Fading Secrets

Fading Secrets

Chapter One

Cold Truth Revised

pairing: min yoongi x reader

summary: You wake up in an unfamiliar place with a man threatening your life for something your father did. But you know your father and you're certain he didn't do it. The man's son, Yoongi is the only one who shows you kindness and with his help, you decide to prove your father innocent.

content warnings: kidnapping, mention of death

a/n: Previously known as 'Cold Truth', this is the revised version. I hope it doesn't disappoint this time. Also I suck at summaries, so it is what it is lol

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When you opened your eyes, bright light enveloped your vision. Your head was killing you and there was an aftertaste of something funny smelling carved into your memory. You couldn't have drunk that much, could you? When your eyes adjusted to the outside world and you glanced around the surrounding area, your blood ran cold. While you believed that you weren't intoxicated enough to provoke anyone's anger at the club you were partying at with your friends the night before, the man currently sitting across from you was undoubtedly seething with anger.

The memories of the night before were hazy and like a puzzle, so you tried putting the pieces together to try and figure out how you were sitting in front of an unfamiliar man, seemingly in his mid-forties at least. You remember drinking with your friends, then informing them of your early departure back to your apartment. On your way back, someone had put a cloth with an old scent across your face until unconsciousness took over. And now, you woke up, with your hands bound behind the chair you were sat at, barefoot and in the dress from last night.

The silence was loud as the man stared at you, not even uttering a word. The chair you were sitting at was causing you discomfort, together with the headache that was already forming. The man's gaze bore into you, a disdainful expression etched on his face. You wondered if he looked at you with such disgust because of your appearance. You knew the dress was slightly shorter that you would have preferred usually, but it was your friend's birthday celebration and she insisted for you two to wear matching dresses, only in different color. The man staring at you in that moment wasn't the first one who was disgusted at the way younger generations were dressed today.

Maybe you would regret it, but you weren't the one to keep your mouth shut when you were nervous. „Okay, if no one is going to talk, I will, “ Your voice was hoarse so you had to take a second to clear your throat. „Who are you, and why am I here? It would be appreciated if you could untie me. I have no idea what you want from me and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to help you either no matter-"

A laugh echoed from somewhere behind you and you turned your head, looking over your shoulder to see a figure standing at the doorway. It was a boy your age, give or take a year or two. His hair was light and fell over his eyes. He wore a loose-fitting black T-shirt, complemented by faded blue jeans. A silver chain hung around his neck, and on his feet, he sported a pair of worn-in sneakers. He seemed quite laid-back and chill, for a guy who kidnapped you.

You could assume his voice was deep from the laugh you've heard, but you didn't have a chance to find out because the older man spoke. „Such a mouthful on an early morning,“ He laughed. „I'm Kim Taeyong, and that is my son, Yoongi,“ Shifting your head back as much as your body allowed, you caught another glimpse of the blonde boy. He leaned against a wall, arms folded across his chest and offered a subtle wave in acknowledgment. You rolled your eyes and redirected your attention back to his father. „You, sweetheart,“ Mr. Kim leaned forward, a luxury table presenting as the only barrier between you two. „Are here to pay for your father's mistake.“

It felt as if all the air was sucked out of your lungs at once, but you tried to control yourself and not show them that you were scared out of your mind. You had watched a lot of movies and it pays off for the main character to act confident. Maybe you would even be able to throw some punches and kicks like in the movies if you tried and then escape. But maybe you were being too confident even thinking of it. So, you opted to simply glare at the older man in front of you, despite the alcohol you consumed threatening to find its way back. „My father's mistake? What are you talking about? My father would never do anything wrong, he's innocent.“

Mr. Kim's eyes turned cold; it made you even more nervous. It was as if you could feel your body freezing just from his look. This was a dangerous man sitting in front of you. „Innocence is subjective, my dear. I'll enlighten you; I owe you that much. Your father ruined my life, destroyed the one thing I held dear the most. And now, I'll destroy everything he holds dear, starting with you.“

His words sent shivers down your spine and your lip quivered. Stay strong, Y/N! No matter how much you said those words to yourself, your mind decided not to listen. And you cursed whoever tied your hands behind your back, because you couldn't wipe away the tears that began falling from your eyes. Now they will know just how scared you were.

„You can't just blame someone else for your problems! Kidnapping me won't fix whatever issues you have with my father!“ You felt a surge of anger wash over you, and you were desperate. Although, if the movies thought you right, there was no compromising with people like Mr. Kim. „Just let me go, I won't tell anyone, I promise.“ You whined.

Mr. Kim leaned back in his chair. No matter what you said, his resolve was unyielding and the coldness in his eyes did not disappear. „Let you go? If only it were that simple,“ He stood, walking to your side of the table. Your body began shivering against your own will. Is he going to hurt you right now? To your relief, Mr. Kim sat on the edge of the table and stared down at you. „Your father must understand the consequences of his actions, and you're the perfect pawn in this little game.“

Your pleas for your life fell on deaf ears. The weight of the situation was suddenly too much to bear, it pressed down on you, cutting the air from your lungs. And silent tears still streamed down your face. You felt helpless, you were at mercy of a man thirsty for vengeance and there was nothing you could do to change his mind about hurting you.

What you didn't see, was the blonde boy, Yoongi, watching the conversation between you and his father with an unreadable expression. His father was ruthless, and Yoongi was the complete opposite, but he wouldn't go against his own father. As Mr. Kim spoke, Yoongi's eyes lingered on you, and for an instant, his facade cracked. He felt bad for you, especially since you were nothing but collateral damage in this whole situation. You were young and had your whole life ahead of you. You studied medicine and would become a doctor some day and save lives. And yet, here they were, about to take that away from you.

"Please," you begged, your voice breaking, "I don't want any part in whatever revenge you're seeking. I just want to go home. I won't say anything; I'll disappear, and you'll never have to see me again."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the only sound being your sniffles and the ominous ticking of a clock in the background. Mr. Kim finally spoke, his tone unwavering. "Disappearing won't bring back my dead wife. You're here to make sure your father understands that." Mr. Kim stood up again, and you flinched, thinking he would hurt you. But he walked past you, toward the door. „Yoongi, take our guest to a room for the night.“

Yoongi obeyed, approaching you. He untied your hands and the ropes fell away, allowing you a temporary feeling of relief. Yoongi didn't make eye contact with you as he grabbed you by your arm and led you out of the room. His touch was surprisingly gentle, which only confused you further. Shouldn't he be rough, pulling you by your hair or leading you on gunpoint? He led you through a corridor, down to another one with doors on each side. He opened the door on your right and ushered you inside.

The room you were brought to was surprisingly ordinary, contrast to the ominous atmosphere of the Kim manor. In one corner was a simple bed, neatly made and a small window with the curtains open, letting in rays of sunshine. On the other side, a work desk and a closet, made of fine wood with beautiful carved designs. Yoongi released your arm and turned to leave, but you stopped him before he could close the door.

„Please wait!“ To your surprise, he really did stop. However, he kept his back turned to you. „Can I, at least, have a change of clothes?“ He hesitated for a moment before he turned to you. He looked you up and down and the gesture made you want to crawl into a hole and never crawl back out.

„Fine,“ He mumbled and left, closing the door with a soft click, leaving you alone in the room. He didn't return for a few minutes and his absence made you question whether or not he was returning. You opted to sit on the bed and wait for his return, if he does. Lucky for you, the door opened again soon, and Yoongi returned with a bundle of clothes in his hands. He wordlessly tossed them onto the bed next to you. „There. Change and don't bother making a big deal. There is no one else in the house except for me right now,“ he said. Without waiting for your response, he turned to leave again, the door closing behind him. This time, you could hear the click of the lock, meaning that he locked you inside.

You sighed and decided to try and sleep off the hangover. Now that your life wasn't in any immediate danger, you were aware of the growing nausea and hoped that sleep would push it away. You put on the sweatpants and the dark, oversized t-shirt Yoongi had brought to you, with the addition of simple, black ankle socks. The clothing was for a male and it left you wondering who it belonged to. But you didn't want to tire your mind with questions like that for now. Covering your, previously freezing, body with the blanket, you fell asleep almost immediately. You needed to be in your best form if you were to escape anyway, so an hour or two of sleep wouldn't hurt.

oh i would have lost it all when he told her to look at him 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Filling for Love || Chapter 01

things don't go as planned when you ask Hoseok, your coworker, out on a date, and his best friend—and your boss—overhears your conversation

↠ 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 - namjoon x reader ↠ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 - workplace romance au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn ↠ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - explicit language, suggestive content ↠ 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 - every monday

"I am telling you, there's no way he doesn't have a girlfriend." You whisper, careful not to disturb anyone. Leaning forward, you nudge your chair closer to Taehyung's desk with a gentle push of your hands.

"Why don't you just ask him out? It's not like you're gonna marry him or something." Taehyung's voice is low, his eyes peering over the rim of his coffee cup with a hint of mischief.

You bite your lip, contemplating. "Well, it would be too embarrassing afterward." You glance at Taehyung, catching his eye roll. It's evident in his expression the blend of amusement and exasperation at your hesitance.

"A date won't hurt anybody, y/n. If he's single, then what's the problem?" Taehyung challenges you, setting his cup down with a soft clink.

You sigh mainly because of your racing mind. "The fact that I have to see him every day at work?"

How can he be so chill about it?

"If he says no, I'll have to quit my job." Your words tumble out, the thought alone making your stomach twist.

Taehyung chuckles, "Gosh, you're not asking your boss out."

You pause, a smirk playing on your lips. Hell, you are. Have you seen this man? Even his own father is afraid of him.

"Yeah, I'm asking his best friend," you confess, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

Just the thought of asking a boy out makes you giggle. You are so awkward around them; you have even surprised yourself that you are actually considering it.

He's cute, no denying that. But you and he haven't exactly had long conversations, nor has he shown overt interest. It's Taehyung's encouragement that lingers in your mind, his words nudging you to take a chance.

"Girl, if I were a CEO and a guy asked you out, I'd make him my personal assistant to make him suffer firsthand. Not fire him. You've got to keep them close," Taehyung declares, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He wiggles his eyebrows and forms a sinister plot with his hands, his smile taking on an almost evil curve.

You playfully toss your hair, a light flick that wouldn't draw attention but felt like the only fitting response. "Boy, if you were CEO, I wouldn't be working. You know stay-at-home besties are important too."

Taehyung's laughter fills the space between you. "Would you cook me food then?" he asks, his smile stretching wider.

"Of course not," you retort, matching his grin.

"Wash the dishes?"

"Don't you know me at all?"

"Then why the hell would I need you?"

"To manage your Tinder account? Duh." Your head shakes, feigning exasperation at his lack of foresight.

Instead of giving you an answer, Taehyung flicks a paper clip in your direction, his head shaking in mock disappointment. It clinks against your desk, and you watch it getting lost between countless papers.

You can't help but laugh because you know your idea is perfect. Genius even. In the fictional world where this could happen, you'd embrace the role of a so-called stay-at-home bestie in a heartbeat.

After all, if your bestie (and roommate) is rich, then what's the point of working in the first place?

Turning back to your PC's screen, you try to refocus on the many emails that have piled up in the last hour. With a determined sigh, you dive into the digital sea of tasks and communications.

Cracking your knuckles, you brace yourself to navigate through a maze of numbers. Earnings, costs, profits, losses - it all starts to mix together after a while, but you keep at it. You've wanted this job since you started studying Economics at university. It's not the creative career you once fantasized about, but it pays well, and the paycheck is always a sweet bonus.

You landed the position here a few months back through an internship, which is how you crossed paths with Taehyung. You were worried at first that the company would be full of older folks, and it might be hard to make friends or fit in. But on your first day, you met Taehyung, who had started working there two months before you. He's also an intern, working in the tech department and studying cybersecurity.

The connection with him was instantaneous. The two of you hit it off right away and started hanging out after work and university. Then, when your previous roommate moved out last month, inviting him to take that place was a no-brainer. Living with Taehyung has been great.

He cooks, which you're not a fan of doing, and you take care of the dishes. He handles the laundry; you keep the wardrobes organized. It's a good balance, and it's been surprisingly easy and nice to live with him.

"Hey, wanna take a break? I'm out of coffee," Taehyung's voice snaps you out of your world. In an instant, your screen is off, and you're on your feet, wallet in hand.

"I was hoping you'd say that," you say with a bit of drama, and link arms with him to go to the cafeteria downstairs.

The building has two break areas, but the one on the roof is for the higher-ups. So, the two of you head to the one on the first floor, where you usually get coffee and, on good days, a bagel too.

Taehyung presses the elevator button, and soon you're going down from the fifth floor. A few other people from different departments are in the elevator with you. Four floors later, you're on the first.

As you approach Yoongi at the coffee counter, a sudden nudge from Taehyung catches you off guard. You turn to see him not-so-subtly pointing somewhere.

"What?" you whisper, confused.

"Look," he urges, his entire body angled towards his point of interest.

Scanning the area with frustration, you're still clueless until Taehyung takes matters into his own hands, quite literally, redirecting your gaze, turning your head to see.

"There. Stupid," he mutters, sounding a bit annoyed.

Finally, your eyes land on the subject of his attention. You notice it - or rather, notice him.

A wave of realization washes over you, and you're suddenly frozen in place.

Taehyung nudges you from behind, urging you forward but you resist, every muscle tensed, not ready to follow his bold plan.

"Go talk to him," he insists, his voice a mix of encouragement and challenge.

You turn towards him, whispering with wide eyes, "Are you crazy? There's no way I'm asking him out with everyone watching."

"Y/n, seriously, relax. This isn't some movie drama. Look around - nobody cares who you're talking to," Taehyung counters, sweeping his hand around the room. You glance around and, indeed, everyone seems engrossed in their own world.

Doubt creeps in. Should you just go over there? What's the worst that could happen with a simple hello?

You look at Taehyung, hoping for a lifeline, but he knows you too well. "Just say hi, for heaven's sake," he says with an eye roll, gently pushing you forward.

Left to fend for yourself as he heads towards Yoongi, you straighten up, inhale deeply, and make your way over to him, fighting the urge to retreat.

It's no big deal.

You pep talk yourself, because after all, it's not like you have a crush or something. Okay, if he says no, your ego will be a bit hurt, you admit at least that, but your heart won't get broken by any means.

Here I go, you mutter under your breath, stepping up beside him.

You turn your attention to the menu overhead, pretending to be engrossed in it, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

As you sense him turning towards you, you casually shift your gaze, feigning surprise at his presence.

"Oh, hey, Hoseok..." you manage to say, your voice laced with a mix of nervousness and feigned calm.

God, do you look like an idiot right now?

"Hi, y/n," Hoseok greets you with a warm, inviting smile, and you can't help but return it.

"How are you?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

"Good, just taking a break from the chaos," he replies with a playful tone, his hand theatrically covering his mouth as if sharing a secret. You let out a small, nervous chuckle. "How about you?"

"Same," you respond, maintaining your smile, which he acknowledges with a nod.

A brief silence falls, giving you the opening you need. "So... um," you start, hesitating.

This is harder than you thought.

"I was wondering..." Your voice trails off as you berate yourself for dragging out such a simple question.

He looks at you encouragingly, "Yes?"

Your cheeks warm slightly under his gaze.

Just say it.

"Would you like to grab some coffee someday?" The words tumble out in a rush. "Outside of work," you quickly add for clarity, hoping to dispel any confusion.

The moment his smile fades, your heart sinks. You feel an overwhelming urge to vanish, to burrow into the earth and be forever forgotten.

"Oh..." he mutters, and you discreetly pinch your arm, fighting back tears.

"Um..." Hoseok adds and with each exclamation he's just making it worse.

Please, just stop talking, you silently beg, your eyes pleading with him. You're teetering on the edge of running the hell out of here.

"I..." he stammers, clearly as uncomfortable as you are, and you mentally slap yourself for ever asking him out.

Regret washes over you in an instant. You blame yourself, and in the back of your mind, Taehyung too, for planting this crazy idea.

What were you thinking?

"It's okay, I understand," you say hurriedly, not even sure what you're understanding. You'd say anything to escape this moment.

Then you hear a cough right next to Hoseok, and your whole body freezes, your mind going blank with shock.

Only now do you notice there's been someone standing beside him the entire time and panic starts to set in.

Shit, shit, shit!

Someone else heard everything. Every single word.

This is going to be office gossip for weeks.

You think, absurdly, of fleeing the country, assuming a new identity, something inconspicuous like a tree or a rock, anything to escape this mortification. Before you can fully process your panic, the man who coughed begins turning towards you and Hoseok.

This is the end.

Overwhelmed by embarrassment and dread, you feel faint, almost wishing you could just collapse right there and then.

Instead, your eyes widen in shock, and you instinctively grasp the counter for support, trying to steady yourself.

Because right there, standing next to Hoseok and now facing you, is Namjoon - his best friend.

Namjoon, your boss.

Namjoon, the owner of this entire company.

A panicked smile forces its way onto your face as you bring a trembling hand to your lips, pinching your lower lip in an attempt to control your nerves.

"Hello, Mr.," you manage to say, voice barely above a whisper, silently pleading that he doesn't remember your name.

In that moment, your usually regretted low social profile in the company feels like a blessing. With over 4000 employees, surely Namjoon won't recall every single person... right?

But then again, he's a known genius. At just 29, he's transformed a local business into an empire, while still managing to pursue online university courses. His reputation for having a sharp mind and keen memory is well-known, adding to your dread.

He's respected and feared in equal measure. Hoseok seems to be the only person capable of being relaxed around Namjoon. You still wonder how's that possible, but that's not important right now...

"Hello, y/n," he says, his voice calm yet unreadable. His gaze locks with yours, confident and unwavering. You quickly drop your eyes to the floor, heart racing.

He knows your name. This is bad. Really bad.

It means only one thing; your luck ends today. You're convinced you're about to lose your job. There is no other possibility, so you better start preparing yourself to face the accounting department, the pile of paperwork waiting for you already feels overwhelming.

Well, it was good while it lasted. You'll starve for a while, but you can always find a new job.

That's what you get for wanting a date. And for listening to Taehyung. You'll torture him for that later, but for now, you are only thinking of how to leave the cafeteria at least with some of your pride still existing.

As you mentally prepare for the worst, Namjoon speaks again, "Correct me if I'm wrong..."

You don't dare to meet his eyes, expecting the worst.

"Look at me when I speak to you," he commands with an authoritative edge.

Reluctantly, you raise your head, meeting his intimidating gaze. The chill that runs down your spine is unlike anything you've felt before.

"Do I pay you to flirt with my employees?"

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 || 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ↠

My Forbidden Desire Masterlist

Masterlist

pairing: jung hoseok x oc

summary: Kim Kyungmi's first day of college ends up being eventful as she discovers her brothers have been keeping a secret from her. Now, she has to juggle the responsibilities of a student and a sister of the Charmed Trio and live up to the family name. On top of that, romance is blossoming between her and a student she's paired with to help do an assignment.

trigger warning: none

a/n: This fanfic is a inspired by the original "Charmed" show from 1998. While I will copy some elements from the show, I will still try to work my way around them and make it as original as possible. All the credit goes to the rightful creator and I do not intend to claim any of the elements I use in this fanfic from the show as my own.

Teaser

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three - coming soon

i would simply ✨️melt✨️ if tae held my hand

Illusion of Us || Chapter 01

a misunderstanding sparks a rumor that you and taehyung are in a relationship what you didn't expect was him asking you to keep the rumor alive

↠ 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 - taehyung x reader ↠ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 - fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn ↠ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - explicit language, suggestive content ↠ 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 - every friday

"Hey baby," you greet Namjoon with a smile as soon as you approach him. He's been waiting for you at the bus station, like every other morning. His eyes light up at your arrival, ready to accompany you to your department.

He's a year older than you, but this semester, luckily, your schedules align. At last, you have a companion for your breaks.

If it weren't for him, you'd still be shielding yourself with your phone and earphones, a fortress against any unwanted human contact. There's nothing in this world that makes you more uncomfortable than small talk. Especially with people you have no similar interest with, and with whom you will never speak again once you graduate.

The path to an Art University was an unexpected turn in your journey. Choosing university life itself was a leap, yet when your mother pushed for Maths, you opted for the less daunting world of art and history, rather than the perplexities of mathematical equations.

Maths was manageable during school - up to a point, at least. The introduction of Xs and Fs marked a clear boundary for your interests; you were stable enough to never choose this career path.

"How many times must I tell you not to call me that?" Namjoon whines, to which you respond with a soft chuckle, savoring the hot chocolate he kindly bought you. Countless times didn't you tell him to keep his money and not spend it on you, but he insists it is the least he can do for you since you help him pass his classes, providing him with all your notes and flash cards.

Your friendship with Namjoon evolved effortlessly over the years. It began in your second year when he approached you for directions. Being the first person you'd spoken to in weeks, you felt a compelling urge to step out of your bubble and actually communicate.

It only happened occasionally, and only if the presence of the other person didn't trigger all your bad feelings and second thoughts in an instant. Namjoon was one of these people. Then there's Hoseok, another kindred spirit, whose effortless charm could thaw the coldest of hearts. Even the thickest iceberg would melt with just a smile of his.

He has that kind of charm, don't blame him.

You, however, have always been more guarded, trusting mainly in your intuition to guide you through social landscapes.

"And how many times have I told you I won't stop?" you tease him, playfully sticking out your tongue.

"Y/n, you're making it really difficult for me to find a girlfriend!" Namjoon exclaims as you both walk down the small road leading to your building.

"I certainly do not," you retort, not the least bit offended by his statement. You know it's far from true. People never confuse you for a couple; instead, they often ask if you're siblings, curious about how you stay so close.

Truth is, Namjoon feels like the brother you never had. Which is why you often give in and do whatever he asks just so he can be happy. Even if that means go clubbing, something you utterly despise and under any other circumstance you would avoid wholeheartly. But when he asks so earnestly, hoping you'll meet new people, you can't bring yourself to say no.

"And why don't I have a girlfriend, then?" he asks, oblivious to how he acts around girls he likes. You smile and meet his eyes before responding.

"Could it be because you stammer and turn as red as a radish around girls you like?" you suggest, trying to suppress your amusement at his glare and pursed lips. His reaction is so comical you almost choke on your drink.

In response to his glare, you blow him a flying kiss and start walking down the hallway to your auditorium, leaving him at the door of his class.

Enjoying the comfort of your solitude, you take a seat in the second row and begin unpacking your supplies for today's lecture. The hassle of moving canvases and palettes daily isn't convenient, but it gives you a sense of uniqueness, like the female lead in a movie. Because, clearly, in the most unexpected situation your destined half will see you struggling and offer to help you, head over heels for you from the moment he saw you.

Well, the reality...

The reality is far from cinematic. More often than not, you find yourself tripping over, splattering paint on your clothes, embracing the daily chaos. The way you'd rather tie your hair in messy buns and ponytails instead of taking the time to tame this mass of accumulated attitude doesn't help either, but you don't mind.

You occasionally feel self-conscious about your appearance, but it's never been a significant concern. You make an effort when necessary, but you are not one of those girls who wake up two hours before class to get their make up done without a flaw and style their hair to perfection. You admire and envy them, but it's not something you could add to your routine even if you tried.

You love sleep too much to sacrifice it for something like that.

"Hey y/n," comes a man's voice, not unfamiliar yet not immediately recognizable. It couldn't be one of your close friends; after all, Namjoon is on the first floor, and Hoseok studies in a completely different department, majoring in confectionery.

His forte might not extend beyond smoothies, but, hey, at least he has progressed to measuring ingredients, a small victory in its own right.

Lifting your gaze, you're greeted by Yoongi's familiar smile.

"Hey Yoongi," you respond, setting your phone aside on the desk. You may be awkward around people, but you've never been rude enough to ignore them. That would be embarrassing, and you'd ruminate on it for days, especially before falling asleep.

"Will you come to the movie tomorrow?" he asks, taking a sip from his extra-large iced americano.

While you wouldn't label your relationship with Yoongi as close, your mutual connection with Namjoon and Hoseok often finds you in the same social circle. Your gatherings, typically involving clubbing or movie nights eating burgers, form the extent of your social life.

This is your only time for socialization, to be honest, and handling seven men is quite draining. You're perfectly fine with just that.

You nod at Yoongi's question before replying, "Yes, Namjoon told me yesterday. At 7, right?"

"Right, and feel free to bring someone along," he suggests, and you just smile because you both know it's never going to happen. Every time someone offers, and every time you only tag along with Namjoon and Hoseok, who are also Yoongi's best friends, essentially nullifying the concept of bringing a friend.

With that, Yoongi walks over to one of his best friends, Taehyung, and sits next to him. Yoongi's not even enrolled here, yet he tags along from time to time and attends lectures. These times seem to be the hardest for Taehyung, between being the most popular here and Yoongi asking him to introduce him to every girl, Taehyung often looks tired and ready to leave and never come back.

Out of all Namjoon's best friends, Taehyung is definitely the most introverted. Yet, it still amazes you how he manages to be so popular without even trying. You've spoken a few times during your get-togethers, but other than that, even in class, you stick to greeting each other.

It is really hard approaching someone when both of you are shy...

Discovering you were in the same department as Taehyung was a surprise, a detail that never surfaced during those laid-back summer days spent together two years ago. The day you found him waiting outside your house with Namjoon, ready to carpool to uni, was quite a shock.

Apparently, drawing is Taehyung's passion, so there was no other option for him than applying to art school.

It was the only time you came to class together. Mainly because your house was nowhere near his, so you felt bad having him drive you around. And partly because every girl saw you coming together and openly asked you to hook them up.

Being single yourself, it would be a shame to meddle in others' love lives too. Playing wingman was never one of your strong suits anyway. Once, you tried to set Namjoon up with one of your project partners, and the girl ended up thinking he was gay.

Namjoon's silent treatment lasted a week following that incident. He had been genuinely interested in the girl, and your misguided matchmaking only compounded his frustrations. Eventually, he moved on after a while and found someone else, thankfully not from your year.

A smile tugs at your lips as these memories flicker through your mind. You open your notebook, getting ready for the lecture as the professor steps in.

➽──────────────❥

"... so let's begin with the outline. You have ten m-"

A sudden alarm slices through your professor's words, halting time itself. You find yourself frozen, a statue amidst chaos, struggling to process the unfolding events. Around you, a spectrum of reactions: some scream in panic, while others, like you, are eerily still, unblinking.

All those years of fire drills, the routine marches out of school buildings, had never prepared you for the real thing. Now, that it's happening in real life, every rule you thought you remembered has suddenly flown away, leaving your mind blank.

You are not an adrenaline seeker in any way, and under stress, it's more likely you'll go numb or start crying than get a grip on the situation.

Like a distant echo, you heard your professor urging everyone to stay calm and exit the building in groups through the back door, which is near the classroom you are in.

If it weren't for the person sitting next to you nudging you worriedly, you would probably have remained seated, not moving an inch. But prompted by their nudge, you hastily grabbed your belongings and started walking toward the corridor.

Walking almost mechanically, clutching your bag to your side, you didn't hear someone shouting in time, "Y/n, watch out."

In a blur, you're pressed against the wall, an arm securely around your waist preventing a near collision. Inches away from a potential injury, saved by swift intervention from someone who reacted quicker than you.

"I'm sorry," you hear him say, and as you look up, you're met with Taehyung's worried gaze. His eyes scan you anxiously for any sign of harm.

"Are you okay?" Taehyung asks, not letting you go. His voice is steadying, yet his proximity is disorienting. The sudden closeness, having him this near, feels overwhelming. Words elude you, leaving your thoughts in disarray, so you simply nod in response to his question.

Even then, he doesn't seem convinced, his hold still firm. In reality, if he let you go, there's a high chance your legs would give out, leaving you on the floor.

"Y/n," he repeats, concern evident in his voice. As your eyes meet his, the realization hits that you haven't yet spoken, unintentionally fueling his worry and giving him every reason to believe you might be hurt.

"I'm fine," you manage to say. The moment your voice breaks the silence, his grip around your waist involuntarily tightens. Unexpectedly, you feel his thumb caressing your cheek, his body moving even closer to you, into a space you thought nonexistent.

He is very close now. Too close.

Holding your breath, you're caught off guard by his soft smile, the warmth spreading to your cheeks. They're probably cherry red by now.

Confused and slightly flustered by his move you ask him, almost in a whisper, "What are you doing?"

He seems to snap out of his own daze, pulling his hand back abruptly. You almost whine at the sudden loss of warmth, surprised by how his touch felt.

"Uh... I'm sorry," Taehyung stammers, a tinge of embarrassment coloring his features. "I just wanted to make sure you are okay," he adds, managing a faint smile.

Unsure how to respond or act, you turn your gaze away, and like a thunderstrike, you realize that you are in fact in the middle of an evacuation. Rather than gazing at Taehyung like the eye candy he is, it would be wiser to make a swift exit.

"I think we should get going," you voice your thoughts, and Taehyung follows your gaze, watching all your colleagues rushing.

"Right," he replies and without warning, he takes your hand again, guiding you through the throng of people. His grip is reassuring, a constant presence amidst the disorder.

Throughout the entire route, he never let go of your hand, squeezing your palm occasionally, especially when the crowd thickened, as if afraid to lose you.

Once you reach a quieter area, the relief is palpable. Close enough to catch any announcements but far from the pandemonium, you both pause to catch your breath.

"Are you alright?" Taehyung asks as he takes the seat next to you.

"Yes," you reply, turning to look at him. His gaze is already on you. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm good," he reassures you, digging through his bag before offering you a water bottle. "Here, you might need this."

The abrupt ring of your phone shatters the calm, displaying Namjoon's name on the screen.

"Where are you?" Namjoon's voice, tense and laced with worry, crackles through the phone. The underlying stress, possibly from fears of a fire in the building, is palpable in his tone.

"I'm by the parking lot, come h-" Before you can finish your sentence, the call goes dead, and a hurried Namjoon is seen running toward you.

He immediately begins a thorough, almost frantic check of your wellbeing, his hands moving over your face, head, and limbs, as if that could tell him if you're okay.

"I'm fine," you assure him, meeting his eyes. He exhales a heavy sigh, visibly trying to compose himself.

"You had me worried," he admits, his hands pausing to massage his temples.

"I can walk, you know," you reply. Thankfully, everyone is fine; there's no point in exaggerating the situation more than necessary.

"Situations like these require quick thinking. I'm sure you're more likely to freeze in place than to walk," Namjoon states, confident in his assumption, and you hate that he's right. That's exactly what you did a few minutes ago.

Next to you, Taehyung's chuckle breaks through, and as you turn to him, his laughter grows, hands raised in a gesture of playful surrender.

"Let's get out of here," Taehyung suggests, rising to his feet. Mimicking his action, you stand, slinging your hands over your shoulder.

With him leading the way, the three of you head toward his car. It's wise to leave now, before the parking lot becomes congested and you're stuck here for another fifteen minutes.

Reaching his Genesis GV80 SUV, you wait for him to unlock it, when Namjoon suddenly grabs your arm to get your attention.

"Y/n?" Namjoon's confusion is evident in his furrowed brow.

"Hm?" you murmur, more a sound than a sentence.

"What's happening?" he asks.

You frown at his question, puzzled. "What do you mean?" you ask.

"You were holding hands with Taehyung." He points out, and you look at him in astonishment.

Your surprise is not at the question itself; after all, you and Namjoon share everything. It's the realization that Taehyung's hand in yours had felt so natural, you hadn't even noticed.

For the second time today...

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 || 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ↠

hey, you missed a warning. you should add "yoongi in a black turtleneck"

oh i'm absolutely loving this

Safely Yours || Chapter 01

when a bodyguard enters your life by your father's orders, you have no choice but to learn to live with him

↠ 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 - yoongi x reader ↠ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 - bodyguard au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn ↠ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - explicit language, suggestive content ↠ 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 - every tuesday

"You have to be kidding me," you mutter, cursing your luck as you halt on the sidewalk.

Digging through your seemingly bottomless bag for a tissue, you finally find one, all while juggling your spilled coffee in the other hand. A real test of nerves, and it's only early morning.

Today's start is far from ideal. The alarm, unheard, led to your oversleeping but, luckily your housekeeper checked in about breakfast, nudging you awake.

The delay meant you skipped breakfast, and you are always in a bad mood when hungry. Add your coffee addiction to that, and you become a perfect, nerve-wracking walking ball. You wet the tissue with a bit of water, placing your coffee on a bench next to you, and pat the fabric of your beige shirt to remove the stain.

Pointless.

The stain has firmly set near the top button of your blouse.

Deep breaths, y/n. It's already Friday. Just one day. Endure hell today, and you'll be home free by evening.

You offer a nod to the security guard by your company's entrance and enter as he holds the door. The company, technically your father's, largely falls under your management now, what with his frequent trips and new fiancée. Having a mother-in-law only two years older than you certainly feels... wrong.

But if your father isn't wise enough to understand that, despite your endless conversations about the subject, then there's nothing you can do. You fought with him, you stopped talking to him, and he still chooses to have such a disturbing age gap. Eventually, you gave up and now just ignore him and his life choices.

As long as the company is safe and isn't threatened by unwelcomed interests, there's no point in fighting anymore. You are too tired and have your own problems.

Greeting the receptionist, you opt for the stairs to your fourth-floor office. Heels clicking rhythmically, you climb, preferring this exertion over the claustrophobia-inducing elevator. The mere thought of being trapped in such a confined space sends a shiver down your spine.

Shaking off these thoughts, you take the first step.

After a few minutes, you reach your office's hall. Your secretary, already at his desk, greets you with a warm smile. He feels like a brother figure, a role unfamiliar to you since you are an only child.

Jungkook works for two years now, but he already knows the company inside out. He's always been there to help, and you often find yourself asking for his advice.

"Good morning," he says in a kind way and, despite your lingering irritability, a half-hearted smile forms on your lips - the best you can manage today.

"Bad start?" Jungkook asks as he follows you into your office, but you stop suddenly at the door, almost making him bump into you.

"Who's that?" Your eyes fix on a man standing by the window wall, his hands casually in his pockets, seemingly oblivious to your entrance.

Jungkook doesn't answer right away. His silence is uncharacteristic, and you sense something is off. Turning to him, you notice he's not looking at you, his gaze fixed on the folder in his arms.

"JK?" you ask again.

"Your father sent him," he says quietly, almost like he's talking to himself. A wave of panic washes over you, but you suppress it, taking a deep breath.

Looks like today is going to be a tough one.

"Hello," you call out to get the man's attention, and walk to your desk. Jungkook comes with you.

In those brief moments, you get a clearer view of the man. His back is to you, yet his posture speaks volumes. He sports a black turtleneck, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, complemented by a sleek black watch.

He turns to look at you, and if you were a cartoon, your jaw would have dropped to the floor. You manage only to freeze in place. Yet your reaction doesn't do justice to this man's striking appearance.

He's very handsome, with wavy black hair stopping just above his ears and dark brown eyes that stand out against his light skin. The square, black glasses give him a sophisticated look and you conclude that it is his intention.

"Hello, miss y/l/n," he says, and something about the way he says it makes you want to frown.

Regaining your composure, you continue to your desk. The man has already seated himself, a presumption that rankles you. His manner of speaking is cold and formal, yet his actions display an authority he doesn't have here. Normally, visitors wait for the host to sit during a meeting - a basic courtesy seemingly lost on him.

And let's not even start on how you don't know why he is here or why your father sent him.

"How can I help you?" you ask, settling into your chair. It's apparent he has no intention of standing any time soon.

Rather than responding, he looks at Jungkook, as if his presence is an impediment.

"You can speak," you tell him, trying to be encouraging.

"I'd rather not," he replies, folding his hands and fixing his gaze on an indistinct point in the room, effectively shutting down the conversation.

Of course, today of all days, you have to deal with people who are just tiring.

You cough and wave Jungkook off, a look of plea on your face for some mental support to handle this man. He gives a small chuckle and leaves the files he's holding on your desk, then exits the room.

"I'm listening," you say after the door shuts behind her.

"How can I help you?" you ask again, and he finally meets your gaze, sitting up more in his chair.

"Me? What do you mean?" he responds, looking confused. Out of all the possible reactions you'd expect from him, confusion is not one.

If he doesn't know why he's here, how are you supposed to know?

"Ah, wait a minute," the man says, pausing you before you can speak. "Do you know who I am?" he asks.

This catches you off guard. You're sure it's your first time meeting him. You rarely forget faces, and his is one you're certain you'd never forget.

Shaking your head, you show your confusion.

"Really?" he asks, sounding surprised.

"Yes," you say firmly, as he seems not to believe you.

"I am your new bodyguard."

Say what now?

You blink several times, trying to make sense of his words.

This has to be a joke, maybe a prank by one of your friends, because why would you need a bodyguard?

"Why? Did I have an old one too?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood, but he doesn't laugh. Your chuckle echoes in the silent room.

Without humor, too, noted.

"I am not joking, miss y/l/n," he says sternly. His serious tone is sharper than ever.

Now you feel uncomfortable and lean back in your chair. It seems like it's not a prank after all.

"Then explain yourself. I didn't hire a bodyguard," you say, getting down to business. He's here for 'miss y/l/n', so let him meet her.

He asked for it!

"You didn't," he begins, and just as you're about to cut him off, stuffing his face with 'I told you so', he adds, "Your father did."

You can't help but laugh at this.

His gaze stays fixed on you, if he is surprised by your reaction, he doesn't show it.

"Miss y/l/n," he says, bringing you back from your laughter. He's not amused. At all.

Man, he really is no fun. Damn.

"I'm sorry," you apologize, not really meaning it, and wipe away a tear from laughing.

"Your father hired me last week," he continues, as if that explains everything.

Hold on.

"One moment," you say. "You really are a bodyguard?" Disbelief fills your voice, but he just nods.

"And my father hired you?" Another nod.

"For me?" And another.

You open your mouth to say more but find yourself speechless.

"Now that you've grasped the situation, can I continue?" he asks, oblivious to your growing frustration and distress.

Could your father really do this without asking? He knows how much you value your independence. He couldn't possibly violate it like that. Right?

No, it can't be. Right?

"There must be some mistake," you explain, trying to make sense of this ridiculous situation. But the man doesn't seem to agree.

"Sir Peter hired me last week," he repeats. And fuck, that is your father.

Panic begins to seep in; the room feels like it's shrinking, closing in on you. The walls inching closer with each breath you take.

You close your eyes and clutch your chest, focusing on steadying your breathing. Over time, you've become adept at managing these minor bouts of panic, often preventing them from escalating into full-blown attacks. The coping strategies your therapist taught you come in handy, making these moments slightly more tolerable.

"Are you okay?" the man inquires, causing you to snap back to reality. You abruptly stand up, your decision clear: head straight to your father's office.

Checking your calendar earlier, you know he's in today. This confusion has to be sorted out now.

As you stride forward, you sense the man trailing behind you, but you don't slow down – if he wants to keep up, he'll have to hustle. Soon enough, he's matching your pace. At the elevator, he pauses, but you don't.

"Where are you going?" he asks, reaching for the elevator button.

"Taking the stairs," you reply curtly, not breaking your stride.

You don't expect him to join you on the three-flight climb, and he doesn't disappoint, opting for the elevator instead. Yet, when you reach the seventh floor, he's there waiting, a mild surprise you choose not to show.

Both of you stay silent as you lead the way into your father's office, not bothering to knock.

"What are you doing?" your father's voice rises in surprise, softening as he recognizes you. "Y/n?" He starts to stand, perhaps for a hug, but you signal him to sit back down.

You settle on his large couch, while the man, still unnamed to you, stands stiffly by your side, hands behind his back. With a simple nod, he greets your father.

"What is happening?" your father queries, adding to your growing irritation with all these questions everyone asks today.

"You tell me," you respond, your voice edged with impatience.

"I don't understand," he replies, either genuinely clueless or trying to drive you mad. There's no other explanation.

"Who's this?" you demand, gesturing towards the man at your side while deliberately avoiding his gaze. His proximity feels suffocating.

"That's Yoongi," your father answers nonchalantly, and you might really go crazy.

Are you missing something here?

"Your bodyguard," he adds, peering at you briefly through his glasses, a smile playing on his lips that only irks you more.

"I don't need a bodyguard," you assert firmly, though no one seems to ask or care about your opinion.

"Let me decide that, okay?" he counters, his voice laced with an underlying firmness that hides threats and warnings.

"I'm an independent and capable woman. I don't need a bodyguard," you reiterate, standing your ground.

The sharp click of your father's pen against his desk momentarily startles you, but you quickly regain your composure.

You are not that little girl anymore, y/n. You can fight for yourself.

"And I say you need one," your father insists, his tone firm.

"Father!" you raise your voice, unable to contain your frustration.

"Don't yell!" he snaps back. Ironically enough, at a higher volume himself.

That's how it has always been in your house. To be heard, you have to scream, losing every right to your mind and self.

No wonder you prefer environments where you're in control of the noise – music, TV shows, anything that you can adjust to your... sensitivities.

"You're getting a bodyguard. Why are you acting so spoiled all of a sudden?" he questions.

His words shouldn't have hurt you; you're always the bad kid, the disappointment when you don't puppeteer to your parents' beliefs. You should've gotten used to it by now, and even though it doesn't bother you that much anymore, it still leaves a bitterness.

"I just want to know why I need one, father," you respond, more composed this time.

"Because I say so. Isn't that good enough for you?" he replies, the implication clear.

"I understand," you say, standing up, resigned to the fact that this argument is going nowhere.

"Have a good day," you add, leaving his office while he calls after you to wait. You don't.

San, that was his name, wasn't it? He tails you. As you pass a small balcony, he suddenly grabs your arm and pulls you aside without warning.

Too stunned to speak, you stand still until you regain your balance and then sharply pull away from his grip.

"What are you doing?" you ask in a hushed, urgent tone, conscious of the nearby employees.

"Wait here," he instructs, ignoring your question, and strides away.

Feeling out of place, you offer a brief, polite smile to your employees before shifting your focus back to your heels, feeling awkward.

Soon, he's back, holding a cup of what you guess is water.

"Drink," he commands, offering you the cup.

You stand firm, arms crossed. His bossiness doesn't sway you.

He rolls his eyes, the most emotion he's shown so far, and forcibly places the cup in your hand. "I said drink," he repeats, his tone more authoritative this time.

You'd resist more, but he seems crazy enough to cause a scene over a damn cup of water, and you decide it's not worth becoming a laughing stock at your own company.

You drink a big gulp of water, but wait...

It's not refreshing; it's sharp and burning.

Realization hits you and you gasp, lowering the cup, coughing from the unexpected heat in your throat.

"Whiskey? It's 10 in the morning!"

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 || 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ↠

My Forbidden Desire

Teaser

pairing: jung hoseok x oc

summary: Kim Kyungmi's first day of college ends up being eventful as she discovers her brothers have been keeping a secret from her. Now, she has to juggle the responsibilities of a student and a sister of the Charmed Trio and live up to the family name. On top of that, romance is blossoming between her and a student she's paired with to help do an assignment.

trigger warning: none

a/n: This fanfic is a inspired by the original "Charmed" show from 1998. While I will copy some elements from the show, I will still try to work my way around them and make it as original as possible. All the credit goes to the rightful creator and I do not intend to claim any of the elements I use in this fanfic from the show as my own.

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As Seokjin's car pulled up to the bustling campus of the Korea University, Kyungmi's excitement mingled with nervousness. Seokjin and she stepped out of the car, collecting their bags with the essentials they needed for the day. Kyungmi took in the scene of students mingling with each other and pilling out of the building. Beside her, Seokjin offered a comforting smile, his hand resting on her shoulder. „Everything will be alright, you'll do amazing,“ Seokjin's voice was filled with confidence and pride for his little sister.

Kyungmi returned the smile, suddenly wrapping her arms around her brother. „Thanks, Jin oppa,“ Seokjin sighed with a smile as he patted her head lovingly.

As they made their way toward the entrance of the building, Kyungmi's heart skipped a beat when she spotted her best friend waiting for her near the entrance. His familiar smile filled her with a sense of warmth and reassurance, easing the last traces of nerves from her mind. Kyungmi said goodbye to her brother before she rushed over to greet Jimin.

„Jimin-ah!“ Kyungmi exclaimed, breaking into a grin.

Jimin's smile widened as he enveloped her in a hug, his arms wrapping around her. „Hey, Mi!“ Suddenly, Jimin tensed in her hold and Kyungmi noticed. Jimin frowned when he felt something different about her, something present within her. Something that wasn't there last night when he had visited her at her home. Kyungmi pulled away from Jimin and looked at him, asking if he was alright.

His gazed lowered from her eyes to the silver pendant hanging around her neck. It wasn't something she had on her before, he would know as she shared everything with him, and vice versa. Well, he didn't share everything. Jimin knew what that sensation within Kyungmi he was feeling was, and now he was sure it had something to do with the pendant. A flicker of recognition crossed Jimin's features as he realized the significance of the pendant – the pice of jewlery that had held her powers hidden.

„Jimin-ah, are you alright?“ Jimin picked up on Kyungmi's worry and he quickly masked his true feeling with a small smile.

„I'm fine,“ he replied. „Just got lost in thought for a moment.“

Despite Jimin's reassuring words, Kyungmi knew there was more to it than he was letting in on. She knew him enough to recognize when something was bothering him, and this time, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something from her. Something having to do with herself and the pendant he had been staring at. She wanted to press further, to uncover the secret he's hiding, but she also knew that he would tell her when he felt comfortable with it. So, Kyungmi nodded and forced a smile onto her face. „Alright then,“ she said, her voice gentle. „Let's head to class, shall we?“