Mafia's sweetheart crossed the line so he punished her harder
NOTE: This part is a continuity of the fanfiction uploaded on YOUTUBE/ @bangtandarktales
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#WARNING!
(This fanfic segment contains mature themes, expl?cit content, offensive sl@ngs, strong language. Reader discretion is advised. If you are uncomfortable with such content, please refrain from proceeding further. Before reading this part, it is recommended to read the fanfiction for context.)
Continuation:
“Jimin… please,” I whispered, my voice shaking so badly it barely came out. It was the first time i ever called his name. His face was cold, unreadable, but the darkness in his eyes made my stomach churn.
“I’m sorry,” I cried, clasping my hands together. “I didn’t mean to—please don’t…”
Bang!
The sound of the gunshot ripped through the room, and I screamed. My hands flew to cover my ears as my body flinched violently. But I was still breathing. I opened my eyes, tears blurring my vision. The bullet had hit the painting behind me. My heart pounded, and my whole body shook as I stared at him.
“Please…i was—,” I begged, my voice breaking with every word.
He didn’t answer. He tossed the gun across the room, and it clattered into the fireplace. Flames swallowed it instantly, sparks flying as it disappeared into the fire. I couldn’t move. My body was too frozen in fear as he climbed onto the bed, his eyes locked on me like a predator to its prey.
Then his hands grabbed my shoulders, rough and unrelenting, shaking me hard.
“How dare you?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
I sobbed, my tears spilling freely, but he didn’t stop.
“You know what kind of man I am,” he hissed. “You’ve seen it. Then why? Why did you do that? Aren’t you scared of me?”
His face was so close, his breath brushing against my skin.
“Aren’t you terrified? Afraid of dying?”
I shook my head, trembling but firm. “No,” I whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.
He froze, his grip tightening. “No?”
I shook my head again, my heart pounding. My lips trembled as I whispered, “Because… I love you.”
His eyes widened, just for a second, but he quickly masked it with that cold, unreadable expression.
“I’m not scared,” I sobbed, my voice breaking as I poured out everything I had been holding inside. “Because I love you. And I’m ready for whatever punishment you want to give me. Anything, Jimin. I’ll take it. Because I love you.”
I cried harder, my chest heaving, unable to stop the flood of emotions. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. His grip on my shoulders softened, but the silence between us was deafening. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. But I did. And now, I didn’t know if I’d survive it.
His hands gripped my shoulders, and before I could react, he shook me—hard. I felt like the room itself was spinning, my tears blurring everything around me.
“How dare you?” he spat, his voice trembling, not just with anger but something deeper. Something I couldn’t place. “Do you know what you’ve done?”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, the words tumbling out of my mouth. “I’m so sorry—”
“You don’t get it, do you?” he cut me off, his voice louder, harsher. But behind the edge of fury, there was something breaking. “You think you can love me?” He scoffed bitterly, his grip tightening. “You think I can love you?”
I flinched, but the way his voice cracked sent a fresh wave of tears down my cheeks. He let go of me suddenly, as if my touch burned him. He stepped back, running his hand through his hair, pacing like a caged animal.
“I can’t love anyone,” he muttered, almost to himself. His hands clenched into fists, and he turned to me, his eyes red, not from rage—but pain. “Do you know what love does? It ruins you. It makes you weak. It destroys you.”
I didn’t dare say a word. I just stood there, my chest aching as I watched him unravel.
“My father loved my mother more than anything,” he continued, his voice hollow, his eyes distant. “She was his world. But when she was gone… he wasn’t the same man. He was broken, shattered—weak. And I swore I’d never become him.”
His words felt like a knife slicing through the silence, and each one bled with vulnerability he’d hidden for so long. He turned away from me, his shoulders tense, his hands trembling at his sides.
“I’ve spent my whole life pretending,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Pretending I’m heartless. That nothing can touch me. That no one can hurt me.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Because if I don’t feel anything, no one can take it away from me.”
I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Jimin…” I stepped closer, my voice trembling. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
His head snapped toward me, his eyes narrowing, but there was no venom in his gaze—just fear. Real, raw fear. “Don’t you get it?” he whispered harshly. “If I let myself feel this… it will ruin me.”
I didn’t think. I couldn’t. I reached out, cupping his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. His skin was warm, but the way he froze under my touch made my heart ache.
“It won’t ruin you,” I said, my voice shaking but firm. “It will heal you.”
Tears brimmed in his eyes, and before he could look away, I leaned in and kissed them. Softly. Gently. I kissed the tears that fell, tasting the salt of his pain. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stood there, as if he didn’t know what to do. But then, his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. He held me so tightly it hurt, but I didn’t care.
He buried his face in my neck, and I felt his shoulders shake. For the first time, the man who terrified the world, who claimed to be untouchable, was vulnerable. And I held him, letting him break in my arms.
“You don’t have to be heartless, Jimin,” I whispered. “Not with me.”
And for the first time, he didn’t push me away. He let me in.
His arms were still around me, holding me like I was the only thing keeping him together. His breathing was uneven, his face buried in my neck as he clung to me. I could feel his tears dampening my skin, and the sound of his shaky breaths tore me apart.
“Y/N,” he murmured against me, his voice raw, breaking on my name. “I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never—” His words faltered, and he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. His gaze was conflicted, flickering with emotions I’d never seen in him before—fear, regret, longing.
“I hate this,” he confessed, his voice trembling. “I hate how you make me feel. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you, that I want you in ways I shouldn’t.” He shook his head, his hands gripping my waist. “But I hate myself more for pushing you away...i thought i could just keep you near but won't let you be near my heart but—”
My breath caught, and I reached up to touch his face. He flinched at first, like he wasn’t used to anyone being gentle with him, but he didn’t stop me. My thumb brushed away the tear that had escaped his eye.
“You don’t have to hate yourself, Jimin,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’re allowed to feel. You’re allowed to love.”
He let out a broken laugh, his forehead pressing against mine. “Love makes you weak,” he muttered, his voice strained. “But you… you make me feel alive, Y/N. And it terrifies me.”
I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned in, closing the gap between us, my lips brushing against his in the softest kiss. For a moment, he didn’t move, his body stiff as if he couldn’t process what was happening. But then, he kissed me back, his hands sliding up to cradle my face.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was raw, desperate, like he was pouring every unspoken word, every buried feeling into me. His lips moved against mine with a hunger that left me breathless, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled me closer.
The kiss deepened, and I felt his vulnerability in every touch, every shaky breath he exhaled against my skin. This wasn’t just desire—it was something more, something neither of us knew how to name.
He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against mine as he whispered, “You’re going to destroy me.”
“Then let me,” I replied, my voice trembling but resolute. “Because I’ll never hurt you, Jimin. I’ll never leave you.”
He stared at me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, and in that moment, I knew. I saw the walls he’d built around himself crumble, piece by piece, as he leaned in again, capturing my lips in another kiss.
This time, it was slower, more deliberate. His hands moved down, tracing my sides with a tenderness that left me trembling. I felt his vulnerability in the way he touched me, like he was afraid I’d disappear if he wasn’t careful.
“Y/N,” he murmured against my lips, his voice hoarse. “You’re the only thing that’s ever felt real.”
I cupped his face, my thumbs brushing over the dampness on his cheeks. “And you’re the only one I’ve ever loved,” I whispered back, my voice thick with emotion.
For the first time, there was no anger, no fear. Just us—raw, vulnerable, and unguarded.
My hands tore across his broad back, the muscles of his shoulders, into his hair, down to his tight ass. His kisses overwhelmed me. He overwhelmed me with his relentless presence, the solidity of him, his scent, the taste of his tongue dueling with mine, the feel of his strong body mashed against me. In his grip, I was small and fragile yet utterly desired and powerful. I'd never seen a man want me this badly. Ever.
He pushed me down on the bed. My legs instantly wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck, still kissing, biting, s**king until I tasted the tang of bl**d-his or mine, I didn't know. I was lost. Blindly we tore at each clothing. His large hands went to the front of my br**, found the cl@$p and opened it.
"Take your f**** pan**** off" ,he said and looked at me. He froze for a moment, then brought his mouth to mine in a crushing kiss.
In the dark, in the silence, we were alone in the world. He buried himself d##p in$!de me. Both writhing, grasping, and panting. Desperate to expose more skin. to touch more, to kiss harder, to take what we wanted. And we kissed until kissing wasn't enough.
Thanks for reading
The end!
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