#bts assassin

[keehomania]

troublemaker (트러블) — kim namjoon (김남준)

✧.* 18+

you were trouble, everyone knew it. from the moment you entered a room, you carried an aura that demanded attention, the kind of allure that held people captive in the snare of your presence. in a world where appearances could be weapons, you were the embodiment of femme fatale—an archetype as lethal as it was beguiling. your beauty wasn’t merely skin-deep; it was a complex tapestry woven from threads of danger, allure, and an almost tangible sense of enigma.

your eyes, framed by a cascade of midnight-black lashes, were twin pools of mystery that could ensnare anyone who dared to meet your gaze. they shimmered with an intensity that hinted at secrets too dark to unveil, secrets that whispered of peril and allure in the same breath. when you walked, each step was a masterstroke of elegance and seduction, the hem of your dress swaying like the tendrils of a siren's call. the colors you wore were never just colors; they were statements, woven into the fabric of your being like the brushstrokes of a master painter’s most provocative work.

your voice, when it cut through the ambient hum of a room, was velvet and smoke—rich and inviting, yet laden with the promise of consequences that could spiral into chaos. it could lure and disarm, coaxing even the most guarded heart into the realm of vulnerability. conversations with you were like navigating a labyrinth; each word, each pause, was meticulously crafted to captivate, ensnare, and ultimately control.

in your presence, the air seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light, an ethereal glow that made reality seem like a mere shadow of the world you conjured. you moved with a grace that was almost otherworldly, a dance that was both hypnotic and dangerous. the way you tilted your head, the slight curve of your smile—it all contributed to a spellbinding performance that kept everyone on edge. if looks could kill, you would have been executed long ago. your mere gaze was a weapon honed to perfection, capable of dismantling the strongest of defenses with a single glance. the enchantment you wielded was not merely a play of physical beauty but a deadly precision of emotional manipulation and psychological prowess. to encounter you was to walk a tightrope over an abyss, where every step was fraught with the potential for either profound enchantment or complete destruction.

you were a canvas of contradictions, a symphony of beauty and menace. each interaction with you was an intricate dance on the edge of a razor, where the thrill of the unknown mingled with the inevitable sting of consequences. In the grand theater of life, you were the lead role in a drama so intense and captivating that it demanded the audience's complete surrender. the enigma you embodied was a work of art in itself, crafted with the precision of a masterful painter and the allure of an ancient legend. you were the perfect embodiment of femme fatale—an archetype so potent that even the hint of your presence could render the most formidable of souls powerless.

you were a vision of lethal elegance, the very embodiment of danger wrapped in glamour. in the dimly lit bar, your presence was nothing short of an intoxicating spell, casting a spell that had everyone under its sway. the room pulsed with life, the throbbing beat of music mingling with the electric current of your allure. all eyes were drawn to you, some with a flicker of lust, others with a trace of envy. you anticipated this reaction with an almost preternatural certainty, knowing exactly how to wield your beauty as a weapon of desire and control.

perched on a plush velvet bar stool, you sipped your martini with an air of nonchalance, the delicate glass catching the ambient light and casting glimmers that mirrored the sparkle in your eyes. the glistening liquid within the glass seemed to reflect the dangerous playfulness that danced beneath your composed facade. every sip was a deliberate act, each moment stretched out to heighten the tension that thrummed through the bar like an electric charge.

as you savored your drink, a man, drawn in by the magnetic pull of your presence, approached you with a confident stride. his gaze was fixated on you with a mixture of desire and admiration. he leaned closer, his voice a low murmur as he offered to buy you another drink. you responded with a smile that could melt steel and a purr that was as soft as it was deadly. “i’m not thirsty anymore,” you whispered, your breath warm against his ear. “in fact, i’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

your words were accompanied by a slow, deliberate exploration of his body—your knee pressed suggestively against the bulge in his pants, your fingertips tracing lazy, teasing patterns along his arm. he was ensnared, mesmerized by the intoxicating blend of your touch and your voice. with each subtle caress, you could feel his resolve dissolving, his body responding with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. you guided him with practiced ease toward the staircase leading up to the hotel above the club. each step you took was measured, each glance you cast over your shoulder a calculated part of the seduction. when you reached the room you had rented hours before, the anticipation hung in the air like a charged current.

inside the room, the atmosphere shifted from the vibrant chaos of the bar to an intimate and charged tension. you pushed him onto the bed with a combination of grace and dominance, your lips finding his in a heated kiss that spoke of all the promises and perils to come. as the passion intensified, you suddenly pulled away, a playful smirk curling at the corners of your lips. “wait here,” you instructed, your voice a velvet command as you slipped away to the bathroom. the soft click of the door closing behind you was the only sound before you emerged, your form now adorned only in a lacy bra and panties. in your hands, you held a bundle of rope, its coiled lengths a stark contrast to your alluring appearance. you presented it to him with a languid, almost theatrical flourish, the rope glistening in the soft light as you displayed it with a provocative grace.

his eyes were locked on the rope, his eagerness palpable as he reached out, his breath quickening with anticipation. but before he could fully grasp his desires, you were swift and unerring. the rope was suddenly around his throat, its fibers cold and unyielding against his skin. his eyes widened in shock, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as he struggled to breathe. the thrill of the moment was palpable in the room, the transformation from seduction to danger swift and complete.

your expression remained impassive, almost detached, as you tightened the rope with measured precision. you watched with an indifferent gaze as the life began to ebb from his eyes, the struggle growing weaker with each tightening of the rope. the room was silent save for the faint, strangled sounds of his attempts to breathe, and your own calm, steady breaths as you held him in your grip.

once the light of life had dimmed from his eyes, you released the rope with a smooth, practiced motion, the finality of your actions as clean and efficient as the execution of a well-rehearsed performance. without a moment's hesitation, you retrieved your phone from the nightstand, dialing the number you knew by heart. your voice was cool and composed as you delivered the message, “the job’s finished.” the transaction was complete, your demeanor as flawless and unperturbed as ever. the power of your presence, combined with the lethal precision of your actions, left no room for doubt. your looks could, indeed, kill.

in the dimly lit ambiance of a high-end club, where shadows danced along the walls and whispers wove through the air like silk, kim namjoon emerged as a figure of compelling elegance and magnetic allure. his presence was a striking contrast to the dim setting, an embodiment of polished sophistication and commanding charm. from the moment he entered the room, it was as if the very air around him shifted, aligning with his undeniable magnetism.

his appearance was nothing short of captivating. his sharp, chiseled features were sculpted with an artist’s precision—his high cheekbones, a strong, defined jawline, and the perfectly straight bridge of his nose created a visage that could have been plucked from the pages of a fashion magazine. his eyes, dark and intense, held a glimmer of mischief beneath their calm facade. they were the kind of eyes that seemed to see through every pretense, a deep, penetrating gaze that drew people in and held them captive, like a spell they were powerless to break.

his hair was styled with an effortless grace, each strand falling into place as if it had been carefully tousled by an unseen hand. it framed his face with an artful disarray that only enhanced his allure, giving him a look that was both casually disheveled and meticulously groomed. every movement he made was fluid, a smooth, deliberate motion that spoke of both confidence and control. his attire—a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame—was a testament to his keen sense of style. the fabric draped over him with an elegance that was both understated and luxurious, the dark hue of his suit contrasting sharply with the warm glow of the club’s lighting.

as he navigated through the room, every step seemed to radiate a quiet power, his aura compelling and commanding. there was an inherent grace to his movements, a calculated ease that made him seem as though he were gliding rather than walking. women turned their heads as he passed, their gazes lingering with a mixture of admiration and desire, their reactions a testament to the impact of his presence.

he knew precisely how to wield his beauty and charm, turning it into a weapon of seduction and influence. his smile was a carefully honed tool, flashing with just the right amount of warmth and allure to disarm even the most guarded soul. it was a smile that suggested both confidence and an intimate understanding of human nature, a combination that made him irresistibly intriguing. in conversation, his voice was a smooth, velvety timbre that could both soothe and stir, a voice that could command attention or whisper promises of indulgence. each word he spoke was measured and deliberate, imbued with a charisma that made every interaction feel like a dance. he could make the simplest of exchanges seem like a tantalizing game, where every glance and every phrase was part of a larger, more complex play.

kim namjoon was more than just a man of striking appearance; he was an embodiment of an almost otherworldly charm that made him a force to be reckoned with. his beauty was not merely skin-deep but a carefully curated blend of aesthetics and allure, sharpened by a sly intelligence and a commanding presence. his very being radiated a magnetic energy that drew others to him, an aura of irresistible power and charm that made him both a captivating enigma and an undeniable force.

as he moved through the crowded club, his presence was like a magnetic force drawing the eyes of every observer, yet his attention was singularly focused on one woman. she was a vision of allure, her eyes locked onto him with an unspoken recognition of his power and charm. he approached her with a fluid grace, his every movement deliberate and poised.

he came from behind her, his touch an intimate caress that seemed to awaken a shiver down her spine. she arched into his touch, as if her body had anticipated his arrival, responding to his presence with a blend of eagerness and trust. his fingers traced a path along her delicate skin, sending waves of warmth and anticipation through her. leaning in, he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. “do you wanna get out of here?” the words were laced with a promise of excitement and danger, an invitation wrapped in seductive undertones. she nodded almost imperceptibly, her lips curving into a smile of eager compliance as she allowed him to guide her through the throng of revelers.

as they navigated their way out of the club, namjoon’s hands continued their languid exploration along her back and sides, each touch a reminder of the allure he wielded with such ease. they moved together in a rhythm of anticipation, their path illuminated by the flashing lights of the city as they ventured into the shadowed recesses of an alleyway. in the quiet, obscured alley, the vibrant chaos of the club seemed like a distant memory. his whispers became more insistent, his words slipping into a darker, more provocative territory. the woman's excitement was palpable, her breath hitching as his voice wove a tantalizing promise of what was to come.

as they reached a more secluded spot, his hand brushed against his pocket, his keys falling from his grasp and clattering onto the ground. he paused to retrieve them, his movements precise and deliberate. it was in this moment of vulnerability that the woman's anticipation turned to confusion, her eyes widening as the reality of her situation began to dawn on her.

in a swift, practiced motion, his demeanor shifted from seductive to menacing. as he straightened, his hands were no longer gentle but cruelly firm. his fingers closed around her throat with an unyielding grip, his strength a chilling contrast to the tenderness he had earlier exhibited. her eyes, once filled with lust, were now wide with a horror that seemed to freeze time itself. he applied pressure with a cold efficiency, the life gradually ebbing from her eyes as she struggled against the relentless force of his grip. he watched impassively as the light in her eyes dimmed, her struggles growing weaker until her body went limp. the transition from desire to demise was abrupt, the room falling into a stifling silence as she dropped dead at his feet.

with her lifeless body at his feet, namjoon remained calm, his expression a mask of unperturbed satisfaction. he removed his phone from his pocket with the same grace he had shown throughout the evening, his fingers moving with practiced precision. dialing a number, he spoke into the phone with a voice that was as cool and collected as ever. “the job’s finished,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion, a stark contrast to the passionate persona he had so masterfully projected moments before. the efficiency of his actions, the seamless transition from charm to ruthlessness, underscored the true extent of his dangerous allure. kim namjoon was a master of manipulation, his beauty and charm just facets of a more profound and deadly artistry.

the morning sun cast a golden haze across the room, its rays filtering through the gauzy curtains and illuminating the opulent space in a soft, ethereal glow. you sat gracefully at the edge of a lavish, velvet-clad armchair, a picture of effortless sophistication. in your hand, you held a glass of deep, ruby-red wine, the liquid swirling gently as you lifted it to your lips. the wine’s rich aroma filled the air, mingling with the faint hint of your perfume—a heady blend of jasmine and sandalwood.

there was a certain serenity in the ritual of your morning indulgence, despite the gnawing presence of alcohol's creeping dependence. the wine had become both a sanctuary and a torment, a paradoxical solace that masked the terror of its increasing hold over you. each sip was a delicate escape from the relentless pressure of your world, a brief respite before the day's demands unfolded.

as you savored the wine, your phone buzzed on the polished marble table beside you. the sharp, insistent sound shattered the tranquil cocoon you had wrapped yourself in. with a graceful motion, you reached for the device, your fingers curling around it with a practiced ease. the screen lit up with the name of your boss, and a flicker of tension passed through you.

you answered the call, your voice steady and composed despite the slight edge of apprehension that had begun to surface. “yes?” you intoned, your tone smooth but alert. the voice on the other end was cold, the authority it wielded palpable even through the phone. “listen closely,” she commanded, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken threats. “we have a high-priority target for you today. this isn’t just any assignment. you’re to eliminate kim namjoon.”

the name hit you with an unexpected force, a jolt that made you sit up straighter. you had heard whispers about him, tales spun in dark corners and hushed conversations, but it all seemed like distant lore—stories of a man who was, in your mind, nothing more than an intriguing footnote. now, the reality of the task set before you was both startling and intensely personal. “kim namjoon?” you repeated, your voice a blend of disbelief and challenge. the name rolled off your tongue, testing the weight of its significance. “i’ve heard of him. he’s part of a rival team, correct?”

“correct,” she affirmed, her tone leaving no room for doubt. “he's a significant player, a dangerous one. this job requires precision. you must understand the risks. he’s not to be underestimated. we need this done cleanly and without trace. his elimination will shift the balance in our favor.” the intensity of her words sharpened the focus of the task ahead. the air around you seemed to thicken with the gravity of the assignment, the warmth of the wine now mingling with a cool edge of determination. the threat posed by namjoon wasn’t just about personal rivalry; it was a crucial move in a broader, more intricate game.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the responsibility settle upon your shoulders. your resolve hardened, the initial disbelief melting into a fierce, unwavering determination. “i understand,” you said, your voice resolute. “i assure you, the job will be finished in no time.” with that, the call ended, leaving you with the echo of her command and the impending challenge that loomed large in your mind. you set the wine glass down, its contents reflecting the slivers of sunlight that now seemed to pierce through your calm exterior. the stakes had been set, the target identified, and the path forward was clear.

kim namjoon would be your next conquest, a puzzle to be solved with the precision and finesse that defined your craft. the thrill of the hunt coursed through you, blending with the calm confidence you had cultivated over countless assignments. the morning’s tranquility had dissipated, replaced by a focused intensity that sharpened your every sense. the game was on, and you were ready to meet it head-on.

the morning sun peeked through the narrow gap in the curtains, casting a hazy light that filtered through the cluttered room. namjoon sat at the small kitchen table, cradling a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. the rich aroma of the brew was a stark contrast to the disarray that surrounded him. his gaze was fixed on the scene before him—his disheveled roommate sprawled across the couch, the telltale signs of a wild night evident in the scattered cans of alcohol and the faint scent of stale beer that clung to the air.

namjoon’s distaste for alcohol was well-known, a preference rooted in the queasiness it induced rather than any moral stance. to him, the presence of the empty cans was a nauseating reminder of indulgences he avoided. he turned his attention back to the comforting warmth of his coffee, seeking solace in its steady, untroubled existence. the silence of the morning was abruptly broken by the shrill ring of his phone, an intrusion that jolted him from his thoughts. he glanced at his roommate, ensuring that the phone’s call wouldn’t disturb his friend’s slumber. with a deft motion, he picked up the phone, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he answered.

the voice on the other end was as sharp and commanding as ever. “namjoon, good morning,” his boss greeted, the tone both professional and serious. “i trust you’re ready for the next assignment?” he nodded, even though his boss couldn’t see him. “of course,” he replied, his voice steady and attentive. “what’s the task?”

there was a moment of silence, heavy with anticipation, before his boss continued. “today’s assignment is likely the hardest one you’ve faced. we’ve come across a particularly elusive target. her name is (y/n) (l/n), and she’s not just any case. she’s known for her lethal precision and cunning. the stories you’ve heard about her are not mere rumors; they’re a testament to her skills.”

the gravity of the warning was palpable, and namjoon’s interest was piqued. he had heard fragmented stories about a woman of your reputation, a figure shrouded in intrigue and danger. he had never expected his path would cross with someone like you, nor had he anticipated the challenge this would present. “understood,” he said, his tone taking on a determined edge. “i’m aware of her reputation. if she’s as formidable as you say, i’ll handle it with the utmost care. rest assured, i’ll eliminate her with the precision and efficiency expected.”

the conversation concluded with a sense of mutual understanding and resolve. namjoon ended the call, his mind already strategizing the best approach to the task at hand. he looked once more at his roommate, who remained oblivious to the gravity of the conversation that had just transpired. with his coffee in hand and a newfound determination, he prepared himself for the day. the sight of the alcohol-strewn room and the hungover state of his friend were now just background noise, eclipsed by the seriousness of the mission ahead. the challenge posed by you—an enigmatic and dangerous opponent—was about to become the focal point of his day, a test of his skills and resolve that would push him to his limits.

you entered the coffee shop, the soft hum of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping you in a warm embrace. the morning light streamed through the large windows, casting a serene glow over the rustic wooden tables and mismatched chairs. as you walked to the counter, your mind buzzed with tactical considerations, strategizing the most effective approach to handling the formidable kim namjoon. the complexities of the task at hand melded with your thoughts, each possibility and scenario swirling in your head like the delicate patterns in your latte.

you placed your order with a casual ease, the barista’s polite nods and friendly banter barely registering as you were lost in contemplation. when you finally settled into a corner booth, the quiet rustle of newspapers and the clinking of cups provided a backdrop to your musings. men around the café couldn't help but steal glances in your direction, their eyes lingering with a mix of admiration and intrigue. you were accustomed to such attention, a mere side effect of the aura you carried, but it never failed to draw your awareness.

as you were absorbed in your thoughts, a voice interrupted the solitude of your reflection. “must be tiring, isn’t it? getting looks like that all the time?” the voice was warm and smooth, laced with a hint of curiosity. you turned your head to find a man standing by your table, a friendly smile playing on his lips. he had an air of casual confidence, his demeanor effortless and disarming. you couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed to effortlessly attract the gaze of those around him, much like you did. offering him a measured smile, you replied, “it seems like you’re no stranger to stares yourself,” gesturing toward the group of women who were openly admiring him from across the room.

he laughed softly, a sound that was both genuine and charming. “true enough,” he said with a shrug. “but it’s something i’ve chosen to ignore.” you tilted your head slightly, a playful glint in your eyes. “would you like to join me? it looks like most of the other seats are taken.” without hesitation, he accepted your offer and slid into the seat across from you. As he settled in, he extended his hand with a graceful flourish.

“i’m kim namjoon,” he introduced himself, his voice steady and inviting. a chill ran down your spine as the name registered, a shockwave of realization coursing through you. was it fate? you fought to maintain your composure, your face draining of color as you processed the situation. with a controlled breath, you extended your own hand and offered a smile. “i’m (y/n) (l/n). it’s nice to meet you, namjoon.”

his eyes widened imperceptibly, a moment of surprise flickering across his face before he masked it with a practiced ease. you were even more striking than he had imagined from the stories he had heard—an ethereal beauty that exceeded every expectation. his heart sank slightly, a sinking feeling that hinted at the gravity of the situation.

the two of you engaged in conversation, each of you carefully concealing your underlying tension. namjoon asked about your work, his curiosity piqued. you swallowed your nerves and fabricated a story, telling him that you worked in finance. his gaze remained steady, though the mention of your profession triggered an internal churn in his stomach. he responded with a lie of his own, claiming to work in business management—an elaborate deception. as the conversation flowed, punctuated by casual laughter and probing questions, you felt the delicate balance of this encounter shift. the façade of casual coffee talk masked the underlying intensity of your real interactions. with every exchange, you assessed his reactions, every nuance of his demeanor scrutinized as you navigated this unexpected encounter.

when the time felt right, you reached into your bag and pulled out a slip of paper, extending it toward him with a nonchalant air. “here’s my number. it would be nice to continue our conversation sometime.” he accepted the slip with a genuine smile, his eyes reflecting a mixture of intrigue and admiration. “i’d like that,” he said warmly, his tone sincere. “i’m looking forward to seeing you again soon.”

with that, you gathered your things, the weight of the morning’s revelations settling heavily on your shoulders. as you stood and made your way to the door, his gaze followed you, a lingering reminder of the complex web you had just woven. the encounter had been more than mere chance; it was a delicate dance of deception and allure, setting the stage for the intricate game that lay ahead. the bell above the café door chimed softly as you exited, leaving behind the warm, inviting space and the enigmatic man who would soon become central to your plans. the city outside bustled with its usual rhythm, but within you, a storm of anticipation and calculation brewed, your path now irrevocably entwined with his.

you paced your room with a measured intensity, the rhythmic scuff of your heels against the floor mirroring the churn of your thoughts. the walls seemed to close in, laden with the weight of strategy and anticipation. every corner of the room held a potential plan, a calculated move in the intricate game you and namjoon were unwittingly playing. the persistent buzz of your phone interrupted your brooding. you glanced at the screen, recognizing namjoon’s name. with a composed breath, you answered. “hello?”

“hey, (y/n),” his voice came through with a casual warmth. “i was wondering if you’d be interested in grabbing lunch sometime today. or am i already being too clingy?” you couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that was as light as it was genuine. “i’d love to have lunch with you, namjoon. where do you want to go?”

he suggested a charming bistro not far from where you were staying, a place known for its elegant ambiance and exquisite cuisine. you agreed, and after hanging up, you turned your attention to your wardrobe. selecting a dress that clung to your curves with just the right balance of elegance and allure, you prepared to meet your unexpected lunch companion.

arriving at the bistro, you found him already seated at a table near the window, his gaze scanning the room with an anticipation that matched your own. when he saw you, his eyes widened slightly, a clear reaction to your striking appearance. the corner of his mouth lifted in a genuine smile that softened the usual sharpness of his features.

“wow,” he said as you approached, his voice tinged with admiration. “you look amazing.” you smiled, feeling a warm flush of pleasure. “thanks. you don’t look too bad yourself.”

you both settled into the cozy booth, the soft light of the bistro casting a flattering glow on both of you. the menu was soon presented, and you made a decision almost automatically. “should we start with a bottle of wine?” you suggested, the words flowing with casual ease. his demeanor shifted subtly, a fleeting shadow crossing his face as he flinched slightly at your choice. “actually,” he began, hesitating for a moment, “i’m not really fond of alcohol.”

your curiosity was piqued. “oh? why’s that?” he leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. “my father was an alcoholic. it left a pretty negative impression on me. i avoid it whenever i can.”

you noted the pained edge in his voice, your own heart twisting in sympathy. “i’m sorry to hear that. let me get us a coffee instead. we can still enjoy a great meal without the wine.” namjoon’s smile brightened with genuine appreciation. “that sounds perfect. thank you.” you signaled the waiter and changed the order, opting for coffee instead. namjoon’s gratitude was evident in his appreciative nod, his eyes softening as he watched you.

the conversation flowed naturally, a gentle exchange about his father and the memories that lingered. “he was involved in some dangerous dealings,” he recounted. “the debts caught up with him, and eventually, it cost him his life. it’s a part of my past that’s hard to shake off.” you reached out, placing a comforting hand over his. “i’m truly sorry for your loss, namjoon. it must have been incredibly difficult.”

his gaze met yours, a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability shining through. “thank you. it’s been a challenge, but i’ve managed to move forward. meeting someone like you today has been a nice distraction.” as the food arrived, he leaned forward to serve himself. in a moment of unanticipated clumsiness, his glass of water tipped precariously on the edge of the table. instinctively, you reached out with practiced precision, catching the glass before it could hit the floor. it fell into your grip with barely a sound.

his eyes widened as he watched the maneuver, a dawning realization of your skill and preparedness clear in his gaze. “you’re pretty adept at handling situations,” he commented, a note of surprise in his voice. you shrugged lightly, attempting to downplay the incident. “just a little bit of practice. nothing to worry about.”

with a playful smile, you encouraged him to continue enjoying the meal. as the conversation resumed, the initial tension between you seemed to ease, replaced by a genuine connection forged over shared stories and experiences. the food was delightful, and the time spent together was as pleasant as it was unexpected. both of you indulged in the meal, savoring each bite and drink as if it were a reprieve from the unspoken truths hovering just beneath the surface. the lunch was more than a simple meeting—it was an intricate dance of charm and deception, a prelude to the complexities that lay ahead.

as you and namjoon strolled back toward your place, the conversation flowed effortlessly, the natural rhythm of it making the day feel almost ordinary. the world seemed to hum in harmony, your laughter mingling with the ambient sounds of the city, creating a brief respite from the tension that lurked beneath the surface.

however, as you approached a lamppost with a memorial photo attached, you felt a sudden jolt. the image on the pole was unmistakable—the face of the man you had eliminated the previous night. his eyes seemed to stare out from the photograph with a haunting, silent plea, and you shuddered involuntarily. namjoon, noticing your abrupt halt and the sudden pallor of your face, turned with concern. “what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

you swallowed hard, struggling to compose yourself. “i knew him,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “he was a friend.” his expression softened with empathy. “i'm sorry. that must be really tough.”

you offered him a shaky smile, appreciating his kindness. “thank you.” the two of you continued walking in contemplative silence until you reached your house. you turned to face namjoon, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions. without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him in a warm, genuine hug. it was a simple gesture, free from any ulterior motives, and as you held him close, you felt a fleeting connection that seemed both comforting and poignant.

his smile broadened as he returned the hug, his embrace warm and reassuring. “good night, (y/n),” he said softly. “i’ll see you soon.”

“good night, namjoon,” you replied, pulling away and watching him walk down the street with a bittersweet feeling.

as he made his way home, the streets began to fade into the distance, and he took out his phone. the sense of unease that had been bubbling beneath the surface now surfaced with a jolt. with a few swift taps, he brought up the details of the deceased man’s profile. his eyes widened in shock as he read the police report—the victim had been strangled to death with rope, and the case was eerily devoid of leads or footage.

his mind raced, the chilling realization of the situation dawning upon him. the pieces of the puzzle fell into place with unnerving clarity. he had just spent the afternoon with the very person who had carried out such a methodical and lethal act. the connection between you and the man on the pole was a stark revelation, and the weight of the truth settled heavily upon him. he shuddered, his thoughts spinning as he grappled with the realization of who you truly were—and what he now had to confront. the night seemed to grow darker and more foreboding as he walked, each step echoing the grim understanding that had just settled into his gut.

the next evening, you found yourself once again in the opulent embrace of the hotel. the grand ballroom, resplendent with its glimmering chandeliers and elaborate decor, was a far cry from the grim memories it held for you. the place where you had claimed your previous victim now seemed almost serene, its beauty contrasting starkly with the dark deeds that had unfolded within its walls. with practiced ease, you adjusted the earpiece nestled in your ear and connected with your boss. the cool, metallic voice of your superior resonated through the small device, crisp and unwavering.

“(y/n), are you in position?” the voice inquired. “yes,” you replied, your tone steady. “i'm monitoring the cctv feeds now. the hallways are clear, and namjoon should be arriving soon.”

“good. remember, we need to ensure the task is completed efficiently. keep your wits about you and stay focused.”

“understood,” you said, disconnecting the call and turning your attention back to the array of monitors before you. the security cameras provided a meticulous view of the hotel's layout, allowing you to track every movement with precision. your gaze was fixed on the entrance, waiting for namjoon’s arrival. when he finally appeared, impeccably dressed in a sharp suit that accentuated his striking features, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anticipation. he moved with a confident grace that only added to his allure, and you watched as he navigated through the crowd.

as soon as he entered the room, you swiftly disconnected from the monitoring feed, leaving the cameras to their own devices. you made your way through the throng of elegantly dressed guests, your heart beating with an unusual mixture of excitement and trepidation. “namjoon!” you called out, your smile warm as you approached him. he turned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “hey, you look absolutely stunning.”

“thank you,” you said with a playful glint in your eye. “should we head to the bar? i thought we might enjoy a drink.” the two of you made your way to the bar, the conversation flowing as naturally as it had the day before. you refrained from drinking, choosing instead to sip on sparkling water, a choice that did not go unnoticed by him. he observed you with a blend of admiration and curiosity.

“why no drinks tonight?” he asked, leaning closer to you, his voice a soft murmur. you met his gaze with a calm smile. “just a personal preference. i don't wanna drink in front of you.”

his heart swelled at your sincerity. “that’s admirable. i wish i had your self-control.”

after some time spent in pleasant conversation and gentle flirtation, you glanced at him with a knowing look. “if the noise gets too overwhelming, i’ve rented out a room here. we can escape the crowd if you’d like.” he seemed intrigued and a bit relieved. “that sounds like a great idea. lead the way.”

you guided him through the bustling crowd, the stares of other guests momentarily ignored as you made your way to the reserved room. the door closed behind you with a soft click, and an almost palpable shift occurred in the atmosphere. the room, dimly lit and serene, was a stark contrast to the lively chaos of the gala. as you stood there, his gaze was filled with a mix of awe and longing. without a word, he closed the distance between you, his eyes locked onto yours with a intensity that made your breath catch. he leaned in slowly, and you felt his lips brush against yours in a tentative, electrifying kiss.

you responded with equal fervor, your lips meeting his with a growing urgency. the kiss deepened, turning heated and passionate as the world outside seemed to fade away. his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as his lips moved with a fervent intensity. your fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him as the kiss became a fervent dance of desire and need.

his hands traveled to your waist, lifting you effortlessly and guiding you to the bed. you landed softly on the plush surface, your body arching slightly as namjoon followed, his lips never leaving yours. the bed beneath you was a luxurious expanse, and the sensation of his body pressing against yours was intoxicating.

his kisses trailed from your lips to your neck, his breath hot and uneven as he explored your skin. you moaned softly, the sound mingling with the rustling of fabric as he undressed you with a careful urgency. his touches were both tender and possessive, his desire evident in every caress. “you feel incredible,” he whispered between kisses, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers down your spine. “show me,” you breathed, your hands pulling him closer as the night unfolded in a passionate dance of exploration and desire. the world outside became a distant memory as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment, the intensity of your connection making every touch, every kiss, a thrilling and unforgettable experience.

his fingers traced the contours of your body, memorizing every curve and dip with a reverence that made you feel worshipped. his eyes, dark with lust, took in the sight of you laid bare before him. “so pretty,” he murmured, his voice thick with want. you felt a rush of heat pool in your belly at his words, and you reached for him, eager to return the favor. your hands found the hem of his shirt, and with a quick tug, you pulled it over his head, revealing the firm planes of his chest.

his skin was warm and smooth under your fingertips, and you took a moment to appreciate the sculpted muscles and the faint scent of his cologne that lingered. your eyes traveled down to the waistband of his pants, and a devilish smile played on your lips. you bit your bottom lip, and with a seductive glance, began to unbuckle his belt. namjoon watched you, his pupils dilated with anticipation.

once his pants were discarded, you took in the full view of him, your eyes widening with desire. he was already hard, his arousal clear and prominent. you reached out, your hand lightly brushing against his length, and he hissed through gritted teeth. you wrapped your hand around him, feeling him pulse in response to your touch. “fuck, you’re so big,” you said, a hint of wonder in your voice.

his hips rolled into your touch, and he groaned, his head falling back. “yeah, baby, just like that,” he encouraged, his voice low and strained. you stroked him slowly, savoring the feel of his skin, hot and velvety under your palm. “you’re so fucking sexy,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. your heart raced as you felt the power of his desire in your grasp. “i want you so badly,” you admitted, your voice a breathy whisper.

his hand reached down to cup your cheek, pulling you back up for a kiss that was as fiery as the passion in your veins. you could feel his urgency, the need to claim you, to make you his in every way possible. your hand didn’t stop moving, but instead picked up the pace, your thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock. “i need to be inside you,” he growled, his control slipping.

his words sent a bolt of excitement through you, and you nodded eagerly. he reached for a condom from the bedside drawer, and you watched as he rolled it on with a practiced ease. the anticipation was palpable as he positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. you took a deep breath, ready for the delicious stretch as he pushed inside you.

his first thrust was slow and deliberate, filling you completely. you gasped at the sensation, your nails digging into his shoulders. “fuck, yes,” you moaned, your back arching to meet him. he began to move, his rhythm steady and deep, his eyes never leaving yours. with each stroke, the pleasure built, your body responding to him in a symphony of sensation.

you matched his pace, lifting your hips to meet his every thrust. the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and muffled moans of pleasure. his grip on your hips tightened, his movements growing more forceful. “you’re so wet for me,” he said, his voice gruff with need.

you couldn’t help but let out a filthy response, the words rolling off your tongue with surprising ease. “i’ve been waiting for this all night. need you to fuck me hard, namjoon.” your words seemed to push him over the edge, and he obeyed, his hips driving into you with a newfound ferocity. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that had you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

his thrusts grew erratic, his breathing ragged as he approached climax. you felt your own orgasm building, your muscles clenching around him. “i’m gonna cum, baby,” he warned, his voice tight. you nodded, your eyes locked on his, and together, you fell over the edge, your bodies writhing in a delicious crescendo of pleasure. his release came, moans rolling off his tongue, and you felt yourself shatter around him, the intensity of your climax stealing your breath. for a moment, you were lost in the feeling, your bodies joined as one. as the waves of pleasure receded, he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving with exertion.

when dawn’s first light filtered through the thin curtains, you awoke to the disorienting haze of reality. the hotel room, now bathed in soft morning light, seemed almost serene compared to the passionate chaos of the night before. you lay on the bed beside namjoon, his body sprawled in a relaxed, innocent slumber, entirely unaware of the dangerous path that had led to this moment.

the memories of last night crashed over you like a tumultuous wave. the intimate connection you had shared with him, the unexpected depth of your feelings, and the chaotic rush of desire—all of it felt like a vivid, intoxicating dream. but reality was a stark contrast. you had a mission, a job to complete, and the time for pleasure had long since passed. as you slowly and carefully disentangled yourself from his warm embrace, you glanced at him. he was completely vulnerable, his handsome face serene and peaceful, the picture of tranquility. it was then that you remembered the task that had been set before you: to eliminate him. you had let your guard down, and it could cost you dearly.

your hand instinctively reached under the pillow where you had left it the night before. your fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. the sensation sent a jolt of adrenaline through you. your breath caught in your throat as you realized what you were holding—a gun. It was not your own; it was an unfamiliar weight that felt both foreign and foreboding. you pulled the gun from beneath the pillow, its cold metal a harsh reminder of the deadly precision required of your role. for a moment, your hand trembled around the grip. the thought of ending his life right then and there, of completing the mission with ruthless efficiency, was overpowering. his calm breathing, so close to you, only added to the intensity of the moment.

you aimed the gun at him, pressing it into his haie, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared at him. every instinct told you to pull the trigger, to end it all quickly and cleanly. but as you tightened your grip, the weight of the decision pressed down on you with crushing force. anger and frustration surged within you. it was supposed to be a straightforward task, a mere job to be done. yet here you were, paralyzed by your own conflicted emotions.

the gun felt heavy in your hand, the responsibility of the act you were about to commit weighing down on you. you cursed under your breath, a raw, guttural sound that seemed to echo your inner turmoil. your eyes burned with unshed tears as you fought with the impulse to follow through with the assassination. the gun trembled in your grasp, your resolve wavering as the reality of what you were about to do loomed large.

in a fit of anger and desperation, you hastily shoved the gun back under the pillow, as though trying to hide the physical manifestation of your internal struggle. you shoved on your dress with frantic movements, your fingers fumbling with the fabric as if it were a shield against the overwhelming emotions crashing over you. without another glance at him, you fled the room. the hallway outside seemed unnervingly quiet, each step echoing with the weight of your decision. your breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as you made your way through the hotel, each step driven by the desperate need to escape the oppressive weight of your failure. the mission had become a tangle of conflicting desires and stark reality, and you were left with the knowledge that you had to confront both, no matter how painful it might be.

the morning had settled into a quiet, contemplative silence as you sank into your armchair, the soothing warmth of the wine mingling with the turmoil in your mind. the shower had washed away the remnants of the night, but it did little to cleanse the confusion and guilt swirling within you. your hair was pinned up, an effort to restore some semblance of order to the chaos you felt inside. the half-empty wine bottle on the table served as a silent testament to your attempts at solace.

as you took another sip, the doorbell’s chime shattered the solitude. your heart skipped a beat. the sound seemed to carry an unspoken promise of complication. you set your glass aside and padded to the door, bracing yourself for whatever awaited you on the other side.

opening the door revealed namjoon, his presence as strikingly composed as ever. his soft smile greeted you, its warmth contrasting sharply with the chill of your internal disarray. “i hope i’m not intruding,” he said, his voice smooth and gentle. you blinked, momentarily lost for words. “not at all,” you managed, stepping aside to let him in. as he crossed the threshold, his gaze fell upon the nearly empty wine bottle, its presence seeming to draw an involuntary frown from his lips.

“do you drink this often?” he inquired, a note of concern edging his tone. you offered a wan smile, trying to mask the discomfort brewing beneath the surface. “i drink as often as i can,” you admitted, trying to sound casual despite the tumult within you.

his eyes softened as he looked at you. “how about we lighten the mood a bit? any plans for today?” relief washed over you at his attempt to steer the conversation away from the wine. “actually, no plans at all,” you said, feeling a flicker of hope. “would you like some breakfast? i could use the company.”

his smile broadened, and he agreed readily. “i’d love that.” you led him to the kitchen, your heart racing with an unsettling mix of anxiety and anticipation. as you prepared breakfast, the knife felt heavier than usual in your hand. each slice through the vegetables seemed to echo with the weight of your thoughts. you clenched the knife tightly, struggling to maintain composure, but namjoon’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts.

“are you uncomfortable with what happened last night?” his question was gentle, but it carried an undertone of concern that only deepened your internal conflict. you tensed momentarily, the knife’s grip tightening in your hand. “no, not at all,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “what about you?”

his smile was reassuring, but it did little to ease the knot in your stomach. “i enjoyed it quite a bit,” he admitted, his eyes holding a glint of sincerity. his compliment, however genuine, did little to dissolve the worry gnawing at you. you could feel his gaze on you as you worked, his presence a constant reminder of the dangerous duality of your situation. yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, you couldn’t help but appreciate his genuine demeanor.

as you plated the food, you made a conscious effort to push the wine bottle out of sight, its dark contents now a symbol of a past you wanted to distance yourself from. the wine in your glass met the sink’s drain, a small but significant act of cleansing. namjoon’s eyes widened slightly at the gesture, and he offered a look of quiet gratitude.

the breakfast was pleasant, if a bit tense. as you neared the end of the meal, an idea took shape. “would you be interested in going to the local fair with me?” you asked, trying to offer a distraction from the lingering unease. namjoon’s face lit up with genuine enthusiasm. “that sounds like a great idea. i’d love to.”

as you finished clearing the table, the simple, shared activity brought a momentary respite from the tangled web of your thoughts. the fair, with its bright lights and cheerful bustle, seemed like a perfect escape—a chance to savor normalcy amidst the chaos. little did you know, the fair would bring its own set of revelations and challenges, testing the fragile truce you had established with yourself and with namjoon.

the fair was alive with vibrant hues and lively sounds, a kaleidoscope of lights and music weaving through the crisp evening air. the scent of popcorn and cotton candy mingled with the excitement of the crowd, creating a sensory tapestry that seemed to momentarily lift the weight from your shoulders. namjoon’s presence beside you was both comforting and disconcerting, a constant reminder of the complexity of your situation.

as you strolled past the myriad of stalls and attractions, his enthusiasm was infectious. his laughter rang out, mingling with the ambient noise of the fair, as he pointed out various games and food stands. “you have to try that one,” he said, gesturing toward a colorful stall where a shooting game was set up. curiosity piqued, you followed him to the stand. The game was simple: shoot a gun at moving targets to win a prize. the booth was adorned with bright lights and plush toys, each one more garish than the last. the carnival worker handed namjoon a toy gun with a grin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he took it with casual confidence.

his demeanor was relaxed, his face lit up with a childlike excitement as he aimed at the targets. the way his fingers wrapped around the gun was almost graceful, and you could see the focus in his eyes as he lined up each shot. goosebumps pricked your skin, an involuntary reaction to the intensity of the moment. the steady click of the gun punctuated the otherwise joyous cacophony of the fair. each shot he took was precise, hitting the center of the targets with unerring accuracy. his movements were fluid and practiced, a testament to his skill and composure. as he finished, he set the gun down with a satisfied nod, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

“you’re really good at that,” you commented, trying to mask the unease that had settled in your chest. his smile widened, and he reached over to collect his prize—a large, plush stuffed toy, its bright colors and oversized eyes almost comical. he turned to you, his expression a mix of pride and affection. “here,” he said, extending the toy toward you with a charming grin. “i think this is for you.”

your fingers brushed against his as you took the stuffed toy, and you could feel the warmth of his touch linger on your skin. the toy was soft and absurdly large, its beady eyes staring up at you with an innocent expression. despite the cheerful facade, you couldn’t shake the cold, creeping sensation that the toy represented something far more ominous.

you accepted it with a smile, but your mind was racing. the stuffed toy felt like a symbol, a reminder of the precarious balance between your roles as predator and prey. you stared at the toy, its bright, plush exterior now a stark contrast to the dark reality that lurked beneath the surface. his gaze lingered on you, his eyes filled with genuine warmth. “i thought it might make you smile,” he said, his voice tender. “do you like it?”

you forced a smile, nodding as you clutched the toy a little too tightly. “it’s very thoughtful,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. the toy seemed to loom larger in your hands, a reminder of the mission that still awaited you. you had promised yourself that you would finish what you had started, but in that moment, amidst the lights and laughter of the fair, you found it increasingly difficult to reconcile your feelings.

his expression remained hopeful, his gaze never wavering. “let’s walk around a bit more,” he suggested, seemingly oblivious to the internal battle raging within you. you nodded, trying to push your worries aside and focus on the present. as you continued to wander through the fair, the toy felt like a weight around your neck, a reminder of the danger and deception that hovered just beneath the surface of your seemingly normal day. the fair was a fleeting escape, a chance to revel in the illusion of normalcy, but the shadows of your true mission loomed ever closer, threatening to shatter the fragile peace you had managed to cultivate.

the two of you eventually found a bench situated beneath a canopy of fairy lights, their gentle glow casting a warm aura over the space. the bench offered a moment of respite from the sensory overload of the fair, and you both settled down, the lively sounds of the carnival muted by the small oasis of tranquility.

as you sat side by side, you watched the children running around with boundless energy, their laughter mingling with the distant music of the fair. the sight brought a soft smile to your lips, a fleeting sense of nostalgia for something you had longed for but never quite had. “i’ve always wanted to be a mother,” you admitted, your voice almost wistful as you watched the joyous chaos before you. “seeing these kids, it just makes me realize how much i’ve dreamed about it.”

namjoon turned his gaze from the playful scene to you, his eyes reflecting a genuine warmth. “i can’t imagine you not being a wonderful mother,” he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity. “you have such a kind heart. i’m sure you’d be amazing at it.”

the compliment warmed you more than you expected, and you glanced at him with a tender smile. “thank you. that means a lot coming from you. what about you? have you ever thought about being a father?” namjoon’s eyes darkened slightly, a shadow of something deeper flickering across his features. he took a deep breath before responding. “yeah, i’ve thought about it. i always wanted to be a dad someday. i just don’t want to follow in my father’s footsteps.”

you could sense the weight of his words, the way they tugged at his heart. “you’re nothing like him,” you assured him, your voice firm yet gentle. “i’ve seen how you are with people, how you handle things. you’re kind, thoughtful. you’re not defined by your father’s mistakes.”

a pang of vulnerability flashed across his face, and for a moment, he looked lost in thought. he managed a small, grateful smile, though it was tinged with sadness. “it’s hard not to feel like i’m stuck in his shadow sometimes,” he admitted. “but hearing you say that—it helps.” the sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache, and you reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. “you’re creating your own path, namjoon. you have your own values and your own way of being. don’t let his past define your future.”

his smile widened slightly, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over him. “thank you. i guess i needed to hear that.” you both sat there for a moment, the carnival’s vibrant activity humming softly in the background. the connection between you felt genuine and poignant, the weight of your respective burdens momentarily lifted by shared understanding.

as the evening drew on and the lights of the fair glimmered around you, the conversation deepened, weaving a tapestry of hope and reflection amidst the backdrop of the carnival. the simple joys of the fair seemed to highlight the more profound truths you both were navigating, bringing a sense of clarity and closeness that neither of you had anticipated.

the evening had passed in a tranquil haze, and as you finally arrived home, the comforting stillness of your home seemed to envelop you. the echoes of laughter and joy from the fair faded behind you, leaving only the soft hum of your own thoughts.

you were in the midst of unwinding, removing your shoes and loosening your coat, when the sharp ring of your phone broke the serene quiet. the caller id displayed your boss's name, and a knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach. you answered, the line crackling with the unmistakable edge of frustration. “where have you been?” her voice cut through the air like a blade, its harshness bringing you back to the present with a jolt. “you were supposed to be focused. the mission isn't over. it’s crucial that you finish it.”

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself against the surge of guilt and urgency her words stirred. “i understand. i was preoccupied, but i’ll get back on track immediately.” the silence on the other end was brief but heavy, her displeasure palpable. “you have a job to do. this is not a game. you’re dealing with someone who’s as dangerous as they come. i need results, not distractions.”

with a firm sigh, you replied, “i’ll get it done. i promise.” the call ended abruptly, leaving you with a lingering sense of urgency. your gaze drifted to the drawer where you had carefully stored your weapon. with a mixture of resolve and trepidation, you walked over and pulled it open. your fingers closed around the cold, metal grip of the pistol, its weight a stark reminder of the gravity of your task.

you took a moment to steady your breathing, the echoes of the evening’s warmth fading into the background. the contrast between the peaceful day and the chilling reality of your mission was stark. As you clicked the safety off and checked the chamber, a steely determination took hold. tonight, you promised yourself, the job would be done. the warmth of your recent encounters would be set aside, replaced by the icy focus necessary to carry out your orders. the boundaries between personal and professional were blurred, but you had to navigate the dangerous dance with precision.

the night air was crisp and sharp as you approached his house, the weight of the pistol heavy in your hand. each step felt deliberate, every breath a careful measure against the storm of emotions swirling inside you. the street was quiet, shadows playing tricks in the moonlight as you neared the front door, which stood ajar. your heart raced as a chill of apprehension ran down your spine.

you hesitated, the open door a harbinger of foreboding. had he anticipated your arrival, or was something else afoot? the usual calm of his home felt eerie in its silence. you stepped inside, the creak of the floorboards loud in the stillness. you moved with practiced stealth, checking each room with growing trepidation. the soft murmurs you heard drew you upstairs, the sounds of struggle and muffled voices leading you to his bedroom.

the door was slightly open, and you pushed it gently, your pulse quickening. the sight that greeted you was one you hadn’t anticipated. the room was a disarray of empty beer cans, a stark contrast to the polished image you had seen earlier. namjoon was pinned against the wall, his roommate's hands wrapped around his throat in a desperate, violent struggle. the scene was raw, the tension palpable.

for a moment, you were frozen, shock and horror warring within you. but the urgency of the situation jolted you into action. with a swift, practiced movement, you pulled the pistol from your holster. the shot rang out, a sharp crack that cut through the chaos. the roommate crumpled to the floor, his body going limp as a bullet found its mark in his head. namjoon fell to his knees, gasping for breath, tears streaking down his face.

you rushed to his side, dropping to your knees beside him. “namjoon, are you okay? What happened?” your voice trembled with a mixture of fear and concern as you pulled him into your arms. hee clung to you, his sobs muffled against your shoulder. “he was an assassin,” he gasped between ragged breaths. “a part of a rival group. he came after me—and i couldn’t stop him.” his voice broke, the weight of his words pressing down heavily.

you looked around the room, the sea of empty beer cans now a grim symbol of his internal struggle. “what’s with all the beer cans?” you asked, trying to piece together the fragments of the night’s horror. namjoon swallowed hard, his voice strained. “he drank—a lot. the alcohol, it brought up old memories. bad ones,” he hesitated, a pained expression crossing his face. “i killed my own father, you know. it was me who took his life. the alcohol made him violent, it twisted his mind. i couldn’t stop it.”

the revelation hit you like a sledgehammer, leaving you reeling. the man you had come to care for was entangled in a web of violence and guilt. you tried to offer comfort, your own shock mingling with the empathy you felt for him.

“did you know about me? about who i am?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. you nodded slowly, unable to meet his gaze. “i did.”

he seemed to digest this, a troubled look crossing his face. “and i knew about you too. i left the gun under the pillow, to see if you would use it. when you didn’t, i knew you wouldn’t kill me.” the admission struck you hard. his confession left you feeling as though the ground had been pulled from beneath your feet. the intricate dance of deceit and truth that had bound you both seemed to unravel in an instant. your heart pounded painfully in your chest as you grappled with the realization.

despite the turmoil inside you, holding him in your arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, felt strangely precious. the notion of completing your mission seemed to fade in the face of his vulnerability. you tried to fight it, but the connection you felt was undeniable. his presence, despite everything, seemed more valuable than the task at hand.

as you held him close, the night’s darkness seemed to swirl around you, a reminder of the tangled, violent path that had brought you together. in the midst of the chaos, one thing was clear: the boundaries between duty and desire had blurred, leaving you both grappling with the consequences of a night that had irrevocably changed everything.

you held him close, the weight of the night crashing down on you as you tried to steady your racing heart. his tears mingled with yours as the gravity of your shared truths settled around you. his face was flushed, eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and sorrow as he clung to you.

in a moment of aching tenderness, you cupped his face gently, your fingers trembling. you leaned in, pressing a soft, bittersweet kiss to his lips. the kiss was delicate, a fleeting touch that conveyed a world of regret and unspoken emotions. the taste of his lips lingered, a painful reminder of everything that had led to this moment.

tears streamed down your cheeks, the sorrow overwhelming. you pulled back, the anguish in your eyes mirrored in his own. “i’m so sorry, namjoon,” you whispered through your sobs. “i’m so sorry.”

his confusion deepened, the words you spoke only adding to the turmoil. as you stood up, a fresh resolve hardened in your chest. with shaking hands, you pulled the gun from your side, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of your tears. you raised it slowly, pressing the barrel to his forehead. his eyes widened in shock, his breath hitching as he stared up at you.

but you couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. you turned away, the enormity of your actions crashing over you like a relentless wave. your fingers tightened around the trigger, the weight of your decision feeling unbearable. the muffled sound of the gunshot echoed in the small room, reverberating through your very soul. the finality of it struck you hard, and you stumbled backward, feeling as though your heart was being wrenched from your chest.

standing amidst the wreckage of your emotions, you fumbled for your phone. with a final, heavy sigh, you dialed your boss's number, each ring a jarring reminder of the mission that had led to this. the call connected, and your voice was shaky but resolute.

“it’s done,” you said quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “the job’s finished.”

✧.*

a/n: this hurt to write omg if yall want a happy ending lmk bc...

[chimcess]

A Picture’s Worth || jjk (teaser)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut Estimated Release Date: 07/2023 Est. Word Count: ~35-40k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, crime, robberies, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, major character(s) injured, police corruption, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, bad Russian, I tried my best; tbd... Author’s Note: It’s been a while since I’ve written a one-shot- especially something this long. So, I thought “why not?” I’ve already gotten A TON written, but still going. Editing will be... fun, to say the least. This has been really exciting to write so far, though :)

I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hoboken. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.

Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.

The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.

Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.

There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.

Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before. 

Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.

���Stop!”

Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

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[jimxnslight]

Finally Free || PJM

Summary: Kidnapped at a young age, Y/N is forced to work for an organisation that specialises in killing. All is well until she begins to realise her partner, Park Jimin, may be keeping more secrets from her than she realised.

Pairing: Park Jimin x reader

Genre: Assassin reader, assassin Jimin, enemies (?) to friends to lovers, assassins AU, angst

Word Count: 22.9k

Warnings: Kidnapping, murder/assassination, gun violence, knife violence, physical violence, major character death, mentions of a dead animal, blood, heated making out

��Once upon a time, there was a girl.

She was haughty and smug, plagued with the impression that those around her were inferior in every way possible. Her notion was not without foundation, for she topped her classes again and again, excelled in every activity she’d ever bothered to try, and had every student in the school wishing her to give them the time of day. Teachers lifted her with commendation and boys begged for but a simple chance. 

Her only problem was that she was too good, and she didn’t bother to hide it.

She would revel in the praises of her classmates, flaunting her grades and trophies to no limits. New strangers were not seen as the beginning of a novel relationship, but new opportunities to show off her excellence. Adoration had become her perpetual melody. 

Until one day the turntable turned no more.

The girl brushed her hair softly as she sat in front of her dresser, watching as the silky curls bounced against her nightgown. She was in awe at her porcelain skin and the delicate dip of her nose. Admiration for herself was nothing out of the ordinary, enough to put even a man like Narcissus to shame. But what she didn’t notice that night was the shadow watching her from afar. 

Its gaze fixated through the cool glass of the window with focus and intensity. Had the girl been just a little aware, she might have even caught it, but she was much too immersed in stretching across her bed happily as thoughts of tomorrow’s exam results filled her with glee.

Her ignorance continued as the shadow finally moved, slithering within the darkness until it emerged from the shadows, slowly stepping towards the girl.

That was the last time anyone had ever seen her again. 

Her parents had sworn they had heard a scream erupt from their daughter’s room at the strike of midnight, but upon stumbling into her room, they were only met with an empty bed, a window left wide open, and a message engraved on the alabaster wall dripping in crimson red blood:

‘We see all, we know all, we control all.’

The next day, gasps reverberated against the walls of the school. Not at the news of the girl’s disappearance, no the parents had not disclosed such information just yet, but at the results board that had been pinned in the hallway. 

The girl that had never gotten below a full mark in her life had just received a zero, her name written boldly at the end of the list of students. 

The day after, the school newspaper’s front page had, for the first time, displayed a headline worthy of turning the students' heads. It had been a three page summary of every sin the girl had ever committed, from cheating on her boyfriend in the eighth grade to bullying her friends into obedience in the tenth.

At the end of the newspaper, was an oddly written sign off.

‘We see all, we know all, we control all.’

One by one, everything the girl had worked hard for throughout her life had been torn down within a month- her reputation, her achievements, her school rank. Until one day, even the mention of her name was met with scoffs and rolled eyes. 

‘It’s good she’s gone, she got what she deserved.’

‘If she’s really done all that, I hope she’s dead.’

‘She was snobby and arrogant anyway, good riddance.’

Jealousy is such an easy tool to play with, and they indeed played it with ease. But their intentions were not influenced by such an emotion. The pettiness of an action motivated by jealousy was far too low for their standards. They took the girl because they wanted her. They wanted her brain, her body, her soul. And they didn’t need to ask permission from anyone. 

Because they see all.

They know all.

And they control all.

So, what is the moral of the story?”

The room was met with silence. Once upon a time you would rush to fill the quiet void created by the darkness of midnight and your mother’s expectations. Her words would seep into the marrow of your bones and create some of the worst nightmares you could think of.

But now you could only scoff.

“Don’t be a show off,” the words left your lips automatically. You were only half paying attention anyway, the mind of a nine year old tended to do that when being told the same story for what was probably the hundredth time. 

All you wished to do was burrow into the blanket covering your frame and fall into the peace that was a gift of sleep.

Your mother simply hummed. She had asked this question as many times as she had told the story, and your reply was always the same. Even her hum in response was no different from the other times. It was never any indication as to whether the answer satisfied her, only a mere act of acknowledgement. 

But instead of turning off the nightlight of your room and calling it a night like she always did, this time she stayed behind, gaze boring into yours as she watched your tiny figure hugging the pillow on the large bed.

“Is that truly what you believe the moral to be?” She asked unusually.

Your mother has always been ominous in everything she said. You were sure her words always held some kind of double meaning, like she knew things you didn’t and she wanted to make sure you knew it.

“Yes?” You replied, doubt weakening your response. Up until now, you had always believed that your answer had been adequate enough.

Was it not?

Your mother chuckled, another unusual action for her. Tonight seemed to be full of surprises. 

“You will figure it out one day,” she stood, obviously refusing to answer anything in a way that might make sense. 

“Did you lock your window?” She asked, checking the lock anyway.

You nodded your head, another routine question answered flatly.

“Then let your dreams give you comfort,” she said, one of the rare phrases of hers that genuinely brought warmth to your chest.

“Goodnight,” you replied, watching her walk out of the room while gently closing the door behind her. 

Your room was drenched in the night’s darkness, only a sliver of moonlight allowing you to see the outline of the fancy furniture distributed throughout the room. You could hear the screeching caw of a bird outside your window, the tick tocks of the grandfather clock hiding behind your dresser, and the occasional tussle of your bedsheet as you squirmed around. 

You were restless tonight, the words of your mother oddly bothering you awake.

If the moral of the story wasn’t to not show off, then what else could it possibly be? If the girl had not flaunted her achievements, they wouldn’t have known how smart she was and they wouldn’t have taken her. It was a logical answer with a logical explanation.

You huffed as you pushed the blanket off yourself and made your way to the window, eyeing the bright moon as you swam in the ocean that was your thoughts.

Maybe she should have tried to be more likeable? If she had been more genuine towards her friends, they might have liked her enough to search for her after her disappearance. That’s how it was in those movies, wasn’t it? The main character’s friend disappears, the police close the case due to lack of evidence, and then the main character takes it upon themself to search for their friend alone.

Maybe that was what your mother was trying to point towards?

You sighed, not feeling any kind of enlightenment at your ideas. Your small hands found the lock of the window and pulled it open, feeling the light breeze of the fresh air outside. 

Life is not a movie my dear child. Reality is a lot more harsh than what they make it out to be.

Your mother’s words echo in your mind, though you don’t even remember when she’s ever said them. She seemed to have grown a consciousness of her own in your head. You suppose most people would classify that as some kind of mental illness.

You felt yourself lean forward, resting your arms on the windowsill as you closed your eyes and basked in the chill breeze. For a fleeting moment, you wondered what it would feel like to walk outside, to feel soft grass, or hard sidewalk concrete. That was what normal people did, didn’t they? They went on walks and played in parks. But you had never done those things. Maybe that’s why you felt like you were going crazy.

As you opened your eyes, they suddenly flitted across a shadow that you swear you saw on the stone driveway of your house. It had been small, and if it had really existed, then it had also been very quick. You strained your neck forward so that you could get a better look outside of the window. Your driveway was still within your house thanks to a tall iron gate, so no one other than your mother and the maids could be outside and at this hour it was unlikely that any of them would even be up at all.

Deep in your thoughts, you didn’t realise just how far you had been leaning against the window until you felt your hold on the windowsill slip. Your arms slipped forward, bringing your whole body with you. You only had a second to register the fact that you were going to fall, from a height that could very much kill you. But you didn’t. Your body didn’t slip outside of the window, nor did it hit against the hard stone driveway. Instead, you felt a hand grab your collar from behind, and throw you across your bedroom. Your back collided with the wood of your dressing table, causing pain to flare in your bones. 

That’s when you finally saw him. 

A figure wrapped in black clothes stood before you as he breathed heavily. The only parts of him that were uncovered were his hair and hands, otherwise his face was covered by a black mask. 

You tried to get yourself to your feet, to scream at the sight of his presence, but he was much quicker. His hands were on you in seconds, one pinning you roughly to the floor while the other was held tightly against your lips.

Of course you struggled, but the figure kept you pinned with strength you could not match. You suddenly felt like the girl in the story your mother had just told you about.

Except this was real life. Either you would die here or you would be taken somewhere else.

With an idea forming into your mind, you slowly stopped struggling, letting your limbs fall to your side. The figure must have thought you were giving up because you could feel his grip loosening.

But he was wrong to think you wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

In a quick motion, you moved to hit him on the head. But even with the element of surprise on your side he was still quicker. Instead you hand connected with his face, and in a moment of desperation, you grabbed onto the black mask covering his features.

The cloth ripped off of him, causing the two of you to freeze. He looked like a normal boy, maybe a few years older than you, but definitely no older than 12. His cheeks were soft while they were framed by his dishevelled black hair. But his eyes…

Despite their common brown colour, there was a hurricane of emotions hiding behind them. Anger, determination, fear and pain.

So, so much pain. 

The two of you locked gazes for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds.

Then the boy stood and began dragging you towards your window, which was now wide open. Once you were outside, no one would be able to save you. Your fate would be handed over to this unusual boy.

A sudden panic overtook your mind.

“Wait! Please,” you begged, your hands clawing at his grip on your arm with no success, “I’ll do anything, just please let me go!”

He ignored you, continuing to walk towards his exit with no plans of stopping. 

“Please,” you were crying at this point, “who are you? What do you want from me?”

At those questions, he paused for a moment before slowly turning to face your small figure. His eyes were once again on you, this time regarding your arms, then your clothes, and then lastly your eyes. 

If you were in your right mind, you might have noticed the shaky breath that escaped his lips, but you were too busy being terrified over where your future lay now. 

He took a bold step towards you, causing you to back away as much as his grip on your arm would let you.

“Who are we?” He asked, his voice steady. It was the only thing you could focus on without panicking before nodding slowly. 

He took another step towards you, “after today your life will never be the same.”

Another step.

“You’ll either live in fear, shivering in the shadows of darkness.”

One more.

“Or you’ll learn how to hide in them and use them to rise to the top.”

You felt your back bump against a wall, but he didn’t stop until his face was barely a breath away from your own.

“Either way, you’re ours now.

Because we see all, we know all, and we control all.”

15 Years Later

“There’s no way you don’t see it. You’re dumb, but not that dumb.”

Your back leaned against the mahogany bannister in a crouched state as your neck strained to continue focusing on Jimin, who was crouched on the other side of the staircase mulling over your words. He had wisely chosen to ignore the jab you had sent him, opting instead to shift uncomfortably in his place with his position mimicking your own. 

Instead of an actual response, he just scoffed, turning his head to look between the gaps of the bannister rather than your face. Despite it, you could imagine his expression clearly, furrowed eyebrows and a narrow gaze as he waited for your target. 

Fortunately for the two of you, the owner of the mansion you were in had decided to go for an open concept layout, giving the two of you maximum coverage of the whole ground floor from your vantage point at the top of the wooden stairs. That, paired with the isolated nature of his mansion, was just making it too easy. You could do this mission with your eyes closed.

Which made this a perfect opportunity to bring up this topic to Jimin. It was just as much frustrating as it was pleasing how unserious he was about it. 

“I’m just saying,” you began, hoping to get the conversation going once again, “if you guys dated, it would be good for your reputation within the Organisation and you’d be loaded for life.”

You had to push away the rotten feeling in your heart at the mention of Jimin dating someone. It was so pathetic, all these years pining for a man that had probably never looked at you as more than a sister. But you couldn't help it. It was like in those movies you've watched, where the character's heart fluttered at his every touch. Or when he called their name and all their problems seem to wither away. Or just the thought of him brought a smile to their face. 

As embarrassing as it was to admit, that was exactly how you were. It was always fine, because if you had learned one thing from your life, even before who you are now, it was how to hide things. Hiding your emotions had especially become your specialty. 

But things were changing. You were starting to watch him when he spoke for too long, you started longing for his attention a lot more now and not to mention an incident involving falling onto him during a mission where you felt like your heart would explode. You were getting bad at the one thing you thought you were good at. 

And it was starting to hurt. All those years of pining weren't really torture for you, for some reason it was easy to call it nothing more than a crush back then. Knowing you could never have him was simply a fact that you didn't mind. You had his friendship and friendship was all you needed. But now, his presence did things to you, and whatever it was, it was painful. Watching him laugh only reminded you that one day it'll be someone else's and listening to him talk about the future only reminded you that one day he wouldn't be in it. 

Which was why you had to do this. You had to put some kind of boundary between the two of you so that these unwelcome thoughts would leave. So that you could finally go a day without thinking about him or without wishing he was by your side all the time. 

And what better way than to find him a girlfriend?

Jimin’s face turned towards you once again as you adjusted the idle gun in your hands, gaze scanning your expression and then your finger resting comfortably on the trigger. You were used to it. You had been under his constant gaze ever since you were 9 after all. 

Finally he turned away, staring forward in an oddly tired way. 

“No, I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean no? She’s the daughter of our leader. If you two dated, even eventually got married, you’d have her father’s protection and money. You’d be set for life,” you argued, chest fluttering weirdly in the process. 

But Jimin simply shook his head. You watched him for a moment, noticing his tense shoulders and furrowed eyebrows. He was a man of few words, you’d learned at least that much about him in the years you’d spent as mission partners. When something was on his mind, it took a little pushing to get him to open up. Since it was clear the mission couldn’t be what was bothering him, you guessed it was something else. 

“What is it?” you asked finally, gaze flickering towards the mansion’s front door in case your target showed up, “there’s something on your mind. Come on, tell me.”

He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts in the process. Just because he didn’t talk much didn’t mean he was stupid. He was the complete opposite really. Every word that left his mouth was calculated, an immense amount of thought and intention behind every sentence.

Finally, he spoke up.

“Do you really think she likes me?”

The question felt like a hammer to your chest. Any hope you had of fostering a more intimate relationship with the man a metre or two away from you was crushed by the sliver of hope you could hear in his voice. Of course Jimin would want to date her. She was rich, gorgeous, and, most importantly of all, the daughter of the Organisation’s leader. Who wouldn’t?

You pushed down the jealousy threatening to make itself known.

“Yes, I’m very sure she does. So what’s stopping you?”

The digital watch on your wrist suddenly lit up, a coordinate flashing on the little map illustrated in black and white. The target was close, but not close enough to matter right now. 

Jimin’s gaze lifted from his own watch, pausing once again, “even if she did like me, which may not even be the case, her dad would probably put my head on a silver platter before he’ll let her date me.”

“To me it seems like her dad doesn’t really care about what she does,” you thought out loud, “besides, I doubt he’d stop one of the best assassins in the Organisation from being with his daughter. If anything, he’d be glad he doesn’t have to pay for her bodyguard anymore.”

You hated how much you wanted him to refuse. To say that the real reason was because he didn’t like her like that. But his next words crushed your heart once again.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll try to talk to her when I get the chance.”

You wanted to ask him whether he’d been secretly pining over her this whole time, but it would have to be in a joking manner so that it looked like it didn’t matter to you and you don’t think you could muster up that kind of energy. You could barely muster the fake smile you sent his way.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to actually say anything because right at that moment, the doors of the mansion burst open and your target stomped into the room. Immediately you and Jimin took your positions, one knee steadying yourselves while your hands steadied the gun aiming towards the target. He hadn’t noticed the two of you yet as he grabbed one of the vases on a coffee table and sent it crashing against the fireplace. 

Though his anger seemed especially exaggerated, it didn’t really matter. Your mission had already been assigned, and nowhere in the outline had it said to figure out why your target was in such a rotten mood. 

So without even a glance at each other, you and Jimin each sent a bullet flying towards the target, one slashing through his right arm, while the other through his right leg. The target stumbled to the ground, flailing around while yelling obscenities that would make a viking proud. 

But no matter how hard he yelled, the only people that could hear him were himself, Jimin and you. 

The two of you dropped from the staircase and nonchalantly made your way to his writhing form on the living room’s carpet. The red of his blood seeped into the red of his carpet, so much so that an untrained eye might not have even been able to spot it. 

“Mr. Kang,” Jimin announced. His voice when he addressed people during missions was low and authoritative, one of the only things that really scared you about him. Sometimes you could even see him leading the Organisation itself with that voice. If he started dating the leader’s daughter, would that eventually become a reality?

He continued, completely unaware of your wild thoughts, “you have betrayed the Organisation with your acts of treason, and for that, you have been sentenced to die.”

The man stared up in horror as he watched you walk up to his broken form and point your polished gun to his head. There was no one that could save him now, this was the end.

As if that realisation dawned on him, he suddenly calmed himself down. The whimpers that had been echoing around the living room ceased and he pulled himself into a somewhat sitting position.

That made you and Jimin look at each other in confusion. 

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he started, voice strained in pain, “they’ve made you mindless puppets only to be used for their own biddings. And when you finally stop benefiting them, they’ll throw you away the same way they’re throwing me away.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “you’re being thrown away because you’re a traitor.”

“How can I be a traitor when they betrayed me first? They promised me they’d keep him safe as long as I did their dirty work, but my years of service were rewarded with what? My own hands dirty with his blood.”

You looked over at Jimin to share your confusion but were surprised to see his shoulders tensed. He was looking at the man on the floor with an unreadable expression, but you could have sworn you caught some fear in his eyes. 

The man’s eyes widened as he seemed to catch onto Jimin’s expression too, “he knows, doesn’t he?!”

He crawled forward and grabbed Jimin’s hand, but Jimin surprisingly didn’t move, “you know what is to come! Let me go! Rebel! Run away! Do not serve them even a second of your ti–”

A loud bang suddenly reverberated across the living room, putting an end to the man’s rambling. There was a shocked expression on his face as blood dripped from his forehead down to the bridge of his nose. In a matter of seconds, his body was slumped against the living room’s carpet and silence ensued. 

Jimin slowly put his gun back into his holster and started drenching the place in gasoline. But you stood, completely confused by the last 5 minutes. 

“What was that?” You finally asked, watching him drown the body in gas.

But Jimin remained silent as he continued quickly.

“He said something about they betraying him first… I’m assuming ‘they’ are the Organisation, but whose blood did he have on his hands? And why did he say you knew something?”

Jimin threw the empty tank of gasoline to the corner of the room and brought out a lighter, flicking it so that a small fire burst from the metal opening. He threw it to the ground, watching as the fire spread throughout the room. 

The two of you made it out of the mansion, watching as it crumbled to the ground in a mixture of fire and smoke. And yet after all that, he didn’t utter a word. It made you a little frustrated.

“Jimin, I’m asking you somethin–”

“It’s nothing,” He interrupted. His voice hadn’t even been loud, but there was a firmness in it that silenced you immediately, “ I don’t know what he was talking about when he said I knew something. I don’t know whose blood is on his hands and why it’s so important. He was likely just speaking nonsense.”

Both his gaze and voice was firm as he said his next words.

“But we have nothing to be worried about, I promise.”

It took you about a week after the whole incident to forget that man and his weird words, as well as Jimin and his even weirder behaviour. But your uneasiness didn’t leave that easily. You couldn’t quite forget the tenseness of Jimin’s shoulders and the fear you had picked up on in his expression for just a millisecond of a moment. 

‘He knows, doesn’t he?!’

Was Jimin really hiding something from you? It was hard to believe considering how close the two of you were growing up. Yes, Jimin was a quiet and relatively private person, but you’ve always thought that you knew him better than others. 

Had you been wrong?

And you couldn’t even begin to decipher the rest of the things the man had said. He was clearly against the Organisation because… they betrayed him? But how could the Organisation owe him anything? The Organisation owes nothing to anyone. Not to people like you. Not to the world.

‘You know what is to come!’

Was something coming that the Organisation wasn’t aware about? Or was the Organisation planning something that you all, within the lower ranks of the Organisation, didn't know was coming?

You groaned, sending three bullets through the centres of the holographic targets in front of you. So much for forgetting that incident. 

And to your disappointment, Jimin hadn’t said a word about it at all since that day. Instead he continued to be his usual quiet self, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Though, you couldn’t help but notice his shoulders tense once or twice in your presence, like he was expecting you to say something. But ultimately, you knew that if he didn’t reveal anything that day, he wouldn’t reveal anything through begging. 

“Ms. Y/N,” a voice behind you called.

You turned around to see a man dressed in a business suit waiting for you at the entrance of the training room. He had sunglasses covering his eyes and a small black wire indicating the presence of an earpiece. Your eyebrows furrowed. 

You didn’t know who that was. 

The man bowed, ignoring your confusion.

“There is a mission briefing in room 314,” he announced, “please come with me.”

He started walking towards said room, but you hesitated. Mission briefings were announced through your earpieces, you’ve never been summoned through a person before. 

“I would advise that you pick up your pace, Ms. Y/N,” his voice came from the hallway, “we wouldn’t want to keep your partner waiting.”

The mention of Jimin had you groaning inwardly. He could very well be lying to lure you into the room and do whatever it was he, or his boss, was intending to do. But what could happen, anyway? This was the Organisation. They saw all, they knew all, and they controlled all. How could this man be doing anything against them in their own building?

So with those thoughts in mind, and also a little worry for Jimin, you started following the man to the room. It didn’t take long, one efficient elevator ride later had you entering a room labelled ‘314’ in no time.

It looked like any other briefing room, except it looked old. There was dust accumulating in its corners, an outdated television perched on the wall and a large desk in the middle of the room with empty chairs surrounding it. 

Your room scan finally revealed Jimin standing near the side, posture rigid and hands behind his back. It was how you all usually stood when talking to someone above you. 

“Please, take your position next to him,” a female voice called. 

You did as you were told before you looked in her direction, which was smart now that you had identified the source of the voice. 

The Leader’s daughter, Han Iseul, stood elegantly at the head of the room, just barely paying attention to the two of you as she sifted through a few documents in front of her. She was dressed in business casual clothes that hugged her skinny figure well while her makeup was sharp and precise. She was trying to be nonchalant, but you could see through her facade as easily as looking through water. When she wasn’t moving, you caught her stealing quick glances at Jimin here and then. 

You hadn’t been lying to Jimin when you said she had a crush on him, and this only confirmed that even more. It took a lot of self control to reel in your jealousy.

“I’ve called you here today to brief you on your new assignment,” she announced finally, placing the documents she had been reviewing before on the table in front of her, “I advise that you listen carefully.”

You’ve never heard of anyone being briefed by the Leader’s daughter before, it’s always been by your superiors who had direct contact with the Leader. They would always contact you through your earpiece, outlining the tasks you had to get done, and leave you and Jimin to do your job. It’s never been this excessive.

You suspected it might have had something to do with her little crush. Some sad attempt at getting closer to Jimin by briefing the two of you on one of your missions. She really must be whipped for him to pull something like this in such a strict organisation.

“The reason for the abnormality in your briefing today is due to the private nature of this mission,” she continued, eyeing the two of you, “this mission is to stay a secret even within the Organisation. The only ones you may mention it to are yourselves and me.”

“The task I am assigning you will require you to guard the transport of a particular cargo. The details of the cargo will not be provided, but it is imperative that this cargo make it to its destination. The transport itself will take about two days, both of which you will be on active duty. We will not risk transport at night, so the cargo will be transported to a secure location on the night between these two days.”

“Any questions?” She finally asked. 

When she didn’t get an answer she nodded, “you will leave in two hours. Please prepare your gear.”

With those words, she left the room, but not before stealing a glance at Jimin one last time. It made you want to throw a chair in her face, but you knew you had no right to.

Once she had fully left, you turned towards Jimin, who had been quiet this whole time.

“Cargo protection? Since when are we, aka assassins, responsible for protecting cargo?” 

“This isn’t the first time we’ve been tasked with a mission that does not involve killing someone,” he said, checking his watch for the results of his gear checkup and inventory stock. Jimin’s always been a stickler for the rules. It’s why he’s one of the best assassins in the Organisation. 

“I’ll never understand why we get missions outside of our scope,” you huffed, deciding to check your own inventory. Even though the mission itself sounded stupid, Iseul had made it sound otherwise, so it must have been important. You weren’t dumb enough to be sloppy on a mission like this.

The corners of Jimin’s lips twitched in a slight smile, “I’ve already restocked your inventory and gotten your gear up to date. Just focus on not accidentally shooting the target’s sister again.”

“That was one time!” You huffed, feeling slightly offended, “besides, I doubt we’ll be shooting at anyone in this mission.”

“Lucky for you.”

You punched him in the arm, earning you an amused chuckle. The sound had butterflies swirling in your stomach until a sudden thought struck them all down.

“So… you and Iseul must have waited a while for me,” you began, dreading the answer to your question already, “did you guys talk about anything?”

The room quieted before Jimin answered your question.

“Yes, we talked a bit.”

Your eyes widened and without thinking you blurted out, “wait, seriously?” 

You don’t know why that came as such a big surprise to you, he had agreed with the whole dating thing after all. But Jimin saying something and Jimin actually doing something were two different things. And now that something was actually happening, you couldn’t help but feel even worse than before.

“Nothing too specific,” he said, not giving much detail. But that’s the type of boyfriend you expected him to be, private when it came to his relationships, “just general stuff.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him what ‘general’ meant. Did he mean general small talk? Or general dating stuff? Is that why Iseul was looking at him so much during the briefing? Did she realise that she finally had a chance with him? Or did Jimin already confess that he was willing to start a relationship with her? Were they already a couple?

You felt your throat start to close and tears prick the back of your eyes. 

Silly girl. Didn’t I tell you boys were not worth the time of day?

It’s been a while since your mother’s voice has made an appearance in your head. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve even thought about her at all. She was a distant memory. You could barely even remember her face. But her words have never left your mind, and right now was proof of that.

“Y/N?” 

You looked up at Jimin, who was looking at you with a concerned expression. He must have been elated, knowing he would eventually become the husband of the Leader’s daughter. And here you were, a pathetic girl with a pathetic school girl crush. 

“I’m going to go double check my gear,” you managed to get out before making your way out of the room. 

You just hoped your voice didn’t betray how vulnerable your heart was. 

The breeze lashed at your hands and shoulders as you sped on your motorcycle at the first sign of dusk. In front of you stretched an empty highway owned specifically by the Organisation, while on your left was the truck carrying the cargo you had been tasked to protect. Outside of your view you knew Jimin, who was speeding on a motorcycle similar to yours, was likely on the other side of the truck. 

The two of you had been on the road for hours, silently taking in the scenery that zoomed by you. Missions usually weren’t like this. Usually, you’d be raving about the storyline of the new movie or television show you were watching recently while Jimin tried to understand with an amused expression.

But tonight, you couldn’t bring yourself to say much of anything. Iseul and Jimin’s relationship had only just started, and you already felt like a truck had run you over. You couldn’t imagine how it would be when they started getting more serious.

You shook your head in frustration, trying to get the thoughts out of your mind. Since when did you become that girl that was head over heels over a man? Why was it so hard for you to let him go?

“To your right,” you heard Jimin’s voice through your earpiece. For a second you thought he was alerting you of an attack, but when you looked to your right, you watched a bunch of horses running across an empty field together. It was enough to bring a smile to your face, watching them gallop freely. 

What must it feel like to be free?

“The holding facility is just a few metres ahead,” the voice of the cargo’s driver spoke from your earpiece, “once the cargo is safely transported there, the two of you can go on break until morning.”

You could hear Jimin’s voice agree along with yours as all three vehicles turned towards the highway’s exit. The more you all continued forward, the thicker the trees beside the road started to get until you and Jimin were forced to ride behind the truck. 

A few more metres later, a large facility appeared within the thicket of the forest, hidden well to anyone that wasn’t looking for it. Either way, a large metal gate stood between you three and the facility, ensuring no one could get inside unless they had clearance. 

All three vehicles came to a stop in front of the gate simultaneously. 

“I’ll send the message to headquarters that we’ve made it so that they unlock the gate and then I have to manually open it, so wait here and guard the cargo until I get back,” the truck’s driver said. You could feel his end of the line go silent as the truck’s door closed and he started making his way to a control panel that was likely out of sight. 

That left you and Jimin standing awkwardly next to each other as you waited for the driver to come back. You don’t think the two of you have ever been this uncomfortable with each other. 

Jimin seemed especially conflicted as his eyes flickered to your form every few seconds. Sometimes he’d open his mouth to say something, only to close it once again. 

It was literal torture, and after a few minutes, you just couldn’t take it anymore. 

You scanned the now dark area, desperate to do something other than marinate in the awkwardness. The trees surrounding you were endless and the sky exhibited a few interesting stars, but it was when you looked in front of you that you got an idea. 

“Let’s look inside,” you said suddenly, pointing towards the cargo.

Jimin, who initially seemed surprised by the fact that you spoke to him, processed your words with a horrified face, “what?” 

“Let’s see what’s inside this thing,” you repeated, slapping the giant metal crate, causing Jimin to flinch. You might have laughed at his horrified expression if you weren’t in such a sour mood. 

“Y/N, we can’t do that,” he hissed, reaching towards your arm to pull you away from the truck, but you dodged him easily. 

“We’re literally risking our lives protecting this thing, the least they can do is let us see what’s inside.”

“And what if they catch us?”

You shrugged, already working on the giant latch. Jimin tried to pull you down once again, but with no luck. 

“I mean it Y/N,” he said more firmly, “they could kill us.”

“Relax, I’ll take full blame for it if we do,” you replied, finally getting the latch off. 

“I don’t care about myself, I care about–” 

His voice faltered as the door of the crate finally swung open. It was dark, too dark to accurately make out what exactly was inside. Jimin felt his heart drop as you took a step into the metal box. 

“Y/N–” he tried again, but his eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, and the crate’s contents could finally be deciphered.

“They’re… weapons?” You said, confusion clearly laced in your tone. 

The crate was stuffed with different kinds of weapons: guns, grenades, daggers, you name it. There had to be at least thousands of them, all neatly stacked so that no space was wasted within the crate. 

“What could they possibly need so many weapons for?” You thought out loud, scanning them all. 

The Organisation was not in need of any more weapons at all, which meant a restock was out of the question. So why were they transporting so many weapons?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy steps against the concrete. 

The driver was back.

You heard Jimin curse under his breath as he gently pushed you towards the crate’s door, “get it closed, I’ll distract him.”

Without another warning, he quickly made his way to the side of the truck, stopping the driver in his tracks with a conversation you couldn’t quite hear. But it didn’t matter as you struggled to get the heavy latch closed. 

“Dude we have to get this done before HQ thinks there’s something up,” you heard the annoyed voice of the driver get louder as he got closer to the back of the truck. 

Your arms tried to force the latch down so that it could lock again, but it wouldn’t budge. Only now were you starting to panic. When you turned to the side, the front of the driver’s shoe peeked from the corner of the crate. One step. Just one step more was all the driver had to take to see your form near an unlocked crate, simultaneously signing your death certificate in the process. 

“Wait!” Jimin suddenly yelled. 

The driver paused, looking back at him with confusion. You could still see his shoes around the corner, but with newfound adrenaline, you finally shoved the latch down, allowing it to lock in place. 

Your shoes just barely touched the ground when the driver turned the corner. He first scanned the crate, then you, and then Jimin, who looked like he had gone through ten different heart attacks in the span of a minute. 

“What the hell is going on here?” He asked, picking up on something odd. 

But you only shrugged, “I was peeing in the bushes and I guess Jimin wanted to save your eyes.”

The driver immediately scoffed in disgust.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning,” he said, getting back into the driver’s seat and driving the crate into the gates. 

Jimin was scowling at you, but it was nice not being the only one in a bad mood. 

“There’s a town nearby, let’s find a hotel there.”

Turns out the mentioned town was actually experiencing some kind of holiday, which meant crowds upon crowds of people swarmed the place. The good news was that crowds meant a less likely chance that you and Jimin would ever be remembered. The bad news was that the place was so crowded you two could only book a single hotel room for yourselves. 

Thankfully, the room itself was a suite, so the bedroom was separate from the common room, but that meant only one person could sleep on a bed. Considering the heart attack you gave Jimin earlier, you had insisted he take it, but Jimin, being the predictable man he was, wouldn’t have it. 

That left you staring up at the ceiling from the stiffly made bed while Jimin laid on the sofa in the common room. 

Despite the moonlight that shone into your dark room through the window curtains and the lulling sounds of the wall clock and AC, you couldn’t sleep. You’ve always had an issue with sleeping thanks to nightmares and likely some insomnia, but tonight seemed especially bad. Although you could usually sneak in a few minutes of sleep every hour or two, you could barely even manage to close your eyes now. 

You blamed Jimin, particularly his face, for your lack of sleep. Every time you felt your eyes close, you could see him staring back at you with his kind brown eyes and black parted hair. You could even remember him when you first met him, eyes wild with untamed emotions and long black hair. He had grown up so much since you met him, into someone that was intelligent but mature. Gentle but ruthless. Quiet but authoritative. It was his duality that you liked about him, because despite his extremes, he was still balanced. 

The mattress creaked under your weight as you shifted, eyes still focused on the ceiling. You couldn’t keep having thoughts like this if Jimin was going to start dating someone else. It would be unfair to him and his significant other, not to mention if Iseul found out about your feelings you have no doubt she’d have her father end you in a matter of seconds. You couldn’t tell whether it was funny or pathetic how the fear of death amounted to nothing in the face of hurting Jimin and his happiness. 

The sound of the door creaking open had you jerking upwards and reaching for the gun under your pillow, but you paused when you noticed Jimin’s hand on the door knob.

At the sight of you awake, he seemed to sigh in relief. 

“What is it?” You asked, as he made his way to the side of your bed. 

“Come on,” he said while his hand gently wrapped around your arm and pulled you up, “let’s watch a movie.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t give you a chance to protest as he guided you to the common room. When you made it to the television, you noticed two bowls of popcorn already sitting on the coffee table and the red and black colours of Netflix exhibited on the screen. 

Jimin let you down on the couch with your legs crossed before settling on the ground in front of it. You could feel his shoulder brush against your knee softly, and it took everything in you to keep the butterflies at bay. 

“Pick something,” he said, handing you the remote. Your body was on autopilot now, mindlessly shifting through movies and shows you had watched a bunch of times already. 

When you didn’t pick anything for a while, mostly because you were focusing more on pretending Jimin’s shoulder wasn’t pressing against your knee, he frowned.

“You’re mad at me.”

You felt yourself tense as he turned to look at you. 

“I don’t like it when you're mad at me.”

Your gaze couldn’t meet his, opting to continue looking through the Netflix catalogue instead. But Jimin gently took the remote from your hands, forcing your gaze back to him.

Why are you mad at me?

You could practically hear his next words, but to your surprise, his question was different from the one you were expecting.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

The scoff left you before you could stop it. Of course you remembered the most traumatic day of your life. 

“You mean the day you kidnapped me?” You deadpanned. 

Your tone had been more humorous than accusatory, but Jimin looked like you had shoved a knife in his chest. He nodded weakly, and it suddenly dawned on you that maybe that day had been just as traumatic for him as it had been for you. 

“That had been the day I had finally finished my first stage of training,” he started, looking straight ahead at the screen idly, “they used to have this mini ceremony when that happened, kind of like a kindergarten graduation. They gave me some cake. Told me that I would grow up to be useful to the Organisation. There was just one little thing I had to do.”

His shoulders tensed again, “I had to kidnap you from your home and bring you to the Organisation.”

“And despite not knowing what they would do to you, whether they would kill you or force you to join them, I agreed.”

His gaze fell to his hands, “your mother had never let you outside of the boundaries of your home a day in your life, like some real-life Rapunzel. I doubt she expected anyone to even know about your existence. It had been so easy to just break into your room one night, grab you and take you back to the Organisation.”

Jimin turned back to you, the moonlight illuminating the pain in his expression, “Y/N, you deserve someone better than me. Someone that doesn’t make selfish decisions. Someone that didn’t doom you to this life.” 

Your eyes were wide at his words. Despite this entire confession, there was only one thing that you could say.

“You know?” You realised incredulously, “you know about my feelings?”

You didn’t need an answer, it was already written all over his face. He was begging you to forget him, to ‘find someone better.’ This whole time he’s known while you had naively believed that you had been hiding your emotions from him successfully. You couldn’t tell whether you were embarrassed by that or just purely in shock. 

After the initial reaction wore off, and you could process what he was saying a little better, you furrowed your eyebrows, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be stuck in this organisation, forced to kill and stay obedient. You could’ve had a life, Y/N, but I took it away from you.”

You raised an eyebrow, “what life? Another decade trapped in the confines of my mother’s home? Knowing her, I doubt she would’ve let me out of there anytime soon. Besides, if you had refused, they would have just gotten someone else to do it. I’m glad I at least got someone like you, who's been with me and supported me every step of the way.”

But Jimin still shook his head, barely hearing a word you were saying. You never realised just how deeply he still thought about that whole ordeal. Aside from a few nightmares every now and then, you didn’t think about it much anymore. You had already suspected that Jimin had been forced into it, so you had never even held it against him either. But it was clear it was still a big deal for him. 

You sighed.

“What about before the Organisation?”

Jimin let a hand run through his hair, reliving the memories of his childhood, “I’ve been an orphan for as long as I can remember. I jumped between a lot of foster homes and orphanages, but ultimately I ran away. Even the streets were better than most of those places. The Organisation managed to grab me when I was living there. Obviously since I didn’t have a family no one really cared, so I guess I made a perfect target.”

You tilted your head, “and you’re still going on and on about being selfish and dooming me? You were a child they had taken advantage of. If you had refused to kidnap me, you would have failed that task. And we all know what happens when you fail a task in the Organisation.”

The faces of numerous children you had grown up with came to mind, all of which had failed in some way or another, and all of which had never been seen again. The Organisation wasn’t just some teaching school that reprimanded you when you did wrong. It was unforgiving and bloodthirsty, and even the youngest of children knew that.

Jimin’s gaze remained forward as you let him swim in his own thoughts for a moment. You hoped he was at least starting to let go of the guilt that’s been seemingly eating away at him for years. It hurt to see him in so much pain.

“I should’ve stopped them.”

“Then you’d be dead.”

“I should’ve refused them.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“You deserve better than me, Y/N.”

“That’s my decision to make, don’t you think?”

He was silent once again, watching the different shows flash on the screen. You could still see his shoulders tensed and a pained expression on his face. Though he might have been slightly convinced, you could tell he still felt uneasy. 

Slowly, you sank down to the floor next to him, earning you a confused look. But before he could refuse, you wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him closer to you in the process. Jimin paused for a moment, clearly surprised by the sudden action, but after a moment, you felt his arms hesitantly surround your form as well. 

“You’re the only reason I’m still alive today, Jimin. I would have never been able to survive the Organisation’s training if you hadn’t spent day and night teaching me. You’ve always been by my side every step of the way, not just as a partner, but as a friend. So please don’t hurt yourself with guilt, you have nothing to be guilty for.”

You felt Jimin pull you closer as he rested his head on top of yours. It was almost desperate, like he was afraid you’d disappear at any moment. 

“I like you too, you know that?” He said suddenly, “no matter how crazy you drive me sometimes, I’ll always care about you. I promise.”

You pushed yourself off him, scanning his face with wide eyes, “But what about Iseul? Didn’t you guys… talk? Don’t you like her?”

Jimin chuckled, “no, we did not talk and no, I do not like her.”

“Then why did you say you did?”

His expression became sad as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear delicately, “because as much as we both want this, it can’t happen.”

Your gaze dropped to the floor, letting silence engulf the moonlit living room. He wasn’t wrong. The Organisation had banned any romantic or sexual relationships between members a long time ago, and breaking those rules unsurprisingly resulted in the punishment of death. Jimin’s confession changed nothing.

But that didn’t make his confession meaningless. If it wasn’t for the Organisation, the two of you could have had a life together. You could have loved each other freely, under no one’s terms. For the first time in a long time you felt a familiar anger towards the Organisation. For stealing you away from your home, and forcing you to do their dirty work while staying obedient to their rules. You were nothing but their slave, and one step out of line would cost you your life without a second thought. 

And the worst part was that there was nothing you could do about it. The organisation didn’t lie when they said they saw, knew and controlled everything. It was terrifying how deep their branches ran in the network of society. They lurked in the shadows of the law, swam in the dealings of businesses, controlling them quietly while people went about their lives cluelessly. They could probably watch the two of you right now if they wanted to, with no repercussions whatsoever. 

You didn’t realise your hand had curled into a shaking fist until Jimin’s fingers brushed against it slowly. He let his fingers interlace with yours, calmly caressing the back of your palm with his thumb. 

“It’s unfair,” you said, like a child throwing a tantrum, but Jimin only nodded his head. 

“I mean, why us? There are so many people in this world living their own lives, completely unaware of the Organisation's mere existence. Yet, we had to be one of the few unfortunate people stuck under their cruelty. Where’s our justice?”

Jimin pulled you into his arms once again. He had no words of comfort for you, but then again, what comfort could you give two birds in a cage when you knew they had no chance of escape. There was no justice for people like you. The ones who worked in the shadows died in the shadows after all. 

Your eyes widened as you suddenly felt his lips brush against your forehead lightly, causing your stomach to do backflips. Even though it was only for a brief moment, they felt so soft and loving on your skin that you knew you’d forever remember this moment for the rest of your life. 

But his kiss didn’t just feel like an act of comfort, it also felt like a little act of rebellion. Like it didn’t matter that the Organisation had banned relationships because Jimin was choosing to kiss you anyway. It made you selfishly happy, despite the risk it posed for the two of you. 

You jumped out of Jimin’s arms, happy to see a similar smile perched on his lips as you grabbed the remote. 

“Funny but wholesome, with a side of angst,” you announced, “I know exactly what we need.”

You sifted through a few titles before clicking on one of the best movies of all time.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched the loading screen pop up, “is that a panda? Are we going to watch some kid’s show?”

But you simply covered his mouth with your hand as you grabbed one of the popcorn bowls and  leaned your head against his shoulder. 

“Do not attempt to put down Kung Fu Panda, it will only bring you dishonour and shame.”

Jimin shook his head with a chuckle as he pulled you closer into him. What you didn’t know was that he didn’t really care what you put on the large screen. 

In the end, his focus would be on you every time.

 

The next morning, the two of you were back on the road speeding through the freeway. The landscape had changed from grassy lands and animal farms to vast fields of beige dirt and rocky mountains. As if reflecting the sorry state of the scenery, the weather was also dreary, with thick grey clouds and the smell of a thunderstorm brewing. It didn’t seem to be an immediate threat, but you made a note to keep an eye on it in case it became an obstacle to the transport. 

While yesterday was filled with awkward silence, today’s silence was comfortable and calm. Images of last night flashed in your mind once in a while, of Jimin’s arms around you and his soft lips against your temple. Even though it made you as giddy as a school girl, you couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about it. 

But there was also this new feeling of grief weaving through the muscles of your heart, weighing your limbs down so that every movement took just a little more effort than before. It was the mourning of what could have been that brought on such a response. Of the life you and Jimin could have had if you both weren’t shackled to the Organisation in inescapable iron chains. You’d learned to live with the reality of your fate, but now that you knew the value of what they had truly taken away from you, you were finding it harder and harder to maintain such a mindset.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the driver, who announced your arrival at the final destination. The facility that finally came into view was almost identical to the facility you all had stopped at last night, except this one was at least three times larger. As the three vehicles approached the gate, you watched it automatically open, allowing the three of you to drive through effortlessly. 

Once you made it inside the facility itself, the driver bid you both farewell, turning to drop off the cargo wherever he had been instructed to. There was no reason to meet up again considering your task was done, so it was safe to say you wouldn’t be seeing him again anytime soon. 

That left you and Jimin standing idly in the centre of the warehouse, in awe at its size and the diversity in equipment surrounding the two of you. The walls were lined with dozens of giant computers, while the corners were filled with tables holding various blueprints and documents. 

It was a little… messy compared to the Organisation’s normally strict and organised style. The computers were all mismatched and some of the documents had even fallen to the floor. They would never be so careless with their equipment. 

“We should get going,” Jimin said, taking in the unusual setup as well. But following the rules had always come more naturally to him than you. 

Then again, it was important that assassins be ready for the next mission immediately after completing one. And with the intimate moment that happened last night, you were thinking maybe you shouldn’t test the Organisation’s patience too much. 

You sighed, trudging reluctantly behind Jimin as he started making his way towards the exit. Your mind was whirling with theories that attempted to explain what was going on here and why. The only explanation you had was that they were in a hurry responding to something, causing them to be hasty in their actions. Could this tie into what your target in the mansion had said? Was there really something coming? But then why would he tell the two of you to rebel and run away? Was he indicating that this would be the only opportunity to do it?

Jimin pulled the large door open, waiting for you to pass through, and you were about to do just that when your gaze suddenly caught a flash of light near the corner of the room, hidden behind one of the computers. Even though it was dull, it was still bright and enough to trigger your curiosity. 

Jimin’s gaze followed your own until it landed on the light as well. His expression suddenly aged like 10 years on the spot. 

“Y/N, no.”

But you were already walking through the concrete floor, determined to figure out the source of such an abnormality. As you got closer, another computer came into view, bigger and more importantly, already turned on. The dull light had been coming from its screen. 

Jimin’s eyes widened at the discovery, “what are you going to do, break into their computer? We should leave, Y/N.”

“It’s not ‘breaking in’ if the computer is already on,” you reasoned, “besides, don’t you want to know what’s going on here?”

He just shook his head, “we could get in trouble for this.”

Before you could reply, the screen suddenly dulled, indicating that it would turn off in a few seconds. You rushed to it and moved around the mouse, causing the screen to brighten once again. 

With the mouse underneath your fingers, you couldn’t help but snoop around the files a bit, opening them at random to look for anything interesting. Despite his earlier words, Jimin peeked from behind your shoulder, scanning the contents of the screen. You had to ignore the press of his body against your back. 

After one particular click, you noticed a file that seemed a lot larger than the rest. When you opened it, you felt your eyebrows furrow. 

Dozens of blueprints began to fill the screen. At first, you couldn’t recognise what they were illustrating, but then you started to notice a few familiar layouts here and there. 

“They’re blueprints for the Organisation’s building,” you muttered.

You clicked another file that revealed all the timetables of the Organisation’s higher ups down to even the Leader. Next to every name that popped up were red flashing letters spelling ‘optimal timings.’ Curious, you clicked on one of them.

Your eyes widened when a full page suddenly popped up. Within it were all the timings in which the Leader was vulnerable in one way or another: when he dismissed his bodyguards, when he was in public, when he was alone, etc. And every timing was accompanied by the most efficient ways to kill him. You clicked through all the other red inscriptions, taking in the well-thought out and very achievable schemes that could very much have all the higher ups of the Organisation dead. 

“They’re planning a hit on all the Organisation’s higher ups,” Jimin concluded, “but why would the Organisation want to harm itself like that.”

You thought back to the unusual way you and Jimin had been summoned for this mission. 

‘The reason for the abnormality in your briefing today is due to the private nature of this mission.’

‘This mission is to stay a secret even within the Organisation.’

“Because it’s not the Organisation that’s planning all this,” you realised, “it’s Han Iseul, the Leader’s own daughter.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, letting the discovery fully process in your mind. It was the only explanation that made sense, at least to you. But why? The only thing you knew about the Leader’s daughter was that she was largely ignored by the Leader and the Organisation. She didn’t really have any responsibilities, but being the Leader’s daughter, she had an image of purity and power to uphold so that her father didn’t look weak. Maybe she was tired of being nothing but a puppet? You knew you could relate to that. 

You turned towards Jimin, “is this what the man in the mansion had been talking about? What you knew about, but didn’t tell me.”

No.

He hadn’t said anything, but the answer was written all over his face. Jimin looked just as shocked and confused as you did, which had you even more confused than before. There were just too many things happening right now, too many mysteries popping up just as old ones were uncovered. You’re pretty sure your head was hurting from all the thinking you were putting it through. 

But then you realised the weight of your discovery. The Leader’s daughter was staging a coup of some sort in the Organisation. Whether it would be successful or not, it was clearly going to be a big event, one the Organisation wouldn’t see coming. What if you and Jimin could take advantage of that? During all the chaos and battling, what if…

“What if we ran away?” You whispered, as if afraid the Organisation would hear you if you spoke any louder. 

Jimin’s face snapped towards you in surprise. The mere thought of defying the Organisation had you shaking down to the bone, and you were sure he was no stranger to the fear you were experiencing right now. But this could be your ticket to freedom, an opportunity to finally be free from the clutches of the Organisation and their tyranny. 

If not then, it would be never. 

You watched Jimin’s mouth open only for it to close when a buzzing sound came from your earpiece. 

“L/N Y/N, announce your presence,” a stern automated voice stated. 

You internally groaned, knowing the Organisation already had a mission ready for you. 

Your response was in harmony with Jimin’s as he also confirmed his presence, no doubt hearing the Organisation in his own earpiece as well. The two of you stood idly, waiting for the outline of your new assignment.

“Your next mission will consist of the following task,” the stern voice continued, completely devoid of emotion, “Within the next half an hour, beginning at the exact moment this call ends, you must eliminate your target and dispose of the body effectively. Your target is as assigned:”

There was a pause as the database searched for the target that had been assigned to you, before your heart dropped.

“Park Jimin.”

The familiar click of the line going dead had never sounded so deafening in your ears. Your limbs were still with tension as you tried to process words that felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating the last remnants of any breath left in your lungs. 

‘Park Jimin’

You had to kill Park Jimin

The man that’s been there for you since day one, the reason you're standing here today. Your assignment was to end his life so that you could never gaze upon him again. 

You slowly turned to Jimin, expecting his expression to mirror your own. But instead, his lips were pulled into a taut line while his gaze was aimed straight ahead of him. That was when you realised that Jimin’s expression wasn’t that of shock, it was one of resignation. 

He knew. This is what he had been hiding, what he had known and kept from you this whole time. You wanted to ask him so many questions. How did he know? Why was this happening?

But you could only force out one sentence.

“I have to kill you.”

Jimin’s gaze lifted to your face, and you realised his eyes were drowning in unshed tears. When he spoke, it was hesitant and full of suffering.

“I have to kill you too.”

While your earpiece had called for Jimin’s assassination, his had called for yours. It was clear now that the Organisation wanted a battle. They wanted you and Jimin to fight to the death, and only the successor would be allowed to continue serving them till they too met their end. 

You didn’t know why the Organisation had made the decision. Was it because of last night? Was it because of your mention of running away? 

But it didn’t matter anymore, did it? The plan was over. If one of you weren’t dead in the next 28 minutes, both of you would be killed for your failure. You couldn’t wait for Iseul’s coup to run away anymore. 

It was over. 

You brought out your dagger, an unfamiliar tremor making it hard to hold it firmly. Jimin was the better fighter of the two of you, there was no doubt that it would be your body buried today. The thought of death terrified you, but somehow, dying by Jimin’s blade didn’t seem as scary. At least he would live, even if life under the Organisation was just another form of death itself. You’d gladly give your life if it meant Jimin could live on. 

But a battle is what the Organisation wanted, and just like everything else, a battle is what the Organisation had to get.

You lunged, swinging your dagger straight towards Jimin’s neck. His hand was on his own dagger in a matter of a second and, just as you expected, he deflected your attack easily with the swing of his arm. You expected him to target your armed hand while you jumped back, but instead, he went for your torso, which you dodged easily. 

The next 10 minutes were spent in a dance of dodges and attacks. Anytime your blade came close to even nicking his skin, you felt your heart beat in fear as you quickly changed the trajectory of your dagger. The sound of daggers clanging against each other reverberated around the warehouse, but the red of spilt blood never came.

Your eyebrows furrowed as another one of Jimin’s attacks failed to even scratch your skin. You didn’t understand what was taking him so long to end this. There wouldn’t be much time left to take care of the body within the Organisation's time limit, yet, his attacks were uncoordinated and weak while his dodges were reluctant. 

You went for another attack with your dagger pointed straight towards his ribcage, expecting him to dodge it easily, but Jimin angled his dagger in the opposite direction. Instead of your dagger being deflected into the space to his right, your dagger deflected to his left. You watched in horror as your dagger plunged into the side of his arm before you could pull away.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

You jerked your blade back so that it couldn’t dig any deeper into his skin. His blood dripped from the silver tip to the dusty warehouse’s ground, creating a small pool of blood. 

Jimin’s blood.

You’ve been exposed to blood and gore since you were a child and then all throughout your life, but the sight of his blood already had your stomach churning uneasily. 

Aside from a small grimace, Jimin’s expression was unreadable. No anger. No resentment. Just a slight downturn of the corner of his lips, the one he always made when he was in pain. 

Before you could yell at him, Jimin raised his blade and swung towards your shoulder. Sudden panic took over as you raised your dagger to dodge it so that his blade would deflect to the side of your shoulder. Instead, as Jimin’s dagger clanged against yours, he twisted his wrist, literally disarming himself with your blade. 

His weapon clattered to the ground not too far away from your figure, yet he made no effort to retrieve it. Only then did you realise that he hadn’t been putting effort into this fight as a whole. None of his attacks were legitimate and his dodges were just barely keeping him alive. 

Jimin was letting himself lose. 

“No.”

You grabbed his blade from the ground and shoved it into his hand, but Jimin just let it drop to the floor. A sudden burst of anger flared in your chest as you watched his attempt at giving up. 

“Why aren’t you fighting me?” 

You grabbed the dagger once again and tried to make him take it, but the dagger clattered to the ground once again. 

“Why aren’t you fighting me, Park Jimin?!” You yelled, shoving his shoulder. He didn’t even stumble from the action, instead he just stood silently, watching your anger slowly rise.

You went to shove him again, only for his hand to enclose around your wrist and pull you closer, causing you to crash into his chest. A warmth you couldn't quite explain spread all around you as his arms suddenly surrounded your form. If it was possible for a heart to be ripped into two, you were sure you could feel it happening in your chest. Jimin’s warmth was just as comforting as it was heartbreaking, and soon you felt your anger morph into sobs. Your tears started to stain his uniform, but Jimin made no attempt to push you away. 

“We both know who the winner of this fight is, so just get it over with,” you whispered against his chest, praying for it to be quick. But Jimin shook his head. 

“Last time I checked, I’m the one that’s disarmed and injured,” he whispered back. You immediately dropped your weapon and let your hand stroke his injured arm. The cut wasn’t deep enough to be anything major, and yet it felt like your own arm was ripping apart at the sight of it. 

“Please,” you begged in desperation, “there isn’t much time left.”

“You’re right.”

Jimin grabbed the abandoned dagger from the ground and placed it in your hand, enclosing his own fingers around yours so that the dagger couldn’t clatter to the floor. You watched in confusion as he sank to his knees in front of you and then sobbed as he brought the dagger closer to him until it was right next to his neck. You tried to pull away, but his firm grip on your hand wouldn’t let you. 

“I knew that they would give us these orders one day,” he began while letting his other hand squeeze your unoccupied palm gently, “Before I had to kidnap you, I wasn’t that great at following the rules, and because of that I ended up overhearing an unspoken tradition that went on in the Organisation. Usually, they made partners fight to the death after years of service so that only the best stayed in the Organisation.”

“After you became my partner I realised that I didn’t want to participate in such a tradition. So after a little snooping around, I managed to hear about one or two instances where each partner was so good that the Organisation didn’t want to lose even one of them, so they had decided not to make them kill each other. I thought I could train us to be that good, so that we wouldn’t have to go through this, but I guess I messed up somewhere.”

You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That, in the end, all the blame fell on the Organisation. That you were thankful for him and everything he’s done for you. But the words stuck in your throat as you continued to sob. 

Jimin brought the dagger closer to his neck, “I’m sorry baby, you’ll need to continue without me from now on.”

Tears continued to stream down your cheeks, “no, no, please, don’t make me do this.”

“I know it’s going to be hard, but I promise you’ll overcome it quickly,” he continued with damp eyes and a pained smile, “you just have to push this dagger forward and it’ll all be over.”

You shook your head repeatedly, unable to speak because of your closed throat. What he was asking was impossible. You could never even think of doing it. 

“It’s okay,” Jimin stopped squeezing your palm so that he could hold your hand instead, grip still strong in his other as he ensured your hand was clasped around the dagger, “you can do it. Just one push and it’s all over, I promise.”

You knew why he was so adamant about you being the one to kill him. 

‘You must eliminate your target and dispose of the body effectively.’

To successfully accomplish the task, or in other words end up not getting killed by the Organisation, one of you had to kill the other. Any other form of death wouldn’t be accepted. 

But if Jimin expected you to actually be able to go through with this, he was mistaken. You don’t think your hand could move in such a way even if you tried to command it. Jimin had been by your side for years. He’s the only one that’s genuinely ever cared for you, even taking your life before the Organisation into account. If you were being honest with yourself, you loved him. And although you would do anything for him, you couldn’t do this. No matter how much he wanted you to do it. 

Jimin must have taken your silence for acceptance because you felt his grip slowly loosen so that you could push the dagger forward. But the second he did, you pulled the dagger out of his grasp and threw it far away from you. It felt like a hot iron had been removed from your hand. 

You dropped to your knees in front of him, mimicking his position as a look of surprise took over his expression.

You knew you could never willingly kill Jimin and you knew Jimin would never willingly kill you. And ironically, that would just result in the Organisation killing you both. If the two of you were technically already dead…

Why not try something crazy?

Jimin cupped your face gently, letting his thumbs brush the tears from your cheeks. You spoke up before he could change your mind. 

“What if we ran away?” 

The question was an echo from the conversation you had earlier, only this time the chance of success was much lower. In fact, there was probably no chance at all and even Jimin knew it.

“There’s no distraction, Y/N,” he said, shaking his head, “the Organisation is focused on us now. There’s no way we can get away with it.”

“But what if we can,” you countered, “think about it. The Organisation abducted us all when we were children, in other words, young and gullible. They’ve drilled the idea into our minds that they cannot be defeated and are all-powerful ever since then so that none of us would ever dare to go against them even when we got older. But what if that’s not how it really is? What if… they're not as powerful as they say they are?”

You knew that wasn’t entirely true. The Organisation was powerful, and you’ve seen the proof of that with your own eyes. But the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. They’ve always used fear as a weapon for obedience, especially when you were children. It’s why you felt yourself shake at the mere thought of rebelling and why the thought has never even crossed your mind. Without fear, how much power did they really have?

Jimin’s gaze was focused on you as he mulled over your words. 

“We’re not going to kill each other, we both know neither of us can do it. So why not just take a chance? We’re dead anyway. Maybe this way we could actually have a life together.”

The chances of that were very low, and you knew Jimin knew that as well. But you were surprised to eventually see a slight nod in his head. 

“We have 5 minutes left,” he announced, referring to the amount of time left before the Organisation would come and finish the task that they had called for. 

He stood, pulling you along with him, but his hand didn’t leave yours even when you were standing upright beside him. 

“We’ll take our bikes and start heading North. I think I have an idea of where we should go,” he picked up both the daggers and handed you yours, “we’ll have to cut out our trackers.”

You nodded, already expecting as much. 

Jimin took your arm in his hands while you took his. The trackers were cut out and thrown to the floor in a matter of seconds, both of you hissing a bit at the slight sting of your cuts. But they weren’t deep, and that’s all that mattered. 

After ditching your earpieces as well, the two of you hastily made your way out of the warehouse to find a storm thrashing at the rocky terrain. The initially dry and dusty landscape was now damp due to the merciless rain and the roads seemed dangerously slippery. Thankfully, the weather would make it harder for the Organisation to track your motorcycle trails. 

This time, the two of you wordlessly hopped onto a single motorcycle rather than separate ones. Aside from the rain, one motorcycle would be a lot harder to track than two. You let Jimin drive, opting instead to wrap your arms around him from behind as he sped through the road at the cycle’s maximum speed. Rather than feel fazed by the speed, you could only feel comfort in Jimin’s warmth. 

“You seem to be enjoying yourself back there,” Jimin chuckled, which made you raise an eyebrow.

You chuckled along with him, “since when were you so brazen?” 

“Since the Organisation isn’t holding me back now.”

It made you feel better that you weren’t the only one harbouring some intense feelings all these years. Even though they didn’t get very intense until the last few years, it still sucked sometimes thinking that they were unrequited. But knowing that Jimin felt the same kind of made those times worth it, in a weird unexplainable way. 

Eventually, a tree here and there started to pop up until they morphed into a thick forest. At one point, you were sure you saw some of the Organisation issued motorcycles through the thicket of the forest, clearly speeding through another road in the opposite direction as the two of you. 

“We’re going back,” you realised, “we’re going back to the hotel.”

You could just barely make out the nod of Jimin’s head. The sun had fully set now, and combined with the thunderstorm it was practically impossible to see in front of you. 

It made sense to go back. The Organisation wouldn’t expect you two to be anywhere near it or near any recent mission areas considering they were too predictable. They would likely focus on the areas that were farther away from them, thinking that’s where you would be hiding. 

Thankfully your destination didn’t take too long to show up after the forest thickened. Soon enough, you were checking into the same hotel and even the same room you stayed in the other night. 

Immediately, you crashed back first onto the couch, groaning at the feeling of finally relaxing your muscles. Your day had definitely been more emotionally exhausting than physically by a long shot, which was probably why you felt so drained. Jimin gently sat next to you, adjusting your head so that it was resting comfortably in his lap. 

“We should be able to stay here and get some rest for a few hours before they find us,” Jimin said, letting his hand run through your hair delicately. 

“Then I guess that gives us enough time to come up with a plan,” you said, already racking your brain for the possibilities. You sat up and crossed your legs on the couch while facing Jimin. 

“What do you think?”

Jimin thought for a moment before speaking, “we can lay low for a while, just until they stop looking for us. Then when we get an opening, we move to the countryside.”

You shook your head.

“They’ll find us eventually, whether we live in the city or countryside. What if we completely change our identities? You know, plastic surgery, new passports– all that? Then we can even blend into a city.”

But Jimin shook his head as well, “they’d still find us. Changing identities always leaves a trail.”

There was a beat of silence as the realisation suddenly hit you. 

“Then… we’ll have to leave the country.”

The thought of leaving the country made your heart feel heavy. This was where you were born, where you were raised and became the person you were. Sure, your upbringing was pretty crappy, but nostalgia was nostalgia, wasn’t it?

Slowly, Jimin nodded his head, no doubt going over all the possible options in this situation. You’d still have to get new identities and live in the countryside even in the new country, but it was your best bet. 

“I know for sure the Organisation doesn’t have any ties in Canada,” Jimin thought out loud, absentmindedly brushing his hand against your thigh, “the country itself is huge and a lot of it hasn’t been urbanised just yet. It would be the perfect place to run away to.”

You didn’t know much about the Organisation’s reach internationally, but it didn’t surprise you that they had some control even outside the country. If Canada really was one of the countries that was outside their reach, you could easily hide there. 

There was silence after that. The two of you had been partners for so long that you already knew the rest of the plan without even having to speak it. You’d spend a few hours in the hotel room and rest until around midnight, where you’d get up and make your way to the airport. Hopefully, the Organisation wouldn’t catch up to you while you boarded and left the country for good. 

There were so many things that could go wrong. So many ways the Organisation could get to you and yet, for once you didn’t feel scared. You and Jimin were as good as dead anyway, but now there was hope for a new life. You’ve always thought of hope as a dangerous thing, but now, it’s never made you happier. 

Your hand found Jimin’s, letting yourself intertwine your fingers with his before shifting closer to him. Jimin smiled as he wrapped his arms around you the same way he had done last night. 

Being part of the Organisation since you were 9 had ensured you’ve never had any kind of romantic relationship with anyone before, to the point that just sitting here in Jimin’s arms had your heart beating out of your chest. This was all such unfamiliar territory for you. The only thing that could guide you were all the movies you’ve watched, but you were old enough to know movies weren’t a very accurate representation of real life. 

“The first time I realised that I may have feelings for you was during the Lockley mission,” Jimin said suddenly, immediately piquing your interest. You swung your legs over his and made a little show of getting comfy to encourage him to continue. 

That made Jimin chuckle.

“It had been right when Lockley had turned the tables on us and pulled a gun on you while he had taken you hostage. I remember feeling so panicked, not the kind of panic you feel when a friend is in danger, but so much worse than that. It felt like his gun was resting on my head and, for the first time in a long time, my mind went blank with fear.”

Both your hands wrapped around his as you noticed a slight tremor in them. 

You remember that mission. You and Jimin didn’t anticipate that Lockley, your target, had been expecting the two of you, and because of that he had managed to grab you and put a gun to your head before any of you knew what was happening. He had created a hostage situation so that he could buy himself enough time to get out of there before you and Jimin could kill him like the Organisation had ordered. Thankfully, Jimin had managed to save you, but not before Lockley’s gun went off and instead hit you below the ribs.

Jimin continued as his other hand rested on your leg, “then when you had gotten shot, it was like my heart stopped beating. I couldn’t even let you go when the surgeons had arrived because the thought of losing you terrified me. That’s when I knew that how I felt about you was not as simple as I thought it was.”

“Since the Lockley’s mission…” you thought, “that was almost 5 years ago.”

He’s liked you for the last 5 years and you hadn’t even noticed, probably too busy trying to hide your own feelings from him. 

“Maybe it’s my fault we’re in this situation,” he said uncharacteristically, “I didn’t hide my feelings well enough last night and now our lives are on the line.” 

Jimin has never been one to dwell on ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes,’ he always made sure that what he spoke was useful and relevant. Otherwise he was silent. It was you that often spoke your mind, broke the rules, and gave him heart attacks. He’s done everything to keep you safe, and now here he was blaming himself for what you were starting to realise was probably your fault.

“If anything, I’m probably the reason we’re in this situation,” you thought out loud, “let’s face it Jimin, I’m not exactly good enough for them to make an exception in a tradition that has been upheld for years. They were going to order us to kill each other, regardless of what happened last night.”

You just wish Jimin didn’t have to suffer for your shortcomings. He could have lived if he had killed you when the Organisation had ordered it, probably would have been sleeping in his bed back at the base right now. It was only because of you that he’d dropped everything, sacrificed his life, just to be here with you.

As if reading your thoughts, Jimin immediately brought up his hand to cup your cheek before taking a breath, “no, don’t ever blame yourself for something that isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“Even though the situation isn’t exactly ideal, I don’t regret trying to protect you. Because no matter how bad everything is right now, nothing makes me happier than being able to hold you like this after years of believing I’ll never get the chance.”

His hand felt warm against your cheek as you looked at him, his own gaze focused on your eyes. You felt the same; even though you’ve been doing everything the Organisation had ordered to keep your life, you’ve never felt more alive until today. Jimin’s touches and words, no matter how small, were electrifying and you found yourself wondering how you’ve been living without them for so many years. 

You noticed his gaze flicker down to your lips for a moment before moving back up to your eyes. The action made you heat, and probably would have been enough to make you look away in embarrassment if it wasn’t for your own gaze that was now focused on his plump lips. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” You said absentmindedly, trying to force your gaze back up to his eyes.

“Can I kiss you, baby?”

Baby

Your stomach exploded with butterflies at the nickname as your cheeks became hot. The prospect of kissing Jimin, combined with that nickname, suddenly had you panicking to the point that you couldn’t help but blurt out the first thing that came to mind. 

“You called me that before.”

Jimin’s head tilted in confusion for a moment, put off by the sudden comment. It gave you time to try, and fail, at lowering your raging heart and mind. 

“Back at the warehouse,” you explained, trying to focus on your words rather than how close his face was to yours and how foggy it was making your brain, “when you were trying to get me to kill you, you called me baby.”

Jimin studied you for a moment, gaze dropping to your slightly shaky hands still enveloping his and then back to your face, before suddenly shifting your positions. In a matter of seconds, you were straddling his lap while both his hands gently cupped your face. The position was different, it made you feel more in control of whatever was happening. 

You could feel the warmth from Jimin’s chest seep into your own at the new proximity. For as long as you could remember he’s been your warmth and comfort, but experiencing this side of him gave the two words a completely new definition. You wanted to experience more, go as far as humanly possible- but with him, only with him. 

“You’re dodging the question, Y/N,” he whispered, as if not to break the silence. 

Your faces were so close to each other that you could feel your breaths mingling. The closeness felt oddly calming, helping you focus a little better. But you didn’t need much of your brain right now anyway. You knew what you wanted. There was no more need for thinking anymore. 

“Can I–”

Before Jimin could finish, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him towards you, finally connecting your lips with his. 

A comfortable warmth burst inside your chest as Jimin immediately sunk into the kiss, letting you feel his soft and plump mouth in the process. You couldn’t describe the feelings you were experiencing. Everytime his lips glided over yours, your chest tightened with want for more. Your hands found themselves in Jimin’s hair, tugging every once in a while and subsequently earning you a pleased groan. 

One of his hands dropped to your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue moved your lips apart to let himself into your mouth. It was no question that he was the one dominating this kiss right now, but you didn’t mind at all. You were just trying not to self combust under all the new emotions you were experiencing for the first time. 

Jimin’s hand, which was now resting on your waist, continued to pull you flush against his chest.  The movement caused him to groan, and he suddenly pulled you away from him. 

“How far do you want to go tonight?” He said through laboured breaths.

It took you a second to notice the obvious want in his eyes and then another to process the fact that he had asked a question.

“As far as we can,” you said, “I want every part of you, Jimin.”

Jimin smiled before he connected with your lips once again. This time, one of your hands raised to brush your fingers through his hair. He moaned, causing his lips to disconnect with yours. Instead they found a spot near your neck, allowing him to send open mouthed kisses all over your throat.

You felt yourself being gently pushed until the soft couch connected with your back. Jimin hovered over you, continuing to mark your neck and collarbone with his lips. His torso, which was now slotted between your legs, pushed you deeper against the couch, causing you to moan. The movement had your heart rate racing once again. 

“Wait,” you said suddenly.

Jimin immediately paused, putting some space between the two of you, but the arms wrapped around his neck kept him in place. 

“I’ve never done this before.”

Sexual relationships were also strictly banned in the Organisation. And since you started at 9, it was no surprise that you were still a virgin at your age. You wouldn’t be surprised if Jimin was still one as well. 

It wasn’t that you were scared of having sex with Jimin, but it was the idea of the unknown that scared you more. You didn’t entirely know how to pleasure him, or even yourself. Knowing that you’ll never have sex, you never really bothered to research the specifics, but now you were really regretting that decision. You felt unprepared. 

Noticing the uncertainty on your face, Jimin’s expression softened, “do you want to stop?”

“No,” you answered immediately, “I just… I don’t…”

You struggled to find the words, but Jimin being Jimin didn’t need much explanation. He intertwined his fingers with yours before placing a kiss over the scar you had gotten from the Lockley incident. 

“I haven’t either,” he admitted, “but don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

That made you smile. Of course he will. Park Jimin had been by your side for as long as you could remember, been the only person in this world that had kept you safe and as happy as possible given the situation. You trusted him, more than you trusted even yourself. 

“I know,” you said, because you wanted him to know it. You wanted him to know that you trusted him and knew how much he cared about you. You wanted him to know how much you cared about him too, and how much you wanted him in your life, even if it probably wasn’t going to be a very long one, “I love you.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have said the big ‘I love you’ right before having sex, you don’t recall any romantic movie scenes where that had happened. Maybe it was shallow or too casual. 

But the big smile that suddenly overtook Jimin’s face made you happy that you did. He gave you a few light kisses on your lips before he whispered it back against your ear.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Hearing him say it back affected you a lot more than you had thought it would. Despite dreaming about a moment like this for years, nothing could come close to the real feeling of Park Jimin telling you he loved you right after telling him the same. You imagine this is what being high feels like, mind hazy on satisfaction. 

You let Jimin kiss you again, this one much more passionate than the last. When he pulled away from you, his expression showed nothing but care and love. 

“Let me show you how much I love you baby.”

This time you didn’t overthink.

This time you gave yourself to him completely, all night. 

It was still dark when Jimin woke you up, pointing out a few shady looking people from your window. It didn’t take long for you to understand that your time at the hotel was up. 

You both needed to get moving. 

After making sure you weren’t being followed, you and Jimin hopped onto your motorcycle and continued speeding down the secluded highway. You’d only managed to get a few hours of sleep before Jimin had woken you up, meaning the sun was probably going to rise in an hour or two. It wouldn’t do much to change the gloomy atmosphere considering it was still raining, but you’ve never been in a better mood until today. 

Jimin also seemed to be in a good mood, pointing out cool scenery and animals through the dark as you travelled through vast fields of farmland. It didn’t even feel like you both were trying to run away from inevitable death. It just felt like any other day, following through on one of your missions.

About an hour or two later, Jimin was pulling into the airport, bringing the motorcycle to a stop right in front of the passenger pick-up and drop-off area. 

“So what’s our point of entrance?” You thought out loud while scanning your surroundings. 

You obviously couldn’t just waltz through security with your weapons and no passport and expect not to be thrown into jail in record time. There needed to be another way. 

Jimin pointed his head to the right, guiding you to follow his line of sight. At the far end, you could see the air stewards and pilots laughing and talking with each other as they walked into the airport with their small hand carries. 

“It would definitely get us past security,” you agreed, picking up on what he was implying.

The two of you abandoned the motorcycle and made your way into the airport. You needed to find the group of air stewards and pilots that were flying to Canada so you could get past security. After that, it should be easy to get onto the plane.

You and Jimin scanned the board of flights, praying there was a flight to Canada happening soon. To your relief, the earliest flight was departing in about half an hour. Not a lot of time, but you could definitely make it work. 

Before you could start looking for a group of stewards attending that flight, a man caught your eye. He was just standing there, looking around the place as if he were some kind of security guard. But he wasn’t dressed as such, rather he was wearing a black hoodie and jeans–

Your eyes furrowed as you noticed his shoes. They were standard issue shoes from the Organisation, no doubt about it. And with how vigilant the man was being, you were betting that he had been put on high alert, likely searching for the two of you. 

“Nine o’clock, in the black hoodie,” you whispered to Jimin, who didn’t look right away. 

His eyes flickered to the man and then back to you, “the group of stewards next to the security entrance match our description.”

You nodded keeping a close eye on the man, who was still oblivious to the two of you thanks to the crowd surrounding you both. 

“We meet up in the family bathroom after clearing security,” you said, causing Jimin to nod. 

Without any other words the two of you split up, Jimin off to seize his steward while you were off to seize yours. It was normal for you to follow unsaid commands like that, you could read each other so easily after all. What wasn’t normal was the small squeeze Jimin gave your hand before you split, one that had you battling a smile and heated cheeks. 

It didn’t take you long to find the group Jimin had hinted at, but it did take a while to find a stewardess similar to your height and appearance. The clock in the back of your mind was counting down the time left until the plane’s departure. You had to get on that plane in time, or you could kiss any chance of freedom goodbye. 

27:32 minutes remaining.

You walked up to the steward, explaining the first problem you could think of off the top of your head. It was easy getting her to come with you into the bathroom, and then even easier to knock her out in one of the stalls without a sound. The Organisation had taught you how to manipulate to the point that it was practically second nature to you. 

You quickly put on her uniform while checking for her passport and boarding ticket. Unfortunately you were going to have to leave behind your gun and daggers, which made you feel more naked than ever. But you didn’t have much other choice at this point. 

With your head held high, you walked out of the bathroom in the stewardess uniform and hand carry dragging against the floor. You didn’t see Jimin anywhere yet, but you had to get past security and into the bathroom first before you could start worrying about him. 

You greeted the security guard with a smile as you handed him your passport and boarding ticket. He took your baggage and placed it on a conveyor belt while motioning for you to go through the metal detector. The detector stayed silent as you walked through confidently.

It was the bag that caused a sound to erupt from the machine. 

The security guard’s eyebrows furrowed as he focused on the screen that was showing the scan of your luggage. Unfortunately the screen was turned the other way so you couldn’t see what he was picking up on.

“Are you sure you’ve declared everything ma’am?” He asked sternly, pulling the carry on from out of the machine and unzipping it. 

Crap… was the stewardess you picked a drug smuggler? She didn’t seem like one to you, but if he’s picking up on drugs then that’ll be an issue. How stupid could she be to openly smuggle drugs in her luggage? She was a stewardess, didn’t she know security scanned baggage?

You readied yourself to get out of the situation, but then paused as he flipped the luggage open. 

Oh god…

Staring back at you and the security guard was a neon pink adult toy sitting right at the top of a bunch of neatly folded clothes. 

The security guard stuttered as he quickly zipped the carry on shut while you tried your hardest not to laugh. He practically threw the hand carry back at you, looking anywhere but your face. 

“Enjoy your flight ma’am,” he choked out. His eyes suddenly widened, as if realising the double meaning behind that sentence before scrambling to redeem himself, “that’s not– I-I mean-”

You couldn’t help the reply that came out of your mouth, “Thank you, I will indeed enjoy my flight.”

You laughed internally as you watched the security guard’s face turn bright red, before walking off towards the bathroom. 

Poor guy. That was hilarious, though. 

But your smile was quick to vanish when you noticed the guy in a black hoodie from earlier standing in the same line you had been just a moment before. This time, his gaze was fixed solely on you. 

They found you.

Your hands were quick to find the lock of the family bathroom, twisting it quickly before you were scanning the small space. Jimin was already there, sitting atop the closed toilet patiently while wearing a men’s steward uniform. At your arrival he stood immediately. 

You were surprised when he greeted you with a firm kiss to your lips. 

Man could you get used to this. 

“Nice dildo,” Jimin snickered, earning him a roll of your eyes. 

“I guess the plane ride can get boring for some.”

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. The fact that it was caught on the machine meant that it was some kind of automated toy too, which for some reason made it funnier. 

When your laughs died out, you were the first to break the mood, “the man we saw earlier spotted me. He’s in line for security right now.”

“Okay, then we need to be quick,” Jimin nodded, demeanor becoming serious,“we obviously won’t be able to get on the plane as stewards. Our only point of entrance is the cargo compartment that they have for pets since it’s the only one on an airplane that’s pressurised and ventilated.”

“We can try getting there through the vents,” you suggested.

In the past, the two of you participated in a mission that required you to memorise the layout of the airport’s vents, but that was a long time ago. Your memory of the vents couldn’t be as accurate now, not to mention the airport was always going through construction, so you didn’t even know if the vents would still be the same as before. 

Jimin explained that much to you again. 

“There should be a back entrance for the workers that load the baggage into the plane,” he said, “we’ll have to find it and–”

A sudden bang from outside the bathroom door caused you both to flinch. Your eyes immediately went to the door, while your hand instinctively grabbed for your dagger before realising it wasn’t there anymore. 

“This is airport security. Open the door or we’ll be forced to use violence,” a man’s voice yelled. 

It was safe to say that was not airport security, and instead the Organisation forcing you out of the bathroom. In fact, you’d bet some heavy money on that guy in the black hoodie from earlier being the one standing outside the door right now. 

“Well, vents it is,” you announced, rummaging through the stewardess’s hand carry until you managed to find a metal hair curler. You gave it to Jimin, who grabbed it quickly and began breaking the vent cover. 

“You have 20 seconds before we open this door,” he said, but you could already see the door knob wiggling. They were no doubt placing an explosive and would set it off the moment they were done. 

In a matter of seconds, Jimin had managed to break off the vent cover with the hair curler and hoist you into the vent. The sound of the door erupting reverberated around the room just as Jimin managed to hoist himself up. Splinters from the door flew everywhere, landing near even you, who was already well within the metal labyrinth. You grabbed Jimin’s arm and helped him up before making your way deeper into the vents. 

Your mind struggled to remember the layout of the airport’s vents. Every turn you took was more of a guess than a certainty, but Jimin didn’t correct you when you made a decision so your choices couldn’t have been that bad. 

The sounds of the Organisation’s men following you through the vents could be heard a few metres back. You needed to hurry if you wanted to get away from them and if you wanted to make it on time to the airplane. 

10:01 minutes remaining.

You paused when the vents split into two opposite directions, completely unsure of which direction led to where. You could swear that this split wasn’t even in the outline you studied years ago. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know the directions, would you?” You asked Jimin, while sounds of the Organisation’s men got closer and closer. 

Jimin paused, no doubt crouched uncomfortably as he waited behind you. You hated how if the men caught up to you, it would be Jimin that would have to face them first. You could even bet that’s why Jimin stayed behind you in the first place. That protective bastard.

“I don’t think this was part of the outline,” he said after racking his brain for the answer. 

Your focus shifted behind you to look at Jimin, but instead you noticed the Organisation’s men already inching a few metres away towards you two. They’d catch up to you guys in no time. 

You shifted your focus back to the situation in front of you. It was really a 50/50 chance at this point, so you quickly did eenie meenie miny moe in your head and prayed the direction you chose wouldn’t land you right into the hands of the Organisation. Wordlessly, Jimin followed behind. 

A few more minutes of uncomfortable crawling led you to a dip in the vent, almost like a slide. You slid down it without hesitation, completely aware that the Organisation’s men were now dangerously close to Jimin. 

What you didn’t expect, was for the vent to end, causing you to slam into the vent cover. You awkwardly brough your feet in front of you, and slammed them against it. It clattered to the seemingly concrete ground, allowing you to finally squeeze out of the cramped vent. 

05:57 minutes remaining.

The outside’s breeze flowed through your hair as you tried to make out the layout in front of you through the darkness of dawn, a crack of the sun that was now visible helping a bit. A few airplanes stood side by side in a line, while others were already speeding down the runway into the air. 

You heard Jimin jump out of the vent, but before you could turn towards him, you felt him pull you down to the ground. Not a second later, three bullets came flying towards where you had been standing moments ago. 

The both of you turned around to see the Organisation’s men jumping out of the vents, eyes trained on you. You were already mentally cursing at the guns in their hands. 

“Let’s go,” you said, grabbing Jimin’s arm and dragging him behind you. 

You were lucky that it was dark, which messed up the aim of a lot of the shots being sent towards you both. What you needed was to find the airplane leaving in less than 5 minutes. But the more you scanned the area, the more you were losing hope. 

“There,” Jimin said suddenly, pointing towards your left.

The plane was hidden behind one of the watchtowers. It seemed that all the passengers had boarded, and the only thing it was waiting for was the loading of the luggage. You could see the workers still throwing large cargo into the cargo compartment quickly. You just needed to reach that point, then getting past the workers would take no time. 

You and Jimin continued to run towards it. Almost there, almost there…

“Wait,” you stopped suddenly, realising something. Jimin’s brows furrowed as he paused next to you.

“Wha-”

“The men,” you said, looking behind you. They weren’t shooting anymore, instead they were just standing there watching the two of you, “why are they just standing there?”

You were well within range of their weapons. Why wouldn’t they take a shot when they had the cha–

“Watch out!” Jimin suddenly yelled. 

You just barely managed to dodge the giant truck that had been hurtling towards you at full speed. With its headlights off, you didn’t even notice it had been coming towards you until it would have been too late. 

The truck screeched to a stop, allowing several more men and women from the Organisation to jump out and surround you. You were severely outnumbered, with no weapons and now less than 3 minutes to get on a plane that stood at least 120 metres away from you. 

“We just need to get to the plane,” Jimin said, analysing the 17 armed individuals currently surrounding you both, “once we’re in the plane, they can’t get us. We’ll need to make a run for it.”

02:11 minutes remaining.

Jimin was right, there was no time to take your chances with the individuals surrounding you. You could already see the workers throwing in the last of the baggage and getting ready to close the cargo entrance. If you didn’t make it, it was over. 

You quickly lunged at one of the men, clearly taking him off guard. You grabbed his gun and managed to slam its butt into his face, causing him to crumple to the floor. One look at the gun in Jimin’s hand had you both sprinting towards the airplane. 

01:37 minutes remaining.

Every few seconds, you had to turn back and send a few bullets flying towards the group, which was now down to 15. It gave you and Jimin a chance to run without being shot at. 

01:07 minutes remaining.

A worker threw the last bag into the cargo hold and motioned for another to begin closing the compartment. You and Jimin were only a few metres away, sprinting with as much energy as you could. You’d be able to make it within a minute–

A bullet suddenly ripped into your calf, causing you to stumble and almost faceplant right into the concrete. Pain erupted in your leg as you tried to get back onto your feet.

“Y/N!” Jimin shouted, crouching down next to you immediately. 

He brought up his gun and sent a bunch of bullets towards the group, three of which actually hit their target. The Organisation’s members immediately fell backwards, waiting for a safe moment to shoot. 

00:34 minutes remaining.

You could see the compartment closing as the workers made their way back into the baggage carts and began driving away. 30 seconds… You only had 30 seconds to make it before your opening would close forever. 

“Y/N, I know it hurts,” Jimin said, and you could pick up on the hint of desperation in his voice, “but we need to run for it. Just 20 seconds, okay? You just need to hold out for 20 seconds.”

You nodded, clenching your teeth as Jimin helped you up while sending more shots towards the Organisation’s people. 

10 seconds remaining.

“Okay, now!” He signalled. 

The two of you continued to sprint towards the now closing airplane compartment, Jimin’s arm half dragging you in the process. Your leg wasn’t completely useless considering you were just barely able to match his speed, but the pain almost had you blacking out midrun. 

7 seconds remaining.

Jimin’s grip on your arm tightened as he sped up.

“Almost there,” he assured, “almost there.”

5 seconds remaining.

You wanted to cry in relief when you finally came to a stop in front of the compartment door. The large door was closing upwards and was already halfway closed. That caused Jimin to hurriedly lift you up so that you could slip into the little opening between the closing door and the side of the plane. 

The only issue was that by the time you were inside, the opening was much too small for Jimin to slip through. 

3 seconds remaining.

“Jimin!”

You couldn’t see him anymore, the sides of the door had closed too much. How was he going to get in?

2 seconds remaining.

No, no, no.

“Jimin!” You shouted again, like it was going to do anything. 

1 second remaining.

A grunt caused your gaze to shift upwards, and you noticed Jimin slipping through the small opening between the top of the door and the plane’s side. For a terrifying moment, you thought the closing door was going to crush him, but at the last second he managed to slip through without losing his head. 

The second his feet connected with the floor, you threw your arms around him, almost sobbing at the fact that he was alive and you weren’t going to have to travel to Canada without him.

Jimin chuckled at your reaction, but with how tight his hold was, you were sure he wasn’t as nonchalant as he was making himself out to be. 

“Come on,” he said softly, refusing to let you go, “let’s go to the ventilated compartment before the plane takes off.”

You nodded as he helped your limping form towards the other side of the compartment. With the initial shock wearing off, your eyes widened at the realisation. 

“We did it…” You said incredulously. 

Jimin gave you a smile as he got the door open and ushered you inside before making sure it was properly locked. 

“Holy crap, we actually did it, Jimin. We bested the Organisation.”

The realisation didn’t feel real, like at any moment you’d wake up back in the hotel room and realise this was all a dream. The Organisation that you’ve feared ever since you knew about its existence would now be a distant memory. You and Jimin could finally live your lives based on your own terms, without the fear of death constantly looming over your heads. It was almost daunting thinking about the amount of freedom you now had. 

Jimin sat you down next to one of the cages, which were largely empty besides one sleeping dog nestled in the corner. Moving your pant aside, he began examining your bullet wound. 

“I’ve been through worse, I’ll be fine,” you assured, but he continued anyway.

Gently, he unravelled the mini scarf wrapped around your neck as part of the stewardess uniform and began wrapping it around your wounded calf. You flinched in pain, causing him to stroke your thigh in comfort. 

“What do you want to do now?” He asked, continuing to wrap your wound gently while you clenched your teeth. 

“What do you mean?”

He raised an eyebrow in amusement, “we’re about to go to Canada and live the rest of our lives there. Surely you have some plans.”

You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t even think we’d make it this far, much less have time to plan out what we’ll do in Canada.”

The plane suddenly lurched, indicating the beginning of its take off. Jimin finished tying the scarf and then began to apply pressure, causing you to whine in pain. 

“I want a small house,” you blurted out, piquing Jimin’s interest.

“Small?” He asked, to which you nodded, “I would have thought that after our small rooms at the Organisation, you would have wanted something big?”

You shook your head. Sure, the Organisation’s small bedrooms had driven you crazy at some points, but a large house was just as daunting. Big houses reminded you of your life before the Organisation, and although it wasn’t terrible, it made you feel cold and unsettled. And you told Jimin just that. 

He smiled, continuing to hold pressure against your leg, “then a small house you will get.”

“What about you? What do you want once we reach there?” You asked, genuinely curious about his answer. Jimin wasn’t a very materialistic person. At least you watched an unhealthy amount of movies and made a hobby out of talking his ears off. But aside from training, you don’t think you’ve ever witnessed him doing much else. 

“Well that’s easy. All I want is you.”

You rolled your eyes, “okay, Romeo. Serious answer please?”

The pressure on your wound suddenly lifted, allowing you to breathe out a sigh of relief, as Jimin checked for bleeding. When he seemed satisfied by the lack thereof, his gaze held yours, shifting to a more serious expression. 

“As an orphan, I’ve never stayed in a place comfortable enough to call it home,” he said, “and then when the Organisation kidnapped me, I knew I could kiss any hopes of comfort goodbye.”

“But then I met you. You were lively and intelligent, with a spirit as vivacious as a cool breeze. And though they tried their best, the Organisation couldn’t entirely kill that fire inside you. I was doomed the second you decided to give me the time of day. You quickly became my comfort, my home. So yes, all I really want is you.”

“Since when did you become so chatty, Park Jimin?” You said, trying to distract him from the fact that you were sure your face was red. 

But Jimin just gave you a lopsided grin, “ I have to make up for all the times you talked my ear off, don’t I?”

“Hey! I thought you liked listening to my rambling,” you protested.

Jimin stood up suddenly, walking towards you before kneeling down next to your seated form. His hand cupped your face gently as a slight chuckle escaped his lips. 

“I’m just kidding baby, of course I like your rambling,” he said softly, “I would listen to your voice all day if I could.”

He brought you closer for a chaste kiss before pulling back and giving you a teasing smile. How you ended up with a man like him you’ll never know. But if the Organisation hasn’t killed you, you know he probably will with his sweet words and even sweeter actions. 

His proximity had your whole body feeling warm and fuzzy, especially your hands. It wasn’t until you noticed your hands turning hot when you realised that they weren’t heating as a response to Jimin. Confused, your gaze dropped to where your hands were resting on the floor, Jimin doing the same when he noticed your sudden change in expression. 

Your eyes widened.

Dark red liquid enveloped your hands as it pooled in the centre of the small compartment. Jimin’s gaze snapped to your leg, but it had long since stopped bleeding. 

“What the hell-” you said, following the trail of blood to the corner of the cages. 

Jimin stood, slowly making his way to the source of the trail. The dog from earlier was still soundly asleep in its cage, completely unaware of your presence. Or at least, that’s what the two of you had thought. 

As Jimin inched closer, he was starting to realise that the blood was actually seeping from under its cage and pooling into the centre of the compartment. He crouched down with furrowed eyebrows, wondering how the dog could be sleeping through all this. But the answer came to him quickly as he noticed the eerie stillness of the creature.

He wasn’t sleeping. 

He was dead.

“Jimin?” Your distressed voice called from behind him. 

“The dog is–”

Jimin froze as he stood and turned around, taking in the terrifying scene in front of him. A man almost double your size had pushed a dagger dangerously close to your throat as his other arm wrapped around you, ensuring you couldn’t move.  

‘Behind you!’ his mind screamed at him. He knew this move, had learned it multiple times before they had even taught him how to write. But he knew he was too late when he felt the press of a single cool blade against his neck. The owner of said blade chuckled from behind him. 

You watched in panic as the man pressed his dagger more firmly against Jimin’s throat, enough to draw a single drop of blood. 

“Well, haven’t you both been a surprisingly significant inconvenience today?” A deep voice rang. 

Your gaze shifted to the other corner of the room, taking in the entrance of another man. It didn’t take long for you to recognise his tall figure, rugged features, and uniquely marked pistol hanging from his hand. 

The Leader.

His sharp gaze scanned over you and Jimin with contempt as he slowly made his way towards the centre of the room. You grimaced when he stepped right into the pool of blood like it was nothing but water. 

“You were given direct orders,” he continued, “yet they were disobeyed, despite your pledge of loyalty to the Organisation.”

“Were you not aware of the consequences?” 

A silence ensued in the compartment, you nor Jimin willing to provide him with an answer. He didn’t seem to appreciate that. 

He flicked his head towards Jimin, and you only had a second to realise the implication of that action.

The man standing behind Jimin suddenly plunged his dagger into him, right below his rib cage, to the point that you could see the tip of the dagger. 

“No!” You screamed, trying to run to him but the man behind you held onto you firmly. Jimin groaned in pain, falling to his knees with a hand pressed against the bleeding wound. The man behind him no longer needed to restrain him, opting instead to lean against the wall. 

You didn’t bother to hide the tears that started running down your cheeks as you watched Jimin grimace in pain. It felt like the dagger had stabbed you instead because you could’ve sworn pain erupted under your ribcage as well. 

“I asked, were you not aware of the consequences?” The Leader asked again. 

It made you glare, “since when do you care about what we are and are not aware of?”

But the Leader ignored you as he stepped right in front of Jimin, gaze focused solely on him. He lowered himself into a kneeling position and grabbed Jimin’s chin, forcing him to gaze upwards. The look of pain on Jimin’s face made you sob. 

“Yes, I did know,” he said, voice unwavering despite the evident grimace on his face.

“So you both directly disobeyed orders from the Organisation? You admit to being traitors to the most powerful organisation in the world?”

“Spare her,” Jimin said suddenly, as if he’d been holding it in the entire time, “do what you want with me, but please let her go.”

“No!” Like hell you were going to let him take the fall for this, “I forced him to do it. He isn’t a traitor!”

“Shut her up,” the Leader commanded. 

You felt pain shoot up your leg as the man behind you dug his heel into your bullet wound. Your knees collapsed to the ground as you tried to muffle your cry of pain. 

The Leader scanned Jimin once again, who was starting to look a little dazed with all the blood he'd lost. He wasn’t going to last much longer. 

“I’m disappointed in you, Park Jimin,” he sighed, “I had great plans for you. You could’ve married my daughter, become the leader after me. But now you’ve made yourself a traitor, and my daughter is dead.”

Guilt spread through your chest at the news of his daughter’s death. She was the one that could’ve stopped him and his organisation, but now she was no more. No doubt killed at the hands of her own father. You could see a hint of guilt in Jimin’s expression as well. 

“I suppose I should thank you for aiding in exposing my daughter for the traitor she was,” the Leader continued, “but we both know the Organisation does not work like that.”

The Leader’s hand went to cup Jimin’s neck, who was now barely keeping his eyes open. 

“There are no places for traitors in the Organisation,” the Leader whispered. 

Jimin’s dazed, but heavy gaze fell on you, who was doing a poor job at keeping the tears streaming down your face at bay. For the first time in a long time you had trouble understanding what he was trying to say. Goodbye? I’m sorry? I love you? For a moment, you were sent back to when you were 9 again, staring into the eyes of the 12 year old boy who’s expression held a whirlpool of emotions and pleas as he dragged you away from your old life. 

Then a dagger sprang from the Leader’s wrist and plunged into Jimin’s neck, causing another scream to rip out of your hoarse throat. This time, Jimin went limp in a matter of seconds, body dropping to the ground as his lifeless eyes stared aimlessly in front of him. 

Your sobs filled the compartment’s silence as the Leader paused. He deserved so much better than this. He was so kind and intelligent and talented. He could have done so much, achieved so much if he had only been given the chance. If the Organisation hadn’t gotten to him and made his life a living hell. 

The Leader turned to you, but you were no longer paying him any attention. Your eyes couldn’t rip away from the nightmare standing in front of you. Not even 10 minutes ago you had been hoping that you weren’t living some kind of dream, but now you’d do anything to wake up back at that hotel. If only you had forced Jimin to kill you at the warehouse. If only you had pushed him away that night in the hotel. If only, if only, if only.

Then Jimin wouldn’t have suffered so much. He could have been back at the base, training for another mission, alive and well. It should’ve been you. It should’ve only been you.

You could make out the Leader making his way towards you before kneeling and forcing your chin to face him. But it didn’t matter, all you could see was Jimin’s lifeless body and it would be the only thing you’d see until the Leader finally decided to end your suffering. 

“It’s disappointing watching you in this position considering how hard we worked to get you back from your mother,” he said while shaking his head. 

That made your eyebrows furrow momentarily. What did he mean by back from your mother?

Noticing this confusion, the Leader continued, “before you were born, the Organisation had decided to experiment with a new way of recruiting members. Instead of kidnapping children, we decided to try breeding them and then training them as soon as possible. Of course, we had to test this new approach first.”

“So we bred you, the daughter of the strongest assassins in the Organisation at the time. Unfortunately, your mother seemed to grow an attachment to you and ended up stealing you away from us. It was impressive how she managed to hide you from us for 9 years. 

“But those 9 years were wasted. During them, you could have trained to become the Organisation’s best assassin. You could have been our most powerful tool.”

The Leader looked back at Jimin, but you couldn’t find it in you to follow his gaze. The image of his lifeless body had been burned into your mind, looking at him just felt like the hot iron was pressing back into your brain once again. 

“Both of you could have.”

There might have been a time when the revelation of your history might have shocked you. When learning that your mother had betrayed the Organisation for you might have willed you to look back and connect the dots. But now your mind felt numb. You honestly couldn’t care less if your mother had picked you up from a garbage can. Jimin was gone and you were only running on borrowed time. 

“Tragic how the ones destined for greatness always fall the hardest,” he continued.

The Leader’s hand followed up your shoulder until he was cupping your neck. His gaze was the gaze of death, and you focused on it until you no longer could. You closed your eyes, waiting for the final blow. 

It’s funny how in the face of death your life didn’t flash before your eyes, nor did you cry hysterically or beg for your life. Instead, the voice of your mother awoke from its slumber in your mind, asking a question that you hadn’t been asked in a long time. 

So, what is the moral of the story?

For years you had racked your small brain, trying to find an answer to the question that had seemed so significant and complex to you. It was almost insulting how quickly the answer came to you now. It couldn’t have been more clear. 

In the story, that stupid girl had gone her whole life flaunting her grades, her intelligence, and her beauty in the faces of everyone around her. She ensured that anyone, whether friend or stranger, knew about her superiority and magnificence, yet not once did she stop to ponder about how against her that would make others. How willing people could be to destroy her out of jealousy, or how willing people could be to steal what she had and keep it for themself.

Not once did she stop and wonder how she could protect herself in the case of an attack. 

She had built the cage that was supposed to protect her with glass, and when the big bad wolf had come for her head, she might as well have handed it over to him on a silver platter. 

All your life, you had thought that the metal cage your mother had built around you was to keep you contained, but really it had been made to keep the Organisation out. Once the Organisation had gotten you, you didn’t bother building another. That’s what made you and the girl from the story the same. 

You both didn’t bother to prepare, instead you were stupidly content with your glass cages. 

But as you felt the Leader’s grip tighten on your neck, you couldn’t help but think you were tired of cages. You’d suffered within the confines of your mother’s, and then the Organisation’s. Your first taste of freedom had been Jimin, but now he was gone and had taken your freedom with him. 

“There are no places for failures in the Organisation,” the Leader whispered. 

And when the dagger plunged into your neck, a sigh of relief almost escaped your lips. 

You were finally free.

[bloody-bee-tea]

June of (minimal) Doom 2024 Day 10 - Can you hear me?

Suguru is on his way to Satoru’s apartment, a bag of take out food dangling from his hand. He hasn’t seen Satoru in almost three days, which isn’t technically that long, but given their usually unhealthily co-dependent relationship it feels like ages and Suguru’s skin is almost itching with the need to hurry it up even more, just so he can get to Satoru faster.

Maybe Shoko is on to something when she says there’s something seriously wrong with them, Suguru thinks, but it’s not as if either he or Satoru care about it, so it’s all fine.

And now that he thought about it, Suguru does walk a bit faster, the need to see Satoru too strong to keep to his leisurely pace and with every step he takes he gets more excited.

They don’t have much planned for today, just a movie and dinner, because exam season has kicked both their asses in very different ways and so they didn’t have the time to do this before but now they are both done and can go back to their regular routine, meaning they’ll get to see each other again daily.

It’s something Suguru was looking forward to so much that it feels as if it’s the only thing that carried him through all his exams.

Suguru is just debating sending Satoru a text, letting him know that he’s almost there, when his phone rings with Satoru’s signature ringtone.

It’s an obnoxious cover of one of the Digimon theme songs that Satoru set for himself ages ago and somehow Suguru has never gotten around to changing it and he doubts that he ever will.

He’s grown fond of it, strangely enough, and so he picks up the call with a smile already fixed on his face.

“Yo, Satoru, what’s up?” he greets him with, only to be met by laboured breathing.

“Suguru?” Satoru whispers before Suguru can ask what’s going on. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah. What’s going on, Satoru, why are you whispering?” Suguru wants to know and there’s a moment of silence that somehow makes Suguru tense.

“Someone broke into my apartment,” Satoru finally manages to say and immediately Suguru goes cold all over.

“What? Call the police, Satoru, not me!” he rushes out, having half a mind to simply hang up on Satoru so he can do just that, but Satoru stops him.

“I did, I’m not completely stupid,” he hisses out and even with his voice as quiet as he is, Suguru knows he’s pouting. “I just called you after, cause I know you’re on your way.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Suguru confirms, even though he has already started to run, so he’ll probably make it in three. Two if he’s lucky.

“No, don’t come, are you crazy? I saw a knife, it’s not safe!” Satoru rushes out and Suguru does not want to imagine what should happen should the intruder find Satoru.

“Where are you?” he asks, tries to keep his voice and breathing even enough to fool Satoru.

“Hiding in the closet, like some cliché heroine,” Satoru mutters and then falls quiet again, which only makes worry spurn in Suguru’s stomach.

“Are you safe?” Suguru wants to know and Satoru huffs.

“Don’t know. As long as he doesn’t find me, probably. But I think he’s looking for me and not some valuables, so who knows.”

“Fuck,” Suguru hisses and even though this is not the first assassin that was sent after Satoru because of his family, it never gets easier to bear.

So far Satoru has gotten lucky because no on managed to lay a hand on him yet, but having someone in his apartment right now, probably with the explicit purpose of killing him is definitely the closest someone has gotten.

“I’ll be fine until the police—” Satoru starts to say but then there’s a bang and a hissed “Fuck” before a new voice says “Found you, pretty boy!”

Suguru doesn’t even hesitate, he breaks out into a full blown sprint, the bag with their food dropped somewhere, and he doesn’t bother to pocket his phone either, he keeps it pressed to his ear in case he can hear what’s going on.

But there’s only some noise on the other end, probably from Satoru and the intruder struggling and Suguru pushes himself that much more, running as fast as he never did before.

He doesn’t stop to think once he reaches Satoru’s house, he simply bursts through the door and practically flies up the stairs until he reaches Satoru’s apartment.

The door is ajar, which serves Suguru just fine, because he bursts in, immediately making his way to the bedroom where Satoru said he was hiding. Suguru throws his phone onto the couch as he passes it and rushes towards where he now can hear the sounds of struggling.

It takes him not even a second to take the situation in, Satoru pressed against the wall, barely able to hold off the knife the intruder is aiming at his throat, and then Suguru is already slamming into the guy attacking Satoru.

The force of the impact throws the intruder into the wall, where he slumps, probably caught off guard, and while Suguru reaches out for Satoru to push him behind himself, he isn’t so stupid to take his eyes off the intruder.

If he’s really an assassin then it wouldn’t to do underestimate him after all.

“Are you hurt?” Suguru asks, making sure that Satoru stays behind him and as far away from the intruder as he can while also positioning himself in a way that will make it hard for the intruder to flee.

Satoru said he already called the police, they shouldn’t be much farther behind Suguru if that is the case.

“No, Suguru,” Satoru whispers and briefly fists his hand into Suguru’s shirt. “You shouldn’t have come," he then adds as if there was ever a chance in hell that Suguru would just leave him to his own devices when someone was trying to kill him.

“Tough luck,” Suguru gives back, and he falls into the familiar stance right before a fight when he sees the intruder moving.

Suguru might not be an assassin but he is the holder of several national and international championships in at least four different fighting styles, so he’s definitely not going down without a fight.

The intruder seems to realise that with one look, because he matches Suguru in his stance and his speed when he launches himself at Suguru is almost surprising.

The adrenaline is on Suguru’s side though, so he easily parries the attack and then they are off. Fists and legs are flying faster than Suguru can consciously comprehend and he just relies on his instincts. Suguru manages to hold the intruder off and while it’s clear that he’s good, it’s also clear that he isn’t used to fighting hand to hand like this, probably a side effect of being an assassin.

Suguru is confident in his ability to fend him off and keep him occupied until the police arrives and just as he’s thinking it, two officers barge into the bedroom.

“Freeze!” one of them yells and Suguru immediately falls back, getting back to Satoru to get out of the officers’ way.

“That’s the intruder!” Satoru yells out and points at the would-be assassin and immediately two guns are pointed on him, leaving him with no choice but to raise his hands in defeat.

Suguru still doesn’t trust it, keeping a vigilant eye on the intruder, but to his surprise he comes easily, letting himself be cuffed with almost no struggle at all and just like that, it’s over.

“Fucking hell,” Suguru whispers out, finally deflating and a second later Satoru is almost crushing him in a hug.

“Are you hurt? Suguru, are you hurt?” he frantically asks, and only relaxes when Suguru shakes his head.

“No, I’m not. Are you? Did he manage to get you with the knife?” he asks in return, pushing Satoru away so he can tilt his head back and inspect his throat.

There’s a shallow cut on there, letting Suguru know just how close he came to losing Satoru, but other than that he seems fine.

“I’m good,” Satoru gives back and it feels as if time stands still when Satoru’s eyes find his.

“Thank the gods,” Suguru breathes out and rests their foreheads together, simply breathing and relishing the fact that Satoru is safe and sound and still right here.

“Excuse me,” one of the officers interrupts them and Satoru and Suguru spring apart as if they were caught doing something forbidden.

They don’t get a moment to themselves after that for almost two hours; they are interrogated and checked out by the paramedics that were called and it’s only after they both gave their statements several times to what feels like several different people that they are being left alone.

They are supposed to come into the station tomorrow, for what Suguru assumes are going to be more questions and they both had to give their contact information in case questions popped up even sooner than that, but for now, they are the only two people left in the apartment.

It’s eerily quiet for a moment before Satoru turns towards Suguru.

“We’re going to your place,” he decides and Suguru immediately nods, because it’s not as if he wants to spend any more time in this apartment right now, either.

“Pack what you need, you’re going to stay for a while,” Suguru says, and accompanies Satoru into the bedroom.

It’s highly unlikely that there is someone else in the apartment, not with how thoroughly the police searched the place up and down, but Suguru doesn’t feel right, letting Satoru out of his sight and he probably won’t for a while.

Shoko is going to absolutely love this, he wryly thinks and makes a mental note to call her soon. She’s going to be furious if she has to find out about this through the paper or something.

“All done,” Satoru suddenly says, apparently having packed while Suguru was lost in thought and Suguru doesn’t think too much about it when he reaches out to take Satoru’s hand in his.

“Then let’s go home,” he decides and Satoru squeezes his hand, following along without a comment.

It’s unnerving, the way Satoru stays quiet all the way to Suguru’s apartment but Suguru decides to only bring it up once they are inside. The day has been harrowing enough, they don’t need to have this conversation out in the open.

“What’s going on?” Suguru asks once Satoru is safely inside his apartment, seated on the couch and a cup of hot cocoa in his hands.

“You came for me,” Satoru says, looking up at Suguru with such a look of confusion that it makes Suguru frown immediately.

“Of course I did,” he gives back, because it’s not as if he ever even thought of not coming for Satoru.

“Why? You could have gotten hurt,” Satoru breathes out and now the shaking sets in.

Suguru has been waiting for that for a while, if he’s being honest but it seems Satoru only now relaxed enough to really feel the aftereffects.

“So could you,” Suguru gives back and sits down next to Satoru, carefully taking the cup out of his hands. “I wasn’t about to take that chance.”

“The police—”

“Would have been too late,” Suguru interrupts him and forces himself to not think about that possibility too hard.

“I called you so you wouldn’t come,” Satoru says again and Suguru sighs, taking Satoru’s hands in his.

“And I’m telling you that there’s no universe out there where I would have listened to you. You were in danger; I will always come for you.”

When he hears that Satoru’s breathing goes a little bit unsteady and becomes way too fast for Suguru’s liking, so he pulls him into a hug again.

“What if I lost you? I can’t lose you, Suguru, what if—” Satoru gasps out, fisting his hands in Suguru’s shirt and Suguru sighs.

“I’m right here, Satoru, nothing happened. I’m fine,” he adds. “And the same goes for you, you know. I feel the same, I cannot lose you, Satoru, not ever, so of course I had to come.”

That makes Satoru sob and Suguru only holds him tighter until he calms down again.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers as he presses a kiss to Satoru’s hair and since Satoru doesn’t make any motion to pull away from him, Suguru moves them on the couch until the can lay down, Satoru curled into his side.

“Thank you,” Satoru says after a while, pressing his face into the crook of Suguru’s neck. “Thank you, Suguru.”

“Always,” Suguru gives back, because there really is no universe out there where Suguru would ever let Satoru get hurt and he knows he would do it a hundred times over if it means keeping Satoru safe.

Satoru only hums and finally relaxes fully and Suguru is more than happy to stay awake and keep watch over him for today. They next few days will be stressful enough as it is and he’ll make sure to give Satoru as much security as he can.

[d4rkthots]

夜の女王

(The queen of the night) Part one. -preview-

This story includes (mention of drugs, violence, murder, an other illegal acts -do not try at home.)

M (assassin/mafia associate) x F (Mafia Leader) seonghwa wanted you from the moment you met…

You stand staring out of your mansion window, getting where you were now wasn’t easily obtained. You wanted to become one of the most feared mafia leaders in Korea, men looked down on women, they didn’t see them as equals, you had to prove them wrong…you believed you were able to do whatever they could.

Seong-hwa was originally part of a rival gang that bullied you out of sales and becoming the biggest female dealer in Seoul. After his leader (Ryui Misano) was imprisoned for committing over a hundred murders Seong-hwa decided to help you. Seong-hwa was with Ryui when he got arrested but managed to flee and skip town.

Something about you made him want to reach out a feeling of longing, he was drawn to you before all this extra shit went down. After Ryui was arrested his other subordinate Yuto Yun received all of his properties and products, you needed to get rid of him before he targeted you. If you could get your hands on Ryui’s product you could be the biggest seller in Korea with extended connections. But you couldn’t find him.

Seong-hwa sits in a chair on his balcony, his messy black outgrown hair cascading over his forehead nearly fully covering his sharp brown eyes he stares at the scenery in front him pulling a cigarette out of its pack before dialing your number in his phone, he lights it and takes a long drag before pressing the call button and waiting.

You stare at the unknown number and answer the call after letting it ring twice. “Hello….?” You say a hint of caution in your voice.

“Hi there pretty~” Seong-hwa purrs into the receiver as he exhales a cloud of smoke.

Your eyes widen slightly and you quickly recognize the voice “…Seong-hwa…..? I thought Ryui got arrested, weren’t you with him….? How are you calling me right now?” You ask in confusion.

Seong-hwa lets out a faint laugh at your reply. “Oh dear~ you think I’m dumb?” He takes another long drag of his cigarette before speaking again. “I’ve been planning this escape for months, it finally paid off.”

You smirk slightly, flicking Your lighter a few times “so let me guess… you left town already? why did you call me…hmm?”

Seong-hwa can tell just by your tone over the phone you’re up to no good he lets out a soft sigh. “I want to make a deal.” Seong-hwa speaks plainly into the receiver and takes another long puff of his cigarette, he lets out another cloud of smoke that’s quickly blown away by the wind.

Your eyebrows raised slightly “and what might it be?”

Seong-hwa lets out a soft chuckle as he looks off into the night sky. “Ive been thinking about you…. Can’t stop. I feel like we were connected in the past life…I want to become partners with you…..Yuto’s staying at the Hyatt Regency…..Seoul bay hotel” The words came out of Seong-hwa’s mouth in a sensual way but he spoke with a serious tone of voice as well.

You scoff gently “How do I know I can trust you…..that you won't screw me like your boss did?”

“…….You don’t..” He replies back in a snarky tone of voice as he leans against the wall, he closes his eyes before taking one more deep inhale of his cigarette before exhaling and putting it out. “You’ll just have to find out for yourself~ if I’m trustworthy or not” He replies back playfully.

You wait a second before replying “…if you screw me I’ll make you regret it…” You say in a slightly threatening way “I hope you enjoy your vacation, don't miss me too much…and dont get caught…” you smirk

“Oh don’t worry dear I’m a professional~..” Seong-hwa speaks, being half sarcastic with a hint of playfulness before hanging up. The phone call abruptly ends and you hear a soft beep in your ear followed by a dial tone.

Despite Seong-hwa being a serial killer and complete psycho he acted like a genuine human he had limits when it came to assassinating (no women and no kids.)

If he wasn’t a killer he’d be a great husband.

Part two —-> (smut warning)

[katsukiizmoon]

Fanfiction Writing / Reading

Hi everyone, I wanted to make a little post on general fanfiction writing and reading etiquette etc for everyone. For reference I've been writing fanfiction since I was 12, I'm now nearing 23 and I've been on tumblr since 2013. There's links to resources for those that would like them.

-> GENERAL ADVICE

Color Coding Dialogue On Tumblr: While using color can create visual contrast in things like titles or description, using it to color code dialogue can cause problems for those who are neurodivergent or vision impaired. For instance, I have trouble reading things where the dialogue for one character is bright in color. This means I miss out and can't read and support many new writers.

Showing support for your writers: I don't think demanding reblogs is an appropriate response. However, as someone who has been here for a long time, it's important. You can show your support by commenting, liking, reblogging (and reblogging with tags gives brownie points). Generally : liking will be lost in a sea of likes over time making it harder for you to find that fic again but shows you thought it was good, reblogging shows you enjoyed the fic enough to share it with those on your blog (you can even have a side blog dedicated to fics) and would like to find it again, reblogging with tags or comments says that you enjoyed it enough to share it, push it higher in the tags and that you had thoughts. This helps motivate writers ! Feel free to send them an anonymous ask if you're shy, expressing that you really enjoyed their work.

Use of italics and bold in works: Italics and bold should be used to indicate stressing or importance of certain words. EX: "no you did it!" vs "no you did it" ! You don't need to italic entire dialogue unless it's in certain situations (flashbacks, memories, whispers, etc)

Plotting & Timing: Plot and timing can be a really useful tool! Understanding what your characters are doing and having the plot move smoothly is important when writing. It prevents gaps and promotes interest. Even some of my works move a little too fast, and it can sometimes cause confusion.

READ, READ, READ: Reading is probably the fastest way to increase and broaden your horizons as an author. It allows you to gain a larger vocabularic range and new metaphors. And it helps you find what could be plot holes and more.

SMUT ; Cum Timing: I've written this before, it can happen but it's unlikely. I'll make a whole post dedicated to.. smut. But for now. Here's some other scenarios and miscellaneous notes: -> bottom cums really early on, then the top cums later -> top cums extremely early on, proceeds with oral on bottom -> top can't get it up (this happens a bit with drugs involved) for a while and gives pleasure to bottom, then stops and gives up on an orgasm

Those are a few of my main, overall tips but I'm going to link you to a bunch of resources, too. I understand more than anyone what it's like being new to this. But one of the biggest pieces advice I'm going to give you is:

Allow your writing to be objectively "bad" at first. It always comes with practice. My first fanfictions I used "~" like it was a goddamn period. It's okay.

-> RESOURCES

"writing resources : words are hard"

"describing feelings, emotions, and tone"

"au prompt list"

"how to write medieval smut"

"starting a new paragraph"

"writing resources: world building"

"writing fight scenes"

"ways to further develop main characters"

There are tons of writing blogs on tumblr. You can send them an ask anonymously if you have any questions and they may respond with some good resources. Being a little more on the accurate side, even if you accidentally fuck up a bit, gives you brownie points a LOT.

Have a nice day OwO !

[phantomslink]

Lovely supporter ,🌹

Thank you for your continuous support for the Palestinian cause until freedom is achieved🇵🇸 🕊♥️.

I hope you can help me spread my message to the whole world by reblogging my story🥹🙏🏻♥️.

It's vetted campaign 😁.

Best regards and love💚.

Dr. Mohammed Al-Deeb from Gaza-palestine.

i dont have many followers but i will always do everything i can to help spread the word. from the river to the sea, my friend.

gofvndme

[author-ssi]

Set Me Free ~PJM

➜Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader ➜Genre: Smut, One-Shot Warnings: dom!Jimin/sub!Reader, dry humping (thigh riding), ass play, Daddy kink, bondage innuendos, mention of a blowjob, use of the nickname doll (out of appreciation, not objectification), mention of guns&murder [18+ MDNI] ➜Word Count: 1.4k ➜Summary: Failing a mission as a trained assassin; the consequences you’re going to face are obviously going to be grave. And all the more so, when Jimin - your trainer/boyfriend - is the one confronting you about it.

A dark figure standing in a bright room is the first thing you can make out when you crack your eyes open. What you come to realise next is that your body is laid on the ground with both your hands and legs tied. You turn your gaze back to the figure that’s walking towards you, almost menacingly slow, and as the distance between you two lessens you’re finally able to see his face. A face you immediately recognise, making your eyes widen. Oh shit. “Surprised to see me, doll?”, Jimin smirks down at you and the hostility that’s radiating off of him can only mean one thing - you failed your mission and he’s come to save you. The intensity in his eyes feels like pressure being applied to you and you can’t help but bow down your head in submission. Still, the frustration of having failed your mission resurfaces in your mind making you scoff at him, “Shut up and set me free”. His brows raise warningly at your boldness before he takes out a small knife from his pocket and drops it nonchalantly at his feet, “Freedom can’t simply be given to you, doll. You have to fight for it”. Weighing out his words, it doesn’t take you long to understand what he wants you to do. Stretching your torso, your head inches closer to the fallen knife before you bite onto the hilt. Jimin’s eyes darken as he watches you wiggle your body until you manage to get on your knees before him. His tongue leaves his mouth to wet his full lips as memories of the times he looked down at you like this flood his mind. Your hands tied behind your back, looking up at him with your mouth open wide. Of course, he doesn’t deny neither you or himself the pleasure, with a slight thrust of his hips towards you, his cock is soon engulfed in the warmth of your skillful mouth. He forces himself out of these dirty thoughts to focus back at the task he has at hand, now; disciplining you. He continues to watch you arch your back and turn your head to the side letting the knife drop from your mouth to your hands. Not even a minute later, you’ve cut yourself free and are now standing before him gripping the knife in your hand. “Come on, doll. Show me what you got”, Jimin offers you a challenging smile, taking on a slight defensive stance. 

You don’t waste time, swiftly swinging the knife at him but he’s faster than you. A frustrated grunt leaves your lips each time you miss but you don’t cease your advances, becoming more and more aggressive after each one; and thus more and more sloppy. “Easy now, doll. That’s not how I taught you to fight”, Jimin’s voice is mocking you but the look in his eyes is serious, causing you to halt your movements. Taking a deep breath, your stare, now calculating, is directed straight at him and the moment you notice his shoulders slump, you abruptly pounce on him aiming at his side. This time, he isn’t fast enough, but unfortunately, all you can manage is a slice through the fabric of his shirt. Taking on a more defensive stance, Jimin chuckles lowly readjusting the leather jacket on his shoulders - fleetingly flashing the NEVERMIND tattoo on his skin through the cut of his shirt. “That’s more like it”, you can feel his lustrous eyes pierce right through you, causing shivers to run down your spine; a mixture of fear and excitement taking over you. In one swift movement, Jimin slaps the knife out of your hand and pushes you up against the wall, which now you realise that during your fight you had gotten closer to. “You follow my orders to the letter or next time I’ll tie you up myself”, he growls against your ear and you can’t fight off the cheeky smirk that settles on your lips. “Kinky”, you tease him and you can swear you witness his eyes darken even more before he brings his knee between your legs, applying just enough pressure for you to feel a jolt of pleasure shoot through your body. You let out a little gasp and bite your lips trying to contain yourself, not wanting to give in to him right away. But the moment his full lips graze against the shell of your ear nibbling it slightly, you know you can no longer resist him.

A needy moan slipping past your lips is enough for Jimin to know he has you right where he wants you. “You're such a good girl for me when you want to be”, he smirks as he pulls back to admire the pleasure that’s written across your face; glazed-over eyes, parted lips, pleading expression. Tilting your chin towards him, he instantly connects his lips to yours, kissing them hungrily, swallowing your upcoming moans, as he continues the steady movement of his knee against your clothed pussy. “Jimin, please... I want to feel you more”, you whine moving your hips towards him searching desperately for an increase in friction. Jimin’s smirk widens and his hands roughly grab onto your hips, swiftly closing the distance between you two. Now, he has you placed in such a position that makes it perfectly clear that he wants you to ride his thigh. “That’s not what I meant”, you whine once again and stilling your movements looking up at him indignantly. Jimin, however, glares down at you - a dominant aura emanating from him. “That’s the most you’re gonna get after the little stunt you pulled. So, what’s it gonna be doll?”, he states staring at you intensely yet coolly, his grip on your hips never loosening. “Will you rub your little, wet pussy against Daddy’s thigh now or are you gonna risk getting a punishment when we get back, instead?”, he lays out your options but you know with the way his fingers are now gripping onto your ass, forcing you down onto his thigh - and thus, applying pressure straight to your clothed clit - you have but one option. You whimper plaintively, your hands slowly moving over to hold onto his shoulders, before you start to roll your hips. A pleased hum and a squeeze of your ass is the reward you receive from Jimin as he watches you intensely pleasure yourself against the hard muscle of his thigh, “That’s my girl... Now, let Daddy hear that lovely voice of yours too”, he murmurs huskily against your ear lowering his head towards your neck. A sweet, little cry is heard from your lips when he starts to suck on the soft skin close to the base of your neck and he answers back with a low, rough grunt of his own, barely keeping his composure. His hands begin to massage your ass as a way to distract himself but also in order to help you maintain your hip movement. Fingers dig into the plump flesh when he notices your pace speeding up, knowing you well enough to instantly understand what that means. “Daddy, I’m gonna-”, you pant trying to get the words out but his hot kisses on your neck combined with the constant rubbing on your clit render you speechless. “Cum for me, my lovely doll”, he mumbles without ceasing his assault on your neck and ass; the actions of his teeth, lips, palms and fingers intensifying until the moment he feels your body release with a loud, unrestrained moan. 

So lost are you in each other that you have forgotten the situation you’re currently in, until the defeaning sound of an alarm alerts you. Immediately coming down from your high, you shoot an alarmed look around you while Jimin keeps his face buried in your neck still gracing it with little nips and kisses. Not a moment later, an armed man bursts through the door with his gun aimed right at you shouting at you to put your hands up. Begrudgingly, Jimin groans pulling away from you, turning to glare daggers at the man who barged in on you two, “Hey fool, just get out of my way". Simultaneously, Jimin’s one hand draws you to him by the waist and his other draws his own gun; a bullet flying straight to the man’s head in the blink of an eye. “Show-off”, you tease him again with a cheeky smirk and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’d rather you do it?”, he inquires with an amused smirk offering his gun to you but you shake your head as a ‘no’, smiling innocently up at him.

“I was the one held captive and you’re the one who came to set me free”.

[grimsgrumbles]

the differences with the twins between the book and the film is really funny to me i especially like Maria's lines: "Lemon and Tangerine. They're not twins. They kind of seem similar so everyone assumes they're twins but actually they're totally different." and then movie Maria: "The twins? Stop it, everyone knows they're twins."

[kinkandkreep]

(ɴᴇᴡ) 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

Ari's Stuff

In Search of New Beta Reader

Heads Up

𝐌𝐇𝐀

Oc Related Things

Meet Chike!

Yandere Content

Yanzuku Profile and Headcanons

Yankugou Profile and Headcanons

Non-Yan Content

Zuki Buki Headcanons

Bakagou Headcanons

𝗔𝗢𝗧

Headcanons

Basic Eren Yeager/In Your Erea Headcanons

Pregnancy and Eren Yeager

Pregnancy and Levi Ackerman

Pregnancy and Armin Arlert

AOT Character's Personalities

AOT Characters and High Metabolism S/O

Aesthetics/Collages

AOT Guys and Their Weddings

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

Headcanons

Yandere!Alucard

Dating Alucard

𝕆𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕄𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚-ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝔽𝕚𝕔𝕤

Enemies of Everywhere

Enemies of Everywhere

Enemies of Everywhere~ Key Visual/Collage

𝕄𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚-ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝔹𝕋𝕊 𝔽𝕚𝕔𝕤

Bless Me

Coming Soon: Bless Me

Bless Me: Excerpt

Bless Me: Prologue

Bless Me Chapters

The Kim Clan: Bless Me

Bless Me: Taehyung

Bless Me Visual (Hobi and Tae Tae)

Bless Me Visual (Older Brothers)

Bless Me Visual (Younger Brothers)

You All Belong to Me

You All Belong to Me

YABTM~ Introducing Hyun-Ki

YABTM~ Introducing Eun-Ji

YABTM~ Introducing Bong-Cha

The Scars We Share

The Scars We Share~ Summary

The Scars We Share~ Snippet

The Scars We Share~ Aesthetics

Rundown

Rundown~ Summary

Rundown~ Diagnostic

Rundown~ Prologue

𝐁𝐓𝐒

Yandere Headcanons

Yandere Taehyung when you refuse him sex

Yandere Hoseok Breastfeeding Kink

What Type of Yandere: Kim Namjoon

What Type of Yandere: Kim Seokjin

Plus Size Body Type Preference; Most to Least

T or A: BTS Edition

Yandere!Jin As a Parent

Scenarios

Desire Has Philophobia

Soft!Yandere Reaction to Desire Being a Former Burlesque Dancer

Random Drabbles/Blurbs/Oneshots/Ideas

Bionic Bunny (Yandere!Bionic!Jungkook Idea)

Rounds (Yandere Hoseok oneshot)

For Everybody (Songfic; Yandere!Reader oneshot)

Happy (Re)Birthday (Yandere Jimin oneshot)

Teacher’s Pet (Songfic; Yandere!Jimin oneshot)

The Queen and Her Captors (Yandere!BTS x Original Character oneshot) (This may eventually become a series)

Tummy Time! (Father!Hoseok oneshot)

Aesthetics/Collages

Soft!Yandere Jimin Collage

Hard!Yandere Jimin Collage

Non-Yan Headcanons

BTS with a Black!S/O

BTS “Sex”-canons- Rap Line

BTS “Sex”-canons- Vocal Line (minus Jin)

BTS “Sex”-canons- Kim Seokjin

BTS as gods

BTS Nicknames

Fun Facts

Taehyung, Jimin and Hobi Fun Fact

𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐨'𝐬 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥

Heacanons

KnB Boy Archetypes

Aged Up!KnB Boys Sex-canons

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝗜𝗺𝗽𝗮𝗰𝘁

Headcanons

Good Boi 'Bedo Headcanons

Albedo Drabble

Zhongli Birthday Celebration

Genshin Guys as K-pop Songs

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲

Sephy-kins

Kadaj Headcanons

Yazoo Headcanons

Loz Headcanons

ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ/ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ/ʙʟᴜʀʙꜱ/ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ᴛɪɴɢꜱ 🤪

To The Last Sip- Halloween Special

𝖠𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇'𝗌 𝖢𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽 3

Connor Kenway Mini-Masterlist

​🇸​​🇵​​🇮​​🇩​​🇪​​🇷​​🇻​​🇪​​🇷​​🇸​​🇪​

Miguel O'Hara

𝕋𝕠𝕜𝕪𝕠 ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣𝕤

Tokyo Revengers Mini Masterlist

[acopenhagenarmy]

THE ACADEMY - CHAPTER 1

Pairing: BTS x reader but mostly hyung-line x reader  Side pairings: Jimin x Taehyung, Jimin x Ateez!Wooyoung, reader x Ateez!Seonghwa

Mafia!au - gang!au - assassins!au 

Word count: 5k ish

Warnings: Mentions of death, nudity and sex apart from that some strong language. And I think that’s it for now.. 

Summary: Growing up in one of the biggest and most feared mafias has it’s perks, but what happens when you and you’re friends are suddenly shipped off to the other end of the world? Will you stay together or will the world you live in tear you all apart? 

NOTE: THIS IS THE UPDATED VERSION OF MY HEART RUNS TO YOU

-> NEXT CHAPTER

Harder!” he yelled at you as you once again kicked the punching bag he so desperately tried to keep steady. The sweat was trailing down the sides of your face as tears, as you did your best to keep your breathing under control. It was hard, and he knew just how to work your body to the breaking point.

But then again if anyone could it was him, after all you’ve known each other your entire lives. And you’d been kicking his ass ever since the two of you shared your mother’s womb.

The hall where you and your brother spent every early morning was large. A boxing ring was located in the middle surrounded by different machines and equipment, there to make sure everyone was in the best form of their life. Because at some point all of you would need to run from death, or maybe even fight it. 

A door opened at the top of a flight of stairs and through it walked your brother’s best friend and right-hand man, Jeon Jungkook. Walked might be the wrong word though, if you looked closely it almost looked like he danced down the stairs. 

When he reached the bottom, he spread his long arms and yelled: “Oh, my sweet, sweet Parks! Where have you been all morning?” Both you and Jimin looked confused at each other as your workout came to a halt. 

Jimin slowly let go of the bag, as you once again stood up straight, both of you leaving the workout for a few moments as you tried to decipher just what made your friend this excited at 5:30 am.

You loosened your boxing gloves and threw them aside, revealing the tiger stripes that twisted around your left wrist and ended right below your elbow. In the meantime, Jimin had located a water bottle and threw it your way as you stepped forward towards Jungkook.

As you caught the bottle and opened it you smiled at the giant man before you and said: “Why are you yelling like a maniac Kook? And you better have a good reason to disturb our morning workout.”

You took a big gulp of water as Jimin walked towards the two of you. He shook his head at Jungkook, as he once again started to dance in front of you. 

“Boy, you are completely insane” Jimin spoke as he looked at the man that now resembled a bunny more than a human. He looked at you afterwards, and all you did was raise a brow at your twin, because to be honest what was he expecting. All Jungkook did was grin and send a sweet smile towards the two of you. One of those that made his nose scrunch.

“Well my dearest friends… I come with a message; bitches we got in!” Out of his back pocket he pulled a black paper where the word academy was etched into it in gold, and above the words was a cold circle.

You dropped the water, not minding it spilling all over the floor, and pulled the paper out of Jungkook’s hands as you flipped it and started to read. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Jimin’s excited face as he started to jump, scream and dance with his friend. You could feel your heart stop and your lungs failing as you read over the golden words.

Dear Mr. Park.

We are pleased to inform you that Y/N Park, Jimin Park, Jungkook Jeon and Hoseok ‘J-hope’ Jung all have been accepted into the academy. Their classes will begin in exactly three days from now at the Puck Building in New York City. Each of your trainees must bring two suitcases of personal belongings and only one weapon, so choose wisely.

See you soon

You were in complete and utter shock. The academy was the dream, only the best trainees and children of the most feared mobsters in the world got to go there. It was an honor and a privilege, it was the place where lifelong alliances were built, and enemies were created.

Both you and the boys had never really doubted that you would get in, after all you were one of the largest mafias in all of Asia. But now the day was finally here, the dream had come true.

You took the letter and gave it back to the two boys before you ran up the stairs to get out of the practice room. You needed to talk to Hoseok, and you needed to talk to your dad.

There was no doubt in your mind that Jungkook had stolen the letter from your father’s office. But then again if you had been the one to spot the black and gold envelope, there was no way in hell you would have waited until nightfall to get the news.

It had been a tradition in your family, that the leader would host a dinner to celebrate the young men and women who had been accepted into the school. But the four of you were the best assassins, spies and most skilled in combat your gang had seen in generations. So, there was no way in hell tradition was gonna hold down the criminals inside you all.

You ran down the hall from the gym as quickly as your feet could carry you until you stumbled through the door to Hoseok’s room. Inside you found him splayed out in bed, in the arms of this week’s bimbo as Jimin called them. But then again who wouldn’t love to lay beside the legendary assassin J-hope?

You didn’t care if he had another woman in bed, you didn’t care that the two of them were most likely naked. All you cared about was sharing the best news of both of your lives with your partner in crime. So you jumped down in bed between the two of them, waking both of them up by the sudden need of air in their lungs.

You heard a yell from the women beside you as she rolled out of the bed and landed with a loud bang on the floor. All Hoseok did was grunt annoyed at you, before he pulled you close to him, inhaling the smell of your hair in the process.

“Why are you waking me up at this hour, you know I work late?” He was known for being a grumpy ass in the morning, and today was no exception. “And why the hell do you come into my bed and disturb my sleep, smelling like this?” He pulls back to look you in the eyes, and his filled with disgust.

“Jesus Hobi, be nice! I was in the middle of practice.”

“Well if you were in the middle of your precious practice, why the fuck didn’t you finish it and let me sleep for two more hours?”

You didn’t even know how to begin, so you just looked at him with the biggest smile, as you bit your bottom lip trying to contain the laughter that threatened to spill out into the room.

It was a rare sight, you acting giddy, you losing your words. But Hoseok knew better than to push you for information, that usually just ended with you beating his ass and him being blue and yellow for the rest of the week. So instead he waited, as he lost himself in your eyes. 

On the floor beside the bed you could hear the girl slowly coming to her senses, as she pulled herself up, looking down at the woman who had pushed her out of bed before six in the morning. You knew she wouldn’t be thrilled about it, but the fact that she even got to sleep in Hoseok’s bed was impressive, he usually kicked them out after the deed was done.

“Excuse me, but what the hell do you think you’re doing?” She had a high-pitched voice, instantly annoying you. She tried her best to hide her naked form behind the slight sheer cover she held up to cover her.  

“Dana shut up, will you?” He didn't even take the time to look at the woman, you were all he saw as he tried to figure out what news could be important enough to have you acting like this. 

You slowly looked up at the woman who towered over the two of you, and all you saw was the pout she elegantly had displayed on her face to try and win just a little sympathy from the man beside you. When that didn’t work, she tried yet another method.

“Baby if you kick her out then maybe we can go again?” you rolled your eyes, a little afraid they might get stuck back there if she kept going. But he did nothing, said nothing, he just looked at you and, in the end, she gave up, gathered her things and left the two of you alone in the room.

After an intense staring contest, one that once again ended the instant the thought of kissing you crossed his mind. He got out of bed to get dressed instead. He sat up in the bed as you rolled over to look up into the ceiling. You could hear the slow and lazy footsteps he took towards the two double doors that lead to his walk-in closet. A yawn escaped him as he stretched his arms above his head, to get the blood flowing in his tired and worn out body.

“So, what news is so important that I couldn’t wait?” You could hear him go through the drawers as he spoke.

Your head was filled with both pride and joy, but the words wouldn’t get out. Instead you giggled like a crazy person.

“What is it? Why are you laughing?” The t-shirt he pulled over his head was muffling the sound of his voice, which meant it was safe for you to face him once again. You sat up and turned towards the double doors as you crossed your legs in the soft bed.

“We got in Hobi…” It was almost a whisper and you continued: “We leave in three days, can you believe it? The day has finally come!” You clapped your hands as you watched him walk towards you.

“You’re kidding? Who got in? All of us?” You nodded your head and intertwined your hands with each other, squeezing with all the strength in your body. Because if this was a dream you needed to wake up now.

He sprinted towards you and tackled you back into bed as he screamed at the top of his lungs. Your arms held him close in a hug as you both laughed. It was emotional to be the one to tell him the news. You knew that he would get scolded by the rest of the boys who lived in his hall later on for waking them with his screams, but he didn’t seem to care. The happiness and pride of this achievement made the screams called for, and as soon as they knew they’d agree. 

The two of you had talked about this day since you were four and his father had brought him into the manor for the first time. Hoseok’s father was your dad’s right-hand man, and because of this you grew up together and trained together. You had shared everything together, hell he even lived in your house.

“Oh my god, this is insane! It’s completely insane! But wait… How the hell do you know?” Hoseok had a puzzled expression as he looked into your eyes.

“Well… Jungkook might’ve been snooping around in dad’s office, and there he might’ve found the acceptance letter”

You knew how much he hated to go against your father. Dae-Hyun or Papa Park as you and Jimin sometimes called him, had opened his house to both Hoseok and his family. An act Hoseok saw as a privilege and an honor. And unlike you and Jimin, it was kind of hard to be a teenager and a rebel against the man who was not only your boss, but one of the most powerful mafia leaders in this world.

“One day that boy is gonna end up being killed for all the stunts he pulls” He shook his head at your younger friend, but the smile refused to leave his lips.

“I know… But don’t worry I’m going to find pops as soon as I’m done with you and fill him in on the situation. After all he might want to do the dinner anyways” You shrugged your shoulders a little.

“Look at you being the responsible leader Y/N!” He hit your shoulder playfully as you laughed at his statement.

“Well I might as well start to take my role seriously now. No need to wait, you know?” You bit your bottom lip as you started to twirl the golden ring that was displayed on one of your fingers.

Hoseok stood up from the bed and looked down on you with loving eyes. You were the woman he could never have, the person he’d always protect and follow blindly into any battle.

“So tell me… What do I need to pack?”

After a long discussion with Hobi about just which outfits he should pack, and an even longer one with what sniper rifle he should bring to the States, you were off to see your dad.

You skipped down the corridors of the giant manor, saying hi to everyone you met on your way, until you’d finally reached your fathers office. He had an open-door policy for both you and the boys so instead of knocking you busted through the door.

He was sitting behind the giant mahogany desk, reading the reports from both spies and distributors that had been piling up in the dark hours of the night. He looked powerful in this setting. High ceilings, big windows, expensive suit and of course with an expensive bottle of whiskey nearby.

He looked up from his papers for a brief moment, only to discover you were already walking towards him. He slowly laid down his pen, as he sent you a gentle smile. In front of the desk were two leather chairs who faced him, and as usual you placed yourself in the left one.

“Hello sweet daughter, what can I do for you today?” He spoke like the man in power he was, his voice was deep and intimidating, even when he wasn’t trying to be. But then again it was a given when you were in his position.

You didn’t respond and just moved around nervously in the chair as you fiddled with the golden ring that rested on your pinkie on your left hand. Just like your tattoo it displayed your rank in the family business, as you liked to call it.

“I know what Jungkook did Y/N, there’s no need to beat around the bush” You quickly looked up from the ring, your face displaying the surprise you felt, and your heart started to beat faster as he continued his speech: “I have security and cameras everywhere in this house, you really think anything goes missing without my permission?”

He now had a smirk on his lips, and you could see the spark in his eyes. Your father was a cruel man to those who deserved it, and a stern leader to almost everyone. Except to a chosen few. To you he was kind, playful at times, and almost always with a smile on his face and that incredible kind spark in his eyes. Unless you talked business of course.

You laughed before you answered him.

“I thought you might’ve figured it out by now. I hoped you hadn’t, because it would’ve been nice to be the one to surprise you for once”

He put away his reading glasses and stood up. Slowly walking to the other side of his desk as he sat down on the edge, both hands resting beside him.

“Well… One day you might be able to, but not quite yet Blade…” His smile was as kind as always as he said your nickname. “… But judging from your smile I guess the academy had great news?”

You didn’t know it was possible to feel prouder or happier than you already were, but the feeling that slowly blossomed in your chest was nothing you’d ever felt before. You could feel the tears in your eyes as you smiled at the man you admired most in this world.

“We all got in, all four of us” Your voice cracked a little, but you did not care for a single second. The two of you had talked about this day since you’d held your first katana. And to share the good news with the man that had made you the woman you were today, meant everything to you.

He stood up from his spot and walked towards you, arms stretched open to give you the bear-hug he knew you needed. And you walked right into his arms and let the tears roam free.

“I’m so proud of you Blade, of all of you.” He whispered into your hair before he placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you away from his chest, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. He placed a kiss on your forehead as you laughed a little. “But I never doubted any of you, I trained you to be the best, not ordinary, so of course they want you all” 

You rarely showed people your emotions. It wasn’t that it was a sign of weakness, but being a girl high placed in the mafia, people would use anything to gain the upper hand in this game you called life. It was like every other corporation, typically a patriarchy. A typical tradition because men had this idea that women couldn’t be ruthless, that they couldn’t handle the power, that they couldn’t handle the bloodshed. Luckily for you, your family didn’t share that view, and neither did the rest of the crew under your father. 

You cleared your throat as he finally let go of you, looking into your happy eyes as his own filled with pride.

“I’m sorry if we ruined the dinner though”

He laughed at that statement and turned around to once again find his rightful place behind his giant desk. “Now call those boys in here I need to have a chat with you all before it all goes down tonight, because we all know you’ll be too hungover tomorrow to come if I call a meeting then”

You raised an eyebrow, your way of saying: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

“Don’t give me that look Y/N, we’ve been down that road before. That being said, you need to shower first”

You shrugged, he wasn’t wrong.

After an amazing breakfast you went back to your room, quickly ridding yourself of your workout clothes to hop into a steaming hot shower. You stood there for a few minutes and wondered just how your life would look in a few weeks’ time.

Would you be able to create new alliances, or would it end up being impossible because you’re a woman? It was very rare that women were in powerful positions in the mafia, and even rarer that they were the first in line for the throne. And the more you thought about it the more anxious you got. It might not be a problem at home, where your people knew just how you were raised to rule, but you needed to prepare yourself for every reaction in the book. 

You turned on the cold water to get the negative thoughts out of your system, your way of clearing your head, at least for the time being. Once again it worked like a charm. After a good cleanse of both hair, body and mind, you left to start your morning routine.

Because this was a special day, you knew you needed a little extra than just the regular black dior outfit. You did your makeup and dressed in an elegant black suit. 

The black flared pants hugged your body in all the right places and displayed your curves just how you liked it. The blazer that matched gave you no waist and therefore you styled it with a belt with gold hardware to match the jewelry you wore. Just to give it a little something extra. Your hair was slicked back and your face open for the world to see the beauty of your jawline and cheekbones.

Stilettos were something you loved dearly, and almost always wore when you didn’t workout. You had mastered running in everything from 1-15cm, something all the men found very impressive. The red bottom Louboutins had therefore been a part of your outfits for a few years now. 

You looked into the mirror, pleased with the woman who looked back at you. You looked like you were in charge and knew what was going on around you, you looked like you belonged in this world that was mostly dominated by men. You looked lethal and beautiful all in one. 

You twisted your ring once as you took a deep breath. Afterwards you rolled up your sleeves to display your tattoo. 

Two knocks on your door pulled you out of your daydreaming. Jimin and the boys were here, and as you opened you almost had to take a step back before their jaws hit the floor before you.

The three men, your three so-called besties, looked you up and down, but none of them spoke. Nervous about their reaction you spun the ring around your fingers as you looked at them with a shy smile.

“What’s wrong? Do I have something in my face?” You laughed a little as you smiled wide at the three men who stood before you.

“N-no, no, no, no! Not at all you just… You look hot!” Jungkook said as he gave you a wink and licked his lip like a man starved.

“Duuuude! That’s my sister stop it!” Jimin hit his chest as he whisper yelled at him.

“I know that! But look at her!” He gestured towards you with both hands.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and shot one hip to the side, as you poked your cheek from the inside using your tongue, the very best indicator for when someone pissed you off.

Hoseok rolled his eyes and kissed your cheek. “You look beautiful and deadly” and afterwards pushed the boys out of the way and down the hall to make room for you. 

“Stop drooling and start walking before your future boss kicks your ass in a hallway. Besides we’re already late” He pointed towards the door at the end of it that led to your dad’s office, your arm snaked around his.

Hoseok always loved to have you like this, on his arm. To those who didn’t know you, you could look like a couple, and sometimes he liked to daydream of how things could be, if he was just a man and you were just a woman. Maybe then he could love you boldly, openly, publicly. 

As the two younger boys stumbled towards the door, he looked at you. A small but genuine smile on his lips as his eyes sparkled.

Jungkook and Jimin had bolted right through your fathers office doors, not a care in the world or a thought on their minds. Most likely startling him in the process. Both you and Jimin sat down in your chairs as Hoseok rested against the back of yours and Jungkook stood by the windows, looking out into the courtyard.

“I’m glad you all made it on time, this way we won’t be late for dinner” He said as he opened the carafe with gin and poured you a glass over ice. You had never liked whiskey the same way the boys had, and therefore he had made sure that there was something you enjoyed in his office. 

You thanked him as you grabbed the glass from his hands, and he continued to pour the remaining men in the room a glass of the golden liquid. And then he began his speech.

“First of all, I wanna say how proud I am of each and every one of you, you deserve this… More than any other. So, cheers to you.” He raised his glass, and you all followed his example as he continued.

“In two days’ time you’ll arrive in New York to attend the academy, and the next year will be both physically and mentally draining. When you step into those grand halls only three rules apply.” You all looked at each other with a smirk, rules never applied to you so why should it now? The response you got from him was there for a stern look, he meant business.

He continued: “and they are so basic even you four should be able to follow them. Rule number one, you are only allowed to bring one weapon. Rule number two, no killing, there will be plenty of time for that in the years to come. You are allowed to fight though, but that’s it! Rule number three, you are not allowed to leave.”

You could see Jungkook’s dramatic eye roll from where you were seated. “So they are just gonna lock us up?”

You sighed.

“You are allowed to leave the complex Jungkook, don’t be stupid” The boys laughed, and you did your best to hold back a chuckle. “You are just not allowed to leave New York unless you are given an assignment outside the city”

All that left his mouth was an almost silent grunt, as he turned around to join you all in the small circle in the middle of the room.

“So what now? Is it time for the party?” Hoseok said with hopeful eyes.

“Not quite yet, first it’s time for the gifts” You all looked confused at each other, no one had ever said anything about getting gifts at this thing.

“Dad, what? I mean thanks I guess, but really you shouldn’t have…” Jimin started the sentence but was quickly interrupted.

“I know I shouldn’t have. But you are my children, all of you” Jungkook moved his weight from one foot to the other as he stared down into the ground, blush silently creeping over his face.

He walked away from all of you, pulling a book from the massive bookcase in the room that opened up to the secret room that was your dads private and secret armory. He disappeared into the darkness and was back a few seconds later with a massive duffle back.

You all moved closer to peek into the bag, trying to see exactly what he was planning to surprise you with. The first thing he pulled out was a sniper rifle, or to be precise a M24. It was midnight black with golden tiger stripes clinging to the barrel. You turned your head as you looked at Hoseok, he loved that gun, and his eyes were sparkling as he slowly extended his hands out towards it.

“This is yours J-hope, you have always made me proud so don’t make me regret that I’ve officially given you your stripes now” Your father winked at him as he handed him the rifle. Hoseok was still in awe as he traced the golden stripes with his fingers. A small thank you escaped his mouth, as he walked away from the table, still looking at the rifle as a love crazed thirteen-year-old.

“Jungkook” The boy beside your father suddenly stood a little taller.

“I know you don’t use guns and that you prefer to fight with your hands. But there’s no way in hell I’m sending you to a school full of killers and liars without a weapon.” He pulled a knife out of the bag, golden handle and once again the stripes were to be found on this one as well. He took the handle and expected it in silence.

“For you son I have two things, and don’t worry, I’ve already talked to the school and because they are a set you are allowed to bring it with you”

Jimin smirked and his eyes narrowed as he looked at your father.

“You didn’t?!”

“Oh, but I did”

He pulled out a ‘Beretta 92FS’ with a matching silencer, again painted black in golden tiger stripes. One weapon but two parts so technically he wouldn’t break any of the rules the academy had set. Clearly there had to be a point with all these matching weapons. Your brother hugged your father tightly, making your heart flutter at the sweet moment they now shared before you would be gone for who knows how long.

“I’m so proud of you my son, I hope you know that” his hand rested on Jimin’s cheek, as he looked deep into his eyes.

“I know pops”

“Good… and last but not least!”

Instead of pulling your weapon from the bag, like he did with the others, he went back into the armory.  When he returned, he had a katana with him, but this wasn’t just any katana. It was tradition in the East-Asian mafias that the heir to the throne had one, it was a display of power, just as your ring and tattoo. It showed people you were the one in charge, and that you were the one they needed to fear, to respect. 

The holster was black, everything about this sword was as dark as your soul. Except for a small pendant that hung from the end of it. A solid gold tiger. You pulled it from its holster revealing the sharp blade. You swung it around just to get a feel of it, and it was perfectly balanced for your body.

“I have given you all weapons that link you to each other, weapons that show everyone you’ll meet where you belong. I know each and every one of you will make me proud in your own way, and I’m excited to see what this journey will bring for every one of you. Make more allies than enemies, be only cruel to those who deserve your wrath. Most of those you’ll meet are beneath you so don’t waste your time… But for now, go, you deserve this party, you deserve one last night of bad decisions before you go into the world as my representation”

You all nodded, straightening your backs, looking forward as if you were ready to fight the world in this moment. You all left your father behind in the office, and when the door was finally closed behind you a squeal of happiness and laughter erupted in the halls. Making the old man smile behind the once again closed doors.

[juanabaloo]

me: ship and let ship! it's OK if it's not for me, just move on. no need to comment.

also me: *sees a screencap of Cordelia and Connor* oh sweet jesus no. BOOOOOO!

[giamaria333]

Patiently waiting for some of y’all to make fanfics about Rain Bi Aka Jung Jihoon I’ve been waiting since middle school (2013)

[jimxnslight]

The Reaper's Daughter (PJM)

Summary: The Reaper’s Letter, a chilling call for blood, has been delivered, and who better to answer that call than the Reaper’s Daughter herself?

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Hitman au, mystery

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Park Jimin. That’s it, that’s the warning. 

A/N: Take this random drabble (or possible prologue…?) while I struggle with writing TSC even though I’m only on the third chapter (●_● ).

The first time you met him was on a piece of paper. 

It wasn’t just any piece of paper, of course. If that had been the case, his name would have been quickly dispelled into the forgotten depths of your mind. Your world was nothing short of a theatre piece crafted by Shakespeare himself, and anything that strayed from his intricately constructed script swiftly faded into its indifferent backdrops. 

No, the paper you met him on was very much a detail of that script. Delicately handcrafted, with sloping black cursive characters and glittering golden borders. It had many names, too. The Reaper’s Letter. Death Note. The Waiting Crow’s Hailing. But, it was not what it was called that mattered. 

What mattered was the name printed boldly on its top left corner. Because whoever’s name was unfortunate enough to find itself nestled cosily on this paper, would be found dead by week’s end. 

It had always reminded you of a children’s game you could just barely remember from the shattered fragments of your childhood, though there was nothing childish about the work you did. You’re handed the Death Note, you navigate through the mountains of information it supplies, and then the hunt begins. Kind of like Tag, yet nothing like it at all. 

But that time the rules had been slightly different. Usually accompanying the name was a picture of your target, alongside a thick file of information covering every miniscule detail of the name’s life. Instead, the paper handed to you held only three words. 

Name: Park Jimin. 

Beside it was no picture, no age, no location. At first it had annoyed you, because that meant the burden of research now fell heavily on your shoulders. But then again, this was a novel challenge, one that you were not willing to collapse under. 

Your interest had piqued even further when you were halted before your exit to be given an ominous warning. 

“Be careful, I heard he’s sharp.”

The statement was not enough to catch you off guard, but it, like the entirety of this task, was new. You were one of the best. If the likes of you had to be cautioned, then who exactly was this man?

You didn’t find out, and maybe that had been your first mistake. His information had been hidden well, too well. Of course, that had sent a few alarms blaring in your head about messing with the wrong people. But you had been given a job, and you couldn’t not see it through. 

Thus, by week’s end, you had only managed to collect a measly location and picture. It wasn’t much, but you were out of both options and time. And really, a name and place was all you’ve ever needed anyway. 

Killing a person was really not as difficult as films made it out to be. 

Take Park Jimin for example. He was completely unaware of your presence on the rooftop of the building standing right next to the enormous banquet hall he was in now. Instead, he laughed with a woman adorning glittering gold jewellery from head to toe, with a velvety navy blue dress that could only be designer. She was not special amongst the sea of identically dressed women, each accompanied by men in posh suits. 

Park Jimin didn’t look too bad himself. He was donning a dark magenta suit that hugged him in all the right places, especially the extra piece of cloth that wrapped around his torso to show off his figure. His hair was dyed dirty blonde, but it only added to the intensity that radiated off of him. 

If only it could save him from the bullet that was about to make acquaintance with his head. 

The one that you were going to release, just from a little pressure on the trigger of the sniper that your finger brushed against now.

Poor Park Jimin. He won’t be getting laid tonight, at least, not in the way he wanted. 

Your finger pressed against the trigger, only to still when a head appeared in front of Jimin. It was another woman, this time in a sequined scarlet dress that was pulled taut against her skinny figure.

You readjusted the aim of your sniper, making sure it was once again pointed towards Jimin’s head, only to huff when another opulently dressed individual, this time a man dressed in a dull black suit, gets in the way of your aim. 

You wouldn’t have paid it much thought if it wasn’t for the unusual nature of everyone’s movements. The second your aim found its way back to Jimin’s head, another individual would pop up, effectively blocking your aim. It was so ridiculous that, at some point, even Jimin himself had disappeared behind the crowd of people now laughing and chattering with one another. 

It only took you a few moments to realise the eeriness of the situation, and then one more to jump to your feet. Something was wrong, you could practically feel it buzzing around you in the air. 

As if confirming your suspicion, you heard the safety of a gun being turned off behind you. That made you freeze. 

“So, they chose you?”

The voice behind it was soft but low, and although you’ve never heard it before, you can already guess who it belongs to. 

You kept your lips sealed, not entirely sure what his words meant. They were too ambiguous, too many meanings that they could branch into. 

Instead, you decided to risk turning around. 

You were wrong, you realised, about Jimin not looking too bad. Because although he was pointing a simple handgun at your forehead, he was probably the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. 

His magenta suit had darkened into a rich wine shade that seemed to glitter under the soft rays of the moonlight, while a few strands of dirty blonde hair rested delicately on his exposed forehead. This was in contrast with his sharp jawline, that casted a deep shadow on his neck. But his eyes… Though a simple brown, they held an intensity you couldn’t quite decipher. Like creatures swimming to the surface of the vast ocean for only brief moments, you managed to catch only glimpses. Of mischief. Of anguish. You could have sworn you had even caught a tail of compassion. 

But a compassionate man wouldn’t be pointing a gun at your head now would he?

In a single, swift movement, your fingers wrapped around the gun at your waist and brought it to his own head, a perfect reflection of him. You waited for the familiar fear to pull at his calm expression, but instead, you watched him smile. 

He was pissing you off. Not because of his clearly inciting behaviour, but because he had a chance to kill you and he didn’t. He didn’t seem stupid enough not to be aware of your intentions, and yet, he didn’t seem the slightest bit worried, or even vengeful. 

Why?

“It seems we’re at a stalemate,” he stated, eyes searching your expression. For what? You didn’t know. Only now were you wishing that you had collected more research on the man standing before you. Then you at least might’ve had an inkling of his intentions. 

“Both of us will be dead the second these guns go off,” he continued nonchalantly, as if he were talking about the weather.

Silence. 

It was a very underrated tactic that had quickly become one of your signature skills a long time ago. It was especially useful now, as you were in a bit of a predicament. You could have shot him and left easily if he was inexperienced. A simple disarm, duck and shoot would have been more than enough to secure a safe exit, as well as your paycheque. 

But his posture was perfect, his hands gripped the gun without even a quiver of instability, and there was an ease to his movements that lacked any kind of panic. 

He was like you, you realised. Gang members were wildcards that acted before they thought and most of their movements were rough around the edges. Police officers were more diplomatic, and Jimin would have stated that he was a cop the first chance he got if he were one. 

No, he wasn’t a gang member or police officer. He was more like you. 

You allowed yourself a single step backwards, the beginning of your journey to the roof’s edge. 

If he was as experienced as you were, he was going to be a slight problem. You had not anticipated this. You needed to do more research, find out who this man truly was because he did not seem normal. His flashy attire, calculating gaze, and eerie amusement in this whole situation had thrown you off, but you’ve never been one to be embarrassed. 

Life happened, you were a prime example of that. 

“Leaving so soon?” He asked, tilting his head to the side with an unwavering gaze. 

“You’re not doing a very good job at- well, your job. So, I’m assuming the party’s over,” you finally said, voice flat. 

“Ah, so she can speak,” he said, feigning astonishment, but it didn’t bother you much, “love, if I wanted you dead, you would be it already.”

“Careful. I’ve seen the overconfident crumble faster than the weak.”

You know you shouldn’t have responded if you wanted to maintain your air of silence, but you were also mature enough to admit that winning frivolous verbal spats like these were a guilty pleasure of yours. Before Jimin could continue, to fan the fire you guessed because he seemed like the kind of man that would, you beat him with a question.

“So, tell me why you’ve decided you don’t want me dead.”

He chuckled at that statement. 

“Who said I didn’t?”

He readjusted his aim so that instead of your head, the gun was pointed at your heart, “maybe you’re just nice to look at, and I’m just enjoying the view before you’re reduced to nothing but a pool of blood on this rooftop.”

This time it was your turn to chuckle, but you only laughed inwardly. If he was expecting you to be scared he was going to have to do a better job than that.

Despite repressing the laugh, you still felt a smile just barely twitch against your lips, “I would’ve expected trash talking to be beneath you Park Jimin.”

Jimin’s gaze remained steady, a glint of amusement in his eyes, “trash talking, huh? Well, I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

You cocked your head to the side, a silent question, but Jimin only copied the movement. At first you thought he was mocking you, but then he spoke. 

“So they finally decided to send you,” Jimin continued, “Reaper’s Daughter.”

You didn’t let yourself tense, or move in any way that would indicate that he had caught you off guard. That nickname was known by many, but the many couldn’t attribute it to a face. Not only did Jimin know you were The Reaper’s Daughter, but he had also revealed it to you that he knew. You still didn’t know what game you had walked into, but it was clear now that there was more to this task than you thought. There was more to Jimin than you thought. 

Slowly, you let your eyebrows pull together as you cast him a confused look. Jimin chuckled, seeming to find amusement in your lack of communication. 

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you for a while.”

The fact that you’ve had someone tailing you and you didn’t notice didn’t sit right with you. But you pushed the thought to the back of your mind, focusing instead on the fact that Jimin had been collecting information on you and that could only mean there was something he wanted. 

Before you could ask what it was, Jimin spoke up again. 

“When I first saw you on this rooftop, I wondered what you could be doing here. And then I watched you assemble your sniper,” he said, “I couldn’t understand why you’d agreed to make me one of your targets.”

You almost snorted at his naivety, because if he had been tailing you then he should know what you do for a living, but then paused at his next words. 

“I found it odd that this little mouse had agreed to eliminate the only one on her side,” he continued, “unless… she decided to switch sides.”

The atmosphere shifted from light jabs to a fierce hostility as the amusement suddenly drained from his face, leaving behind a sharp pair of eyes that betrayed nothing. You automatically tensed, knowing that the real standoff had just begun, even if you didn’t have a clue as to what Jimin was talking about. 

“I must say I’m disappointed. I wouldn’t have expected it from you of all people. I didn’t expect that you’d be here for this reason.”

“Speak plainly, Jimin. What are you talking about?” you said, your curiosity finally reaching a point strong enough to break your silence. Your tone was still flat, but now it was firm, tired of his cryptic words and your mind trying to grasp at straws to understand. 

Jimin studied you for a moment. Without the amusement in his gaze, you had to stop yourself from shifting uncomfortably. His eyes could be so… intense. 

You had a feeling that your words had surprised him, as the hostile environment seemed to dampen for a moment. Jimin looked like he was at a crossroad, unsure if he wanted to share what was truly on his mind or simply take his chances and kill you on the spot. You waited patiently, curious to have the hurricane of questions in your mind answered. 

But when the silence continued to stretch, you realised that Jimin had decided to adopt your preferred method of communication. It was clear now that he had opted to leave you in the dark instead, refusing to reveal any kind of information to you. You felt a pang of annoyance hit your chest as you realised the burden of research would, once again, fall on your shoulders. 

You took another step towards the edge of the roof, Jimin’s eyes still focused on you. It’s not like you were trying to hide it, because Jimin’s calculating gaze would not allow such a thing. The two of you knew there would be no deaths tonight. You were caught in a stalemate, one you would have left a while ago under normal circumstances, but nothing about Jimin was normal and maybe that was why you had stayed a lot longer than you should have. 

But even though he looked almost devilish under the moonlight in those sinfully sultry clothes, holding tempting answers to questions he would never answer, you knew you couldn’t stay any longer. This night was over. There was nothing left here for you. 

The roof’s edge brushed against your backside as you continued to aim your gun at Jimin’s chest, your gaze just as focused as his. You watched his expression soften for a moment before he spoke. 

“When you figure it out, you’ll know where to find me, Y/N L/N.”

You didn’t know how he knew your name. You didn’t know what he wanted you to figure out. You didn’t know where you would find him, or if you would even want to find him after you figured out whatever you needed to. But you didn’t question it. A gut feeling told you that once you started searching, you’d be able to figure things out easy enough. All you had to do was get out of here so that you could let your curiosity do its thing. 

So when you were finally balancing on the edge of the roof, taking Jimin’s gaze into your own, it wasn’t at all abnormal when you felt the drop of the fall in your stomach. 

What was abnormal was the butterflies that continued to flutter even after you had landed on the pavement of the street.

The butterflies that continued to flutter even after you had made it safely back to your home.

[biaswreckmepls]

do you have any fics that are similar to mr & ms smith where both are hitmen but neither of them know yet?

oooh, I love this ask, yes i absolutely do! There's one that i've recced here, and here's a few more:

Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU

never shoot to miss by umjis (umji) (Vmin, One-shot, T, 14K)

Hold Me Tight, or Don't by orphan_account (Yoonmin, One-shot, E, 28K)

mr. & mr. min by notyoongs (Yoonkook, One-shot, E, 9.2K)

Mr. Jeon & Mr. Kim by Lancae (Taekook, 3 Chapters, G, 14K)

Mr. & Mr. Jeon by jeonstylus (Jikook, 6 Chapters, E, 79K)

Hope you like these!

[pod-together]

Party Favors 2023

These are the six projects that were made pod-together style (created for audio, with text and audio included) outside the structure of the modded challenge and are being revealed today to celebrate the end of this year's pod-together!

Humor as a Crutch (Spider-Man: Spider-Verse (Sony Animated Movies)) written and performed by pezzax Summary: Charlotte Webber battles a foe that none of the other Spider people on any other earth have ever faced: Ehlers-Danlos syndrome.

the simple life (Baby Assassins - Fandom) written by resistate, performed by the24thkey Summary: Chisato and Mahiro watch Ocean’s Eight together.

busan holiday (방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS) written by resistate, performed by celli Summary: Boy detective Kim Namjoon tries to catch a break. Featuring boy-next-door Min Yoongi, the only convertible Hyundai ever made, a shocking dearth of 'Train to Busan' references, and, incidentally, a mystery.

Printers as a Love Language (방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS) written by celli, performed by idellaphod Summary: Only for love would Namjoon attempt to fix the printer. Spoiler: oops.

The Yaatree: Drinks at the Five Lords (Original Work, Yaatree Universe) written and performed by BardicRaven Summary: Berun Tubshora and Tesin'th Kar have agreed to try again with drinks at the Five Lords to see if they can actually work together.

Proem: Helen, Achilles and the Great War of 1,200 BC (The Iliad - Homer, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore) written by GwenChan, performed by ArtemisTheHuntress, blackglass, chrishuyen, farkenshnoffingottom, GwenChan, InklingDancer, minnabird, SerenaEW, stargateinmybasement, and jacks_long_coat Summary: The Ilium Choir of Podtogether proudly narrates: A venerable Greek Poem where everybody got three epithets Sit down, check your notes and enjoy the show