#btskimseokjin

“C’mon. What do you want? Money? Your life? You can have it all. We just need a name. A name. That’s it. A couple of letters,” Namjoon bargains, “and you’re free to go.”

The man looks around, taking in his surroundings. Before him are the Kim Clan’s top three. Behind him are their men, each of fairly high ranking. The room is small and concrete and lacking windows, meaning he’s going to die either way. Kim Namjoon isn’t a man of his word.

“You might as well kill me.”

“Yes! Finally―”

“Jimin! Back down,” Namjoon commands. He gives his friend a stern look before turning his attention back to the man, and his face contorts into one of some jeering devil. “I’ve got a better idea for you. You’ll sit here, and rot away your days. You’ll take what comes to you. Maybe you’ll get a good old fashioned beating. Maybe you’ll be lacking water. Maybe we’ll feed you a five star steak dinner. Just depends on how you’re feeling. Either way, by the end of it, you’ll tell us what we need to know.”

The man spits at Namjoon’s feet. “I’d like to see you fucking try.”

Namjoon stands, beckoning to his men who nod in response. Before he leaves, he glances over his shoulder. “Jimin,” he says.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Go at it. Just don’t kill him.”

Namjoon doesn’t hear his reply because he’s already shutting the door. Hoseok runs up next to him, looking back with some concern. “You sure that was a good idea? You know how Jimin can get.”

“Well I guess I’ll have to trust you to make sure that he doesn’t overdo it. Did you find another lead?”

“Nope. This ghost is sealed and sealed tight. If this guy won’t give us a name, then we can forget asking the Min Clan directly. It’s not happening.”

“Fuck!” Namjoon shouts as he climbs the stairs, his voice echoing up the hallway. “Why is this so difficult? I’m still fucking pissed about the senator too.”

“Yeah, well, you’re always pissed.”

“Cause someone is always doing something stupid!”

“You sound stressed,” a new voice giggles, and Namjoon freezes.

Fucking shit he totally forgot.

There you sit, on his couch, completely relaxed, looking like the most innocent thing in the world despite just coming back from your own brutal interrogation session, and acting like you have no idea what Namjoon’s been up to.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, running to plant an apology kiss on your cheek.

“Whipped,” Hoseok mutters through a fake cough, earning a glare from his friend. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Hoseok. How are you?”

“I’m okay. Little tired, but okay.”

“Where’s Jimin?”

“He’s… You know, I should probably go check on him. I’ll tell him you said hi!” Hoseok replies as he runs back from where he came. Hopefully he didn’t go overboard!

“So, I’m guessing you forgot?” you say, changing the subject.

“I’m so so sorry… I got preoccupied with work and I― How long were you waiting here?”

“Not long, Sir,” interjects a man from the other side of the room. “We only just let her in.”

“Well I’ve been waiting outside instead because they wouldn’t fucking let me in but whatever. Your security is really uptight,” you complain. Namjoon chuckles, though he’s grateful his men aren’t complete idiots. He gives a subtle nod to his guard, silently saying, “Job well done.”

“Okay, I will make it up to you. I just have to get changed first.”

“Can I come?”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re gonna distract me?”

“You already made us miss our reservations so does it really matter anyways?”

“Fair point.”

You follow Namjoon up to his room, hand locked with his and giggles escaping your lips the entire time. As soon as he gets the chance, Namjoon is throwing you on his bed and climbing on. He plants soft kisses all over your face and neck, throwing you into fits of laughter. You can’t escape because he’s got your wrists pinned down, and, unfortunately, he’s a little bit stronger than you are.

“Namjoon, Namjoon!” you laugh through heavy breaths, “Get off!”

“But I don’t wanna,” he whines. He releases your wrists and you push on his chest, rolling yourselves over so that you’re straddling him.

“You said you were gonna change,” you say, pecking his lips.

“This is more fun.”

“But you were gonna make it up to me, remember?” Another peck.

“I could make it up to you right here, right now.”

“Except I’m hungry,” you say, smiling as you climb off of him. He sits up, looking at you with only adoration.

“Fine, fine. I’m going.” He gets up, shedding his shirt in the process. You bite your lip, suddenly contemplating skipping dinner altogether, but he seems to read your mind and shakes his head. “Nope. You lost that opportunity.”

“But―”

“No buts! I’m gonna take you out somewhere nice to eat. And then maybe we’ll go see a movie. And then maybe we’ll go take a walk. And then I’ll fuck you.”

“Why can’t you be one of those boyfriends that says ‘make love’ instead?”

He rolls his eyes as he fixes his hair. “Because,” he laughs, “if I tried to ‘make love’ to you, you’d just tell me to stop fucking around! You’re really impatient, you know.”

“Hey!”

“Am I wrong?”

“Not the point, jerk.”

“Hey, don’t call me a jerk. I’m paying for your meal.”

“Well I’d hope so. You’re the rich one.”

He walks over to you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Are you saying you’re only dating me for my money?”

“Yes,” you reply without hesitation, “that’s it.”

“What if I lost all my money tomorrow? Would you still go out with me?”

“Probably not.”

“Oh, that’s just cruel.”

“You made me miss my dinner!”

“C’mon then, babe,” he says, holding out his hand, “I owe you a date.”

Namjoon hasn’t seen you in, what, a week? And it’s like you’ve been gone a lifetime. There’s just something about you. Something that’s so positively alluring. Something that’s got him reeling. He can’t quite place it. He doesn’t even really know how he found himself like this. He doesn’t get attached. It’s just not in his nature.

Yet, here he is, spoon feeding you ice cream in the middle of the park solely because you asked him to. And he knows he’s gonna get so much shit for this when he goes back home. He can feel the smirks of his men watching him.

You’d be lying if you said he didn’t do things to you too.

You aren’t a relationship person; you’ve got too many commitment issues for that. You’ve never felt safe letting anyone get too close, but, as moments become minutes and minutes become hours and hours become days and days become months, you find yourself so eased by his presence. So soothed by his voice. So eager to divulge every dirty secret that you have under you.

But you don’t, of course. How would you even begin? You couldn’t up and tell him about the time you snagged a very important key right out from under him. You couldn’t tell him about the time you learned a couple of security access codes when he wasn’t paying attention. You couldn’t tell him about the time you swiped a flash drive that happened to be lying around. You couldn’t tell him that the reason he was so stressed lately about everything falling apart was because of you.

So instead you giggle sweetly as he feeds you the next scoop, feigning anger when he drops some on your skirt. “Okay, okay,” you laugh. “I think you’ve done enough. You’ve officially made it up to me.”

“But I was just getting started. I have a whole evening planned,” he says with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Never,” you say through laughter, “do that again. That does not suit you.”

“What? C’mon―”

“I don’t think Mr. Hot-Shot-CEO-Kim-Namjoon wants to be caught wiggling his eyebrows like that, okay? I hate it.”

“But you could never hate me,” he says through a pout.

“Doubtful, honestly.”

“Now that’s just mean,” he says as he stands, brushing off his pants.

You stretch, standing up beside him. “At least I don’t forget our dates.”

“I thought I made it up to you!”

“Barely. I― Hey!”

He grabs your arm and hip, pulling you close to his body in an instant. “I may have forgotten our date but at least I don’t hold grudges.”

“I just like it when you dote on me.”

“I dote on you either way!”

You scoff, though it’s hard to act mad when he’s holding you so close and wow his lips are right there.

Obviously you’ve been spending too much time together because Namjoon knows exactly where your thoughts are, and he can’t help being so damn smug about it. “Aw, does baby girl want a kiss?”

“Stop it,” you groan.

“You want a kiss, don’t you?”

“Namjoon…”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” you huff in defeat.

He smirks victoriously, and you swear you’d slap him if he weren’t so damn cute. He pulls you the tiniest bit closer, both arms wrapping around you fully while yours entwine around his neck. His lips find yours swiftly, having done so a million times before. The kiss is slow and sweet at first, but it quickly heats up, his tongue slipping inside your mouth when he gets the chance. He moans softly into your mouth, the tension between you two finally reaching a breaking point.

Though neither of you really want to, you pull away, eager to return home. Namjoon waves absentmindedly, beckoning his men to follow him. It sets you on edge, making you suddenly hyperaware of everything going on, but you remind yourself that Namjoon has no reason to suspect you, and right now the only thought on his mind is getting under your skirt.

Namjoon has you home in an instant (the car ride was a bit of a blur, what with him teasing you the entire time), and he’s near growling as he strips you of your clothes. “You’re a fucking tease,” he mumbles as he kisses your neck.

“Me? What about you?” you whine as you help him out of his shirt.

“I mean, you just walk around looking so good all the time.”

“Have you seen your face?”

“Nothing compared to yours, babe.”

He lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he walks you to his desk.

“Oh, table now?”

“Problem?”

“None.”

“Good. It’s easier to eat you out this way anyway.”

“Fuck, better make good on that, babe.”

“Always,” he replies with a cocky smirk.

He sits on the chair, grabbing your legs and pulling your apex right in front of his face. His eyes look at yours briefly, as if daring you to make another snarky comment, but you say nothing, prompting him to put his mouth to use on your skin.

He teases kisses up your inner thigh, making most of the fun way you squirm and whine, begging for more. He licks a few lines, coming close to your center before going back down and starting over again. Every so often, he stops to leave a small mark, and it’s driving you crazy.

“Namjoon,” you whine, “please.”

“Please what, babe?” he laughs, massaging your legs.

“Please fucking do something!”

“Aren’t I?”

“I’m literally gonna kill you.”

“I don’t think that’d be much of a fight.”

“Yeah, for me.”

“Hey, do you want me to eat you out?”

“Kinda!”

“Damn, you’re impatient.”

“And you’re stalling!”

“Why are you so angry?” he asks, his voice tinted with glee.

You take a deep breath, playfulness etching your voice. “Joon, baby, if you don’t fuck me, I promise you I’ll find someone who will.”

“Ah,” he says, shaking his head at you, “you’re gonna fucking regret that.”

“Gonna prove it to me?”

“That’s it. You’re not getting cuddled tonight.”

“Doesn’t matter as long as I cum.”

“I hate you.”

“Two words: hate. sex.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, chuckling before finally, finally putting his lips on your dripping center. You gasp, shivers rolling up your spine at the contact. His tongue darts out, lapping at anywhere it can get to.

“Tastes so good, babe.”

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you command, one hand darting out to his hair. You yank a little roughly, but it seems to entice him to work harder.

He uses both of his hands, massaging your outer folds as his mouth works its magic. It leaves you reeling, and moans are falling from your lips like his favorite song. “You sound even better.”

“Mm… fuck, Joon, I’m not gonna…”

“Don’t worry, babe, I got you.”

“No, shit, I want you to fuck me,” you gasp out, even as he slides two fingers inside of you.

He picks up his pace, and you hold his wrist tightly, trying to slow him down. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you,” he laughs.

“With your dick,” you hiss.

“Ah, but I’m having so much fun like this.”

“I―Fuck. I know you’re hard right now.”

“Why won’t you let me have my fun?”

“Because I would really rather you fuck me right now.”

“Fine,” he says as he stands. “Since you want it that bad.”

He grins, kissing you as you eagerly help him out of his pants. One hand slips under his boxers, fondling his hard cock. He moans, leaning against you as you pump him. You run your thumb across his slit a couple of times, earning a soft whimper before he pulls away from you.

“Spread your legs,” he orders, tapping your thighs. You obey quickly, and he lines himself up to your entrance.

“Fuck me, Namjoon,” you whisper, and he’s easing himself in. He sucks in a breath, trying not to lose all of his self control right then and there.

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

You nod, letting yourself adjust. When he bottoms out, you can’t help grabbing him and sinking your teeth into his shoulder to stifle a moan. You’re nearly shaking out of desperation when you finally mumble, “Move.”

He doesn’t hesitate, sliding out of you and back in slowly before picking up pace as you give him the okay. Soon enough, the table is squeaking with the force of his thrusts, and you’re damn near screaming in pleasure. Namjoon huffs out in exeration, small noises of pleasure escaping him every so often.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So good. Always so good,” he moans.

“Oh, god, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

“Shit, I won’t last long.”

“It’s okay, I won’t either. Just don’t stop.”

He nods, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist as his thrusts get harder but shallower. He pauses every so often to give you a break, massaging your walls with long, languid strokes, but he’s quick to pick up the pace again. Your head is thrown back in pleasure as his cock does everything right inside of you.

“Fuck!” you cry as you feel your high approaching. “Fuck, keep going.”

Despite your request, he stops, pulling out of you and sitting back on the chair. He pats his leg twice and says, “Ride me ‘till you cum, babe.”

You whimper, moving onto his lap. You take his cock in your hand, placing its tip at your center before sinking down on it, eliciting simultaneous moans from the both of you. Namjoon guides your waist, and when you’ve adjusted yourself, you start bouncing on him.

Namjoon kneads your ass as you fuck yourself on him, trying his best to hold off his orgasm until you’re close enough. But you’re not making it easy, either. You alternate rhythms, bouncing and rolling on his dick until he feels like he’s going to pass out. To distract himself, his mouth finds one of your breasts, his hand pinching and playing with the free nipple. You cry out, steadying yourself on him as you move faster.

“J-Joon!” you whine. “I’m close!”

“Fuck, finally. I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.”

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes…”

“C’mon, babe. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.”

“Shit, Namjoon… I’m―”

You sit on his cock in one final, hurried bounce, and you’re coming undone on top of him. You squeal in pleasure, the sensation running up and down your body. Namjoon cums as soon as you do, the feeling of you clenching around him too much to bear, and he fills you up.

You collapse in his arms, your body feeling fuzzy and full and warm and so, so tired. After a few minutes and a couple of deep breaths, Namjoon slips out of you and picks you up, depositing your worn out body on his bed. He cleans you up gently before helping you into one of his shirts.

It’s much too large on you, but damn do you look cute. He puts on a pair of loose pants and climbs in right beside you, wrapping you snugly under his arm as sleep finally takes you.

Your eyes open abruptly and you shoot up, expecting danger. You look around nervously, only to find yourself alone in Namjoon’s bedroom. The bedside clock blinks 6:23, and you’re a little bit pissed off because you hate waking up before the sun rises.

Some rustling from the other side of the bedroom door draws your attention, and you decide to go investigate. There’s nothing there, and while that’s not all that surprising, what is surprising is the fact that there’s nothing anywhere. The whole house seems empty. No Namjoon… no guards. No Hoseok or Jimin.

Where did they go?

You make your way downstairs, looking for clues. All the hallways just lead to more empty rooms, and it didn’t look like anyone was outside either.

And then you hear a very distant, very muffled scream. What the fuck? One hand darts to your side, expecting to find a knife, and disappointed to come up empty-handed. Shit. This is definitely not ideal.

Against your better judgement, you decide to follow the noise. (But not without sending your brother a very lovely “if you don’t hear from me within twenty four hours i died by the kims love you xx” text). At the end of the second hallway is what you thought was a closet door, but actually turns out to be a basement door. You open it, and the screams get a little bit louder.

“Ah, this is gonna go well.”

You trek carefully, trying not to make any sudden or loud movements. The basement looks more like a cellar in that it opens to one big room connected to a long hallway with four doors down it. There are two men posted outside of one door, and another loud scream is heard from it. You’re very exposed, and the movement of your appearance causes both their heads to whip towards you, hands instinctively moving to the weapon on their belt.

And then they register who you are, and everything seems to slow down. “Uh…”

They look at each other, unsure of what to do before slowly rapping on the door behind them.

“What?” shouts a voice from the other side.

“Sir, uh, we kinda have a situation.”

“Can’t you handle it?” he says in an annoyed tone.

“I think this is above our station.”

The door swings open angrily. “Above your station? What the fuck does that even―”

He’s cut off as the guard redirect his attention to you, and you can only stand there, dumbfounded.

Fuck.

You two stare at each other for what seems like an eternity before you finally shuffle backwards. “I’m just… I’m just gonna go…”

“Ah, shit,” Namjoon mutters. “Babe, I’m so sorry.” You look at him expectantly, but instead he turns to the men. “Don’t let her leave.”