MY MAFIA BOTTOM

The neon lights blurred into a haze of smoke and expensive gin. Jung Hoseok, the hidden king of the underground, watched the crowd with the predatory boredom of a man who owned everything he saw. Beside him, Namjoon-the only man alive who knew the blood on Hoseok's hands-checked his watch.

"Looking for a distraction?" Namjoon asked.

"Always," Hoseok replied, his ego bolstered by a lifetime of never being the one to bend.

Across the room, the "quiet" college student Jeon Jungkook watched his world shatter. He saw Jimin, his bright and cheerful happy pill, breathless and tangled with the model in a dark booth. The passivity Jungkook usually wore like a mask cracked, revealing something cold and lethal underneath.
He turned to leave, his shoulder slamming into Hoseok's chest.

Hoseok reached out to steady him, ready to assert his dominance, but stopped when he met Jungkook's gaze. There was no apology in the boy's eyes-only a dark, addictive fire that made the mafia boss's pulse skip for the first time in years.

"Watch where you're going, daddy" Hoseok murmured, his voice uncharacteristically in a mocking tone

"Or else?" Jungkook challenged, his voice a low, dangerous velvet.

The predator realized he had just met his match. The predator had finally found a master, and he was ready to let the college boy ruin him.