Nexus (m) Part 2

nexus (m) part 2

pairing: ot7 x freader smut: yoongi x reader chp-focus: jjk, ksj, myg

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate, took you in when you were young. you practically grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest

summary: accused of murdering your best friend, you team up with a vengeful detective in an effort to uncover the secrets of the family you swore your loyalty to

characters: detective!jungkook, bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model!hoseok, therapist!jimin

genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au

wordcount: 7k

warnings: explicit smut, rough sex, todays theme is JEALOUSY, manipulated consent (emotional blackmail), teasing, manhandling, fingering, dirty talk, breast play, crying, penetrative sex, rough oral (m), power plays, a very sexually charged card game and limo ride, a whole lot of SEXUAL TENSION, jin is a FLIRT, suggested dacryphilia, toxic relationships (jin sir pls u good), petnames--princess, mourning/angst, jungkook is hot and COLD (tsundere), obsessive themes, blackmail, guns, character death (nonrelevant), alcohol, gambling, fear, mention of psychiatric treatment

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind @toughbook @mini-euphoria @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

The smell. The distinct smell of false hope. Strong enough to cover the heaps of despair and loss which built it. The casino was ever lively—money on the table, green on green. The sounds of hearty laugher audible over the subdued jazz. Behind the polished bar, Yoongi watched over the crowd with caution. A smile painted on his face like art, unmoving but beautiful to those who looked upon him. He’d chat up his patrons, expertly pouring drinks, movements fluid as he created liquored masterpieces. The trust he held, like a chemist preparing a cure. Their lives locked in his palms.

He excused himself, towel thrown over his shoulder. His all black uniform a welcome contrast to his pale skin. Like a shadow he slipped into the back office. Within a small desk drawer was his pistol. A custom model—the five-letter branding so subtle only those who knew would be able to find it.

He held the weight of the gun in his hand. Nimble fingers tracing along it’s contours. The metal was cold to touch—and he hated it. He hated the life he had been thrown into against his will. But he did it for you.

And you hardly knew. You were utterly blind to the leash which held a vigorous hold around his neck. Even on nights where you’d kiss him so sweetly he could almost forgive you.

Ears tingling from the absence of the pounding music, deep-set laugher. Laughter only those with no care in the world could afford. The silence reminiscent of the void in his heart. He loaded the weapon. Locked in the cartridge and stared down the barrel. You’d look beautiful with it stuffed down your throat. But more likely, it would be Jin pointing it down his.

Tucking the gun in his back pocket, his shoulders relaxed.

A window to the casino floor showed a weak reflection. The fear in his eyes still hiding amongst theatrics of bravery. The fear that the Kim heir had beaten into him with his raw fists. The crooked man who you worshipped was a menace. But you worshipped the ground he walked on, and Yoongi simply couldn’t break the spell.

He returned to the bar. Smile wide with charisma. Despite the pulse of the casino around him, the weight of the gun dragged him down. A harrowing reminder of who he belonged to.

Yoongi hated gambling. It was his least favorite thing about you, yet you knew not of the high-stakes gamble he played almost every night. With every strategically poured drink and every charming conversation, he collected fragments of information, forging alliances and defying destiny. With every step, he embodied the dual essence of a bartender and a gangster—making him a valuable piece in Kim Seokjin’s game.

“Promise me something” The night before, you looked at him with so much adoration, he swore he could melt into your touch.

“Don’t fall in love with me. Because I can never love you back”

His lips parted, shocked—breathing in. Met in seconds with a kiss so incredibly hot that he could feel the burn even hours later. His palms immediately cupping your cheeks, lips pressed tight against yours, unwavering. The pain searing with your words made him dizzy. Made him nauseous. You were sickening, addictive and he craved you insatiably. 

Deeping the kiss as he tilted your head back more. Eyes shut—lost in the feeling. Everything vanished. There was only him. Only you.

He pulled you in closer—lifting you into his arms. Soft moans escaping but neither of you separated for long. He didn’t want to part. Didn’t want to breathe. He wanted to be consumed by the crippling mess you were. Lips sliding across your jaw—peppering hot kisses down your neck. Your fingers weaving through his hair, guiding him. He gripped your hips gently, knee slotting between your legs.

“Promise me, Yoongi” You exhaled quietly, breath uneven, shaky. “I need you to say it”

Yoongi’s teeth grazed over your ear as he grunted in irritation. Fingers intertwining with yours he finally backed away, meeting your eyes.

“We can’t do this unless you promise” Exasperated, he cupped your face again, thumb tracing your bottom lip fondly. You grabbed his wrist, begging him with your eyes. Your voice was quiet. So quiet he could feel your words without hearing them. Lust burned in his gaze—eyes darkening.

The pain was delicious. The ache burning in his heart. He had never entertained the thought of ever having feelings for you. Never rendered the possibility. He understood the arrangement well. But hearing you say it. Seeing the way you looked at him. The way you kissed him, let him touch you, let him make love to you night after night.

“Yoongi, please” Words had a way of ruining the most beautiful things. Yoongi wondered if he had just stayed quiet, would the pain never come? You began clawing at his shirt, popping the buttons off one by one. Yoongi hissed, tugging at your lip warningly. Blinking at you for a second, he seemed to weigh his options. He lifted you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around him.

Staring at you a moment, everything slowed down. He grew annoyed. Why would you say that to him—you didn’t know him. You had no way of knowing whether or not you could love him so why cut off the possibility? Would it really be so wrong? He would care for you. Far better than any of those Kim bastards ever could, anyway.

“Yoongi” You screamed, back slammed against the wall. His hands hovered over your shoulders, fingers hooked under the straps of your bra. Swiftly he pulled them off, allowing it to fall into a puddle on the floor, his shirt following. Yoongi simply chuckled, pushing two fingers down your throat.

Yoongi pulled his fingers out, smirking slightly at the way your eyes quivered. He slid his hand down your body, under your panties so he could paint your quivering cunt with his wet fingers. He watched you carefully as he drew small, tight circles on your clit. His other hand on your neck, thumb tilting your chin up to face him.

“Yoongi stop” Your voice was tiny, almost afraid. The sound only made his heart pound.

“Fuck no” He growled. He dipped his fingers into your cunt, allowing his palm to flatten as you unconsciously grinded your hips against it. Curling his finger, he pumped in and out of you—your eyes rolling back. His lips going down your chest, dragging your bra down with his teeth till he could round his lips over your tender nipples.

A loud moan left your lips, causing him to hiss. Pulling his finger out he turned you around, pushing your chest against the wall before gripping your panties and tearing them in two. It burned against your skin, a dizzying sensation in your head as you heard the fabric rip. Immediately he pumped two fingers back inside, teeth grazing over your shoulders. His belt unlatched, you felt his hard cock slap against your ass. He pushed you down, bending you over with a hand tight  on your neck, holding you steady.

“Who the fuck do you think you are huh? You came onto me, bitch. You don’t call the shots anymore, I do” You whimpered as his thick head pushed in. He lifted you onto his cock, chest pressed up tight against yours—looking nowhere except deep into your eyes.

You sank down so perfectly. Your tight walls hot against his pulsing length. Your legs wrapped around his waist so tight he could barely move. It was emotional, the way you held onto him as he rolled his hips, pulsing into you. Staggered breaths. Sweat on his forehead.

Harder. His hips jerked at the sound of your pussy, dripping out with his every move. Your eyes blasted with lust—lips parted, so incredibly fucked out with pleasure it had him salivating. Pretty little moans as he fucked into you.

Tight. Fast. Lost in your sensation. Eyes rolling to the back of his head.

His lips nipped at your jaw, tasting the sweat glazed over your skin.

“Where can I come?” His voice was hoarse. Low and broken with need. You stilled yourself, sliding off of his throbbing cock until you found your feet and stood. Within seconds you slid to your knees, mouth wide open—eager to please.

He swore you had never looked more beautiful.

He admired your face. Lips swollen, pressing his flushed tip between them, eyes wide with a false innocence. Swiping the drool away from the edge of your lips. You let your tongue wrap around his length, cautiously, exploring across his veins, watching his reactions as you tightened your cheeks around him.

Yoongi’s eyes rolled back, hissing as you began to bob your head up and down. Sloppy, saliva dripping everywhere, the obscene sounds exemplified by you taking him throat-deep, gagging all over. He chanted like a mantra, “Just like that…fuck…just like that”

Both hands on his base, you worked him vigorously, enjoying his throaty moans echoing throughout the room. He bucked his hips, tugging at your jaw as he pushed further down your throat. “Always so good to me”

His hand moved to your forehead, his grip on your head leading you along his shaft, urging you to go faster. He thrusted his hips forwards, forcing you to take him all the way. Fucking your face roughly.

“You can take it, I know you can baby come on” Back and forth, he pulled his cock all the way out, letting you catch your breath before stuffing you full once again. You squealed around him, smacking your lips, pouring yourself into your movements.

Every fiber of his body shuddered as he came, twitching and jerking as he spilled deep in your throat. You licked up every last drop.

He dreaded the silence that followed the beautiful storm. He pulled you into an embrace before you could think too card. Laying you down, peppering you with kisses. Loving ones.

He didn’t know you, and you didn’t know him.

But he wanted to change that. He wanted to fight.

He nuzzled into your neck. Sweet. You blinked back tears. He saw this, growing concerned. “Baby I—I didn’t mean to be rough”

You shook your head, sniffling. “It’s not you I just” The tears spilled down your cheeks. Yoongi’s heart wrenched, reaching to wipe them away. His touch endearing. “I don’t want to hurt you”

Yoongi pressed his lips against yours. Long, sweetly. A tired, exasperated kiss that seemed to say you’re incredibly, utterly perfect.

“I just don’t make promises I can’t keep”

You had cast a spell on him and he was undoubtedly cursed.

The next morning, Kim Seokjin had arrived at the suite. The broad man appeared much friendlier in person than the magazine shoots he had seen him in with his infamous mother. Likely his same age, he was undeniably handsome. Brown eyes that incited mischief, yet with a softness that was almost genuine.

Almost.

You had answered the door, wearing a fluffy casino robe. Unphased when you saw your dear friend. He looked at you briefly, before his eyes shifted to Yoongi who was still in bed.

“Morning princess” Tone was steady, smile evident, but Yoongi could see the irritation in his eyes.

“Hey” You greeted him politely. “Did you need something?”

Jin’s gaze was locked on Yoongi. “Actually, I’m here to talk to him” You seemed to pout. “Don’t worry, it’s just work stuff. Give us a minute, okay?”

Reluctantly, you wandered off.

Jin painted another smile on his face, entering the room. He walked up to where Yoongi had stepped out of bed. “Yoongi—right? I’ve heard great things about the tips you bring in”

There it was. The tricky power games that were synonymous with Kim Seokjin’s reputation.

“Yes sir”

Jin grinned at his attitude. “Now, Yoongi. Man to man. Where do you see this” He gestured his hand, “Going?”

Yoongi pursed his lips. He knew getting involved with these kinds of people was always complicated. But he was in too deep. He wasn’t going to give up on you just over some baseless threats. What he really wanted to know—was how the fuck Jin knew where you were? Was this motherfucker having you followed?

“She came onto me, sir”

“Oh I know” Jin chuckled, “She was nursing a broken heart, poor thing. My idiotic brother crushed her, so she’s acting out”

Namjoon. Yoongi recalled.

Jin’s gaze was intense—serious now, in contrast to his playfulness earlier. “I want you to understand something, Yoongi.” He took a seat on the bed. Leaning back, his hair flipped over his forehead. “I’m allowing this. For now.”

“Sir”

“There will be a time where I’ll need you to back off. And you’ll do it, otherwise your dean is going to get an interesting phone call”

Yoongi swallowed thickly. He didn’t like being threatened. How could you live like this? Did these guys interfere in every part of your life?

“Yes sir” He responded, humbly. Jin seemed satisfied.

“One last thing” Jin stood up, brushing the dust off of the lapel of his designer suit. He rest his hand on Yoongi’s bare shoulder. Skin cold to touch. Grip firm. “Hurt her, and I will kill you”

You made your way back eventually, noticing Yoongi’s shifted demeanor.

“Sorry, I know Jin is a lot sometimes” You kissed him, crawling into his lap where he sat, defeated. “He’s just looking out for me. We’re like best friends”

Yoongi scoffed. How naïve could you be? He knew crazy when he saw it, and that man was no friend of yours. He looked at you, eyes softening once he saw how cutely you were grinning.

“I’m glad he approved” You beamed at him. “This means, we can like, actually hang out…if you want”

God, of course he did. He would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked. Interestingly, Jin was welcome to Yoongi after that day. You would bring him along on weekend getaways, Monaco, Bali, Paris and Milan. Jin would be there, occupied by his own vices while you and Yoongi got lost in a honeymoon haze. Sharing your darkest thoughts under the eastern sunrise, to hushed confessions under the northern stars. He learned you. Knew you like the back of his hand. Your quirks, likes, irritations and dreams.

“You’ve seriously never had feelings for him?” He asked you one day. You made a face.

“I’ve only ever loved Namjoon” Ouch.

Yoongi was skeptical. Frankly because Yoongi knew you were in love with him from the way your eyes would light up talking about him. Your memories from childhood, or the intimate laughs the two of you would share. You followed him like a little lamb, adapting his crazy lifestyle and engaging with his elitist friends. And after the glimmering lights would go down, you’d make your way to Yoongi, who was…

What was he?

A dog. You had him on a leash, Jin had him in a cage. He was a mutt allowed to you out of pity, to distract you from the real things that were controlling your life. Yoongi’s job was to give you a semblance of control. A sexual outlet, a shoulder to lean on.  

And Yoongi hated you. Hated who you were around Jin and hated that no matter what he did, Jin would be a huge part of your life. Even if he did somehow, miraculously, make you fall in love with him, make you feel for him what he did for you without a doubt—Jin would still have control. Yoongi was useless in his shadow. It enfuriated him. Drove him mad. What lengths would he have to go to get you? What would it take for Kim Seokjin to back the fuck off and let you live your own life?

But your life was never your own. And now here he was, all the loyalty paid off into dust as he tended the bar at your engagement party. It was ridiculous. Did he truly mean so little to you—that he wasn’t even a guest? Let alone the fact that it infuriated him you had to marry one of these twisted, god-awful Kim boys against your will.

In front of him, the man of the hour—the so-called Kim Taehyung, sat with a dirty smirk on his face, eyes drilled onto the pair of die rolling in his palm.

“So”

It was in the job description. Make conversation with the guests. Yoongi had been around long enough to know how to make men like Kim Taehyung feel great about themselves, in more ways than one.

“Been a while since you’ve been home huh”

He set down the shaker, straining the drink mix into a margarita glass with a slight flick of his wrist. Taehyung watched the steady pour of the liquid.

“Absolutely” He smiled, although Yoongi could tell it was fake. “I had to come home. See my family—my brothers. After all,” He flashed his forearm at Yoongi, where the Kim crest was neatly tattooed, same as his brothers.

Yoongi squinted. He knew about the tattoo. He had seen it, both on Namjoon and Jin. He knew they got it after their mother died. But as far as he knew, Taehyung had left at a fairly young age, not keeping in contact with his family. Taehyung hadn’t been around for his mother’s death.

Right? Yoongi pursed his lips. Taking another look, he watched Taehyung carefully. Round eyes, thick lips, small fingers in which the dice rolled.

He looked familiar. Yoongi swore he must have seen this man somewhere before. He knew nothing of where Taehyung had been for the past ten years. According to you, no one did.

“Please excuse me,” Nodding politely, Yoongi rushed off into the storage room. Grabbing his phone, he googled the man you were about to get engaged to.

Kim Taehyung.

Nothing.

Nothing at all—not even so much as a media article on the engagement. No photographs, nothing.

But I know I’ve seen you somewhere.

He went to his own camera roll, scrolling aimlessly in an attempt to jog his memory. Would it have been school? The casino? He couldn’t figure it out.

Until he saw it.

A group picture. From a dinner one of his professors had invited him to. There he was—Kim Taehyung.

Except there was no way, Yoongi would have remembered if he met someone with that name. Was he going by an alias? Who was he?

Dialing his professor, he gulped the sour bitterness in his mouth.

“Yoongi? Odd time to be calling—is everything alright?” His professor greeted him kindly.

“Hi sir. Sorry about that I just have a quick question. That dinner you invited us out to…there was another person there who was not a student. Could I know their name?”

His professor chuckled, “Oh, sure. That was Park Jimin—he was a student of mine who now runs a private practice, pretty upscale clients apparently.”

Hanging up abruptly, Yoongi ran back out to the bar.

Yoongi didn’t like anything about it. But he had little time to ponder over it when suddenly you walked in, and he swore his heart stopped.

He couldn’t breathe.

Because it finally hit him. Had he told you everything he held inside? Had he made sure he savored every last second he had you? He couldn’t think. His mind went blank, red with rage—even moreso when Taehyung stood up in front of him and went to go see you.

He watched as he pulled you onto the dance floor—you hate dancing, Yoongi thought to himself. He watched as the man touched you, the lust in his eyes shamelessly evident.

He felt like throwing up. He prayed and prayed that you would stop. He wanted you to get away from him, he wanted you to be in his arms.

And his prayers were answered, as the ceremony was brought to a startling halt.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Kim Seokjin”

Yoongi’s eyes darted towards the small ensemble of law enforcement that pushed through the crowd towards you, led by a man in a dark coat. Handcuffs clicked around your wrists and you were being dragged out. Yoongi ran to the entrance before they could take you—reaching out with assurance

“Y/n—listen to me” Your eyes were void of emotion. Frozen with complete and utter shock at the news. “Don’t say anything without a lawyer okay? I will meet you at the station with bail money”

You nodded slowly, but Yoongi wasn’t convinced you had heard him.

You were gone. Arrested. Yoongi spun around to scan the crowd—it was a critical time after all. Where was Namjoon? Yoongi looked on, searching for the Kim heir who was nowhere to be seen. His eyes landed instead on Taehyung who stood in the middle of the dance floor, a small tug at the edge of his lips.

Playing with those goddamn dice.

-

Jungkook’s mind went blank when he saw you. Breath quite literally stolen from his lungs. Never in a million years would he admit just how pretty you looked tonight. The soft fabric of your engagement dress fell against your body just right. Your face glowed, glitter on your eyes. Diamond choker on your neck—simple and yet dazzling.

Your lips were his favorite. Plump and glossy pout on your bored face. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to taste you. He wanted to tear it all off and ruin you.

Jungkook wasn’t cruel. He didn’t intend on arresting you in front of everyone. But the vile jealousy that built in his chest when he saw the way your fiancée, Kim Taehyung, sweep you onto the dance floor—he couldn’t help it.

The burning sight of Taehyung’s hands on your waist, face a breath away from yours, lips so close to your neck. The way he looked at you—way you looked at him. You barely knew this man—how could you look at him like that?

He had to stop it. Fists clenching he decided to arrest you then and there. The way your face fell when you saw him was priceless. You seized up at his touch, the soft click of the cuffs around your wrists where your ringless fingers lay limp. Slow, shaky, tears budding in your eyes but never spilling.

Oh how he would love to see you cry.

The moment he had you outside, all hell broke loose. You were livid. Dragging your ankles into the ground like a little brat. Rolling his eyes, Jungkook decided it would be far easier to toss you over his shoulder rather than continue putting up with your antics.

“Put me down you fucking asshole, I didn’t do this!” You screamed, kicking your pointy heels into his back. “Where the fuck is Namjoon huh? Why aren’t you arresting him, if anyone had motive—”

Jungkook suppressed an urge to snap back at you. Setting you down harshly, he pinned you against the side of his car, forearm by your cheek.

He paused, looking deep into your eyes. The rise and fall of your chest calling him closer. You glared at him with such spite. Such disgust. The thought of planting his lips on yours crossed his mind. Put that all that pent up anger to good use.

“Fuck you Jeon Jungkook” You hissed, your hot breath against his cheek. “I’m gonna get you thrown off this fucking case you piece of shit”

“That’s enough” His fingers gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him, “Do you really think any other officer in there is going to take on a case to arrest Kim Namjoon for murder? This is my chance to finally tear that stupid family to pieces and I’m not letting a spoilt little cunt like you get in my way”

Jungkook hadn’t realized how loud his voice got by the end. You looked petrified, nodding slowly. His heart squeezed as he could see a tear forming at the corner of your eye.

He let you go. Shit. Your best friend had died. You likely were just hearing about it. Clearly in denial or putting on a brave face for him. For the crowds. Turning away, he opened the door.

“Just get in”

Huffing, you did as he said, slamming the door closed. Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine as he looked over at you again. A tear finally spilled from your eyes, causing Jungkook’s heart to jump. Dammit. Reaching nervously into his coat, he pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to you.

His fingers brushed against yours as you took it. Your skin was cold—instinctively he grabbed your hand. You flinched at his touch, pulling away but Jungkook grabbed it again, tightly, pulling it back towards him. His hold unwavering.

“I am sorry for your loss” Jungkook’s eyes softened with something bordering concern. Gulping he released your hand, diverting his gaze. A reluctant blush painting his cheeks.

Jungkook knew you weren’t his culprit. As much as he loathed you, he had no vested interest in your demise. You were collateral damage. Unfortunately for him, the Kim’s had police tucked deep in their silver lined pockets. He had to be careful. Someone was always watching.

Clearing his throat, he put the car in drive, pushing the temperature higher to help you warm up. Turning out of the parking lot, he figured he should try and get some information off record before everything you would say would literally get used against you.

“Where were you last night?”

You scoffed. “You’re not getting a fucking word out of me.”

God, he forgot what a pain in the ass you could be. Spoilt brat. “Y/n” Jungkook’s voice was stern. “I can make your life hell, or I can help you. And trust me, I’m not someone you want as an enemy”

You chuckled bitterly, “Yeah because otherwise you’d be fucking obsessed with me like you are with the Kim’s”

He slammed his hand against the wheel. “Answer the damn question, Y/n”

“Getting ready for my engagement—which you crashed, by the way”

Jungkook’s tongue rolled against his cheek. “You didn’t want to marry Kim Taehyung, did you?” He needed to know. Needed to be sure you didn’t actually care for that man.

You grinned. “Why, you jealous?”

He looked you dead in the eye. “Yes”

That shut you up. Jungkook bit back a smile as you processed his response. “Enough with the attitude. Who was making you do this—was it Jin?”

You groaned, tugging at your handcuffs in irritation. “No, it was Namjoon.”

Jungkook pursed his lips. That wasn’t true. He debated if he should tell you now or wait until you reached the precinct so you could see it with your own eyes. He had hard evidence that painted Namjoon even more so as the culprit.

Jin wanted you to marry Taehyung.

Namjoon didn’t.

⟶ One Day before the Murder ⟵

The scratch of a record. A soft echo of jazz filled the glass walls as Namjoon stood, staring out the window. The 52nd floor. Looking out at people scurrying in the dark, small as ants, truly meaningless. His employees thought he was given this office, unaware of the blood spilt for him to truly position himself as the inheritor of Kim Enterprises.

Namjoon was forged in the shadows of the charming, alluring Kim Seokjin. And Kim Seokjin was gold—magazines chased him, models threw themselves at him, colleges begged for him to attend. To the world, Jin was perfect. Which meant Namjoon had to ascend perfection.

So he did.

Jin would spend his nights partying while Namjoon would study hard. Seokjin would sleep around while Namjoon ran for miles. Seokjin would get lost in the limelight, drugs, alcohol, sex—Namjoon abstained. He was focused on one thing: he wanted his throne.

The 52nd floor was his right. The cage he had built for himself. Here he was untouchable.

Here he felt, absolutely broken. Alone. Moreso because he had spent the day preparing for your wedding. His heart ached inside his chest. He wanted to vomit. Each time he’d see your name on a wedding card or an article, he felt like he was getting brutally stabbed in the chest.

You probably didn’t know. Of course you didn’t—but Namjoon had grown truly fond of you lately. Jin had moved out at a young age, wanting to freely bring home sexual partners. You and Namjoon remained living at the Kim mansion for a few years now. The two of you had a banter—ever since the night he took advantage of you, he knew you no longer had feelings for him. He had seen the way you changed after that. While he was ridden with guilt, the hurt made you blossom into someone else entirely. You became confident, sexy, and never let a day go by that Namjoon didn’t regret treating you better.

He kept you at a distance because he needed to stay focused, but things were getting too real now. You were getting married.

You were leaving him.

And he only recently admitted to himself that he loved living with you. He loved the way you would bug him while he worked. Loved the way you would throw little tantrums when you couldn’t figure out what to wear, or after a shopping spree you would come home and try on everything for him, ignoring anything he would have to say. He would miss walking past your room to see you lying on your sheets, blanket on the floor, pillow tucked in your hold—sound asleep. He’d pick it up and cover you, admiring your face as he did.

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Like a punch in the gut, Namjoon let out a sharp breath. Turning, he faced his college friend, Jung Hoseok.

Namjoon hated being vulnerable. So Hoseok was a great friend to have—because he was hardly ever in town, being a self-made supermodel. He was low risk. Disposable.

“No” Namjoon grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Hoseok chuckled, seating himself on Namjoon’s desk chair. He was wearing a bright blue jumpsuit—hair a shocking silver white.

“I can’t tell you how many bets I have that you’d fall for her one day. Damn, I’m gonna be rich”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, “I didn’t fall for her. I don’t give a shit about her”

Hoseok scoffed, “Mhm, sure. What I don’t get is why this fucking wedding is happening. You’re the heir now can’t you call it off? Don’t marry the woman you love off to your brother, that’s just fucked up man”

There were many times he wanted to tell you the truth. But he had worked too hard to give up his dream for you. When his mother died, Jin had agreed to surrender his birth-right to the company on two conditions.

“In exchange for the company, one of the things I had to promise Jin was that this marriage would happen”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Really?” He rubbed his chin, “Interesting. What’s that about?”

Namjoon shrugged, turning back to the window. It was something he often wondered. If Jin cared about you so much—why would he force you to have an arranged marriage? To Taehyung, of all people. Taehyung who none of them had seen for over ten years. Taehyung whose whereabouts only Jin knew. And his mother, of course.

“I don’t know. But I agreed” And he knew you wouldn’t forgive him for that if you knew. He rolled his neck, denying the tears building in his eyes as he thought about you in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle next to him as he let you go. Forever.

He didn’t want your hand to leave his. He wanted to be on the other side. He wanted you to come towards him.

“What was the other condition?” Hoseok’s voice shattered his fantasy.

“He wanted to keep Nexus—Y/n’s mom’s company that my mother got in the will. I didn’t give a shit about it so.”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows, smirking slightly. “Nexus, huh” He mumbled under his breath. Licking his lips, he pulled out his phone. “Kim Seokjin—just what are you up to you little bastard?”

Namjoon pulled out a cigarette from his breast pocket, lighting it quietly. Taking a quick puff, he exhaled the smoke.

"I can't let her do this" His voice was hoarse. "I can't do this to her. She deserves to choose"

Hoseok rolled his eyes, standing up and walking besides Namjoon. Pulling the cigarette from his fingers, he grinned widely.

"I thought you’re the smart one, Namjoon. Jin's the problem. Get rid of him"

It wasn't as if the idea never crossed his mind. Namjoon hated Jin. Everything about Jin make him want to vomit, and yet, this was a line he couldn't cross.

Could he?

-

“All in”

Jin cursed inwardly. Your long fingernails traced along the edge of your cards, eyes flickering between your hand and the man in front of you. Dim casino lights accentuating the glitter on your lids, the pop of your lush lips which were grinning ever so slightly. You always looked gorgeous to him but tonight you were something else entirely.

His breath was heavy, palms sweating as he clenched his fists in desperation to keep it together. To keep his hands off. You blinked his way, innocently as if you were unaware of the teasingly low cut of your dress. The spill of your chest as you pushed your chips towards him.

As if that wasn’t enough. You laid your cards down right in front of him. Sliding them across the table. Pair of kings.

Jin didn’t even care. You would always win. And he loved that about you. It was as though you knew his thoughts before he even had them, always one step ahead, reading between the lines. You were a force to be reckoned with ever since Jin first took you to a backroom poker game years ago. With pride he’d observe your nonchalance—sending bratty chaebols running to their mother’s in tears after you swindled them out of their trust funds.

Seeing you at the table was something else. When you were in your element, your eyes would light up with a fierce blaze. With a slight of hand, you turned thousands into millions overnight. But you were never in it for the money.

You were in it for the kill. 

“Fuck this, come here” Tossing his own cards aside, he beckoned for you to come to him. He needed to touch you. He couldn’t hold back.

Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you into his lap. Your scent was intoxicating. Familiar, and yet addictive. He placed his lips softly against your neck. You giggled, pulling away but he wasn’t about to let that happen.

“When did you get so pretty?” His finger trailed up your neck, tilting your chin up. Things had been tense between the two of you. The soft touches, the lingering stares—he was flirting with you. He knew he was, but he wanted to. So badly he wanted to tease you, rile you up and watch you unfold. It had taken every ounce of his self-restraint not to touch you in the shower that morning—something which hadn’t left his mind since.

“I’ve always been pretty” Your response was cocky, as expected. “You’re usually too drunk to notice”

“That” He nipped at your jaw between each word, making you giggle in the process “Is not true”

He allowed his fingers to aimlessly brush against your thighs. He looked at you enticingly, nothing but mischief on his mind. He pinched the fabric of your dress between his fingers, wanting to tear the damn thing off. Your hand covered his, halting him in his tracks.

“Tell me you don’t like it and I’ll stop” He sighed into your skin, tongue licking under your jaw. Your sweet skin was addicting to taste, and it didn’t help that he could feel you trembling in his hold. You were confused, he knew you were. But he could see that you wanted him. He could feel it.

He hugged you closer—chest to chest, feeling the drum of your heart on his. He wanted to fuck you so bad it hurt. He was so sure he had never been attracted to you this way. Of course he loved you, there was never any question about it. But you had been like a sister to him your whole life. Lately he found himself wanting you in a way he shouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Because you were getting engaged to his younger brother. And he had known that all along.

“Jin,” Your voice was barely a whisper, “Why?” It was a valid question. One he was not ready to answer. His advances had hardly been subtle.

“You said I wasn’t giving you enough attention. So here we are. Just me…” His finger trailed up your thigh, “you” From the table, he pulled out a single card, twisted between two fingers which he slid down the side of your face before pulling it away so sharply, a drop of blood trickled from your cheek.

“And a deck of cards” He leaned in, lips brushing against the tiny cut in a soft peck. 

“Stop fucking around Jin” Standing up from his lap, you looked him dead in the eye. “I’m getting married to Taehyung. Your brother, who you love.”

Jin tilted his head in irritation. He absolutely hated being told no, it wasn’t something he typically had to deal with. Frustration boiled in his veins, the confusion so overwhelming it made his head spin.

The reality that he was falling for you. Hard.

He gulped, staring at you. Eyes softening as silence filled the air. He felt choked, throat gripping in anticipation of what he should say next—if he would actually say what he knew you both were feeling out loud.

There was a knock on the door. Instinctively, Jin grabbed your wrist, holding it firmly.

“Mr. Kim, you have a phone call”

The door opened, allowing one of Jin’s guards to walk in and hand him his cell. You motioned to excuse yourself, mouthing the word 'bathroom'.

Jin nodded, pressing the cell to his ear. 

“Mr. Kim,”

The distorted voice through the phone gave him chills. His heart pounded through his head, veins pulsing with anger.

“Did you forget about me?”

He glanced at his guard—whose eyes were questioning him with worry. He tensed his shoulders before nodding at his guards softly, indicating for them to act accordingly.

“You’re making this too easy Kim. Shouldn’t leave your most prized possession unattended. I could just snap her pretty neck”

Jin could only hear his own racing pulse. Anxiety gripping his chest with desperation—you couldn’t be in danger. He had no idea the chaos that would ensue if there was even a scratch on your body under his watch.

“Then again, I’d much rather snap yours”

Jin lunged forward, a mere millisecond before a bullet shot through, piercing his guard in the gut. The man fell over, not before two more guards arrived in a panic. Blood began to pool on the dark red carpet. It was almost despicable how the color matched.

Jin felt dizzy, his body acting purely on instinct where his mind simply couldn’t catch up. He could feel a heaviness in his throat, but now was not the time. Where were you—you went to the bathroom—he had to get you out of here— and so he ran. Faster than he ever had. Mind empty except for the need to keep you safe.

Slipping quickly through the hall, Jin rushed over to the bathroom, locked from the inside. He pounded against the door, a sweat breaking across his forehead. What if—no. Don’t think like that.

He shuddered, imagining the worst. Throwing himself at the door, he screamed out in frustration.

“Y/n!” He never used your name. Not unless it was serious. “It’s me, we need to go, now” He paused, catching his breath as he heard the lock click from the inside. The door swung open and there you were, a disoriented look on your face.  

“What’s going on—” Without so much as a second thought, Jin grabbed your wrist, pulling you through a back exit—ignoring the blaring fire alarms that went off as he kicked the door open. His guards pulled a car around.

Settling in the back seat with you glued to his side, he barked at his guards “Safehouse, now”

He was trembling. Not even realizing how tightly he was still holding your hand. So lost that he didn’t hear you calling his name frantically—“Jin what the fuck is going on?”

A shaky exhale left his lips at your words. Almost out of sheer desperation he turned, pulling you into his lap where he cupped your face. You were so close. Close enough that he could almost taste the sweat on your neck. You held him, allowing his hands to roam your body in assurance that you were alive. That you were okay.

He tried not to entertain the thought. To appreciate that you had survived, but his mind couldn’t help but wander as he gazed into your sweet eyes—what the fuck would he have done if something had happened to you?

His eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips. He gulped. He needed you. Tempted to slam his lips onto yours, but instead just breathing you in, letting his eyelashes brush against your face. Holding you in a tight embrace. Tears rolling down his face.

It was as though in that moment, everything became so clear. For a moment he swore that nothing made more sense than you in his arms. You consumed him. You were a fever, he woke up burning, went asleep in sweats—he craved you, like a man on the brink of insanity. If this was love, he wanted to drown in it. He couldn’t breathe—not if you weren’t besides him. You were beautiful, flawed, and simply everything he ever wanted.

“I can’t—”

He choked on a sob, looking at you again. There was more said in those two simple words. Everything he needed to communicate, and he knew you would understand “Princess, I can’t”

The tears fell harder. His walls came crashing down, all he had held back seemed to overflow. The fear of losing you triggering so many pent up emotions that he couldn’t take it. His body trembled.

“Fuck” He cried out in frustration, almost tasting your lips against his own. Fingers tightly intertwined in your hair. He didn’t have it in him anymore. He couldn’t hold back.

Except he had to.

“Jin,” Your tone shifted. He understood it—it was pleading. Your eyes were wide with confusion, with want. Your lips—your sweet lips, he could only image how amazing they would feel. The world would fade away in an instant and he would be lost in your touch. He would kiss you everywhere. All night long. He would never let go.

His breath was shaky, cutting his desire to cry harder. Letting his eyes fall shut, he pushed you off of him, turning his back towards you. He could hear you scoff and swore his heart shattered. He didn’t want to hurt you. He was equally perplexed at how quickly his love for you and surfaced within the past few days. It had been there all along, but now that you were forbidden, it came pouring out of his every move.

He shook his head. There was no point in starting something that couldn’t be finished. If he were honest with you, you would end up getting hurt in the worst way possible. If you knew all the lies he had told you, all the secrets he kept. All the ways in which he used you as a puppet for his own gain. Jin wasn’t proud of who he was. And surely, you deserved better.

“I’m sorry” The words hung heavy in the thick, disappointing silence. The tension throbbing in his veins as the drive continued on in the dark night.

The second the car pulled into the safehouse, you pushed yourself off of him—jumping out of the car. Jin followed as you began to run—grabbing your wrist before you could.

“Let go of me” You hissed, tugging at his grip.

“No” With a jerk of his arm he pulled you towards him.

Cricked chirped in the dead of the night—there was no living soul for miles. The stars shone brightly through the chilly wind and there you were.

Kissing him.

-

⟶ Years before the murder ⟵

“Tell me about the dice”

Back & forth. The steady creaking of the bed as the patient sat, curled up into himself. Across the room Jimin sat, waiting, observing. The patient was staring into the palm of his hand. Two red die, rolling around in his palm.

He had been at it for a while, not uttering a single word. But Jimin was trained for this. He was nothing if not patient. He could dig at his patient for hours until he would get them to bend to his will. Persistence, determination, delayed gratification, these things came to him easily.

Jimin cleared his throat, “Nurses are telling me you throw a fit when they try to take those away from you. It must bring you a lot of comfort”

The patient continued to ignore him.

“I understand you are very fond of playing cards” Jimin flipped through his files. “Want to tell me about that? Do you like gambling?”

The patient stilled his wrist, closing his long fingers over the dice. “She gave them to me”

Jimin raised his eyebrows. Finally. He was breaking through to him. He was so close to getting what he needed he was practically salivating. So close to getting all the information he needed.

He set his notebook aside, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked at his patient with sincerity. He was careful with the way he spoke, never wanting his patients to feel patronized, judged or scrutinized. He needed his patients to trust him. To confide in him without holding anything back.

“Why don’t you tell me about her, Taehyung?”

⟵|| previous || next ||⟶

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

thanks for reading you cutie <3 have a great day!

yes of course!!!

placebo (m) masterlist

pairing: jimin x f-reader, namjoon x f-reader (ft. ot7)

characters: stem-student!reader, biker-gang-vigilante!jimin, phd!namjoon

genre: 18+ romance, smut, soulmate!au, vigiliante/gang!au, dystopian, strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort

summary: you're assigned a soulmate backed by science of compatibility that hopes to promote healthier, long-lasting, loving relationships. your soulmate, park jimin, doesn't seem like your type at all. he's rebellious, rugged, and unlike you, loves to break rules. belief in the system, in the science, makes you try to make things work with him

as luck would have it, you begin to fall in love. until one day, you accidentally come across evidence that your soulmate assignment was a placebo. a control arm of an experiment that wanted to see if the science was actually accurate or if simply thinking someone was your soulmate was enough to promote better relationships. except now, you're convinced that your feelings are real.

will you still love him now that you know the science is wrong? or would chance have it that you did find your soulmate after all?

to find answers, you seek out the scientist behind the experiment, the mysterious and infamous dr. kim namjoon. and everything you thought you believed about love gets challenged when you run your true compatibility experiment and he turns out to be perfect for you...

► part 0 - release date TBD

► part 1 - release date TBD

► part 2 - release date TBD

a/n: posting this now so it's there! im super excited to write a ROMANCE for once lmao. but dw, yes, there will be steamy smut ;) (i mean, jimin is a BIKER and dr namjoon you already KNOW ok). this will be a limited series - so not super long or anything <3 feel free to ask any questions!

|| ask box || full masterlist || wanna join the taglist? reply or send an ask!

hi anyone wanna beta read nexus p2 because ya girl needs help <3

Somehow I haven't been following you??? I dunno how but I remedied it babe-- your writing is sooo goood!!! Definitely loving your blog ❤️

Cute gif for happy chemicals ❤️

AW thank you babe <3 i appreciate all my readers & followers very much :))) i hope i can continue to entertain ;)

wait who was on the motorcycle who saves yn when she jumps out of the car in dv? who did she call?

taehyung :)

taglist cont: @douknowbts @hass-mich-los @sugaslittlekookies @zae007live @seokjins-best-friend @ot7nem @rkivesbby @kissme-ornot @bear-hugs-and-kisses @tastelikevanilla @kookstj

nexus (m) part 3

pairing: ot7 x freader smut: yoongi x reader chp-focus: jjk, ksj, myg

premise: the kim family, a notorious casino conglomerate, took you in when you were young. you practically grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest

summary: accused of murdering your best friend, you team up with a vengeful detective in an effort to uncover the secrets of the family you swore your loyalty

characters: detective!jungkook, bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model!hoseok, therapist!jimin

genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au

wordcount: 7k

warnings: explicit smut, rough sex, todays theme is JEALOUSY, manipulated consent (emotional blackmail), teasing, manhandling, fingering, dirty talk, breast play, crying, penetrative sex, rough oral (m), power plays, a very sexually charged card game and limo ride, a whole lot of SEXUAL TENSION, jin is a FLIRT, suggested dacryphilia, toxic relationships (jin sir pls u good), petnames--princess, mourning/angst, jungkook is hot and COLD (tsundere), obsessive themes, blackmail, guns, character death (nonrelevant), alcohol, gambling, fear, mention of psychiatric treatment

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind @toughbook @mini-euphoria @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

Stunning.

Fucking stunning.

Jungkook’s mind went blank when he saw you. Breath quite literally stolen from his lungs. Never in a million years would he admit just how pretty you looked tonight. The soft fabric of your engagement dress fell against your body just right. Your face glowed, glitter on your eyes. Diamond choker on your neck—simple and yet dazzling.

Your lips were his favorite. Plump and glossy pout on your bored face. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to taste you. He wanted to tear it all off and ruin you.

Jungkook wasn’t cruel. He didn’t intend on arresting you in front of everyone. But the vile jealousy that built in his chest when he saw the way your fiancée, Kim Taehyung, sweep you onto the dance floor—he couldn’t help it.

The burning sight of Taehyung’s hands on your waist, face a breath away from yours, lips so close to your neck. The way he looked at you—way you looked at him. You barely knew this man—how could you look at him like that?

He had to stop it. Fists clenching he decided to arrest you then and there. The way your face fell when you saw him was priceless. You seized up at his touch, the soft click of the cuffs around your wrists where your ringless fingers lay limp. Slow, shaky, tears budding in your eyes but never spilling.

Oh how he would love to see you cry.

The moment he had you outside, all hell broke loose. You were livid. Dragging your ankles into the ground like a little brat. Rolling his eyes, Jungkook decided it would be far easier to toss you over his shoulder rather than continue putting up with your antics.

“Put me down you fucking asshole, I didn’t do this!” You screamed, kicking your pointy heels into his back. “Where the fuck is Namjoon huh? Why aren’t you arresting him, if anyone had motive—”

Jungkook suppressed an urge to snap back at you. Setting you down harshly, he pinned you against the side of his car, forearm by your cheek.

He paused, looking deep into your eyes. The rise and fall of your chest calling him closer. You glared at him with such spite. Such disgust. The thought of planting his lips on yours crossed his mind. Put that all that pent up anger to good use.

“Fuck you Jeon Jungkook” You hissed, your hot breath against his cheek. “I’m gonna get you thrown off this fucking case you piece of shit”

“That’s enough” His fingers gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him, “Do you really think any other officer in there is going to take on a case to arrest Kim Namjoon for murder? This is my chance to finally tear that stupid family to pieces and I’m not letting a spoilt little cunt like you get in my way”

Jungkook hadn’t realized how loud his voice got by the end. You looked petrified, nodding slowly. His heart squeezed as he could see a tear forming at the corner of your eye.

He let you go. Shit. Your best friend had died. You likely were just hearing about it. Clearly in denial or putting on a brave face for him. For the crowds. Turning away, he opened the door.

“Just get in”

Huffing, you did as he said, slamming the door closed. Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine as he looked over at you again. A tear finally spilled from your eyes, causing Jungkook’s heart to jump. Dammit. Reaching nervously into his coat, he pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to you.

His fingers brushed against yours as you took it. Your skin was cold—instinctively he grabbed your hand. You flinched at his touch, pulling away but Jungkook grabbed it again, tightly, pulling it back towards him. His hold unwavering.

“I am sorry for your loss” Jungkook’s eyes softened with something bordering concern. Gulping he released your hand, diverting his gaze. A reluctant blush painting his cheeks.

Jungkook knew you weren’t his culprit. As much as he loathed you, he had no vested interest in your demise. You were collateral damage. Unfortunately for him, the Kim’s had police tucked deep in their silver lined pockets. He had to be careful. Someone was always watching.

Clearing his throat, he put the car in drive, pushing the temperature higher to help you warm up. Turning out of the parking lot, he figured he should try and get some information off record before everything you would say would literally get used against you.

“Where were you last night?”

You scoffed. “You’re not getting a fucking word out of me.”

God, he forgot what a pain in the ass you could be. Spoilt brat. “Y/n” Jungkook’s voice was stern. “I can make your life hell, or I can help you. And trust me, I’m not someone you want as an enemy”

You chuckled bitterly, “Yeah because otherwise you’d be fucking obsessed with me like you are with the Kim’s”

He slammed his hand against the wheel. “Answer the damn question, Y/n”

“I was with Yoongi. Getting ready for my engagement—which you crashed, by the way”

Jungkook’s tongue rolled against his cheek. “You didn’t want to marry Kim Taehyung, did you?” He needed to know. Needed to be sure you didn’t actually care for that man.

You grinned. “Why, you jealous?”

He looked you dead in the eye. “Yes”

That shut you up. Jungkook bit back a smile as you processed his response. “Enough with the attitude. Who was making you do this—was it Jin?”

You groaned, tugging at your handcuffs in irritation. “No, it was Namjoon.”

Jungkook pursed his lips. That wasn’t true. He debated if he should tell you now or wait until you reached the precinct so you could see it with your own eyes. He had hard evidence that painted Namjoon even more so as the culprit.

Jin wanted you to marry Taehyung.

Namjoon didn’t.

⟶ One Day before the Murder ⟵

The scratch of a record. A soft echo of jazz filled the glass walls as Namjoon stood, staring out the window. The 52nd floor. Looking out at people scurrying in the dark, small as ants, truly meaningless. His employees thought he was given this office, unaware of the blood spilt for him to truly position himself as the inheritor of Kim Enterprises.

Namjoon was forged in the shadows of the charming, alluring Kim Seokjin. And Kim Seokjin was gold—magazines chased him, models threw themselves at him, colleges begged for him to attend. To the world, Jin was perfect. Which meant Namjoon had to ascend perfection.

So he did.

Jin would spend his nights partying while Namjoon would study hard. Seokjin would sleep around while Namjoon ran for miles. Seokjin would get lost in the limelight, drugs, alcohol, sex—Namjoon abstained. He was focused on one thing: he wanted his throne.

The 52nd floor was his right. The cage he had built for himself. Here he was untouchable.

Here he felt, absolutely broken. Alone. Moreso because he had spent the day preparing for your wedding. His heart ached inside his chest. He wanted to vomit. Each time he’d see your name on a wedding card or an article, he felt like he was getting brutally stabbed in the chest.

You probably didn’t know. Of course you didn’t—but Namjoon had grown truly fond of you lately. Jin had moved out at a young age, wanting to freely bring home sexual partners. You and Namjoon remained living at the Kim mansion for a few years now. The two of you had a banter—ever since the night he took advantage of you, he knew you no longer had feelings for him. He had seen the way you changed after that. While he was ridden with guilt, the hurt made you blossom into someone else entirely. You became confident, sexy, and never let a day go by that Namjoon didn’t regret treating you better.

He kept you at a distance because he needed to stay focused, but things were getting too real now. You were getting married.

You were leaving him.

And he only recently admitted to himself that he loved living with you. He loved the way you would bug him while he worked. Loved the way you would throw little tantrums when you couldn’t figure out what to wear, or after a shopping spree you would come home and try on everything for him, ignoring anything he would have to say. He would miss walking past your room to see you lying on your sheets, blanket on the floor, pillow tucked in your hold—sound asleep. He’d pick it up and cover you, admiring your face as he did.

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Like a punch in the gut, Namjoon let out a sharp breath. Turning, he faced his college friend, Jung Hoseok.

Namjoon hated being vulnerable. So Hoseok was a great friend to have—because he was hardly ever in town, being a self-made supermodel. He was low risk. Disposable.

“No” Namjoon grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Hoseok chuckled, seating himself on Namjoon’s desk chair. He was wearing a bright blue jumpsuit—hair a shocking silver white.

“I can’t tell you how many bets I have that you’d fall for her one day. Damn, I’m gonna be rich”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, “I didn’t fall for her. I don’t give a shit about her”

Hoseok scoffed, “Mhm, sure. What I don’t get is why this fucking wedding is happening. You’re the heir now can’t you call it off? Don’t marry the woman you love off to your brother, that’s just fucked up man”

There were many times he wanted to tell you the truth. But he had worked too hard to give up his dream for you. When his mother died, Jin had agreed to surrender his birth-right to the company on two conditions.

“In exchange for the company, one of the things I had to promise Jin was that this marriage would happen”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Really?” He rubbed his chin, “Interesting. What’s that about?”

Namjoon shrugged, turning back to the window. It was something he often wondered. If Jin cared about you so much—why would he force you to have an arranged marriage? To Taehyung, of all people. Taehyung who none of them had seen for over ten years. Taehyung whose whereabouts only Jin knew. And his mother, of course.

“I don’t know. But I agreed” And he knew you wouldn’t forgive him for that if you knew. He rolled his neck, denying the tears building in his eyes as he thought about you in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle next to him as he let you go. Forever.

He didn’t want your hand to leave his. He wanted to be on the other side. He wanted you to come towards him.

“What was the other condition?” Hoseok’s voice shattered his fantasy.

“He wanted to keep Nexus—Y/n’s mom’s company that my mother got in the will. I didn’t give a shit about it so.”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows, smirking slightly. “Nexus, huh” He mumbled under his breath. Licking his lips, he pulled out his phone. “Kim Seokjin—just what are you up to you little bastard?”

Namjoon pulled out a cigarette from his breast pocket, lighting it quietly. Taking a quick puff, he exhaled the smoke.

"I can't let her do this" His voice was hoarse. "I can't do this to her. She deserves to choose"

Hoseok rolled his eyes, standing up and walking besides Namjoon. Pulling the cigarette from his fingers, he grinned widely.

"I thought you’re the smart one, Namjoon. Jin's the problem. Get rid of him"

It wasn't as if the idea never crossed his mind. Namjoon hated Jin. Everything about Jin make him want to vomit, and yet, this was a line he couldn't cross.

Could he?

-

“All in”

Jin cursed inwardly. Your long fingernails traced along the edge of your cards, eyes flickering between your hand and the man in front of you. Dim casino lights accentuating the glitter on your lids, the pop of your lush lips which were grinning ever so slightly. You always looked gorgeous to him but tonight you were something else entirely.

His breath was heavy, palms sweating as he clenched his fists in desperation to keep it together. To keep his hands off. You blinked his way, innocently as if you were unaware of the teasingly low cut of your dress. The spill of your chest as you pushed your chips towards him.

As if that wasn’t enough. You laid your cards down right in front of him. Sliding them across the table. Pair of kings.

Jin didn’t even care. You would always win. And he loved that about you. It was as though you knew his thoughts before he even had them, always one step ahead, reading between the lines. You were a force to be reckoned with ever since Jin first took you to a backroom poker game years ago. With pride he’d observe your nonchalance—sending bratty chaebols running to their mother’s in tears after you swindled them out of their trust funds.

Seeing you at the table was something else. When you were in your element, your eyes would light up with a fierce blaze. With a slight of hand, you turned thousands into millions overnight. But you were never in it for the money.

You were in it for the kill. 

“Fuck this, come here” Tossing his own cards aside, he beckoned for you to come to him. He needed to touch you. He couldn’t hold back.

Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you into his lap. Your scent was intoxicating. Familiar, and yet addictive. He placed his lips softly against your neck. You giggled, pulling away but he wasn’t about to let that happen.

“When did you get so pretty?” His finger trailed up your neck, tilting your chin up. Things had been tense between the two of you. The soft touches, the lingering stares—he was flirting with you. He knew he was, but he wanted to. So badly he wanted to tease you, rile you up and watch you unfold. It had taken every ounce of his self-restraint not to touch you in the shower that morning—something which hadn’t left his mind since.

“I’ve always been pretty” Your response was cocky, as expected. “You’re usually too drunk to notice”

“That” He nipped at your jaw between each word, making you giggle in the process “Is not true”

He allowed his fingers to aimlessly brush against your thighs. He looked at you enticingly, nothing but mischief on his mind. He pinched the fabric of your dress between his fingers, wanting to tear the damn thing off. Your hand covered his, halting him in his tracks.

“Tell me you don’t like it and I’ll stop” He sighed into your skin, tongue licking under your jaw. Your sweet skin was addicting to taste, and it didn’t help that he could feel you trembling in his hold. You were confused, he knew you were. But he could see that you wanted him. He could feel it.

He hugged you closer—chest to chest, feeling the drum of your heart on his. He wanted to fuck you so bad it hurt. He was so sure he had never been attracted to you this way. Of course he loved you, there was never any question about it. But you had been like a sister to him your whole life. Lately he found himself wanting you in a way he shouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Because you were getting engaged to his younger brother. And he had known that all along.

“Jin,” Your voice was barely a whisper, “Why?” It was a valid question. One he was not ready to answer. His advances had hardly been subtle.

“You said I wasn’t giving you enough attention. So here we are. Just me…” His finger trailed up your thigh, “you” From the table, he pulled out a single card, twisted between two fingers which he slid down the side of your face before pulling it away so sharply, a drop of blood trickled from your cheek.

“And a deck of cards” He leaned in, lips brushing against the tiny cut in a soft peck. 

“Stop fucking around Jin” Standing up from his lap, you looked him dead in the eye. “I’m getting married to Taehyung. Your brother, who you love.”

Jin tilted his head in irritation. He absolutely hated being told no, it wasn’t something he typically had to deal with. Frustration boiled in his veins, the confusion so overwhelming it made his head spin.

The reality that he was falling for you. Hard.

He gulped, staring at you. Eyes softening as silence filled the air. He felt choked, throat gripping in anticipation of what he should say next—if he would actually say what he knew you both were feeling out loud.

There was a knock on the door. Instinctively, Jin grabbed your wrist, holding it firmly.

“Mr. Kim, you have a phone call”

The door opened, allowing one of Jin’s guards to walk in and hand him his cell. You motioned to excuse yourself, mouthing the word 'bathroom'.

Jin nodded, pressing the cell to his ear. 

“Mr. Kim,”

The distorted voice through the phone gave him chills. His heart pounded through his head, veins pulsing with anger.

“Did you forget about me?”

He glanced at his guard—whose eyes were questioning him with worry. He tensed his shoulders before nodding at his guards softly, indicating for them to act accordingly.

“You’re making this too easy Kim. Shouldn’t leave your most prized possession unattended. I could just snap her pretty neck”

Jin could only hear his own racing pulse. Anxiety gripping his chest with desperation—you couldn’t be in danger. He had no idea the chaos that would ensue if there was even a scratch on your body under his watch.

“Then again, I’d much rather snap yours”

Jin lunged forward, a mere millisecond before a bullet shot through, piercing his guard in the gut. The man fell over, not before two more guards arrived in a panic. Blood began to pool on the dark red carpet. It was almost despicable how the color matched.

Jin felt dizzy, his body acting purely on instinct where his mind simply couldn’t catch up. He could feel a heaviness in his throat, but now was not the time. Where were you—you went to the bathroom—he had to get you out of here— and so he ran. Faster than he ever had. Mind empty except for the need to keep you safe.

Slipping quickly through the hall, Jin rushed over to the bathroom, locked from the inside. He pounded against the door, a sweat breaking across his forehead. What if—no. Don’t think like that.

He shuddered, imagining the worst. Throwing himself at the door, he screamed out in frustration.

“Y/n!” He never used your name. Not unless it was serious. “It’s me, we need to go, now” He paused, catching his breath as he heard the lock click from the inside. The door swung open and there you were, a disoriented look on your face.  

“What’s going on—” Without so much as a second thought, Jin grabbed your wrist, pulling you through a back exit—ignoring the blaring fire alarms that went off as he kicked the door open. His guards pulled a car around.

Settling in the back seat with you glued to his side, he barked at his guards “Safehouse, now”

He was trembling. Not even realizing how tightly he was still holding your hand. So lost that he didn’t hear you calling his name frantically—“Jin what the fuck is going on?”

A shaky exhale left his lips at your words. Almost out of sheer desperation he turned, pulling you into his lap where he cupped your face. You were so close. Close enough that he could almost taste the sweat on your neck. You held him, allowing his hands to roam your body in assurance that you were alive. That you were okay.

He tried not to entertain the thought. To appreciate that you had survived, but his mind couldn’t help but wander as he gazed into your sweet eyes—what the fuck would he have done if something had happened to you?

His eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips. He gulped. He needed you. Tempted to slam his lips onto yours, but instead just breathing you in, letting his eyelashes brush against your face. Holding you in a tight embrace. Tears rolling down his face.

It was as though in that moment, everything became so clear. For a moment he swore that nothing made more sense than you in his arms. You consumed him. You were a fever, he woke up burning, went asleep in sweats—he craved you, like a man on the brink of insanity. If this was love, he wanted to drown in it. He couldn’t breathe—not if you weren’t besides him. You were beautiful, flawed, and simply everything he ever wanted.

“I can’t—”

He choked on a sob, looking at you again. There was more said in those two simple words. Everything he needed to communicate, and he knew you would understand “Princess, I can’t”

The tears fell harder. His walls came crashing down, all he had held back seemed to overflow. The fear of losing you triggering so many pent up emotions that he couldn’t take it. His body trembled.

“Fuck” He cried out in frustration, almost tasting your lips against his own. Fingers tightly intertwined in your hair. He didn’t have it in him anymore. He couldn’t hold back.

Except he had to.

“Jin,” Your tone shifted. He understood it—it was pleading. Your eyes were wide with confusion, with want. Your lips—your sweet lips, he could only image how amazing they would feel. The world would fade away in an instant and he would be lost in your touch. He would kiss you everywhere. All night long. He would never let go.

His breath was shaky, cutting his desire to cry harder. Letting his eyes fall shut, he pushed you off of him, turning his back towards you. He could hear you scoff and swore his heart shattered. He didn’t want to hurt you. He was equally perplexed at how quickly his love for you and surfaced within the past few days. It had been there all along, but now that you were forbidden, it came pouring out of his every move.

He shook his head. There was no point in starting something that couldn’t be finished. If he were honest with you, you would end up getting hurt in the worst way possible. If you knew all the lies he had told you, all the secrets he kept. All the ways in which he used you as a puppet for his own gain. Jin wasn’t proud of who he was. And surely, you deserved better.

“I’m sorry” The words hung heavy in the thick, disappointing silence. The tension throbbing in his veins as the drive continued on in the dark night.

The second the car pulled into the safehouse, you pushed yourself off of him—jumping out of the car. Jin followed as you began to run—grabbing your wrist before you could.

“Let go of me” You hissed, tugging at his grip.

“No” With a jerk of his arm he pulled you towards him.

Cricked chirped in the dead of the night—there was no living soul for miles. The stars shone brightly through the chilly wind and there you were.

Kissing him.

-

Yoongi didn’t believe in love.

At night the casino would be filled with laughter. Chips being tossed with an easy flick of the wrist. Thousands turned to millions. Black suits and skimpy dresses. Champagne everywhere.

The clock would move slowly, time stretching as Yoongi would toss bottle, flip them over, pour a drink and put on his show. Hundred-dollar bills stuffed deep into his pockets. A few room keys. Until morning creeped on the horizon.

It was then he’d pull out his thick, greasy textbook. After the crowd cleared out he’d slide on his glasses, reading up for his exam the next day. And you—you would stay too. He could see you more clearly then—see under the thick makeup, glittery eyes and glossy lips. See into your eyes that were shielding a deep sadness. The haze of inebriation wiped clean.

It started as friendship. Innocent enough. You had no one else—amongst your rich friends and socialite status, at the end of the day you would crawl back to the bar. To him.

You intrigued him. Your stories so bizarre, so unbelievable—he willingly submitted into your fantasy. He wondered when you would submit to his.

He wasn’t allowed to touch you. It was an unspoken rule. The Kim brothers owned you—Kim Seokjin owned you, whether you were aware or not—and you evidently weren’t. You arrived to the bar one night—he remembers so clearly the budding tears in your eyes.

Was it wrong to take advantage of you? Yoongi didn’t think so. You were using him just as much as he wanted to use you. You’d waste his time with your whining, complaining about the most mundane things. You were bored and he was the only control you had of your life. A pretty princess trapped in the tower. All she had to do was jump.

So he pushed you.

Day by day. Little by little he dug deeper into your morale. He latched you onto him—gave you the validation you so desperately sought. The attention. He was your drug—your means of survival.

“If I wanted to run away” You whispered to him one night, behind the bar as he sweetly showed you how to make a martini. Your fingers hooked onto the loops of his jeans, tugging him towards you. Your tender lips, and pleading eyes. Irresistible. “Would you come with me?”

His response was a breathless—yes. Met in seconds with a kiss so incredibly hot that he could feel the burn even years later. His palms immediately cupping your cheeks, lips pressed tight against yours, unwavering. You made him dizzy. Made him nauseous. You were sickening, addictive and he craved you insatiably. 

Deeping the kiss as he tilted your head back more. Eyes shut—lost in the feeling. Everything vanished. There was only him. Only you. And the cameras where he knew Kim Seokjin would be watching like the sadist he was.

He pulled you in closer—lifting you into his arms. Soft moans escaping but neither of you separated for long. He didn’t want to part. Didn’t want to breathe. He wanted to be consumed by the crippling mess you were. Lips sliding across your jaw—peppering hot kisses down your neck. Your fingers weaving through his hair, guiding him. He gripped your hips gently, knee slotting between your legs.

“We shouldn’t” You exhaled quietly, breath uneven, shaky. “You’ll get in trouble”

Yoongi’s teeth grazed over your ear as he grunted in irritation. Fingers intertwining with yours he finally backed away, meeting your eyes.

He swallowed thickly, “You wanted this” He was annoyed. He had held it together so long—only for you to finally give him a taste. There was no stopping him now. Exasperated, he cupped your face again, thumb tracing your bottom lip fondly.

“I do. I want you, Yoongi” You grabbed his wrist, begging him with your eyes. Your voice was quiet. So quiet he could feel your words without hearing them. Lust burned in his gaze—eyes darkening. You began clawing at his shirt, popping the buttons off one by one.

Yoongi hissed, tugging at your lip warningly. Blinking at you for a second, he seemed to weigh his options. “The things you make me do, I swear” He lifted you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around him.

Your back slammed against the wall. Bottles rattling, glasses shattering. His hands hovered over your shoulders, fingers hooked under the straps of your dress. Swiftly he pulled them off, allowing your dress to fall into a puddle on the floor, his shirt following.

Fascinated, you traced his muscles. Yoongi simply chuckled, pushing two fingers down your throat.

“You want him to see this, don’t you?”

Yoongi pulled his fingers out, smirking slightly at the way your eyes quivered. He slid his hand down your body, under your panties so he could paint your quivering cunt with his wet fingers. He watched you carefully as he drew small, tight circles on your clit. His other hand on your neck, thumb tilting your chin up to face him.

His lips swallowed you in as his fingers moved faster, “You want those Kim boys to see what a dirty little whore you really are, don’t you?” He dipped his fingers into your cunt, allowing his palm to flatten as you unconsciously grinded your hips against it. Curling his finger, he pumped in and out of you—your eyes rolling back. His lips going down your chest, dragging your bra down with his teeth till he could round his lips over your tender nipples.

A loud moan left your lips, causing him to hiss. Pulling his finger out he turned you around, pushing your chest against the wall before gripping your panties and tearing them in two. It burned against your skin, a dizzying sensation in your head as you heard the fabric rip. Immediately he pumped two fingers back inside, teeth grazing over your shoulders. His belt unlatched, you felt his hard cock slap against your ass. He pushed you down, bending you over with a hand tight  on your neck, holding you steady.

You whimpered as his thick head pushed in. The burn was familiar—and Yoongi could feel how tight you were. He was surprised—he truly believed you slept around, but clearly you hadn’t been fucked in a while.

“Wait” You screamed. Yoongi backed away immediately, noticing tears streaming down your face.

Concerned, he held you softly, hugging you to his chest. “Hey,” He kissed your forehead, “What happened?”

You were shivering. Shaking your head as you tried to blink away the pain in your eyes. “Sorry I just—I had a bad experience” and you told him. You told him how Kim Namjoon tricked you—gullible little you into giving up your virginity.

Yoongi’s fists clenched. When it came to those boys, you were so stupid, it made him physically angry. You let these boys walk all over you and never did a thing about it. Yoongi had only ever wanted you for the chase, but suddenly he was overcome with a bitterness. You didn’t deserve this. You deserved more.

“I would never do that to you. I would never lie”

You were satisfied with his answer, but Yoongi was determined to prove it. He lifted you onto his cock, chest pressed up tight against yours—looking nowhere except deep into your eyes.

“Just keep your eyes on me, we’ll go nice and slow”

You sank down so perfectly. Your tight walls hot against his pulsing length. Your legs wrapped around his waist so tight he could barely move. It was emotional, the way you held onto him as he rolled his hips, pulsing into you. Staggered breaths. Sweat on his forehead.

Harder. His hips jerked at the sound of your pussy, dripping out with his every move. Your eyes blasted with lust—lips parted, so incredibly fucked out with pleasure it had him salivating. Pretty little moans as he fucked into you.

Tight. Fast. Lost in your sensation. Eyes rolling to the back of his head.

His lips nipped at your jaw, tasting the sweat glazed over your skin.

“Where can I come?” His voice was hoarse. Low and broken with need. You stilled yourself, sliding off of his throbbing cock until you found your feet and stood. Within seconds you slid to your knees, mouth wide open—eager to please.

He swore you had never looked more beautiful.

He admired your face. Lips swollen, pressing his flushed tip between them, eyes wide with a false innocence. Swiping the drool away from the edge of your lips. You let your tongue wrap around his length, cautiously, exploring across his veins, watching his reactions as you tightened your cheeks around him.

Yoongi’s eyes rolled back, hissing as you began to bob your head up and down. Sloppy, saliva dripping everywhere, the obscene sounds exemplified by you taking him throat-deep, gagging all over. He chanted like a mantra, “Just like that…fuck…just like that”

Both hands on his base, you worked him vigorously, enjoying his throaty moans echoing throughout the room. He bucked his hips, tugging at your jaw as he pushed further down your throat. “Always so good to me”

His hand moved to your forehead, his grip on your head leading you along his shaft, urging you to go faster. He thrusted his hips forwards, forcing you to take him all the way. Fucking your face roughly.

“You can take it, I know you can baby come on” Back and forth, he pulled his cock all the way out, letting you catch your breath before stuffing you full once again. You squealed around him, smacking your lips, pouring yourself into your movements.

Every fiber of his body shuddered as he came, twitching and jerking as he spilled deep in your throat. You licked up every last drop.

Everything changed after that night. You had cast a spell on him and he was undoubtedly cursed. The next morning, Kim Seokjin had arrived at his door. The broad man appeared much friendlier in person than the magazine shoots he had seen him in with his infamous mother. Likely his same age, he was undeniably handsome. Brown eyes that incited mischief, yet with a softness that was almost genuine.

Almost.

“I understand that you’re fucking my best friend”

Forward. Yoongi thought to himself.

“Mr. Kim, nice to see you” Yoongi greeted him politely. It would do him no favors to have someone this powerful as an enemy. “Would you like to come in?”

Jin scoffed, shaking his head. “You can keep seeing her, that’s not why I’m here” Yoongi raised his eyebrows, yeah right. “It’s not like she’d ever fall in love with a bartender. I’m not worried”

Yoongi scowled. There it was. The tricky power games that were synonymous with Kim Seokjin’s reputation. “Is that all?”

Jin grinned at his attitude. “I just want to make sure you understand that I am allowing this. In return, I expect you to come through for me when I need something” Jin’s gaze was intense—serious now, in contrast to his playfulness earlier. “Do we have an understanding?”

And that was how Jin came to own him. Though you would assure him that he was still his own man, Yoongi felt used. In servitude of a man who powered over him in every way. Working for Jin changed him in ways he was not prepared. What was first only bartending then became errands, favors, until he was effectively Jin’s right hand man.

It meant lying to you, hiding from you—but most of all, it meant being in constant fear of him.

He wondered how you would react if you knew the truth. The truth about what Jin was really up to, because it sure as hell wasn’t running the company.

But he could never tell you. He could never shatter the angelic view you had of your partner in crime. Yoongi knew you were in love with him from the way your eyes would light up talking about him. Your memories from childhood, or the intimate laughs the two of you would share. You followed him like a little lamb, adapting his crazy lifestyle and engaging with his elitist friends. And after the glimmering lights would go down, you’d make your way to Yoongi, who was…

What was he?

A dog. You had him on a leash, Jin had him in a cage. He was a mutt allowed to you out of pity, to distract you from the real things that were controlling your life. Yoongi’s job was to give you a semblance of control. A sexual outlet, a shoulder to lean on.  

And now here he was, all the loyalty paid off into dust as he tended the bar at your engagement party. It was ridiculous. Did he truly mean so little to you—that he wasn’t even a guest? Let alone the fact that it infuriated him you had to marry one of these twisted, god-awful Kim boys against your will.

In front of him, the man of the hour—the so-called Kim Taehyung, sat with a dirty smirk on his face, eyes drilled onto the pair of die rolling in his palm.

“So”

It was in the job description. Make conversation with the guests. Yoongi had been around long enough to know how to make men like Kim Taehyung feel great about themselves, in more ways than one.

“Been a while since you’ve been home huh”

He set down the shaker, straining the drink mix into a margarita glass with a slight flick of his wrist. Taehyung watched the steady pour of the liquid.

“Absolutely” He smiled, although Yoongi could tell it was fake. “I had to come home. See my family—my brothers. After all,” He flashed his forearm at Yoongi, where the Kim crest was neatly tattooed, same as his brothers.

Yoongi squinted. He knew about the tattoo. He had seen it, both on Namjoon and Jin. He knew they got it after their mother died. But as far as he knew, Taehyung had left at a fairly young age, not keeping in contact with his family. Taehyung hadn’t been around for his mother’s death.

Right? Yoongi pursed his lips. Taking another look, he watched Taehyung carefully. Round eyes, thick lips, small fingers in which the dice rolled.

He looked familiar. Yoongi swore he must have seen this man somewhere before. He knew nothing of where Taehyung had been for the past ten years. According to you, no one did.

“Please excuse me,” Nodding politely, Yoongi rushed off into the storage room. Grabbing his phone, he googled the man you were about to get engaged to.

Kim Taehyung.

Nothing.

Nothing at all—not even so much as a media article on the engagement. No photographs, nothing.

But I know I’ve seen you somewhere.

He went to his own camera roll, scrolling aimlessly in an attempt to jog his memory. Would it have been school? The casino? He couldn’t figure it out.

Until he saw it.

A group picture. From a dinner one of his professors had invited him to. There he was—Kim Taehyung.

Except there was no way, Yoongi would have remembered if he met someone with that name. Was he going by an alias? Who was he?

Dialing his professor, he gulped the sour bitterness in his mouth.

“Yoongi? Odd time to be calling—is everything alright?” His professor greeted him kindly.

“Hi sir. Sorry about that I just have a quick question. That dinner you invited us out to…there was another person there who was not a student. Could I know their name?”

His professor chuckled, “Oh, sure. That was Park Jimin—he was a student of mine who now runs a private practice, pretty upscale clients apparently.”

Hanging up abruptly, Yoongi ran back out to the bar.

Yoongi didn’t like anything about it. But he had little time to ponder over it when suddenly you walked in, and he swore his heart stopped.

He couldn’t breathe.

Because it finally hit him. Had he told you everything he held inside? Had he made sure he savored every last second he had you? He couldn’t think. His mind went blank, red with rage—even moreso when Taehyung stood up in front of him and went to go see you.

He watched as he pulled you onto the dance floor—you hate dancing, Yoongi thought to himself. He watched as the man touched you, the lust in his eyes shamelessly evident.

He felt like throwing up. He prayed and prayed that you would stop. He wanted you to get away from him, he wanted you to be in his arms.

And his prayers were answered, as the ceremony was brought to a startling halt.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Kim Seokjin”

Yoongi’s eyes darted towards the small ensemble of law enforcement that pushed through the crowd towards you, led by a man in a dark coat. Handcuffs clicked around your wrists and you were being dragged out. Yoongi ran to the entrance before they could take you—reaching out with assurance

“Y/n—listen to me” Your eyes were void of emotion. Frozen with complete and utter shock at the news. “Don’t say anything without a lawyer okay? I will meet you at the station with bail money”

You nodded slowly, but Yoongi wasn’t convinced you had heard him.

You were gone. Arrested. Yoongi spun around to scan the crowd—it was a critical time after all. Where was Namjoon? Yoongi looked on, searching for the Kim heir who was nowhere to be seen. His eyes landed instead on Taehyung who stood in the middle of the dance floor, a small tug at the edge of his lips.

Playing with those goddamn dice.

⟶ Years before the murder ⟵

“Tell me about the dice”

Back & forth. The steady creaking of the bed as the patient sat, curled up into himself. Across the room Jimin sat, waiting, observing. The patient was staring into the palm of his hand. Two red die, rolling around in his palm.

He had been at it for a while, not uttering a single word. But Jimin was trained for this. He was nothing if not patient. He could dig at his patient for hours until he would get them to bend to his will. Persistence, determination, delayed gratification, these things came to him easily.

Jimin cleared his throat, “Nurses are telling me you throw a fit when they try to take those away from you. It must bring you a lot of comfort”

The patient continued to ignore him.

“I understand you are very fond of playing cards” Jimin flipped through his files. “Want to tell me about that? Do you like gambling?”

The patient stilled his wrist, closing his long fingers over the dice. “She gave them to me”

Jimin raised his eyebrows. Finally. He was breaking through to him. He was so close to getting what he needed he was practically salivating. So close to getting all the information he needed.

He set his notebook aside, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked at his patient with sincerity. He was careful with the way he spoke, never wanting his patients to feel patronized, judged or scrutinized. He needed his patients to trust him. To confide in him without holding anything back.

“Why don’t you tell me about her, Taehyung?”

⟵|| previous || next ||⟶

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

thanks for reading you cutie <3 have a great day!