#rm yandere

[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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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.

[rpwprpwprpwprw]

kim namjoon fanfics that has a special place in my heart! part 2 recs! (part 1)

𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗉𝗂𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗋𝗒 , 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗄𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗍, 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗒𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗑 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾.

Two Years by @jjungkookislife (husband!Namjoon x wife!Reader) completed

Accidental Kiss by @babeejeon (bestfriend!namjoon x reader) best friends to lovers au completed

Don’t push your luck by @btsgotjams27 (namjoon x reader) genre/au: angst | ex college rivals, e2l, co-workers, one-bed trope completed

Under the mistletoe by @btsgotjams27 (namjoon x reader) genre/au: fluff | ex college rivals, co-workers, frenemies completed

Pitch Fest by @btsgotjams27 (namjoon x reader) genre/au: fluff, a lil angst (you know me) | co-workers, ex-college rivals, slight e2l completed

Sentient by @trivia-yandere (android!namjoon x reader) genre: yandere completed

Boss Me Around by @margotw10bis (boss!namjoon x assistant!reader) completed

Rough love by @sxtaep (namjoon x reader) completed

Daddy by @author-ssi (namjoon x babysitter!reader) completed

[wildestdreamsblog]

Baby Fever

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Summary: You were more than just a secretary to him.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Breeding kink, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: hiiii! I haven’t felt as inspired as I did while writing this for a while 🥹 I hope you enjoy this!

“I want a baby.”

You sputtered out the coffee you were drinking. Your eyes watered as you coughed. You tried to get your breathing under control as you looked at the imposing man sitting in front of you with his legs spread apart. He had not lifted his eyes from the laptop presented in front of him. He was idly looking at photos of paintings from the various exhibits you attended while he was busy with his group’s schedule. As an idol, and on top of that the leader of the biggest group today, Kim Namjoon was an extremely busy person. You were his secretary for almost four years now. You took care of his personal life, while his personal assistant took care of his work life. You were there for him whenever he was done with his work schedule. You were there to make sure that he remembered to call his family during their birthdays, special occasions, and holidays. In fact, you were the first person he was keen on seeing once he landed from whatever country they were in for work. His members, specially Taehyung and Seokjin, let you know time and time again how much you were appreciated. If you weren’t there, they thought that Namjoon would not be as put up as he was right now. You thought that Namjoon would survived without you.

You coughed twice before finally feeling like you could live. “What?” You asked him in confusion before wiping your self with the handkerchief he had somehow laid out in front of you.

Namjoon eventually looked up to you once he marked the photos of paintings he wanted to purchase. He leaned in, resting his elbow on his muscular thigh before plopping his chin on his hand. “I said, I want a baby.”

You squinted your eyes confusingly, “As in…baby as in baby? Or baby as in I don’t know? Not an actual baby?” You knew even as you asked what he meant. Namjoon was the most intelligent man you knew, and he did not make mistakes when conversing. In fact, he was such a great conversationalist that the media loved to invite him on their shows.

So…what brought this on?

“A child of my own, Y/N.”

That was not the first time he mentioned that. If you could remember clearly, he answered in some interviews that he really wanted to become a father. He even bought that cute little shoes when he was abroad just because. In your mind, you knew he would be the best father if how he took care of his members was any indicator. It broke your heart, though, to see him still alone after all this time.

“I mean…are you seeing someone that I’m not aware of?”

He blinked at you, absorbing what you were asking. How could he had another woman when he spent almost all his free time with you? “No.”

“T-then how?” You asked in puzzlement. You could see from his expression that he was serious about this. He rarely said anything without thinking it thoroughly in the complex and brilliant mind of his. This meant that he really did want to have a child of his own now.

You were finding it difficult to process this. Couldn’t he just want another painting?

Namjoon merely shrugged his broad shoulders and went back to looking over the paintings.

You thought that was the end of it. But no. The second time he mentioned this was at Jin’s house.

You two were about to call it a day after running errands for him. To be honest, you were quite excited for tonight. You were set to meet with your college friends, including someone you always looked up to back in your college years because of his superior intellect. He was also always so kind to you, even walked you home to your dorm every night. But you were too immense in your studies back then that you had no time for relationship. But maybe, now?

You made sure to take more time to dress yourself up this morning. You even chose to swap your usual lipstick to a different shade that made you feel more alluring and beautiful. Your fingers touched the beautiful necklace Namjoon gave you on your birthday last year. You thought that the accessory was perfect with the dress you were wearing.

This would be an easy day for you, you thought to yourself seeing that RM’s schedule was just until the afternoon. You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, satisfied with your appearance before leaving the house. When you showed up at the company to pick him up, the staff politely informed you that the leader was still in the studio with Yoongi and that he told them to ask you to go directly there. You were walking to the floor where the studio was when you passed the three maknaes: Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.

“Oh, noona!” Jungkook called you, his voice in pleasant surprised as he looked at your face. His doe eyes took in your clothes with wonder before meeting your eyes again. “Noona! You look so pretty!”

Taehyung smiled at you and nodded his head. “Our noona looks so fashionable,” he commented as he checked out your get up today. You beamed at his compliment, happy that the fashionable Taehyung approved of you.

Jimin sauntered up to you, teasingly wrapping his arm around your shoulders before smirking at you. “Our noona has a date,” he speculated on a sing-song voice that made the other two chuckled.

“So where is hyung taking you?” Jungkook pondered, excitement apparent in his eyes.

“Don’t tell me he’s taking you to another exhibit? Aish, he’s so unromantic,” Taehyung lamented, shaking his head at the thought of his hyung and the disastrous date that was about to happen.

“Hyung is not unromantic! As if you know anything about romance,” Jungkook pouted, fully on defending mode for his Namjoon hyung. His lips were in an adorable pout as he chastised Taehyung.

“I know how to be romantic!”

“As if! Until when are you going to keep giving tickets to her until she shows up in our concerts, Taehyung?”

“She will! I can still see her commenting in the weverse!”

“So? Her bias is J-hope, not you!”

You chuckled at the three’s cuteness. Taehyung was now the one pouting while Jungkook looked like he was enjoying tormenting his hyung. You watched them for a moment before finally correcting them. “He’s my boss. We’re not going on a date.”

The three maknaes looked at you with confusion in their eyes. “B-but, why are you so beautiful today?”

You squinted your eyes at Jimin, “So I’m not beautiful everyday?”

“N-No! That’s not what we meant-“Jungkook denied quickly, his eyes widening even further. He was afraid of offending his noona because then, his hyung would looked at him with disappointment in his eyes.

You chuckled lightly, deciding on ending their distress by telling them that you were going to meet with your college friends tonight, in which they were silent. They looked at each other for a moment, as though speaking in telepathy before the oldest maknae spoke up.

“So noona, is that an all-girls event, or no?”

“There’s going to be boys. Why do you ask?”

He smiled at you cheekily, but this time the smile did not reach his eyes. “Nothing.”

The three maknaes watched you walked away from them, your eyes focused on the tablet in front of you. They sighed in disappointment and worry.

“Namjoon hyung is going to lose his mind,” Taehyung finally broke the silence.

“I don’t want to be here when he finds out noona is going to meet boys from her college,” Jungkook fretted, holding both Tae’s and Jimin’s arms.

“RM is going to be unbearable after this, isn’t he?” Jimin stated with a smile that looked more like a wince. The few times you went out on a date, Namjoon was insufferable. He was quiet, too quiet that the maknaes were scared to make a mistake or speak too loudly. “Shall we move to the mountains for a while?”

Yoongi opened the door, smiling politely at you before letting you in the studio. RM’s back faced you as he hunched over the workspace. He was deciding on what beat sounded best when you arrived.

“You’re here, Y/N? I’m almost done-“ he trailed off once he turned his chair to look at you. His eyes widened before he managed to erase the awestruck expression in his face. But Yoongi saw. He smirked before sitting down on his workstation, looking up at the pair in front of him. The other one was an idiot despite being the most intelligent man in almost any room, and the other was a naive one. He hid his smile on the cup of coffee he was slowly sipping.

“No worries, Namjoon. Take your time,” you smiled at him before sitting on the sofa. He was still not able to take his eyes off of you. And you, the ever naive one, only flashed him your professional smile.

And Yoongi was enjoying it all.

“You looked different today, Y/N,” Yoongi commented tonelessly, egging the leader beside him. “Right, Namjoon?”

You blushed as you could feel your boss’ heavy eyes on you. You flashed Yoongi a shy smile before turning to look at Namjoon. It was a moment, a heartbeat too long before he replied with seriousness in his voice, “She always looks beautiful, Yoongi.”

He wanted to add that you looked like a masterpiece, one that had different meanings whenever he looked at it during different times in his life. You were timeless, his heart wanted to add. However, his brain was deaf in his heart’s true desires.

You blinked at his sudden praise on you. “T-thank you, Namjoon.”

“Is there an occasion?” Yoongi asked innocently after reading the message sent by the maknaes about you and your supposedly college reunion. He almost chuckled when he read that the three were planning on staying as far from the company as possible. But not him. This was fun to him. In his opinion, the two of you should have been in a relationship for a long time now. He thought Namjoon needed the push, or a shove if Suga was being honest. And he was willing to be the one to do that. He was a kind friend like that.

“Oh, I have a reunion with my college friends tonight,” you shared as you fixed the papers that Namjoon needed to look at. You wanted to be efficient today so Namjoon could use the rest of the day to finally relax. You thought his eyes looked a little tired lately.

“You didn’t tell me that,” Namjoon noted lightly, fixing you with his hard stare. “What time are you going to meet them? Where are you going to meet? Will you be out late?”

Yoongi was smiling as he watched RM threw question after question at you. Yet, he failed to ask one thing that should be asked.

“Are there gonna be boys, Y/N?” Yoongi asked innocently, blinking owlishly at you before leaning back and watching it all unfold.

Your affirmative answer made RM’s mood turned sour.

You were on edged as you drove the car expertly from the last location of the schedule today. Even at his age, people around Namjoon still adamantly refused to let him drive. The members thought that he would be a danger to people around him, and to himself as well. Namjoon was uncharacteristically silent as you drove. He was either staring at you or outside. Ever since you picked him up from the company, you could feel that something was off. You just could not pinpoint at it. On the other hand, Namjoon was contemplating…or more appropriately scheming as to how he could keep you with him today.

“Let’s go to Jin’s,” he finally broke the silence, flashing you his normal, dimpled smile.

“What?” This was not in the schedule today. You purposely scheduled light meetings today so that he could go home and you would have more than an ample time to drive to the reunion.

“It’s still early. I promise we’re only going to be an hour.”

Lie.

“Ahhhh actual people!” Jin greeted when he opened the door and saw you and Namjoon. He was carrying the box of baby books he insisted would be helpful to the brain development of Jin’s son.

“Hyung, your son is an actual person,” Namjoon said in a light tone as he took in Jin’s state. Despite the bags under his eyes, he was still so handsome that fans would still call him the worldwide handsome. He looked tired, but his eyes held so much happiness that RM could not helped but be happy for his hyung. At the same time, he wanted, no, he craved the domesticity that Jin was now experiencing.

The men were talking and laughing about work as Jin’s wife lead you to her son. You cooed at the child and thought that he would break a lot of hearts in the future. He was a carbon copy of Jin. He was laughing at you when you made funny faces at him, the melodious laughter reached the men’s ears.

“He likes you,” Jin commented, fondly watching his handsome son babbled and laughed. “Do you want to hold him?” His lovely wife asked.

“Really? Can I?” You asked in wonder. She smiled at you before gently laying the happy child safely in your arms.

Your heart melted as you held Jin’s little bundle of joy. The little weight you were holding was someone else’s whole world. He was barely six months old and yet he had so much personality like his father.

“You’re so beautiful, little one,” you whispered to the baby looking up at you as if he understood every word you said.

Namjoon could not even begin to decipher what it was he was feeling when he saw you holding the little Jin in your arms. He just felt this warm feeling in his heart, as if the image of you holding a baby in your arms was from a dream come true. The image was forever imprinted in his mind, he was sure. Something about you felt right. Something about you felt like the missing piece in his life. You had always been there for him. He was not ignorant to think that he could survive without you in his hectic life.

He thought that you were meant to stay in his life.

You were so focused that you almost missed the heat from Namjoon’s body when he leaned in and looked at the baby from your shoulder. You could feel his breath this close that it made you heart beat louder. Was it from shocked? Was it from shyness? Or was it from something else that you had spent years denying?

“So precious,” Namjoon whispered softly. You jumped from the deepness of his voice. You shivered from the body contact you were not used to. You cleared your throat before turning to him.

“Do you wanna hold him?”

And once he had the tiny human in his muscular arms, Namjoon smiled tenderly at Jin’s son. He brushed the sparse of hair he had on his head gently.

For the second time, he said, “I want a baby of my own.”

You were surprised that he once again brought it up. This time it was not only to you but to his hyung. Jin blinked as if he was startled by RM’s admission. He looked at you before looking at his friend.

“I’m sure you’ll be a great father, Namjoon,” Jin said in all seriousness. He knew he would. He was sure of it.

“When will you start making a baby of your own, Namjoon?” His wife asked him teasingly, leaning against Jin as they looked at the man observingly.

RM glanced at you, “Soon.”

You were already an hour too late to be considered fashionably late that RM insisted that he’d have his driver dropped you off to your reunion. You wanted to say no, yet you knew it would be impossible to resist Namjoon whenever he was in that mood. He always knew how to get his way, you thought. His intelligent mind knew just what to do, just what to say in order to get what he wanted.

And that night, he did.

Your college friends looked at you happily when you stepped out of the car. They walked closer to you, welcoming you to the party. And there you saw him, the man you hadn’t been able to forget. He was still as handsome as ever. You couldn’t help but smile when he was approaching when you felt a presence behind you.

“Hi. I just dropped off Y/N. I’m sorry she’s late,” RM greeted the group charmingly before nonchalantly placing his large hand on your waist. You jumped from the contact. He never did that. What would your friends think? Your head was in overdrive that you didn’t notice your friends fawning over the Kim Namjoon. He was treating them kindly, allowing them to take pictures with him before he turned to you.

“Enjoy your night, Y/N,” he murmured before placing a kiss on your cheek.

Well, there went your chance with your college crush.

You didn’t know what to make of his actions that when you went to his house the following week for information pertaining to the property he was looking at, you were on edged. You didn’t have to knock because he told you before to just enter his penthouse. You were given access to his home. You took a deep breath before walking inside his house, not knowing what to anticipate with him, with his touch…and that kiss that should not have happened.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re here! Come sit!” Namjoon’s mom called from his dining table, smiling pleasantly at you that you froze. You didn’t expect her here but at least there was a buffer between the two of you now, right?

“It’s been so long! You’re so thin! Is my son too hard on you?” She asked as she pulled you to sit beside her, in front of RM who only looked intently at you. You couldn’t read his expression. He was wearing a simple black shirt that fit a little too snugly on his chest. You hated how you were noticing yet again his physical qualities like you did when you were merely starting. His mom was still reprimanding his son as she put plate in front of you despite you offering to help. She merely shrugged you off, happy that you were there to take care of her son. Who knew what would happen to him if you weren’t here, she thought. RM was silently eating, enjoying the way his mom was mothering you when she turned her attention to him once again.

“When will you give me a grandchild? With the way you are working, you have no time for family! All my friends and neighbors have at least one grandchild. Son, just give me one, okay? Just one,” She pleaded as she placed more food on his plate.

“Okay, omma,” Namjoon consented. He was serious, yet his mother groaned as if he was just placating her.

“You,” she turned to you, placing more food on your plate as well. “Don’t be like my son. Go make your own babies! I’ll just borrow your child every once in a while, okay?” She told you humorously as she laughed and told you that you needed to eat more.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, the man’s face darkened with the mere thought of you carrying someone else’s child. He hated the thought of you not being his. He had the whole weekend to think intensely, and all the answers pointed to you.

You didn’t have time to discuss with him what had transpired. The following weeks, he was busy with work, yet this time he had always quietly ordered that you’d be with him. Before, you only had to meet with him thrice a week. But now, you were with him almost everyday. You were working in his office when Hoseok and Yoongi entered the room.

“Oh! Y/N, you’re here!” Hoseok exclaimed before walking to you with the brightest smile you had ever seen. Yoongi only smiled at you in acknowledgement before approaching RM and showing him his laptop. They were deep in conversation when Hoseok asked you if you knew where the list for the event was. You nodded before standing up. It was in the overhead cabinet. You reached for it in difficulty for a moment when you felt a hand on your waist, and RM’s muscular arm stretched beside you as he grabbed with such ease what you were trying to reach. He was as near as that night. “Here you go, Y/N,” he whispered…and heavens did it feel sensual in your ear. His hot breath tickled your neck. You could feel your cheeks heat up from his proximity.

You were starting to notice that RM was becoming…touchy lately. It didn’t feel disrespectful to you, it just felt like something changed with the way he was acting, with the way he was looking at you, with the way he was demanding your attention.

J-hope looked at Suga in astonishment. Were these two finally a thing?

One night, you were walking to your humble apartment with Namjoon beside you. His hands were in his pockets as he walked you to your door despite you telling him that you were fine. But you should know, he was a stubborn one. It was late, and the only light were from the hallway of your apartment. It was almost midnight when the two of you arrived at your apartment after checking out the house Namjoon wanted to buy. He asked you what you thought of it, and you said it was beautiful. The yard was spacious with swimming pool. The house itself had numerous bedrooms that you didn’t know who would stay there. In your mind, you rationalized that it must be his members if ever they wanted to stay. In Namjoon’s mind, it was for his family. He listened intently to what you had to say, and only when he saw how your face lightened up when you saw the whole house did he decide to buy it.

“Here I am, boss Namjoon,” you announced jokingly before straining to look up at your tall employer.

You blinked when he only stared at you, “Namjoon?”

“Good night, my princess,” he murmured with his deep voice.

Did he just…call you his princess?

You were too shocked to notice him leaning down. And once he did, you felt his lips kissed your forehead softly, his large hand on the back of your head. You were frozen when he stepped back.

And then he left.

Namjoon thought you needed time to process everything. He knew you were an over-thinker, that you were a flight risk. He just didn’t know you would be like this with mere kisses on your cheek and forehead. You hadn’t been picking up your phone since that day, and he had half a mind to go to your apartment. But he had to keep in mind that there were less conspicuous method to use.

You read the message from Namjoon this afternoon. Apparently, he forgot to pick up the gift he had for his father’s birthday and he was now in his hometown. He was half-pleading and half-apologizing for his clumsiness that you felt bad to just leave him on read. And so you replied that you’d bring it to him.

Your mind was blank as you drove for hours to him. Ever since that night, the feelings you had tried so hard to bury and successfully did, were resurfacing. It was unfair, you thought. You didn’t have the emotional capacity to fall for him. You knew how this would end. When you started to work for him, you thought he was everything. You looked up to him because he was so kind, so intelligent, and so masculine. He was gentle with you even when you made a mistake. He helped you find an apartment that was safe after he saw how you were living before. He paid for the deposit and for the rent during the first year despite your adamant refusal. He even paid for your grandmother’s hospital bills, the only family you had. She had lived longer than what the doctor said. She died without experiencing difficulty eventually, all thanks to RM’s connections to the best hospitals. You wanted to pay him. You even refused to accept your salary, with no success. Namjoon just merely shrugged and said he wouldn’t let anything happen to you as long as he was around. And you believed him.

And so, you did your best to take care of him day and night. Even going beyond your job description. You became his secretary, but what was more, you became his friend, an ear to vent on, even a shoulder to lay his head to rest.

One night, RM had too much to drink. He was feeling suffocated from the pressure of the world. You found him staring on an empty bottle of whiskey when you arrived in his penthouse. That night, you sat with him, listened to his worries, rubbed his back with comforting hands. You assured him that he was not the version he thought of himself. He was better. He was the best man you ever knew. You told him how much you appreciated him, and that he was doing his best.

That night, he asked you what he would do without you.

That night, you told him he’d never have to find out.

That night, he kissed you.

And come morning, he forgot about it.

But you didn’t. And that was the first time he hurt you.

Your memory trail stopped when you saw him standing in front of their house, waiting for you.

His father, just like his mother, was able to convince you to stay the night. He said you were family, and that it would be his birthday wish to spend it with the woman who managed to keep his son alive. He even joked that without you, RM would probably forget to pay his bills, to keep his fish alive, or even to eat. You laughed and said RM was becoming more mature lately and that he could survive without you. RM disagreed.

“You know what, you could do so much than be with my brother,” RM’s younger sister said teasingly as all of you were eating dinner. She stuck her tongue out to her brother who just rolled his eyes at her.

“Oh,” you chuckled shyly before looking at the tall man sitting beside you. “We’re not together!”

“Why not? I was just kidding. I think you’re perfect for him,” she admitted before smiling at the two of you. She was just voicing out what her family had been thinking for years. By now, you were a permanent fixture in their lives that if and not when the day comes that RM introduced someone else to them, they would find it hard to accept her.

You chuckled before telling her that your relationship with her brother was strictly professional.

“He’s working you too hard, isn’t he?” His father asked you as he shook his head at his innocent son. “Listen to me, life is too short to work all day. Go out and have a beautiful life! Or else you’ll find yourself old and alone one day without a family of your own.”

Once the intimate party died down, you found yourself talking with RM in the living room with alcohol in front of you. The two of you were seated on the floor side by side with the sofa behind you. His parents had called it a night after drinking with them, while his sister tapped out as well. Alcohol and the existence of other people helped to die down the awkwardness you felt. You were laughing at RM’s anecdote about the thing that happened during their dance practice. He watched you with contentment in his face. Seeing you happy was making him feel like he did something right, like he won one of those awards. He didn’t know when it started, but he just knew the desire to make you laugh would never go away. He was sure of it.

“I’m sorry about my family. They’re just used to teasing me.”

You waved him off before pouring his empty glass, before pouring yours. “It’s nothing, really. I had fun. I’m glad I came.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” he admitted, his look at you was as intense as that night that your heart started to beat harder, as if it wanted to escape the cage it was in. You blinked and decided to look away. You fanned yourself, “It’s quite warm in here, right?”

Namjoon smirked before drinking, his eyes never wavering from your face. “You’re beautiful, princess,” he commented, his voice deep as he waited for you to look at him again. He was near, so near that his thighs were touching yours. So near that whenever he moved, his muscular arm brushed against yours.

“God, you’re so drunk,” you muttered before looking up at him.

“I may be. But come morning and ask me again, and I’d still tell you you’re the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me.”

You gulped, his voice deepened even further. “You’re the most important person in my life,” he admitted with intensity in his voice, with promise in his eyes. “I know I love you.”

Your eyes widened before attempting to move away from him when you felt his massive hand on your back, preventing you from moving away from him, effectively stopping you from running away from the truth that he never tried to fight.

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, your hand now on his chest as you tried to stop him from coming any closer. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he’d feel how hard your heart was beating just for him. Or how terrified you were of falling, only to have him forget about it again. To forget you again.

“I do. I mean it,” he whispered leaning in slowly at you. “I love you.” And then he kissed you. And you were all too powerless to stop him. He pulled away after a moment. You were breathing hard, your eyes trained on his lips before meeting his eyes. And then this time, you kissed him.

You didn’t know how, but the two of you found yourselves in his bedroom. His hand was entangled with your hair, your hands caressing his broad back as he walked you to his bed. You were drunk from the alcohol and his kisses, his heavenly kisses. He pushed you gently to the bed, and not a second was wasted before he joined you. You pulled off his shirt, your eyes in awe at his form. His muscles were definitely more defined now than when you last saw it accidentally back when you were just beginning to work for him. His chest looked definitely stronger. You were aware of this from seeing him wearing tight shirts, but this? This was something else.

You moaned lightly as Namjoon trailed kisses on your neck, peppering it with subtle marks of his own. He thought that you were his, and that your neck should be adorned with his marks. “Keep it down, princess,” he teased you as he got impatient with the endless buttons of your blouse that he resorted to ripping it off of you. He couldn’t be gentle. Not when the woman of his dreams was finally on his bed. “Or do you want me to cover your mouth?”

You didn’t know that he had it in him to be a dirty talker. You were feeling the heat when he smirked at you before you felt his lips on your chest, down to your stomach, and finally to your core. You closed your legs, shyness finally coming back to you as you sobered from his sinful kisses. He was kneeling, his legs were on either side of you as he leaned closer to you once again. “Be a good girl and open your legs, princess,” he ordered, his hand caressing your soft thigh.

His commanding voice was like a hypnotic spell that you found yourself opening your legs slowly for him. And as a reward, he made your legs shook. You were still catching your breath that you didn’t notice he placed a pillow under you, lifting your core. He kissed you once again on your lips so tenderly, so lovingly that for a moment you believed he loved you.

“You are made for me, princess,” he whispered before looking at you with darkness in his eyes, “You’re made for daddy. Say it.”

You keened when you felt his hardness slide at your core teasingly, punishingly as you waited a little too long to repeat what he wanted you to.

“Say it, princess. Don’t make daddy mad,” his hot breaths were tickling your ear as he pinched your sore nipple that you yelped.

“I-I’m made- ugh- I’m made for daddy,” you finally said as you felt his thick head slowly entered your drenched core.

“And who’s your daddy?”

“You are.”

That night, he told you repeatedly how you were his and his only. He made you promised that you would never leave him, and that you would never ignore him once again. He made you come so much that you lost track of the time. His large hand was on your mouth, preventing you from waking the whole house up as he rutted against you with so much stamina and passion. He made you so mindless that you didn’t realize he was finishing inside you each time. He made sure to not let a single drop leave your core.

The third time he didn’t have to mention about wanting a baby of his own, he just did.

Tip Jar

[delidelicate]

Physical pain is insignificant compared to the torture of being without you. I would bleed a thousand times to have you. 🩸

[yankpop]

Yandere BTS: You want to become an idol - Hyung Line

DISCLAIMER: This is a FICTION work only made for entertainment purposes that includes yandere/dark. I do not support or encourage any type of abusive behaviour. 

Check more: Masterlist.

Female reader

WARNINGS: Toxic/Unhealthy Relations; Emotional manipulation. 

AN: Hope you guys like it 💖 Let me know!

--

Jin

The table is awfully quiet, only the sounds of the plates and the cutlery being heard as you and Jin eat dinner in complete silence. 

You don’t dare to pronounce a single word, too intimidated by Jin’s cold aura.

He hasn’t even properly looked at you ever since you happily revealed to him that you got casted  in the street by a random lady to become a trainee. 

When he starts eating dessert, that’s when you finally build the courage to talk. 

“Jin, I really want to try this.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s still heard by Jin, who flashes you an icy glance. 

“And I really don’t want you to. That simple.” he shortly says, his attention back to the food.

The uncomfortable knot in your stomach tightens, you’re not used to fighting back Jin. He’s the one who usually makes all the decisions and you obediently follow him, trusting his judgment. 

This time, you’re risking into unknown territory all for  a mere desire to be a trainee. 

“I just want to try it, maybe I could like it, you know?” you tentatively try.

Jin’s hand flexes hard around the fork, before he pushes the plate away.  

“We had a plan, Y/N, didn’t we? I'll work and make the money while you take care of the house.” he sharply reminds you. You open your mouth to say something but Jin notices it and puts his index finger in front of his lips, indicating you to stay silent. 

“We are going to get married. We are going to have kids and you are going to stay home to take care of them. This is what we agreed on, isn’t it? And now you want to change our perfect plans because of a selfish whim of yours.” he says, livid with cold anger as he crosses his arms in his chest.

“If I wanted to be with someone who’s unreliable, then I’d be with another girl. I’m dating you cause I thought I could trust you. Maybe I was wrong.” his eyes send daggers your way and you bite your lip, suddenly feeling guilty for almost ruining your future plans together.

Jin often talked about them with so much love and passion that you couldn’t stop yourself from agreeing with whatever he said. And now you can’t break his dreams because of something that may not work.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you weakly nod.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’ll back down from it.” 

Words never sounded so good to Jin.  

Suga

You excitedly watch as Yoongi opens the box. You want him to be the first person to find out that you got casted by one of the Big 3 for a 6-month trainee contract. 

But you clearly weren’t expecting his face to turn completely sour, the realization hitting him as his eyes run over the written contract.

He pushes the papers away, giving you a serious look.

“What’s this shit? Are you really considering going through with this? Without even talking to me?” he throws, raising his eyebrows. 

“Hum? W-What do you mean?” you confusedly stutter and then stop, too intimidated by the strict gaze Yoongi gives you.

He stands up and starts pacing around the living room.

“Then you thought completely wrong. Fuck, what did I tell you about making decisions on your own? Stop using your brain and leave the important stuff up to me since you obviously don’t know anything about this.” he furiously snaps, giving you an angry look that makes you shrink back into the couch. 

He grabs back the contract papers and gives them a quick verification. 

“At least you didn’t sign it. You’re not completely dumb, after all.” he sighs. “Where’s your phone?”

You raise your head, confusedly looking at him. Yoongi loses his patience and snaps his fingers in front of your face. 

“Your phone, now!” the small shake he gives you is enough to wake you from your lethargy and you immediately hand him your phone.

He practically snatches it from your hold, dialing the number he finds on the contract papers.

“Hello? This is Yoongi, Y/N’s boyfriend. Yes, about the trainee thing…,” Yoongi pauses, giving you a dirty look, “... actually she’s unable to do so because of some personal incompatibilities. Sorry for wasting your time. Bye.”

He hangs up the call before the other person can even reply. You can’t even utter a single word from how embarrassed you are.

You hold out your hand to receive your phone back but Yoongi ignores you and puts the device in his back pocket.

“Since you pulled so much trouble, you don’t deserve to have your phone back until you start behaving accordingly.” 

J-Hope

Hoseok forces back a witty smile as he tries to console you. It does create a bit of a turmoil in his heart to see you so shaken up, practically traumatized, but it’s all for a good cause.

He puts his hand on top of yours, faking a concerned expression, like a good boyfriend would. 

“And you’re sure you found it in the manager’s bag?” he asks again, like he was trying to understand it. 

You shakily nod, a shiver making your body tremble. 

“I- Yes, I’m sure of it. My lost panties were literally in his bag.” you sniff, shaking your head.

“I just can’t believe my manager would steal my panties! God, Hoseok, I really thought he was a good person, he never acted weird around me or anything so I don’t understand why..” You trail off, too shaken up to continue as Hoseok involves your shoulders with his arm. 

“That’s really awful. Disgusting. And…” he strategically pauses, waiting for you to ask him.

A second later you look at him, taking in his worried expression.

“What is it, Hoseok ?” 

He shrugs off his shoulders, pretending to be confused.

“I just… I mean, who tells you that he’s going to stop there, you know. He’s the manager while you’re just a trainee. Who knows if he doesn’t get bold with his actions and instead of just stealing panties he doesn't… you know.” 

Hoseok is clever enough to not finish the sentence, leaving the implicit meaning of his words hanging in the air.

Needless to say that you quickly drop the idea of pursuing an idol career. 

RM

“Again.” 

Your heart drops at the sound of that word. You’re sick and tired of it. Your muscles are completely sore, the white top you’re wearing drenched in sweat.

The result of practicing the exact same choreography for hours and hours to no end. 

“But I did everything right this time!” you try to argue only to be shut down by your boyfriend, who gives you a stern look.

“No, that’s what you think. I’ve been training and performing for years so trust me when I say this is far from perfect. No one will debut you if you keep up this poor excuse of dancing.”

The words are crude and they hit you in the wrong spot. 

Tears start rising to your eyes and your shoulders slump forward with defeat. 

Namjoon notices the impact of his words, his expression immediately softening as he comes forwards to embrace you. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that, you know that. It’s just…. you asked me to help you practice and no matter how demanding you think i’m being right now, the truth is I’m nothing compared to professional choreographers level. They are going to be even more strict.” he tries explaining, offering you a bottle of water.

Drinking a greedy sip of water, you feel your whole body in fire, unable to do anything else. 

It’s too much for you. You can’t do it.

“Namjoon… don’t think I want to do this anymore.” you slowly whisper, your face falling into your hands in defeat. “I can’t be an idol.”

“It’s okay, babe. It’s fine, really. Hey, look at me.” he gently grasps your hands away from your face, and you look at him with a miserably sad expression.

“Everyone has their own calling in life and maybe being an idol isn’t for you. It’s for the best, I’m sure of it.” 

His words do little to console you and he still hugs you, even with your sweaty clothes. 

Hiding his face in the crook of your neck, Namjoon hides a relieved sigh.

He was never gonna allow you to become an idol and now that you rejected an idol career, he was off the hook. 

-> Maknae Line

[s0ftlyp03t]

let me carve my name in your skin so everyone knows u belong to me. ♡

[btskitty17]

The Yandere Doll Walks Free at Christmas 🪽 pt. 1

(Jungkook X Reader Series)

Pt. 1 :Wishlist

"I understand that you filled out a Toybox application form, requesting a boyfriend?” She really had had been too much of a good girl. But the last thing that she had expected was to actually end on the top of the Nice list on Christmas Eve and get exactly what she had asked for…or not. As she grows increasingly fond of his pattering presence in the background, she begins to ponder whether a present from Santa Claus is supposed to possess such a darkly dominant disposition, which only begins to expose itself bit by bit.

main masterlist

genre: slight humour, dark fantasy au ୨୧

🪽 ongoing (10-ish parts of 1-2k words throughout December 🎅🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❆⛄)

warnings: jungkook x fem! reader (insert any name of your choice), yandere behaviour displayed by the male main character: possessive, controlling + clingy tendencies, eventual smut, seemingly chaste fantasy with a sinister twist

🎄~ ୨୧ 🎄~ ୨୧ 🎄~ ୨୧

Even though ___ was swamped with work, she could not ignore that the air was scented with festivity.

The final rendition of her non-fiction manuscript was due right after the holidays, and it was the promise of a publishing deal from a prestigious academic think-tank that propelled her to work throughout her Christmas break and only see her family and friends at dinner parties. Her book was framed as a commentary on contemporary socio-political subcultures and consisted of the findings from her research work which spanned over four years. Was she going to be the next Joan Didion? Or perhaps, a likeness of Susan Sontag? Who’s to say, but she surely liked fantasising along these lines.

As snow settled on the windowpanes of her house and Christmas pop songs drifted from her neighbour’s balcony, ___ made herself a cozy setup with multiple blankets, and continued typing away at her laptop, occasionally sipping from her reindeer-themed coffee mug. Ever the workaholic, ___ was going to spend Christmas Eve shut into her apartment, and obsessively read and reread her research proposal, check the index sheet associated with her project and the revise statistics that she had painstakingly put together. Despite her best efforts, she could not find a flaw. And yet, it was too early to call it a night, so she scrolled through her social media as a Hallmark movie calmly played on her flatscreen, tapping hearts on the array of photographs of her friends’ holiday nighttime rituals of eggnog-drinking, reels of their party tricks, exorbitant decorations and their recent vacations to Cabo, to Mallorca and other seemingly exotic destinations, ___ could not bring herself to envy her friends’ international getaways: she was just far too busy to break free from her routine.

___ knew she that wanted more from life than just grading papers as a teaching assistant while working on her PhD; there was a certain kind of solace that a classroom full of sulky nineteen-year-olds in an eight-thirty morning lecture was not going to grant her so she started volunteering at a children’s shelter earlier in the year and as days went by, they looked forward to her interacting with them, helping them with their homework, bringing them crayons, stickers, and at times takeaway junk food, which brought the kids joy and her, some much needed contentment. She had assisted the children in adorning their Christmas trees with candy canes, giant toffees,  miniature bells, Santa Claus masks and faux snow-streaks and even joined in on the custom of writing a letter to Santa along with them; despite feeling a bit silly, and upon being assured that no one was going to read hers, she scribbled that she hoped to have a boyfriend and stuffed it hastily in the red-and-white striped, cartoonish post-box located in the party-room of the children’s home.

 ___’s apartment had been scrubbed clean with the utmost attention-to-detail and she had draped decorative red and green lights around the windowpanes. The Christmas tree standing tall in her living room, gleamed with trinkets like golden and silver baubles, clusters of ribbons, and large red bows; her favourite ornament was the decade-old mini-Edward Cullen figurine, a memento of her teenaged Twilight obsession, peeking from the canopy of the tree. She could be merry after all, despite everything on her to-do list. After a dinner of soup and butter-garlic sticks, __ drifted off to sleep nestled by her soft-pink quilt as Christmas carols wafted in the distance. 

The morning of Christmas was bitingly cold, catalysed by fresh snowfall; ___ shuddered upon waking up, as she pulled a woollen cardigan over her torso and decided that a mug of spiced coffee ought to be the perfect to start to her holiday and headed towards the kitchen.

The sight of her Christmas tree brought ___’s feet to an abrupt halt as an involuntary gasp left her lips. A giant box awaited her in the living room. “Doll,” the label on it seemed to say simply. A man, around her own age, seemed to be enclosed within it, staring at her, with an uncanny, unblinking gaze, ___ wanted to shriek and scream; there was a peculiar present in her living room, and a man she had never seen before, tied up all pretty with ribbons, delivered inside a cardboard gift box nonetheless, but she could not bring herself to either move or scream; ___  felt as if she could be dreaming, given that there was a handsome yet creepy being standing beneath the golden star placed atop her Christmas tree. Who was he and why was he in a box? And who let him have such a graceful, neat entrance into her house?

“What?” ___ finally managed to squeak out.

“It is your delivery from Santa Isle… I understand that you filled out a Toybox application form, requesting a boyfriend?” The man inside the box spoke up at last, sensing her disbelief.

“I did not order anything… Wait, wait, how did you get in?”

“There is an elaborate process that is followed; the gift delivery services of Santa Isle possess absolute accuracy and we have our own undisclosable ways of reaching the destination, which in this case, was your residence. I am certain an order has been placed for a boyfriend; I am meant for you, otherwise I never would have been sent to this part of the world.” his way of speaking was extremely lucid though his voice was a low droll of molten honey.

___ racked her brain to recollect when could she have possibly filled a form for a present like this and thought about the possibility of an ethereal landscape called Santa Isle, and the way this doll-box was magically inserted under her Christmas tree. She soon began to question her sanity.

“Not everyone is privileged to receive exactly what they have mentioned on the form… There are mechanisms through which we monitor’s the applicants’ good deeds, and you, have been awarded the top spot in your province; I have skimmed your file, it said that you have dedicated this year to children’s welfare endeavours, thereby creating a rightful place for yourself on the Nice list and thus, deserving of anything that you wish for on Christmas.”

“You all are collecting my data without my knowledge?”

“Isn’t everyone?” he snickered; his face came into focus after her initial haze of perplexity....

The so-called doll was clad rather gentlemanly in an immaculate two-piece tuxedo; his wide doe-eyed gaze and arched eyebrows made him seem perpetually amused at something and his facial features, albeit innocent, wore the armour of a mature expression, like a baby cosplaying a warrior; her questions remained unanswered despite the fact that he was so sure of the legitimacy of his presence in a gift-box under her Christmas tree.

“I realise that you might be bewildered but you were the only applicant who requested a human relationship… you wrote down that you desired to have a boyfriend, a wish that would now be fulfilled by me, a Santa Isle worker; the other people at the children’s shelter had wished for video games, comic book-sets, and so on…” he attempted to explain, observing the confused scowl cemented on her face. It was Christmas after all, she should not be frowning.

“Are you implying that the post-box at the children’s shelter named Little Smiles possesses a direct portal to Santa’s Isle? What are you even talking about… how is any of this real?”

“I can understand your disbelief but, there are many realms in this world that you might be unaware of. We have a radar that monitors needy children’s wish-lists and we leave them anonymous packages with the items that they have wished for around Christmas every year…Contrary to popular belief, there is a Santa and he is hard at work… you happened to insert your own list along with the children, and we here, at Santa Isle, fulfil each and every wish that we come across.”

“What do you mean? Is Santa your boss? I am having a hard time believing that I am not the centre of a prank-based reality television show…and even more shocked by your ability to get into the house…How did that happen? Another one of Santa’s miracles?”

“I am not a criminal, if that is what you are thinking. Could you please unbox me? That plate of cookies looks ever so delicious and I have been waiting for you to wake up since midnight so…”

___ stepped forward furtively, eyeing the doll-man, man-doll, overgrown doll? What was he, an adult toy? Wait that sounds wrong, ___ thought.

___ extended her hand to unfurl the pink ribbon garlanded around the giant, transparent toybox as he looked on with anticipatory eyes; as soon as the ribbon was undone, he began to step outside the box: turns out that the unboxing was a mere ceremonious activity, he could have been outside this whole time if he wanted to, but it was the recipient’s right to unwrap the present on Christmas morning.

“Jungkook Jeon.”

“Um?”

“My name is Jungkook and I am assigned to be your boyfriend. But there are some activities that have been listed on my agenda that have to be conducted with you before you can bestow that title on me,” Jungkook stated in the most placid of tones, as if he was there to carry out the simplest of tasks: doorstep boyfriend.

“What sort of activities are you insinuating? Listen I will ring up the apartment building’s security right now if you pull something funny, I swear I do not look like it but I am capable of kicking you back to --,” ___ rambled in an exasperated state, even more confused now.

“Activities like going to dinner and playing recreational games! Why are you suspecting me and threatening me with violence with each and every step that I take?” Jungkook’s voice was now raised a bit, flustered by this impossible customer, who was putting his reputation as the Santa Isle worker with the most golden stars (a token of appreciation) for his service-delivery, at risk.

___ scanned Jungkook from head to toe; he was glorious in his formal wear whilst she was yelling at him with a mismatched set of a tank top and floofy pyjamas on, secured by an ancient, lint-laden fraying cardigan: a clothing article that she only kept because of its sentimental value as it not did not do much to keep her warm, rendering her a quivering, blathering mess. Jungkook’s ocean-wide eyes were fastened on her being, watching out for further explosive reactions but he had worn her down, the girl just wanted her morning cup of coffee; she was tired of overanalysing the situation and questioning the existence of Santa Claus’ secret city. Or was it a factory? She will have to ask Jungkook.

Jungkook was not average-looking by any means; he was a doll, that was for certain, ___ she thought. The structure of his body was burly, his fairly large built was evident as he loomed several inches above her; ___ was surprised by his ability to fit into the box that now lay opened on the floor. His crisp white shirt clung to his well-formed biceps and broad shoulders, a contrast to the fabric cinched around his narrow, narrow waist. Nevertheless, this beautiful being was practically an alien for her.

“You are shivering,” Jungkook spread out his arms and drew ___ into his unexpected embrace.

“What are you doing?” ___’s twitching and thrashing was no match for Jungkook’s athletic arms.

“I would be a failure as a boyfriend if I let you shake like a leaf in the wind on my very first day here," Jungkook spoke with a gentle pout.

___ could feel Jungkook’s gaze cutting into her, as he enfolded her in the tightest hug he could possibly dole out.  ___ discerned the rhythmic thrum of his heart with her back against his strong chest and her senses were clouded by his scent, which was a concoction of dark chocolate and musk, a combination that she found brought her an immense and indescribable oceanic calm, as if all her anxieties were rolling into the sea-waves and away into a sunset; all her defences against him seemed to momentarily collapse. He was humming a pop-duet which was currently deemed a chartbuster, and his way of singing made it sound like a tranquil lullaby; his enormous palms were running circles around ___’s nearly bare shoulders as her cardigan slipped from her frame. Jungkook bore the warmth of a fireplace, it seemed, ___ could no longer tell that it was even snowing outside.  

___ was almost lulled to sleep, when she felt Jungkook lower his face and let his soft lips wander to nape of her neck: an action which broke the trance she was in and made her eyes snap open as she jerked her face away from Jungkook with indignance burning within her irises; this was inappropriate.

“How dare you? You are not my boyfriend!” she bellowed.

Jungkook was staggered by ___’s sudden shouting, and her denial of the very label which defines him at the moment: boyfriend, she was his, rightfully so; a pitch-black look overcame his otherwise innocent features, and the formal yet genial smile that he had been wearing till now also dissipated, leaving behind a cold stare which had now claimed ___ as its victim.

To be continued ⊹

(will update my main masterlist with newer parts as i write, thank you for reading 🎀)

DISCLAIMER  This is a work of fanfiction with the BTS members as characters; I do not claim ownership to the aforementioned characters. This fanfiction has been written solely for entertainment.

© @btskitty17 on tumblr 2024

~ ୨୧ ♡ · ₊

[chaoticpuff17]

When the Chips are Down

part 27

masterlist

Y/N couldn’t say that she was a big fan of weddings. She hadn’t been too a large number of them, but even counting her own horrible day, this was the worst wedding she had ever been to.

Iyla, for her part, took the ordeal like a champion. She marched down the aisle on Namjoon’s arm with all the grace of a queen and all the wrath broiling within both of them shining in her eyes. While Y/N had spent her own wedding in a haze, Iyla seemed all too aware of what was happening to her. She completed each part of the ceremony with contempt. Each time she was asked to do something, she would pause for an uncomfortably long moment before she would comply, a stubborn tilt to her head and a mocking glint in her eye as though she was daring Hoseok to do something.

Unlike her sister, Iyla still held the belief that there was an escape from the hellscape they had found themselves in. She hadn’t yet been beaten into submission with the knowledge that there was no leaving. Anything that Namjoon and his brothers wanted, they got. This applied to all areas of their lives both in business and in personal matters. Their chosen mates got very little say in any of it, and weddings, from what Y/N could tell, were simply an announcement to the world that they had gotten their way. They were a public claim on their partners, not that any of the boys needed a public claim. Simply the whisper of one of the big bosses having taken a partner would give the woman in question a certain level of respect and protection. No one in the organization wanted to upset the higher ups by disrespecting their wives.

The wedding made things official though. It was a legal binding that many of the boys seemed to crave. You could always leave a partner if the relationship was bad. Marriages were harder to end though. Even if any of the girls ran and managed to stay gone there would always be a legal tie to the boys that couldn’t be undone without revealing their whereabouts. It was a catch twenty two.

The final bows were soon made, and Hoseok and Iyla were announced as a married couple to everyone assembled. It was a traditionally Korean ceremony for the most part, but the plans for a reception afterwards were much more Western in origin. While it wasn’t typical, Y/N’s working theory was that Namjoon and the boys liked to show off. A reception was an excellent way to get caught up with business associates, make connections, and generally boast to the world about their chosen wife. Namjoon had chosen to do much the same thing at their own wedding.

A pang went through her heart as she stood, ready to follow the newly weds to the reception area. Her own reception had been one of the last times that she had seen Jackson alive and well, and she’d been so blind with betrayal and hurt that she hadn’t even talked to him.

It was in these thoughts that she was caught up when the first sound of a shot was heard. She had barely even had time to register it before she was being shoved to the ground, Nara clutched tightly to her chest and Namjoon’s body hovering over the both of them as a shield.

His eyes were wild as he looked at her, scanning her and their daughter for any injuries. “Are you alright?” The words came out in a rush almost as though he was panicked, but Namjoon was so very rarely panicked. He was the leader for a reason. Situations like this weren’t meant to faze him. “Is Nara alright?”

Y/N nodded, stumbling over her words as she let him know that they were both alright. They might have been a little jostled and possibly bruised from the force with which he’d taken them all to the ground, but they were for the most part alright.

“Taehyun!” Namjoon roared, calling out for her bodyguard. “Get them out of here!”

“Wait!” Y/N looked around desperately as Namjoon helped her to her feet. “Where is Iyla? Is Iyla okay?”

“Taehyun is going to take you and Nara to safety.” Namjoon assured her, brushing the hairs away from her face that had been knocked loose when he’d taken them all to the ground. “You’re going to be just fine.”

“What about Iyla?”

He quickly pressed a kiss to forehead and did the same for Nara as well before pushing her into Taehyun’s arms. “If anything happens to them, I will gut you.” Namjoon promised, his tone low and dripping with venom.

“I’ll protect them with my life, sir.”

“What about Iyla!” she cried, as Taehyun began to drag her away, his grip unyielding on her arm as he led them out.

“Keep your head low, buin.” he ordered gently. “Cover Ms. Nara’s head as well.”

Despite her protests, Y/N kept her head low as instructed, and Nara, who was by this point screaming her poor little head off, was tucked into her chest with her head shielded. Taehyun had moved from dragging her by the arm to ushering her forward with his own body half covering hers as they moved. When Kim Namjoon had given the order to protect his family at all costs. He had meant it, even if it came at the price of bodily harm to Taehyun.

Part of Y/N was selfishly grateful for Taehyun’s protection. There were bullets flying across the venue, both from BTS and whoever had decided to crash the event. People were running in every direction, and screams filled the air as everyone tried to find cover.

Y/N tried not to look at the carnage of what had once been a beautiful venue as they went past. Her focus had to be on her baby and getting her to safety. She’d get Iyla too if she could, but she didn’t think that Taehyun would let her go searching, and her first priority had to be Nara. Nara had to get out of this mess before she could truly worry about anyone else.

It wasn’t the first shoot out she’d been in. Marcus hadn’t always been careful about where he brought her and when. Her safety had never been a primary concern for him. She’d taken precautions after that not to accompany Marcus to any parties she deemed particularly sketchy. Her second shootout had been over a year ago when she’d been running for her life in an attempt to escape the estate, her first escape attempt. They hadn’t been aiming for her though. That had been made abundantly clear. So she wasn’t a stranger to shoot outs, she’d just never been in the middle of one before.

“Where are we even going?” Y/N asked, her words coming out as more of a pant.

“To the cars, buin.” Taehyung answered, voice low and not nearly as out of breath as her own was. “Sajangnim ordered me to get you to safety. Once we get to the cars, I’ll see you and Ms. Nar-”

The first thing that Y/N registered was the stinging pain in her arm, almost like a bad carpet burn. She’d had many of those as a child when she and Iyla hadn’t been careful in their playing, and she’d tripped and gone skidding across the floor in their childhood home.

The next thing she registered was Taehyun’s voice had gone abruptly and completely silent, his sentence left unfinished. She didn’t have time to question this change as his form which had been a shelter from the maelstrom around them became a dead weight dragging her and Nara to the ground once more.

Y/N cursed under her breath, checking to see if Nara was okay before glancing over at Taehyun to check and see if he was okay and promptly wishing she hadn’t, her stomach turning.

A pool of deep red was seeping towards her with nauseating speed from the figure next to her. For the most part, he looked as though he’d just tripped much the same as she had. It was once you looked past the shoulders that the damage became apparent. There wasn’t much left of Taehyun after that point to recognize as Taehyun any more. The bullet had torn straight through his skull, destroying all of his recognizable features.

Y/N choked back a sob, scrambling back in an attempt to get away from the carnage though she quickly found herself ducking down to avoid a shot going off far too close for comfort.

Nara continued to scream in her arms, her little wails cutting through the air and making the both of them an all too obvious target for anyone who was looking to get revenge on Namjoon.

“It’s okay, baby.” she shushed, gently bouncing Nara in her arms. “Momma’s going to get us out of here.”

Y/N placed a quick kiss to the top of her baby’s head and began to crawl back over to Taehyun’s body.

He was one of Namjoon’s men. He had to have some sort of weapon on him. Y/N highly doubted that any of Namjoon’s men went anywhere unarmed, at least not foot soldiers like Taehyun had been.

With some rummaging, Y/N was able to find a gun stashed in a shoulder harness. It was a little bigger than anything that Y/N had shot before, but it would have to do given the circumstances, and Y/N wasn’t about to turn away anything that could help keep her and Nara safe. She wasn’t entirely sure how she was going to shoot and hold Nara, but she had something on hand to protect them if worse came to worse, and that made the situation marginally better.

Y/N got up, careful to keep her body as low to the ground as she could as she moved through the carnage. Keep low and move quickly, that was the only thought in her head as she picked her way out of the wedding hall. She couldn’t get to the cars. It wasn’t safe. She didn’t know who was out there and who they worked for. She didn’t know who half of Namjoon’s men were, and she didn’t doubt that the ones she did know were preoccupied with keeping their own wives safe as well as putting an end to the chaos that had ruined the wedding. If she asked for help, she was as likely to ask someone who was responsible for the chaos as she was to pick someone who worked for Namjoon. Along with those two factions were also visiting families and business acquaintances, and there was no telling who of those would help her if she asked and who would slit her throat given the opportunity. She was on her own.

Once she was out of the main hall, there was more room too maneuver and more options of where to go.

Frantically, she looked around, trying to find somewhere to go. What she needed was a place to hide, somewhere secluded and somewhere where she could hopefully form a barricade to keep others from getting in. She found her answer in the form of a supply closet tucked away from the main hall.

Briskly, Y/N made her way towards the door, keeping a careful eye on her surroundings as she did.

“Y/N!” an achingly familiar voice called causing her head to snap in the direction it had come from. Mark was rushing towards her, looking disheveled in his suit as he sprinted across the hall foyer. “Y/N, are you alright?” He rushed to ask, quickly scanning her for any injuries. “Is Nara alright?”

“What are you doing here?” She asked, out of breath as she took in the sight of him.

“We have to go.” He urged, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the exit. “They’re going to be looking for you soon.”

“How are you here?”

He smiled, the expression rakish and exasperated at the same time. “I promise to explain everything later, but we have to hurry right now.”

“Where’s Iyla? Did you get Iyla out?” She asked, scanning the room for any sign of her sister as Mark pulled her towards the exit.

“Iyla?” He questioned, brow furrowed. “I don’t have Iyla. We barely had time to get you out. This whole operation has been a mess.”

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks, his words playing through her mind. “This was you? You did this?” She asked, hoping against hope that it was a lie. “You shot at my baby sister? You shot at my baby?”

“Y/N, we don’t have time for this right now.” He tried to tug her forward again, but she wouldn’t go. “Y/N, please.”

She wanted to believe that Mark wouldn’t put Nara or Iyla in danger for some hair-brained scheme, but looking at him now, how frantic he seemed- how desperate to get her out of there, she knew that he had. “How could you?”

“Y/N, we have to go.”

Shots went off around them as she remained immobile, Mark pleading with her to keep going, to leave with him, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t bring herself to leave with him knowing what would happen to Iyla if she left her behind. Namjoon had made the consequences very clear if she should ever try to leave him again. If she was going to escape it had to be with Iyla.

“Let go, Mark.” she ordered, shaking her arm out of his grip. “You need to leave.”

“Y/N, you can’t be serious.” Mark cursed under his breath, pushing them both to the floor as someone fired a gun in their direction. “We have to go now!”

Y/N pushed herself and Nara up from the floor, aiming the gun shakily at Mark as she did, tears pooling in her eyes.

He stared at her incredulously. “Y/N, be reasonable. We won’t get this chance again. Lee won’t agree to help me again.”

“Go.” she ordered, her voice just as tremulous as the rest of her.

“Y/N…”

“I swear to God, Mark, I will shoot you if you don’t leave.”

“You can’t stay with him.”

She shook her head, the tears starting to fall. “I can’t leave knowing what he’ll do to my sister if I do.”

“We’ll get her out another time.” He pleaded, standing up as she rose as well, Nara clutched tight to her chest, her little face red as she shook with little hiccuping sobs. “We have to go now.”

“You have to leave before he catches you.” She kept the gun trained at his chest. “He won’t let you go a second time.” Mark didn’t move. “You have jeopardized everything.” she hissed, the possibilities running rampant through her mind. Namjoon would not be kind if he found Mark here, and considering his actions, she wasn’t feeling too charitable towards him herself.

“Y/N, I’m trying to help you.”

“You shot at my daughter! You shot at my baby sister!” Her eyes scanned his features looking for a shred of remorse. She found none.

“You need to leave.” she hissed, but Mark didn’t move. “Leave!” she screamed.

He still didn’t move. Y/N lowered the gun, aiming at his foot as she fired, and Mark jumped back, letting loose a string of expletives as he did.

“I don’t want to shoot you, Mark,” she began, raising the gun to his chest once more. “but I will if I have to.”

He took a step forward, reaching for her, and Y/N was quick to aim a shot at his leg. The bullet grazed his calf, missing its mark. She was no good at aiming with only one hand, and it didn’t help that she was shaking like a leaf.

“Go!” she urged. “Go before he finds out this was you.”

Without a backwards glance at him, Y/N turned on her heel and took off into the foyer. It was almost as chaotic in entry now as the main hall had been, the fighting spilling out as people ran. her aim was to get to the supply closet she had seen earlier. It wouldn’t be much for cover, but it would be something so long as she was lucky enough to make it there without getting herself shot in the process.

With some difficulty, Y/N was able to make it to the closet. The door had mercifully been left unlocked, giving her access to the small room. It had just enough space for her to crouch on the floor with Nara half hidden behind some packages of toilet paper and paper towels. It wasn’t much, but she was more than grateful for it.

The supply closet only had one entrance for her to guard. If anyone tried to open the door, she had a direct line of sight and therefore fire to defend herself and Nara.

Hiding in the dark room did nothing to settle her frayed nerves. Every sound coming from outside her sanctuary set her on edge though Nara had thankfully settled down. As much as she loved her child, having her screaming while they were attempting to hide would have been counterproductive, and the sound would have worn on her already ragged nerves.

She didn’t know how long they stayed there crouched in the dark. It could have been hours or it could have been minutes. She had no way of telling the time, and her own anxiety made her an unreliable judge of exactly how long they’d been there, but it felt like an eternity.

Even when the noise from outside had died down, Y/N refused to leave her hiding place. She had no way of knowing who had come out on top of the chaos outside, and without that knowledge she was not willing to put herself or Nara in any more danger than necessary.

Her legs ached from her cramped position as did her arms from holding Nara for so long, but she stayed still, waiting for a sign that it was safe to leave, her mind reeling from the events of the day. Her grip remained tight on the gun she’d swiped off Taehyun’s body ready to shoot should someone try to open the door even if her hands were shaking. She’d already shot at someone today, and she didn’t particularly want to shoot at anyone else, but she would if she had to.

Part of her couldn’t believe that she’d shot at Mark. She couldn’t believe that she’d let the opportunity to escape pass her by. She could have taken Nara and ran. She could have had a shot at freedom, but she hadn’t taken it. She’d made a choice that she had never even considered as a real possibility. She’d chosen to stay with Namjoon of her own volition.

Of course there were other factors. She knew what Namjoon would do to Iyla if she’d chosen to go. She also knew that Namjoon never would have stopped searching for her if she’d managed to slip away, and that was a big if. She doubted they would have gotten very far before Namjoon would have found them. Taking their daughter and running, while it sounded nice in theory, would have unleashed an almost unholy fury within her husband. He was already slightly insane when it came to her. She could only imagine the lengths he would go to to get Nara back if she were ever to go missing and the consequences she would face if she had a hand in it.

Y/N was shaken out of her thoughts as the door to her sanctuary was ripped open. Without even thinking, she lifted the gun and fired in the direction of the entry. Nara woke with a start at the sound, starting to cry as she did.

“Fuck!” the intruder cursed, jumping back as her bullet barely missed him, embedding itself into the door frame. “Hyung!” he called, stepping away from the door and keeping an eye on her as he shouted over his shoulder. “Hyung, I found her!”

She stared at the man in the doorway, heart racing and her hands shaking so much that she was afraid she would drop the gun.

She didn’t have a chance to fire at him again as the man in the doorway was unceremoniously shoved aside to reveal a new figure.

She fired again, just barely missing him and embedding a bullet into the other side of the door frame eliciting another stream of curses from both men standing at the door.

Before she could try to steady her hand enough to fire again, the weapon was ripped from her hand and tossed out of the small space.

“No!” she screamed, kicking at the man trying to drag her and Nara out of their sanctuary.

“Jagi! Jagiya, it’s me!” her assailant cooed, wrapping a hand around her wrist to keep her blows from landing. “It’s me.” he said again, keeping his voice low and even. “You’re safe now. You’re both safe.”

Slowly Y/N began to register who was in the closet with her. “Namjoon?”

“It’s me, jagi. It’s me.” He hushed, smoothing away the mess her hair had become during the chaos of the day. “It’s me.”

Namjoon was unceremoniously knocked back as Y/N threw herself into his arms, her free arm wrapped tightly around his neck as she clung to him, sobs wracking her frame as the stress of the whole situation came crashing down on her with the reassurance that they was safe and keeping Nara from harm was no longer her responsibility alone. No one was going to hurt them. Namjoon would make sure of that.

Namjoon wrapped his arms tightly around her, careful not to crush Nara between them as he held them both.

“You’re alright, jagiya. You did so well. You’re safe now.” he murmured into her hair. “It’s all okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” she shuddered against him, her whole body shaking as the adrenaline left her system. “Jungkook, have them bring the car around.”

“On it, hyung.” Jungkook quickly scampered away leaving the couple in peace.

“Okay, jagi.” Namjoon began, gently trying to shift Y/N away from him slightly, but she clung on, gripping the back of his suit jacket. “I’m not going anywhere.” He reassured her, gently stroking a hand down her back. “I’m just going to take Nara and hand her to Soobin. He’s going to take her to the car while I take you there. Okay, jagiya?” Y/N didn’t move, clutching Nara closer as the infant continued to cry. “You did so good, jagi. You did so good, but you don’t have to hold on anymore. I’ve got you.” Y/N choked back sob. “I’ve got you.”

Y/N slowly released her grip, slipping back and giving Namjoon room to take Nara from her arms. The little one was still crying, pathetic hiccuping sobs that tugged at Namjoon’s heart strings.

With a quick kiss to Nara’s forehead, he stood up, passing her over to Soobin who was waiting to take her to the car.

“I’m going to pick you up now, jagi.” he explained, moving slowly as he stooped to scoop Y/N up from the ground. She went willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck and tucking her face into his shoulder as he strode through the wrecked venue towards where Jungkook had the car waiting. “Rest, jagi. I’ve got you.” 

part 28

[wtfuglydevil]

i'll never show him the pain i'm in. these wounds are for me to lick in the quiet of my solitude. he doesn't need to know what i do to my pretty skin

[sweetwolfcupcake]

The Taste of Deceit( Hyung line Part One)

Request

Yandere Masterlist

Warnings: Violence, Dark Characters with Darker Intentions. And the plot would only get darker from here. Disturbing imagery, allusions, blood.

Word Count: 14k+ (Yes, I lost myself in the flow)

(GIF credits to the owner. I do not own them)

Kindly excuse the typos and errors

*****

The night was young and the stars were restless.

The night was young and the club was booming.

The night was young…

yet it felt like the darkest hour when his eyes met hers. 

(Y/N) worked as a bartender at an elite bar in the city- sort-after, high-end, but oddly lowkey. It was subtle, but an experienced pair of eyes would point out the oddities with ease.

As he sauntered towards her section, she busied herself with arranging the glasses and the mixers.

She had sworn to herself that she would stay out of trouble, and the broad-shouldered man with lips that seemed to be the carrier of kisses from paradise looked nothing less than trouble- big, deep trouble. 

“What specials do we have tonight?”

(YN) almost flinched at his voice, but her actions remained smooth as ever as she arranged the glasses. She managed to put up a smile though

“Cosmopolitan, French 75 and Paloma.”

“Cosmopolitan with olives please.” 

Even his voice was honey-like. But it held an unusual edge to it– some rare kind of honey- light but the right amount of sweet.

“I haven’t seen you before.” 

He stated as a matter of fact.

“I joined a few months ago,” she replied 

“I visited here last week.”

“I used to work the morning shift, it’s my first day in the evening shift.” she replied softly while handing him his drink.”

He smiled as he sipped from his drink but his eyes never left hers.

“Hope it’s not too overwhelming for you?”

“A little.” she admitted sheepishly “But my colleagues have been incredibly helpful, I think I will be settled soon.”

He hummed before finishing off his drink with a swig “I am Jin,” he offered his hand for a shake. 

With a somewhat hesitant smile, she took it– his hold was firm but his hands felt warm and smooth, just like his eyes.

The night was young and the stars were restless.

The night was young and the club was booming.

The night was young, yet when he smiled, 

it felt like slow electricity pulsing through the air

Jin– Kim Seokjin.

(Y/N) noted. The description that she was provided did no justice to what she was experiencing at the moment– his aura, his appearance, everything hit her at once.

The night was still young

And it was a long way ahead.

But officer (Y/N) (L/N) was determined.

“Liya. My name is Liya Grace.” she introduced herself.

The night was young

And she had taken the first step

—------------

Kim Seokjin was many things, Liya came to know that with her two years spent with him. He was a perfect gentleman, and he remembered exactly how many teaspoons of sugar she liked in her coffee and he oddly remembered the days that were otherwise insignificant to Officer (Y/N)- the person behind the mask of sweet and charming Liya Grace.

Little things mattered to Kim Seokjin, (Y/N) had realised– when Liya would cook dinner for him and wait up to reheat it even if her eyes would be droopy. When she would remember what tie he liked on certain days. When she would help him with fixing his tie and cuff links. Or when she would bring him his coffee to his home office every two hours.

One might misunderstand those as his expectation at first glance, but no– he never expected or assumed that he was not of the kind.

But the little gestures of care and devotion made him happy. It assured him that his partner was just as devoted to him as he was.

And was he a sincere lover– to the extent that (Y/N) felt a prick of guilt every time she replied to his soft, quiet declarations of love.

Jin was a lover straight out of a woman’s daydreams. 

One would never believe how the hands that touched her so delicately were the ones that pushed his enemies to their dooms.

But (Y/N) knew. She knew because she had witnessed him strangle men twice his size with ease– it was like buying bread to him- mundane business.

His eyes would be chillingly nonchalant and they were the windows for the sinister beast in him to peek through.

But only (Y/N) knew of this side of him– undercover officer (L/N)(Y/N) who was quick and quiet and never even breathed loud but took all the pictures right, and never forgot to set bugs in his office. Officer (Y/N) was subtle and clever, after all.

Liya Grace, however, was naive and oblivious, believing in whatever her beloved boyfriend fed her. He owned chains of hotels, exclusive nightclubs and restaurants. What was odd with that? Some red wine sprinkled on his white shirt? Happens! Why would not she believe him?

That was not technically a lie. Jin did own all of them. But they were the surface, the strong shields protecting his underground illegal weapon dealings– his real business.

It would have been so easy to fool any ordinary civilian, but (Y/N) was no ordinary civilian. 

“You’re late. Again.” 

“I’m sorry Jagi, you know well that I am– it’s those old investors, always looking for loopholes in my projects.”

Potential buyers

(Y/N) corrected him mentally  as she scoffed and turned away pretending to be upset 

“Liya–love, you can’t be angry at me now, it's only–uh– a bit late…” he trailed off as he glanced at his limited edition watch.

“It’s two in the morning Jin.” she huffed while reheating his dinner 

“Hmm, pretty late, but you are still awake sweetheart.”

“Yes”

Just getting some confidential documents.

“I wanted to talk.”

“Everything alright Jagi?” he sounded concerned but her smile soothed his frown

“Just considering visiting my parents. Haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Why? I mean is everything okay there?”

“Oh no, I just miss them.”

There was another thing (Y/N) had noticed about Kim Seokjin. He liked to keep her for himself.

He was a possessive man, more so emotionally than physically. It was normal for lovers to be possessive, but his sense of possession extended a bit too far.

And it made (Y/N) squirm sometimes– she could swear it was just her being uncomfortable, but deep down, she knew that there was a sinister edge to his love and it made an eerie anticipation bloom in her heart.

“Why not we go to meet them this weekend? You can finally introduce me to them then?”

“Oh Jin, no need of that, you already have a tight schedule.”

There was no way that she could let all her hard work go down the drain.

“But Liya, I have to meet them someday.”

“Sure Jin, I want you to meet them too, but I want to see how they would take the news of me already living with my boyfriend– they have always been a bit protective of me and I want things to go smoothly so bad...Let me set the ground first. Hm?”

She managed to muster up her best puppy eyes and Jin finally relented and nodded with a sigh. He was in a hurry to put a ring on her finger, so eager in fact that she already had a promise ring occupying her finger.

“When do you plan to go then?”

“Tomorrow?”

Jin smiled and nodded “Just don’t stay away from me long, okay?” 

—------

“Liya! I have cooked your favourites.” 

Her father greeted her on the porch as soon as she arrived.

“Dad I missed you!”

Her father smiled and pulled her in for a hug.

“You have the pigeon feed?” he whispered into her ears without a single muscle faltering.

She hummed, still smiling.

There could be no chance taken. It was Kim Seokjin after all, and underestimating him would be foolishness. The department knew that Kim Seokjin had eyes everywhere and one slip-up could cost them not only all their hard work but also their lives.

“Hurry up, your Mom is setting the table.” he ushered her in as they played the perfect father and daughter for the hidden hawks.

—----

“Here.” (Y/N) handed them a Pendrive. It was the one that contained recordings of his office, some pictures of classified documents and some codes

“Excellent Officer.” her ‘mother’ hummed as she examined the item.

“Now that the pigeons will be feeding, let us have dinner too.” her ‘father’ quipped in– finally at ease now that the documents were in their hands.

—------

(Y/N) had excused herself back to her room. It was cosy yet oddly familiar– detailed to perfection. A typical room that screamed  ‘I spent my teenage years here’. (Y/N) felt exhausted. Not only because she had been putting up a facade for so long but also because the ring on her finger sat heavily– mocking her as it gleamed under the nightlight. But most of all, it was the booming questions in her mind, screaming at her for answers.

She dug into her purse to retrieve a Pendrive. Another Pendrive that held the most crucial information, the deepest vulnerabilities in Kim Jin’s empire, in his security system. The Pendrive contained information that could easily lead to his encounter– no more pieces of evidence required.

She gulped, fiddling with the tiny device. She had always known what she wanted, what she was doing. But not this time.

What was she doing?

Why couldn’t she—why did not she submit the most important Pendrive to her superiors?

It would take them no time to bring Kim Seokjin and his empire of illegal weapons into ashes and yet….

“What’s wrong with me?” she huffed out breathlessly.

Finding no convincing answer, she settled for going to bed. Maybe a bit of rest would do? She had been pretending for so long, acting as the perfect, oblivious little girlfriend to a man so subtly dark, it had taken a toll on her mentally and emotionally.

—----

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip drip drip dripdripdripdripdrip

.

.

.

Gurgrlegurlegurlegurglegurglegurgurgurgle—

“Huh?”

It was disorienting to wake up to the sound of an open tap. Without much thought, she stepped into the bathroom, cringing at the wet sensation. It was tap left open and the basin was overflowing. Turning the tap off, she waited for the water to settle down. 

The drain was blocked.

She did not remember blocking it. She had not even stepped into the bathroom.

She pulled out the lid, unlocking the drain as thoughts began to flood in. It was an in-built instinct within her. She never dismissed anything that even felt remotely off.

And at the moment she felt like something was very, very strange.

The sound of splashing and gurgling of water felt louder than it actually was. The silence was no longer blank, or even remotely cosy. It was instead eerie. 

Something just did not feel right.

Rushing to the closet, she searched for any weapons that they have provided her in the room. She let go of the breath that she had been holding as she felt a gun kept between a bundle of empty boxes. 

Fishing it out, she checked if it was loaded before pocketing the pen drive and slipping out of the room as quietly as possible. It was two o'clock in the morning, and while the silence was expected, this silence felt like holding one’s breath– it was filled with anticipation.

Making her way down the carpeted stair, she remained glued to the wall while her finger wrapped around the trigger. She gulped silently as her foot reached the bottom of the stairs. The door seemed locked, the kitchen was empty—

The backdoor!

Carefully gliding around along the walls, she reached the bedroom near the backdoor. The safety of her colleagues mattered the most to her at the moment. 

Much to her relief, she saw them asleep on the bed. Noislesslyy shutting the door, she made her way to the backdoor. It  appeared perfectly—

No.

It was unlocked. 

One twist of the doorknob gave away the fragility of their safety. Her ears tried to pick up any noise behind or around her while her eyes searched for her other colleagues roaming around in disguise. The house, past the lawn, was supposed to be occupied by her colleagues too. She quickly searched for the torchlight she knew was kept there. Gripping it with a tinge of desperation, she blinked it at the house window.

No response.

She tried again. They were supposed to have their eyes on this house for the whole damn night!

No response.

Feeling the panic beginning to build, she took a deep breath in and out. She had been spying on one of the country's biggest underworld figures, there had been people she had taken care of before.

Everything would be under control.

She tried to soothe herself as she made her way back to the bedroom, leaving the door unlocked. If something went wrong, the backdoor would be their safe exit.

As soon as she stepped into the bedroom, she reached out for them, fingers almost twitching to shoot anyone other than her colleagues.

“Sir, wake up.” she whispered as quietly as possible. Not getting a response, she tapped on his covers “Sir, Ma’am please—”

She felt cold at the sensation of the warmth she was familiar with–--warm and wet. Her throat closed up as she felt around the covers. It was all damp and warm inside but her colleagues were still and cold. 

She yanked her hand out with a shaky gasp, only to be further horrid at the sight of her tainted hands in the darkness of the room— she could see it clearly–even under the street light. 

There was a faint noise of something shifting that had her pointing her gun at the darkest corner of the room. Her heart thumped in fear and anticipation as she pointed her gun at the darkness.

It was at that moment when her anticipation came to a  heavy halt— Jin stepped out of the dark corner, taking up the space near the window instead. The streetlight and moon rays falling on his form gave him an eerie illumination.

“Why wait now?… Here I am. Pull the trigger.” 

His inaction was far more chilling than his acts of violence. He was just standing still– and nonchalant and yet, the darkness in his eyes was far deeper than the dark corner he emerged from.

“Is it not what you were sent for, after all?” he drawled, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Now you even have a reason.” 

his eyes flickered to the bed momentarily before settling back on her as he tilted his head slightly

 “What’s the matter Officer (Y/N)(L/N), pull the trigger.” the amusement was clear in his tone.

She would not pull the trigger, even if it was the right thing to do, she would never do that. 

And Kim Seokjin had realised it before her. 

She hid away the pen drive, her hands shook as she pointed her gun at him and her fingers froze at the mere thought of shooting him. 

She shook her head, trying to push back her tears as the realisation began to dawn upon her, like a nightmare merging into reality.

“E-even if I tell you why, you would not believe me.” she breathed out.

It was pathetic. How would he believe her if she told him that she had just realised that she was in love with him? For real.

Why would he believe that even?

The corner of Jin’s lips lifted up slightly at her words.

“Oh Jagi, I know you inside out…” he trailed away as he sauntered towards her.

His movements reminded her of the first time she had met him. Two years ago.

Today was the day– the day they first met.

She stepped back, half in shock, half in caution, her hands lowered far before she had realised.

“Why did you keep the other pen drive to yourself? You had two of them.” 

He knew, he always knew.

“How long?”

Jin’s lips tugged up with smugness.

“The moment our eyes met I knew that you did not belong there.”

She took in a sharp breath.

“Assuming that I had never known of you– confidence.” he continued to take predatory steps towards her. 

She truly felt like a cornered prey– so small and helpless. His towering form seemed to have engulfed the whole room- and he, her whole existence. She flinched internally when her back touched the wall. 

“But assuming that my sources would never know about you– overconfidence.” he smiled as he reached her. The kind of smile that made her feel cold

There was no way out.

“If you plan to kill me, just get over with it now.” the words felt foreign on her tongue, but she meant them.

“Oh Jagi…” he drawled as if sharpening his sword “ I only intend to teach you a sweet, sweet lesson…I do love you after all.” she forced down a whimper as he leaned closer to her, his lips touching her earlobes

 “After all, you love me too, and you shall scream that to the world tonight”

****

Min Yoongi was many things.

He was subtle, he was lowkey, and yet he was powerful, he bathed in money and influence and guess what– he was a well-known face on the top magazines, billboards and newspapers.

He was one of the leading industrialists after all.

To the world.

Behind closed doors ran the chaos and spills of the underworld– white power, red ink and sharp edges.

Min Yoongi was many things, but he was not always very patient– especially during crucial interrogations. His business was vast and deep. And to run such a vast business empire– one he had built himself, he needed money– a flood of it.

 People looked up to him as an inspirational figure– the ideal rags-to-riches man. But to build such an empire by the age of thirty-two, one needed something extra, and Yoongi had nothing– nothing other than a hawk’s eyes and a razor mind. So he used them instead and created a whole ring of underground business. The profit in the market required heavy investments and it came not only from big investors, it was pumped from the underground.

Who would suspect that the man making gaping charities, arranging free scholarships and educating millions of children would be the one running a whole underground business?

The police, who else?

It was an open secret among the top officers. They knew what went on behind closed doors and dark basements in his posh offices and luxurious hotels. Too bad, Min Yoongi was always ten steps ahead.

It had turned into a cat-and-mouse game, they would hunt for evidence, a loophole and Yoongi would hunt for the one digging those holes.

The man’s head was pulled out of the cold water. He coughed and wheezed, struggling to breathe through the remaining water dripping down along with blood.

Yoongi sighed. Twenty minutes– twenty fucking minutes and no information regarding the infiltrator. Though it was no new thing, it was a matter of increasing concern because he had not been able to get hold of the mouse yet. 

The man being interrogated was one too, but Yoongi knew that he was not the spy he should be concerned with.

“Here’s how this is going to be young man…” he began with a cigarette clasped between his lips. He paused briefly to light it up. “You tell me who has been collecting information about my organisation and I give you an easy death.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicked up, finding the dilated pupils of the man, blood and saliva running down his busted lips. He spat out two of his bloody teeth into the water and coughed. He gasped again as one of Yoongi’s men took hold of his hair, ready to dunk his head into the murky water again.

Yoongi rose his palm this time, halting his men’s actions. Pulling the cigarette away, he blew out smoke into the air, momentarily blurring his face “Let me rephrase it..If you do not reveal your partner, I will make sure that you continue to breathe.”

 Nearing him, Yoongi leaned closer, whispering in his ear 

“Besides, your sister would make up for the loss of our money for our clients. Now, that would be perfect, don’t you think?”

Yoongi smirked as the man clenched his jaw and shuddered. He gripped his shoulder and squeezed the bruise hard, making the man scream.

“Think about it, hero– your charity might cost you your sister’s life. She just entered college, didn’t she? Tsk tch tch, she must have so many dreams…” he threatened with a voice dripping with mock concern while his eyes held a promise of acting through his words.

The man shut his eyes, gritting his teeth before looking dead into Yoongi’s eyes

“Raven”

Was all he said before pushing out a tiny bottle from his tied hands, it had been there between his palms. It happened within the span of seconds, one moment the man was there, and the next, he shoved the bottle in his mouth before dropping dead.

Cyanide.

“Where were your eyes?” Yoongi gritted out as he looked at his men with fury “Where.the.fuck were you looking when he had this in his fucking palms?”

His men trembled but said nothing, only hanging their heads in shame. Min Yoongi with raised voice was a threat, but he with a cold, low voice with gritting teeth was a warning that barely stood between one’s life and his gun.

Surely, the police officer's body was not the only one which would be laying there.

But to their utter surprise, their boss’ fingers, instead of going for his gun, went to his head, running through his long hair.

He took a few puffs from his cigarette before dropping it on the wet floor and viciously crushing it with his heavy shoes.

He sighed, closing his eyes, the thin cut running through his face could be seen in its complete glory with his eyes closed– it began from his forehead and sliced straight through his left eyebrow, and eyelid, ending on his upper cheek, parallel to his nose. It was faded but only added to the grim aura he carried.

“Find out who is Raven. And don’t be lousy fucky this time.”

That was all he said before marching out of the place.

Min Yoongi was many things but he was not a man to step back from his words, even if it was something he had promised himself.

No blood on his hands on her birthday. 

—---

The front light of the shop flickered before dimming considerably while Yoongi’s car pulled up in front of the flower shop. It was decent, but in Yoongi’s mind, needed a ton of renovation. It was already past midnight and his only regret was that he could not be there to wish her on the strike of twelve.

The door sign showed ‘closed’ but he rang the bell anyway, his heart thumping on hearing the muffled sound of her ascending the stairs.

His lips curved into a smile as soon as the door opened.

“You came? I thought you were busy.”

“And I thought I told you to wait for me at my place. Yet I find you here, sleeping with just a single lock at the main door.” he commented as he walked inside. 

The flower shop was on the ground floor, and the floor above was where she lived. It would seem odd, special in a way– a business tycoon and a florist. But it would turn bizarre at the revelation of his true identity. A man marred with the underground murk and a sweet florist, oblivious to the monster she was letting in almost every night at her home.

“I baked some cookies.”

“Mhm? I got you some fried chicken with cheese and beer.” her eyes lit up at that and she smiled, raining heavens on his heart.

“Oh, Yoongi, you always know what I want!”

 Her voice dripped with delight as she made her way upstairs, while he locked the door, making eye contact with his men stationed just opposite the flower shop, under the guise of some construction workers.

He sighed in delight as her delicate floral fragrance engulfed him while he followed her upstairs.

“Wait for me in the bedroom, I will bring the food. And–what is this? A cake? You even brought me a cake? Oh Yoongi, you did not need to.”

He shook his head and smiled, taking her hands into his.

 “But I wanted to.” 

His hand slid to her lower back and the other hand guided her hand to his shoulder as they began to slow dance in the kitchen, the food long forgotten at the kitchen counter. 

Fishing out his phone, he clicked to play a retro romantic track– slow, lovely and oh-so poetic. He smiled at her, stealing a fleeting kiss on her forehead as they continued to move, like a slow-burning flame that would ignite one’s soul.

“Happy Birthday my love.” he whispered ever so tenderly as she looked up with glistening eyes. 

She tucked her head on his chest, relishing the moment in silence.

—---- 

One of the best leisure activities had to be sitting on the bed and enjoying one’s favourite meal along with one’s favourite person, Yoongi realised that while placing another piece of fried chicken on her plate. She smiled at him, a smudge of ketchup on her lower lip and it made her all the more adorable to her. All he wanted was to protect her, love her and be loved by her.

He scrunched his nose lightly while wiping the ketchup with his thumb while she munched on the chicken with stuffed cheeks.

Min Yoongi was in love with her, he knew it, she knew it too and he hoped that she would trust him too, enough to believe in his love through thick and thin.

“Gina…” he began as he took her hands in his, not minding the crumbles and oil “Do you trust me?”

She blinked “Yoongi, where is this coming from?”

“Just tell me, do you trust me to never hurt you? To love and protect you with my life?”

She frowned before nodding, but that was not enough for him.

“I need words Gina, do you trust me, love?”

“Yes Yoongi…” her voice shook but there was a crack of uncertainty. 

He would admit that it did hurt him, but he also knew that this was nothing beyond normal human behaviour– blind trust was a luxury and he would taste that luxury soon, he only had to be patient. He knew that her trust would falter with his next words, but he needed to do what was required.

Taking a deep breath, he grasped her hands firmer “Gina…I love you, and I did not wish to lose you…so I hid something from you, but now I must come clean for the sake of our love.” licking his lips, he continued “Gina, you know me as the world does, a philanthropist business tycoon, one with multiple companies under his banner, international projects, the rags-to-riches guy and what not…But the truth is beyond that, darker than that.”

Her frown deepened at that “What do you mean?” 

Yoongi sighed and continued “I have an underworld business, Gina, I have my hands dipped in everything murky you can possibly imagine.”

He felt her stiffening at his words and as she attempted to pull away from his hold, his fear began to take the shape of reality. With each attempt to pull her hands away, his hold coiled tighter like a hungry snake. His jaws ticked at her futile attempts

“You promised to trust me, didn’t you?” his hand crept to her forearm 

“Y-Yoongi…”

“I love you, I love you so much Gina, don’t try to take that away from me.” hissed, turning desperate “I love you too much to let you go. I have everything prepared for you love, you will love the mansion, it has a vast garden and even a patch of woods, there are flowers, beautiful flowers, and the room I have prepared for you is your dream room, Love. We shall move to our room soon after the wedding.”

“Wedding?” she whispered out incredulously as if it were the most bizarre thing to hear from him. 

“Of course Jagi, are we not going to marry soon? I love you Gina and I thought this would be a perfect time to come out clean. I want to keep you safe love, pack up hmm? I have had the mansion all readied.”

“No” she whispered, making Yoongi pause

“No?”

He scowled, tightening his hold to a painful extent before jerking her closer to him, ignoring the whimper his actions and eyes had elicited.

“What do you mean by No?” he snarled before closing his eyes and looking away– his tongue pushed against the inner wall of his cheek to show his thinning patience as he remained unfazed by her struggle to slip away from his bruising hold. “Gina…I told you that I love you, didn’t I? I came clean to you like a good lover. Isn’t it your turn to show appreciation and fucking listen to me? You are so fucking unsafe here I cannot protect—”

He was cut off by the sound of a click that tore through the otherwise heavy silence like an arrow in a dead forest

He looked at her, hold loosening before she mouthed--

RUN!

But there was no time for that other than reaching for his gun strapped on his shin but the moment his fingers touched the gun, he felt the piecing of a bullet. Chaos ensued as a figure in black jumped down from the attic, opening the foldable ladder that dropped from the ceiling, and reaching the bed.

Yoongi felt hands forcing him down before he elbowed the assaulter. His palm was already suffering a bullet wound but his eyes never left her– his Gina, or that was the name she had used. She shook her head, tears now streaming down in full force. 

“Min Yoong, you are under arrest!”

How were there so many men in the room? Boots rang across the floor as many men in uniform stormed the room, forcing him down further. But his eyes remained on the woman sitting in front of him, nursing her bruising wrist yet looking down at him with the sorrow only a true lover could.

Her eyes widened as he smiled at her– a genuine smile that came from the realisation that she did warn him to run, that she had pain in her eyes. 

“What’s your name?” he whispered softly making her her eyes widen. “Your name…”

“Oi! You are under arrest for being involved in illegal business, you just confessed that!” 

One of the officers spat out as he snatched away the necklace she wore roughly, making her wince and Yoongi's jaws tick.

 “We have it all recorded you scum!”

 He waved it in front of him before landing a heavy punch, making Yoongi’s head whip to the side, a bruise already forming while blood trickled down the corner of his lips.

But he did not care, finding her frightened eyes once more as her hand jerked to reach him, only to be stopped midway by the officer “What’s your name?” he asked again

 “Get her out of here.” the senior officer barked before the subordinate approached, his actions and tone much gentler than his superior as he helped her get up from the bed.

But before went out, she turned to him one last time, eyes filled with emotions, while Yoongi focused on pushing his heel against the sole of his shoe– one press of the sensor and his team would be ready. He smiled at her as she disappeared from his sight.

Soon, Love…Very Soon.

—-----

The journey to the police station involved being shoved into a heavily guarded van with too many armed men.

Twenty men for one person? Even with a bullet wound?

He liked the fear. 

His eyes met with one of the amateur officers, young, naive and so fucking idealistic perhaps– a version of his in his early teens. Yoongi smirked as he watched him gulp subtly.

Good.

As soon as they reached the police station at an ungodly hour, he was shoved into an overly guarded prison, the captain watched him from outside as one would while inspecting a feral animal.

The middle-aged man held his gaze as Yoongi made himself comfortable behind the bars, sitting on the bed near the wall, his form faintly visible in the darkness.

The captain held his phone to his ear before speaking up, breaking the tense silence that felt like a bated breath

 “Mission Raven Completed,” 

He whispered out, his eyes holding Yoongi’s gaze in mockery as he cut the call and slipped his phone into his pocket

“Your game is over Min Yoongi.” 

Yoongi sat still, his feline eyes shining with amusement under the minimal light reaching his prison.

“What? Aren’t you scared? The whole world will come to know your true face in a few hours!” he snarled at him.

Yoongi knew that he had made many, many enemies along his climb to the top of the underworld rings. And this captain seemed to take things a bit too personally. But what did he know of the ‘games’ he played?

“ Captain Jiwok…” he watched in satisfaction as the smirk was wiped out from the man’s face “My game has just begun.”

Before the man could speak any further, a deafening boom shook the whole building as rubble began to fall,  he watched the building burst into bedlam, throwing his back into laughter while his eyes twinkled in delight.

****

A sunny day, the bright colours of the summer and the gentle breeze playing with the new, tender leaves and the playful petals of brightest and softest blooms. 

It would make anyone smile. But not the mistress of the Jung Estate–(L/N)(Y/N), who could only resentfully look on as the servants, maids, dogs, cats, butterflies and even insects enjoyed their freedom of embracing the outside world– all but her.

The sprawling estate encompassed a vast garden with water channels running around in symbols, hosting a range of koi fish, one more stunning than the other and a number of servant quarters that housed the staff. 

The place would look idyllic to anyone who would first set their eyes on it. But underneath the beautiful estate, laid metal doors, bloody walls and unending, dark body chutes. One might find that shocking, but not (Y/N) – to her, the Jung Estate was an extension of the master of the property– Jung Hoseok– an angel’s face and a devil’s soul. But (Y/N) doubted that he had any soul at all.

Taking her eyes off the garden, she focused on the elaborate lunch spread out for her. At least she had a choice of food, she thought with contempt as the maid served her more rice.

“Would you like dessert after lunch Ma’am?” Lia, her personal maid enquired.

“No thank you.”

“They’re all your favourite Madame.” she pressed ever so gently.

Sighing, (Y/N) nodded. Dessert might do her soured mood some good.

“I will bring them right after you are finished, Madame.” Lia beamed

(Y/N)’s lips tugged up subtly with an amused smile as she continued to eat her lunch. Hoseok, her husband always told her how much he loved her smile. And yet, he had turned the reason behind its decline. 

Jung Hoseok was probably the most feared man in the country and she had made the foolish mistake of walking right into the lion’s den one sorry evening.

—-----

“Madame, sweet buns along with mini butter croissants.” 

(Y/N) had smelled the delicious aroma before the oven-fresh delicacies came within her sight. After all, something to truly smile about, without making her cheeks ache. 

“You should have your lunch, Lia.” she offered softly, aching to be left alone, truly alone, without his people following her like some…fucking guard dogs!

Lia, the dedicated girl was obviously not at fault– she was just doing what she was paid so heftily for– taking care of the mistress of the Jung Estate.

The Mistress of Jung Estate…Ironical, really, when she could not even step out of the iron castle without his consent. And if he were to go out of the city, even the garden was out of her reach. Even his pet had more freedom than her. 

And yet…

And yet he would claim to love her the most, adore her more than anything and appreciate even the most mundane thing she would do.

Huffing as such thoughts crossed her path, she violently tore the delicate croissant into two before—

Croissants were not supposed to make any tearing sounds! Or were they?

This time, she looked closer, only to two torn pieces of the same paper peeking out of the halves of the delicacy. (Y/N) frowned as she pulled the pieces of paper out before joining them. Only to part her lips in surprise at the sight of the message written there.

A phone number!

She crumpled the pieces of paper, hiding them away in her fist before carefully peeling apart another croissant– the same number!

This had to mean something, this could not be a coincidence.

Her stomach flipped as she gulped an uncomfortable lump in her throat. 

What is this?

The question rang louder than all other thoughts in her head as she delicately folded the paper and walked up to the closet before hiding the paper in one of her shoes.

Thankfully, there were only two such croissants and the rest had only warmth and aroma stuffed inside them, so were the sweet buns, simple and delicious. The incident felt more like a dream but (Y/N) knew that it was not.

—--

“Who prepared the dessert today?” (Y/N) prayed that she sounded absolutely nonchalant as she fiddled with her food, pretending to mix the sauce with the rice.

Sitting on the terrace, she could have a wide view of the spread-out property– all lit up and quiet, except for nature’s sounds.

“Oh, did you not like it Ma’am?” it was the butler serving her this time– breakfasts and dinners were his responsibility and she had no clue why this was a rigid routine.

“No, it was delicious, that’s why I asked…”

“I am glad Madame, Lia herself prepared the dessert.”

(Y/N) kept her eyes down, afraid that her eyes would give away the surprise. Somehow, she managed a mundane “Oh, I see.” but all she did was restrain herself from frowning.

She did not even remember when she fell asleep, in his absence, sleep seemed to come easy and deep. But this time, somehow she woke up with a start in the middle of the night. It was quiet but tense and while she was alert as soon as she woke up without the usual grogginess she would feel, the goosebumps all over her skin told her that something was just not right.

Squinting her eyes, she tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness when she spotted–

“Lia?” she hissed, annoyed that the girl was there inside her bedroom and had given her a nightmare-worthy scare.

“Lia, is that you?” she felt her parched throat before recognising her rising fear— what if it was not Lia but one of Hoseok’s rivals? What if the person wanted to hurt her? The silhouette matched that of her personal maid but she had not seen the person’s face yet and—

To her slight relief, Lia revealed herself as she stepped near the bed “Madame, you are awake at this time?”

What kind of question was that?

“What are you doing in my room at two in the morning?”

Lia only smiled at her counter-question, but there was something condescending about it.

“Don’t you feel better? More refreshed than mornings?”

“Wh-what? What kind of question—”

“I assume you’ve got the number and are smart enough to hide it in a safe place?” she cut her off,

(Y/N) gulped, feeling increasingly uneasy with the situation. She was alone, vulnerable in her room with her supposedly personal maid who seemed…just off.

Lia sighed and tilted her head “Don’t worry, I'm not here to hurt you. In fact, I can help you.”

“Help me?” she could feel her voice crumble at her words.

Help her as in helping her get out of the place? But who would dare to?

“No, woman, I am not a rival’s spy or something if you are worried about that. I work for the government.”

(Y/N) gasped quietly at that. Why would the government of the nation take the pains of infiltrating Hoseok’s home to rescue a simple girl? She gulped again, feeling her mouth grow increasingly dry.

“Don’t,” Lia’s voice was quiet but strong, halting (Y/N)’s movement immediately as she reached out for the water bottle placed on the nightstand.

“I was just feeling thirsty?” she could not help but feel fear beginning to grip her in the face of the uncertain situation.

“You can drink that once we’re finished with the conversation woman. You drink that right now, you will fall asleep again.”

“What?” (Y/N) frowned while Lia rolled her eyes with a slow shake of her head 

“You are such a naive girl, no wonder you are still stuck here.” 

 She sighed before explaining

 “Don’t you feel weird? It is only the butler who serves you breakfast and dinner, prepared by him in the boss’ absence? Don’t you wonder why you feel so sleepy, even after breakfast? You sleep until noon and yet feel tired after dinner”

“So…” (Y/N) gulped, feeling her stomach beginning to flip “So, y-you are saying that the food, the water is compromised?”

“‘Compromised’? Don’t soften this up now, you know what it is, just acknowledge it.”

“He–he won’t–I mean he couldn’t have—”

Lia smiled again, the same condescending smile that rubbed the ugly fact on her face and made her stomach churn.

“You are saying that—that the food and water I consume are…drugged?”

She knew that Hoseok’s ‘love’ was toxic, but this was straight out of some nightmare-inducing psychological thriller. She let out a shuddering breath as the horrible realisation dawned upon her. It was sick, absolutely sick. 

“You see, morning and night are the only times when guards change shifts and take breaks, he could not take any chances. You are after all his most treasured possession.”

She drawled, and her words slapped the bleak reality of her marriage right on her face. Was it even a marriage? She felt like a prisoner before, now she was reduced to a precious little pet.

Weren’t you always his fucking pet?

Her subconscious mocked her as she felt tears beginning to gather.

“It took me a while to figure out what was he giving you, but today I managed to slip an antidote in your dinner. How does it feel to wake up refreshed?”

When she did not answer, Lia threw something beside her, making her flinch 

“In case you realise how deep you are in. All you need is to call.”

(Y/N)’s eyes remind of the buttoned cell phone, she did not even hear Lia leaving– she left as quietly as she came.

But she left behind a storm brewing in (Y/N)’s mind.

—-------

Despite knowing the consequences, (Y/N) tucked the phone away in some safe corner and drank the water, she was absolutely parched. Everything was too much to take. She knew that Hoseok was no saint, but this made her sick to her stomach. She feared Hoseok but now…now she was terrified of him.

The sky rumbled before her eyes found the window gigantic window of the place– big droplets of rain had begun to dot the glass. From that height, the sky seemed nearer, yet all the more distant– it was just a better, clearer sight, especially when one could leisurely watch the thunderstorm up close– clouds flashing, clashing and the skies illuminating with blinding cracks.

No one seemed to notice, or care, but her. It felt like it was only her– just like her four years old relationship– it was only her there. She was the one making the effort, she was always the one apologising, she was the one making her plans, her schedule flexible, initiating dates and she was the only fucking person in a relationship involving two.

And it took her a whole bad fight and a slap on the face to realise that. It was the worst fight the two had, and also perhaps the third major one in a span of four fucking years– so used to ‘sweeping things under the rug’ and ‘keeping the peace’, she had was, for once glad to let it all out– the bottled disappointments, suppressed anger, resentment, frustration hurt, envy, jealousy– every ugly emotion one could come up with when they had to carry the weight of a dying relationship and when she was spitting the facts on his face, he retorted with a slap that shook everything– the relationship, her perspective, her beliefs— everything shuddered and began to crumble with nothing. 

Noted, she had pulled his parents’ failed marriage in a fit of rage but reacting with violence? Was it ever okay?

Thankfully, she knew the answer. She did not even remember how she simply picked up her phone and wallet in dead silence after he stormed out of the house in tears. She had her vision blurred with unshed tears as well, but she did not let them escape her eyes, at least not until she drove back to her apartment. She had seen her first-ever serious relationship crumbling into nothing and she had no clue how to deal with that.

After days of crying herself to sleep and being on autopilot, her friends decided to intervene and drag her away to the fancy event. She had blocked him from everywhere but she was not sure if he even tried to contact her. Even in the glittering and gilded place, she could not stop thinking about him and the relationship she had dragged on for such a long time, but not romantically. She could not bring herself to do that after what had transpired that evening.

“Ma’am, a drink for you.” 

(Y/N) frowned as the bartender slid a fancy-looking shimmery drink in front of her. While her friends were busy chitchatting and flirting with people they knew, she had excused herself to the quieter part of the gigantic hall, a bar. But she had not ordered anything yet.

“But I did not order anything.”

“The gentleman bought you this.”

Not all drinks were free and the drink definitely looked like it had soaked up a fortune. Her eyes followed the bartender’s gaze and found a man she had never seen before leaning against the other end of the long island.

He looked sleek and mysterious and every last thing she wanted at the moment. While he smoked and raised an eyebrow, she smiled apologetically before shaking her head before getting off the barstool and making her way back to her friends.

She did not know what she needed at the moment, but she did know what she did not need.

As the event dragged on (Y/N) had begun to feel more uninterested. Maybe such high-class parties were more suited for her millionaire friend who had thrust the invitation card in her face. (Y/N) knew that all she wanted was to make her feel better but the event was quickly turning her eyes droopy. 

Bidding her friend goodbye with an excuse, she sighed in relief the moment she walked out of the hall, as the door closed, she was greeted with a silent hallway leading to the exit of the building.

“Hello there” the voice made her jump as she turned around, only to find the same man just a foot behind her.

“Oh, didn’t see you there.” she mustered up an easy smile as her feet remained in the direction of the exit.

The man hummed and assessed her with a ghost of a smile on his face, the tilt of his head had a few strands falling on his exposed forehead. He was an attractive man, no doubt, but she was just not interested. He seemed well above twenty-five, even past thirty perhaps.

“Did you not like the drink, Pretty?” she cringed internally at the nickname.

“I am in a hurry actually, thank you for the drink by the way.”

His lips tilted into an amused smile “Let me have the honours to drop you home, pretty.”

“I have my car.”

She had come with her friends and she had no car, but a cab would always be nearby in a posh locality.

“Oh yeah? Let me walk you to your car then.”

She tried to rack her brain for some excuse but the glint in his eyes confirmed her fears, he knew that she had no vehicle to return home and he was taking advantage of her situation. Even if he only intended to flirt, he was making her easy. 

“There you are!” the loud and buoyant voice startled her.

`

The man cornering her turned around, giving her a view of another man approaching them.

“And there I was, searching for you in that hall!” the new man beamed with a blinding smile before turning to him “Hi Juk, you’re here too.”

“Mr Jung, I did not that she is—”

“She came with me.” he declared, finding her gaze briefly before flickering back to…Juk– or whatever his name was.

She understood what he was trying to do and played along. 

“I was searching for you too!” even if her voice showed her relief, she did not care anymore.

Oddly, she felt less threatened in the smiling stranger’s presence. Juk came up with an excuse before walking back into the hall, leaving them alone. His gentle gaze fixed on her before his smile turned soft.

“Are you okay?”

“Eh yes, yes, thank you—I should get going now.” she bowed to show him her gratitude as he shook his head.

“Ah, it’s nothing, sometimes people here get pretty intense. I’m used to this.” he explained before realisation flashed in his eyes “I never saw you here before?”

“Yes, I came here with my friend.” 

“And you are leaving alone?”

“Yes, I was bored.” she slapped her hand over her lips immediately as the realisation dawned upon her. But it was too late.

Now what if he was the host?

“N-No I mean–I’m sorry—.” she was immediately in damage control mode, but he only waved his hand, laughing.

“No, no, I appreciate your honesty…I’m Hoseok by the way. Jung Hoseok.” he offered her his hand for a shake.

“(L/N)(Y/N).” she shook it with a smile.

—-----

When she opened her groggy eyes again, the room was illuminated with the sunshine filtering through the curtains fluttering. She rubbed her eyes as they began to close again.

Wait, she would never leave her window open at night?

“Good afternoon, Love!” 

Her actions paused as she rose from her bed, pushing away the comforter, only to find Hoseok standing in front of her, dressed in his casual olive t-shirt and sweats. Her eyes widened in surprise, the conversation with Lia floating back in her mind.

But he did not give her much time to think, instead, he got on the bed and pulled her for a searing kiss, never minding her morning breath or her stiffness.

“I missed you so much Jagi!” there it was, the deceiving smile that had blinded her to all the bright red flags once.

His arms engulfed her, pulling her towards his chest as he hummed in delight “You were sleeping when I returned, so I made breakfast for you myself.”

Schooling her expression and keeping her voice steady, she hugged him back “Thank you Hoseok.”

“Oh, no need to thank me, Love. I have been gone for a while, haven’t I? It must have been hard for you.” his voice dipped to a tone of regret before he pulled away and cupped her face “Being locked in here all by yourself. But you know it's for your safety, don’t you?”

Gulping, she dropped her gaze and nodded. He smiled in return before kissing her once more. “There, there, nothing to worry about anymore. You can even go to the garden unattended! But why bother about a garden when we have a whole vacation planned?”

Surprised, she looked up, earning a coo from him as he placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“Like, out of this place? This city?”

Hoseok nodded “Now, freshen up, I will serve you some breakfast. Okay?” 

 With a nod and a small smile, she made her way towards the bathroom, feeling increasingly uneasy in his presence. As soon as she was out of the bathroom, she was relieved to find no trace of her husband in the room. The bed was freshly made and crisp, everything seemed right in place, speckless. 

A vacation…

Lia’s words never left her mind, not even for a moment since she woke up. Did she want out?

Yes. Of course, she did. And she knew that deep down, Hoseok knew that too— she never asked to be here. That was why she was not even allowed to step out of the mansion in his absence.

But the real question was…

Was she safe?

She pondered as she held the phone in her grip.

****

She cursed herself as the thick rain pounded on her back while she jogged her way back home. Had she brought an umbrella, she could have avoided this situation. She hated getting wet in the rain. She hated such stormy evenings overall.

“Shit!”

She cursed out loud as she stumbled before slipping down on the ground, her one leg folding painfully in the process. Gasping out in pain and shock, she tried to steady herself.

Breathe (Y/N), keep calm, you are almost home, you can have a good sleep and—no, not a peaceful sleep maybe but you will be taken care of.

Nodding to herself, she rose from the ground and continued her way home with a limping foot while the sky rumbled unpleasantly over her. She should have slowed down before.

Her apartment was quiet when she entered it. Closing the door with a huff, she took off her now-soaked shoes but gasped when she rose after putting them away. 

There was someone in the apartment with her!

She cursed herself before hastily switching the lights on, only to fall into a fused state of relief and annoyance.

“Namjoon!” she hissed “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? And why were you just standing there like a creep?”

Namjoon chortled and folded his arms over his chest “Why? Did I scare you little bird?”

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) shook her head “I’m not a little bird Joon.”

“Oh Little bird, you are dripping.” he cooed as he made his way towards her.

If there was someone who could simultaneously get on her nerves and warm her heart, it would be Kim Namjoon, her boyfriend of six months. 

And she wondered often how come he was a college professor. At the rate he lost and broke things while managing to look like the most innocent soul with round eyes and full cheeks and–no wait, he was annoying at the moment!

“There, there.” he gently patted her with a towel and yet had the audacity to tease her in between “You look like a dunked kitten by the way.”

She simply sighed. There was no stopping him, she had realised that within a month into the relationship. He was like a child sometimes, really.

“Move, I have to get changed.” Pushing her laughing boyfriend away, she made her way to the bathroom.

“Hey kitten, I have turned on the heating, be careful not to burn yourself!” He called out from behind as she slammed the bathroom door shut.

(Y/N) had met Namjoon in the most cliché place possible– a coffee shop. One moment he was passing by her seat and the next, he was tripping on plain ground and the entire content of his ‘extra-large’ cold coffee was all over her.

Before she could even turn around with smoke leaving her ears, he was on his knees apologising profusely with repeated bows, so much that he had hit his forehead twice on the table in the frenzy and his ID was on the ground, taking a dip at the spilled, frothy cold coffee.

The rest? Looking at them, anyone could have guessed the rest. 

It was hard to believe that a man this clumsy was teaching at a reputed college. She often wondered ‘How did he survive this far?’, especially when he tried helping her in the kitchen.

He was banned from the kitchen for a reason.

When she entered the living room, Namjoon was busy cleaning the muddy footprints near the apartment entrance.

“I ordered us some chicken ramen with some snacks and beer.” Namjoon perked up as soon as he saw her enter the room

“Finally, something good to look forward to!” she beamed

“Oh, was work not good?” His smile faded with a frown of concern replacing it.

(Y/N) smiled and shook her head dismissively "Nothing, just the usual running around. We have some sillies coming in with bizarre complaints” she scoffed

“So, where else people would go if not the police?”

“Joon, there were claims of alien sightings.” She huffed, rolling her eyes as she plopped on the couch “Thanks for cleaning up though. I am so tired.” (Y/N) could not stop the wince when she tried to stretch her legs. 

People might consider that once someone joined the police force, they attain immunity against injuries and pain– the fact was, she and officers like her, were only human.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, I just slipped while jogging back home.”

“(Y/N), how many times have I asked you to not rush? It's even more dangerous during the rainy season!”

He was immediately by her side, bunching the loose gown she wore to her mid-thigh. He winced at the sight of the bruised shin and knee.

“Look what you have done to yourself now.” Namjoon chided as he gently ran his fingers through the darkening bruises.

“I’m a police officer Joon.” she scoffed, attempting to pull away, but he would have none of that 

“So? You are still human. Moreover, it has barely been a year since you joined.”

“A year Joon, a year has 365 days.”

Namjoon simply smiled and for the first time, the warmth was missing “Oh, little bird…I bet you’ve seen nothing. The world now rivals hell.” he leaned closer and placed a peck on her knee “So, be careful what you fly into.”

Although his eyes held a playful glint, they darkened under the light, ironically, they seemed to swallow the light falling on them, not reflect. It felt like she was starring at the eyes of a stranger, a man she had never seen before and—

Ring! Ring-ring!

The doorbell rang, shoving her out of the trance as she flinched– eyes darting towards the unanswered door, the smart LED mounted on the wall– anywhere but him.

Namjoon rose and walked up to the door in silence. Looking through the peephole, he unlocked the door and opened it, while she rushed to cover her legs and look decent.

It was their dinner. 

“Dinner’s here!” he turned to her with the paper bag dangling from his hold as soon as he shut the door. 

His smile was warm, the one she knew– it was her Namjoon. 

“Don’t worry, I will set it up. Why don’t you play the sitcom we were watching last time, hmm?”

She smiled as he walked towards the kitchenette. It was so usual of him– he was Namjoon, her boyfriend. Why did it feel different then?

Shaking her head, she moved to switch on the TV– she was just tired.

—-----

There was a thing about being in the police force. One came under numerous circumstances, met numerous people and remembered most of them. It was a part of the training, or maybe the experience she had over a year of joining the Police. 

The spies, the police, and the military had somewhat of a peculiar kind of instinct– in fact, they were trained to follow their instinct, trained to not hold the gaze for too long without the necessity and to never stare at the back of the head of the people they were supposed to keep an eye on.

The training, perhaps made the observation and the intuition stronger– like their subconscious would note things before their conscious mind realised.

Even after days after Namjoon’s visit, (Y/N) could not forget the moment– the brief, dreamlike moment that, even for a part of a second did make her see her boyfriend under a different light. Even if it was just for a moment, the Namjoon she knew seemed to have turned into…someone else- someone who made her…uneasy.

So, aside from the cases she already was handling along with being a part of a confidential project, she took it upon herself to research more on Namjoon– her boyfriend. He had told her that he had discarded his 'original' surname, he was just Namjoon– even his ID showed that– ‘Namjoon’. But he had been making official changes for adding 'Kim'

And that made it all the more difficult for her to dig more about him. It had not bothered her before. In fact, she had not even bothered to dig up about him, she never felt like he was hiding something or even remotely pretending. He was an unsuspecting College professor– a clumsy, endearing gentle giant who loved bonsai, flowers and everything small and cute.

Until that one night.

It is just to ease my tension. Just to ease my suspicion, it's nothing probably.

She kept telling herself as she searched through digital file after digital file without a trace of anything familiar. At one point, she even thought, why bother anyway? It might just have been the light doing its trick, or maybe her tired brain making up things.

But there was something that distinguished a person in uniform from an ordinary civilian– their reliance on their gut feeling. Even if people might find it strange, the police relied heavily on their gut feeling.

So if her gut feeling sensed something, she was trained to go with it– no matter who or what. She might be an amateur, not a speedy learner like her colleagues but she knew her job and she knew was, at the end of the day, a police officer.

—----

“The police in Busan have discovered a shipment... cocaine.”

There was an emergency meeting held as soon as the station’s in-charge received an e-mail.

“But they are suspecting that it is not the whole shipment.”

“Sir, what is the amount?” (Y/N)’s colleague Han raised the much-awaited question

Their superior’s eyes turned grim as he sighed.

This did not seem good

“48 kilograms.”

The room fell into a tense silence.

“And how do we know that it is not the whole shipment? 48kgs of cocaine is no joke.” (Y/N) spoke up this time.

“Yes, (Y/N), but the shipment was most probably for Gangnam. I had some people working for the police keeping an eye out. Those people are cunning– they evaded the Busan police– I had spoken with the station’s in-charge there and got to know that only the shipment was discovered, not the dealers.”

 He switched on the projector and the screen showed a map of major cities in the country but there were places marked. 

“You see these places? These are the places we have foiled major shipments in the past year.” He pointed at the flagged locations “But there is a worrying pattern here. These are the areas where most hotels, resorts, and other tourist destinations are. And before last year, neither these places nor such a jump in the number of drugs was detected…You know what this means, right?”

“There is a new snake in the town?” (Y/N) guessed.

Their senior nodded “Yes, most probably– you see, this person is experienced, cunning. They know what happens in the streets, they know how things work and yet we get are able to sack the major shipments, but not a single dealer…It seems deliberate.”

“Deliberate? Those cost billions Sir,” Han was right, but so was her boss.

“Hmm, but we have no idea how vast this empire is, do we? It is the underground we’re speaking of, Han, these people are powerful dangerous, cruel and cunning. You never take them as fools. That might be your last mistake.”

Han nodded at his words before he continued -

“For now, we need to increase the patrol. Patrol officers here, keep vigilance and let some officers loiter around in civil attire, we need to keep an eye out for this area, we have  quite a few tourist places here. Dismissed for now.”

With that, the sounds of screeching and pushing chairs filled the room as the officers made their way out of the room one by one. 

“Officer (Y/N), please wait, I have a discussion with you regarding the burglary case.”

“Sure sir.”

As soon as the room was empty he walked up to the door and closed it.

“Sir, the case has been–”

“Closed, I know, this is regarding the shipments.” he paused before continuing "It's a mind game (Y/N). I’m sure of it.”

“May I know the reason, Sir?”

 “This time, they have targeted Busan. It's like a flag of ownership and victory, not a missed shipment. Whatever actual shipment was headed for Gangnam, has already reached there while the police were distracted with this one. It's like a declaration– they have their hold beyond this city now.”

“But 48 kg of cocaine costs a lot Sir, and Han was right, whatever shipments we have found over the months, they cost billions.” 

“And..do we know if those belong to this new…snake?”

(Y/N) frowned at his response

“The underworld, (Y/N) is no stranger to brutality. As I mentioned before, this new player knows the streets. They’re experienced. Do you really think that they will make such an amateur mistake? Not a single dealer caught, no man caught. They are mocking us, making us run around like puppies...But now, I have a name for the snake…”

“A name?”

Her boss nodded before handing her his phone. There was a message from an unsaved number. A message with only two letters.

RM

“So–so who is this?”

“Can be anyone, a business tycoon, a philanthropist or whatever, but a looming figure in the underworld with eyes and ears everywhere. Ever since the last major drug dealer was shot dead in Dubai last year, we have been receiving anonymous alerts on such shipments.”

“So, you are suggesting that this…person has replaced the notorious Don? He was a Godfather, Sir and wasn’t his son about to take up—”

“And where is his son (Y/N)? Vanished, we have no idea where he is but this is not their pattern. We know that. Their businesses are sealed– legal or illegal, their bank accounts were frozen, properties here sealed– the family is not a threat now (Y/N). But this…” He pointed at his phone in her grip “This is. They are a clear, looming threat and it is so obvious that they fear no, nothing. It's like a game to them.”

“So, what do you want me to do?”

Her superior sighed and nodded as he took his phone back “It is not easy but I know I can trust you on this. I am forming a team, and I will update you soon about that but for now, we know that this snake knows the street well, maybe they belonged there once. Take a few days off and take a sweep of the street meanwhile. We need to have more information.”

“Sure, Sir.” she squared her shoulders

He nodded “Okay, you can go now, do not let anyone suspect anything until I inform you of the rest of the team.”

“Sir.” giving him a salute, she turned to walk away.

“And (Y/N).”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Be careful. We have a cunning and venomous one here.”

“I will keep that in mind, Sir.”

“Okay, you can go now.”

—-------------

The place looked as peaceful as ever. The aroma of roasted coffee beans, blended with that of butter and chocolate– it was a typical cafe. And the same cafe she had met Namjoon for the first time.  And as she watched the couple sitting across the place, the same seat she had been sitting on months ago, her meeting with Namjoon, her interaction, it all felt surreal. Their story was indeed novel-worthy! Like a perfect romcom—

Perfect…

(Y/N) froze completely for a moment when the realisation struck her– her chewing, her fiddling, even her breathing and blinking.

Each movement spent with her boyfriend flowed in and each moment seemed so…Perfect.

Beautiful or not, (Y/N) knew one thing about the world…Nothing is perfect.

Yes, there were some shortcomings here and there but the meetings, the bumping into one another again…Everything was indeed perfect.

She gulped, then blinked.

No, she was thinking too much. Namjoon was a true gentleman. A man she was falling for, she really liked him. Maybe–maybe even loved him? She was not much sure about love but she knew one thing for sure, her job’s stress was spilling over on her personal life and affecting her personal relationships.

Before her thoughts could spiral any further, the chair in front of her was pulled out and her boyfriend took a seat in front of her, boring holes into her form as he made himself comfortable.

“Oh, Hi Namjoon.”

Namjoon did not respond immediately, he just sat there, staring right into her eyes, fingers folded into a contemplating posture. For the first time, (Y/N) realised that indeed, it would not be difficult for him to take control over a class of even hundreds– he had a commanding presence.

“You have not been answering my calls,” he stated. 

There was no questioning regarding the possible reasons. There was no trace of ‘questions’ in his tone at all.

“Yes, I have been a bit busy lately– just the usual, police things.”

Namjoon simply hummed, eyes still searching hers without a shift. “What are you getting, little bird?”

“Uh…Coffee?” she was left baffled at her own reaction. 

It was Namjoon, just Namjoon. So why did she feel… scrutinised? She was reminded of the night she had seen a glimpse of…something in his eyes. 

“So– what would you have?” her gaze dropped to the menu card in front of her.

“The usual.”

She nodded to a waiter passing by 

“Would you like to order Ma’am?”

But before she could speak up, Namjoon ‘s voice intervened “One cappuccino frappe and a caramel macchiato along with some choco-chip cookies please.” 

As soon as the waiter was gone, he reached out for her hand on the table and sighed “You scared me (Y/N).” his eyes looked so soft and vulnerable, she thought she was crazy. Something had to be wrong with her to doubt a man like him.

“I’m so sorry Joon, I was so stressed about my job I…” he squeezed her hand gently and nodded.

“It must be stressful, right? See, you have dark circles forming.” His fingers reached out and traced the subtle bags forming under her eyes. “But please let me know (Y/N), let me know that you are okay, not too stressed, not hurt…I was so worried!”

Guilt encompassed her as she stared at his vulnerable gaze addressing her. He had been so worried about her and there she was, letting her investigative brain rush to conclusions and scenarios.

“I’m...I’m so sorry Joon, I should have informed you– I was so wrapped up in things and—” she stopped herself lest she would accidentally let something confidential slip out. And no matter who it was, having a loose tongue as a police officer was unacceptable.

“It’s okay, I understand Baby. Just never...” his hold on her hand tightened with a pause “Avoid me again.”

—-----

Everything was settled. Han, her, Dok and Kyong were in the special team. They met up at Han’s place in order to discuss their strategy.

“So we have a layout of the regions where we found drugs worth millions and from different cities. Each time, different location and different day.”

“Where’s the pattern though?” Han questioned, 

“In the fact that everything time, it is a city, a town at least, no remote area.”

“Yes.” (Y/N) added. All eyes turned to her and Kyong nodded “Not yet.”

“So, where do we begin?” Dok asked the much-anticipated question

“ As we know, we are on leave on paper. This is a highly confidential mission. First thing first, Sir asked us to be lowkey. No matter what we need to risk, just don’t get caught. The department would refuse any connection without activities here.”

“If it's a special mission then, why not involve the intelligence?”

“We are yet to receive any message from the higher-ups,” Kyong explained

“So we are on our own?”

“Definitely,” Han added.

“What we can do now is to track where the recent shipment was supposedly headed for– Gangnam. Why don’t we all spread to different high-profile clubs? Meanwhile, tell our informants to be on high alert, especially in Gangnam and nearby localities, even universities and colleges.” (Y/N) proposed.

“You’re right. Shall we go tonight?” Dok proposed

“Yes, we can but would not this be obvious if anything happens tonight? We found a shipment yesterday.” Kyong suggested,

“The weekend then?” 

“No (Y/N), the weekend is just too obvious. If anything does happen this weekend, it might be planned too, maybe to distract us—right–Kyong, your best informants are active nearby airports, stations and docks right?”

Han perked up as if a fuse went off in his head

“Tell them to be active tonight and especially this weekend. We can spread it in different clubs in Gangnam. If anything happens there, we shall also alert the informants and the police near dockyards, train stations and transportation areas. Because if they do plan to distract us, they might be up to something much bigger. Shipment, I assume, for now. We can catch them red-handed.”

“But where would be the official orders? Like, we are involving police officers from other regions Han.” Kyong had a point.

“Well, right, we can speak to Sir, right? He will provide us with the required.” Han proposed.

“Han is right, if this is a special mission at the department level, there is no way that the higher-ups have no idea. And even if they have no idea and Byuk Sir is risking it all for this mission, he has to have some loopholes in his mind. He can manage and he can help us all manage.” (Y/N) added.

“But, wait, we were supposed to just collect information, not arrest anyone.” Dok pointed out.

“Well, not this RM, we can’t reach to such a level by ourselves, but maybe get out hands on this…RM’s men? Won’t this be a breakthrough?” Kyong argued.

“And would alert them further? We don’t even know if this is a man, woman, organisation, or group–we are in complete darkness!” Dok pointed out and he was right.

“Dok’s right. We will only collect information, a full-fledged operation would happen only after approval from the higher-ups, we don’t know who we are dealing with Kyong and if something goes wrong, the whole department, especially Byuk Sir would be under fire. We have to first find out this…RM’s reach and standing.”

“Seems obnoxiously confident to me, deliberately giving away billions worth of shipments,” Han added.

“And we will let them be confident. Won’t take long to turn into overconfidence– one misstep and we can have them.” (Y/N) spoke up and everyone nodded in agreement.

“This weekend then.” Dok reminded.

“This very weekend Dok,” Kyong assured.

—-----------

“Are you free this Weekend?” Namjoon asked as he poured her some wine. 

They were dining in a moderately fancy restaurant to celebrate his promotion as the Department Head. Now he would be responsible for all the inter-section activities and event organisations for the Literature and Culture Department of the University.

“I wish I were Baby, but I need to help a friend out. She’s a colleague, her mother is sick, I need to take care of her baby for a day.”

“Oh, what happened?” he asked before sipping his wine.

“Cancer.”

She hated the fact that she was having to lie to him. But what was needed, was to be done.

“Oh, the type?”

“I don’t know much, it has been rough on her, I’m trying to help as much as I can.”

Namjoon hummed before smiling “It’s okay, Jagi, we will get to spend a lot of time later. Just take care of yourself, hmm?”

“Yes, sure Joon.” she smiled back, but guilt continued to tap within.

But it would be alright. Once she was done with this case, she would make up for the lost time with her Joonie. She reassured herself.

—------

“Okay, I’ve reached, Dok,(Y/N), Han?” Kyong’s voice was clear despite the thrumming music across the floor littered with moving and blinking streaks of neon. The earbuds were incredible.

.

“Yes, I’ve reached. Over.” (Y/N) responded and followed.

“Okay, you have your informants inside?”

“Yes.” (Y/N) replied, as she neared the bar, body language relaxed and dressed up to mingle with the crowd.

She ordered a drink– her eyes met with that of the bartender. They flashed with recognition and he nodded and prepared her drink. He poured yellow syrup over it.

A subtle sign that he was suspicious of someone in the nightclub.

“Here you go Ma’am.” he smiled and leaned further for the final garnishing, and as he leaned, he managed to whisper out “A man in a white shirt, scotch on rocks– corner seat.”

Taking her drink, she turned around and looked around the area. It was too chaotic and dark. And if there was someone, she did not want to seem even remotely suspicious. Fishing out her phone, she connected with another informant in the place– a waitress.

“Man in a white shirt, scotch on rocks, a corner seat. Use a bug.”

For an hour, whatever she had heard had been irrelevant but then, something caught her ears

“Yes, whole forty-eight, the shore, where else? Let's talk upstairs…”

From where she stood, she could see the man, partially visible under the shadows– he was a middle-aged, bulky man. But he was not alone, there were three more people. As they moved, (Y/N) slipped further under the shadows, pretending to be just another girl on call. Yet, from the corner of her eyes, she could see them beginning to walk towards the more private space of the club.

Under the shadows, she was about to stalk them when, with a beep, her team reconnected with call.

“ This is Kyong. We have information regarding a suspicious shipment at the dockyard, I repeat, we have information regarding a suspicious shipment to be loaded at the dockyard within an hour. Over.”

“Kyong, I think we have a suspect here. Over.” (Y/N) informed.

“We have to move to the dockyard first (Y/N) give the tell your informants to stay alert there. Over.” Kyong spoke

“Kyong, this might be important.”

“(Y/N), this is more important, you are alone there anyway. Just meet us near Cafe 18.” he named the meeting point in coded language.

Sighing, (Y/N) threw the door leading upstairs one last look before reconnecting with her informants 

“Keep an eye, bug the place if possible. Also, keep tonight’s footage ready. I’m leaving now.”

—-----

To their utter disappointment, there was no suspicious shipment discovered at the dockyard. Everything was in place. But the people the informant was suspicious of, had vanished into thin air as well– tightening the knot on the case further. 

“It's far more complicated than I had expected,” Dok spoke out, running his hands through his hair. 

After such a hectic night, the four of them decided to call it a day and grab some dinner at a good, old ramen shop.

“This is only our first attempt Dok, we can’t lose hope like that.” (Y/N) patted his back.

“It makes no sense, they are in the CCTV footage but they never reach the dock.”

Wait–CCTV footage!

“Oh right, I think I have found a lead.” (Y/N) dropped her chopsticks and perked up. She prayed that at least the bartender would have his hands on the CCTV footage.

“Really? What?” Han asked, 

“See, I have the recordings, I already sent them to each of you, just listen.”

Fishing out their earbuds, they listened to the part of the recording she had sent them. 

“Sounds familiar? He did not use anything directly, not an amateur for sure but the words, forty-eight, shore. Don’t they ring a bell?”

“They surely do. Can we have access to tonight’s footage?”

“I hope so too. By tomorrow I guess?” (Y/N) prayed what she said would come true.”

“Okay, as soon as you get hold of that, inform us. Han, is your girlfriend home?”

“No, she has gone to her parents’.”

“Perfect.” Kyong clapped his and together.

—------

“Have you watched the footage yourself?” Kyong asked as Han began to set up his laptop.

“No, I came straight here.” (Y/N) replied with her eyes still stuck on the laptop screen 

“That's a good move, what if people are keeping an eye on us too?”

“Quiet possible.”

As soon as Han clicked on ‘play’, the strenuous task of analysing the video began. But four pairs of eyes were far better than one.

(Y/N) could feel her patience waning. The man and those people with him had been so exceptionally discreet, there was no trace of them in the footage even after hours of watching and—

“Wait, wait wait! Rewind that.” She jumped up as soon as something caught her eye.

“What, this?” Han was clueless.

She tasked and took the laptop before rewinding the footage again. Narrowing her eyes, she zoomed in.

“It's him, the man.” She declared and placed the laptop in front of everyone.

“I see. We need to save this picture, take a screenshot Han.” Kyong suggested as he clicked a picture on his phone too. 

It was thankfully, not blurry enough to be unrecognisable, and the fact that they had not reached the end of the video made them more hopeful of catching something else. 

Han clicked on play again before they discovered the people with the man as well. One by one.

“Hmm, there are three more men and a woman. But only their backs are visible until now.”

“Wait!” (Y/N) yelled out, catching them off guard.

“Did you find something?” Han asked as he paused the video once more.

(Y/N) licked her lips and took hold of the laptop. Rewinding the part, she watched closely again. The second man…Even though his back was to the camera, he was too familiar to her.

After a few seconds, they all turned to the side to take their seats. There, she could see his side profile and her legs were fast turning brittle.

“You have seen anyone from here (Y/N)?” she could not answer Dok.

Instead, her eyes stayed on the frozen screen, she zoomed in and a wave of nausea hit her.

Namjoon...

It was Namjoon!

Her boyfriend Namjoon. She would recognise him anywhere– from the way he walked, to his back, his hair and now his side profile. Too many coincidences could never be a coincidence.

“(Y/N), you know him?” Kyong asked.

Yes.

She wanted to scream a ‘yes’ but she just could not.

“No, I was just…taking a good look at them.” she deadpanned.

—------

“Hello, this is (Collage Name) College, how may I help you?” The receptionist’s gentle voice echoed through the phone, but it only turned (Y/N)’s heartbeat erratic.

“Hello, I would like to leave Professor Namjoon a message regarding the upcoming semester.”

“Let me check Ma’am, please let me know your details.” She requested

“ Choi Hana, Guardian of his student.”

“I request you to stay online, please…Yes, thank you, Professor Namjun you asked. Let me transfer your call to the Economics Department.”

“Economics Department? But isn’t he a professor in the Department of Literature and Culture Studies?”

“Ma’am we only have Cultural Studies Department. Literature is a separate Department. Shall I forward this call, Ma’am?”

“Okay.” (Y/N) managed to squeak out.

After a few beeps, another voice greeted her.

“Good afternoon, this is the Department of Economics of (College Name) College, how may I help you?” Another woman’s voice filled her ear.

“Can I speak to Professor Namjun, please? I am a guardian of one of his students”

“I am sorry Ma’am, he is attending the Department meeting right now. But you can leave a message.”

“He is the department chairperson, right?”

“No Ma’am, not anymore, he was, two years back.”

“Oh?”

“Yes Ma’am, would you like to leave a message?”

“Sure, please let him know that…that I would be thankful to him if he could give me an appointment to meet him. It's an urgent matter.”

“Surely ma’am, would you like to share your name and contact?”

“Yes, uh, Choi Hana.” she gave the email address she used for her undercover investigations before the line was cut off.

(Y/N) felt her throat close up and her eyes turn blurry. The park was scarcely populated during the afternoons– thanks to that. But she would still not risk breaking down in a public place. Se ought to hold herself up like a true officer.

Leaning against a tree, she tried to gather herself together. But with each passing moment, her lips quivered just a little more.

No. Not now. Now now!

She tried to school herself. But nothing seemed to work. One stubborn tear managed to escape her eye anyway.

I loved you.

Another tear followed.

I trusted you

Then another.

But she managed to stop herself from bursting into a fit of tears and the scream that was itching her chords with deep, calming breaths.

A drink.

Yes, that was what she needed.

—-----

By the time she was home, the sun had already set, but it was a pleasant evening– ideal for walking home. She was not drunk, or even tipsy. It was just a buzz but it could not make her feel any better.

The apartment was plunged into a tense darkness when she stepped in. Her fingers twitched, ready to reach for her gun at any moment, but she kept her body language calm– casual and unassuming.

“How was babysitting?”

She jumped at his voice. But it was too dark for her to see. 

Before she could reach the light switch, Namjoon switched on a table lamp, illuminating the space enough for her to see him sitting on the sofa but somehow making her own apartment appear threatening. 

With him in it, the place did not even feel like her own. She no longer felt safe with him.

Switching on the lights anyway, she schooled her expressions to that of being pleasantly surprised, even though her throat felt parched. Sometimes, working in the police paid off immensely.

“I was babysitting yesterday Joon,” she replied, putting away the titbits she had bought on her way home.

Namjooon gave her the heart-melting smile her heart had fluttered for. She managed to smile back at him as she made her way towards the kitchen. The delicious aroma of her favourites hit her. Switching on the kitchen lights, her suspicions were confirmed as takeouts from her favourite ramen stall awaited her at the kitchen island.

“I missed you awfully today. Couldn’t help myself.” Namjoon's hot breath teased the back of her neck, making goosebumps appear all over her body.

“Oh, Joon…you didn’t have to.”

“I don’t mind doing this for you, Jagi.” He placed a kiss on the back of her neck as she held back a grimace, keeping her smile plastered on her face.

Her heart stung bitterly as his lips tenderly traced her cheek and the side of her neck. She was greeted by his warm smile and soft eyes as he turned her around, fished out his phone from his pocket and played her favourite song. Perfect for slow-dancing to.

“What has gotten into you?” (Y/N) chuckled, keeping her composure as he led her steps, twirling her now and then.

“I love you so much, Jagi. You know that right?” his fingers wrapped gently at the back of her neck as he pulled her into a breath-robbing kiss.

“Yes, I know that.”

Now that I know your true face.

His lips descended to the side of her neck as he pulled her closer. 

Bear it.

She told herself.

Do not let him be suspicious.

“Then why are you trying to investigate me?”

His voice dropped into something heavy and unrecognisable and everything stilled. But before she could think of anything, she felt his fingers pressing at the side of her neck and her eyes rolled back.

*****

Pheww! It was a long part, but I enjoyed writing it and hopefully, it would not disappoint you all!

[targaryenluvs]

COLD

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader, Namjoon x Fem!Reader (WOC)

SUMMARY: Not a single person would have expected this from them, especially not ARMY. But it seemed Jungkook had a taste for things unwilling, and he couldn’t care for your feelings at all.

WARNINGS: Dark themes, sexual content, non-consensual acts, attempted breakup, odd behaviour, possessiveness, secrecy, blackmailing, helplessness, complicity

A/N: I do not condone the actions within this story, nor do I think that any member of BTS acts like this. All pure fiction. Inspired by ‘Good Guy’ - ZAYN.

WORDCOUNT:

perhaps it was your fault.

wishful thinking and a few too many drinks to try and calm your nerves. it all caused you to wind up here, at namjoons place. you’d met him more than enough times to show up without texting ahead, you were good friends. always laughing together and chatting away the night when around each other.

he was a good friend.

your trust in him was heavy, and you hoped he’d have a solution for the problem at hand.

your boyfriend, jungkook.

lately your relationship felt as if it was a cage, not for him, but you. he’s jeon jungkook! international pop star, model, singer, rapper, dancer and everything under the sun. what can’t he do?

let go.

you’d tried to get out of the relationship before. you found yourself either stuck at his apartment for the entire day, waiting for him, or bombarded with text messages and calls when out of his place. you were tired. your entire life had become him. keeping your relationship was exhausting enough. dodging cameras, unable to get to his house during the day due to eminent fear of paparazzi.

you were tired of feeling like a secret. something to be held during the nights and hidden away during the light of day. and you hated that you felt this way. the excitement kept you going during the beginning, secret moments and stares in public.

it was exhilarating. but it became old quickly, for you at least.

-

“i can’t keep doing this, i’m so tired. i’m tired of hiding, and i’m not trying to pressure you into going public but i want to be able to be with you outside. not the same thing every single day. i’m not even mad at doing the same jesus, i just want to be able to breath fresh air with you.”

“and we can! i have a break coming soon, we can get away. we can do anything you want baby.”

jungkook made his way past the bed to you, holding you in his arms in front of the tall mirror. “no you don’t get it, and that’s okay. i’m not mad, i’m tired. i just want someone that’s—,” you exhaled before continuing, “i want someone available.”

it felt like his arms constricted you even further, the firm muscle keeping you in place. whether it was a conscious move or subconscious, it hurt like a bitch. “let go please.”

your pleading fell on deaf ears as he nuzzled into your neck, lips pressing heavy kisses to your cold skin. it was cold that night, the wind flowed through the room and caused the curtains to flutter.

the constriction, the kisses, the cold, it was overwhelming. “i’m okay.” you scrunched your eyebrows at his reply. he lifted you easily, carrying you to the bed before climbing in with you. “we’ll talk about it tomorrow i promise.” the lights were out, and you were left in the cold.

-

the talk never came. he’d left early in the morning for rehearsals and that was that. every time you tried to bring it up there was always something else that took priority. whether it be a rehearsal, a birthday, anything to avoid the topic. jungkook would take it.

you were fed up, and rightfully so. of course he didn’t want to hear all the reasons you wanted to leave. it wasn’t that you didn’t love him, you just needed more. and the overwhelming anxiety you felt at the idea of other people finding out was always looming over you like a dark cloud.

this didn’t need to be messy, and you hoped that talking it out with someone close to him would help. all the members would agree and understand your point. they had busy lives, and their careers were only growing. with military enlistments and solo projects? they were still growing. and their comeback would be insane.

namjoon tended to answer relatively quickly, “hey, what’re you doing here?” he wasn’t annoyed, just curious, not many people showed up on doorsteps at 2am.

“i need to talk to someone about me and him. please?”

he opened the door wider, inviting you in. you gladly accepted, the cold air was hitting you harshly. namjoons place was one of your favourites, he had good taste. you hoped you’d be able to see it again after the breakup.

the two of you sat down, “so what did you need to say?” namjoon tilted his head inquisitively, giving you his attention.

so you spilt it all. the loneliness, the fear, the isolation, the tiring cycle. you loved him, but you felt as if life in general was keeping you apart. and you wanted to freely love him without worrying about other people and their feelings. you talked about how it sometimes felt as if the fans and their feelings were put first. (you loved all army, but they did take up a chunk of love and time. the fans were the biggest part of this.)

namjoon didn’t interrupt you at all, instead piping in with ‘i get it’ and ‘i’m sorry’. you sighed, your throat dry after speaking for so long. but it felt good, to fully get it off your chest and speak to someone who didn’t dismiss you or change the subject. it was acknowledgment. and it felt good.

“you could’ve told me you felt like that.” jungkooks voice caused goosebumps all over your body. your back faced the door/entryway, how long had he been there? how the hell didn’t you hear him?

you turned to see namjoons face filled with sympathy, “did you know he’d be here?” the exhale was all you needed.

“i called him when i saw you on the security feed.” and just like that,

it was cold again.

[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.

[min-hoax]

dirty little secrets - knj

Summary: Namjoon was a hopeless romantic. He thought that was his destiny, and for you? That was simply your doom.

Pairing: Yandere! Namjoon x F! Reader

Word Count: 8.25K

Warning(s): Obsession, stalking, he’s so delusional 😍, the reader is a messy bitch BUT I love her, infidelity, underage drinking, mentions of drugZ (characters are over 18!), mentions of suicide, manslaughter, mentions of blood and a dead body, mentions of attempted SA, MDNI 18+ SMUT SMUT SMUT, cunnilingus, fingering, loss of virginity, sliiiiiiiight breeding kink (it’s me, yall should’ve known😭)

A/N: I know I said I’d be gone, but I got so inspired!! This fic is written in Namjoon’s POV! Enjoy being in our lovely yanderes’ mind. 😈 UNEDITED!!!

I dreamt of you before I met you.

In my romanticizing mind where I’d day dream about our life and what could be. You, wrapped around my arms as you slept. Us, on a trip that you desired to go to ever since you were a child.

It was moments like those that made me wait for you, and only for you because the moment I set my eyes on you, I was a goner.

I smiled at you from across the room when we locked eyes, the blaring music thundering inside my chest as you sat on a table, your legs swinging up and down. You nodded when your friend voiced something loudly, agreeing to whatever it was, but yet your eyes remained on mine.

I caught your eyes just like you caught mine.

But my admiration did not last long for a boy slithered his way into your embrace, a red cup of liquor in his hand that he passed to you while pecking your lips. I should have known a beautiful angel like you was bound to be in the arms of a lover, but how come I felt a little pang on my chest the second your lips locked with his?

I knew we were meant to be because how did the universe connect us both so effortlessly? It wanted us together and I knew that the second I saw you again. I set my eyes on you that same night, this time not at a house party, but at your own home.

Our home.

The move frightened me and caused my calamitous mind to drown in nightmares of what could be’s, but once I set foot in the town that I now called my home, I knew everything was going to be fine. Everyone was kind and welcoming and I didn’t even spend a sweat in finding a home once I packed my childhood home up and made my way north.

The memories of my mother were too haunting and I simply could not bear it. I had enough money from the life insurance company I acquired after her passing and made the decision so quickly after.

I found the ad one Saturday afternoon: Room For Rent! $525 A Month. ALL Amenities Included. I talked to a woman on the phone (now I know it was your mother) when I reached out, allowing her to know I was interested in the offer. She was kind and after a longing while of questions, she accepted and I made my way to you. I just didn’t know it then.

Your scream from fright made me jump, the cup of water in my hands slightly dripping droplets on the wooden ground. “What the fuck?” You muttered, taking a step back. Your eyes were messy with makeup, the night no doubt taking a toll on your sleep, after all it was three in the morning when you walked inside. “Who the hell are you?”

I meant to speak, but the creek of your mothers’ door opening upstairs kept me from opening my mouth, and seeing you standing before me did not help either. Your mother made her way to us, wrapping her pink fleecy robe around her waist. Your scream no doubt roused her from sleep.

“What’s going on - oh.” She looked at us. Did she not tell you about me? Perhaps not, it was obvious. But I was slightly afraid that I’d be scolded by your mother. I was free to roam the inside of your home to make my meals and shower and get a cup of water in the middle of the night, but yet you were her daughter and mothers were always fiercely protective. I knew.

“Sweetheart.” She started and smiled. “This is Namjoon. I guess I didn’t tell you he’d be renting the room at back.”

“Uh, since when?”

“Since… two nights ago?” She looked at me, trying to remember. I nodded. “Yes, since Thursday. I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s nice to meet you.”

I didn’t know I was desperate to feel your touch, but as soon as your hands fit in mind when you shook it and introduced yourself with a tired smile on your face, I shuddered.

“Well I'm glad you weren’t an intruder.” Your hand slipped from mind as you made your way into the kitchen, fetching a glass and filling it with water whilst speaking. “Just, mom, please give me a heads up next time.”

Next time? I wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. I knew there were others before me, the wall by my bed was vandalized with small figures and initials that read KTH, and I always wondered who resided in the room I now slept in.

You looked like an angel when you took a step towards the stairs, turning your head to smile at me one last time. The light on the ceiling gifted you with a glow that made me smile like an idiot. “Goodnight.”

Oh, I was a goner.

I couldn’t help it. I was never a violent person and I even surprised myself when I thought of punching your boy in his perfect face. I knew for a fact that though I was taller and was at an advantage, I could not win in a fight because I had never been in one. I was never the confrontational type.

He was the epitome of perfection. Round, but define cheeks, plump pink lips that made my jaw clench when yours connected with his, and blonde hair that fit him perfectly. He was everything that I wasn’t and that made me want to shrivel up inside and scream with rage until my throat was sore and my voice was nonexistent.

But I could only dream.

“Namjoon, please, help yourself.” Your mothers voice called for me, taking me out of my thoughts and onto the situation that I did not want to deal with. You and Park Jimin.

He sat before me, a plate of breakfast on the diner table and an arm wrapped around the back of you as you nursed a cup of coffee.

There was something with you and coffee. I always noticed you would make yourself a cup, take a few sips, but you never finished it. Always throwing it out the drain before you made your way to school. I always wondered. Until I didn’t.

I wasn’t in school, not yet anyway. After I graduated a few years back my mother tried her best to steer me towards it, but I wasn’t interested, even after the various scholarships I was offered. I knew I could still, for I was smart and capable. There was a part of me that did want to, just to simply join you at the community college you and Jimin went to, but I refrained.

I wasn’t a stalker.

“So Namjoon, how are you liking it here?” Jimin suddenly spoke with a bright smile on his cheeks. It wasn’t that it took me by surprise, Jimin had never spoken to me directly, but I didn’t want him to talk to me. To me, the younger boy was obnoxiously loud and a nuisance.

I breathed as I pushed the want of rolling my eyes. But instead, I took a finger on the bridge of my glasses and pushed them up. I smiled.

“It’s great.” I replied, nodding. “Everyone is kind and the setting is absolutely beautiful. The forestation that surrounds us is amazing.” I couldn’t help but to look at you as I voiced my opinion. I wasn’t lying, you were absolutely beautiful. Absolutely perfect.

Jimin raised a brow and chuckled. “Well, I’m glad. I’ve never really noticed what surrounds us, but I agree.” And with a sip of his apple juice, the conversation between us ended.

I was glad.

But where a conversation dies, another one starts. Your mother was a very talkative person. I had only been with you all for about two weeks in a half, but I felt like I knew her for years. She talked about herself a. lot, and I only wished that she did of you, but I figured she was just lonely after her husband’s passing.

She talked about him all the time and I noticed that she refrained from speaking about him when you were around. From what she spoke of your father, he seemed like a good man. It was only after you left one day to go to school, she finally confessed. She cornered me in the laundry room when I went to gather my clothes and started speaking of everything and anything, until she came about your father.

“My love struggled a lot when he was on earth side. He was fine for a while, but it got too much for him and one day he decided to leave us. My sweet girl found him.”

After that, I finally understood. Why she never spoke of him when you were present and why you made yourself a cup of coffee, but never drank it. The cup was your fathers, engraved with his initials on the side.

I felt my heart break for you and all I could say was that I was sorry. You didn’t deserve to live with the trauma inside of your wonderful mind and inside your perfect heart. In a way I understood you. My mother had gotten sick, until one day the sickness enveloped her whole until she was left with nothing and I was left with a hole inside my chest. There was nothing else to do for her.

My heart jumped as you stood because it mean you’d leave. I could only look at you as you made your way to the sink (as expected) took a farewell sip of the coffee before dumping it in.

“Have a good day.” I said with a wide smile as you retrieved your backpack and the baby blue cup you seemed to take with you everywhere. At least you stayed hydrated. I knew because you had to go to the restroom often.

You returned it, that beautiful smile that made me want to kneel at your feet and beg you to smile for all of eternity. “Thank you, Namjoon.” And you walked, “Bye mom, love you.”

My smile died as Jimin wrapped his arm around your neck, kissing your cheek. And you smiled. I only looked away, watching you unlock your vehicle and getting inside of it.

This jealousy only seemed to grow. I couldn’t help it. I wished you weren’t someone else’s. I wish that my miserable self had gotten here just a little bit earlier, maybe then you’d have been mine.

But would you have liked me?

I never considered myself someone who others would accept romantically. Growing up, I was a lame excuse of a human being, always too shy, always too quiet and afraid to speak my mind. As I grew older, I got better at communicating with the people around me, but I still stuttered when I spoke, and still struggled to continue a conversation.

It was a blessing and a curse because nobody spoke to me, just as I wanted it to be.

As I wrote, I simply couldn’t focus. All I thought of was you, every day and every second that passed by. No one had ever captivated my mind the way you did. I waited for you in my home right outside in the backyard. There was a small window by the door - the only way to get inside and out. It faced yours and I would always see you once you arrived and came home from school.

We had a routine. You’d see me through the curtains, and we’d smile at each other as I worked and I couldn’t wait until dinner arrived because I’d be in your presence and you’d be in mine.

There was something in your eyes that made me believe that you… wanted me. Was I delusional? I’d see it every single time you’d pull your chair out for dinner. You’d give me a smirk as you made your way next to me and I would only give a small hello and thank your mother for the delicious food that she had prepared. But through it, you’d look at me through the corner of your eye and I would only pretend I didn’t see.

You had Jimin. You weren’t like that. That’s what I truly believed until you came stumbling into my room, drunk in the middle of the night and immediately grabbing onto my shirt and connecting your lips with mine.

My heart had never pounded so fast. It took me by surprise which is why I took a hold of your shoulders and gently took a step back. “What are you doing?” Your eyes were bloodshot, like you’d been crying and I cupped your warm cheeks into my hands and took a glance at your cherry-burgundy lips.

“Do you not want me?” The tone in how you voiced the question made my heart ache; begging and fretful. How could you say such a thing? I have always wanted you, but not like this.

“Come. Sit.” I grabbed your wrist and I sat you on the edge of my bed. “What’s going on? What happened?” I towered over you as you sniffled and looked at me with tearful eyes.

“Jimin, -“

Of course.

“ - he doesn’t want to have sex with me.” You said it so meekly that I almost didn’t hear you. “He - he keeps making excuses about how he wants to wait till marriage, but I mean that is such bullshit! It’s outdated and stupid. Who at this date and age does not want to have sex? He’s not even religious!” As much as it pained me to see the tears falling from your eyes so delicately, I couldn’t help but to feel a sense of victory through your defeat.

Did this mean your relationship with Jimin was coming to an end? It had to, right? You seemed happy at his side, but now, as I saw the proof in front of me, it was all a faux.

But there was also a part of me that felt angry. Was I just your second choice? Would you have come for me and begged for me to bed you if you had other men wrapped around your finger?

“Well, -“ I started slowly, taking a seat to the right of you. “ - sometimes people like to wait, you know, just to be sure that the person they're giving themselves up for is… worth it.”

You sniffled again, wiping at your face. “You - you think he thinks I’m not worth it? We’ve been together for almost two years.”

Remind me, why don’t you.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wouldn’t be able to tell you myself, but a girl like you, you’re worth everything. To give up for, to kill for. Just say the words and you’ll have men at their knees. You decide.”

-

You were taunting me, it was so obvious. With those deliciously roguish eyes that eyed me with want and the skirts that barely covered your bottoms with the shirts that you paired that were the definition of skimpy, I knew what game you were playing.

It was when your arms would stray away from your lap and would just gently touch my arms at dinner, I knew that you wanted me the way I wanted you.

But it was wrong. Although I hated Jimin, I couldn’t help but to think that if I were in his position, your betrayal would wound me like no other. He seemed to love you, yet here you were, teasing me with your sensual eyes and your beautiful body that I absolutely wanted to ravish and worship.

But through the slight guilt I felt, there was a part of me that was… happy. Your mother was a nurse, working mostly every night at the local hospital which left me home, alone with you and with my tumultuous mind. You and Jimin were almost similar it seemed. You’d argue almost every night when he stayed to keep you company.

And though I couldn’t help but to feel jealous, a part of me was comfortable with him at your side because after that night that you came to me for comfort, the virgin wanted to wait until marriage.

My mother raised me right which is why I pushed myself away from listening to your heated match. But how could I? I had never met someone who could screech in anger the way you did to him.

He left soon thereafter, slamming the door with such force that it made my body jump from the sound. I fought with myself to go check on you, maybe you needed your space, but the thought of you crying was enough to do me in. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water, climbing the stairs and making my way to you.

The knock on the door was almost timid and quiet, but even when you didn’t answer, I gently opened it, and there you were, in a fetus position laying on your side, hugging a giant teddy bear to your chest.

“Hi.” You whispered looking up at me with those eyes that I loved so much. But they were swollen, and my immediate thought was to comfort you. I didn’t think when I sat at your side, brushing the strands of hair that were at the front of your face.

“Hey, there beautiful.”

You huffed, “I look far from beautiful right now.”

How could you ever think that? You were an angel fallen from heaven.

“Do you think he hates me? I said some pretty shitty things.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes, but for your sake I simply shook my head. “Of course not. I’m sure he understands that people say shitty things when they're angry. I mean, I’m sure he has said some things to you before, no?”

With a shake of your head you maneuvered your body, landing right on your back with the teddy bear on top.

“No, Jimin isn’t like that. He’s quiet in moments like these. I feel like that makes me angrier, you know? Like tell me something, tell me that I’m a bitch or that you hate me, but say something! Anything!”

I understand why he kept quiet. I would never say things of that magnitude to you. It was a disrespect that no one could come back from because you would never deserve it.

“So you like to be degraded?” I teased, raising a brow.

“What?” You chuckled. There it was. Just exactly what I wanted. “Of course not, Namjoon!” I smiled at the playful strike you landed on my thigh. “I’m just saying, I just feel like he doesn’t try to communicate.”

“Well… maybe you need to find someone else.” I couldn’t believe what I was doing. “Someone who could take your needs as theirs and actually knows how to communicate. My mother always said that communication was key in a relationship.”

“But I love him.” I swear, my chest felt like it was struck with something so tight that I couldn’t comprehend. How could you say something like that in my presence? Couldn’t you see how much I loved you?

And through my anger, I couldn’t help but to reply. “Sometimes, loving someone means you have to let them go. I know it’s hard, but I know you know Jimin isn’t good for you. All this arguing, this crying, it will only take a toll on you that you cannot take.”

Your fingertips on my thigh took me by surprise, stroking it with such sensuality as you looked up at me with those eyes that screamed for me to take you to bed. “And how would you know, hm? Have you ever had a girlfriend, Namjoon?”

My breath hitched as your fingers played with the waist of my pants, tugging them down just slightly. “N - no.”

It was a lie. But why bring past mistakes into my future? I hated lying to you, but a little white lie would never hurt.

“No?” You hummed, now on your knees as you came closer. I could feel your breathing and as my hands guided you into my lap, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

My lips connected with yours with such hunger, such intensity. How I longed to hold you close and have you by my side. Your body wrapped around mine felt so right, like a puzzle piece I knew I was missing. Couldn’t you see? We were perfect for each other.

With a small grunt, I laid you down on your bed without separating myself from you, desperately taking off your oversized shirt that you hid your alluring body from. And with hunger, I wrapped my lips around your beautiful breasts, pecking your sternum and making my way down to the waist of your pants. You complied, raising your hips and allowing me to remove the nuisance from your waist.

And what a sight. There wasn’t an inch of you that I couldn’t find a flaw. Stretch marks followed the side of your thighs, and along the middle of your tummy. I kissed them with reverence before my tongue dove inside the place I always wanted to be in.

You tasted absolutely divine. And I was hungry for more as I sucked on the little pearl between your legs, wrapping my hands around your thighs and hugging you closer.

“Namjoon.” You whimpered, and that made me want you even more.

The small little gasp you made made me smirk and I didn’t hold back from bringing you close to the orgasm that you were on the brink of, but I held back. I wanted to be inside of you as I came and held my hold inside of you. You looked up at me as I undressed, my sweatpants on the ground in an instant before I held you tight between my arms and entered the place I had dreamt of being.

Your brows furrowed from the uncomfortableness, it was to be expected as I was your first - the first man that had ever been inside of you. The thought almost brought me to the brink, but I wanted your first time to be loving and special.

And just as I expected, the feeling was euphoric and I couldn’t help but to moan and drop my head in the warmth of your neck. Your hands held my neck tight as you adjusted, soft little pants escaping your precious lips. “I know, sweetheart. I know.” I whispered, giving you soft little pecks on your lips and on your forehead as comfort.

“I - I think you can move.”

“Are you sure?” The furrow in between your brows was gone, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to hurt you, but when you nodded and gave me a smile, I pulled away from the warmth between your legs, and made my way in once again.

At that moment, my dreams were coming true. Jimin was nonexistent as I knew it was the same for you. You muttered my name and my name only as you held me with a vice grip and kissed me on the lips.

I had never been brought to such ecstasy the way I did with you. After you came for the first time before I brought you to more, I soon followed, gasping for breath from the feeling of you holding by cock with such a vice grip.

We took a breath for a second as we giggled like school children and kissed each other hard. But you were insatiable. You wanted for more even as your legs shook with exhaustion and you mounted me and rode me like I was the last man on earth.

But of course, you needed to sleep and your body knew it, and soon after we finished making love, your eyes drooped and you slept so soundly, close to my chest and my beating heart.

I couldn’t help but to stroke your belly. Maybe… my seed would take place inside of you and you’d be pregnant before we knew it. In my mind, I sickly hoped that you were. I knew that I was going out on a limb and that one couldn’t get pregnant with just one night, but I wanted you to be.

I always dreamt of a family. Was I so wrong to want something with the woman I loved?

But the righteous won. We were still young and… Jimin, Jimin was still in the picture. Goddamn Park Jimin. I hated him with everything I had, and I hated my mind even more for ruining the afterglow I was basking in.

With I sigh, I gently kissed the crown of your head, getting dressed with the thought of making my way to a pharmacy and getting you a contraceptive to prevent pregnancy. I knew it wasn’t right.

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand and with a glance, my stomach dropped as I read it.

JiHoon: Hey, baby. I loved that little present you gave me. See you soon?

I couldn’t help the tears from forming and with a slam to your door, I left your bedroom, no doubt rousing you from your sleep.

-

I couldn’t stop staring at you. The night you gifted me with stuck to my mind. You gave me something forbidden that I couldn’t come back from. After I left your bedroom, I made my way to the pharmacy, slightly smiling at the only cashier and took the bag with me. I left it on your nightstand, but I couldn’t bear to look as you slept.

You betrayed me.

You kept betraying me. The fight you had with Jimin seemed to be forgotten. You two lovebirds were inseparable the following day. Were you not guilty? Or did you just stick by his side because he was all you knew and you couldn’t let go?

I knew I could give you something better. Something that was worth your time and effort. I’ll take you out of this town that you lived in your whole life and perhaps we could live in the home I grew up in. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough for the both of us.

“Hey, Namjoon.” You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You awkwardly looked away and eyed Jimin. You couldn’t even look me in the eyes.

You both sat at the hanging bench that was at the front of your house, your arm wrapped around his. Jimin smiled at me, nodding at my precence, but I didn’t follow. I couldn’t help but to glare. But as soon as it formed, I hid it, immediately smiling bright, looking down at the both of you.

I was feeling messy.

“Did you take it?”

It was obvious I caught you off guard. You gulped, letting out a nervous chuckle. Jimin, of course had no idea about the contraceptive I had bought you, and I took pride and a bit of sick pleasure at your unprepared face

“Take what?” Jimin questioned with furrowed brows.

“Uh - just, I - I had a headache last night, and uh, Namjoon gave me pain killers. That’s it.”

You weren’t a great liar, but you were fast.

“Good.” I nodded, “You should just have a few on hand, you know, for when it happens again because headaches -“ I eyed Jimin, shaking my head, “they’re the worst.”

“Right. You know what, we were leaving. We have a movie to watch.” You stood quickly, taking a hold of your lover's hand and when you walked and I was at your back, I spoke once again.

“You don’t mind if I tag along?”

There was a pause as the birds chirped and Jimin turned. “Uh, yeah sure, why not?” I knew the invite was just a lie, but I knew the man wasn’t going to turn me down; he was kind and simply couldn’t take it.

“I’ll drive.” I offered, my long legs allowing me to walk ahead and just as I wanted, I stood next to you, opening the door to my vehicle and letting you go first. “Thanks.” You muttered.

The drive was… unpleasant. As much as Jimin tried to make small conversation, it simply didn’t go anywhere. I hated to admit, but Jimin wasn’t so bad. He tried his best to make me comfortable and no doubt himself, but I despised him and a part of him knew.

When we arrived at the theater after Jimin kept instructing me where to go, I paid for the tickets and for the snacks. I figured it was the least I could do after I stuck with you both like a leech. Jimin was thankful, patting me on the back and taking a seat on the tables the theater offered. He nodded when you voiced you needed to go to the restroom, and I took a seat, taking a sip of the cherry slushee.

“I don’t mean to pry, but did she tell you what happened last night?” His question caught me off guard.

“She didn’t have to tell me. I heard everything.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, about that, I’m sorry you had to hear that. It’s just - when she gets like that, she can’t stop and it’s difficult to speak.”

Was he seriously blaming you right now?

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I completely understand. Don’t worry about it.”

“You ever had a girlfriend, Namjoon?” Why did it sound like he was mocking me? Did I seem to be below him because I didn’t carry his fair skin and plump pink lips? He was everything I wasn’t - had everything I wanted, and I wanted to punch him until he was left unrecognizable and no one would ever look his way.

“No.” I replied with a shake of my head. “Not really.” He looked at me with confusion. “What do you mean, ‘not really’?

I despised thinking of Anna, and leave it to Jimin to bring back memories I wanted to bury deep in my consciousness. She was a woman who deserved no mercy, not after the way she spoke of my mother, like if she were scum below her shoes.

My mother was the light of my life and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of her and held her close to my heart.

I loved Anna, or at least I thought I did, and I admit, it did hurt me letting her go, but now I know that what I had with her was never love. She was a fiend, and you are an angel.

“I prefer not to talk about it. Do you mind if I go to the restroom?”

“No, of course no -“

I didn’t even let him finish. With caution, I checked my surroundings before I entered the women’s restroom, intently scanning the thin wooden doors of the stalls and once I caught the black Converse’s you wore, I placed my back against the wall, and waited.

The small little gasp of fear that escaped your mouth once you saw me made me smile. “Sorry. I just had to talk to you.” I shrugged, grabbing your wrists to bring you close. I couldn’t deny that it pained me when I went in to kiss you and you pushed me away.

There was confusion written all over my face, it was obvious, and you noticed.

“What the hell are you doing, Namjoon? Jimin is right outside and you can get in trouble if someone finds you in here.”

“I just wanted to talk to you. You - you have been acting weird ever since yesterday. I get it - just come over to my room tonight, yeah? Please? I have something I want to give you.”

You raised your brows. “Another plan B pill?

“Well, if I didn’t get it for you, you might as well could’ve been pregnant at this very moment. If you wanted to have my baby, you could have just said so.”

Would that really have been that bad?

“Don’t be an ass, dude.” With a huff and a roll of your eyes, you turned, making your way to the sink and pumping soap onto your hands. I followed just behind you and took you by the hips.

“Please?” My hands slithered lower and by the look of the reflection, I knew you were craving for more just as much as I was.

“O - okay. Fine. Just, let me go first or Jimin will realize what’s going on.”

“By all means,-“ I gestured with my hand. - ladies first.” And with a stolen kiss I smiled, seeing you walk away and no doubt, into the arms of my mortal enemy.

-

My leg shook with anticipation as I looked at the clock on my desk: 2:36AM. You said you’d be here, so where the hell were you? As soon as we got home from the theater, you said goodbye to Jimin and locked yourself inside your room. I knew because I knocked on your door multiple times before giving up and making my way to the little backyard home I resided in.

I huffed, landing with a thump on my bed, entertaining myself with the charm bracelet that was on my hand. My heart pounded once I heard two little knocks on my door and I instantly stood up and opened the door.

I smiled brightly once I saw you, dressed in a gray v-neck shirt and baby pink pajama pants with cupcakes cluttered on the cloth. “Hey, beautiful. What took you so long?”

You made your way in, taking a seat on my bed. “I took a nap.”

I chuckled and raised a brow. “You don’t take naps.”

Teasing, you replied, getting rid of your slippers and wrapping yourself around my blanket. “And how would you know that? Hm?”

I shrugged, “Through your window. You snore, do you know that?” I laughed out loud when you smacked me with my pillow, gasping with offense. “No I do not! You’re such a little liar!”

This could be our future.

Content and happiness, just you and I. Our home filled with laughs and quick witted banters. Couldn’t you see? We belonged together. I knew it the second I saw you.

“Here.”

My hand was out, presenting you the bracelet that I cherished as a part of me. My mother never took it off, from what I knew, she’d had it in her early teens and kept it since. You meant everything to me now, and it was yours to have.

“It’s beautiful Namjoon.” You gasped, sitting upright, stroking the charms.

“It was my mothers. I want you to have it.” I could see it in your eyes, you wanted to decline, but I wouldn’t allow it. “Please.”

I took a hold of your wrist, wrapping the jewelry around your carpus and connecting the clasp.

“Namjoon, I can -“

“Yes.” I pushed. “You can. I want you to have it. I have no purpose for it. It doesn’t fit and I’d rather it be used than to be locked inside a box without it ever seeing daylight again. Please? It would mean a lot to me.”

You eyed me for a few seconds then sighed. “Okay, fine. Thank you. I promise I’ll take great care of it.”

I didn’t doubt it for a second. You took me by surprise because like a flash of light, you engulfed me and kissed me with need. I didn’t hesitate to reciprocate. In seconds I wrapped you in my arms and our clothes were nonexistent - dropped on the floor in a haste to make ourselves whole.

I will never get enough of you. Your little gasp of pleasure made my tummy fill with extreme need as I entered you and held you close. It was intimate, our love making sounds resounding in my room. You cupped my face, gently stroking as if I wasn’t real and you wanted to verify if I was really there, making love to you.

“I’m here. I got you, sweetheart.”

And I was never letting you go.

-

The frantic 2AM call took me by surprise. It woke me from the deep slumber I was in, but the moment I saw your name on my screen, I didn’t hesitate to disconnect my phone from its charger and answer. I called your name in question and your distraught voice I heard next.

It was distressing, hysterical.

“Namjoon? I didn't know who else to call, but - but can you please come? I - I need your help, I don’t know what I di - he’s not fucking moving -he’s not answering i just pushed him and-

“Breathe, I’m on my way okay, just stay there. Don’t move.”

I don’t think I have ever sped the way I did making my way to you. As I parked my car on the side of the abandoned road, behind the white car with its hazards flashing bright, I knew something had happened.

Something terrible that you had done.

It wasn’t until I stepped out of my vehicle that I saw his limped body on the asphalt, a puddle of scarlet blood oozing from his head. You sat at his side with your knees inside your chest and with your frizzy hair at the front of your face, you looked up at me slowly. “He’s dead.”

-

I would’ve never thought I’d have to get rid of a dead body. A part of me felt disgusted as the monstrous act I had done devoured me whole, but I didn’t feel… guilt.

The immense jealousy that raged within me kept me from doing so. You met him, the bastard that made me cry after I made you mine for the first time, JiHoon, on a deserted road to enjoy hiding your dirty little secret: your adulterous little soul. I wished I understood why you felt the need to run into the arms of another when you had Jimin, you had me and god only knew how many others.

But even then, I still wanted you, through your imperfections and your need to want other men even though they caused me absolute agony. Good riddance to the bludgeoned man who crossed your path. He forced himself on you and there was only one way the night was going to end.

I’d done it to protect you, to keep you sane and perhaps even have you to myself.

The night bound us as one. A clandestine service that we would take to our deaths.

After I placed the cold corpse into my trunk, I took the tiny packet of white substance that laid on the concrete ground, and placed it inside my jeans. It was a good thing you both came in your car. There wouldn’t be any suspiciousness, hopefully, and we’d forget about this illicit night.

“Go home.” I said in seriousness, taking a hold of you by the nape of your hair. I was angry at you that I couldn’t even look you in the eye. “I’ll take care of him.”

You nodded and sniffled, cupping my hand and gently rubbed. “Thank you.”

And with a start of the engine, you raised your window up, and drove away.

-

“Namjoon!” Your mothers voice made my body jerk from surprise. I was on edge, it was human and I wanted nothing more than to get out of the situation I knew would take a while to get rid of. Your mother loved to talk.

“Hello.” I muttered with an empty smile. Your home smelled divine with the aroma of freshly made food, but I didn’t have an appetite. Who would?

“Will you join me today? My sweetheart of a daughter isn’t feeling too well. She came home reeking of god knows what and emptied her guts as soon as she stepped foot in the door.” With a shake of her head, she took a seat, gulping down the glass of wine in an instant.

If only she knew that her ‘sweetheart of a daughter’ wasn’t such a sweetheart after all. She had a dirty little secret and I was her accomplice.

“No. I apologize. I had a long night. I only wish to go to bed, if you do not mind.” I felt terrible for turning her down, but the only thought in my mind was to see you. To nurse you back to health even when I knew that you were traumatized by what you have done.

Your mother sighed and shrugged. “I understand. Have a good night.”

“Do you mind if I go see her? I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

She smiled. “Of course.”

I didn’t have to be told twice. My long legs took me there in seconds and as soon as I walked inside your bedroom, I took a seat beside you. You laid there on your side, your eyes red and swollen from the tears that were nonstop. “Can you lay with me, please?”

Who was I to not obey? I took you onto my chest, cupping your wet cheeks onto my hands. “Shh, baby. It’s okay.”

You muttered as you sobbed. “I - I’m sorry, I didn’t mea -“

“Shh, I know. You did nothing wrong, my love. But I want you to promise something, can you do that?”

You nodded. “You can’t speak to anyone about this, okay? No matter how much you want to. You weren’t there, do you hear me? I wasn’t there.”

Shakily, you breathed and nodded once again. “I understand.”

“But now you know why not to do such a thing, hm? It’s not okay. You’re lying to me, to Jimin all for what? You did something that you will never forgive yourself for, but I want you to know that I will do it all over again, for you. Do you understand?”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

—

After you slept like an angel wrapped around my arms, I left, not wanting your mom to come into your room and find us wrapped around each other.

I had trouble falling asleep, but soon thereafter, sleep found me and I slept soundly. I couldn’t believe I had. Ian hadn’t even crossed my mind. The scoundrel was six feet under and he’ll remain there where no one was to find him. Good riddance.

But you, you would never be the same. You were a murderer. An angel of death that brought a man to his knees for the simple act of crossing your path. And it seemed I was following the same path, I wasn’t dead, but when you would betray me, I would feel death dawn on me, getting closer and closer with every treachery you committed. But yet, you would bring me to cloud nine. How? I would never understand.

But I understood that I loved you. I love you like I have never loved anyone before. And though it suffocated me and drowned me, I always went back for more. I will always go back for more.

“Good morning.” I smiled, pecking the crown of your head as you sat with your legs crossed in the dining room, a fork at your fingertips, playing with the food on the plate. Your mother was gone, no doubt picking up an early shift at the local hospital, but as the doting mother that she was, she had left breakfast at the ready for you.

You gave me a tight lipped smile that made me frown. Your eyes were swollen, almost hollow when you looked at me. He was haunting your mind, his shadow following you, no doubt. But even when I knew, I had to ask. I couldn’t bear the thought of you in pain.

“How are you holding up?”

You shrugged, biting your lips. “I don’t know. Is it weird that I don’t know what I’m actually feeling? I can’t explain it, even though I really really want to.”

“It’s okay to feel that way. You went through something… traumatic, and you won’t bounce back from it as soon as possible. It takes time, but I promise as time continues, it’ll get easier.”

You eyed me. “How do you know that?”

You skeptical little, beautiful thing.

“…I am just placing myself in your shoes, I tend to do that in certain situations. Would you like more breakfast?”

You shook your head, taking one last bite of the egg before standing up. “No, thank you. I'm meeting with Jimin.”

You moved, making your way up the stairs as my jaw clenched in anger, and my words made you stop in your tracks. “Jimin, hm? I - I thought you were ending things with him.”

You turned with furrowed brows, “I never said that.” Will this be the first time I’d feel your fury towards me? It was obvious I’d pushed a button.

“No? I thought the night before might’ve been an answer to your actions. You no longer love him. You have proved it time and time again, have you not?”

“You don’t know shit, Namjoon. I love hi-“

I couldn’t help it, I was infuriated by your nonsense comment that you didn’t mean. “You’re cheating on him with me! You have multiple times. And don’t even get me started on the man that you killed last night because I’m sure you weren’t there only for the coke, or am I wrong? Hm? Why in the hell do you still go back to him!”

“Because I can, Namjoon. Because I can. And it’s none of your fucking business anyway!”

“Yesterday was my business. You had no one else to call because you don’t trust anyone. You trust me! Not Jimin, not even the friends you don’t have, not even your own mother!”

I struck a cord. I gasped when you hurled a glass cup my away and I only managed to move away immediately before it struck me.

“Fuck you, Namjoon! Fuck you!” And with that, you walked away, grabbing your keys from the bowl near the door and slamming the door with such force that it shook the walls.

I stood there paralyzed and it wasn’t until I noticed that my body was shivering with anger? With distress? I couldn’t tell, but I was crying. The tears fell freely after being locked inside for what seemed like years and with blurry vision, I grabbed the broom and picked up your mess that your temper had caused.

That’s what I started to do ever since I met you: pickup after you and the disarray you left behind, and perhaps even myself. You left me in shambles and before I knew it, I was on the ground, on my knees as my shoulders shook from the sobs that escaped my chest.

And there, on the ground, in the depths of hell I felt I was in, I knew you had dug your grave. I loved you with everything I had, but this couldn’t go on any longer.

You had made your choice and I couldn't change your mind.

If I can’t have you, then you will not have anybody else.

-

The anonymous tip came in at midnight. I could see the blinding blue lights coming from the front yard of your house even where I resided.

Three police vehicles made themselves welcome in your yard, and I only knew exactly what was happening. Your mothers voice was louder than usual, hysterical as the officers handcuffed you and declared you your rights, walking you out onto the awaiting SUV. I made myself known, asking with faux concern and holding your mother’s shoulders as she cried, almost wanting to drag herself over to you.

There were tears in your eyes once I finally looked at you. You knew it was me and I held absolute pride even when I truly felt for you. But there was something more important in my eyes that you instantly understood.

My menacing and threatening look in my gaze. I had your mother in my grasp and if you wanted to see her once again - behind bars of course, you’d do best to keep quiet about what I had done. What I did for YOU.

Did you really think I would’ve done such a thing for you without looking out for me? I knew exactly the type of person you were, but yet, I still fell for you deeply, like no else had done - like Jimin never did.

I knew where JiHoons’ body was placed, I knew absolutely everything, and I knew enough not to wipe away your DNA from his body, your hair that I took a hold of after I told you to go home when you murdered him in cold blood.

I placed you on such a high pedestal and I despised knowing that it took me such a long time to comprehend such a thing. But I still loved you so much.

The moment I set my sight on you, I viewed you as an angel fallen from above, a beautiful creature that did no wrong.

But you weren’t an angel.

You were my hell on earth. Though you brought me to such highs, you brought me to a low, and saddened mess. Your loyal puppeteer that you knew you could manipulate just as you wanted because you knew the hold you had on me.

But you made a mistake with me and though I loved you, you had a price to pay.

It’s what you deserved.

Much love.

- Kim Namjoon.

[mysleeangel]

Time to withdraw from everything and everyone lmfaoooo I’m fine, I’m not triggered, I’m still sexy and mysterious and I’m not going to cut myself again!!!!! I’m not going to cut myself again lmfao lmfao lmfao lmfao

[delidelicate]

୨୧‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿୨ ♡ ୧‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿୨୧

I'd look cute as hell with your name

carved into my skin. 🔪

୨୧‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿୨ ♡ ୧‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿୨୧

[bangtaninborderland]

MYG - Music To My Heart.

Part 2.

You knocked on his studio door, once, twice and then when he didn’t answer you knocked a much firmer third.

The door swung open, the older man grunting about not wanting to be disturbed, that is until he sees you. His frown evened out as his lips turned into a subtle smile.

“You came? Is everything okay?” He stepped aside, giving you the go-ahead to enter the room.

You sat down in his chair, which had been pushed into the far corner almost as if he wanted to distance himself from the computer. “I’m okay, you are not.”

He rolled his eyes closing the door, taking a seat on the couch opposite you. “I am, if Jimin called you then you should have ignored it.”

“He said you swore at him.” You raise your eyebrows, Yoongi was never one to raise his voice, he wouldn’t be afraid to use an insult or two but no one ever took it personally.

“I’m just stuck okay? You know what I get like whenever I have a block.” His gaze falls to his fingers as he picks the skin around the nail, something your recognised a long time ago as being something he did because of his anxiety.

You sighed walking over to him, sitting yourself in his lap. His hands ceased their silent attack on one another in favour of resting on your hips. “We talked about this yoon. You have to rest otherwise you’ll get burnt out.”

“It’s not like that this time, I nearly have it. I can feel it there I just don’t know how to bring those thoughts forward. I even tried meditating.” He defends himself, his voice cutely raising a pitch.

You but your lip in hopes of hiding your smile. “You tried meditating.”

“Jimin caught me and told me he would post it on Weverse if I didn’t go home.” He scowled.

You remember how jimin had been vague earlier on the details that prompted Yoongis' outburst. “That explains why he was so shady when he called me.”

“You have got to stop listening to any member in the maknae line, I swear they only exist to make you babysit me.” He laughs resting his head against your shoulder.

You let him sit there for as long as he needs, his breathing grows quiet as does everything else in the room. You relax alongside him, your own head resting against his as you run your hand through his long black hair. After a while, you begin to hum, something you often did to occupy the space between you and him.

You almost fall off his lap as he sits up, pushing you off his lap. “What the fuck Yoongi?!” You shout throwing his shooky pillow at him.

“That hum.” He sits in his chair his fingers rushing across the keyboard as if his thought was going to escape him any minute. “What was that hum?”

You lean forward, a little confused. “I don’t know it was just something I made up as I went along.”

“Could you do it again but into the mic?”

“Min Yoongi if you want me to feature on your song that will be 5 million.”

“Won?” He asks, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Dollars.” You giggle, tiptoeing over to him.

“Never gonna happen but I’ll let you braid my hair.” He extends a hand to which you shake playfully.

You shake your head in disbelief as you walk over to the microphone, waiting for him to signal the okay before humming the same tune. He had you do it a few more times before asking you to hum another one but this time quieter.

“I think I have an idea for some lyrics.” He explains to you, extending a hand to call you back to him.

You could see the earlier tension in his shoulders were no more. “I hope I helped.”

“You did Sweetheart. How about you go and get us some dinner and meet me at home in say an hour? I’ll get some lyrics recorded and meet you at home.”

You knew this was him gently explaining he needed his space to work and you were more than happy to give him that, he went to hand you his card as you slipped on your shoes but you declined. As much as you would both joke about it you always were equal. Of course, there were things he could afford to do that you couldn’t but you always did your best to contribute fairly.

On days like today when your Boyfriend was stressed and overwhelmed you liked to treat him the same way he, did you. You requested that the driver he had arranged to take you home stop at Yoojung Sikdang.

Yoongi had talked about wanting food there for months, it was always way too busy and it was an attraction that army would frequently visit, it being the restaurant bangtan had used during their debut days.

You had met the owner a few times, she knew who you were but no one else did which allowed you the ability to pick up yoongis favourite dish from the restaurant.

You got home pretty fast which is why you were surprised to see Yoongis shoes by the door. The sound of the refrigerator opening alerts you to his location.

You managed to slide off your shoes and carry the many boxes safely into the kitchen without dropping anything.

“Hey baby do you wa- you did not.” His eyes widen in disbelief as he focuses on the box’s logo.

“I thought you deserve an old comfort.”

“What did you get?” He practically throws the box open in excitement.

“black pork and stone pot bibimbap and grilled black pork belly.”

He swings around faster than you could comprehend, his lips colliding with yours as his hands grip into your hair. He traces your jaw with kisses, leaving a mark just below your ear.

“If I knew you’d react like that I would have gone months ago.” You laugh, feeding him a piece of pork.

“Aish don’t be a brat.” He accepts the food, mumbling about how good it tastes.

You both laughed before taking another bite of food. You watched the man silently, his face seemingly happy. “How did it sound in the end?”

“Like music to my heart.”

You can’t help but blush as he winks at you, a hand squeezing your thigh before turning back to his meal. His own shyness laid out as he laughed into his bony hands.

Yoongi wasn’t the easiest person, it took you a long time to understand him but you were thankful that you took the time to, you couldn’t imagine your life without the man. His random spurts of energy, his focus and dedication, his passion, the way he loves and the way he wants to be loved are all things you never thought you’d love about a person, funnily enough, they are all the things you love about him.