Just Another Sideblog @justanotherarmyfangirl - Tumblr Blog

Dark&Wild (6) His Obsession

You are an interpreter for international idols, but you soon realized their lavish lifestyle came at a cost, and somehow you became the price. The man who came to collect had a special kind of vendetta, and you, so foolishly, sparked his interest.

In this story Yoongi is the villain and you will hate him! Everyone else, well, the question becomes not if there are good guys or who will save you, but how will you save yourself?

yandere loan shark!Yoongi x blind!reader x bodyguard!Jungkook x idol singer!Jimin x idol rapper!Namjoon x idol singer!Taehyung x detective!Hoseok x detective!Seokjin

TW: 18+ only, dubcon/noncon, mental torment, physical torture, mind break, violence, Stockholm syndrome, reader is blinded before events that take place in the story, Jimin is an addict, Yoongi is a sadist, voyeur, fingering.

---

Alone in the bath was your favorite time.

The warm water felt nice on your aching muscles, the relaxing smell of lavender helped calm your anxieties.

You massage the suds into your skin, listening to the trickle of water, wondering where in this massive place your captor, Min Yoongi, might be right now. With your luck, he’s already in his bedroom, waiting for you.

HIS OBSESSION

You hated how even now, finally alone, you still thought of him. You couldn’t escape him, he was with you even when he wasn’t, and you feared no matter what happened in the future, you would never be able to get away, he would always be there, an irritating voice in the back of your head, low and raspy, taunting you.

You were almost grateful you couldn’t see him, you couldn’t stand the thought of his face imprinted behind your eyelids, in your dreams like the way his touches were, the heat of his palm against your skin, against your throat, against your hip-

Min Yoongi…I’ll kill you…

You clenched your jaw in anger, ignoring everything else you felt when you thought of him. When he…

When Yoongi fucked you the white hot rage you felt deep in your chest and the heat of his unforgivable arousal in the pit of your stomach almost became indistinguishable. When you thought of those moments when he was on top of you, and the scorch of his tongue, the searing stretch in between your legs, it made everything inside you feel heavy, feel burning.

It must be a sickness, the way your head feels hot every time you think of it, of him.

You sink lower and kick your feet out of frustration, splashing the water over the tub’s rim.

It’s quiet. There’s a small low voice that reminds you again, it’s been months now and you haven’t seen or heard of Taehyung, or anyone at all.

There’s a lingering thought to drown yourself as you splash aimlessly, and another defiant angry voice that screams you should be drowning Yoongi instead.

Oh you’ve tried to.

To cope with your circumstances you rationalized, he was going to take what he pleases from you anyways, punish you for your continual combativeness, might as well give him a good reason to do it. Still, no matter what you do, overpowering the loan shark never works.

So damn disappointing.

You still remember the time you had stayed here until your toes and fingers became wrinkly, refusing to leave until Yoongi grabbed at you and you pulled him right into this nice large deep bathtub of his.

After the initial shock wore off he easily overpowered you, took advantage of your slippery wet nakedness and fucked you like you hadn’t just tried to murder him.

That time he wasn’t even mad you had soaked his designer suit, you remember how you could hear the smile behind his mocking words while you choked on soapy water, “If you wanted me to join you, you could have just asked.”

You almost managed to drown him again when he came, if you hadn’t needed to breathe as well.

You let the water slosh over the tub’s edge, dunking yourself under the bubbles.

And scream.

You don’t hear the knock on the door, too busy wallowing in your own lavender scented misery. A hand pulls on your shoulder, lifting your head before you can inhale water.

“What?!” you splutter, wiping your face.

“I…” Jungkook clears his throat, looking away from your nakedness, letting his initial worries subside. “You shouldn’t do that,” he mutters.

“Towel,” you say simply. Not in the mood to argue, you stand up. With Yoongi, you are used to his leering presence. He’s already seen every bit of you, and loves reminding you about it when he wants to make you feel humiliated. And now you’ve kind of let your indifference about your body extend to Jungkook as well. You knew he wasn’t going to try anything like the others might have, plus, you enjoy making the henchman stutter.

You feel soft fabric plop against your front, catching it before it falls into the tub. “Hold my shoulder so you don’t slip,” he says.

The edge of the towel exposes the side of you as Jungkook moves your hand to his shoulder. “I need-” His hand wraps around your soaking back, pulling you out of the tub and placing you on tile in one swift motion. “-t-thanks.”

Jungkook hands you a silk robe, a pink short kimono style Yoongi chose for you that Jungkook already knows you’re not going to like. He can’t help but chuckle when he hears you groan, muttering about the thin article of clothing. You turn your head in his direction but you don’t comment on it.

Jungkook leans in the doorway, hands in his pockets, waiting for you.

He’s to deliver you to Mr. Min.

Everyone has good and bad days, today is one of your better days, and also one of Mr. Min’s bad days. He’s had to kill someone, and that means, Min Yoongi is not getting his money and that pisses him off more than anything. That also means with almost certainty Yoongi is going to make today one of your bad days.

Jungkook tries not to think about it as he listens as you hum contently, knowing what’s to come. He glances over at you. Jungkook tries to give you some modesty, but he’s still a man, and a curious one at that. He chooses to ignore that old saying as his eyes linger on your naked body as you dry yourself. As long as he doesn’t touch…

“Have you seen Tae?”

Jungkook might have ignored the question, he has ignored your questioning when it came to such matters, but he feels sorry for you, for what’s to come, and so, in hopes that you won’t let your day be ruined, Jungkook answers.

“Yeah, he came to one of our establishments the other night.”

“Really? Alone? Did you talk to him?”

“He was alone. Usually Mr. Park joins him, but not in a while,” Not since we took you. “He drank,” and fucked a prostitute, but Jungkook decides to leave that out.

“Did he,” you pause, “Did he ask about me?”

You sound so hopeful.

“Yes,” Jungkook says, still waiting by the door.

“He did?” you sound so excited, so happy. Perhaps if you had let his words sink in, you could have noticed the hesitation in his voice. “What did he say? Did you tell him what I told you?”

“He wanted to know how you were being cared for, that he and the others miss you.” Jungkook lies, telling you what he thinks you most want to hear.

You stay quiet and he wonders if you see through his lies. “Did you tell him?”

“I wasn’t able to, Mr. Min was right there. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, next time.” You sound so hopeful, pleased, grateful to him. Jungkook never promised he would tell Taehyung anything for you, and he doubts that coward would do anything with the information if he did. But you still try, asking him sweetly every time, never getting mad when Jungkook gives you another excuse. Your hopes are too high, and Jungkook can’t be the one to destroy them.

You smile in his general direction. You can’t see him, so he lets himself smile back.

-

“We watch and bet, it’s just a couple of us that do it.”

“I want to listen! You have to let me!”

“You really like soccer that much?” Jungkook asks.

“Yes! The announcers are so animated! I can get the jist of it, and our company would hold these big parties on game day and get chicken and beer, just feeling everyone’s energy was so much fun.”

“Um I don't think it will be the same-”

“You telling me gangsters don’t know how to party?”

Jungkook laughs. “Okay okay, I’ll see.”

You laugh happily.

Yoongi can hear your laughter. It’s melodic and pleasant. However Jeon Jungkook’s laughter? Mixing with your own, tainting it?

Yoongi’s short temper has already hit its fuse.

He watches your shadows before you enter the room and the way the larger shadow moves away slightly before you enter. You grip Jungkook’s bicep with one hand and hold his forearm with the other, using both hands, overly touchy…overly affectionate. Yoongi clears his throat.

Jungkook leads you to the loan shark, until you are standing by Yoongi’s side. Only then does Jungkook leave you to take his spot on Yoongi’s other side.

You’re in his office, you presume. Your thigh hits the hard oak of his desk. Yoongi taps his phone. “Translate this.” He plays an audio. The volume is very low, you crouch down to hear it clearer.

“They were talking about their wives,” you frown.

Fucking pigs, you think, and you hope their wives leave them.

Yoongi cracks his knuckles. “That’s it?”

“They were talking about their wives’…private parts,” you cross your arms, disgusted. “I rather not go into detail.”

“Hmm, I thought they were going to double cross me.” He finally relaxes, pulling your body closer, he sets you into his lap.

You’ve learned a few things about Yoongi, the biggest revelation was that he was extremely paranoid. “Well they still could,” you note, poking at his paranoia. You lean your back against him, just to feel more comfortable, “but no, that conversation was not about that.”

“We’re going back to Japan at the end of the month.” You stiffen in his hold. “Tokyo this time, we’ll be staying for a few weeks.”

“Two weeks? Are you setting up another parlor?”

“Close,” Yoongi clicks his tongue, amused by your curiosity of his dealings. “We have a few host bars there, just checking in. There are some regulars with high tabs we’re going to be…visiting. Need you there.”

You exhale, fingers fiddling with the string of your robe, “Okay.”

Translating for a bunch of blubbering business men begging for forgiveness, or a longer extension, or just another chance at life, was such a stark contrast from the bubbly television interviews you used to do.

But there was always a fakeness during press junkets that you really hated. All of it felt like such a shallow performance, and it made you feel like a circus animal at times, putting on a show, no matter how offensive the question, no matter how you felt, you had to smile and translate with a happy face.

Hell, there’s no superficiality around you now, even if Yoongi’s targets sure put on a performance…

Traveling with the loan shark really showed you how dark the depths of humanity could sink. There was rawness and realness to the underground scene that you could just feel in the air, swirling amongst the cigarette smoke.

No bullshitting, no pleasantries, straight to business. It was one of the few things you didn’t actually hate about this predicament you were in, the few moments where you felt like you had some power.

You were the voice of the most powerful man in the room, and by extension that meant your voice held power. The men in the room would, sometimes quite literally, be hanging on your next words.

If you didn’t like the men you were translating for, you weren’t afraid to make it obvious to the loan shark in your translations, and he would seem to punish them harsher for it. It’s happened so many times now that it was no longer a coincidence to you.

Now if only he would listen to you on other matters…

Yoongi drapes his hand over your front, under the opening in your robe. You don’t flinch like before, what’s the point in flinching? Yoongi will just grab at you tighter, make it hurt if you do.

“You smell good.” Yoongi’s nose tickles your neck.

You cough. “I just took a bath.”

He runs his hand across your suppleness, pinching your nipple.

He knows you are holding it in, staying quiet to spite him, it’s amusing to him, so he continues to play with you, letting your robe open wider and wider until he hears someone clear their throat.

Jungkook turns to leave.

“Jeon, stay.”

Jungkook was wrong.

Yoongi wasn’t going to take out his anger on you.

He was going to take it out on him.

“Why are you doing this?” you mutter, not used to an audience. Usually Yoongi isolates you to his bedroom when he’s home and he’s surprisingly quite professional when you’re out in company, even if everyone knew what he did to you behind closed doors.

“He is not bothered,” Yoongi turns his chair so he and you are facing Jungkook, “Are you, Jeon?” he asks the young gangster. He yanks one of your legs open.

“No.” It’s flat. It’s a lie. Jungkook knows Yoongi doesn’t want to hear the truth.

“Well I fucking mind!”

You yell when he grabs you by the neck. “You don’t have to always do what he says, you know. You’re not like me,” you swallow, speaking to Jungkook. You’re not weak like me, you imply.

“Hohoho.” Yoongi laughs. “Hear that, want to rebel against your mean old boss, Jeon?” he hums. “Did you ever think all those nice things our Jungkookie does for you is because I ask him to? To keep an eye on you, you do your job better when you’re not a mopey brat. You should be on your knees thanking me for giving you a friend.”

“Fuck you.”

“What did you say? Say that louder.”

You stay quiet, head down.

“I could have made him be the one to dole out your punishments. Jungkook is skilled with a knife. He has a taste for blood, did you know that? People call him The Maestro…when we need someone to sing, we send him. After enough time, there's a certain pitch everyone gets to, of screaming. His favorite method is fileting his victims until they sing that tune. You know what that means? Pulling the skin back until you see muscle.” You shiver when he runs his fingertips across your arm. “That’s the kind of man he is.” Your stomach flips at his words.

“Every bit of kindness is because of me.”

“I know,” you mutter.

“SO YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Can I go, Sir?” Jungkook speaks up.

“No. Stay right there,” he says, undoing the tie around your waist. “Jeon, like what you see?”

“No.” Jungkook knew better than to ever admit he had grown fond of what Yoongi deemed was his.

“No? But she’s pretty,” he says, uncovering everything, pulling your legs open wider. “And so tight.”

You cry out, wanting nothing more than to attack the loan shark for putting you on display like this, and it takes every ounce of restraint to not fight him…to not close your legs...

“Feel for yourself, touch her.”

“Sir?” Jungkook looks very displeased at being roped into this.

“Come here and touch her.” Yoongi waits and smiles as he watches Jungkook hesitantly step closer.

“Please, don’t,” you whimper.

“I thought you would enjoy this. Since you are so close now, chit-chatting and making jokes all the time, hm? Don’t you ever think about-” Yoongi puts his hand between your legs, “-what it would be like? You can’t see, but our Jungkookie is very handsome.” Yoongi’s lips brush against your ear.

“I only think about ways to please you, Sir,” you grit out very unconvincingly.

Yoongi laughs. “You don’t want Jungkook to touch you like this?”

You try to ignore the pressure of his fingers inside you. You couldn’t bring yourself to confirm such a thing in front of the young gangster, so you admit something just as horrible. “Just you, I just want you.”

Yoongi presses his lips against yours, so forcefully you feel your teeth knock against his and you yelp, pushing him away, clearly disgusted.

You can’t hide your hatred for him when he does that, when he kisses you like that. Even with his hands groping you, fingering you, kissing Yoongi just feels worse, feels wrong.

Yoongi grabs your chin, pulling your head back to him. Yoongi eyes the man in front of him whose gaze hasn’t left a particular painting on his wall. Jungkook refuses to look at you like this.

That just won’t do.

“You know what I think? I think someone has a little crush. And I know it’s not you,” he murmurs in your ear.

Jungkook glances over to his boss. He has you spread over his legs, his fingers pressed deep inside your cunt as you shake against him.

“You’ll say whatever sweet little words you can think of to worm your way in my mens’ good graces, so convinced they will help you escape eventually,” he says. Yoongi manages to keep the tempo in his ministrations precise, pressing into you deeper, thumb circling your clit in such a mind numbing way you feel like your body is catching fire.

“Why would I try something so stupid?” you grunt.

“They won’t betray me, you know.”

“Oh, I know. How nice it must be for you,” you mock. “How many men did you say you have killed for crossing you again?”

Yoongi’s temper rises as you hit a nerve for him. He pushes you off his lap, and you fall at Jungkook’s feet, knees scraping against Yoongi’s hard wood flooring.

You lean against Jungkook, curled into yourself, pulling your robe closed.

Yoongi watches as you move closer to Jungkook like a scared child looking for comfort. “Jeon, punish her.” He stands up, anger overflowing. “Hurt her, since that’s what she seems to want instead. NOW!” he yells.

Jungkook looks down at you and sighs exasperatedly.

There are a million and one different things a man could do to a woman to hurt her…

What will Jungkook pick?

Jungkook lifts you to your feet by your hair, making you cry out in pain. He ignores it, whatever he is feeling. He’s done it so many times it’s come natural: dissociating from the situation.

“It’s okay, do it, I don’t blame you.”

Goddammit, Jungkook inwardly curses. Don’t you see how much worse you are making it for yourself? Why did you say that? To make Jungkook feel better about this frustrating situation he’s in? Jungkook doesn’t have any feelings…

Yoongi raises his brow and grinds his teeth, crossing his arms, waiting impatiently for Jungkook to do something.

Jungkook releases you and for a fleeting moment you believed he was going to refuse.

In that moment you actually believed he would go against Yoongi.

In that moment you were relieved.

And then you felt a stinging across your cheek, so hard you toppled over.

“Not her face!”

Before you can cry out, a fierce kick into your stomach knocks the wind out of you, once, then twice more. Jungkook has to make sure Yoongi sees he doesn’t care about what happens to you.

You bring your knees into your body and cradle your head, not knowing where Jungkook might strike next. You're sure he’s pulling his punches for you, but holy shit it hurts, and you can’t imagine just how strong he really is. You shake from head to toe, and finally your muscles decompress and you’re able to inhale and catch your breath.

You roll over on your back, waiting for what’s next as you take in deep breaths. Jungkook grips your robe, lifting your body.

This isn’t going how either men want. Jungkook stands over over, staring at the blood dripping from your lip, frozen in place. Yoongi can see the remorse twisting in Jungkook’s expression and how you are taking the beating in strides, lips pressed together in determination.

You are an exceptionally annoying martyr. You sacrificed yourself for Jimin and now, Yoongi now sees with a sick realization, you think you are doing it for Jungkook. His Jungkook.

“Jeon…” Yoongi looks down at you, clenching his fist. “...leave.”

Yoongi will make you regret this. The loan shark really couldn’t help himself. It was going to be him and no one else…

Jungkook looks back one last time before closing the door, and sees a glimpse of your glowering expression as his boss stands over you and pulls off his jacket. Jungkook was always calm, always collected, yet in that moment, his heart rate jumps.

-

Yoongi got what he wanted in the end, Jungkook was keeping his distance from you now, ignoring you almost completely when he was around.

You’re annoyed, stuck having to listen to your new “handler” Jon explain in excruciating detail his recent trip to Phuket. He’s the only other one of Yoongi’s men you can stand to be around for extended periods of time, but if you have to listen to another pun involving fornication in Phuket you’re going to jam something in your eardrums!

“What about you?”

“What about me?” you hum bored.

“...so, miss y/n. I have to confess, I did some research on you after what we talked about,” he lowers his voice. “You’re kind of a celebrity. Can I have your autograph?”

You laugh. “Shut up! JTJ are the celebrities, I was just along for the ride,” you pausing. “Any recent headlines that I might be interested in?”

“Well, the hot news is that JTJ have postponed their next album.”

“Really? I wonder why,” you ask, concerned. “Have, um, are there any articles about…what happened?”

“Nothing, only a forum thread between their fans speculating if you got fired. Boss man really worked his magic.”

You sigh, flopping over on the couch.

“Jon, any chance you’d drop me off at the corner store no questions asked?” You have begged to be released so many times now your enthusiasm has all dried up.

“Sorry honey, but I intend to live a long life.”

You snort. “As a gangster? Good luck.”

“Ha!” Jon goes uncharacteristically quiet. “How much did you say that debt of your boy was?”

You snort at the implication that Jimin, the elusive idol, was in any way ‘yours.’ “Eight billion won, something like that,” you huff.

You suspect Jon’s wincing as he sharply inhales. “Ahh shit.”

“Yeah, shit.” You change the subject. “You coming to Japan with us this time?”

“That I am!”

“Wonderful,” you say, emotionless.

“Now about that autograph.”

“You’re joking-” you cough out surprised.

“I printed out a picture and everything!”

“You’re ridiculous!” you laugh. Your fingers run over a piece of paper Jon places in your hands. “What picture?” you ask unable to contain your amusement.

“Well, there was an interview in France, you’re wearing a bright orange dress, looking like a real bigshot, I took a screenshot of it.”

“Orange, really?” you grimace, you never really questioned what coordinators put you in and it’s not like you could see yourself but you still had pride in your appearance.

“You looked nice, you match the others.”

“JTJ?” you perk up.

“Yep, well…I cropped them out.”

You giggle. You hold the picture in your hands delicately. You wish you could see the photo, see how you look now and how you might have fit in with them.

“Yeah, I’ll sign it, you weirdo.”

A pen is placed in your hands. Any other day you would have thought to jam it in your eye and end it all. Today, you try your best to scribble your name down for Jon and feel like your old self.

---

“What’s this?”

“You don’t recognize them?”

“I do, but-” You believed Yoongi had destroyed all your things in his anger. “You kept them?” You rummage through a whole box of your books that Yoongi has unceremoniously dropped at your feet.

“Yes. Here, some new books for you too.” Yoongi drops a few clean and crisp books into your lap, the pages not bent and worn from multiple readings like yours were.

You want to question why now all of a sudden, but you were too afraid the temperamental man might take your questioning wrongly and take away his gift as quickly as he gave it to you.

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Pick one and come with me.” You let him lead you. You suspect he did this because you’ve become practically mute around him, refusing to speak to him until your trip to Japan.

Who knew the silent treatment would actually work. You hold the book close to your chest while Yoongi drives. It’s a long drive, you try to keep track of every turn and stop but it’s impossible.

“What place is this?” It didn’t smell like smoke or alcohol or sweat, the regular scents that usually assaulted you when you went out with the loan shark. It smelled like…baked bread.

“Just read your book.” Yoongi leads you to a cushioned seat and hands you a drink, and when you place the straw to your lips you sip on something sweet and milky, a rich coffee concoction. Yoongi sits next to you, clears his throat and doesn’t say another word.

You flip through the first pages of your book. Is this some business thing…or is this another trick… You remembered the last time you felt disarmed like this.

You remain stiff, sipping on your coffee and slowly reading. The sounds and chatter around you could only mean you’re in a cafe. There’s thousands of cafes just in the city alone, who knows where you could be. Yoongi’s arm rests on the seat behind you, his fingers touching your shoulder every couple of minutes to remind you of his presence, as if you could ever forget him.

You finish another page, flipping the paper. “Is there…someone I know around?” you ask, trying to sound uninterested, thinking this really was a scenario like last time.

“No, but if there was, what do you think you’re going to do?” He sounds just as uninterested.

“I’ll scream-”

Yoongi’s lips brush across your cheek. “Then I’ll kill him. Not now, but I will kill him.” He leans back again. “Maybe I just wanted a croissant, this place has the best in Seoul. Want to try?”

You grunt, too confused to do anything else but open your mouth when he puts the half eaten pastry to your lips. It’s flaky and buttery with rich custard and burnt sugar on the top, it really is one of the best desserts you’ve ever eaten.

Part of you almost played along. You were about to just succumb to whatever this was, an odd date between the two of you, and suck it up and enjoy yourself. You almost reached out to him, you almost thanked him.

“If you think doing this will make me hate you any less-”

“You are so very stubborn-”

“You are the most stubborn!” You hiss back, “I don’t understand you. I don’t want to be here with you, I don’t want to be around you- s-stop…” Yoongi grips your hand, thumb rubbing circles along your palm, and doesn’t stop even when you go quiet.

“Just drink your coffee and enjoy your book,” he says. His deep voice holds none of his usual berating tone. You wouldn’t dare call it soft, but...

“Why am I here?” you persist.

“Didn’t you tell my men you wanted to go out? That you missed going to places like cafes?” You bite your tongue. Jon is such a snitch. “We can do this again, we can do this as many times you want-”

“The ruthless gangster will spend his precious time at cafes for me?” you ask suspiciously.

“Is that what you want?”

You didn't know if this was what you wanted, being with him, was it really better than being stuck in his home alone? At least this meant you might have a chance at getting away…

“How long do I get?” You finally relax into your seat, opening your book again.

Yoongi smirks. “We’ll see, I am in no rush today.”

Yoongi watches you read, glancing every once in a while and then staring at nothing else but you, unable to look away as you run your fingers along each page, slow at times and fast at other times, like you were trying to get to the end of the scene quickly, your lips would curl up and you would sit up straighter in excitement, and then your movements would slow and your fingers would go over a line once more as you quietly laughed to yourself.

You had your head down at first, then you looked up and far away, as if you were imagining the story in front of you. Yoongi wondered what it was exactly that you would think of, how much could you still remember by your own memory.

“I can feel you staring,” you huff, turning in his direction.

“Not me,” he grunts, lying.

“Ah,” you hum, head tilting, “Well, they will do that, or try to completely ignore me. There’s never really an in between with strangers I’ve noticed. I guess it’s a good thing I can’t see them staring… Two good eyes and can’t mind their own business,” you mutter.

“Lucky for me, I’m sure you would call them out, probably try to start a fight.”

You snort. Eventually your fingers slowed to a stop and you dogeared the page, closing the book. You picked up your glass and finished the drink, ice now melted to the coffee and watering down the strong flavor. Shame, you liked it strong.

“Ready to go home?”

You looked anxious over the question. You tightened your grip on your glass. “We really came just to go to a cafe, no other places you had to go?” you ask suspiciously.

Yoongi crosses his arms. Of course, you would suspect ulterior motives from him, but this time, the loan shark really did not have any other preoccupations, he only wanted to see how you would react out in public with him like this, if you could be trusted with some freedom. You were not falling into line as the other men did, but you did seem more…tame.

He tests you. “Actually, we are going to make a stop at one of my clubs. Lets go.” You seem to relax at that, like you’ve just guessed the right answer to a question asked of you, like you knew all along Yoongi wasn’t really doing this just for you, but for him, confirming he was still the selfish loan shark you had grown to know.

“That was quick,” you deflate when Yoongi steps back into the car after reaching the location to his club. You were building up the courage to try to test the door before he was already back and starting the car. As Yoongi drove in silence there was a nagging inside you, a question you did not want to know the answer to when he had told you, you did not need to actually come inside with him. It sat in the pit of your stomach and flipped around when his hand moved to your leg and rested on your thigh. Did he really just want to go to a cafe with you after all? What did Yoongi want from you?

---

“What are you doing?”

You flinch, removing your hand off of Yoongi’s jaw. You didn’t know he had woken up.

“Trying to kill me in my sleep?” Yoongi grunts.

“Yes,” you say. It was a lie, you both knew it. You don’t know why you did it, or perhaps you just did not want to admit it.

You had woken up with him tangled around you, your naked bodies interweaved together under sheets, his skin against yours warm. It was not overbearing, it was an inviting heat, enveloping you.

You woke up still groggy from sleep and you didn’t think about how much you hated the man who was holding you softly.

You reached out and touched him just to feel a little less lonely. You’ve felt so alone now without the few interactions from Jungkook you had grown so accustomed to. The loneliness, it had become gnawing at you horribly, and it was a cruel irony Yoongi was the only one who was able to lessen it for you.

Yoongi grunts and rolls on top of you. His hands wrap around your wrists as he lifts himself up to look at you. He studies your unease. You can feel his morning wood pressing against you. You hold your breath, expecting him to continue from last night’s activities, but he doesn’t, just drops down, letting go of your wrists, resting his head against your naked chest, deciding to go back to sleep. It surprises you. Yoongi must be tired…

You don’t know what to do with your hands, so you just keep them beside your head as you listen to his steady breathing.

You want to go back to sleep, so you don’t think about him…

So you don’t have to think about how you want to hold him…

The need twists in your gut, makes you queasy, makes you want to cry out in frustration, but you just lay there, unwilling to accept the same man who was causing you this turmoil was also simultaneously bringing you a comfort.

You will yourself to fantasize about ways to kill him instead, but your fantasies don’t seem to bring you as much joy as before, instead there is another unfamiliar twisting in your stomach, a pain stabbing you right in the center where he is laying.

And eventually you do fall asleep under his embrace.

-

“Anything else, Sir?”

Yoongi goes through the folder of photos his associate has handed to him. He holds up one in particular, studying the couple in front of him. “Find out more about her, the new girl. Get in close, use your charm,” he smirks. He holds the photo under the light of his lamp. Even if the picture is a bit grainy, the discoloration right under the sleeve of her shirt is unmistakable.

Jungkook, positioned at his right side, leans over. “So this is him?”

“Mhm,” Yoongi hums, grin widening.

If Jungkook had any protests or questions, he didn’t speak them. It wouldn’t have changed the loan shark’s mind anyways. When blood is in the water, a shark can only think of one thing.

He flips through more photos, choosing ones in a different folder already on his desk. Very old photos, photos of a younger brighter face version of yourself. These photos you kept in an album tucked away in the back of your closet, in a box with your old wedding ring and other memories you weren’t able to part with, hoping someday you will be able to flip through the pages again with new working eyes. Then you could decide what memories deserve to be revisited and what memories deserve to be burned.

You must have liked swimming, there’s many photos of yourself at the beach with friends. Bowling and roller blading, activities you enjoyed in the past, told a story of the person you were before you lost your vision. Yoongi stares at the candid shots of you, staring at your eyes.

Other than the obvious, Yoongi notes there is something vastly different about you now.

Yoongi likes you better now.

The younger version of you stares at him with light behind her eyes. You still have that, the light is just burning, glowing in you like embers.

As a kid, Yoongi liked to poke at fires, stir the embers with a stick and watch the flames dance. When the fire would roar and crackle and burst bigger as a gust of wind blew the flames, and others would instinctively step back, Yoongi would instinctively step closer, mesmerized.

He would feel that similar pull, that instinctive desire to be closer when that fire inside you would blaze and try to scorch him.

There are moments when you burn so bright, held tight in his arms. It was so hot, it was addicting feeling you. It was becoming something he needed, after a long day of dealing with frustratingly stupid people, dull and boring people, people like a Park Jimin, sheltered and coddled, weak fires that, in Yoongi’s opinion, deserved to be snuffed out.

Not like you. You were an inferno.

After months with him you were becoming fevered as well, ignited by his stroking of you, his fingers around you and inside you. You would burn for him so prettily when he filled your heat and tightened his grip on you.

There are moments when you let your instincts take over, when your pleasure is mounting, and he is angling his hips into you steadily and stroking your heat so perfectly, building you up to the point where you don’t think and don’t feel exactly how you wish, when you dig your nails into his arms, wrap your legs tight around his hips, when you don’t resist his heated kisses, when you kiss him back….

Those nights, he can taste you fully, sweet and soft and so hot.

Like fire, it’s dangerous kissing you.

Yoongi is becoming obsessed.

He picks up his ledger, going back to business, the photos of you still scattered across his desk. Jungkook tries to keep his eyes from wandering, but he is a curious man.

“Should I get y/n for you?” Jungkook suddenly asks. He wants a reason, he wants an excuse…

“No,” Yoongi mutters, “let her rest.”

-

Now when Yoongi leaves you alone, he doesn’t lock you in his room, he is becoming lax with you finally. Perhaps he thinks you have really given up, that his methods have finally chained you mentally enough that he no longer needed real chains.

His mistake. The loan shark rarely makes them, but in your case, he’s had some…misjudgements.

Once you leave Yoongi’s room, if you turn to your right and follow the wall, you’ll eventually end up at the stairs. You pass by four doors before then, one you believe was the room you used to have, and another you think might be Jungkook’s room, as the young gangster is always in this house somewhere, like he must live with the loan shark. You’ve tried to jiggle the handles a few times on your trek to see if a door might open, but the rooms on the second floor are usually locked.

Downstairs is more complicated, you’ve tried to make sense of it, but there is always someone to stop you before you can explore too much. You know exactly where the kitchen is, because it is the one place it seems you’re not allowed to be under any circumstances. Anytime you would get close to the area, someone would offer to get you food instead, or lead you to a bar stool to wait.

The sounds of cooking are far from where they sit you, too far for you to run and try to open a drawer and search for a knife without getting caught. And the thought will only rarely cross your mind now, you would much rather have some good food.

Tonight however, you had overheard Yoongi was going to be out until tomorrow evening, so you try again to search for an escape.

What’s the worst thing that could happen?

-

Jungkook scrolls through his phone, his one leg propped up on the small side table he is leaning on. He looks up as he hears a faint click coming from down the hall.

He sees a hand reach out cautiously before you reveal yourself, pressing yourself against the wall before moving slowly closer.

You reach the next door and grip the handle. It doesn’t budge and you sigh, moving along.

‘All locked,’ you think disappointedly before spinning around. “Who’s there? I know someone is there!” You whisper. After a long silence you slump against the wall. “Am I hearing things now?” you mutter to yourself. You wait at the top of the staircase trying to hear for voices or movement, any indication someone might be awake like you.

Well, no stopping now. You move back and forth down the stairs strategically missing all the creaky steps you’ve hit on previous occasions.

Jungkook follows your pattern, only two steps behind.

Okay, now you are definitely feeling spooked. A shiver runs down your spine. Is it because it’s night time? Is this house haunted? Just how many people have been killed here?

You hesitate half way down. You still can’t hear anything downstairs, so you take your chances. You’ll explore as much as you can, learn as much as you can, and then, figure out an escape plan!

Even if you could go for a late night snack, you avoid the kitchen. Learning what else might be downstairs is more important. This house is massive, there’s an echoing to voices sometimes. Yoongi must not have it very furnished. Despite his greedy nature, Yoongi never seemed to be too extravagant with such things.

If you go to the left, you’ll reach the kitchen. If you go forward, you’ll find a sectional where Yoongi’s underlings will be lounging about during the day. You’ve never ever heard a television, instead you’ll hear the familiar slaps of playing cards, another game you could no longer play without a special set you were too prideful to ask for.

You couldn’t risk going forward and to the front door. You’re sure a man like Yoongi had a security system. But maybe, maybe if you could find a window… So you move toward the only direction you have yet to explore.

What’s this? It’s sleek, it’s too big to be a window. Is it a door to the backyard?

You feel the rush of excitement and fear pump through your veins as you find the handle, but you have to be cautious, doors could set off the security system he might or might not have. It frustrates you how many things you have to speculate about, how many things you don’t know.

For all you know there are probably cameras watching you at this very moment! Yet, no one has tried to stop you. Should you just risk it and try to run before he sends someone to collect you?

No, you decide to keep searching.

You finally find an open door. You step inside and follow the walls around, a window! It’s covered by a drape. You bend down, running your hands over the window sill. Finally.

You stand up and keep moving, curious what else you can find before you attempt to open it. You move towards the room’s center.

It’s a table, but you don’t see it for what it is, your legs hit the edge and it reminds you of Yoongi’s desk in his office and you panic, thinking of how much trouble you will be in if he found you there, and you stumble backward.

You stumble backward into a warm body.

Hands wrap around you, cover your mouth before you can scream, and pin down your arms.

You breathe heavily into his palm, frozen in fright.

“Shhh.”

You swallow down tears, catching your cries in your throat. He holds you so tight around the waist it stings. You can’t move or scream, so you wait, expecting the worst. The worst is what always happens.

“I’m going to let go now. Don’t scream.”

Jungkook?!

“Hey!” Jungkook lets you go and you shove him away.

In your panic, you’ve decided to just fuck it, and run to escape.

You stumble, shoulders hitting the door frame, falling when your foot hits what you think is a chair leg. You scrape your palm bracing yourself when you hit the floor. You can hear Jungkook right behind you. He’s going to bend down and grab at you, you are already expecting it, so you kick your leg out.

He grunts in pain so you know you’ve gotten a good kick in and you scramble to your feet, knocking into walls and furniture, searching for the glass door you felt before.

You click the lock down and yank the door open, security system be damned!

You start to run. The soles of your feet hit jagged concrete, and then…air?!

Nope, that’s a pool, you realize as you fall into water. Dammit.

You swim to the surface and hear another loud splash as you wade in water.

Did he just jump in?!

That was dumb of him. You swim hastily, a second surge of energy rushing through you, you search for the pool’s edge. Your tiny dress still feels like it weighs a ton when you heave yourself over the edge, knees scraping as you crawl out.

You can hear him already mimicking your actions as he pulls himself out of the water quicker than you thought possible. You crawl quickly away from the noise, using every bit of the energy left inside you, you dig your heels and palms into the earth.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s entire weight is on top of you, stopping your crawl to freedom.

Jungkook grabs your wrists as you claw at dirt. “Stop!” he grunts, yelling, “There’s a ledge here, you’re going to fall off of it and die!” He moves one of your arms out above your head, letting you feel the steep slant of earth downward.

In that moment, you don’t care. This is the closest you’ve gotten to freedom in so long! It’s been so long since you’ve felt grass and dirt and earth. You used to go hiking with Namjoon all the time, you used to breathe in the cool fresh morning air almost every weekend with him.

Your heart aches when you remember the way he would lead you over steep rocks, his fingers interlaced with yours, the way he would explain the scenery and overlooks and sunsets and sunrises to you so animatedly, you could hear the reverence of what he could see in his voice. You cry with your head buried in the tall grass thinking of Namjoon and the freedom you had. In that moment, you would rather throw yourself off a cliff.

“Don’t take me in, please. Just let me stay outside a bit longer,” you hiccup.

Jungkook rests over you until you both calm down, until he finally rolls off of you, sighing, looking at the night sky. “You know…” he pauses. “If you want to go outside, you can just ask-”

“I don’t want to–” you grit out angrily. “I don’t want to ask for permission like a child. I don’t want to be let outside like a dog! I don’t want– I can’t– Jungkook,” your bottom lip trembles as you suck in air. You let the grass blades tickle your face as you hold yourself together, “I feel like I’m not myself anymore. I-” you can’t continue, you won’t dare admit to him what sick feelings that have grabbed a hold of you.

His cold wet hand touches your cheek, why does it warm you up so suddenly?

“Where have you been?!” you cry, fist hitting what you assume is his chest. Yoongi, that bastard was right, Jungkook was the closest thing you had to a friend here. You didn’t want to believe he was just as cruel as Yoongi, you didn’t want to believe it!

“It’s safer for you if you stay away from me,” he says softly. Or bluntly. How could you ever really know if you can’t see the longing look he gives you?

You stay quiet, holding in your objections. You aren’t going to argue with him, you were a fool to care at all about someone who didn’t care at all about you; a criminal; one of your captors. Your eyes sting as Yoongi’s words replayed in your mind, Jungkook saw you as a job, he was being nice because Yoongi told him to, he didn’t want to be around you.

You shiver, hugging yourself. You pull at the tall blades of grass, thinking of Namjoon instead, letting yourself be carried far away from here. Your body couldn’t escape, but your mind could. You hum to yourself.

It was a tune Namjoon played over and over for you, a song of his that didn’t make the cut, it was too soft and sweet, didn’t fit with his persona, yet it was your favorite.

Jungkook sits in his wet clothes uncomfortably, watching you, listening to your sad soft humming as the night starts brightening, and he has no choice but to act. He lifts your defeated body into his arms. “We’re not going to tell anyone about this.”

“About what?” you grumble, shivering in the cold.

-

Jungkook sets you in the bathtub, in your clothes, the wet fabric of your dress clinging to you and leaving nothing to the imagination. You can hear the knobs squeak as he turns on the warm water. You reach out and grab his soaking jacket, gripping it tight.

“What are you doing, y/n?”

“You’re cold too.” Jungkook pulls away but you hold on tighter.

“I can’t be in here with you.”

“If you leave now, I swear I will drown myself.” You know you shouldn’t force him to be here with you, but you were desperate, lonely, you didn’t care how uncomfortable you were making him if it meant you felt a little less insane.

Suddenly Jungkook moves closer to you, entering the large bath. He grips your knee, bending your leg.

“W-What are you doing?!” A flood of emotions rush through you, so many at once you don’t know what you’re feeling when he begins to touch you.

“You’re bruised everywhere,” he mutters, gripping your elbow and turning your arm. “I’m going to have to tell him you tried to escape.”

He sounds frustrated. You accept your fate but it doesn’t make it any easier, knowing Yoongi will lock you up once again, no doubt find some creative way to torture you for trying to leave.

The bathtub steadily fills with water, and the uncomfortable weight on you lessens as the water surrounds your bodies.

You haven’t let go of him, but you move your grip slightly, feeling for buttons, and once you find them, you start to unbutton his shirt.

If someone were to ask you why you did it, you wouldn’t have been able to articulate a reason, your fingers were working of their own accord, listening to something inside you you couldn’t even hear yourself.

Jungkook hasn’t moved, he holds himself up, gripping the tub’s edges with both hands until you reach the end and push away the fabric. By now the water has filled the tub enough that you float against him. You push both his shirt and jacket off his shoulders.

You place your palm on his chest, you can’t feel the tattoos etched across his skin, you weren’t aware of the extent of his ink markings, but you can feel the cold metal of his nipple piercing and you let out a small gasp in surprise.

Jungkook hasn’t moved, so you let your hand travel down his torso, fingers running along the contours of his muscles, until you reach his belt, his pants, your palm laying along his zipper.

Jungkook is stiffening under your palm and you gasp louder.

Jungkook finally moves, pulling your wrist away. He holds it tight against the cool ceramic of the tub. “Don’t…don’t make me hurt you.”

You were so used to pain, his warning didn’t deter you how he expected. You wanted him to hurt you. You wanted someone, anyone else, other than Yoongi to think about.

Even when he tightened his grip until you could feel the pain sting into your bones, you didn’t flinch, you didn’t tell him to stop. You let out a silent gasp this time, arching your back against him, and Jungkook saw you were more dangerous than he had believed.

If you could have seen him you could have ruined him.

You gently run your other hand down his body, let your legs wrap around him, listening to his breathing grow louder.

He stands up suddenly. “Wash the chlorine out of your hair, don’t tell Mr. Min anything.”

You pause, “Tell him what?”

Dangerous. Jungkook clears his mind of you, focusing on cleaning the house of da what happened.

When later that day, Yoongi teased you about falling down the stairs, you knew Jungkook did what you had been waiting for, for so long…

…He lied for you.

-

“What’s this?”

You hold the sleek piece of technology in your hand.

Is this…a cell phone?

“You’re going to say hello and tell her you’ve taken a job out of the country, and you’re going to make it sound convincing. And if you don’t, if she doesn’t believe you, I’m going to go to her tiny one bedroom Gangnam apartment off of Inchon-ro and I’m going to kill her.” Yoongi says coldly.

You hold your breath. What? Who? What?!

Yoongi crouches down to your level, watching you so close he could see each of your individual eyelashes as you blinked rapidly.

According to Taehyung, for some reason, one of JTJ’s makeup artists, the girl who used to help you with your makeup, has started asking about your whereabouts.

She’s questioning other staff, wondering why you haven’t answered any of her calls or texts, with incessant suspicions upon why you have suddenly disappeared without any warning. She’s causing others to wonder as well.

Even if you had quit on bad terms like what they’ve been telling her, you would have still answered her! It just doesn’t make any sense, she thinks, you were so happy the morning before, making plans with her and the others to have dinner the next day-

She even wanted to get in contact with your family, Taehyung told him worriedly.

“Okay,” you nod.

Her ringtone, JTJ’s first chart topping song plays in your ear as you try to settle your breathing.

“Hello?” she answers. Your heart rate suddenly jumps and the pounding is all you can hear as you recognize her voice.

Yoongi grips your leg, fingers digging, shaking it. “Minah?! Hey, it’s y/n-”

“Y/n!” she gasps, “Oh my god! Oh my god! Girl, what the hell? What happened?! Where did you go?”

Yoongi grips your knee tight. “I’m fine, I’m okay. Sorry, I’ve just been setting up my new place, I-”

“You haven’t answered my calls, not even my texts,” she says, hurt. “They told me you quit? What happened?!”

“Y-Yes. I did, I uhh, I know it’s gonna sound crazy, but I was offered this amazing job-”

“What?! Where? With who?!”

“In J-Japan, it’s a really good job, I get my own office and everything. After that tour, I just really couldn’t do it anymore, it’s just a lot, you know, that lifestyle.” You pray she doesn’t try to get you to answer her other questions.

“What?” she sounds even less convinced, pausing. “Is this your new number?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry for missing all your calls, my cell was from the company, so I had to surrender it. I really wanted to call you sooner, but it’s just been so hectic…” You hope she believes your lies.

“Anytime I bring you up, the boys act…weird. You just d-disappeared, I-I thought something horrible happened-”

“I’m fine! I think they are just upset, it was such a sudden thing-”

“It was!” She sounds mad. “They told me you were sick when you didn’t show up for our celebration dinner, and then when you weren’t on the plane, they told me you just…left?! No one knew why!” She sounds even angrier.

“Yeah. Yeah, I left, I’m really sorry I didn’t say goodbye.” The words catch in your throat and come out stilted and choppy. You have to get it together.

“But why-”

You take a deep breath, terrified for your friend.

“Listen, Minah, that night I got into a big fight with Jimin, and I just thought it was best for me to just leave. I really didn’t mean to worry you, b-but this is a once in a lifetime job,” you swallow, trying to keep your voice light and happy. “I had to take it.”

“Oh, okay.” Your lie seems to answer some of her worries. “Have you talked to Jimin since then? He’s just been so…he doesn’t seem like himself since you left. I think he really misses you.”

“Oh, really? No, I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to him.” Your heart is pounding.

“Yeah, talk to him, please! I think he finally realizes what he lost. Everytime I bring you up…no wonder… I told you, didn’t I! He likes you!” she says, sounding happier. “Japan is not too far away, you should go for it now that you’re not under the same company! He is totally heartbroken over you.”

You laugh awkwardly. “Jimin is like my brother!”

“Yeah yeah,” she laughs, sighing. “You two are both hopeless I guess. I miss you, promise me we’ll meet up next time JTJ has a schedule in Japan.”

“I’m s-so busy, but yeah.” Your hand trembles so badly you’re worried the phone will slip between your fingers at any moment.

“Promise!”

“I, um, promise. I miss you, Minah.”

“I miss you too!”

“I really miss you.”

“You okay? Do you like your job? They haven’t gotten a new translator since you left! You could come back, honestly, I’m sure they would take you! Joon has been translating for everyone and I’m sure he would love you back,” she jokes.

“I love my new job.” God, you hope she can’t hear the shake in your voice. “But I really have to go, I am glad I got to talk to you. I might not be able to talk for a while though, but I’m okay!”

“Yeah?”

“Oh! Can you tell Taehyung something?”

“What?”

Yoongi’s presence is suddenly everywhere as you stutter out your last sentence. “It’s about that Blue Moonlight song he’s been working on with-”

The phone clicks as Yoongi snatches it away, and you feel the coldness of loneliness creep back into your body.

“You better hope she’s as dense as she sounds,” he threatens.

“Don’t you dare touch her!”

“You know what? I think we should take a visit to Taehyung then, and listen to that new song of his,” he says, gripping the back of your neck.

You swallow, excitement and fear swirling in the pit of your stomach and rising the bile into your throat.

-

Yoongi leans against his Rolls Royce smoking a cigarette.

The door opens and someone sits next to you.

“Y/n.”

“T-Tae?!”

You try not to burst into tears. You frantically reach out to him, and his slender fingers wrap around yours, gripping your hand tightly as he scoots next to you. Then you really burst, crying against him.

You quickly try to pull yourself together, whispering, “Did you get my message?”

“Um, yeah. Blue Moonlight, I’m guessing it's more than just a song title?” He whispers.

“Moonlight Blue.” You repeat the phrase in Thai. “Are w-we alone?” you whisper.

Taehyung eyes the shadow against the window as Yoongi lights up another cigarette. “Yeah, yeah.”

“It’s a club in Thailand. If you take a detective there, in the women’s restroom, inside the second bathroom from the door, my DNA should still be on the door stall, I doubt they cleaned it well. You might be able to get CCTV footage too to show that I’ve been kidnapped, or maybe someone took a picture of it-” you say hastily.

“Of what?”

“My name, I wrote it with my blood,” you say rather proudly.

Taehyung grips your hand tighter. “What? Blood?! He’s made you bleed?!”

You nod hastily. “He’s d-done w-worse,” you stutter, this time you hold in your tears.

Taehyung swallows, resting his head against the car’s seat, feeling sick.

You reach both hands out until you find his shoulder and squeeze. “Taehyung, I have the money saved for my eye surgery in my bank account, I-I’ll give it to you if you help me. Please, please.”

He takes your hand in his again. “I’m not taking your money, y/n.”

“You won’t help me?” you cry desperately.

He grips your other hand tight, holding them close to his chest. “I’ll talk to Joon and Jimin, we’ll figure something out. Our last album just hit platinum, we have stocks in the company now. We’ll find a way to help you.”

“We’re leaving for Japan right now. Right now, Taehyung. Please hurry.” You can’t tell whether it’s you trembling now or the scared singer. Taehyung brings your hands to his mouth and kisses your knuckles and you do the same, welcoming his comforting affection.

-

Yoongi watches as you and the singer cling to each other. He rolls his eyes and flicks his cigarette to the ground, stomping out his frustrations into the tarmac pavement.

“Well?” he asks once Taehyung steps out and shuts the car’s door.

“Midnight Blue.” He says the name in accented Thai. “The club you took her to in Thailand, Blue Midnight.” Taehyung gulps.

“Ahh fuck, you’re right. But why-”

“She thinks if I can get CCTV footage, we can use it in a case against you.”

“Huh really? Most of them don’t even work in that area, but I can have my men check.” Yoongi runs his hand through his hair. “Anything else?” Taehyung shakes his head, unable to look the loan shark in the face.

“You two were talking for a long time, what else?” He grabs the singer by the collar to make a point, shoving him against the door. You flinch inside.

“She told me you cut her, made her bleed there in Thailand, is that what you did?!” Taehyung pushes against the loan shark, shoving him away.

Yoongi cocks his head to the side, looking confused. “Eh?” He rubs the back of his neck, trying to remember, “Oh, it was one of my men. I took care of it.”

“Are y-you hurting her?”

“Why do you suddenly care?” Yoongi crosses his arms, “Are you gonna stop me if I am?” he asks, challenging the singer.

“She’s done nothing wrong, It’s not her damn fault, it’s Jimin’s, if you had just killed him instead-”

“You would have liked that, huh?” he tuts, “Wanted to go solo that bad, now you’re stuck with those two idiots and your album is on hold,” he rolls his eyes. “If you’re not making money, you’re gonna be in the same boat as Jimin, and you don’t have anyone to save your ass-”

“Just let her go then!” he hisses, trying to keep his voice down so you don’t hear. “Make Jimin pay you whatever he owes you!”

“So she can go to the police?” Yoongi crosses his arms, snorting.

“Min, I-I don’t understand. What are you going to do, keep her forever?!”

“Maybe,” Yoongi says dismissively. “Why?”

“Are you s-serious?!” he stutters.

“It was the deal-”

“S-She didn’t understand-”

“She’s a grown woman, she made her choice.”

Taehyung looks at the loan shark with disbelieving eyes. “Please, Y-Yoongi-”

Yoongi grabs the singer again, done with arguing, “Want to take on Jimin’s debt on top of what you still owe me instead, yeah? Go get her, take her.” He’s met with silence. “Then shut the fuck up.” He signals for his men, who have been waiting to board. “Send me Joon’s schedule, I’ll deal with him when we get back to Korea.”

“Okay,” Taehyung mutters defeatedly. He places his hand on the car’s window. You don’t notice him of course. He says his goodbyes silently, to himself to ease his mind, like a coward.

-

Yoongi didn’t need to keep a low profile in Tokyo, the city was too big, so many tourists and locals crammed together, he and his associates became just another mean face in the crowd. He bought out a few penthouses in an expensive hotel for the week, with a kitchen and a private hot spring and all the amenities you could ever want.

It was your lavish prison cell.

“What’s wrong with her?” Jon asks, setting plastic bags of Japanese convenience store food on the counter. Jungkook shakes his head, sending him a look that reads, ‘Please just shut the fuck up about it.’

Jon clears his throat, he looks around, turning on a lamp, fiddling with the shade until he’s happy with the amount of light before leaving you and Jungkook in Yoongi’s private penthouse.

Before he leaves, Jon steps in front of you, studying you with the same scrutiny as he did the new area. He lifts your head up, a crooked finger under your chin. Your eyes are bloodshot, your lids swollen from crying. “Hey, don’t give up.”

Easy for him to say, that man acts like he doesn’t have a care in the world. You bite your lip, making sure to keep your head up no matter how heavy you feel. “Give me a reason not to give up,” you grumble softly.

Jon stays silent. He steps away from you and nods towards the younger man.

Jungkook sings in his head to drown out your crying as he unwraps the food for you.

You hear the clanging of a glass plate set in front of you.

You raise your hand, hovering over it. Jungkook puts his hand over yours. This is the most he’s interacted with you since your last altercation.

You can’t take it. You can’t take this anymore. You can’t!

“What are you doing, y/n?!” Jungkook grips your other hand quickly, before you can do any more damage. The plate lays shattered under your fist.

“J-Just let me have this, so I can hurt him.”

He yanks the glass plate shard out of your hand.

“Listen to me,” he whispers. “You’re not going to hurt him. Because you can’t hurt him. You’re lucky Jon wasn’t still here, or anyone else for that matter-”

“I’m not with anyone else. I’m with you.”

After a long silence Jungkook finally lets go of your hand, wiping the mess off the counter and into the trash and pulling more food out for you now that you’ve shattered your plate to pieces. “You're testing my patience. Yoongi is mad at me because of you. If you try anything else, I will hurt you again.”

“Hurt me, then. Kill me. Do it.” You reach out, searching for his arms and clumsily put them to your neck. “Kill me, please! I’m not going to fucking do it anymore!”

Jungkook watches you cry. Despite everything you continue to rebel. No matter how small. You refuse to let Yoongi change you.

It stirs something inside him. A question he’s never spoken aloud.

You notice his sharp intake of breath so close to your temple. Is he smelling you?

“J-Jungkook?”

“I will only kill you if Min asks me to.” Soft, chapped lips brush against yours so quickly you question if you imagined it. “Listen to Jon, you’ve made it this far, don’t give up.”

“No.” You tremble, “You’re going to help me get out one way or another, Jungkook.”

You feel him move away and reach for him again in desperation. His fingers are back around your throat, shoving you into hotel kitchen cabinets and lifting you off your feet in his anger.

You struggle, unable to breathe. You let your hands follow down his arms until you reach his face. And instead of what Jungkook thought you were going to do, what he would have done: tried to retaliate, fight against him, you hold his cheeks in your palms, thumb running soft lines across his face and over the scars you remembered.

Jungkook lets you drop, shuddering. You cough, inhaling air quickly.

Jungkook is a trained killer. His hands don’t shake, yet…

He looks down at you, silently crying on the floor.

He lets out a slow breath.

“Eat.” He mutters.

“I’ll only eat if you stop ignoring me,” you choke out, glaring in his general direction.

It makes him smile. “Okay, okay.”

You end up eating on the floor with the young gangster in silence, who has his body pressed up against your side. He hands you bites you take reluctantly. Jungkook pulls out his cell, opening a video he took, and you listen to soft cheering as the second half of last week's soccer match plays on his device. You quietly cry and nibble on food until you get caught up in the match, gasping along with the crowd over the very last play.

-

“You did well today,” Yoongi says, undoing his tie.

You pull off your heels, frowning. “I’ve been with you for months now, so I want to know exactly how much left I owe-”

“Owe?”

“Yes, the amount. Of Jimin’s debt, I want to know exactly how much I have left! You’ve made hundreds of thousands of won on deals I helped facilitate, haven’t you? That counts for something, doesn’t it?!”

Yoongi wasn’t prepared for your outburst, but he knew it would happen sooner or later. And it didn’t stop him from becoming furious with you. “Any other demands you want to make, want a pension plan?” He goads.

You bite back your retorts and take a deep breath. “I want to know exactly how much longer I have to suffer here with a monster like you.”

“Suffer? You ate Wagyu steak today, the jacket you’re wearing is Givenchy.” His finger pokes into your shoulder so hard you almost lose your balance. “Which, by the way, will be deducted off your earnings, of course-”

“What?!”

“That’s right,” he says lowly.

“I didn’t ask for this!” You yank off your jacket and throw it on the ground at his feet.

He’s in your space again, his body walking into yours with no intention of letting you move away from him. You would have fallen over if he hadn’t grabbed the front of your shirt. “Going to give me back this shirt too?!” Yoongi rips the buttons off as he yanks the front open.

You yell and grab at the pieces and hold them over your chest. “Haven’t you learned anything?” he screams in your face. Yoongi holds your head in his hands. You close your eyes out of instinct as tears well up in the corners, breathing through your mouth so you don’t have to smell his cologne, clenching your jaw to keep yourself silent. “You wanted this. Remember that? When you begged Jimin to let me have you? You’re mine, y/n.”

“I’ll never be yours,” you grit out.

“You’re already mine. And I can do whatever I want with you,” Yoongi rasps out with just as much vitriol.

And then he does what you hate most, he presses his lips against yours. His hand keeps you from pulling your head away, his lips pressed to yours tightly, so you’re forced to inhale him, so you can’t help but gasp in air and open your mouth for him.

You reach for his neck, you try to choke him, fisting his hair and pulling, but it only seems to rile Yoongi up even more as his tongue invades your mouth.

He finally lets you breathe, pulling your hands away from his throat and securing them behind your back, mouth moving to your jaw and down your neck as he holds you tight. “Mine,” he nips your neck.

It snaps something inside you, you caught yourself before you slipped away completely, and you snapped back, fighting against him. “Get off me!”

You squirm your way out of his hold and push him away and to your surprise, he doesn’t push you back. He is no longer in your space.

You wipe your mouth and straighten your clothes, unsuccessfully trying to put your shirt back together.

Yoongi stays quiet. You know he’s there, somewhere, watching you, but he’s so quiet! Where the hell is he?

Yoongi watches as you frown and hesitantly reach your hand out in front of you.

You flinch when Yoongi hand smacks your hand down, and swing your fist out in anger, hitting air.

Yoongi laughs tauntingly to your right.

“I’m not yours,” you finally mutter out. Your head is pulled back as Yoongi yanks you by the hair and then shoves you forward. You cry out in pain, knee hitting the corner of something hard.

Yoongi stays quiet instead of arguing back, he is trying to drive you crazy and it’s working, it’s maddening, you bite back tears as you breathe in sharply.

You stumble, moving around furniture and bumping into a wall. You frantically search for something to grab.

You throw your hand behind you on a hunch that the loan shark was leering behind you, and he catches it easily, pulling you off balance again.

You scream out in anger, “You think because you force yourself on me, I’m yours? I can’t stand you, I hate you! When you touch me, I think of someone, anyone, else! You think because I’m blind, I can’t see how hideous you are? How miserable-” you choke on your words as he grabs you by the neck and his grip tightens on your throat.

He shakes you, moves you around so quickly you stumble backward, terrified he is going to make you collide into something, you have to grip him back to you from falling.

You struggle against his advances until he’s over you, pinning you into couch cushions. “You disgust me.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi doesn’t believe you. You are trying to anger him, you’re trying to hurt him. He’s played this game before, he knows this game. “But if I was Jimin, or Taehyung, or Namjoon, you wouldn’t be disgusted, that right?” He yells in your face. Why does he always have to bring them up?!

He moves his leg in between yours, pressing his knee against you harshly. “You would happily spread your legs, give them whatever they want because they’re famous-”

You push as hard as you can against his shoulders, yelling, “What?! They would never take advantage of me! They saved me,” you grunt. “You have no idea-”

“I have no idea?” he laughs at you. “I grew up with Taehyung in Daegu, did he forget to mention that to you during your little reunion? I know them. I know Jimin is back to getting high again, he tried to clean up his act for a hot second, but like always, he cares more about his own self gratification than anything else. What do you think will happen after he burns through all his money?”

Yoongi runs his thumb across your dry lips. “Do you think he’ll come back groveling to me, or do you think he’ll try to convince someone else to fund his addiction? Do you think if I offered him all the drugs his heart desires he wouldn’t hurt you for it? You’re so sure he won’t, are you?”

You have your eyes closed again and he doesn’t like that. Even if you can’t see him, he likes watching your deep irises. Even if you can’t see, your eyes still redden with tears and your expression darkens for him, blazes for him. “And Kim Namjoon, is he the one you think about? When he could care less about you? He’s no knight in shining armor coming to rescue you, and you’re sure no damn princess/”

Yoongi snakes his hand between your bodies and inside your pants, letting out a deep breath when you struggle and he realizes why. “If this isn’t mine, then why does it get so wet for me? Fuck…you’re so wet…”

You feel the last threads of your sanity breaking, and you want to hurt him the only way you can now, you can’t stop yourself, “No, I don’t think about Namjoon, I think about Jungkook,” he hiss.

You try to claw at his face, which stops his advances momentarily. Yoongi pulls his hand out of your pants and holds your wrists down until you stop struggling, and then he yells, “Jeon!” he bellows.

You hear the door open as someone walks in.

“S-Sir?”

“Come here and hold Miss y/l/n’s hands down.”

It’s deathly quiet until you hear movement again as Jungkook crosses the room. Yoongi’s grip lessens for only a moment until it’s replaced, your hands pressed above your head. You start to cry.

The pressure of Yoongi’s knee is gone as he moves down your body.

Your belt is unbuckled.

Your zipper is pulled down.

His hands reach around your hips and you kick out, attempting to hurt him when he pulls your pants and panties off your legs.

“Stop, stop this!” You’re begging Jungkook, but his grip on you doesn’t lessen. Jungkook’s fingers might as well have been shackles as you try to pull free.

“Who are you thinking about now, y/n?” Yoongi slips his fingers easily into your heat.

You clench your teeth so hard your molars feel like they might crack under the pressure. “You’re pathetic, you know that?!” You let yourself be overcome with anger, a much more agreeable feeling than the hopelessness you felt. “You must be really hideous if you can’t find anyone else to fuck! Is that why you went into this business, huh? Couldn’t get any decent woman so you surround yourself with strippers and prostitutes, and they won’t even fuck you?!” You scream out in frustration as his steady pace quickens inside you unrelentingly.

Yoongi chuckles at your outburst, his body weight pressing on your legs. “Ahh now we both know that’s not true.” He says cockily. You chose to ignore the way the girls at Yoongi’s establishments would address him, the flirtatious tone in their voices when the courageous one would ask him if he needed anything, offering their “services” up to him.

“Then why me?!”

“Because I want you.”

Yoongi drags his two fingers out of you, and presses three fingers inside when he enters you again, his thumb rubbing across your clit.

Your heart beats so fiercely in your chest you think you might suffer a heart attack, you hope you do when you feel the heat inside you rise, unable to stop your whimpers no matter how hard you clench your jaw.

Yoongi knows your body now, he knows the pressure that makes you shake, the movement you can’t resist. He rocks his hand into you steadily and precisely as you try not to tremble, as you try to think of anything other than what he was doing to you so you aren’t overcome.

But it only takes a few more minutes before you are overcome, unable to stop your body arching and muscles locking, and your breath stuttering and a moan escaping.

The hands around your wrists disappear and in the next few moments you hear the door slam shut.

“Jun-” Yoongi’s hand presses over your mouth.

Yoongi doesn’t want to hear whatever you have to say, something that would surely make his blood pressure sky rocket. Yoongi looks at the closed door. He has a choice to make. Should he go after Jungkook? No, he will let the young gangster cool down.

That’s not the only choice he has to make. He looks down at you. You look exactly how he feels, a fierce mixture of fury and puzzlement and anguish twisting at your brows and behind your unfocused glare.

He removes his hand from your mouth, gripping at your neck instead to hold you still.

Rather than letting your emotions take over you again you try to think this through. He is still over you, body in between your legs, fully clothed despite your almost nakedness. You had a choice to make.

“You upset him.” You’re met with silence. “Do you think you can treat people like this forever and they will just take it?” His hand tightens around your throat as he pushes your head back. You yell in pain, but keep trying. “Go ahead, you’ll end up all alone just like you deserve,” you gasp.

“Like you?”

His words feel like a cold shower. When you freeze, Yoongi takes the opportunity to switch the subject of conversation. He brushes his lips across your jaw, finally calming down, “Want to know what you owe me now? Nothing. And nothing you could do or say would ever make me let you go,” he says gently, licking across your neck.

He moves his other hand back down your body, achingly slow, pushing the broken pieces of your shirt away from your chest and tugging at the uncovered flesh. Why does he have to do this to you? Why? You hate how his touches twists your emotions and you hate how he knows it too. “Like I said, y/n, you’re mine now,” he says huskily. His mouth captures your nipple as he sucks and licks across your chest.

You feel rooted against him, unable to move as you process his words. You can’t fully however, his touches making it impossible to concentrate on anything but his harsh sucking and fondling.

“Wait-”

“No.”

You let your muscles relax and stop fighting against him, why should you? It never works, it never ever works.

-

You rest your palm on the window, the glass is hotter than the surrounding air, and you move closer until your nose touches the glass, soaking in the warmth of the sun outside.

Yoongi’s voice is behind you, still in bed. “Come here, you’re giving everyone a free show.” You must have woken him up when you left the bed.

You rest your forehead on the glass. “I want to go outside today, take me to a cafe.” You don’t ask him, you tell him.

Yoongi studies your naked figure framed by the just risen sun.

He clears his throat, “I’ll have Jeon take you later-”

“I don’t want to go with him, I want to go with you.”

Yoongi pauses. “Why? He was just following orders.”

Facing the sun, the brightness allows you to see the most light possible. You don’t know if it's your imagination at this point, but you like to believe it really is orange and yellow you’re seeing in the otherwise blurry darkness.

“I want to go with you,” you say.

“I’ll see…I’ll find some time.” Perhaps it’s the tiredness still in his voice, but his tone seems to soften.

“Okay.”

“Come here.”

You close your eyes, let the darkness settle in, focus on the heat at your fingertips.

You spent the night dissecting what Yoongi had said to you and everything that’s happened to you since finding yourself in the loan shark's service. You had been too distracted, too focused on your own desires of freedom to notice Yoongi’s desires.

You didn’t want to believe it either, that he might have become more than just fond of you. It didn’t make sense, but now that you were really picking apart his actions, it was there, twisted and dark, his own particular kind of affection...for you.

You should have realized this sooner, but you didn’t even want to accept your own twisted emotions. If you had, you would have also figured that it would make sense he was going down the same dark path.

You asked yourself all night, now what should you do?

You have decided now, turning to him and letting your body relax.

You were going to use it against him.

---

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter: Reunion (Update Goal: 500 notes)

Tell me what you liked, and what you hated (is it Yoongi? lol)