Always for You
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿ Pairing: gangster!H/N x f!Reader Genre: action | romance | crime drama Rating: 18+ Word Count: ~4k Warnings: kidnapping, attempted sexual assault (non-graphic but intense), violence, gunfights, language, suggestive content, possessive behavior, minor blood/injury, comfort after trauma, spicy fluff, romantic tension, protective male lead Summary: When you're kidnapped as leverage in a turf war, H/N doesn’t just bring backup, he brings hell. The city burns behind him as he fights his way back to you, one bullet and one kiss at a time.
H/N = His name Y/N = Your name M/N 1/2/3= Group members' names
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿
The rooftop restaurant was his idea.
Of course it was. H/N didn’t do anything halfway, especially not when it came to you.
He’d booked out the entire top floor of Seoul’s most luxurious skyline restaurant. A private string quartet played softly in the background, city lights blinking below like scattered stars. The scent of cherry blossom-scented candles mingled with the crisp night air. A silk shawl lay across your shoulders. He’d draped it there himself when the breeze picked up.
And he was sitting across from you, looking like sin in a tailored black suit and an unbuttoned collar, one hand swirling a glass of red wine, the other resting casually beside the silver pistol tucked under his jacket.
God, you were in trouble.
Candlelight flickered across his sharp jawline as he leaned forward, those dark eyes never leaving yours. He looked like he wanted to devour you and not just metaphorically.
“You’re staring,” you teased, kicking his shin under the table.
He didn’t flinch. Instead, he caught your ankle between his legs, trapping it. His lips curled, amused and hungry. “Can’t help it. That dress is a crime.”
His thumb traced your bare knee under the table, slow and deliberate, sending sparks up your spine.
“Might have to arrest you.”
You rolled your eyes, trying not to let your smile crack too wide. “Says the actual criminal.”
H/N smirked. “Exactly. So you’re already guilty. Might as well come quietly.”
“Or what?” you dared, tilting your chin. “You’ll interrogate me?”
His eyes darkened, glinting with amusement. “Oh, I don’t need to interrogate. I already know where you’re most... vulnerable.”
Your breath hitched.
He smirked, clearly pleased by the effect, then took a long, slow sip of his wine, never breaking eye contact. The teasing silence between you stretched like a bowstring, deliciously tense.
You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table, mimicking his smirk. “Do you ever stop flirting?”
He leaned closer, voice dropping low. “With you? Never. I’ll flirt with you in the middle of a firefight, sweetheart.”
You were about to respond, something sharp and clever, when his gaze shifted just slightly, and the air around him went still.
You followed his eyes.
Two men. Suits. Not from his crew.
Your heart stuttered.
H/N’s hand drifted down to his side, under the table. His fingers curled around the gun in his holster.
“Stay calm,” he murmured without looking at you. “Don’t move.”
A click. Right behind his ear. A third man. You hadn’t seen him. “Don’t move,” the stranger hissed. The barrel of a pistol pressed against H/N’s temple.
And just like that, the atmosphere shattered. The string quartet went silent. One of the violinists screamed. Chairs scraped back. Footsteps. Chaos.
You barely had time to scream before a gloved hand yanked you from your seat. Another clamped over your mouth, silencing you as your chair toppled to the ground.
“Y/N!” H/N’s voice barked like a gunshot, lethal and sharp.
The man behind him pressed the gun harder to his head. “We’ll trade her for the eastside docks,” the masked one growled. “Try anything, and she dies.”
You thrashed, kicking, but two sets of arms held you back. Panic surged in your throat.
Then you saw H/N’s eyes. They weren’t scared. They weren’t angry. They were cold. Ice cold.
Like someone had flipped a switch and turned off the man who had been teasing you under the table seconds ago. His voice dropped to a deadly calm. “Touch her, and I’ll peel your skin off.”
No one moved.
You could feel the tension building like a live wire, stretched to its limit.
The man holding the gun to H/N’s head twitched nervously. “You’re outnumbered. Don’t be stupid.”
“I don’t care,” H/N said softly, voice razor-sharp. “You make one wrong move, and I swear to God—”
An explosion thundered in the distance, too loud, too close. A diversion.
They yanked you back in that split second of distraction, fast, brutal, merciless.
You struggled as they dragged you toward the elevator, your eyes locked on H/N’s. He lunged for you, but a thug beside him swung a pistol, cracking it against his temple.
Blood streaked down to his brow, and he staggered for a moment.
“No!” you cried, your voice breaking.
The elevator doors slammed shut, cutting him off from view.
“Hold still or I’ll shoot you in the leg,” one of them growled. “Fuck you,” you snapped, driving your heel into his knee. He howled and grabbed your hair, yanking your head back hard. “Stupid bitch…”
They pulled you through the basement hall into the underground garage, your heels scraping the concrete.
“Where’s the idiot with the car?” one of them barked. “Gotta do everything myself…”
Your eyes darted around. Empty shadows. A distant echo. You searched for an opening.
“Don’t do anything dumb, sweetheart,” another sneered, cocking his gun. “Pretty face like yours won’t stop a bullet.”
Then, a roaring engine. A black SUV screeched into view, headlights slicing through the dark.
They started dragging you toward it.
Ding.
The elevator behind you chimed.
“Didn’t I tell those idiots to stop the elevators?!” the gangster next to you shouted, panic rising in his voice.
H/N stood there.
Blood streaked down his temple. His eyes burned with murder. Behind him, the man who had hit him now lay crumpled in the elevator, broken, barely breathing. H/N had unleashed hell on him.
“H/N!” you screamed, wrenching your arm free just long enough to reach out.
He was already moving. Gun drawn, sprinting, every step powered by rage. But he was too late.
The masked man shoved you into the SUV and slammed the door just as H/N fired. Glass shattered around you like crystal rain. You screamed, shielding your face. Tires screeched against the concrete. The SUV peeled away into the night. Darkness swallowed you.
H/N stood there, chest heaving, gun still raised, fury burning in his veins like wildfire. He slowly turned, eyes stormy, jaw clenched so tight it looked like it could break. H/N wiped blood from his brow, his phone already at his ear.
“They took her,” he growled, voice low and venomous.
Silence.
“We’re on our way.” ~~~
Twenty minutes later, the penthouse buzzed with quiet fury.
Gone was the romantic dinner ambiance. The skyline flickered outside like a war zone waiting to happen, and the soft jazz from the security system's idle screen was the only sound until the elevator dinged.
The first to arrive was M/N1, his right-hand man and personal bulldozer. He stepped inside, cracking his knuckles like they were warm-up exercises. “So,” he said casually, eyes glinting. “Who are we killing?”
M/N2 followed, twirling a butterfly knife between his fingers as he dropped onto the white leather couch like he owned the place. “I call dibs on the one who touched her,” he said, eyes locked on H/N. “I’m taking fingers. Slowly.”
Behind them, M/N3, the calmest of the three, walked in with a tablet already pulled up. His tie was still on from a meeting, but his sleeves were rolled. “I checked traffic cams. Their vehicle was last seen heading west through the industrial zone,” he reported, handing H/N the screen. “Could be headed to one of the abandoned shipyards.”
H/N didn’t speak.
He stood at the center of the room, in front of the massive screen mounted to the wall. His hair was a mess, knuckles bruised from where he’d punched a wall downstairs. He pulled up the restaurant’s rooftop security footage, scrubbing through the grainy feed until…
Pause. Zoom.
The frame focused on one of the masked men shoving Y/N into the SUV. A tattoo snaked out from under the man’s collar. A serpent coiled around a dagger, its fangs bared.
Cobra's mark.
H/N’s voice was ice. “Cobra’s men. They’ve been after Eastside for months.”
M/N2 made a low noise in his throat. “That greasy bastard’s got a death wish.”
“Guess we’re granting it,” said M/N 1, grin sharpening.
M/N3 exhaled, rubbing his temples. “And instead of negotiating like a normal person, he kidnaps your girlfriend?” He looked up, arching a brow. “That’s not just bold. That’s suicidal.”
H/N finally turned to face them. His smile was thin and cold, more threat than expression. “They won’t live long enough to regret it.”
He grabbed his jacket, strapped a fresh clip into his pistol, and looked to his crew. The only people he trusted enough to fix this without a body count that would make headlines for weeks. Unfortunately for Cobra, restraint wasn’t on tonight’s menu.
“Gear up,” H/N ordered. “We leave in ten.”
M/N1 cracked his neck. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this.”
M/N2 stood, flipping his knife closed with a snap. “Bet she’s already made one of them cry.”
M/N3 tapped the screen again. “One of the shipyards has lights on. Want me to prep a drone?”
“No time,” H/N said. His voice was sharp, final. “I want boots on the ground and a gun in Cobra’s mouth before midnight.”
He holstered his gun, pausing only for a second as his fingers brushed over Y/N’s necklace on the counter. He’d taken it off her earlier, playfully, to “hold it hostage” until she kissed him.
Now it was the only thing she’d left behind.
“We’re bringing her home,” he said, more to himself than anyone else.
And God help anyone who tried to stop him. ~~~
You woke up tied to a chair in a damp warehouse. Concrete walls. Rusty tools. The overwhelming stench of gasoline and cheap cologne. Fantastic.
Your wrists were bound with thick zip ties, ankles too. Classy.
A dim bulb flickered overhead, casting twitching shadows, and there he was: the idiot with the snake tattoo who ruined your date night.
He crouched in front of you, flicking open a dull pocketknife like it was supposed to scare you.
“Your boyfriend’s got twelve hours to hand over the eastside docks,” he sneered, tracing the blade near your cheek. “Or we start sending little pieces of you back in gift wrap.”
You gave him your most unimpressed look. “You must be Cobra’s dumbest cousin.”
His grin faltered. “What?”
“I mean, clearly. Who kidnaps the most protected girl in the city and thinks her boyfriend, the most feared boss, is just going to fold?”
He leaned in, too close, lips curling. “He’s not getting in here, sweetheart. You’re just leverage. Nothing more.”
You held his gaze, even as your heart pounded too fast in your chest. “You’re so dead.”
He laughed, stepping back. “Cute. Real cute.” Then he leaned in, voice low and smug. “Just wait until our boss finds out we’ve got you locked up. He’s gonna love the gift we brought him.”
The others chuckled darkly behind him.
You raised a brow. “You idiots kidnapped me without Cobra’s permission?” You gave a sharp laugh. “You’re all dead. The only question is who’ll kill you first, him or H/N.”
The laughter faltered.
One of the thugs shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe she’s right… We should’ve told Cobra first…”
“Don’t bullshit me,” the ringleader snapped. “We get the eastside docks and hand them over. He’ll be thrilled. And this pretty little thing…” He looked you up and down, sneering. “She’s the cherry on top.”
They left you alone after that, muttering among themselves.
You slumped back in the chair, the zip ties digging into your wrists. Just hours ago, you had been sitting across from H/N at a rooftop restaurant, candlelight flickering in his eyes, his fingers brushing your knee.
After weeks of barely seeing him, he had finally carved out time for you, real time. You had dressed up just for him. The moment he saw you in that dress, he couldn’t look away. He’d leaned close, murmuring how gorgeous you looked, promising that tonight he’d make up for every moment missed.
And now here you were. In some godforsaken warehouse, tied to a chair, adrenaline still rushing through your veins.
Your chest ached. “Is H/N okay…?” you whispered to yourself.
You could still see his bloodied face. The flash of panic in his eyes as the elevator doors closed. He had fought to get to you. He always fought for you.
He was coming. You just had to hold on.
~~~
Hours passed. The night deepened into something heavy and hollow. Your body ached, every nerve stretched too tight. You tried to stretch your legs, shift your arms, anything to relieve the burn in your joints, when the door creaked open.
You froze. For one aching second, hope flared in your chest. Please... H/N...
But it wasn’t him.
It was the same thug from earlier. The one with the snake tattoo and the punchable face. He stumbled into the room, reeking of alcohol, a half-empty bottle dangling from his hand.
“Looks like your lover’s not coming,” he slurred, voice thick with mockery. “Guess you’re not as special to him as you thought, huh?”
You glared at him, lips pressed into a hard line. He didn’t know anything about you and H/N. He didn’t deserve to know.
“I guess that means you agree with me,” he sneered, taking a long swig from the bottle. Then, without warning, he stepped close—too close—and reached out, running a grimy finger along your cheek.
You recoiled instantly. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”
His grin widened. “Or what?” Another swig. His eyes were glassy and dangerous. “Y’know what? I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll keep you. Let the boss have the damn docks.”
Your blood ran cold.
Panic twisted in your gut, but you forced yourself to stay still. Calm. Don’t give him anything.
He leaned in, his breath hot and sickening against your face. “I feel like trying out my new toy tonight.” His laugh was low, stomach-turning. He reached for your face again, grabbed your jaw, forcing your head back. Then he pressed a wet kiss to your neck.
Your entire body recoiled. No one should touch you like that. No one but H/N.
“Stop it. Don’t touch me!” you shouted, thrashing against the ropes, teeth bared. But he was stronger, and drunk, and too far gone to care.
“I like it when you fight,” he growled, dragging his lips up your neck. “Go ahead. No one’s coming. Not even your boyfriend.”
Tears of fury stung your eyes.
He reached for his belt.
You adjusted your posture in the chair, trying not to wince. “Oh, you think he’s gonna sneak in?” You smirked. “He’s not sneaking.”
“Oh yeah?” Snake-for-Brains raised a brow.
“Yeah.” You grinned, teeth bared. “He’s gonna blow the walls off.”
And right on cue—BOOM.
The warehouse shook. The door behind Snake exploded off its hinges in a blast of smoke and debris. You ducked instinctively as concrete dust rained down from the ceiling.
“YAH! Y/N! You alive?!” came a familiar voice through the chaos. M/N1. Loud, dramatic, and about as subtle as a truck in a jewelry store.
You coughed, your hair falling into your face. Relief swelled in your chest. “Of course, he sent you first.”
M/N1 stormed in, clearing the smoke with the swipe of his arm, gun ready, eyes scanning. “Rude!” he called back. “I volunteered, by the way!”
Then he saw Snake-for-Brains, his belt still in his hand, standing way too close to you. M/N1’s playful tone vanished. His expression hardened, eyes burning with fury. “Back off,” he said in a low growl.
Gunfire erupted in the hallway behind him. Shouts, panic, chaos breaking loose in every corner of the warehouse.
“WHERE. IS. SHE.”
That voice. Low. Lethal. Loud enough to freeze the blood in every man’s veins. Your heart stopped.
H/N.
And then he appeared in the doorway like some god of vengeance. Blood on his hands, shirt half-open, black coat billowing behind him. His eyes found yours instantly. Something in them shattered and pieced back together in a single breath.
His shoulders dropped, just a fraction. Relief.
“Took you long enough,” you huffed, voice cracking a little despite yourself.
He was across the room in three strides, ignoring the bodies and bullet holes. He crouched down, hands gentle on your face. “You hurt?”
You gave him a cocky smile. “Just my pride. They tied me to a chair with zip ties like amateurs.”
He brushed a thumb across your cheek, checking for injuries. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m furious,” you whispered.
He smiled faintly. “Good. Hold onto that.”
From behind him came a scream. Snake Boy trying to crawl away.
H/N turned slowly, rising to full height, and the temperature in the room dropped five degrees. “You touched her?” he asked, voice too calm.
Snake stammered, “L-Look, man, it wasn’t personal…”
“No. It’s personal now.”
He stalked forward, pulling a blade from his belt.
You didn’t look away as H/N pinned the man to the wall with a single, savage punch. His crew, M/N2 and M/N3, stormed in behind him, rounding up the stragglers like wolves in a pen.
You heard M/N1 yell, “This one touched her!” M/N2’s knife sang as it came out. “Then he’s mine.”
~~~
Later, when the dust had settled and your restraints were finally off, you stood beside H/N, your hand still trembling slightly from the adrenaline.
The aggressors lay sprawled across the floor, beaten bloody, unconscious, or moaning in pain.
H/N’s eyes swept over them, cold and unmoved. He stepped forward, voice calm but lethal.
“Tell your boss this is my first and only warning. Next time he pulls a stunt like this…” He looked down at one of the groaning men, lips curling into a dangerous smile. “…I’ll blow him to pieces.”
M/N1 chuckled, nudging a barely conscious thug with his boot. “I’d gladly take care of that.”
You crossed your arms, glaring at the idiots on the floor. “Cobra doesn’t even know about this.”
H/N’s eyes met yours, then flicked back to the men. His voice dropped lower.
“Fucking amateurs.” He turned to M/N1. “Let’s send Cobra a message. Let him know what kind of clowns he’s keeping around.”
M/N1 grinned. “Want me to gift wrap it?”
~~~
Two minutes later, H/N walked you out of the warehouse like the building wasn’t burning behind you.
You leaned into him, exhaustion tugging at your bones, but you were alive, safe, held close to the man who had just torn the city apart for you. His jacket was draped around your shoulders, the inside still warm from his body. His arm never left your waist, as if letting go for even a second might make you disappear again.
Outside, the night air hit your face. Cool and quiet.
H/N looked down at you, his gaze softening. “You good?”
You managed a tired smile. “I’m starving,” you muttered. “You owe me dessert.”
He huffed a soft laugh, brushing your hair from your cheek. “We’ll stop for cake on the way home.”
You tilted your head at him, teasing. “Actual cake? Or…”
His eyes darkened slightly, something wicked curling in his smile. “Depends on how long you want to wait.”
“Oh, we’re doing…?” you asked, a smirk tugging at your lips despite the soreness in your body.
H/N leaned closer, voice low and full of promise. “After what you put me through tonight?” He brushed a thumb along your cheekbone. “I’m not letting you out of bed for days.”
You rolled your eyes and smacked his arm, cheeks heating. “You’re impossible.”
“Correction…” he whispered, before pulling you in and kissing you—slow, deep, and possessive. Right there beside the getaway car, with the city still smoking behind you. “I’m yours.”
~~~
His bedroom was quiet. Dim lights cast golden shadows across silk sheets, the city skyline glittering beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
You stood by the glass, arms crossed, still in the dress from dinner, wrinkled, dusty, but clinging to you like a second skin. The fabric hugged every curve, a reminder of the night that had started with candlelight and nearly ended in gunfire.
Behind you, his warmth wrapped around you before his arms did. His hands slipped around your waist, his body pressed against your back, solid and steady. His chin rested on your shoulder, and you felt the weight of his breath.
“You were brave tonight,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear.
“I was terrified.”
“But still brave,” he said, pulling you tighter.
You turned in his arms, your eyes locking. The weight of his gaze made it hard to breathe.
“You came for me,” you breathed.
“You didn’t think I would?”
“No. I knew you would.” Your fingers slid up his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath your palm. “I just didn’t know if you’d get there in time.”
His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing gently along your jaw with a tenderness that nearly undid you. “Always in time. Always for you.”
You leaned into his touch. “Still… you owe me for that ruined dinner.”
He raised an eyebrow, amused. “That so?”
You rose on your toes, lips ghosting against his. “I want my dessert.”
His mouth twitched in a grin that turned sinful in an instant. “What flavor?”
You kissed him. Slow, deep, filled with everything you'd held in all night. A kiss that said I’m here. I’m yours. Your fingers fisted his shirt. His hands roamed your body like he had to feel every part of you to believe you were really here.
“Surprise me,” you whispered against his lips.
He didn’t need a second invitation. In one fluid motion, he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed. The city lights washed your skin in gold as he laid you down like you were made of something sacred.
His hands were everywhere, sliding up your thighs, unzipping your dress, pushing the ruined fabric down your body. His lips followed the trail, pressing reverent kisses across your collarbone, down to your stomach, and lower.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured.
“Maybe I’m excited,” you whispered.
“Or still in shock,” he teased, voice low and rough.
You reached for him, pulling him down to you. “Make me forget.”
He kissed you again, deeper this time, devouring your fear, your anger, your longing. Clothing fell away piece by piece, slow and impatient all at once. Skin met skin. Every inch burned with desire.
The skyline burned behind him, stars drowning in city light, but all you saw was him. He hovered above you, breathless against your skin. “Don’t think I’m letting you out of my sight again.”
You smiled, tugging him closer, hearts beating in sync. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
~~~
Bonus scene:
The elevator dinged open, and before you could step out, confetti exploded in your face.
“She lives!” M/N3 shouted, throwing his arms wide like he’d just won a championship.
You blinked at the mess of balloons, pizza boxes, and cans littering the penthouse.
M/N1 plopped onto the couch, mouth full of chips. "We saved your girl and got revenge. That’s a five-star Friday, boss." “Speak for yourself,” M/N2 muttered, nursing a bandaged hand. “One of those idiots bit me.”
You rolled your eyes and collapsed into the armchair. “Did you seriously prepare a party while I was kidnapped?”
“It is a celebration of survival,” M/N1 replied. “Also, M/N2 made cookies. Real ones.”
H/N stood behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders protectively. “She’s not a war trophy,” he said, but his voice held a rare softness. You reached up, lacing your fingers with his. “It’s okay. I feel like one. I expect a parade and a crown next.” “Noted,” H/N said, deadpan. “Custom tiara. Gold-plated.”
Laughter broke out around the room, tension melting like ice. For the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe.
M/N3 raised his drink. “To the dumbest gang in the city for thinking they could touch our queen.”
“To the queen!” the boys echoed, slamming their cups together.
You grinned, leaning your head back against H/N’s stomach. “You boys are so dramatic.”
“And you love it,” M/N1 said.
“Unfortunately,” you muttered, hiding a smile.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿
♡ Author’s note
Blame it on ENHYPEN’s MAKE concept. One look at those deadly stares, weapons in hand, and suddenly this whole gangster AU exploded in my brain. ⚔️🖤
Enjoy reading. ( ´ ▽ ` )
Love, YumiYue 🌙
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿
Please like, share, and follow! ♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡
Follow me on: 📸 Instagram / 🎵 TikTok: @yumiyue07 📝 Wattpad: @LunaVerse_YumiYue
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fan fiction. All characters and events are fictional and are not intended to represent real people or events.
© 2025 LunaVerse - YumiYue07. All rights reserved. Please do not repost or reproduce this story without permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.
