze narrowed down at the screen before he clenched his jaw and clicked off his phone, tossing it back down onto the table in front of him before he leaned his elbows on the table, bringing his hands up to cover his mouth as his leg bounced under the table.  

“Who’s got you so pissed off, Hoba?” Yoongi cocked his brow as he took a drink, eyeing his usually level-headed friend. Hoseok closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before he let his hands fall back down, hands gripping onto his beer and swirling it around the frosty glass.  

“Just this guy I stopped selling to,” he didn’t bring his eyes up to meet Yoongi’s, knowing if he did he’d have to elaborate. Yoongi didn’t push him any further, but Hoseok decided he wanted to share it anyway. “Zeke, the one whose girlfriend used to work here,” Yoongi nodded, vaugly remembering the name and waitress. Hoseok had pointed you out to him a time or two when you still worked here, but it had been a while. 

Hoseok thought for a second, about to proceed with telling Yoongi all about you, and how he felt bad for not saying something to someone sooner, but he stopped himself.  

Yoongi was also a dealer, and a much more high-profile one at that. He always carried around a gun and had no problem telling people off, especially if they were buying anything less than a QP, and Zeke never bought more than an ounce at a time.  

If he just told him about you, Yoongi would just say “yeah, that sucks” and they’d move on. But if he saw it.... 

Maybe he could try to pawn Zeke off on Yoongi. Get Zeke off his back, and when Yoongi saw you, he’d no doubt do something.  

So, that’s exactly what he did.  

“I heard him say something slick to her the last time I was there. Nothing serious, just not someone I’d really want to associate with, you know?” Yoongi nodded again, knowing how likely this story was considering how pissed off Hoseok had been only moments ago. “Maybe you could sell to him? Just once at least, so I can figure out whether I can afford to drop him or not,”  

Yoongi thought for a second, trying to remember how much weed he still had before going to his distributer next week.  

“How much does he need?” Hoseok unlocked his phone and opened the conversation with Zeke.  

“An ounce, I usually charge him 250,”  

“Tell him I’ll charge 275, but I can be at his place in an hour,” Hoseok nodded and sent Zeke the text, which he thankfully had the money and was willing to pay it. 

“Just texted you his address, though you can be a little late, he’s kind of a dick anyways,”  

- 

Yoongi didn't like the look of you when he walked through the door.  

He didn't like that you looked so goddamn stiff, uncomfortable even as soon as you saw him.  

At first, he thought it was him making you uncomfortable; you judging him, a man you did not know for being there. But Yoongi didn't need to be there for more than two minutes before he realized that it wasn't him making you nervous. No, but the guy that had taken a seat next to you, the guy whose house you had been in. The guy you had been living with.  

You sat idly as he scooted in closer to you, spreading his legs out and pulled one of yours onto his before he rubbed up and back the length of it. He kept making lewd comments about your body as if you weren't there, and you laughed along with any joke he told, your eyes never leaving your neatly folded hands that sat in your lap.  

Yoongi was disgusted as he watched the man claiming to "own" you continue to do whatever he wanted to you, touch you and speak to and about you as he pleased. Yoongi could see why Hoseok had sent him over here, and it wasn’t just because of a slick comment. He’d always been more ballsy and ready to take more risks than Hoseok had, never really willing to stand for any bullshit, and this was most certainly included in that.  

You were sitting opposite each other, his eyes sneaking glances at you anytime Zeke looked away. The small talk had ended, and Zeke stood to go get the money from his bedroom, at the opposite end of the house. As soon as he was out of earshot, you spoke.  

“You're a friend of Hoseok's’?” Yoongi nodded softly, a little taken back by your sudden friendliness. Zeke had stopped letting you be alone with Hoseok, so it had been weeks since you’d spoken with anyone. “How’s he doing?” 

“He’s really good, he just couldn’t make it today. Scheduling conflict, you know how it is,” You nodded and smiled, moving your eyes back and forth between the hallways and Yoongi.  

“Would you tell him I said hi?” Yoongi nodded his head, brow furrowed as he pulled his phone out.  

“If you want, I could give you his phone number,” You very quickly shook your head, still looking at the hallway behind Yoongi to keep an eye out for Zeke.  

“No, I don’t have a phone–”  

“You don’t have a phone?” You bit your lip lightly, shaking your head as Yoongi eyed you.  

“Just tell him I'm okay,” You fell back into the couch as you heard Zeke walking back down the hallway. Yoongi followed suit, quickly busying himself with his phone. He pulled up Hoseok’s contact and started typing as Zeke sat back down.  

You said he was an asshole, not a fucking dictator– 

“What’d I miss?” Zeke asked as he sat, beginning to count his money.  

“Not much; Hoseok texted. Wanted me to apologize for him not being here again,” Zeke gave a half-hearted smile, looking back at you to make sure your eyes were still down, that you were still behaving.  

“It’s fine, Hoseok’s an old friend of mine. We go way back, he’ll just owe me one,” Zeke threw the counted money onto the table that separated them, before his hand went to your thigh, slightly lifting the material of the skirt you had been wearing to reveal the edge of a giant purple and black bruise on your thigh. He squeezed down onto it, turning a loving gesture into something that made Yoongi’s blood boil.  

Fuck it.  

Yoongi pulled the weed out of his pocket and threw it down onto the table next to the money and stood, hands in his pockets as he spoke calmly.  

"Your shits free if you let her leave with me," Zeke looked back and forth between the two of you, your head down as you could feel the anger beginning to radiate off of him, his fingers digging deeper into your skin.  

"What the fuck are you talking about man? What the fuck did you do?" He turned to look at you, his voice coming out a muffled growl as he tried to scare you into answering him.  

"I said," Yoongi spoke up again, this time as he pulled a gun out of the waistband of his jeans, switching the safety off as he pointed it at Zeke’s head. "Your shits free if you let her come with me."