yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

Omg bestie do you know what a masterpiece of an ff you have just produced. I am blushing mess right now🫣

Also while we are at it let me just say this that nobody...I mean nobody can write yoongi ffs the way you do. You are the queen mother to us yoongi ff reader's👑. When I read latibule for the first time my thoughts were that nothing can ever come close to this yoongi ff. But you changed that bestie...because I think that nothing can come close to this yoongi. He just keeps getting crazier in every ff and I am here for it. I mean the romance, his obsession with her, the unhinged behaviour, the possessiveness isjusttodiefor 😏. I love the part where my man pulls up an entire scenario, proposes to her, and then behaves like the good boy that he is🤧😏. And the scene where he just unizips her.....😏😏😏😏🔥🔥🔥🔥

Honestly when you put up the poll and when I read the preview of this story I felt that it should have been namjoons ff(even though I voted for yoongi). But now that I have read this I say only yoongi could have done justice. The yoongi here is a perfect mix of his cutie patootie personality and august d's savageness. Kudos to you ma'am for writing him so well. He just keeps getting crazier with every ff of yours and I am here for it😗😤

Please please please please please please please please please post the next part of this soon. But also remember to take care of yourself and enjoy the holiday season❤️

Love you bb. Tc💜💜

The Story of Us

Pairing: Mahwa Character!Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You wake up in the body of the second female lead in a manhwa, determined to rewrite your fate. No longer willing to be trapped in unrequited love for the elusive main lead, Min Yoongi, you set out to change the ending of the story. But leaving him behind isn’t as simple as you thought. As the lines between fiction and reality blur, the narrative begins to shift in unexpected ways—Yoongi, who was once only devoted to the main female lead, starts to see you in a new light. Can you escape the cycle of heartbreak, or will you find yourself entangled in a love story you never asked for?

or in which Yoongi found out you aren't from that world and refuses to let you leave.

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

A/N: Happy 6k to me!!! It's finally here. Those who already read the unedited fic know the scenes I added here... I went crazy again and wrote additional 3kish words. I hope you enjoy!

“Does self-love mean nothing for you?”

You commented lightly at the second female lead as you flipped the page. In your hand was the manhwa your friends were gushing about. They went on and on about how dreamy the main lead was for weeks and how annoying the second female lead was until you finally gave in and went to a bookstore one late night. The cover was unassuming, a mere illustration of a man with dark hair and a milky white skin. Despite the chatters of the few customers, it was like it all went silent when you held the manhwa in your hand. You had no rationale as to why you were staring so hard at the main lead, nor why you felt a jolt of electricity when you traced your finger on his face.

The sudden and inexplainable zap of electricity was enough for you to put the manhwa back to its shelf where it belonged. You had enough for today, you thought. It must be your late nights that finally got to you. You turned and started to walk away when you heard someone called your name.

“Are you not going to buy that?”

You blinked owlishly, turning to look your surroundings before realizing that the voice had come from behind you where an old woman with a pleasant smile on her face stood. You didn’t hear her walk, sure that it was only you in that section of the bookstore.

“Excuse me?” you asked in confusion with her sudden question.

She offered you a smile before reaching for the manhwa you were touching moments ago. “This. Are you not going to buy this?”

You glanced at the book in her hands, the cover innocuous enough—a pale-faced man with dark eyes, his expression unreadable, a haunting sort of beauty that seemed to shimmer under the dim light of the store. The same man whose face had burned into your mind the moment you’d traced your finger over it.

"Huh?" you muttered, not entirely sure what to say. "Oh, no... I—" You fumbled with your words, caught between politeness and that unsettling pull you couldn’t deny. “I’m just looking.”

She tilted her head slightly, her smile never wavering, but there was something deeper there now—an unreadable warmth and perhaps... a warning? "Such a shame. This is the last piece," she continued, her fingers running over the cover with a tenderness that made your heart race. "Are you sure you don’t want to enter his universe?"

You stared at her, perplexed. The bookstore was quiet again, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant murmur of other customers. But it felt like there was something else in the air now—something heavier. More alive.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket, breaking the strange tension that had settled between you and the clerk. You fumbled it out, your heart still racing. It was a text from one of your friends: "Did you finally get the manhwa? He's sooooo hot, right?!?"

You looked from your phone to the manhwa and there it was again. It was like something was calling you to touch the book. On the other hand, your flight or fight instinct had never been this high, urging you to walk away as soon as possible. The old woman’s gaze never left you, her expression still serene, as if she knew exactly what you were thinking. The tension between you felt palpable, like a tether was drawing you back to the book, back to the man on the cover.

"You know what, dear," she continued, her voice now almost conspiratorial, "since we're almost closing, it’s on the house. Let me wrap it up for you."

When you asked her why, it was a line you should have taken in face value.

She said that reading this will change your life.

All that was how you found yourself on your bed with the manhwa and feeling bad for the second female lead. Okay fine, she was not exactly kind. She was a bit bitchy and the typical rich kid who fell for her childhood friend who of course, fell for another woman below their stature. She devised devious ways to get the main female lead out of their lives which only managed to push Min Yoongi, the male lead character, away from her. She wanted him so badly, and she had nothing else to cling to. In the end, he left her alone when all she had was him.

She was left alone, Yoongi gone from her life, and all she had left were her schemes and bitterness. You couldn’t help but wonder what she could have been if she had just let go. If she had let him go, instead of holding on so tightly that she suffocated herself.

She wasn’t a villain, you told yourself, though you knew she was far from a saint.

It wasn’t that you were defending what she did. It was just that you felt for her, strangely. You had no family of your own too, and maybe that was why you held on to your friends. You thought that if you were as pretty and as wealthy as her, then you wouldn’t spend all your time and energy pining after Yoongi. You thought about her—so pretty, so polished—and you wondered, If I were her, would I have acted the same way? If you had that beauty, that wealth, that presence, would you still feel this same deep ache for someone who couldn’t love you back? Sure, he was all that. He was handsome, smart, and so manly. For a while, it was just the two of them in their little world until he met the female lead. But then again, if you were her, you would let them be and look for someone who would love you as you were. Surely, there was someone out there for her. You wondered if it would be easy to just walk away, you thought. But then, you didn’t know what it was like to have everything and still lose the one thing that mattered most. To feel like there was no one left who could make you feel whole.

The story was so intriguing with the right amount of suspense that kept you up all night. Despite you being a non-mahwa reader, you could not bring yourself to stop reading until you reached the ending.

The words of the final chapters echoed in your mind as you read through them. Yoongi’s happiness came at her expense, and as you turned the page, you saw the final blow: She died. She died because Yoongi decided to save the main female lead from drowning instead of his childhood friend. Just like that. No grand redemption, no change of heart. She was gone. “Of course, she dies,” you murmured in annoyance as you flipped the page. “Was that really necessary for this Yoongi to get his happy ending?”

You put the manhwa down on your chest and looked up at your bedroom ceiling. You felt tears forming in your eyes and before you knew it, they were streaming down your cheeks and onto the manhwa. “Poor you. You deserved better,” you whispered as sleep took you away.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next time you opened your eyes, it felt like you were in a dream. More precisely, you woke up to a familiar room. You just couldn’t place it yet where you saw this room before. You sat up from the most comfortable bed you had ever been on, your eyes roaming over the whole room. Where were you?

You looked down and noticed that you were wearing a silk sleepwear…You didn’t own this. In fact, you never liked it because you couldn’t afford it. Did someone dress you in this? Were you kidnapped?

Panic surged through you like a wave, a cold knot tightening in your stomach. The thought alone pushed you to stand up quickly, your head turning rapidly to every corner of the room when a mirror across the room caught your eye. You walked over, unsure of what you were even looking for, but the reflection that met you made your heart stop.

Holy shit.

You froze in front of the mirror, your breath caught somewhere between disbelief and panic. The face staring back at you was undeniably familiar but was definitely not yours. It was her—the woman from the manhwa.

Your hand lifted slowly, as if drawn by an invisible force, and touched your cheek, tracing the delicate curve of your jaw. The reflection mimicked your every move, except there was no mistake: it wasn’t you. This version of you was flawless—her skin porcelain smooth, her lips full and painted in a soft, understated pink. You blinked hard, willing the image to change, but it remained the same, impossibly perfect.

And then it hit you, harder than any realization should have: You were in her world. You were in her body. You were the second female lead.

What the fuck was this dream?!

You pinched yourself, willing yourself to wake up from this peculiar dream where you were not you, and instead, you were someone of a fictional character. All that it did was reddened her fair skin. You truly tried not to panic, but no one and nothing could have ever prepared you from waking up in someone else’s body! More so of a fictional one. Similarly, you knew this could not be possible. You must have been dreaming.

You were just dreaming…right?

The knock on the door snapped you out of your stupor, your mind reeling as the panic tightened its grip.

“Miss? Sir Yoongi is here to see you,” the voice outside the door called, timid, hesitant.

You blinked, the words barely registering at first. Yoongi? No. No, no, no. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and the world around you seemed to tilt at an impossible angle. You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky, disbelieving breath.

"Y-yoongi?" Your voice sounded strange, foreign in this body, yet with an edge of authority, the voice of someone accustomed to being looked at, obeyed.

“N-no. Why?”

“T-to visit you, Miss. He went straight here from the airport after his three-month work in New York,” she explained with a terrified tone in her voice as though one wrong word would upset you. It did upset you upon horrifying realization that you were in the first chapter of the manhwa. He was coming to see the second female lead, the one who would only ever be a part of his life for the briefest, most painful moments. The one who would disappear when the main female lead entered the picture, leaving behind nothing but heartache and regret.

This was the moment—the beginning of her unraveling. The beginning of your unraveling.

You stumbled back from the mirror, almost tripping over the hem of the silk nightgown that clung to your skin. It felt wrong. This wasn’t your body. This wasn’t you. You couldn’t be her. You couldn't.

But there you were—she was—standing in front of a mirror, and it was your face that stared back, the same face that would soon be abandoned in favor of the main lead. The face that would die tragically, just as Yoongi chose someone else.

A cold sweat broke out on your skin as you pressed your hand to your chest, feeling your heart race, the pulse throbbing in your throat. The maid outside the door was waiting. She was waiting. Yoongi was waiting.

“Miss? Are you coming?” The maid asked again, sounding more nervous now. “Sir Yoongi is waiting.”

You felt your legs walked to where the door was as though they had a mind of their own, as though they were simply following the plot where you had to face her childhood bestfriend, as though you had no choice in this. The door creaked as it slowly opened, and the maid stepped back with a small, nervous bow. “Miss,” she murmured softly, her eyes flicking between you and the hallway.

There he was. Yoongi. Standing in the hallway, waiting for you.

His broad back was turned to you, his focus was on the huge window overlooking the garden below. His hands were in his pockets. You couldn’t help but notice the bags of designer clothes and jewelries beside him. It was always like this. Yoongi would spoil her with everything, his love a quiet promise wrapped in material things. His affection was given in expensive packages, just because he missed her. It was a thing the main lead, Yoongi, and her had for the longest times. He spoiled her rotten, and in turn, she loved him unconditionally until he realized that it wasn’t her love that he wanted. It was someone else’s.

You felt your chest tighten as you stepped forward, closer to him. And then, slowly, he turned around, his gaze landing on you, his eyes sharp and calculating, as though he was seeing you for the first time. He was just as handsome as you'd imagined, his sharp features bathed in the soft light of the chandelier overhead. His expression, however, was unreadable—his usual aloofness on full display. He had on a simple black jacket, the sleeves rolled up slightly, revealing his forearms.

He was standing there, just as he had been in the manhwa—distant, untouchable, and perfect. The kind of person who seemed to have everything. Everything except the one thing that would make him whole. His lips curved into a faint smirk, the usual aloofness settling over him like a second skin. Yoongi. So damn confident. So certain of himself. Yet there was something flickering beneath that exterior, something you couldn't place.

He took a step toward you, his gaze unwavering, and for a moment, everything felt too heavy, too real. The space between you both seemed like an eternity, but somehow you couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.

He raised his brows when you remained motionless – so dissimilar to how the second female lead threw herself in his arms in the first chapter. “What?” he said, his voice a quiet challenge. “Didn’t you miss me?”

His words hit you like a cold wave. Didn’t you miss me?

The phrase was so familiar, but it made you flinch. It was the same thing he had said to her. The second female lead. Her. The woman you had now become. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his gaze leaving you paralyzed. How were you supposed to feel? What was the right answer?

Yoongi’s smirk deepened as he took another step closer, his presence commanding the space between you both. He wasn’t giving up.

“Aigoo,” he muttered, as though your silence had amused him. “Is my princess mad at me?” He reached out, cupping your cheeks in his hands and squishing them gently, his thumb brushing across your skin in a familiar, playful gesture. “I promise I won’t be away for that long again, okay?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. My princess. Mad at me? It was just like the manhwa. Just like how the second female lead had fallen for him—how she’d craved his affection, how she had convinced herself that he was the only one who could make her whole.

How could she not fall for him? How could she not love him when he was this—this?

See, who wouldn’t fall for that? You understood the second female lead for falling in love with him, or why she did all those terrible things when he suddenly withdrew all his affections from her. But maybe…you could change the ending. Maybe you could find a happy ending of your own away from him. You could choose differently. You could walk away. You could find your own path, away from him, away from this tragic loop. Maybe—just maybe—there was a way for you to have a happy ending. Not the one written in the manhwa, but one you could choose. One where you didn’t lose yourself in the love of a man who could never return it.

What if you and him could all have your separate happy endings?

But also, what if this was just a dream where you’d wake up later and be in your own bed?

It was almost a week later when you realized that this wasn’t a dream. Despite repeatedly pinching yourself, you still couldn’t wake up from this nightmare. You hadn’t gone out of your room since Yoongi visited, and all messages and calls from him were promptly ignored.

You couldn’t even rule out that you were actively going insane because there was no way that this was now your reality. Something inside you was telling you to do something. It was urging you to fight, to survive, not matter how difficult it would be. It was proven when he visited you and you had no control over what happened. However, you also noted that you could do things somehow differently like not hugging him when he visited, or not being affectionate to him.

There were canon events, yes. There were things that should happen as were already dictated by the manhwa. But you also had a will in this story. And if there was a chance that this was your new reality, then you would do absolutely everything to make sure that you end up living.

You had to be smart. You had an edge, you surmised. You read the entire manhwa and you knew what was going to happen. You knew what to anticipate. And the next scene? The next scene was where Yoongi met the female lead and it would be in a charity ball you and him were attending.

You were dressed to the nines, your makeup was impeccable. Around your neck was one of the second female lead’s extravagant necklaces. The dress that she chose was immaculate, a light-colored floor-length gown that would later on be ruined by the female lead’s accident in the ball. You looked down from the unfamiliar eyes staring back at you in the mirror as your maid informed you that the car was waiting downstairs. You got this.

You weren’t used to her life of extravagance and you could feel a shot of anxiety pumping in your veins as the car neared the event. You could see reporters and cameramen lining up to capture the entrance of the wealthiest of the wealthiest. Nothing in your life could have prepared you for this. You were not a confident person…but she was. You only needed to get through this night and then slowly let the events happened. You would let the two of them fall in love with each other like it needed to be.

“We’re here, miss,” your driver announced, meeting your eyes from the rearview mirror. You took a deep breath and counted to three.

1…2…3-

The door opened and just when you opened your eyes, there he was.

Camera flashes illuminated the scene from his back, yet his focus was on you. His hand was outstretched, waiting for you to reach for it. But damn it, Min Yoongi was impeccable. Just like you, he was dressed to the nines with his tailored dark suit and his brushed up dark hair. He was the epitome of what a main lead should look like. Still, you couldn’t fault both the main and second female lead for falling in love with that face. If only you weren’t trying to stay alive, then you would most probably fall for that face, too.

Too bad you were trying to stay alive.

The weight of the moment settled heavily on your chest as you stared at his outstretched hand. The flashes of the cameras were relentless, their bursts creating a kaleidoscope of light and shadow that painted Yoongi's face with an almost ethereal glow. His dark eyes bored into yours, and for a split second, the world seemed to pause.

You hesitated, your hand hovering just out of reach. This was one of those moments, wasn't it? One of the canon events you couldn’t avoid. Taking his hand was expected, a necessary step to ensure the night unfolded as the manhwa demanded. Yet, the knowledge didn’t make it any easier.

“I don’t think you can hide from me now, princess,” Yoongi’s voice was soft but firm. In fact, there was no annoyance in his tone, only a quiet patience as though you didn’t spend the past days dodging him in every turn.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to push past the whirlwind of nerves. You had to remember who you were now—or at least who you were pretending to be. She wouldn’t falter, wouldn’t hesitate. She was poised, confident, the kind of woman who could command a room with a single glance. She was a woman who knew the power she had over society.

Plastering on a polite smile, you placed your hand in his. His fingers were warm, steady, and for a moment, the contact felt grounding. You couldn’t help but notice how his hand completely engulfed yours, how he made your hands seemed dainty in comparison to his. He helped you out of the car with a practiced grace, his touch lingering for a fraction longer than necessary. You didn’t want to dwell on the fact that you felt the same electricity that you did when you first touched the manhwa.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear it.

You knew you had no choice as he guided you up the grand entrance. This was a canon event. The canon event leading up to their meeting. You had to play your part if you wanted to not experience dying in her body.

The flashes of cameras almost blinded you had it not been for Yoongi’s broad back that shielded you from them. The two of you stopped in the middle to smile for the camera, a PR thing Yoongi had to do for his company. His hand rested on the small of your back, gently pushing you closer to him. You knew what would happen like the back of your hand, and just as written, one of the reporters asked him to define his relationship status with you.

She’s the most important woman in my life.

“She’s the most important woman in my life,” Yoongi declared with unwavering sincerity, his deep voice resonating through the flashes and murmurs of the crowd. As he looked down at you, his lips curved into that signature, disarming smile—the kind that could melt even the coldest of hearts.

The ball was just as grand as you imagined. It was apparent that the rich spared no expense in this and you couldn’t imagine that you would experience this in your life. Yoongi’s gaze lingered on you, an unreadable expression flickering in his eyes as he watched you take it all in. There was something almost amused about the way he observed you, though he said nothing. It was almost comical to him how you were impressed with this when the friend he knew practically grew up in this extravagance. You were in awe at the intricate details, the food and drink being served, and the expensive jewelries that would be auctioned tonight.

“What do you want me to bid for?” Yoongi asked, his voice low and smooth as he tipped his wineglass to his lips, his dark eyes not straying from you.

You let out a short chuckle, already knowing what to say. “I want that old ring the Queen once owned,” you answered monotonously. It was the most expensive item in the auction, and exactly the kind of thing the second female lead would desire. You, on the other hand, felt that it was ridiculous to desire something that was given by someone who dearly loved the Queen. Yoongi merely lifted his dark brow before nodding his head.

As always, her will was always his command– until it wasn’t.

The bidding war for the final piece, the ring, didn’t take that long as Yoongi continuously bidded ridiculously high amounts that the businessmen could not keep up with the younger man. Yoongi didn’t even flinch as the bids shot up. He stood there, effortlessly cool, his back straight and shoulders squared, his eyes locked on the auctioneer like a predator stalking its prey. The others tried to keep pace, their offers becoming desperate, their faces flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation as Yoongi continued to raise the stakes, his voice cold and assured as he increased his offer without hesitation.

In the end, Yoongi won. And it showed with the way he turned back to you, that same smirk still dancing at corner of his lips.

This was it.

This was the moment.

Yoongi was walking to you, his expression still that of a triumphant victor as he made his way to you. You couldn’t help but keep your eyes to him. The way his dark eyes were trained on you was captivating and you were captivated. It was as though you were the only one in this room to him, like all other people could disappear and he wouldn’t even blink. In fact, you were too captivated that you almost forgot what the next scene was.

But just as was written by the author, a waitress tripped, your light-colored dress now splashed with red wine, a stark contrast. The sound of glass breaking, the accident itself, was enough to silence the whole ballroom. Your mouth hanged agape as you looked down at your dress, and then slowly, you lift your eyes to the waitress.

Your eyes met the female lead’s. Hers was comically wide as she continuously apologized to you, her expression that of panic as her manager and more people flocked to where you were.

“What happened?” Yoongi’s voice was sharp, his usual calm replaced by a low, controlled edge. His hands clasped your arms with a firm but steady grip, his gaze darting between your face and the ruined fabric of your gown. The pristine, light-colored dress was now stained with crimson, the deep red wine soaking into the fabric and spreading like an ominous bloom.

Your eyes flicked back to the waitress—her—the female lead. Just as the manhwa dictated, there she was, the unassuming heroine, standing in front of you with wide, tear-filled eyes. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she stammered apology after apology, her hands trembling as she bent down to pick up the shards of broken glass at her feet. You saw her flinched.

“I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! Please forgive me, Miss!” she pleaded, her voice shaky and sincere. The panic on her face was painfully familiar. You’d read this scene before. You knew every word, every gesture.

And yet, being in it now, living it—felt different.

Your dress was ruined, yes, but more importantly, this was the moment. The one where Yoongi, the ever-distant, untouchable main lead, would first notice her. Where his protective instincts would be stirred, his curiosity piqued by her clumsy, honest nature. This was where it all began—their love story.

Except right now, he wasn’t looking at her. He was still looking at you

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, his brows furrowed as his thumb lightly grazed your arm, checking for any sign of injury. There was no recognition in his gaze for the woman kneeling at your feet, no acknowledgment of her presence.

You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. By now, he should have been helping her, offering her a reassuring smile, gently lifting her to her feet. That was what the script demanded

But here he was, his focus entirely on you.

“I…” Your voice faltered as your mind raced to adjust. You needed to steer this back on track. The story needed to progress, or everything could spiral out of control. “I’m fine. It’s just the dress,” you said, forcing your tone to be light, dismissive, as though the ruined gown didn’t matter.

Yoongi’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze hardening. “It’s not fine,” he said, his voice firm. He turned, his sharp eyes landing on the waitress. The poor girl visibly flinched under his scrutiny, her hands freezing mid-motion as she tried to gather the broken pieces.

“It was an accident,” you said quickly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his arm to stop him. “Yoongi, it’s fine.” Your words were deliberate, almost desperate. You needed him to look at her, to notice her, to play his part in the story.

He hesitated, his jaw tightening, but at last, his gaze shifted to the waitress. There it was—that flicker of recognition. The moment his eyes softened, his expression melting into something less severe.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her, his tone still carrying a note of authority, but the sharp edges were gone. This was it—the moment you’d been waiting for.

The girl shook her head quickly, her cheeks turning an even darker shade of red. “N-no, sir! I’m fine. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Enough,” Yoongi interrupted gently but firmly. He crouched down, his movements slow, deliberate, as he began picking up the shards of glass alongside her. The room seemed to collectively hold its breath, all eyes on the enigmatic businessman lowering himself to help a clumsy waitress. “Be careful. You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said with a much softer voice. His gaze lingered on her face, and it was apparent that you were now forgotten.

And there it was—their first connection. The moment the story truly began.

You exhaled slowly, stepping back as the crowd around you began to disperse, the murmurs of the guests returning to their usual buzz. This was how it had to be. You just had to step back now and let their love story grow.

You reached the balcony and you thanked heavens that you were alone. You breathed a sigh of relief, both for the gratitude that you were alone and for surviving that scene. You were looking up at the stars when you felt a suit jacket landed on your shoulders, safely engulfing you with warmth and against the cold night.

You turned, not knowing who to expect but he was definitely not it. You didn’t even know who he was.

The handsome man met your eyes before flashing you a charming smile of his own that was enough to disarm you. “What a shame…”

You blinked, confused by his sudden appearance, your heart still racing from the scene inside. "What is?" you asked, voice quieter than you'd intended, as your eyes darted back toward the ballroom doors.

"That your dress was ruined," he said smoothly, his tone playful, though his eyes seemed to hold something more—curiosity, maybe, or perhaps something deeper. "You were the most beautiful girl there. You managed to catch everyone’s attention when you entered the room– including mine."

Sputtering at his confidence, you felt your cheeks heated up from his statement. “Were?”

The side of his eyes crinkled as he looked at you. He couldn’t believe that the elusive and untouchable you were giving him the time of the day. You were always in Yoongi’s orbit, and everyone knew how powerful his family was. It was always the two of you in your own little world, and Yoongi was seldom far from you. It was the reason why suitors couldn’t reach you. No one needed the Min Yoongi for an enemy.

It was safe to say that the relationship between the two of you were always a question mark to the onlookers. In the world of the rich, the two of you should have been long engaged if that was the case. And a chance that Yoongi was far from you was not to be wasted. And so, he took the chance.

“You still are,” he breathed honestly. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were so magnificent and he understood why Yoongi was similar to a guard dog when it came to you. He extended his hand to you. “I’m Kim Taehyung.”

You only had to wait, but the waiting got boring. When you’d read the manhwa, the pacing had felt seamless, the love story unfolding with a rhythm that kept you turning the pages. Here, however, their love story took time.

It turned out that not only were you bored, but you were also extremely wealthy in this life. You rationalized that it would be okay to enjoy her life just a little.

Leaning on the balcony railing, you released your fifteenth sigh of the day, staring blankly at the sprawling estate below. Behind you, the ever-dutiful maid hovered, hands clasped nervously in front of her. Her expression flickered between concern and trepidation, as though bracing for one of the infamous tantrums her mistress was known for. Lately, though, you’d given her nothing of the sort—no sharp words, no impatient outbursts. That, in itself, seemed to unsettle her.

However, another sigh from you finally prompted her to ask you what was wrong.

Her eyes widened, startled by the question. “I… I suppose I’d pay off my family’s debts,” she admitted, voice small. “It’s been weighing on us for years.”

“How much?” you asked, your tone casual, as though inquiring about the weather.

“Three million,” she murmured, her cheeks coloring as though the very amount embarrassed her. “But I couldn’t possibly—”

“Consider it done,” you interrupted breezily, waving off her protests. “Next?”

“Maybe…I’d go to Paris?”

You nodded, your eyes gleamed as the spark of inspiration ignited within you. A brilliant, slightly impulsive idea. “That’s perfect. Grab your passport.”

It turned out that Paris was also someone’s favorite place.

You were sitting in a café one late afternoon, willing the time to pass by quickly so you could return to your life as evidenced by your poor attempt at reading a book when the chair in front of you was suddenly occupied. With your peace suddenly gone, you looked up and met his eyes. He was smiling at you, his dark hair brushed away from his face, so dissimilar to how formal he looked when you met him.

“We must stop meeting like this.”

He chuckled at your expression before he leaned in on the table. “In Paris, of all places. I have to say, this is starting to look like fate.”

Who was he exactly?

You tried to rack your brain of his scenes in the manhwa, and you had been ever since you met him in that ball. He wasn’t supposed to be in the scene…or was it possible that that happened behind the scene when the focus wasn’t on you, but on Yoongi and the female lead?

“Do you believe in fate, Mr. Kim?” you titled you head in curiosity, looking at him intently for any sort of familiarity that may come your way.

“I do and I don’t. I think that fate is an abstract concept that no man can ever define. There are some things that we are just too powerless to stop; and there are some things that we are too powerful to accept,” he stated with a smile on his face. “You’re here because of fate, Y/N. Don’t you think so?”

“What?”

Taehyung chuckled and patiently waited as the waiter placed his cup of hot chocolate on the table. “I think that you’re fated to be here at this exact moment.”

“What are you saying, Taehyung?”

“I’m saying, have dinner with me tonight.”

It was your second week in Paris when curiosity finally got the better of you. On the other hand, you could say that the past few days were one of the most interesting days of your life. You never knew that that little dinner with Taehyung could result to you gaining a true friend here. He was interesting, quirky, wise, and full of life. You also learned that he went to the same school as the original second female lead and Yoongi attended, and that he could never befriended you before because Yoongi was always with you. He offhandedly noted that it was so rare for him not to be with you when before, wherever you went, he would follow. Speaking of the character that you assumed, her phone—your phone now—sat untouched on the marble nightstand of your hotel suite. You’d avoided it so far, reasoning that it felt like rifling through a stranger’s diary. But tonight, as the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower illuminated the room, you gave in.

Plugging it in, the device vibrated to life, and a flood of notifications lit up the screen. Your jaw dropped slightly as you skimmed through the endless stream of missed calls and messages. Most of them were from Yoongi.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, scrolling through the list. There were texts, voicemails, and even some emails from him, all timestamped over the last two weeks.

His messages started casual enough, asking you where you were and if you were still avoiding him. He even stopped by the mansion only to find out that you weren’t there, let alone in the country. Not one in your mansion could tell him where you were despite his endless threats. As days passed by, however, his tone shifted to frustration.

I’m not kidding anymore. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming to find you.

I am hiring a team to find you, princess.

His final message was dated today.

I do hope you remember that it is my birthday today. We always celebrate it together. We’re not gonna stop now just because you’re hiding from me.

You stared at the phone for a moment longer, the screen dark now but somehow still demanding your attention. Should you respond? What would you even say?

The phone vibrated in your hand, the screen lighting up with his name. Your stomach did a little flip, but you shook your head firmly. No. You weren’t going to answer. It was better this way—for him, for you, for the storyline. Yoongi belonged with the female lead, and the longer you stayed out of their orbit, the better. If you wanted to live, you had to do the opposite of what the second female lead did.

Instead, you grabbed your jacket, ready to explore the city some more with Taehyung. Paris was too beautiful to waste time fretting over a fictional man’s messages. Let Yoongi wait.

But just as you opened your hotel room, there he was with his signature stoic face, his dark brow raised. He pointedly looked at your phone, his name on the screen. He had his phone on his ear, while you had yours in your hand. You were literally caught red-handed ignoring his calls.

He ended the call with a deliberate tap and tucked his phone into his pocket, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Going somewhere?”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shocked at his sudden appearance. He was supposed to be with her. The story said that he was supposed to be with her, celebrating with her, saving her from any other accidents or situations she found herself in. You did your part by staying the hell away from them….so why was he here?

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” His tone was calm, but the edge was unmistakable. He stepped inside as though he owned the place. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t wait for an invitation. He was just… there, filling the room with his presence like he always did. “And Paris, of all places? You’re more predictable than you think, princess.”

“I-I mean, I didn’t think you’d notice,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, already regretting how ridiculous it sounded.

“What? How could I not? You literally disappeared on the face of the earth. You think I wouldn’t notice when you disappeared? When you’re not there?”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily stunned, your thoughts scrambling for coherence. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here…” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your disbelief bled into your words, your mind struggling to reconcile his presence with what you knew—or thought you knew. “The story says you’re supposed to be with her. This isn’t—this isn’t how it goes.”

“What story?”

You blinked owlishly, realizing what you’d said. “Huh? Nothing!” you exclaimed a little too quickly, waving your hands as if to physically push the moment away. “Anyway! Happy birthday!” you added, your voice unnaturally bright, hoping to distract him.

His squint deepened, a mix of curiosity and frustration flickering in his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy your deflection, but he let it slide—for now. Without a word, he crossed the room to the small bar cart in the corner, casually pouring himself a glass of whisky.

The tension in the air was thick as he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his movements deliberate. He raised the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. You could practically see the wheels turning in that intelligent brain of his as he sized you up. After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke, his voice low, “Glad you remember my birthday, princess.”

Okay, fine. You were at loss. How were you supposed to know what you should say? This was not in the manhwa! Yoongi was basically going off-script!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned your gaze to the door, silently willing him to leave. But Yoongi didn’t move. If anything, he seemed more determined, his presence as unyielding as ever.

“Fine,” he said after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “If you won’t come back, then I’ll stay. Paris is nice this time of year, isn’t it?”

He stuck by you like a shadow and he all but bought the entire hotel floor. He was adamant on spending every moment with you. The most baffling part? He still kept in touch with her. He called, he texted, he checked in on the female lead—but here he was, right beside you, refusing to leave. It made no sense. To add confusion to the mix, Yoongi kept on shooting dark glares at your phone whenever it chimed from Taehyung’s messages and he felt himself getting irritated. He wondered who was brave enough to message you when no one used to before except him.

You had been away for him for just a short time and yet, he felt like you were so far away already, like something shifted, like your entirety changed. It was like you were not the best friend he used to have.

You looked down at your phone as soon as it chimed again and you couldn’t help but chuckled at the silly selfie he took with a duck. You were too engrossed in your phone that you missed the way Yoongi gripped his utensils. You and him hadn’t spent time together since you were so busy evading him and now that he finally caught up with you, your attention was somewhere else.

Why were your attention not on him?

Who was stealing your attention away from him?!

Was this how you punished him because of his current fling?

The sound of Yoongi’s sharp exhale pierced the air, and you glanced up just in time to see his fingers grip the edge of his glass with more force than was necessary. His jaw was tight, his eyes narrowed—not at the phone in your hand, but at you. He didn’t say anything, but the silence between you both was thick with something unspoken, a tension you had been drowning in since he followed you here.

It wasn’t that you wanted to ignore him, but the truth was... you didn’t know how to deal with this version of Yoongi. The one who wasn’t following the script. The one who was here in Paris, beside you, watching you laugh at Taehyung's ridiculous duck selfie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What’s so funny?” Yoongi’s voice was quiet, but it was sharp. He didn’t bother to look at your phone. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on your face, his eyes a shade darker, deeper than you remembered them being.

You blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in his mood. “Oh, nothing, just a ridiculous selfie from my friend,” you said, still chuckling to yourself. “He’s with a duck.”

“He?” His voice held a dry amusement, but there was an edge to it that made you uncomfortable.

You could feel the subtle tension thickening in the air, like the weight of a storm about to break. Yoongi's question hung between you like a spark in dry tinder. You shrugged, pretending to be casual, though the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. "Yes, he. My friend Taehyung," you said, not looking up from your phone.

But you could feel Yoongi’s eyes boring into you, every syllable of his next words like a tightening coil. “Taehyung,” he repeated, his voice cold and deliberate, as though testing the name on his tongue. His grip on his glass had tightened to the point where his knuckles were white, but it didn’t stop the slow, calculated sip he took, his gaze never leaving you.

The way he said his name made it seemed like your friendship with him was a mistake, a simple blunder on your end that shouldn’t have happened. It did feel like you stepped on a live mine, and you wondered why you were feeling like this when from what you knew about his character in the manhwa, Yoongi was a pure person. However, right now he felt like a dangerous one.

What were you supposed to do?

“You’re thirty now,” you said instead, steering the conversation away from an unfamiliar territory as you placed the phone facedown. The two of you were having brunch in a famous restaurant and you were thoroughly enjoying the croissant moments before the conversation turned sour.

He regarded you for a moment, fully aware of how you this was your sad attempt at changing the subject until he decided to put you out of misery. He nodded, waiting for you to make your point.

“You’re not getting any younger-”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “What’s the point of this conversation, princess? You’re starting to sound like my grandma." He paused, as if savoring the thought. "By the way, she keeps asking for you. Says, and I quote, ‘her favorite grandchild never comes to visit anymore.’ Not even a phone call. Meanwhile, I’m still here, the actual grandchild, and I get nothing."

His glare was sharp, but there was no real venom behind it—just the familiar teasing edge that made you both roll your eyes and laugh, despite yourself.

“W-well! I’m just concerned that you won’t have a wife and any children of your own and that you’d grow old alone! I’m just a friend expressing concern over her best and oldest friend…” you rationalized. Fine, you were having fun teasing him while nudging him in the right direction. Yoongi was fun to mess with, you thought, if he was being himself and not the confusing and quite off-putting mood he was in a while ago.

You thought that he would react the way you anticipated him to, that he would get defensive and after which, hopefully, that he’d go back to their love story.

He did none of those things.

Instead, Yoongi leaned in, his manly scent permeating. He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, all while looking at you. “Why are you saying that I’ll be alone when I have you?”

You blinked, trying to process what Yoongi had just said. His voice, low and warm, carried a weight that wasn’t there a moment ago. You wanted to laugh, to brush it off like the teasing banter you two always shared, but the way his dark eyes held yours made it impossible. “I have you for always, right, princess? You’re not going to leave me for someone…beneath us, right?”

What?

His words seemed like he was pointing to another thing, like what he was asking you was a promise to be set in stone and not a mere assurance on his part. What was the real second female lead to say in situation like this?

“O-of course! We’re best friends! N-now let’s get out of here. I saw this beautiful necklace in that shop. It’s going to look beautiful on her. Maybe if you buy her that, then she’d forgive you for spending your birthday away from her,” you joked to deflect him, standing up and gathering your purse to escape the situation you found yourself in before he could even blink.

Think, Y/N. Think.

You gripped the stem of your wine glass, staring blankly at the flickering candle in the center of the table. The plot was veering off course, drifting further from the original narrative you knew by heart. Yoongi wasn’t supposed to be here with you, his steady presence upending the delicate balance of the story.

The main lead wasn’t supposed to stay by your side like this

Across the room, Yoongi was speaking with one of his father’s acquaintances, his posture relaxed but exuding the quiet authority that came so naturally to him. It gave you a few precious moments to breathe—and to think.

Ever since Paris, Yoongi almost never let you out of his sight. He would spend every free time of his with you. You couldn’t even refuse because he would get so suspicious. His best friend never said no to him, he knew that. Your previous actions of distancing yourself from him resulted in him latching on to you. What could you do to push him in the right direction which was to be with her?

What was the next canon event?

And then it hit you.

The company gala. The turning point. That was when he would bring her, the female lead, into the lion’s den. His family’s icy disapproval, their sharp-edged words of disdain, and their outright rejection of his choice would culminate in a dramatic declaration. Yoongi would stand by her side, rebel against his family, and announce that she was the one he wanted to marry.

It was a pivotal scene. A non-negotiable in the grand arc of his story.

You exhaled shakily. If you could just steer him toward that event, everything will fall back into place. You just needed to figure out when it was happening now that the timeline was unraveling in ways you couldn’t predict.

You just had another problem, though. The man that was now walking back to you was acting like someone who had his heart set on another, so unlike the Min Yoongi from the manhwa who only had eyes for her. His attention was unwavering, but it should not have been pointed to you but to her. The way his gaze softened whenever he looked at you, his refusal to leave your side—it was all wrong. None of it fit.

“Sorry about that,” Yoongi’s voice broke through your thoughts as he returned to the table. He slid back into his seat, his sharp eyes scanning your face. “You okay? You look… distracted.”

You forced a smile, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Just lost in thought.”

“About what?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious, and the warmth in his gaze made your stomach twist. He did hope that your attention was not being diverted by someone he didn’t even want to mention. He couldn’t even understand why the thought of you with someone else didn’t sit right with him. He couldn’t understand why he had this urge to remove the pest away from you.

“Doesn’t you company have an annual gala? I was thinking of what to wear. When is it again?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink to hide your nerves.

He was looking at you as though deep in thought, as though you were forgetting something. He tilted his head to the side, “You know it’s always in December. You always choose your dress a year in advance, princess,” Yoongi said, his voice laced with mild curiosity. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied you. “Why? You’ve never been one to care much about those kinds of things before.”

Your breath caught at his words. You always choose your dress a year in advance, princess. The familiarity, the ease with which he said it, threw you off. That line—it didn’t belong here. Not in this timeline. Not in this version of the story where your role was supposed to be temporary, a placeholder in the grand narrative between him and her.

“Right,” you said, forcing a light laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Guess I forgot for a moment. Been busy, you know.”

Yoongi didn’t buy it. His gaze sharpened, a hint of amusement mingled with curiosity. “You? Forget? That’s not like you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes piercing. “What’s really going on?”

The intensity in his gaze made your stomach twist again. Stay calm. Don’t let him see.

“Nothing’s going on,” you said, a touch too quickly. You took another sip of your drink, using the motion to avoid his eyes.

“Anyway, December’s coming up fast, and I’m guessing you’re planning to bring her, right?” You kept your tone light, as if the question didn’t weigh heavily on your chest.

Yoongi’s expression shifted, the smirk fading as his brows furrowed slightly. “Her?”

You swallowed hard. “You know… the one you’ve been calling and texting all the time.” You gestured vaguely, hoping to seem indifferent. “The woman you’ve been—well, I thought you were planning to introduce her to your family at the gala.”

Yoongi smiled again, but this time, it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s see, princess.”

“Admit that you had fun,” Taehyung teased you as he drove you home.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your lips. Against all odds, you’d genuinely enjoyed yourself. You did have fun. You always thought that movie dates were boring and full of cliché, but not with him. With Taehyung, everything felt effortless—light and uncomplicated, like breathing.

“Fine,” you conceded with mock reluctance, your tone carrying the weight of faux irritation. “It was a fun…”

“Date,” he finished smoothly, his eyes glinting with amusement as your voice trailed off.

Your cheeks burned at his audacity, the straightforwardness of the word stealing your ability to respond for a moment. A "date"? Could you even call it that? The way your heart fluttered betrayed any argument you might have tried to form.

You glanced away, fidgeting with the strap of your bag as thoughts tangled in your mind. Was it okay to feel this way? To bask in fleeting moments of happiness when the life you were living wasn’t truly yours? When you were still determined to set things right, to restore the balance of a narrative that had gone astray?

So caught up in your musings, you barely noticed the car slowing to a stop in the estate’s driveway. The towering grand doors loomed ahead, a stark reminder of the world you’d return to the moment you stepped out.

“Thank you,” Taehyung’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. It was quiet, genuine, and when you turned to look at him, his face was softer than you’d ever seen it.

“For what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For being here,” he replied simply, his gaze holding yours.

The weight of his sincerity pressed against your chest, making it harder to breathe. Before you could respond, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The world seemed to slow as his hand moved to cup your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

Your breaths mingled, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips hovered so close to yours it was almost unbearable. You could feel the moment hanging on a fragile thread, teetering on the edge of something irreversible.

The room’s golden hues seemed to dim as the sound of the car horn echoed through the driveway, shattering the fragile intimacy between you and Taehyung. You jolted back, your heart pounding in your chest as if caught in an act of betrayal—though you hadn’t technically done anything wrong. Yet.

Taehyung sighed, his expression softening as he glanced toward the car behind him. “Looks like your knight in shining armor doesn’t know how to wait,” he said lightly, though there was a hint of tension in his voice.

You managed a shaky laugh, your hand gripping the strap of your bag tightly. “He’s just… overprotective.”

“Right,” Taehyung said, leaning back in his seat. His eyes met yours, warm and understanding, but with a flicker of something else—something that made your chest tighten. “Still, I meant what I said. Thanks for tonight.”

Before you could respond, the honk came again, sharper this time, as if Yoongi were making a point. You turned to glance at his car, the sleek black exterior glinting under the estate’s lights. Even from this distance, you could feel his piercing gaze locked on you.

“Goodnight, Taehyung,” you said hurriedly, fumbling with the door handle.

Taehyung smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You stepped out of the car and started toward the grand door, the cold evening air biting at your skin. Yoongi’s car door slammed shut behind you, and the sound of his footsteps was a quiet storm approaching. You didn’t dare look back, your heart a riot of guilt, frustration, and confusion.

“Princess,” Yoongi’s voice cut through the quiet, smooth and controlled, but laced with an edge you couldn’t ignore.

You stopped in your tracks, turning slowly to face him. He was already close, his dark eyes scanning your face like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His suit was immaculate, as always, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his posture—shoulders just a little too stiff, jaw a little too tight.

“You’re back late,” he said, his tone deceptively casual.

“I went to see a movie with Taehyung,” you replied, keeping your voice neutral.

At the mention of Taehyung, Yoongi’s gaze flicked past you to the car that was now idling at the end of the driveway. You followed his line of sight and felt a pang of unease as his expression shifted. His brows raised slightly as he studied Taehyung through the window, his head tilting just enough to convey an air of quiet disdain.

And then he smirked—a slow, deliberate curl of his lips that sent an unfamiliar shiver down your spine. It wasn’t the Yoongi you were used to seeing. In that moment, he was something else entirely: sharp, commanding, almost cruel. The kind of presence that demanded submission without a word.

“What did you say his last name was, princess?” he asked, still watching Taehyung with that same unsettling smirk. His tone was light, but there was something in it—something dark—that made your heart beat faster.

“Kim?” you replied thoughtlessly, your mind too preoccupied with wanting to escape the tension. “Why did you ask?”

Finally, he turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening just enough to make the moment feel surreal. The shift was so subtle, so practiced, that it left you second-guessing the sharpness you’d just seen. He reached out, his arm sliding around your shoulders with an ease that felt both natural and calculated.

“No reason, princess,” he said smoothly, steering you toward the grand doors of the estate. “Just… curious.”

The warmth of his arm contrasted sharply with the coldness that lingered in the air. It was disarming, the way he could shift so easily between roles—between the man you knew and the one you weren’t sure you ever wanted to meet again.

As he guided you inside, you cast one last glance over your shoulder. Taehyung’s car hadn’t moved, the figure inside still watching. You couldn’t see his face, but you imagined the tension mirrored your own.

When the doors shut behind you, the weight of Yoongi’s presence beside you grew heavier. His hand rested lightly against your shoulder, his touch far gentler than the unease simmering just beneath the surface.

"Don’t you have better things to do than come to my dress fitting? Like, I don’t know, actually run your empire or something?" you asked, stepping out of the fitting room with a huff.

Yoongi sat sprawled on the plush sofa, one arm draped lazily along the backrest, a glass of champagne balanced effortlessly in his other hand. He looked utterly at ease, as if this boutique was his second home and not a place he had followed you to.

He shrugged, “Well, we can’t have you running away from me again, can we?”

“For the last time, I didn’t run away! I was in Paris because croissant sounded nice that day-”

“Sure, princess,” he agreed condescendingly. Yoongi’s gaze swept over you, lingering a moment longer than you expected. “On the other hand, you look immaculate in that dress,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “You’re going to make the rest of the gala feel underdressed.”

Heat crept up your neck at his words, but you quickly masked it with a scoff. “Flattery doesn’t suit you, Yoongi. Save it for the boardroom or—better yet—for her.”

He raised an eyebrow, swirling the champagne in his glass as if you hadn’t just tried to divert the conversation. “Her?” he echoed, tilting his head with mock curiosity.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yes, her. The one you met in the previous ball? The waitress? The one you’ll be introducing to your family at the gala, remember? Does she ring a bell?”

“We’re still talking about that?” Yoongi asked, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned back into the plush sofa. The glass of champagne in his hand tilted slightly, catching the light as he swirled the golden liquid. “Why are you so invested in my relationship with her?”

“I’m just concerned and curious as a friend.”

He chuckled softly, setting his glass down on the table beside him. “Curious, huh? And here I thought you were just jealous.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Jealous?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze never leaving yours. “You keep bringing her up. You’re obsessed with the idea of me introducing her to my family, of me texting her. You sure this isn’t just about you not wanting to share me?”

Your face burned, and you turned away, pretending to adjust the dress in the mirror. “You’re ridiculous and I refuse to discuss this further,” you muttered. “I’m going to buy this!” You announced before stalking back to the fitting room to avoid wondering about why your heart was skipping a beat and why you shouldn’t venture into that.

You were huffing as you tried to reach for the zipper behind you when the curtain suddenly opened and Yoongi stepped in, making the room felt impossibly small. You instinctively turned your back to him, clutching at the unzipped dress as though a protection against whatever this was.

“What are you doing here?!”

Yoongi leaned casually against the side of the fitting room, his smirk firmly in place. “Helping you, obviously,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I don’t need your help!” you snapped, tugging at the zipper yourself but struggling to reach it.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said smoothly, taking a step closer. His fingers brushed against yours as he gently moved your hand away. “Relax, princess. I’ll take care of it.”

You froze, your heart pounding as his hands moved to the zipper. His touch was surprisingly delicate, his fingers grazing your back as he carefully pulled the zipper up. The sound of the zipper seemed deafening in the silence.

“There,” he said softly, his voice low and close to your ear. “All done.”

You were about to turn around when he stopped you. You met his dark eyes through the mirror, and the intensity in his gaze held you captive. His hands lingered lightly on your shoulders, warm against the smooth fabric of the dress. There was something unreadable in his expression—a mix of curiosity, amusement, and something far deeper that you couldn’t quite name.

“You’re very beautiful, princess. Do you know that?” he whispered, resting his chin on your delicate shoulder.

“Yoongi, what are you doing?”

He was quiet for a moment as though in contemplation whether to say what he wanted to say. Like in the manhwa, Yoongi was calculating. He never did anything without a reason, one of which would benefit him. “I had a nightmare the night after the ball,” he finally confessed, his voice low and almost distant, as if recalling something that lingered in his mind. “We were on the yacht. I think it was a party. You were there… She was there. I was there. And the yacht… it slammed into a rock. The two of you were thrown off.”

If he felt your body went rigid, he didn’t mention. He never broke eye contact, his arms around your waist as he told you of his dream. The one exactly what happened in the manhwa– the one where the main lead chose to save the main female lead first, only to find out the it was already late for the second female lead.

His body was so close that you could feel the slight tremble in his arms as he spoke, his fingers grazing your waist with the same careful intensity.

You met his gaze in the mirror again, and something twisted in your stomach. There was an almost predatory look in his eyes, but there was something else too—something far more vulnerable, raw. He didn’t break eye contact, and his grip on you tightened just slightly, as though he wanted to hold on, as though he was afraid you’d slip away.

“In my dream,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, “I saw you die because I saved her first. It felt so real, like I was remembering something that already happened.” He paused, and you felt the weight of his words sink in. “Why would I save her first when I know I can’t lose you?”

 “It’s just a dream…” you tried to console him. How could he remember something that happened in the ending? Was the barrier between the characters and the plot weakening? What was changing? And how could you go back to your own world when he was holding onto you so tight as though if he looked away, you’d disappear?

“It is, right? It’s not going to happen... I’ll make sure of it.”

December came.

It was the month you were both dreading and anticipating. You were almost at the end of the story, and so far, you did your absolute best to let their love story unfold without a second female lead antagonizing it. You did your part by staying away from them. One problem though, the male lead was not acting like he was written in the manhwa. He was not acting like a man in love should be to her. Instead, he was out there sticking to you like

It was safe to say that Min Yoongi went rouge.

You did not know what to expect in the annual gala. You no longer have the upper hand. You were in the blind as though you were a real character and no longer a reader. You feared that the longer you stayed in this fictional world, the more likely that you’d be incorporated in the story and no longer as a second female lead that could just easily disappear.

You needed answers on how to escape from this fictional world. Answers eluded you. Worse still, so did the only person who seemed to see you for who you were. Taehyung. Since that night, not once did Taehyung answer you calls nor respond to your numerous messages. You tried asking your trusted staff about him, but even they were mummed. It was only your closest maid who whispered to you what transpired and how Taehyung’s budding business empire had crumbled overnight, crushed under the weight of lawsuits—tax evasion, fraud, and other accusations you couldn’t fathom. The news left you hollow. You hadn’t seen this coming. The man who had been your one source of normalcy, the one who made you feel like a real person instead of a pawn in someone else’s story, had disappeared into the shadows of scandal. You thought to yourself that maybe you really didn’t know him at all and that it was best to just focus on how to once and for all, leave this universe.

But who could you ask?

You continued anxiously tapping your heels on the marbled flooring, observing the guests. You were in the corner, trying to hide in the shadows so you could freely look for her. He would be bringing her, right?

Where is she?

Your eyes scanned the room again, trying to keep your presence hidden in the shadows. The guests were mingling, lost in the glitter of conversation and champagne. Laughter bubbled up in the air, but none of it felt real. Not like it should have. None of this was real, in fact. This was a fictional world where you were stuck in.

You wondered what would happen if you stopped playing her role. But before you could dwell on that thought, the door opened again, and you stiffened. You were expecting to see the main female lead, yet instead, it was Yoongi. The man of the hour. He entered the room and all the guests he passed greeted and congratulated him for setting another record in his empire, yet his eyes always returned to you. Where was she? This was not supposed to be like this. Yet, you knew in the back of your mind that something integral changed. You were in denial about how you no longer had control over this, that you might as well be truly in the story now, no longer an observer, no longer able to hide behind the pages of the manhwa.

You stepped back involuntarily, no longer feeling the courage you had faked for so long. You lost control. You had to find a way out. However, when you slipped away and turned the corner, you bumped into an old, yet dignified woman. You bowed in apologies when it dawned upon you.

You have seen her before.

Slowly, your eyes lifted to hers. You knew her. She was the woman who gave you the manhwa… How was she in this world?!

Your mouth hanged agape as the corner of her lips lifted, her eyes crinkling when she saw the dawn of recognition on her face. “I told you reading it will change your mind.”

“It’s you,” you whispered, taking an unsteady step back. Your eyes darted over her, as if trying to piece together a puzzle that didn’t belong in this world. “H-how… How are you here? What’s going on? Y-you have to help me. Why am I here? How can I leave?!”

She studied you for a moment, her gaze steady, unreadable. “You’re here because someone wants you here, dear.”

“I don’t want to be here! I want to go back.”

Her head tilted slightly, her calm demeanor unwavering. “But why? What do you have in your old life that you so desperately want to return to? Aren’t you alone there? Didn’t you have no one to love you?”

“That’s not the point!” you shot back, a tremor running through your voice. “And it’s not different here. No one loves me—no one even knows the real me.”

Her smile deepened, a glint of something—mischief, perhaps?—in her eyes. “Ah, but who do you think was desperate enough, filled with enough sorrow, to pull you into this universe?”

Your breath caught, confusion clouding your mind. “I… I don’t understand.”

“When she died,” the woman began, her voice lowering, as if unveiling a truth long buried, “the manhwa ended. But did you think the characters would simply cease to exist? No, dear. They continued, burdened by the pain of their story. Yoongi was devastated. He regretted everything—every word, every choice, every moment that led to her death. He mourned her. His sorrow was so great, it transcended the story’s limits and reached you.”

Your head spun. “Me?” you repeated weakly, disbelief dripping from your voice.

“Dear, you are her. Just in a different universe. It’s the reason why you sided with her, why you felt for her, why her character called on you, why her pain felt like your own. You are her.”

“I don’t want to be her,” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t choose this. Please—just send me back to my own universe.”

The woman sighed, her expression softening, though her eyes retained their strange, knowing glimmer. “The only way out,” she said slowly, “is through. The manhwa will only release you when its story ends. And you know how it ends, don’t you?”

A cold realization began to settle in your chest. “When he marries the female lead,” you murmured, dread weaving through every syllable. Your words hung in the air, heavy and final.

The sharp sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, breaking your trance. You barely had time to gather your thoughts before a familiar voice cut through the suffocating stillness.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing here?”

Yoongi’s low, commanding tone sent a jolt through you, but it was his grip—firm but not harsh—as his hand closed around your arm that made your breath hitch.

You turned to face him, his dark eyes locking onto yours. They were intense, holding a darkness that made your stomach churn. Something simmered beneath his composed exterior, something unsettling.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, your voice unsteady.

His lips quirked into a small, unreadable smile. “I just arrived, princess,” he said, the pet name rolling off his tongue like silk. “What are you doing here? Alone?”

“I…” You hesitated, your mind racing for an excuse. “I was just talking to—”

When you turned back, the old woman was gone.

Your heart sank, panic surging through you. The corridor where she had stood moments ago was now empty, as though she had vanished into thin air.

Yoongi frowned, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. “Talking to who?” he pressed, his voice dropping.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but the weight of it was crushing. “No one,” you said quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. “She must’ve left before you got here.”

Yoongi looked down at you, his expression calm, his gaze steady. Yet, something about the way he held himself—the deliberate gentleness, the faint curve of his lips—made unease coil tightly in your chest. A part of you whispered that this tenderness was a mask, that he wasn’t as naïve or benign as he seemed.

But then he smiled.

It was a tender smile, soft around the edges, and for a fleeting moment, your doubts dissolved like mist under the morning sun.

“Let’s get back to the party, princess,” he said, his voice a soothing balm against the tension humming in your veins. “Your parents arrived.”

Your steps faltered. “My parents?”

The mention of them sent a jolt through you. They were a peripheral presence in the story, barely more than a footnote in the manhwa’s narrative. They were always overseas, managing their company, distant figures who left their daughter to fend for herself. Their absence was a plot device, a catalyst for your dependence on Yoongi.

But now, they were here.

“W-why are they here?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your effort to steady it.

Yoongi stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His expression didn’t change, but there was something unsettling in the way his eyes softened, like he was trying to calm a skittish animal. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his tone quiet yet resolute.

The words only made your pulse quicken. He offered his arm to you, his demeanor so effortless, so composed, as though he hadn’t just upended everything you thought you knew about the storyline. “Shall we?”

Were you imagining things, or were the guests’ gazes lingering just a little too long as you and Yoongi re-entered the ballroom? Conversations paused, eyes flickering in your direction, a murmur of whispers spreading like ripples across the sea of elegantly dressed attendees.

Yoongi, as always, was composed. His hand rested lightly on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd with an ease that belied the tension curling in your chest. You tried to focus on the glittering chandeliers, the music, the familiar opulence of the space, but the weight of the stares made it impossible.

“There’s our little girl!”

The warm, dignified voice cut through the hum of the crowd, pulling your attention to its source. Your mother stood near the edge of the room, resplendent in a gown that rivaled the grandeur of the occasion. Her face lit up with delight as she strode toward you, arms outstretched.

“Y-you’re here…” you stammered, shock rendering you momentarily immobile as she pulled you into an embrace. Her movements were graceful yet firm, as though she’d been waiting for this moment.

“Of course, we’re here,” she said, stepping back to study your face, her smile warm but tinged with something calculating. “Why wouldn’t we be? It’s not every day that our dear daughter gets engaged.”

Your heart raced, panic rising as you tried to process what was happening. “I… I don’t understand,” you managed, your voice trembling as you looked between your parents and Yoongi.

Yoongi stepped closer, the warmth of his hand on your back turning into a subtle yet firm pressure. His voice dropped to a low murmur, meant only for your ears, as his sharp eyes held yours in an unrelenting gaze.

“It’s all been arranged, princess,” he said softly, his words almost tender but laced with steel. “Your parents and mine have been discussing this for some time. They thought tonight was the perfect opportunity to make it official.”

Your heart pounded in protest, the world around you narrowing to just him and the enormity of what he was saying. “I didn’t agree to this,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “This is wrong! You don’t want this, Yoongi. You have her. And I—”

“You what?” he interrupted sharply, his eyes narrowing. “You have Taehyung?”

“No!” you snapped, shaking your head. “This isn’t about him. This is about them deciding for us. This is about tying your life to mine when you don’t even want to!”

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk returning but without any real humor. “Who says I don’t want to?”

“Yoongi—”

“Look, princess,” he cut you off, his voice soft but commanding. “We just have to act like we’re going along with this. Just pretend. Can you do that for me?”

Your breath caught, and you searched his face for some hint of his true feelings. But all you found was a calm determination that left you more uncertain than ever.

The murmur of the crowd reached you, the polite applause growing louder as you turned toward the center of the room. Yoongi extended his hand, his posture exuding confidence and charm as he guided you toward the raised platform where your parents and his waited.

The spotlight followed the two of you as you ascended albeit reluctantly, every step feeling heavier than the last. The room seemed to hush, the weight of their expectations bearing down on you.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Yoongi began smoothly, raising his glass in a toast. His voice carried easily, commanding the attention of the entire ballroom. “Tonight is a special night, not just for our families, but for me. I’m honored to announce my engagement to this incredible woman beside me, my childhood best friend, the only woman who have never left my side. I cannot live without her, and soon, I’ll never have to.”

The applause erupted, deafening and overwhelming. You felt trapped, the walls closing in as Yoongi turned to you, his smile perfectly composed for the crowd.

“Shall we make it convincing, princess?” Yoongi murmured, his voice low and unreadable, carrying a weight you couldn’t quite place. 

Before you could respond, he cupped your face with a gentleness that felt at odds with the deliberate precision in his movements. His touch was warm, grounding, yet it sent a jolt through you—a mix of dread and something far more dangerous. 

Your breath hitched. 

Never in your wildest dreams did you think Min Yoongi—the composed, untouchable Min Yoongi—would lower his head to capture your lips. Even more unthinkable was the way his kiss shattered every expectation, unraveling something deep within you. 

Yoongi kissed like a man starved. His lips moved against yours with a consuming intensity, a hunger that left no room for hesitation. It wasn’t gentle or tentative; it was deliberate, almost punishing. He took and took, claiming you with every movement of his mouth. His tongue brushed against yours, coaxing and demanding at the same time, leaving you breathless. 

His free hand cradled your face, tilting it to him as if to ensure you couldn’t escape—not that your body seemed capable of responding. Your knees felt weak, your heart thundered in your chest, and the noise of the crowd faded into an inconsequential blur. 

For a moment, there was only him. 

The crowd erupted into applause, the sound jolting you back to reality. The cheers and whistles surrounded you, the noise pressing in like a tidal wave. You blinked, realizing that your hands had gripped the fabric of his jacket, as though anchoring yourself to him. 

Yoongi pulled back slowly, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes were dark, burning with something you couldn’t decipher. His lips curled into a faint, triumphant smile, as if he knew exactly what effect he’d had on you. 

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before he took your hand in his. The velvet box you hadn’t even noticed being opened now sat empty in his other hand. And then, before you could process what was happening, there it was—a massive diamond glinting on your finger, its size almost blinding under the ballroom lights. It was familiar. How could it not when it was the same ring he won in the auction?

Why did he have this now? When was this entire fiasco prepared?

Your chest tightened as you stared at the ring, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should have. 

Yoongi raised your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. To the crowd, it was the perfect picture of a devoted fiancé. But to you, it was something far more unnerving. 

“You wear it well,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. 

The applause swelled around you again, the sound nearly deafening as you tried to steady your racing thoughts. 

This wasn’t part of the story. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

But Yoongi, ever the master of control, seemed to have rewritten the script entirely. And you were left standing in the middle of his narrative, unable to tell where the performance ended and the truth began.

The evening air outside was cool and calm, a sharp contrast to the warmth and chatter of the grand party you had just left behind. As the crowd dwindled and the night settled, Yoongi offered you his arm, escorting you toward his sleek black car. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, and his dark eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual.

The night seemed to be endless. You were never left alone even for a moment. You wanted nothing more than to lie down and plan your next step. You had to, or else you were stuck here.

“I’m sorry I missed your speech,” you said as the car pulled away from the glowing mansion. “I’m sure it was great.”

He glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That’s fine. You’ll always be here to hear my next speech anyway.”

You returned his smile, but it was brittle, not quite reaching your eyes. Had your plan succeeded, this would be one of your last moments with him. You’d return to your world, leaving this Yoongi—and this universe—behind. The thought tightened something in your chest, but you pushed it aside.

“I’m sorry about the sudden engagement, princess.” His voice was soft, laced with what sounded like regret, but his eyes told a different story. “My hands were tied. Our families went behind our backs, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Lies. All of it.

What you didn’t know was that Yoongi had orchestrated everything. He had whispered into the right ears, pulled strings behind the scenes, and crafted a perfect storm to ensure this engagement would bind you to him. He didn’t care what the truth was, whether or not you were from this world. He cared about one thing only—keeping you by his side.

Something in him had shifted the moment he realized how easily you could slip away. The very idea of losing you—to this world, to Taehyung, to anything—was unbearable. It drove him to actions he never thought himself capable of, cruel and unapologetic. Taehyung was out of the picture now, his budding empire crushed under the weight of scandal. Yoongi had ensured that, and he felt no remorse.

What mattered was you.

You offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes because if what you were planning was successful, you’d return to your own world and he’d be left in this universe. Yoongi quietly offered you a champagne as the driver smoothly drove back to the mansion.

“Are we celebrating something?” you asked, eyeing the sparkling liquid.

“Just…for always, princess,” he said softly, the words carrying an undertone you couldn’t quite place.

You hesitated, but took the glass, sipping the sparkling liquid. The conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of shared humor, mutual interests, and a surprising depth of understanding. With each exchange, you were reminded of why you had felt drawn to Yoongi in the first place. For all his intensity and mystery, he was undeniably charming, and being with him felt easy in a way you hadn’t expected.

The spirit of alcohol definitely made you forget about the ruckus that happened tonight. If he said that he didn’t have anything to do with it, who were you to question him when he was characterized in the manhwa as someone who was good?

Your conversation with him was fun. It was grounding.

Until the world began to tilt.

Dizziness crept over you, subtle at first but quickly overpowering. Your fingers loosened around the champagne flute as your head grew heavier, and before you knew it, your cheek was pressed against his shoulder.

“Yoongi…” you murmured, your voice weak as you leaned against him.

He steadied you, his hand moving to cradle your head as you slumped against his shoulder. “It’s alright,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of finality.You tried to sit up, to stay awake, but your body refused to cooperate. Everything blurred together, and then, there was nothing.

Yoongi’s hand moved to steady you, his touch gentle as he adjusted your position so you rested more comfortably against him. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable, before shifting his gaze toward the driver.

“To the airport,” he instructed, his voice calm but firm.

The driver nodded without hesitation, changing course.

Yoongi turned his attention back to you, his jaw tightening as he studied your sleeping face. He’d heard everything earlier—the old woman’s cryptic words, your desperate plea to leave, and your determination to escape this world.

It all made sense. The nightmare that brought terrors in his heart really happened. You died because of his foolishness, because he chose someone else over you when he knew he couldn’t survive a world without you. It had been like living his worst nightmare all over again, the fear of losing someone he wasn’t ready to let go. But this time, he refused to let it happen.

He wasn’t a religious man, but your presence in this universe felt like a miracle—a second chance, no matter how strange or impossible. Whether you were the original her or not didn’t matter. You were here. You were his.

And he wouldn’t let you leave.

His gaze darkened, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

“You’re not going anywhere, princess,” he murmured softly, more to himself than to you.

The first female lead was no longer his focus. She was gone.

Now, it was you.

And Yoongi would do whatever it took to keep you by his side—even if it meant tying you to him so tightly you could never untangle the threads.

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

This is such a work of art✨ one of my most favorite authors on this app has returned to claim the crown 👑❤️😭

BTS! Mafia - They Are the Rival Boss Who Likes You (pt. 1)

Request: they rescue you from your abusive boyfriend who is the boss of the rival gang (This request came in over a year ago by anon but thank you so much, I love this idea - it kept me up at night - and I am so sorry it took me so long to write it!)

A/N: I had no one specific in mind when I wrote Kang; the name was chosen solely for the purpose of not having to write B/N all the time. This will get a pt. 2 or it may become even a tiny mini-series, so any ideas for the continuation are welcome!

Warnings: mentions of abuse and violence

MASTERLIST

Backstory:

You have been dating Kang for more than two years and in the beginning, he was perfect. He was sweet and a gentleman but the longer you stayed together, the more you began to see the other side of him. Kang was always angry or upset, always finding something he disliked about you. He grew more jealous and insecure by the day, even having his men follow you secretly sometimes. It escalated to the point where Kang would raise his voice and threaten you regularly. It happened only moments before you had to attend a benefit with your boyfriend. You had an argument where you tried to make Kang see reason about ending your relationship, but he took your arm and pulled you to him, his eyes blind with insecurity. "You are not leaving me," Kang growled against your face as he held your arm tight enough to break it with a single move. "Ever."

* * *

Jin

You accepted a glass of champagne from one of the waiters, finding your reflection in one of the decorative mirrors. The black evening gown with long sleeves that hid your bruise you wore was stunning yet you felt anything but. These past few months took a toll on both your mental as well as physical health but you could not see a way out.

You found Kang's reflection behind yours, his back turned to you as he laughed with some of his wealthy benefactors.

"You look beautiful," said someone out of the sudden. You turned around coming face to face with none other than Kim Seokjin. Your eyes widened in surprise. You knew him - you remembered him because you spoke at the last benefit. When Kang learned of it however, he threatened that you should never to speak to him again or there would be consequences. Jin was Kang's biggest rival.

The sweet smile on Kim's lips disappeared slowly when you did not say anything. You were taken aback by the warmth of his presence and the kindness of his smile after the evening you have had.

"Thank you," you managed at last, your fingers cold with sweat as you glanced over in your boyfriend's direction. The shadow of his frame stepped out on the terrace for a cigar with his colleagues and you breathed more easily.

You had not noticed but Kim's gaze followed yours out on the terrace before you looked back into his dark eyes. Your body trembled. You are never leaving me. Ever.

"Are you alri—"

"Help me."

The two of you spoke at the same time, your voice hushed as you began to feel tears creep into your eyes. Your gaze was locked with Kim's. You saw the way he looked at you at the last benefit, how his eyes lingered on you even when you were in the company of your boyfriend. He stayed at the events all the while you stayed although all of his friends have already left only so that the three of you could wait for your cars together. Kim did not say anything but it could not have been a coincidence.

You looked away, blinking back the tears. You found yourself embarrassed - what did you think would happen; he would help you out of the goodness of his heart and risk a falling out between the companies?

"I'm sorry," you shook your head and offered Jin a small smile, in disbelief with yourself of how silly you were.

You placed down your champagne and made to get some air.

"Meet me at the fountain in five minutes," spoke Jin discretely as he passed you by, giving no indication to anyone who could be watching that he said anything at all.

You froze, your gaze locked on his back as he walked away, your heart in your throat. The heat of adrenaline flushed through your body when you looked around the venue of merry guests. You took a fresh glass of champagne before your eyes met your boyfriend's across the dance floor. He rose his glass of scotch to you only slightly, a smile on his lips although his eyes were cold and insecure. You mimicked the gesture and smiled as best you could before greeting one of the wives of the benefactors. You soon excused yourself and walked outside, placing the untouched glass of champagne on the stone fence. You glanced behind you but there wasn't a soul.

You walked down to the fountain holding up the skirt of your dress. The heels nearly made you trip, not because you struggled to walk in them but because your entire body trembled with fear and adrenaline.

"Come," you heard Kim's voice out of nowhere. He was suddenly beside you, his large hand barely brushing against your back as he led you to a car that has been waiting. You sat in without hesitation after Kim held the door for you and he took the driver's seat. You did not ask where he was taking you, but anywhere would be better than returning home with Kang. You did not want to imagine what that would be like.

You followed Jin into the elevator that took you to the top of a large skyscraper. There was security on every corner on the way up, making you uneasy. They seemed like the kind of men that Kang would order to follow you.

"Are these your men?" you asked when the two of you reached a pair of doors. Two men stood opposite it, clad in all black with a bulletproof vest and some sort of firearm in their hands.

Jin glanced at the men, following your gaze. "They are," he confirmed and typed in the security code for the door. "They are loyal men," he added as if he could hear your thoughts.

You nodded as Kim let you inside of his apartment. It was vast and minimalist with a warm shade of white predominating, making the rooms bright and inviting although it had began to rain outside.

You took off your heels, now standing much shorter next to Kim. The reality of it all hit you like a brick.

"What will happen now?" you asked, looking up at Jin. You thought of Kang, of their business and the rivalry, how this would be seen as a betrayal of the already fragile peace ...

"Nothing," said Jin lightly as if what happened from now on was not your problem to solve.

Kim took off the jacket of his tuxedo and placed it neatly over one of the kitchen chairs.

"Are you hungry?"

Namjoon

The benefit was held at a beautiful country manor but you could not care for the rose bushes or the crystal chandeliers. You had snuck out to escape your boyfriend and his band of colleagues. Kang often teased you and spoke badly about you in front of his friends, then tried to convince you how it was all in your head, the way he treated you. You could not stand another evening like that, not after everything that had already happened before you even came to the benefit.

You ran your fingers across your elbow absent-mindedly as you leaned against the stone fence of the staircase that led to the manor. For a long time, there wasn't a soul until you head the click of a lighter and the inhale of smoke. You turned around, recognizing a familiar dark figure near the side entrance. The man inhaled, the tip of the cigarette lighting up as he stepped out of the shadows. It was Kim Namjoon. You heard of him long before you met him yourself at one of these sort of events. He was the leader of Kang's rival company and the man your boyfriend despised most in the world.

You looked away quickly, pretending to look at the moonlit gardens of the country manor. You had spoken once or twice to Mr Kim yourself. He was nothing short of a gentleman but you thought Kang was a gentleman too at first.

"Not enjoying yourself?" asked Mr Kim as he came over to you. The smoke of his cigarette followed him, mingled with the scent of his perfume. Your stomach was already in knots from your argument with Kang; you could not even imagine what he would do to you if he found out you had spoken to Kim again.

"What is there to enjoy?" you whispered to yourself, looking down at the stone fence. Kim's gaze studied you, you could feel it burning into your body. He smiled at first - he hated these kinds of events too. They were dull and nothing but false pretenses but they were a part of the job. And yet the smile drained from his eyes.

"Do you need some help?" asked Kim darkly, his question surprising you. You looked up into his eyes as they shifted between your arm and your gaze. You wore a beautiful one-sleeved dress that hugged your body only that the sleeve was on the wrong arm.

In an instant your eyes filled with tears although you had not as much as missed to smile once all evening. You looked away embarrassed.

"What could you possibly do?" you asked not unkindly, your voice cracking with hopelessness.

Kim took one last drag from his cigarette and flicked it over the fence. He took your palm as he exhaled, leading you to the parking lot with him. Kim only needed to raise his hand toward the valet and they brought over his car.

"Get in," said Kim gently as he quickly opened the door for you. You stared at him astounded before you got in, glancing over your shoulder if your boyfriend or one of his men noticed you leaving. There was nothing there but the sound of laughter echoing from inside the manor.

"It's safe here," said Kim when the two of you walked across the lobby of an apartment building. There were guards everywhere holding heavy weapons.

"What is this place?" you asked warily as the elevator door opened to introduce another smaller hall with a pair of doors protected with a safety code.

"It's my apartment," said Kim, typing in the code and opening the door for you. You hesitated, your gaze freezing on Namjoon. He of all people knew what this would mean for him, for his business. He turned to you when you did not follow him inside.

"Are you sure?" you asked. Kim could have just dropped you off at a train station and be rid of you - why take you to his apartment and exposing himself?

"I'm sure," said Namjoon, not a hint of a doubt in his dark eyes.

Yoongi

Kang's hand rested tightly on your waist as you were forced to entertain his benefactors and their wives. Benefits like this were far from uncommon, a charitable cause more often than not serving as a cover for the dealings that really went on.

Simply holding a glass of champagne and keeping your arm tense made the pain in your elbow worsen. You wore a black couture gown with beautiful puffy sleeves of white silk that covered the dark bruise in the shape of Kang's fingerprints.

You tried to smile politely and keep your calm but every once in a while your brows would fall and hopelessness would creep into your eyes. You looked around the luxurious venue, seeing many familiar faces, most of them Kang's colleagues. As your gaze began to drift back to your interlocutors, it returned to familiar dark eyes. You knew those eyes. They belonged to Min Yoongi. You met him some months ago when he attended one of these events for the first time in a while but never missed one since. After Kang learned that you talked, he threatened to break every bone in your body if you did so again. Min was one of is greatest rivals.

You looked down at your champagne. The drink was only getting warm in your hands as you were not in the mood to drink or anything else for that matter. You did not know what it was but seeing Min and the way that his dark eyes found you in that crowd was the last straw. Tears pushed into your eyes and threatened to fall.

You excused yourself to use the ladies' room, Kang's hand reluctantly letting go of your waist. You wanted to keep your gaze on the floor but as you passed by Min your eyes locked with his. The scent of his fragrance lingered on you after you walked past him. You made for the ladies room, your eyes watering with hot tears and making you walk even faster before anyone could see you cry. But a hand caught your wrist as you passed by the open terrace, pulling you out into the fresh air.

A soft gasp escaped your lips when you looked up, coming face to face with Min Yoongi.

"What are you doing?" you asked quickly as you shook your head.

"Why are you crying?" asked Min, the smile fading from his eyes.

"What?" You had not even noticed that the tears had slipped down your cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" repeated Min, his voice growing darker but his hands cupped your cheeks and his thumbs brushed away the tears.

"I'm not," you insisted although your chin quivered and your eyes watered once more. You looked down embarrassed, then glanced over your shoulder quickly if your boyfriend had come to look for you already.

"I have to go," you whispered and slipped from his arms. Yoongi caught your elbow, not ready to let you go without an answer. His eyes widened when you whimpered and pulled your arm from his gentle grasp. He had barely touched you. That is when his sharp black eyes noticed the hint of a dark bruise beneath the puffy white sleeve of your dress.

"I'm sorry," you shook your head, "I really have to go." Your voice was but a whisper as your chin quivered yet again with the threat of tears.

"I'm glad we agree," said Yoongi somberly, his fingers locking with yours. He led you across the garden to the parking lot where the valet brought his car.

"What are you doing?" you asked as Yoongi held the door of his car for you. He froze at the sight of your eyes full of tears looking up at him. His hand reached for your face once again, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped your eye.

"Taking you away from someone who doesn't deserve you."

Hoseok

You wore a pale pink satin dress that your boyfriend picked out for the benefit. Although the dress looked stunning on you, if you could have chosen for yourself, the gown would have been black to reflect your spirits. Kang had your hand wrapped around his elbow when you arrived but was soon distracted by other women and his colleagues, leaving you alone. In truth, you preferred it that way. You could not stop thinking about what it will be like when you return home after the benefit. Your elbow was sore enough that it was a struggle even to fix the hem of your dress or simply hold a champagne glass.

You slipped away into the garden and found a lonesome bench where you sat down. You downed the glass of champagne but it did nothing to dull your pain, particularly not that which you felt in your heart. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind; how your relationship began and how sweet Kang was at first. But once you realized his true self it was already too late.

"Hello," greeted a gentle voice, nonetheless it made you wince. You looked up, recognizing the man in front of you.

"I apologize," said Jung Hoseok, "I didn't mean to scare you." He sat down on the bench beside you unobtrusively.

"It's alright," you said more to yourself than to him. You could not hide the sadness on your face and you did not try to. You were just so tired.

"I haven't seen you in a while," you said to Mr Jung, trying to distract yourself from all the horrible things on your mind.

You had spoken once or twice at these sort of things and when you did not have a chance to, you at least greeted each other with your eyes although you often felt Jung's on you long after you had already focused on the people talking to you. You would never disclose to Kang though that you had spoken to Jung Hoseok. You often heard Kang talk about Hoseok with despise as they were rivals. At first you thought Mr Jung's interest in you was on the account of your boyfriend but he never brought up business or even Kang for that matter when he spoke to you.

"I was busy," said Jung with a small smile. His warm gaze cooled when he saw the look in your eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked, studying your expression. You savored what little warmth remained in his gaze a moment longer, not even recalling when was the last time someone asked you that.

You nodded and offered him a reassuring smile although tears forced into your eyes. You tried to blink them away but when you couldn't you turned away, focusing on the garden in the distance.

"Tell me," asked Jung but you shook your head, swallowing back the tears that lingered in your throat.

"I can't," you whispered and did the mistake of looking Hoseok in the eye. He saw the tears that stung your cheeks. His brows fell heavy onto his eyes, his lips in a firm line.

"Just say the word, Y/N," said Hoseok. You looked at him astounded. He could not have known what has been going on and yet he did.

"Please," you whispered and it was enough. Jung's fingers locked with yours as he took you away from the benefit and your boyfriend.

Jimin

As Kang drove to the benefit he sped all the way because he knew it scared you when he did so. You did not say anything, you did not plead because it would only encourage him. Your eyes often filled with tears but you would not let them fall.

You fixed your fitted black gown with puffy see-through sleeves as you exited the car, the valet holding the door open for you. You held a small purse in one hand, Kang's fingers locking with those of your other palm. His grip was so tight you thought he meant to crush your bones.

As you walked up the elegant staircase of the country manor, you saw your boyfriend's greatest rival leaning against the marble fence whilst he spoke to one of his closest colleagues. Yet as you climbed the staircase, Park Jimin's gaze tore from his friend and fixed on you. His lips parted slightly as he took in the elegance that radiated off of you. You had spoken one time at a similar event and ran into him when you were shopping alone once. He was always nothing but a gentleman to you and yet so was Kang when you first met him. There was something different about Park though - a warmth in his eyes that you never saw in Kang.

You dared not look in Park Jimin's direction for more than a moment, already dreading going home with Kang later without him thinking you were fraternizing with his enemy.

Once inside, Kang went to get the two of you champagne. You flexed your numb fingers, a redness forming around your palm where his squeeze was tightest. You glanced around the venue, finding Mr Park's eyes already on you. His gaze shifted from your palm to your face when he saw your eyes turned to him. A frown framed his dark gaze before you looked away, accepting the glass of champagne from your boyfriend. His arm went to your waist and made you wince almost unnoticeably as you feared his hand might travel even lower. The last thing you wanted in that moment was for anyone to touch you but you had no choice. You stood by Kang's side, thinking of ways to convince him that your relationship was doomed, but his words kept surfacing in your memory. You are never leaving me. Ever.

You excused yourself to visit the ladies' room - the only place you could go without Kang's gaze torturing you. You walked across the venue, placing your empty champagne glass on one of the empty trays on the way. As you turned the corner to the ladies' room, you nearly bumped into someone. You stumbled back but a pair of hands secured you. You gasped as one of those hands wrapped around your sore elbow, quickly pulling away as your own hand went to the injured joint. Everything happened in the passing of a second. When you finally managed to look up you saw none other than Park Jimin in front of you.

Your wide gaze locked with his formidable frown but all words were knocked out of you.

"Excuse me," you managed at last and tried to make your way past Mr Park but his fingers caught your wrist gently. Your eyes met yet again, your own gaze blurred with tears. You barely knew Park and yet you felt as if you had been friends for years. It was as if you could not hide anything from him, nor wanted to for that matter.

"Just say the word Y/N and I will make it all go away," Jimin said to you and you alone as other people passed by.

"What?" you stuttered, staring up into his dark eyes.

"Kang," said Jimin. Your lips parted when you saw that he knew - but how could he have found out?

Your chin quivered at the realization that you were no longer alone, that you were not the only one who knew what Kang was really like. You could not hold back the tears any longer.

"Please, just ..." you began but your voice cracked. It was enough though. Park's fingers locked with yours as he led you through the side entrance down to the parking lot. You sat into his car and he drove away, leaving the benefit and your boyfriend miles behind you.

Taehyung

You managed to escape from your boyfriend's view under the excuse of using the ladies' room, but you desperately needed to get some air. His constant touch on your hand or your waist disgusted you. You could not bear it any longer.

You slipped through the back door that opened into the parking lot for staff and caterers. You leaned against the cool stone wall by the door and closed your eyes. The cold air of the night filled your lungs and cleared your head but also triggered a wave of hot tears to force into your eyes now that you were finally alone. You blinked slowly, pushing them back for the most part. You dabbed what left of them with the knuckle of your index, hoping you had not damaged your make up and made it known that you had been crying.

The back door opened again, a dark figure emerging outside. A cigarette hung from the man's lips as he lit it up and savored a long-awaited drag of smoke. You recognized him - the back of his head, his wide shoulders but what made you sure it was him was the hand he hid in the pocket of his trousers. Kim Taehyung turned around. He could feel someone's gaze burn into his back. He took the cigarette from his mouth when he saw you, his lips parting and his eyes unmoving.

You offered him a small smile but did not trust your voice to hold up. You did not know who Kim was for a long time yet you always managed to speak to one another at these sort of events - that is, until your boyfriend found out. He told you in a rage that you have been flirting with his greatest rival, although Kang's words had only half the truth. You never flirted with Kim; you would never do that you your boyfriend - whoever he was or how bad the relationship might have gotten. But ever since Kang's outburst you did not even dare look in Kim Taehyung's direction, much less speak to him. You were already threading on thin ice with Kang.

You hugged your arms and looked away when Kim did not say anything. He must have forgotten ever even speaking to you, you thought. Kim's eyes lingered on you, however, as he took another drag of smoke from his cigarette before flicking it away absently.

"What's that?" asked Kim, breathing out the smoke as he gestured his hand to your body. Your eyebrows rose as he caught you off guard with his question. You looked down at your sliver satin dress but quickly found what Kim was looking at. You had not even noticed it yourself; you thought it would be at least a day before it showed properly - the bruise around your elbow that Kang gave you before the benefit.

Taehyung stepped closer to you and you would have backed away if you were not already pressed against the wall. Your lips parted as your eyes grew wide and your body tensed. Kim traced his fingers across the knuckles of yours that were hiding most of the bruise. His touch made you move your hand although the warmth of his closeness invited you and scared you at the same time.

"Nothing, I ... I fell," you lied, your voice small.

Standing up close, Taehyung could see the fingerprints stamped around your elbow. His dark frown rose to your eyes. You could not look away even if you wanted to; his gaze grounded you where you stood. Fever rushed to your cheeks when Kim rose his hand to your face. He brushed a stray tear from beneath your eye that you did not even know was there.

You looked away embarrassed. You were never one to feel sorry for yourself or even complain but the last few months have become unbearable. You were just waiting for your boyfriend to snap.

A shaky breath escaped your lungs as tears filled your eyes against your will. Your chin quivered and although you bit on your lip, the tears fell down your cheeks.

"You should come with me," said Kim. You looked up at him, your eyebrows frowning together.

"Where?" you whispered, shaking your head hopelessly.

"Away," said Kim.

Your gaze shifted between Taehyung's dark eyes. He smelled of cigarette smoke and perfume that began to cling on your skin as well.

You licked your dry lips and nodded, your gaze lowering to Kim's shirt.

Taehyung took your hand, his long fingers gently intertwining with yours as he led you to his car.

Jungkook

You stepped out of your boyfriend's car as the pair of you arrived at the benefit, fixing your off-the-sleeve black dress that hugged your figure. The valet closed the door behind you as your boyfriend already made his way up the elegant staircase without you. You looked up, the stairs seeming like Mount Everest to you. You gathered the skirt of your long evening dress and made your way after him.

"What took you so long?" said Kang, waiting for you by the door because he knew his benefactors liked talking to him more when you were on his arm.

Kang took your hand and led you through the venue, saying hello to everyone who had a moment's time. You offered them a smile and masked how you truly felt inside. You wanted to scream for help but you knew that even if you would beg everyone on their knees, no one would dare say a word to Kang.

Whilst your boyfriend talked to his colleagues, your thoughts and your gaze drifted across the venue. You did not know what you were looking for until you found it - a pair of dark eyes that belonged to Jeon Jungkook. He wore a tuxedo befitting to the occasion, a glass of whiskey in his hand. You had spoken here and there at these sort of events until your boyfriend noticed. You had not known it beforehand but Kang was sure to inform you you were talking to his biggest rival.

You tore your eyes away from Mr Jeon quickly, looking up at your boyfriend to see if his attention was on your gaze. He must have just made a joke for everyone in the circle began to laugh but you. Your boyfriend squeezed at your hips in front of everyone, everyone seeming to enjoy his actions as most of them were older men. You looked down at your champagne, feeling the redness in your cheeks. You could not understand why but your gaze instinctively searched for Jeon's in that moment yet he was nowhere to be seen.

Your stomach was still twisted into knots even as Kang joined his buddies for a cigar out on the back terrace.

A shaky breath escaped your lungs as you struggled to keep the tears that threatened into your eyes at bay. You sat down your glass of untouched champagne on one of the counters, needing to get some air. You walked down the front staircase, glancing over your shoulder for Kang but he was still laughing with his colleagues out on the back terrace.

You reached the bottom of the staircase, feeling as if you had just ran a marathon. Your breathing became heavy and your stomach turned as if a swarm of wasps had settled inside of it. You placed a hand over your chest, trying to calm yourself when a presence to your right suddenly made you stop breathing altogether.

A small gasp escaped your lips, your eyes wide as you expected to find your boyfriend beside you. It was not him however, but Jeon Jungkook. He was holding a cigarette between his fingers, a breath of smoke leaving his lips as his unmoving eyes locked on yours. His brows slowly fell into a heavy frown.

"What's wrong?" asked Jeon although he already had his answer. He wanted to hear it from you though.

If this were the first time you had spoken to him, the tone of his dark voice would have frightened you. But in that moment, it felt as if you were speaking to an old friend you had known but not seen in years.

You looked away as you felt the tears gather in your eyes then down at your elbow nestled in your crossed arms. A bruise was beginning to form around it in the shape of Kang's fingerprints.

"Can you help me?" you whispered as you found Jungkook's eyes one more time. He exhaled the cigarette smoke, studying you with his sharp unblinking gaze that seemed to hold warmth only when he was looking at you.

"Come," said Jungkook, flicking his cigarette away and led the way to his car. His hand gently brushed against your middle back to guide you but you took a step back instinctively, your wide eyes finding his. Jeon's lips parted slightly at the sight of your reaction. He did not say anything but only opened the door open for you, not attempting to touch you again however platonically intended.

You glanced over your shoulder one last time at the venue, somehow expecting one of Kang's men to be on your trail but they must all have been too busy smoking and drinking.

You got inside Jeon's car.

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

At this moment allow me to quote a famous line from the man himself who said "man's not hot,man's never hot" and then went on to prove himself wrong by becoming the hottest guy to ever exist in the history of masculine gender across species😗I mean just look at him giving everyone a baby fever and daddy zaddy fever at the same time😭😭😭😭(and those thiccc This🫨). This pic matches so well with your story🥹

This was the perfect gift for namu's birthday💜Thank you so much for writing this masterpiece authornim. I am gonna be in a namjoon trance all this week. My ovaries are so thankful to you

How he met you: Attorney Kim Namjoon and his little love

Pairing: Attorney Kim Namjoon x Secretary! Reader

Summary: How did you meet him?

A/N: Everybody say (belated) happy birthday to RM! He's the reason why I fell down the BTS rabbit hole tbh hehe. I remembered seeing reels of English interviews and he was answering and I was like hmmm. Who is this cutie patootie? And why is he sometimes giving me secondhand embarrassment and proceeded on asking myself why I found his answers endearing XD Years later, I'm still here ehehe 

Masterlist, Kofi full Preview:

“Do I know you, Ms…?” Namjoon finally asked, looking at you like you were a puzzle he needed to solve because that was who he was– someone who just needed to know everything.

It was the same trait that had earned him a spoon thrown at his head by Yoongi, his hyung, just last week. Namjoon had asked too many questions during lunch, dissecting some tiny detail that had driven Yoongi to the edge. “Some things don’t need to be analyzed, Joon,” Yoongi had muttered before chucking the spoon at him, more annoyed than angry.

“You probably don’t,” you answered casually as you pointed your chopstick at him. “But you most certainly should.”

Namjoon blinked, taken aback by your bluntness. His curiosity, already piqued, deepened. “Because?” he asked, his tone cautious but intrigued.

“Honey, you’re not going to survive this law firm without me. You need me. I mean. Look at you,” you leaned in, your eyes roaming over his features. “Those glasses are so out of fashion. We are in the 21st century. Contact lenses are now a thing.”

Namjoon’s hand instinctively went to his glasses, pushing them up his nose, a faint flush creeping up his neck. He opened his mouth to protest, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“And look at your tie. You are wearing a blue suit and your tie is green. Green.”

You took a deep breath as though pointing at his fashion choices were enough to stress you out.

“I think I am competent enough to survive without you, Ms.-" Namjoon began, trying to regain some composure, his voice firm but polite.

“Ms. Y/N,” you supplied, your lips twisted into an amused smile.

“-Ms. Y/N, I don’t need fashion advice or… whatever this is. I am more than capable of surviving and excelling in this firm. You may not know me, but I graduated at the top of my class.”

“I know,” you said, leaning back with a look of satisfaction. “Kim Namjoon. Age 28. Height is 181 centimeters. You graduated from Seoul National University early due to your stellar grades. You’re a nationally recognized youth with tons of awards. Top 1 in the bar exam. Not only are you smart, but you are also apparently rich, as claimed by the 2019 issue of Seoul Bachelor’s magazine. Did I miss anything?”

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

I can't with the tension!! I am going to pass out at this rate!!

Out of all the people present in this story I do not why I am defending hobi in this situation. Hobi my sunshine please run away and hide for some time because shit is about to hit the roof

Also when oh god when will yoongi know that he is a appa now🥹. Y/n please don't keep mini yoongi away from him for too long. And seokjin this bish😏you cant be handsome and smart at the same time. The caesarean mark😶Y/n who is gonna save you now💀💀

If i had it in my control I would have a daily update of this beautiful amazing story. But I know that isn't possible so I am going to shed some tears.brb

Latibule Season 2: V

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, 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: BTS is 7.

Masterlist, Latibule 2.IV

“You’re finally awake,” a familiar, gentle voice on your right remarked.

You slowly turned to the direction of the voice, your eyes were slow to adjust from the sudden brightness of the white and sterile room. You could make out a man with a tall form, and even with the little vision you were left, you were sure you have seen this man before.

You blinked owlishly, clearing out the sleep from your eyes and little by little, your vision cleared out as best as it could. When it finally did, your breath hitched from the recognition of who this man was.

The man who claimed to have lost his cat years ago– Suga’s hyung.

He smiled at you when a stark recognition crossed your face.

“I never thought we’d see each other again,” he chuckled from his seat, on his lap was your chart. “Let alone in this circumstance."

You quickly sat up. Only now did you feel a restriction form your left hand. Your other hand was quick to reach out, feeling the dextrose drip attached to your skin. You turned to him with caution in your movement, memories of what transpired before this rushing into you.

He found you and he was going to end you.

“W-where am I?” trying to steady your trembling voice and muster some courage.

Seokjin tilted his head to the side. If he noticed your trembling, he did not mention. Apparently, he was content with observing you with almost scientific curiosity. “You’re in my hospital,” he replied.

He followed your eyes as you tried your very best to see what this room was, your eyes drifting across the whole room as though you were looking for something.

“Are you looking for Yoongi?” he asked when enough silence passed with you looking like you were ready to bolt in any given moment. You were sure that

Your refusal to answer was an answer in itself. Your silence spoke volumes.

Seokjin’s relaxed demeanor was just adding up to your nervousness. Why was he not doing anything, you wondered? You were sure that he was a part of whatever shady business Suga was part of. It was impossible that he was not aware of that. After all, they did seem close and they were brothers. The correlation alone was enough to make you be wary of him despite the friendly act of his.

“He’s outside the room,” Seokjin shared with lightness in his words. He chose not to divulge that his younger brother was literally just outside the room, standing guard as though someone was going to take you from him. Worse, that you would disappear right under his nose had he left his pose. “Wanna know why? Apparently, he, and I quote, ‘cannot bear to see the frightened look his angel gave him’.”

“Do you want to see him?”

“I want to leave.”

He stood up calmly and proceeded to check and adjust your dextrose. “Don’t move this hand too much. You’re going to bleed,” he advised, murmuring under his breath how Yoongi was going to hurt him if you were hurt under his care. He also noted how none of his brothers treated him with the respect the eldest should be given. Also, he grumbled about how he kept on feeding them despite their disrespect.

It wasn’t lost on you how he didn’t answer nor acknowledge what you said.

He fished a penlight from his white coat, “I’m just going to check your eyes, Y/N,” he said as he turned the penlight on and instructed you to open your eyes. “Minimal reaction to light,” he murmured to himself before writing down on your chart. “When did this happen?”

“Should I answer?”

“That’s alright. I’ll just check with Doctor Choi-“

“How did you know my doctor?” you asked in aghast. Did their hold know no bound? If not, how then would he know something of confidential matter?

“Hmm?” he moved away from you slowly, his eyes comically wide and his hands raised as though in retreat. It would have been funny had you not been sure that he was one of the bad men you despised so much. “Y/N, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You squinted your eyes at his retreating form. The room that you were in seemed to be ridiculously large and despite the number of steps he was taking, he was still far from the door.

“I swear I don’t know. But also, while we are in the topic of things I certainly do not know and have absolutely no way of knowing, I also have no knowledge of the scar on your stomach that suspiciously do not look like a cesarean scar.”

---

Seokjin jumped from shock when Yoongi stepped in front of him as soon as he exited the room. “I’m going to die early because of my own brothers,” he grumbled in irritation, clutching your chart to his chest. “I can’t go without seeing my sunshine one more time.”

“How is she?”

“Hey, hyung! Have you eaten, hyung? Thank you for staying up all night to take care of the love of my life. I owe you one, hyung. You’re just the best, hyung. You’re so handsome, hyung– really?! Is that so hard to say those things?!” Seokjin finished, his heavy breath a telltale sign of his agitation.

“Let’s just go ahead and pretend I said those things. Anyway, how is she?” Yoongi asked, his face couldn’t hide the exhaustion from staying up all night and refusing to leave despite his assurance that you would be fine under Seokjin’s care. His face was even paler than normal.

He didn’t even leave his post to eat that he had to call the only available brother (and not even his second nor third choice, but his last resort), Kim Taehyung, to disguise himself and come to the hospital with food. Taehyung then had to force the other brother to eat at least two spoonsful of rice.

Taehyung was rarely denied by Yoongi, so maybe Seokjin chose the right brother for this task. Never mind the fact that he was later on kicked out by Yoongi because he kept on looking closely and taking notes of the way he was acting because he said that it would be useful for his next movie character.

“Hopeless. All of you are hopeless-“

“You are, too. How’s your sunshine, by the way?” Yoongi shot back and despite his lack of sleep, his words were sharp as ever.

“I don’t know where she is, okay!? Why are you hurting me like this?!” he asked dramatically, childishly glaring at him. “I hate you! If you want to know how your Angel is, you better ask her yourself!”

Seokjin walked away, his steps quick and his white coat was trailing behind him which further added to his dramatics. A paid actor, if you would.

“I…I can’t, hyung,” Yoongi admitted behind him. The quietness of the hospital wing was enough for him to hear his younger brother’s vulnerability. Further, it was just enough to stop him from walking away.

“Yoongi, you little shit, what do you really want to happen?”

Yoongi sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping in a rare display of weakness. The image of the strong, composed leader seemed to dissolve in the face of his fear. The man who was usually a pillar of strength was now showing vulnerability. It was true what they said—even the strongest man falls to his knees for the woman he loves.

“Hyung,” he started, his voice low and his dark eyes down casted to the floor. “I just want her to be well. I want her to get back the life she had before I destroyed it. I want her to have a chance at normalcy. She deserves it. She deserves peace-”

 “She will be well.”

“How can you even be sure, hyung?” his voice, despite hinting a bit of hope still held despair. “You didn’t see her like I did. She was so…far from who she was.”

Seokjin smirked, “Because I said so. Now that that is out of the way, what do you really want? What’s really in that disgusting thingy you so fondly called a heart?”

Yoongi looked at him, his eyes held a certain darkness Seokjin was all too familiar with. He stood up straight, a strand of his hair fell to his face as he scoffed, “Her.”

He chuckled before leveling him with a serious stare. “Then go and get her.”

---

Your breath hitched when the door opened and your steps haltered.

Coincidentally, you knew who it was before he could even make it two steps inside the room. Even with your eyes failing you, you could never not know who he was. The sound of the door clicking shut behind him was unmistakable.

This was the moment of truth, you realized. This was your nightmares all and simultaneously coming to life.

You took a hesitant step back as his shoes made a sound. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat louder and more frantic than the last.

“You shouldn’t be walking around just yet, Angel,” he admonished quietly, and by doing so, effectively broke the silence between the two of you. You had never forgotten how his voice sounded like despite attempting your very best to erase his existence from your memories. You had never forgotten how deep his voice sounded like, nor how to tell what he was feeling by the timbre of his voice alone.

Despite all that, you couldn’t help but feel something when you heard his voice,

The anxiety was almost suffocating that your breaths came out short and quick. “W-why am I here?”

“You lost consciousness, Angel.”

You stepped back when you heard his voice nearer. Unlike back home, you didn’t know the layout of the room like the back of your hand. You were utterly and truly helpless in his presence. You only had yourself this time. “I want to leave.”

“You need to get treated, Angel-”

“I want to leave!” you screamed at him, your hands now shaking uncontrollably from having to face the person who destroyed your world.

“Angel, calm down,” he implored, worry apparent in his voice but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter what he felt. You wanted him gone. You wanted to get away from this situation. You wanted to go home where everything was familiar. You wanted to hold your son again. You wished he never found you again. You wished that you could just wake up from this nightmare and back to your life.

Suddenly, the back of your leg collided with something solid, and you lost your footing. The room tilted as you fell, the moment drawn out, weightless—until strong arms caught you before you hit the ground. His reflexes, honed from years of instinct, were faster than gravity.

You were in his arms again.

For a breathless moment, you were in his arms again. Your body stiffened immediately, every muscle tensing in protest. Panic flared hot in your chest, overwhelming every sense. The touch you had once welcomed now filled you with terror. You shoved at him, desperate to get away.

“Don’t touch me!” Your voice was sharp, trembling with fear, and you struggled to free yourself, needing to break the contact. He loosened his grip, and you stumbled back to the floor, but his eyes never left yours.

“You’re scared of me…” he said in horrifying realization. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever want you of all people to be terrified of him when he had been nothing but gentle to you. Not when you looked at him before like he held all the answers and hang all the stars in the sky- too opposite of how now your eyes never left his in terror that he would do something terrible to you. Now, your wide, terrified gaze was locked on him as though he were something dangerous, something monstrous that might strike at any moment. The realization seemed to tear him apart, slowly, painfully.

“I-I’d never hurt you,” he stammered, his voice shaky with desperation as if each word might be the last thread keeping him tethered to something he no longer understood. “You have to know that Angel–”

“Don’t call me that,” you cut him off, your voice harsh as you pulled yourself further away, dragging yourself from his reach, from his proximity. And inching toward any corner. The endearment that had once meant so much now felt like an insult, a reminder of everything he had taken from you. His very presence was a wound you were desperate to escape, a scar you could never heal while he was near.

He recoiled at your words, the pain in his eyes deepening as if the rejection physically hurt him. "Please... I’d never—"

"Stop." Your voice shook as you raised a hand, as though the very sound of his voice was too much. "You don’t get to talk like that. You don’t get to act like you weren’t planning to use me and kill me the first chance you got."

A deafening, soul-crushing silence settled over the room, so thick and oppressive it felt like you could choke on it. The accusation hung in the air, heavy, suffocating, leaving no room for either of you to breathe. His face went blank, as if every emotion had been stripped away in an instant, leaving behind only a hollow shell. His eyes searched yours, trying to find something, some trace of the person you used to be, the person who used to believe in him.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he already left. His presence felt ghostly, his body frozen as if he couldn’t bear the weight of your words.

“Is that why you are so scared of me? Is that why you let me believe that you were dead?” he asked lowly, disbelief apparent in his tone. Was all the agony he endured because of a misunderstanding, a mistake on his part?

Your heart skipped a beat. What?

He believed that you were dead?

"What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, confusion mixing with the fear that still pulsed through your veins.

Suga took a shaky breath. If you could see him, you’d see the tears pooling in his eyes, glistening as they threatened to fall. His gaze never wavered, locked onto yours, a painful mixture of sadness and confusion reflected in the depths of his eyes. “T-that night, Angel, you disappeared. We couldn’t find you anywhere. You just…vanished without a trace-” he paused, swallowing hard as if the memory was too painful to relive. “Everyone said that you died. Everyone told me that it would be impossible for you to survive that fire, not after the wounds you got. I never believed them. You must understand. I searched for you—years, Angel. Years of believing I lost you forever."

Your stomach twisted as his words settled in. The intensity of his gaze, the genuine anguish in his voice—it was as if he truly believed what he was saying. He had spent all this time believing you were gone, that you had died. But how? Why?

None of this made sense.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of disbelief clouding your mind. Your heart pounded in your chest, and your pulse roared in your ears as you tried to hold onto your version of the truth—the one you had built to survive. "I didn’t let you believe anything," you whispered, your voice shaking. “You’re lying. You’re making a fool out of me again. You didn’t look for me because you wanted me gone! H-he told me that if you find me…that you’d kill me. That you’re scared of being exposed for who you are-“

"Who’s he, Angel?" His voice was soft, but there was a hard edge beneath it—an urgency, a desperation to understand what had led to this moment, what had driven you so far away.

You froze, realization crashing over you like ice water. No. You shouldn't have mentioned him. If Suga thought you had died, then maybe—just maybe—he believed that Hoseok had disappeared with you in the fire. If that was true, he had no reason to go looking for him. No reason to discover what you were protecting.

But time was running out.

Not just for you, but for Hoseok.

Kim Seokjin knew what you were hiding, and the longer you stayed here, the closer Suga would get to the truth. If he ever found out about your son…

Your breath hitched, panic clawing at your throat. You couldn't let that happen. You couldn't let him find Hoseok. "It doesn’t matter," you said quickly, your voice cracking as you tried to mask your fear, but you knew it was too late. His eyes narrowed, sensing the shift in you.

"It does matter," Suga said, his voice growing harder, his patience wearing thin. "Tell me who’s been feeding you these lies, Angel. Who made you believe I wanted to hurt you?"

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words press against your chest. His eyes were locked onto yours, searching for any sign of weakness, any crack where you might let the truth slip. But you couldn't. If you did, everything would fall apart. You would endanger your son.

"You’re not going to tell me? Fine," he said after a moment of tense silence, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. "We have the rest of our lives to figure this out. But make this clear: you will not make me live without you again. I’m not letting you leave me."

“You can’t make me stay here!”

Suga’s lips curled into a slight, unsettling smile. "Oh, Angel," he murmured, taking a slow step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I can."

Your pulse quickened as you backed away, but there was nowhere left to go. The walls, the room, his presence—everything felt too close, too suffocating.

"You said you loved me once," he continued, his voice soft but chilling. "I told you then... you can never take that back."

Your heart pounded violently in your chest, the words hanging over you like a sentence. You had once loved him, but that love was gone, buried under fear, pain, and the desperate need to protect your son. Yet to him, that love still tethered you to him—unbreakable, inescapable.

"Things have changed," you whispered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

Suga shook his head slowly, stepping closer until the space between you was almost nonexistent. "No," he said quietly, almost tenderly, "the only thing that's changed is that now, I know what it feels like to live without you. And I'm not going through that again."

He reached out, his hand ghosting near your arm, but you flinched away, causing a flicker of something darker to flash across his eyes.

"You don’t get to leave, Angel. Not this time."

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

Why is tumblr

Why is the dark romance side of tumblr so dead these days

Where are my favorite dark romance authors 😭

I need a good fictional mafia/ceo man in my life

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

240510 - melon exclusive photo

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

Heeramandi made me realize two things

1. God is a woman 👑✨

2. Devil is also a woman 😭❤️

The man, the myth, the legend- SANJAY LEELA BHANSALI MAY YOU LIVE LONG 🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿

Like what the hell are these aesthetics 😭😭😭

Pinterest takes notes from sanjay leela bhansali ❤️

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

Oh gosh!!!! Whatta story!!!I usually never interact much with anyone on this app except for a little heart here and there But Oh my!!! Yoongi here is making me blush

Authornim please kiss your hands from my side for writing latibule and letting us reader's read it for free. I would have never forgiven myself if I had missed out on reading this yoongi..and I am glad I found you. There is so much attention to detail in your story...I cannot stop them describing them

Also like what is this new dimension you have given to hobi..bby is a sunshine but here he is someone's eclipse 😭😭😭😭😭😭

There is so much pain in mc's story that I want to understand her reasons of choosing to leave yoongi but I still want her to forgive him 🫣

The final nail in the coffin is yoongi is having a little yoongi here and I am so excited to read about his dad side of things..omg so cute uwu 🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🥺🥺🥺🥺

I love you soooooooo much Authornim..thank you for existing 🌹❤️

Sorry for the over excited rant 😭

Latibule Season 2: III

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, 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: As promised :) Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoy!

GIF by urmingirl

Masterlist, Latibule 2.II

Taehyung looked up from his cellphone to his eldest hyung that was currently cooking their dinner. He pouted when he was not given the appropriate amount of attention he should be given. Honestly, he deserved it! After a moment when he still did not get what he wanted, he finally asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.

“Hyung, is it always like that?”

“Hmm? Like what, Tae?” he asked while chopping diligently the vegetables the renowned doctor was preparing for a certain psychologist and his brothers that insisted they were hungry as well.

“When it ends…does it always hurt like that?”

Seokjin blinked at Taehyung’s unprompted question. He paused before he finally brought his eyes to the actor. He knew that the younger man had always been eccentric. His clinical condition definitely explained his behavior, but not this. He was never curious about the emotions he couldn’t feel, nor did he ever show any interest on understanding emotions. As the years passed by, Kim Taehyung got better at masking and pretending by learning the root causes of the emotions he could see. The brothers had always thought that this was precisely why he chose to be an actor. Everytime they watched him cried, laughed, or acted furious for his movies and dramas, they thought he was a different person.

Jin thought it was just understandable why he dropped the knife he was holding.

“What brought this on?”

“He-“ he lifted his mobile phone to show Jin the picture Jimin snapped of their Yoongi hyung looking like he had lost all his will to live. Taehyung found it so ridiculous that Jimin even made a collage of him and a cat that depicted their hyung. “-looks like breathing is a chore and is only fighting to live so he can end his enemies.”

Jin would have laughed had this happened before he met his sunshine. But now, the mere thought of her leaving set him on edge, and he knew he would be similar to Yoongi if not worse. Slowly, he picked up his knife as he carefully chose his words. He was always like this with Taehyung ever since he knew that something was not quite right in his mind, well…more than any of them, to be honest. The younger man took things at face value, and all the brothers knew to talk in a straightforward manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion on Taehyung’s part.

He kidded you not, once when they were still teenagers, they asked him to go ahead and get them a table in a restaurant. He left without any qualms only to return not an hour later carrying a big ass table from a restaurant. That was a horrifying memory, Jin thought, and that was when they all decided to change the way they talked. It was Namjoon that took it too far and enrolled the man in a body language class to better cope with society. However, it was Jungkook that forced him to take psychology classes with him for fun.

“I think it’s different,” Jin started, busying himself once again with cooking. “Yoongi never has love like that, I guess. It’s understandable that he acts like a sad lonely cat.”

Seokjin could still clearly remember how Yoongi looked at you. It was like you were all he ever wanted and more, like you were his reprieve from the darkness in his life. You were, as he called you, an angel to him. And then he lost you.

“Why?”

“Well…she’s his personal slice of heaven,” he answered, his voice contemplative and understanding of what Yoongi was going through. Jin paused in his chopping, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he carefully considered his words. “And he’s been living in hell the very moment he was born. What do you think would happen if he was given a taste of heaven and then lost it?”

“Just like Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung nodded, slightly understanding the downfall of these strong men.

“Seriously, you are all worse than the ahjummas who love to talk about other people’s lives. Be better than that, guys,” Kim Namjoon observed with his deadpanned voice as soon as he walked in the kitchen. He took in the scene of the two men conversing and the other man quietly eating the snack Jin prepared him.

Jin scoffed as he rolled his eyes at Namjoon. “As if you wouldn’t react like that when your secretary finally resigns.”

To which, Namjoon only smirked. “Who says she can leave?”

“How will you stop her and her son if the father finally shows up?”

Namjoon, with his hand in his pocket, calmly uttered words that no normal people would believe to have any other meaning. “Well, as you said, the dead don’t exactly come back to life, do they?”

 Jin chuckled at Namjoon. Of course, he did something about that man. It was apparent, he thought. He could still vividly remember the look in Namjoon’s eyes when he told him that his secretary was pregnant and that the asshole of a father even put his hands on her. Suffice to say, it was the most unhinged Namjoon ever was.

“I think Namjoon will be the worst among us if he ever loses the love of his life,” Jin noted with lightness in his voice.

“Nah,” Jungkook finally lifted his head from his bowl. “I sincerely think it’ll be Taehyung.”

The conversation never left Jeon Jungkook’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t need anyone to tell him to do this. He did this out of the bond he shared with his brothers. Had this happened to any among them, he would have done the same.

He thought that it was cruel to let them experience the same hell he had been living every single day.

And so, he worked tirelessly and utilized every available technology and connection he had just to look for Yoongi’s angel. When he said she was alive, when he said he felt in his heart that you could have not gone where he couldn’t follow, then he’d believed him. He wouldn’t lose anything by looking for you, Jungkook rationalized. But he didn’t want to unnecessarily get his brother’s hopes up until he had evidence that you were indeed alive.

One morning, it finally happened. There you were.

Jungkook’s eyes could not have gone any bigger as he watched the CCTV of a far province in his office.

That was you, he was sure.

Without a moment's hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialed the person he knew he could trust. "Hyung, can you come to my office?" he requested urgently, the excitement and disbelief evident in his voice.

“That’s her,” Kim Namjoon validated after a moment. He was standing beside Jungkook’s seated form as he leaned in the monitor. He was ever the image of calmness with his hand in his pocket, his suit immaculate and not a crease in sight.

Seokjin raised his brows as he sat in a relaxed manner on the couch. Jungkook didn’t even call him, yet he was here because he was, per his words, bored and that a certain sunshine was not where she should be. “So the dead can indeed come back to life,” he noted with a tone the two men couldn’t understand. “Pray tell, Namjoon-ah. Should we tell Yoongi?”

Jungkook blinked at the rising tension between the two men. Whereas Jin merely looked curious, Namjoon looked like he was looking at the end of the sword with the way his jaw was clenched. He stood up straight and took a second to answer Seokjin.

“Of course, hyung. This is a great news, after all.”

“Hmm,” Seokjin smirked, his legs crossed as though nothing could have fazed him. It was moment like this when Jungkook could see the mafia prince in his usually playful hyung. Everybody knew not to cross this man despite him appearing goofy and motherlike to them.

Jungkook thought that it would only take one momentous catastrophe for him to return to his dark persona. He didn’t want to see that, though.

“He’s suffered enough, right?” Jin asked the room with a light tone, yet his eyes pierced through Namjoon’s. “Right, Namjoon-ah?”

Seven Mississippis passed before he answered. Jungkook knew because he counted, and he hated the tension he didn’t know why was present.

“Jungkook, tell Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon ordered.

—-

Min Yoongi’s brows were pulled together as he walked in a bustling street of a faraway province. He had to drive almost four hours just because their maknae told him to be here at this exact hour, claiming that he desperately needed him to be there. However, Jungkook was not answering his phone despite numerous calls from him.

Where was even that little shit, Yoongi asked himself as he surveyed the whole place.  

Despite barely getting any sleep, he found himself in a situation where he might have to scold his youngest brother for the first time. He should have been in Seoul right now, but he couldn’t exactly say no to him. He had shit ton of things to do and yet he was indulging the youngest brother.

Maybe this was exactly why he was spoiled? Ah, but anyway, he was a good kid.

So where was he?!

He walked further into the thick of the plaza, his phone plastered in his ear as he listened to the annoying and incessant ringback tone of Jungkook. Seriously, at this day and age? His eyes roamed the area of happy locals, at which he rolled his eyes.

He was on the verge of deciding whether he should just go ahead and kill Jungkook when he finally answered.

“Where the fuck are you?” he growled over the other line, his patience running thin when the man just answered innocently.

“At Seoul, hyung-“

“Then why am I here?! I swear to heavens, if you made me drive here just to buy you a weird snack then I’ll really kill you!”

“Seokjin hyung will be mad!”

Right. The eldest was protective of the youngest. What a nuisance, he thought. “Then I’ll do it in secret.”

Jungkook chuckled nervously. He couldn’t place whether he was joking or not. His money was that if his hyung could get away with it, he’d be floating in the river at this very moment. “I asked you to go there because I have a surprise for you, hyung.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy surprises-” he began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“I know, I know. But this one, I’m sure you’ll like. This is the most beautiful, most precious, most amazing surprise ever. You’ll stop sulking and looking like a sad cat and Jimin hyung will finally stop taking badly captured and cropped photos of you and make it into a collage. Taehyung hyung will stop observing your miserable demeanor for his next movie. You’ll finally stop living like it’s such a chore and-“

His back was bumped by a force. Turning around, he prepared to glare at the perpetrator only to stop because there it was.

There was you.

It was as if the universe finally said that he had enough and stopped punishing him because he saw you when he was not even looking for you. Your mouth hanged agape, your hand going to your forehead as you murmured apologies to him.

He was stunted. No, he was bewildered.

Was this real? Or was this one of his cruel dreams again, a figment of his mind playing tricks on him?

But no.

He had been living in hell, yet moment he heard your voice, all the sufferings disappeared. This was really you. You were truly alive. He was frozen as his wildest dream was brought into life. His whole body went into a state of shock, something that he never thought could ever happen.

It didn’t really matter the years he spent without you because one touch, one word- these were all it took for him to forget the bitterness your separation brought him.

With a trembling voice, Yoongi dared to call for you. “Ange-”

But before he could say another word, you interrupted, your voice light and apologetic.

“I’m really sorry, mister. I didn’t see you,” you chuckled, slightly lifting your walking stick to explain the small accident. You bowed down at the man before going your way.

And he stood there, watching as the love of his life walked away from him, unseeing. He thought he could no longer hurt. He thought that nothing could have fazed him any longer. But he was wrong. Watching you walked, unseeing as you traversed the plaza with only your walking stick pained him.

How did this happen to you?

Was it because of the incident?

Was that why you couldn’t return to him? Because you weren’t able to?

Or did he miss all the glaring signs?

Slowly, he lifted the old phone you gifted him years ago to his ear. “You didn’t stop looking for her?”

Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “Well…I would never wish this hell on anyone, much less my brother,” he stated, his voice carrying a certain tone of sadness they often heard from him. “Go get her, hyung.”

The bustling city streets faded into a blur around you as you walked, your steps slow and deliberate despite the cacophony of noise that surrounded you. Your sight may have been almost gone, but your other senses seemed to have sharpened in response, each sound and scent painting a vivid picture in his mind.

You remembered that when you were younger, you read a passage from a book entitled, ‘The Song of Achilles’. You thought it was a well-written book, a love that transcended even death. There was a line your college friends always thought to be a masterpiece. But you never understood it. The line so many people loved never really touched you.

Until it did.

Until you understood each word written in that book.

“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

Because right now, the words made sense. You could recognize him despite your deteriorating eyesight. You knew him. He was here. And he was following you…to what exactly? Was he here to end you? Was he here to make sure that you wouldn’t tell the world of his secret identity?

Regardless of the reason, you tried to remain calm as Hoseok always ordered you to. You had no choice but to lead him back home, otherwise you were sure that he would be suspicious. The man that you used to love was perceptive, and any suspicious movements could alert him. From the moment you opened the front door to the time you closed it, you knew you only had a couple of seconds.

You fished the phone Hoseok gave you, one with tactile buttons and controls that made it easier for you to use it. You knew you couldn’t use the speech-to-text feature, otherwise he’d hear. And so, with a tense movement, you sent a message to him.

He’s here. Don’t come home. Leave with my son.

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

Desi encore here. Namaste to all my fellow desis. It finally feels like home when on an unknown app filled with firangis, I realized there are so many of us bearing the scent of gende ke phool 🏵️💓.

can we do a desi tumblr roundup? so we can all find each other? y'all we have to stick together! // reblog this post if you're desi sort of thing

Sure - reblog this post if you’re desi!

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

I am not a bengali

But I will say this

No one can celebrate navratri like bengalis do

The durga pujo vibessssss are insane ❤️

Oh to be a woman during navratri 🤌🏼😌

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

Serious: I am in need of some help

I’ve fallen behind on rent and am under threat of eviction!

I lost my job like 2 months back and it was hard getting a new one. I have one now that is better and more stable however I’m unable to pay the debt of my rent without using my entire 2 paychecks for the month of October!

This leaves me with absolutely no left over money for essentials like food but most importantly gas!

Gas is very expensive in California and without it, I can’t get to and from work.

Please, Only if you can! Can you donate some funds to my PayPal?

Even if it’s only a few bucks, I’d really appreciate it as it’ll allow me to have food and/or gas for the rest of the month!

If you can’t donate, I understand! Just spread this message around to help…

PayPal

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

This is so accurate. Being from a desi household i shouldn't even be fantasizing about min yoongi being my husband as my parents would never allow me to marry a guy who isn't desi, doesn't work as a software engineer, isn't afraid to be himself and eats meat (being delulu is the solulu guys) yet I am so shamelessly a whore for MIN YOONGI ❤️

To All the Boys I’ll Never Love because Min Yoongi has ruined every single man on earth for me 'cause he’s the only one who’s not included in the “man are trash” narrative and no one will ever reach his level so how could I even look at another man when he exists?

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

The frustration I feel when my favourite writers dont update regularly

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

no matter how much i drool over ranveer, kartik and vicky it's only shahrukh who can make me shiver and blush at the same time.

SRK is the solulu to my delulu ✋🏻😩

every shahrukh movie shows why he is Shahrukh and why no can be him

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

why is it always "its okay to not be okay" and not

Do Nainon Ke Pechida Sau Galiyare Inmein Kho Kar Tu Milta Hai Kahan Tujhko Ambar Se Pinjre Zyada Pyare

Udd Ja Kehne Se Sunta Bhi Tu Hai Kahan Gall Sunn Le Aa

Gall Sunn Le Aa Ve Kamleya Mere Nadaan Dil

💘

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

chhath pe baithne wala mausam hai, aur chhath se kudhne wale halat

My life summarized in a single sentence 👍🤘🏻

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

Tere vaaste falak se mein chand launga solah satra sitare sang bandh laaunga

Pov of vikram lander to Indian citizens

So so proud of ISRO 👏🏼