#mafia kim namjoon

[pennyellee]

𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐒

𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐒 | 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀 𝐀𝐔 pairings: yandere mafia namjoon x barmaid f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, slight porn with plot, 90s word count: 19,7K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily)

masterlist

summary: “You are something I can sin for” An anchor amidst the stormy seas of life — that’s what Namjoon is for you. But it wasn’t always like that. There was a time where you’ve resented Namjoon with every fibre of your being and every word that came out of his plump lips after what he had done to prove his power. Unfortunately, you will never know what life could be if Kim Namjoon was not in it.

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, reader meets namjoon at 17, forced engagement, kidnapping, graphic violence, death, murder, blood, explicit language, misogyny, mentions of feminism, alcohol usage, mentions of religion and God, church smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, oppa-kink and so on (i'll add some if i'll forget)

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

a/n: So here we are! This is the story I've been thrilled to share as it unfolds almost simultaneously with Champagne Confetti. Y/N, alias Peaches, is my baby, and I cannot wait to write more for her and Namjoon after my current project wraps up, wink wink. I have drafts for other fics set in the same universe as my current work and the new one, Anubis. Step by step, my fairies ♥

I hope you will enjoy reading this piece I've kept to myself for a long time. The best thing about writing is that I get to build this world of imagination and live in it for months before it gets to you. Sooo, I'm very nervous and excited to push Anubis out as a second fic within this universe— which now I have decided is going to be called — 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟔. Without further ado, enjoy, fairies! ♥

1996

There's a soft whisper in your bones, each time you wake up in the morning. As your eyes flutter open, the room is dimly lit, shadows dancing on the ceiling. All your demons are staring at you from above. They have been there when you went to sleep, and they are still there when you wake up. You know them all too well—regrets, doubts, fears—they've become familiar companions in the lonely hours of the night. They whisper tales of your failures, amplifying every mistake, every misstep, until they echo like thunder in your mind.

But would it be any different if your steps turned the other direction? Would the cosmos allow you to be? Possibly. You, however, will never know what life would be without blood flowing down the stream, dirty money from all the sins you've watched being committed.

You will never know what life could be if Kim Namjoon was not in it. But the thought is fleeting, for you know deep down that he is as much a part of your story as the demons that haunt you. His presence has shaped you in ways both profound and subtle, leaving an indelible mark on your soul and your body. The agonising pain within still remains and all you can think of is how did you get to this point in your story.

"Bitches come and go, Peaches—" you recalled those words like it was yesterday they were uttered.

"—but you and him, love, you be for life."

An anchor amidst the stormy seas of life — that's what Namjoon is for you. But it wasn't always like that. There was a time when you resented Namjoon and every word that came out of his plump lips.

Kim Namjoon was trouble and the whole Bronx knew so. Heck, even the whole state knew what kin he came from. You were no exception. But whatever you did, you never managed to put distance between you two.

The world seemed both infinitely vast and impossibly small when the streets of the Bronx were your stage. You were barely seventeen when you met Namjoon, a whirlwind of youthful energy and reckless abandon, there he is, so vivid in your memories.

Every time you'd help around Anubis, you could see his straying eyes. He had an aura of mischief that drew you in like a moth to a flame. You remember the way his gaze lingered on your skin, straying from the task at hand to fixate on you with a mixture of fascination.

Namjoon's reputation preceded him like a shadow cast by the noonday sun. Entirely impossible to overlook, yet you did. His name was whispered in hushed tones in the back alleys and dark corners where his influence held sway, and that was only the beginning. The magnitude he reached decades later is for another story.

You had heard the rumors—the tales of his involvement with the local gangs, the whispers of his connections to the underworld that lurked beneath the surface of the city. Certainly, you would have to be lying if you said that Anubis was completely legal. You were not that stupid. While it bore the façade of a legitimate establishment, its roots ran deep into the murky waters of the criminal underworld.

Mrs. Jung could smile as widely as she wanted and reassure you that all was fine and all was taken care of, but you couldn't ignore the whispers that circulated about Anubis. Yet she paid triple what you could get in any regular bar. Not like you could work at a regular bar at the time at your age. Survival often depended on turning a blind eye to the unsavory realities of life that you would never be able to face alone. Money was tight and you could not afford to lose such a good-paying job. Even if it took what it took.

"His eyes are hungry for you, Peaches—" said Mrs. Jung while toying with the little umbrella that was swimming in her Kamasutra drink you'd prepared just a few minutes ago. You envisioned your life in the city just like she had, Saint Laurent heels clicking loudly as you would walk down the streets of Manhattan. You admired your lady boss from her head to toes. Mrs. Jung was a symbol of pussy and power. Until she was not. The power was given to her and once she rejected to meet the expectations, it was taken from her.

"—But that's all he can do, at least for now."

She winked your way and then her attention turned to the approaching male figure. What she meant by that is loud and clear. You are underaged and Namjoon cannot make any move on you even if he wanted to. Although something tells you that this would be the least illegal thing he would’ve committed.

You’ve met Mark Tuan on occasion when he stopped by the bar. She was not Mrs Jung at the time, yet the notorious life of your lady boss, confused you even then. The way she and Mr Jung behaved around each other gave you the impression that he is her lover and not the tattooed boy that fucked the brains out of her in the office upstairs.

You felt the pain that was reflected on Jung Hoseok’s face when he asked where is she and you had to answer truthfully. The only thing you knew about Namjoon was that he and the Jungs ran way back. Their primary, and to the upper world’s eye, legal assets were the distilleries that distribute whiskey and brandy which you were serving each night till early hours of the morning.

The moment he particularly chose to visit the bar only those evenings you’ve been around was a louder hint shouted your way. As if you haven’t already figured. There was something intoxicating about the way he moved through the world and the way he moved you once your eyes locked.

The way he spoke to you, listened to you so attentively, gave advice on occasion and provided a shoulder to lean on, was all pulling you to him even more. It made you forget about all the skeletons that were in his closet.

The air crackled with anticipation as he walked through the room each night, straight to you, his gaze fixing on you with a mixture of fascination and desire. But amidst the heat of the moment, there was a shadow of doubt that lingered in the back of your mind.

Mrs. Jung's sudden disappearance, Namjoon taking over the day-to-day operations of Anubis—it all seemed too convenient, too perfect to be mere coincidence. It gave him the opportunity to watch you, enchant you. You were scared that he'd cut you off whenever you fucked up something. But he never did; rather the opposite, offering you a lifeline when you needed it most. There was a chemistry between you that defied explanation, a silent understanding that transcended words.

The way his muscular torso almost pressed against yours in the storage room took your breath away instantly. The faint scent of his cologne enveloped you as he leaned in closer, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Surrounded by crates and boxes of expensive alcoholic beverages, the world seemed to fade away. His hand brushed against yours while he was lifting it, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins as you met his gaze. Reaching above your head to envelop his slender fingers around the throat of the bottle that you could not reach before, he slowly moved closer to hover above your lips. You trembled under his gaze on your lips that were slightly parted; you were panting at this point, reminding you of the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of your forbidden romance.

"Just a moment longer."

His voice was a low murmur, a seductive whisper that sent a thrill racing through your veins. Despite the warning bells that rang in the recesses of your mind, you couldn't deny the pull he had over you, the magnetic attraction that drew you closer with each passing moment, his presence overwhelming in the confined space of the storage room. You knew that this was wrong, and yet, as his breath ghosted over your skin, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.

You would never deny it, but you could not accept it and return his affections the way he wished you would. This was temporary. You never planned to stay in Anubis for longer than needed. It was not where you belonged, and the criminal underbelly of the Bronx was not the life you had envisioned for yourself.

You could not understand what made him stay away from you for such a long time. But it certainly created an opening for you to re-think your next steps.

The twenty-first year of your life was dangerously close. You graduated from college that could be paid as your earnings in Anubis allowed so. Slowly, your little life in the farthest corner of Bronx would come to an end and you could move into the city. Get a job, maybe even a man and kids later. You wanted that white-picket-fence life and you knew that if you wanted to live it peacefully, staying here was not an option.

Your father was strongly against you leaving even though he never approved of the life you led in the dark of nights. He was not a saint either, his hands stained with the same sins that plagued the streets of the Bronx. There was no man in the whole New York City that would not know the name Kim Namjoon and your father was not an exception. Although, you never had the courage to mention his name and acknowledge that the man your father praises when he drinks his beer and plays poker with his drunkard old pals, is spending his evenings talking to you.

"I tell ya all, that Namjoon boy has got a head on his shoulders like no other," your father's voice boomed across the small kitchen.

"A real businessman, that one," a flicker of unease stirring in the pit of your stomach as you caught sight of the familiar glint of admiration in your step-father's eyes. Namjoon's name hung in the air between you, a silent reminder of the bond that had formed between you in the shadows of Anubis.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up running this whole city someday, right, Peaches?" You forced a smile, a wave of uncertainty washing over you as you considered the implications of your father's words. Namjoon's ambitions were as vast as the city itself, his influence reaching far beyond the confines of Anubis and the criminal underworld it symbolized.

"That's Mr. Jung's place, dad," you shook your head disapprovingly but with a smile on your face. His comrades laughed and shared similar ideas as he did though.

"That would be a boy for your Peaches," one of his comrades chuckled, the sound echoing off the walls of the cramped kitchen as they continued to sing Namjoon's praises after you only silently smiled again and opted not to respond. Your father however scoffed. He praised him, yes. But would he approve of his only child being with such a man like Namjoon is?

"When are you leaving for the city, young Missy?" Old man whose name you've never known asked with a cigarette in his mouth, looking over his cards rather than your way.

"Don't even support her in that big apple bullshit." You felt a pang of disappointment at his lack of support, but you were not surprised. You glanced around the kitchen, meeting the eyes of the men gathered there, each one offering their own opinion on your future. Some nodded in agreement with your step-father, while others remained silent, their expressions unreadable.

"Don't listen to those old men, child—"

"You got dreams, girl. Don't let nobody hold you back from chasing 'em.”

Truth to be told. The job, white fence, man and kids were not your dreams. You did not really know what to dream of, being restricted in such a dark part of the world that Bronx was for many, you did not even know why you hate your home like that. And you certainly weren’t even sure what is it to have a dream. But you hoped you’ll create some once you step your foot down, somewhere else than here. It doesn’t have to be Manhattan in particular. Anywhere but here is fine.

"Peaches, love, be sweet and bring us another beer from the fridge on your way to work, would ya?"

The request snapped you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the present moment. With a nod, you forced a smile, hiding the turmoil within as you moved to comply with his request. You were sure you'd be late to your shift at Anubis yet again, but you knew that Namjoon would turn a blind eye. He always did when it came to you.

But Namjoon was not present the moment you stepped into Anubis that night. As you made your way through the dimly lit interior of Anubis, a sense of foreboding settled over you like a heavy blanket. The usual hustle and bustle of the bar seemed muted, the air thick with tension as you approached the bar.

Mrs. Jung was still nowhere to be found and therefore, for a few months, Namjoon had replaced her. But tonight he was not here. He usually came around ten p.m. and stayed until you cleaned the very last table and closed the bar.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and set about your duties, determined to carry on despite the growing sense of unease that lingered in the air. But as the night wore on, the feeling of dread only intensified, leaving you on edge as you awaited Namjoon's return.

You watched the sun rising through the large windows that let the light come into the bar that was still beaming with a significant number of people of various ages. Despite your efforts to focus on your tasks, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. Where could he be? Why hadn't he shown up as usual? The questions nagged at you, fueling the unease that had settled in your stomach like a lead weight.

"Peaches?!" You heard the voice of one of the local and returning customers from the other side of the dancing floor. He was a friend. Or so you thought. He raised two fingers into the air and in a second you were already pouring the brownish liquid of Jung's Whiskey into the crystal-clear glasses.

You walked over to the table he was sitting at alongside a face you'd never seen before. Thanking you for the drinks, he pointed his thumb to the man sitting next to him.

"Peaches, Jinyoung—"

"Jinyoung, Peaches."

You offered a polite smile, acknowledging the introduction as you set down the drinks on the table. The unfamiliar man, Jinyoung, returned the gesture with a nod, his expression unreadable.

"Nice to meet you, Jinyoung," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

Jinyoung's gaze met yours, his eyes dark and probing as if searching for something within you. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort under his scrutiny, a feeling that only added to the unease already gnawing at your insides. Something about him set off alarm bells in your mind, a primal instinct warning you to tread carefully.

"What's a beauty like you doing tucked in Anubis?" Jinyoung asked, his voice smooth and velvety. You glanced around the dimly lit bar, suddenly aware of the eyes that seemed to linger on you from every corner, not understanding why.

"I... I work here," you said, a sudden shyness prevailing on the surface. You never really engaged with other men apart from Namjoon. For some reason, each time a man approached you, all of them quickly backed out, opting to not even look your way. For a long time, you did not know what you did wrong to chase them all away. But you got to know that night.

Jinyoung's lips quirked into a knowing smile, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I can offer you a better job, beauty," his words dripping with a seductive allure, and in that moment, you decided you needed to get back to work ASAP. He sounded like trouble you did not want on your last days here.

"I... I appreciate the offer, but I'm quite content here," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"You sure? I could have good use of someone like you, Peaches." Your heart pounded in your chest as Jinyoung's words washed over you. He played with your name on his tongue, and you had a hint that the job he was offering you would be something much worse than working in Anubis.

"Easy, Jinyoung, that's Namjoon's girl you're talking to." Jackson finally spoke up as if he heard your little begging in your head, but this was not what you expected him to say. Were you Namjoon's girl? Years went by and he merely brushed upon your hand with his own. There was no attempt to woo you directly. So how come everyone saw it this way—you as Namjoon's girl?

"I'm not Namjoon's girl—" you said, standing your ground for once. You saw Jackson's eyes widen and Jinyoung smirk at your remark.

"I'm no one's girl—"

"Nonetheless, thanks for the offer but I have to decline." Jinyoung's smirk widened at your words, his gaze flickering with amusement as if he found your defiance entertaining. A second later you were on your way back to the bar. He was Jackson's friend, but he was crude and he did not understand he ought to fuck off. The grip you suddenly felt on your upper arm was painful enough to make you wince, yanking you back as you squinted your eyes from the pain of his touch.

"What makes you say no if you're no one's slu—" your ears picked up his words before they were silenced. Forever. His last words were cut off by a deafening gunshot, leaving you frozen in shock. The sound of it still ringing in your ears as you turned to see the source of the chaos. There, standing with a smoking gun in his hand, was Namjoon, his expression unreadable as he stared down at Jinyoung's lifeless form. One side of Jackson's face was covered in blood that was his friend's, his shock mirroring your own. And you were scared to even move an inch.

Namjoon had just killed a man in cold blood, he shot him right in front of you. Without mercy. Panic surged through you as you realized the gravity of what had just transpired. The grip he had on your upper arm weakened yet remained even after his head fell down. It was a clear shot to the side of his head.

By now, half of the bar emptied, only those underworld rats stayed unfazed. Namjoon was always so calm, so collected. But now, he looked like a completely different person. The bar had fallen into an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of your own ragged breathing. You wanted to run, but your legs failed you, unable to move as the reality of the situation sank in.

"What—" your heart hammered in your chest as you searched for something, anything, to say, but the words caught in your throat, choked by the weight of the moment. Your whole body trembled uncontrollably, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. You reached to pull your hand away from Jinyoung's lifeless grip and while you struggled to do so, the scenery before you was not helping you to calm down. The side of his head blown up, you could see parts of his brain, immediately making you empty your stomach on the floor. The fact that Namjoon hadn't said a word since he literally came out of nowhere was not contributing to the situation either.

You heard his smooth voice but it was too muffled at this point. He was giving orders to Jackson, but you did not understand a single word coming out of his mouth. Your head was spinning and the room felt like a carousel.

"Why would you—" you began to stutter, your voice barely a whisper. The question died on your lips, swallowed by the overwhelming sense of dread that hung heavy in the air. Namjoon had just committed an act of unspeakable violence, ending a man's life without a second thought. Nothing will be the same ever again. You stayed out of all the illegalness that surrounded Anubis on purpose. What eyes don't see, heart doesn't hurt. What you don't know, can't hurt you. But now you eye-witnessed such brutality and he won't let you walk away to the other end of the rainbow.

You did not expect him to hear you nor even answer your remark, but of course, Kim Namjoon was always here to listen to you.

"He touched you."

The words hit you like a physical blow, jolting you out of your stunned silence. He wasn't just stating a fact; he was issuing a warning, a chilling reminder of the consequences of crossing him. Looking him in the eye, he looked like a possessive maniac, like someone determined to protect what he perceived as his.

"He didn't—" you began, your voice faltering under the weight of Namjoon's scrutiny. Yet you stopped yourself to think whether Jinyoung's intentions were harmless or not. You remembered the way Jinyoung had leered at you, his touch lingering where it shouldn't have.

"No one can touch you, Peaches."

You felt a chill run down your spine as the weight of his words settled over you. It wasn't just a declaration; it was a promise, a vow to protect you at any cost. But beneath the surface, you sensed something darker, something primal and possessive that sent chills down your body.

You were paralyzed by the intensity of his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from his. Your mind raced with a million thoughts and questions, but you knew better than to voice them.

That night you started to hate each and every gaze he threw your way when you were working, all the men running away after uttering a single word to you, and all the remarks about you being Namjoon's girl.

But were you ready to be Namjoon's girl? To be part of his world?

You sit up, the sheets clinging to your skin like a shroud, and confront the spectres that linger above. Even after some weeks, you still cannot shake off the tremor you've experienced that night.

"Peaches?!" You heard your father's voice. You were hidden in the confines of your small room for days now, coming out only to take a bottle of water, and even that you managed to minimize by taking the whole six-pack. You couldn't bring yourself to respond.

The look in Namjoon's eyes, the sound of the gunshot ringing in your ears, the sight of Jinyoung's lifeless body—all of it was seared into your mind, haunting you like a relentless spectre. You needed some time. But it was running out quickly.

Lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts, you remained silent, grappling with the weight of the choices that lay before you. You packed your bag last night, all the cash stuffed inside at various places, just to be turned right back on your heel by two muscular men you'd never met before. The color they wore was emerald green, and you quickly understood that those were Jung soldiers, if you could call them that.

Your father was similarly confused. His eyes were darting between you and the soldiers as he struggled to make sense of the situation. So here you are, awaiting when he will decide to collect you. What is he waiting for? You knew that your time was running out; you just didn't know exactly when it would run out.

In that moment that night, you missed the Namjoon you thought he was. All you could see was a stranger, a dangerous man whose actions had shattered your illusions and left you reeling in their wake. Yes, you knew his line of work, but you'd rather not see it with your own two eyes. You'd rather stay oblivious to who he really was just to keep the picture of the Namjoon you knew hanging a little bit longer.

"You can't hide there forever." And you certainly did not plan to, but coming out to see your father's worried face after he sees how disheveled you look could wait for another day or so. You did not know what Namjoon intended to achieve by making you a prisoner in your own home.

Every fiber of your being wanted to hate Namjoon, but you did not know whether that was even possible with how smart that man was with his mouth.

This cage of fear and uncertainty made you uneasy. The wind that forcefully closed your window awoke you from your thoughts. You lived on the second floor of an old block of apartments. You moved toward the old rusted window, cautiously pushing it open again. The cool night air rushed to meet your cheeks, and you closed your eyes to feel it.

Peering down, you assessed the drop. It wasn't too high, and the fire escape just below offered a feasible route. Why had it not occurred to you earlier?

"Peaches, please, talk to me. They've been saying that you can't go out and should wait for sajangnim Kim."

Your father's voice was strained, a mix of concern and frustration. You hesitated, torn between the urge to reassure him and the pressing need to just run for the hills before it was too late for you.

What you realized in the moment, listening to his muffled pleas, was that this might be the last time you'd see him. You couldn't come back to the Bronx ever again. Nor New York. You weren't sure exactly what the magnitude of Jung's power was that Namjoon shared, but you had the hunch that wherever you'd hide in this state, he would find you.

"Dad?" you said softly, your voice barely a whisper. You felt a lump in your throat, the weight of the impending goodbye pressing down on you. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

"I'm here, Peaches," your father responded, his voice breaking slightly. "Please, come out. We'll figure this out." Tears welled up in your eyes as you clung to the closed door.

"It's no go, Dad."

"Please, just open the door." His voice was closer now, just outside the door.

You glanced around your room, grabbing your packed bag and slipping it over your shoulder.

"I love you, Dad. I'm sorry. Bye—"

With a final, sorrowful glance toward the door, you slipped out of the window, your feet finding purchase on the metal grating of the fire escape. You descended quickly, not daring to look back. The metal stairs creaked under your weight, each step taking you further from the life you knew. You needed to disappear.

You had no shoes on, and the white tank top clung to your skin, outlining your curves and breasts. The night air was cool against your exposed skin, a harsh contrast to the warmth of your tears. The metal of the stairs felt rough under your bare feet, but you pushed forward until you were all the way down.

Catching your breath and glancing around the dimly lit alleyway, the city felt oppressively silent, the only sound your own ragged breathing. As you took a step forward, a soft scoff resonated in your ears, leaving you standing there frozen. The man was totally invisible in the dark shadows of the alley between the buildings until he pulled out his zippo lighter to light a cigarette, illuminating his face. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Where are you headed, Peaches?"

The man who was casually leaning against the cold bricks wasn't unfamiliar to you. You, as a barmaid at Anubis, had the extravagant privilege to meet four out of the big seven. Kim Taehyung being one of them, standing here in front of you.

"Mr. Kim," you breathed, dread pooling in your stomach. You were on a first-name basis only with Namjoon even though they all scolded you, especially your lady boss, for being way too formal and polite, making them feel older than they actually are. Truth be told, you were putting some distance between them, but you utterly failed to do so with Namjoon, and here you are, on the run.

"I'm your family now, Peaches," Taehyung said, his voice dripping with mockery. "You should start getting used to that, so drop the mister finally."

You gritted your teeth, trying to steady your nerves as you faced Taehyung. "Taehyung," you corrected yourself, though the informal address felt wrong on your tongue.

"That's better, what a good girl you can be," he said with a smirk, taking a step closer. His presence felt suffocating, a reminder of the dangerous world you had stumbled into.

"Why are you here, Taehyung?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

"Why are you here, Peaches?" Taehyung countered, his tone filled with amusement. You bit the inside of your mouth, feeling the nerves tighten their grip on you.

"Getting some fresh air," you replied, trying to sound casual despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Ah, yes, because nothing says 'fresh air' like sneaking out of your window in the dead of night," he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you. "I just needed to clear my head," you said, hoping he would buy your flimsy excuse.

"You are not planning to do anything stupid now, Peaches, right?" You paused, considering your response carefully. Taehyung's tone, though casual, carried a hint of warning that sent a shiver down your spine. You slightly shook your head to show dismissal.

"Namjoon-hyung said you looked pretty shaken up that night." You couldn't help but tense at Taehyung's mention of Namjoon, a surge of apprehension coursing through you. You had tried to bury the memories of that night deep within you, but they continued to resurface, haunting your every thought.

"I'm fine," you replied, forcing a tight smile. "Just had a rough night, that's all."

"It looks like you're about to have another one to me." Your heart skipped a beat at Taehyung's ominous remark, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. Despite his casual demeanor, there was an underlying tension in the air that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rising sense of unease.

"Unzipped duffle bag, dollar bills fell from it while you were going down, that looks like you were very eager to get that fresh air."

"I... I was just going for a walk," you stammered, scrambling for an excuse. Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his gaze unwavering.

"Without putting your shoes on?"

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Taehyung's scrutiny bearing down on you. "I couldn't sleep," you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I needed some fresh air to clear my head.” You repeat yourself, but you know that you can’t fool him no matter what.

Taehyung's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he shrugged, as if dismissing the matter altogether. "Well, you certainly know how to make an exit," he remarked, his smirk never faltering.

You forced a weak smile, trying to mask the unease bubbling inside you. "Guess I've always had a flair for the dramatic," you quipped, though the words rang hollow in your ears.

Taehyung chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "That you do, Peaches. That you do," he said cryptically, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

"You know, Namjoon doesn't like it when his... family goes missing," he said, the emphasis on 'family' making you flinch. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a lazy stream.

You clenched your fists, feeling trapped. "I'm not missing," you said, your voice firmer than before. "I'm right here."

"I'd probably get a head start if I were you." Taehyung nodded slowly, as if considering your words.

Your heart pounded in your chest. "A head start?"

He took another drag, the smirk never leaving his lips. "I'm not a monster, Peaches. I'll give you a five-minute head start before I come after you."

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He was actually giving you a chance to run, but this time you would know someone was after you. You glanced around, calculating your options. The streets were empty, but you knew they wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Five minutes, Peaches. Starting now."

You turned and ran, your bare feet slapping against the pavement. The adrenaline coursed through your veins as you sprinted down the alley, knowing that Taehyung's smirk was etched in your mind.

You didn't know where you were going, but you knew you had to get as far away as possible. Everything blurred as you pushed yourself to run faster, the sound of your heartbeat drowning out everything else.

If you hide well, he can't find you, can he? You just have to find yourself a place to hide until morning and then you can wait till sunrise, get to the airport and fly to the first destination that will pop up.

You could feel the cold concrete scraping your feet, but the pain was a distant echo compared to the urgency of escape. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Taehyung's figure emerging from the shadows, but for now, you were alone.

You could feel the cold concrete scraping your feet, but the pain was a distant echo compared to the urgency of escape. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Taehyung's figure emerging from the shadows, but for now, you were alone.

The five minutes neared their end, and you knew you couldn't stay hidden forever. You had to keep moving, keep putting distance between you and Taehyung. Peering through the leaves, you scanned the area, your mind racing through possible routes and hiding spots.

"If I don’t bring you back, he'll come instead, Peaches!" Taehyung's voice echoed through, taunting you.

"You don't want to anger him, do you now?"

You needed a plan, and fast. Glancing around, you noticed a narrow passageway between two buildings, just wide enough for you to squeeze through. It might lead you to a different part of the neighborhood, giving you a chance to lose Taehyung in the labyrinth of backstreets.

You bolted towards the passageway, your bare feet slapping against the cold pavement. The alley was narrow and dark, but you pushed forward, heart pounding in your chest. Every shadow seemed to move, every sound amplified in the stillness of the night.

"They all run at first, Peaches—" Taehyung's voice echoed, closer now. "You're cute thinking you have a chance to get away."

It was way too narrow even if you put your bag down from your shoulder and dragged it as you tried to squeeze through. Every shadow seemed to move, every sound amplified in the stillness of the night, and you were scared that he would get to you soon. You knew he was out there, somewhere, searching for you.

"Although, my mind is troubled. Why, out of all of them, do you run?" There was a pause, then a chuckle.

You pushed yourself harder, feeling the rough brick walls scrape against your skin. You needed to keep moving, but you also needed a moment to think. The airport was too far, especially when they were already looking for you. You thought you were clever to disappear through the window as if you were in some cheesy cliché movie.

"Namjoon-hyung was always good to you, wasn't he?" He was. Until the moment someone else's brain was blown up by him right in front of you, simply because of his possessiveness while he never made you two exclusive. Or at least you thought so, as it showed—you were claimed by him sooner than you actually realized. You felt the panic rising in your chest, threatening to overwhelm you.

"You have no reason to run, Peaches," Taehyung's voice was taunting, echoing off the walls. "Namjoon-hyung will be so disappointed when he finds out how far you've gone." You ignored the majority of his words, focusing on finding a way out.

You closed your eyes and tried to think harder this time. The old train yard—bingo—it was on the outskirts of the city. It was abandoned, a place where few people ventured. If you could make it there, you might be able to find a boxcar to hide in until morning.

"Family doesn't abandon family, Peaches!" You heard his voice again, this time more distant.

Emerging from the passageway, you found yourself in a small courtyard. It was littered with old furniture and discarded trash; the smell was awful, but you didn't have time to dwell on that.

You listened intently, straining to hear any sign of Taehyung. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional bark of a dog.

You stuck to the shadows, moving as quietly as possible. The train yard was a long way off, but it was your best shot at staying out of immediate reach. Or so you thought.

You couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every rustle of leaves, every distant footstep made you jump. You forced yourself to stay calm, to focus on the path ahead. Panicking would only slow you down.

The city's edge came into view, the silhouette of the train yard looming in the distance. You quickened your pace, the sight of your potential sanctuary giving you a burst of energy. You crossed the threshold into the yard, the rusted tracks and abandoned cars offering a twisted sense of comfort.

An old boxcar with the door slightly ajar beckoned to you. You slipped inside, the smell of rust and decay filling your nostrils. You closed the door behind you, plunging the space into darkness. It was cramped and musty, but it was hidden.

Sinking to the floor, you allowed yourself a moment to breathe. Your body ached, your feet throbbed, but you had made it. For now, you were safe. You could only hope that Taehyung would give up the chase, or at least lose your trail long enough for you to figure out your next move.

The sound of gravel crunching outside the boxcar woke you up and consequently made your heart jump into your throat. You held your breath, straining to listen. The footsteps were deliberate and slow, echoing through the stillness of the night.

You held your breath, trying to remain as quiet as possible. The footsteps drew closer, each crunch of gravel sending a shockwave through your body. Your mind raced with possibilities. Was it Taehyung? Or perhaps someone else stumbling upon your hiding spot?

"I seriously don't understand why you didn't throw her over your shoulder and take her back to her room." The older male shot him a glare.

"Oh come the fuck on, you're one to talk." It was Taehyung's voice, laced with frustration and annoyance.

“I did not lose her, I gave her choice and she chose wrong, she’ll be back though, in no time.” The younger one scoffed and Taehyung quirked his brows, evidently amused by his brother. 

"Well, at least that was my woman I lost and not our Hyung's." The tattooed heartthrob spat his friend's way when he heard his scoff.

"This isn't really my job. I'm only doing this because Namjoon cares about her too much to leave someone incompetent to watch her until he'll come back."

“Or you’re the only one without a woman, Tae.” You heard a little thump as if he jokingly punched him and the other voice chuckled. But first and foremost –

Namjoon's away. He did not come for you as he's away, and if away means out of the state, you have a bigger chance to make an exit than you originally thought.

Seeing him would only make things worse. Listening to his sweet melodies of words would make you doubt what Taehyung initiated—you have no reason to run. Apart from that, you do. He was deeply entrenched in the world of organized crime, his life a constant dance between power and peril. While his charming demeanor and enigmatic presence had drawn you in, you knew that his lifestyle came with its own set of risks and consequences.

He operated in the shadows, his actions dictated by a code of loyalty to his comrades and ruthlessness towards his enemies. At least that's what you heard people talk about the Jungs and their family man.

You didn't think there was room for innocence. But were you innocent? You had blood on your hands. Jinyoung's. You had been complicit in his demise. While it wasn't you who pulled the trigger, you were the motive.

As the voices grew louder, you strained to make out what they were saying. The sound of footsteps approached the boxcar, each one sending a jolt of fear through you. Were they getting closer? Were they about to open the door and drag you out into the open?

"I did not expect her to play the game that well, I have to give her that," Taehyung remarked, his voice tinged with admiration. Your heart raced as you listened to their conversation.

"Smart, just like he is."

The footsteps came to a stop just outside the boxcar, and you braced yourself for the door to swing open at any moment. Every nerve in your body was on edge, ready to flee at the first sign of danger.

But instead of the door creaking open, the voices began to fade away, the gravel crunching underfoot growing softer as they moved further away. Relief washed over you in waves, but you remained cautious, waiting until the sound of their footsteps had disappeared entirely before allowing yourself to relax.

You stayed hidden in the darkness of the boxcar, unsure of how much time had passed. Eventually, the adrenaline began to ebb, leaving you exhausted and drained. You were scared that they were waiting outside and the moment you decided to move places would be fatal for you.

The growl in your stomach was loud, echoing in the empty boxcar. You hadn't eaten in what felt like an eternity, and the gnawing hunger was beginning to take its toll. Despite the fear that they might be lying in wait, you knew you couldn't stay here forever or you'd die of hunger very soon.

Despite the fear that they might be lying in wait, you knew you couldn't stay here forever. Peeking through the small gap, you scanned the area. The night was still, and there was no sign of Taehyung or anyone else.

Slipping out of the boxcar, you kept to the shadows, moving quietly and quickly. You needed to find food, but more importantly, you needed to find a safer place to hide. If you couldn't reach the airport, you'd have to wait somewhere until you were considered off the radar. Would Namjoon lose his interest if he knew you were gone for good? You hoped so, but you also strongly doubted that. The man had had his eyes set on you for three years or so, without ever losing interest in you.

The city was vast, with many nooks and crannies where you could potentially evade capture, but you moved in the dead of the night cautiously. Slowly closing the distance between the convenience store at least ten blocks from your home, its lights were still on and you thanked the almighty, or more so the 24 hour market in front of you.

The store seemed deserted, only a shabby-looking man in his mid-thirties sitting behind the counter, half asleep. You slipped inside, quickly grabbing some food and water before leaving to pay at the counter. When the doorbell rang indicating that a customer entered the small store, you froze in place.

You ducked behind a shelf, hoping the dim lighting and cluttered aisles would conceal you. Peering through a gap between products, you saw a figure enter. You may be paranoid but you wouldn't take the risk when you had managed to not be caught for what seemed like hours. You knew better.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound of your heartbeat almost louder than the growling stomach from earlier. You clutched the food tightly, muscles tense, waiting for the perfect moment to quickly throw the few bucks on the counter and make your leave. You straightened a little.

It wasn't him. It was just a person that resembled him. With a rush of relief, you moved to the counter. The shabby-looking clerk barely glanced up as you placed your items down and reached into your pocket for the money. Just as you were about to pay, a hand slammed the money down on the counter in front of you. Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes widened.

You looked up slowly, dread pooling in your stomach. Taehyung stood beside you, his eyes locking onto yours with a cold, triumphant smile.

"My treat," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with mock politeness. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The clerk, oblivious to the tension, lazily rang up the items and handed the change to Taehyung. He pocketed it without breaking eye contact with you.

You acted rather quickly after you regained your senses, but the exit was blocked by the man you saw earlier. How could you not recognize the famous heartthrob of this decade, Jeon Jungkook? Only a few people knew of his connection to the Jungs, Kims, and Parks.

"Going somewhere?" Jungkook's voice was smooth and exactly identical to the one you heard outside of the boxcar, but there was an edge to it that sent chills down your spine. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his dark eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam.

Panic surged through you as you realized your escape route was cut off. You glanced around the store, searching for another way out, but Taehyung's hand clamped down on your arm, his grip firm and unyielding.

The clerk did not care to intervene; he knew their faces and what they represented. One girl was not worth the trouble for him.

"Let's go," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. You had no choice but to follow, your mind racing with thoughts of escape. As you stepped out of the store, the chilly night air hit you, a stark contrast to the suffocating presence of Taehyung beside you. You scanned the street for any potential way out, but Taehyung's grip on your arm tightened, steering you toward a nearby alley.

You stumbled slightly, trying to keep pace with him. The alley was dark and narrow, the perfect place for someone to disappear. Desperation surged through you, fueling your determination. You had to find a way out of this.

"You lasted more than I expected, Peaches. I have to give you that." You fought to suppress the shiver that threatened to run down your spine. Taehyung's voice, usually smooth and melodic, now held an edge of something darker, something sinister.

"But it's time to go home."

The weight of his intentions pressed down on you like a heavy stone. You did not know what home he was speaking of. Your home? Namjoon's home? You'd never been there; you couldn't know what home he meant. But something told you that wherever he'd take you, "home" would be a gilded cage, a place of confinement disguised as comfort.

You remained silent, your jaw clenched in defiance as you continued to walk, your eyes darting around the alley for any sign of escape. But every corner seemed to lead to another dead end, and the walls closed in around you like a vice.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the desperation hit your nerves. Taehyung's grip tightened slightly, as if warning you against any further attempts at escape.

"There was no need to run, Peaches." Wasn't there? You stopped to think for a minute. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

With a sudden burst of strength, you twisted out of Taehyung's grip and bolted. The sound of his shout echoed behind you, but you didn't look back. You darted through the maze of backstreets, your only goal to put as much distance between you and Taehyung as possible.

Reaching a dead end, you spotted a fire escape ladder. Without a second thought, you began climbing, your fingers slipping on the cold metal. You reached the rooftop, not daring to look back as you sprinted across the gravel. The cityscape stretched before you, a chaotic playground of rooftops and danger.

You leaped from one building to the next, each landing jarring your bones, but you couldn't stop. You heard Taehyung's voice calling your name, a mix of frustration and anger, but you didn't dare slow down. You reached the edge of a particularly wide gap between buildings and hesitated, just a split second too long.

A strong arm wrapped around your waist, yanking you back. You thrashed, but the grip was unyielding. Jungkook's face came into view, his expression grim. He was faster than Taehyung, and you knew your chances to outrun him were slight, but you still hoped.

"You can't run forever, Peaches," he said quietly, almost regretfully. You could hear Taehyung's leather boots stomping against the roof's concrete and his ragged breath in unison.

You struggled, kicking and clawing, but he held firm. Your heart sank as the reality of the situation set in. Just then, you heard the uncomfortable digital sound of the Motorola flip phone that was in Taehyung's hand once he stopped in front of you.

"Hmm?" Taehyung answered the phone and ended the gut-wrenching sound. You knew who was on the other side of the line. Jungkook still held you securely, his eyes never leaving yours.

There was a pause, and then he handed you the phone.

"Your Mr. Man wants to speak to you."

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of the phone heavy in your hand. With a deep breath, you brought it to your ear, steeling yourself for the inevitable confrontation with Namjoon.

"Hello?" Your voice trembled slightly, betraying the fear and uncertainty swirling within you.

"You're losing sleep, love," he said, his tone smooth but laced with a menacing undertone. You took a shaky breath.

"S-so are you." He chuckled. You bit the inside of your lip out of nerves.

"I'd sleep better if you came back to me like the good girl I know you are."

The mixture of his charm and underlying threat was intoxicating and terrifying.

"I can't, Namjoon," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I can't live like this anymore. I never wanted to live like this, and you knew that."

"Life is just about to begin for you, love—" he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Our life," he added, and your grip tightened around the phone.

"What does that even mean?" you demanded, a mix of anger and desperation coloring your words.

"It means," he began, his voice smooth yet chilling, "that whatever you fear, we'll figure this out together."

"Please, Namjoon," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. "Let me go. I can't. I just can't," you cried out.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and you held your breath, hoping against hope that he might relent. Your heart pounded with a mix of fear and helplessness.

"Freedom is an illusion, love," he said, almost gently. "The only freedom you'll ever have is with me. Now, come back. We'll talk this through, and I promise you, everything will be fine. Just trust me."

"Namjoon—"

"Peaches—" he quickly interrupted your attempt to plead again.

"Don't make me take harsher measures to ensure you'll come back to me." His tone grew colder, the underlying threat unmistakable.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" you asked, a tremor in your voice.

"You know what I can do. It would be a shame if the same thing happened to someone else you care about." His words hung in the air, heavy with menace.

You looked at Jungkook and Taehyung, their faces impassive yet resolute. They were ready to enforce Namjoon's will, no matter the cost.

"Why are you doing this to me?" you asked, voice quivering.

"We can talk about that once you come home," Namjoon replied, his voice smooth but unyielding.

"Namjoon, please..." you started, desperation lacing your words.

"Enough, Peaches," he cut you off sharply. "You know what's at stake. I expect you back within an hour. Hand the phone to Taehyung."

With a heavy heart, you handed the phone back to Taehyung. He took it, his eyes filled with a mix of pity, but you didn't think it was genuine. You felt Jungkook's grip loosen slightly, but not enough to let you go.

Taehyung listened to Namjoon for a moment, then nodded. "Understood," he said before hanging up. He looked at you, his expression resigned.

"Let's go," he said softly.

You don't even know how you managed to fall asleep in the car. They took your bag, draped a warm blanket over you, and sat you down on the back seat. You did not protest anymore, even though the thought of jumping out of the car went through your head briefly.

You thought of your father, your friends, and everyone you ever met and cared for when he took the ultimate move that would make you leave everything in a heartbeat. You don't want more blood on your hands.

At the same time, you could not understand why Namjoon would take such harsh measures. This wasn't the Namjoon you knew—heck, you don't even know if you ever knew that man.

The lavish room surrounding you was magnificent and screaming one name: Namjoon. Even his scent was clinging to every single piece of the room. The silk sheets clung to your skin, and you couldn't help but close your eyes again. The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a golden hue across the room.

You could hear the audible difference in your surroundings. The Bronx had a distinctive hum, a chaotic symphony of life and struggle. But this—this was different. The sounds outside the open window were unmistakably Manhattan. The distant buzz of traffic, the occasional honk of a horn, and the muffled chatter of people far below created a stark contrast to the quiet tension inside.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. Every moment spent here felt like a betrayal to the life you once knew, the people you once loved. But escape wasn't just about physical freedom—it was about breaking free from the psychological chains Namjoon had wrapped around you.

You did not know whether you weren't running for the hills now because this oddly feels like you are meant to be here or because you don't know if you should. You spent a lot of time rolling around and thinking about this. You had not come to a conclusion yet. You'd only decided that you would give him the courtesy to talk after all the years that he and his family supported you by giving you a job.

With that resolve, you climbed out of bed, feeling the weight of silk sheets slipping away. The cold floor sent a shiver up your spine, bringing you fully awake. You made your way to the bathroom, the reflection in the mirror staring back at you. You need a haircut, maybe even a new hair color.

The shower's hot water provided a temporary refuge, washing away the grime and tension of the past few days. After drying off, you dressed in clothes Namjoon had laid out for you—an unspoken reminder of his control.

You entered the kitchen, where the aroma of breakfast hung in the air. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the rich aroma of bacon and eggs, momentarily distracting you. You were starving.

As you moved further into the room, a sudden noise made you jump. Startled, you turned to see a figure in a white chef's uniform bustling about the kitchen. He looked up, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw you.

"Good morning, Misses Kim," he said with a polite nod. "I didn't expect you to be up so early.” The title he used sent a shiver down your spine. Misses Kim. It was as if the walls were closing in, suffocating you with the weight of an identity that wasn’t yours to claim. You overlooked yourself and your attire.

You could see your bra-less breasts and perky nipples through that white tanktop, but the chef was trained well enough to not look that way. He would most likely be beheaded by Namjoon if he would dare to look that way.

"Good morning," you replied, your voice tinged with a mix of nerves and hunger. You forced a small smile.

The chef, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, set down the spatula he was holding and wiped his hands on a towel. "My name is Seo Kang-joon, Misses Kim. I'm Sajangnim's private chef—" you figured that much. Of course that man has a private chef when he cannot boil a potato for the love of God.

"He tasked me to make you some breakfast and tell you he'll be with you shortly," he explained, gesturing to the array of food laid out on the counter.

You nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Your stomach growled audibly, and despite the chaos in your mind, the food before you was an undeniable lure. You picked up a piece of toast, buttering it slowly as Kang-joon resumed his work.

"How long have you been working for Namjoon?" you asked, trying to fill the silence with something other than your own anxious thoughts.

Kang-joon glanced up from the stove, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "About three years now," he replied. "I've switched with my Appa; he was working for the Kims for two generations and now it's my turn—"

"That's a long time," you said, taking a bite of the toast, the warmth of the food providing a small comfort.

"Yes, it is," he agreed, his voice gentle. "Namjoon is a good employer, he's always treated us fairly. And he cares about you a great deal—"

"I've seen you before, didn't I?" you interrupted, suddenly recalling a moment that had slipped through your mind like sand.

"At the private party last month. You were serving food, right?"

Kang-joon nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes, that was me. I remember seeing you there, although you were quite busy too—"

You were supposed to be waitressing the tables, plural, yet you only waitressed one table that night. As per usual.

"Yep, that was my reality, I guess," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Before all of this."

Kang-joon's expression turned somber, and he stopped cooking momentarily.

"Namjoon doesn't let anyone near you, but I've seen how happy you make him. He's different around you." Of course he thinks so. You don't blame him for his inability to see through this. It's not his place.

You fell silent, pondering his words. The chaos of Namjoon's life and the dark undercurrents that surrounded him felt suffocating. "But at what cost?" you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

"He means well—" he paused his thought and got silent, and you knew that means only one thing.

"I appreciate your loyalty to him," you said, forcing a smile that felt brittle on your lips.

"Good morning, love," he said, his voice deep and commanding. His eyes darted between you and Kang-joon, who stood with a spatula in hand, caught in the moment. "I hope you're both having a pleasant chat."

Kang-joon bowed slightly, and you could see the way he was careful to keep his composure, even as the atmosphere shifted with Namjoon's presence. "I was just finishing up breakfast, Sajangnim," he said politely. "Miss Kim and I were discussing your—"

"Thank you, Kang-joon," Namjoon interrupted, his tone suggesting a mixture of gratitude and an underlying tension. "I can take it from here."

The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken words. You looked at him, wanting to scream, wanting to run, wanting to demand answers.

"Did you sleep well?" Namjoon asked, his voice softer now, as if he was trying to breach the walls that had begun to rise between you.

You nursed your coffee in the black ceramic mug while you shrugged, keeping the answer with spice in it for yourself just yet. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, you could see the cracks in his façade when you didn't answer.

"I see... silent treatment," he gulped down, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. Pouring himself a cup of coffee too, he leaned on the counter right in front of you. You took his appearance in. He got a buzz cut, creamy satin shirt tucked in leather pants. A few of the buttons were undone, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest.

"Is that really how you want to start the day?" he provoked. You set the mug down, the clink of ceramic against marble echoing in the tension-filled kitchen.

"Did you ask yourself the same question when you threatened me?" you shot back, your voice rising slightly as the memories flooded back. The anger surged within you, igniting a fire that had been smoldering since the moment you woke up in his penthouse.

Namjoon's expression shifted, the warmth in his eyes replaced by a flicker of defensiveness.

"Well, you for some reason seemed too adamant that you needed to patrol the streets of Bronx by running away from me. I know you too damn well, Peaches; I know where you were headed."

The words stung, each syllable laced with accusation and an unsettling truth. Your heart raced, the anger bubbling just below the surface.

"You know fucking shit, Namjoon—"

"Oppa," he jumped in, his voice firm, yet tinged with a note of caution.

You inhaled sharply, the familiar term slicing through the tension like a knife. It reminded you of the intimate moments you once shared. "You've lost that honorific the moment you decided to threaten me and kill that man right in front of my eyes!"

Namjoon's jaw clenched, and you could see the conflict brewing beneath his composed exterior.

"You don't understand the kind of world I'm in. We protect ours."

"Protect?" you spat, feeling the heat of betrayal wash over you.

"I'm a person who deserves to make her own choices—" He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing.

"What choices are you making? Running off into the night like it's some kind of adventure? You think that's brave? I refuse to let you get hurt because you're unhappy with my decisions."

"Oh yeah, like something would happen to me—"

"You are my woman, and people know that you are, Peaches!" he declared, his voice rising with intensity, as if the weight of his words was meant to command respect from the universe itself.

Your heart raced at his proclamation, a mix of anger and something softer twisting in your gut.

"The fuck you're talking about, Namjoon?" You snapped, your voice echoing off the sleek kitchen walls. Anger surged within you, fueled by the sheer audacity of his claim.

"Not fucking once did you say that we ought to be official one day—" you shot back, your voice dripping with disbelief.

"You act like I'm some sort of possession, something you can just claim without any conversation or commitment!" Namjoon's expression hardened, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes.

"You need to stop pretending like we don't have a future because you're scared of the past," he said, smashing the mug down on the counter. Namjoon's jaw tightened, and the conflict in his eyes was palpable.

"Since I was seventeen, not fucking once have you made your intentions strictly clear, Namjoon! The fuck am I doing here then?!" The words burst from your lips, raw and unfiltered, echoing in the tense space between you.

He ran a hand over his face, visibly struggling to keep his composure.

"I thought you knew. I thought you felt it too," he replied, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I thought it was understood that it was a matter of time."

"Understood?" you scoffed, incredulity seeping into your tone. "You think that just because you've made me a part of your life, I should automatically know my place? That's not how it works!"

"I was waiting till you turned twenty-one—"

"Age of consent is eighteen in this state, Namjoon, keep that bullshit to yourself." Namjoon's expression darkened at your words, and you could see the frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"So you would rather have me taking you as wife and putting a baby into you the moment you turned eighteen, am I right?"

The air crackled with tension as Namjoon's words hung in the space between you, a provocation that sent shockwaves through your body. You felt your breath hitch, a mixture of shock and anger coursing through you.

"So that's the plan now?" you lowered your voice.

His expression softened for a moment, and you could see the conflict etched across his features. "I thought you'd want that kind of future with me, Peaches. I thought we were on the same page from day one."

Despite Namjoon's willingness to talk, the remnants of fear and frustration churned within you, threatening to spill over. You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. Your heart raced, the urge to flee growing stronger. He reached out, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly.

"I love you, baby."

Your heart pounded in your chest at his words, a tumultuous blend of emotions crashing over you. You stood up from the stool you were sitting at, calmly aiming for the door. You didn't know what you were doing with this lame attempt to flee.

"Hey—" he shouted, but you did not stop. You could feel Namjoon's gaze burning into your back as you moved toward the door, his loud steps right behind you making you speed up the process.

You couldn't stop. The need to escape overwhelmed you, propelling you forward. You flung the door open, the sharp sound echoing in the silence that followed.

"Peaches!" he shouted again, his voice rising with urgency and desperation. The door rattled on its hinges as he leaned against it, trying to process what had just happened.

"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He knew he had pushed too hard, but he couldn't help it.

You trembled under him, still facing the door while his arm was outstretched, palms on the door, blocking you from opening it again. Your breath quickened as you stood there, the cool metal of the doorknob biting into your palm. You could feel Namjoon's presence behind you.

"Let me go, Namjoon," you demanded, your voice steady but wavering just slightly. The pounding of your heart felt like a war drum, urging you to flee, to escape this suffocating moment.

"You would come back to me nonetheless." You turned around to face him, your expression a blend of defiance and vulnerability.

"What makes you think I would?" you shot back, turning slightly to glance over your shoulder at him. The intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken, a mixture of anger and confusion swirling within you.

"Because you love me back—" He leaned down, not giving you time to argue, and seized the chance to crash his lips down on yours for the first time.

His hands grabbed onto your hips, pulling you closer, the heat from his body seeping into yours. Your heart raced, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as his tongue danced with yours in a heated embrace.

Namjoon's fingers dug into your skin, his grip firm yet tender, as if he was trying to brand you as his own. The kiss was raw, primal, and all-consuming, leaving you both breathless and wanting more.

Namjoon's eyes locked onto yours, the fire within them burning brighter than ever before. With a low growl, he pulled you close again, his lips crashing down on yours once more as the world around you continued to spin.

As the kiss broke, Namjoon pulled away, his eyes burning with intensity.

"I'm not done being angry," you said, your voice low but unwavering. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it both thrilled and terrified you.

Namjoon's brow furrowed slightly, surprise mingling with the intensity in his gaze. "I know that," he replied, his tone shifting, becoming more serious.

"Good," you spoke right to his lips, your heart still racing from the kiss. The mix of confusion and desire swirled within you, and you struggled to keep your composure.

The cognac brown couch was very comfortable, its soft cushions inviting you to sink in and relax. A glass coffee table with sleek chrome legs stood in front of it, its surface adorned with a stack of art books, a few scattered magazines, and a vintage crystal ashtray. So Namjoon.

A large, floor-to-ceiling window occupied one side of the room, offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. A Persian rug, with intricate patterns in deep reds and blues, covered the polished hardwood floor, adding a touch of warmth and history to the contemporary space. Again, so Namjoon.

He was crouched down by the fireplace that dominated the place, his back to you. The fire cast a warm, flickering glow across the room, its light dancing over Namjoon's broad shoulders. He started the fire because he saw you shivering. But that had nothing to do with you being cold, and deep down he knew that too. He seemed lost in thought, his fingers idly tracing patterns on the floor as he stared into the flames.

You walked over to him, your footsteps silent on the plush rug. As you approached, Namjoon turned slightly, his eyes meeting yours. You sat down next to him.

"So, how do you imagine all this working?" you asked, your voice gentle yet tinged with the underlying frustration you felt.

Namjoon sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "Just like it did till now."

You frowned slightly, shaking your head.

"So I'm gonna go back to working in Anubis and you are going to keep shooting everyone who gets closer to me?!" you said, a bit harsher than you intended. Namjoon's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration.

"You are not coming back to work in Anubis, let's start with that," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

"My oh my, now you want to take the source of my income too." Namjoon shifted slightly, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes.

"You're my woman, Peaches. You don't need to work for money anymore," he started, his voice steady and filled with conviction.

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "You can't be serious."

"Women in our clan don't work for decades, my woman is not gonna work either. At least not like that—" You narrowed your eyes, feeling a mixture of disbelief and intrigue at his declaration.

"That's not who I am, Namjoon." He leaned in closer, the firelight casting a warm glow over his chiseled features.

"Baby, I'm not asking you. I'm offering you the life you always deserved." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face.

"I've always been able to take care of myself."

“So now let me take care of you, sweetling.”

Your mind raced as you considered his words. The allure of a life without the constant threat of violence, without the stress of making ends meet, was tempting. But was it worth giving up your autonomy?

“You can still pursue your passions. I’m not taking that away from you,—” Namjoon paused, his expression softening.

“But no Anubis,” he took your hands into his.

“What do you want?” You asked quietly. He held your gaze, the firelight flickering across his face, illuminating the resolve etched in his features.

“I think I made my intentions strictly clear today.” He chuckled and exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m not just talking about safety and comfort, Peaches. I’m talking about us. About building a life together.”

You searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, but all you found was determination.

“You want me to be your… what, exactly?” You knew, you just still didn’t want to believe it.

Namjoon leaned back slightly, still holding your hands, his thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing rhythm. “I want you to be mine—”

“Mind and body, heart and soul.” Namjoon's voice was low and earnest, each word weighted with sincerity.

You swallowed hard, trying to process the depth of what he was asking. “You mean… you want me to commit completely? To be yours in every sense?”

“And I’ll be yours.” He nodded, his eyes unwavering, filled with a mixture of affection and intensity. You felt a rush of emotions—a blend of excitement and fear.

“I can give you a life where you don’t have to look over your shoulder, where you can focus on what truly matters to you—your dreams, your passions, us.”

The promise of safety and love hung heavy in the air between you, and while the thought was tempting, a part of you still clung to your independence. It would be nice not to work long night hours in a bar full of drunk people to make ends meet. Not walking home with keys in your hand in case someone would jump you over or worse. Not living in a small old rusty apartment with your father who barely brought any income home.

The fire crackled softly, and you could feel the warmth radiating from it, mirroring the warmth blooming in your chest.

“I need time.” Namjoon’s expression shifted, his jaw tightening slightly as he processed your words. But he didn’t let go of your hands. Instead, he brought them to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, his gaze unwavering.

“Time,” he echoed, the word almost foreign as it left his mouth. “You already had plenty of time.” The firelight cast shadows across his face, emphasizing the intensity etched into every line.

“You think time will change how you feel? Or how much I want you?” You felt a tremor run through you at the weight of his words. It was suffocating and yet strangely comforting, like a trap laced with silk, binding you softly but securely.

“No, Namjoon, I’m just—” Namjoon’s fingers brushed along your jawline, tipping your face up so that you met his gaze directly.

“I get that this must be overwhelming for you, but the time you are asking for is already up and done—”

“I didn’t know it was ticking,” you began, voice barely more than a whisper. Namjoon tilted his head, studying you, his lips quirking into a small, almost understanding smile.

“No more hidden exits, no more plans to escape. I want you here, with me, committed… without looking for a way out. And in return, I’ll take care of you and your father. That’s my promise to you.”

The warmth in his eyes almost made you believe that he meant well, that beneath the possessive intensity was a genuine desire to protect and love. Yet a lingering voice inside you warned that this love would be an all-consuming fire—one that would consume every part of you until there was nothing left to call your own.

Your mind was racing for the answer. If you say yes, you may as well forget who you were, but perhaps you will find yourself where you always wanted to be. Someone. But what if you say no?

“What if I won’t agree, Namjoon?” You asked, scared for the answer. Namjoon’s gaze darkened, the softness slipping away as his grip tightened just enough for you to feel the control he had over the situation. He leaned in, his lips grazing your ear, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Peaches, let's not pretend that you really have a choice here." His tone was calm, as if explaining something simple, obvious, like the inevitability of night following day.

"Your father," he began slowly, each word dripping with calculated weight, "he's in no position to take care of himself, is he? Without you, what would he do? You've been carrying his burden for years, haven't you? Always working to support him, protecting him, making sure he's safe…"

His voice lowered, softening almost to a whisper, but it was filled with a quiet menace. "But if you refuse me… well, who do you think is going to keep him safe then?"

You felt your heart hammer in your chest, dread creeping into every corner of your mind as you took in his words. This was the second time he was threatening your father.

"What is wrong with you?" You said coldly, staring daggers at his pretty face.

"What's wrong with me?" he echoed, voice laced with a faint, mocking laugh. "I'm doing what needs to be done, Peaches. I'm making sure you understand the lengths I'm willing to go to keep you by my side. You think I'd just stand by and watch you slip away? Again?"

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch featherlight but loaded with a silent threat. "I know you love your father," he murmured, voice a dangerous purr. "And that's why I'm reminding you of what's at stake."

You felt anger and fear twist inside you. He let his hand fall, watching your reaction with unsettling calmness, as if daring you to resist. Namjoon had you cornered, and he knew it. Every ounce of control you'd thought you held slipped further from your grasp, his quiet threats carving invisible chains around you.

"Why would you put me in this position?" He sighed, his lips curving into a faint, almost pitying smile as he tilted his head, studying you.

"Because I've been loving you for years, and when I can finally have you, you are trying toplay feminist."

The words hit you like a slap, raw and stinging. You swallowed, unable to look away from the intensity in his eyes. That faint smile on his lips held no warmth; it was twisted with something darker, something possessive.

"Play feminist?" you echoed, your voice wavering with anger and disbelief. "Namjoon, wanting to make my own choices doesn't mean I'm defying you or 'playing' anything. It means I'm a person, with my own will—"

He cut you off, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he shook his head slowly, almost as if you'd amused him.

“Peaches, you still don’t understand, do you? I’m offering you a world where you’re safe, where you don’t have to fight every day to survive. You’d rather keep struggling, keep pretending you’re content living in that cramped one bedroom apartment while your father brings home beer money when you are fighting off every hardship, and here I am, ready to give you the life you deserve.”

His fingers gripped your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze as he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper but laced with conviction.

“You think you want freedom, independence. But freedom isn’t safe, Peaches. Freedom won’t love you like I do. It won’t sacrifice or protect. It won’t give you everything at the cost of its own soul.”

He released you, letting his hand fall away, his gaze darkening. “This isn’t some game, and it isn’t about principles. It’s about us. And if that means you have to surrender some of that so-called independence, then so be it. I know what’s best for you, Peaches. You just need to stop fighting and see that.”

Namjoon’s gaze shifted to something darker, more resolute, as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. The firelight glinted off the soft pink morganite stone, antique piece that must have been in his kin for decades, its delicate beauty a stark contrast to the intensity in his eyes. He held it up, his jaw set, the unspoken command clear in the way he presented it to you.

“Peaches,” he murmured, his voice dangerously calm, “will you marry me?”

Before you could even think to pull away, he took your hand firmly, holding it in place as he slid the ring onto your finger. It was cold against your skin, the weight of it foreign and heavy.

“Say yes.” His voice was low, steady, a dangerous edge lurking beneath the calm exterior. His eyes bore into yours, unwavering, challenging you to defy him. “Say it, Peaches. Agree to be mine, completely, or I’ll make sure you lose everything you’ve been holding onto.”

You felt trapped, his hand tightening around yours as if to remind you of his control over the situation. Your heart raced, your throat dry, as the words hovered on the edge of your lips, unable to escape. But he didn’t let go, his fingers pressing into your skin with an unyielding determination.

“Say it,” he repeated, his voice firmer this time, the softness slipping into something harder, more commanding.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a feeling of resignation sinking deep into your chest as you stared at the ring, its delicate beauty now a symbol of your surrender.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips.

A smile spread across Namjoon’s face, slow and triumphant, as he released your hand, the weight of the ring now settling fully onto your finger. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped free, his touch gentle yet possessive.

“There,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with satisfaction.

“That’s my good girl.”

"Where's my bag?" you start sharply the moment Namjoon walks in, shrugging off the coat from his so-called 'business meeting.' You were obviously not allowed to sit in because women here do not work once they have a ring on their finger. Not like you are dying to be a part of a criminal syndicate that has its roots deeply set in this society. The air between you two is thick, a palpable tension that crackles like static before a storm.

"I looked everywhere, but I cannot seem to find it—"

Successful distilleries may be carrying the Jung name, yet other family members have their own shares of the money capital of the clan, Namjoon not being an exception. His name is presented on each brandy bottle you have had the chance to pour from. But what actually lies under the façade of crystal-clear bottles of whiskey and brandy remains unknown to the upper world.

When you met Namjoon, you didn't see a crime lord. You saw a man with ambition, with a drive that matched yours. But somewhere along the line, his ambition became chains around your wrists, tying you to a life you never chose. That's when you decided that working in Anubis would be only a "college" solution before you would leave the city.

He raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance. "What bag?"

"You know exactly which bag," you snap, stepping closer. Namjoon's eyes darken, his jaw tightening.

"How about we start on lunch?" he suggests, trying to ignore your pleas.

"No," you insist, voice trembling with anger. "I want my bag. I want my money."

"I thought we had settled this last night, didn't we?" he says, his voice low and dangerous.

Your blood boils at his dismissive tone. "Settled? You think you can just placate me and everything will be fine? That money is mine, Namjoon. I earned it."

He steps closer, his presence intimidating but you hold your ground. "Peaches, you ought to be my wife, what's mine is yours. You don't need that money."

You stand firm, not backing down. "Need it or not, it's mine. I worked for it, Namjoon."

Namjoon's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint in them. "You think you can just walk out with that money? You think you can use it to just leave?"

"No, I—" Namjoon steps forward, his eyes cold and calculating. You feel a surge of anger, your hands clenching into fists. "I earned that money, and I deserve to use it as I see fit."

"If you want to spend money, we can go shopping—" His presence overwhelming and oppressive. His words angering you even more.

"SHOPPING?! Are you fucking serious? This isn't about buying things, Namjoon. This is about my life, my choices."

Before you can continue your rambling, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close, his grip like iron. His lips crash onto yours in a bruising, dominating kiss, meant to remind you of his power over you. You struggle, but his hold is unyielding, leaving you breathless and dizzy.

"If you're gonna drop that honorific one more time—" Namjoon's eyes blaze with fury as he keeps you close, his grip almost painful.

"I won't—" you spit out, defiance still burning in your eyes despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "If you give me my money back. I have a right to it." Namjoon laughs coldly, shaking his head.

"Let's just have lunch, Peaches, before I lose my patience completely—" he says, his voice dripping with condescension. You glare at him, refusing to back down.

"Not until you give me my money back." His expression hardens, the cold amusement vanishing.

"You really want to push this, don't you?"

"Yes," you say, your voice unwavering. "Favor for favor, isn't it the mantra y'all go by?" A smirk playing on his lips when you finish the sentence.

"Everything you need, I provide." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

"I worked for that money, Namjoon. I deserve to have control over it."

He steps closer again, his eyes dancing with amusement as he looks down at you. "Control? You want control? Fine," he says, his voice dripping with condescension.

"I've deposited them into an account I opened in your name, joint with mine, naturally," he says, his words carrying that same cool, possessive edge.

"What?" you gasp, your disbelief palpable. "You what?"

"I will give you your black card," he repeats, his lips curling into a taunting smile "—once you prove not to be a flight risk, baby." Namjoon tilts his head, the smirk never fading. This, in essence, means that every single transaction will be noticed. You will withdraw the money from the card—he will know. You will attempt to transfer them to a different account? He will fucking know. The implications hitting you like a gut punch. Your blood runs cold as his words sink in.

"I'm not stupid, Peaches. I know that we gotta work on our relationship." He steps even closer, his gaze intense, pinning you in place. "Let's work on that trust first, and then you can have money at your disposal."

Your heart beats in your throat, the frustration boiling beneath the surface. Trust? The word feels like a cruel joke coming from him.Trust?

"I'm not one of your assets, Namjoon," you spit out, your voice thick with defiance. "And I won't be treated like one." His towering form casting a shadow over you, and for a moment, his eyes soften, as if he's pitying you.

"You don't have a choice, baby." His tone shifts again, dripping with that same chilling calm.

"When you prove you can stay and play nice, then maybe, just maybe, I'll let you have some freedom with your own damn money." And just like that, he's already begun dictating the terms of your life again, his grip on you tighter than ever before.

The missing duffle bag with your money was among the least of your worries when you realized what else the duffle bag possessed.

"You have my passport, Namjoon, how can I run away?" Namjoon's eyes flicker, the amusement fading slightly, but his smirk doesn't falter. He's been expecting this—he always expects everything.

Namjoon's smile is slow, deliberate, almost cruel. "I've taken what I need to keep you close." Namjoon leans in, his breath warm against your ear, his voice low and dangerous.

"But I am not underestimating your spirit."

You're nauseous, the implication of his words settling over you like a weight you can't shake off. He is holding the strings to everything, but that only made you realize that you had a hell of a lot of thinking and plotting to do to get out of here. And the most intrusive thought back in your head, where you consider staying here and embracing this finally official relationship, has to go—quickly.

"So, what now?" you ask, voice trembling despite your best effort to keep it steady. "You plan on keeping me locked up forever, Namjoon-oppa?" Namjoon only smiles, cold and confident.

"No baby. But I will keep you very close, until I can trust you." Your skin prickles where his fingers brush, but you don't pull away. You can't. The need to stay composed, to not give him the satisfaction of seeing you break, fights against the rising tide of rage and fear in your chest.

"And what do you want me to do to earn it, Namjoon?" you ask, your voice steady despite the turmoil roiling inside you. "Beg? Crawl? Pretend everything is fine when it's not?" He tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he's piecing together in real time. The silence that follows is thick with tension. He stands so close now that you can feel the heat of his body against yours.

"So, lunch it is then?"

His tone is mockingly light, but there's a sharp edge beneath it when he tries to abandon the conversation, the kind that makes you feel trapped.

The black Mercedes hums smoothly along the Bronx streets, its sleek exterior reflecting the gray clouds above. It's going to snow any day now. Inside, the air is thick with tension, an unspoken understanding between the two passengers.

You sit in the backseat, your fingers nervously gripping the edge of your dress, the smooth fabric barely registering under your touch. Your sunglasses hide the unease in your eyes, but the tightness in your chest is something you can't disguise.

Today feels different.

Namjoon sits beside you in the backseat, his gaze fixed ahead, while his hand is warm on your thigh. You are staring at your shoes. Isn't this what you wanted? To ride in an expensive car, wearing Saint Laurent pointy-toed heels? A form-fitting dress with a high neck reveals your figure subtly, and the hungry look Namjoon gave you when you stepped out of the wardrobe did not go unnoticed. Something feels different, as if you're playing dress-up. The allure of the life Namjoon offers, it all feels strangely distant.

You eye him carefully—his black turtleneck is tailored to fit perfectly, sleek and minimalistic. Over it, a black suit jacket, structured but not overly stiff, gives him a commanding presence. His black slacks match the simplicity and power of his look, polished and clean.

The cold air bites against your skin, and you instinctively pull your coat tighter around your shoulders, trying to shield yourself from the chill that seems to creep through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Thank you for letting me see my father," you whisper, your voice barely audible, yet heavy with meaning.

"You don't have to thank me—" he says quietly, his voice low, almost intimate. His gaze doesn't soften, but there's something in the way he stands, commanding yet calm, that makes your heart race. The chill of the early morning seems to deepen, pressing in on you, yet you're acutely aware of the warmth of his presence, the heat of his body just a little too close.

"I couldn't have kept you from seeing him," Namjoon continues, his tone flat, as if he's simply stating a fact.

"But keep in mind that this is a privilege—you misbehave, you won't see him." His eyes lock with yours, not with malice, but with a cold certainty that makes your heart flutter uncomfortably in your chest. The last thing you want now is to provoke him further, to find out just how far his power reaches.

"Engaged?!" disbelief and shock etched into the features of your father when you sat down at the kitchen table after you collected some of the things you wished to take with you. You nod, your heart racing.

"Yes, Dad. It just happened. I wanted you to know first." Your father's gaze shifts to Namjoon, his face a storm of emotions—anger, disbelief, worry.

"Peaches, do you know what you're doing? This man is nearly a decade older than you," he whispers your way, his voice trembling with concern.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I know, Dad. It's a lot to take in, but Namjoon and I—we're serious about this." You never knew how good you were at lying until today. Your father's eyes narrow, his gaze flicking between you and Namjoon.

"When did this relationship even happen? Is he holding you against your will?!" he demands, his tone a mix of frustration and disbelief. Your smile freezes for a moment, and you try your best not to give yourself away.

"No, Dad, that happens only in movies," you reply, attempting a light-hearted tone to deflect his suspicion. Maybe this is what Namjoon meant by earning trust.

Your father's gaze remains hard, but he doesn't push further. Instead, he turns to Namjoon, his voice cold and edged with protectiveness. "You better take care of her, Namjoon. If anything happens to her, I won't forgive you."

Namjoon smiles proudly at you, almost missing your father's harsh words. His confidence in you seems unshaken.

"You have my word," he replies simply, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, staring at the shiny peachy morganite.

You were never religious enough to step foot in a church after you were christened as a baby. Your parents were indifferent to faith, more focused on the struggles of daily life than spiritual obligations. But your now husband-to-be came from very religious kin, and he himself was a God's worshipper. Ironic enough when he managed to break the Ten Commandments before sipping his morning coffee.

His family, deeply rooted in tradition and devout faith, expected nothing less than a grand celebration steeped in religious customs. The thought of walking down an aisle, flanked by stained glass and the scent of incense, felt foreign and overwhelming.

The morning sun poured into the grand church, illuminating the ornate stained glass that depicted scenes of devotion and reverence. As you and Namjoon stepped through the heavy wooden doors, a wave of warmth enveloped you, mingling with the scent of polished wood and candle wax. It felt like stepping into another world, one where faith and family intertwined seamlessly.

You could see familiar faces sitting on the wooden benches. Kim Taehyung smirking your way when he glanced at your hand interlocked with Namjoon's. He was sitting next to Mr. Jung, whom you recognized by his mullet, and the next seat was occupied by the one and only Mrs. Jung, whom you hadn't seen for a good amount of time. There were also some faces that you did not recognize, yet they still felt familiar to you. You couldn't help but notice the way the Kims and Jungs interacted, the warmth of their bonds evident in the way they smiled, laughed, and shared stories during the prayers. Their camaraderie was infectious, and for a fleeting moment, you found yourself longing for that sense of belonging.

As the service began, the congregation settled into a peaceful quiet, the sounds of rustling papers and shifting bodies fading into the background. The priest took his place at the altar, his voice echoing through the high ceilings as he began to speak about love, commitment, and the sacred bonds of marriage. Each word resonated deeply within you, pulling at your heartstrings as you thought of your impending union. As it was explained to you, this Mass was held as the announcement of your engagement—one of many traditions they had.

Namjoon sat beside you, his presence a constant reminder of the promise you had made. You could feel his gaze on you, intense and unwavering, as if he were silently urging you to embrace this new chapter of your life. But the weight of that ring on your finger felt heavier than ever in this moment.

"Love is not merely a feeling; it's a choice," the priest's voice boomed, and you glanced at Namjoon, catching the flicker of expectation in his eyes. "It's a daily commitment to one another, a promise to uphold each other through trials and triumphs alike."

You shifted in your seat, feeling the heat of his gaze on you like a physical presence. You wondered if love really was a choice—or if, in your case, it was a bargain made under duress. Namjoon's grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, a subtle reminder of the hold he had over your life.

This was the first time he took you out of the penthouse since the day you woke up in his bed for the first time. He simply did not trust you enough to go out in public with you just yet. Hence, his hand remained on yours in a very obsessive manner, as if you were to fly away at any moment.

The priest continued, "Marriage is a sacred bond, one that should be approached with reverence and care. It's not merely about sharing a life together but about supporting and uplifting one another, about being the anchor when the storms come." He paused, letting his words sink in.

Your mind wandered back to your father, the struggles he faced, and how Namjoon had used that vulnerability to secure your loyalty. The contrast between the priest's idealistic views on love and your reality felt stark. How could you ever find true happiness in a union that felt more like a transaction than a partnership? You were feeling heavy.

"And today," the priest announced, raising his voice slightly to draw everyone's attention, "we gather not only to worship but to celebrate the union of two souls destined to walk together."

Your breath caught in your throat, and a mix of emotions surged through you. Murmurs of congratulations rippled through the congregation, and you felt the weight of countless eyes on you, some filled with excitement, others with curiosity. Namjoon's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes gleaming with pride.

You could feel your cheeks flush as the reality of your situation sank in deeper. The ring on your finger felt like a shackle, the promises made a binding contract that left little room for your own desires.

"I—" you started, but the words felt stuck in your throat. "I need to go to the restroom, Namjoon."

His expression shifted, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Now?" he asked, voice low enough that only you could hear, but firm enough to convey his displeasure. "We're in the middle of the service."

Namjoon hesitated, weighing your request against the backdrop of the ceremony. Finally, he released your hand but leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Make it quick, baby."

You nodded, grateful for the small bit of freedom. Your Louboutin heels clicked against the marble floor, each step echoing like a drumbeat in the otherwise quiet sanctuary. The sound felt amplified in your ears, a reminder of the attention you were drawing as you navigated through the rows of wooden pews. You could feel the weight of curious gazes following you, some filled with anticipation, others with judgment. It was as if the congregation sensed the tension between you and Namjoon, the unspoken power dynamics playing out in real time.

You pushed open the restroom door and stepped inside. The fluorescent lights cast a stark glare, highlighting the contrast between the serenity of the service and the storm swirling within you.

Leaning against the sink, you took a moment to catch your breath. The reflection staring back at you was a mixture of uncertainty and defiance, a girl caught between two worlds.

"Why am I still here?" you whispered to your reflection, the question echoing back at you. You thought of the life you had envisioned for yourself, one filled with love, laughter, and independence, not one governed by fear and obligation.

"I fucked up." After a few deep breaths, you steadied yourself. You needed to return before he would throw a tantrum, as he loved to do whenever you were away from him for longer than ten minutes. Paranoid bastard. You glanced at your watch and noted that only a few minutes had passed. With a resigned sigh, you turned to leave, determination flooding your veins.

As you exited the restroom, you found Namjoon leaning against the wall outside, arms crossed and an expression that mixed concern and annoyance. His posture was protective, yet the underlying tension in his demeanor sent a shiver down your spine. He pushed himself from the wall only to walk towards you, making you take a few steps back into the restroom. His eyes never left yours even when he closed the door and locked it from inside, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.

The reality of your situation pressed down on you, an oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe. He moved closer, his eyes dark and intent.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he replied when you asked him why he wasn't upstairs, his tone both soothing and authoritative.

"You know how important this day is, right? I can't have you slipping away from me."

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. "I'm fine. I just needed a moment," you insisted, but the way he watched you made it clear he wasn't convinced.

"You can be honest, Peaches," he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone. "You're in a room full of people celebrating our engagement, and yet you're out here trying to escape."

His words struck a nerve, and you crossed your arms defensively. "I'm not trying to escape," you shot back, though the lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

"Okay," he said calmly, staring intensely into your eyes, as if he was trying to read you. A small smirk played at the corners of his lips, but the tension in the air remained thick. You did not expect him to drop the topic that quickly.

"I just needed to collect my thoughts," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Okay," he murmured again. He stepped closer, closing the distance between you even more, his body radiating warmth that both comforted and unsettled you. He was standing there, inches away from you, yet he was not taking any action.

"W-why are you so calm, what are you doing, Namjoon?" you asked, trying to grasp his demeanor which you yet again did not understand.

"Waiting—"

"Can we just go back to the ceremony?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. Namjoon's smirk widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"Not yet, my love," he whispered back, his voice low and husky. Namjoon's fingers traced the curve of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "I longed to show you just who you belong to for years."

"You're fucking stunning, Peaches," he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. Namjoon's fingers trailed down your chest, stopping just above your breasts. You felt a jolt of electricity run through your body, and you knew that you were in trouble.

"Namjoon," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "We can't do this here, we're in a church." You tried to push him away.

"You are something I can sin for," he whispered back, his voice low and seductive. You tried to pull away, but Namjoon held you firm, his grip unyielding.

"Namjoon, please," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire and apprehension.

But Namjoon was relentless, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that left you quivering with pleasure. "You're mine, Peaches," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

"And I'll do whatever it takes to keep it that way."

Namjoon's lips found yours, and he kissed you with a passion that left you breathless. His tongue danced with yours, and you felt your body respond to his every touch. As you kissed, Namjoon's hand slid between your legs, and he began to caress you through your dress. You gasped softly, your body arching into his touch, trembling with the sudden pleasure.

"Namjoon," you whispered urgently, "we have to stop." Your breath hitched as he pressed you against the mirror after he lifted you onto the counter, plunging himself between your legs.

"No, we don't," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Not until I've claimed you as mine."

The church's silence seemed to amplify the intensity of the moment, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge of a cliff. His fingers traced the contours of your body, exploring every curve and crevice.

"What if someone hears?" you breathed again, desperation lacing your voice.

His lips paused just above your collarbone, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. As if the universe was playing by his rules, the choir started to sing. He chuckled.

"You're mine, Peaches. I won't let anyone take you away from me—not today, not ever." He captured your lips again, his kiss deepening with a fervor that ignited every nerve ending in your body.

His hands were exploring the curves of your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress higher as he pressed you firmly against the cold surface of the counter.

"Namjoon," you breathed, a mix of excitement and fear knotting in your stomach. "We can't…" you continued your protests.

"But we will." His fingers danced dangerously close to your most sensitive spots, teasing you with the promise of pleasure. You felt your resolve begin to crumble under his touch.

"I've waited too long for this," he murmured, voice a velvet whisper that wrapped around you like a lover's embrace.

"Namjoon," you gasped against his lips, torn between the heady rush of desire and the urgent need to pull back. But with each kiss, each exploration of his hands, your inhibitions began to melt away, surrendering to the intoxicating pull he had over you.

"Just let go," he urged, a soft growl escaping his lips as he pressed his body into yours, making you acutely aware of the hard length that pressed against your core.

"Trust me."

A wild, reckless part of you craved this intimacy, this connection that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. Your mind took you back to all those moments you shared that made your heart flutter and belly tight when you did not know why he made you feel that way.

You hesitated for a heartbeat, the weight of your reality pressing heavily on your conscience. His fingers found their way beneath your dress, inching higher until they brushed against your most sensitive skin. You gasped, arching your back involuntarily as pleasure surged through you, igniting a fire in your belly.

"Namjoon!" you cried out, a mixture of pleasure and panic lacing your voice.

"Shh, baby," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck as he continued his teasing exploration. With a deft motion, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down your legs and tossing them aside as if they were nothing more than an afterthought. The cool air kissed your exposed skin, heightening your senses and making your breath hitch in your throat.

The air in the restroom felt thick with anticipation, each breath you took mingling with the scent of sandalwood and the faint musk of his skin.

“You’re breath-taking,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with desire.

His fingertips traced closer to where you needed him most, teasing you with the lightest of touches. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan that threatened to escape, the heat pooling deep within you almost overwhelming.

“Namjoon…” you whispered, half warning, half plea, torn between your desire for him and the reality of your surroundings.

“—and so wet for me.” He breathed against your skin, his breath sending sparks dancing along your nerves. His tongue danced with yours, a heated exploration that deepened your need for him. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you and the intoxicating chemistry that crackled between your bodies.

His fingers pressed against you, expertly coaxing soft moans from your lips as he slid one finger inside, filling you completely. You bit down on your lip to stifle your cries, but the pleasure was overwhelming, radiating out from the point of contact and pooling low in your stomach.

His eyes sparkled with a predatory intensity, relishing in your reaction. He watched you as if he were savouring a fine wine, taking his time to appreciate every detail of your response.

“Namjoon,” you gasped, your voice a fragile whisper, barely able to maintain any semblance of restraint.

“Oppa.” He growled. The way he said it—deep, possessive—made your heart race faster, each beat echoing in the stillness of the restroom. Namjoon’s fingers moved with a deliberate rhythm, curling inside you in a way that sent your mind spiralling.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he commanded, his tone a mix of sultry and demanding, eyes never leaving yours as he watched you unravel under his touch.

You hesitated for a moment, your breath coming in quick gasps as pleasure washed over you. “It feels… amazing,” you managed to whisper, the confession slipping past your lips like a sweet secret. You can regret this later.

“Good,” he murmured, the smirk on his face growing wider. “I want to hear every sound you make.”

His fingers moved faster, building the tension to a near unbearable level, each thrust sending you closer to the brink. The world around you faded completely, leaving just the two of you entwined in this stolen moment of passion, lost in the depths of one another.

“Namjoon. I can’t—” his hand smacked your ass and he deliberately slowed down.

“It’s oppa for you. Don’t make me repeat it again.”

The playful sting of his hand against your skin sent a rush of warmth coursing through you, mingling with the heat pooling low in your belly. His voice was firm, but beneath that authority was a hint of something deeper—a promise that ignited a wild excitement within you.

“Oppa,” you whispered breathlessly, the word slipping from your lips like a spell meant just for him.

He smiled, satisfied, and resumed his movements, fingers working expertly inside you again. The pressure built anew, the delightful tension sending electric shocks through your body.

“Good girl,” he praised, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to hear you, Peaches. Let me know how much you need me.”

With that, he quickened his pace, thrusting his fingers deeper, curling them just right. The overwhelming pleasure began to blur the edges of your consciousness, leaving only the sensations that centred on where he was buried within you. The heat intensified, building towards a sweet, dizzying peak, and you couldn’t help but surrender to it.

With a final flick of his fingers, he found that sweet spot inside you, driving you wild. Your body responded in kind, the sensations intertwining with your every thought. You could feel the tightening in your core, the unmistakable signal that you were teetering on the edge of bliss.

“Namjoon-oppa, I—” you gasped, words failing you as the pleasure escalated.

“Shh, just let it happen,” he murmured, his voice deep and soothing, anchoring you in the moment. His lips met yours in a heated kiss, swallowing your cries as the waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

"Oppa!" you cried against his mouth, unable to contain the raw need bursting forth from within. Your body trembled, the climax washing over you in a torrent of sensations, enveloping you completely as you surrendered to the bliss. The choir's distant hymns created an almost surreal backdrop to this heated encounter, mixing innocence with your burgeoning desire.

As the pleasure receded, leaving you breathless and dazed, Namjoon held you close, his arms encircling you like a protective cocoon. You leaned into him, heart racing and body tingling, reveling in the aftershocks of your release.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he teased, his voice low and playful, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. "To be mine."

Your blurry eyes lifted to look at him, taking him in while you were still panting from the rollercoaster of emotions he made you feel. Flickering down to his bulge covered by the fabric of his black suit pants from Ralph Lauren, your breath hitched again. Enough for him to move his hands to his belt, being absolutely ready to take you. Finally free of his belt, he pulled down his zipper. The fabric of his pants fell open, revealing the outline of his desire, bold and unmistakable.

The urgency of the moment wrapped around you like a tight embrace, making it hard to think straight. You glanced around, the restroom feeling impossibly small, every sound amplified.

"Oppa, please…" you breathed, your heart racing as you tried to pull away, but the undeniable hunger in his gaze anchored you in place. You could see the determination etched on his face, the way his jaw tightened with lust. He had a plan, and it made your pulse quicken. You were not sure what you were begging for—to stop or to continue?

If not for the soft knock on the door, he would have taken you right there, on the church's restroom counter. It jolted you both, pulling you back to the reality of your surroundings. A rush of panic surged through you, and you instinctively glanced around the cramped restroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Oppa," you whispered again, this time a plea laced with desire and uncertainty.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Just a little longer," he promised, his fingers finding their way back to your thighs, gripping you tightly as if to keep you anchored to the moment.

"Just one more time," he urged, his voice thick with need. "I need to feel you—"

"Hyung, I know you will kill me for this, but you need to come back upstairs." The voice—familiar and insistent—cut through the haze of desire that had enveloped you both.

Namjoon's expression flickered from lust to annoyance, his grip on you tightening slightly as if to remind you that this moment was still theirs, even if the world outside was intruding.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his frustration palpable. The intensity in his gaze shifted, but it didn't fade. Instead, it turned into something more predatory, a simmering heat that promised this wasn't over.

"We'll be right there!" He shouted back to the voice behind the door. His eyes slowly returned to watch you and your disheveled form after he fingered the fuck out of you.

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours once more, and it felt like time stood still. The world around you blurred, and for that moment, it was just the two of you—lost in a whirlwind of passion that defied the reality waiting outside the door.

His forehead remained pressed on yours when he whispered to your lips. “Next time, we won’t be so rushed, I promise.” Pecking your lips, he quickly pulled his pants back up, securing his belt with a swift motion, yet the heat of the moment lingered between you both.

The calm shattered in an instant.

The heavy church door burst open with a deafening crash. Armed men in tactical gear stormed in with raised weapons, their shouts filling the air. Namjoon immediately pushed you behind him, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene with deadly focus.

The thunderous crack of gunfire echoed off the stone walls as the air filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder. Namjoon drew a gun from beneath his jacket—like several other family men in attendance—his movements swift and practiced. He returned fire, the muzzle flash illuminating his determined face in bursts of light.

Your heart pounded in your chest like a drum of terror and adrenaline. Huddled behind an overturned pew, you clutched your ears against the deafening noise, eyes wide with shock and fear. Namjoon, breathing heavily, scanned the room one final time before turning to you, his eyes softening for a moment.

"Stay down!" he shouted, his voice barely audible above the chaos.

"Jungkook, get them out!" Namjoon barked, his eyes fixed on the fight.

He reached your side, pulling you up by the arm. Jungkook's grip was firm yet reassuring.

"Come on," he urged, his voice a steady anchor amid the storm of violence. He led you through the chaos, his body shielding you from the worst of the gunfire.

Just as you neared the side door, a sharp pain exploded in your side. You stumbled, a cry of agony escaping your lips. The world seemed to slow, the sounds of battle muffled by the roaring in your ears. Looking down, you saw blood spreading across your dress, the pain intensifying with each heartbeat.

"Peaches!"

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.

.

.

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𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @hecateslittlewitchling - @ratprincessnr1 - @originalbiscuitfiredreamer - @mggv97 - @urlovelily - @ilys00ga - @beautifulcloudfestival - @herareila @mar-lo-pap

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

see you next time, love, p.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Baby Emergency: Attorney Kim Namjoon and his little love

Pairing: Attorney Kim Namjoon x Secretary! Reader

Summary: When he said he’d be there for you and your son, he meant it.

A/N: Giiiiirl, the MV!! Daddy Namjoon?????

Masterlist, Kofi Preview:

“N-Namjoo-“ you started, your voice trembling with mixture of surprise and gratitude.

You hadn’t even finished calling his name when he closed the distance between you in swift strides. Before you knew it, his arms surrounded you, pulling you to his chest as he breath a sigh of relief while you finally sobbed, your shoulders were trembling and his heavy hand rubbing your back so gently brought you comfort and relief. You didn’t know how much you needed him until he showed up. He was your rock, you realized. He was your constant, perhaps, the only constant one in your life. Similarly, the moment he had you in his arms was the moment his tense muscles relaxed. You were here. You and your son were here, and to Namjoon, that was all that mattered. He would do anything just for it to stay this way.

You didn’t know how much he needed this.

“I’m here. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered in your ear, meaning every word he uttered. Nothing and no one could hurt his family as long as he was alive, he swore to himself.

“Wait,” you suddenly said, attempting to move even an inch away from him to no avail. “Don’t you have a conference in New York today? Why are you still here?”

Fuck that, Namjoon thought. He wouldn’t be anywhere but here when you needed him the most.

He was quiet, soaking in the moment and weighing his words. But as careful as he was, he wanted nothing but for you to know his truth.

“I told you before that you won’t have to go through this alone,” he answered sincerely, finally letting you leave his arms to let you see the simmering sincerity in his dark eyes. “You have me. For always.”

Down bad for this man

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - They're Your One-Night Stand and They Fall for You (hyung line)

Warnings: mature NSFW content (18+) (p in v, f oral receiving), mention of virginity

MASTERLIST

You had a huge argument with your best friend over her toxic boyfriend and she decided that the two of you should take some time apart but you knew that was just her boyfriend talking. You've known each other for years and were so close that her words came as an absolute shock and broke your heart. That night you just wanted to forget everything and have a good time. You went to the club with some of your other friends and danced and had a few drinks. You were tipsy enough to make you feel braver than usual but not remotely enough that you didn't know what you were doing. You had never had a one-night stand before but everything is a first sometime.

Jin

You were dancing at the club although the music wasn't really that good. You didn't care, though; you just needed to stop thinking about losing your best friend and let out the anger that you felt towards her toxic boyfriend.

When you followed your friends to go to the ladies' room together, you bumped into a tall figure.

"I'm so sorry," you said over the loud music. It was dark and the club was crowded. Another person was trying to make their way past you and pushed you into the stranger with force. You yelped in surprise as you fell but the stranger steadied you against him.

"Are you alright?" asked the stranger's deep voice. You finally managed to look up, your faces only inches apart. He was so handsome that it nearly took your breath away. Your heart was beating wildly as you nodded but your eyes drifted to his lips instead. You had never done that before but that night you were feeling completely reckless. The stranger's eyes found your lips as well and you took your chance. You stepped on the tips of your toes and closed the space between the two of you. The stranger's hands moved from your arms down to your waist as he pulled you closer. The scent of his perfume gave you goosebumps. It was strong but elegant not like the cheap colognes of other guys.

Before you knew it, you found yourself in the young man's apartment. You only had time enough to find out that his first name was Jin and you didn't care about the rest. All you wanted was to forget about everything and Jin was so good at making you forget. His touch made your knees weak and his kisses were so strong and passionate that all you could think about was wanting him.

Jin unzipped your tight black dress and pulled it down to your waist. He kissed your exposed shoulders as you untucked his white shirt. A loud moan escaped your mouth when he found the sweet spot on your neck and your fingers balled around his shirt. Jin tore his lips away from your neck and left soft, wet kisses down your chest and your tummy until he came to your waist. He pulled your dress off completely, his mouth watering at the sight of your lacy underwear. He kissed the front of it, making you gasp as he yearned to get a better access. Jin's large hands squeezed your bum as he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You could have never found the confidence to do all of this so easily if you were completely sober and you were glad for the few drinks you had.

You swallowed hard when Jin laid you down on his bed and pulled off his shirt. As if his kisses and confident touch weren't enough to make you soaking wet, the sight of his god-like body made your skin crawl with fever.

You found yourself tracing your toes gently from the waist of his trousers and past his length that hardened even more beneath your touch and down to the middle of his thigh. Jin watched you with a look in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. He took off his pants and grabbed a condom from the nightstand. You pulled him down to you, your lips finding his before you helped him slip it on. The brush of your fingertips against his member made him so hard that he could come there and then. Jin wouldn't allow himself, though, not before he could feel himself inside of you.

Jin climbed on top of you and found your soft lips again. Your kisses were driving him crazy.

"Can you go slowly at first?" you whispered into the kiss, your fingers tangled in the stranger's hair. Jin opened his eyes and found yours. If you could blush any more, you would.

"Of course," he agreed and left a hickey beneath your jaw. You smelled fantastic and it made him almost feral but he remembered what you said.

Jin took off your soaked-through underwear and pulled your hips closer to his before he guided himself inside of you. You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning but it helped little to contain your little sounds of pleasure. You couldn't help but curse under your breath as Jin began to move his hips and you could feel every inch of him inside of you. Your heart was racing like crazy and you couldn't get enough. Your nails dug into Jin's back, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips. It felt so good that you never wanted the moment to stop.

"Fuck," groaned Jin as he came closer and closer. His eyebrows furrowed into a frown and his grip on your hands grew firmer. Jin's face buried into your neck when he came, his breathing loud and heavy as he tried to calm down. You caressed his back, no less excited although you didn't finish. You didn't even expect to, given that this was just a one-night stand.

Afterwards, Jin went to the bathroom and took off the used condom. He ran his fingers through his hair when he came back, his eyes finding your sprawled across his bed. You were still breathing heavily, one of your hands on your bare tummy, the other somewhere behind your head. Your gaze tied with his when he waited by the bed.

Jin's fingers traced your calf first then his hand slid up your leg as he climbed onto the bed and he reached your thigh. Jin kissed your tummy first, his teeth softly grazing against your skin. Your heart began to race again and your stomach flipped with fireworks. Before you realized what Jin was doing, his mouth had reached your wet pussy. You gasped when his lips closed around you sucking and kissing and his tongue drawing shapes in ways that brought you to the edge of screaming. Your back arched when Jin's hands wrapped around your thighs and he brought you closer, your toes curling and your heart beating so loud against your chest that you forgot how to breathe. You whimpered as your legs shivered and pleasure took over your entire body.

"Oh my god ..." you cried when Jin pulled away from the throbbing, wet mess between your thighs. He turned to the inside of your leg and pressed hard kisses there as well, leaving a red marks on your tender skin.

***

You woke up in the morning with the sun in your eyes. You blinked, thinking you had died for a moment because it felt as if you had been sleeping on a cloud. It was just a large bed, however, with soft, plush covers scattered all around you. You sat up quickly when you remembered everything that happened. A blush so strong rose to your cheeks that your face was pulsating with heat. A sharp breath caught in your throat when you realized that you were naked and your underwear lay scattered on the bedroom floor. You jumped up quickly and put it on but your dress was nowhere to be found. There were three doors in the bedroom; one led to the walk-in closet, another to the hallway and the last one to the bathroom. Your dress wasn't there either but when you saw the smudged makeup on your face, you couldn't help but wash it away quickly and run your fingers through your tangled hair.

There was the sound of footsteps coming from the other side of the apartment. You saw a white shirt at the foot of the bed and slipped it on. The smell of it reminded you of every detail of the night and made your face flush. When you slowly made your way down the hall, you took in the luxurious apartment, not even noticing how extravagant it was last night. As you looked around, a pair of dark eyes was watching you with great interest. Jin's gaze followed your bare legs, the silhouette of your lacy underwear beneath his white shirt and your soft hair bathing in the morning sunlight.

You could feel someone looking at you. A loud gasp escaped your mouth when you turned around and saw your one-night stand behind the kitchen isle. He looked even better than you remembered; he wore a fresh shirt and suit trousers, a golden watch shimmering on his wrist as he held a cup of coffee in his other hand. Not only did you feel under-dressed and awkward about last night, you suddenly realized how out of your league he was.

"Good morning," he said and took a small sip of coffee.

"I ... I couldn't find my dress," you almost stuttered as you hugged your arms. Your cheeks were on fire. The man gestured at the sofa behind you. You slipped back into the bathroom where you changed quickly, not having the smallest idea of how to navigate the situation.

When you returned to the kitchen, the man was still there.

"Coffee?" He offered you a cup.

"Thank you ..." you tried to remember his name but you couldn't even if there was a gun to your head.

"Jin," he filled in a small but amused smile on his handsome face.

"Jin," you repeated and took a long sip that you desperately needed. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," said Jin, unable to take his eyes off your beautiful face. He couldn't stop thinking about last night either. He couldn't say what it was and it irritated him to death, but something about you drew him in; he wanted to know more, he wanted to know everything.

"Are you hungry? I can make you some breakfast," he offered, taking you completely by surprise. Based on what your friends told you, one-night stands don't go this way. Some guys even made the girls leave in the middle of the night and yet he was offering to make you breakfast.

"I ... I'm not sure," your statement sounded more like a question.

"You're not sure if you're hungry?" asked Jin, unable to keep the smile off his face at how adorable you were. The warm look in his eyes gave you butterflies.

"No, I am but ... Shouldn't I go now?" you asked, only realizing how dumb you sounded after saying the words. "I'm sorry, I've never really done this before," you confessed and only made your cheeks go even redder.

"I can see that," smiled Jin and went for the fridge where he grabbed some ingredients for an omelette. You were staying for breakfast.

"What ... What do you do?" you asked carefully as you sat by the counter, taking in the lavish apartment. Jin couldn't have been more than a couple of years older than you and yet he either seemed to be making a fortune or inherited a colossal amount of wealth from his parents.

"I have a significant share of a company," said Jin diplomatically as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt before he started whisking the eggs.

"Oh ..." You heard about really young people who invested at the right thing at the right time and became rich overnight. You figured Jin was one of them.

"Do you do this often?" you asked after Jin set a beautiful omelette in front of you.

"Cook?"

"No," you laughed a little, your cheeks turning red again. "I mean this ... Whatever it is ... was ..."

Jin watched you for a moment, trying to figure you out. He could tell that you had no idea who he was; he knew that last night already and it drew him in. People began to act differently once they found out who he was.

"Sometimes," said Jin honestly and you nodded as you took a delicious bite.

"This is really good," you complimented, completely focused on the food and not noticing the look of interest in Jin's eyes. He had never met anyone like you before.

"Thank you," he said. "You?"

"No," you almost laughed again and shook your head. "This isn't my thing, I've never even—" You stopped talking and froze when you realized what you just said. An eerie silence fell between the two of you as your face burned bright red and you could feel the blood pulsating from your neck to your cheeks.

You took another bite of the food and hoped Jin wouldn't ask further about what you practically revealed just now, but you could feel his eyes burn through you. For a long time, you really wanted your first time to be with someone special but as you grew older and went on more dates, the realization of that idea seemed nearly impossible. You didn't mind your first time being with Jin. You followed your instincts last night and went for it; it's not like you haven't done anything by yourself before that.

Jin watched you, trying to process what he just thought you said. His heart began racing faster as his eyes measured you from head to heel. You bit your lip as a pang of guilt shot through your chest.

"I hope you don't mind that I didn't say anything," you said apologetically and forced yourself to look up into Jin's eyes. "I didn't want to make a big deal out of it because it's isn't a big deal to me." Your voice slowly grew more quiet with each word. Jin stared at you, his lips slightly parted.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, leaning in slightly closer to you. Your eyes widened slightly and you blushed again. This was the last thing you expected him to say, a complete stranger.

You found yourself nodding truthfully. "Yeah, I ... It was great ..." you looked down at your plate and pulled another piece of omelette from the large roll with your fork. "It was pretty incredible really ..." you whispered under your breath when the memories came back to you.

Jin's hand went to your chin and propped it up before he kissed you. Your eyes widened at first but your instincts took over and you kissed him back. Your hand went to his smoothly-shaven cheek and you couldn't help but let out a quiet moan at how good Jin's plush lips felt against yours. He pulled away for a split second before leaning in again and pressing a shorter but no less passionate kiss to your lips.

Jin knew he was done for when he found it almost impossible to detach from your kiss. Your eyes staring up at him made his knees go weak - it was a completely new sensation for him.

"What are you doing tonight?" he found himself asking.

"I ... I don't know," you tried to think. The kiss made your brain all foggy.

"Let me take you out to dinner," said Jin. You stared at him puzzled.

"Me?" you asked timidly. You had never planned on this, not in a million years, but you would be lying if you said the thought of going out with Jin properly didn't excite you and give you butterflies.

"I'll pick you up at seven," he decided.

Namjoon

You were just coming back from the ladies' room with your girl friends when you saw a stunningly-handsome man. He was walking beside you back to the club area, his perfume sending shivers down your spine. The hallway narrowed to a single-door and he let you enter first.

"Thank you," you said with a small smile and slipped inside. When you glanced over your shoulder, the young man was nowhere to be seen. You frowned although you knew he was completely out of your league. What you found strange too, though, was that he was wearing a suit to the club. You wondered if he was the owner but he seemed much too young to own a business like this.

You had another drink and went back to the dance floor with your friends. You were dancing to the music, trying not to think about the absolute worst day you had. You couldn't believe how your best friend's boyfriend could manage to manipulate her so much that she would completely cut you off and her family too.

"I need to get some air," you voiced to your friend over the loud music. She nodded and continued on dancing.

You made your way through the pushy crowd, ignoring the weird guys who were gawking at you. They all looked the same; they dressed the same, they smelled like the same old cheap cologne; even their hair and faces looked the same.

You finally managed to make it through the back door, the cool air of the night filling your lungs and clearing your mind some.

"Everything alright?" asked a deep voice behind you. A small gasp escaped your lips as you jumped around. It's him, you realized when the young man in the suit stepped out from the shadows. He flicked away the cigarette butt in his hand.

You nodded as you hugged your bare arms. It was hot in the club but out here, the little black dress you wore wasn't remotely enough to keep you warm. Besides, you were sweaty from all the dancing.

"Actually, not really," you confessed and looked at the fluorescent light at the end of the back alley. The young man approached you.

"Anything I can do to help?" he asked and made you smile. You shook your head although you could help but allow your eyes to drift to the man's gorgeous lips. Your skin turned hot and prickly.

A pair of drunk girls in high heels emerged from the club suddenly and stumbled at you, pushing you against the stranger. He caught your arms and steadied you.

"Are you alright?" he asked after he threw a glare in the girls' direction. They were gone, though, giggling and stumbling down the alley.

"I'm fine," you nodded quickly. "Thank you."

"No problem," he said quietly as you looked up at him. There was hardly any space left between the two of you. A sharp breath caught in the back of your throat as your gaze fell on his lips again and he saw it. The stranger leaned down and kissed you. You responded immediately as you wrapped your arms around his neck and stepped on the tips of your toes. A small moan escaped your mouth when his hands took your hips and pulled you to him.

The moment that you made it into his apartment, the stranger grabbed your thighs and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to his bedroom.

"What's your name?" you whispered against his lips, hesitant to break the kiss for even a moment. He pulled away though, his eyebrows in a small frown as he looked you in the eye and stopped on his tracks. There was surprise in his dark irises and you wondered if he really was the owner of the club. You wouldn't have known him even if he was because you hardly ever went there.

"Namjoon," he said breathing heavily.

"I'm Y/N," you said quickly before you found Namjoon's lips again. His name sounded unique and familiar but in that moment you couldn't have thought about it less. All you wanted to do was to forget about everything and feel everything.

Namjoon sat down on the edge of the bed with you in his lap, your legs straddling his massive thighs. You kissed him hungrily as his large hands slid up your thighs and beneath your dress up to your hips. They stayed there for a while before Namjoon unzipped your dress and pulled it over your head. His lips went to your neck as you blindly unbuttoned his shirt, losing track for a moment when he found your sweet spot and a moan escaped your mouth. Namjoon's hand moved down your back and behind your lacy underwear. He squeezed your bum and made you move your hips closer to him so that you could feel how hard you made him. Once your wet pussy grazed his length, you couldn't help but continue moving your hips along it, making Namjoon's trousers wet.

"Fuck," he muttered against your chest. His fingers dug into your soft skin as he helped you guide your hips along his member. Your hair smelled so good that it made Namjoon's skin prickle with fever. He couldn't take it any longer.

Namjoon picked you up and laid you down on his soft bed. He pulled off his half-unbuttoned shirt and unbuckled his belt. He grabbed a condom from his nightstand and put it on although he wanted nothing more than tear it off and feel you raw.

"Come here," Namjoon almost growled as he pulled you back onto his lap. He let you stay on top although he was the one guiding you. A gasp-like moan caught in your throat as he entered you, making you feel so good. He moved his hips slowly at first, steadily as he watched your little pleasure-drunk frown. Your nails were digging into his strong chest, only making him more impatient. He guided your hips against him, your clit rubbing against his waist as you leaned forward. You began stroking yourself, the sight of it making Namjoon growl curses. He sat up properly and supported you in his strong arms as he made you take all of him. Your eyebrows were furrowed into a frown and your lips parted as you whined but it felt so good.

"Fuck ... Don't stop, don't stop," you begged as you edged closer. "I'm close," you whimpered just before your thighs quivered and Namjoon's thrusts made you wince after you climaxed. He was close too, so fucking close when he saw the expression on your face when you came.

Namjoon groaned against your chest when he came deep inside of you. The feeling of him throbbing inside your sensitive pussy made you whimper. You were breathing heavily in each other's arms, trying to find a way back from the high.

***

Your hands reached across the empty bed as you opened your eyes. It took you a moment to remember where you were and what happened. The memories brought a sharp blush to your cheeks as you sat up. You were wearing Namjoon's shirt and nothing else. The fabric still smelled like his perfume, giving you goosebumps.

You ran a hand through your messy hair as you stood up, your bare feet threading the cold wooden floors. For a moment your thighs quivered and your eyes widened. You remembered how good it was but even your body surprised you.

The first door that you opened was a bathroom and you couldn't be more grateful for it. After you gathered your clothes, you took a quick shower and washed away the makeup from last night.

When you made it back to the bedroom, a part of you hoped that Namjoon would be there and yet another was embarrassed to even look at him. You had never done anything like this before. You were always so calm and rational but last night something snapped in you. Everything had built up over the past few weeks and you just wanted to feel good for a change.

You made your way down the hallway and followed the sound of the TV news reporter. Namjoon was sitting on the sofa in front of a large TV and watching the morning news with the stocks information running at the bottom of the screen. He had a laptop open and a coffee in his hand. The apartment looked thrice its size in daylight and so lavish it made your stomach twist into knots. Maybe he really was the club owner.

You wondered whether you should say something at all or simply try and leave unnoticed. As you slipped behind Namjoon and almost reached the hallway, you bumped against an end table.

Namjoon turned around, his dark eyes finding yours.

"I'm just going to ..." you jumped around and gestured towards the door, letting him know you were going to be out of his way in a second. "I, um ... I left the shirt by the sink in the bathroom."

"Where are you going?" asked Namjoon and got up, forgetting completely about the stocks or the news or any of it.

"Home?" you suggested unsure. You had no idea how this worked. Based on what your more experienced friends told you, no one was lingering around for coffee and many of them were even asked to leave in the middle of the night or sleep on the sofa.

"Yeah, I know, of course," said Namjoon, a small smile creeping to his lips. He seemed much less intimidating now that he was talking to you rather than when he was frowning at the news. You almost forgot how handsome this man was but he reminded you simply standing in front of you.

"Do you want me to drive you?" he asked. Namjoon's voice was deep and dark but his brown eyes warm and inviting. "There's coffee too if you want."

You watched him unsure. His hands were in the pockets of his dark suit trousers and he wore a fresh new shirt as well.

"I, um ... Sure, coffee would be great," you smiled a little. "If it's not an inconvenience," you added quickly.

"Not at all," said Namjoon as he looked down at you. You looked different without your makeup and your hair done. You still looked perfect though.

You followed Namjoon into the kitchen where he grabbed some coffee. "I can try and make you some breakfast - try being the operative word," said Namjoon as he poured you some coffee.

"I'm sorry I really don't know what I'm doing right now," you said nervously as you hugged your arms. Namjoon turned to you, his brows in a small frown. "I've never done this before - should I've just left? I really don't want to impose if you're busy," you gestured to the living room behind you.

Namjoon rose his eyebrows as his eyes flickered to the TV before they tied back to your gaze. He placed a cup of hot, aromatic coffee on the counter before you and grabbed the remote. He turned off the TV and grabbed his own cup before he joined you in the kitchen.

"I'm not busy," said Namjoon. His hand brushed against your upper back as he made his way past you. Goosebumps rose on your arms.

"I'm curious," he confessed.

"Curious?" you rose your eyebrows, puzzled.

"Why did you do it this time?" asked Namjoon as you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed pink.

"I just ... It's a really long story," you shook your head.

"I've got time," he said and sat down beside you. You gave him another look, unable to tell if he was just being polite but he seemed genuinely interested - so you told him. You told him about your best friend and how she had been acting strange since she started seeing this guy over a year ago; how she slowly cut everyone from her life and how it was your turn now.

"This is going to sound strange but ..." you shook your head as you stared down at your coffee. "I think my heart's broken." Your voice was quiet and weak. You licked your dry lips and looked up at the man who was nothing short of a stranger to you but he was listening to you nevertheless.

"I know it's not like love - romantic love - but ..." you tried to explain and ran a hand through your hair. "I just can't believe this is fucking happening ...

"I'm perfectly aware that I have no right to judge - I've never even dated anyone—" you went on but that's the last thing Namjoon heard. His eyebrows furrowed into a frown as he looked at you properly. He couldn't make himself believe the words coming out of your mouth. You were one of the most attractive women he had ever seen. Every last curve of your body reminded him of last night and made Namjoon realize how he wanted you for himself and not just for that one night and the fact that you were free ...

"I should probably go," you said when you saw the frown on Namjoon's face. You should never have stayed in the first place. But when you jumped off the stool, Namjoon stood up as well and caught your hand.

"Have dinner with me tonight."

"W-What?" you stuttered.

"Dinner tonight," decided Namjoon. "I'll pick you up at seven."

Yoongi

The dancing alone had little effect on you forgetting about your horrible day. The music was bad and the drinks you and your friends ordered were so watered down it was practically money thrown out the window. There was only one thing that was keeping your attention - him. He must have been around your age or maybe a few years older but it was dark and you didn't particularly care. He was talking to the club owner or perhaps a manager when his dark eyes found yours. A sharp breath hitched in the back of your throat when he caught you staring. You looked away at your friends who were dancing beside you but when you turned around, he was still watching you. His eyes tore themselves away from you when the manager motioned towards the back of the club.

It must have been an hour since when you told your friends you wanted to leave but they continued dancing. You tried make your way through the pushy crowd. There were guys gawking at you in your beautiful dress and your hair done perfectly. A couple of them wanted to stop you from leaving and make you dance with them but you managed to slip from their grabby, sweaty hands.

"God," you breathed as you pushed open some side door and the cool air of the night filled your lungs. You closed your eyes and threw your head back as if you were looking up at the night sky. You hugged your bare arms when the night air made you shiver.

"No, man, I'm telling you she wants it, I saw her go out here—" a man was talking to his friend and laughing drunkenly as they pushed through the same door where you came out. You jumped around when the door burst open and the two guys appeared that tried to make you dance with them. Your stomach twisted into knots and your skin prickled hot with fear. Your friends were still inside and there was no way of calling them.

"Look, there she is, I told you," grinned one of the guys and pointed his rude finger at you. The looks in the guys' eyes were terrifying because you had seen them a thousand times before and you knew exactly what they meant.

The smell of cigarette smoke came from the shadows on the other side of the door, only a small orange light visible to you. Someone stepped into the light in front of you, walking casually as if he were on an afternoon walk. Him. He breathed out the smoke as he took a look at his cigarette butt wondering if there was another drag hiding in there. His back was to you when he flicked away the cigarette absently and stared up at the two guys. The ribald expressions drained from their faces before they began pushing one another as to who will get back inside first. The heavy door closed behind them with a loud thud.

The man turned around and took a good look at your eyes.

"I saw you in there," he said after a while. His voice was quiet but dark enough to give you goosebumps.

"I saw you too," you said weakly. The stranger took off his jacket and offered it to you. "You don't need to—"

"Take it," he insisted, not unkindly. You thanked him and slipped on the warm jacket that smelled of heavenly perfume and a little bit of cigarette smoke.

"Do you need a ride?" asked the stranger and glanced over his shoulder at the door.

You nodded a little. "Yeah, okay." The reason in you told you not to go with him but you decided to trust your instincts. Everything about him drew you to him like a magnet, and little did you know that he felt the same way about you since the moment he saw you dancing in the club.

"What's your name?" asked the stranger as he opened his car door for you. He was leaning his arm against the frame when you froze, the two of you only inches apart.

"It's Y/N," you breathed, unable to keep your eyes from glancing at his lips. He nodded weakly and gave you his name.

Yoongi asked where you wanted to go once you were out on the road.

"Home," you said quietly as you watched the flickering lights of the city pass by.

"Where's that?" asked Yoongi, one of his hands on the steering wheel when he turned to you.

"I don't know where you live," you found yourself saying as you looked at him. Yoongi's lips parted slightly, his pitch black eyes studying you. He looked back at the road and made a turn at the next crossroads.

You followed Yoongi up an alarmingly tall apartment building where his place was at the very top. Yoongi let you in first after he unlocked the door. He turned on some lights as you took off your heels. He was right behind you. One of his hands slowly made its way around your waist whilst he moved your soft hair to one side of your neck with the other. Yoongi kissed your hot skin as you closed your eyes and let him. Your hand went over his that was resting on your waist, your fingers locking with his. You never imagined a stranger's touch could feel so good.

You turned around and caressed Yoongi's cheek, leading him down to your height. You kissed him slowly at first, but his grip securing on your hips encouraged you to deepen the kiss. His hands moved down to your bum and thighs where his fingers dug into your soft skin. He picked you up and sat you on the large end table Yoongi stepped between your legs that wrapped around his waist. Your back arched as you didn't want to break the kiss. A hint of cigarette smoke lingered on his tongue but you didn't mind, not that night. All you wanted was for him to touch you.

Yoongi's hands caressed your thighs before one of them rose beneath your skirt. You gasped when two of his fingers caressed the wet crease in your lacy underwear. Yoongi's eyes opened and found yours. He couldn't believe how wet you were and how hard that made him. Yoongi kissed you deeply, his lips returning to you over and over again for short, hungry kisses. Another one of your gasps filled Yoongi's mouth when his fingers began stroking your sweet spot. The fingers of one of your hands balled around the hem of his shirt whilst the other was tangled in Yoongi's dark hair.

You could feel how hard he was when Yoongi took his hand away and pulled your hips closer. He picked you up and carried you to his bedroom, knowing his way around the dark apartment. Yoongi laid you down on his soft bed before he got up and took off his shirt.

"Help me," you whispered breathlessly as you got to your knees and turned around and pulled your hair aside. Yoongi unzipped your black dress, revealing the lacy back of your matching bra. He pulled the dress off your shoulders and kissed your there, leaving small bites along your soft, perfumed skin. You laid back down and let him pull off your dress completely.

Yoongi was watching you lie on his bed in nothing but your underwear, letting his imagination run wild. Your cheeks flushed pink under his gaze but it was too dark for him to notice. He knew, though, the moonlight was enough.

He took off his pants and grabbed a condom from one of the drawers of his nightstand. His hands were almost shaking with impatience.

Yoongi tasted the moan in your mouth when he entered you. Your nails dug into his back in pleasure as he began moving his hips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, closing in what little space there was left between your bodies. Every thought but one disappeared from your mind - nothing else mattered but the two of you in that moment.

You began to stroke yourself. You didn't think you would feel like it but everything felt so good so you wanted to try.

"Let me do it," said Yoongi, his voice almost a growl. He grabbed a pillow and placed it beneath your hips and replaced your hand with his. He continued thrusting with the same rhythm that made you feel so good but now his fingers were caressing you as well. A loud moan rose from deep within your throat as your hands balled around the bed covers. Your eyes watered from the pleasure you were receiving. Yoongi's eyebrows furrowed into a frown as he watched you take him and come closer and closer.

"Fuck, please don't stop," you begged. Your back arched and your toes curled in pleasure as you felt the release all over your body. Yoongi came just after you, his member pulsating deep inside of you. He didn't pull out right away but leaned down to you and kissed you again. You wrapped around arms lazily around his neck and pulled him closer, your kisses showing him how good he made you feel.

***

You woke up late in the morning, not being able to remember the last time you had such a good night's sleep. You sat up in the unfamiliar bed wearing a hoodie far too large for your frame, the memories of last night coming back to you. Your neck and cheeks flushed red and your skin began to tingle as you fell back into the soft bed and savored the flashbacks. Something was moving in the hallway, a pair of quiet footsteps. Your eyes flashed open as you sat back up. The footsteps left again.

You found your underwear scatted on the bedroom floor and slipped it on quickly along with your dress. You were still holding the cozy hoodie in your arms when you made your way down the hallway and found Yoongi sitting at the kitchen counter. There was a laptop opened in front of him and a coffee in his hand. He rubbed his eyes when he felt your gaze on him and turned to you.

"Hi," you said with a small smile but didn't feel any less awkward.

Yoongi closed the laptop behind him and stood up. "Hi," he exhaled as thoughts stormed behind his eyes. There was a look on his face that you could not read.

"Do you want some coffee?" he offered.

"Sure," you nodded and came closer as he grabbed a cup for you. You placed Yoongi's hoodie on the counter by his laptop. His eyes flickered to it before they returned to you face as he handed you the coffee.

"Thanks," you accepted the drink gratefully, just the scent of it giving you goosebumps.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi asked out of nowhere, catching you off guard.

"Me?" you blurted as you looked up at his dark eyes. He nodded a little. You wondered what he was thinking; you wanted to know so bad but there was no way of telling.

"I'm okay," you nodded before the two of you sat down at the counter together. "Why?" you almost whispered. Yoongi was watching your every move, every breath that you took that made your chest rise and lips part, your fingers tapping nervously against the white cup, the lashes surrounding your beautiful eyes that were looking at him in turn.

You didn't know it then but Yoongi read people for a living and that's why you couldn't read him.

"You've never done this before," said Yoongi. His voice was quiet and smooth but it made you feel almost as if it stripped you naked and not in a good way.

You licked your dry lips as your stomach twisted into painful, anxious knots. He hurt your pride, though, and that hurt even worse. "If you didn't enjoy it, why didn't you just ask me to leave?" you said, almost snapping because no matter how hard you tried not to care, you did.

Yoongi's expression went blank for a moment before he realized what you thought he was insinuating and a smile broke on his lips. "I enjoyed it, that's not what I was saying," he looked down and remembered every second of it. He enjoyed it, he enjoyed it too much - enough to make him want to keep you there forever.

For some reason, Yoongi's genuine reaction made your cheeks even redder but it also made you feel more comfortable, especially now that your pride has been restored and even swelled. His smile was warm and honest unlike the formidable frown you saw him wearing last night at the club. Although in all honesty, you doubted that those guys would have just turned around and left you alone if he hadn't.

"I was just wondering why did you do it?" explained Yoongi. You licked your lips again and looked down at your coffee. You shook your head a little as everything came back to you.

"My best friend decided to cut me out of her life and I wanted to forget about everything," you told the truth when you looked up at Yoongi. As he watched you, he wondered if you had been as close to your friend as he was to his brothers. Even if you weren't, he understood.

"Listen, I ... I was wondering if you could still take me home," you asked slowly and remembered what you said last night. "To my place, I mean ... If it's not too big an inconvenience."

"I'll take you," said Yoongi. "I'll need to know where to pick you up for dinner tonight."

Hoseok

You were dancing with your friends when your eyes locked with a gorgeous man sitting in the VIP section. He was having a drink alone until the security guard let a young man pass into his section. He seemed more like a school boy rather than an adult. The handsome stranger kept his eyes on you a moment longer before he turned to the kid and you found yourself blushing. You turned to your friends and tried not to think about him although it was easier said than done. When you turned around, however, the stranger was no longer there. You frowned a little but figured he was way out of your league anyways and continued dancing.

The club became more crowded by the hour. You pushed your way through the dancing crowd to the bar.

"Can I get a bottle of water, please?" you shouted at the barman over the loud music. He nodded absently, swaying to the rhythm of the music. As you looked across the packed club, you knew it was your time to leave.

"What are we drinking?" asked a smooth voice beside you. You turned and came face to face with the handsome guy from the VIP section.

"It's you," you blurted unintentionally although the loud music hid your surprise a little. The man had a smile on his lips that made your tummy swirl with butterflies.

"Here you go," said the bartender as he sat your bottle of water on the bar. His eyes went to the stranger beside you whilst you thanked him.

"Mr Jung, the usual?" asked the bartender. He stayed still this time and paid attention, no longer dancing to the music and taking orders absently.

You looked at the man beside you. He was smiling still as his eyes shifted between your water and back to your eyes.

"Do you want to have a drink with me?" he asked politely. You stared at him conflicted.

"I ... I was just about to leave," you confessed although the offer was more than tempting. Jung leaned down closer to you, his perfume giving you goosebumps, and you repeated what you said.

"You're not having a good time?" he asked, his eyes taking in every feature of your face.

"No, I did," you said quickly. "But there's too many people now."

"Somewhere quiet then?" asked Jung, his face only inches away from yours. You couldn't help but glance at his beautiful lips and bit yours. Your heart was beating against your throat with excitement.

You nodded.

Before you knew it, you were in a beautiful penthouse apartment sitting on a soft sofa whilst the man, who you learned was Jung Hoseok, opened a bottle of wine. For a moment, you thought that you were in a dream. You were a little tipsy from the club but only so much that you didn't worry about the little things and not enough that it would keep you from feeling slightly nervous.

You had a sip of wine.

"You okay?" asked Hoseok, now sitting beside you as you faced one another. "Want me to take you home?"

"No, I'm okay," you said truthfully. You had never done this before and in your imagination - based on what your friends told you - it was anything but this. The wine, the beautiful apartment, the gorgeous man who made even the most confident parts of yourself feel self-conscious. You imagined it would be in the back of a car somewhere with both you and the random guy you danced with drunk out of your minds.

"I saw the way you danced," said Hoseok, one of his arms outstretched towards you over the back of the sofa, nearly touching your hair.

You blushed and laughed a little. "I can't dance," you shook your head and placed down your glass. Hoseok did the same.

"I beg to differ," said Hoseok, his voice deep and quiet enough to make your heart skip a beat. Your lips parted as you sat only inches apart. Hoseok glanced at your lips before his gaze returned to your eyes. Your butterflies turned into fireworks.

You scooted even closer and caressed his cheek before your lips melted into a soft but passionate kiss. Hoseok's hand slip up your thigh and to your waist where his fingers dug into your soft skin. You couldn't suppress a small moan as he pulled you into his lap and deepened the kiss. Hoseok's hand moved from your knee, beneath your skirt and up your thigh.

You pulled away from the kiss breathlessly. "I've never done this before," you confessed, hoping that he won't change his mind.

"It's okay," murmured Hoseok against your lips, his eyes closed.

"No, not just the one-night stand," you said quietly but responded to his kiss. "I've never ..." You shook your head a little. Hoseok's eyes opened. You couldn't tell what it was that you saw; there was desire and disbelief and something else that you couldn't point out.

"I want to do it," you asserted before Hoseok could even ask. Your fingers were tangled in his hair. "If you're okay with it," you licked your lips, feeling his hot breath on your skin. Hoseok didn't have to say anything - his eyes spoke for him. He found your lips again. His hands slid beneath your thighs as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom.

Hoseok pulled off his shirt immediately before he helped you out of your dress. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with you between his legs as he took off your clothes and his dark gaze worshiped your body. His mouth was parted, a small shadow of a smirk hiding in the corner of his lips as he looked up at you. Your skin was prickling with fever when you pushed your hair on the side of your neck and kissed him. Hoseok pulled you down to his lap so that you were sitting on one of his thighs with your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips guided your kiss expertly. For a moment, you felt self-conscious about your lack of experience compared to him, but his touch made you forget about everything. One of his arms was locked around your waist whilst the other roamed up your thigh. Hoseok's fingers found their way beneath the hem of your underwear as he squeezed your bum tightly, making you moan against his lips. Hoseok took his hand back and traced the hemline of your waist until he reached the front but he never broke the deep kiss. His long fingers caressed over the fabric of your underwear and slid down to your pussy. His middle and ring finger grazed through your crease, finding the fabric completely soaked through. You gasped at his gentle but confident touch, your pussy throbbing beneath his fingers.

Hoseok pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes, a soft grin in the corner of his lips when he saw how needy you were. Your glossy eyes begged him not to tease you and he obliged. Hoseok kissed you again, more hungrily now as the fingers of his one hand dug into the soft flesh of your waist and of the other pushed your underwear aside and caressing you skin to skin. You whimpered when his thumb found your clit and drew circles against it whilst he stroked the rest of you with his two long fingers. Hoseok didn't even have to slide his fingers inside of you to make you come because you were already gasping and moaning against his neck. He decided to push you a little further and dipped his fingers inside of you. Another whimper filled your mouth, followed by a series of cries as you reached another climax and your thighs began to quiver.

"That's it," groaned Hoseok quietly against your ear as he let you rest against his neck. "Look how well you did." He wrapped both of his arms around you and held you close. If he hadn't already been rock hard from seeing your body and touching you, the look of drunken pleasure on your face would have done it for him.

Hoseok left small, tender kisses down your neck. "You smell so nice," he murmured when he felt your fingers run through the hair on the back of his head. You moved your lips to his shoulder and kissed him, slowly reaching up his neck and jaw until you found his lips. He tasted and felt so good that you never wanted to break the kiss and for a while longer your wish would be granted.

Hoseok took off his trousers and found a condom whilst you pulled off your underwear. His eyes watched you as you did so, another rush of desire shooting through him.

"Come here," muttered Hoseok as he climbed on top of you and pulled you closer. He found your lips again, kissing you and kissing you until you were breathless and reaching for him. A whimper-like moan escaped your mouth when he entered you slowly, his hand holding down one of your wrists. You frowned in pleasure as your fingers dug into the small of his back. Hoseok was watching you, checking on you although there was no need. You only wanted more.

Hoseok moved his hips, entering you deeper and deeper. You winced from sensitivity and pleasure whenever he touched your clit. You went to touch yourself but Hoseok took your wrists and pinned them beside your head as he stopped thrusting his hips. You opened your pleasure-drunk eyes and saw him watching you with an amused look in his dark irises.

"Not yet," he said to you and let go of your wrists as he almost sat up. He took in the sight of your body - little silvers of your come on your stomach where he traced his fingers, your breasts and nipples perfect to touch and kiss and stroke, but most of all the dreamy look in your eyes.

"Look at you ..." Hoseok said to himself. "How pretty you are for me, little kitten," he murmured as he came back down and gave you a kiss different from the others.

Hoseok began moving his hips again, this time his pace faster and his length entering you fully. Your mouth was full of soft moans as you inched closer again. Hoseok reached down and caressed your little sweet spot, making your thighs quiver in matter of seconds. Even as you came again, Hoseok didn't slow down but picked up his pace instead. His fingers were soaked with your come when he locked them with yours, his other hand propped against the bed when he came as well. He squeezed your hand tightly before he released it. Hoseok leaned his forehead against yours, his chest heaving as you felt him throb deep inside of you. Your legs were wrapped around his hips even after he was done and he was in no hurry of pulling out.

***

Come morning, a small moan caught in your throat as you turned in the soft bed and buried your face into the soft pillow. You stretched your sore legs before you blinked slowly and adjusted to the morning light. It took you a moment to remember last night, and when you did, your face was flushed and your eyes grew wide open. Your heart was pumping hard in your chest when you sat up and looked around the spacious bedroom. The mattress beside you was empty but you could hear little noises coming from the rest of the apartment.

You got out of bed and tiptoed around the carpet as you collected your underwear and your dress. The bathroom door was cracked open and you slipped inside. You got dressed and washed your face, holding a hand of cool water against the back of your neck as you struggled to clear your head of the memories of last night. Your insides were tingling with butterflies just at the thought of Hoseok touching your body - you didn't even know how you would look him in the eye later. Perhaps you wouldn't even have to, you thought, remembering all the stories your friends told you about horrible one-night stands. Your heart sunk a little at the idea, but on the other hand, you couldn't expect much else from this.

You brushed your hair with your fingers as you made your way down the hallway, following the sounds that were coming from the kitchen.

Jung Hoseok was standing behind the kitchen isle, a neat wooden tray sitting on top of it. There was a croissant, a bowl of mixed berries, a glass of orange juice and he had just placed a cup of coffee on there as well. His sharp eyebrows were arched in a frown and his lips were parted slightly. He wore a classic white shirt and a pair of elegant black trousers with a metallic watch glimmering on his wrist. Hoseok's dark eyes looked up at you suddenly when he felt someone watching him.

"Good morning," he spoke, his formidable frown replaced immediately with a warm smile like sunshine breaking through a storm. You blushed.

"Hi," you greeted as you fixed the thin strap of your dress and came a little bit closer. "Should I ..." you asked carefully, gesturing in the direction of the exit if you remembered correctly from last night.

Hoseok frowned a little. "You don't have to leave yet," he said, his eyes glancing down at your exposed shoulders. "I made you breakfast."

"It's for me?" you asked, the corners of your eyebrows curved downwards when you looked at the beautiful tray.

"Of course," smiled Hoseok. "Sit down." As he made his way past you, his hand touched your waist and his lips kissed your cheek.

"I'll be right back."

His touch left tingles on your skin as you watched him disappear down the hallway before you sat down at the kitchen isle. The fresh smell of berries and the crisp scent of the pastry invited you. You took the coffee first, however, and took a sip before you wrapped your cold hands around the warm porcelain.

"Here," said Hoseok when he appeared beside you. He handed you a soft black hoodie and you looked up at him surprised. There were goosebumps on your arms and the morning was much colder than the hot night when you were dancing in the club.

"How did you sleep?" asked Hoseok with a smile as he grabbed his own cup of coffee and sat down beside you after you pulled on his hoodie and melted into its softness.

"Great, thank you," you nodded and stole a few berries from the neat white bowl. You were about to ask him the same but he spoke first.

"How are you feeling?" Hoseok smile faded a little as a soft frown gathered on his handsome face. You stopped chewing for a moment, taken back by the question, and your cheeks grew pink.

"I'm okay," you said more quietly now and focused on your coffee cup.

"Are you sure?" asked Hoseok. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest as he took in every little detail of your beautiful face. He kept thinking how he should have been gentler and how he should have asked you more if you were okay. Hoseok was well aware that you were practically strangers but there was something that drew him to you, that made him want to protect you and take care of you at any cost.

Hoseok tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle gesture made you look up into his warm, dark eyes.

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'm great, it was great."

Hoseok studied your features a moment longer but you were telling the truth. In fact, your words were an understatement about how you felt about last night.

You bit your lip as you couldn't help but glance at Hoseok's lips, wondering what it would be like to have him kiss you again. But you knew it was just a one time thing and that you were done now.

You looked away but Hoseok saw everything and it made his heart skip a beat.

"Have dinner with me tonight?" he asked out of nowhere, the question sounding more as a statement. Your gaze shot up at him.

"What?" you almost stuttered.

"Have dinner with me tonight," Hoseok spoke again; this time there was no room for question.

"But ... you barely know me," you shook your head a little although the thought of it awoke every last butterfly in your body.

"I'll get to know you," said Hoseok quietly as a small smile grew on his features and he leaned in closer. Your eyes fell to his beautiful lips and a sharp breath caught in the back of your throat.

"Okay," you nodded weakly when you saw Hoseok's gaze shift from your eyes to your lips.

"Good." Hoseok closed the space between you as his lips found yours, making your tummy explode with fireworks.

[yoonmetogether]

Not In the Cards Masterlist

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader

genre: mafia, e2l, sloooow burn, age gap

summary: As the youngest daughter of the most powerful family in the country’s crime syndicate, you never thought you would be forced to takeover your father’s money-laundering casino. Due to unforeseen circumstances, you and your brother, Jungkook, are left in charge to carry on with business. But in the absence of your father and oldest brother, Seokjin, the two of you are targets of rival bloodthirsty mobs desperate for power and turf. You must be protected but the man who’s assigned as your bodyguard is someone you never thought you would see again. This wasn’t in the cards.

warnings: violence and murder (not explicit), one incident of partner abuse, guns, drugs, alcohol, smoking, gambling, smut (eventually), ANGST!!! So much angst, trauma, PTSD, character death

Snippet

Teaser 1

Prologue - 6.7k

Ch. 1: play nice - 19k

Prelude: strangers pt. 1 of 2 - 10.2k

Prelude: strangers pt. 2 of 2 - pending Ch. 2: ... - pending

[kawaikisses]

m.list ; Reading list.

Updated. Jan 22, 2024.

Note : I read k-pop idols x reader/ orginal female character fics, so this list is organized keeping that in mind, I do not personally have any issues with other genders, this is just my preference. Thankyou. If you hate unnecessarily, sincerely, no fucks will be given.

(everything is organized by alphabetical order)

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄.

angst .

fluff .

smut .

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐔’𝐒.

artist au .

arranged marriage au .

assassin au .

baker au .

bartender au .

BDSM au .

best friend’s brother au .

best friends to lovers au .

best friend’s sister au .

boyfriend au .

camboy au .

camgirl au .

camp counselor au .

CEO au .

chef au .

childhood friends to lovers au .

club au .

college au .

coworker au .

crime au .

dad au .

doctor au .

dancer au .

detective au .

divorce au .

enemies to lovers au .

established relationship au .

exes to lovers au .

fantasy au .

farm au .

father au .

friends to benefits au .

friends to lovers au .

fuckboy au .

fuckgirl au .

forbidden au .

gamer au .

god au .

hitman au .

horror au .

husband au .

hybrid au .

idiots to lovers au .

idol au .

king au .

lawyer au .

mafia au .

magic au .

medical au .

musician au .

neighbours au .

noona au .

one night stand au .

photographer au .

pirates au .

professor au .

prince au .

rich au .

road trip au .

roommate au .

royalty au .

second chance au .

secret relationship au .

sex worker au .

single parent au .

social media au .

songwriter au .

soulmate au .

spy au .

superhero au .

supernatural au .

tattoo artist au .

teacher au .

unrequited love au .

vampire au .

werewolf au .

wife au .

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒.

kim namjoon .

kim seokjin .

min yoongi .

jung hoseok .

park jimin .

kim taehyung .

jeon jungkook .

ot7 .

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄.

drama .

hurt/comfort .

magic .

mutual pining .

mystery .

romance .

slow burn .

thriller .

age play .

crack .

Note : please let me know if any of the links are not working. Thankyou.

Note : since Tumblr only allows 100 links per page, so this list will be continued in another page, which is linked down below.

↬masterlist continued .

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin ✨ || bts • kth [COMPLETED] masterlist

"you're afraid I won't wait."

"I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

[prequel in "the thieves collection" series - can be read independently!!]

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

»»»

list of all chapters:

prologue | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 1.0 | 1.1 | 1.2 | 1.3 | epilogue

— word count: 73k

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

— song recommendations/inspirations:

claire - neon love

v - fri(end)s

alexandra savior - but you

arctic monkeys - 505

bts - house of cards

solar - adrenaline

»»»

COPYRIGHT. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

IDEA/STORY/CHARACTERS BASED ON MY PREVIOUS JIMIN FANFIC "AMONG THIEVES" AND YOONGI FANFIC "A THIEF'S END".

contrary to the stories of jimin and yoongi in this series, which had a consistent storyline taking place in a specific time period, taehyung's story shows glimpses of how his and cassandra's friendship and relationship developed over the years. there's still action though, just like in the other stories!

PROTAGONISTS:

KIM TAEHYUNG AS HIMSELF; YOUNG THIEF / CHEEKY GUNMAN

SARAH HYLAND AS CASSANDRA; YOUNG DOCTOR / FEISTY GANGSTER FILM LOVER

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

NOT FREE FROM LINGUISTIC ERRORS - ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE.

DON’T BE A GHOST READER. LIKE, COMMENT & SHARE THIS STORY IF YOU LIKE IT :))

DEDICATED TO EVERYONE WHO’S READING THIS FANFIC! BUT ALSO ONCE AGAIN @taexual WHO HELPED ME WITH THE DESCRIPTION AND TO STAY MOTIVATED FOR MONTHS!

CHECK OUT MY OTHER STORIES AS WELL: HERE

-Elenixx

[gldrushh]

SUGAR AND SIN | JK

🧁✧ ˚. TITLE: Sugar and Sin.

🧁✧ ˚. PAIRING: Mafia boss! Jungkook x female oc

🧁✧ ˚. BLURB: Aurora Beckett had simple plans for the night: clean up the counter, finish boxing up the last batch of strawberry cupcakes, and maybe catch up on her favorite drama. Until the click of a gun spoiled the tiles of her bakery and her plans.

🧁✧ ˚. GENRE: Mafia au, grumpy x sunshine, forced proximity, slow burn, dark romance, crime/thriller.

🧁✧ ˚. WARNINGS: This chapter contains a violent scene involving murder, as well as mentions of nausea and a character passing out.

🧁✧ ˚. TAGS: oc is traumatized and on the verge of throwing up but she's also a little weird, jk is having fun cosplaying as a satanic entity for the night

🧁✧ ˚. A/N: This chapter's a lot shorter than the average word count I write but I hope it's intriguing enough for people to keep reading. Also please don't hesitate to type out your comments and opinions. I love to read them and stay informed with what clicks for you and for doesn't.

🧁✧ ˚. TAG LIST: @scuzmunkie ... (Please do let me know if any of you want to be added too.)

CHAPTER 1: AURORA

Aurora had two problems tonight.

Her frayed nerves that showed no sign of settling down any time soon, and the blood on the once-pristine white tiles of her bakery floor, which were sometimes grazed with flour and all that.

The latter and former both caused by a group of tall and dark figures of men that barged inside the dim lighted interior of her bakery that she was just about to pack up like they were out to hunt. From what she could see from the corner of the counter she was hiding behind and trying to squeeze herself further away into the darkness, the prey in question was another stumbling man who fell his way before them, backing on his palms as he slid on the floor, a messy trail of blood following right after him as the group of men loomed forward with a errie calmness. She visibly winced at that before taking advantage of the soft darkness and lifting her gaze up and instantly retreating back.

Gods, she had never regretted turning down Lia's offer to drop her home more than she did now. But no, she wanted to finish baking one last batch, just to get ahead for tomorrow.

Now she was hiding from men who looked like they made up the gateway of hell.

 

Clad up in all black with their forms blended into the shadows, save for the luminosity of moon light spilling through the window. They could’ve been anyone, anyone except the customers who regularly graced her small bakery. Definitely not the kind who ordered pastries.

She should have been afraid for her life. She was, in part. But another part of her was horrified at the blood—so much blood—coating the clean floor where she spent her days baking treats. A morbid thought crossed her mind: it was going to take forever to scrub that out.

She tried to shake off the absurdity of the thought and focused on the bigger issue that screamed that she was going to be the next one on their hit list. She doubted her capability to hide here, to hide her frantic heartbeat from all of them because it was all she could hear, until that changed too like her mundane nights.

"Done running?" A deep gravelly voice echoed louder than her heartbeat in the small space that was her bakery, followed with clear thumps of footsteps against the floor. And that's when her eyes took in the sight of a man who was probably what waited you inside that gateway.

He was wearing black too, of course, but somehow he stood out, and when he walked further, the other men looked nothing but mere shadows surrounding this larger unexplainable force.

"It was getting really fun." He drawled as if murder was a game, and the man cowering on the floor was just another player who had lost. It took all her might not to dig a hole somewhere here and hide further. It seemed to have the same effect on the cowering and trembling man on the floor as well that whimpered pleads for mercy which were unheard by lucifer himself and her as well because the sound of conflict in her head was louder.

She felt guilty and all kinds of words related to it because she was a present presence here, watching a man on the verge of getting killed in her property, doing nothing. She tried to fumble for her phone in the pocket of her apron as quietly as she could, but to her unfortune, it was on the far end of the countertop - a distance that felt like a mile now. She didn’t dare move, and the moral lecture she had rehearsed in her head earlier evaporated when she heard the sound of a gun clicking as well as her will scattering.

Her wide eyes that were going anywhere but the scene unfolding in front of her stopped at two inky voids like black ink splashed across a page, who found her before she could and was staring straight at her, penetrating through her very being as he too was crouching down on the floor, making a surge of panic run through her as the idea of her being seen settled in.

He saw her.

Her heart stopped.

Yet when she saw him stay blank and unamused as ever, even when he caught on an unexpected presence, she chose to second thought her plan to scream and run. Or she was forced to do so because his eyes had her frozen and stiff, unable to breathe.

Her heartbeat even came to a pause if that was possible, and then before she knew it was resuming that violent pace when she saw his lips moving. 

"Close your eyes."

Despite the pounding in her heart, she caught the words.

Yet she didn't obey, and that was the second time she felt regret flooding in the night when a quick click of the bullet leaving his cocked gun echoed around. The relief she felt for one moment when she wasn't on the receiving end of his chilling gaze washed away the moment the prey of a guy's brain spilled on the floor.

Blood. Blood. Blood. That was all in her line of sight as the man collapsed dead on the floor. Blood. Pooling around him. Blood. Everywhere. 

Aurora felt her throat work, her stomach twisted, a nauseous feeling overtaking her before she gathered whatever self preservation was left in her and forced her palm tightly against her mouth to not let out the sound of horror that was bubbling. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. But all she could do was press her back harder against the counter, eyes glued to the body now lying lifeless on the bakery floor.

Her eyes, unblinking, slid up to the man who had penetrated the life out of a once alive being. The man stood over the corpse, expression unreadable. The gun hung loosely in his gloved hand, as though the life he had just taken was of no consequence to him. As if this was routine.

It didn't suprise her but horrified her further.

Would she be the next on the floor with life draining out of her as well as her blood, begging for his non existing mercy?

Her answer was his eyes stopping at her quivering and crouched figure again from the corner.  Her vision had blurred over the time he was turned toward her after barking orders at his men—orders she couldn’t hear over the deafening roar of her heartbeat. She barely registered the sound of footsteps until they were close—too close.

And then, darkness.

With a last prayer to gods above, her body shut out with the last thing she saw before her eyes blacked out, being the devil coming for her.

To be continued...

[pjmmania]

To Be a Viper - Prologue

Content Warnings: mentions of death, illegal/forced drug use

—————

The twenty-seven-year-old brunette adorned his torso with a grey jacket to match his classic-cut pants. Beneath the jacket was a simple white button-up, with a few buttons left undone near the collar. Everything was freshly pressed and smoothed to perfection, courtesy of the maid.

Standing in front of a full-body mirror, he leaned down and toyed with his hair a bit. He wanted it parted in the middle and mostly out of his face. Past experiences informed him that this was the best way to arrange it when he wanted to attract the opposite sex, and tonight was an important catch.

Suddenly, the young man heard the doorknob twist. It made him stand up straighter, as he knew it was probably his boss. He was one of the few who had a copy of the key to this hotel suite.

Correct in his assumption, his eyes fell upon the man's reflection in the mirror as he entered.

The boss, who also served as an older brother figure to him, was clad in much more casual clothing. He wasn't the one going out on this little mission. It was a solo job.

Crossing his arms over his simple black t-shirt, the boss smirked and cocked a brow, "Ah, you went with the Celine."

The younger went back to fixing his hair in the mirror, "So I did."

"I would have gone with the Louis Vuitton," The boss shrugged, "With the pinstripes. I love a good pinstripe."

Eyes were rolled, but he knew it was a jest, "You asked that I pull out all the stops. Trust me, I've never missed with this one. Women love it.”

The boss hummed and took a seat in the plush brown armchair in the corner of the room. Not quite as comfortable as the ones he owned back home, but this grand hotel had managed to find furniture that compared somewhat. Somewhat.

"You are due to leave soon so I won’t take up much of your time. I came to remind you to be quick," The boss said, "And careful."

He chuckled lowly, "Quick and careful are not words I’d use to describe the average rendezvous between a woman and myself.”

The boss became irate. The situation was extremely delicate, "I'm fucking serious, Taehyung."

"And I'm fucking joking, Jimin," The younger turned around once more to look at his eyes and reassure him, "I'm not an idiot. I know the objective."

"Not the time for joking," Jimin scowled with a tight jaw and intense eyes, "You need to bring her back unharmed, understand me?”

"I won’t harm a hair on her head, hyung," Taehyung put his hands up in defense, "Jesus Christ."

The boss sighed and leaned forward in the chair, resting his arms on his quadriceps, "Well excuse me for feeling slightly uncomfortable with sending one of my assassins to go kidnap this one. I swear to God, the only reason I'm sending you is-"

"Because I'm the only face here that our enemies wouldn't recognize, I know. You've made that abundantly clear every time we've talked about this job," Taehyung muttered, "You need to just fucking relax, huh? I got this.”

Jimin didn’t appreciate the cockiness and nonchalance in his subordinate. He knew how Taehyung could be with women. And while he needed him to go out and do the job, the thought of him seducing this particular target left a sour taste. He got up out of the chair and walked up to the suited, arrogant man.

Taehyung took in the leader’s face. His eyes could tear through metal, callous and deadly. Jimin got close to his face, staring him down and speaking lowly, “I have no doubt that you ‘got this’ Taehyung. But let me make another thing abundantly clear to you. This job isn’t a chance for you to get your dick wet. So go, flirt all you want and make her want to leave with you. But if you make your flirtations physical, there will be hell to pay."

Taehyung was silent. This exercise of power wasn’t necessarily new, but the motivation behind it was. He and the others had never seen their leader become so fiercely protective over someone who wasn’t his own. Someone who was, at this point in time, a stranger to them.

The younger knew better than to push back any further. Finally, he dropped the tone, “I understand.”

Jimin nodded once, his searing eye contact unyielding, “Good. Now put on some cologne and head out. Jungkook is waiting for you with the car.”

Taehyung sighed and proceeded to follow instructions.

The boss remained glued to the same spot, hands in his pockets. Watching his junior finish up, he subconsciously bit the inside of his cheek, unsettled in his gut.

Over the many years he’d spent in the business, he’d grown numb to it all. The blood, the theft, the torture, the kidnapping. It was all just part of this enormous task that had fallen into his lap years ago. Tonight, however, caused a stir within him. The nonchalance had been drained from his demeanor, replaced by a deep concern.

Before he noticed, Taehyung was at the door of the hotel suite, ready to leave, “Alright, I’m set. Anything else?”

Jimin’s gaze turned the opposite direction, towards the window at the other end of the room. Seoul was on the other side of that glass, aglow in the night. Busy, bustling, alive. The streets filling with people who had clocked out of work a few hours ago, now ready to let everything fall away at some bar or nightclub.

“Jimin?”

The older of the two didn’t move. His mind pondered various responses to Taehyung’s question. As much as he wanted to reiterate his order to be careful, there was no need to go down that road again. He knew all he needed to know.

“No,” Jimin said, “That is all. I’ll meet you back here in the morning.”

The door shut, and the job commenced.

The boss let out a breath he didn’t realize he was withholding, posture falling slightly.

This is really happening, he thought.

What he wanted least in the world was coming to pass - seeing you again.

He tried so hard for so long to avoid this. Bringing you into this mess was to inflict a permanent wound on you that would never heal. Old memories of you flashed in his mind. Some almost brought a smile to his face, only to be tainted by the fact that he was about to erase that version of you forever.

He remembered the day he said goodbye to you unknowingly for the last time. Had he known, he would have held you tighter, longer. He would have told you how much your friendship meant to him. How bright you made his days.

- Eleven years ago -

The cold steel of the locker created goosebumps on his arm as he leaned against it. The final bell of the day had rung and the hallway was flooded with students, some brushing against his other arm by accident in the swarm to exit the building.

Seventeen-year-old Jimin let out a sigh, pushing a few pieces of hair out of his face when he saw this one clique of girls pass by. He knew a few of them crushed on him and, though he'd never admit it, he enjoyed doing small things like that to work them up. One of them was named Hana. She was the one he had his sights on. An adolescent male like him couldn't help it.

Then you appeared and Jimin picked his backpack up from the floor, slinging it over his right shoulder. He also moved himself away from your locker so that you could access it.

"Hey you." You sighed as you used your typical greeting.

"Hey you. What took you so long?" He chided you, "Usually you're the one waiting for me."

You put your bag down with a huff, "Sorry. I had a question for Mrs. Choi after class and apparently so did many others."

Jimin, as per routine, took the opportunity to make fun of you, "Fucking dork, having questions about art history of all things."

You took it on the chin and returned the fire with a smirk, "You're one to talk. You stay after calculus all the time."

You dialed the correct series of numbers to unlock your locker and opened it.

"Advanced calculus." The ham corrected you.

Your eyes rolled as you retrieved your things from your locker and stuffed them into your backpack, "Whatever. The point is, we're both dorks. Just for different things."

Oh how he relished getting under your skin like that. He loved how your face looked when you became flustered. You might have been able to put on a grin, but your eyebrows would remain the tiniest bit serious. Having been your close companion since he was seven and you six, Jimin was an expert on your every expression.

"Hurry up, will you?" He continued pushing your buttons, "I'd like to get home."

You let out an audible sigh this time - another point for Jimin in the game of vexing you, "Then why don't you just leave without me and I'll walk?"

He laughed, "Because your parents would revoke my invitation to dinner with you guys on Sunday night."

You chuckled as you zipped up your backpack, "You know they would never. You're like a son to them. You and your brother. They wouldn't have you guys alone in that giant house while your parents are away for the weekend."

The two of you finally began your walk out of the building and into the parking lot. His car was always tucked away at the back of the lot.

Though your friendship was strong enough for both of you to feel relaxed with silent air between you, there was something you had been meaning to bring up. It was your turn to tease him.

"So," You said with a hint of mischief, "I heard Hana is having a party tomorrow night."

You watched his face change. His lips pursed as he tried not to smile. However, this attempt to appear unbothered was futile.

Your arms brushed together as you nudged him, "You going?"

Jimin shrugged and kept his focus on the way ahead, "I may drop by if I hear it's a good time."

You laughed, "Just go. You know she's only having it because she wants you to fuck her again."

His face went slightly red, causing him to dip his head down and chuckle. Then he lifted his gaze to meet your teasing eyes, "I am not used to you talking like this, Y/N. So vulgar these days. The fuck happened to you?"

"Sorry," You giggled, "No need to be too concerned, though. Despite the words I say, you know I have no actual experience in that department."

You came upon his car at last. Jimin unlocked it, causing the lights to flash twice. As he threw his backpack into the back seat, he said, "Well when you do, feel free to not tell me every detail."

"You're avoiding the topic at hand," You said as you got situated in the passenger seat, "You're going to the party, right?"

"Yes," Jimin let out an exasperated laugh, "Jesus Christ, Y/N. I'm going. Happy?"

You made a face and played with the strap adjusters on your bag, which was resting on your lap, "I mean I'm grossed out at the thought of you and her...doing stuff."

Jimin closed his door and turned on the engine, "You mean me fucking her?"

"Ew, Jiminie!"

"Hey, I'm just using the same term you did."

"Lesson learned.” You huffed.

Jimin smiled. There was that flustered face of yours again. He found it cute and naive as you tried to speak the language of your peers. It just didn't come naturally to you.

He pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive to your house, which was conveniently on the same street as his. You both lived in a beautiful, gated community, home to the most illustrious families in Seoul. You moved in when you were just a small child. Jimin and his brother were the only other kids around, so naturally your families became close. You'd grown up together, gone to the same private schools, and hung out in the same social circles. To an outside eye, you appeared inseparable.

Did it deter some prospects away from both of you when it came to matters of the heart? Undeniably, yes. But it wasn't enough to force you to give up on your friendship. After all, girls seemed to be all over Jimin despite his closeness to you.

The car ride was filled with more banter, some gossip, and discussion of weekend plans. He was hanging out with his guy friends that night and going to Hana's party the next.

As always, the time passed quickly and he was pulling up your driveway before you realized.

You got out of the car, throwing your backpack over one shoulder, "Alright, I'll see you Sunday, I assume."

"Wait, you're not going to Hana's tomorrow?"

You smirked, "I'd rather not witness your flirtations."

"Oh come on," He tilted his head and grinned cheekily, "Her house is enormous. You wouldn't have to see me at all. It will be fun."

You considered it and decided maybe it could be fun. If it was bound to turn into a big party, then all of your other friends would be there too.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, “I guess I’ll go. We are Ubering, though. I’m not being your designated driver this time.”

You had turned sixteen a few months back and your parents were beginning to trust you with drinking with friends. They weren’t thrilled, as you were technically still underage, but they knew the culture and accepted it in certain circumstances. As long as you abided by your curfew and didn’t get into trouble, it was fine.

Jimin smiled at you with both eyes and lips, "I knew you'd come around. See you tomorrow."

"Bye Jiminie." You closed the passenger door and waved.

Then he reversed the vehicle out of your long black driveway. By the time he drove away in the direction of his own home, you had already turned your back to him.

__________

That was it, the last time he saw you. It was an unceremonious end to a treasured, deep friendship. The following day, the Park Family moved away. Over the following weeks, both of your lives turned upside down, but in very different ways.

That kind of light had evaded his life since you parted over a decade prior. Sure, he had made deep bonds with the men who worked for him. They were his brothers - he would and had killed for them. Still, nothing compared to the companionship he had with you. It was so innocent and sweet, a reminder that he used to exist in the world unplagued by this madness.

Jimin turned around to face the mirror. The man who reflected back was radically different from the boy who grew up with that sweet, vivacious girl. His face was sharper and his eyes darker, carrying a sinister look about them that struck fear into those who dared to cross him. His hair was an ashy blonde color, a consequence of having to change his appearance from time to time. In this business, that was par for the course.

Taehyung's suite included a kitchenette. Jimin went over to the little bar area and swooped up a fifth of whiskey. He gulped twice before twisting the cap back on and setting it down. He would return to his own suite and wait for the notification of your arrival.

"Why are we doing shots of whiskey?" you whined, "I hate whiskey."

Your elder cousin, Aera, snickered as she practically forced the full shot glass into your hand, "Because we're fucking celebrating!"

Your other cousin and Aera's twin brother, Eoduun, joined in the silliness by raising his glass in the middle for a toast, "To our Y/N, who is finally back in Seoul after three long years abroad. Studying paintings and shit in Europe."

"Being an art curator." You corrected with a shake of your head, though you couldn't help but laugh.

Eoduun paid no mind and went on, "May this night remind her of all the good things about Seoul and convince her to move back."

You put your hand over your eyes and kept shaking your head as the three of you clinked your small glasses together. When it came time to down the dark liquor, you braced yourself and made it quick.

You winced when it passed your tongue, "Damn that's awful. If anything, don't you think soju would be more appropriate after not being in Seoul for so long?"

Aera played with your hair a bit, "Look around you, Y/N. This is the nicest, most exclusive nightclub in the city. No one wants soju here. They come here for something different than the everyday."

Observing your surroundings, you saw that she was right. No one had bottles of soju at their tables. It was all expensive champagne and top-shelf liquors. People were loud and dressed to the nines, some sitting at quilted red velvet booths and others standing at the various bars and pool tables. You would be hard-pressed to find anyone clad in non-designer clothing.

As for you, a black sleeveless mock-neck top underneath a beige Ralph Lauren blazer did the trick. You paired it with a black mini-skirt and the signature red-bottom pumps. A habit you picked up in Europe was dressing in the classics. Stick to that, and one can never appear out of style.

“Anyway,” Eoduun leaned forward across the table, his glossy black hair reflecting the blue and purple lighting above, “Are you here to stay?”

You pursed your lips together. It was endearing that they clearly wanted you to move back home - only it didn’t feel like home for you anymore. Not since you lost your parents. Their deaths left you feeling untethered to this city, regardless of the fact that your Uncle Yohan and cousins still resided within its bounds,

“I don’t know,” you fibbed, “Maybe. I do really enjoy Europe.”

Aera hummed, “The museums, the statues, the elegance, the old money.”

“Which is funny, because you come from some of the oldest money in this country.” Eoduun added.

Thankfully, the twins dropped the subject after that. It was obviously making you squirm, and tonight was about having fun.

The drinks began flowing steadier. You danced, laughed your heart out, and reminisced on old times. The latter occurred when you were sitting in your booth, significantly less sober than when you arrived.

The stillness of sitting down gave your mind the bandwidth to wander to all sorts of things about your past. A dangerous game for you, as it always led you to what you hated remembering the most - or rather, who.

The Park boy who disappeared abruptly all those years ago. The friend who was ripped out of your life without so much as a proper goodbye or warning. It left a scar deep inside you that you never wanted to graze. Yet every now and then, in drunken moments like these, his beaming face would flash across your mind. Maybe he and his family moved away, or maybe he was dead. You had no idea.

You learned over the years not to verbalize his memory. If you didn’t bring it up, it would fade away faster and the feeling inside you would pass.

It helped that Aera was a chatty individual, always having something else to talk about. With a slurred vocabulary, she began asking you about the lack of sunshine in London or something like that. It was unclear to you, because right at that moment, you caught the eye of some stranger standing at the bar.

Perfect timing, you thought. An even better distraction had come along to save you.

He was in a beautiful grey suit, peering at you with eyes unlike any you’d ever seen. His face was otherworldly, and when he smiled? Oh, that smug little grin was more attractive than you would have preferred to admit.

Your cousins noticed you staring.

“Y/N’s got a little heartthrob over there.” Eoduun remarked.

“Go talk to him!” Aera encouraged with an obnoxious giggle, “He’s hot!”

“No,” her brother protested, “This is a family outing.”

“Oh let her live!” She returned.

“Yeah, Eoduun,” you smirked back at him, “Let me live. Then maybe you can go strike up a conversation with that girl in the sequin dress you’ve been gawking at all night.”

“Not interested, actually,” he said in between sips of his scotch, “Something about the way she carries herself that I don’t like.”

“What high standards,” the other twin rolled her eyes and then turned her focus to you, “Go talk to him. Just text us if you plan on leaving with him.”

You smiled and gave her a familial kiss on her cheek as a means of thanking her.

That gorgeous man watched you rise from your seat and maintained his grin. You subtly adjusted your skirt as you approached him, hoping your gait didn’t appear too intoxicated and trying not to stumble in your heels.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked you. His elbow rested in the bar top, while his other hand was occupied with something on the rocks.

You played with your handbag a bit, “That’s funny. I saw you staring at me and came over to ask you the same thing.”

He chuckled, “Taehyung.”

“Y/N.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you in jest,“You haven’t answered my question, Y/N.”

You laughed and further closed the gap between the two of you, “You can get me a drink, as a matter of fact.”

“I’d be much obliged.” He nodded, setting his own drink down on the counter. He then shifted his body to make room for you to come stand next to him, “What will you have?”

You had been consuming mostly gin-based cocktails the whole night. You thought it better to stick with that and requested a dirty martini. Taehyung ordered it for you.

As the bartender began the creation of your next beverage, you continued to chat, “A nice suit, Taehyung. What is it, Celine?”

The handsome man raised his brows and chuckled, tilting his glass toward you, “Very good. You have an eye for fashion, clearly.”

You noticed his gaze scanning your own attire and detected a hint of lust behind it.

Taehyung remarked, “I’m afraid I can’t name the designer, but I do find it ravishing.”

You giggled as the bartender handed you the martini, “Ravishing? What an old-fashioned word.”

“You strike me as someone who likes the classics,” he shrugged, “Besides, I’m a gentleman, Y/N. I would never dream of offending a woman with lower terms…Unless she wanted me to.”

That did it. Your cheeks felt warm with infatuation. You tried to mask the smile that was begging to appear from your glossed lips. Still, you had to play the game if you wanted this to keep going.

Successfully you reeled in the giddiness and replaced it with a relaxed, confident smile. You simply clinked your glass with his as a reply. This caused your newfound companion to bite his bottom lip ever so slightly in a smirk.

The two of you continued to talk over the next hour. You learned he was raised in Geochang and had a job in some marketing firm in the city. When asked the same question, you told him that you were born and raised in Seoul, having recently returned from a stint abroad curating art. He seemed to find that fascinating and asked for more information about your favorite pieces and whatnot.

He would touch your hips occasionally, increasing your want. You wondered when he would lean in for the kiss or take you out onto the floor to dance. However, it was unbeknownst to you that he had been given strict orders not to cross that line.

His boss failed to mention that adhering to this guideline might be challenging. He said nothing about you having a wit or your seduction tactics. This job was proving to be a test of Taehyung's restraint.

Eventually, you saw Aera and Eoduun leave their booth and hit the dance floor, no longer paying mind to this interaction.

It was while you were looking away to locate them that Taehyung made the killing blow.

He propped his elbow up on the bar to appear casual to any wandering eyes. When the coast seemed to be clear, he lowered his hand as if to lay it on the surface of the counter. During this millisecond, he dropped the small substance into your drink.

You turned back to face him a few seconds later, none the wiser.

As you took another sip of your drink, the man texted on his phone briefly and discreetly. You enjoyed how suave he looked doing even the most basic things.

As the flirtations went on, Taehyung observed you doom yourself sip after sip. He knew that time was running out, so he leaned into you and said directly in your ear, "It's getting a little rowdy in here, huh?"

You put on a charming smile and leaned right back into him, touching his upper arm with your free hand, "I couldn't agree more."

You were so close that you could feel his exhale on your nose. He said lowly, "Would you like to go back to my place? I have some art you can critique."

You laughed, and then nodded, "I'd love to."

As he led you toward the exit of the club, you remembered to shoot Aera and Eoduun a text. Doing so proved a bit difficult - your vision was getting a little fuzzy. You chalked it up to having one too many drinks and nothing more.

Your escort noticed that you had looped your arm in his. You played it off as a cute little gesture, but the reality was that you needed the support to walk in a straight line. Taehyung knew the signs of the drug taking effect, and this was certainly one of them.

He sped things along, hoping to find his colleague waiting for them on the curb as planned.

By the time the two of you reached the doors, the black Range Rover with tinted windows was parked and ready to go.

"Here we are." The man in the grey suit grinned.

You were now in considerably worse shape and asked, "Did you...did you call us an Uber?"

"Of course I did," Taehyung played it cool and put his arm around you to offer more support without drawing too much attention, "Luckily he was in the area and could get here in a minute."

"Oh. That's convenient."

When he opened the door to the backseat, he made immediate eye contact with the driver, Jungkook. You were too busy stepping up into the vehicle to notice the two of them nodding at one another.

Your new acquaintance climbed in after you and shut the door.

The driver played the part well and asked, "How are you both doing tonight?"

You could see his round, curious eyes in the rearview mirror. While Taehyung shot him a glare, you replied, "Great, though a little drunk."

Jungkook chuckled as he put the car into gear. He got a kick out of playing with people like this, especially when his boss wasn’t around to chide him for it.

The Range Rover rolled back into the correct lane and began the short drive to Josun Palace, the most opulent hotel in the city.

In the backseat, you started to lean your head on Taehyung’s shoulder. You had slipped into the blackout territory.

The man sitting next to you told the driver, “Hurry up, will you? I think she needs to get to bed.”

Jungkook glanced back at you in the rearview mirror. He had to reach their destination with haste, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to walk yourself up to the suite and draw attention.

A couple minutes later, they arrived. Jungkook parked the car and together they whisked you out and hurried you inside. You were too far gone to even notice that you weren’t at Taehyung’s apartment, but at a hotel.

You were muttering things they couldn’t understand, vision extremely distorted. Your legs felt like they were barely attached to you. The only thing that really registered with your system was the change in lighting, from a night sky to artificial brightness.

The two men moved with urgency, yet hid it by acting all happy. They made it look as if the three of you were hammered, laughing and talking. This diminished any concerns others might have had for you. You were simply a group of intoxicated young people, not a kidnapping in-action.

The journey up to the top floors felt like ten hours to you. When the elevator let out onto the correct floor, you were in the final stages, ready to pass out at any moment.

The two abductors moved swiftly, Taehyung pulling out his room key.

Their boss was waiting for them inside, sitting in a lounge. The room was dimly lit, curtains shut.

Park Jimin had seen many disturbing things in this life. He’d seen bloodshed, gore, unimaginable horrors. Things that seemed impossible to make amends with and yet he had. The sight before him now, of you, eyes halfway closed being held up by his men, was another matter. It twisted his guts.

You looked so pathetic, so weak. Your body was almost entirely limp, head hanging low.

The boss’s jaw clenched as he swallowed, "Well done, both of you."

Taehyung scoffed, "I did most of the work."

Jimin glared at him, "Shut the fuck up and get her on the bed."

They followed his order, one scooping you up by the knees and the other by your shoulders. You were hoisted onto the bed, now fully unconscious.

The leader approached you with a caution that left his subordinates confused. He was slow and silent, observing your faltered body. His face showed resolve, but his body language showed regret. He wished for years that this would never have to happen, and it had come to pass.

Jungkook asked with hesitation, "Are we...Are we good?"

Jimin looked at them and nodded once, "Yes. However, I've decided to stay here with her. Tae, get your stuff. You may sleep in my suite instead."

Within a few minutes, the pair left. The boss pulled a chair up next to the bed and began his watch over you. The drug would likely induce some unfavorable side effects and he was best positioned to care for you if and when they appeared.

He turned off all other lights in the suite, save one lamp on the nightstand between you and him. It provided enough lighting for him to study your face. Your features were completely relaxed, some of your eye makeup smudged, lips slightly parted.

It was still close to unfathomable that he was really looking at you, after all the years. Jimin had taken you back into his life by force, and a few hours prior, it felt terrible. But now that you were here in his sights, there was a twinge of happiness in his hardened heart.

For the rest of the night, Jimin sat in that chair, occasionally dozing off and waking himself back to a state of alert. Waiting for you to wake up, and wondering what would happen when you did.

[chaoticpuff17]

When The Chips Are down

masterlist

part 28

After the disaster that the wedding had been, Namjoon had rushed Y/N and Nara home where he proceeded to put the entire mansion on lock down. No one was to come in or go out that Namjoon had not explicitly approved to do so. He had become slightly paranoid, not that Y/N could blame him for that. She was a little paranoid herself after everything that had happened, and even if she had been one of the people approved to leave the estate, she didn’t think that she would have wanted to. She much preferred to be safe and sound behind the high walls of her cage where nothing could hurt her or her baby. Namjoon for all his faults was at least very good at making sure that nothing could touch them within the heart of his own territory.

While she’d managed to slip away from him before in the past, Namjoon had very much improved the security of his home after her multiple escape attempts and her several successes. He wasn’t taking any chances with the security of his family. The wedding had only hardened that resolve. Nothing was slipping past him this time.

His paranoia and drive to find out who exactly had sabotaged Hoseok and Iyla’s wedding kept him out of Y/N’s hair for the most part. He was a busy man to begin with, but with this he was like a dog with a bone. The staff of the estate likened it to when he was searching for her during what Miss In very politely referred to as her long absence only this time the goal wasn’t retrieval but retribution.

He knew full well that the Lee family had something to do with it all, but Y/N didn’t think he’d yet put together Mark’s involvement, and that was a piece of information that she was keeping closely guarded. While his willingness to put herself and her family in danger had been heartbreaking, she wasn’t willing to turn him over to Namjoon for it. She didn’t want him dead, and she knew that was exactly what Namjoon would do if he were to find out about him involvement. Y/N very much doubted that Hoseok would have a less severe reaction either. It was his wedding that had been ruined and his bride that had been put in danger.

Thankfully Iyla hadn’t been injured during the debacle. Hoseok has very quickly gotten her to safety before rejoining the fray. While deeply shaken by the incident, Iyla was physically unharmed by it. She and Hoseok had even gone on their honeymoon despite it all. The rest of the boys had insisted that they would take care of everything while Hoseok enjoyed the time away with his new wife though the thought of it didn’t sit well with Y/N. Nothing about the marriage had though, and she didn’t get a say when it came to whether or not they would stay or go.

Namjoon assured her that Iyla would be perfectly safe in Hoseok’s care, and Y/N didn’t doubt that there wouldn’t be another incident. It wasn’t Hoseok that had been the target at the wedding, but the idea of her baby sister on a honeymoon with a man she despised left a bitter taste in Y/N’s mouth even if she was grateful that it was Hoseok that had kept her sister safe during the shootout. She still wasn’t fond of him though. There was too much darkness that lingered behind the cheery persona. It also didn’t help his case that he was the reason that Iyla would never be free of Namjoon and his world.

Part of her held onto fantasy that if Hoseok had never taken a liking to her sister she would have been able to strike a deal with Namjoon for her freedom. She knew that she couldn’t broker such a deal for herself or her daughter, but Namjoon held no such attachment to her sister. Iyla was a convenient threat to hang over her head, but if her freedom could be used as a bargaining chip to get her to comply, Y/N had no doubt Namjoon would have taken full advantage of it if not for Hoseok’s involvement in it all. She was also certain that he would have demanded something just as substantial in exchange.

Unfortunately, that was not how anything had played out. Hoseok had taken a keen interest in her sister, and Namjoon was all too happy to approve the match. It had all be decided before she’d even been present to try to fight for her sister’s freedom. She could understand that in some ways Hoseok’s marriage to her protected Iyla from Namjoon. There was nothing extreme that he could do to her in an effort to control or punish Y/N while she was married to a man that he considered a brother. It would go against the great respect and affection that the seven men held for each other. As twisted as they were, they were a family in their own rights, and they protected each other and their own like family.

While there was nothing she could do to help her sister, there was plenty to keep her occupied within the confines of her own home though she was still loath to refer to the estate as such. Nara took up a good portion of her time, and Miss In had begun to explain a little more of the inner workings of how the house was run.

While Y/N didn’t manage any of it directly most things were still brought to her for approval. One of the maids had been proposed to by her fiancee and was leaving her position, and Y/N needed to look over the candidates for the opening all of which had already been strictly screened by Miss In. Did they want to add any new flowers and plants to the garden in the spring or would they be ordering the same annuals they always did? She looked over weekly menus provided by the chef. It all gave her a small sense of control even if it was an illusion. Miss In was still very much the one in charge of the household, but she was a kind woman who respected that this was technically Y/N’s home even if she didn’t want it to be, and a woman should have some say in the running of her own home.

Slowly the estate was beginning to feel more and more like her domain, not in its entirety but little pockets that she could call her own. They helped to keep her sane in the life that Namjoon had crafted for her. It also helped that everyone who worked within the estate, except for perhaps Namjoon’s goons who acted as security, didn’t treat her as a prisoner. She was treated respectfully and kindly as the lady of the house. It was a small mercy that helped to make her feel slightly more normal despite the abnormality of her situation.

This and many other thoughts ran through her head as she spent her afternoon in the kitchen. Nara was down for a nap, and her fingers had been itching to do something, and she had a craving cinnamon rolls. She didn’t often get cravings, but a couple times a year, the idea of a certain food would take hold, and eventually she would cave and make it. Cinnamon rolls had just happened to be the one to take hold this time, and they were easy enough to make and to share. She wouldn’t really want more than one, but there were plenty of people who came in and out of the house on a regular basis who could enjoy them.

She was just beginning to knead the dough when she felt an arm circle around her waist, her husband pressing himself up against her back and peering over her shoulder. No one else would have been so bold as to touch her like this.

“What are you making, jagiya?” He asked, looking curiously as the lump of dough on the counter, the staff choosing to ignore the pair knowing that Y/N wouldn’t let him get himself into too much trouble.

Namjoon rarely if ever ventured into the kitchen. She’d been informed by the staff there that once Namjoon had gone into the kitchen after the normal work day was done in the late hours of the night and attempted to fix himself some coffee and something to eat and had managed to set something on fire. Oak Soon, the woman in charge of the kitchen, had been terrified of allowing him any leeway in her kitchen ever since and someone was always on call in the late hours in case Namjoon or any other member of the family should need something. Because Namjoon’s presence was unwelcome there and hers was not, Y/N found herself spending little pockets of her free time there. Oak Soon was not opposed to her cooking and baking things for herself so long as she didn’t set anything on fire or injure herself, and after hearing of Namjoon’s kitchen disaster, she wasn’t too keen on letting him get into anything either.

“Cinnamon rolls.”

Namjoon hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “Any particular reason?”

Y/N shrugged, reaching for the flower to sprinkle a little more over the sticky dough. “I had a craving.”

Namjoon chuckled a little at that. “You realize the staff would have happily made those for you.”

She shrugged again. “I know, but I wanted to do it myself. You’re back early.” Namjoon’s pursuit of the culprits of the wedding disaster had kept him out of the house more than not in recent days.

“I can’t miss my wife?”

“No.”

The word came out flat as she continued with her task, acting as though Namjoon weren’t hanging off her asking for her attention.

Namjoon sighed, releasing her and moving to stand beside her at the counter. “Taehyung kicked me out of the office.”

Y/N paused, looking at him incredulously from the corner of her eye. “He kicked you out? Of your own office?”

“He said I was getting on his nerves.”

“Ah.” She nodded, understanding perfectly why the younger man had sent him packing. “You’ve been micromanaging.”

Namjoon made a noise of protest. “I have not!”

“Then why did Taehyung kick you out?”

Namjoon stayed silent for a moment, pouting at being called out for his behavior. “I may have been micromanaging.” He admitted as she went back to kneading the dough. “It just doesn’t make sense. Lee had no reason to disrupt the wedding like that. He may not like us very much, but even he knows how stupid of a decision that was. Someone else had to have been involved for him to get himself entrenched in this. He wouldn’t have the spine otherwise.”

Y/N froze, hands resting on top of the log of dough. “Do you know who he was working with?” She asked softly, her breath caught in her throat as she waited to hear if Mark had been found out or not.

“Not yet, but we will.” Namjoon promised, a dark glint in his eye. She let out a shaky breath, causing Namjoon’s attention to snap back to her. “It’s alright, jagiya. We’ll find out who did this. Nothing is going to happen to you or Nara.” He promised, gently turning her to face him and completely misinterpreting the cause of her unease.

“I know. I know you won’t.” she agreed, refusing to meet his eye. He was always so perceptive, and she worried that he’d somehow figure out Mark’s involvement just by looking at her.

It was a ridiculous thought. There was no way that he would be able to tell just by looking at her, and if he had his suspicions she knew well enough that he wouldn’t be above asking her directly just as he had all that time ago when Jackson had been poking around and causing headaches for him as he’d been searching for her. She could only pray that Taehyung wouldn’t notice Mark on the CCTV footage from the venue, and that Mark was smart enough not to attend the ceremony itself and get himself caught in the video of the ceremony.

“You should let Mrs. Park finish this.” Namjoon fussed, already half convinced that she should go and rest. He’d been particularly mother hen-like since Nara’s birth, her own near death having scared him more than he would like to admit.

“I’m fine, Namjoon. I can make a batch of cinnamon rolls.” She huffed, brushing him off and returning to kneading. “Besides, these need to be set out to rise anyway and the first proving takes a while. The dough will need to sit. I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Jagi…” He began, using that infuriating placating tone that he used when he was trying to convince her to do things his way when she was set against it. “You’ve had a shock, a trauma.”

“Every day with you is traumatic.”

“Jagi.”

She bristled. “I don’t see what that has to do with cinnamon rolls, Namjoon.”

“You shouldn’t strain yourself.”

With an indignant little croak, she whirled back around to face him. “And what about the shock and trauma you went through? I don’t see anyone treating you as though you’re made of glass.”

“Jagiya,” He began again, his tone losing the placating tone and turning into something softer and more genuine. “Only one of us is used to that kind of violence.”

“ That’s a convenient excuse.”

“It’s my job to make sure that you’re both safe. It’s my job to make sure that no one moves against us.”

Y/N rolled her eyes with a huff noting that the staff who had been in the kitchen had all made a discreet exit to leave the pair to quarrel in peace.

“Jagi.” He growled out in warning, less than pleased by her flippant attitude.

“I’m not made of glass, Namjoon.” she turned back to her dough choosing to take her frustrations out on it rather than him. “I don’t need you to treat me like I am. Yes, what happened what traumatizing, but I don’t need you to save me from the strain of making cinnamon rolls. It’s a little excessive.”

“I… I know. I’m sorry, jagi.” The apology was unexpected, and she paused. “I-I’ve come too close to losing you too many times this year. I know you’re not made of glass. Your strength is one of the things I was so drawn to.” She stared at him blankly, unamused by his arguments. “I- I’m a little on edge after the past year. Please, jagi.”

“Stop being so overbearing and then we’ll talk.” she sniffed, placing the dough back in the bowl and covering it so that it could sit to rise.

“Overbearing!” He spluttered.

“Overbearing.” She repeated with a small nod. “Why do you think Taehyung kicked you out?”

“This is slander.”

“This is you being annoying.” She shot back as she moved to the sink to wash off the dough and flour sticking to her hands.

“You wound me, my love.”

“Stop being so traumatizing then. Just think of all the therapy we all need!” She called over her shoulder as she made her way out of the kitchen. “It’s going to cost you a fortune. We might even bankrupt you.”

“It’s safe to go in now.” She told Oak Soon who was nervously lingering outside of her kitchen much to the other woman’s relief. “Thank you again for letting me borrow some space in the kitchen.”

“Of course, buin.” Oak Soon nodded, watching with narrowed eyes as Namjoon followed his wife out of the kitchen. “You’re always welcome.”

Y/N gave her another smile and continued on into the house with Namjoon remaining close on her heels.

She’d only made it a few feet away from the kitchen before Namjoon caught her by the wrist, pulling her back to him.

“I would happily let you bankrupt me.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Namjoon. You never know. I might actually do it.”

He smiled roguishly at her, happy that she was herself enough to be joking with him.

“Everything I have is yours, and you are welcome to use it as you wish.”

Y/N gave him a quick once over, clearly skeptical about the truth of those words, and wrinkled her nose when she found him to be completely serious in his declaration.

“If you plan to keep your criminal empire intact, you might not want to be quite so generous.”

“Only for you, jagi.”

She hummed, smiling slightly though the expression was tight and a little strained. “That is your mistake to make, Namjoon.”

“What will you do while you wait for your cinnamon rolls to rise?”

The question startled her a little. She hadn’t been expecting for Namjoon to continue the conversation. He never really took an interest in her baking on the odd occasion that she did it.

“I suppose I’ll go read for a while. Nara was napping last I checked.”

Namjoon hummed in understanding. “Shall we read together, jagiya?”

Y/N’s brows scrunched together in disgruntlement. “If you want to. It’s your house, and no one is stopping you.”

“I know that, jagi.” he laughed. “I just want to know that if I want to spend time with you that you won’t disappear on me.”

“And if I don’t wan to spend time with you?” She asked, crossing her arms under her chest.

“Then that’s your decision, jagi. I gave you the piano room as a sanctuary for a reason, but I would like- I hope that you’d like to spend time with me to.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Namjoon-”

“I’m not asking for the world, jagiya. I just want to spend some time with my wife.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, marveling at how long it had gotten since he’d brought her home. The ends of it now hung a bit above her shoulders, and Namjoon was very pleased to see it getting longer again. The short hair had been cute in its own way, but he much preferred it with some length to it. He liked the feel of it running through his fingers. He liked the ability to tug on it when he had her in the throes of passion.

Namjoon had to shake the thought out of his head. She hadn’t wanted to be intimate in some time, not since before Nara’s birth, and even then it had been only a handful of times since her return to Korea. She’d shown no interest in giving into such passion anytime soon either. Besides, the doctor hadn’t given them the green light for such activities yet either, and Namjoon would simply have to wait until they got the go ahead from the doctor to start seducing his wife in ernest.

“I don’t think that’s too much to ask.” He added softly.

Y/N cleared her throat awkwardly, taking a step back. “I have to grab my book from the piano room.”

Namjoon smiled softly, stepping forward to close the distance between them again, greatly enjoying the way that her breath caught in her throat. “I’ll meet you in our room, jagiya.”

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

Whoever is doing these edits you need to seriously staph😭

Caus you are singlehandedly causing enough destruction

🌚

[intplayboy]

OT7/MULTI BTS DRABBLE MASTERPOST

copyright © 2024 by kumiko

all rights reserved. these fics or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a review. 

key: a - angst | f - fluff | h - humor | ac - action | s - smut

ya'aburnee sneak peek (minor a, f, h, ac) - coming soon

hybrid! bts x human detective female! reader

the boys are patiently yet eagerly waiting for you at home, knowing you had another action-packed day, and can’t wait to smother you and make sure you safely return home. But come to find out that you are injured at the front door in the arms of your older colleague, and to make matters worse, how and why you were injured.

witch's refuge (a, f, h, ac) - coming soon

royal soldiers bts ot7 x female witch! reader

in an era where the royal family denounces all magic, as one of the few remaining witches, you hide your powers. though you try to lead a normal life, only the seven accepting men make you feel truly understood. yet, what destiny awaits when you must reveal your true identity? character boards | prologue | part 1 | part 2 [finale] | alternate ending

[pennyellee]

𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐒 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

title: ANUBIS pairings: yandere mafia namjoon x barmaid f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 19,7K release date: december - january

beta read by one and only @chaoticpuff17

prompt 1: “You are something I can sin for” prompt 2: An anchor amidst the stormy seas of life — that’s what Namjoon is for you. But it wasn’t always like that. There was a time where you’ve resented Namjoon with every fibre of your being and every word that came out of his plump lips after what he had done to prove his power. Unfortunately, you will never know what life could be if Kim Namjoon was not in it.

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, reader meets namjoon at 17, forced engagement, kidnapping, graphic violence, death, murder, blood, explicit language, misogyny, mentions of feminism, alcohol usage, mentions of religion and God, church smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, oppa-kink and so on (i'll add some if i'll forget)

author's note: so here we are! this is the story i've been thrilled to push out as it is happening in the universe and almost simultaneously with CHAMPAGNE CONFETTI. Y/N alias Peaches here, is my baby, and I cannot wait to write more for her and Namjoon after champagne confetti side B goes out. I have drafts for another fics that are happening in the same universe as champagne confetti and now anubis but step by step my faries ♥ I hope you will enjoy reading this piece I was keeping for myself for a looong time. The best thing about writing is that I get to build this world of imagination and live in it for months before it gets to you. Sooo I'm very nervous and excited to push Anubis out as a second fic within champagne confetti universe - which i still didn't name coz all the fics just have different titles so let's just call it like that for now. Without further ado, enjoy fairies! ♥ let's go back to 1996. omfg, let's call it thatttt, back to 1996!

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone. main masterlist 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

1996

"Did you sleep well?" Namjoon asked, his voice softer now, as if he was trying to breach the walls that had begun to rise between you.

You nursed your coffee in the black ceramic mug while you shrugged, keeping the answer with spice in it for yourself just yet. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, you could see the cracks in his façade when you didn't answer.

"I see... silent treatment," he gulped down, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. Pouring himself a cup of coffee too, he leaned on the counter right in front of you. You took his appearance in. He got a buzz cut, creamy satin shirt tucked in leather pants. A few of the buttons were undone, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest.

"Is that really how you want to start the day?" he provoked. You set the mug down, the clink of ceramic against marble echoing in the tension-filled kitchen.

"Did you ask yourself the same question when you threatened me?" you shot back, your voice rising slightly as the memories flooded back. The anger surged within you, igniting a fire that had been smoldering since the moment you woke up in his penthouse.

Namjoon's expression shifted, the warmth in his eyes replaced by a flicker of defensiveness.

"Well, you for some reason seemed too adamant that you needed to patrol the streets of Bronx by running away from me. I know you too damn well, Peaches; I know where you were headed."

The words stung, each syllable laced with accusation and an unsettling truth. Your heart raced, the anger bubbling just below the surface.

"You know fucking shit, Namjoon—"

"Oppa," he jumped in, his voice firm, yet tinged with a note of caution.

You inhaled sharply, the familiar term slicing through the tension like a knife. It reminded you of the intimate moments you once shared. "You've lost that honorific the moment you decided to threaten me and kill that man right in front of my eyes!"

Namjoon's jaw clenched, and you could see the conflict brewing beneath his composed exterior.

"You don't understand the kind of world I'm in. We protect ours."

"Protect?" you spat, feeling the heat of betrayal wash over you.

"I'm a person who deserves to make her own choices—" He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing.

"What choices are you making? Running off into the night like it's some kind of adventure? You think that's brave? I refuse to let you get hurt because you're unhappy with my decisions."

"Oh yeah, like something would happen to me—"

"You are my woman, and people know that you are, Peaches!" he declared, his voice rising with intensity, as if the weight of his words was meant to command respect from the universe itself.

Your heart raced at his proclamation, a mix of anger and something softer twisting in your gut.

"The fuck you're talking about, Namjoon?" You snapped, your voice echoing off the sleek kitchen walls. Anger surged within you, fueled by the sheer audacity of his claim.

"Not fucking once did you say that we ought to be official one day—" you shot back, your voice dripping with disbelief.

"You act like I'm some sort of possession, something you can just claim without any conversation or commitment!" Namjoon's expression hardened, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes.

"You need to stop pretending like we don't have a future because you're scared of the past," he said, smashing the mug down on the counter. Namjoon's jaw tightened, and the conflict in his eyes was palpable.

"Since I was seventeen, not fucking once have you made your intentions strictly clear, Namjoon! The fuck am I doing here then?!" The words burst from your lips, raw and unfiltered, echoing in the tense space between you.

He ran a hand over his face, visibly struggling to keep his composure.

"I thought you knew. I thought you felt it too," he replied, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I thought it was understood that it was a matter of time."

"Understood?" you scoffed, incredulity seeping into your tone. "You think that just because you've made me a part of your life, I should automatically know my place? That's not how it works!"

"I was waiting till you turned twenty-one—"

"Age of consent is eighteen in this state, Namjoon, keep that bullshit to yourself." Namjoon's expression darkened at your words, and you could see the frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"So you would rather have me taking you as wife and putting a baby into you the moment you turned eighteen, am I right?"

.

.

.

.

.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: if you want to be notified once the full story will be up for reading, you can write in the comments and i'll create a taglist!

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, p.

[wildestdreamsblog]

How he met you: Attorney Kim Namjoon and his little love

Pairing: Attorney Kim Namjoon x Secretary! Reader

Summary: How did you meet him?

A/N: Everybody say (belated) happy birthday to RM! He's the reason why I fell down the BTS rabbit hole tbh hehe. I remembered seeing reels of English interviews and he was answering and I was like hmmm. Who is this cutie patootie? And why is he sometimes giving me secondhand embarrassment and proceeded on asking myself why I found his answers endearing XD Years later, I'm still here ehehe 

Masterlist, Kofi full Preview:

“Do I know you, Ms…?” Namjoon finally asked, looking at you like you were a puzzle he needed to solve because that was who he was– someone who just needed to know everything.

It was the same trait that had earned him a spoon thrown at his head by Yoongi, his hyung, just last week. Namjoon had asked too many questions during lunch, dissecting some tiny detail that had driven Yoongi to the edge. “Some things don’t need to be analyzed, Joon,” Yoongi had muttered before chucking the spoon at him, more annoyed than angry.

“You probably don’t,” you answered casually as you pointed your chopstick at him. “But you most certainly should.”

Namjoon blinked, taken aback by your bluntness. His curiosity, already piqued, deepened. “Because?” he asked, his tone cautious but intrigued.

“Honey, you’re not going to survive this law firm without me. You need me. I mean. Look at you,” you leaned in, your eyes roaming over his features. “Those glasses are so out of fashion. We are in the 21st century. Contact lenses are now a thing.”

Namjoon’s hand instinctively went to his glasses, pushing them up his nose, a faint flush creeping up his neck. He opened his mouth to protest, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“And look at your tie. You are wearing a blue suit and your tie is green. Green.”

You took a deep breath as though pointing at his fashion choices were enough to stress you out.

“I think I am competent enough to survive without you, Ms.-" Namjoon began, trying to regain some composure, his voice firm but polite.

“Ms. Y/N,” you supplied, your lips twisted into an amused smile.

“-Ms. Y/N, I don’t need fashion advice or… whatever this is. I am more than capable of surviving and excelling in this firm. You may not know me, but I graduated at the top of my class.”

“I know,” you said, leaning back with a look of satisfaction. “Kim Namjoon. Age 28. Height is 181 centimeters. You graduated from Seoul National University early due to your stellar grades. You’re a nationally recognized youth with tons of awards. Top 1 in the bar exam. Not only are you smart, but you are also apparently rich, as claimed by the 2019 issue of Seoul Bachelor’s magazine. Did I miss anything?”

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - They Want to Spoil You

Warnings: /

A/N: They realize you're not well-off or are even struggling financially and that makes them want to take care of you even more. Per popular request <3.

MASTERLIST

Jin

Jin was already lying in bed when you got out of the bathroom. You grabbed your pyjamas from your bag as he watched you change.

"Oh no ..." you mumbled when you saw that the seams in your side tore and left a gap in your top. "Can I borrow a t-shirt?" you asked as you turned to your boyfriend but you already knew the answer. You were beginning to suspect too that Jin even preferred it if you wore his clothes.

"Do you need new pyjamas?"

"No, I'll just sew this up and they'll be like new again," you told as you grabbed Jin's t-shirt from one of the dressers.

"Just get a new pair," said Jin as he sat leaning against his pillow.

"I can already barely get through the month, I can't just buy new clothes whenever there's a tear in them," you laughed as you pulled on Jin's white t-shirt. You climbed into the bed but your smile faded when you saw Jin frowning.

"Are you okay?" you asked gently and scooted closer to him.

"You barely get through the month?" asked Jin seriously. Your mouth parted and your face went blank. Your cheeks turned pink as you thought about how much less you earned compared to Jin. You had made your peace with it already when you two began dating but the difference between your incomes and savings never crossed Jin's mind.

"It's not that bad," you smiled and tried to reassure your boyfriend. "I have a beginner's salary, it's normal."

"It's not normal if you're struggling," said Jin sternly as he sat up straight and his hand cupped your cheek. "Let me take care of you." He frowned even worse.

"You don't have to take care of me, Jin, I'm fine, really," you insisted although the past few months have been really tight for you financially. Your rent took most of the money whilst you were staying at Jin's place the majority of the nights. Then there was the food and the bills, the everyday things and the public transport. Your phone was so battered that the screen had began to flicker a couple of weeks ago.

A look so determined filled Jin's eyes that it began to worry you a little.

"Please don't think about it anymore, Jinnie," you begged as you took his cheeks and kissed him. He struggled to respond at first, his mind in a storm, but he couldn't resist your soft lips.

The next day when you woke up, you reached for the nightstand blindly to check the time on your phone but you couldn't find it. You rose your head and frowned when your phone was nowhere to be seen.

"Have you seen my phone?" you mumbled sleepily when you came into the living area, finding Jin already dressed in another one of his perfect outfits. It must have been late in the morning judging by the daylight if not close to noon. Jin liked to sleep in as well but not that day. He had been up since early morning.

"Here you go, princess," said Jin as he handed you a phone.

"This isn't my phone?" you asked confused and tried to give it back to Jin. It seemed brand new so you figured he changed his.

"It's your phone," insisted Jin, his eyes still filled with the same unbending look as the night before. You frowned and tapped the screen. The background was the same as on your phone, the contacts and the apps, everything was the same but the machine itself.

You looked up and finally noticed the dozens of bags lying around on the sofa and the coffee table.

"What's all this?" you breathed, your frown only deepening.

"You bought this for yourself, princess," said Jin as he took your free hand and placed a black card in your palm.

"N-No, I didn't," you backed away but tried to give the card back to Jin at the same time. He didn't even look at your hand.

"Jin, please," you begged when you realized what he was doing. "I don't need any of this—"

"Y/N," warned Jin when he turned to you. "Not another word." His hands caressed your neck gently before they moved up to your jaw and made you look up at him. He leaned in slowly and kissed you, silencing any protests that might want to come out of your mouth.

"I'll know if you won't use the card, Y/N," he cautioned against your lips, sending shivers down your spine, but you only wanted another kiss. Jin backed away when you searched for his plush lips again. You opened your eyes, seeing the stern look on Jin's handsome face.

"Just let me take care of you, princess," he spoke quietly, his chest vibrating with the deepness of his voice. You nodded weakly, folding at the prospect of Jin's affection. True to your presumptions, he rewarded you with another tender kiss.

Namjoon

You found your boyfriend sitting on the sofa, checking something on his laptop when you took a seat beside him.

"Are you busy?" you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

"No, it's just some stupid emails," said Namjoon absently, his eyes scanning through the unnecessarily long blocks of text. "What is it, baby?"

"I was just ... I was wondering if ..." You cleared your throat as you squeezed your hands nervously. "If you could maybe lend me some money," you asked with difficulty. Your cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment when Namjoon tore his gaze from his laptop and looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing into a heavy frown.

"I'd pay you back everything," you said quickly. "It's just for rent—"

"What do you mean you'd pay me back?" asked Namjoon sternly, a tempest of thoughts behind his dark irises.

"I'll get my paycheck next week and I'll pay you back every cent, I promise," you explained although the demanding look on his features gave you little hope. His pensive eyes studied your face wordlessly. "It's okay if you don't want to, I'll ask my mom—"

"For rent?" Namjoon cut you off. His frown only grew deeper as he struggled to understand what you were asking.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have asked; I know it's weird," you said quickly and took Namjoon's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You tried to get up but he caught your wrist and pulled you back down.

"How much do you make?" demanded Namjoon. His voice was gentle but no less inquisitive. Your face went blank as more heat rose to your face. You didn't even make a hundredth of what Namjoon was bringing in in your first job as a beginner with no position.

"You know I don't make as much as you do," you swallowed. Even though your answer gave little information, Namjoon realized for the first time since you began dating that you might be financially unstable. He knew what you did and you liked your job but since money was never an issue for him, he never considered it might be an issue for you.

"I'll take care of it," nodded Namjoon and smoothed his thumb gently across your cheek before he got up.

"Take care of what?" you asked wide-eyed as you stared up at him. "Namjoon, I just need—"

"I'll take care of it," repeated Namjoon and gave your forehead a kiss as he buttoned his suit jacket. He grabbed his phone and his wallet and made for the door.

"Namjoon," you called again but he was adamant and gone.

A few hours later, you were looking through the fridge to think of some ideas for dinner when Namjoon came back. He set down a brown folder on the kitchen isle with a credit card on top of it before he pulled off his jacket and came to you for a kiss. You closed the fridge blindly as you responded to his lips but your mind was on the folder.

"What's this?" you asked as you removed the card from the brown paper and opened the file. It was a title deed with your name on it as part of a property transfer. The apartment in question was your rental paid in full and written in your name. Your eyebrows gathered into a frown as your mouth parted and your stomach gave a nervous squeeze.

"I told you I'd take care of it," said Namjoon easily and grabbed some orange juice from the fridge. You stared at him, your frown as deep as ever.

"You bought my apartment?" you asked astounded.

"No, you bought your apartment," said Namjoon as he drank the cold juice from a crystal glass. His fingers sat down on top of the dark credit card and he pushed it towards you. The letters of your name were engraved on the luxurious-painted plastic.

"Are you insane?" you blurted, your chest riddled with guilt. You were used to working hard for everything you had and hated accepting things from others. Even birthday gifts if too extravagant made you uncomfortable.

"I can't accept this, I won't accept this, Namjoon," you insisted although you could see it on his face that you were shouting in deaf ears. Your boyfriend was one of the most intransigent people in the world and when he decided on something there was no changing his mind.

"It's yours," said Namjoon nonchalantly, "Whether you like it or not."

Your eyes flinched in the direction of the crackling fireplace as you held the folder in your hands. Namjoon followed your gaze and smiled with amusement.

"I have a digital copy, baby," said Namjoon as he came closer to you. "The apartment is yours and so is the card." His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you to him, his forehead almost leaning against yours whilst you stared up at him.

"I'll know if you won't spend anything," he purred a warning and came even closer. "And I won't like it if you don't spend anything." His deep voice gave you goosebumps as your eyes flicked down to his plush lips.

"I want to spoil you, baby," said Namjoon against your soft mouth. "You should let me." He closed the space between your lips and kissed you deeply enough for the folder to fall from your hands as he pulled your waist to his hips.

Yoongi

"Fuck ..." you mumbled under your breath as you scrolled through the bills on your email, your back against the foot of the sofa and your laptop on the coffee table. Your stomach was in a tight knot. You tried to calculate the priorities but even that surpassed the amount that was left on your bank account from your last paycheck.

"What is it?" asked Yoongi as he sat on the sofa behind you, his legs on each side of your frame when he kissed the top of your head.

"Nothing," you whispered and closed your laptop quickly. You looked up and gratefully responded to Yoongi kissing your lips. His hand was caressing your neck gently, the cold rings on his long fingers giving you goosebumps as they made contact with your warm skin.

"You sure?" asked Yoongi when he pulled away a little. You set your eyes forward again and bit your lip as you nodded. Yoongi's hand glided around your neck and pushed back your soft hair as he began to run his fingers through it. You leaned your head against the sofa and closed your eyes.

"Tell me what's wrong," said Yoongi. His voice was deep and quiet but no less authoritative.

"Nothing's wrong," you insisted as you shook your head a little. Yoongi frowned more and more with each second. You didn't even have to open your eyes to see his expression. You knew that he knew that you were hiding something.

"You don't trust me anymore, jagi?" asked Yoongi. His hand came down to your cheek and caressed you gently. Your eyes opened at those words and you turned around to look at him.

"Of course I trust you," you spoke feverishly.

"Why won't you talk to me then?" said Yoongi as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Because it's nothing," you lied. "And you'll worry and think that you have to fix it."

"Fix what?" pressed Yoongi. You groaned desperately and buried your face into the sofa. Yoongi seized the opportunity and opened your laptop behind your back, his eyes scanning over the bills.

"No, wait—" you tried to close the laptop when you noticed what he was doing but it was already too late. He saw everything.

"Yoongi, don't do anything," you begged as you got up to your knees and cupped his face. The look in his eyes was as hard and unmoving as a mountain and your words fell on deaf ears. He pulled the wallet from his back pocket and slid out a slick black credit card.

"Here you go, kitten, happy anniversary," said Yoongi as he offered you the card. You stood up with a frown.

"Our anniversary won't be for three months," you protested although that was far from Yoongi's point or yours for that matter. He stood up as well, took your hand and wrapped your fingers around his card.

"You can give me that card all you want but I won't spend a dime," you insisted. Yoongi turned to you slowly and took a good look at you. His eyes made your stomach dance with butterflies and fireworks.

"Fine," said Yoongi as he came closer to you. "Then I'll make you." His voice send shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He took your hand and you had no choice but to follow him. He drove you half-way across town until you arrived to a large glass building.

"Why are we here?" you questioned when Yoongi opened the car door for you. "Please, let's just go home." You took your boyfriend's hand but he wasn't paying your tugs no mind.

"Yoongi," you gasped under your breath and squeezed his hand tightly when he led you inside the Cartier boutique. It was too late to leave without causing a scene in front of the elegant saleswomen.

"Mr Min," said the older one of the two with her hair in a neat bun. "We're so happy to see you're back. It's been too long," smiled the other lady and took in the sight of you, giving you a warm smile as well.

"We have a very special thing for you," said the older lady and disappeared in the back.

"Yoongi," you pleaded in a whisper as you tugged on his hand a little but his fingers were tightly intertwined with yours. Yoongi looked down into your eyes, defeating you in an instance.

"This is one of our rarest and most sought after items, Mr Min," purred the older saleslady. She placed a beautiful red box on the glass counter before you and opened it with care. "This is out Panthere Maillon Etrier necklace in 18 carat white gold. It's distinguished for its geometric shape with the center of the necklace set with brilliant cut diamonds around 2,15 carats."

Your lips parted as your face went blank in the face of the exquisite piece of jewellery. You had never even stood in a jewellery shop, much less in Cartier itself. Yoongi observed your reaction for a while before he nodded to the saleslady.

"Very good," she smiled and motioned to her assistant to take care of the payment.

You realized that the purchase was agreed to and looked up at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

"Please," said the younger saleslady when she gestured elegantly at the payment terminal. Your gaze shifted between her, the astronomical number on the screen and Yoongi.

"Your card, kitten," said Yoongi as he stared down at you. You were still clutching to the black piece of plastic in your clammy hand. You swallowed before you inched the card closer to the terminal until it made a sound of approval.

"See? It's not that hard," purred Yoongi in your ear as his arm wrapped around your waist. You turned to him, your lips only inches apart. "You can use it for other things now too, kitten, and I'll know if you won't," he spoke quietly, his hot breath teasing your mouth as he slowly closed the space between you and kissed you greedily.

Hoseok

Although you have been dating Hoseok for a while now, you were never very comfortable talking about money with him. You grew up poor and even though you were just starting your first job now, you still struggled quite a lot. You didn't mind that Hoseok made a lot of money, you accepted that right in the beginning of your relationship, but you never wanted to talk about your situation because of that. Yet when you had a glass of wine too much with your dinner last week, you told Hoseok about your upbringing and how the notion of always having to save money was still rooted deep inside of you.

You shouldn't have said anything, though, because once Hoseok found out about it, he began to shower you with gifts every single day. You didn't mind him paying for meals when you went out but the gifts he was giving you now weren't anything short of luxurious.

"Hobi, I swear if you get me another thing—" you threatened when you saw the timeless Hermès Kelly on your nightstand. Your stomach twisted into knots just at the idea of how much it must have cost.

When you turned around with your index pointed at Hoseok, he was standing so close to you that the wind was knocked out of you. Your lips parted as Hobi towered over you.

"Or what?" he asked with an amused smile resting on his lips and in his dark eyes. You were at a loss for words. "Or what, kitten?" he asked again, taking another half a step closer to you and closed the space between your bodies.

"You should look what's inside, baby," Hoseok encouraged, enjoying every moment of seeing the puzzled and flushed look on your face.

You looked inside the leather bag hesitantly and found a creamy white jewellery box inside. It was already clutched in your fingers before you let it go and took a step back, your hands hugging your elbows as the corners of your eyebrows pulled downwards.

"I don't want it, you spoke weakly as Hoseok frowned at your reaction.

"You haven't even looked at it," said Hoseok but you shook your head and backed away some more.

"I don't want it - I didn't earn it and I sure as hell don't deserve it," you tried to leave the bedroom but Hoseok caught your wrist.

"Y/N," he called as he cupped your neck just beneath your jaw and made you look up at him but you were avoiding his eyes. "Y/N," Hoseok warned again and you looked at him. His frown softened when he saw the sad look on your face.

"That's the least of what you deserve, baby." He brushed his thumbs along the gentle line of your jaw. "Stop fighting me and let me take care of you." Hoseok leaned his forehead against yours, his closeness calming down your anxiety immediately. Your arms found their way around his sides as you came closer, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"It's okay, baby, you'll get used to it," Hoseok spoke gently against your hair before he kissed the top of your head, his hands caressing your back.

"Wear it to the opera tonight, baby," he said after a while. "Will you wear it for me, kitten?" Hoseok cupped your cheeks again and made you look up at him. You nodded a little. He smiled and leaned in, his thumbs caressing your soft skin as he kissed you tenderly.

When you finally found the courage to come near the bag and the jewellery box again, you were already wearing your evening dress. You opened the delicate velvet box and found a pearl necklace in 18 carat yellow gold. The letters Mikimoto were engraved in the satin interior of the box.

"Do you like it?" smiled Hoseok as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before he pressed a soft kiss on your bare shoulder.

You nodded weakly as you studied the necklace without a breath in your lungs. "It's beautiful."

Hoseok took the necklace from the box as you scooped up your hair and the cold pearls made contact with your warm skin. Hoseok fastened the clip in the back and took your soft hair from your hands, his fingers letting them fall down your back.

"You're so beautiful, baby," purred Hoseok when his hands returned to your waist and pulled you to him as his lips left tender kisses along your shoulder.

Jimin

When you got back from work, you were surprised to find Jimin already at home. It was barely the afternoon and he sometimes stayed at the office until evening.

"Hey," you greeted softly as you cuddled up next to him on the sofa. You wrapped your arms around his sides and leaned against his chest but he didn't budge. Jimin was pretending to watch the TV and refused to even say hello.

You sat up perplexed as you studied your boyfriend's sullen frown.

"What's wrong?" you breathed, your chest heavy with guilt although you had no idea what you did wrong. You took your boyfriend's hand and squeezed it pleadingly but Jimin gave no reaction.

"Jimin-ah," you tried again, your voice almost cracking. You couldn't stand having him be upset with you, especially when you had no idea what could have made him react this way. Jimin was never upset with you no matter what, which is why his reaction affected you so much.

The desperation in your voice made Jimin break his harsh facade. He turned to you frowning no less.

"Why do you think I gave you that card?" said Jimin bitterly but you were lost. He leaned forward and grabbed the bank statement from the coffee table and showed it to you.

"You promised me that you would spend money on that card, Y/N," said Jimin when you read through the humble list of meals you had paid with Jimin's card, the 30 dollars that you had spent on buying some cute office supplies and the 20 dollars you had left at the bookstore.

"But I did," you insisted, showing Jimin the bank statement that he knew by heart now. He rolled his eyes and glared at you again. You had never seen him behave like this before. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed at you. A part of you knew that he wanted you to spend more money but there was nothing you really needed that much. After Jimin found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he pulled the card right from his wallet and gave it to you.

"You promised me, Y/N," said Jimin and got up. Your wide eyes followed him and your lips were parted in shock. He grabbed his car keys and waited for you to get up as well.

"What are you doing?" you asked your boyfriend.

"I'm making you keep your promises to me, sweetheart," said Jimin darkly as he took your hand and led you down to his car.

Jimin drove you to the enormous glass building where he liked to shop. You had been there with him a hundred times before but the prices made your stomach twist into knots.

"Jimin, this isn't necessary—" you tried to reason with him but he only grabbed your hand and led you straight to Tiffany & Co.

"Jimin, please," you begged him as your chest grew heavy with guilt. The salespeople knew him. He already got you a pair of their earrings before but you had only worn them once to your anniversary dinner for fear of losing them.

Jimin picked out a 20 carat diamond necklace for you since he knew you'd refuse to choose any of the items the salespeople displayed especially for him.

Your boyfriend gave you his card and stared at you. He was still angry with you and the sight of it made your heart break.

"Jimin," you pleaded but he didn't budge. The lady at the cash registry waited patiently when the five digit number appeared on the payment terminal in front of you.

"Y/N," Jimin warned when he saw you hesitate. You swallowed and gave in. You pressed Jimin's card against the terminal and felt even worse when it gave a sound of approval.

Jimin took you to Dior next, then Celine, Balenciaga and even Chanel where his card caused more rings of approval from the payment terminal. Your boyfriend's frown, however, began to melt away when he saw you try on couture and get tended to from every direction by the salespeople.

Jimin leaned against the door frame of your dressing room as he watched you put on a beautiful white dress with a black ribbon that screamed Chanel. He glanced over his shoulder before he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Jimin leaned his chin against your shoulder as he watched you in the mirror.

"See? It's not that hard, baby," he purred before he pressed a soft kiss on your exposed neck and you couldn't help but lean back against him.

Taehyung

"What's this?" asked your boyfriend as he opened his bank statement. You looked up with big wide eyes and your heart sank a little. After Taehyung found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he gave you his card and practically threatened you to spend money on it when you refused.

"I-I just ... " you began to stutter. You had bought yourself a new bag for your laptop and for the things you needed whenever you went to study or to work and a perfume that you knew Taehyung loved. Those were the kind of treats you could only afford once in a while on your own but since he encouraged you, you got them for yourself although it made you feel no less guilty.

"You said ... You said I should get a few things," you spoke carefully as you watched Taehyung's frown whilst he scanned the contents of his bank statement before his dark eyes turned to you.

"Why didn't you?" he asked sternly, showing you the slip. Your eyes turned into a different kind of wide when he spoke the opposite of what you imagined. You took the bank statement and saw your two items on there along with a few meals that you paid for with Taehyung's card.

"What do you mean? I got the bag," you gestured towards the beautiful accessory that was sitting at the foot of the sofa. "And I got the perfume - it's Gucci." Even saying the brand name weighed heavy on your tongue with guilt. You had never owned a luxurious brand item in your life before you met Taehyung.

"Yeah, and you got tteokbokki, bubble tea, two coffees and spent 12 dollars at a pizza place," Taehyung listed the rest of the items of places where the card was used.

"Do you want me to pay you back?" you asked unsure but that made Taehyung frown even deeper.

"Come on," he instructed as he took your hand and led you to his car. You watched him as he drove you to the city center and pulled up in front of Cartier.

"Tae—" you protested but he cut you off by getting out of the car. "Tae," you tried again when he grabbed your hand and took you inside the luxurious boutique.

"Mr Kim," the elegant saleswoman greeted the moment she saw your boyfriend and you enter their exclusive shop. "We're so glad to see you return, it's been a while." She smiled a bright smile when she saw you before she brought out a collection of their most exquisite items, timeless pieces inspired by art deco.

You tried to get your boyfriend's attention and get out of there but he would not so much as budge. He chose a sapphire and diamond bracelet for you. When the lady presented a six digit on the computer screen, your face grew hot with fever.

"Tae, don't—" you tried but Taehyung glared at you so intensely that you were at a loss for words. He showed you his card - your card - and pressed it against the payment terminal. Your mouth parted when the machine gave a happy sound of approval and the saleslady thanked the both of you. She tried to hand you the velvet box within a beautiful paper bag but Taehyung accepted it instead.

"You're getting this when you pay for dinner tonight, kitten," said Taehyung to you and only you, his dark voice sending shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He handed you back his credit card and left a small kiss on your jaw right above your neck, his lips hiding a shadow of a smirk.

Jungkook

"Please don't make me do this," you begged when Jungkook took you to Calvin Klein and made you try on a series of luxurious fragrances. The prices of the items they sold made your cheeks flush red with discomfort. Ever since Jungkook found out that you weren't financially stable, he insisted you spend money on his elite black card. If you failed to meet his expectations, he made you go shopping and this was just one of those instances.

Jungkook's nose brushed against your neck where one of the wonderful perfumes mingled with your skin.

"You smell so good, kitten," murmured Jungkook, his dark voice giving you goosebumps. He pulled away, his face only inched from yours as he watched you with amusement. Your boyfriend leaned in slowly, a few locks of his dark hair brushing against your forehead. You put your arms around his neck and guided him to you but he pulled away at the last moment, leaving you wide-eyed and perplexed.

"Only after you use the card, kitten," said Jungkook and placed the black credit card into your hand.

"But ..." Your gaze flicked between your boyfriend and your palm. "Jungkook," you whined in protest.

"You should have done this on your own, Y/N," said Jungkook smoothly as he stepped closer to you and you backed away until your back hit the perfume counter. His long arms leaned against the wooden surface and trapped you there. A sharp breath caught in the back of your throat as you stared at you boyfriend but your gaze kept drifting to his lips.

"We could have been somewhere else right now," spoke Jungkook quietly as his eyes gained a dark, glossy look that made your knees go weak.

"O-Okay," you found yourself stuttering.

After you paid for the perfumes you liked, you were eager to leave the luxurious shopping center.

"Not so fast, kitten," said Jungkook as he caught your hand and pulled you inside the Bvlgari boutique.

"Jungkook—" you spoke breathlessly but the salesman already nodded to Jungkook and went to retrieve something from the back.

"Jungkook, please, let's just go," you tried to reason with your boyfriend, but this time, instead of tempting you with his kisses, Jungkook frowned at you. His eyebrows arched sharply as he caressed your cheek.

"Stop fighting me, kitten," he spoke quietly but his chest was vibrating with the deepness of his husky voice. "We made a deal."

Jungkook had made you promise that you would use the card and not just for the things you needed like meals and everyday items.

"Here it is, Mr Jeon," smiled the elegant salesman. He presented a beautiful velvet box on the counter and opened it carefully. A Serpenti Viper Necklace was sitting on the cushion made in its shape. The metal used was white 18 carat gold with so many diamonds it would take you a month to count them.

Your lips parted in awe as you looked up at Jungkook. His frown vanished behind a small smile when his eyes found yours, a playful look in his dark irises.

"Would you like to try it on, Miss?" asked the courteous salesman. You checked with Jungkook and he nodded to the employee. He didn't let the salesman put it on you, though, that was his job. You turned to the mirror whilst the salesman went to assist the person in the back and Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist. His gaze traced the viper's tail that led down the middle of your chest.

"Do you like it?" asked Jungkook, his hot breath teasing your ear as his eyes found yours in the mirror.

"It's exquisite," you breathed, feeling the weight of the diamonds and gold against your skin. Your hand took one of Jungkook's and intertwined your fingers with his,

"Just like you, kitten," he spoke softly and left a tender kiss on your neck.

[starboyyoongi]

reckless. min yoongi au

⭑ summary: a dinner date with friends takes a turn for the worst when yoongi finds out something that he wasn’t supposed to know about.

⭑ pairings: min yoongi x black!female reader

⭑ warnings/tags: mentions of blood and murder, cursing but not too much, mafia!namjoon, mafia!jimin, reader is the head of the mafia, reader doesn’t make an appearance

⭑ notes: this is a super condensed drabble-like version of a fic idea that i have that isn’t completely fleshed out nor is it written yet. i thought about keeping the fic to myself until i actually wrote it, but decided that i wanna share it in small drabble-like increments like this instead (: (kind of like my own little way of getting my creative juices flowing i guess). feel free to leave your thoughts and i hope that you guys enjoy! x

THIS IS SO fucking boring, yoongi thought to himself as he dropped his gaze to his paper once more.

he couldn’t tell you what page they were on nor could he tell you what they were even talking about. all yoongi knew was that he was going to have a lot of catching up to do once the meeting was over and he was not looking forward to it at all. his mind starts to drift once more and he wonders how you did it. how were you able to pay attention in these meetings? how were you able to stay awake without banging your head against the table every five seconds? how were you able to do this back to back for sometimes a week straight?

yoongi will admit that he underestimated this part of the job. when things were initially thrusted onto him months ago, he found himself worrying about everything under the sun; how to talk to the other executives, how to manage the company’s payroll - shit, he was even worried about the plants in the lobby. it was silly, yes, but yoongi was truly clueless about his new position.

he still remembers the relief he felt when he was told that he’d be having someone guide him along for the first few weeks. it was one of the many things that you had set up before your sudden departure and yoongi couldn’t have been more thankful.

but the meetings.

god, the fucking meetings.

that was something that he wasn’t prepared for at all.

yoongi had no problem talking.

despite how nerve wracking it could be at times, yoongi was a natural at talking in meetings. so much so that he’s lead a couple of them himself and had everyone in the room singing him praises for days afterwards. talking was the last thing that min yoongi ever had to worry about in a meeting.

no, what was really his problem - his achilles heel, if you will - was having to hear others talk for long periods of time. he hated it. no, he despised it. yoongi despised how much time he had to waste listening to a room full of men drone on and on about things that they clearly didn’t care about let alone took time to read up on - another thing that he had come to hate about the meetings, too. seeing the look of shock on the other executives and assistants faces whenever he spoke was enough for yoongi to know that he was the only one in the room who actually knew what he was talking about.

he softly scoffed and shook his head.

what a bunch of morons, he thought.

yoongi’s mind was about to wander off again, but his thoughts came to a sudden halt when the lights flickered back on and the projector began to get shut down. breathing out a sigh of relief, he pushed his chair back and glanced around the room. the meeting was finally over.

yoongi stood up and began to gather his things which wasn’t much to begin with. a few of the associates started to come up to him and greet him before striking up meaningless conversation. he answered back with a small smile on his face and feigned interest in his voice; this was nothing but routine as usual for him. after another five minutes of fake smiles and promises of catching up over some lunch and golf, yoongi was finally able to leave.

as soon as he stepped inside of his office, yoongi threw his things down on the nearby coffee table and took a seat on the couch. just as he was about to shift into a comfortable position to lay down in, there was a knock at his door. he contemplated over whether or not he should answer.

maybe if i stay quiet they’ll go away, the tired man thought to himself.

“mr min? are you in there?” a familiar voice called out, words slightly muffled by the door.

yoongi sighed.

“yes, jongho, come in,” he replied.

jongho, his assistant, poked his head through the crack in the door and smiled before walking in. yoongi took note of the papers in the younger man’s hands and silently prayed that they weren’t for him. he couldn’t handle any more paperwork for the day.

“you look like shit.” jongho said as he took a seat across from yoongi who was now sporting an irritated look on his face.

“wow, jongho, thank you so much for noticing. anything else you wanna point out?” yoongi asked in a sarcastic tone.

jongho giggled and shook his head before saying, “i’m just messing with you, sir. seriously, though, you look pretty tired. is everything okay?”

yoongi nodded and replied, “i’m fine. that meeting just sucked the life out of me is all.”

“figures. i saw lee on my way here and had a feeling that the meeting was shit as usual.”

“that bastard never knows what he’s talking about yet still shows up and wastes everyone’s time. why do we keep doing business with him anyways?”

“he’s an investor, mr min. but if it makes you feel better, y/n didn’t like him either. she always hoped that he’d have an accident and wouldn’t show up.”

“of course she did,” yoongi muttered with a small smile upon hearing your name. “anyways, what’s up? are those papers for me?”

“no, no, these are for me. i just came in here to remind you that you have dinner with kim and park tonight” jongho said.

“thank you, i almost forgot about it. the dinner’s at eight, right?” yoongi asked as he rose to a standing position.

jongho followed suit as he answered, “yes. do you need me to get anything for you to bring later?”

“no, that’s okay,” yoongi said with a wave of his hand. “we’re eating at jimin’s anyways and i usually don’t bring anything, so.”

jongho nodded in response. “alright then, sounds good. i have to go and fax these documents, but is there anything else that you need from me?” he asked.

yoongi shook his head and waved his hand once more, signaling to jongho that he was free to go. once the door was closed shut, he settled into his chair and logged back into his computer. as he waited for the screen to load, he glanced at the time, but quickly wished that he hadn’t.

12:45 PM.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…” yoongi muttered.

⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑

maybe it was the long day that he had or maybe it was the glass of whiskey that he had before he came, but yoongi was almost positive that there was something wrong with his eyesight. he blinked once, twice, three times before he glanced at namjoon then at jimin then back at namjoon once more. the older of the two casually sipped away at his champagne while the younger wiped his red stained hand with a napkin.

sucking in a breath, yoongi asked, “are you two going to tell me what the fuck is going on or am i supposed to pretend that i don’t see all of… this in front me?”

silence.

“hello? i know that you two heard me. answer my question” yoongi said, annoyance clear in his voice.

silence.

yoongi’s grip on his wine glass tightened.

“answer me right now or i swear to fucking god—” yoongi started saying, but he was cut off by namjoon who finally decided to speak.

“i’m not the one who’s covered in blood here. if anything, jimin should be the one to explain himself.” namjoon spoke.

jimin scoffed and quickly replied, “you may not be covered in blood, but the both of us are responsible for spilling it.”

yoongi’s eyes widened at jimin’s words.

“excuse me? what is he talking about? what are you talking about, jimin?” yoongi asked as he looked between the two.

his words, however, fell on deaf ears. neither namjoon nor jimin were paying attention to him. the pair was too busy bickering with one another and throwing around curse words instead.

“why the fuck didn’t you clean yourself up afterwards? you knew we were having dinner tonight.”

“you say it as if i purposely decided to show up in bloody clothes.”

“did you not? you’re literally sitting at the dinner table looking like you just finished slaughtering a fucking pig.”

“i mean, well, technically i did slaughter a pig tonight. so…”

now yoongi was really confused.

“wait, you— you slaughtered a pig before dinner? the two of you?” he asked in a confused tone.

“no, yoongi,” jimin said with a sigh. he looked away from namjoon then to yoongi as he continued. “we didn’t- i didn’t kill a literal pig tonight. i killed a man.”

yoongi couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“you killed… a man.”

“yes.”

“and now you’re covered in blood.”

“yes.”

“his blood. that man’s blood.”

“yes.”

“not a pig’s blood?”

“not a pig’s blood,” jimin confirmed before chuckling. “jeez, why are you acting like you’ve never seen someone covered in blood before? did y/n not come home looking like this?”

yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed. he shook his head and said, “no. she didn’t. why would she come home looking like that anyways?”

now it was namjoon and jimin’s turn to be confused. they glanced at one another before turning to look at yoongi who looked just as, if not more, confused as they did.

“yoongi, do you…” namjoon started slowly, pausing for a moment to think about what he was going to say. “do you know what y/n does? like, what she really does?”

“she runs the company that her father left for her,” yoongi answered almost immediately. “why? is there another company that she’s running or something?”

jimin jumped in and said, “not a company per se. more like a… a business of some sort. well, businesses.”

“businesses?” yoongi parroted. “what do you mean by ‘businesses’? namjoon, what the hell is jimin talking about? matter of fact, no, what the hell are you two trying to get at? what’s going on?”

jimin and namjoon looked at each other once again, this time with an unreadable expression on their faces. a sudden wave of anxiety washed over yoongi as he watched the pair with curiosity. he didn’t know it then, but what was about to come out of their mouths would ring in his ears for days to come.

“yoongi,” jimin started in a low, serious tone. “i’m not sure what y/n told you, but… the company isn’t the only thing that her father left for her. nor is she just the head of it.”

namjoon continued in the same tone, “y/n isn’t just another name in the business world, yoongi. she is the sole heir of the jade dragons.”

yoongi’s stomach started to turn.

“heir? she’s the heir?” yoongi muttered.

namjoon nodded in response.

“heir… so that means that she’s…” yoongi couldn’t say it. his tongue felt heavy and it was like the words were all of a sudden stuck in his throat.

he started shaking his head in disbelief.

this had to be some kind of sick and twisted joke, right?

“no,” yoongi said with his voice raised. “no, you’re lying, namjoon. you have to be. you have to be fucking lying to me right now.”

yoongi suddenly stood up from his chair, prompting namjoon and jimin to the same. jimin glanced at the wine glass that yoongi hadn’t put down since the conversation started and noticed how much tighter he was gripping it. it looked like it was about to break any second.

“yoongi, i know you’re in shock right now,” jimin said in a worried tone. “but i think that you should put the glass down. you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“that’s what you’re concerned about? and not the fact that you two have been fucking lying to me this entire time?” yoongi asked in disbelief.

“yes. i mean, no. i mean— look, i can explain everything, okay? i just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“tell me it isn’t true.”

“yoongi, i…”

“tell me it isn’t true, jimin.”

“i can’t… yoongi, i can’t.”

no.

“jimin, i swear to fucking god. tell me right now that it isn’t true.”

please, jimin.

“it’s true, yoongi.”

please.

“no. it can’t be.”

please.

“it is, yoongi. it’s true. we’re not lying.”

please.

the sound of the wine glass suddenly breaking filled the room. yoongi could barely register the small pieces of glass that were now digging into his skin and drawing blood. namjoon reached across the table to assess yoongi’s hand, but he moved his hand away and stepped back.

“she’s the head now, isn’t she? she’s the head of the jade dragons.” yoongi spoke quietly.

namjoon lowered his head and sighed before making a noise in agreement.

yoongi opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. he didn’t know what to say. what was there to be said, anyways? the woman that he once knew was now a stranger—a fact that yoongi tried to ignore since the day that you left, but was now irrefutable—and so were the two men that stood in front of him.

strangers.

the four of you were nothing but strangers to one another.

and maybe that’s all you’d ever be now.

[ovenbakedbones]

JASMINE!

chapter 1 !

pairing : mafia!yoongi x (eventual) str!pper!reader

genre : romance???? mystery? smut??

summary : yoongi cant help himself but investigate the mysterious girl who only sings one song a night at his friends strip club

note : this is my first fic and i havent really planned this?? hope its good tho lmaooo

thank you for all the likes and the reblogs <3

————————————————————————————���——

chapter 1 :

taking another puff of his cigarette, yoongi ignores the calls and texts that flood his phone from his right hand man, Kim Namjoon. he’s late to a meeting and he knows it, he just doesn’t care. he’s tired. he’s been working non-stop for the past few weeks and he needs a stress relief.

the white lotus.

yoongi is not usually a fan of strip clubs. he doesnt need to pay for a woman’s attention, it comes naturally to him. but his close childhood friend, Kim Seokjin, who is a bartender there, has been talking non-stop about how high-end the girls are and how classy the place is compared to your usual run-of-the-mill strip club. so here he is, stood outside of a small building disguised as a restaurant with a small sign that reads ‘the white lotus’

he puts out his cigarette and sighs, running his hand over his slicked back hair and straightening his suit jacket before entering the dingy, dark building. he walks confidently to the back of the ‘restaurant’ and nods at the security who recognises him immediately as Agust D, one of korea’s highest ranking mafia members. the security opens the door behind him without question and bows as yoongi walks in and heads down the stairs. he hears the quiet hum of slow and sensual music and the bright overhead lights begin to dim down and change to red and purple hues.

when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, yoongi is greeted with the sight of of luxurious couches and chairs surrounding strip poles and stages where businessmen drooled over the girls who danced in front of them, throwing their cash at the stage without a second thought. yoongi walked straight past them and further into the club, also ignoring the lap dances and private rooms that no doubt cost a fortune. he ignores the men and women that smile prettily at him, attempting to entice him into paying for their company and failing completely. yoongi doesn’t stop walking until he reaches the bar that was almost completely empty.

seokjin sees him immediately and comes to greet him.

“you know, most people don’t come to a strip club to sit at the bar”

yoongi rolls his eyes and says simply “whiskey, no ice.”

seokjin smirks and puts his drink down in front of him, which yoongi takes immediately.

“don’t you have a meeting to be in right now?” seokjin asks while cleaning some left over glasses.

“needed a break, namjoon’s been on my ass ever since last months raid” yoongi says gruffly, downing the rest of the whiskey before pushing the glass back at seokjin.

“i’ve been telling you for weeks that you needed a break, why now?” jin asks while refilling his drink.

before he can answer, a beautiful, blonde woman dressed in emerald green lingerie approaches the two, resting her manicured hand on yoongi’s bicep while smiling flirtatiously.

“seokjin, why haven’t you introduced me to your handsome friend?” she purrs, looking him up and down.

jin smirks, his eyes tracing her figure for a second too long “jen, meet my good friend, min yoongi”

yoongi turns his head to fully look at her, scoffing when her eyes flash in fear when she links his name to his signature scar.

“otherwise known as Agust D” seokjin finishes

yoongi is used to people fearing him, it just doesn’t surprise him anymore. most people in Korea know his name and has heard countless stories about what he’s done. everyone sees him as a villain, and hes fine with that. he used to like seeing the physical affect that he had on people when they recognised him. how their smiles drop, their eyes widen and their hands start to shake. now he’s just bored of it.

she’s pretty though. she’ll have to do.

“come on then” he sighs and starts to walk towards a private room, he doesn’t bother turning around, he knows she’s following.

the other thing Agust D is known for is being incredibly hot, and he knows it.

before he reaches the private room, the music in the club changes abruptly and he notices how the men immediately turn their attention from the beautiful women in front of them to the unused stage, that was now lit up.

“whats going on there?” he asks jen, not tearing his eyes away from the stage lit up in red, a now visible silhouette of a woman in the centre which made the customers cheer excitedly.

“jasmine’s about to perform” jen smirks and gestures towards an empty chair in the centre of the room. “you might want to watch this”

yoongi narrows his eyes and sits in the chair, noticing how even seokjin and the rest of the staff stop what theyre doing to watch the show.

you stand by the microphone as the lights brighten and reveal you to the audience. wearing a long black dress that enhances your figure and the signature red lipstick that paints your lips, you seductively glance over the crowd. it’s mostly the usuals that come to hear you sing so you dont bother to make eye contact with anyone for too long so you stare at the back of the room as the music starts to play.

one of the girls - the weeknd ft jennie + lily rose depp

lock me up and throw away the key

he knows how to get the best out of me

im no force for the world to see

trade my whole life just to be

yoongi is entranced. along with the rest of the crowd. he’s certain no one notices the 2 dancers on poles that are on either side of you, why would they? you’re too captivating. its not often you see a fully clothed woman in a strip club, but your aura was enough to reel everyone in. the club chatter had stopped completely as your melodious voice filled the room and yoongi couldn’t focus on anything but you.

give me tough love

leave me with nothing when i come down

my kinda love

push me and choke me til i pass out

he watches as your hands slowly snake up the microphone and run down your body, briefly touching your neck before releasing and looking out at the crowd again.

yoongi swears his heart stops when your eyes meet his. you seem amused at how star struck he no doubt looks and you keep staring into his eyes as you continue to sing and smirk at him.

to you, you’re just harmlessly flirting with another business man, you can barely see his face, its just fun to see the effect that you have on men. it’s almost too easy.

push me down, hold me down

spit in my mouth while you turn me on

i wanna take your light inside

your gaze remains stuck on him and yoongi is too entranced to feel smug that he has all of your attention while dozens of men beg for it. he tries not to blink, worried that you’ll look away if he takes his eyes off of you for even a second. luckily for him, you didn’t.

your eyes start to adjust to the light and you get a better look at the mysterious stranger who you’ve been eye-fucking. you can make out his slicked black hair and upturned eyes, his spread legs and his hands that are clasped together. yeah, he’s pretty hot. maybe you should have more fun with teasing him.

you lightly tilt your head and smirk as you narrow your eyes while your fingers twist around your hair, you completely ignore the men whose eyes rake over your body and focus on the stranger who couldn’t tear his gaze away from your eyes.

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

yoongi doesn’t bother to regain his composure. he doesn’t care that he’s one of the most intimidating men in korea. he doesn’t care that he can feel his phone vibrating in his jacket pocket. he doesn’t care that anyone in this club could recognise him and ruin his reputation. all that matters is that, in this moment, he has all of your attention. and he knows that he wants you. and what yoongi wants, yoongi gets.

top of the world but im still not free

its such a secret that i keep

until its gone i can never find peace

brace my whole life just to be

yoongi is sure he could listen to your voice for hours.

he’s never been so affected by a simple gaze before and it gives him a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he pushes it away so he can focus entirely on you.

the song begins to die down and cash is thrown onto the stage but yoongi still cant look away from you. you finally look away and with the dancers help, start collecting the heaps of money on the floor and tuck it into your stocking, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by yoongi.

he waits for the next song to start but furrows his eyebrows when the lights turn off and you abruptly leave the stage, the crowd dispersing and the regular shitty club music starting up again.

yoongi decides that the only music he likes now is what he hears from you.

he stands up quickly and makes his way to the bar as quickly as he can.

“aren’t you joining me in the private room?” jen tilts her head at him and places her hand on his arm once again

“fuck off” he grunts and pulls his arm away from her without looking, making a beeline for seokjin, who is currently talking to a customer.

“i want a room with her” he interrupts, glaring daggers at the customer who leaves immediately once recognising him.

“who? jen? she’s over there” seokjin shrugs

“not fucking jen. jasmine.”

seokjin smirks and gets yoongi another whiskey “sorry man, she doesn’t do that”

“i’ll pay extra” yoongi ignores the drink and stares down his friend who seems amused by this.

“trust me, many men have tried before. no matter how much you offer, she’ll decline”

yoongi scoffs and crosses his arms. “let me meet her. i’m sure she’ll change her mind”

jin sighs “i think she leaves out the back door when she’s done with her song, you can try that”

he turns around immediately, shoving past the men that were crowded around the stage which was now occupied by a dancer and pushes through a door that reads ‘backstage’

he ignores the dancers that tell him he isnt allowed to be there and he spots jen. “where’s the back door?” he asks abruptly, ignoring the looks that the dancers are giving him.

she raises an unimpressed eyebrow and nods towards a transparent door which he immediately pushes through, finding that it leads into a back alley.

he looks left and right, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to spot you, which proves useless. he sighs and leans against the wall, taking out a cigarette and lighting it when his phone begins to buzz yet again.

he takes a puff of his cigarette and picks up the call “namjoon, i dont give a fuck that i missed the meeting. i need you to find someone for me.”