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sweetwolfcupcake · 11 months

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The Taste of Deceit( Hyung line Part One)

Request

Yandere Masterlist

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

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

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

Kindly excuse the typos and errors

*****

The night was young and the stars were restless.

The night was young and the club was booming.

The night was young…

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

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

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

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

“What specials do we have tonight?”

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

“Cosmopolitan, French 75 and Paloma.”

“Cosmopolitan with olives please.”

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

“I haven’t seen you before.”

He stated as a matter of fact.

“I joined a few months ago,” she replied

“I visited here last week.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The night was young and the stars were restless.

The night was young and the club was booming.

The night was young, yet when he smiled,

it felt like slow electricity pulsing through the air

Jin– Kim Seokjin.

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

The night was still young

And it was a long way ahead.

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

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

The night was young

And she had taken the first step

—------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re late. Again.”

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

Potential buyers

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

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

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

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

“Yes”

Just getting some confidential documents.

“I wanted to talk.”

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

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

“Why? I mean is everything okay there?”

“Oh no, I just miss them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When do you plan to go then?”

“Tomorrow?”

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

—------

“Liya! I have cooked your favourites.”

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

“Dad I missed you!”

Her father smiled and pulled her in for a hug.

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

She hummed, still smiling.

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

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

—----

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

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

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

—------

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

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

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

What was she doing?

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

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

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

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

—----

Drip

Drip drip drip dripdripdripdripdrip

Gurgrlegurlegurlegurglegurglegurgurgurgle—

“Huh?”

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

The drain was blocked.

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

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

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

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

Something just did not feel right.

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

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

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

The backdoor!

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

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

No.

It was unlocked.

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

No response.

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

No response.

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

Everything would be under control.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Kim Seokjin had realised it before her.

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

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

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

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

Why would he believe that even?

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

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

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

Today was the day– the day they first met.

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

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

He knew, he always knew.

“How long?”

Jin’s lips tugged up with smugness.

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

She took in a sharp breath.

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

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

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

There was no way out.

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

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

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

****

Min Yoongi was many things.

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

He was one of the leading industrialists after all.

To the world.

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

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

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

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

The police, who else?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nearing him, Yoongi leaned closer, whispering in his ear

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

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

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

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

“Raven”

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

Cyanide.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No blood on his hands on her birthday.

—---

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

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

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

“You came? I thought you were busy.”

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

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

“I baked some cookies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I wanted to.”

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

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

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

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

—----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-Yoongi…”

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

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

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

“No” she whispered, making Yoongi pause

“No?”

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

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

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

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

RUN!

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

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

“Min Yoong, you are under arrest!”

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

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

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

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

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

“We have it all recorded you scum!”

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

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

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

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

Soon, Love…Very Soon.

—-----

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

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

He liked the fear.

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

Good.

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

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

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

“Mission Raven Completed,”

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

“Your game is over Min Yoongi.”

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

—-----

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

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

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

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

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

And yet…

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

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

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

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

A phone number!

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

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

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

What is this?

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

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

—--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What kind of question was that?

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

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

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

“Wh-what? What kind of question—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She sighed before explaining

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weren’t you always his fucking pet?

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ma’am, a drink for you.”

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

“But I did not order anything.”

“The gentleman bought you this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have my car.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr Jung, I did not that she is—”

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?”

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

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

“Yes, I came here with my friend.”

“And you are leaving alone?”

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

Now what if he was the host?

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

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

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

—-----

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

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

“Good afternoon, Love!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like, out of this place? This city?”

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

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

A vacation…

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

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

But the real question was…

Was she safe?

She pondered as she held the phone in her grip.

****

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

“Shit!”

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

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

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

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

There was someone in the apartment with her!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was banned from the kitchen for a reason.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A year Joon, a year has 365 days.”

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

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

Ring! Ring-ring!

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

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

It was their dinner.

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

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

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

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

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

—-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until that one night.

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

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

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

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

—----

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

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

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

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

Their superior’s eyes turned grim as he sighed.

This did not seem good

“48 kilograms.”

The room fell into a tense silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Han nodded at his words before he continued -

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

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

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

“Sure sir.”

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

“Sir, the case has been–”

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

“May I know the reason, Sir?”

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

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

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

(Y/N) frowned at his response

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

“A name?”

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

“So–so who is this?”

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

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

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

“So, what do you want me to do?”

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

“Sure, Sir.” she squared her shoulders

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

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

“And (Y/N).”

“Yes, Sir?”

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

“I will keep that in mind, Sir.”

“Okay, you can go now.”

—-------------

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

Perfect…

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

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

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

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

She gulped, then blinked.

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

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

“Oh, Hi Namjoon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The usual.”

She nodded to a waiter passing by

“Would you like to order Ma’am?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So we are on our own?”

“Definitely,” Han added.

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

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

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

“The weekend then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This weekend then.” Dok reminded.

“This very weekend Dok,” Kyong assured.

—-----------

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

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

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

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

“Cancer.”

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

“Oh, the type?”

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

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

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

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

—------

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

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

“Okay, you have your informants inside?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kyong, this might be important.”

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

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

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

—-----

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

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

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

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

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

Wait–CCTV footage!

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

“Really? What?” Han asked,

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, she has gone to her parents’.”

“Perfect.” Kyong clapped his and together.

—------

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

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

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

“Quiet possible.”

As soon as Han clicked on ‘play’, the strenuous task of analysing the video began. But four pairs of eyes were far better than one.

(Y/N) could feel her patience waning. The man and those people with him had been so exceptionally discreet, there was no trace of them in the footage even after hours of watching and—

“Wait, wait wait! Rewind that.” She jumped up as soon as something caught her eye.

“What, this?” Han was clueless.

She tasked and took the laptop before rewinding the footage again. Narrowing her eyes, she zoomed in.

“It's him, the man.” She declared and placed the laptop in front of everyone.

“I see. We need to save this picture, take a screenshot Han.” Kyong suggested as he clicked a picture on his phone too.

It was thankfully, not blurry enough to be unrecognisable, and the fact that they had not reached the end of the video made them more hopeful of catching something else.

Han clicked on play again before they discovered the people with the man as well. One by one.

“Hmm, there are three more men and a woman. But only their backs are visible until now.”

“Wait!” (Y/N) yelled out, catching them off guard.

“Did you find something?” Han asked as he paused the video once more.

(Y/N) licked her lips and took hold of the laptop. Rewinding the part, she watched closely again. The second man…Even though his back was to the camera, he was too familiar to her.

After a few seconds, they all turned to the side to take their seats. There, she could see his side profile and her legs were fast turning brittle.

“You have seen anyone from here (Y/N)?” she could not answer Dok.

Instead, her eyes stayed on the frozen screen, she zoomed in and a wave of nausea hit her.

Namjoon...

It was Namjoon!

Her boyfriend Namjoon. She would recognise him anywhere– from the way he walked, to his back, his hair and now his side profile. Too many coincidences could never be a coincidence.

“(Y/N), you know him?” Kyong asked.

Yes.

She wanted to scream a ‘yes’ but she just could not.

“No, I was just…taking a good look at them.” she deadpanned.

—------

“Hello, this is (Collage Name) College, how may I help you?” The receptionist’s gentle voice echoed through the phone, but it only turned (Y/N)’s heartbeat erratic.

“Hello, I would like to leave Professor Namjoon a message regarding the upcoming semester.”

“Let me check Ma’am, please let me know your details.” She requested

“ Choi Hana, Guardian of his student.”

“I request you to stay online, please…Yes, thank you, Professor Namjun you asked. Let me transfer your call to the Economics Department.”

“Economics Department? But isn’t he a professor in the Department of Literature and Culture Studies?”

“Ma’am we only have Cultural Studies Department. Literature is a separate Department. Shall I forward this call, Ma’am?”

“Okay.” (Y/N) managed to squeak out.

After a few beeps, another voice greeted her.

“Good afternoon, this is the Department of Economics of (College Name) College, how may I help you?” Another woman’s voice filled her ear.

“Can I speak to Professor Namjun, please? I am a guardian of one of his students”

“I am sorry Ma’am, he is attending the Department meeting right now. But you can leave a message.”

“He is the department chairperson, right?”

“No Ma’am, not anymore, he was, two years back.”

“Oh?”

“Yes Ma’am, would you like to leave a message?”

“Sure, please let him know that…that I would be thankful to him if he could give me an appointment to meet him. It's an urgent matter.”

“Surely ma’am, would you like to share your name and contact?”

“Yes, uh, Choi Hana.” she gave the email address she used for her undercover investigations before the line was cut off.

(Y/N) felt her throat close up and her eyes turn blurry. The park was scarcely populated during the afternoons– thanks to that. But she would still not risk breaking down in a public place. Se ought to hold herself up like a true officer.

Leaning against a tree, she tried to gather herself together. But with each passing moment, her lips quivered just a little more.

No. Not now. Now now!

She tried to school herself. But nothing seemed to work. One stubborn tear managed to escape her eye anyway.

I loved you.

Another tear followed.

I trusted you

Then another.

But she managed to stop herself from bursting into a fit of tears and the scream that was itching her chords with deep, calming breaths.

A drink.

Yes, that was what she needed.

—-----

By the time she was home, the sun had already set, but it was a pleasant evening– ideal for walking home. She was not drunk, or even tipsy. It was just a buzz but it could not make her feel any better.

The apartment was plunged into a tense darkness when she stepped in. Her fingers twitched, ready to reach for her gun at any moment, but she kept her body language calm– casual and unassuming.

“How was babysitting?”

She jumped at his voice. But it was too dark for her to see.

Before she could reach the light switch, Namjoon switched on a table lamp, illuminating the space enough for her to see him sitting on the sofa but somehow making her own apartment appear threatening.

With him in it, the place did not even feel like her own. She no longer felt safe with him.

Switching on the lights anyway, she schooled her expressions to that of being pleasantly surprised, even though her throat felt parched. Sometimes, working in the police paid off immensely.

“I was babysitting yesterday Joon,” she replied, putting away the titbits she had bought on her way home.

Namjooon gave her the heart-melting smile her heart had fluttered for. She managed to smile back at him as she made her way towards the kitchen. The delicious aroma of her favourites hit her. Switching on the kitchen lights, her suspicions were confirmed as takeouts from her favourite ramen stall awaited her at the kitchen island.

“I missed you awfully today. Couldn’t help myself.” Namjoon's hot breath teased the back of her neck, making goosebumps appear all over her body.

“Oh, Joon…you didn’t have to.”

“I don’t mind doing this for you, Jagi.” He placed a kiss on the back of her neck as she held back a grimace, keeping her smile plastered on her face.

Her heart stung bitterly as his lips tenderly traced her cheek and the side of her neck. She was greeted by his warm smile and soft eyes as he turned her around, fished out his phone from his pocket and played her favourite song. Perfect for slow-dancing to.

“What has gotten into you?” (Y/N) chuckled, keeping her composure as he led her steps, twirling her now and then.

“I love you so much, Jagi. You know that right?” his fingers wrapped gently at the back of her neck as he pulled her into a breath-robbing kiss.

“Yes, I know that.”

Now that I know your true face.

His lips descended to the side of her neck as he pulled her closer.

Bear it.

She told herself.

Do not let him be suspicious.

“Then why are you trying to investigate me?”

His voice dropped into something heavy and unrecognisable and everything stilled. But before she could think of anything, she felt his fingers pressing at the side of her neck and her eyes rolled back.

*****

Pheww! It was a long part, but I enjoyed writing it and hopefully, it would not disappoint you all!

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silv3rswirls · 3 months

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Anon asks: Can I request for BTS members dropping hints about their feelings to their female crush? tysm!!!

Anon asks: Can I pls request BTS and the subtle ways they show love to the person they like but are too shy to confess?

♡Seokjin♡

He’s pretty good at hiding his feelings if he wants to, and when he decides he wants to start giving you more hints about his feelings he’s still fairly subtle with it.

He’ll compliment you more. He makes sure to mention the outfits or accessories you’re wearing that he thinks look nice.

He offers to cook for you or invites you to have dinner with him so you can try this dish he thinks you’d like.

♡Yoongi♡

He’s a bit stubborn with his feelings, maybe a bit unsure of when he should tell you. He wants to know for sure that you could reciprocate his feelings if he’s going to tell you.

He makes more time to spend with you. If you’re interested, he offers to let you come to the studio and see a little more about how he makes his music.

He’ll invite you to go out for drinks to talk to you more.

♡Hoseok♡

It’s fairly obvious that he has feelings for you, but it seems you’re just not picking up on them. He wants to wait for what feels like the right time to confess to you.

He wants to spend more time with you. Whether it be through shopping together, catching lunch, texting way more, etc.

He tries to get to know you even more than before and takes a lot of interest in what you like, your favorite foods and activities, and such.

He tries to make you laugh any chance he gets.

♡Namjoon♡

He’s pretty level-headed with his feelings and tries to act like his feelings for you haven’t changed, but can’t help it at times.

He tries to share his interests with you more. Art, reading, and any music he may be working on. He takes an interest in your likes as well as a way to get closer to you.

Comes up with silly excuses just to spend more time together.

♡Jimin♡

He flirts with you, but not in an obvious way? A lot of his actions teeter the line between friendship and romantic interest. But it seems that literally everyone but you knows he has feelings.

He wants to be around you 24/7, always inviting you out with him. He never stops complimenting you either, many times people already mistake you for a couple while in public.

He’s critical and just a tad jealous of any guys that approach you.

♡Taehyung♡

He takes a lot of time to figure out and be sure of his feelings before he tries to make you notice him more.

He texts you all the time, always complimenting you and giving you suggestions for jewelry or little things he thinks you would like. He gives you gifts and offers to take you out all the time. He is on a mission to woo you.

He does literally anything but outwardly telling you that he has feelings for you.

♡Jungkook♡

He’s always so confident and comfortable with himself, but whenever you’re around he feels himself get a little shy.

He’s easily jealous of other guys that might try to flirt with you. He’s always sticking at your side when you’re together. He’s touchy, always putting an arm around you, or pulling you around to show you something.

He hypes you up so much. All your outfits, your hair that day, how good you did on a project, etc.

He’s stubborn though and will not confess until he feels like it is the right time. Everyone around the two of you is just waiting for you to get together because it's so obvious.

#bts reaction #bts x reader #bts imagine #kin seokjin #jin #min yoongi #suga #jung hoseok #jhope #kim namjoon #namjoon #rm #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #v #jeon jungkook #jungkook

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seokjinsonlyone · 9 months

Text

this is how i think bts would be if you were in an on again off again relationship

a/n: i'd like to interrupt my regularly scheduled drought to drop off this headcanon that nobody asked for <333 lemme know what you thoughttttttt

namjoon:

"why do you let me treat you like this?" you asked, pushing at his chest forcing him to lay straight down.

“you don’t wanna be on top?” he asked brows furrowed, undoubtedly confused seeing as you were the one that climbed on top of him. he tried to sit up, but you kept your hands flat on his chest not allowing him to move.

“no. why do you let me treat you like this?” and you weren’t referring to the position at all. you were talking about the way he always let you back into his bed, back into his heart.

every time it didn’t work out with someone else, you’d call him and he’d answer every time. he would kiss you all over until it didn’t hurt any more and help you put the pieces of your heart back together. kept it safe for you until you were ready to give it out to someone else. and every time you walked away he let you.

here, now, sitting in his lap, in the exact position you’d been in countless times, a wave of deja vu so strong you couldn’t even pretend to ignore it any more passed over you. all lust abruptly replaced by confusion and the only thing running through your mind was why?

he gently removed your hands from his chest and sat up. a subtle reminder that he had more power than you realized. he kept you close to him his hand on your lower back, keeping your chest pressed against his, leaving you nowhere to look but right at him. "because i love you. and i want you. in any way you'll let me have you."

you shook your head fiercely. "you're too good, joon. you don't deserve any of this."

"then do better. be better. for me."

you opened and closed your mouth multiple times, left speechless at his suggestion. "i- i don't deserve any of this. i don't deserve... you," you concluded, eyes cast downward.

he tipped your chin back up. "you deserve everything. and more."

seokjin:

"i'm sorry. i didn't want to call you but..."

"it's fine, hobi, really."

"are you sure?"

you nodded giving him as kind of a smile as you could muster. "i can take it from here."

he pulled you into a hug anyway. you were grateful for it. it gave you a little bit of strength and lord knows you were gonna need it to deal with the drunken mess before you. "alright seokjin. come on. get up now. i'm here."

you couldn't keep in the giggle that slipped out as he popped up, the complete opposite of the dead weight he'd allowed himself to become, refusing to get off the floor unless you were the one picking him up.

"i missed you," he slurred, latching onto you, head obviously swimming, thoughts lost to the whiskey he downed with his friend.

"i missed you too," you admitted. it wasn't like he was going to remember in the morning. "we gotta go now. hobi wants to go to bed."

he perked up once again at the mention of hobi's name. "ohhh yeah j-hope. thank you bro!"

you heard him giggle from down the hallway and call out a "take care!" as you stumbled out of his home.

you huffed as you made your way down the street. seokjin wasn't that heavy but he was nearly six feet and really leaning into you. it was a good thing they lived in the same neighborhood. you hummed along to whatever he was babbling about, not really paying much attention until he suggested the one thing you knew you couldn't do. "stay with me."

"i will. just until you get to sleep," you replied, taking his keys from him and letting you both inside, opting to play dumb.

even in his inebriated state he wasn't having it. he gripped your hips. "not just tonight. forever."

you sighed. "seokjin... we want different things. you know it won't work. we tried and it didn't work."

"i'm different than i was before. i don't care about all those other things. i want you. as long as i can have you, i have everything."

you shook your head. you weren't having this conversation when he was drunk. "come on. let's get you to bed."

he relented, letting you move him around as you pleased, undressing and redressing and just before he finally succumbed to slumber he grabbed your hand one last time. "stay."

yoongi:

"are you going to stare at me passive aggressively all day or are you going to say something?"

you didn't appreciate his attitude at all, so you had no problem pointing out what'd been bothering you all morning. "there's a mark on your neck."

he furrowed his brows in confusion, raising his hand up to feel around before walking to the mirror in the hall to see what you were talking about. "hmmm... that's weird."

"yeah i think so too," you spat. "imagine my surprise when i wake up and see that on you after you were out all night with namjoon doing god knows what."

"crossfit."

"what?"

"we were doing crossfit."

"i don't know who that is or why y'all chose that codename, but it's stupid as hell."

"it's not a codename. it's a type of workout."

"that leaves hickeys?"

"it's not a hickey. it's a bruise."

"on your neck?"

you could tell he was getting angry by the flush that was creeping onto his face and the way his nostrils were flaring, so it's not a surprise when he says "you can go if you want. no one's stopping you."

but you were ready for a fight. you'd been stewing ever since you woke up and found him in the kitchen, sipping on coffee with that mark on his neck. had been waiting around for an explanation and the one he was giving now was way too lame. "oh. so you want me to leave now?"

"no. i want you to trust me." he sat down next to you. "i just got you back. why would i go out and do something stupid like that? why would i go looking for anything else, when everything i've ever wanted is waiting for me at home?"

and suddenly all the anger in your body dispersed, transforming itself into shame, relief, love. you crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

he hugged you back for a moment then pulled away, swiping at the tears welling up in your eyes before they got the chance to fall. "don't cry, okay? just trust me."

you nodded. lord knows you'd follow him anywhere, but if he cheated on you, that's a trip you wouldn't make it back from. "i will. just don't go where i can't follow."

hoseok:

you jumped at the sound of his voice, accidentally dropping the shirt you'd just picked up.

"if you leave this time, don't bother coming back."

“i- i- i wasn’t.” you were.

it was dark in the room, so you couldn’t make out the expression on his face but the way he rolled over, back turned toward you spoke volumes. if you were leaving he didn’t want to watch you go.

you scurried to the bed, tucking yourself against his back. “hobi. i wasn’t.” you don’t know how you were supposed to convince him when you couldn’t convince yourself. “i was just cold.”

he grunted. you wrapped your arm around his middle, rubbing at his abdomen. “do you believe me?” you peeped.

“no.”

your heart cracked. “do you want me to go?” you wouldn’t blame him if he did. wouldn’t blame him for saving himself from you.

a beat of silence passed. he intertwined his fingers with yours. “no, but i want you to want to stay.”

you didn’t know what to say so instead you just hugged him closer and hoped that for now that could be enough.

jimin:

jimin was good with people. better with you. that's why you came back here again after three months. that's why you always came back.

jimin was too good with people. they loved him. he loved them back. he loved you more. at least that's what he always said.

it was hard to remember when he was touching and kissing on you in a way that varied from the practiced ease you were used to before you broke up. it wasn't bad but it had your mind racing trying to figure out who he was touching, loving, while you were trying to get over him.

took away any ability to focus on the feeling of his lips on yours, trailing down your neck, sucking and soothing the marks he was leaving on your collar bones. your lack of response had him reversing his path, kissing back up your neck, on your cheek, the corner of your mouth, until he was able to look you in the eye. "everything okay?"

you stared at him dazedly. he nudged your nose with his trying to regain your attention. "were you with anyone else while we weren't together?"

he opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish out of water. "i- i- yeah." he deflated at his admission.

you recoiled slightly. it hadn't been that long since you two decided that you wanted to work things out again. your heart was still tattered and torn. you felt a piece of it slip out of the confines of your chest.

"i didn't cheat on you," he defended.

"i know." and you did know. but it didn't stop you from feeling a hint of betrayal. while you were somewhere curled up unable to even think of anyone else, he was already on to the next thing. someone better than you probably. someone he wouldn't have to keep doing this back and forth thing with. a single tear slipped down your face.

he cupped your cheeks in both his hands. "it was one night, and it didn't mean anything. we had already been broken up for like two months when it happened. we've never been broken up for that long. i thought we were done for real this time," he explained softly.

"i know. i'm not mad. i'm just..." you needed to get out of there. you needed some space. you started gathered your belongings.

he grabbed your wrist before you could get too far. "babe... don't go," he whined.

"i have to. i need to think."

"think with me."

"i need to do this alone. i'll call you later."

you slinked out the door, head and heart a complete and utter mess, and spent the rest of the night wondering was it all worth it? is he worth it?

you came back in the morning. you always came back.

taehyung:

he frowned looking at his screen, you blocked him on instagram and like everything else. his messages weren’t even being delivered and every call was going straight to voicemail. straight away he could sense that this was different.

you two fought a lot and he could take some of the blame for that. he liked to pick fights with you probably more than necessary. he couldn't help it though. it was the only time he was sure he was on your mind. and he'd take the knowledge that you were seething over him over thinking you weren't thinking of him at all any day.

the fight that transpired a couple days ago, however, was not like that. it was major. it wasn't solved after a couple hours. the last thing you said to him was that maybe you two shouldn't be together and he agreed, and now he was here 2 days later, staring at his phone, with no feasible way to contact you.

he wasn't going to let that be the end of you. not over things he said in the heat of the moment, things he didn't mean, he'd never mean. he was in his car before he realized what he was doing. at your doorstep knocking before he thought of words to say.

you opened the door slowly, not entirely surprised at his presence but off put all the same. "yes?"

he just stared at you for a moment. you were so pretty sometimes he forgot how to speak around you. definitely lost his mind at times because he simply couldn't be without you, but he'd fix that. he'd be better as long as you took him back. "you blocked me," he stated dumbly.

"yeah."

"why?"

"bc we're not together anymore." you don't know what he wanted. why he showed up on your door stating the obvious.

he huffed, running his hands through his hair. "i didn't mean that. when i said we shouldn't, i- i didn't mean that."

"i did. taehyung our relationship is unproductive. we're not getting anywhere except on each other's nerves. let's just stop before we hate each other for real."

he stared at you in shock. he knew he could be petty at times. he knew when you two were fighting he said some things he probably shouldn't have, but how could you ever believe that he felt anything but love for you? he was so wrapped around your finger, so irrevocably yours that he couldn't fathom being without you. how could you not see that? his only problem was that he felt you weren't as invested as him and maybe he could've done a better job of communicating that and he would after he was sure that his last time holding you in his arms wasn't his last time.

he dropped down on his knees. "one chance."

"tae," you sighed.

"please," he begged, eyes getting teary, "give me one more chance."

jungkook:

you sighed leaning back from jungkook's embrace. his hands were lower than they should've been, grazing at the very top of your thigh right below your butt. you let him. you always did.

you stared at each other for a few more seconds. he was so handsome. he always was. kind eyes, sweet smile, hair all soft and fluffy. you wanted nothing more than to run your hands through it. you stopped yourself when you saw the way his eyes dropped down to your lips. time to pop the bubble you found yourself trapped in.

"thanks for the ride, jk. i had a really good night."

he whined out your name, hand going from lightly grazing your thigh to flatly palming it, attempting to keep you in place. "you really not gonna invite me in?"

you couldn't help yourself. you draped your arms around his shoulders, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, dopey smile set on your face. "what would i do that for?"

he wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing you tight, and nosed at your neck. "because i wanna make your good night a great night."

"mmm... i want that too," you agreed. and because you were a weak weak woman you couldn't help but peck his lips. he perked up at the feeling of your lips on his, but deflated once you continued talking. "but you know what i want even more?"

he averted his eyes, tongue poking at his cheek. he knew the answer to the question.

"i want you to be mine!" you chirped. he knew that. it was the only reason you'd even agreed to go out with him again. you'd given your heart to him so many times and just sat back and watched as he tossed it around carefully, strung you along for months with no promises of more. you were done with that though. you needed more. you told him that. he promised he'd consider it. it was the only reason he was standing too close to you right now. and until he could commit to you a peck on the front porch of your house was all he was gonna get.

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fruitmins · 11 months

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Victory | Namjoon

➭ summary: Namjoon is a wolf hybrid who has a dark past with humans that ultimately landed him in a boxing ring, so he tries his very hardest to hate every single one of them. Even his mate, who happens to be a human nurse who works for the boxing ring. But everything changes when he finds you bleeding out with marks all around you..

➭genre: hybrid x reader, drabble, angst, mate au

➭warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of killing, he gets protective real quick, hybrid abuse, a couple had words, the ending…

➭note: finals week Tuesday. i hate everything

“You’re winner, by knockout. RM!” Muffled cheers filled his stiff bloody wolf ears as the announcer dramatically swung his arm in the air.

No one cared about the other unconscious hybrid who was in a pool of his own blood on the other side of the cage. RM didn’t either. It wouldn’t be the first time he would have killed someone in the ring. The only thing he cared about was victory. The victory that would land him dinner and a day off.

Despite it being in his stage name, RM wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t always like this. He used to care about other things before he was shoved into the cage. Forced to entertain and damage himself and other for human entertainment.

RM spit out a wad of blood that had gathered in his mouth. He didn’t smile at the cheers, because they weren’t necessarily for him. It was for the people who had won money from bets.

“Alright let’s go.” A nasty shriveled male voice told him over the screams as he was yanked by the air and dragged by two men with vest and face masks to his room.

RM thought they were bold for their harsh movements. He had just beaten a lion hybrid to a plump, surely he could take them out. They should respect him. But the taser had boosted their ego. Tasers did damage, especially after a bloody match. That was the only thing stopping RM from clawing their face off as they shoved him in his small room.

Unlike when he lost, he was put in a room with lights. There was a semi-comfortable bed and old tv. That’s what winners get. A bed, tv and dinner. Losers get a dark black cold space where you sit and are placed on a list till a nurse sees you.

Since this was RM’s fifth win in a row he was placed higher on the list and his nurse came only thirty minutes later.

He could smell you as you came down the hall. Your calm and sweet scent filled his nostrils rather quickly. It always stood out from the other nurses. One of the reasons were that unlike you, other nurses hated treating such a beast like himself. They always smelled nervous and afraid.

Of course another main reason was that your scent was stronger than anyone else’s to him. Simply because you were his mate. There was no other way around it. His wolf had practically screamed it at him the first time you came to treat him. He’d never forget the upset and startled look on your face when he had suddenly jumped away from you with a growl.

You didn’t treat him that day, but he made a promise to never frighten you again. Instead he’d stay still while you treated him, answering your questions about his lungs or feet when you needed him too. It started a habit of you blabbering to him, either about his match or things on your mind. Human Namjoon wouldn’t admit it, but something inside calmed him whenever you spoke. There was a sense of calmness from you that transferred to him whenever you talked for to long.

Which was exactly what you did the minute you entered the room.

“Good evening, Namjoon.” You said with a sweet voice as you peeked your head through the door. Once you saw his familiar muscular build you came in, shutting the door.

He silently bowed to you, something in him telling him to be respectful. Like everyone else you had a taser on you but never used it. For you, it was as if it wasn’t attached to your hip. And unlike everyone else, you didn’t call him RM. You called him his actual name. How you found out he didn’t know.

“Congrats on the win.” You said once your light body hit the edge of the bed. “I heard a bunch of people doubting you. That you could never get up to five wins in a row, especially against a lion hybrid.” Your voice was mocking as you playfully rolled your eyes at whoever you were talking about.

“But I didn’t doubt you..” there was proudness in your tone and your words made him tense. He shouted at his wolf not to dance because of your praise. “You know you could beat the record for most wins in a row. It’s only seven.”

It was always weird how you were so comfortable about the fact that he almost tortured people for a living. So comfortable around him when he had almost killed a man a half hour ago.

He always wondered how you got yourself mixed into the mess. You could have been a doctor with your skills. So why weren’t you?

He tried not to dwell to much on you. Caring for humans almost killed him. He couldn’t make the same mistake, even if you were different.

“I can’t believe they haven’t gotten you your dinner yet.” You stated as you treated his knuckles. He didn’t flinch at the alcohol that poured onto his cuts before your wrapped it.

“Anything hurt? Teeth? Lungs? Feet? Legs? Tail?” You asked him routinely as you held up a water bottle. Without asking, Namjoon opened his mouth as you poured the water into his mouth. He stared at you curiously as you filled some water in his mouth before stopping.

He didn’t swallow it, swishing the water around his sore mouth before spitting it into a plastic cup that you were now holding. Water and a bit of blood came back.

“No pain.” He spoke for the first time, his voice coming back rough and deep as you hummed. “That’s a relief.” You whispered and he looked down, trying to keep his emotions in check. Why did you care so much about his condition? Probably because he was making you money no less.

“I’ll cry the day you break a bone.” You huffed and his ears twitched. You had been saying things that hinted you cared about him lately. He didn’t believe you, not for a second. But it still caught him off guard. And somehow, he did not like the thought of your beautiful doe eyes being red from crying. He’d have to be extra careful.

“Why would you cry?” He couldn’t help but ask. You were a nurse for God’s sake. You even treated the people he beat. Why would him breaking a bone be so horrible?

“I don’t know, I’ve never been good with seeing friends or people I know hurt. My dad came home with a broken leg once and I almost threw up.” You answered unfazed by his sudden interest. But this made him more curious. Friend? Were they friends? Maybe he was overreacting.

You talked about your dad sometimes. Not a bunch but more than you talked about your mother, which surprised him since you were so girlish and respectful. Who taught you that if not a mother?

“This’ll hurt.” You state before putting some alcohol on a cut that was on his forehead. It stung a little, but he didn’t flinch. He just watched your concentrated face as you worked your magic. He could admit that you were pretty, but even pretty humans couldn’t be trusted.

“I don’t know why but, I feel more comfortable around you than the other hybrids. Like, warm and fuzzy.. Is that weird?” You suddenly spoke as you planted a small bandaid on the cut.

Namjoon didn’t answer, instead he just looked away shamefully. No, it wasn’t weird. It was because they were mates. They were bonding. Namjoon had let his guard down and bonded with his human mate.

—————————

Two days later, he got his sixth win.

There were louder cheers when he won this match. He could tell people were getting more hype the more he fought. Your words came back to him. The thought of beating the record on everyone’s minds. The bullied rookie no longer stood. People no longer booed when he won. They screamed and blasted confetti. He didn’t know why, but he had become a fan favorite.

But still, you were his biggest fan of them all. You practically came skipping into the room forty minutes after the win. He could smell your excitement down the hall, but something else he could sense in your smell.

Another hybrid. Male. Lion.

His wolf hated it. He hated it. The smell made his nose burn and the thought of some other hybrid being all over his mate made his jaw clench. Especially a Lion.

“Good evening, superstar.” You greeted him with a smile, despite his nasty expression. “Everyone’s talking about you breaking the record. No pressure but I’d be big if you do. Just one more and you’ll tie and that’s already a huge accomplishment.” You we’re quick to ramble this time as you sat at the edge of the bed.

He hesitated to meet you at the edge like usual. He’d go crazy if he smelt more lion. You noticed and frowned as you looked at him with a confused expression.

“You stink.” He answered your wordless question with in a rough and disgusted tone. He could fight through a lot of things (literally) but not this. It was actually starting to make him ill in the chest.

“I took a shower this morning..” you mumbled to yourself taking your confused eyes away from him to look down at your visible skin.

You wore a tight pink shirt and paired it with a medium length white skirt that somehow wasn’t stained. A skinny black belt held it all together that matched the flats you wore. No wonder a lion had scented you. He bit the inside of his injured cheek in rage. Someone had marked you their territory.

“No. Like lion.” He clarified in a deep voice. He couldn’t let you be walking around here with everyone thinking you belonged to someone you didn’t.

“Oh.” You chirped as if suddenly realizing something. You had forgotten hybrids keen sense of smell. “Jay was extra close today..” you uttered. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Extra close his ass. He seemed to be all over you.

“If it bothers you that much…you have permission to scent me.” You suddenly offer in a low voice as he watched blush creep up to your cheeks. He doesn’t know why you offered, or how you even know that’s what he wanted to do. But he doesn’t take a second to think about it.

He scoots himself so his directly behind you while you’re at the edge of the bed. He wraps his arms around you and settles his interlocks hands on your stomach. He hesitates before taking in the little of your original smell that he can sense before planting his face on your neck.

He sits there for a while. He can obviously feel how nervous you had become so he takes a while to let you cool down. He lets himself get lost in the warm feeling of holding you like a mate should. He gets lost in the fantasy that maybe things can work. And when he notices that you’ve calmed down too, he begins to nuzzle his face into your neck.

He can sense how shy your getting but he moves slow not going lower than your shoulders until he finally forced himself to move away.

What the fuck was he doing? Snuggling up to some human girl he didn’t even know. Human girls like you abused him every chance they got. Did he forget about the taser locked to your side. How could his wolf betray him like this? How could he put himself in danger? You worked for the boxing ring that abused his kind. As sweet and innocent as you seemed, you couldn’t be that innocent.

He sat there in silence for the rest of the check up in silence. For the first time he didn’t listen to you rambling about the match or your childhood stories.

He was trying to fix the damage he had caused.

—————————

Two days later he got his seventh win in a row.

He knew you would be thrilled and despite everything, he was looking forward to your praise. He knew you would be proud of him, even if he didn’t officially past the record yet.

At one point in the match he started fighting for you rather than his survival. His mind was stuck on you the entire match. Once he felt like he was losing, he thought about how disappointed you would be in him. How much you were rooting for him and wanted him to succeed. How much he needed to see you happy again. That was enough to have him win the match.

And when his opponent had the audacity to land a punch on his stomach… He killed him.

And like any other time. He didn’t care. He cared about the victory. And he would do it again if he had to.

He was so wrapped up in his own mind that he hadn’t realized a unfamiliar person had made their way to his room until the person knocked on the door.

His body stiffened.

You never knock on the door. You poked your head through first, but never full on knocked. He always wondered why you don’t. It was almost like you knew that he knew about your presence.

Something snapped in him when he realized your sweet scent was no where to he found. Instead someones terrified scent replaced you and it made him crazy. He knew your schedule. Including you, there were only three nurses. You worked the days he fought, another nurse worked the days he didn’t. And another nurse for the weekends.

You were scheduled today so where were you? He asked himself angrily.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked in a firm and deep voice. Not giving the person any permission to enter.

“I-I don’t know. She didn’t show up today.” The female voice answers in a shaky tone. This doesn’t make him any less angrier or anxious. “I’m subbing till she shows up.”

You were missing. You had disappeared and instead of looking for you they replaced you with some weak idiot. He quickly got worried and protective. Wherever you were you needed to get found now. And he wasn’t counting on humans to find you. With their horrible sense it would take days to find you and he wasn’t willing to go that long without knowing you were okay. Not after he let his wolf bond with you.

Despite it being forbidden to leave the room, and he would most liking be spotted by the hundreds of cameras he quickly decided he had to find you himself. He didn’t care about the victory anymore. He didn’t care about breaking the record. He cared about you.

He stood up from the bed and it was easy for him to swing open the locked door, not even having to use his claws to tar through the lock. The woman’s eyes widen in shock when his tall huff figure was suddenly in front of her.

“Use that taser and your dead by the time the buzzing stops.” He threatens her with a low and assertive tone. He doesn’t give the poor nurse time to reply. He knew he scared her enough and with how shaky her hands were she would probably miss him anyways.

Now, he just had to find you before they found him.

Despite it being one of the biggest illegal hybrid boxing organizations, the building was small. There were three levels, the main level, the security/employee level and the basement. The basement consisted of the loser rooms and mostly plumbing and electrical wires. The security system and employee work stations were the highest level. The main level consisted of the main area and the winner rooms.

And then there was outside.

Somewhere Namjoon and the other prisoners were forbidden. It was impossible to make it outside anyways. The guards that had guns instead of taser, combined with the electric fence made it clear that anyone who tried to escape would be dealt with.

Namjoon had heard many stories about great fighters who died trying to escape. The place made hybrids insane. But the only thing that seemed to make Namjoon insane was the fact that you were missing. He would step outside if you were there.

Namjoon had just gotten done searching most of the first floor when he smells it. Your scent. It’s faint and sour but it’s you. Something in him tells him to follow it.

Now, it’s a race. A race for Namjoon to find you before they capture him. Because he knows that by now they have noticed him frantically searching everywhere for you on the camera. A huge wolf hybrid roaming around was sure to catch eyes.

He follows the scent, desperate to find out what was wrong and it leads him to the basement. This was his least favorite place to be, but he quickly enters anyways.

There’s an open hallway that leads to the loser cage, and to the right leads him to all the plumbing. Despite how horrible it smelt, your scent got stronger.

His ears perk when he can now smell blood in your scent. Pools of blood. Your scent isn’t just sour anymore, he can smell your fear. It was so strong it felt like your scent was calling out to him.

He quickly changes his pace from speed walking, to fill on sprinting down the hallway and to the right. The plumbing room is more like a corner it’s so small, so he quickly sees your bloody figure laid flat on the floor.

His face turns red as his heart thumps and for the first time in years he’s feels like he might die. He can barely breathe and his body becomes shaky.

He quickly runs to you, plopping down on his knees and taking you in his lap. He can see your face now, which is dangerously pale and filled with scars and bruises.

You can barely lift up your eyes to look at him, but when you do a small painful smile makes it’s way to your face. “Joon…” you manage to say in a shaky voice.

“Who did this? I need a name, a species, a smell for fucks sake.” He growls and he doesn’t realize he is in tears till one falls on your face.

“Please, don’t do anything crazy.” You plead when you see the absolute rage and heartbreak expression on his face, his hands wrapping around you tighter as he holds you close.

“I have already,” he states again to your confused face and he swallows a lump in his throat before answering. “I accepted you as my mate.” He reveals with a shaky voice.

Your eyes widen and you slowly lift up your hand to caress his face and wipe his tears. He grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest. “So tell me, who did this to you so they can hurt as much as they hurt us.” He says again and you open your mouth to reply to him but something behind him quickly steals your attention.

You let out a gasp as your eyes widen and filled with terror. Just as he realizes a bunch of heavy footsteps have made their way into the small space you yell.

“No, wait! Please! He didn’t do it—!“

Before you can explain and anyone can take in your words, three tranquilizer darts are suddenly shot into Namjoon’s back.

His body stills and tenses up before his eyes roll to the back of his head and he collapses into your blood pool.

Your cries are the last thing you both hear before the world turns black and cold.

#bts fanfic #bts ot7 #bts x female reader #bts x reader #bts one shot #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts reactions #bts x you #namjoon imagine #bts hybrid #bts hybrid fic #hybrid namjoon #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #rm x reader

672 notes · View notes

daichiduskdrop · 2 months

Text

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

• Chapter 38

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: more angsty than usual, mentions of self worth, abandonment

Words: 3557

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashionstyle-blog @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragonsflare @fangirl125reader @roseidol @frieschan @popcatx0 @liz67900 @exfolitae @plexcaffeinate @strawblueberrys @massivelyfullenthusiast @iimichie

I might have forgotten someone, please let me know and I'll add you, the list is open :)

So sorry for such a long break I took. I can't make any promises about updates until my finals, but I hope all is well with you. Please let me know if I'll forget any details in the chapters upcoming ;-;

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

„I wasn't sure which you'd prefer cub, so ...I got many.” The man of usual confidence spoke subtly, scratching his arm as he observed your wide eyes at the array before you.

The large plushy bed had different packages of all colours and styles laid on it; there had to be at least 20 different pieces to choose from—colourful, bold, minimalistic, and more simple cuts—all available.

You knew Jin was thoughtful and truly a caring man, an alpha of the right mind, and seeing all the different options he allowed you to have, just for the sake of your comfort, hit you deeper than you would expect.

You cried so much that day; you were exhausted from doing it over and over, and even as you wished you could just stop with these bothersome happenings, you couldn't help the small tears that brimmed your eyes as you looked at the nervous man.

The shiny eyes you gave him worried him immediately. Did you not like what he chose? Has he chosen too little or too much? Were you overwhelmed?

„Cub, baby, no, no, don't cry, I-”

As he reached for you, his arms grasping at your shoulders, you looked away, quickly wiping at your eyes as you sat at the side of the bed, the alpha doing so too right away.

„I'm sorry, Jin.” You oh so quietly whispered as you watched your hands on your lap, the alpha's hand coming to cover yours, his thumb rubbing over the soft skin.

He gulped away the slight shock of you using just his plain name instead of the honorific you seemed to prefer, though he would be a liar saying he didn't like it either.

„...What for? You don't need to apologise; you never did a thing wrong, you know that, right?” The worried gaze of the older man, as he softly spoke, searched yours, but to no avail.

"I'm sorry, it's so complicated with me.”

„What? Sweetheart you-”

„No, I mean it, Jin, I'm sorry that.. that I cry so much and I require all of these things you would never have to worry about before hand, that I'm so sensitive and closed of, that I bother you too much... I'm just sorry, okay?”

The drop that happened this afternoon took a toll on you; all could recognise, but the eldest didn't expect this—he didn't expect that you would start to apologise.

Apologise for the things they never would mind about you—all that could only strengthen your bond and help it solidify. Let them care for you. Did you not understand how much they needed you? You should depend on them; let them, for once in their lives, truly freely indulge in the option to care for someone else, fill their needs, and stop holding back.

„Y/N, don't ever say sorry for something that isn't to apologise for, okay?” His voice was soft, his palm squeezing yours gently. But you didn't answer, only a small shrug leaving you.

„...You know, when I was younger, before we debuted, it was so difficult to be an alpha, I mean. We would train all the time, have no time to create relationships, and hardly had time for our family packs, yet our relationship wasn't as strong as it is today, as you can imagine... It was a mess, a true mess.”

The low timber of his voice washed over you as you allowed yourself to listen to his calm voice. He wasn't fretting over you, staying serious and communicative instead of letting the sometimes overwhelming mindset of his second gender take over, much like they usually would when it came to you.

„Jungkookie was just a boy back then; he still went to his school, but I think it took the toll on him the greatest—me and the olders like Yoongi and even Minnie and Tae all already started to grow more self-sufficient; we all stopped being so dependent on our family packs, making the transition smoother, but gosh, ...Kook-ah was just too young.”

You recognised the regret in his voice, the way his voice lightly shook as he looked at the ceiling, blinking rapidly—he too was about to cry, you could tell. Yet as you were about to reach your hand from his and console him like he has done so many times for you, Jin looked over, a small yet smiley, watery frown on his face.

„No peaches, let me finish telling you about this; it's so important for you to know,” and you could only nod slightly, this time your fingers tightening upon his „about how much you help, I think you don't even realise.”

„He barely presented when we started as trainees, and we were all alphas, BigHit mostly highers alphas and betas only, especially for idols, so Jungkook hardly ever got to care for someone, anything really, and I regret ever letting him do it to himself, god, you don't understand how much I do.”

As one of the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen shed their first tear, the elder too was quick to wipe them away, mimicking just what you had done a while earlier.

„We could never fill that role for him; I could do so much for him—act as an older brother, be there for him during his graduation ceremony, and whatnot—but he was just so desperate to have a soul to care for... that, that we could never give to him.

And we needed one like that too, but no matter who BigHit would hire, gosh, it was just so uncomfortable, you can't even imagine. But that was the most we could ever get, unless we would have someone sign NDA's and other bullshit you just don't bring up on the first date, you know?”

The alpha sighed, reviving the old memories he had buried so long ago.

„Sometimes we would unintentionally just start coddling Kook too; he was the youngest, and it just happened on its own, but then later, as we got older, he would snap at us, all valid though looking back at it now...

I just... Y/N I just want you to know that we had never ever, and I promise you, I've met many, gotten around to such a precious gem like you are. Whatever we do with you just feels right, and you must understand, please, that you are far more precious to us than you'd ever think you are. And I'm so sorry we don't let you know enough.”

Jin looked your way, his eyes once again searching yours, now with much more vigour and need. He needed you to know just how well you filled that deep hollow carved in their chest throughout the years of disappointment and sadness.

„Jin-”

„I'm serious, Y/N. I would never lie to you about this. How could I? I know people didn't treat you the way they should; I know you are hurting deep inside; and I know one conversation like this just won't smooth the hurt away, and I'm so, so, very sorry it's that way. I'm sorry they hurt you, my precious cub, and I promise I'll never let you hurt alone again. Just let us be there for you, truly.”

This time, his voice was firm, his eyes holding yours until they blurred with tears. You felt sorry for them, for Jungkookie being so lonely, and you felt sorry for them, for you believed they deserved so much better than you could ever be there to offer.

And so you could only reach out for him, your hands clasping to his shoulders as the alpha lifted you over to his lap, letting both his and your tears cascade, soft sniffles and sobs filling the room.

The eldest held you like you were just the finest, most perfect work of art he was blessed to lay eyes upon. With care and the upmost love the man could offer, you deserved it all.

He let his chin rest upon the top of your head, and as you hid in the crook of his neck, your nose resting close to the scent gland offering a mean to calm you, you noticed a sad undertone you didn't recognise that well there, too close for your comfort.

Jin was upset; he was upset at how little you thought of yourself, how complicated your life has been, and how terribly the people meant to cherish you would treat you. He was so upset and just wished to take all the hurt you so delicately stored in your heart away and just heal you in his arms.

„...I just am s-so scared of getting attached... and losing you, oppa.” Your gentle voice against his ears, the reality of all the issues, drops, and tears shared with you and the pack downing on him.

You didn't want to let yourself be comforted deep inside, letting their words heal just the surface of the problems while the calm waves above hid the true storm below.

Gosh, he should have realised, Jin cursed himself as he held you just closer.

„Oh, Y/N, we would never leave you, sweetheart, never... Have you not seen how much we grew to you over time? We need you so much, Y/N, you can't even imagine.”

The man known for his confidence once again seemed to have lost his words, though his actions spoke louder as he just held you closer, letting the tears fall as his soft tears turned into loud sobs, holding you to his chest.

You let your legs wrap around his slim waist, the alpha answering by squeezing you even more, as if you were to disappear, to hurt when he wouldn't be there to offer his hold.

Not many times were offered for you to learn to comfort and console someone, but with them, it felt different, open, and never uncomfortable to do actions you'd never even think you'd ever even try with anyone else.

And so, you allowed your second gender tendencies to guide you, your own cheek flush against his neek and jaw as you rubbed your scent over the scent gland, sending distressed waves through the room.

Just as you were in the middle of the scenting, hopefully helping the alpha calm down, a soft knock sounded on the doors, followed by a deep voice you grew to recognise easily.

„Hyung? Kitten, is everything okay?”

To be truthful, the man sensed something wrong all too long ago, and so as he, Jungkook and Hoseok were preparing the little snacks like popcorn and drinks to have during the movie night, he felt his heart strings twitch.

But all seemed well around the kitchen and so in the living room, as Jimin and Taehyung argued about whether they should watch the first movie with Japanese dabing or Korean dabing with Japanese subtitles.

He couldn't see Namjoon, a soft frown settling upon his smooth complexion. Though he heard the close doors shut, he could smell the pack alpha approaching, just with a package in his arms, the two younger alphas gasping upon seeing him.

And so, that only left you and Jin, and after a while of the slight distress going through the bond, Yoongi grew worried the others would pick upon it too.

Not that he didn't want them to not know whatever was going on, but if it regarded you, he noticed how the large group could be just too much sometimes, and so he abandoned the softly popping popcorn, letting Hobi take over as he went to investigate.

As he came closer to Jin's bedroom, only then could he recognise the alpha's upset scent, shocking the younger. He realised he had only seen the eldest cry a handful of times and heard the soft sobs coming behind the room—no, that wasn't the sweet omega they grew to pamper over time; that was his hyung, an alpha who holds back his tears until the very last strength he holds, until he crumbles.

And for once in a long time, the usually calm and composed man grew unsure of his next steps. Should he let him be, or should he come in, one or another? But the moment he heard your sniffles, he decided to knock.

After his voice, it was quiet for a bit, and when he got no response, Yoongi gently cracked the doors open, a sudden heavy, distressed, and sad scent clouding his senses.

The man's eyes widened, yet he didn't peer into the room, choosing to face it sideways, as if to give you privacy. He wasn't there to giggle at your sadness; he wasn't there to oogle at you and tease you both later. No, he was there to help.

„Hey,... Hey, is everything okay? Should I go grab someone?” The slight unsureness of his voice made it easy to decipher that he did not know how to approach the situation. His hyung was an alpha after all; it would only do more damage if he started comforting him, and neither did Yoongi necessarily want to do so.

„N-No, it's okay, you can come in.” You had never heard Jin stutter, and the soft and defeated voice he held squeezed your heart.

The doors shut soon after, and it took a few seconds for the younger to compose himself, seeing the dishevelled older alpha and how softly you were scenting him. Even in the darkened mood, Yoongi saw the light; you looked comfortable, comforting the older. Another step towards the hopefully near future.

„...What happened?” He asked softly, coming closer with shuffling steps, his loose sweats, and a hoodie matching the sluggish movement of his.

The man too sat down next to you both; instead of hugging the elder, he chose to let his fingers gently comb through your hair and instead put soft eyes over the pair. Only then did you stop the profound scenting; your glossy eyes, too glossy for the alpha's liking, took hold of his worried gaze.

„...It's okay...me and oppa talked about some stuff.;” It was you who spoke up as Jin's soft sniffles quieted down, his hold lightly loosening as he sat up better.

The teary soft smile he gave you was heartbreaking, but you understood well what his eyes said: „We would never abandon you, never in a million years.”

And you felt comforted. You trusted the man with all you had; the littlest amount of trust you could offer was all theirs.

„I'm sorry, Yoongi-ah, I didn't mean to cry like this.” The bitter chuckle that left the elder had the other alpha in slight shock, his cat-like eyes widening.

„Hyung, I don't..." yet his sentence didn't follow, the man choosing to stay quiet, his palm falling upon the elder's arm in a small squeeze, possibly to comfort, acknowledge, or both.

Yoongi would lie if he said he didn't feel like crying at least once because of the hurt you stored in your fragile heart. He had never felt that way, which confused him slightly. He would have never cried because someone took their problems out on the one he grew to care for. Sure, he would have been angry, but not in the same way as with you.

„...Let's talk downstairs, okay? That way, you don't have to repeat anything uncomfortable.” Jin's lightly raspy voice sounded, and the softest peck imaginable landing just at your temple. A last squeeze was shared between you two as you slowly climbed out of bed. The other alpha was quick to take hold of your left hand as the eldest held your right.

And as you came closer to the living room, full of soft and sweet ruckus, the first to notice the reddened cheeks on Jin was the youngest, the doe eyes widening as he gasped a soft „Hyung!” abandoning the chip packet and approaching quickly.

Your eyes also shined too much for his liking, but before he could voice any distress, the second-eldest shushed him already.

„Let's all talk together, Koo.” Yoongi's voice was firm, shutting any questions about to spill as the others worried glances fell upon both Jin and you.

It didn't take long before you all took a seat upon the couches; all could be dispersed yet sticking together, your seat between the olders. Hobi was quick to offer you both a tissue or two, his distressed eyes set watching closely, as if to seek a way he could allow himself to help once.

None of the others were any better, just wishing to hold you close and never have to worry about anything wrong coming your way ever again. God, they'd do anything if it meant you'd be safe and sound.

"...Me and Jin oppa had a talk, and I...” Your soft voice, starting confident, seemed to grow colder and more shaky with each passing word, dying out too soon for their liking.

But with the men's fingers holding yours closer if possible, you continued, describing just how sorry you were for all the worry you put them through whenever they would take you out and how difficult you were, voicing your worries and distress.

"...I'm so scared, so scared of how much I rely on you, and I'm just so worried you'll be gone soon, and I just don't want to be alone again.” You didn't dare look up for the entire time of your rant, thought before you knew it, just before you an alpha fell to his knees.

Jungkook, his bright eyes shining with tears as he too softly cried, much like many of the others.

„Y/N, baby..” The gaze of pure heartbreak he gave you had you looking away, his hands holding your cheeks to make you look back at him again, tears welling up in both his and your eyes, hands trembling with emotion. The pack members exchanged pained glances, realising the depth of your fear of being alone.

"I know... I know you all care for me. And that's what scares me the most—the thought of losing this, losing all of you. I don't think I could live again."

The youngest too broke into sobs just as the elder had before, his arms taking you from the pair as he gently pulled you to his lap, his nose hidden in the very crook of your neck, his body tense with sorrow.

He could never forgive himself for not being there for you when you needed them the most.

The entire pack mourned with sorrows, and even after the others calmed down over time, the pack alpha, the quickest to recover from having to constantly blink his tears away, would envelop you both in his embrace, the softest shushes leaving his lips as he promised on his life that he would never leave you.

„...alpha would never lie to you, my sweetest love; you know that, right? I'll always be here, for all you need.”

And soon after, Namjoon pulled both of you back onto the couch, letting the youngest latch onto you, the omega he grew to desire and need over the time shared, as the packalpha rubbed the small of your back, a touch of comfort.

You didn't cry; just a few sniffles left you ever so often, yet you shook like a feather in the wind realising how open you were about yourself after such a long time.

Years it took you to be vulnerable with someone other than your throughts, and years it took for you to find someone in your life who didn't take advantage of you even then.

And so, as it dawned on you just how purehearted the pack was, you allowed yourself to truly relax and be truly assailable yet with no fear, a luxury you never realised was foreign.

When Jimin leaned over to softly ask you if you still wanted to watch the movie, you nodded, sending the man a reassuring smile. The alpha smiled back, gently wiping away any tears astray on your cheeks as he held out a blanket for you to cuddle under, a soft thank you leaving you, letting the older tuck you under. Jungkook was quick to shuffle under the warmth too.

Not long after did all the alphas rest into comforting places, though to be truthful, all in the end unconsciously formed around you, your soft body closely held in the very centre, like the most precious gem, just as Jin described earlier, laid in the deepest of the dragon's lair.

When the first Harry Potter movie started playing, the Japanese subtitles turned on, even if you didn't need them, for you was a thought that mattered; the alphas took you into consideration, and you appreciated it more than you'd allow yourself to think you'd do.

Hobi would lean over, whispering soft, teasing comments about how each character was a bit too silly to begin with, telling you about your house, a true Hufflepuff he claimed, and joking around softly with the new words created in the universe. And deep down you knew he was trying to cheer you up.

You grew to like the story of the movie, not even realising how much time has passed, tiredness coming over you when your eyes fluttered shut, the last memory of the night of Jungkook's arms gently wrapped around your waist, his chest warming up your back as he whispered into your ear with a soft timber:

„Sleep tight, bunny. I love you so much.” Sealing his promise with a soft kiss to the top of your head.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

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jinkookspencil · 1 year

Text

depictions of love & lust | knj

an art gallery date with namjoon wasn't uncommon.... but the erotic art certainly was.

Description/TW: ~1.6k words / Namjoon x Reader (F) / fluff / drabble / suggestive but no smut / established relationship / one-shot drabble / any feedback welcome! / happy rm3 title & release announcement!! indigo!! <3

Another day of your trip, another art gallery with a side of exploration. This was how most free days with Namjoon were spent, whether you were at home or traveling abroad - if there was art to be seen or nature to be appreciated, Namjoon would find a way to do so. You were never an art person, and could only recall the very famous artists and paintings before dating Namjoon - Van Gogh, Da Vinci, and Monet…. Then, going on a trip to an art gallery or a museum would be a day that stood out - a once-in-a-year thing at most. Now, it filled up your days…. But you never complained.

Art fueled Namjoon, you could see it in his eyes when he studied it, visited galleries, and talked to you about it. It didn’t fuel him in his career, but more so as a person. It was an expansive, limitless world for such a complex, creative mind like his to explore and escape into. You can’t say you feel the exact same way, seeking escape in the natural world around you, even more than Namjoon did, but you could understand his love and need for it, and that was enough.

Your love and appreciation for art only grew a tiny bit - it’s hard for Namjoon not to rub off on you - but that wasn’t the reason you gladly accompanied him on every trip….. You heart melts and races when he talk about art so passionately, just seeing him in his element, and you long for the nights at home he talks about you as in the same way, whether it’s through his personal poems, love letters, and sweet nothings between the two of you past midnight or the confessions that make it to his songs….

But you also kinda want to jump on him.

Intelligence was always considered an attractive quality, but you had never understood how until Namjoon. Even when you didn’t understand the entirety of his explanations or interpretations, well, especially then….. Namjoon was even more attractive than he normally was, which you never thought would be possible. How he could gather so much from a piece of art, all on his own, was awe-inspiring. No matter how hard you try, your brain will just never work the same way Namjoon’s does….. but his brain lit a fire in yours.

Sure, the rush wasn’t the same as it was at the very beginning of your relationship growing into more of a comfort as time flew by, and you visited more and more galleries, but you still can’t help but feel like you love Namjoon little more every day, and art days added a tiny extra to your daily dose of love.

So, an art trip with Namjoon was always a treat - what more could you want than spending hours seeing your partner happy and on fire, while he also wanted to share that happiness and passion with you?!

What did I do to deserve him?!, you think to yourself, as you always do on one of these days.

“Ah, let’s turn left,” he says as you step foot into the gallery, a step ahead of you and holding your hand in his. “Let’s start there.”

As always, he’s silent at the very beginning, taking it all in. You’re almost done with the entire floor, a section by the entrance to the hall remaining, but you knew you’d both immediately start over as soon as you had finished seeing it, the second time with Namjoon’s commentary and photo ops.

But by the time you get to the remaining section, the theme of the artwork around you seemed to have….. changed. If each section had a different theme, you hadn’t realized, only catching glimpses and waiting until Namjoon’s explanations, but you couldn’t look away nor look directly at the art you were suddenly surrounded by… Leaving Namjoon’s side to hurriedly check out the rest of the artwork, your suspicions were confirmed.

Most of the artwork in this section was either incredibly suggestive or straight-up erotic and sexual.

You find Namjoon standing in front of a painting, staring intently at the sensual scene it displays.

“Uhm, Namjoon…. You good?”

“Hmm?” he turns. “Oh yeah, I’m just fascinated by this painting. The artist did this during a very tough time in their life and chose to paint their desires. Look at it, baby. See this section here?”, he points to the middle of the painting. “This represents his desire for true love rather than the frivolity of sex on its own, sex without love. It’s beautiful.”

How the fuck did he take this so seriously?!

“Mhmm,” you say, breathing slowly as Namjoon continues, talking about more of the surrounding artwork.

“See this one?”, he stops by another, what seemed to be the only non-sexual piece in the gallery, with abstract blobs and messy lines. “It’s all about lust."

Lust? How did he get lust from random shapes?! And was his gaze suddenly more intense? Were his muscles that big yesterday? You could make out his arm under his coat, for heaven’s sake!

All you wanted was to recreate the scenes from the art surrounding you, but, now talking about the type of paint some artist used, Namjoon looked so lost in his own excitement, while you were lost in your imagination. You snap back to reality once you hear the words, “I could use your input with this."

“Hmm?” you coo.

“I want your interpretation on this.”

Namjoon had asked you the question in the past, and it always felt like you were being quizzed on something you had never studied and would surely fail. But apparently, sometimes you helped. There was that one time, Namjoon asked you how you felt about a painting and all you said was that it seemed sad - little did you know those simple words would make you stay at the gallery for another hour. Apparently, Namjoon had taken away an entirely different feeling and spent ages quietly trying to understand your perspective before asking you about it. So though there were definitely moments Namjoon obviously knew you got close to nothing from certain works, you also knew that he wouldn’t ask if he wasn’t serious.

“Me?” you make sure.

“Yes, you, baby. I want your input. What do you think of it?”

You stare up at the painting. It’s relatively tame next to the abundance of erotic art surrounding you, depicting a man biting and grabbing onto a woman’s neck, the painting cutting off just at the top of her bum, where his veiny arm rested, no, squeezed, as indicated by the artist’s added detail of the dents his hand made in her plump bum, covered in stretch marks. Neither figure’s face showed, but with the way his face dug into her neck, her head tilted backward with her arms up in the air, it was clear that they were both feeling pleasurable...

“I… think it’s sexy,” you admit, looking down. “Very sexy."

“I thought so,” he nods. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Y/N, but is this what they call the female gaze? Like…. doesn’t it say depict so much without showing too much? His… possessiveness? But also, his love? Her love too? See the way he grabs onto her? It’s gentle but rough. And her arms raised? They’re not in his hair or on his body, this is entirely about her pleasure. She’s giving herself to him but she’s still in control here, we can already tell that - she’s allowing him to be possessive of her. I think this might be me overthinking it but I think that’s depicted by the fact that there’s no nudity and we don’t even see her behind, it shows the artist having control of the scene. She’s brilliant. Also notice the way the bodies are in different colors but have specks of the other’s colors within them? That’s love, and how it should be. Again, it’s not lust. It’s two separate people coming together, but still making up tiny bits of the other. You know?”

And all you could say was that it was sexy.

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug.

You only realize how hot you’d become with the next breath you let out, which comes out in a deep exhale.

“So, is this it? The female gaze? Does it even exist?”, he asks seriously.

“Uh—", you begin, but your voice comes out shaky. A bead of sweat drops down your back.

Fuck it.

“I think it must be the female gaze because I kind of, need you right now, Namjoon.”

“What?!”, he jolts, but you grab his arm.

“I need you,” you whisper. “Now.”

“Just… so suddenly?!”, he asks.

“Suddenly?! Namjoon?! You know you can easily get me this way when you talk and explain art shit, and this, and you….”, you whimper.

“Baby, it’s art,” he laughs.

“It’s art all about sex. It’s making me feel things and YOU are making me feel things. I don’t know shit about the female gaze, I think you did more reading on it than I have but all I know is that…..,” your voice lowers. “I need you… I need to touch you, I need you to touch me, I…. I don’t think I can wait too long.”

He sighs. “I always want you to feel something at galleries and museums, hoped a piece of art impacted you the way it impacted me…. and this is what you feel,” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s a start, I guess. Sure, baby,” he whispers against your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist and squeezing your plush skin there.

“Mmm,” you let out. “Namjoon, don’t do that I’m already…”

“Fuck, okay,” he laughs, the passion in his eyes replaced by menace. “Let’s go.”

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mykoreanlove · 3 months

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sexy brain wasn’t having it

3.25 am.

Once again Namjoon lay awake at night, anticipating the next disaster. His thoughts were racing, fueling the anxiety that was rooted deep in his heart.

„Joon“, you mumbled sleepily as you twisted in his arms.

You calling him caught him by surprise, a welcomed yet unnecessary surprise.

„Why are you awake, love?“, he whispered in his deep raspy voice.

You chuckled as you patted his buff chest. „Well Sherlock, my precious darling is awake so I can’t sleep either.“

Namjoon smiled widely as he placed a sweet kiss on your forehead.

„Sorry.“

„Is something on your mind?“

He sighed, not really knowing how to articulate his thoughts.

„Do you remember when I told you about my ex? The one that cheated on me?“

You nodded silently.

„Do you also remember the girl that shot daggers at you when I took you out to dinner two days ago?“

„The one with the crazy eyes?“

A sad laugh escaped his lips. „Yeah. Actually, same person.“

„No way“, you gasped, suddenly fully awake. „Why didn’t you tell me?“

„Honestly? She did some crazy things back then so I just wanted to forget her. I don’t want you to be near her. Ever.“

You tightened your grip around your boyfriend, deeply touched by his concern for you.

„You really care about me, huh?“

„Slightly“, he bickered back, making the both of you laugh.

„Are you afraid that she’s gonna do something to us?“

Namjoon closed his eyes and sighed deeply. „I expect her to.“

You drew circles on his chest, hoping this would make him calm down and drift off to sleep. It seemed like it worked, until it didn’t.

Frantic sounds alerted you both, someone was ringing the bell like crazy.

„Namjoon. Namjoon!! Open up, please.“

Her whines were slurred and chaotic. You felt him tense under your touch, unsure what to do.

„Just ignore her, Joonie. I’m sure she’s gonna leave in a minute.“

„Joon!! God damn it, Joon!!! Open the fucking door!“

Namjoon debated if he should get up, but he also feared hurting you. Suddenly, the door flung open revealing a very bad tempered Jungkook.

„Hyung, please. Go talk to her. I can’t sleep and I can’t keep listening to her begging for you. I beg you talk to that lunatic.“

You squeezed Namjoon‘s hand, encouraging him to go.

„I love you“, he whispered in your ear.

„I know“, you stuck out your tongue.

„Namjoon, fucking rap monster open this door no-„

Namjoon‘s ex swallowed her tongue as she actually succeeded with her plan - her ex was standing before her, ready to listen to her tantrum.

„Joon“, she tried hugging him but he pushed her away.

„You know what time it is?“

She nodded her head, slightly ashamed. „Joon, I am sorry but I need to talk to you. Breaking up was the worst idea we ever had.“

He rolled his eyes at her, trying to stay calm.

„Cheating on me was even dumber if you ask me.“

„I never“, she tried to defend herself but bit her tongue as she saw the hurt in his eyes.

„I’m sorry. What I did was wrong. It’s just, I couldn’t handle our love back then. You’re such a grown up and I.. I am a mess.“

Flashbacks of all the tantrums she created flashed his mind. She always argued with him, accusing him of the most disrespectful shit. Looking back he could simply laugh about this, wondering how the hell he kept up with her frantics for so long. He didn’t care about the past, nor her anymore. He only cared about you.

„I call you a cab“, he stated sternly.

„NO!“

Namjoon sighed in annoyance.

„What do you want from me? Why are you here? Do you honestly think I’d take you back? After all you put me through?“

„Why not? Because of that bitch?“, she spat out.

His nostrils flared up instantly. Namjoon would never resolve a conflict with violence, especially not with a female. He’d rather contort to hurting one emotionally.

„I don’t want you to talk about my girlfriend like that. Ever again. Understood?“

„That should be me! I’m supposed to be your girl, Joon. Don’t you remember how great we were?“

„Nah“, he replied dryly.

His ex scoffed, too many blows to her ego. „Oh please, I’ve seen her. Since when do you date someone so basic? She’s half of me anyways.“

Namjoon took out his phone and ordered a cab, making an end to this nonsense.

„What are you doing? Joon, listen to me! She’s not the one for you, can’t you see?“

He raised his left brow, holding back what he truly felt.

„She’s average. Basic. Boring. I think you should dump her. I think you should get back together with me. I think you and I should become Korea‘s hottest couple and live a beautiful life together. I think I am the love of your life!“

A real, heartfelt laugh left his lips. His ex‘ eyes widened in expectation, anticipating her victory over you.

Namjoon however disagreed.

„Thank you for telling me what you think. I however, don’t think about you. At all.“

He turned around and went inside, hoping to never end up in a situation like that ever again.

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btsqualityy · 7 months

Text

BTS Dating Series #16: Nicknames

Members x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff

Summary: Nicknames are an endearing sign of growing affection.

Warnings:n Some suggestive making out in Yoongi's part and just general suggestiveness in Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook's parts.

Kim Seokjin

The two of you were at Jin's apartment, moving around each other in the kitchen as you worked on preparing dinner.

"Hey Jinnie?" You called out to him. "How much gochujang am I supposed to put in here?"

"Hmm," Jin muttered as he stepped over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and hooking his chin over your shoulder. "I'm not entirely sure, jagi. This is Yoongi-yah's recipe and I doubt he'll answer the phone if I call because he's had his head stuck so far up his girlfriend's ass these days."

"First off, don't make fun of him," you huffed. "He really likes her and you need to be a supportive hung."

"Of course," Jin nodded dutifully.

"And secondly," you murmured as you turned around in his arms to face him. "Jagi? Why'd you call me that?"

"Well, it just felt natural," he shrugged. "Besides, you are my sweetheart. Do you not like it?"

"No," you smiled as you felt your cheeks warm up a little. "It's fine." You turned around without another word then and Jin smiled knowingly to himself, tightening his arms around you before pressing a kiss to your head.

Min Yoongi

"Fuck, I missed you so much," you murmured against Yoongi's lips as the two of you made out messily. After not being able to spend much time together over the last week, the two of you were eager to make up for lost time.

"I missed you more baby," Young replied huskily. "My pretty girl."

"Don't make me feel all lovey-dovey," you giggled. "It takes the lust away from this."

"Why not have both?" He suggested with a smirk, kissing you again before you even got a chance to respond. It didn't take long for your hands to start wondering and Yoongi's resolve broke when you reached down into his boxers.

"Fuck, come here Min," he huffed, quickly clutching your waist and changing your positions so that you were on your back on his bed, underneath him.

"Wait, what did you just call me?" You questioned breathlessly. "Min?"

"Shit, I didn't mean to say that aloud," Yoongi sighed.

"So you didn't mean it?"

"No, I did but I don't wanna freak you out."

"Why'd you call me that?" You pressed.

"It just...you feel like family to me already," he admitted with a sheepish shrug. "Like, like you're mines."

"Oh baby," you whispered, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. "I am."

"Yeah?" Yoongi whispered as he lowered himself so that his face was near yours. "Say it again."

"I'm yours," you mumbled before kissing him firmly.

Kim Namjoon

"Oh my gosh," you giggled loudly from your place sitting across from Namjoon, instantly covering up your mouth so that you didn't disturb the other people who were dining around you. "You're too much. Why would you tell me about Jin eating that hot Chile in front of all these people?"

"Because I knew it'd make you laugh and I love seeing your smile," Namjoon admitted, making your cheeks warm up. "I feel like I haven't seen much of your smile these days."

"We've both been working," you shrugged, reaching out and picking up your wine glass. "I've missed you but I kind of like that we each have our own things going on, you know?"

"Trust me, I get it," he nodded in agreement. "And I missed you too." Just as you went to respond, you heard a buzzing noise and you realized that it was Namjoon's phone once he reached into his pocket. After looking at the screen, Namjoon looked back up at you with a sorry expression.

"If it's work, go ahead and answer it if you have to," you gave him permission. "I don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Positive," you smiled as you took a sip of your red wine. Namjoon answered the phone then, speaking in hushed tones since the two of you were in the middle of a restaurant.

"I'll look over the song as soon as I'm able to, Hob-ah but I can't now because I'm out with my girl," Namjoon murmured. "I'll call you later, ok? Ok." He hung up the phone then, smiling at you. "You ok?"

"More than ok," you nodded, your mind repeating the words 'My Girl' over and over again.

Jung Hoseok

"Hey baby, where are you?" You called out as you walked into Hobi's apartment, fresh from your workout and ready to see your boyfriend.

"In here!" He shouted from the living room and you walked that way, laughing when you saw Hobi's body strewn over the couch.

"And just how long have you been in this position?" You wondered as you walked over to him, sitting down next to his feet.

"About 10 hours and it's been amazing," he sighed dreamily. "How was work? And your workout?"

"Both good, productive," you shrugged.

"Enough to put you in a good mood?"

"I guess so," you shrugged.

"So much so that you called me baby," Hobi smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Is that weird?"

"Yes, coming from you," Hobi nodded. "Anything that you wanna talk to me about?"

"No," you shook your head. "I just, you always call me cute nicknames so I wanted to do the same for you."

"Well, I appreciate the gesture baby but I don't need a nickname to know how much you love me," Hobi reassured you.

"Alright, regular old Hobi it is then," you joked, making Hobi roll his eyes as you leaned over to press a kiss to his lips.

Park Jimin

"Jimin-ssi!" You shouted over the loud music that Jimin had blaring throughout your apartment, which was quickly becoming his as well these days. "What do you want for lunch?"

"What?!" He shouted back.

"Turn the music down and maybe you'll be able to hear!" You giggled and Jimin followed your suggestion, turning the Bangtan song down before walking into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Sorry baby," he murmured. "Repeat yourself for me?"

"I said, Jimin-ssi, what do you want for lunch?"

"Anything you make is fine, I'm not picky as long as you're cooking it," he shrugged. "Let me ask you a question though."

"What's up?"

"Why do you still call me Jimin-ssi?" He wondered. "I mean, we're long past strangers now, right?"

"Right but it just became a habit and honestly, I kind of like it," you smiled, glancing at him over your shoulder. "It's like our own little thing, you know?"

"I do know," Jimin nodded. "I like having us having a little thing."

"Oh, no you don't," you shook your head when Jimin began leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck. "I'm hungry!"

"So am I," he shrugged, making you laugh out loud as he continued to kiss you.

Kim Taehyung

"Mmm," Taehyung moaned deeply as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured back against his lips, receiving two quick presses of his lips to yours before he pulled away and moved his body so that he was now laying next to you instead of on top of you the way he had been. Needless to say, the two of you had enjoyed a slow morning and Taehyung had decided to give you an amazing wake up call.

"My gorgeous girl," he whispered as he intertwined one of your hands with his, leaning over and continuing to press open mouthed kisses over any piece of your skin that he could reach. "My love, my joy."

"Your joy?" You echoed, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Yeah," he nodded. "You make me so happy, happier than I ever thought I could be with another person. Even if we're upset with each other, it still makes me happy to see you or talk to you. That's why it feels right to call you that."

"Tae," you huffed, closing your eyes once you felt the tears welling up in them.

"Aww baby," Taehyung chuckled fondly, opening his arms and allowing you to burrow into his side before he pressed a soft kiss to your head.

Jeon Jungkook

You rushed over to your front door once you heard the knocking, a wide smile on your face as you unlocked it and yanked it open.

"Hi baby," Jungkook grinned.

"Kook!" You squealed, rushing forward and literally jumping onto him. He caught you with a huff, laughing afterwards as you hugged him tightly. "I missed you so much!"

"I've only been gone for a week," he pointed out and you looked down at him.

"If you didn't miss me, just say that," you rolled your eyes.

"Of course I did," he smirked, making you suck your teeth before you kissed him passionately. Once the two of you had properly greeted each other, he set you down and you pulled him into your apartment before you shut the door behind him. "Hey, did you call me Kook when you opened the door?"

"Uh, yeah?" You shrugged with a laugh. "Is that not a nickname of yours?"

"It is, you've just never used it before," Jungkook replied. "I like how it sounds coming from you."

"Yeah? Well, if you want, I'll say it over and over again," you purred. "That is, if you can make me."

"That week I was gone must've dulled your memory when it comes to what I can do to you," he smirked. "Go get on the bed."

"Yes Sir," you winked, yelping when Jungkook reached down and smacked your ass.

................................................................

Tag List: @addictedtohobi @brittneymccray @cursedcursives @arata18nanami @leftieaquarius @devilsbooksworld @starmyy @werewolfbanshee-love @li-moonchild-il @kpop-servant @cheysjimin

558 notes · View notes

chicken-fifi · 3 months

Text

BTS Reaction | Silly Things They Do When Crushing on You

Pairing: BTS Members x Reader

Requested by anon: Can you please write dumb/random things BTS members will do while they are crushing on reader?

A/n: happy valentine's day everybody!

Tunes: dance moms ;)

Jin:

I feel like all the confidence Seokjin exudes vanishes when he’s around you

He’s jittery and stuttering

A blushing mess when he’s around

And he gets lost in thought for long periods of time when you talk to him

Don’t be surprised if he trips and nearly fall in front of you

Or screws up his words to say some funky things

As embarrassed as he may get

Seeing you laugh is worth it

Even if it’s at his expense

Suga:

Our normally stoic and cool Yoongi

Well he’s very expressive let’s be real

And around you even more so

He’s attentive even when you don’t need him to be

And he gets flustered so easily when around you

One time he was being nice getting you a glass of water and accidentally spilled it all over you

He was embarrassed but there was also this goofy smile as he tried to get himself back in shape

Those goofy smiles a regular appearance though

J-Hope:

Hoseok is normally a gentleman around you

A nervous ass, jittery gentleman

He holds doors open for you, and then proceeds to crack his face against the door frame as he walks in after you

Or accidentally walks into a post or a glass door because he’s paying attention to you

Puppy eyes whenever he’s looking at you

No one else exists in the room if you’re there

And it becomes a joke among the guys

Imitating the way he looks at you that is

RM:

I remember seeing a tiktok of Namjoon’s apartment with books all over the place

And since then I can’t get it out of my mind

He’ll be reading something and the moment you enter the room the book is nonexistent

He’ll be on the same page for a very long time

And when you point it out

He get flustered and ends up brushing it off as he didn’t really like the book

Breaks his heart to say that but it makes you laugh

He eats crow when he sees you reading the same book a few weeks later and you’re raving about it

Jimin:

All smiles and nearly closed eyes

Jimin might as well be a combination of the 😁, 😍, and 🥰 emojis

He looks at you with heart eyes all the time

And he says the weirdest things sometimes

He’ll use words that are just cuter

AND HIS TONE

It pitches up ever so slightly

AND YOU NOTICE IT TOO

And all he does is giggle and laugh when you point it out

As expressive as Taehyung can be

He goes blank most times around you

He’s so 0_0 sometimes when you are in the room

It like you enter and all thoughts leave his mind

His eyes follow your every move

At first it may be creepy

But then he beats you to getting things for you and his close attention to detail shows

And he accidentally spills something on you trying to be nice and O_O

Intense eye contact as he just stares trying to process what just happened

Jungkook:

Jeongguk is so shy around you

He watches you like a hawk and will leave things out for you all the time

But he runs and hides when he sees you

I do imagine that he’d be a bit more vocal and talkative when texting or doing some online chatting

Bam also loves the shit outta you

Like owner like doggo

Except Bam rush towards you while he rushes away from you

Don’t be surprised if he tried to get the up with the dog

#kpop #kpop masterlist #kpop reactions #bts #bts masterlist #bts reactions #jin #suga #j-hope #rm #jimin #v #jungkook

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raplinesmoon · 2 years

Text

Doom Boy (KNJ x F!Reader)

pairing: Namjoon x reader (also featuring hyung line) genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, mafia au, 18+ summary: Namjoon was a doom boy - he’d spent his entire life running from the ghosts of his past, keeping you and your son safe from the monsters that lurked on the city streets. He should have known that one day they’d catch up to him.

warnings: the mafia, attempted attack, drinking, mentions injury, mentions of past ab*se, brief mention of illicit subtances and money laundering, minor character deaths, choking, a great escape, Namjoon being an art hoe, smut warnings: sexting, dirty talk, brief daddy kink moment, explicit sexual content, soft dom!Namjoon, oral (f receiving), riding (it’s Namjoon duh), wrap it before you tap it pls

word count: 14.2k

a/n: happy Joon day (i hope i make the deadline) oh gosh, I don’t even know what this is like this was just supposed be some angsty yearning but it turned into this whole story bc Namjoon is the loml. i highkey think this is a huge mess and like cried outlining it bc i was feeling so many emotions, but it’s the first piece of writing in a month that i haven’t trashed completely (rip Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jungkook fics that shall never see the light of day). i really, really hope you like it! pls also excuse any grammar errors, i’ll go back and fix them soon!

Thank you to Ryen @kithtaehyung for the gorgeous banner!!

listen to the playlist!

By all accounts, it was a typical Friday. The sun blazed down on the pavement, rivulets of sweat making their way down Namjoon’s back on his commute home from the office. Shuddering, he loosens his tie, eager to let the shackles of his mundane office job fall away from his being. Combing a hand through the strands of his hair, he thinks that maybe he should get a haircut next week, but ultimately decides against it when he imagines your face in his mind, lips pursed in a pout and eyes shimmering with the glimmer of unshed tears.

I love your hair like this, he can hear you whisper breathlessly, his mind flitting back to the memory of your fingers tugging at the strands nearly a month ago, daring him to pull you into another kiss after what had already been an endless night tangled up in the sheets, making the most of the precious time Hyun had at his jobumo’s house. He’d never been able to deny you a single thing, not since the moment your hand had shyly slipped into his on the walk back from your college library, the comfortable silence between you two soon blossoming into a life he’d never dared to dream of for himself.

His steps become quicker as he grows more restless, pushing through the endless hordes of city-goers around him, the tall skyscrapers casting a grim shadow above the streets below. He’s suffocated by the heat as soon as he makes his way into the subway, descending multiple flights of stairs until he sees freedom within his reach, signified by the screeching of wheels against the railway track.

Stepping into the air-conditioned compartment, Namjoon lets himself breathe, shrugging the strap of his satchel back against his shoulders, his eyes surveying the crowded train compartment. The train comes to a halt at the next station, the doors hissing to let the next group of commuters in, and he pales when he sees the ghost of a reflection in the glass — someone he hadn’t seen for years.

For a moment, he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him, the tall broad, shoulders and dark ebony hair of a man his height disappearing as soon as the train starts again, but Namjoon remains deeply unsettled, the acrid memories of his past coming back to haunt him the most in moments like this. Moments where he didn’t have you, or Hyun, to remind him that with everything he’d left behind, he’d gained something exponentially more wonderful and precious.

His phone pings, snapping him out of his daze, and he looks down at it, a notification from you lighting up his screen. A smile makes its way onto his face, the tension seeping from his veins when he swipes on it.

Only to go slack-jawed a moment later. Namjoon looks around, making sure no one can see the bright light of his screen, before bringing the phone up closer, his mouth gaping at the picture you’d chosen to send him.

You hadn’t changed yet, the silky dress you’d picked out and shown him last night lying in a heap next to you on the bed, your body clad in the most provocative mix of lace and cut-outs, beyond anything his wicked mind could have conjured up.

Come home, you said. I can’t wait much longer.

Namjoon looks up as the train comes to another pause, a faint smirk making its way onto his face when he notes that it’s now time for him to get off.

Date night could finally begin.

Under the dim lights of L’Etalage, you babble on excitedly about the latest gossip from the work week - two of your coworkers were potentially flirting with one another; another one would finally take their sour attitude with them and quit, your supervisor just learned he was having a baby. Your heart grows ten sizes when you think about how you’d gone through those same life changing moments years ago, falling in love with Namjoon, the intelligent, outgoing man who’d sat behind you in one of your science classes, and how now, you were happier than you’d ever been. Life was perfect with him by your side.

You talk, and Namjoon just listens, enraptured by the sound of your voice, his lips twitching into a small smile when he sees your eyes twinkle like stars under the candleglow.

“Namjoon?” You interrupt his thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, baby?” He smirks back, and you falter, flushing when you remember the text you’d sent him earlier.

There hadn’t been enough time to do anything about it, of course. Namjoon had barely pinned you to the wall, his hot breath fanning over your neck, before the phone rang, an excited Hyun up from his nap, babbling on FaceTime to his appa about all the fun toys his halmeoni had given him. You’d sheepishly excused yourself to go change into your outfit, leaving a frustrated Namjoon behind.

“This meal cost $200, Namjoon,” you raise an eyebrow. “We’re not about to leave right before I get my matchamisu.”

You jut out your bottom lip in a pout, and Namjoon laughs. The only thing you liked more than sex was sugar, and he couldn’t blame you. The matchamisu was delicious. Still, he couldn’t resist toying with you after the tease you’d given him earlier.

“Who says we have to leave?” He folds his arms, watching you bite your lip at the way his muscles strain against his dress shirt. “The bathrooms here are pretty nice from what I remember.”

Your lips part in an “O”, eyes dilating to pools of black, only for the waitress to choose that exact opportune moment to swing by, placing the matchamisu and two spoons on the table in front of you.

“Please enjoy,” she flutters her eyelashes, speaking only to Namjoon, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Your husband was an attractive man, but he was also oblivious to the way other women flirted with him. He acknowledges her presence for a split second to give a polite nod, before his hand is reaching for yours across the table. His fingers fit perfectly into yours, the twin bands adorning your hands glinting brightly enough to send a message.

You shouldn’t feel smug when she walks away with a scowl, but part of you feels giddy.

Namjoon presses his lips to your knuckles, his dimples making an appearance as he grins while watching you dig in, moaning in delight when the sweet, creamy dessert hits your tongue.

“I thought you were only supposed to make those sounds for me,” he quips, yelping when you smack lightly him on the arm, lifting his hands up in surrender.

You return your attention to the plate in front of you, but Namjoon’s sharp, intent gaze has already done its damage, surveying you hungrily, a pool forming between your thighs. Watching as he excuses himself to the bathroom, you realize you both needed to get out of here.

And fast.

Washing his hands in the sink, Namjoon feels sparks erupt across his skin, anxious to get you home and have his way with you while the night was still young. You played off his salacious flirting, but he could see the way it affected you, your breath coming out in heavy pants, skin glistening with sweat.

He makes his way to open the door, only for it to swing open right before he can reach for the handle, his shoulder bumping into another one. Namjoon reaches for the shorter man before he can topple over, but freezes when he sees the face looking up at him, the blood in his veins turning to ice.

“Yoongi-hyung,” he manages to rasp after many moments of silence, unable to fathom the sight in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

Namjoon’s head begins to spin, and he feels like he’s floating, suspended in the air and watching the scene unfold before him, face-to-face with a man he thought he’d never see again, a man he chose to never see again, when he’d left the life he’d had before you behind.

“Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi’s arms reach out in an embrace, and Namjoon dodges it coldly, watching his hyung’s smile falter, cat-like eyes surveying his tense figure. “It’s been a long time.”

“I’m going to ask you this again,” Namjoon spits through clenched teeth. “Why are you here?”

His thoughts immediately flit to you, sitting out there alone, and he realizes you both need to leave now. Namjoon had been running from the ghosts of his past for as long as he’d known you, swearing to himself to protect you from the danger that lurked underneath the paved city streets. And now it had found him again.

“She’s waiting for you out there?” Yoongi asks, and Namjoon resists the urge to say something he knows he’ll regret later. So he knew who you were. He shouldn’t have expected any different, and he silently prays that Hyun’s been left out of their reconnaissance.

“Seokjin-hyung saw you today,” Yoongi continues, and Namjoon freezes again. So his mind hadn’t been playing tricks on him. He’d recognize Kim Seokjin’s broad shoulders and lithe body frame anywhere, remembering how it’d felt when they used to train together, tackling each other into hard concrete until one of them admitted defeat.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon abandons the honorific, and watches Yoongi’s face flicker in disappointment, before settling back into the stern, unfeeling mask he always seemed to have on. “You have to go.”

The older man opens his mouth to protest, but Namjoon pushes him aside, barely making it a few steps before he hears Yoongi call out to him.

“You can’t hide from who you are forever, Namjoon-ah,” he warns. “You and I both know that sooner or later, everything goes to shit.”

Resting your head on Namjoon’s shoulder, the two of you forgo a taxi home, walking hand in hand on the road, the pale moonlight casting everything in a soft glow. You lift your head gently to gaze at Namjoon, frowning at the way his nostrils flare and his brows seem etched in a permanent furrow. He’d been tense ever since he’d returned from the bathroom, and you wondered if he was upset with you for rebuffing him earlier.

“Joonie,” you whisper, turning his face to yours. The two of you come to a stop on a secluded street, and Namjoon’s face softens at the use of your favorite nickname for him. To everyone else, he was always Kim Namjoon, the prodigy from the south side of town, always crushed under the weight of expectations that weren’t his own. He’d hated the way his name sounded growing up, hollow and business-like to his ears, devoid of any affection or tenderness.

But to you, he was Joonie, the name you’d randomly come up with one late night studying, the two of you drunk on a caffeine high and laughing deliriously about anything and everything but the exam you had tomorrow. He’d fallen just a little bit in love with you that night, the way your smile shone brighter than the incandescent, artificial lighting of the library. It’d stripped him bare, piercing through the walls he’d built for decades, and Namjoon felt something with you he’d never felt before. He felt human.

“Talk to me please, what’s wrong?” Your eyes bore into his, searching for answers.

Answers that Namjoon could never give you if he wanted to keep his family safe. The lies felt like a stab to the heart every time he let one escape, but overtime, the wounds had begun to scar, leaving ugly marks in their wake. And it hurt a little less to keep the truth from you every time.

“We need a bigger house,” he says, stroking your temple with his thumb. It wasn’t wrong. “It’s about time we gave Hyun another sibling, don’t you think?”

The tension melts from your shoulders, and you flick him in the forehead.

“You idiot! I thought something was bothering you, like a life-and-death situation, and you’re just horny!”

“You caught me,” he wraps his arms around you, leaning to whisper in your ear. “Are you still wearing that little number you sent me earlier?”

“Who said I’m wearing anything underneath?” It comes out in a breathy moan, and you feel Namjoon go stiff beside you. “Now take me home.”

Namjoon doesn’t move, frozen in place, looking beyond you to a cluster of trees, his eyes becoming dark.

“___, hold onto me,” he chokes, his voice breaking, and you feel a chill run down your spine. “And whatever you do, don’t look anywhere but straight ahead.”

Namjoon’s hand comes to grab your wrist in a death grip, and you feel your hand go limp from the circulation being cut off. Your heartbeat speeds up instantly, blood pounding in your ears.

“Joonie? What’s going on?” A single tear escapes, running down your face, and Namjoon’s heart shatters down the middle. The fear in your eyes was something he’d told himself he never wanted to see, and he darkly wonders if running into Yoongi earlier had been an omen of what was to come.

You can’t see it, your eyes untrained, but Namjoon knows that the two of you are being watched. He can make out the faint figure of a human silhouette through the trees, and the gleam of something silver. And probably sharp.

He had to get you out of here.

“Listen to me, when I count to three, you have to run. Run as fast as you can, and don’t look back. Go to your parents’ house and find Hyun. You all need to leave the city now.”

“Namjoon, please,” you sob, and your wail echoes into the empty street. “What is happening?”

“____, that’s an order,” he says sternly, his face grim, and you cower in his presence. He’s shifted from your soft, loving husband into something far more menacing, his eyes narrowing in thinly veiled fury. “NOW GO!”

His voice snaps at you, and you break, turning from him and running as fast as your legs can go. Rounding the corner, you pause, peeking around just in time to see an unknown man in blank lunge at your husband, a silent scream lodged in your throat when you see the gleam of a knife in his hand.

You don’t stay long enough to see what unfolds, terror striking your heart and goosebumps erupting across your skin as the wind howls, the quiet streets eventually giving way to busy intersections, until you’re at a bus stop.

Heaving, you crumple over, sobs wracking your entire body as you wait for the bus to come, to take you away from the horrors of what had started out as the most normal night.

When it does come, you lean your head against the window, watching the city lights flicker outside, and a painful realization sets in one that leaves you completely numb.

Namjoon had never told you that he’d find you later, that everything would be okay. You should have stayed with him, should have protected him like he protected you and Hyun. But you’d let fear win, and now you’d lost him.

Namjoon shoves the man off of him, blood pouring from the stab wound he’d inflicted on his thigh. He wouldn’t be out for long. He’d been quick, but Namjoon was quicker. He’d been waiting for this moment for years, his instincts still as sharp as ever, honed from years of looking in the shadows, wondering if his demons would ever catch up to him.

But now you’d been caught in the crossfire - the way the blood escaped your face when he’d told you to run burned in the back of his brain. You were scared, and he knows for a fact it wasn’t just because of the unknown assailant. You were scared of him, finally witnessing the monster that Namjoon harbored deep inside.

Chest heaving, he catches his breath, tasting the bitter tang of salt before he even knows he’s crying, curses flying from his lips. He doesn’t know how long he sits there and sobs, shivering in the cold, but he hopes you’d listened to him, and that you and Hyun were far, far away from this hellhole. Neither of you deserved to rot with him.

He doesn’t hear the footsteps approach until someone is directly in front of him, their eyes taking in the sight of the unconscious man and the bloodstains all over Namjoon’s white shirt.

“Namjoon-ah? Shit, what happened? Where’s ___?”

Hoseok. The universe hated him, he was sure of it. Namjoon looks up, Hoseok’s worried face staring down at him, and relaxes when he doesn’t see a hint of anger. He wasn’t sure what to expect when they ran into each other again. Hoseok had been the one who took his leaving the worst; the loss of the only friend he’d had his age cutting deeply into him.

I fucking hate you, the last text had said.

“I was running patrol on the area when I heard one of Ahn’s men had been spotted in our neighbourhood. I came as fast as I could.”

“Is he dead?” Hoseok’s boot prods at the man, who looks barely conscious. Namjoon musters enough strength to shake his head, still unable to say anything, when he sees Hoseok’s gaze shift to the knife beside him.

“Let’s go,” he offers Namjoon a hand. “Whoever they were, they knew you’d be here tonight. It’s not safe.”

Namjoon falters for a moment, unable to accept Hoseok’s offer of help. If he did this, he knew Hoseok would take him back to the compound, back to everything he tried so hard to leave behind. And away from you. He feels like he’s in limbo, watching the road ahead split into two paths.

Hoseok says nothing when Namjoon rises and accepts his hand, giving a silent nod of acknowledgement before the two of them head off into the night.

“Mama,” Hyun sobs into your shoulder. “Where Appa go?”

His tiny fists ball into your shirt, and you do your best to bounce him up and down, keeping your own tears at bay. It’d been three days since you lost track of Namjoon, and in those three days, there hadn’t been a single text, call, or sign that he was okay. That he was still alive.

After picking up Hyun from your parents’ house, tearfully telling them the whole story, the two of you had returned home last night. In the back of your mind, you knew you were going against the last thing Namjoon had told you when he ordered you to leave the city, but you had to be here. He’d find his way back to you. He had to.

Every few hours were like this - Hyun would suddenly remember Namjoon and his tiny whimpers and sobs made you consider if it was finally time to stop waiting and call the police. Yet every time you dialed the number, something made you reconsider. The last look on Namjoon’s face remained burned into your memory, the shadows casting half his face in darkness when he asked you to run.

Your husband was a simple man. He left for work at 7:05am every day, and came back around 5:43pm. You knew he had excess money to spare, but you never asked him where it went, his only splurge being on an expensive bike he liked to ride on weekends. Date nights were mostly full of ramyeon and sushi on the couch at home, the fancy dinner a couple of nights ago a rare occurrence for you both. Which is why you were deeply unsettled by what had happened.

It was almost as though Namjoon knew trouble was waiting for you that night, as if he’d been anticipating things to blow up in his face, The way he’d been so prepared — his calm, collected demeanor through it all made you shudder. Like he’d had experience dealing with it before. And that was what gave you pause.

Namjoon never really spoke about his life growing up – he was an only child, and while he was sociable in college, he mostly kept to himself. That didn’t stop you from wanting to get to know more about him, his brown eyes glimmering with the depth of the man he hid from everyone else. Everything had been a whirlwind after, falling into bed just as easily as you’d fallen for him, eloping right after you’d both graduated, with Hyun coming soon after.

He’d never gone into detail about his family to you — only that his parents weren’t around, and you could see the pain in his eyes when he went slack-jawed and silent, eyes misty with unshed tears. That was when you’d decided that Namjoon didn’t need his family - he had the two of you right there, and that was enough.

But whatever happened that night changed everything. You shivered thinking about how you ran so easily when he told you to, how you didn’t want to stay to see who came out on top - Namjoon or the other man. You had a feeling the answer would twist your stomach into more knots than it already had.

Putting Hyun to nap on the couch, you decide to make a cup of tea to clear your head. And that’s when the doorbell rings.

Namjoon stares up at the ugly brown ceiling of his childhood bedroom. He’d begged his father to paint it to complement the green walls, yearning for a taste of the outdoors that he never got to see living in the compound, with its cold concrete floors and stark white walls. In retaliation, Namjoon’s father had smashed one of his plant pots, screaming about how Namjoon needed to get his head out of the ground and finally start taking responsibility of his duties as the leader’s son.

So Namjoon had done what any 16 year would do. He’d corralled a snickering Seokjin, a skeptical Yoongi, and a spirited Hoseok and taken his father’s car for a joyride to snag a few cans of spray paint.

The uneven paint job stares back at him, and he smiles at the memory of the four of them running out of the hardware store, whooping in delight. Not a hair looked out of place, the room the exact same way Namjoon had left it seven years ago. And yet everything was different.

Stretching, he looks at the pots on the windowsill, each plant a former paragon of pride for him. Evidence that he, Kim Namjoon, was nothing like the slimy crooks he’d grown up around. He respected life enough not to turn it into a living hell for others. Fingering the withered leaves now, he remarks at how big a fool he’d been to think so.

“I tried my best to water them,” Hoseok appears behind him, setting down a glass of water. “But you were always better at the outdoor shit than I was.”

He feels the bed creak next to him, and it’s silent between them for a few moments.

“Hobi,” Namjoon croaks, and he feels Hoseok stiffen at the use of his nickname. “I’m sorry.”

Hoseok’s lips purse into a straight line, giving no indication that he accepts Namjoon’s apology. But he had to say it anyway.

“I sent Yoongi-hyung and Seokjin-hyung to check on her,” he says softly, and Namjoon’s heart sinks with guilt because he hadn’t been thinking about you, or where you were right now. All he hoped was that you were safe.

“You fucking bastard,” Hoseok chuckles, a tear slipping out. “You got married and you didn’t even tell us. I was supposed to be your best man.”

He’s unsure how much Hoseok knows about you, or even Hyun, but the bitter regret in the other man’s voice tells him that he wasn’t the only one with wounds who’d been festering for longer than they should’ve.

Namjoon knows he owes an explanation to him, to all of them, but tonight, he’s tired. The moonlight filters in through the windows, casting an eerie glow over the room, and he can’t help but feel that everything’s about to change.

“____?” The man outside the door has eyes that gleam like a cat’s, piercing through the darkness as he surveys the home you share with Namjoon. Behind him, a taller man, his face covered by the shadows, looms, and a chill runs down your spine. Hyun was still sleeping peacefully on the couch.

“It’s about Namjoon.” The other man’s voice is gruff, his impatient sigh echoing into the night, and you watch his eyes widen as the door swings open.

“Who are you?” you ask through gritted teeth. “How do you know my husband?”

They step inside, their dark suits casting a shadowy gloom over what was once your bright and cheery home. Hyun naps away, and you become ever more aware of every tiny breath he takes when you see their eyes flicker to him, a surprised look on both of their faces.

“He’s yours?” The taller man asks, and you hate the way he looks at your son, a stone mask over his perfect features.

“Let’s talk in the kitchen, please,” you beckon them over, not liking the way they continue to study him.

Stepping into the space, it feels more cramped than you’re used to, Namjoon usually preferring to keep out of it lest he set the house on fire with his lack of cooking prowess. Thinking about him had you experiencing a pang of guilt.

“My name is Yoongi,” the cat-eyed man mumbles, and then gestures to his partner. “This is Seokjin.”

The other man, Seokjin, looks at you curiously, and you don’t like the way his eyes bore into you, as if he’s trying to convince you to unveil your darkest secrets with one glance.

“We were Namjoon’s friends,” Yoongi says calmly, which seems to set Seokjin off.

“We’re his fucking family, Yoongs,” he spits out.

You feel dizzy – Namjoon had never mentioned these strange men to you. As far as you knew, he didn’t have any siblings or cousins he was close to. Who were they, and what did they want with him?

“Is he safe?” You have a million other questions, but this feels like the most important one.

Yoongi gives you a nod, and you feel the tension seep from your body, only for your heart to stop at his next words.

“But he’s not coming back. Look, it’s not our place to tell you about Namjoon, and it pains me because you deserve answers that you’ll never get. But you have to listen to him and leave. It’s not safe for you or your family here anymore.”

Head spinning, you resist the urge to crash into the side of the dining table as you stumble, catching yourself quickly enough to take a seat.

“What do you mean? Where’s Namjoon? Why can’t I talk to him?”

“Listen,” Seokjin hisses, cornering you. “If you know what’s good for you and the kid, you’ll listen to us. We may fuck with a lot of nasty things, things that would make your toes curl, but there’s enough psychos out there on the streets who won’t hesitate to fuck over a woman and her child. We’re trying to give you an out.”

Yoongi looks you over, and you see his eyes flash with sadness at the tears that fill your own.

“Namjoon isn’t who you thought he was. I know it’s hard, but you need to listen to us. You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you. You can still have a happy life, meet someone new, fall in love again.”

You feel delirious.

“You’re lying. Namjoon is my husband. No one knows him better than I do. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He literally rides bikes with Hyun and they pick flowers together, for god’s sake!”

You don’t know why you feel the need to defend the accusations against him. The fact that they were telling you this at all meant that your husband had caught you in his web of lies, that all the years you’d spent by each other’s side were a farce.

“Yoongi, let’s go,” Seokjin says darkly. “We’ve done what we needed to do.”

Turning to you, he spares Hyun one last glance before crossing the threshold.

“I hope we never have to see each other again ___. For your sake.”

“You have a son,” Seokjin says monotonously as Namjoon pads sleepily to the breakfast table, freezing in his tracks when he hears him mention Hyun.

He’d been too tired to think about anything last night, knocking out as soon as he hit the pillow, seeking reprieve from the mess of thoughts in his mind that wondered how he was going to get out of this. And back to you.

Sipping his coffee, Seokjin starts at him sharply, Yoongi looking past him at the paint chipping on the wall, and Hoseok’s mouth parted in surprise.

“For fuck’s sake, Namjoon, what else are you hiding from us? I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Hoseok’s voice rises, ignoring Yoongi’s warning to keep it down.

“Kim doesn’t know he’s here,” Yoongi seethes, and Namjoon pauses. They hadn’t told his father?

Looking at Yoongi, he knows he can always count on him to be the voice of reason, to work through the hundreds of questions Namjoon has.

“Are they safe?” The most important thing.

Yoongi nods his affirmation. “For now.”

Looking at the three men, men who he’s known for most of his life, Namjoon finally lets himself feel the anger that’s been building inside of him. Everything had been fine, he’d been happy. Why’d they have to fuck it all up?

“Then do you mind telling me what the fuck I’m doing here?”

“Should’ve left his ungrateful ass on the streets, Hobi,” Seokjin quips. “Ahn’s man would’ve taken care of him when he came to.”

At the mention of Ahn again, Namjoon looks at Yoongi curiously. “I thought we had a deal with the Ahns. Why were they roaming around our territory, looking for trouble?”

Yoongi pushes the chair towards him, beckoning him to join them at the table. Namjoon takes the seat uncertainly, pleading with them to finally answer his queries.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

. . .

Your father is dying. Seokjin’s words have been echoing ceaslessly in the back of Namjoon’s mind, ever since he uttered them an hour ago. We need you.

The news brings Namjoon more relief than he’d cared to admit. Kim Yonghyun had never been much of a father to him anyway. His own mother had known better than he did, vanishing when Namjoon was twelve, never to be heard from again. She was still out there somewhere, hopefully where Yonghyun couldn’t find her.

Looking out the window, he looks out onto the courtyard of the compound, the bars on his window reminding him that this was the same prison he’d run away from years ago. Even if his room was still pristine and untouched, like it was waiting for him to come back. Even if Hoseok had still brewed him a cup of his favorite espresso after Namjoon had coldly refused to talk further about Hyun.

His own son was named after the monster who created him, and Namjoon wonders if he’d ever truly been able to let his past go. Or if it’d always remained, a black stain hiding under the disguise he’d created for himself, the false life he’d built. The one that was now about to come crumbling down.

He’s driven our organization to shit, Hoseok had said. Starting careless disputes with the other families, engaging in pointless violence. We need a better leader, a stronger one.

They needed him to finally step up to onto the pedestal they’d created for him, to accept his legacy with open arms. If you’d asked him seven years ago, Namjoon would have vehemently refused, convinced that there was a better life for him out there, one where he could live freely and be a normal kid who went to college, who fell in love, who got married and bought a house. Now, he wasn’t sure if those had been dreams or delusions.

He needed to talk to you.

It’s not even a day later when you hear the distinctive clink of Namjoon’s keys at the door, Hyun babbling at the table.

The soft thud of his shoes at the entryway feels like the loudest sound you’ve ever heard, heavier than the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

“APPA!” Hyun screeches with joy, his chubby arms reaching out for Namjoon’s longer ones.

“Hyunnie,” Namjoon’s eyes crinkle in adoration, lifting him up out of the high chair swinging him around. Hyun’s delighted giggles echo, Namjoon’s soft chuckles accompanying them, and for a moment, it feels like everything is back to normal. But it isn’t.

You don’t lift your eyes to look up at Namjoon, and he notices. Pressing a kiss to Hyun’s hair, he sets him down.

“Hyunnie, go play with your toys. Appa needs to talk to Mama for a few minutes.”

“Hyunnie miss you Appa. Pleez don’t leave again.” And with that he waddles off, leaving the air heavy in between you both.

Namjoon takes a seat next to you at the table, watching the way your throat bobs like you’re trying not to cry, and he feels tears of his own spring forth.

“___,” he reaches for your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb, and that’s when you explode into quiet sobs, praying that Hyun can’t hear you from the other room.

Namjoon’s arms wrap around you in an instant, stroking your back until the sobs subside, urging you to take deep breaths, and finally you’re ready.

You reach behind you to grab for something, and Namjoon pales when you push a folder with a stack of papers his way, his worst nightmare coming true.

“No,” Namjoon protests, refusing to open the folder. “Absolutely not. Why are you doing this?”

“You lied to me Namjoon,” you declare firmly, doing your best to overcome the wobble in your voice. “Or is that even your real name?”

All the blood rushes out from Namjoon’s face at your accusation, wondering what you found out, what you knew now, and he aches with the regret that he never got to tell you himself.

He’d been thinking about this moment for years, about what he’d do if this ever happened, and despite the thousands of theorized and calculated ways he’d settled on going about his explanation, he chokes back a sob. A needy, desperate feeling overcomes him, one that tells him that this isn’t it, that this can’t be the end.

“What are you saying ___? Are you calling me a liar? Look at me.”

He lifts your face up to his, searching your eyes for a spark of emotion, anything that would convince him you didn’t mean what you said, but all he finds are hollow pools of emptiness.

“I’m still Namjoon. I’m your husband, I’m Hyun’s father. This, this is all real. What we have is real. I’m begging you, please, please don’t throw it away like this.”

You take a moment to respond, knowing that what you have to say will be the end of this, will probably drive a stake through the spectacle that had been your marriage, and you feel less guilty when you remember that he did this first. That while all you’d ever been was honest, loving him with everything you had, he’d kept secrets from you. He’d put you and Hyun in danger.

“Is it drugs, then?” Namjoon recoils, feeling his stomach drop. “Or do you fuck with people’s money instead, putting them in helpless situations just for a couple hundred dollars you need to survive? I always used to wonder, why it felt like even though I was your wife, I never knew you properly. Never knew anything about your past. I thought it was because you had some kind of unresolved trauma. But that’s bullshit. You’ve been the one traumatizing people for years. You and the rest of your friends.”

You knew who he was, the legacy he came from. He doesn’t even need to ask how you found out. You’d always been the smartest woman he’d every known, putting together the most complex mathematical formulas. All you needed was a hint. Yoongi and Seokjin had fed it right to you.

“This isn’t fair,” he chokes out. “You don’t know anything about the other side of things, ___. You can’t even imagine what I’ve had to go through, why I’ve had to do what I do. I did it for you!”

“Stop saying that!” you cry out. “Stop it, please. If you really wanted to protect me, if you really wanted to protect Hyun, you would have left. You wouldn’t have brought this darkness into our home. Do you know what could happen to him, Namjoon? He’s only three years old!”

At your outburst, Hyun comes running into the kitchen, his face falling when he sees his Mama’s eyes red with tears.

“Mama,” he reaches out for you, and you pull him onto your lap, holding him in a death grip, because you’re afraid of what will happen to him if you let go.

“Mama, no crying peez, Appa came back,” he wipes a tear from your face, and Namjoon’s heart breaks into two. Hyun didn’t know that it was his fault. You gently stroke his dark hair, whispering in his ear to go up to his room and change, and that you’ll come by for a bedtime story soon. You say nothing when Hyun asks for Namjoon to come up too, and Namjoon knows tonight will be his last night ever spent in his home.

When Hyun leaves, he reaches back out for you, but you slap his arm away.

“___, please, there’s no need to overreact. I can explain everything, just please, please don’t push me away. I need you.”

The last sentence comes out in the form of a sob, and Namjoon wishes more than anything that you’d hold him right now, that you’d stay by his side while things fell apart around him.

“Do you know what the worst part of this is, Namjoon? I’ve been staring at my phone for days, trying to summon up the courage to say something, to call the police, to ruin you. But I can’t. Because there’ll always be some sick, twisted part of me that loves you. But I don’t want you to lie anymore. I want you to leave.”

Namjoon’s shoulders slump in defeat, and his voice shakes.

“Is there nothing I can say to convince you to fix this?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Namjoon accepts. “I’ll go.”

You don’t say a word to him as he pads out of the kitchen, slipping his coat over his shoulders and tying his shoes. He wonders if he should stop in and say goodbye to Hyun, but decides against him. His son would hate him eventually for what he did, and if Namjoon had learned anything from running away from home, a clean break was best. He hopes that the two of you can live peacefully now, no longer burdened by the demons he’s had to shoulder.

As he slips out the door, he hears your voice, so quiet that he’s almost not convinced it’s real.

“Thank you.”

Hoseok is awake when Namjoon returns, red-eyed and aching, drunk off one too many glasses of whiskey. He says nothing at first when Namjoon collapses onto the seat across of him, but eventually he can’t hold back.

“The old man wants to talk to you in the morning.”

It feels like another punch to Namjoon’s gut, having to face his father after losing you. He feels like a laughingstock, hearing his father’s mocking words in the back of his mind, calling him weak, sentimental, a fool.

For the first time in his life, Namjoon agrees with him. When he was a boy, he’d dreamt of a life away from the city’s underbelly, one that wasn’t governed by the shackles of duty and tradition. His mother leaving had only fueled his desire to seek an out. Because Namjoon didn’t want to commit himself to a life of lies, violence, and deceit.

He knew that Yoongi, Hoseok, and Seokjin operated outside of the frame and that the work they did was illegal. To them, the Kims had always been about being the shining paragon of the city’s scum. Their deals with the cops to keep trouble off the streets had worked for decades, but now it seemed like just like Namjoon’s own life, his father’s empire was collapsing. He knew Yonghyun was growing senile with his old age, and Namjoon shivers when he thinks of how bad things had gotten for them to come looking for him again.

As he ponders, Hoseok studies him curiously, remarking that the Namjoon that sat before him now looked nothing like his clumsy childhood friend who’d always raved about poetry and or school. Namjoon had always been the best of them, a bright star amongst a sea of dark mercenaries. But now, he looked completely worn, ready to submit to a fate he’d never wanted.

“Do you really hate us that much, Namjoon-ah?” Hoseok asks quietly, and Namjoon gulps, unable to answer him. His head was pounding.

Hoseok knew Namjoon had snuck out to see you, and for the first time, he realizes how little he actually knows the man who he used to call his best friend. He assumed at first that is was some kind of magic pussy that kept Namjoon in a chokehold for so long, but seeing him now, he can’t help but think it’s something deeper.

Hoseok had never really known love growing up. He couldn’t even say he loved the fiancée his parents had chosen for him. But he had an inkling that love was what destroyed Namjoon’s life, what turned him into the shell of a man sitting before him.

He’d do anything to get his old friend back.

“Hyunnie, please let go of Mama, please,” you beg your screaming son, snot and spit soaking the side of your blazer as he balls his tiny fists into the fabric, refusing to go with the daycare teacher.

He hadn’t understood Namjoon’s departure at first, asking you every day if he was coming home, if he’d been working too much. You didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, so you lied, saying Namjoon was away on a trip. He’d believed you for a while, but Hyun was as smart as Namjoon.

Now, he realized his father wasn’t coming back, and it only meant he clung on tighter to you. It broke your heart that Hyun thought you’d ever leave him. You wondered if he’d hate you should he ever find out you sent Namjoon away.

Summoning up the urge to peel Hyun off of you, you press a dozen kisses to his tear-stained cheeks, his tiny sniffles sending pangs of guilt through you. The daycare teacher smiles sympathetically at you, before luring Hyun away with a book, and you muster a tiny grin at his somewhat excited face. He was Namjoon’s son, through and through.

The thought of Namjoon sends a jolt of pain across your temples, and you resist the urge to cry in public, knowing you had a sea of tears stored. You thought you knew what you were doing, ending things between you two, but you’d never imagined how impossibly hard it would be doing everything alone.

Namjoon had been your partner in every way. He’d shouldered every burden with you equally, and celebrated every happiness. To have it all stop so suddenly felt more overwhelming than you could put into words.

It felt like your life had come to standstill, the man you’d left behind taunting you, while the future remained dark and murky. You’d do your best for Hyun, of course, but you didn’t know if you’d every truly be able to recover.

You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you. You can still have a happy life, meet someone new, fall in love again.

Yoongi’s words echo in the back of your mind, and you want to tell him just how wrong he was, but the sight of someone leaning against your car stops you.

Your shocked face stares into Namjoon’s dark eyes, and you feel the ground slip out from underneath you. Namjoon’s arms are out before you can even topple over, catching you. He looks taller, his hair longer, wearing what looks like an expensive designer suit, the fabric more fine than anything you’ve seen before.

He looks at you with concern, studying for any signs that you’re sick, or hurt. When he’s satisfied with your overall condition, he finally speaks.

“I’m not going to take up too much of your time, I swear. I have some things to do after this.”

You wonder what things he’s referring to, and decide you don’t want to know.

“I just,” he starts, but pauses mid-way, shoulders slumping. “I just wanted to see you again. And Hyun. I’m sorry ___.”

You give a subtle nod, but no indication that you have any sympathy for him, and turn to leave. Before you can get into the car, he spins you towards him again.

“My real name is Kim Namjoon. Not Kang. I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but my father’s name is Kim Yonghyun. You don’t have to say anything, or respond, but you deserve to know.”

And then he lets you go.

Tucking a sleeping Hyun into bed, you sit down on the couch, the bright glare of your laptop hurting your eyes. Opening Google, you type in Kim Yonghyun, and your mouth gapes in shock.

The articles about the Kim family go back for decades. They’re not just a lowlife gang, they’re an entire organization. Yonghyun was their current leader, and Namjoon was his son. Heir to a criminal legacy. Your gut twists as you click more articles, names popping up that were familiar to you - Lee, Ahn, Song. These people owned over half the city. They were everywhere, infiltrating your daily life. And you’d fallen in love with one of them. Suddenly, parts of Namjoon’s past begin to click for you. The way he’d been so desparate to have a normal college experience, dragging you out to a bar with him. The way he’d put his entire soul into doing well at his classes, interviewing for jobs. You’d always told him to slow down, that the two of you had many years to figure it out, but for Namjoon, figuring it out was difference between life and death.

You wonder if your kind, gentle husband who loved books and stopped for tiny animals on the side of the road had ever killed a man.

Slamming your laptop shut, you curl up in the blankets of the couch, hoping that tonight Namjoon wouldn’t chose to visit you in your dreams again.

Namjoon frowns, looking over the stack of files that Seokjin had unceremoniously dumped on his desk. Unbelievable. His father had him reading through twenty years’ worth of documents on the organization, everything from the code of honour to the accounts. The old man didn’t trust him.

His glasses slide down his nose, and he rubs at his temples. Disappearing without a trace hadn’t been his finest move.

“This look suits you,” Seokjin snickers from across the table, and Namjoon scowls. “You look like a proper godfather.”

“Shut it,” Namjoon grumbles, and Seokjin’s smile only grows wider.

“Only like being called daddy, huh?” he quips, and Namjoon’s ears go red. Fuck Seokjin and his merciless teasing.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me—” Seokjin looks at him with wide eyes, and Namjoon holds up a hand to cut him off.

“One more word, hyung, and you’ll wish you kept your stupidly perfect mouth shut.”

“So,” Seokjin ignores him completely, spinning around in his office chair. “What’s the grand plan, Godfather Kim? You gonna take over for Yonghyun or what?”

Namjoon doesn’t respond, and Seokjin leans over the table.

“Is it really that bad, Namjoon? Our org is more well-run than most of the other lowlifes on the streets. You have everything here - unlimited respect, unlimited bitches, unlimited money.”

“There’s more to life than bitches and money, hyung.” And Seokjin rolls his eyes.

“God, you and Yoongi are the exact same. You get married and turn into huge simps. So, tell me about her.”

Namjoon looks up, prepared to tell Seokjin that he’s not in the mood for his jokes, but the look in the older man’s eyes is sincere, like he genuinely wants to know.

“___ is,” Namjoon begins. “She’s everything to me. Before I met her, I didn’t know one person could change your entire life. After I ran away, I wondered if I made the right decision, about whether leaving this all behind was worth it. But she, she made it worth it. She and Hyun are the best things that have ever happened to me.”

Namjoon closes the file, rising abruptly. Running into you had been an impulsive decision, and he hadn’t fully prepared himself for the rush of emotions he felt seeing you again. Your hair still smelt like the jasmine shampoo you used, the bags under your eyes darker and your clothes a little rumpled, but his body still responded in the same way it had when you’d shyly kissed him when he dropped you off after a study date so many years ago. And he felt guilty.

“Namjoon-ah, I’m sorry.” Seokjin’s words make him turn sharply. “We didn’t want to drag them into this, I swear.”

“What do I do hyung?” Namjoon holds back a sob. “I lost her.”

“You’re a smart guy, Namjoon-ah. You’ll figure things out. You always have.”

The knock on the door startles you awake, and you nearly fall out of bed looking at the time on the alarm clock. 12:03am. Quietly slipping into your house shoes, you check on Hyun, afraid something had happened to your baby. A deep sigh of relief escapes when you see him nestled in his crib, sleeping peacefully with one fist curled up into a tiny ball.

Padding down the stairs, you look at the various pictures on the wall - photos of you and Namjoon and Hyun throughout the years. Your graduation photos, your engagement photos, your wedding, Hyun’s first birthday. Memories that had been destroyed in the blink of an eye. The crushing realization hits you that you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to keep this house anymore. What’s worse is that you realize you may not want to either.

You peek through the doorhole, paling when you see Namjoon on the other end, and you’re sure he knows you’re currently behind the door. Throwing the door open, you take in his disheveled appearance, suit rumpled and hair sticking up in every direction, Yoongi right behind him.

“I–, I’m sorry,” he stutters. “I just wanted to see Hyun. Five minutes, that’s all.”

“He’s asleep,” you clarify, wanting him to leave as quickly as possible. “Now is not a good time.”

“Please,” he begs, his eyes misting, and you move without thinking, stepping aside to let him in.

Behind him, Yoongi follows, back in your home for the second time in as many months, and you watch his eyes flicker to the various portraits that line the walls and sit on top of the tables.

Namjoon climbs up the stairs, and you don’t know why you decide to follow along, intruding on the private moment as he disappears into Hyun’s nursery.

“Hyunnie,” his low voice echoes into the emptiness of the room. “How are you buddy? You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you.”

The heaviness in Namjoon’s voice makes it clear to you that he’s crying, and your arms itch to wrap around him, to comfort him. He wasn’t a terrible father.

Namjoon stares at the cot for a few moments longer, never making a move to reach for Hyun, and then he turns and makes his way out, stopping in the hallway.

“Thank you—”

“Do you want a cup of tea?” you blurt out.

Nodding silently, Namjoon follows you down to the kitchen, Yoongi appearing shocked that he doesn’t seem to be heading straight for the door.

“Both of you sit, please. I’ll make some tea.”

You get to work, pots and pans clattering as you swear under your breath, trying to keep the volume down so you don’t disturb Hyun.

Yoongi’s sharp eyes peer across the table at Namjoon, and he nods, subtly willing Namjoon to break the not so awkward silence.

“My father, I mean, I, uh-, I have some money set aside for Hyun’s college fund.”

Yoongi’s neutral stare turns into daggers, and Namjoon grows even more flustered.

“I don’t want to take your money.” You set the tea mugs on the table, pulling up a chair, the only sound the be heard the occasional slurp of the hot beverage.

“___, is there nothing I can do to make this work? I want to fix this.”

His plea surprises even Yoongi, who turns to look at your reaction. You remain frozen, mouth agape, before firmly nodding your head.

“I can’t trust you Namjoon. You lied to them, you lied to me for so many years. That doesn’t just go away.”

“I know. It won’t go away, but it doesn’t have to. But maybe we can put these pieces back together, use them to build a stronger foundation. Like kintsugi.”

The mention of the golden seams fills you with a warmth you didn’t think was possible to feel again. You look down at the mug you’d picked out, and a small smile graces your face when you see that it’s the one he repaired for you in the same way right after you’d dropped it during your first week in the house.

The conversation suddenly feels too suffocating, to intimate for your weary-eyed self in the dead of the night. There was a lot the two of you had to work through, things that could take years to properly unpack. Could you condemn yourself to that nightmare? Could you subject Hyun to the pain of two parents who had a hard time being in the same room? You weren’t sure it was worth it. But you also knew that Namjoon would keep turning up, using Hyun as an excuse or blaming a coincidence, just so he could convince you again.

“We should get some sleep,” you put the mug down, your soft steps echoing as you walk out, leaving the two men alone, but not before you hear Yoongi’s hushed voice.

“College fund? Really?”

The recoil of the shot rings in Namjoon’s ears as he watches the bullet whiz through the air, missing the target completely and lodging itself into the wall. He lets out a heavy sigh, the empty weapon falling from his hands.

“Great job, Namjoon-hyung. You were so close! You’ll definitely make it next time.” The doe-eyed boy next to him bounces with pent-up energy, patting him on the back. Jeon Jungkook was every bit the son that Yonghyun deserved. He, along with new recruits to the Kim clan, his cousin Taehyung and Park Jimin, were the sons that Yonghyun always deserved. Never missing a mark. Never fucking up a mission. Never running away from anything. Namjoon doesn’t have the heart to tell Jungkook he missed on purpose. Not because he sucked, but because he was a coward. The pressure from his father had been mounting for him to finally prove himself worthy of the Kim lineage, and to send him out on a mission. Namjoon had accepted with reservations in his heart - no longer sure where his life was taking him.

The good news was you started to let him visit Hyun, Namjoon slipping through the door at the middle of the night to stroke his son’s hair. He could feel your eyes watching him from the nursery door, but you never came inside.

He thinks back to his last visit a few days ago.

He’d been brave enough to press a kiss to Hyun’s chubby face, his cheeks puffing out as he stirred slightly, which was Namjoon’s cue to back away. Until he heard it.

Come back Appa, the tiny voice whimpered, and Namjoon had never walked faster out of Hyun’s room, tears clinging to his lashes until he bumped into your frozen figure outside. Your cheeks were wet with tears too, and Namjoon didn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around you, sobbing into your shoulder, the two of you staying like that longer than he could count.

When you finally separated, a choked whimper escaped you, like you wanted to say something, but instead, you turned on your heel, sprinting towards what was once your shared bedroom. The soft thud of the door slamming shut had been the end of that.

“Jeon, can I steal him for a second?” Yoongi comes up behind him, clapping Namjoon on the back. He’s not alone. His wife, who Namjoon had known well throughout their childhood, is behind him, the two of them looking at him with a mischevious glint in their eyes.

“You’ll never believe who we ran into just now,” Yoongi’s wife laughs, and Namjoon tilts his head in confusion.

She launches into an animated discussion about how she’d seen ___ and Hyun while touring a a daycare for Hana, Yoongi’s daughter.

“She’s wonderful Namjoon, why haven’t you ever introduced us?” Namjoon looks to Yoongi for support, but the other man just smirks, placing a reassuring hand on his wife’s back.

“Don’t worry dear, I have a feeling we’ll see Namjoon and ____ together sooner than we’ll think,” reaching for his phone.

Namjoon’s own phone pings with the notification of a text, and he looks down to see that Yoongi has sent him a discreet picture of ____ and Hyun, smiling happily as they talked to his wife, and he breathes a sigh of relief. The way you talked to them with ease puts a small glimmer of hope in his chest, that maybe with time, with convincing, you could be okay with this. Okay with him. And that the three of you could be happy again.

He’d keep fighting for you both. He had to.

Shivering, you shake tiny droplets from your hair as you step inside, the stark, white walls of the gallery as uninviting as the outside climate. You chatter your teeth and rub your arms in an attempt to warm up. Hyun was at daycare, and part of you felt guilty for leaving him there when you knew you didn’t have any work meetings today, but you needed time alone. To think.

The receptionist greets you with a warm smile, excitedly telling you all about their latest exhibit, and you smile and nod politely, eager to get away from her chipper presence, and to bask in your own gloom. You could have done anything else today - caught up on paperwork, tackled the massive pile of laundry that sat in your room, had a treat-yourself session at the mall, but something compelled you to come and see the new gallery that had opened in the city. Sighing, you realize it’s probably because Namjoon would have loved it, and you missed seeing the way his eyes twinkled when he saw a piece he liked, standing behind you and sending goosebumps all along your arm when he whispered the meaning into your ear.

Half the time, the comments would quickly stray away from the art, and turn to the way he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you at home, to tear your clothes off, to have you screaming under him while he made you forget your own name. Another shiver hits you, but this time, it’s not from the cold.

Shoes clacking, you step into the open space, the paintings arranged neatly along the wall, and you pick one to study.

The interlocking lines and the bold geometric patterns kept you busy, your eyes flitting from corner to corner, head swimming with thoughts about the tricks the painting seemed to be playing. They looked like they went on forever, creating a grid, or a map, that careened off the canvas, trailing off into infinity. It made you feel even more lonely, a mere speck in this huge world, full of so many things you were unaware of.

“It’s called Nucleus,” a voice calls out from behind you. One that you knew all too well. You turn to see Namjoon, his hair equally soaked and heavy coat dripping onto the floor. You should have known he’d be interested in the exhibit. It wasn’t like mafia bosses existed outside the realm of humanity.

You want to back away as he comes closer, but remain frozen in place.

“The lines and patterns are supposed to draw your eyes to every corner, make you study the entire painting, but it’s a trick of course. All that really matters is how they come together in the center, creating a focal point of attention. A nucleus. An omphalos. A heart.”

You look up at him, sucking in a sharp breath, and you want to be alone, somewhere private, somewhere he couldn’t see you break down from all the pain, all the hurt that you’d put the two of yourselves through.

Namjoon senses you’re about to leave before you do, and he already slips an arm around your waist, stopping you in your tracks.

“It’s raining. Let me drop you home.”

Gulping, you nod your agreement, his hand never leaving it’s place on your waist as the two of you step out into the deluge.

. . .

Rain always scared you. You hated how dark it made everything seem, the eerie shadows it would cast through the blinds of your home, the loud crackle of thunder that would wake Hyun up with a sob.

Namjoon, on the other hand, loved the rain. It reminded him that the world wasn’t monolithic, that it was ever-changing. It helped him realize that he didn’t have to be forced into a role he didn’t want to play, that while it poured outside, new life could be born and could blossom.

The two of you come to a pause outside the doorstep, Namjoon’s eyes mirroring the storm outside, full of uncertainty. You were sure you were the same, the two of you mirroring each other, but no longer having the same nucleus to pivot around.

Namjoon holds his breath, wanting a few more moments with you to remember, before fate would inevitably set you on your separate ways again. He can smell the dew collecting on the grass, but there’s also the fragrance of your shampoo, and he observes the way the droplets collect on the tip of your nose, before dropping down to wet your lips.

You surge forward, seeking his lips, and Namjoon stumbles for a brief second, before his arm comes up to wrap around you, meeting you halfway. You feel dizzy, clinging onto his warmth like it’s an anchor, keeping you from floating away from this moment.

The solid wood behind you falls away when Namjoon wrestles with the doorknob, the two of you slipping and sliding into the entryway, Namjoon’s tongue becoming more insistent, and a low whine escapes from the back of your throat.

The two of you part, soaked and trembling, and Namjoon rests his forehead to yours. You can feel his hot breath fan against your cheeks, now flushed from the cold, and you realize your fists are still balled into the heavy material of his jacket.

Heat rises in your chest, and you feel like a livewire, tingling at the mere thought of having Namjoon so close to you again. You knew this was a bad idea, that it would complicate everything, but you didn’t have it in you to care, heart skipping a beat when Namjoon pulls you back in, seeking your lips once more.

The coat falls to the floor in no time at all, and you can’t stop your hands from roaming everywhere, Namjoon’s damp shirt doing nothing to hide the body you knew so well, the one you’d probably never forget.

His thumbs slip underneath the hem of your shirt, tracing circles into the top of your hips, you whine even louder.

Moments later, the scratchy sheets of the bed meet your back, Namjoon setting you down softly, reaching over his head to take off his soaked clothes. Sighing, you reach for his hands, the warm fingertips slipping through your cold ones easily, and pull him towards you, limbs tangling together in desperation. Your skirt slips up to your waist, exposing your soaked panties, and Namjoon’s hands settle on your thighs, gripping them hard enough to leave marks, and dips his head down to leave soft kisses on your core.

“Say it,” he begs. “Say you want me.”

“I n-need you, Joon, need to feel you, fuck–”

You moan when he pushes the fabric to the side, flicking his tongue against your folds, and your hands reach for his hair, tugging at the strands while he groans underneath.

“Fuck, I missed the way you taste, always so good for me,” he groans, slipping a finger in to circle around your clit, and you writhe against him, unable to take the teasing.

“Does my pretty girl want me to fuck her?” He groans into your pussy, arms flexing to keep you spread out underneath him, and you babble incoherently, unable to put your desire into words. All you knew was that you never wanted this moment to end.

When you feel yourself teetering on the brink, body flushing with anticipation, it all stops. Panting, you look at Namjoon, his dark eyes surveying you hungrily, and a shiver makes its way down your spine.

“Ride me, baby,” he orders.

Peeling the rest of your wet clothes off, you watch Namjoon settle into the pillows, like he never left at all, and it makes your heart lurch. His hand reaches for yours when you climb back over him, hips straddling his thighs, and he presses it to his chest, right above where his heart beats, hissing when he slips into you.

You rock against him slowly, gently, your heavy breathing the only sound amidst the backdrop of rain, and his hands reach for you, roaming over every bit of your body, light touches that drive you wild. Leaning back, you anchor yourself on the sheets, allowing him to roll his hips upward, the two of you moving in tandem.

“Mine,” he sighs, cupping your ass. “All mine.”

“Yours,” you echo, walls clenching around him when he began to slowly rub circles on your clit, tears stinging your eyes.

His other hand reaches for your neck, pulling you in to wipe the tears away with the pad of his thumb, his eyes never leaving yours as you fall apart around him, Namjoon’s thrusts speeding up as he groans into your shoulder, your arms drawing circles into his back as he spills inside of you.

Lifting you off of him, his arms reach around your body to press you against him, his lips ghosting your forehead, and you feel a wet trail of tears on his cheeks as the words spill out, and he tells you everything.

Tells you about growing up with a father who belittled and abused him for being weak, about his mother who left when he was a teen, about Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok, his friends who he feels like he’d abandoned. He tells you that he’s not sure what the right thing is anymore, not sure who needs him more – the city or his family, and how he feels so fucking lost all the time. He rambles until his voice becomes thick with fatigue, slowly eventually to the deep breaths you’d come to know beside you for yours, and you wrap his arms tighter around you.

When you wake up in the morning, he’s gone.

Namjoon’s head pounds with guilt as he follows his father into the car, the tinted windows obscuring his plight from the world around him. Behind him, Yoongi and Hoseok look on with sharp eyes, guns belted into their holsters, preparing themselves for the imminent shitshow that was about to arise.

The problem was, it had already begun the moment Namjoon kissed you last night. His mind runs through the countless memories he’d stored from that night, from your soft lips to the sharp cries of pleasure that he’d wrought from you, and decides that he’s even more fucked now.

Looking at his phone, his thumb hovers over the text you’d sent him, one that was definitely borne from anger at seeing an empty bed when you woke up.

I’m leaving with Hyun in a week. Please don’t come and see us again.

Sighing, he decides to focus on the car moving to quell his nausea, to keep back the bile that rises in his throat. He had to hold it together in front of Yonghyun. If he messed this up now, he’d have nothing left.

. . .

Taking the receipt from the bank teller, you survey the amount of money withdrawn, praying it’s enough for you to start somewhere new with Hyun, your heart breaking at the thought of finally leaving Namjoon for good. You’re one foot out the door when you hear a voice behind you.

“___? Is that you?” Turning, you’re met with the handsome face of Kim Seokjin, looking grim-faced in a black suit.

Ignoring him, you keep walking. You wanted nothing to do with him, nothing to do with Namjoon anymore.

“___, please, please wait,” he stops you with a hand on your arm, beckoning you to sit with him. The two of you make your way to a secluded bench in a park, and Seokjin stares at you, before sighing in defeat, realizing you weren’t going to talk.

“Yonghyun is taking Namjoon to make a deal with the Lees today,” he looks out at the people strolling by. “It’s a test for him – if Namjoon does well, he’ll become the leader. These types of things usually go one of two ways - either we handle it, or becomes a bloodbath.”

“Good for him,” you grit through your teeth, ignoring the way your heart does a flip. “It seems like that’s what he wanted all along.”

“I’m not here to talk to you about Namjoon,” he says somberly. “Whatever happened is between him and you, it’s not my place to interfere.”

“Look,” you say with a clipped voice, “Can we cut this bullshit? What do you want Seokjin? You can’t convince me to go back to him.”

“I’m here to tell you about me,” he says, his eyes trained to the ground. “About my story.”

“What makes you think I want to hear anything about you?” you say, instantly regretting how rude it sounded.

“You probably don’t, but I always do this. Whenever I have this random feeling like everything might go to shit, I find the most random person I can think of, and tell them about Kim Seokjin. It makes me feel like less of a petty criminal, and more of a human, like someone people would want to remember. Sometimes it’s the ahjumma who runs a fruit stand, or the ahjusshi on his way to work. Sometimes it’s a bored kid. Today, I just happened to find you.”

He offers you a sip of his coffee, and you politely decline.

“I guess I should start at the beginning,” he chuckles. “I’ve known Namjoon since before he could walk. My father was his right hand man, but my parents were killed when I was young. Namjoon’s family took me in, and soon enough Yoongi and Hoseok joined our little circle. We were the best of friends’ thick as thieves, and for a while we were happy, but then Namjoon’s mother left.”

Your mind flits back to Namjoon’s hurried conversation in bed, babbling about how his mother had enough, about how she had to go.

“Namjoon was nothing like his father. He was everything like her, and the moment he saw that Yonghyun had pushed her away, had turned her into an unhappy shell, he grew restless. I always knew he’d leave us one day, that he’d try to carve out his own path.”

“Yoongi and Hoseok were bitterly upset, they couldn’t believe him. I couldn’t either. I mean, what kind of dork runs away from a multi-million dollar empire for a college education?”

You laugh hollowly at his joke, and he musters a small smile.

“It must have been about two weeks after he left. Or maybe it was a month. I’m not sure anymore. When you’re as old as I am, the days all start to blend together.”

“You don’t look a day past thirty,” you quip, and he snickers.

“It started with a girl,” he sighs. “Most things do. Contrary to what you think, even members of the mafia need our old wake me up call, and I stepped into a random coffee shop, and there she was. I flirted with her like an idiot, cracked my silly jokes, and it felt different from all the pointless hook-ups I had, from all the missions I’d spent with a gun strapped to my back chasing money. We started seeing each other.”

You look past him out onto the park, guilt permeating your body at his words. Was this how Namjoon had felt when he met you? Were you really worth leaving behind everything to him.

“A month later, she was dead. Shot outside the coffee shop after locking up one night. All because they knew she was associated with me. All because I was selfish, and only thought of myself. That’s when I realized there was no way out for any of us, except Namjoon.”

Shuddering, you think back to the years Namjoon spent shrouding the dark side of himself from the world outside, how difficult it must have been to carry this black mark on his back for so long.

“I fucking hated everything in that moment. I hated my family, I hated my friends, I hated this life, I hated her. But most of all, I hated myself for being a walking target on the backs of those I cared about the most. I couldn’t console her family, her co-workers, I couldn’t do anything. They all would have seen me as the monster who caused her death. All I could fucking do was go back to doing what I had always done.”

He rises suddenly, telling you that he has to go soon, but that he needs to finish, that there’s something you need to hear.

“There was one night, where I was wandering around, recklessly drunk, probably in a park like this. I felt like doing something stupid – maybe killing someone, maybe shouting into the void. And I saw him. Namjoon. With you.”

You freeze. You and Namjoon had gone to the park hundreds of times, sometimes walking through it at night, other times riding your bike through the day. A chill runs down your spine when it hits you how close the two of you had come to meeting, Namjoon’s two worlds colliding.

“I wasn’t spying on you, I’m not an asshole. But you guys were being all cutesy and shit, and it finally struck me that he was in love. He hadn’t run away out of some misguided sense of fear, or superiority. He just wanted to live a normal life, one that was full of happiness. I never told anyone I saw you two because I knew it’d blow up in his face. And mine too. But I guess it did anyway, huh?”

Tapping his foot anxiously, his hands begin to shake as he grows restless.

“I gotta go. But even if you don’t take Namjoon back, and I’m not telling you that you have to, I’m telling you there was something there worth fighting for. Namjoon’s not a stupid man, he knows how to set priorities, and he chose you. And Hyun. That has to mean something.”

He turns on his heels, and you feel your head throb, eyes misting with tears.

“Seokjin!” you call out to him, and he turns, looking at you curiously. Smiling at him, you let a tear trickle down your face. “In another world, do you think we could’ve been friends? All of us?”

He smirks, crossing his arms.

“Maybe. But we’ll never know, will we?”

And with that he walks away.

Sweat trickles down Namjoon’s back as Yonghyun’s face grows redder, his screams becoming shriller. He can tell the Lees aren’t amused with his proposition to buy up more of their territory. His heart thuds in his ears, and he looks down the line to Yoongi, Hoseok, and Seokjin, who’d joined them recently. They all remain stone-faced, like they’d been through this before.

“Kim Yonghyun, you bought from us years ago and promised you’d double our investments,” Mr. Lee says calmly, and Namjoon fears him. “Instead, you’ve driven our businesses into the ground. Our partnership isn’t working anymore, we see no reason not to forfeit it.”

Every one of the Kims tenses around him, their shoulders slumping in defeat, mournful at the ruination of their empire. Namjoon, on the other hand, sighs in relief. This was it, he could finally be free from everything tying him down, he could make it right with you.

“You can take the boy,” Yonghyun says, nodding towards his son, and Namjoon’s blood runs cold. “Marry him off to one of your daughters. He’s of no use to us anyway.”

“NO!” Namjoon interrupts him, and Yonghyun cackles at his panicked face, his withered arm reaching for Namjoon, offering him up to the Lees.

Namjoon squirms in his father’s tight grip, the Lees looking on in horror, and Yonghyun groans.

“God, shut up, you stupid boy!” he howls. “I’m sick of you.”

And his arms close around Namjoon’s neck.

Namjoon’s lungs burn as he squeezes, the blood rushing out of his head, and the sounds around him become muffled, his father’s screams of delight the only thing he can hear as his vision becomes spotty.

Until a shot rings out,, followed by another and Namjoon feels his father slump forward, choking on blood as the two of them thud to the ground.

“Namjoon-ah,” Hoseok screams. “Are you with us, shit, shit, shit! Yoongi, help me, goddamnit.”

Together, the two of them pry Yonghyun off of him, and Namjoon regains enough clarity to see Kim Seokjin in front of him, smoke coming from the end of his pistol while he clutches his chest, the white of his shirt seeped in blood. Seokjin gives him a nod, and turns to leave, his footsteps echoing on the concrete stairs.

“We need to get you to a hospital, fuck,” Hoseok sobs, clutching Namjoon for dear life, and they carry him out.

Stirring, Namjoon rubs his eyes sleepily, the beep of a heart monitor and the IV attached to his arm telling him he’s in the hospital. Blinking, he focuses enough to figure out he’s alone, the only other person in the room the nurse who charts down his vitals.

“Are you feeling better, dear?” the kind voice asks, and Namjoon’s heart drops to his stomach. He’d know that voice anywhere.

“Eomma?” he croaks, turning to look at a face he hasn’t seen in years. She looks the exact same as the day she left.

“Namjoon-ah?” she whispers, her eyes looking him up and down like she can’t believe it. “Is it really you?”

She lets out a sob, coming to hug him, and he winces when she presses into his body.

“Oh I’m sorry, I forgot your arm was sprained,” she blubbers, and he doesn’t say anything, surveying her.

“You were here this whole time?” he says, voice breaking. “Why didn’t you come back to us? Why didn’t you find me?”

“Because I never wanted to see you like this, Namjoon-ah. I was afraid, and I was scared. I left because I knew what your father was capable of. He made it his personal mission to turn the lives around him into a living hell, to the point where people didn’t even want to live anymore. I didn’t want to one day cradle your lifeless body in my hands, either because he’d had enough or because you’d had enough.”

Namjoons eyes fill with tears at seeing his mother, the only other woman in his life who’d shown him what it was like to chose himself, to chose happiness. Everything that he’d been through, everything he’d had with you, had been by her example.

“I kept tabs on you, though, I’d always look in the charts of nearby hospitals, looking for your name. It was a sign of relief every time I didn’t see it.”

“Will you stay with me, Eomma?” Namjoon asks, and she smiles sadly.

“Namjoon, I can’t—, if your father ever got word of me, he’d—”

“He’s dead,” Namjoon declares. “Seokjin killed him.”

His mother’s eyes widen in surprise, a tear leaking from them, and she collapses into sobs, shaking at his bedside. Her body is so withered, frail from so many years of abuse, and Namjoon holds her in his arms, whispering reassurances into her ear.

“You’re safe, Eomma. We both are.”

Namjoon looks nervously at Yoongi and Hoseok, their nods encouraging him to go on, and he straightens the tie his mother had picked out. Making his way up the path to your door again, he prays that you and Hyun haven’t left yet.

The door opens before he can even knock, Hyun’s tiny figure looking up at him with wide eyes, and Namjoon resists the urge to sob at how much he’d grown up in the past couple of months.

“Hyunnie?” you call out to him, sounding exhausted. “Who’s at the door?”

When Hyun doesn’t answer, you decide to come check, only to find him wrapped in Namjoon’s arms, your son sobbing into his father’s shoulder. You freeze when you see his arm in a sling.

“Never gonna leave you again, bud,” he says, muffled into Hyun’s tiny shoulder.

“Namjoon? Why are you here? What’s going on? The Kims—”

“There are no Kims, ___. Not anymore. It’s over.”

You throw yourself against him, sobs wracking your body.

“I missed you, god I missed you so much, I was gonna go insane.”

Taking your hand in his, you look up at him, lifting them to press a kiss to his knuckles, and he smiles at you.

“Don’t leave me again, okay? Whatever you need to say you can it. I promise I’ll listen, and we can work through it.”

Gesturing for Hyun to come join you, he wraps you both in a tight hug, savoring it, until you lean close and whisper in his ears.

“You’re our nucleus, Namjoon.”

Namjoon realizes he’d never really been weak at all. Not like Yonghyun had seen him. And now, as the autumn leaves crackled on the lawn, and Hyun ran excitedly outside, jumping through them with Yoongi and Hoseok, he realized that there may come a time in his life where he’d have to choose again. And for all the times he could have committed himself to a life of doom, times that sought to tempt him with his worst nightmares, he’d come out of it choosing you every time.

Epilogue - 3 months later

“What do you mean he’s gone?” you look at Namjoon brows, furrowed in worry. Across the kitchen, Namjoon paces back and forth, feet clacking against the tile, as he resists the urge to rip his hair out.

In the distance, you can hear Hyun giggle, his halmeoni chasing him around the living room, and your eyes crinkle in a smile.

“Jungkook told me they haven’t been able to get a hold of him. Yoongi and Hoseok are up the wall.”

Rising from your seat, you try to calm your fretting husband, pressing a peck to his lips. You pout, and he sighs in resignation, knowing that it isn’t his problem to worry about. His hands come up to rest on your stomach, running over the tiny, firm bump that had brought forth new change into his life just two weeks ago.

“He’ll be fine, Namjoon,” you reassure him. “I know he will.”

“How?” Namjoon croaks out with worry, and you can’t blame him for his freakout.

“He’s Kim Seokjin, duh,” you deadpan, and Namjoon chuckles at your expression. “Now, stop this worrying, okay? I was promised matchamisu tonight, and I’m holding you to that.”

Accepting your hand, he lets you lead the way. Time for another date night.

a/n pt. 2: thank you for joining me on this crazy ride! for reference, the artist Namjoon and OC are talking about is Lee Seung Jio, and his series called Nucleus. As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

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