BLOOD MONEY || bts mafia au

seventeen.

Teeth slid across bare skin, not caring whether they left marks. The familiar gauzy heat, his heartbeat racing in time with their rushed kisses. These moments were the ones Jimin lived for. When he got lost in the push and pull of it all, when every little thing nagging at the back of his mind just evaporated.

Jimin bit down on the edge of his smirk as he felt that night's hookup slip his hand down to grasp Jimin's hip bone firmly, holding him steady.

It had been two days since they'd fled the burning building. Two days since Jungkook's presumed death and Jimin's automatic installation as the Purgatory's new boss. Two days since Yoongi had betrayed them and took the money all for himself.

They were all looking to him to fix it.

Hoseok could barely look anyone in the eye anymore. And Taehyung...

No one could coax the blind boy from his room.

How had Jungkook done it? Managing all of their soldiers, meeting with all of the clients, figuring out how to distribute their income back into keeping up the den, and looking so calm while he did it? Jimin wished he knew. Maybe then he could give them an actual answer when they came to him expecting orders.

"Relax," his mysterious lover murmured, pressing a sticky kiss to his collarbone.

Jimin did his best to obey. But these thoughts had been plaguing his brain endlessly, stealing his sleep and appetite, forcing him to seclude himself as much as possible just to have five minutes where he didn't feel like he wanted to start screaming and never stop.

He arched his back up off the mattress, erasing the space between them the way he longed to banish his worries, sending them scattering with kisses from a stranger. Jimin trapped the other man's bottom lip between his teeth, dragging his tongue along the small cut he created, sucking the metallic-coated blood from his lover's mouth into his own. He let his head fall back against the twisted sheets, a low moan slipping from his throat as that night's partner found his spot, a burst of pleasure spreading throughout his body.

It had been so long since Jimin had allowed himself to fall back into his habits. But the slip and slide of skin on skin held a firm grip on him, unwilling to release its sway over him even after all this time.

Because he'd had a life before he'd joined the Purgatory.

And it hadn't been an innocent one.

But with Jungkook gone and tension running high, Jimin couldn't help but cave and retreat back to the world he'd been trained for. If Jungkook hadn't found him and freed him from his service, this would have been his life. He would have spent every night pressed between a new pair of sheets, a stranger's hands devouring his body as if he was their property, ignoring his cries of pain and protest as they gripped him tighter.

Instead he was the boss of one of the most feared gangs on the street. He held the power now.

He was the one that decided whether he wanted someone else's touch.

He was one that chose who he wanted to allow into his bedroom.

And if they didn't respect him or his choices... Well, that was what the weapon he always kept within an arm's reach was for. He never went anywhere unarmed. You never knew what kinds of evils were lurking in the shadows.

But Jimin did know one thing for sure.

If he was ever going to be touched by another person, it was going to be under his terms.

He belonged to no one.

An uneven knock sounded on his door, jolting him back to the present and forcing him to think past the man holding him close.