"God it stinks down here," Namjoon mutters to himself as he made his way down the basement that situated itself below his family's building. "Oof it reminds me of Yoongi's cooking."
Since the elevator has been busted for some stupid reason his men did, Namjoon had no other choice but to take the stairs.
And god forbid the stairs— he hated stairs to the guts.
Salty droplets flow down Namjoon's face, dripping down to his exuberant black suit that was designed for only him. He took off his jacket and threw it to the side as he buttons down his dress shirt down to his abdominal area to keep himself cool in this heat. Sweat drips from his chin to his exposed chest, it's droplet going down his toned abs, but he didn't care.
The only thing that was swimming inside his mind was (Y/N).
He wanted to know if she really was the woman who he saw back in Yoongi's house. Ever since that day, he couldn't take his mind of (Y/N) and Yoongi... doing that.
The thought of (Y/N) and Yoongi together disgusted— no not even that, it made him angry, displeased, to the point where he exuded out his anger towards one of his men, killing him without no second thought.
Namjoon even laughed to himself that a girl is making him act like this... he never thought he had the capability of craving a human being until (Y/N) came...
As Namjoon opens the basement, silence engulfed him.
But then he heard a scream.
A man sits on the middle, his garments ripped purposely, his face chalky and gaunt. His eyes were open wide with horror, mouth rigid and open. "Please, please," he begged, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned blanch, nails digging deep into the heart of his palms. Yoongi stands beside him, eyes blank, one hand being occupied with a bloody pruner while the other held a stick of a burning cigarette.
Yoongi smirked, placing his cigarette in between his lips, grabbing both ends of the pruner, placing the mouth of the blades at the man's forearm.
"AH— PLEASE— augh!!!" The man screamed as there was the sound of ripping, popping, filled the men's ears as the ligaments tear, the bone bursts, his arms cut right off, similar when a child break their candy cane. Tears stained his face, his eyes bloodshot from the constant pain and torture he's been enduring for the past couple of hours.
"Talk," Yoongi blankly said.
The man purses his lips, trying to keep his screaming at bay, unresponsive towards Yoongi. Yoongi became relentless, throwing the pruner to the ground as the boy dug his fingers inside of the man's dismembered arm.
"Talk," Yoongi repeated.
"He won't be needing too," Namjoon speaks out loud, Yoongi's head snapping to the direction of his half brother. "We found traces of addresses and phone numbers that goes back to the people who wanted father dead. It seems like the poison that was placed in father's coffee was a modified drug that could kill someone if given in big doses... either way, this man is no longer useful."
"Sad."
Yoongi smirks as he walked up to his half brother, who is looking at the fingers splattered at the floor, skin slitted on the middle, deep enough that you could see the whiteness of the bones.
"He wouldn't talk," Yoongi smiled, crossing his arms at his brother's disgusted face.
"Finish him, he's worthless."
"Wait— no please! You won't get away with this— my daughter, she will come back, my son will find her. I'm telling you—!"
"Mr. Jung, see you in hell."
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Hostess || BTS X Reader ✔️
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] "A whore is someone who sells their body; a hostess is someone who entertains guests to make them feel welcomed and loved. There is a difference." (Y/N), a woman who moved from the suburban area of South Korea to one of the biggest citie...
