Vminkook — mafias

After a few more barbed words traded across the desk — small talk that barely hid the danger underneath — Jimin didn’t linger. Jimin didn’t contemplate much on Jungkook’s earlier warning about his mate coming for him, brushing it off as bluff or an empty threat. After all, no one could breach your mansion. It was late and Jimin had no strength left for theatrics; Jimin ordered his men to take Jungkook down to the basement and leave him there until tomorrow. They obeyed without hesitation.

Jimin let his men finish securing the mansion, then walked to his chamber. He changed into pajamas, slid beneath the sheets with the gun under the pillow, as he always did, and slowly fell asleep.

The mansion fell into silence, guards stationed at the gates, the doors, and along the corridors inside. But, not long after, the phone on his nightstand buzzed. One of his bodyguards. His voice was low, urgent: “Boss- breach, they are-” A heavy thud echoed through the line, followed by faint footsteps. Then nothing. Jimin didn’t waste a second. Grabbing his pistol, he slid out into the corridor, suspicion tightening in his chest with every step — of course they were here for Jungkook. He had to reach Jungkook before they did.

But the halls were too quiet. No gunfire, no shouts, no alarms. Only the faint smell of iron carried on the air. Because while his men had split off through the mansion, cutting down every guard in silence, the one hunting Jungkook hadn’t needed anyone with him. He had followed the scent, sharp and unmistakable, that led him through the corridors like a trail of blood.

Jimin turned a corner — and froze. A man stood at the other end of the hall, striding forward with steady, deliberate steps. His gun hung loose at his side, but his eyes were locked on Jimin with an intensity that rooted Jimin in place. A predator who knew exactly where his prey was. Both of them lifted their weapons in the same breath, barrels aimed.

The corridor was deathly still, Jimin's gun fixed on him, his steps deliberate as he closed the distance. There was no warmth in his face, no hint of mercy — only murder simmering behind those black eyes. “So, you’re the one who dared to lay hands on my mate." Your voice cut through the silence, low and edged like a blade.

Jimin's heart skipped. The words sank in slowly, like ice sliding down his spine. Mate… Jungkook’s mate. Shock and wariness flared at once. The man standing before Jimin had broken into his mansion with terrifying ease, bypassing every guard, every alarm. Jimin had underestimated you — and the realization stung.

The stakes had shifted, and Jimin had to be sharper, faster, smarter. He straightened his posture, hiding the flicker of awe and unease. His grip tightened on the trigger. “One step closer and I will-"

Before Jimin could finish, you tilted your head slightly, eyes narrowing. "…An omega?” Your voice rolled over Jimin, low, smooth, almost like a purr — but with a razor’s edge, dangerous and commanding. Your nose had caught it. Jimin's faint scent, carefully masked with suppressants, should have been enough to hide it… for anyone else. But not for you.

Shock hit Jimin like a punch to the chest. You knew? He had relied on every suppressant, every precaution. And yet, here you were affirming it out loud, stripping away the secret Jimin had kept even from his own men.

The air shifted around Jimin, heavy and suffocating. Heat flared through his body like a fever, his head growing fuzzy, thoughts scattering. His hands shook around the gun. Jimin staggered, struggling to stay upright, but it was no use.

His knees gave out first. Then his body collapsed to the floor, chest heaving, breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The last thing his eyes registered, blurry but terrifyingly sharp in its inevitability, were your feet approaching, deliberate and unrelenting, before darkness swallowed Jimin completely.

[ Time skip ]

Jimin stirred slowly, dragged up from the weight of unconsciousness into something heavier still. His body burned, every nerve lit as though fever had sunk deep into his bones. Clothes clung to his skin, too warm, too tight, and the ache beneath them was unbearable. The air itself was thick — choking with a scent he recognized instantly. Alpha. Overpowering, inescapable.

His head swam, vision hazy. Each breath made his chest tighten, made heat coil lower. Then — sounds. Soft, raw, unrestrained. Moans, low and broken, and the wet cadence of something Jimin didn’t want to recognize. He didn’t know where he was, or how much time had passed since he blacked out.

With effort, Jimin turned his head. And froze. Just beside him, tangled in sheets, was Jungkook — completely naked, his skin slick with sweat and flushed red. He laid on his back, legs spread wide, body trembling beneath the relentless pace. His lips parted in desperate sounds as you, just as bare, pounded into him, your knees pressed hard into the mattress as you drove forward with unyielding force. Fingers gripped Jungkook’s hips like a vice, holding him down, using him with a brutal rhythm. Dark hair fell like a curtain around your face, muscles flexing with dangerous precision as you moved — claiming Jungkook without pause, without mercy.

Jimin's blood ran cold even as his skin burned hotter. The realization struck hard and merciless: you didn’t killed him. Instead, you had taken him. Jimin had been kidnapped. By you.

Your head lifted, dark hair sticking to your temples as your gaze slid to Jimin. A slow, amused smile curved your mouth even as your hips continued their punishing rhythm. “Oh, look, Kookie…” Your voice was low, mocking, dripping with satisfaction. "Our guest is awake.” Jungkook could only whimper beneath him, head tossing against the pillow, too far gone to do more than gasp and cling weakly.

“You know, Jimin...” You drawled, eyes glinting as they stayed locked on Jimin. “I read your file. It said you were a beta.” Your smirk deepened, a sharp flash of teeth as you drove another hard thrust into Jungkook, earning a broken cry. “Didn’t expect you to be an omega. Not that I’m complaining.”

A few more brutal thrusts, and Jungkook’s back arched off the sheets, shuddering as release tore through him. You followed with a low groan, spilling inside before finally stilling. For a moment, only ragged breaths filled the room. Then you pulled out, settling back on the edge of the bed, sweat cooling against your skin. Your smirk returned, slow and deliberate.

“We could’ve left you there." You said, your voice steady, almost casual. “But your heat was too close. We did you a favor, really — kidnapping you instead. Couldn’t just waste something as… delicious as you. Even if you do deserved to die.”

You sat between Jimin and Jungkook, your presence impossibly commanding even in repose. You leaned down slightly, resting your head on one hand, elbow pressing into the sheets. Your body lay casually on its side, legs stretched across the bed, posture relaxed but impossibly predatory.

“My name is Taehyung." You said, voice low and deliberate, letting it roll over Jimin. “It’s better if you know, since you’ll be using it very soon… I think you know what this means.” A dark smirk tugged at your lips as he looked down at Jimin.